Chapter 26
Nathan used an old rag to wipe the pooling circles of blood off of the disappearing holes in his palms. He clenched his fist tightly as he gave a powerful sigh, "I'm tired, Pete."
Tired of fighting and always losing in the end. Tired of trying to remember that Peter was his brother...and that Nathan loved him. Nathan pursed his lips together tightly, still feeling the shockwaves of hatred that were washing over him and sweeping him away like a deadly riptide. Nathan never wanted to experience these feelings...not towards Peter. Never towards him.
"Yeah, I know." Peter sniffed, wiping a stream of blood from his nose. Blood that, inadvertently, Nathan had drawn out of Peter with this body...this sick and terrible form.
Nathan watched Peter closely, noting his younger brother's proof of exhaustion in the way the young man's broad shoulders were hunched over, his breathing still belabored from the subsiding adrenaline and the returning sting of his injuries.
But Pete didn't understand. Nathan wasn't just physically exhausted any longer. There was now a mental...and spiritual...drain that was unrelenting and unforgiving as it burned against Nathan's willpower like some dark flame. And the feeling only continued to grow as if Sylar was now pouring an accelerant on their mental inferno in a desperate attempt to burn Nathan's consciousness out once and for all.
"No, I mean I'm tired." Nathan explained, placing his hands on his legs as he turned to face his little brother. "I've been trying to get out, fight my way, and I don't think I can do it anymore. I don't think I can hang on."
Peter watched him with intent, hazel eyes...his soft, innocent face darkening with concern. "Sure you can." He finally insisted, his voice hushed and raspy.
The two brothers locked eyes...and so much emotion was present in that one look. Blind loyalty... billowing affection...a strong determination to always fight tooth-and-nail if it meant saving the other.
Peter's eyes clouded sorrowfully as he finally spoke through the harsh silence, "You know what? Let's go get some air. I know just the place."
Peter held out his hand for Nathan to take. Without even looking Peter in the eye, Nathan took his brother's hand wearily and allowed himself to be pulled up onto his feet. Nathan felt Peter place a comforting hand to his back to guide him out of the hospital's construction zone.
Once they reached the top of the hospital building, Peter glanced over his shoulder at Nathan, knowingly. Nathan knew that look, it was the look that Pete always gave when he wanted to fly.
Before Nathan could respond, Peter lifted up into the air. Nathan wasn't exactly certain where his brother was flying off to, but old memories and a lifelong knowledge of Peter's sentimental nature gave him an idea. Nathan followed Peter deep into the night; a rush of cold air streaming across his face...and something told him that this would be the last time the two brothers would fly together. Nathan remembered Peter up in the small airplanes that Nathan would fly...he remembered Peter looking out the window with such enthusiastic wonder...the younger man always appreciating the beauty of the world below...and Nathan couldn't help but agree with him. Everything seemed simpler in the sky...everything seemed gentler...from that perspective, the world was indeed a wonderful place.
Nathan felt tears prick at his eyes...but he didn't let them fall. He hadn't cried since he was a very small child...neither his father nor mother allowed him that. He watched Peter fly...knowing his little brother would continue on and on towards the horizon...knowing that Nathan himself could no longer follow.
They finally stopped, arriving at the old Deveaux Mansion. The Deveaux's were an old family friend of their mother, and Peter had received his first job as a nurse working hospice care for Mr. Deveaux. However, Nathan knew that wasn't the memory that Peter was seeking tonight.
"Remember last time we were up here?" Peter asked, looking over at Nathan expectantly.
"Yeah." Nathan replied, mirroring the look in his brother's eyes. "Yeah, I do."
Before he had fully discovered his power, Peter had once attempted to fly, leaping from this very building with only faith as his wings. But his faith was misplaced, and he had instead tumbled to his death, his only salvation being Nathan's awaiting arms. Nathan's secret of flight had been revealed, but he had been unwilling to admit it...his reasoning why now seeming weak and hazy. But Peter had confronted him again on this very rooftop...angrily seeking answers in the stubborn way that only Peter could...and Nathan felt a surge of warmth upon recalling this memory. Peter had been furiously irritating at the time...but Nathan could only look back on his brother's actions with a deep sense of endearment now.
