Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Author's Note: Wow. This is actually my very first Heroes story, and I love the response I'm getting. Just remember that reviews feed the muse. And thank you to everyone who has already reviewed.
Buried
Chapter Two
"What did you miss?" Claire repeated slowly. She needed to sit down. She plopped down into one of the chairs. "You...you don't remember? Any of it?"
"It's...unclear," Sylar admitted as he crossed the room to stand in front of Nathan's desk. "There are parts I remember. When I was closer to the surface, I can remember most of those times fairly easily. But when I was buried deep in Nathan, those memories are...let's just say elusive."
She hadn't been prepared for that, so she wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. "Can you stop being Nathan? This conversation is creepier than it needs to be, with you looking like him."
Sylar considered it for a moment, shrugged, then let his form ripple back into his own skin. It felt wonderful. He'd only figured out who he truly was a few hours before, and had yet, until this moment, to lose the guise of the politician. "There. I held up my end. Now give me some answers."
"I knew the night of my 18th birthday. Because of the watch you gave me. But I didn't know what to do about it."
"So you weren't in on it?" he asked.
"No." She shook her head. "I would have just killed you. I wouldn't have tried so desperately to keep Nathan around by doing..." She trailed off, took a deep breath, then started again. "What they did to you was wrong."
"What who did to me? I can't remember who did it." He smiled, and she recognized the grin of the predator. He was shaken and off-balance. The fact that they were having this conversation at all was proof enough of that, but he seemed to be coming back to himself slowly. "Things will go much easier for all involved if you just tell me."
Claire thought quickly. Sylar seemed like he was in a mood for vengeance. She couldn't really blame him. But, even though she was disgusted with what her grandmother and adopted father had done, she was far from willing to sacrifice them to Sylar. So she said, "I don't know anything for sure. I can only tell you the conclusions I came to and how I got there because no one has told me anything. But I'll tell you everything I think I know if you won't hurt them."
He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. "I'm trying to think of a reason that I would make a promise like that, but I'm coming up blank."
"Because I'm on your side!" she said, talking quickly so as not to lose his interest. "But if you kill them, I won't be anymore. You've already killed both of my biological parents. Isn't that enough, Sylar? Can't you just call it even and leave them alone?"
"Leave them alone?" he asked. "You're not including yourself? Interesting."
Of course, he would pick up on that, Claire thought. She hadn't meant to put it that way; it had been a complete slip of the tongue. She definitely hadn't planned on letting him know the thoughts her mind had been occupied with since his death, not until she'd had enough time to sort them out. But maybe it could be used as another factor to convince him not to kill her family. "I hate you," she said slowly, purposefully. She knew he would hear the qualification coming.
"Less conviction than the last time. Again, interesting. You have my attention." In truth, he was feeling less of the urge to tear her family limb from limb than he thought he rightfully should. He thought it was probably because he'd spent several months locked in Nathan's head, and Nathan loved his mother and his brother, and was distantly grateful to Claire's adopted family for raising his daughter. So long without homicidal urges...maybe they would return with his memories.
"But when I thought you were dead, I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking that I never wanted to do." Claire looked up and met his eyes. She tried to study him from the perspective of someone he hadn't terrorized. She did her best to detach herself from her memories and look at him simply as a woman might size up a man. He was reasonably good looking. Not pretty, like West had been, but still handsome, in that 'I can kill you with my brain' sort of way. His inner nerd didn't show anymore, but she knew his origins, and she did tend to be attracted to nerds. His eyebrows were more prominent than she generally preferred, but they weren't horrible. She liked the way his eyes seemed to change color with the light. Sometimes they even looked almost green. And the unkempt look had always been a favorite of hers.
"Claire?" Sylar interrupted her staring. "You were doing some thinking? Maybe about why I wouldn't want to kill the bastards who locked me up in Bio-Dad's life?"
"Yeah," she replied, trying to get back to her point. She looked down and started fiddling with her nails. She couldn't let him see her face while she said this. It was bad enough that he'd hear the heartbreak and the defeat in her voice. "I don't want to be alone forever. So...you said before that maybe we should start building bridges now. And I'm willing to try that, to see if maybe, someday, we can be...something other than immortal enemies."
Sylar was nothing short of fascinated. He'd meant what he said that day, the day he supposedly died, about the connection they shared. True, it did have the added bonus of being a wonderful tool with which to mess with Claire's head, but that didn't make it any less true. And he knew that she had also meant what she said, about how she would try to kill him for the rest of her life. But...she wasn't trying to kill him now. In fact, she didn't even seem scared, not for herself, anyway. If anything, she was scared for the family that he might still decide to massacre. "You're not scared of me anymore," he said, almost to himself.
"You don't want to kill me anymore," she responded. "What you did to me...I think it might have been the worst thing that ever happened to me. My biggest fear. When you were done, I felt like I'd been raped." Sylar flinched, but Claire continued. "But it's done. I know that the worst is over. Short of the people I love dying, which I know is inevitable, there's really nothing left to fear. I mean, there is, but the fear isn't for my benefit."
"I won't apologize for taking your ability," Sylar said hesitantly. "I don't regret it. In fact, if I were to regret any ability I stole, yours would be the last. Because you survived the process. But I am sorry for how it made you feel." He felt awkward. He was sure that this need to apologize was a side effect of Nathan. He suspected it would not be the last. He couldn't just think he was Nathan for months without the guy leaving some sort of impression on him.
"That'll have to do, I guess," she muttered, then looked at him. "Thanks for trying."
He was struck by how civil this conversation was. She'd had to have been thinking about this for a good while if she was able to be this nice. After all, if anyone had the right to hate him, it was Claire. But the way she was acting, it almost felt as if she'd missed him. "Alright, so let me get this deal straight. You'll tell me everything you know about what they did to me, and the two of us...what? Spend some time together? Go on a date? And in return, I don't kill whoever's responsible. I leave your family alone."
"Yes, we spend time together. We talk. Maybe get to know each other on a level besides villain and victim. But other than that, I think that's the gist of the deal."
Sylar thought about the offer for several minutes while Claire tried not to give any outward signs of how nervous she was. Finally, he said. "Okay. We have a deal. I won't go after those responsible, and your families, both adopted and biological, are safe from me. Even if they did this to me. You have my word on that. Now tell me who it was."
She looked up, meeting his eyes again, praying that he would keep his promise. "I think it was Angela and my dad."
