Five Years Gone Universe, a month after the explosion in Kirby Plaza

Somewhere in Los Angeles...

Urgh, Claire thought to herself as she glanced up at the old, outdated television screen. Nathan was on again. It made her so angry. He had just... Sat there and let New York explode. Letting hundreds die. And now he was on the way to becoming president? She shook her head. That was wrong.

She absentmindedly flicked the kettle on, wiping up maple syrup from the table in front of her. She brushed her blonde locks away from her eyes, trying not to focus on Nathan's obnoxiously loud voice that screamed through the cafe. She was pretty happy with her job. Compared to other jobs, she really did have it pretty good. Not that it paid millions or something, but it was just enough for her rent. Just.

Her thoughts drifted to her dad. Her real one. Noah. He said he'd come see her in a while, but they both knew it wasn't true. He wasn't going to risk anything by coming near her too soon. Or ever. A tear slipped free of her eye, and she quickly wiped it away.

She hated this whole thing. Ever since Nathan had won that stupid election, everything had become so complicated. Specials were getting tagged left, right and center and there was nothing anyone could do about it. And the worst part was, the election was a lie. He and Angela had orchestrated the explosion, killing millions, so that he could be president. It made her so angry...

She turned towards the door, swiping at her face. A dark haired man with an unmistakable smirk on his face walked in. She stared at him, wondering if she'd seen him somewhere before. He looked so familiar...

"Like what you see?" His voice snapped her out of her daze, and with a jolt she realised she'd been staring. Her face turned a bright red.

"Urm..Uh.." She stuttered, trying to think of something to say. His smirk grew wider.

"I'll have the coffee, thanks." He leaned back in his seat, cocking his head to the side and giving her an obvious once-over. Claire's face grew hot.

"Right, I'll just go get the coffee then!" She turned on her heels and high-tailed it to the kitchen as fast as she possibly could.

Sylar watched her with amusement. This was going to be fun...

Claire returned with the coffee almost seconds later. "Urm, that will be 3.35." She didn't know why she was so tongue-tied. She'd been around guys before. Jocks, nerds... The guy in front of her definitely wasn't a nerd or a jock though... He was tall, and has these really beautiful brown eyes. His face was stubbled slightly, and she had the strangest urge to see how that would feel under her lips. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts from her head.

The guy seemed to read the thoughts in her head, his smirk seemingly growing wider. She lowered her eyes at his gaze, which seemed to burn right through her soul. "And the Petrelli wonderboy does it again!"

She cursed to herself as Nathan's voice came on. She was tired of hearing about him. In a fit of anger, she grabbed an apple from a nearby table and flung it up at the screen. She hit it, and it rattled, shaking from the impact. The apple bounced off the screen to the floor, bruised and battered. She breathed heavily, trying to get a hold of herself.

"Well, I'm guessing you didn't vote for him, then." A calm, deep voice said from behind her. She turned towards the dark-haired man once more. Thank god there was no one else here, she'd get fired for sure..

"Well..." She huffed, grabbing a cloth from the table and mopping at an imaginary spill on the table. She felt a hand cover her own. She looked up carefully, his deep brown eyes making her heart pound. "I'm sorry..." She chuckled bitterly, pulling her hand away and pushing her hair away from her face. "I don't even know your name." His eyes flashed with something familiar and ultimately compelling.

"Gabriel." He smirked, reclining in his seat. "Gabriel Gray."

"Nice to meet you Gabriel." She held out a hand for him to shake. "I'm..." He cut her off, taking her hand a shaking it, grinning.

"You're Claire." He gestured to her nametag, dropping her hand and Claire immediately felt the loss as the cold air stung her palm. She shivered. She had always hated winter.

"Yup, that's me. Claire." She muttered, grabbing her cloth and turning away from him and wiping over a table that was covered in apple crumble pie; she didn't even want to know where that red sticky thing came from.

