Title: Empty Memory
Genre: Romance / Angst
Rating: T
Pairing: Sylar x OC
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: You will forget. To remember any portion of it, any word, will cause you pain, terrible pain, growing more terrible as you fight to remember.
Word Count: 787
Warnings: Weird timeline.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Summary is from Star Trek: The Original Series.

A/N: I am pretending Heroes: Reborn doesn't exist.


Where does it come from, this quest, this need to solve life's mysteries from the simplest of questions can never be answered. Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream? Perhaps we'd be better off not looking at all. Not delving. Not yearning. But that's not human nature, not the human heart. That is not why we are here.


A glass of cold water thrown into her face wakes her out of a stupor. She sputters and coughs, blinking her eyes in the dim, rickety light. She didn't remember anything after the ride in that van. Had they drugged her? Her mind felt fuzzy and addled – full of cotton.

"Tell us what you remember."

She starts at the voice, trembling as Black Coffee emerges from the shadows as terrifyingly as any movie villain, his glasses glinting, his smile plaster. "W- what?"

"About your childhood, Evelyn Taylors." He sits across from her, the chair screeching across the floor gratingly, leaning on the table between them. "What do you remember?"

When she goes to lift her arms to shrug, she realizes she's handcuffed to the chair she's sitting in, and the panic swirling in her gut begins to spiral high into her throat. "What is this?" Her voice trembles.

"It's for your protection."

"My protection?!" Her brown eyes flash with a sudden burst of ire. "I'm just a barista! And you're chaining me to a chair for my protection? From what?! What is going on here?!"

"What do you remember?" He asked again, instead.

She makes an exasperated expression. "About my childhood?" She gestures helplessly as much as she can manage. "I don't know – nothing. Most people don't."

"But what about the rest? Your teenage years – people remember those?"

"I – " She stops, not willing to tell him that her mind, as always, was a big blank when she thought about her past. People had stories of middle and high school – of birthdays, and first kisses, first loves, first cars – of their families and friends. Evie had none of those things. "I don't know."

That fake as plaster smile again. "You see Miss Taylors, I think you do remember some things. More than you should."

A blink. "What does that mean?"

"You should remember nothing, the Haitian should have seen to that." A frown in the direction of the door. "But I think you do, and I want to know everything you know about his powers."

Her eyes are wide with confusion. "I don't understand." Her voice is small and scared.

"You will, Miss Taylors, you will."


"Never have I ever… gone skinny dipping."

"You've never been skinny dipping?!" Evie's voice is loud and surprised.

Gabriel frowns at her. "And you have?"

A shrug. "Sure, with the girls on the cheerleading team." She grins at him, lopsided and charming. Gabriel forced his mind away from the image of his best friend naked with a slew of other girls. They're fourteen – too young for him. He's grateful when she continues their game. "Never have I ever ridden a horse."

He snorts. "Yeah, me neither." He stops and thinks, eyes wandering over the sky above the roof they're lying on. "Never have I ever… been in love."

It's her turn to snort. "You're seventeen, you martyr, not seventy. I'm pretty sure no one has been in love for real at seventeen. Um, my turn, hmmm… never have I ever… been kissed." Her voice is quiet at the end.

His eyes flash over to hers. "What?"

She frowns. "It's not that bad! I – "

"No, no, no! I mean – " He's surprised. He's known Evie her whole life, all but a few of his, so sometimes he forgets to see her as a girl. To him she's just Evie, his best friend, the girl who doesn't think it's weird that his father makes watches when most people don't use them anymore. A girl who'd rather spend time with him than with anyone else. "I just mean – you're a cheerleader," he finishes lamely.

She slaps his arm. "And we're all sluts, right? Geez, grow up."

But she's laughing so she's not mad, and he laughs, too. Underneath the amusement though he feels a twinge and it takes a moment for him to identify the emotion… He's happy that she hasn't been kissed yet.