It was all coming down (in flames that didn't leave a single burn) crumbling piece by piece to the ground, one more crack (caused by those who wish to watch it fall upon itself, Elle, Sylar, and now me) and it would come crashing down on top of us all.

The beginning (but the end for Claire, cheerleading and blond curls) came sooner then anyone thought, it came when everything was crashing around me and a certain 'old friend' was coming just around the corner ready for the kill.

"Hi Claire."

"Sylar."

The name (name of a man that I had been waiting for, waiting for him to come and pull me upon, head first) of the enemy that now had a face, (that smirking face that found it's way into my nightmares every night of every day) stuck to the top of my throat in fear and the scream that wanted to come was hiding away.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time."

To me it seemed like one moment, like I had blinked and found myself here alone with a serial killer with my brain on his mind, a father that is almost dead to me (he would be better off dead) and a family that is falling through the cracks while I watch, helpless, the cause of it all.

I'll spare you the details (the many gruesome details) that I wasn't given the chance to not know, (they were after all happening to me and my pink little brain) but to my surprise and many others he put me back together again, leaving me with weird words like 'I can't kill you' and 'the same'.

It left me breathless, the questions that had been floating around my head (that was off for about thirty seconds) were answered and my fear was faced but it still left me with one more question that I feared would go unanswered, why?

Why? Why in this (horrible, always at the brink of destination) world would Sylar let me live?

Years later (in the future that Hiro once spoke to me about when I still was rosy cheeks and curly locks of golden) he didn't give much of an answer because he was busy staring at the girl before him and it was quite certain that she wasn't the Claire-Bear invisible cheerleader he remembered.

"Are you going to just stand there with your mouth open or answer my question, you know brain-boy I don't have all day."

The gun (yes gun, in the hands of itty-bitty little Claire-Bear) fit just as well in my hands as it had when it it was pointing at someone I loved (far too much, but the love fit well with the new me, wrong, bad), Peter.

"Well, this was something I didn't see coming, Claire or is it still Claire (that name Claire, Claire-Bear sounds too innocent for who and what you are now)?"

"It's Sandra, now was that answering my question, I don't think so. I've been waiting for quite some time too ask you this and I expect an answer or you'll find a bullet buried in your head and trust me you won't bounce back from that one."

"Fine, little miss no-more-blond, I'll answer your little question but I'm afraid it will be the same as the first time you asked. I couldn't kill you."

"Why the hell not? Sylar the psychopathic serial killer couldn't kill me? Now that's something no one would ever believe."

"Why? Do I need to explain even more, Claire Oh sorry Sandra-Bear? We're the same, it was blurry at the beginning but by the look of you (covered head to toe in leather and combat boots that want nothing more then to step all over me) I was right, we're the same, one."

His words sent tremors (more then the words that Peter spoke, wide-eyed at what I had become, "What happened to you?" I wanted to scream, you, this power and save the cheerleader save the world, you should have let me die.) though me with the truth that was shining off his words, at what I had become.

I wasn't what my father (what father I don't see him?) had feared I would become, Elle Bishop, in all of her crazy, no I had become Sylar in all of his (bloody, gory) glory.

The last spark of her (Claire-bear with a pad-lock on her mouth) wanted to scream, "I'm nothing like you, I could never be." but the me here and now knew that every single word was one big lie, what I was, what I had become was him.

"I knew that, too bad you don't have anything new for me."

"Oh I think I have something very new and deadly."

"And that would be?"

I wish I could say that I regretted ever uttering those four words (more so then the 'I love you' that was always going to come with Peter, the forbidden fruit) but I would be lying because the moment his (this bad, bad man) lips took a hold of mine I knew that I would never regret them, not now, not ever.