Disclaimer: We don't own Heroes, And if we use some of the canon quotes they are borrowed.

A/N: Here's to yall. Because that's why we write anyway and I LOVE all the feedback. Amazing.

This chapter is longer than any of the others (I think anyway) so this may be the only update this week. We'll see what happens. Anyway, have a great one! Enjoy. ~Dani

Part Five: Sylar/Gabriel

Sylar was barely conscious. He was sure he was imagining this conversation. Angela Petrelli was there, standing over him, calling him son. Calling herself his mother. She took him over, guided him, prepared him for the things that were coming.

Peter took the news the hardest. Called him a liar, tried to kill him. But he, of course, was unstoppable. He didn't worry about Peter; he only hoped that he would change his mind. In one swift moment, one that happened quicker than he realized, he went from Sylar the killer, to Noah Bennet's partner.

….

Despite the newfound family and purpose, Gabriel walked around the Company in a nameless search of something. The building was large and consisted of three wings. Some parts were built to keep people in, some were offices and others provided conditions for various experiments—procedures he was familiar with from his stay at Hotel Primatech in Odessa.

Most of the cells stood empty now, their occupiers fled during the electrical failure, the one that he and Elle caused. One of the rooms stood out from the rest, better furnished and with odd scorched marks on the walls, marks that he recognized. Even as Gabriel stood there, the workers were busy moving things out, removing everything that had once made the cell habitable.

"Elle Bishop." Sylar slid his fingers along the desk as it was taken away. Little memories stored in wood. "Is that hers?"

"Used to be," the workman corrected. "Not the best agent around but sure as hell not as bad as she was treated. No one deserves to be treated like that."

Gabriel did not understand what that meant but the man refused to say anything more. Loyalty went far inside the Company, and he was not worth the risk of being reported. Petrelli or not, he would always be Sylar to them.

Left alone in Elle's old room, Gabriel had to find the answers on his own. One of the things he had learned from his newest ability was that lives were like fingerprints—they left a mark on everything they touched.

Elle had belonged to this room. Years of her presence still lingered there, engraved in the patched furniture, written in the etching of time on the bare, stone walls. Gabriel listened the stories they told, each from a different age, and put the pieces together.

He wasn't sure why Angela gave him this gift. He guessed it was to make him appreciate lives more by replacing the empathy he lacked with a more logical attachment. Or maybe it was simply a belated birthday present from a guilty mother.

In the end, the ability was his and Gabriel could use it for whichever cause he wanted. Even to expose his mother and her plans to remove Elle Bishop—a weakness, a threat in the form of a girl—from the Company. He knew what she did but he didn't know why.

Gabriel sat on this newfound mass of information, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed for not finding her here. But that was not the end.

He would see her again. Sooner or later they would run into each other. This was how it worked. He waited for that day to come with an uneasy anticipation.

….

The short time Gabriel spent under his father's guidance was a breakthrough in many ways. Arthur seemed to know a lot, things Gabriel himself never knew about himself, things that made the killing unnecessary. Arthur told him that he was giving him a chance to try this new way, this thing that could move him past killer.

He was lead into a dark room, dark except the blue sparks that shot out towards him. He realized it was her and he took a breath. Here it became clear how much Sylar had underestimated her anger.

Shackled like a wild animal in a Pinehearst cell, she was a far cry from the angel that entered his shop a year ago. With not even enough fury to take him down, she was a broken, desperate creature, frying him through her own pain, daring him. What if his revenge got a little out of hands, what if she received more than was due? He fought that part of himself, the part of himself that wanted to grant her wish and take her life. It was too late to take back her father's death, give her back her purpose. He could only try to make it even, let her have what she wanted, what she deserved. Vengance.

"Murderer," she kept yelling at him, her voice no longer sweet or tender. Sylar did not mind. After such a long period of her absence from his life, he would take whatever she had for him. Because this was better than nothing at all.

Elle burned hot and then burned out, destroyed him too many times to keep track. She let his skin grow back, only to be burned off again. Then it happened. Through the volts of electricity, something besides Sylar's clothes had peeled off. Shreds of old Gabriel, the one she briefly knew, the one already marred when they first met, became exposed under her fury. He accepted this, full on, baring more tender flesh to her scorching anger. If that was what she wanted, he would give it to her.

In the end, he got her power. There was no blood involved, no death. After the sparks settled, there was conversation, encouragement, practice, laughter. They moved past something and toward something else. Sylar wasn't sure what to call it, nor what to expect. It was merely an ability that would connect them. Elle was part of him now and probably forever.

….

During one of their "shooting" practices, Arthur interrupted the couple and said he needed a favor from his son. Something to do with Claire. His granddaughter. Gabriel's niece.

Gabriel paused, unsure whether adding kidnapping to an already long list of crimes against his family was such a great idea. Arthur, the great leader that he was, often failed to see the little pieces that shook the grand scheme. Ones like Noah Bennet.

Elle flinched at the idea of going against him, knowing what he could do to protect his daughter, but Gabriel was already in. He even had that "yes sir" face to match it.

That was bad.

"I'm coming with you," she decided then, looking earnestly at Gabriel, then his father. Arthur saw his son shrink with concern, but Elle was capable of holding her own. After all, she was raised to be a company girl.

Gabriel could not believe what was happening. The idea that she was willing to go there with him made his head spin.

There was love, and then there was forgiveness. Elle was capable of both. He was no watchmaker any more. And he was trying not to be a killer. She once offered him redemption, forgiveness, so why couldn't she do it again?

"Are you okay with this, dad?" Gabriel held his breath.

"I think the two of you together..." the old man stalled, savoring the moment. "It's a good pairing."

