Authors notes: hey guys! So depth of darkness was NOT working out. I was itching to start something new, so I did a sylar/Claire. I hope to write more, but it might take me some time, so don't expect every three day update. I'll try my hardest.

Rating: M for later chapters. Violence/Romance

Summary: Thirty years in the future, everything's changed for Claire Bennett. But when Sylar comes with news about an evil Peter, will everything become what it once was?

Word count: So far, 1,292. Pretty decent for me.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HEROES. ALL CHARACTERS MENTIONED BELONG TO NBC/ TIM KRING.

"Debbie, I want that assessment on my desk by four."

Claire snapped her head up from her small cubicle desk. Her fire red hair brushed around her shoulders. She nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Her boss gave her a lingering look, draping his eyes over her body. He smiled, and continued on his way. She made sure he was gone before she rolled her eyes. The bright white from her computer screen danced in her eyes. Another headache was coming on, and she really didn't want to stare at the machine for another second. She was feeling some what off today. Today was thirty years since the ferris wheel. Her life had been a living hell for two years after that. Camera flashes, nosy people asking her questions, poking and prodding at her life. She thought being experimented on was bad, but this was essentially the same thing. She couldn't go anywhere without a sample of her ability. Or an autograph. She never saw herself as a celebrity, and it was always so strange when she had to pick up a strangers pen and scrawl her name on a napkin.

And how her family deserted her. Everyone she knew and loved turned their back. Peter, her father, Gretchen. She knew Peter had a reason. People always used to ask her if she knew anyone else who had powers, and if she hung around Peter for too long, people would eventually ask one too many questions. Her father has essentially dropped off the radar. Last she heard, he was helping people with powers stay hidden. But that was fifteen years ago, and she figured he was long dead. And Gretchen, after all the spotlight, couldn't take it anymore. She had gotten up and left.

She was left with no one. And it sucked.

She spent two years putting up with it, and expected it to continue for many more years.

But then something happened.

She had turned on her tv to check the news. The largest headline was her, with big, block letters.

CLAIRE BENNETT FOUND DEAD. ALL A HOAX?

Apparently, some chef had gone to take out the garbage, and found her body outside in the alley. Claire had turned off the tv in a daze, and had walked into her bathroom. In it, there was a bottle of black hair dye, new clothes, scissors, a plane ticket to Kansas, and a note. All it said was,

Run, Claire. Run and don't ever look back.

So, she did exactly that. She cut her hair, dyed it, and changed her name to Diana Earle. She spent four years in Kansas, but couldn't lie about her age forever. She was going to sixteen for her life. She moved around after that, different states, different names.

And now, here she was. Debbie Andrews. Working behind a cubicle.

Claire let her head fall into her hands, and she sighed. She had to admit it, she missed the exciting, dramatic life she used to live. But she knew she could never go back to it.

The rest of the day went by slowly, but, sure enough, the clock on her computer changed to four, and Claire got up off her desk and towards her bosses door. She knocked quietly.

"Come in, Debbie." She heard from behind the door, and she opened it quickly.

"Hey," she smiled, "I just came to quickly drop this off, then I'm going home." She handed the paper in his hand, and turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand.

"Debbie, there's no rush. Come and talk to me for a little." He grinned, pulling her onto his lap. She froze.

"No, Dave, I really should go." She tried to push herself off his lap, but his large arm snaked around her waist.

"No, I don't think you should." He whispered in her ear, as his hands slithered down to pull up her shirt.

"David, stop. Stop, your hurting me." She lied. Maybe this guy had some kindness in him left. He didn't budge. He kissed her neck, and she squirmed under his grasp. She opened her mouth to scream, but quickly pushed his hand over her lips. Mumbles tried to escape her lips as he whispered in her ear, horrible, sweet nothings. In her mind, she begged for someone to save her. His hands went go undo her bra. Suddenly, his hands weren't pressed on her, and she could move freely. Something controlled her suddenly, and she was pushed off his lap.

And then, a scream.

She turned around, to find David's throat slit, lying, broken on the ground. Claire gasped, and looked up to the shadow in front of her. A familiar face stepped out. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Hello, Claire."

Claire gasped, and narrowed her eyes.

"Sylar." She gasped, trying to push herself up. He reached out his hand to help. She didn't bother taking it. He shrugged, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Debbie, huh? Seems a little '80s to me." He smiled, picking up a snow globe off the dead mans desk.

"Why the hell are you here?" She spat, fishing for her top. She put it on quickly. He raised an eyebrow.

"If I wasn't, you would have been used and broken on the floor of your boss's office. Should I apologize?" Claire barley mumbled a thanks, before Sylar grabbed her, and pulled her into a hug. "I've missed you Claire. I didn't think you could get along fine by yourself."

She pushed him off, and scowled.

"I've been doing better then fine, I've been doing great." She said, moving to the window. She stared out the Los Angeles skyline. Sylar stood beside her. "Where have you been? What happened to forever?" She smirked sarcastically. Sylar scoffed.

"I've been waiting for the right time. You needed time, Claire. I understood that. I knew if I helped you with the popularity problem, you could take some time." He nodded to himself, not surprised by Claire's look.

"That was you?" She managed to choke out, and she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it sooner.

"Of course it was. Who else did you think it was, Parkman?" He chuckled. He snaked an arm around her. She stayed frozen.

"I should kill you right now. After all you've done." She whispered. He didn't smile.

"You should. But you won't."

And he was right. For now, she just leaned into him and sighed. He smelt like the past, and it brought back mixed feelings.

"I almost missed you. Almost." She sighed, looking up at him. He frowned.

"Claire, I wasn't going to come this soon. But something's come up." He looked down at her, then back at the skyline. "It's Peter. He's gone," he paused, "sour. And we need to stop him." Her uncle's name brought her back to reality.

"Peter? What happened?"

"He's bitter, Claire. Bitter we never got appreciated. And he plans on doing something about it. Something bad." Claire didn't have to ask who "we" was. People with powers. The past again. She barley nodded.

"We should get out of here." Sylar made a look of agreement, took a hold of her, and flew out the window into the sunset sky.