Peter let Sylar sleep and went to the living room to relax and read for a while. When five o'clock rolled around Peter went to the kitchen and started cooking some rice, peas, and pork chops for dinner thinking the smell would wake Sylar up.

The smell had in fact rose Sylar from his sleep, but he was still in a sour mood from earlier and chose to stay in bed just so he didn't have to face Peter for a little while longer.

Peter kept his mind tuned to Sylar and knew he was both awake and avoiding him. He hoped this mood of Sylar's didn't manifest itself into a fight between them, but wasn't going to apologize for his abilities. He also wasn't going to let Sylar wallow in self pity for losing his since, in Peter's opinion, he'd misused them. He put the cooked food on a couple of plates and put them on the table. He walked over to Sylar's bed and said, "Dinner's ready. Come over to the table and eat please."

Sylar was hungry but his irritation outweighed his stomach's complaints as he mumbled into his sheets, "I'm not hungry. I want to sleep a little longer."

Crossing his arms at the obvious lie Peter said, "It wasn't a suggestion. Get up, and come to the table to eat."

Sylar growled angrily under the sheets, "Or what? Are you going to force shovel the food down my throat? I'm not hungry; just leave me alone Peter."

Peter's first impulse was to pick Sylar up and put him in his chair, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. Instead he said, "If you refuse to come to the table and eat a couple of bites of food, then you can have thirty minutes solitary confinement while I eat. I'll put your plate in the refrigerator and you can warm it up later, but I'm warning you, we won't be home again for at least two or three hours."

Sylar thought about Peter's words, 'Solitary confinement? That'd be perfect since I don't want to be around you right now anyway. I can stay hungry for a little while longer just to prove a point that you won't tell me what to do.' He spat angrily, "Fine! Although I think it's a little unfair of you to exert your will over me like a tyrant just because I'm tired and not hungry."

Peter shook his head at how stubborn Sylar was being. He turned and walked back to the kitchen thinking that a few swats would be much more effective, and that he should never have agreed to solitary as a punishment. He put some plastic wrap over Sylar's plate and put it in the refrigerator. Then he took one of the kitchen chairs away from the table, and set it facing the make-shift corner between the wall and the refrigerator. He walked back to Sylar's bed and said, "Solitary doesn't get to be in your bed. Get up, and follow me."

Sylar's anger was growing as he flipped the sheet back to look at Peter with a scowl. His eyes squinted hatefully at him boring a hole into the back of Peter's head as he followed him into the kitchen. Once he saw that Peter meant to have him sit in the corner his rage turned to fury as he spat, "You want me to sit in the corner?! That's ridiculous! I'm not going to do that! If you don't want me sleeping, you can make me sit on the couch, but I'm NOT sitting in the corner!" Sylar crossed his arms defiantly staring up at Peter as he thought, 'When I agreed to solitary confinement, I didn't agree to THIS!'

Peter crossed his arms as well and said with a calm he didn't feel, "Solitary confinement is supposed to be an unpleasant punishment. Sitting on the couch or staying in your bed for half an hour isn't something you will try to avoid in the future. If your original choice had been to come to the table and eat a few bites or get spanked, I'm pretty sure you would have come to the table. And maybe now that you know what solitary confinement is going to entail, you'll work on avoiding it in the future."

Sylar's blood froze in his veins and his eyes widened momentarily at the mention of getting spanked as he thought, ' I'd better tone it down a bit and just sit in the stupid corner, I don't think I could stand getting spanked again.' He managed to keep an icy stare on Peter for a moment longer before responding, "Whatever. You get your way Peter, I don't want to eat, and you punish me for it. I hope you feel like a big man now." He stormed over to the chair climbing up into it and tucking his feet up so his knees were scrunched against his chest with his arms wrapped around his legs. His chin rested in the crevice of his knees as he fumed staring at the crumble patterns in the apartment's wall. He thought in agitation, 'I can't believe he's got me sitting in the corner like a freaking toddler!'

Pleased to see that Sylar wasn't going to put up more of a fight about it, Peter walked over to the microwave and pushed some buttons. He turned to look at the back of Sylar's head and said, "I've set the microwave timer to go off in half an hour. You can get up once it goes off. Until then I want you to think about the reason you're being punished. It has a lot more to do with your general attitude then it does with the fact that you refuse to eat."

