A/N: Well . . . after several months, here it is. I wasn't counting on summer homework when I said I could write more during the summer. Still, I have no plans of abandoning this story. I know it will all be out before the next season of Heroes. But when I will next update, I cannot say. I'm sorry.

Chapter 12

Micah hadn't been the same since his mom died. He could admit it; he'd been highly depressed at first. He saw her death as his fault. Monica was constantly trying to cheer him up, but it hadn't worked.

Micah had lost his fascination with superheroes, and with his own powers. He had withdrawn into himself, saying nothing to nobody. He was an emotionless drone, living life on autopilot. Everything seemed to be going downhill . . . and then Hiro had showed up.

Micah had entered his bedroom only to find the strange Japanese man and his companion waiting for him. Micah had gone to scream, but in the blink of an eye, the man was behind him, hand clamped over his mouth. Superpowers. Micah hadn't felt anything on this realization. His only thought had been, this man could kill me. He had thought no further. No thoughts of how to escape, no fear of death, just acceptance.

Then the man had begun to speak.

"My name is Hrio Nakamura. I bring a message from the future. How would you like to save the world?"

Micah remembered those words. The words Linderman spoke to him. The words Linderman spoke to him before shooting his father.

Hiro had released Micah. And now, Micah could still remember the exact words the Japanese man had said when they were face to face.

"I know you're very smart Micah. And I know you're good with technology. In the future, the world will be faced with a catastrophe, and there's one man who can find the solution. Problem is, he's a serial killer, and it's unlikely the government will let him live. Unless," Hiro said, removing a diagram from his pocket, "you make this. A behavioral collar, so to speak. Only if this is made, can the world's future savior live."

Micah took the diagram, finally feeling an emotion. Disbelief. He studied the drawings, and the writing. His writing. The problem was, he didn't understand most of it. But the images intrigued him. It looked like a dog collar, but within the device was an entire computer database. A part of the collar extended on, and according to the description, the collar was supposed to attach to the base of the skull. The collar required DNA and medical technology, as well as some metals that were hard to come by.

But it was in his writing. He had written it, in whatever future Hiro had come from. And it was a challenge. Something to do, something to focus on, something to take his mind off of his mother's death.

"I'll make it," He had said. And with those words, Hiro had vanished.

Micah remembered all of this as he added the finishing touches to the collar. He glanced at the bits and pieces of what had once been a TV set, scattered at his side. Hopefully, everyone would forgive him for dismantling their only television. Although, Monica seemed to be convinced that his nonstop work was unhealthy. And true, he had lived off only a few hours of sleep each night, and had hacked every file on DNA technology by day, making sure to cover his tracks. He had even raided a lab for some equipment, though Monica didn't know that. But Micah knew he had to work. He had been lost before he had been given the collar to work on. With it, he had a goal.

Micah didn't think too much about whom the collar was for, or why it was needed. But the collar was designed to monitor changes in DNA. If the DNA changed, the collar would inject its wearer with a drug, and Micah had struggled to procure a knockout drug to load the device with. Then there was the technology he had to use so the device could be made to signal someone else of its deploying of the drug. But that was in its basic stages, as he had no idea where Hiro wanted the alert to be sent.

It was definitely a prototype. Not perfect, but ready to be quickly put into use. Or more ideally, ready to have a more perfected model made with little time. Micah made sure to take notes on everything he did, and to highlight the steps that ultimately led him to create the working collar.

Now all that was left to do was wait. Micah knew Hiro had been visiting him. He always left the collar in his room, and to protect it, he had installed a lock on his door. After his own family had stolen his comics and his dad's medal from under his nose, he wasn't taking any more chances. And it would be infinitely worse if someone got their hands on the collar's technology. But despite the locks, Micah would often open his bedroom door to find his room disturbed, the collar moved ever so slightly. It was then he concluded that Hiro checked up on his progress.

Micah set the collar down on his desk, and wrote a single message on a piece of notebook paper. 'Finished'. Micah placed the paper on top of the collar, and left the room, locking the door behind him. Now all he had to do was wait.

