1910 Ezekiel Drive, Seattle, WA

[watchmakers_son]

Crossing into another world feels no different from crossing into his own. It's late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky but not truly setting yet; water keeps dripping from his clothes as he steps onto the porch and lets the back door of Frank Black's house swing closed.

For whatever reason, they've painted it a garishly bright yellow. Sylar eyes the outer wall, then skates his fingers over the doorframe as he pauses, listening for --

There. Childishly high sobs from around the corner.

With a smile, he lifts his fingers away and begins to follow them.

Comments

[myloveisblue]

She looks pleased at this evidence of his ability, but it doesn't change the fact that she's waiting for his reaction.



To judge from her own expression as she watches him examine Fabricant's kidney with interest, Lucy Butler is anything but disappointed.

"It's very fresh."

She sounds absolutely certain, as well she should.

She'd been the one to remove it from its unfortunate host, after all.

(Without anesthetic.)

"It'll keep long enough for what we're going to do."

[watchmakers_son]

"Oh?" It's spoken distantly; Sylar touches the brim of the cooler, trailing his fingers along it in an absent gesture, and doesn't look up.

(It's not a broken part, but it is one removed from the whole. It's potential, in its own way. Promise.)

When Lucy begins to speak in kind, though, he does turn his attention back to her. Sylar listens closely, without objection.





Some time after that, the street's deserted again.