Author's Note: A portion of this chapter was inspired by Death Cab for Cutie's song Someday You Will Be Loved. It's an awesome song for those who don't know it.
Chapter 12 When The Line Blurs
Junction City, KS
Matt was forced onto the chair by Noah Bennet. The older man's cold stare brought shivers down Matt's back. Peter looked betrayed and Angela looked vindicated for some odd reason. His cover was blown and they knew he was in cahoots with Sylar. And the old bat found some sick satisfaction of being the one to expose their partnership. In hindsight, maybe all those flippant comments he directed towards her were a little harsh and uncalled for. They certainly didn't help him in his attempts to keep her quiet.
"You tell me where the hell my daughter is!" Noah demanded as it took him every ounce of strength to keep from hitting the man before him.
"I don't know," Matt said for the billionth time. He made the mistake of looking at Sandra. Her broken expression was what he couldn't handle. She was still reeling with mixed emotions of guilt and anger from Claire's betrayal. Not that he agreed with her assessment; she didn't betray Sandra. Claire was looking out for herself and, with proof that Danko followed them here, she made the right one. Sandra betrayed Claire by being selfish. Who would have thought that between Sandra and Sylar, he would be the noble one, the unselfish one when it came to Claire? He sure in hell didn't think so.
"Noah," Sandra intervened, "he doesn't know anything."
"How could you team up with my brother's killer?" Peter demanded. "How could you—"
"I was looking out for Claire's best interest! Sylar is the only one who managed to—"
"Shut up!" Noah yelled as he didn't want to be reminded of his numerous failures to find his own daughter. He also had no desire to listen to Parkman sing Sylar's praises either.
"It's the truth," Matt told the irate father. "He did in hours what we couldn't do in weeks. Do you realize how much anguish and torment we could have spared Claire if you would have listened to me from the very beginning and released Sylar from that prison—" He felt the pain from Peter's punch that he should have seen coming.
"That prison was my brother, you bastard!" Peter punched him again. "That animal murdered my brother and pranced around like him—"
"You can thank Mommy dearest for that one." He was surprised when Noah pulled Peter away from hitting him again.
"He's right," Noah confirmed. "We did what needed to be done."
"What?" Peter said in shock. He still couldn't accept the duplicity of his mother and Noah in covering his brother's death.
"We needed Sylar to clean up Nathan's mess," Angela said. "And I couldn't let go of Nathan..."
"He was Sylar the whole time. How could you... I can't..." Peter held up his hands as he made a frustrated noise in his throat and walked into the master bedroom to get away from the insanity that consumed the room.
"How did you stay in contact with each other?" Noah said focusing his attention back to his interrogation.
"You might have heard of it," Matt said sarcastically. "It's called a phone."
"Where's yours?" Noah demanded as they searched his person and his belongings. His phone records showed no unusual numbers outside of the people in the room and Janice.
"He gave me a burner phone."
"Where is it?"
"Where do you think?" Matt said in a belittling tone. "I deleted the call logs and text messages before I tossed it in the kitchen trash."
Noah walked to the kitchen and dug around in the garbage searching for the phone. He retrieved it and started looking through the contacts and call logs. He wasn't surprised to see it empty. Sylar trained his lackey well and used phones that couldn't be traced and could be easily ditched when needed. Noah knew that even if there was a retrievable number, Sylar would have ditched his phone as soon as Matt let him know he was caught. Noah gave Angela a look and waited for her and Sandra to leave the room. "How could you do that to Claire?" Noah asked. "Leaving her with her stalker."
"You don't get it."
"Get what?"
"He cares about her."
"He's obsessed with her!"
"Maybe in the past, but not today," Matt defended Sylar. "He's trying to keep her safe."
"And who's going to protect her from him!" Noah asked, practically screaming.
"Let's be frank here Noah," Matt said as he leaned towards the older man. "There are two things that Claire needs protection from: the first being Danko and the second being her fucked-up family. All in all, I think he's doing a great job of keeping her from those two things, don't you think?" Noah's fist collided with his face. He rubbed his jaw and silently cursed in his head.
"Where is he!"
"Read my lips, you moronic buffoon: I. DO. NOT. KNOW!" Matt dodged his fist and shoved the other man away from his personal space. "Sylar kept me in a 'need-to-know' basis for plausible deniability. I never knew where he was; I just followed his instructions and kept him reprieved of what was happening here."
