Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Heroes or any affiliated franchise. If I did, there would have been a fifth season.

This story is a continuation from 'Sweet Dreams' so everything is post season four.

Vicious Circles

Chapter One

Sylar walked into the darkened apartment and didn't even bother to turn the light on. He stumbled through the kitchen area and into the barren bedroom, crashing face first onto the air mattress.

"Tell me you want me."

He had barely closed his eyes and her voice was there to greet him. Night after night she came to him, refusing to let him rest in some of the most unique and inappropriate ways.

The alarm started bleeping.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sylar punched his imaginary pillow. He rolled over and stared at the water stain on the ceiling. His company phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and squinted at the flashing caller ID. It was his partner. He held it out for a moment, trying to decide whether to answer or roll back over and sleep.

He chose sleep.

The quick successive wraps at his door had other ideas though. Sylar groaned and rubbed his eyes before getting up. He shot the still bleeping alarm clock with a zap of blue electricity on his way out of the room.

"You're wearing the same suit twice?" The slender blonde pushed her way past Sylar and flipped on the kitchen light, setting a cup of coffee and a stack of papers on the rickety table. Sylar rolled his eyes and banged his forehead against the door frame a few times before slamming it shut.

"We're scheduled to be in briefing in thirty." She eyed him up and down with a distasteful look. "You should probably get ready. I want to be there early."

Charisma Jones was her name. Sylar had originally thought she was quite beautiful when they first met. And then she started speaking. Now he was just sure that her parents had made a joke when they named her. She was obnoxious, pushy, and overly literal. Most importantly, she hated his guts and the feeling was mutual.

He shuffled his way to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush. Naturally the toothpaste tube was empty, not even a smear to spare.

"You should really look into getting some furniture. One day you might actually get a non-work related guest," she called to him from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," he muttered to himself. He splashed some cold water on his face and watched it drip off in the cracked mirror.

"Tick tock, Agent Gray. Tick tock."

He couldn't help but think of what a great day it would be to slip off the wagon and cut her head open. To bad she didn't have any abilities other than her spectacular talent for getting on his nerves.

"You should consider shaving one of these days," she smirked at him as he walked back to where she was standing.

"No, I don't want to leave a message. I've already left I don't even know how many messages for him. You tell Peter that if he doesn't call me back today I'm going drive over there and shove my foot -"

The phone went dead.

"She just hung up on me. I can't believe she just hung up on me."

"You were getting a little pushy there, Claire Bear." Noah held the door open for his daughter and they walked into a small auditorium.

"These hours are ridiculous though. The first response team either needs to be expanded or be reserved for more serious cases. "

Claire's partner waved to them from the second row with a big grin.

"How does he always get here so early?" She flashed him a grin as they sat down.

"I grabbed you your favorite," he said handing over a mocha latte and jelly swirl to Claire.

"You remembered."

"And a standard black coffee for you, Mr. Bennett."

"Thank you, Chris. You're a good man."

Claire couldn't have asked for a better partner. Chris McKinley had arrived two weeks prior to replace her former partner after a work related injury. He may have been infallible as far the job was concerned. He was everything a girl should want, handsome, intelligent, funny and always happy to see her. And yet, even though he had shown quite the personal interest in her, there was no spark to be had. They worked well together but their chemistry could have been dead air space for Claire.

"Alright people, let's get down to business here," a gruff older man said stepping up to the podium. A picture appeared behind him on the projection screen.

"This is your target. His name is Donald Kingsly. He is a mentalist. He will get into your head and make you think things that are not true." The speaker stopped, looking up as two more agents came into the auditorium.

"So glad you could make it Jones and Gray. May we have your permission to continue?"

Charisma tried to hide her face in shame as she quickly found the first seat available in the front row. Sylar shuffled along behind, looking absolutely exhausted.

Claire felt a knot grow in her stomach as he sat down next to his partner in the seat directly in front of her.

"Now, as I was saying," the gruff man continued. "Kingsly is considered to be highly dangerous. He's wanted for over a dozen cases of investment fraud." The man stopped speaking again, this time looking down at the front row. Sylar was slumped over, asleep in his chair.

"Agent Gray, would you mind joining the land of the living long enough to find out why you're here?"

Claire watched as Charisma gave him a harsh elbow to the ribs. He sat straight up with a sharp snort that made a few other people in the audience giggle quietly.

