A/N: It happens to be my birthday today, so I wrote this. Poor Claire.
Once you hit about eighty-five, they all seem to feel the same. After one hundred, you start getting tired of them. And after one hundred fifty, the magic disappears completely. There is no one around who could truthfully say "Oh it seems like only yesterday that you were born," in fact, there in no one on earth who was even alive at that time at all.
Well, except one.
"So this is…fun," Sylar said with mock excitement. I sighed.
"Maybe it would be more fun if you wore your hat." Sylar shot the colorful party hat a look of disdain.
"I'd rather not."
"Fine," I replied. A moment of silence followed. "Sooo…" I said awkwardly "Nothing to talk about I guess."
"Claire, I see you once a year-on your birthday. I don't know much about you."
Silence.
"Yeah," I agreed, "I guess I don't know much about you either…um, killed anyone lately?" Sylar shook his head.
"No."
Pause.
"Done any cheers lately?" I cringed. I hadn't been a cheerleader in over 140 years.
"No," I said.
More silence.
"So, why don't we have cake?" I suggested.
"Sure," Sylar agreed, and went to get it and light the candles.
"16?" I asked.
"Well you're 160…just multiply it by 10." I smiled faintly.
"Seems like…I remember when I was 16." Sylar made a look of disgust.
"Me too," he said, "Not fun. Anyway, blow them out." I closed my eyes and concentrated on my wish-that by next year I would have some friends other than Sylar-and blew out the candles. They all went out in one breath except for two.
"It's us," I remarked, and blew them out. Sylar mercifully spared me the horror of him singing "Happy Birthday" and moved on to cutting the cake.
"Why is it always strawberry?' he asked.
"I like strawberry," I said defensively. "What would you prefer?" Sylar shrugged. "Something different. Don't you ever want a change?" I shook my head.
"No."
We ate cake in silence.
Finally Sylar stood up.
"You're leaving?" I asked. "So soon?"
"I do have a family to get back to," Sylar reminded me.
"Oh right," I said. "Well…bye."
"Goodbye," Sylar replied. "Happy birthday, Claire." He took his jacket and left. I put my head down in my cake and cried.