SSS

Peter once again had a mission. To save the world. Except this time, the world didn't need to be saved from Peter himself. The Company was putting everyone at risk. And apparently, the Ford plant in front of him was the most important base to take out. Problem was, it was huge. The thing seemed to go on for miles.

Peter had been exploring the plant in the most inconspicuous way he knew how. He was going on the pretense of wanting to buy a car. Much to a salesman's frustration, Peter had insisted on seeing every car available in the store. During this tour, in which there were many stops to examine a different car, there was very little to hint at the true nature of the Ford plant.

The only remotely suspicious thing was the abundance of 'employees only' signs, and the fact that there was a basement, but there seemed to be no way to get to it. The basement was marked on the Ford map, (seriously, the place needed a map) but no stairs were noted.

So, after a long tour, in which Peter only managed to become more discouraged, Peter decided he couldn't attack the place alone. After briskly telling the salesman he'd be back after a few days to consider his options, Peter left. He would need an army to help him. Tomorrow, Peter decided, I'll call Claire. And Matt. And whoever else I can think of. The Company won't survive.

SSS

What Peter didn't know, was that an army was coming already. But as it was, the said army was struggling to find a place to stay. They only managed to find a sum of two hundred dollars cash between them, and that couldn't exactly buy a space at a nice motel.

Mohinder finally made a decision, and pulled off at an exit promising a highly affordable rate. If they were to stop now, they would only have a little over four hours to drive the next morning.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Elle began humming happily. Sylar rolled his eyes, and glanced over at Maya. She wasn't looking at him. Once again, he was being ignored. But at least this time, she wasn't seething with hatred. That isn't to say that she wasn't angry, but she seemed to be more confused than anything else.

"Are we there?" Molly muttered sleepily from the backseat.

"We're at a motel," Matt informed her. Slowly, everyone climbed out of the van, stretching their cramped limbs.

"Don't get too comfortable," Mohinder said, heading for the entrance. "For all we know, we won't be able to afford a room."

Silently, everyone followed his lead. Inside, the motel was nice enough. It had simple furnishings, but they were in shape. There was a sitting room to the left, and there seemed to be a dining room beyond that. Right in front of them, was the sign in desk.

"Hello," Mohinder said, stepping forward. "How much for a room?"

The man behind the desk appeared bored, as he recited simply, "One hundred for one queen size bed, one fifty for two."

"I've got two hundred dollars," Mohinder said, as if looking for a solution.

"I'm sorry sir," the man replied, not sounding sorry at all. "Even assuming two people per bed, there's no way all six of you can afford your own space. We don't have extra beds to wheel into the room."

Mohinder hesitated, then turned to the rest of them.

"This may be the best deal we get," Matt said.

"I don't feel like wandering around all night," Elle said. "That would defeat the purpose. We're here to get sleep."

"And you don't want to be around me when I'm sleep deprived," Sylar said with a slight smirk.

Mohinder sighed, before turning back to the man. "We'll take the room for four."

The man simply handed over a set of keys. "Room 109," he said. "Down the hallway on your right. You'll find it."

"Right," Mohinder said, taking the keys. "Let's get our luggage."

Everyone headed back to the van to pick up the bags. Sylar wouldn't be surprised if all of them were Elle's. But just as he was about to head out and help, Maya put out a hand to stop him. Sylar turned to her, but she said nothing as everyone filed back outside.

"Yes?" Sylar asked, patience thinning.

"I want to make something clear to you," Maya said in a barely audible whisper. "If you think we're going to share a bed, you're going to be disappointed," she ended in a snarl.

Sylar felt the insane urge to laugh. While it would be amusing to force her into such a position, it would hardly help them work together. All the tension he had relieved would be back tenfold.

But Sylar prided himself on rarely becoming frazzled, so he raised an eyebrow, keeping his face impassive.

"Why Maya, what sort of man do you take me for?"

