AN: I want to thank everyone who read the first draft of my first chapter, which was a one-shot when I started it last night. I want to thank all of you for your constructive criticism, and I've taken it to heart. I will continue, so I obviously changed the title. This is planned to be a short fic, not more than five chapters, I guesstimate. I've fixed all the issues that were in the previous chapter, and since Claire is a new character for me to write about (I used to see her as whiny until recently. She's still a little "Oh woe is me," but she's dimmed that down, and I like her character a little more) be prepared that I'm going to be a little rough around the edges with her and she sometimes might be a little OOC. Other than that, thanks again!

Disclaimer: I had this wrong last time. I'm going to admit, my mind was fuzzy due to lack of sleep when I wrote the disclaimer, but I was quickly reminded this morning and sough to fix it. TIM Kring is the creator of Heroes. So I obviously don't own it, nor does "David" Kring, whoever he is. :p

Part One: Not Really Asleep

Claire's alarm beeped promptly at eight o'clock in the silent morning, waking her from her peaceful slumber in order for her to get to class on time. Barely awake, she quietly rolled over, and tapped the snooze button to silence it. She ran a hand over her eyes, getting rid of the sleep in her eyes, and took a deep calming breath. The sun's rays shone into her room, landing brightly on her face, making her blink several times until her eyes adjusted to it. She sat up, shaking her tired head awake and ran a hand over her forehead and through her hair. She looked over to Gretchen's bed, noticing her roommate wasn't awoken by her alarm. Claire smiled at that.

Gretch and Claire had a rocky last couple weeks. What, with Claire having to start having protection detail again, then Claire abandoned her on their runaway trip to the carnival four days ago, leaving Gretch only with the promise that she'd return to school for her studies as soon as break was completely over. Of course their relationship was getting strenuous. Not to mention Gretch's awkward crush on her, but Claire didn't pay any attention to it. It was a small price to pay to have someone to confide in, and Gretch understood Claire's standing on it at least.

Today is going to be a fun day, she thought sarcastically. Claire hopped to her feet, completely switching off her alarm, and walked over to her little closet area. For some strange reason, she felt she should work a little harder on her looks today. Something in her gut just told her that her biggest necessity today was her beauty. So she pulled out a small blue sweater, nice blue jeans, and grabbed her black winter coat. It was January after all, it would be cold, especially in the DC area. Being used to the warm southern Texan weather, Northern Virginia's winter was somewhat hellish for her. She found blue ballet flats with a small heel that went with her outfit and slipped them on.

She quietly pulled out her make-up, and decided that she should do her entire face instead of just base, blush, mascara, and lip gloss. No, she'd put on eyeliner, eye shadow, a light pink lipstick, and curl those lashes this time. As soon as she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror to double check everything was blended correctly, a habit her mother made her practice in high school which she was thankful for presently. She didn't smile or anything into the mirror. It was hard to do such a thing at the moment, considering her father had legally just been killed, and the man she had thought to be her father for the better half of a year was a mass murderer that stole her ability. Who could smile at times like these?

Nodding her approval, she quickly walked over to her desk and shoved newly bought books into her bag, along with her new schedule and map. Ah, yes, the start of a new term, with new classes and new teachers. Finishing her timely packing, she set out of her dorm to look for her new class. Her first class was, go figure, Health, like she needed that course. Anytime something unhealthful happened to her, her body would zap it out of existence. Diseases she'd learn about in that class, like AIDS, would never harm her, so why worry about it? But it was part of her core curriculum and had to be taken, otherwise she'd never be able to graduate. Anyway, the class was in the Tucker Building, and she honestly had no idea where that was.

She pulled out her map, trying to find what building out of the 56 buildings on there was the one she was looking for. Finally she gave up, and looked around her surroundings, seeing a guy, maybe a year or two older than her, standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street.

"Excuse me," she called out, walking over to him. He turned to face her, his face holding a quizzical expression. He had brown almost black hair and dark brown eyes. He had a beautiful brooding forehead and a boyish rounded nose. He also had thin pink lips and medium sized eyebrows. He reminded her of a mixture between West and Sylar, but she shrugged it off. She figured if Sylar would ever disguise himself, he wouldn't look anything like his normal self. "I'm sorry to bother you," she added acting out a small smile. "I'm looking for the Tucker Building, but can't find it on my map. Do you know where it is?"

"Oh, it's off campus," he stated, a pitiful smirk on his face.

"I signed up for a health class off campus?" she cursed to herself, barely audible.

"Actually, it's not too far off campus. Twenty minutes away really. Who do you have?" he asked. "I happen to be going there too for Health."

She was completely caught off guard and fumbled for the name of her professor in her mind. "Oh, Mr. Hogstein," she replied, fishing out her schedule to double check. "Yeah, Hogstein."

