Sylar's eyes moved rapidly back and forth behind closed eyelids a small sweat breaking out on his forehead. He was surrounded by darkness running where? He didn't know, but he couldn't escape whatever it was that was chasing him. His footsteps echoed in his mind as they slapped the dirty city alley street. The rain poured down upon him and his heart raced as he reached a dead end.
There before him was a large chain length fence, and as he started to climb the fence, it continued to grow longer and longer. The overwhelming need to reach the top plunged him further up the never ending fence until he could see nothing but miles of fence line leading up to the darkened rainy skies. The rain obscured his vision, and he felt his muscles shake. He couldn't hold on much longer. He gasped looking back down into the endless void below as he struggled to hold on to the fence.
The wind picked up, its speed shifting the fence to and fro as the roaring rain pounded down onto to him and he finally lost his grip. He screamed out, "Noooo!" as he fell into what seemed oblivion. His screams were abruptly cut off as he felt strong hands clasp a hold of him and stop his descent into the void. He swiveled his head back eyes wide with shock to see Peter flying them upward as he said, "Don't worry; I've got you."
Sylar gasped sitting straight up. His heart was pounding in his ears as he thought, 'Just a dream! It was just a dream.' He spun around to see Peter was sitting next to him, and a chill ran up his spine as he wondered what the dream could have meant.
As Peter was considering his options, he looked over at Sylar and noticed that he was tossing and turning. He wondered if he could tap into someone's dream, but didn't attempt it. Then he wondered if he should try to wake him up. He said, "Sylar?"
A few seconds later Sylar sat up suddenly. Peter listened to Sylar's thoughts as he woke up, and gave Sylar a sympathetic look. "Bad dream?"
Peter's resolve seemed so unshakable. Sylar wanted to get under his skin; he wanted to push Peter into either giving him over to the company so he didn't have to face his failures or make Peter kill him to put him out of the misery of living trapped in a child's body with Peter as his prison guard. He seethed as he thought, 'Just do it Peter! Kill me! I can't live like this! I won't live in your shadow to be constantly reminded that you're more special than me!' Sylar's frustration reached a boiling point as he glared at Peter angrily and spat, "What's it to you if I have a bad dream? As far as I'm concerned this whole situation is going to be just one long bad dream. You can't keep me here trussed up like this forever! When I get away, and I will; believe me when I say that I'll make you all pay for doing this to me! I'll find a way to get my powers back again, and I'll kill you and take yours!"
Peter was sure it wouldn't be appreciated, but the strongest emotion he felt for Sylar at this point was pity. He shook his head, leaned over, and started to untie Sylar's feet. As he worked on the knots he said, "I'm not keeping you tied up, but I am keeping you here. What are you gonna do if you get away? You need to use your head here and think about the situation. It doesn't have to be a nightmare to stay here. How are you going to keep yourself fed with no money and no way to make money?"
Peter had gotten the knots undone, and took the rope off Sylar's feet. Then he started working on the rope that was around the couch while he waited to see what Sylar's response would be.
Sylar couldn't help the deep seeded frown the found its way across his face as he thought, 'He's right. I've got nowhere to go, and I really don't want to be out there on the street again especially stuck in this body.' He watched Peter untie his feet as he said darkly, "I'd survive. I always have. Living here might not be a nightmare for me, but it might become a nightmare for you," he warned.
Peter had gotten the rope off the couch, and worked on the ropes that were holding Sylar's hands behind his back. "I'm sure you would survive, I just doubt it would be very pleasant. Now I don't know about you, but I want to know if you're going to stay in this state and grow normally, or if you're going to wake up as an adult one day. How about you give me the address of whoever did this to you, and we'll go find out everything we can about your... condition."
He finished getting the last knot out, and the rope came off Sylar's wrists.
Sylar watched Peter curiously as he was untied and thought, 'I'd like to find out about that bitch's powers to. I hope he's right about it wearing off, if it doesn't, I'm screwed.' He smiled down at Peter as he said, "She lives in Queens; I don't remember the address anymore, but I remember the girl's name⦠Alice Monroe."
Peter was pleased that Sylar hadn't tried to run after getting untied. Not that it would have done him much good, but it meant that he was calming down enough to think about things. "Okay, let's look up her address in the phone book."
Peter leaned over and picked up the phone book which was on the table next to the couch. He looked her up and found the address. He wrote her address on some scrap paper that he found on the end table, and then put the book away. He stood and looked down at Sylar. "We need to go shopping first and get you some clothes that actually fit you. You look like a runaway."
Sylar gave himself a once over forgetting what he'd been wearing. He turned his palms up inspecting the dirt smudges he was covered in before turning a smirk up at Peter replying, "Yea, new clothes and a shower would be nice."
There were no windows in Peter's bathroom, so he said, "There are clean towels on the shelf behind the toilet. Go ahead and take a shower. I'll see if I can scrounge up something to fit you.
Sylar looked down the hall before looking back up at Peter warily saying, "Thanks," before walking down the hall and into the bathroom. He thought as he went, 'How can he be so relaxed around me? Doesn't he realize who I am?' He sighed reaching up on tip toes to turn on the bathroom light, 'Who am I kidding?' He thought looking at his sad reflection in the bathroom mirror, 'I'm a nobody all over again.'
He closed the door locking it for piece of mind even though he knew Peter could open it if he really wanted to. He turned the shower on and stripped the woman's stolen clothes off climbing into the shower. He picked up the soap marveling at how small his hands were now, and as he looked around the shower it became more apparent to him his predicament and place in the world.
His aloneness was overwhelming. Before he'd had his powers, and he didn't need anyone because he felt invincible, and before his powers he'd had his mother, and no matter how annoying she'd been, he'd felt she'd at least wanted to love him even if he could never measure up to her expectations. Now what did he have? He felt vulnerable and ineffectual. He knelt down onto the shower floor curling into a ball as he let himself softly cry out his misery under the loud roar of the pounding waters.
