Title: Connecting Roses
Author: Bunny
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Really not mine.
Summary: Post- Let it Bleed. Sylar leaves Claire a trail of breadcrumbs so she will discover what he needs.
A/N: Yeah, I'm not happy about the death last Monday… *tear*
Claire walked through Hunt's Park entirely relaxed. That could have something to do with Sylar's arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder. Leaning into him more she reflected on the past few weeks. Their dates had become a regular thing several times a week. The roses were also a regular occurrence. He tended to give her one on days they didn't see each other, which Claire appreciated as a reminder of them when they were apart. She could not believe how comfortable they were with each other, how compatible they were; something that Gretchen constantly mentioned.
A cloud came over her thoughts. The longer their relationship continued, the more important it was to tell her family. And the longer she waited, the harder they would take the news.
Sylar suddenly stopped walking and she looked up at him worried. All night he had been distant. "Why are you with me?" he asked, moonlight bouncing off his hair.
"Because we're on a date," offered Claire lamely. "Where is this coming from?"
"I should be the one person in this world you hate, so why are you with me?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"You didn't answer mine," he growled. Backing up slightly Claire hit a tree. She wasn't scared of him, she was scared at what he was implying. "Something happened here and you changed your mind. What was it?"
Claire glanced around to see where they were. It was the same place where she was going to stab him. "I don't hate you," she replied, trying to get her thoughts in order.
"But why?" he exclaimed frustrated, an angry gleam in his eyes. He pointed to the ground, "You had me pinned, right there. You were going to kill me when something switched, what was it?"
Fury flared in her chest. "You want me to go back to hating you, is that what you want?"
"No," rushed out Sylar coming closer to her, hands moving to grasp her arms. She noticed blue sparks flying from his fingertips. "Where did that rage go?"
"Well, it's starting to come back right now," Claire snapped back, animosity rising up.
Gripping her arms tighter, anger setting more into his features. "I can feel that, so why are you staying with me? Why aren't you off with somebody that will make you feel less complicated?"
"Because I love you!" she screamed, slapping his hands off of her. As soon as the words left her, she gasped covering her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" she faltered, frozen where she stood.
The blank expression on Sylar's face was unreadable making her blood run cold. Bringing a hand up he lightly traced over her hair. "You aren't lying." He wasn't upset anymore, but was he happy? He still wasn't reflecting any emotion. Touching his fingertips to her chin, Sylar made her look at him. "Say it again."
"I love you," Claire breathed so quietly, she could scarcely hear herself. As soon as she uttered the words aloud again, her heart fluttered. "I love you," she said again louder, a slow grin growing. Her heart once again thumped an extra beat, tickling her chest. "I'm in love with you." A laugh of complete joy bubbled up as she again covered her mouth, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes. However, the still vacant Sylar troubled her. "Are you not okay with that –"
Her response was Sylar grasping the back of her neck to draw her in as he hungrily attacked her mouth. The intensity which he came at her with was unlike any he had before. Whatever his issue had been dissipated as he shoved her into the tree, not separating from her for breath. Growing weak at the knees from his welcomed assault, Sylar pressed her more against the tree to keep her standing up. When he pulled back, Claire reached up with a shaky hand to trace his face. "You are impossible," he murmured, amazement shining in his eyes beneath the lust. Dipping in, he stopped just short of her lips. "I love you."
Her entire body shivered when he uttered those words. Mouths connecting once more, Claire gasped as he lifted her up, encouraging to hook her legs around his waist. Lifting herself up she clutched onto his head, messing up his hair. She felt his interest as he took the opportunity to slide one hand along her bare leg to the edge of her skirt. Tingles of pleasure hummed throughout her body.
Pulling back just enough to gasp for air Claire licked her lips. Gazing into his eyes, she saw them black with desire. Judging by her heaving chest and the pull in her stomach, she was certain she held the same look. Her own confidence and yearning urged her to suggest, "Do you want to come back to my dorm? Gretchen went back home for the weekend."
She could feel his smile as he drifted past her ear. "And what would we do in your dorm?"