And it was the very first time that Peter ever flew...his feet barely hovering off of the ground. The knowledge that he could fly...and that his brother could fly...filled Peter with such innocent excitement. But Nathan had not been excited...all he could think of was how his congressional campaign was put in jeopardy by these actions. Nathan felt some of the warmth he had been experiencing slowly slip away from him. And what did any of that matter now? He should've hugged Peter back with just as much wonder and happiness. God, Nathan didn't want to dwell on these things any longer...so many lost moments...so many memories always tinged with a "should've".
But Peter had asked him a question. And Nathan knew he couldn't disappoint, needing to give Peter an answer that the young man had come to expect from his older brother.
Peter gave a small smile when Nathan responded, a familiar tone falling into the older man's voice. The gentle teasing...treating Pete as if he were eternally the little kid that needed his big brother's guidance.
"You were standing on that edge right there like an idiot." Nathan replied, and Peter gave a soft laugh in response. Nathan felt another wave of sorrow hit him. Pete had clearly come here in order to recapture the old times...the more innocent times. "Asking me about Dad's depression. Asking me if I could fly."
Peter's gentle smile fell, a more serious look glancing across his sharp features. "Remember what you said?"
Nathan paused for a moment, the question catching him off guard. The lies...the deceptions...Nathan had followed the path set before him without question, and in turn, he had hurt some of the people closest to him. But sometimes...sometimes lies are only used in order to protect the people we love the most...
"I said we could both fly." Nathan replied, gently. So many moments tinged with "should've".
Peter's lips quirked to the side as he looked right through Nathan's pretense...as Peter always seemed to be able to do. "Before that."
Nathan sighed, his thoughts intermixing bitterly with more surging memories...of standing on a rooftop ledge with Peter...memories of Peter looking so brave, so heroic...remembering a time when Peter had grabbed Nathan by the shoulders and had flung them both to their deaths on the hard concrete below...no one had flown that night...
No, no! Those weren't Nathan's memories!
"You denied it." Peter concluded, simply.
Nathan gave a small shrug, uncomfortable with the sudden voracious clarity in which one of Sylar's memories had overtaken him. "It was an election year." Memories were flooding him relentlessly now. Memories of broken promises, of scattered dreams, of tarnished good intentions. But whether they belonged to Nathan or Sylar, Nathan was growing too weary to decipher. "Denial was the go to."
Nathan walked to the edge of the rooftop; Peter's comforting grip finding its way to his weary shoulders. Nathan fought the urge to collapse into Peter's arms, he was so weak and shattered. But he knew that he had to be strong...he had always wanted to be the strong one of the two. But now, faced with his own mortality, he wondered how much he ever had been. After all, there had been so many moments of weaknesses since he and Peter had embraced on this rooftop over three years ago...and most of them had been had by Nathan.
"It seems like a million years ago, huh?" Nathan murmured, softly. "A lifetime."
"We made it through it." Peter insisted, determinedly, gazing into his brother's face. The young man looked so sincere...so hopeful...that Nathan could do nothing but force a small, uncertain smile and nod in return.
Peter continued, bolstered by Nathan's acceptance of his words. "Together. Made it through all the craziness. You and me." Peter's face was set in its conviction, his jaw tightening with desperate certainty. "We can make it through anything."
Anything...they could survive a home life that at times seemed to be pulling them in opposite directions...they could survive these powers overwhelming them in every aspect of their lives...they could even survive being separated because in the end they knew that they would always find each other again...
Nathan gave a sad smile. Those memories could've been his...or they could've belonged to the blood-lusting monster in his mind...it didn't seem to be as obvious to him which was which any longer. He glanced back up at Peter's softening eyes...they were wide with a gentle ferventness; with a deep desire for Nathan to approve and agree with his words.
"Even death?" Nathan finally settled on saying, trying to choke back another relentless onslaught of tangled memories...feelings of intense loneliness...isolation...self-hatred...
Peter gave a small shake of his head. "Why not?" He demanded, sadly.
Nathan shrugged, a soft understanding beginning to settle within him. Pete was the dreamer...but Nathan was the realist. And it seemed that their relationship would remain unchanged until the end. "Because this isn't me? It's not my body. Because..." He took a deep breath, knowing that Peter had to come to accept the truth that Nathan himself had known since Thanksgiving night. "Because it's Sylar's..." Nathan finished, looking away in frustration.
Peter's voice resounded forcefully in Nathan's ears. "No, it is you, Nathan. I'm looking at you."
