Peter cleaned up the mess in the living room while Sylar showered. When the other man came out, dressed and toweling off his hair, Peter paused to admire him. He is sex on legs. That is … just amazing. Seriously amazing. Someone who looks like that actually likes me enough to fuck. Peter chortled to himself and went back to vacuuming, hoping he was getting all the stray bits of glass and wood from the shattered coffee table. He'd already picked up everything that he could see with the naked eye.

"What's so funny?" Sylar asked.

Peter shrugged, turning off the vacuum. He was pretty sure he'd gotten everything. "I … I just feel like I'm so lucky, I guess. Happy." Things are working out! You're nice. You like me. You're healed. I've got Claire's blood and now all we have to do is get Mohinder to do the same thing he's done before.

Sylar walked over to him and slid his hand along Peter's cheek, leaning in to kiss him. Peter tilted and responded. "You like this?" Sylar asked, and Peter felt that liberal hint of manipulation again.

"Yes, I do," he answered honestly, even while he was thinking, What the hell is that feeling I keep getting from him?

"I like it, too." That, too, was the truth and this time without the sense that Sylar was working an ulterior motive.

Whatever. Peter dismissed the information his weird ability was giving him and went to put the vacuum cleaner away. He glanced back to see Sylar pick up the bag of blood and examine it. Peter called out, "Now that we have that, we can find Mohinder, have him make the cure, and then you'll be taken care of."

Sylar looked from Peter to the bag and then back again. "What are you going to do then?"

"What, after you're cured?"

"Yes," Sylar said, with the slightest tone of vulnerability.

Peter felt butterflies at that modulation of Sylar's voice. He cares! "I'm going to go back to the Company and see what I can do to fix things there." Sylar frowned down at the bag in his hand. Peter walked closer and asked, "Would you come with me?"

Sylar's head snapped up. "Come with you?"

"Yeah."

"To …?"

"To help me stop all the messed up crap the Company has been doing and make things right. You know a lot about abilities. You know the impact they can have on someone. You could help people."

Sylar's lips quirked upwards into a not-quite-a-smile. "I'm not the savior kind, Peter."

"You said at Kirby Plaza that you thought you were the hero. This could be your chance."

With way more wariness and caution than his tone of voice conveyed, Sylar said, "I don't have any abilities. What could I do?"

"Well, for one thing you could help me with that research wing. There's got to be stuff they're working on that's ethical and useful, but I haven't been able to cull it apart from the rest."

Sylar cocked his head. "You'd … really trust me with something like that?"

"Why not? You said you hoped you could change."

Sylar pulled in a deep breath and let it out. "You're serious!" he said disbelievingly.

"Yes, I am," Peter responded gravely. "I can't think of anyone else who would be more aware of how careful they should be when they're playing with people's lives."

"I …" Sylar gave Peter a momentary suspicious glance, then shut his mouth, looking down and thinking. Then he looked up and nodded, saying in an uncharacteristically small and uncertain voice, "If you'll have me."

"I'd love to," Peter said softly, moving to hook his hand around the taller man's neck and pull him down for another kiss. "I know you have a lot of skeletons in the closet. Let me know if it's too much for you, okay?"

"Sure," Sylar said, smiling through the insecurity that was surging inside of him.

Peter nodded and backed off, thinking it was getting to be too much already. He changed the subject to something more action-oriented. "Okay, we're ready then. Let's go find Mohinder."


As they walked down the hall towards Mohinder's lab, Peter couldn't stop the memories of his other times here from surfacing. He'd visited here with Simone, meeting her boyfriend Isaac, the one she preferred and ultimately dumped Peter for. Peter had argued with him, taunted him and in the end incited the man to try to murder him, inadvertently causing Simone's death. For a moment of quiet, they'd both had driven home to them how fragile life was and how easily rage and arrogance could ruin everything. Then Isaac had tried to kill him again, of course.

As Peter walked past the glass walls, this time accompanied by a different killer than Isaac, Peter could see someone was working within. The place was different. The room Peter had last seen as an artist's loft was now cluttered with scientific equipment. The door bore a placard that read, 'Reed Street Laboratories'. Peter tried the door. It was unlocked, so he pushed it open. Sylar crowded him, briefly bumping Peter, obviously wanting him to rush inside. Peter ignored his rude companion and called out, "Hello? Mohinder?" He heard Sylar hiss briefly behind him, but Peter didn't budge from the doorway.

Mohinder's educated, exotic accent greeted him. "Yes?" The man came around where he could see the door clearly. "Peter?" He paused, obviously thinking, then he brightened as he placed Peter's last name. "Peter Petrelli. It's good to see you. Come in. Who's your friend?"

Peter turned back, not sure how Mohinder could have failed to recognize Sylar, but he found that his 'friend' had ducked to the side and was mostly turned away. He was also slouching a lot, though from inside the room that probably wasn't apparent. Peter didn't know what to do or say about that, so he walked on inside, leaving the door open. Well, I didn't think this would be easy to explain. Sylar and I probably should have planned or something.

"He's someone who needs your help," Peter said, walking over to the table next to Mohinder and depositing the paper bag he'd been carrying. From it he produced the bag of Claire's blood.

