Pieces to a puzzle...

[fixthepast]

Somehow I've found myself working for the Company.  Still not sure how that happened but it's not something I was going to turn down either.  A chance to be around all these specials?  Gain their powers and fuck with their minds?  What's not to love?  But for now I have to do all the tedious work and the first person I get to see is Sylar. He comes

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[fixthepast]

"Too big, too many rooms, too many nannies." I make a face. "I swear, the only time I saw my parents or even Nathan was during the holidays. You were right before, I never fit in with them but that's okay too. I didn't miss much." He calls me a kid for wanting to piss my mother off and I laugh again. "Yeah, well, it's one of the few things I do that she even acknowledges."

He tells me he likes my bed and I grin. "Thanks, I do too. We can get you one like it, if that's what you want. Or something else." I watch him as he tries to decide what to eat and then finally taps the spaghetti. "Good choice." I dump it on to a plate and put it in the microwave. "I did, actually. At least the sauce. Home made, my own recipe. You'll have to tell me what you think." The timer goes off and I take out the plate and set it on the table, grabbing him a fork.

[heartofmurder]

I wonder why I turned out the way I did when my mom was always around. He turned out the way he is cause his never was. Maybe it was cause of my dad leaving? He never talks about his dad. I wonder why that is. I want to ask, but I already forget a second later.

I give him a shrug about the bed. I'm not sure what I want to do. I should decide that when I'm sober because now, everything involving him sounds good. "I cook every once in a while, but nothing fancy. My mother used to make her own sauce too. I can't wait to try yours." Fucking hell, Sylar, could you sound more pathetic and eager? Gabriel.

I take the fork and dig right in, slurping up a noodle, then covering my mouth as I laugh. "Oh man, this is really good! You're good at this," I push at his shoulder playfully, then go back to eating. "This is great. This is such a good night," I say softly, mostly to myself and not even really realizing that I'm talking.

[fixthepast]

"I had the cooks teach me because I wanted to be able to cook once I moved out of the house. I didn't want to live off of take-out." I chuckle. That would drive me insane. "If you remember her recipe, you might have to show it to me sometime, I'd be curious to try it." Grinning when he says he can't wait to taste mine, I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit down to drink it while he eats.

"Thank you, I try. It tasted like it was still missing something but I couldn't figure out what. Maybe you can tell me." I'm pretty sure I know what, I just want to see if he can figure it out. He pushes at my shoulder and I laugh lightly. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself Sylar, you deserve to. And I'm glad that I could give it to you. You've made my night better too." He really has.

[heartofmurder]

"That's good. At least you cared enough to learn." They had cooks too? Jesus, they're so rich. He was probably like one of the kids at school that used to beat me up when I was younger. Rich, stuck up. I remember thinking that about him, but not anymore. "I think I can remember her recipe. Maybe... maybe you can come over for dinner sometime too and I can cook for you." Oh fuck, did I just invite him over? Fuck

[fixthepast]

"Thyme, damn it. Of course I would, I have a tendency to forget it." I laugh. It's good to know that he can tell that just from taste. "I'll have to remember that next time." He looks happy when I tell him he's made my night better too. It's interesting. This wasn't what I had planned when I first started seeing him at work but...maybe this is better. Even if he doesn't give me everything I want, he can at least give me the specials to experiment on.

"Good, I'm glad. I'll have to make sure to keep some leftovers around for when you come to visit the nights you don't come for dinner." What the hell am I saying? Good god. But the thought of it actually seems good and I want him to come over. Odd. He rests his head on his hand and I grin.

"Tomorrow will be a very good day but, for now, I think you need sleep. And since you look like you're about ready to fall asleep on your feet, you're taking my spare room tonight. I'm not sending you home like this." I take his plate, rinsing it off in the sink.

[heartofmurder]

"There are a lot of ingredients. It's easy to forget something like that." I never do, but I don't want to rub it in his face. I don't really feel the need to be rude or defensive with him any longer. He says he'll keep some leftovers for me and I have the strong urge to lean over and kiss him, but even as drunk as I am, I shove that one away. No fucking way. What the hell? "Things always taste better the second day anyway," I say instead.

I look at him surprised when he says to take the spare room, "I'm okay, really." I really should go home, but I do feel like I'm gonna fall asleep any minute now, "I wouldn't want to impose. I just showed up here and you probably had things to do. I should let you get back to them." Hell, I don't even know what time it is. My internal clock is all screwed up from getting drunk.

[fixthepast]

I'm pretty sure he wouldn't but I don't care, really. I'll just have to make sure next time to include it. He's not giving me shit about it so that's something. He starts to lean towards me but then pulls back and I wonder what that was about. Whatever it is, he looks a bit off balance. He really must be drunk. "They really can. Pizza especially."

I snort when he protests. "No, you're not. It's a long drive back to your place and you're falling asleep as it is. Take the room, you're not imposing. I'm insisting, what kind of host would I be otherwise?" I laugh when he says I had plans. "Sylar, my plans were what you saw me doing when you came here. Drinking wine and listening to music. I had a much more enjoyable time with you than I would've otherwise."

