"Your turn," Peter said as he walked out of the bathroom. He had found a first aid kit in one of the cupboards and used the content to tend to the wound on his knee. It wasn't that much of an injury, he just didn't want it to get infected. To be doing something he was actually familiar with, something he was good at, it felt nice. He hadn't gone to work in what felt like years and he kind of missed it.

Sylar was lost in thought when Peter spoke and pulled him out of it. "What?"

"I said it's your turn. The bathroom is free."

Sylar frowned at Peter. "I don't have to go."

"No, not that." Peter rolled his eyes. "You should clean up before Matt sees you." The serial killer didn't seem to be aware that he was covered in blood. It made Peter wonder if maybe it was just normal for him to look like that. Maybe he had gotten used to the sight of blood. It certainly never bothered him before. "He might think we've been in a fight or something."

Sylar looked down. It was hard not to see the blood stains on his grey shirt, now that he was no longer wearing his coat. There were holes in his coat from being shot, so taking the damn thing off was the first thing he did when Peter went to the bathroom. "Yeah, you're probably right." Again. He's always right. Sylar stood and headed towards the bathroom.

"Oh and don't forget the..." Peter pointed at his own forehead, "you know."

Sylar touched his forehead with his fingertips and felt the dried up blood. I must look like shit.

He strode to the bathroom and couldn't help but smile when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Well, ain't that a familiar sight. It was kind of weird, seeing a smear of blood halfway across his forehead. It was his mark, his signature, and he had to admit, the sight of it was highly amusing. It reminded him of the last time he had killed someone using the same method, which was the old man he took disintegration from. That was such a long time ago. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he yelled at Peter as he looked at him through the doorway. "I kinda like it!" I look like I've been attacked by myself, he thought ironically.

Peter rolled his eyes and ignored the insensitive comment. He had found some kind of sports magazine and was turning its pages without actually reading anything. He could've at least closed the door.

Sylar looked back at his reflection and sighed. Probably shouldn't have said that. Next on the list: his shirt. What were his options? He wasn't going to use Matt's laundry machines, he wasn't going to wash the shirt with his bare hands and he sure as hell wasn't going to borrow a shirt from Matt. They wouldn't fit me anyway. Sylar decided that he was only going to clean his torso with a wet towel, but he was going to keep his shirt. It was still covered in blood stains and it had holes in it from being shot, but whatever. Matt just had to deal with it.

Sylar unbuttoned his shirt, dropped it on the floor, grabbed a towel, made it wet under the sink and cleaned his torso. He dropped the towel on the floor, turned on the tap and bent forward to wash his face. It wasn't just blood, he noticed as he watched the water blend with the redness of his own blood. There was a lot of dirt coming out of his hair as well, enough to consider taking a shower. But that was just too much of an effort and probably wouldn't be appreciated by his companion anyway. So he grabbed another towel to dry his hair with and used his hands to comb it all back. He looked in the mirror one more time after putting his shirt on and decided he was satisfied with what he saw.

Peter had given up on the magazine and was looking around the living room for something to do when Sylar emerged from the bathroom. "I'll have to disagree with that."

"Come on, Peter. It was a joke. Where is your sense of humor?"

"That's not humor, that's just sick."

"Jesus, Peter. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

He's anxious. That's why he's acting like a jerk. Sylar needed to change the way he dealt with his anxieties. Peter wasn't that bothered by his nasty comments, because he had gotten to know the man pretty good in the past few years (hours, not years!),but others might react differently. "Forget about it," he said, desperate to change the subject. "I could use some food."

Sylar shrugged and sat down on the couch again. He wasn't hungry and he still had his drink. So did his companion, but Peter had forgotten all about it apparently. Why can't he just sit down for a second? He's making me nervous.

Peter walked into to the kitchen, but returned immediately when he heard voices.

Sylar stayed where he was, with his coke, on the couch, feeling no desire to move at all. From the corner of his eye, he saw two people heading towards the front door. He first saw Parkman (using crutches), followed by his wife Janice and then, aw they brought little Matt junior to the party. Wait… No! He wasn't expecting that. Risking the life of a child wasn't on his agenda.