Sylar regarded her closely. She was... Different. Special. He could feel it, thrumming beneath all that blonde hair. She would live. Even after he got her power. Both of them would be immortal. Living together until the sun burned up and melted against the sky. Interesting. He sipped his coffee as he watched her clean out ugly black coffee stains from a table in front of him. He took in the way the gentle slope of her waist, and when she turned slightly so he could see her eyes, the cyan blue that intermixed with the emerald of her irises. Fascinating.

She smiled softly to herself as she mopped up a brownish-black coffee spill. She could feel his eyes on her. He was at least a couple of years older than her, she knew, and her mom would never approve of him. But... She liked him. Maybe even like liked him. He wasn't cute, more dark and dangerous, a combo that she liked very much. And she liked his smugness, just slightly. It worked for him.

Sylar grinned as he read the thoughts in her head. He really liked this ability. It was fun. And more than slightly amusing, to think that this girl had spent more than a year running away from him, now thought he was attractive. This opened up a whole new realm of possibilities.

He got to his feet, slapping her tip on the table. "Nice to meet you, Claire."

Claire stared at his retreating back as he moved toward the door, realizing that this had been the closest to forgetting about Nathan she had come to since she'd found out about him.

"Wait!" She called out after him, the words tumbling out before she had time to proof-read them. He turned to face her slowly, his face an unreadable mask. "Do you want to urm..." A little smile was playing on his face now.

"Yes?"

She forced herself to finish the sentence. "Do you want to do something later? After my shift finishes? Like at 5?" She bit out that prize-winning cheerleader grin that Jackie had taught her when she had first become a cheerleader, trying hard to cover up the trembling fear of being rejected.

His seemingly natural smirk returned full force. "I'll meet you here."

Claire couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on her face as the door clanged shut, leaving her alone. She whooped and spun around, dancing alone in the empty coffee shop. Her first date since Brody... Hopefully it went better with him. She grinned, laughing. Yes. Things were looking up.

Sylar was unsure of this turn of events. He walked down the street away from the diner, considering the newfound possibilities. He now knew that Claire was going to live, even after he took her power. Which meant that he and her would roam the earth until the end of time. Possibly, the only two to do so. Which left him... Where exactly? This date... She had given him a direct opportunity to get her power for good. But... Once he did this, he would have burnt a bridge that would be oh-so-hard to rebuild. He wasn't delusional, he knew that he had to have some form of companion in his life. He had, briefly, enjoyed Elle's company when she'd turned up again. Until she found out that she was a manipulative bitch, if there ever was one. And since she'd been gone(dead), he had to admit.. He was lonely. He needed someone.

It was strange, that this anxiety, this fear at the thought of being alone had started in another diner with coincidentally, another waitress. A red-head, Charlie who could remember every single thing she ever read. He had taken one look at her and he could see it; the blood clot in her brain that was building. Like a clock ticking out of synch.

Then that Japanese guy had shown up. He was absolutely infuriating, and Sylar had been slightly humbled by his lack of power over the man, who stood at least a foot under him. He had offered him a trade; to help Charlie, and in return he would tell him about his future. He had expected glory, and sure enough, the Japanese man had told him that he would become powerful, the most powerful of them all... But. It came with a downside.

You'll become strong, the strongest of them all. But in the end, it won't make any difference. We all gather to stop you. You're alone. No one will mourn your death. No one will shed a tear. No one.

I will tell you how you die. You die alone. I'm sorry.

It frustrated him. He was afraid. He didn't want to die alone. A small part of him wanted, craved, love and acceptance. He needed it. He fisted his hands in frustration and a streetlamp nearby shattered. His pace increased speed. He was almost at the end of the block.