After the briefing was over Sylar walked past again, rubbing at his temples while his partner nagged him the entire way to the door.

"Wow, I am so glad you're not like that," Chris said with a chuckle.

Claire caught her father looking at her disapprovingly. He was never blind to the sideways glances.

"I'm going to go suit up. I'll meet you at the van in ten," she flickered a smile and walked away before Noah could say anything.

In the ladies' locker room Claire saw Charisma buckling her boots and practically felt her eyes scrape the back of her head as she rolled them.

"You are so lucky that you got Agent McKinley for your partner. I've put in several requests for a new one but it's almost like they're ignoring me."

"Sylar's not so bad," Claire muttered as she slipped into her regulation body armor and uniform.

"I swear one of these days he's going to get me killed with his laziness. And don't even get me started on his attitude."

"He's not lazy. He's exhausted. While you're sitting pretty behind the scenes and filling out your precious paperwork, he's out there in the 'zero zone' working his ass off to catch the bad guys." Claire snapped. She had never been able to stand Jones, or the sound of her voice, or the way she talked to Sylar, or anything about her really. She thought she knew it all but she didn't have a clue.

"Whatever," the other agent said with a sneer as she slammed her locker shut and stormed out.

"I still say that it's ridiculous that I have to wear all this. Who needs standard issue body armor when you're a human shield? This stuff must weigh twenty pounds. I can barely move."

"Yes, Claire. I've heard this argument before but you're still not getting out of it. The safety standards aren't in place just for you. Think of Chris for a moment. What if you get shot and go down. Even if it's just for a minute that leaves him completely exposed." Noah said hopping into the driver's seat of the black van. A little twinge of guilt accompanied that thought.

"Hey there, Claire Bear," Chris greeted her, opening the door and giving her hand in.

He had picked up on her dad's nickname for her early on and started using it himself. She didn't seem to have the heart to tell him that it only sounded annoying when it didn't come from her father.

Sylar was already in position in the van. He smirked as she took her place next to him. When the door was closed it was practically pitch black inside. She could feel him sitting beside her and hear his steady breathing.

"If you're going to block me you should pick something more interesting than a constant recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance."

"Get out of my head, Sylar."

Charisma made a throaty noise in the darkness that caught somewhere between an indignant snort and a sigh of boredom. Claire could imagine what her face would like, rolling her eyes at them. A quick flash of anger towards the obnoxious woman's presence made her think of how good it might feel to wrap her fingers around that throat and give it a good squeeze.

"I like the way you think," Sylar said darkly with a chuckle.

"Good morning, Mr. Petrelli," the voices of faceless paper pushers chimed at him as he walked by. The last six months had gone by in such a blur that he hadn't even had time to learn half of his staff's names. Even when he had been pulling double and triple shifts at the hospital he had never been this busy.

"Good morning, Mr. Petrelli," his assistant greeted with a smile as she followed him into his office. "You're booked solid all morning with administrative meetings and a press docket before lunch. Here are your messages," she said laying a stack of yellow slips on his desk as thick as a small phone book. "And sir, I really must insist that you take a few minutes to call Ms. Bennett back. She's getting a bit… vulgar."

"I already know what she wants," Peter said with a sigh as he examined the impossible mountain of paper work that covered every inch of his desk.

"Yes, sir. Is there anything I can get you?"

She was really a great assistant. Always punctual, efficient in her duties and ready for his every beck and call.

"What's your name?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Your name. What is it?"

"Caroline, sir." Peter slouched into his chair and put a hand on his chin, subconsciously supporting a heavy mind.

"Caroline, do you like your job here?"

"Yes, sir. I do very much. I know my part in these operations is small, but I feel like I'm doing my part to make a difference."

Peter sighed heavily. He knew that the work they were doing was important and that his assistant was absolutely right. They were making a great difference in the world. But all of the politics and bureaucracy that were necessary for it paled in comparison to the feeling he used to get being out there in world, physically saving lives and helping people.

"Thank you-," he was already stumbling for her name.

"Caroline."

"Yes, thank you, Caroline." The assistant hesitated for a moment and then decided that that must have been here queue to leave. As she exited the office her presence was immediately replaced with the mail cart.

"Package for you, Mr. Petrelli. Looks like something special today."

