Takes place after Brave New World

Chapter One: The Escape

The only thing Claire could think of when she woke up was how cold she was. The air was stale and damp and a chill seeped down into her bones until her teeth began to chatter incessantly. Her whole body felt like it weighed so much more than it really did. After a few moments, she managed to open her eyes. The walls were made of the same dark wood paneling you only saw in the basements of old houses. There was medical equipment pushed up against the walls. The same equipment you might find in a morgue.

Then...she remembered.

Claire closed her eyes, trying to wish herself somewhere else. Trying to forget the man in the welder's mask who held her there. He never showed his face. Never spoke or responded to her pleas. Her sense of time had completely vanished since being taken. Not a single window, clock, or sign of outside life resided anywhere. As far as she could tell, she'd been trapped there for a few weeks. Maybe a month?

The drugs he pumped through her body were strong enough to take down in elephant and strong enough to slow down her ability. Sometimes she would wake up in her cell, still covered in nearly healed cuts and bruises. She never woke up while he was dissecting her, but rarely she would come to while still in the dark paneled room, the same one she was in now, surrounded by the carnage left over from whatever he was trying to accomplish. This guy made Sylar look like the tooth fairy.

A wave of nausea hit her when her mind finally dusted off the last remaining cobwebs. Sylar was trapped there too. She just knew it. It started not long after she'd been taken. The man carted her off to her cell, a small room with no windows, no ventilation. Just a small mattress in the corner. There was no need for a bathroom. Claire hadn't eaten anything, nor was she given anything. Her body would continue to heal and replenish itself as much as it needed to for Claire to stay alive. She'd curled herself into the corner while she slept off the remaining drugs in her system, only to be startled awake by terrifying screams coming from down the hall that reverberated through the floor and up her spine. Claire had heard his carnal yell too many times to mistake him for someone else. She'd covered her ears and choked down sobs. Whatever drug the man in the mask had given her, he wasn't giving to Sylar.

And that's how she began counting days. Because every night their captor would lock her up in the cell, and every night the screams woke her up.

She shouldn't have jumped off that ferris wheel. At first, it wasn't so bad. Of course, the media had a field day with it. Videos of her fall popped up all over the internet. However, not long after her debut, the general populace decided it was an elaborate hoax. That is was all a ploy to get the media's attention for a quick fifteen minutes of fame. Then there were the weirdo stalkers who tried to sneak their way onto the campus. The school had to hire extra security and it made getting on and off campus a pain. Claire was unofficially persona on grata at school, as if her social status wasn't bad enough before hand.

A couple months had gone by and Claire no longer had to look over her shoulder every waking minute. In hindsight, she knew that she shouldn't have let down her guard. The last thing she could remember before being taken was leaving the quiet solitude of the library to walk to her dorm room. Then...

Blank. She couldn't remember anything beyond that. Claire had to admit that it would have been easy to snatch a special such as herself. She had no offensive abilities. Save for a mean right hook.

A tingling sensation ran through her arms and she gasped at the sensation. She looked up and saw that the IV bag attached to her arm was empty. She frowned and glanced at the open door. Was this a trick?

She willed her arms to move and miraculously, but sluggishly, they lifted off the cold metal table. Her legs, however, were still numb. The most she could manage was to wiggle her toes. She looked close around her, trying to find something metal, and preferably sharp. This could be her only chance to escape. A silver bowl sat on the roll away try next to her, but nothing else. Hoping there might be a scalpel sitting in it, she half dragged her arm to it, tipping the bowl and its contents towards her. Claire nearly gagged at the sight of blood and tissue that spilled out, along with what appeared to be a human heart.

Her heart, she realized.

That's what he was doing to them. They were just live stock, their organs probably being sold off to the highest bidder. She tried to control her erratic breathing. Tried to concentrate on anything other than the damp stench of her own blood.

*thud * She held her breath.

*clank * Something down the hall broke and snapped. She tried to move her legs again, but they still weren't cooperating. Quick, determined footsteps echoed down the hall, coming straight for the room she was in. Panic began to set in just as a dark figure stepped into the doorway. The person stepped into the room, and the bare light bulb hanging over Claire gave out just enough light for her to make out Sylar's face.

"S-Sy..." Her still-chattering teeth wouldn't let her finish his name. The man looked nothing like he did when she last saw him when Peter and the reformed serial killer helped her get away from the storm of cameras and reporters surrounding her. He looked the same way she felt. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes. His pale skin had taken on a grayish tone and his hair hung limply around his face. If she tried, Claire could probably count his ribs one by one the way they protruded from his thinning body. He darted over to her side to pull out the IV needle stuck in her arm, not quite looking at her. There were splatters of blood stained across one side of the scrub bottoms he was wearing.

"Can you walk?" Sylar asked her, his voice hoarse and deep. Claire shook her head. He slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back. She lifted her weak arms, holding onto his neck as tight as she could manage. It wasn't until she felt his skin against her that she realized she was completely naked. She didn't give it a second thought. This could be their only chance to escape. And if the man had managed to kidnap and hold someone as strong as Sylar hostage, then their chances of escape were slim. Modesty was not an option at the moment.

Sylar carried her out of the room and down the hall. He flung a door open with his powers to reveal wooden steps leading up into a sunlit kitchen.

"Close your eyes, Claire." His gravely voice reverberated from his chest and into hers. She didn't ask why. Didn't have to. The smell of blood permeated her senses once again. The only glimpse she had before closing her eyes and burying her face into his neck was a spray of blood coating the bright yellow wall of the kitchen. Similar to the same pattern it made on Sylar's pants.

He carried her through the kitchen and set her down on a worn out couch in what looked like a make shift living room. Her legs were slowly gaining the feeling back in them, just enough that she managed to sit up. Sylar darted up another set of stairs. She wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to ward off the pervasive chill and cover her exposed body. When he came back down the stairs, she saw that Sylar was wearing a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a t-shirt. He handed her a red flannel shirt and some sweat pants that, thankfully, had a draw string on them. He still wouldn't quite look at her and she realized he was trying to be courteous. He turned quickly around and began shuffling through the papers and empty take-out containers that littered the surfaces. Claire managed slide the pants on and was still trying to button the shirt when she heard keys jingling.

She managed to finished dressing herself while Sylar grabbed random stacks of documents. Claire followed him outside on shaky legs. There was a late model silver car in the gravel driveway and the house was surrounded by a wall of dense trees and underbrush.

Sylar opened the passenger door for her, his eyes darting wildly around, on the lookout for any other threat.

Claire didn't bother with a seat belt while they flew down the gravel road. She turned the heat as high as it would go and curled up the in the passenger seat.

"We'll find somewhere to stay for the night. Then...we'll figure out what to do from there."

Claire didn't bother replying or even nodding her head. Anything was better than what they had just escaped from. Her eyelids were getting heavy and her body was relaxing under the blast of the heat. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she would never wake up in hell again.

TBC - Chapter 2: In Hiding

Wrote this shortly after the finale, but it's been collecting dust on my computer. Thoughts? Suggestions?