'Dear Claire, you're so beautiful when you cry. It makes me want to make you weep harder so that your beauty will remain forever etched in my mind. Shame that we cannot discuss this in detail, for this letter is the product of a dream which, if I remember correctly, is a wish that your heart makes. Thank you, Claire. You make me feel loved.' Claire pursed her lips and sighed. Her eyes closed and a small smile happened upon her face. She folded the note in half and sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window with a look of longing on her face. She knew Sylar had written it days ago - the note had been folded in half so many times the crease was beginning to wear away - but she was hoping that he would take her away that very night. Her long golden hair was tied back and her naked, petite frame was covered by a blanket. She was waiting for him, though she knew deep down inside that she wouldn't have to wait long. She must have fallen asleep, for the next thing that she saw was Sylar's face hovering above her own, a wicked smile on his face. Nothing was more beautiful to her and she latched onto him, never wanting to let go. Sylar gently laid her back on the bed, his hands running along her body. He stared deep in her half-closed eyes and she murmured strange vowels to him. She moaned as he ran a hand up and down her inner thigh. He put a finger over her mouth. "Shh, Daddy will hear us," he whispered to her, slowly getting off of her. He stripped down and pulled a condom out of his pocket. Claire moaned softly, her whole body shivering as he came closer. His brown eyes locked onto her green eyes. They were warm, yet dangerous. She loved them. Sylar climbed back on the bed and over her body, the heat of their bodies under the blanket canceling the cold air that came in through the open window. He gave her sensual kisses, kisses that made her moan in his mouth and try to pull him in closer. He overpowered her and kept his distance. "Not yet," Sylar said. "I want to enjoy this, my little phoenix."
Claire woke up on the floor face-down, her legs sprawled on the ground with the blanket. She didn't have to look up to see that it was still well into the night. Shaking, she tried to get back in her bed.
She collapsed holding onto the edge of the bed, crying as quietly as she could. She didn't want these dreams anymore - she just wanted to have normal dreams. She had no idea what her dreams meant or why she remembered every ridiculous little detail days after she had them.
"Stop this," Claire said to herself, climbing up on the bed and curling up with her teddy bears. Ever since these dreams started, she confided in them like she used to when she was scared of the dark. She used to tell them of the imaginary monsters that lived in the closet, waiting for her to fall asleep before they played with her toys. Now she told them of a real monster she was having sex with in her dreams.
It didn't make it easier to deal with. She wanted to tell somebody who could stop it, but she didn't know if she could ever trust somebody with her dreams. She was afraid that she'd end up an insomniac, or break down and try everything possible to kill herself. Maybe she'd seek out Sylar and beg for him to kill her.
"Now there's an idea," Claire said to her bears bitterly, then relayed her ideas to them. The sad thing was she looked at them like they actually knew the answer but were withholding it just so that they could have some function instead of collecting dust in the closet.
Thank you, Claire. You make me feel loved.
Claire held the largest teddy bear she had, crying into its chest until her eyes burned. She didn't know why this was happening to her now, when her life was finally getting into some form of normality.
Sylar watched her with a tilted head in the closet. Curiosity shone in his eyes as she mumbled words that didn't make sense into the teddy bear's chest. He could use this to his advantage, make the dreams seem more real. He wanted her broken when they finally meet when she wakes up, so broken she wouldn't protest to him taking her away.
After that… well, he didn't know if he wanted to love her or kill her. All he knew was that he wanted her broken, because that was the only time the real Claire showed instead of the happy-go-lucky Claire that masqueraded around the household from seven to eleven on a good day.
In a way, Sylar was helping her find her true self. When she was scared, angry, or confused, she always showed her true self, if just for a moment. He loved it, the strong, fierce yet misunderstood Claire. When she was finally broken, Sylar would help her put the pieces back in the right place and unleash his creation upon the world.
He'd show everyone who the real monster was, keeping the real Claire locked away in a castle for a Prince Charming such as himself to rescue her.
