Author's Note: Okay, so this is another story that I'm working on. Please review and let me know what you think. If it completely sucks then I will delete it and work solely on Tutus Locus. Here's the first chapter though. Enjoy

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The only person strong enough to save them was the same person who had always been strong enough to beat them. She knew she was right, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach that it caused. If she really wanted to save Peter, Matt, Mohinder, and all the others that had been locked away in the Government Containment Center—the secret Government Containment Center of course—created by her own fathers, then she was going to have to put her feelings on the backburner.

She texted Rebel and asked him to find Sylar and he had, though Claire wasn't exactly sure how he had done it. Sylar appeared to be on his way to see his father, Samson Gray. There was no end to the things that Rebel could do, she learned, when not only did he retrieve Samson's government files, but Sylar's as well. He had even secured her a plane ticket. That boy—or girl, she thought to herself—was amazing.

She left a letter for her mother explaining that she couldn't just sit around on the so called free pass while Specials were being hunted and why the thousand dollar emergency fund was suddenly depleted. She just prayed that her mom would heed her warning about her father and not call him. That would only make matters worse.

On the plane, she read Samson's file that Rebel had sent her. A file detailing his whole life from the Company and more recently, the government. She had never really believed that someone could be worse than Sylar, bur his father certainly took the cake on that one. He was one of two boys and the only one born with an ability. It was called Intuitive Aptitude and, like so many abilities, it came with a consequence. The Company called it 'The Hunger', and detailed it as an uncontrollable lust for other abilities that eats away at the Special once the ability manifests. He had killed hundreds of people and he didn't discriminate between Special and ordinary, between man or women, adult or child. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word.

In 1979, he married a woman named Allison Davis who had an ability called Empathetic Aptitude. Like her husband, she was able to take others abilities. Only her ability copied other Specials through empathy. They had one child together, Gabriel, born October 23, 1980. In 1987, Samson sold Gabriel to his brother, Martin, and then killed Allison in front of his son by slicing open her head. For the last ten years, Samson had been inactive, primarily kept to himself, and was dying of terminal cancer. So far, he had managed to elude the government agents.

The plane was landing when Claire finished reading and she quickly slid her laptop back into her bag, trying hard not to make excuses for the person Sylar had become. She secured a room at a small motel down the road from the airport and paid the cab driver. She wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a fresh pair of clothes. But, a text from Rebel stopped her. Sylar was with his father.

She took another cab to the address Rebel had provided for her and found an old, rundown, junky house. With a deep breath, age found the door and knocked before she lost her nerve. She just hoped that the truck in the yard was Sylar's. It was hard to place the killer from the file to the sickly old man who clearly enjoyed taxidermy and was currently standing across the screen door.

"Can I help you?" he rasped out.

"Um, I hope so. My name is, uh, Allison Butler and I'm looking for someone." She had no idea why she had used his dead wife's name or the name she had used when she first moved to California. "His name is Gabriel. He's your son and I heard that he was coming to meet you." she finished.

"My son? Well, I haven't seen him since he wad a child."

"I see. Well, if you do happen to see him, will you let him know that the cheerleader is looking for him?" He nodded and she turned to leave before turning back around to thank him.

The words never left her mouth though because as soon as she was facing him again, she was run through by a sword and stuck to the porch beam. A sword, really? Who has a sword just lying around? She thought to herself.

"My, my, this must be my lucky day. My long lost son arrives with a delectable ability that he got from a cheerleader and that cheerleader just happens to show up on my doorstep looking for my son. Destiny always had such a sense of humor." Claire closed her eyes as he raised his hand in an eerily reminiscent version of his son. But, instead of the cut that would only feel like a tingle against her skin, she heard the old man hit the side of the opposite porch rail. Opening her eyes, she saw him grab for his oxygen mask as he coughed violently, and for once was grateful to see Sylar standing over him.

She breathed his name and he turned his head slowly in acknowledgement. She could practically see anger rolling off if him as he turned back to his father.

"You're right. Forever is a long time to suffer alone and people are a disappointment." Sylar looked disgusted. "But, make no mistake about it. That cheerleader is mine. And, you will not be laying hand or ability on one single part of her indestructible body. Instead, you get to stay here and rot away slowly with the knowledge that you never did anything in your life to garner respect or even fear. But, I'm going to go and live the rest of my eternity with one very important difference from my pathetic father." he pointed at her body that was still impaled by Samson's sword. "Her. Because whether she loves me or loathes me, she will never disappoint me. And, she will always be there, sharing eternity with me."

When he was finished, he pulled the sword from her gut and tossed it on the porch beside the dying old man. Claire spared only a haughty smirk for the taxidermist as she followed Sylar to the truck.

They were back in her motel room before he spoke to ask why in the Hell she was following him.