"This is so strange, me too," he laughed. "Why don't I give you a ride? You know save gas, be green." He added the last bit jokingly, and it brought her out of her depressed stupor for a second, making her laugh a little.

"Sure, why not," she shrugged.

"Alright, my car's over here," he gestured, to the parking lot on the other side of the street. As soon as it was clear, they crossed and walked over to a slightly worn silver Ford Durango. It was obvious this car had been driven, but it was also obvious that he took good care of it. He unlocked it and gave her a strong arm to help her climb in the passenger side. As soon as she was seated, he closed her door, then jogged back over to the left side of the car and hopped in the driver's seat.

"Here we go," he said, starting the car and pulling out of the space. "Buckle up," he added, putting his own seatbelt on. She smiled, shaking her head, and clicked the seatbelt in place.

"So, what's your name?" she asked.

"Urm," he murmured, focusing on the cars fly by in front of him. He then saw and opening and pulled out quickly, turning left. Another intersection came up for a bigger road, which he turned right on it as soon as possible. His speed gradually picked up. A minute later he asked, "What was the question again?"

"What's your name?" she said, brows furrowed wondering why he dodged to question. She then gave him the benefit of the doubt, remembering that he was focusing on the heavy traffic at the intersections at the time.

"Jake," he said. "Jake Angel, but please, call me J." Just as he said that, he made a turn on I-25, a major highway that was too close to campus, but hey, what could you do?

"So, J, do you always give random strangers rides?" she asked coyly. She was feeling a little flirty at the moment. He was a cute guy after all.

"Only if they are beautiful girls," he chuckled back.

"Flirt," she laughed. "You wouldn't be trying to pull a fast one on me, would you?" She was joking when she asked, but when she looked up at him, it was serious.

His speed was nearly 90 miles an hour, and luckily there were very few cars on the length of road. "Actually," he said. His voice had changed into the voice that haunted her dreams. He wasn't J, and she could see him transforming into his original self.

Her eyes widened with fear. "Sylar," she rasped, reaching for the door lock with one hand, the other reaching for the buckle.

Quickly he rose his right hand holding her in place, saying, "I wouldn't do that, Claire." He knew exactly that she was hoping to get herself free and jump out of the car, running back to the school. He wouldn't let her. He needed her.

All she could do was look at him in fear. Not just his face, though. She was more afraid of his hand than anything, so she watched that too, hoping he kept all five digits open. That was when she noticed marking on his arm. Curious, she focused her sight more on it, only to find she was looking at herself. "Why do you have a tattoo of me on your arm?" she blurted, no longer thinking about the fact this was Sylar. The entire situation was too bizarre and seemed more like something she'd see in one of her restless dreams. Sylar getting a tattoo of her, honestly, creeped her out more than he did.

"I need you," Sylar stated through pursed lips. These were words he almost spat out with disdain.

"You already have my power!" she hissed. "Or have you forgotten?" The last part came out in a feral growl. She definitely was not one to be messed with at the moment.

"I didn't say 'I need your power!'" he snapped back, shaking his head with a look that said he couldn't believe how stupid she was being. "I said 'I need you.'"

It was silent for a minute as Claire's brain processed this. She blinked a couple times, giving him a dumb look. There was no way this was real life. If it was, Sylar wouldn't have a tattoo of her and he wouldn't be saying he needed her. So this was either a hallucination or a dream. Her reasoning leant toward the latter. What crazy thoughts was her mind conjuring up? She blinked hard again, then opened them, seeing she was still in the truck. "Why am I not awake?" she asked herself.

"Probably because you weren't asleep in the first place," he stated in an annoyed tone.

"Then explain why you have a tattoo, because last time I checked, you had my power, which would heal away pigmentation of a tattoo injection," she stated in a smart tone. Her dream right? He couldn't hurt her.

"Because Samual did mine. You know, the carnie?" he stated, still annoyed. She raised her brows telling him she knew who he was talking about. "I took the tattoo woman's power –"

"You killed her!?" Claire yelled.

"No!" he yelled back. "Now, stop interrupting!" Claire bit the inside of her lip, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Samual told me I needed something, and he was sure it was the carnival. We made a bet that he could inject me with the revealing ink for the tattoo that told me what I need. If it was the carnival I'd stay, if it wasn't I'd leave. Obviously, it wasn't the carnival," he stated, gesturing to himself. Claire blinked several times again, processing this information, not really believing this wasn't some strange fitful dream. "Now, are you going to stay in the car, because I want to talk," Sylar demanded.

"Sure, what harm's a little dream conversation?" she replied boredly, shrugging.

"This isn't a dream," Sylar stated in an annoyed fashion again as he dropped his hand and put it on the steering wheel again. Then a smirk appeared on his face and he added, "unless you dream of me often." For show, he added a small eyebrow waggle, which only made her nauseous.

"Only in nightmares," she sighed, looking out the window, completely putting him off.

AN: Remember to review! Thanks! ^.^