The sun beat down on the empty beach, warming the sweet, cool wind that was carried on the backs of the waves that caressed the shore. Clair sighed and stretched on her lounge chair, reaching up to sling one arm up and over the head rest as the wind played with her long blonde hair. She didn't care that this was just a dream; it was one of her favourites.
In the days, months and years following the Ferris wheel, she'd stayed away from California, stayed away from her mom and Lyle, and she admitted that she missed it. The press had gone after her family, big time, but when a camera crew accidentally injured her brother in an attempt to get him to manifest powers live on air Sandra Bennet and her son had got a restraining order and moved to a gated community. Clair still kept in touch, but it was hard on all of them. Lyle was middle aged now, Sandra was in her seventies, and Clair... She shifted on the lounge chair and looked down at her bikini clad body in the dream. It reflected her real one – she didn't look a day over twenty five, even though she had to be pushing forty. She adjusted her sunglasses and sighed. She didn't celebrate birthdays any more, they seemed pointless. Why bother? If Suresh had been right, she'd live for centuries, and there was only so many candles a cake could hold.
Clair shook her head and dismissed her dismal thoughts. She was asleep; why couldn't she let the world go?
"Because you still care about it." Clair lunged up from the chair with a squeal of shock and spun, looking around. "Hello Clair. Miss me?" Standing in the sand not five paces away, looking pale and tousled, stood Sylar.
"You're not really here," she blurted. "This is my dream. Go away."
"Why?" Even in the brilliantly sun splashed dream world, even with his white, white skin, Gabriel Grey was dark, from the neat black pants and shirt to his black hair and deep brown eyes. "You said it yourself. This is just a dream."
"But it's my dream. I don't want you here."
"Oh, Clair," he sighed as he stepped closer and extended a hand towards her. "I thought we'd gotten past this, you and I. I thought... I thought you didn't hate me any more." Clair matched his movement and stepped back as he tried to approach. "I thought..." Clair found herself shaking her head.
"I... I don't hate you, Sylar." Those brown eyes closed, but not before Clair was surprised by the pain and shock in them.
"But your choice of a name for me, that tells me more than anything. You're still afraid of me. After everything, you're still afraid." One long fingered hand lifted to cover his eyes, and Clair's surprise went up a notch as she watched tears glisten on his pale skin. "After all these years, you still see the monster."
"I'm sorry," Clair found herself saying. A harsh bark of laughter interrupted her.
"You're apologising to me?" Sylar laughed again, a horrible sound filled with pain. "After what I did to you, you say you're sorry?" He shook his head and dashed away the tears. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come here."
"Why did you come? For that matter, how?"
"Oh. I, uh, met someone in Iceland. Nice lady – I mean, you would have liked her." Sylar swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Her ability was to enter other's dreams, but she'd gotten trapped and her body was dying. I... I fixed it, her, I mean." He swallowed again, and Clair saw the slash of pain return. "I couldn't save her, but she got to say goodbye to her family before..." He shook his head.
"You absorbed her power to fix her, didn't you?" Clair found a wry smile curling her lips. "At least you didn't kill her."
"I don't do that any more, Clair. You know that."
"Yeah," she acknowledged. "I know." They stood in the sunlight for a few moments, studying each other, brown eyes locked with green. Finally Clair gave in and returned to her chair, arranging herself comfortably. "You may as well tell me why you're here." Sylar tilted his head, and a breath later another lounge chair was resting on the sand beside hers.
"I'm lonely," he admitted as he sat down. "My job... Did Noah tell you, before he..?"
"Was killed? Yeah, he told me what you'd be doing, what the US government was paying you to do."
"You know he trained me how to take an ability completely, without hurting or killing?" Sylar smiled, and Clair was struck by the simple joy in his expression. "So now I go after the specials that are hurting people with their abilities and just... take them."
"Then they get locked up."
"After a fair trial and due process, Clair. And it's only the ones that have killed people that I strip of their powers." He shook his head and that smile came back. "And did you know Noah showed me how to give a power back after I've taken it to fix someone? Oh, and, I've never tried it, but I think I can give a power to someone who never had it in the first place. Make someone normal into someone special."
"What?" Clair felt like she'd been punched. "You can what?"
"Calm down. I'm not stupid; you're the only one I've ever told. They may pay me, but I don't trust politicians or the government as far as I can throw them."
Clair surprised herself by laughing. "And that's pretty far." Sylar laughed too.
"I suppose it is." He ran his fingers through his hair and slumped in the chair. "I went through dozens of partners on the job. No one can deal with the reality of what I do. I'm surrounded by people each and every day, and I'm so alone." Sylar closed his eyes again.
"Me, too," Clair acknowledged. "After the Ferris wheel, most of the specials hate me for revealing them. Lyle and mom are getting old and dying, dad's dead – both my dads. Peter left with Hiro twelve years ago and everyone thinks they're dead, too. Angela, Mohinder, both Matts... They're all dead or dying and I just keep going on and on and on!" Tears welled, then slid down her cheeks. "Everyone just leaves me!" A warm hand was pressed her knee and she looked up to see a blurry Sylar with an expression of compassion on his face. There was a moment when their eyes locked, and then she was in his arms, her face pressed again the black cotton that covered his chest as she cried. He rocked her gently, petting her blonde hair and making soothing noises.
When her howling sobs had turned to sniffles, Sylar shifted, and Clair managed to make out that he was offering her a handkerchief. That surprised a watery laugh from her as she accepted it and wiped her face and blew her nose. How did I end up sobbing into Sylar's chest? Clair wondered. I'm scared of him – so why am I letting him comfort me? He was sharing her narrow lounge chair now, and she was very aware of every place their bodies touched as she looked at the handkerchief, wondering what to do. Sylar placed a finger under her chin and lifted it, so that they were once more eye to eye.
"I came to make you an offer, Clair. Do you want me to take it away?" There was no need for him to explain what 'it' was. "You can have a normal life – and in time, you'll age and die like everyone else." A smile twisted his full lips as he corrected himself. "Like everyone else normal."
"Everyone not special."
"Yeah." He tilted his head, and his brown eyes bored into hers. "I owe you this, Clair." Sylar gave a derisive snort. "I owe you so much more, but if you want me to, I'll take it." Unable to sit still, Clair slid from the chair and began to pace the warm, golden sand. "Clair?" She held up her hand to stop him.
"I'm thinking, okay?" How many times had she wished and prayed to be just like everyone else? To be normal? And yet... "I can't. It's who I am. I can't give my ability up. Even though it sucks some times." She found herself back in Sylars' arms, squeaking as he lifted her, hugged her hard and spun her in a circle.
"I knew it!" he crowed happily, spinning them again. "I always knew how special you were!" Slightly dizzy, Clair met his eyes and shared his grin, and in that moment, she let it go. Yes, Sylar had hurt her, scared her, tormented her. But it wasn't Sylar smiling down at her, eyes shining with approval and joy. Sylar was dead, and it was time to move on.
"Can you please put me down?"
"Oh, sorry," he replied sheepishly, lowering her to the sand. "I think I got a little carried away." Hesitantly, Clair lifted a hand to his pale face. Then, gathering her courage, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek swiftly.
"Thanks for the offer, though... Gabriel." Emotions swirled in his eyes before he stepped back, capturing her hand and lifting it to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers.
"You're welcome, Clair," he murmured. "I should go." She smiled at him again.
"You can come back whenever you like, you know. Then maybe we can both stop being lonely." She swallowed, and added softly, "Or you could come find me in the real world." A brilliant smile bloomed on his face.
"Thanks." A heartbeat later he vanished, and Clair was alone with the sunshine, sand and surf.