With a small lift in the air, Peter flew above the ground a few feet in the alley way to reach the fire escape ladder. He'd rather not be seen going to see Claire as often as he did, mostly for her protection as her foster father, Mr. Bennett had requested.

Peter climbed the rest of the way up to Claire's window which stood open. Peter stepped onto the small window seat inside and sat down to wait, probing around the immediate vicinity for a thought from Claire's mind or a hint of her voice.

Five minutes faster than last time… he heard her as she climbed the stairwell and entered onto her floor.

Ugh! I've got to cut my hair. It's too long for how warm it's getting.

The key was placed into the lock outside and Peter watched the door open.

I hope I have some ice cream left.

She'd been out for a run as Peter had figured. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail that bobbed over the back of her neck. He watched as she turned and started at his presence, ignoring the shock of curses she automatically thought.

"Hey," she said as she turned off her MP3 player that was strapped to her arm.

Peter forced a small smile and returned her greeting.

He's angry at me. She thought.

He immediately tried to relax his face out of the solemn expression he knew it held.

"What is it?" she said.

He wanted to glare at her but found that he couldn't even with all the power he possessed. Her young face, matted in sweat from her run looked innocently back at him, concerned for him.

"I went to meet her today, just as you said." Peter spoke lightly.
Oh no!

"What happened?" Claire sat down next to him on the window seat.
Peter then scowled in general.

"She stood you up?" she sad disbelieving as she stood back up, ripped off her MP3 player and tossed it at him as she went into her bedroom, "But she would have called me if something had happened. I know she would have, Peter." Her voice trailed out from her room.

It gave him a little satisfaction at how Claire had reacted. Peter smiled to himself as she was in the bedroom searching for her phone.

What could it have been? Rehearsal? She would have called me. Sick? She would have called me.
Where is my freaking phone?!

Claire came back into the room reflecting Peter's scowl on her face but her phone was in her hand. There were no messages on it.
She sank back down next to him on the window seat, "I know something happened, Peter. She's not the kind of person to just not show up."

She tends to be late, though.

The satisfaction Peter felt at Claire being so flustered quickly melted away as he saw and heard how frustrated she was at her friend. It wasn't her fault and he knew it. But he couldn't help smiling at the thoughts of I'm gonna kill her! that continued to creep into Claire's mind.

She looked at him and saw him smiling. At first she went over what she had said that he might have found amusing until she realized what she was thinking. "Get out of my head, will you?" she smiled and nudged him gently, "You promised you wouldn't do that."

"Sorry," Peter said.

"No you're not." She replied as she picked up her phone again to call her friend with no objection and no denial from Peter.

The awkward pair of them were nearly to her apartment building, Gabriel handling most of her weight by that time. His arm held firm around her waist, hers along his back – they limped down the street, her outside hand on his shoulder for further support and she clutched onto his jacket off and on when she thought she was going to stumble.

The pain in her ankle was getting worse and she was relying more and more on him for support. But he was patient and kind every step they went, slowing down or stopping when she needed to, telling her to fall against him if she felt a loss of balance.

They were at the street corner ready to cross when a soft chiming came from the recesses of her bag that had slid down and dangled from her elbow. Without a thought, Ellen instinctively released her supporter who moved right with her as she stumbled and searched her bag for her phone.

Gabriel guided her back up the sidewalk until she was safely leaning against the brick wall of a building along the street. He stood close by, his ears pricked – allowing him to listen to both ends of the conversation.

Ellen answered the phone and a female voice on the other end seemed to have no want for useless phone banter, "Ellie? Where have you been?"

Gabriel watched her sigh, "I know, I know. Tell him I'm sorry! You won't believe what happened to me on the way." She smiled knowingly at Gabriel.

"Where are you?" the voice sounded calmer to him.

"I'm standing across the street from my building. Listen – I'll tell you what happened if you just listen for a minute – " She looked at Gabriel and mouthed I'm sorry to him about the phone call. He shook his head for her not to worry.

"I was running towards 5th – "

"Why were you running?"

