Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thx to my Beta emily64cooper for rescuing me

Chapter 4: Ignorance and Enlightenment

If there was one thing above all that Elle liked about Seattle, it was the rain. Logically, it wasn't a good thing. It impaired her ability to protect herself but it always seemed to calm her. Southern California had been so rarely blessed with precipitation that she had forgotten how easy it was to just relax and listen to the pellets of water as they beat against the windows and walls.

If she strained to remember far back enough, she could see her mother at the windowsill back at their old house in Chicago. That was before Daddy found out about her sparks and took her away to the Company. Her mother would sit there all day long, just looking out the window and watching the cloud patterns in the sky, like she could almost control them. Elle didn't find out that that was exactly true until she started her training with Raymond, and over heard him defending her being trained as an agent so young.

"She's a second generation! Her father turns things to gold and her mother controls the weather. Tell me there's no potential in that! I can't even imagine what kind of powers her children will have!"

She shook her head as she refilled the napkin holder. She didn't need to think about that kind of stuff. She had a new start and for once was okay, she was normal, finally. It wasn't like she could even remember anything much about her mother. Only wide hazel eyes and fuzzy blonde hair. Just straining to remember the broken images gave her a headache. She gave a huge internal, "Fuck you very much" to the Haitian and began to stuff the metal contraption violently.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Take it easy there!" Jason swerved around the counter from where he'd been cleaning up the last table for the night. Her brain spit fire, and she felt the tiniest of charges in her finger tips. She'd shove the napkins around if she damn well wanted to. They were just going to end up getting crumbled up and discarded on the floor anyway.

It was closing, and everyone else had taken upon themselves to leave them to close up alone. Elle highly doubted that the twenty she saw Jason hand Andrew didn't have anything to do with the sudden "concert" they all had to rush off too.

These people really had no idea who she rolled her eyes, passing by him to flip the open/closed sign to it correct format. Jason seemed to be biting his lip hard with concentration. She was quick to catch this, and even quicker to grab her coat.

"Hey, Eliza?"

Shit.

"Ummm yeah, what is it Jason?" she tried to sound as neutral as possible while she dug furiously for her scarf, which seemed to have melted into the cheap shelves.

"I know you just moved here, and you're still settling in and stuff, but I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go catch a movie or something sometime?" His voice had taken on that forced swagger that irked Elle like nothing else.

Double shit.

Once again, multiple problems were arising. If she turned him down, her new "normal work buddies" would take his side. Simply because he'd been with them longer, and Elle was just the short chick who never responded when you called her name. If that happened, she'd be left not only with an awkward working environment, but also be back on the couch in her house again. Where she'd have nothing to do but think… and that was definitely not good.

She must have paused for too long because she was pulled back into reality to find Jason in the act of literally raping her air bubble. His hands hung on the ends of his own folded scarf that barely made it around his neck. His elbows protruded in this position, kind of encasing Elle who was just staring at him horrified.

"Just think about it," he whispered leaning in.

Elle's mind went blank for a minute. Okay, so she had been making this a joke. She did think that it was her way of coping, which conveniently didn't involve zapping people. But realistically, Elle was a woman, and women have needs. Jason was cute, and although annoying at times and somewhat naive for her taste, it was something, and right now all she wanted was just a nice simple rebound. Just like how she'd tried to use Peter after Adam turned out to be a grade A asshole back at Primatech. Maybe it hadn't worked out so well then, but she highly doubted that same thing could occur here. I mean what was Jason going to do if Sylar showed up? They'd team up and cross the country? Sylar could kill people and Jason would cook him eggs Benedict?

So, with this in mind, she let him kiss her. Nothing crazy, he wasn't quite that bold, just a soft sweet kiss. Simple; easy. She felt a pang of disappointment as she felt nothing. Not even a little tingle. Her brow furrowed as she put a bit more into it. Jason seemed to be more than pleased with this development; his arms seemed to find their way around her waist at lightning speed. Still nothing.

She managed to wiggle away, mutter a quick goodbye, and shuffle out of the dinner, disappearing into the damp night. She sighed loudly, wrapping the scarf around her neck as she walked, desperate to keep the cold out. Yeah, she was in trouble. What was she going to do now? Oh no, no, no, no, no. What was wrong with her? She always seemed to screw everything-

Wait.

Elle's heart nearly jumped as she struggled to calm it and keep her walk normal.

Someone was following her.