Peter mindlessly signed for the box and set it down on top of a rather unbalanced stack of papers. He thumbed through his stack of messages looking for the one that belonged to his niece figuring that he should return her call before his day started. He dialed the number to the company cell phone and let it ring as he opened the box. Inside was a musical snow globe with an inscription on it reading:

The son may rise but it also fades. Give peace to the war of the grateful dead.

"You've reached Claire Bennett's personal line. I am currently unavailable so please leave your name, number and message."

"Claire, we need to talk," Peter said examining the decoration, noting how the tiny figures inside looked an awful lot like himself lying ill on a bed with Claire at his side.

"Alright, Claire, you're taking point on this," Noah instructed as he drove the black van through the parking garage of their target's work place.

"And no guns," he said fervently as Charisma selected a P-83 from their arsenal. "You don't want to use anything potentially lethal when initially dealing with a mentalist like this guy."

"So we're hanging back again, Mr. B.?" Chris asked, finally losing a touch of his smile.

"Just until Claire and Sylar get the area secured."

Chris opened the door of the black van and Claire jumped out. Sylar followed close behind her, watching the way her hair bounced before she pulled her helmet on.

The regulation armor they were required to wear in the field made them look like some kind of black ops shock trooper. Which, maybe they were occasionally. The full body suit was bullet proof, fire resistant, radiation protective and had long lines of rubber stripping with metal wires running through it that acted as a grounding device should they face someone with the ability to manipulate electricity. The heavy insulation provided regulation for body temperature as well as offering sufficient padding around the trauma plates that would protect against hits of super strength. It even came equipped with a full range of sensors that constantly fed detailed information about their vitals back to the R&D department so that the effects of stress and combat could be studied.

And yet, they couldn't design a suit that didn't chafe where it mattered.

"How come you never let me call you Claire Bear?"

"Shut up, Sylar."

As the elevator closed behind him, Sylar took his off his gloves and shoved them into his pockets so that he could push the button for the floor they needed.

"Better not let your partner see you doing that. It's against regulation," Claire's mocking voice rang through the helmet's microphone system.

"Yeah, well they should have looked into the functionality of this stuff a little more before telling me to wear it. I don't appreciate shocking myself." Claire laughed a little remembering the first time he had tried to use his blue lightning ability with the gloves on.

"I think they probably did that on purpose. It was designed against you."

Sylar smirked thinking about the weeks they had spent months ago gathering data about all of his abilities. It had been one of the few fun experiments he had gotten to participate in. Spending hours inside a clean room being encouraged to torment people had certainly brought him pleasure.

The elevator opened and they stepped out onto a brightly lit office floor. People stared wide eyed as they marched past the rows of cubicles.

"Department of Safety and Regulation for Enhanced Citizens, ma'am," Claire said clumsily, flashing her badge at the secretary in front of the target's office. "We need to speak with Mr. Kingsly about some fraud charges."

"I wouldn't push that if I were you," Sylar said reading the woman's mind.

Silent alarm. Claire thought. He nodded in confirmation.

Always a little more fun when they've thought this through.

Sylar walked over to the set of double doors and touched a handle.

"He's in there alright. With a pastrami on rye."

Claire giggled a little. She always got a kick out of that power. She opened the door and walked into the room, ready for any attack that might be waiting.

Suresh walked over to his desk with a steaming cup of tea and glanced again at the readings he was getting across his computer screen. He often felt like he had gotten to know the first response team better than they knew themselves. With one look he could tell when they arrived on location, if any difficulties had occurred, or even if they sneezed inside the helmet. The blood samples he had worked with were precious as well but there was something to be said about the information feeds he got from their suits' sensors.

He had particularly become fascinated with the reactions that were caused by Sylar and Claire working together. You would never be able to tell that anything was amiss from just watching them alone, but when they went into action together they formed a fluctuating orchestra of adrenaline rushes, erratic heart beats and tense nerves across his charts.

Lately though he was becoming concerned with the information they provided. The effects of sleep deprivation and stress from their long hours had started to take a toll. They were virtually immortal and unable to become sick but they were not spared certain physical side effects.

"Mohinder, are you seeing this?" The lab tech spoke on another screen, sending a detailed scan of a subject's brain activity.

"Yes, I see it. Notice the levels of serotonin and histamine. It's almost like he's sleeping… Pull up a scan of Claire's and compare them."