His first thought was to leave. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he couldn't leave without Peter. And Peter wasn't going to leave without asking Parkman for help first. The whole idea was pointless. Sylar knew that Parkman was never going to help him. He had asked for Parkman's help before and look where that got him. They were wasting their time. But Peter was determined to prove that his plan was going to work, so all Sylar had to do was wait for him to realize that his plan was doomed to fail from the start and then they would leave.

Peter was standing next to the couch, the one currently occupied by Sylar. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do at that moment. What was the best way to greet Matt without freaking him out by Sylar's presence? How would he react? Would he believe them? He didn't have much time to think about it, because at that moment Matt opened the door.

Janice walked in first, holding Matt junior in her arms. She froze when she saw the two men in her living room. Even worse, she recognized the man who had tried to strangle her earlier that day and drew in a sharp breath. "Matt..."

"Yeah?" Matt said as he tried to get past his wife, but the crutches were making it difficult. When he didn't hear her respond he looked at her to see what was wrong. He followed her gaze into the living room. "You've got to be kidding me..." Matt leaned on one crutch and pointed his finger at the door. "Out! Now!"

Peter approached Matt and his wife slowly. "Just... take it easy, okay? We're not here to hurt anyone." And by 'we' I mean Sylar.

Matt breathed a puff of laughter and shook his head. "Are you hearing yourself? Peter, he has hurt everybody in this room."

Sylar felt falsely accused. "That's not true. I never did anything to hurt the kid."

"You traumatized his parents, you idiot!"

Sylar rolled his eyes. The kid barely ever noticed anything. How was it supposed to know what its parents went through?

"Matt," Peter started with a sigh, "let's all just calm down. We don't want to cause any trouble."

"Peter," Matt said, who sounded like he was really starting to lose his patience. "His presence alone causes more than enough trouble."

That's it. Time to leave. Sylar couldn't say he was disappointed. He was actually kind of relieved. Nobody had to get hurt if he just left. "Let's go, Peter."

No."No." We just got here."Come on, Matt. We just came back from New York. Remember when we told you about the Carnival? Sylar did it. He saved thousands of people. Look inside my head if you don't believe me."

"So what if he saved thousands of people! That doesn't make up for the fact that he murdered so many others. Did you forget about that? Did you forget that he hunted and murdered dozens of innocent people, including your brother?"

Sylar was having a déjàvu. They already had the exact same conversation earlier that day. Nothing had changed. Matt was still not backing down and probably never would. Neither was Peter. I'm not going to wait for him, Sylar thought and already dreaded the thought of being on his own again. "Suit yourself, Peter. I'm out of here."

"Just wait." But Sylar didn't wait.He can't leave. Someone needed to keep an eye on him. Someone had to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid. Peter thought about stopping him by using telekinesis, just long enough to make Matt understand, but realized only seconds later that he should not have done that. I hope he didn't hear that...

But unfortunately for Peter, he did. "Oh, I heard you alright." Matt turned to Sylar and tilted his head a bit, like he always did when he was using his ability.

You're not going anywhere. Sylar couldn't move. "I'm not going anywhere." He wanted to move his feet, but they were stuck to the floor. "What the hell?"

Matt turned to Peter, tilted his head and pushed his next thought into the paramedic's head.

Pin Sylar to the wall with telekinesis and shut up. Peter's hand moved against his will, he pointed his index and middle finger at Sylar and threw him at the wall with his ability. With his left hand he grabbed Sylar's throat and held him up in the air, also by using telekinesis. Don't do this, Matt! He wanted to tell Sylar that it wasn't him, but Matt had forced him to shut up. This isn't necessary!

Sylar gritted his teeth. He was disappointed in Peter for practically telling Matt about his ability (because that's the only way he could have known), the telepath's unreasonable behavior was starting to work on his nerves and on top of that, he wasn't used to being manhandled. He really had to fight the urge to finish them all and be done with it. Stay calm, he had to keep telling himself. That's not who you are anymore."I was just about to leave."

"Yeah? Well, I've decided that you can stay a bit longer." Matt didn't even bother to hide how much he enjoyed being the one in control. It was all over his face.

"Matt, are you doing this?" Janice said as she knelt down to put little Matt on the floor.

"Yes, I am protecting my family."

"Why don't you just make them leave with your power?"

"Yeah, Parkman. Why don't you?" Sylar asked.

"Because I'm a cop. If I let him go now, he will be free to go and do as he pleases and someone's gonna end up getting hurt or worse. I don't want that on my conscience. He's staying here."