To be entirely truthful, Gabriel wasn't really sure why he didn't approach Elle immediately upon locating her. He chalked it up to curiosity. He'd never been given the opportunity to observe Elle when she thought no one was looking. No lies, no mask, no show to put on.

She'd watched him plenty through those little company planted bugs all those years back, so he figured fair was fair. He accomplished this much easier with the help of Clarissa Heplet's power of camouflage, which allowed Sylar to seamlessly blend into any surrounding.

He'd kill her only a few miles outside the city. How could Elle not have noticed? Had she not been monitoring the local news? Did she want to be found? Or was she just cocky at her own survival?

So he watched, carefully storing the smallest bits of information. How she'd check the caller id on her phone and ignore it 70% of the time, even if she wasn't doing anything important. How she took the same route to work every day. He watched as the dishes and trash built up in her apartment until she finally budged and hired someone else to clean it. She never made her bed. She bought new clothes rather than wash the old ones. She'd obviously always been taken care of.

He'd watched from the corner of her apartment when she finally decided to give cooking a try. He then nearly blew his cover when she started a small fire in the miniature kitchenette. She squealed loudly and ran out side into the hall yelling for her neighbor Barry to help her with it. The old man rolled his eyes as he walked into the apartment and simply turned down the flames.

He chuckled as Elle blushed and thanked her neighbor after she was forced to promise never to try cooking again. That pie was without a doubt store bought, he reasoned.

He'd been there, lurking like a creeper, for a week and still he took no action. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that she was happy. She was normal. He barely even saw her spark these days, even when she was home all alone. She'd gone and done what they'd talked about on the floor of the Canfield house.

She'd started a new life. Free of parents. Free of Powers. Free of him.

This should have made him jealous, but it didn't. He was content in knowing that she was alive and happy. That is, until he saw Jason and Elle.

Suddenly, there was no question about why he'd come. He was not going to let this happen. Did she think she could just forget about him? Just pick out some obscure Seattle band member with a crappy day job and fuck him? That was simply not acceptable. The sound of the little twerps screams as he was flung across the diner and the crack of his head on the corner of the counter as he crumbled made Sylar smile.

Elle deserved happiness, but with conditions. With him. He was not going to be replaced with anyone else. She was his damaged little angel. He wasn't going to tolerate losing her again.

Elle's mind was trained in panic situations; it quickly began to map out multiple escapes. The fastest route to her closest getaway car, the exact location of the other fake id and papers she had prepared for this very moment. Moves that could take him down, or at least slow him down. How long would it take him to regenerate if she fried him to a crisp?

The best thing for her to do right now would be to get back into private, she reasoned. That way, they could duel it out without anyone else interfering or getting killed. So she maintained her pace, and kept her senses wide open, picking up every disturbance in the air. She opted for the staircase, which admittedly was a bitch with her being on nearly the top floor, but she needed to keep track of him and she could see the shadows of his movements a floor beneath her out of the corners of her eyes.

After what seemed like a neatly ordered eternity, she found herself turning the key and knob of her door and entering. She spun on the spot a few feet inside of the room, and pumped a little over 70,000 volts into his body. His body collapsed in the darkness of the living room, not allowing her to see his face. She moved quickly to slam the door shut and turn on the kitchenette light, which threw a loud light over the two of them from the left.

He was regaining consciousness now. The smell of burnt flesh was circulating around the apartment. Elle bolted for the bedroom door, her mind going through the steps in her mind like a bored school kid during a test fire drill. She nearly ran into the door when it slammed shut by an unseen force with an ominous clamor.

She turned, breathing in shallow pants, as she eased forward, "What are you doing here, Sylar?"

"I had to find you," his eyes were open and his voice scared her. The kitchen light behind him illuminated him making him seem even more frightful.

"And what, finish the job?" she shot back hostilely, her body moving forward like a cornered animal.

He turned just slightly, and the light hit his face as he smirked. "Nice to see you've gotten your spark back," he said, letting a line of electricity pass between his rubbing fingers to emphasize her point.

Her nostrils flared. He was taunting her. "Bite me,"

"I believe I did," His smirk grew into a full blown grin, "and you liked it."

She sent another bolt at him, laying him flat on his back, and he groaned at the contact. Elle tried to ignore the satisfaction she felt at the sound. She placed her foot on top of his chest, reveling in the upper hand and sudden ease of her position.

"I'll think you'll find that time has come to a pass."