"I don't know. You kiss me one moment, you shoot me the next. Now you're kissing me again. You tell me what kind of man you are, Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" Sylar asked. Only then did it occur to him that Maya had yet to speak his name since they had been reacquainted. "Well Maya, you've just told me what you think of me," Sylar said. "Everyone else calls me Sylar. The name of a serial killer. You obviously don't see me as a killer Maya. Don't deny it. You do not use the killer's name. The only question you have is, who am I more like? Sylar, or Gabriel?"

Maya waited expectantly for him to continue. But Sylar had no intention of doing so. He headed to the front door, just as Mohinder, Matt, Molly and Elle entered once more, each carrying bags.

"Is there anything left?" Sylar asked, just to be polite. After all, he wanted to keep on their good side as much as he could.

"No," Mohinder answered. "But you can carry this one."

Sylar accepted the offered bag, and they all set off towards the room. Number 109 had a rickety doorframe, and the wood finish on the door was peeling. Mohinder dropped the luggage, and removed the cardkey. He had to put the key in the slot several times before the door unlocked.

Once the door was opened, everyone walked in, and placed the luggage on the floor, not looking at each other. Only when every delay tactic had been used did they turn to look at the room. There was a small bathroom in the corner, a desk against the wall, and two queen size beds in the center of the room. But of all the room's features, the beds got the most attention. They were decent size beds, with ugly floral sheets, and not much to look at. But the decency of the beds wasn't in question. There was only one thought on everyone's mind. Who sleeps where?

To Sylar, the answer was obvious. He and Elle weren't trusted, so they would take the floor on opposite sides of the room. Opposite sides because Sylar didn't trust Elle, or trust himself around her. Maya and Molly would take the bed closer to Elle to put all of the girls together. Elle couldn't be trusted around men, and Maya and Molly seemed to get on well enough. Matt and Mohinder would take the bed closer to Sylar, with Matt nearer to Sylar than Mohinder. That way everyone would feel comforted that a mind reader was close at hand to protect everyone, and Mohinder would feel less threatened. It seemed Matt and Mohinder had been parenting Molly together, so it shouldn't be as awkward.

But of course, no one else seemed to know what to do. This amused Sylar greatly. The solution was so simple to him. Sure, his solution wouldn't make everyone happy, but there was no solution that would. At least his way, he knew they'd all wake up in the morning.

The one who was having the greatest trouble coming up with a solution was Mohinder. His brow was furrowed, and he was biting his lip. It was a very comical expression. And it was then that Sylar came up with an idea. Humor is the best medicine after all, and a fast way to relieve tension. If everything went well, the group would be livened up. If not . . . well, things would get messy. And Sylar knew his sense of humor wasn't generally accepted. But now was the time to act.

If you're reading my mind Parkman, I'm joking, Sylar thought for good measure. Now for the show.

Sylar glided over to Mohinder, along the way trying to clue Molly into the fact that he wasn't being serious. It would be no good to scare her off again. He stopped directly in front of the doctor, and quickly rearranged his face into a proper expression for his plan.

"Mohinder," Sylar purred, in a soft almost seductive voice.

"What?" Mohinder asked, finally actually looking at Sylar instead of staring off into space.

"You know, all you have to do is ask. No need to look so worried about the outcome."

"Ask what?"

SSS

Molly was bone tired. That big meal and all that dancing had worn her out. Especially dancing with Sylar. That was one of the most stressful moments of her life. And though she now was more comfortable around Sylar, more assured he wouldn't kill her, she still tended to watch him out of the corner of her eye. So when he began to approach Mohinder, she immediately noticed. And then, Sylar did something strange.

He winked at her. Molly blinked, thinking she had imagined it. Sylar was now acting completely normal. But why had be winked? No one else had seemed to notice. It had

to be her imagination . . .

And then Sylar spoke. "Mohinder," he purred, and Molly was horrified. He sounded like the leading man in a romance movie at the moment he tells the girl he loves her. That wasn't normal. And then Molly remembered. Sylar had said he had a sense of humor. Maybe she was about to see it in practice?

