Congrats to Jane Irene Masen Cullen for finding the line from Twilight; I thought for sure I'd stump everyone, but she got it – you go Jane!

Thanks to Chickiibomb and celine-twilightadict for motivating me to get past my biology-test-stress-induced writer's block and to everyone for being so patient.

New challenge: I really wanna know if any of you catch the reference to the online Heroes comics in this chapter, so if you do tell me and I'll give you a preview of chapter 5.

Chapter 4: Revelations

My face turned red as laughter broke out; a few people even clapped and whistled, and everyone who hadn't been close enough to get a good view of me dropping my food edged in to see the mess I'd made. Mr. Varner, who was on lunchroom duty, elbowed his way through the crowd, sent a student to get the janitor, and handed me several paper towels. "This floor needs mopping, but you may as well start cleaning up your mess, Miss Swan. And in the future, please save your performances for a more appropriate place."

Lauren snickered loudly; so did a few other kids, but I didn't see who because I was already on the floor with the paper towels, trying to pretend that spilt lemonade was the most interesting thing in the cafeteria.

In spite of this effort, my head snapped up when I heard Claire's voice again. "Hey, leave her alone – it's not like she dropped her lunch on purpose!" She'd gotten to her feet and was glaring at Mr. Varner, who looked startled for a second but quickly covered it with an unpleasant smile.

"How nice of you to take up for Miss Swan. Since you seem to be feeling generous, maybe you'd like to help her clean up, Miss-?"

"Bennet," she supplied defiantly, "and I'd be happy to." She marched over and dropped to her knees beside me. "Pass me a couple of those paper towels, Bella."

"Um, sure," I muttered, pushing a handful her way. Mr. Varner stalked off in a huff. Once he was gone I said, "Well, thanks. You can go finish eating now; I can handle this by myself."

Claire looked offended. "No way! I said I would help you, and that's what I'm doing. Unless you're dying to get rid of me."

"No, I didn't mean- Go ahead and stick around if you want." I resumed picking up stray noodles and lettuce leaves.

"Thanks, I really don't wanna go back to that table."

"You don't?" I asked, surprised. "Why not?"

Claire lowered her voice. "Because I don't like Lauren; I just couldn't think of a not-totally-rude way to ditch her. Does that make me sound terrible?"

I ducked my head so she wouldn't see me grin. "No, I don't think you're terrible for wanting to get away from Lauren. She's not exactly my best friend, you know."

"Yeah, didn't sound like it. So who is your best friend if it's not her?"

"Um…" I hesitated. I realized with a nasty sinking feeling that no one sprang to mind when I tried to think of my close friends; the people who used to be closest to me were gone, and after they left I'd eschewed any and all social interaction for so long that I doubted anyone felt particularly friendly toward me now. "I guess right now you are," I said to the floor. Claire's hand stopped in the middle of sweeping carrot slices into a pile, and my eyes moved up to her face; she was frowning.

"But we just met. Well, technically we met last Saturday, but the actual time we've spent together probably isn't even half an hour. And you don't know anything about me."

"That's not true. I know you saved my life, and you didn't have to – but you did anyway, and drove me home. I also know that nobody else stuck up for me with Mr. Varner or volunteered to help me pick this food up." I waved a hand to indicate the absence of anyone other than Claire on the floor with me.

"You have a point there," she agreed. "So does this make me, like, your hero or something?"

I actually laughed at that – without even telling myself to! My eyes widened, but this wasn't unpleasant, just unexpected. "Yeah, okay, I guess you're my hero."

"Cool; and hey, looks like this is all the food." Claire put the sauce-saturated paper towel on my tray and took it to the trash can with me trailing after her. "Since lunch is about halfway over, wanna just have some of mine? I don't mind sharing."

"Okay, thanks." Claire and I went back to our table and found everyone there gawking at us.

I blushed, but Claire just raised an eyebrow. "What's everybody staring at?"

Jessica's mouth closed with an audible snap, and she stuttered, "I- we, uh, didn't realize you were…friends with Bella?"

"Well, like I said earlier, I met her last weekend, and she seems pretty cool to me." Lauren choked on a crouton when Claire said that, but Claire seemed not to notice. "You know what, Bella, this table looks pretty full – maybe we should finish lunch somewhere else." She grabbed my arm with the hand not holding her lunch tray and steered me outside; we ended up on a bench in front of the gym. "Is this okay? I know it's not as warm out here, but I needed a break. Those guys've had their eyes glued to me all day, and Lauren and Jessica keep grilling me for details of my life…"

"I know all about it – they were like that when I was new here, too. It's just because they don't get a lot of new kids here."

