TITLE: Pick Up The Pieces
RATING: PG for now (WILL Change)
PAIRING: Hints at Mylar; there will be full-on Mylar soon
SPOILERS: Lets say all of Volumes 1 & 2

SUMMARY: After the events of 'Powerless,' Sylar once again finds himself in control. However, when it comes to a certain geneticist, he finds he may not have as much control as he thought...


[Chapter 1. Shattered Glass]


Mohinder Suresh, Molly Walker, Maya Herrera, and Elle Bishop
Lower Manhattan, NY

Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? Five hours? Mohinder wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been stuck kneeling in the same spot, holding the rag stained with Maya’s blood and waiting. It seemed like an eternity, just waiting for Elle to get in touch with her father so they could fix the mess now cluttering the loft that had once belonged to the tortured painter.

Molly clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her alive, like if she let go all the evil and hurt in the world would fall in on them and swallow them whole. And, although he felt his air supply being slowly cut off by the tenacity of her tiny arms, he was grateful for some form of affectionate contact. After what had just happened, what he’d just been through, he needed it.

Still, it didn’t take away from the tense, awkward heaviness weighing down all the air around him as he, Molly, and Maya sat in silence, each having countless thoughts flitting through his or her mind, but none of them knowing how to go about voicing those thoughts. Instead, they sat avoiding each others gazes, straining to hear Elle’s voice as she talked on her cell phone outside the now-glassless front door. All the glass now lay splayed out in shards across the floor after being shattered when a certain serial-killer had fallen through the door, destroying it completely.

More than once, Mohinder caught himself staring at the shattered glass, feeling an indescribable nausea as he wondered; wondered if the man who had quickly and effectively shattered their lives as he had shattered the glass was still alive; waiting once more to strike. Each time, however, he forced himself to shrug off such thoughts telling himself that he needed to be strong for the little girl now resting her head on his shoulder.
Eventually, Elle broke the silence when she re-entered the apartment, looking immensely irritated.

“They’re not sending anyone.” She spat rather curtly. The girl seemed to have the emotional depth of a seven year old from what Mohinder had seen; she had an unpredictable nature, to say the least. This only furthered the scientist’s wariness about her. He’d seen on several occasions what she was capable of, and, while the last time he had she’d been saving his and Molly’s lives, he was not about to cross her.
“Not sending anyone? But, what if someone calls the police? Someone has to have heard the shots and-”
Elle adjusted the sling housing her injured arm as she stepped further into the room.
“Apparently they’re dealing with something major in Texas. We’re on our own.”
Mohinder sighed, pulling Molly in closer to him and resting his chin in her hair. With each passing second, he grew more and more tired. How where they supposed to fix this mess?
“On our own?” Maya sounded upset, almost panicked, “what will we do? I—that, that man is out there—”

‘That man.’ Such a simple phrase, and yet it had elicited from Maya such a clear sounding hatred, one with which Mohinder could easily identify. ‘That man.’ The one who had just held them all captive, the one who had taken countless innocent lives, the one who had taken Mohinder’s father’s life. The one who had-

“I don’t know. Let’s just clean up and get out of here. We’ll find my dad and let him deal with it.” Elle responded, cutting through Mohinder’s thoughts. Although, it didn’t provide much by way of hope or answers, it was a welcome interruption. The way his mind had tended to wander lately could only serve to get him in even more trouble than that in which he already found himself.

“Fine.” He stood up, finally dropping the blood-soaked rag and adjusting Molly in his arms, picking up his bag from the floor. He was about to head into the back room to start gathering his research when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to face Maya who looked at him fearfully.

“Doctor… I… I need help. I have hurt so many people, and now Alejandro—I have no one. Will you please-?”
Mohinder couldn’t help but smile to himself. She was the one with the power, and yet here she was, begging him for help. Her earnestness, her fearfulness almost reminded him of-
“Maya, you have my assurances that I will do everything I can to help you. I can hardly imagine what you’ve been through of late, but I promise I’ll do what I can to help.”
She beamed at him, clutching his hand to her chest in appreciation.
There it was again: that grateful smile that reminded him of his biggest mistake. But then again, everything reminded him these days.

Sylar
Lower Manhattan, NY

Adrenaline raced through his veins, coursing up and down his body at a rate he hadn’t experienced in all too long. They were back.

His abilities, each beautiful one was back. Of course, he’d tested telekinesis first; it was, after all, his first acquired ability, and his most-loved at that. It had proven time and again to be of utmost value to him, easing his many tasks, including the gathering of the many other gifts he’d since collected. Without it, he’d almost felt that empty uselessness that he’d carried throughout his entire existence as the watchmaker’s son, the cold, biting mediocrity of Gabriel Gray.

Of course, he’d known better than to give up on himself. He hadn’t become the man he had by doing so, and stumbling upon the two most desperate people he’d ever come across only further convinced him of his destiny. They were running, as the girl had no control whatsoever over her ‘gift,’ a gift, Sylar decided, she was no more deserving of than any of the other weak people he had encountered before her. Maya, Isaac, the waitress in Texas… they were all the same. Pathetic. Undeserving.

It was his destiny to take and make use of what they couldn’t, and this could have been made no clearer than when Maya and her joke of a brother had run right into him, begging for help. They were looking for Doctor Suresh… how serendipitous. Two birds with one stone. It was almost too deliciously perfect.

He needed to see the good doctor too, for more reasons than one. Of course, there was the upsetting little problem with his abilities, which he was sure Suresh could help him with. But, more importantly, Sylar had a score to settle.

Their last face-to-face confrontation before Kirby Plaza had been… less than satisfactory on Sylar’s end. It had ended with a near win against the nuisance that was Peter Petrelli being interrupted by a rather unfortunate map attack from Mohinder. Then of course, there had been Kirby Plaza, where the ever-courageous doctor had watched from the sidelines while Sylar was impaled by some irritating little Japanese man (who, by the way, was so going to get it.) And finally, their most recent meeting, with the whole stabbing attempt that lasted all of half a second. The doctor was determined, not stupid.

Even if he was, however, Sylar would not have been any more worried for his life. Mohinder was predictable; always wanting to do ‘the right thing.’ Even when it went against everything he stood for, he was willing to do it. Except, of course, when it came to Sylar.
No, when it came to Sylar, there was that hesitation. It normally only lasted for an instant, but it was enough. That flash of something in the geneticist’s eyes that signified there was something holding him back, something that made him doubt his own actions; something Sylar was all too pleased to take advantage of.

Now that he had his powers back, he would make Suresh pay. Sylar had been nothing but kind to him, offering him chance after chance to give him what he wanted, but Mohinder had taken the hard road. Now, he would lose everything, and Sylar would completely reclaim what was rightfully his.