SSS

"Ask what?" Mohinder asked, a completely bewildered expression on his face. Sylar knew the next line would require his total concentration to refrain from laughing at the expression that was likely to appear on Mohinder's face, and on everybody else's. So, he hardened his resolve, and plowed on.

"To share a bed with me," Sylar said as if it was obvious, and that everybody knew it was on Mohinder's mind. Mohinder managed to choke on his own spit. Sylar kept a seductive smirk in place, not one stray laugh threatening to escape, despite the loud gasp that came from behind him. Whether it was Maya or Elle, Sylar couldn't tell.

"I know you want my body bad, Mohinder," Sylar purred, "You're a devilishly beautiful man yourself." Mohinder started turning purple as blood rose to his face, both in anger and embarrassment. Sylar knew he would say something at any moment, so he quickly continued, somehow managing to keep his voice from sounding rushed.

"Don't worry about privacy, Mohinder. You'd be amazing what can go on under the sheets unnoticed." Now Mohinder looked distinctly ill. Once again, Sylar tried hard not to laugh.

"You're homosexual?!" shrieked Elle. She had kissed Sylar. Now she felt a strong urge to wipe her lips clean. That was just . . . awkward. To her, kissing a gay guy would be like kissing another girl. But as soon as Elle processed these thoughts, her mind managed to fill itself with ideas of going shopping with Sylar. Weren't gay men supposed to love to shop? Elle immediately began to berate herself for clinging to the stereotype.

Maya looked like she was about to have a heart attack. It was one thing to have a straight man lead you on, another thing completely to be seduced by a gay one. It definitely answered her question about who Gabriel was more like. If Gabriel was gay, then Gabriel never existed. Now, he was just Sylar.

Unlike the two girls, Matt was biting his lower lip, trying not to laugh at everyone's expression. But Molly beat him to the laughter.

Everyone turned in shock as Molly exploded into a fit of giggles, and slowly slid to the floor, rocking with the force of each laugh. Soon she was clutching her side, tears of mirth sliding down her face, her laughter replaced by gasps for air. She had needed to laugh. She hadn't laughed in such a long time.

At Molly's cue, Sylar lost the seductive look and smiled, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"Wait a minute . . ." Mohinder began, feeling lost. He didn't like being the butt of a joke.

"Sorry, not gay," Sylar said, with a no-hard-feelings sort of grin. "I don't like you that way." A conspiratorial crossed Sylar's face as he thought of something to add. "Besides, we all know you have a huge crush on Matt."

"I do not!" Mohinder protested. But it was too late. Everyone, even Maya and Elle, were now laughing. Watching everybody else laugh managed to bring a smile to Mohinder's face. Though he didn't like being the butt of a joke, he knew he wasn't being laughed at. They were sort of laughing with him, but only if he laughed too. So Mohinder let out a chuckle, and was surprised to find it was genuine. Molly wasn't afraid, and everyone seemed to be unified. That was worth any price. And thinking back, it was sort of funny that he could have fallen for Sylar's act.

SSS

Elle was slightly disappointed. She had never had a gay friend, and wondered what it would be like. But then again, she reasoned, she had never had a friend at all. But the overall feeling was a happy one, and Elle was filled with a sense of fondness for Sylar. As well as being powerful, he could be funny too!

SSS

Maya felt her heart rate slowing down to normal. She was angry at Gabriel for doing that to her, but at the same time, she couldn't help but smile. Now that she knew the truth behind it, the look on Mohinder's face was priceless. Now she knew something new about Gabriel. He liked manipulating Mohinder, but he seemed to enjoy everybody's laughter more. But was he gay or wasn't he? Could she really prove it one way or another? He was a marvelous actor.

Matt finally calmed down enough to choke out a few words. "I know you don't love me Mohinder, at least not that way." Matt took in Maya's confused expression. "Don't worry Maya, it's just his sense of humor. He's straight."

