"Son of a bitch."

I should be dead, no, deader then dead burnt to a nice black crisp but fate can be both a saint (rarely) and a bitch.

"Claire?"

Cheerleader, pom-pom, and Miss goodie goodie are some of the names I've called her over these two years but 'friend' now that's a first.

"Better hurry, El, the 'son of a bitch' is getting away. (sorry I won't be there to watch him burn)"

-

For the next few weeks (with her, the one I can hurt forever and never really touch, words buried deep in my head) I become the hunter rather then the other way around, every single part of me fueled with rage toward him and him alone.

(well, maybe some it was toward all the rest of them that have loved and left scars in my heart and skin, that I can no longer see at all)

"Who the hell is she?"

From what I could see (and with just a look I see it all) the one before me, the one that be the first to fry, was his 'student' and if he lived (which was slim to none) today he would go on to be the next generation Sylar.

('Hell Hath No Fury like a Woman Scorned')

"The one that's going to kill you (baby-boy, if only you had come at another time you could have been such a pretty toy) and your merde écouter* master or what ever the hell he is."

I was ready, so very ready that wasn't about to let him (the one that did this all and doesn't even care) talk his way out of it like so many times before.

A girl can only take so many 'forgive mes' before she goes off and just doesn't forgive the damn guy or kills him instead, which I'm about to do and smile while I do.

"Elle, but your-"

"Dead? That lasted for about one day tops, now instead of going straight to hell like I should have. I'm here to send you there instead, Gabriel."

-

"Where is he, Elle?"

"Dead, burnt to a nice crisp just like your going to be very soon. Sorry, aw, did you like him? He was trying to save his 'daddy' so he had to go, now it's your turn."

All I had to do was pull the trigger (which was the power that the son of a bitch before me used to burn me all up) and it would be all over, the rage, the fear, and the feeling of death that was sitting on my skin still.

But I even knew myself that it wasn't that easy, because while doing all this I had to block out his words that were always swirling in my head and charming it's way underneath.

And sadly I don't know if I'm that strong (or if my rage is deep enough).

"Before you go up in a blaze, tell me one thing. Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because you lied to me."

I had seen his hate for lying far before this point in my life (when I turned him into what he is today and it came back and bitten me in the ass, karma sucks) and I had felt his hate but back then I would have fought back with every part of myself but for some unknown, reason even to myself, I didn't even lift a finger.

"Now that's thing, boy-friend, I never lied to you, not at that point and I was naive enough to believe I loved you (and sadly I truly did, and may still) and you felt the same. I learned that wasn't true sooner then I wanted to, so you see your the lier not me."

I knew each and every word that would come from his lips from this second on it would as always start with 'I'm sorry' and end in even more lies that flow from his month like a fountain and can never be shut off.

"I'm sorry too, or at least I used to be."

-

"Is it done?"

"It's done."

Before I had the chance to leave (run and run faster then ever before) and cry alone like every time before this and every time that was coming, she hugged me tight.

Her arms barely full grown (and they will never be) and hugging me tighter then all the rest of them, daddy, Peter, Adam, Mohinder and Sylar never truly held me this close as if I was right in her heart.

"Thank you, Claire. Thank you so goddamn much."

-Author's Notes:

*Elle just called Sylar a shithead in French, lol!