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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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.

I thought this was when you're supposed to be awake.

[shrugs] Learned a long time ago to keep opposite hours. [and this look says, That so isn't the point.]

Look, [He makes a dismissive hand-waving gesture,] I know as much as you do about the whole thing. I don't know what to tell you. It's ironic, isn't it? You let her kill you, you die a villain. You hurt her and survive, you live as a villain. Your past pulls you down. Can't escape it, can't outrun it.

Makes you wonder what the point of it all is.

It does, at that. [He's quiet for a long moment as he stretches out to lay down on the bed, lacing his fingers over his stomach.]

Buffy believed in me once. I'll win her back. Somehow. Maybe without killing myself, even.

[He lies back down too, making them ... girls in the parent trap or something idek.]

Well, don't lock her in a hotel room.

..I take it that suggestion comes with a story.

I'm pretty sure it's a story I've already told you. I locked Claire in a hotel room, cracked out the pinot, proposed ... didn't quite go the way I was hoping.

Ah, yeah. That old song and dance. Well, I'll keep that in mind then.

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