"How do you know?" Maya asked, sounding surprised.

Matt snorted. "Mind reader, remember?" And then he leaned forward so only Maya could hear. "And he may not admit it, not even to himself, but he loves you." Maya's eyes widened. More like Gabriel then. From the way everyone described Sylar, he couldn't feel love.

"He'd kill you anyway for your power, though. Just to let you know." Matt added.

Oh well, Maya thought to herself. At least there's some good in there. I'll just have to be careful around him. And unless he reforms fast, he still needs to die.

Mohinder smiled, actually incredibly happy. No one was arguing, no one was panicked. Whether Sylar had intended it or not, he had created peace where Mohinder had thought it was impossible for it to exist. But after all that, they still didn't know who was sleeping where.

"And don't worry, Mohinder. I know where everyone can sleep so they won't kill each other," Sylar said.

Mohinder sighed at Sylar's know-it-all tone. It was going to be a long night.

SSS

The next morning, Peter started making phone calls. He needed all the help he could get. The first person he thought of to call was Claire. As much as he hated dragging his niece into the mess, she was invincible as far as he could tell. Both of them were, and as long as they could keep their brains intact, and didn't lose their heads, they could be unstoppable.

Peter punched in Claire's cell phone number. She had given it to him the last time they had been acquainted. It rang several times before she picked up.

"Hello?" Claire's voice came over the line.

"Hey Claire."

"Peter?" Claire sounded surprised and wary. Peter supposed that made sense. The last time he had called her, it was to deliver news of her biological father's death. Peter quickly pushed the thought away to avoid becoming choked up.

"I have a mission Claire. A mission where a lot of lives could be saved. I need you to help me take down the Company."

There was silence on the other end.

"Claire?" Peter asked.

"I'm here," she sighed. "Look, Peter, the last time I threatened to expose the Company, things didn't turn out so well. My father barely gets time to see me, and my boyfriend is being forced to work for them."

"But if we attack, it could set them free! If we win—"

"That's a very big if Peter. If we lose, which is far more likely, things will only get much worse for everyone."

"But Claire, it won't be just us," Peter reasoned. "I'm going to put a call in with Matt Parkman, the mind reader. He could help. We can win this! Don't you want to take them down?"

Claire hesitated before answering. "I do want to," she said, anger dripping from each word. "But the risk is high." Claire sighed. "But maybe you're right. Maybe we will win."

Claire sighed once more. "My dad's visiting again tonight. I'll ask him about it. But Peter, I'm telling you now. If he doesn't like the idea of this attack, I won't be helping you. I'll call you back and give you my decision later tonight."

"I understand," Peter said as relief flooded him at getting her partial agreement. "Tell him I'll have Matt Parkman. And that we're going after the facility in Columbus Ohio."

"Is that all?" Claire asked.

"That's all for now."

"Peter?" Cllaire asked, a desperate note in her voice. Peter waited for a continuation, but Claire was silent.

"Claire?" he prodded.

"Be careful," she choked out. "I can't lose you too." And with that, she hung up.

SSS

Morning at the hotel was eventful to say the least. They weren't awoken by the alarm clock, though they had set the alarm. They were awoken by a high-pitched, slightly muffled scream.

Sylar woke up immediately, jumping to his feet, his hands aglow with the power of ice. Pain arched through his stiff back at the sudden movement. Sleeping on the floor wasn't fun. Elle was rising off the floor from the other side of the room, a dazed expression on her face. Maya and Molly blinked sleepily. And by the time the girls woke up, Sylar had already analyzed the situation, and began to laugh.

It seemed Matt had managed to roll on top of Mohinder in his sleep. The muffled girly scream had come from Mohinder, who was being crushed under Matt's weight. Everyone watched in amusement as Mohinder struggled to free himself, and Matt snored on, completely oblivious.

"Help," Mohinder finally choked out. Sylar, who didn't want such an amusing scene to vanish, helped only reluctantly. He telekinetically lifted Matt off Mohinder. This caused Matt to yell out, and a very thankful Mohinder to roll to the floor, coughing and spluttering.