"You're looking at an illusion." Nathan retorted, trying to make the words simple and strong...even as they tore at his insides...even as he wanted to breakdown and let all of his emotions pour out of him in one final act of hopeless desperation.
"No, it's you." Peter hissed, stubbornly.
Gabriel Gray...the watchmaker's son...the killer...is that all he had ever amounted to in the end...nothing more than a murderer...nothing more than a tortured mind overrun with powers. But here he was...once more standing on the edge of eternity with Peter Petrelli. Oh, how he longed to be stained in Peter's blood up to his elbows...skilled fingers finally allowed to tear into the one brain he had so long desired to know...
Nathan felt his eyes slip shut in overwhelming pain and agitation. Sylar's memories...Sylar's emotions...they were bubbling up to the surface...and they were beginning to be brighter and clearer than his own had been.
"I need you to keep fighting in there, okay?" Peter demanded, the familiarity of his voice bringing Nathan back. There was a hint of begging seeping into the young man's tone that had been absent only moments ago.
Nathan shook his head slowly. "I can't."
Peter jerked backwards, as if he had just gotten slapped. Nathan watched him closely, his heart aching at the anguish that was now etched across Peter's face. He didn't want to see Peter in pain anymore. Oh, if only he could say something that would help take Peter's hurt away...Nathan had always known the words before...when Peter had experienced his first heartbreak...when Izzie, the family dog, had died...even when they had originally thought their father to be dead and Peter had lamented over the broken state they had left their relationship...
But Nathan didn't know what to say any more. Because he couldn't lie to Peter this time...not even to protect him. No, it was time for Nathan to lay everything bare...to give Peter the respect and dignity of knowing the truth, no matter how painful it would be.
"He's killing me." Nathan hissed, a slow, grinding pain beginning to work its way up into his brain. "And I can't hold on anymore, Pete."
Peter redoubled his grip on Nathan...as if the younger man was now holding both of them up with his embrace. "Yes, you can, Nathan." He insisted, drawing his face closer to his brother's with an intent urgency. "That's...that's why you found me." Peter jumped on the hopeful thought, clinging to it for dear life. "That's why you came and found me."
Yes, it's why he always found Peter. Because he wanted to know all of Peter's precious secrets...because he wanted to hoard everything that made Peter so special as his own. Sylar wanted to take, take, take from Peter...Peter, man who was so loving and giving. But although Peter always seemed to give, give, give to everyone...Sylar seemed to be his only exception.
And because Peter had nothing to give him, Sylar would simply be content to beat the young man to death in Times Square...somewhere the whole world could watch as their Superman fell back down to earth. Peter's vanquish would appear on every TV screen in the city...his eyes glassing over as Sylar continued to bludgeon him to a bloody pulp...the hero humiliated and buried...
And then...Sylar would never have to think of Peter again. Because for the last three years...it had always been Peter...and Sylar didn't know how much more his sanity could take.
Sylar took all of Peter in...the young man still standing before him just as he had at their first fateful meeting. Peter had changed since then...he was different now...more confident, more sure of himself...he was stronger.And how had Sylar changed in the same amount of time? Was he any stronger...any more powerful...any surer of himself? God, he hated Peter so much...hate, hate, hate...so much hate was coursing through his soul that he was practically choking on it...
"I found you because I wanted to crucify you in Times Square." He growled, bitterly.
But Peter was not deterred. He is not the same naïve hero from the homecoming game...he is no longer scared of monsters that lurk in the shadows. Peter simply grabbed onto Sylar and drew him closer, a loving insistence punctuating his every syllable. "Nathan, that is not you."
Peter's voice was once more Nathan's salvation...he snapped awake as if he had merely been slipping off into a light daydream. No, that hadn't been Nathan at all. That was Sylar...and he was winning. God, he was winning with each and every passing moment. He was real...he was alive...and Nathan was nothing more than a bundle of memories and emotions that were growing more and more faint with each passing tick of a clock.
Nathan shut his eyes, deeply upset and frustrated. He let out a dark groan, shaking his head until he doubled forward, hanging onto the rooftop's ledge with trembling hands. Sylar was fighting for control...and instead of Sylar and Nathan once more becoming a strange amalgamation of thoughts and memories they were now beginning to vividly separate. Sylar was strong and vibrant...and Nathan was small and cold. It acutely felt as if Nathan's life were suddenly a very wonderful dream that was ending all too soon...when it grows fainter and fainter and no matter how tightly you shut your eyes and try to call it back you cannot...
