Homecoming
It's funny. Gabriel's wallet is, legally, all his. After all, the license says Gabriel Paul Sylar- and he's definitely going to keep that, at the very least. The credit cards, everything. They're all his. He can even lay claim to the small folded picture inside, three people smiling awkwardly for a camera held at arm's length. It's all his.
So is the house at the address he's walking to. It's probably cosigned under his name. He really should have visited it before.
He smiles as he puts his hand on the knob, letting it unlock itself. He pushes the door open, eyes searching as he walks through, ears listening for a heartbeat. "Mohinder?" he calls out, cautiously.
So is the house at the address he's walking to. It's probably cosigned under his name. He really should have visited it before.
He smiles as he puts his hand on the knob, letting it unlock itself. He pushes the door open, eyes searching as he walks through, ears listening for a heartbeat. "Mohinder?" he calls out, cautiously.