Claire was... Claire was his answer, his evolutionary imperative. And she would live forever... She could be his someone. But that was ridiculous. She was the prey, he was the predator. A forbidden fruit. Two worlds apart, and sworn enemies. Then he remembered the thoughts in her head, the way she'd smiled at him. She didn't know who he was. A slow, sly smile grew on his face. He could always charm her, get her to trust him, love him, before taking her power... It had definitely worked on that Maya girl... And Claire would forgive him, he was sure of it. She had that kind of feel about her, like the little girl who always waiting up for her father until 12 am on her birthday, simply because he promised her he'd be home. He had seen it, in her mind. Loads of disappointment, hurt, love, pain... And if she had forgiven her father for all the things he had seen, she'd without a doubt forgive him. They had all the time in the world anyway.

And as for if he liked her... She was beautiful, quite honestly, and if he had a type, forbidden fruit would be it. She didn't seem like a complete airhead either, despite the hair colour. This could work. And of course if he really didn't like her, he was sure that there was some way around her power. Besides, he thought, smirking, he was always up for an adventure.

Plan in mind, cogs turning at a furious speed, he glanced down at the cracked frame of his watch, admiring it minutely. It was 4.49. He turned on his heel, making his way back in the diner. He had to pick up his evolutionary imperative.

xxxxxx

17 months later...

"Claire..." He whispered into her ear, and she groaned as his hands moved down her body.

"We really shouldn't leave the dishes in the sink.." She protested weakly as he straddled her, pushing her back against the sofa. He leaned down and kissed her deeply.

"Gabriel..." She pleaded as his mouth moved down her neck. "Come on."

"Claire.." He whined. "You know I hate doing the dishes."

"You are such a child." She laughed, then abruptly stopped as he sucked at her neck, sighing, her eyes closing.

"But you love me." He whispered in her ear, his voice suddenly low and husky. It was unfair, how he could go from whiny and adorable to sexy and sinful in a blink of an eye, Claire thought as his mouth continued her torture.

"I do." She whispered. She pushed him back abruptly, her mouth fighting back against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He groaned and she chuckled against his neck.

"I think living with me has corrupted you." He forced out as she licked a trail down his neck and playfully bit on his ear.

"And that's a bad thing?" She gasped as his arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air as he stood.

"Who said that?" He kissed her deeply, before leaning back. "I never said that."

He whisked her away into the bedroom, letting the door slam behind them.

xxxxxxx

Sylar woke to the sound of Claire's even breathing beside him. He sighed and nuzzled closer to her, breathing in her scent. In a strange way, it always seemed to calm him down, especially after one of those nightmares. He'd always wake up halfway through them, after he'd stuck the knife in Virginia's chest, the blood pouring from his hands seeming to drown him.

Oddly, Claire had been appearing in them recently. He shuddered as he remembered the most recent one. He'd just finished killing Virginia when Claire would enter, her eyes wide and teary. "Gabriel?" She'd asked, her voice shaking.

A bloody line drew itself across her forehead and she sank back against the wall, tears falling from her eyes. "No." He'd stepped closer to her. "Sylar."

And then her eyes would go dead and he'd run toward her, shaking her, but she didn't heal, and then he'd sit there for hours as her blood pooled around them and her voice would echo in his ears.

"Gabriel.."

He cursed under his breath and hugged her tighter against his body, before pushing her away and sitting up. She didn't wake, just snorted and rolled over. A small smile tugged at his lips. She could sleep through almost anything.

He cursed again, getting to his feet. It hadn't really been part of the plan. Sure, yeah, they were supposed to live happily ever after and he'd take her power and she'd forgive him and all that.. But he hadn't expected to care this much about her. He knew all these things about her, what she liked for breakfast, what her favourite colour was... All that rudimentary stuff... Ordinary.

Except it was never ordinary with her. She made things like loving toast with eggs(benedict) and strawberry milk exciting, and absolutely adoring the colour blue seem unusual. Special. And somehow, even though the whole reason he'd been after her was her power, and he was sure she was to attached to him not to forgive him if he did decide to take it now, he didn't want to.