"Oh, I don't know," answered Claire, heat rushing to her face from both embarrassment and his tongue on her neck. Searching for an answer she impulsively blurted out, "Play Scrabble?"
Feeling him stop, Sylar leaned back letting her down, an entertained gleam on his face. "Scrabble?" She bit her lip to stifle the giggle that was close to breaking free. Leaning towards her his voice rumbled, "I would love to play Scrabble with you."
Not being able to stop herself Claire snickered at the poor innuendo. Joining in her laughter, Sylar took her arm and started to lead her out of the park. She didn't move and pulled her arm away. At his concerned look, she rushed to clarify. "I know that you know, but I've never…played Scrabble," she admitted, nerves bunching up in her stomach. "So, could you go easy?"
Smirking, he pulled her into a hug. His answer in her ear made her heart beat fast in anticipation. "I can spell very slowly. And I am going to make sure that you win. Again. And again. And again," he assured.
As the pair began walking away from the tree, Sylar wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind, nibbling her neck. Shrieking at the tickling sensation, Claire smacked at his forearms shouting, "Stop!"
A whooshing sound blasted past her ears as Sylar was ripped from around her. Eye's following the path of wind that blew, she had just enough time to see a man crashing Sylar into the ground.
After landing a few punches, she saw Peter fly backwards as Sylar telekinetically pushed him thirty feet back. "Peter! What are you doing!" Ignoring Claire he ran forward throwing balls of electrical charges. Sylar deflected them with his mind also advancing into the fight. "Cut it out! Both of you!"
By the time she had reached them, Peter had been charging his hands before landing punches, leaving the smell of charred flesh in the air. Though his face healed fast enough, Sylar continued to push the other man back with his mind while attempting to divert electrical bolts. Close enough to the battle, Claire tried to put herself between the two men in an attempt to get them to end. "Claire, get out of the way!" Peter absorbed the power of telekinesis with his most recent punch and he forced her back.
Flying through the air, Claire landed on her back. Hearing a cracking sound in her back, she shifted her weight to pop her spine back into place. Sitting up just in time she saw Sylar restraining Peter down to the ground with his mind. She saw his lips moving, but couldn't hear as she was too far away.
But she would recognize that psycho, empty look on his face anywhere.
Running to stop him from killing her uncle, fear pumped through her as she helplessly watched as Sylar lifted his finger and tilt his head preparing to slice his head off.
Skidding to a halt, Claire gripped the front of Sylar's coat. "Stop this, please," she begged, but the murderous gleam in his eyes didn't even tick towards her.
"Claire, why are you reasoning with him?" exclaimed Peter from the ground. "He's a monster."
"Peter, stay the hell out of this," she warned, still focusing on Sylar. He hadn't moved for the kill, so she desperately hoped some part of him registered her. Managing to get him to move back a bit, she again tried to snap him out of his trance.
"Sylar, look at me, please." No response. Gripping his cheeks with both hands she forced his head to turn to her. "Look. At. Me." Recognition sparked somewhere in his eyes, so she continued.
"Do you remember what we told each other less than five minutes ago? I am not going anywhere. You've been asking me what I want, but what I need is you." Chest filling with sorrow, she pointed to Peter. "But if you end him or anyone I care about, that's the last straw. I don't think I could ever forgive you." Claire choked on her words, still holding onto his face. "And I don't think I can live with that." Leaning up she pressed her lips to his.
Whether it was her kiss or Peter's colorfully vocal protesting, Sylar began to move on his own. Blinking slowly out of his trance as his breathing returned to normal, he touched his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing her shoulders.
"It's okay," sniffed Claire, stroking his stubbly cheek with her thumb. "You're back now." As the stress of the moment dissipated she allowed herself to relax into him.
"Claire, you had better explain to me what is going on right now!" bellowed Peter from the ground.
"I need to talk to him," she informed, closing her eyes to mentally prepare for the argument ahead.
"I'm not leaving."
