Sylar

"You don't get it," Sylar snarled, sudden hot fury lighting in his eyes. "Nathan's dead, Suresh. That thing you're nursemaiding? It's not him. It's a ghost, it's a -- a cancer, and it's killing me. Just because you think you can wake me up every time you get tired of screwing him doesn't mean I'm winning. It's all slipping away and what are you doing about it?" He all but barked out a laugh. "You tell me you're helping while you screw me over, trying to make him -- me -- into something that isn't who I am. You're making it worse, and I've been helping you by letting him come back. I trusted you."

He paused, sucking in a short breath through his teeth as he tried to order his thoughts, realizing in hindsight that not only had that come out in a rush but it had been anything but coherent. If anything though, his efforts to calm himself down only seemed to further his fury. "Maybe I owe you something for not turning me in to Bennet and mom, but it's not enough. It doesn't make up for the fact that you're trying to force the redemption -- or whatever the hell this is -- that you'll never get on him. On me. I don't want it; I just want my life back. And I'm so tired of being your charity project. Or your whore. Or whatever the hell you want from me. You're not doing you're best -- you're doing whatever the fuck serves you.

"Just like your father."