He didn't want to watch the expression on her face when she realised who he was, didn't want to watch her heart break and fumble to heal in front of his eyes. He didn't want to see the disappointment, the hurt, the tears. He didn't want any of it, but his fingers twitched at the thought of her power. His eyes closed momentarily at the thought of feeling it running through his veins, understanding how it worked. He breathed in and turned back to the bed, jumping on it and stretching his arms. He listened; Claire didn't stir. He rolled over to face her, wrapping an arm around her stomach and pulling her into him. At least this would keep the nightmares away for a while.

xxxxxxxx

Claire yawned, stretching out her arms and trying to shake away the morning stiffness in her bones. She could smell the toast here, and blindly she stumbled to her feet, wrapping the sheet around her body and following her nose.

Gabriel was standing in her kitchen, setting her eggs benedict down on her toast.

"Eggs." If Claire was able to focus on anything but the rumbling in her stomach, she might have noticed that he wasn't wearing anything but a towel. And that his hair was wet from the shower. But no, as Sylar had long figured out, Claire wasn't able to focus on anything in the morning at all, except eating and hitting the snooze button on his alarm clock with more force than strictly necessary. It was pretty adorable actually.

"Here." He said bemusedly, setting her plate down in front of her and sliding the strawberry milk over to her.

He sipped at his coffee, patiently waiting until she finished eating. This was the best part; she blinked, shook her head and stared at him, like she'd only just realised he was there.

"Good morning." She greets, smiling. And then he watches her eyes take in his state of dress. He watches as her breath catches in her throat and a smile tug at her lips. And then he doesn't watch anymore, because his eyes close as he kisses her, slow and deep.

"Good morning." He whispers, opening his eyes and watching her blue-green ones sparkle and her lips stretch into a huge smile. And even though this happens almost every Saturday morning, it's still one of most special things in the world to him. And that's the moment that he realises he's in love with her. And that if he's going to break her heart, he's going to have to do it soon before he doesn't have the heart to anymore.

xxxxxxxxx

It was a week later when she got the call from Angela.

She hadn't said anything, just announced tightly that she'd be arriving in a week, and that she would like to speak to Claire alone. Partly, Claire wanted to tell her to go to hell, but she decided against it. She might bring news about Na-Peter. She doesn't care about Nathan anymore. Nope. Not at all.

As it happened, Gabriel was going out that afternoon anyway, so it wasn't like she had to kick him out of the apartment. She wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him about everything that had happened, wanted to tell him about her powers and Peter and Nathan and Noah... And she would. A guilty ache tugged at her heart. She just wasn't sure when.

What was a good way, she wondered, while waiting for Angela to arrive, to announce that she could regrow her toes (yes, she had tried) and that her family had been directly involved with the blowing up of New York? How does one start that conversation?

A knock at the door saved her from having to answer the question that was swirling in her head. She didn't want to think about this anymore. She could imagine the look of disgust on his face, and now, even Angela seemed like a good distraction. She yanked open the door, unsure what she'd see or hear.

"Hello, dear."

xxxxxxxx

Angela walked through the threshold of the... Quaint apartment. She eyed it critically, not in anyway oblivious to the lack of photos on the walls except for a single, framed photo of Claire and... She sucked in her breath. Yes. Her dreams had been accurate.

"Why are you here, Angela?" Claire's voice was more steely than she remembered. The last time she'd seen the girl, she had been screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs. Her lips stretched into a thin smile. What happy memories they have.

"Sylar has been spotted. Here." Claire's breath caught. She can see the girl's throat move as she gulps, the fear evident in her eyes.

"I haven't seen him." Claire clears her throat, willing herself not to look scared.

"And how would you know, dear?" Angela remarked dryly. "You never saw him. Which is why," She pulled the photo out of her bag, "I brought you a picture."

She knows that seeing it will hurt, but she's almost sure he's going to hurt her more. It's better that she knows anyway.

"This is Gabriel." Her voice is a whisper, hoarse and ghostly. "There's been a mistake."