Peter's words once more resounded in the other man's ears. "Nathan, that is not you."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you." Nathan gasped, as Peter lunged forward to hang onto him. Nathan jerked back up and grabbed onto Peter as if the young man were his only life saver in a tumultuous storm. Peter was pressed against the wall...unable to move...chest rising and falling heavily...eyes wide and dark ...he should've killed him then...he should've taken a knife and drove it into the back of his skull...he should've never given Peter the opportunity to overwhelm him...to consume this much of his life. And now he hated Peter so much...god, it even hurt how badly he hated Peter. This wasn't the same hatred that he had experienced before...that hot, churning that had whispered through his consciousness...no, this was something very raw and real that was trembling in him now. And so it was time to say goodbye to Nathan...and with him, Peter. Because Peter...Peter was the only one that Sylar had ever hated so passionately...
Nathan released a pained cry as Peter hugged him even tighter. "Nathan, stay with me...hey!" Peter begged, the young man's voice now coming out in rough, choked spurts. "Hey, c'mon. I need you to fight it."
Nathan buried his face into Peter's shoulder, a dark ache pressing firmly against his chest. It felt as if his heart was about to explode, it was pounding so ferociously and erratically. Sylar was killing him...slowly but thoroughly killing him...
"I need you to fight it, Nathan." Peter reiterated, pressing the side of his face into his older brother's. He pressed his hand to the back of Nathan's head, understanding the importance of their connection in the moment.
"Please." Peter breathed out, looking up to the sky as he did so. And that 'please' was meant to beseech the Lord as much as it was meant for Nathan's ears. "C'mon."
Nathan felt a sharp sting as the tears he had been holding back finally slipped down his cheeks. It was the first time he had cried in almost thirty years. But he didn't care...only Peter was here with him now...and Peter never judged him. Nathan choked on the pit that had settled in his throat...he couldn't stand dying while images of Sylar's insane reasoning and burning hatred for Peter consumed Nathan's fading spirit. No, Nathan was determined to remember that which was his in his final moments. Nathan knew it would kill him...it would kill him to place so much energy into one final surge of his own consciousness...it would cause the final fabric of his fading life to tear in half. But he was to die anyway...and so he wished to do so bravely, with the strength that Peter had always seemed to see in him.
He focused on the one constant, beautiful thing that he had experienced throughout a lifetime of mistakes and regret...his relationship with his brother. He loved Peter...oh, he loved Peter so much...and that thought would be his dying salvation tonight.
Nathan slowly lifted himself away from Peter's grasp as they simultaneously moved to press their hands to each other's cheeks...they always seemed to anticipate the others actions. Peter tried to force a smile, but his lips quickly trembled and faltered.
Nathan watched Peter closely...remembering holding Peter's hand as he had taught his little brother how to walk...and it was finally time to let go and allow Peter to take those first steps on his own.
"I'm sorry, Pete." Nathan whispered, and he had never been more apologetic in his life. He was sorry for everything...not only for what he was about to do...but for every time he had ever told Peter a lie... every time he had caused Peter hurt or sadness...every time he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him...he was so sorry for all of it.
But even as he apologized, a realization struck him with such ardent certainty...that he had already been forgiven long ago. And that's why he loved Peter so much...Peter didn't know how not to forgive. Nathan smiled inwardly, despite himself.
With this final sense of peace, Nathan threw himself off of the ledge of the building...and although he knew he could've flown...there was an overwhelming sense that it was time to come back down to earth...to stop running away from the world and hiding up in the sky. It was time to come home.
"Nathan!" Peter cried out, rushing over and grabbing onto Nathan's arm. Nathan felt his descent halted as he hung on the precipice of eternity.
"Pull yourself up, Nathan." Peter demanded, his face red and strained as he used both his hands to frantically grasp onto his brother's arm.
"Let me go, Pete." Nathan replied, a calmness flooding him. He was so close to discovering something beautiful...something so far away from the tarnished reality he had always known. There was something pure and real waiting for him...just around the corner...and it was his time to accept that. And Pete...his little brother needed to realize that it was always him. Peter was the one who was meant to be the world's savior. It was all so clear to Nathan now...and he couldn't help feel the sense of relief and understanding that settled into him.