Getting up, I tug on his arm. "Come on. I have spare pajamas you can borrow and an extra toothbrush. The bed's made, all you have to do is crash." I lead the way to the room.

[heartofmurder]

"Oh. Well... okay," I say when he says he's insisting. I guess I can't argue with that and I really want to try his bed. Well, the guest bed. Still. The fact that he had a much better time with me than he would have normally really throws me and I just stand up, completely stunned as he tugs on my arm.

I follow him toward the room, smiling when I see the decor, "Thank you. This is really very nice of you." I reach out, brushing my fingers lightly against his, then go over to the bed and sit down, bouncing a little, "This bed is nice too!" Of course it is. He surrounds himself with very nice things. Hopefully that will really include me. I feel like a fucking teenager, hoping for a future invite to a party. I never got those, but now I'm good enough.

[fixthepast]

He follows me into the bedroom and I go into the dresser and find him something to wear. "No problem. Like I said Sylar, I enjoyed having you here and you gave me something to do other then drink and listen to music." I hand him the pajama pants and a t-shirt. "Sorry, it's all I have." For as nice as everything is, usually I sleep in only boxers or pajama pants.

His fingers brush mine and for some reason I feel a spark but I try to brush it aside. He goes and jumps on the bed and I laugh, shaking my head. "Hopefully you'll sleep good. If you need anything, just wake me up and ask. You know where the bathroom is. Sleep yourself out, if it gets too late, I'll call Bennet and tell him that you're sick or something."

[heartofmurder]

"This is good, thank you," I take the pajamas from him, starting to unbutton my shirt, "I'm sure I'll sleep just fine. This bed is a lot bigger than mine." Everything is. And having his heart beat near me might help. What? Jesus.

I blink at him when he says he'll call Bennet, "Oh no, it's okay. I can go in. I don't... I don't want to miss a day. I can do it." That's the last thing I need. People calling in sick for me, "Really. I'll wake on time and head in. Thank you." I continue unbuttoning my shirt, finally getting off, then pulling the t-shirt on. I go for my pants, but my fingers fumble on the belt and I let out a soft chuckle, giving up and flopping back, "Oh man, I'm gone." I rub my eyes, looking at him blearily.

[fixthepast]

I watch as he unbuttons his shirt and it's all of a sudden hard to focus on what he's talking about. Bed, bigger...shit. "Yeah? We'll have to fix that for you too, when we get you a new bed." I really need to stop talking about beds. No one has effected me like this before. Ever. It's starting to throw me off balance

[heartofmurder]

"New bed. I've never had a new bed. All my stuff I've had for ages," I muse, looking over at him, "What time do you usually wake up for work?" This all feels very strange, but comfortable in a way. I've never had anything like this before.

I give him a nod when he says he should leave, "Sure. I'll get them off eventually," I chuckle, sliding up a little higher on the bed and kicking my shoes off. "Thanks for letting me stay. Have a good night, Peter." I give him a small wave, then get back to work on my pants.

[fixthepast]

I have to get him a new bed now, that's all there is to it. If nothing else, to at least show him that he can trust me. "Usually about seven, sometimes a bit earlier. The machine goes off about 6:30." He tells me that he'll get his pants and I nod, chuckling as I leave the room.

Getting ready for bed, I lay there, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what the hell happened tonight. So many interesting things found out, so much information to process. And then there's the odd stuff, the things that I can't even explain why they happened. Maybe too much wine, maybe that's what it is. Sighing, I close my eyes and fall asleep, not even waking up to my alarm going off.

[heartofmurder]

I wake up to the worst headache I've had since... fuck, I can't even remember. Since I was down on Level 5. Yeah, this is comparable to that. My mouth is dry too, just like then and every muscle in my body hurts. Oh god, maybe I'm in a cell. But the soft bed under me sure doesn't feel like I am. Soft, comfortable... oh god, I feel like I might puke. Where the hell am I?

I finally manage to crack an eye open and then I see the room and instantly remember last night. Fuck. Fucking hell. I'm at Petrelli's apartment, completely hung over. And I'm so late, but the thought of that makes me feel even more sick and I roll off the bed, stumbling toward the bathroom and sink down on the floor in front of the toilet. Someone is going to fucking pay for this.

[fixthepast]

I'm sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating some toast when I hear movement in the spare room and then the bathroom. Well, he's finally awake. Bennet had been pissed when I told him that Sylar wasn't coming in today but I told him that as his doctor, it was my say whether someone was too sick to come in or not.

Going over to the counter, I pour him a cup of coffee and bring out the sugar and cream, just in case. I start some toast going and then wait for him to come out and show me whether he really is alive or not.

[heartofmurder]

I wont throw up. I absolutely refuse to throw up. Bad enough I'm down on my knees in front of a toilet, I'm not going to get sick. I take a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. I can do it with everything else, I have to do it with this too