"Gabriel?" Angela's eyebrows arch. "Gabriel Gray?" When Claire nods, she forces a grim smile. "Gabriel Gray is Sylar." She pretends she hasn't seen, hasn't seen what's been going on. It's easier for both of them that way.

"I said," Claire pushed the photo back at Angela firmly, but she can see her hands shaking from here, "there's been a mistake." Claire swallowed. "Gabriel would never..."

"Maybe he wouldn't, but Sylar would." A voice, dark and husky, runs through the room. Gabriel's arms encircle Claire's waist and she gasps as she watches Angela freeze rigidly in front of her. He drops a kiss on her neck, and lets his arms travel down her body, stopping at her waist.

"Gabriel." Angela's condescending tone makes his hands squeeze hard at her hips and she holds back a sob. Everything is coming crashing down around her again and it's hurting more than that day on the highway with Noah and the Haitian. She wants it to stop. She wants to wake up with Gabriel holding her tightly in their bed on a Saturday morning.

"Well, Claire," He drawls into her ear, sounding so far off from the Gabriel she knows that she can almost force herself to believe it's not him. "We can't always get what we want." His cool gaze moves to Angela, who gulps audibly. All Claire can wonder is for how long exactly Gabriel's been reading her mind.

"And Angela, you know not to make me upset. It's hardly healthy." Angela chokes, and Claire tenses. "Only Claire, because she's so very special," his tone drips with malice, "is allowed to call me that." Claire shudders, and he's not sure if it's disgust or the fact that his mouth is brushing against her ear. He releases her hips and pushes her away from him, watching her as she turns around slowly. This is the last time he's going to be able to look in her eyes for a while, and he needs to see how she's looking at him.

"Why?" She sounds so broken, and the tears are already dripping down her cheeks. "Why didn't you just take my power? Why did you have to," She stops, brushes her hand across her face, "Why did you have to do this to me?" Her voice is angry now.

"Because Claire," both of them have forgotten about Angela, still frozen in place by his telekinesis, "I need someone." His voice is low, and she can't help but close her eyes as he brushes a finger down her cheek, stopping at her collarbone. She can feel his breath on her face, and almost as if compelled, her head tilts upwards toward his. He smirks, his fingers tangling in her hair too roughly for him to be Gabriel, but she's entranced by his words as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against hers. "I don't want to be alone." His voice is lower now, more predatory, but Claire feels like she's being pulled to him by this imaginary force. He's still Gabriel, a voice in her head tells her, and as hard as she tries to pull it out of her head, tell herself that this is wrong, but she can't. He can't possibly have been pretending all that time, it's just not possible, a small voice in the back of her head pleads, and Claire has to agree. It's not possible.

"I never said I was pretending, Claire." His voice still sends shivers down her spine. "I am that man I was with you, just a little more..." He pulls her head backwards with her hair, "sinister, maybe." His lips crash down on hers and her toes curl and there's still fireworks behind her eyes. Her hands automatically tangle in his hair and she kisses him back for all it's worth. She's kissing Gabriel, she insists, but they both know that Gabriel is a part of Sylar, and Sylar is a part of Gabriel. And somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she's fallen in love with Sylar as well.

He pulls away from hers, and she sees his eyes. They hold something more than greed, which she had convinced herself was the only emotion Sylar had. He looks like he's as torn and broken as she is. He whispers something in her ear, and disappears, right in front of her eyes. Angela falls to the ground, gasping for breath. An act of mercy.

She's fallen in love with the devil and the angel at the same time. She doesn't want to, but his last words are replaying again and again in her head.

"I'll be seeing you, Claire."

Special credits go to julyisfree, for helping me with this, THANK YOU.

There should be another one-shot coming up soon to accompany this, as well as a one-shot from the Fighting With Fire-verse which I AM working on. I hope you liked this and PLEASE *gives puppy dog eyes* pleasepleaseplease review if you can!;)