"You were his mole."
"I was protecting Claire," Matt said. "After the break-in at your home, we both thought that Danko would be following you, waiting for you to lead him back to Claire. Surprise, surprise, you played straight into Danko's hands like the jackass you are!" The next punch collided with his stomach, then his face. Matt let out a curse as he felt his nose break.
"Keeping tabs on us, that was your only responsibility?"
"I was going to meet up with Sylar to watch over Claire so he could hunt for Danko."
"When?"
"Something came up that put a wrench in his plan."
"What happened?"
"Your wife happened," Matt said. "Sylar contacted me, stating he was going to give me the coordinates to meet up with him. He wanted to go after Danko but had no intention of stringing Claire and Sandra along for the ride. I was going to watch over the ladies. But first Sandra had to start behaving—"
"What did she do?"
"Apparently Sandra was being a grade A bitch," Matt informed him. "Sylar couldn't trust her to be alone because she kept trying to call you."
"Because she knows that I could protect our daughter."
"No, you couldn't," Matt responded quickly. "You couldn't stop Sylar or Danko. Danko was always ten steps ahead of us and even knew our every movement while he was recovering from getting his stomach sliced open by Sylar. You couldn't protect Claire. You couldn't even get out from under Danko's thumb."
"Where was the rendezvous point?"
"I didn't have one," Matt replied honestly. "Sandra couldn't stop being problematic long enough for Sylar to give me the coordinates. He didn't trust her enough for him to move on to the next step in his plan."
"What was the plan? Go team up with the good buddy that gave him all those shiny new abilities?"
"No, not even close," Matt defended Sylar's honorable intentions. "The plan was always the same. Take Claire from Danko. Protect and mend Claire. Give Claire to me for protection. Then kill Danko. One plan with four stages but with your wife, he couldn't get past the second stage."
Noah sat down on the couch to absorb all this information. Apparently his wife contacting him was the worst thing in the world. If she was still with them, she could monitor the situation. And from what Sandra briefly told him of her time with Sylar and their daughter, they really needed a chaperon to keep them apart. Now who would be there to stop Claire from being a victim of Stockholm Syndrome?
Matt chuckled as he read Noah's thoughts. "You know, in order for that to be true, Sylar would have to be Danko, right?"
"Get out of my head."
"Gladly," Matt said as he stood up but was quickly pushed back down.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me where my daughter is."
"I just told you a million—Jesus, Sylar was right," Matt mumbled.
"Right about what?"
"For a smart guy, you're really stupid." Matt willingly took another punch with a smile as he wondered if Sylar had this much fun messing with Noah's head.
Four Seasons, St. Louis, MO
They were asleep, exhausted from the day. Claire turned over in Sylar's arms and snuggled closer to his body as his shirt, which she had worn to bed, rode up to her stomach. She smiled as she inhaled her favorite smell in the whole world. She wished she could bottle it and have his scent with her always. He was more attentive to her today as he complied with her every whim, anything that would bring a smile to her face. After they first checked into the Four Seasons, he took her to the gift shop and had her smell every bath product and purchased the ones she loved the most. When they got to the room, he drew her a bath with the vanilla bath salts. The tub was huge and was clearly meant for two and for a brief second, her heart wished he would have joined her. But her head knew otherwise, he was drawing that line in the sand again. He was repeatedly redrawing that line over the course of that past week. Especially with her mother's hawk eyes on her. Thoughts and desires swarmed her heart as she saw him less as her hero and more like the attractive man that he was... if only she could get him to stop being so noble and gentlemanly. She lied there, soaking in the tub, as she wondered how much effort it would take to get past his guard to kiss him. Claire Bennet realized that she never wanted a man as much as she wanted Sylar. She wanted him to see her as a woman and not a fragile soul. She wanted him to want her. But most of all, she wanted to feel his lips on her and know if he tasted as wonderful as he smelled.
"Go to sleep," a rough voice said as he pulled her even closer and kissed the crown of her head.
She stilled. Did he read her thoughts? Could he read her thoughts? She knew that he spent a lot of time with Matt when he was believed to be Nathan. Did he empathize with Matt to obtain his ability? She felt his hands on her waist and stilled her body.
"For the love of all things holy in this godforsaken world, can you please stop wiggling?" he asked her.