"Because I was a little late."

She explained each event as innocent as it had happened to her friend who stayed silent and listened. Gabriel found he was a little preoccupied during the explanation. He was trying to place where he'd heard that girl's voice before. It was incredibly familiar to him.

"I know! Isn't that sweet of him?" Ellen was saying. "He's walking me home now. I've got to put my foot up. It feels like it's about to fall off."

"What about Peter?" the voice said over the phone.

Gabriel tensed and swallowed – Peter Petrelli. If it was he, Gabriel easily placed the woman's voice as well – Claire Bennett. Of all the people she was going to meet in New York, Ellen was going to meet Peter Petrelli. Gabriel's hands clenched into fists, his vision reddened. He had lusted after their powers for so long and was still disappointed to the point where he had left the city for a time. His jaw clenched at the thought of them and he glared at the ground, his control slipping and the heat building up inside of him.

"Please tell him I'm sorry! If he wants to try it again I'd be happy to and I promise I'll be there." Ellen said, her eyes falling on Gabriel. She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her. Her bright eyes were slightly worried due to his expression.

No. He would not harm Ellen.
Gabriel nodded, saying he was alright and closed his eyes to regain his composure.

"Okay," Claire said, "Get some ice on it. I'll see you later." She hung up and looked at Peter who could also hear the entirety of the conversation.

"Sprained ankle." She said.

"And she ended up meeting another guy." Peter rolled his eyes thinking how stupid he could have been to have thought this was the woman he'd been so anxious to see.

"It's kind of romantic, isn't it?" Claire smiled.

"Oh yeah," Peter said running a hand over his face, "It's almost like it was planned – " he stopped and cocked his head to the side as he thought.

"Do you know if she's like us, Claire?"

Claire looked puzzled, "Ellie? I never thought to ask. It's not really something that comes up in regular conversation, 'So, how about this weather? Oh, and by the way you don't happen to have any supernatural abilities you didn't tell me about before?'"

"Alright, alright," Peter hated it when Claire pinned him on something stupid he had said, "it was just a feeling."

Claire eyed him for a minute knowing full well that she may not have the ability but Peter could never keep anything he was feeling from her. "This doesn't have anything to do with that woman, does it?"

By "that woman" Peter knew Claire meant the woman he'd seen in his dreams. Claire was the only one who knew of her. He hadn't even told Nathan. But he didn't answer her knowing that she'd come to the conclusion on her own rather quickly.

She sighed, "Peter, you know you can't force fate." She said.

Peter nodded, "I know, but that wasn't what I meant exactly."

Claire thought again, her eyes studying every line of his face until they widened and she stood up in front of him, her body tensed, "He has not come back, Peter." He could have cut glass on her voice, "He knows he's wanted everywhere, why – ?"

Peter looked up at her, his eyes as serious as her voice, "Who? Who is wanted? No one has ever even gotten a photograph of him. All anyone has are inaccurate sketches that could be any man's face.
"He could easily be back."

Claire pursed her lips trying to think of a response, something that would prove to him that Sylar had not returned but she could not find anything. She knew Peter could be right. "You're just being paranoid. Even if Ellie had any ability she'd probably be dead by now, wouldn't she? You can't say that he doesn't mess around in that area.
"This guy she met is walking her home as we speak."

She spoke as though she were afraid to speak Sylar's name and Peter couldn't blame her. Sylar had attempted to kill her more than twice for her power. Because Claire lived it meant that Sylar was still foilable. Still mortal. That is, until he managed to find someone else who also possessed her ability. Peter came to a decision then.

"Where is her apartment?"

Claire studied him suspiciously for a moment and didn't answer.

"Don't worry, I won't let them see me." He said.

Claire gave him the directions to Ellen's home and as soon as she spoke Peter stepped out of the window onto the fire escape. Claire watched him disappear before her worried eyes.

"There's no harm in checking it out." His voice spoke from outside the window but she saw nothing.

"Be safe." She said as she heard a rush of air as he took off into the sky. Her eyes looked up as though she could follow his path, though she could see nothing and she felt a prick of envy towards him. She would give anything to be able to hide whenever she wanted.

