AN/ Ok, well this is just a quick and short update. I didn't get many comments (which I'm fine with, Sylaire fics don't tend to get many I've noticed...) But the comments I DID get were super supportive and nice and encouraged me to add on! I only hope I didn't disappoint...

Sylar looked around almost happily. Finally he was back in his body, and though he desperately wanted revenge, he also had to see his city again…through his eyes. He strolled down the street, taking in sights and sounds that were conveniently loud to him. He could hear every song on everyone's iPod, hear people chew their food, hear what a jerk Rebecca's ex was. He was going to have to get used to this all over again.

He entered Central Park and sat at the closest bench. He stretched out and faced the sun. He wanted revenge, but once people knew he was back, he would have no time for this relaxation. He unwound. He remembered HIS feelings, HIS thoughts, and HIS memories… particularly memories pertaining to one blonde individual. HIS Claire.

He called her his own because he knew she would not resist long. Sure she was 'indestructible' but she was also weak. She needed a person to share her life with, whether or not she truly loved them. But she WOULD love him. He sighed happily and sat up. It was time to move on…It was time to kill. An evil sneer donned his previously peaceful face.
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Claire sat sadly at her desk, attempting to finish her paper. She took yet another small glance at the empty bed across her own. Gretchen had seemed calm at first, but now she was gone and Claire was alone again. She knew it would happen eventually, but it was too soon to lose another friend. She sighed and faced her computer screen. She was only on her second paragraph…it was a ten page paper. She furiously shut her laptop. She knocked over her pencil cup, her stapler…she ripped the sheets from her bed, she pulled out the clothes from her closet and tossed them to the floor, she stomped on them. There was still not enough destruction. She sat on top of the mess she created and fumed. She may be indestructible. But her life sure as hell wasn't.
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Sylar washed his hands. The woman's power was pretty useless. Who cared about the future? He knew he would die alone…that idiot Japanese man told him so. He chuckled to himself for believing the moron; Claire would come to him soon. She had to. Right? He turned off the faucet and hid Angela Petrelli's body in the closet. So much for seeing the future…she couldn't even stop herself from getting killed! As he shut the closet door, he chuckled to himself and spoke out loud, "Ha, 'skeletons in the closet' has sure taken on a new meaning." He stopped and wiped his brow. Would she come to him? He had after all just killed her grandmother, and her biological mother before that, and her biological father, and her friends, and…he shook his head. Maybe he would just check in on her.
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Claire had been staring at her ceiling for the past hour. It was fascinating how many images one could see on the rough surface of her ceiling. The last half an hour, however, was devoted to one particular image. A dark haired man, with thick eyebrows and a small smirk. Sylar. This was getting ridiculous. She shook her head furiously, but did not move from her spot on the bed. She sighed. She just couldn't help it…it had been so long since she saw the unbreakable man's face. Breakable man. She sighed…she'd been doing that a lot lately. She lifted her heavy limbs and returned to her desk. She almost wanted to join the sorority that had tried to kill Gretchen…anything to get her out of this lonely cage. She shouted at the ceiling, "Normal life isn't as interesting as having you alive!"

"I agree." She froze.

AN/ I'll try to update as quickly as I did this time around, because this is obviously not done (it would be mean if it was though, wouldn't it?) But this is just me procrastinating, and I could possibly end up having too much work as a result and not have time to finish soon. BUT, I WILL make a sincere effort?