"I can't do that." Peter hissed, tears rushing into his bright, hazel eyes.
"You need to accept that I'm gone." Nathan insisted, softly. He wanted to soothe Peter's emotions...to be the steady sieve that Peter could always pour all of his unmanageable and powerful feelings into. And he wanted Peter to be so happy...so wonderfully happy...after all, he deserved nothing less...
"I need you to help me, now pull yourself up!" Peter cried, the tears unapologetically spilling down his reddened cheeks. He gave a rough snort through his nose, blinking through his glazing vision, trying to hang onto something that was no longer his to hold onto.
I need you to help me. Peter had always thought that he needed Nathan...but Peter was a man now...and stronger and braver than Nathan could have ever imagined.
Peter's hand gave a sudden slip and Nathan felt himself fall a little further...a little closer to home. Peter struggled to grab onto Nathan with both hands again, but he could no longer reach...Nathan was almost no longer of this world...no longer able to be physically held or touched...
Nathan gazed up into his brother's trembling, sweat-soaked features...still seeing the soft, innocent spirit that Nathan had known for Peter's entire life. But there was now something else that resided within Peter too...an unassuming, gentle confidence. Peter had truly come into his own...he had discovered the part of himself that he had been seeking for so long. And Nathan was so...so tremendously proud of him.
"You're going to have to carry on for the both of us, Pete." Nathan explained, giving a small and comforting nod. "Okay? You tell Mom I love her." For indeed, he knew that he loved his mother with every inch of his being. While it was true that he had always been drawn towards his father...towards power...it was his mother who was truly the strong one. She had been willing to sacrifice everything to save his life...and he was no longer angry at the decisions she had made...knowing for the first time the full extent in which they were dictated by a strong but often unspoken devotion that she had held for him.
"You take care of Claire." His beautiful, brave daughter Claire. The girl who had taught him to seize the moment, because one never knew when such time would slip away and be lost forever. The girl who had made him into the hero he never thought he could be.
Nathan turned his words back towards the one man who had always known exactly who he was...both the good and the bad...Peter had accepted and loved it all. "You fight the good fight. You've always been everything that's good in the world, Pete."
Oh...he loved Peter so much. His brother the hero...the gentle, kind, golden-hearted hero...the hero the world had always needed...the hero Peter had always been inside...and now it was finally time for Peter to show the world what Nathan had always known.
"Nathan." Peter gasped, the tears still pouring down his face...but his words were now punctuated by a pained understanding. He would hurt...but that was a good thing. The grieving was necessary now...and as much as Nathan never wanted to see Peter cry...these tears were healthy. They were tears of goodbye...they were tears of acceptance.
"And I got a feeling the world ain't seen nothin' yet." Nathan smiled, his pride and love seeping into his every word...into his very last breath.
"I can't do this without you." Peter insisted, knowing the moment was imminent...that it was inevitable...the moment when he finally needed to let go.
"You can do anything, Pete." Nathan replied, fighting to blink away his own glassy eyes and to take in every last second he had to look up at Peter. Everything between them was healed...all grievances forgiven...all betrayals rendered meaningless...after all, in the end they were side-by-side, united in loyalty and love. Nathan's only regret now was that he wouldn't be around to see all of the great things that Peter was certain to accomplish.
He would be a hero, of course...but someday he would also be a dedicated, loving husband...and a caring father who was always present...and Nathan felt a bittersweet happiness for his brother at these prospects.
"Anything." Nathan gave another encouraging nod. "Remember that."
Peter's intense gaze locked upon their entwined fingers...before finding Nathan once more. Tears clouded Peter's vision, his lips pressed together firmly...knowing what needed to happen but still willing it to not be true.
But it wasn't the end. No, it was just the beginning...the beginning of something wonderful. For both Nathan and Peter...and neither man could fight their destiny any longer.
Nathan smiled brightly. "I love you." He breathed out, his voice catching in his throat. He knew how painful this would be for Peter...and he wanted to be there for him...he wanted to hold him...to comfort him. But even if Nathan could no longer reach out and touch Peter...to embrace him, to physically speak with him...he knew their love would live on. He knew that those three, simple words could convey a powerful truth that Peter could then hang onto for the rest of his life if ever he needed the strength...the gentle reminder.
