Sylar is free of the salt now, free of the motel that was his cage. He's invisible, silent, almost impossible to sense. If he wanted to, he could simply leave and go his own way as Darla rambles (and boy, can she ramble). She wouldn't know until it was far too late to even attempt finding him.

He could leave right now and be free again. Start his interrupted mission again.

But--

He's already had to start again once, says a small voice inside him. He's already died. How many times is he going to have to fall short of the bar before he starts setting it that little bit lower?

He's always tried to ignore that voice, but right now the usual counter-arguments seem futile and hollow.

And Darla. She made it possible for him to be free. She knows exactly what he is and what he's done, and she's forgiven him.

He doesn't quite know how to react to that.

With surprise. With shame. With gratitude.

With the decision to keep silently following her, as easy as it would be to slip away.