He was remembering the last time he visited Zane's grave—the day before he and Jed went on their mission of revenge. He brought dark purple violets flanked with baby's breath, and laid them on the smooth, polished stone.

"We'll fight for you, Zany," Reid told him, using the nickname he used to tease him with but was now the dearest word in the book to him. "We might have to do some…terrible things, but it's all for you. We won't let what happened to you go unpunished."

He looked behind him, down the hill, where Jed stood stiffly against the car. Reid sighed. He wished that Jed was more confident. He had an incredible power, but he feared it. He just hoped that Jed wouldn't let him down.

But Jed had. Now, walking down the streets of Columbus, knowing he had to leave soon but not being able to do anything productive, Reid tried desperately to remember the promise he made to Zane to justify all he had done.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He was remembering the night he killed Chandra Suresh. It was the only murder he had committed that wasn't premeditated—the only one which was spurred on by genuine emotion. He was so angry at Chandra. For giving him hope, for making him feel special and needed and loved…then rejecting him.

He had hidden in the back of his taxi, waiting for Chandra to get there. And when he did, and Sylar saw the back of the Indian doctor's head, he was so filled with rage he wanted to choke the life out of him. And he did.

And when he was done and saw what had happened, he grieved for days. Chandra had made him whole, had let him into his life. Chandra had turned dull, boring, ordinary Gabriel into the enigmatic Sylar, a force to be reckoned with. Now he was gone. And Sylar was alone, doomed to never be understood or ever really appreciated.

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He was remembering the first man he and Jed killed together. His name was Brian Randall, and they found him at a grocery store. He bought a head of lettuce, a bottle of coke, and a box of cookies. And when he was walking to his car, Reid, still camouflaged, pushed him hard against a wall, and beat him till he was black and blue. Then Jed used that special power they'd discovered together: he made a clean, quick cut across the guy's head, and he was dead before he even had the chance to scream.

Reid put his arm around Jed, who looked like he was going to be sick. Looking at Brian Randall, his head cut open, bleeding into the street, he wondered if Sylar felt the same way when he killed their brother.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

As he got to Sharp and Wall, the street corner he'd first sketched, he remembered the night he nearly killed Claire. This was one of the few murders he hadn't felt guilty about attempting. She was a cheerleader, an airheaded blonde who would probably just live on her parents', then her husband's money. She'd be protected all her life—what did she need with indestructibility?

What if he killed her, and gotten her power? He wouldn't be trying to find a copy-cat killer right now. Because he wouldn't care. But he cared now.

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John held the door open for Karen as they walked out of the movie theater. The sun was incredibly bright, or at least seemed so, after having been in a dark room for hours. They had decided to see an early matinee, both of them off of work that day.

They rounded the corner of the theatre and were almost to their car when something invisible seemed to grab John's collar and throw him against a wall. Karen screamed and ran to her husband, who seemed stunned.

They both gasped when from thin air, the outline of a person seemed to appear. It was a man with blond shaggy hair and wild blue eyes. He pointed a gun at them.

"Jed's gone," he told them. "He did this real good. But I can do it now." He cocked the gun and pointed at John.

But the gun flew out of his hands slid across the parking lot. In shock, Reid turned around to find Sylar behind him. With a flick of his wrist, Sylar sent his enemy flying sideways and smashed him against a car.

Sylar looked sideways at Reid's would-be victims. "Get out of here," he told them. Shaking, John helped his wife to her feet and they ran for their lives.

Sylar turned back to the car where he had thrown his rival, only to find he was gone. He narrowed his eyes and looked around. Then, without warning, he felt a sharp pain and heard a crack on the back of his head. He fell over.

A chuckle seemed to come out of thin air. Clutching his head, Sylar turned to see Reid materialize. "Aww, what's the matter, Killer? Did I hurt you?" he taunted. Sylar held up his hand to use his telekinesis as a weapon, only to have his target disappear again.

Sylar growled in frustration and got to his feet. "Why the hell don't you face me, coward? You like to pretend to be me, then look me in the eyes!"

"And why would I do that? This is so much more fun!" came Reid's disembodied voice.

Then, Sylar picked up the sound of a gun being cocked and a bullet being released from its chamber. He turned around just in time to stop a bullet from entering his chest. The point of the bullet just penetrated his shirt. The bullet fell to the ground with a thud.

Sylar walked toward the sound he had heard. "I know why you're doing this," he said. "I know you're Zane Taylor's brother and you think you're avenging him. But you're only bringing yourself down."