"Put me down!" Matt cried out. Sylar raised an eyebrow, and dropped him unceremoniously back onto the bed.

"Ouch!" Matt yelped. But it hadn't hurt. It was his automatic reaction to being dropped.

Molly, Maya and Elle were still giggling. Mohinder scowled, stood up, walked across the room, and locked himself in the bathroom.

"He's not a morning person, is he?" Elle asked.

"Not at all," Sylar answered before Matt could speak. "I spent a few days with him, and he about ripped my head off each morning. Someone should get him a coffee. It will improve his mood."

Maya felt uncomfortable at Gabriel's casual tone. Things shouldn't be so casual. They were on a mission to take out an organization. Plus, several in the room had killed before. Things should be anything but casual. And yet they were. Maya had even found herself thinking how wonderful Gabriel's laugh was. Perhaps that was a good thing that everyone was so comfortable around one another. It meant no one was killing one another.

Everyone had slept in their clothes, most not having anything to change into, and those that did were to uncomfortable to be anything but completely dressed with such company.

"First thing we're doing, before taking on the Company or anything," Sylar grumbled as he straightened out his shirt, "Is lifting new clothes."

"Don't you mean buying?" Maya asked. Gabriel looked at her, and Maya felt shivers go down her spine. He wasn't smirking, or looking at all evil, like he had ever since she had accused him of killing her brother. He looked human. He looked like Gabriel again. And for the first time, Maya realized, he didn't look as if he was planning something. It was a look he had always had before, and now it was gone. Maybe that meant it would be more peaceful traveling with him?

But Maya quickly focused to hear Gabriel's answer.

"Buy with what money, Maya? We've only got fifty dollars left."

"And that's for breakfast," Matt quickly said. "I'm starved."

"Food first," Molly yawned. Sylar was amused to see how fearless she now was. And now, facing the Company was no longer a far off dream. They were traveling to the Company base that day. Sylar knew once they got there they would need to figure out the best course of action, and then there was always—

Suddenly the song Holding out for a Hero erupted throughout the room. Everyone jumped. The bathroom door flew open, and Mohinder exited, still toweling off his hands. In unison, the whole room glared at Matt who sheepishly pulled his cell phone from a small luggage bag.

"You idiot!" Elle raged in a quiet hiss. "Why do you have your phone on?! The Company is probably tracking the signal right now! They know you're missing! Turn it off!"

"No," Matt said, snapping the phone open. Elle looked as if she were about to implode, but her expression changed the moment Matt addressed the man on the line.

"Hello, Peter."

"Peter Petrelli?" Elle asked, remembering their electrifying kiss.

"Who?" Maya asked, now completely lost.

"Peter Petrelli," Sylar seethed. The man who refused to die. Sylar had impaled him with a shard of glass, only to get taken out himself. Later, he found Peter still alive. Sylar wanted New York to explode. He had wanted to be president and therefore, be the most special person in existence. A dream that now seemed so far away. However, now that he had his powers back, he might be able to return to that dream . . .

But that was besides the point. Sylar had intended to take out New York, and only Peter was standing in his way. As they fought, Sylar was surprised to be losing. He had been winded with a parking meter that a woman had delivered with a blow no doubt enhanced with super strength. Then Peter had began to punch him. Sylar remembered being dazed, and unable to stop Peter from delivering each blow. But he also remembered getting happier with each punch. Peter was losing his temper. And Sylar knbew two things. One: Peter had every power he had. Two: the nuclear power was harder to control under any strong emotion, especially anger and fear.

Then Sylar had laughed, because he knew he had won the war. Peter's hands began to glow. Sylar had been ecstatic. He hated the idea of killing so many, even if they would further his goal. Sure, he had built up to it, imagined it, tried to glorify it, but unlike with his other killings, he couldn't convince himself he could enjoy it. So he had laughed, and known that Peter would be the terrible villain to destroy New York. And he, Sylar, would be the hero leading people out of the darkness. He could survive the blast because nuclear power doesn't affect one who contains the energy. And debris could be kept away from him with telekinesis. It was perfect!