Mohinder, who had been frowning at the man darkening his doorstep, was immediately distracted. "What's that?" he asked.

"Claire Bennet's blood."

Mohinder sucked in air and his eyes widened. "An entire bag? Oh my …" He sounded like he was salivating.

A female voice, differently accented, sounded from one of the side rooms. "Mohinder? Is someone here?"

"Maya! Yes!" Mohinder called out excitedly. "Come here. I want you to meet Peter Petrelli. He has an ability that might be a great boon to my research and he brought me something even more valuable." He held up the blood bag reverently.

The scientist's words took Peter's thoughts to the research wing atOdessa, and the glimpses he'd seen of their 'research' on Sylar's ability. His voice cold, he asked, "What sort of boon would I be to your research?" He thought about how a couple years earlier, Mohinder had initially disbelieved that Peter even had an ability, dismissing him and acting like Peter was delusional. Peter had not appreciated that.

Mohinder didn't seem to notice Peter's turn of mood. He went on enthusiastically, "Oh! I would want to start with a blood sample and then perhaps certain critical tissues. After that, I don't know. I've been trying to isolate the part of the brain that contro-"

"No!" Peter interrupted, aghast and kind of thrown that Mohinder was going in exactly the same direction as the Company. Something occurred to him in a flash as he recalled that Mohinder had previously been a taxi driver and fairly impoverished. Nathan's advice about following the money echoed in his head. "Who's funding this?"

"What?" Mohinder asked, surprised by being rudely cut off and asked such an odd question.

"Who is funding this?" Peter waved at the loft. "This lab, all this stuff - it's expensive. Who set you up?"

"Oh … well …" Mohinder eyed Peter like he might not be nearly so friendly as Mohinder had previously thought, but he answered anyway. "A Mr. Bishop did. He's with a company that studies people like yourself."

Peter barely stopped himself from taking a step back. "People like me?" he asked quietly, swallowing. 'Us and them', a phrase he'd picked up while at the Odessa facility rang in his mind. There was a clear dividing line in people's minds between the trustworthy, mundane people and the barely controlled, dangerous specials they worked with, studied and captured. It was an odd attitude for a company run by specials to have, but on the other hand, the leadership had not been on the best of terms with one another, much less strangers. Anyone with an ability was a potential threat.

Mohinder watched Peter attentively, not understanding the reaction he was seeing. He hefted the nearly full plastic bag. "What's this for?"

Peter stared at it, remembering his mission here. "There's …" He took a deep breath and relaxed. He had to be friendly. He had to work with Mohinder. "There's a virus the Company has released, has injected some people with, that's lethal within a few months to anyone like me, who has an ability."

"Ah, yes," Mohinder nodded, listening. He seemed familiar with what Peter was talking about. He was familiar with it, he had the means to make a cure, and he had apparently done nothing to make more than the bare two doses he'd made previously. Peter had asked Claire if Mohinder had been by and she'd heard nothing of him. It perplexed Peter and did not elevate his opinion of Dr. Suresh. It had occurred to Peter that, as someone without an ability, Mohinder might not be all that motivated to eradicate a disease like this.

Maya spoke up, saying, "Like the one Sylar had?"

"Exactly," Peter said. "I need you to make the cure for that."

Mohinder blinked at Peter for a moment, and then proved that for all his frequent obliviousness, he had a few brain cells to rub together. In a bare whisper that Peter needed his enhanced hearing to make out, Mohinder said, "That's Sylar, at the door, isn't it? Why are you helping him? What does he have on you?"

Maya frowned at Mohinder, trying to make out why he was whispering too softly for her to hear.

Peter shook his head and answered at a normal volume. "I'm doing this because I want to. I'm trying to make things right. The Company has ruined a lot of people's lives. It's time to start using those resources to make things better."

Mohinder stared at Peter, his brows climbing as high as possible as his mouth dropped open. "And … and you think healing Sylar will make things better?" he asked in total disbelief.

"Sylar?" Maya said, looking between the two men. Then, with a gasping intake of breath, she looked up at the door and stepped back. With an angry and terrified tone of voice, she almost shrieked, "Sylar!"

Peter hardly needed to glance back to confirm that Sylar had indeed revealed himself.

Sylar's voice rang out around an insufferable grin, "Hi, Maya, Mo. Did you miss me?" He sounded like he was gloating, which Peter wasn't happy about, but given that the man had been beaten badly enough to have broken bones by Mohinder, Maya and Elle, Peter could certainly understand the enmity.

Maya hissed out, "This time I will end you! I don't care who else dies!"

Peter heard a pained, angry groan from Sylar as Mohinder croaked out, "Maya!" Peter felt an ache between his eyes and a burning sensation along his skin. He staggered back, his eyes suddenly sore and his nose burning now as well. He blinked away the dark haze that had dropped over his vision and felt another ability integrate. Instantly, the symptoms vanished and he knew what she was doing.

Peter glanced back to see Sylar clutching the rail of the stairs down from the landing of the door. Sylar was staring at Peter, not Maya, blackness skimming over his eyes. The expression on his face was pleading. When he saw Peter was looking at him, Sylar rasped out, "Peter? Please. You're the only one who can …" His throat seemed to fail him as he choked.

From the floor, Mohinder managed, "Kill him, Maya!"