"Look at the activity both in prefrontal cortex and the amygdala," the lab tech spoke almost in awe.

"That can't be good," Suresh said shaking his head in worry.

"Mr. Kingsly we're from the D.S.R.E.C. We need to talk to you… Mr. Kingsly?"

Claire looked around the empty room. There was no Kingsly waiting for her. There wasn't much of anything. There wasn't any furniture and the walls were blank. A thin layer of dust on the floor suggested to her that no one had even come into this room for at least a few weeks.

"Sylar, I thought you said," she started to say as she turned around to look for him. There was also no Sylar to be found. Or a door to exit through for that matter. Her mind instantly flashed to the last time something like this had happened.

Six months ago she and Sylar had lived through an alternate reality together. A young coma patient named Brandon Miller had nearly pulled the fabric of space and time apart around New York. He had made Sylar and Claire do and say terrible things each other. He had made them see things that weren't real and played with their heads through it. The duo had managed to successfully destroy the enemy, effectively reversing all that he had done and wiping the memories of those that he had infected with this insanity. But Claire, thinking that it must have been the new ability Sylar had given her, was the only one able to remember it all. Occasionally though she wondered if he knew something about the experience and just refused to admit it.

Claire took off her helmet and kicked at air in frustration.

"Crap."

"Hey there, Suresh. How's it going?" Noah said with a smile as Mohinder's face appeared on the screen of his lap top.

"We're getting some troubling readings here, Noah. Have Sylar or Claire reported in the last few minutes?"

"Hold on a second. I'll radio in to Claire and see what's happening." Noah picked up his head set.

"Claire? Can you read me?" Static was his only response.

"Sylar, can you hear me?" Again, nothing.

"Is he hurting her?" Noah addressed Mohinder again, anger flushing his cheeks at the thought. Regardless of how much Peter and Claire had both protested that he was redeemed somehow and could work safely along side them for the greater good, Noah had never been able to bring himself to trust Sylar. It was hard enough sending his daughter out into the field with him in the first place. If he ever hurt her…

"No. We can confirm that they're both… I'm not sure what the right word is. They're both under the effects of something though. My information says that they were being sent to track down a mentalist."

"Yeah, Kingsly. Swindled a bunch of people out of their investment accounts on the stock market."

"That must be what's going on then. He must have been able to push thoughts onto both of them," Mohinder paused seeing the worried look in Noah's eyes. "They're not being physically harmed. But we can see that they've been separated and they're afraid."

"Jones, McKinley, grab your stun guns. We're going in after them," he barked.

Sylar found himself in an empty room, alone.

"Claire?" He called into his helmet microphone. Static. He took off the head gear and paced around the room a few times before punching a wall. He listened intently for a moment and could hear someone breathing nearby.

"I know you're there," his voice echoed back to him. A floor board creaked near the single window facing the street. He threw his helmet in the direction of the sound. It bounced off the window sill and he could hear someone moving away.

"What did you do with her?" He called out into the blank space.

The breathing was closer now, moving behind him. Sylar was careful not to move or look around. He silently calculated where the target would be. A clicking sound, like a gun being cocked came from where the door should have been. In one swift movement he whirled around and sent a bolt of crackling electricity in the direction of the sound.

"They've both taken off their helmets. We're not receiving any more transmissions for brain activity but their vitals are still strong," Mohinder spoke over the headset.

"Alright, thanks Suresh. We'll stay in contact until we get Claire out."

"You mean both Claire and Sylar?"

Noah grunted in response to that and checked the clip in his pistol.

"What happened to not using anything lethal against a mentalist?" Charisma chided.

"Our two top agents have been incapacitated and the target has been cited as being extremely dangerous. Our goal is take him alive but my first priority is to get my daughter back."

The elevator opened and they stepped out onto the office floor. People were looking nervously at the agents as they walked by, their weapons drawn. They completely ignored the opposition of the secretary as Noah cocked his pistol and kicked open the door.

The gun discharged and Charisma let out a high pitched yelp as he fell to the floor and seized under the electrical charge from Sylar's hands. She panicked and dropped a charge from her stun gun into the dark man's chest. His armor protected him from the voltage and he pulled out the prongs and smacked her into the ceiling with his mind. Chris also fired his charge having almost as much success.