Suddenly the scenery melded together and Reid materialized again. "Did you enjoy killing him, you son of a bitch?" He held up his gun again and fired three times. Sylar stopped the bullets, then with his power turned them around towards Reid. The blond haired man gasped and disappeared again, blending once more into the environment just as the bullets flew through him.

"I didn't enjoy killing any of my victims," Sylar said in a low voice. "And I won't enjoy killing you." With that, he used his freezing power to make the air grow cold and the wind to blow chill. Keeping his eyes fixed in the space in front of him, his hair blowing in his eyes, Sylar watched for his moment.

"That's because…you won't have the chance," Reid's voice came stilted.

Sylar could pick up Reid's heart rate speeding up, his breathing getting faster to compensate for the reduced temperature and his sudden drop in body temperature. He was slowing down. Sylar pinpointed approximately where he was, but still couldn't see him.

Then it happened. His body focusing on trying to keep warm, Reid was unable to keep his camouflaged appearance with complete integrity. Sylar's telescopic eyes picked up just the faint trace of a shoulder.

"Gotcha," Sylar muttered. He held up his fist, catching his target by the throat. He brought his fist outward and slammed Reid against the wall of the theatre.

Reid gasped, and dropped his camouflage. Sylar was in his face in a moment.

He kicked to get free, knowing it was useless. "Go ahead!" he cried, looking down at Sylar. "Go ahead and kill me like you killed my brother! He didn't do anything to you! All he was was special! That was his only crime!"

Sylar was stopped in his tracks. Reid was right. All of Sylar's victims committed no crime; they were just special. But Reid had killed people just to kill. Even so: was Sylar the right person to be delivering justice?

Sylar tried to remember why he was doing this, lest he lose his nerve and let him go. "You killed Claire!" he yelled at the man, allowing him to think that his torture had been successful. "You made her suffer before she died! At least—at least when I did it, I never made anyone suffer!"

"Don't preach to me about right and wrong," Reid spat out. "You wouldn't care a thing about what I've done if it hadn't been your little girlfriend I captured. I bet you even tried to kill her yourself!"

"I did," Sylar admitted. "But I failed. And I'm glad I failed, because she's changed me." Then Sylar thought of a way to get to him. "Maybe you could have changed too, if you hadn't killed your brother."

Reid's eyes widened. "I had to kill him! He was going soft! He would have turned us in—I'm sure of it!"

"Well," Sylar said darkly, "You won't have to worry about that happening. Because I'm the last face you'll ever see." With that, he brought his finger to Reid's forehead.

Reid shuddered and gasped, feeling his molecules begin to collapse. "Are you—are you going to take my power?" he asked with his last bit of strength.

"No," Sylar whispered fiercely. "I'm only killing to end it all."

With that, Reid tossed his head back and cried shrilly as his entire body became nothing but a puddle of goo.

Sylar gasped, then backed away as the man he'd faced turned into a harmless pile of liquefied flesh. Slowly he turned around, to see Matt standing there, a horrified look on his face.

"Don't, Parkman. Just don't," Sylar ordered, turning around and walking away.

Matt caught up to him. "You killed him with the very power you took away from his brother, Zane Taylor. Mohinder told me what his ability had been. That's cold."

Sylar turned and looked at him. "Is that your summation as a do-right cop? Because I could care less," he snarled.

Matt looked at him evenly. "Yes it is." Scoffing, Sylar turned and resumed walking.

"But…also speaking as a man who loves his wife," Matt called out. "If it had been Janice who'd been tortured and cut open like that, I would have done the same thing."

With that comment, Sylar stopped, turned his head towards Matt's voice. Then he kept walking.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Really Mohinder, I'm fine," Claire insisted. Her savior-cum-surgeon was busy wrapping her in blankets. Molly was perched next to her, leaning her soft baby head on Claire's. The older girl pulled her arm out of the blankets and tenderly cupped the little girl's face.

"I know you think you're fine," Mohinder argued. "But you went through quite a trauma. Give yourself some time to breathe."

Claire grinned and laid her head against the pillows. "Breathing hasn't been on my priority list for a while."

Mohinder smiled back. Claire was quite beautiful. He could see why even someone like Sylar could be taken with her. But there was something that he wanted to ask her. He was pretty sure he knew the answer already, but he still had to try.