"I haven't been following you. Technically." he raised his eyebrows and she hated the way that he could still scare her. "I just found you."

"Why? What do you want?"

Knowing he wasn't in the mood for small talk, she explained about everyone being locked up, about her fathers creating the containment center, about being expected to sit back on a guilt given free pass. She told him about Rebel and his ability, about how she found him and then finished how she began, "I need your help."

"So, let me get this straight. Bio-dad got the government involved, put together a secret agency, and built a secret containment center with Daddy Bennet's old Company files; they've locked all of the heroes up except you and you want me to shut them down and play rescue ranger?"

She had the decency to look sheepish as she replied, "Um, yeah, that about covers it."

"And, what do I get out of it?"

"To stop being hunted by government agents?" she tried without success.

"With all the information you just gave me, I could take down the agency and still get rid of all the heroes that want me dead."

"Well, you could, but then whose face would you rub it in." she was trying to play dirty. She was a Petrelli after all.

"Don't try to manipulate me Claire-bear. You aren't nearly as good at it as Noah or grandma Petrelli." he said and tone sent shivers down her spine. "Nevertheless, I'll play your little game."

Her eyes lit up like a child at Christmas. "You'll help me?"

"As long as it benefits me, yes, I'll help."

"Thanks." she muttered, not really knowing what else to say to the serial killer that held her fate in his hands. "I've got money. But, it's only going to last us a couple of days."

"Don't worry about it." he said as he picked up the plastic cup from the table beside him and turned it into pure gold.

"Show off." she sulked and went into the bathroom with her bag, studiously ignoring his laughter.

They were gone from the motel by seven the next morning. They had stopped at a store and bought him new clothes before borrowing a new car and then going to a diner that reminded him of the Burnt Toast Diner in Odessa.

"Well, aren't you two just absolutely adorable together." Their elderly waitress commented as she came over to the booth they had slid into and he almost couldn't contain his laughter as he watched his cheerleader bristle.

"Um, we, we aren't together, like that." She stammered and the waitress looked surprised.

"Oh. I'm sorry. You two just look so perfect together that I assumed you were, my mistake. What can I get you two?"

"Waffles!" Claire exclaimed a little too enthusiastic for his tastes.

"Bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon."

"Eggs?"

"Yes please. And chocolate milk." She smiled up at the woman who took her menu and looked to Sylar for his order.

"Coffee. And a southwest omelet."

"Alright. It'll be right out." She said as she took Sylar's menus and walked back towards the counter.

"So."

"So what?" he was already annoyed with her.

"What's the plan?"

"I go in. Kill everybody and you get your little heroes out of their cells. End of story."

"Oh. Well, what happens if you can't get in?"

"Won't happen."

"But what if it does?" she asked again as the waitress sat their drinks down.

"It won't."

"You have to be prepared." She said taking a long sip of her chocolate milk. She was such a child.

"Claire. Shut up."

"Jeez, you're grouchy in the mornings."

Rolling his eyes he looked up at her. "We aren't friends Claire. As soon as I take out this damn agency you're going home and I'm going on my way to taking more abilities."

"Whatever."

She was quiet the rest of the meal.

She felt like they had been in the car forever. And he wouldn't even let her turn the radio on. He was such a control freak. She had already read his file—before her laptop battery died, that is—and she hated the slight sympathy that she started to have for him. She also hated to find out that her own dad had helped turn him from sweet, innocent Gabriel Gray to Sylar.

"You know, you could at least try to be nice to me." She pouted.

"Why? You came looking for me remember?" She was going to start talking again.

"Because, it would make this trip a whole lot easier if you would just get over your psycho killer ways and be a normal person."

"We're not normal Claire." He responded to her inane comment.

Huffing, she continued, "Well, you can at least at as normal as a Special person can be! You don't have to be so damned I hate the world."

"I do hate the world."

"I think that you're lying."

"You don't know anything about me." He muttered.

"I know more than you think." This got his attention and he looked over at her sharply.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't think you hate the world. I think you just want to be accepted. I think that you were a good guy who got taken over by his ability. I think that-"

"Shut up Claire."

"Why? Am I telling the truth?"

"You don't know anything!" he yelled.

"Then why are you so defensive?" she yelled back and he swerved the car off the road, nearly crashing them into the ditch and causing the cars behind them to honk loudly.

"I'm not defensive."

"Yeah? Well, tell that to the car which now has a flat tire!"

"Be careful little girl. You're wrong. I'm not a good guy. I will kill you and forget about this whole stupid idea of saving your heroes."

"Then why haven't you done it yet?" she was treading on dangerous territory. "Why haven't you killed me? You've had plenty of chances." She spoke softly now. "You could have killed me the day you took my ability, but you didn't. You don't want me dead. And, it's because you don't want to be alone."

End Chapter One