….

On the plane, Elle grew restless. The nearer they got to take-off, the more it showed.

"You're nervous about Bennett," Gabriel noted. Her body language left no room for denial.

"No. Not that..."

"Then what is it?" he asked. He was worried. She could have been having second thoughts.

"It's just..." Elle looked extremely pale. "Planes," she scoffed and grabbed at the armrest. Wordlessly, Gabriel replaced it with his hand.

The plane gathered speed, the lights switched off, and the aircraft even shook a little. Elle spurted out a decent voltage, but Gabriel held fast and did not let go, not even after they had reached the safety of mid-air.

….

Elle set his shoulder and he screamed. She didn't judge him for it, didn't laugh, didn't coddle. When the pain stopped, he heard the silence, felt the silence. There was nothing in his head. He tried to move the gun that Bennett left behind. It didn't move. They were human. She asked him softly if he was ok with that.

He said it was a relief. "I've felt the hunger, the need to have power is so numbing it felt like my mind was made of cotton and ice. I haven't felt like this since, since I first met you."

She turned away from him, blamed herself, said she pushed him to be that. He defended her. He had to. He knew she was playing her role, being the Company girl. It was all she knew after all. This, Sylar, was all he knew. She said they were powerless, that they couldn't take whatever they wanted anymore.

He looked at her, saw the sadness in her eyes, the desire. They echoed his own. He was barely thinking, or maybe he was fully thinking. He was thinking about her, about them and he let the fully human feelings take over him.

"Says who?" he said.

He moved quickly, pulling her toward him in a kiss. She was surprised, he could tell by the way she responded but he kept his lips on hers. She kissed him back. It was all he'd ever wanted.

….

They were together on the kitchen floor, silent and still yet restless. She cuddled up beside him, close enough to still be part of him. She asked him if he thought it was permanent.

"Our powers going away or us?" he asked. She laughed, replied both. He said he didn't know.

She was quiet again, only for a second. "What if it is? What then?"

He let the question settle and looked at her. "Then you will get exactly what you want."

"What is that I want?" she asked him softly.

He stared at her, studied her face so he could remember it and kissed her.

"A chance," he told her, "a chance to redefine ourselves, free of power and of parents." It was ironic that he said that. They were the two things that Sylar wanted most in the world; the two things that Gabriel didn't care about at all.

She said it was scary. He added unexpected.

"What? Our powers going away or us?" she asked. Both, neither, he thought. He didn't get to answer her. He didn't know if he could anyway. Noah Bennet was shooting at them and mad as hell.

They scrambled out the door, almost completely unscathed until the bullet hit Elle's leg and she screamed. His mind was racing with worry but he dragged her out the door, leaving a trail of blood behind them. Just like Sylar always did.

….

They sat in the aisle of the drugstore, surrounded by blood and bandages. He threw money at the clerk and soothed Elle when she cried out. He told her they had to split up or Bennett would kill them both. She objected, said Bennett was stronger, he would kill him.

"Maybe I deserve it," he said.

"No," she said. "You've changed." And she shared a plan to trap Bennett; there was power in numbers.

They ran together, his arm around her waist to help her walk, hold her close in the process. This was almost over and he knew it. The escape route led them to a storage room. He saw the freight elevator before he led her in there. He pushed her into it, closed the gate, locked it from his side.

"What are you doing?" she cried. He pushed a button. Down. He wouldn't lose her now, not like this. She deserved better.

He looked at her piercing blue eyes one last time. "Goodbye Elle."

She screamed his name. Gabriel. It made his heart jump. The elevator moved down, the screams increased. Gabriel. Not Sylar but Gabriel.

He wasn't really thinking when he jumped on Bennett. He saw an opportunity and used it. Bennett pounded on him, beat him. With every hit Gabriel urged him on. No, not Gabriel. Sylar. He did it for Elle, so she could get away. Be safe. Live. Then he said Claire's name, the thing that he knew would hurt Bennett the most. She was his weakness.

Bennett had him on the ground, on his knees. A knife to his throat. Gabriel heard the elevator come back up. He saw her still in it. But it was too late. Bennett called him a nobody. The last thing he saw was the look on her face.

….

Those first breaths after death change a man. The air is so sweet that it gets sucked in, like cotton candy, Gabriel decided. At first the room was bright, too white to be real. Then he saw her, staring at him, tears in her eyes. He said her name softly after his neck wove back together.

"I thought I lost you," she said, her lips on his cheek, on his lips.

He shook his head. "You're stuck with me."

….

Gabriel never imagined bonding with his brothers over their father's death, after his last act as Sylar. But there they were, sitting together during Arthur's funeral. He wasn't going to; He and Elle had a seat in the back but Peter told him to come up. He was family, a son, a brother, and he needed to be with them. He deserved to be after everything.

Afterwards, Gabriel asked his brothers what happened next. They were all silent, all unsure. It was only slightly awkward, all these people in the same room. Nathan. Peter. Gabriel. Claire. Elle. People who were attempting to kill each other only weeks before. Now they were all silent, all together, reserved but ready to attack, to protect, if needed.

Gabriel looked at these people, his family. This was the thing he always longed for.

"Let's move forward," Peter said. "Try, at least."

Gabriel looked at his brother, his twin. "I would like that."

Elle looked at him when they stood outside the door of the Petrelli mansion.

"You're a Petrelli now," she said, looking at the new name—the new life-written on a new license Angela gave to him. "Are you ready for that?"

He looked at her. "Only if you are. My mother's a little obsessive."

Elle laughed. "I'm not going anywhere."

Gabriel smiled and kissed her. His future was in his hands, literally. He wasn't going to let it go.