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everything's gotta burn to get back to its purest state;

all the best has yet to be laid to waste

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[rl] get your own bed spike >:(
here i dreamt i was an architect
[It's 4 am. Sylar is sleeping. Because that's usually what normal people do at 4 am. He's dreaming about ice caves ... ]

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[Spike raps softly on the door once, and then another .. time. But when Sylar doesn't immediately rouse to get the door he decides to just... walk in anyway. And watch lovingly as Sylar dreams on. Or more like creepily stare because it's really insensitive of him to sleep while Spike is hurting. But he also doesn't really have the heart to wake him up. Souls were so bothersome.]

[Sylar feels Spike watching him because sometimes you do that when you're asleep and watches you like a fucking ridiculous creeper. He slowly opens his eyes and sits up to see Spike. This is Sylar's ... not too fucking happy to have Spike wake him up at 4 in the morning face.]

Do you need something?

Need is a strong word. I was just.. checking to see if you were awake. [he knows how lame that sounds ok]

I am now. [He dramatically flops back down on the bed. If Spike wants to talk to him, he can talk while Sylar tries to return to beautiful ice skate world. Where he was skiing on cinnamon toast sticks.]

[He intends to do just that, perching on the edge of the bed now.]

I almost killed her, [Spike says softly, mostly to himself.]

Her who? [It takes him a minute to go through the archives of his memory and get to their previous conversation about this.] The slayer girl ... ?

What about her? ... What time is it?

I don't know... [he glances at the clock] 4:12.

Why are we talking about Faith at 4:12? Is she on fire?

No, she's not. [he gets up.] Sorry, mate. I'll let you get back to countin' sheep then.

[god damn it why does sylar ... have a conscience X( he sits up again.] Okay, okay. What's wrong?

I talked to Buffy. Told her.. what happened.

She said I hadn't changed, that I was still. A Bad Guy. That's what I get for tryin' to do right by her. Always has been. [shakes his head.] But it still stings.

[He pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves a sigh. Kind and considerate words at 4 am are really hard.]

That's what they do. That's why not slipping up is so important. Every. Single. Inch is a mile to them. The motives don't matter. None of it does. It doesn't matter how much they say that they love you or care or want to be your fucking friend. What they want is for you to fail.

[He nods, sitting back down on the bed.]

No, I know you're right and all. Just been.. keepin' me up.

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