Peter sat down at the table and started eating his own food which wasn't as warm as it had been when he first put it down. But it still tasted pretty good.

Sylar waited until he heard Peter's utensils clinking on his plate before he spun around to look around the kitchen. He groaned looking up at the clock; it had just barely made three minutes… he had a long way to go. This only made him more frustrated. He didn't want to sit here any longer and spent the next ten minutes shifting every which way until he was lying with his back on the chair seat with both feet planted on either side of the corner. The boredom was making him drowsy as he sighed loudly in an effort to be annoying. 'Sixteen minutes yet to go, almost halfway there,' he thought wearily.

Once he finished eating, Peter took his plate into the kitchen. He looked over at Sylar's unusual position in the chair. Ignoring Sylar completely, Peter went and washed his plate and the dishes he'd used to cook dinner. Once that was done there was only five minutes left before the timer went off. Peter got out a container of ice cream and a spoon, and ate a few bites while leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for the timer.

It seemed like the most painfully long thirty minutes to Sylar; and when Peter came into the kitchen, his eyes darted over to him. His frown turned into a pout when Peter brought the ice cream out as his stomach growled in yearning. He thought, 'You jerk. You're eating that in front of me on purpose! I hate you!' Sylar silently seethed turning his eyes back to the wall deciding he didn't want to watch Peter enjoying the ice cream he wished he was enjoying as well.

Thirty seconds before the alarm went off Peter put the ice cream away. He hoped he'd made Sylar's solitary confinement miserable enough that he wouldn't jump at the chance to do it again like he had half an hour ago. The timer went off and Peter said, "Time's up. I hope that the next time I tell you to do something you'll think about this and be more inclined to do what I ask. Especially when it's something I'm trying to get you to do for your own good like eat a healthy dinner."

As soon as the words times up had been muttered, Sylar rolled out of his awkward position planting both feet on the floor before standing up straight arms folded in agitation. Sylar scowled mentally reiterating the words, '…trying to get you to do for your own good… Pfft! Like sitting in the corner is for my own good!' He grumbled, "Can I go read now."

Peter raised one eyebrow and gave Sylar a look to show he wasn't happy with his tone before he said, "No. We're going to go to the park, so that I can practice for a few hours. You can bring your book with you though. Go get ready to go."

Sylar made sure to give Peter his own disapproving look as he stormed into the living room to get his shoes. He didn't want to go to the park to watch Peter use his abilities; it just served as more of a reminder that he didn't have any anymore. As he got his shoes on, he sighed disheartened knowing that it wasn't Peter's fault he had powers, his powers just left Sylar feeling impotent around him.

The flying had been fun and beneficial, and Sylar had seen Peter use the power before, so it was of no surprise to him when Peter had used it again. Things had changed when Sylar had discovered Peter now had Alice's power, a new power …one of many. All he could think about was seeing Peter continuously gaining more and more powers throughout the time he would be living with him, and the capacity of the power Peter could house in time was unfathomable and overwhelming for Sylar in his current state of helplessness. It made him feel mundane, everything that his mother had told him that he wasn't even though he had felt it every day of his life. He had tried so hard to break that feeling inside of himself, and when he'd gotten powers, they had defined him, made him special. He thought forlornly, 'It doesn't matter now, I'm not special anymore, and I shouldn't hate Peter because he is. I need to just accept that fact and get over it.'

Peter's irritation with Sylar's behavior went away after hearing his thoughts, because at least he knew that Sylar was trying to calm himself down. Once he saw that Sylar had his shoes on and his book in his hand, Peter walked over to him, and squatted down in front of him so he could be on eye level. "When we're at the park I need to concentrate on what I'm doing. That means you have to stay close to me and stay in my sight at all times. I know this probably isn't how you wanted to spend your night, but I need to practice. Let's fly to the park so we can avoid rush hour, and so that you can at least have a little bit of fun tonight."

Sylar found it hard to keep eye contact with Peter embarrassed of his behavior and still having mixed feelings about having to sit and watch Peter learn how to use his new power, but he nodded in agreement feeling a little better about the opportunity to get to fly again. Within ten minutes time, the two had flown from the fire escape to an alleyway less then a block from the park.