"So when they do the poor kid gets put under a microscope?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I know it's not fun, but I have to admit I'm glad you're around for them to focus on today. If you hadn't come to school today, they'd be asking me about what happened Saturday night."

Tension charged the air between us. I'd already brought this subject up by commenting on her having saved my life, but we'd both known we wouldn't discuss it with all those other kids close enough to eavesdrop. Out here, there was nothing stopping us – unless she didn't want to talk about it. I held my breath, waiting for her reaction.

"And if anyone had asked you about it…what would you tell them? What did you tell your dad, the cop?"

My breath whooshed back out. "I told him about the guy cutting me, and that you and Peter ran him off and took me home. He said he'd never heard of you, and he didn't think he needed to talk to you; I was able to tell him what the man looked like. But I doubt Charlie will find him – I don't think he's in Forks anymore. You told me he wasn't coming back-"

"And he's not," Claire said quickly. "You don't have to worry about seeing him again."

"But I still want to know what he was doing here in the first place. All of it – him walking into Newton's and deciding to attack me out of all the people in that store, you getting there at exactly the right time to save me, and then ending up at my school – it all seems completely random, but I can't shake the feeling that it isn't! Am I losing it, or…?" Or what?

"You're not crazy, Bella. You might be better off if you were, but you're not." Claire's expression darkened pensively, but I was too excited at getting closer to the truth to wonder why.

"So if I'm not crazy, what's going on here?"

"This isn't a great place to have that conversation; there're things I have to show you-"

"What things? Where?" I asked eagerly.

"At my house. I'll tell you what – come with me after school, and I'll show you everything."

###

The last two classes of the day passed in a blur of anticipation; whatever went down at Claire's house this afternoon, at least it would – hopefully – put to rest my lingering doubts about my sanity. When the final bell rang at last, I hurried out to the parking lot to find Claire waiting. "I like your truck," she said with a grin. "It doesn't have one of those stupid alarms that go off when you lean on it."

"I'm surprised you recognize it; it was so dark the first time I saw you, I almost didn't recognize you in the cafeteria today."

Claire shrugged. "I recognized the engine when you drove in this morning – it's kind of loud. Anyway, I was waiting to tell you which car I drive; it's a black Dodge Charger." Noticing my confused look, she helpfully pointed to it. "That one."

"Thanks. I'm no car expert."

I followed Claire's Charger to her house, which, like mine, was on the outer edge of Forks with no close neighbors but still inside city limits, if only just. Once we were inside Claire called out, "Hey, Peter, are you here? I'm home, and I brought Bella with me!" There was no answer. "Huh, guess he's not around; you want a snack? We should have something edible here…"

Most people took a while to stock their kitchens after moving to a new house, and Claire Bennet and Peter Whatever-His-Last-Name-Might-Be were perfectly normal in this respect; a search of the pantry and refrigerator turned up nothing snack-worthy except chocolate chip cookie dough, which we decided to eat raw.

"So, I bet you thought up a list of questions for me in gym – what exactly do you want to know?" Claire asked, propping her elbows on the counter and staring at me.

"I want to know how you and Peter knew where and when I would need rescuing. How could you have known that that guy-?"

"Sylar."

"Sylar – you know his name? So you have met him before!" I exclaimed. "I got this idea that you might've, after I said something about him while you were driving me home and it seemed to make you angry…"

Claire confirmed it with a nod. "Yeah, I know all about him – way more than I ever wanted to."

"Then you know...about what he did to me? I know it sounds crazy, but I'm positive he cut me without even touching me." Claire gave a wry laugh.

"You're right, that is crazy; but it's no crazier than this." She opened a drawer and pulled out a steak knife. "Watch this."

I obediently locked my gaze on the knife – which she drew across her palm! "Oh my God!" Blood welled up from what looked like a deep cut. "You need a band-aid-"

"No, I don't. Watch." Claire held out her hand and I clearly saw the cut knit closed, leaving no evidence of any wound. I gawked at the unbroken skin, then raised my eyes to hers.

She watched me intently…waiting to see what effect this demonstration produced. "H-how did you...? That cut should've needed stitches, but-"

"It's…" She shrugged. "It's just a thing I do. Like a special ability, you know?"

My mind was reeling; it was hard to shake off my astonishment and try to understand this. "A special ability…you mean like a superpower…like Clark Kent or something? I did say you're my hero, but I never thought you were a real superhero!"

"Me, a superhero – I wish. Believe me, Bella, I have seen people with way cooler powers than healing."

"You've seen- you mean there're more people out there with- with special abilities?"

"Oh yeah – a lot more."

"Sylar – he's one of them too, isn't he?" Claire nodded. "So you and Sylar are both special," I mused. "Both of you…and Peter?"