Like a flash, his hands flew up to her ankle and twisted it. She fell, landing with a sore thud on the dark, hardwood floor. He flipped over her, and positioned himself above her in a manner eerily familiar. Raw instinctive panic filled her, causing her hands to hiss with electricity, but he maintained his grip on them, the singed flesh repairing itself with every passing moment.

"Did you think you could just go Elle? Rebuild and forget?" his jaw clenched, "That's just not possible."

She struggled against him, but was stuck only glaring with all her might right into those dark pools of color. This could not be happening again. She was here again, and she was losing. She pushed harder to release more electricity, but couldn't seem to without risking relinquishing control. She panted hard with effort, but never broke contact as Sylar smiled, raising a hand to brush her bangs aside, while leaving one hand pinned to the floor with his telekinesis.

"You should know better. People like us we can't be normal. Not after what we've done," his eyes turned softer, "Poor, little, damaged Elle. So lost, but too stubborn to admit it. Tell me, why haven't you opened up your file?"

She nearly gasped. How'd he know about that? "You've been watching me, you sick son of a-"

His face scrunched up as he shushed her softly, "You really ought not talk about Angela like that, no matter how true that might be. She can be quite vengeful."

Sylar read the shock off her face answered, "Oh yes, I know all about that."

"I may have overreacted," He conceded trying to explain. The grip on her hands lightened up, only the smallest bit, but still restrained her.

"You overreacted!?" she snarled, suddenly feeling a rush of boldness, "What the hell kind of excuse was that? Who qualifies killing someone as an overreaction?! Even a monster like you."

"I am not a monster, Elle," He strained to say the words, "I'm trying-"

"To be a better person?" Elle's tone mocked him, "It's too late. Don't even try to blame it on some stupid, superficial 'hunger', you already had my power."

Gabriel shook his head, so distracted by the sudden loss of control that he let her hands free. The air around them grew tenser with every passing moment. Elle stood, too caught up in her words to make another run for it, or even give him another zap.

"And you know what that means. It means that all those people you killed in the name of obtaining powers, all that was all a lie. Sure, maybe you wanted their ability, but there was more to it. You like the other kind of power. The power you have to end someone else's life, and that's what makes you a murderer. That is what makes you so unforgivable."

"You're so sure," he whispered, his eyes growing darker as she fixed him a defiant stare.

This was not going the way he had planned. She was different from the Elle he'd known. She was taking this seriously, and was no longer entertaining anymore fantasies of a sweet watchmaker's embrace. She was disgusted with him for killing, however hypocritical the opinion. How dare she condemn him for killing the same way as she had not long ago! He couldn't think about that right now. This was not going the way he had planned.

She rolled her eyes sadly and shook her head, "How could I not be? I know you all too well, Gabriel. I created you and besides it doesn't matter if you're sorry; it's too late. We've never worked, and we never will."

"I'll just have to prove you wrong then." He reached forward and pressed her body into his, and before she could react, captured her mouth in a hard kiss.

Elle released everything she had pent up in that kiss. She gasped for breath as the wave finally crashed over the both of them. The kiss did not change, it remained just as angry and demanding as it had started, but she was okay with that. She could match his rage any day.

Everything moved much faster after that. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling on his shoulders in a desperate attempt to even out the height distance. Gabriel was more than encouraged by this. His arm swooped around her back, gripping at her lower back. Her hands slid up from his broad shoulders into his hair, relishing the feel of it. He tore her trench coat from her body, feeding hungrily on the exposed flesh of her neck and collarbone.

He wanted to prove it to her. Remind her of the claim he had on her. Two people as messed up as them couldn't fit with anyone else but each other. And although she seemed all for denying that fact, he had no intentions of obliging her desire for separation. What was his was his, and that was the end of it. Besides, she needed him. She was far too frazzled and damaged to make it on her own.

His hands moved behind her, pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She gripped the collar of his shirt, and ripped it down, the buttons popping off and pilling up between them. She groaned as he stumbled to position her against the wall for more support.

In truth, Elle wanted so badly to be proven wrong. As much as she strived for normal, it was only natural to take comfort in the familiar. Gabriel's touch, rough fights, and the electric charge tingling in her hands all reminded Elle of home. All the excitement and danger of her old life, everything she was trying to give up. And here she was getting sucked right back into it.

Elle tightened her legs around his waist as they tumbled into the bedroom. Toying with a psycho's heart was never a good idea, but, then again, Elle never really was a beacon of common sense.