Sylar groaned, unsatisfied with that answer. "So you're just gonna keep me here, pinned to this wall, forever?" Parkman didn't seem to know what he was doing. He was just improvising, which made everything a whole lot worse.

"I could call Bennet, let him deal with you..."

No,Peter thought. That's what he was trying to avoid.

"Or..."

Here we go...Sylar thought, not liking where this was going.

"I could tell Peter to use your own ability against you, let you have a taste of your own medicine." Matt wasn't joking, his tone of voice and the look on his face indicated that he was nothing but serious. "I can make him cut off the top of your head for a change. Let's see how you'll like it."

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. Matt was definitely crossing the line, but there was nothing he could say or do about it.

"What?" Sylar snarled. "Are you insane?"

"Matt, s-stop it..." Janice was seriously starting to get worried. Not about their intruders, but about her husband. "This isn't you..."

"Well... Maybe he made me this way."

"Ah, you're talking about me being stuck inside your head for weeks. Well, that my friend, was all your fault." You and that bitch Angela Petrelli. "Do you really think I liked being stuck in that body?"

"I'm not your friend! And that wasn't my idea!"

"Who cares? You're still the one who wiped my memories!"

Peter felt so useless. He wanted to help. He wanted to calm everybody down. He wanted to prevent things from escalating, but he couldn't speak. But I can speak to Matt! Matt?

Matt breathed a heavy sigh and turned around. "What do you want, Peter?"

I want you to listen to me. Let us go. Sylar won't hurt anyone.

"What makes you so sure?"

Because he proved it. He didn't kill anyone at the carnival and he didn't kill you. He didn't want to and even if he did, believe me, you would've known.

"Why are you-?"

He gave me telekinesis for a reason!

"Which is?"

He was worried he'd lose control and wanted me to stop him if he did.

"Lose control?!"

Sylar was watching the two men who were obviously having a private conversation. That was obvious. It was just weird that he was only able to hear one side of it. He was only able to hear Parkman's side of the conversation. It made him wonder if Peter was helping the situation or if he was making everything worse. It sounded more like the latter. "What is he saying?"

"That you might lose control and kill us all, apparently."

"You told him?" Sylar didn't know how Peter could be so stupid. The nurse was totally ignoring everything Sylar had told him about dealing with telepaths.

Janice gasped and grabbed her husband by his arm. "Matt, just make them leave!"

He's not going to lose control! It was just a minor possibility. But it was his idea to give me telekinesis. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He wants us all to be safe.

"What I still don't get is why you are still defending him."

Noah had asked Peter the exact same question.He understood their confusion, but they didn't understand what it was like for him to spend five years alone with the man who murdered his brother.That's because I'm the only one who knows that he has changed, truly changed. And even if I'm probably the one who hates him the most, I still am the only one who can help him. He needs someone believing in him. If he doesn't have that... I think he might go back to the way he was before.

"You don't always have to help people. Especially not him."

That's my decision. It felt like he was doing the right thing. He had always followed his own instinct and never regretted doing so. Except when he hugged his father and lost all of his abilities, but that was just him being naïve.

Janice had heard enough. She took her phone out of her pocket. "I want them gone, Matt. And if you won't do it, I'll have to let the cops do it for you."

"I am a cop!"

"Yes, but you're not doing your job." She was about to dial 911 when the TV-screen suddenly turned on.

They all turned their heads (except Peter, who was still holding Sylar in place) at the same time and saw little Matt standing in front of the television with one hand on the screen.

"Oh, come here you," Janice said as she walked towards her son. Before she had reached him, the TV turned off again. It turned on and off several times, but when it stopped on one of the news channels there was a young girl with blond hair visible on the screen.

It was Claire Bennet.

"What the hell is she doing on TV?" Matt asked to no in particular.

"You've missed the big finale, Matt," Sylar told him with a wide grin on his face. "The whole world was watching when Claire fell off the Ferris wheel and now everyone will know about our abilities. Yours, mine, Peter's and," he looked at the little boy standing in front of the television, "little Matt junior of course."

Matt looked at his son and then back at a man who had caused so much grief to so many people over the years. "No…"

"Yes. Our lives will never be the same again."

Next chapter: Attempted Murder