"Wow, you're good."

I raised a hand to my mouth and nibbled my thumbnail; my mind was coming up with so many questions that I couldn't decide which to ask first. I settled on, "How'd you all get this way? I mean, were you bitten by radioactive spiders or what?"

Claire laughed. "No, I've never seen a radioactive spider – ever. As far as I know, you go through your whole life being perfectly normal, and then you wake up one day and you're not. No one's completely sure where it comes from, but there's a genetic link. Both my biological parents have abilities, and so do my father's mother and brother; that's Peter. But I can't say for sure that these genes only show up in people with special parents. It has to start somewhere, right?"

"What is it, though – a mutation? The human race evolving, or-?"

"Whoa, Bella, I don't know that! Anyway, all evolution starts out as mutations; that's how a species evolves, isn't it? And I've seen so many people like this, like me, in just the last year… who knows? This could be the next step in human evolution, or we could just be in the middle of a mutation epidemic. I don't have all the answers, okay?"

This frustrated me, but it was hardly Claire's fault. "Sorry, I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. Okay, let me ask a question you know; tell me about Sylar. Tell me… tell me what ability he has. Is there such a thing as a super-cutting power?"

"Not that I know of; I think cutting people is just one way Sylar uses his telekinesis-"

"Isn't that supposed to be what people do spoon-bending with?" I asked skeptically, making Claire roll her eyes.

"Yeah, you probably could use it to bend spoons, but most telekinetic people are more creative – like Sylar, unfortunately. Speaking of which, do you want to know about him or not?"

"I'm sorry I keep interrupting – it's just that every time you start explaining one thing, it brings up new questions. I'll try to shut up now." I mimed zipping my lips.

"It's all right, Bella. I know this is a lot to take in, but at least you're not having a total meltdown; you're already doing better than some. When Lyle found out what I could do he thought I was an alien," she added quietly, looking down at the countertop.

"Who's Lyle?" I asked, confused.

Claire's head snapped back up. "Never mind; guess you're not the only one getting sidetracked." Then, in an obvious effort to change the subject she said, "Aren't you gonna ask why Sylar likes cutting people telekinetically?"

"Um, because he's a psychopath? Or just because he can, or something like that?"

"You're right on about him being a psycho, but there's more to it than that. See, the way he does it, here," Claire reached across the counter and ran her finger over the thin, faint red line on my forehead, "if he'd been able to finish with you, he would've cut off the whole top of your head and-"

"He what?" I jerked back and fell off my stool, adding a bruise or two on the side of my right leg to go with the one on my backside from last Saturday. Claire hurried to help me up; so much for Peter telling me to try not to fall down again. At least he isn't here to see this time. He might have teased me about it, just like Emmett… no, that's not a safe thing to think right now! I really didn't want to go to pieces in front of Claire; no need to let her know how mentally unstable I was.

"Bella, are you sure you didn't hurt yourself? You look like you're in pain."

Crap, she noticed! To distract her, I said, "So Sylar wanted to cut off the top of my head? What would he do that for?"

"To take your brain; see, stuff like telekinesis and whatever else Sylar can do now is all just extra – his main ability is something called intuitive aptitude. Basically, that means that he can figure out how someone's ability works from examining their brain, and then he can do whatever they can do. That's where all his other powers come from."

My eyes had widened so much now that I half expected them to pop out of their sockets. "All his other powers? You mean he's…done that to a bunch of other…other people?" I practically shrieked. Almost involuntarily, I pressed my fingers to my forehead as if the incision might suddenly reopen.

Now that I knew the intent behind it, the wound seemed worse than before – sinister. The idea of my brain, the center of all my thoughts and everything else that defined me, being exposed, scrutinized, was horrifying; I couldn't imagine being violated that way. Revulsion and horror preoccupied me for several minutes, during which Claire waited silently for me to absorb what she'd told me; then my head cleared enough for everything she'd said to sink in.

"Okay, back up for just a minute. You said Sylar takes brains to learn how abilities work. If that's what he's after when he does that, why did he do it to me; have you ever heard of him taking a normal person's brain?"

"No, Sylar kills normal people if they get in his way, but he never bothers with their brains." Claire's gaze was so intense that her eyes seemed to drill into mine. "I've heard of him making a mistake – once, when some guy tricked him. Usually he's dead on about who's special and who's not."

The room seemed to be spinning; I'd picked up the implication behind Claire's words, but it was insane, impossible… "What exactly are you saying?" I gasped as if all the oxygen had been squeezed from my lungs.

"Don't play dumb, Bella. You know what I'm saying – that unless Saturday night was some kind of cosmic fluke, you're probably one of us."