Jeez, that's creepy and disturbing! You're gonna traumatize my muse for Sylar!

But seriously, that's awesome. And I am a huge fan of trauma leaving marks, deep and serious and wounding ones. The crap I've had in my life has been piddly and it's still fucked me up. I can barely imagine what the characters have to tell themselves to get by every day. But with this fic, I can imagine it a little better.

I love the image/idea of Sylar happily inhabiting a single coffee shop, occupying it as different people, interacting and hanging out, people watching and doing nothing else. Not being a hero or a villain - just dropping out of the arms race and into the human race. I wonder what Peter makes of that, or Matt.

Matt deserves to be horse-whipped.