thewatchmaker: (ballcap)
Character: Sylar
Genre: Gen
Author: [livejournal.com profile] thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 900ish
Rating: G
Prompt: John Constantine: God's a kid with an ant farm, lady. He's not planning anything. vol4.8.2011 for [livejournal.com profile] scifi_muses
061. The practical girl. 69/100 for [livejournal.com profile] 100_fairytales
Notes: After the Walker murder and attack on Hansen and Parkman.


It was pitch black, and the air was brittle. I tucked my hands into my pockets, trying to keep them warm as my breath smoked the air. Down the highway I could see the lights of a big rig heading my way. There were half a dozen of them choking the parking lot and a few dust covered cars, most of those were stuffed with luggage from families on adventures through the wonders of Arizona and New Mexico.

Overhead the velvet night was filled with a billion stars, and I paused at the edge of the diner parking lot to gaze up at them. They were beautiful, and it made me smile when I recognized quite a few of the constellations. I’d never been able to see them in New York, but I’d still memorized the drawings when I was a kid all in the hopes of seeing them someday.

It was like walking into a furnace when I stepped into the diner as the warm air, smelling of French fries, meatloaf with a hint of chili hit me in the face. Only a few of the patrons bothered to look at me as walked in. Mostly it was the kids with their faces smeared with ketchup or milkshakes with their exhausted parents who paid me any attention. The waitresses barely looked as I ambled over to one of the many open seats at the counter.

I ordered coffee and a cheeseburger with fries. You don’t order experimental food at a diner unless you wanted to spend the next twenty-four hours belching or worse. I’m not one for taking risks with food. There are better ways for me to find my excitement. I pulled out my list, smoothing out the rumpled piece of paper to read the names. I knew them by heart. I’d memorized them long before I left New York and Chandra’s corpse cooling in the front seat of his cab. But I liked to look at them.

“No more mistakes,” I murmured as I started mixing five packets of sugar into the greasy coffee, and then followed the sugar with a few things of creamer. It still smelled bitter, but at least it’d be drinkable. I took one sip and poured two more things of sugar into it. So much for drinkable.

With a touch of telekinesis a red pen flew from the counter under the kitchen divider and into my hand. I carefully drew a line through a few of the names on the list. When I got to James Walker, I drew a circle around it and double underlined under the name Molly. I’d only gotten one there when I should have gotten two. It was disappointing even if what I’d done to James and his wife had been my best work yet.

I’d finally found a way to get the skull open and find the power on the first try. It had worked on Brian, and it had worked on James, but there were a few failures along the way. Bodies that I’d left in various states of disarray. Usually the real destruction had happened when I’d gone dumpster diving through their brains, and I hadn’t been able to take the powers.

“Christmas list?” My attention was instantly drawn to the thin woman standing on the other side of the stained counter with a pot of the vile brew in her hands. Before I could protest she added more of the toxic swill to my cup, ruining my careful coffee to sugar to milk ratio.

“Yes.” I gave her a friendly smile. “I’m just about finished with my shopping, but I think it’s time I got a little something for myself.” I folded the list in half along the well-worn folds and shoved it back in my pocket before she could get a good look at it or remember the names. That was the kind of sloppiness that gets you caught, and I already had the FBI hunting for me. Not that I was afraid of them. They’d proven to be pretty useless when I’d gone looking for Molly at the police department.

But that was when he’d caught my eye. He was a big guy, and he had a power to match. I didn’t know what it was. Hell, I didn’t know his name, but the cop who’d stopped me from killing Agent Hansen would be mine sooner or later. I’d be in his head, taking what I wanted. Making his power mine as it should be.

“That sounds nice. It’s good to treat yourself.” She turned when the bell rang; telling her another order was up. She carefully deposited my cheeseburger in front of me, and then went to help another customer.

Thankfully the cheeseburger was better than the coffee had been. When I was done I left a five tucked until my plate for a tip, and paid my bill. The night hadn’t gotten any warmer, so I was pretty happy when one of the truckers offered to give me a ride. I was even happier when I noticed he had that spark that made him special. And to think I’d decided to pass on dessert.