"I didn't ask you to leave; I just said that I need to talk to Peter." Sylar kissed her forehead. Allowing his lips to linger on her, she knew he was taunting Peter judging by his once more colorful protests. "You're going to have to let him up too."
"He comes after me again I am putting him right back where he was." Lifting his finger, Peter shot up to a standing position.
"Son of a bitch, I am going to rip you apart!" He stepped threateningly towards Sylar as Claire hurried to hold him.
"Peter, back off," she pleaded as she pushed him back. Behind her she felt Sylar walk away to give them more space. "If you're going to yell at someone, yell at me. What are you even doing here?"
"I came by to visit and much to my surprise found Sylar attacking you."
"In case you hadn't figured it out that wasn't an attack, it was a fondle."
Shuddering, he defended, "No, he made you do that. Some kind of mind control or something."
"He didn't make me do anything, Peter." Sighing, she admitted the one thing that would send him over the edge. "He's my boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" he repeated in disbelief. The deafening silence that blared made her feel ill as realization dawned on him. "Claire, you do remember what he's done?"
"Of course, I do, and I've dealt with it –"
"Dealt with it?" As Peter shouted at her, she swept her hair back. "Claire, this is not something that just gets dealt with. He is a murderer, or have you forgotten?"
"No, I haven't. That's why I came over to save your ass while you were pinned to the ground," she vented, not appreciating being the punching bag in the conversation.
"And yet you're dating him," he sneered.
"Yes. He can control himself, he just needs a reminder at times."
Turning away he rubbed his face in frustration. First thing Peter asked when he faced her again was her favorite question. "Have you slept with him?"
Scoffing, Claire retorted, "You know, whether we have or not, you should not a question that you really don't want to hear the answer to." She swore she could hear Sylar snicker behind her.
"How could you?" Peter completely lost it. "Living such a hypocritical life. You were the only one left that I trusted and you hide this huge secret from me."
"I never lied to you, Peter," she clarified.
"He killed Nathan," he uttered in an empty voice. "Slit his throat and crushed his consciousness into oblivion." Hard eyes aimed at Claire as he pointed accusingly at Sylar. "And you're acting like a tramp by screwing that man."
Breath knocked out of her as though she had been punched in the gut, Claire smacked Peter as hard as she could across the face. "Don't you ever speak to me that way again."
It took Claire a moment to realize the yell of pain Peter let out was not from her, but from his forearm. Concern for him instantly replaced her anger as she helped roll up his sleeve.
There was a tattoo of a spinning compass.
"Sylar," called Claire, "come take a look at this." Peter, still hissing in pain, made an effort to get away, but she held his arm firmly.
The other man briskly walked over, inspecting the tattoo, immediately recognizing where it had come from. "Did a woman give this to you?" asked Sylar.
Peter tightened his lips, not responding.
"Dammit, Peter, answer him. It's a relevant question."
Setting his jaw he reluctantly replied, "I don't know. It just appeared one day."
Wracking her brain, she asked, "Did you meet anyone peculiar that day? What did they look like?"
Thinking back, Peter slowly nodded, "Yeah, there was this man; a William Hooper. Middle aged, kind of dark hair, a little bit of an Irish accent."
"Samuel," Claire decided. "But why would he call you now?"
"I don't think he did," said Sylar, still observing the tattoo. "Your base power is still rooted in empathy. The ink manifests itself into a form by experiencing strong emotions. The compass represents something for those who are lost." Amused, he ticked his head. "How does it feel hitting rock bottom?"
She rolled her eyes at the unhelpful comment as Peter ripped his arm away. "Your dad had a compass like this, only it was broken."
"It wasn't broken, it only works with people who have gifts."
"I need to talk to him. Does he know where it leads to?"
"Yeah, I do too. It leads to a carn – What are you doing?" Peter leaned in grasping Sylar's arm and backed off just as quickly. "Peter, please don't!"
"I need answers. And quite frankly Noah deserves to know." With that, he shot up in the sky.
Thinking of nothing better to say, Claire shouted after him, "Tattle tale!" Before she could process what was happening, Sylar firmly held her before flying up after Peter.