"Claire," Mohinder began, "I want you to consider something. Really think about it." He now came and sat by her. "I know how much…how much you want to do good in this world, with the power you've been given. That's what Matt and I want to do, too. But Sylar…" Mohinder's voice trailed off, as he looked at Molly, who had snuggled into Claire's side and was watching TV.

He took a dollar bill and held it out to his charge. "Sweetheart, go buy Claire a Snickers bar from the snack machine. She needs sugar and protein to regain her strength."

Molly looked at the dollar bill and then back at him. "Can I have another dollar to buy some M&Ms?"

Mohinder smirked and took out another dollar. "Here," he said. "But only buy one of each!" he called after her.

Claire watched as the little girl happily skipped from the room. "Sylar killed her parents," she said for confirmation.

Mohinder nodded. "He says it was because they were going to take her gift away, to make her normal. He killed them to stop them from "mutilating" her, as he put it."

Claire sighed in frustration. "I knew he had done terrible things, but--"

Mohinder cut in. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Claire, I know Sylar…seems to care for you a great deal, but…"

"But you think that eventually, he's going to revert to his old ways…or hurt me," Claire finished.

Mohinder nodded. "Can you blame me? Can you fault me for being concerned for anyone who puts her life in Sylar's hands?"

"No. I can't," Claire admitted. "If I were in your place, I'd probably feel the same way. But the thing is…well, Sylar is part of a greater plan. There's something coming soon. Something bigger than anything any of us have faced before. And Sylar is key to winning it. That's why he needs me. Because, in the end, we'll need him."

"Claire? Are you sure?" Mohinder asked softly.

She nodded. "I'm sure. You're not going to change my mind, Mohinder."

Mohinder nodded, feeling disappointed. Just then, Molly returned with the candy. She handed Claire her candy bar, which the older girl thanked her for with a kiss on the head.

"Are you going to stay with the Boogey-Man?" Molly asked.

Claire smiled at the little girl's candidness. "Yes, Molly. I have to keep him in line."

Molly nodded sagely. "Don't feel bad about it. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have Mohinder," she said, smiling up at her guardian, who now had a surprised look on his face.

They sat in the hotel room for the rest of the afternoon, Molly lying in Claire's lap, Mohinder on the phone with a contact. The door opened and there were the remaining members of their group, looking somber. Molly jumped off of the bed and ran to Matt, who swept her off the ground and gave her a bear hug. Sylar looked at Mohinder, then Claire, who remained lying under the covers. She gave him her sad smile.

Sylar didn't return it. Instead, he looked at Mohinder. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine," Mohinder said shortly. "What about…our killers?"

Sylar shook his head. "One of them killed the other. And…I found the other one. He won't be a problem anymore."

Mohinder sighed and looked at Matt, who returned his pensive look. "I see." The Indian geneticist turned away and began to pack up the files he was looking through.

"I hope you're not too disappointed, Mohinder," Sylar said in his usual callous way.

Mohinder glanced at the serial killer casually. "You killed your protégée. Considering what he did to follow in your footsteps…I doubt there was ever any other option."

Sylar looked away. They were allies, not friends. Mohinder was never going to trust him. Matt was never going to trust him. But now…they were on the same side. And Sylar had the feeling that some day soon to come, he would have to rely on them again.

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Claire found it difficult to say goodbye to them, especially to Molly, who she couldn't help hoping she'd have a daughter similar to someday.

"Take care of Mohinder," she told her little friend.

"I will!" Molly said. "Take care of the Boogey-Man. Make sure he doesn't become bad again."

Claire looked over at Sylar, who was sitting at the gate a few feet away. He respectfully kept his distance from Mohinder, Matt, and Molly, knowing that they all still felt uneasy around him.

"I will," she told Molly.

After Mohinder gave her a hug, he handed her a slip of paper. "There's a woman in Louisiana who says her child is…special. She says she needs help. Maybe this is something you can do," he said, then added reluctantly, "with Sylar."

Claire smiled wryly. "Don't worry. If he tries anything, I'll kill him."

Mohinder began to smile until Claire's faded and she said, "I'm not kidding. I really will."

As Mohinder watched the blonde girl walk over to her dubious partner, he couldn't help but wonder if there were any more women in the world like her.

His reverie was broken when Matt clapped him on the back. "So, I guess we're headed back to New York."

"Sounds good," Mohinder said with a smile. "I have a ton of research to do for a paper I plan to write for my university."

"Taking it easy?"

"Yes. A break sounds good right now."