But then, there was the Japanese man with the sword. Sylar knew he was dying, but he was incapable of giving up. He wasted his last bit of energy ensuring Peter wouldn't be killed, so New York could properly explode. If New York exploded as planned, Sylar knew there would still be a chance, if he survived, of becoming president. But of course, Peter ruined it all, and didn't destroy the city. And now, he was back to taunt Sylar again, and was on the other end of that stupid phone.

It took all of his self-control not to smash the phone then and there. Matt had been silent so far, but then he spoke.

"That's a coincidence, because I've already got a group of people here with the same idea." More silence. "That's right. They all want to take the Company out." Silence once more. "Oh, we've got all sorts of talent here. We've got Mohinder, who knows some inside Company secrets, Molly can locate anyone, but I don't want her involved, we've got Elle . . . oh, you've met? . . . yes, well believe it or not, she wants to help and I have no reason to believe she's lying. We've got a woman named Maya who releases a virus ten times worse than the black plague . . . yes, she can control it . . ." Matt turned from the phone.

"Maya, can you direct your attacks?" he asked.

Maya blanched. Somehow, she had forgotten that taking down the Company involved killing people. But, Maya soothed herself, it's for the good of all those with abilities.

"I can get close to one person, and only affect them," she said, then paused to think. "I can learn."

"She can," Matt said into the phone. There was more silence. "Alright. We'll meet you there." Matt hung up.

"You forgot Gabriel," Maya protested.

"There's good reason he didn't mention me," Sylar snarled. "Peter and I have a history. I refuse to work with him."

"You have to!" Matt spluttered. "We need all the help we can get!" Sylar was about to snap back when Elle interrupted.

"Seriously Sylar, there's a good chance we won't all make it out alive. That Company facility has more security and weapons than it seems to be humanly possible. Just think! You and Peter! Together, you'd be unstoppable!"

"Only problem Elle, is I want his power. I need it. There's no way I can guarantee that I can resist killing him."

"But you have his power!" Elle said, somewhat shocked.

"No," Sylar insisted. "For one thing, he's collecxted a whole assortment of powers I don't have. For another, Peter doesn't have to kill. He can pick up abilities without knowing it. And it doesn't corrupt his DNA to do so. At the rate I'm going, I'll accidentally alter one vital part of my DNA structure, and erase a power, or become unstable. I need his power."

"Gabriel, please," Maya begged. "It seems this Peter could help us. I don't want you to murder for personal gain. We must only kill the enemy. Right now, Peter isn't your enemy."

Sylar looked at her. Somehow, she had managed to pull off a wonderful puppy-dog-eyes expression that was almost heartbreaking. How was it that she could toy with his emotions so easily? He was going soft. And then Maya switched tactics and said something unexpected.

"If you try to kill him, or anyone of us, I will kill you, and I will not hesitate."

Sylar could see the truth in her eyes. He admired her. Gone was the naïve Maya he had known. She had grown into something wonderful. And powerful. She wasn't as trusting, and she had it in her to be manipulative, and to be a killer. He had taught her well. But yet, he could still see within her the loving, caring and understanding persona he had come to know. She was truly a wonderful person. And she could kill him. Sylar knew this. He also knew, deep in his heart, that he and Peter would make an unstoppable team if they could put aside their differences and work together.

"I understand," Sylar finally said. "And get rid of that cell Matt. Elle is right, it's just asking for trouble."

Matt turned the phone off. The room was silent.

"So what now?" Molly asked.

"Breakfast!" Matt enthusiastically inputted. Sylar sighed. He knew that it was going to be a very taxing day.

SSS

A/N: So that's the end of that chapter. I really am sorry for keeping you waiting. There's at least two chapters left, a maximum of five. All of them will be out, however many there will be, before the next season of Heroes. Once again, I apologize.