Peter could only have real peace in the skies where there were no minds, no voices he could hear. He drank it in, allowing himself to drift for a while over the cityscape until he saw the street Claire had described, a park on one side and several buildings pushed closely together on the block across the street.

He began his decent and landed on the roof of a building on the corner of the block. Watching and listening closely he saw the small people on the street as they walked getting bits of conversation as they passed below him. Still invisible, Peter leaped off the roof and floated down to the street below in between the buildings. His mind and ears remained alert for any hint of a familiar voice.

…there'd be no harm, he's rather gentlemanly anyway

Peter leaned forward a bit and listened closely, his back to the wall of the building.

"Are you sure you're alright?" a woman as saying, "I'm truly amazed you survived." She laughed brightly.
Thank the stars you were there. She thought.

"Don't worry about me." A man replied in a soft voice, a voice Peter knew very well.
Peter started and peered around the corner to the front of the building. Sylar. He was helping a dark haired woman Peter assumed to be Ellen up the stairs of the building one at a time. He was smiling and helping her as though he'd been a Good Samaritan every day of his life!
He stood on the sidewalk, blinking in shock at the scene before him.

…ask him to come up already! Peter heard her think to herself.

He wanted to rip her out of his grasp right then but he couldn't move. The sheer bafflement of Sylar actually or maybe even pretending to care about another human being had him, Peter, standing dumbfounded glued to his spot on the sidewalk a few meters from the stairs. There had to be a motivation for him.

Gabriel boosted her to the last step in front of the door before climbing up next to her.
"Thank you." She said taking his hand and squeezing it gratefully in her own. "I'm so sorry about that."

Gabriel's brow furrowed, confused, "What?"
"Falling on you." She said smiling, her cheeks blushing slightly from embarrassment.
I had to have at least cracked one of your ribs.

He watched Sylar smile at her, his eyes were warm rather than the sheer cold, relentless eyes Peter was familiar with. "I told you not to worry about me."
I'm not worth the concern.

Ask him now! You actually got him to smile.

Ellen opened her mouth but Gabriel was ready. He needed to be alone – without her for a while as unfair as that seemed to a part of him.
"Have a good evening, Ellie." He said softly, pulling his hand from hers.

"You too." She said not realizing Peter could hear her inward curses. No wonder she and Claire were friends. Their behavior was quite alike.

I don't have a phone number or anything. I know where he works. Something…anything…anything...
"I told you the name of the club where I perform, right?" she was at the end of her rope and she knew it.

Get out of here. He thought She is like a poison that can't kill but will claim my life.
"Club Maroon." He said.

"Right." She leaned against the railing of the stairway, "Thanks so much for everything, Gabriel."

Before he or Peter could react she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek and opened the door to her building.

At first, Peter wasn't aware that his mouth was hanging open.
Gabriel looked almost as shocked, "Goodbye." He muttered. I can never see her again.

It sounded sad to Peter, regretful. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. It was like a different person had possessed Sylar's body.

Gabriel watched her shut the door and stood there on the stoop, apparently alone, the kiss burning on his cheek. He walked down the stairs after a minute or so, his fingers brushing his face where she'd kissed him.

Never again. He reassured himself.

Peter watched as he stepped off the curb but stopped suddenly and turned on the spot. There had been another heartbeat, another breath close by the entire time. Sylar knew it to be human. He had only just noticed it and looked through Peter but knew for certain that someone was there, very close, and he had a pretty shrewd idea as to who it was.

Sylar breathed slowly, relaxing, his confidence regained, "I can't see you but I know you're there," he lowered his voice to a deadly whisper, "I know you can hear me."

Peter instinctively backed away and saw the smile that was familiar to him appear on Sylar's face. The smile did not reach his eyes, which remained hard and cold. He'd heard his footstep.

The heartbeat was faster from the anticipation of what would happen. But Gabriel did nothing. He placed his hands in his pockets, turned, and walked back across the street.