With both ability driven agents thoroughly confused and the others taken out of action Kingsly reappeared as he dashed out of the room and hit the elevator.

"Noah, something just happened. Sylar's exhibiting extreme signs of stress. Do not engage him! Noah, can you hear me?" Suresh's voice buzzed from where the headset lay a few feet away.

Noah, coming back to his senses looked up at Sylar holding the other two choking agents against the ceiling. His face had grown hard and his eyes were dead the way they had been before when the killer in him took over. A twisted sneer contorted his mouth.

"Where's Claire?" Noah shouted, springing to his feet and pointing his pistol at his nemesis's head.

Sylar seemed to snap out of it after hearing her name. He looked back into the room and dropped Jones and McKinley without the courtesy of breaking their fall. They both gasped for air and groaned as they rolled over. Claire still hadn't reappeared.

Sylar muttered profanities as he ran to the window. Looking down he could see Kingsly running across the street below.

"Sylar!" Noah yelled.

Sylar wasn't listening. He hurled himself out the window and plummeted to the walkway below, floating himself just a few feet before impact so that he landed in a crouched position. Noah ran to the window and watched as the man ran down his target and tackled him.

A few minutes later he reappeared in the elevator with a cuffed Kingsly. All of the agents had their weapons drawn on the man.

"Remember what I said. You bring her back and I won't shove your still beating heart down your throat."

Kingsly was clearly terrified. Something that certainly didn't hurt Noah's feelings. He walked back into the office and everything materialized again. Claire was sitting up against a wall fidgeting with a strand of hair.

Noah ran to her and picked her up in a big bear hug. Sylar stood by quietly, watching as Chris joined in on making sure she was okay. Charisma started to open her mouth and the look he gave her made her instantly close it again.

"Mr. Kingsly, you've been charged with twelve counts of fraud and two counts of assaulting a federal agent. We've already uncovered the evidence from your office and taken statements-"

I wonder if I can just walk out of here. I'll make them all think I'm still here talking to this stooge and just walk out. Maybe skip over the border…

"First things first," Matt leaned back in his chair and crossed him arms, "I am not a stooge. As far as you just 'walking out of here', that's not going to happen either. This is a secured facility filled with personnel trained to deal with people like you."

Damn mind readers.

Matt fought a smirk. They always thought that once they figured out who they were in the interrogation room with. "Now, you're going to give me a nice neat confession for the record so that I can go home and enjoy the evening with my wife and son."

Parkman had a bit of a skip to his step as he walked out of the interrogation room with a signed confession just in time to get home for dinner. Sylar was standing outside watching through the one-way glass.

Not bad, Matt. You almost look like a real cop in there.

Ha ha. You're so funny.

Matt still couldn't honestly tell himself that he liked Sylar. He couldn't even tell himself that he could begin to. They had spent to long a time sharing the same mind once. Despite that, they managed to get along in the interest of work.

So, I hear you attacked Noah and your partner today…

They shot me first.

Charisma Jones was an outstandingly beautiful blonde with the longest of legs. To bad she always had to open that mouth of hers. She began walking by and Matt's mind wondered for just a split second.

I saw that, Parkman. You dirty dog, you.

I'm beginning to understand why people find mind reader's so intrusive.

Mm, there's Gray. He looked so good when he chased that guy down today. And look at that shirt on him… I wonder if he's noticed my legs in this skirt yet….

Matt and Sylar just stared at each other with incredulous looks as the woman strolled by.

Did she just…?

Yeah. Yeah she did, man. I feel so sorry for you.

Matt let the smirk slip.

Getting home to Janice now. Have fun with that.

Sylar popped the door open with his telekinesis as one hand was holding a bag of take out Tai food and the other was full with his dry cleaning. He tripped over something in the dark kitchen area and let a few curses slip. The light switched on and he laid his things on the excuse for a table. Pulling the loose paper work out of his mouth and setting it aside, he picked up the brown box that had been left just inside the door.

Inside the box was a musical snow globe. It had an inscription reading:

Potentials unmet, connections to keep. You have many miles to go before you sleep.

Sylar closely scrutinized the miniature figure of himself inside the globe. He was knelt over, holding another model that looked suspiciously like Claire with a red line across her forehead.

He stepped just outside his apartment door and looked both ways down the hall hoping to find evidence of who had delivered the mysterious parcel.

To Be Continued…