"Nathan?" Peter whispered, but his words were simply a mere question of whether now was the time...rather than an order that it not be. Peter gave another hard sniff, the tears flowing freely down his ruddy cheeks...and Peter was so strong, so brave that of course he knew what he had to do. And he faced it as he always did...with unwavering heroism.
"Ah, I love you, Nathan." Peter finally relented...and although Nathan always knew that Peter loved him...although he had never doubted for a second those words...it was so important that they speak them now.
For indeed, these were the last three words they would ever say to each other and they were the only words that encapsulated every minute of their twenty-nine years spent together.
Nathan felt Peter's warm touch slip away from his wrist...and gravity had finally caught up with Superman...his arms outstretched around him...as if he were flying even now as he fell.
He kept his gaze firmly planted on Peter...he loved him so much...even as he felt the twisted, tortured consciousness of Sylar greedily scramble to take his place.
Sylar is hungrily consuming every part of his mind...devouring Nathan in a final, madcap grab for complete control of the shared body...inhaling the remnants of Nathan's memories even as the consciousness of Nathan becomes more distant and dark...
And for the first time, Nathan is fully aware of exactly who this man called Sylar is...the monster in the shadows...the man who has tormented his family for three, tumultuous years.
He is nothing more than a scared little boy. A lonely, confused boy who only wants to be loved. He had wanted love from the Petrellis...had wanted love from Angela...had...had wanted love...from Peter. Nathan could see it all with startling clarity now...like a scorned little child, Gabriel had yelled 'hate' when he had only ever meant 'love.' But Gabriel didn't know what love was. Gabriel only knew how to tear things apart...only knew how to break things...only knew how to break himself.
And Nathan decided that he didn't hate Gabriel any longer. No, he could only manage to faintly pity him now...lonely, scared, tortured little boy. It was sad really...Nathan was at complete peace with himself even as he faded away into the darkness...but Gabriel was more confused and broken than ever even as he emerged with full-awareness...
No, Nathan could no longer hate him.
But Gabriel also no longer mattered. He had broken himself; he had torn his own world asunder. And so Nathan directed his last thoughts to Peter...Peter's familiar face filling his vision...he loved Peter so much...even as he faded he was left with that beautiful reality...he was so lucky...so lucky to have known that kind of love in his life...
He felt a dark smile split his face...Nathan was truly gone...dead and vanquished...and Sylar had won at long last. He watched as Peter's beautiful features widened in shock and horror...and Sylar knew that the expression was meant solely for his reappearance.
Sylar felt his body slam into a car, his bones jolting against the cold, harsh metal...but he barely noticed the pain or the impact. He was too busy watching Peter's ever-expressive face...the handsome young man jerk backwards, his hands coming up as if to protect himself from the terrible sight of Sylar taking his brother's place...tears left untouched to stain those soft, flushed cheeks.
Sylar rose to his feet, fixing his hair as he did so. He knew that Peter was still watching him closely...expecting his cruelty...expecting his complete lack of empathy...awaiting his spite.
And, of course, Sylar hated to ever disappoint Peter. He gave Peter a slight wave of his hand...a mocking salute goodbye. Sylar knew that it was time to leave...just as Nathan had known...but even as his feet took him away...took him away from this horrible, confusing place...something made him still keep his gaze locked on Peter's sweet face.
Soft, flushed features...hair falling into his glassy, hazel eyes...lips that trembled...imperfectly perfect lips...god, if only...if only he could kiss away Peter's tears...
Sylar snapped his eyes away at the last minute as he turned to leave. That was the last time he would ever see Peter, he promised himself. It was finally over...and it was time to let go.
But Nathan's parting memory had left a lingering pain in his heart...and Sylar knew that he couldn't continue to lie to himself any longer...he finally had to admit what was now so glaringly apparent in his every recollection of every hateful, little moment he had ever spent with Peter...fine, yes...he loved Peter...he loved Peter but he could never grapple with such an emotion...it was so frightening...so real in a world that he came to fear was nothing but pretend...and if he ever said those three, scary words out loud he might just break into a thousand pieces, so fragile was everything he had once held as truth...
And something died inside of Sylar that night...because as much as he insisted he did not care...as much as he told himself he didn't have empathy...something kept haunting him about Peter's precious, tear-stained face...and his words of 'I love you' towards Nathan...and how lost he looked now. And suddenly, Sylar wasn't so sure he ever wanted to be the one responsible for making someone look that way again.