She looked into his eyes and hoped that they were cloudy with desire more so than with sleep. "Huh?" she asked and mentally berated herself for choosing that moment to revert back to a teenager that couldn't speak when looking at her crush. Why couldn't I say something sexier than 'huh?' He must think I'm an idiot. Because you are an idiot, Claire! His hands tightened their hold on her body.
"Please stop moving or I'm going to have to move to the couch."
She couldn't stop the hurt from showing on her face. Why would he leave her like this? Her leg shifted and that's when she felt it as she heard a tiny hiss. Her eyes widened with the discovery and her heart soared. He did find her attractive! But how can she use this to her advantage? Why do I have to be so inexperienced in the art of seduction? Then I wouldn't be talking to myself right now but, instead, would be focusing on using this moment to my advantage. Focus, Claire. Just look at him and wing it. She looked up at him and swore she saw his face moving closer to hers. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of their first kiss when he seemed to realize what was happening as well. Her heart broke a little when he pulled away from her completely.
"Where are you going?" She hated that her voice sounded so weak.
"I thought I heard something."
"Oh," she said, her tone implied she didn't believe him as she watched him climb out of bed. The tears welling in her eyes took away the view of his underwear-clad body walking away from her. She wanted to kick herself for the stupid tears that took that away from her as well. For the first time since leaving her at Junction City, she wished her mother was here to help her figure out these emotions that were coursing through her body. The tears fell when she realized Sandra wouldn't care and tell her to stop it or something because he was the devil. And the devil won't love her back. Maybe my mother and Danko were right. He doesn't care about me; he just doesn't want anyone else to have me. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard a noise. She drew the covers closer to her body as she pulled down his shirt to cover more of her body.
"What are you doing in here!" Sylar's authoritative voice demanded.
"Danko found us!" her inner voice screamed as her body crippled with the knowledge of her kidnapper outside of the door.
"I'm sorry, sir," a feminine voice said. "Your wife said you would be out and to just let myself in."
"My wife said what?"
Claire relaxed as she walked into the main room. Relief flooded her body to see Sylar addressing the maid. Claire had completely forgotten that she had the laundry service wash all the clothes they brought on the impromptu shopping spree this afternoon. Sylar had gone with her to every store with the exception of Victoria's Secret. He mumbled something about not wanting to know her secret as he went to the luggage store across from it to buy baggage. She was starting to feel more comfortable in her own skin to wear her own clothes and not Sylar's. The clothes weren't tight or revealing, but they were at least hers which made her feel braver and stronger.
"Your wife instructed me to bring your laundry into the room," the frightened worker explained. "She said that it would be okay because you'd be out for a late dinner."
"She's right, honey," Claire said as she made her presence known. "I thought we'd be out of the room, not napping from the long day." She smiled at the terrified woman, "I'm sorry..." Claire looked at her name tag, "Janelle. I forgot to tell my husband. I honestly thought we wouldn't be in when the clothes were ready."
Sylar looked between the two women and broke out into a hearty laughter as he sunk down on the couch. He was too stressed that he couldn't resist the bouts of laughter from escaping when he realized that was ready to kill this woman over laundry.
Claire just smiled down at him as she watched the tension leave his body. She looked back at the confused woman before her, "I apologize for my husband. He's been under a lot of stress lately with his job."
"It's okay," Janelle told the other woman. "My girl is just the same."
"Sylar, be a good host for two seconds while I find your—"
"It's on the end table in the bedroom." He directed her to the object in question. When the hell did we start completing each other's sentences?
"Thanks," Claire flashed them a bright smile as she retrieved the wallet. She pulled out a twenty and handed it to Janelle.
"The laundry fee will be on the bill. You pay it when—"
"It's your tip."
"That's too much!"
"He scared the life out of the both of us," Claire said pointing to Sylar who had a devilish grin on his face. "It's not enough if you ask me."
"Thank you," she said. "You are very generous, and I'll share it with Jim who helped with the laundry." She quickly walked out of the suite and away from the now-laughing couple. Janelle took one last look at the lovely exchange before exiting the suite.
Sylar looked at her and stopped laughing. He gave her a big genuine smile that made her heart melt and her knees go weak. She sat down on the coffee table and felt that familiar pull.
"We should probably get back onto the road," Sylar said.
"It's seven," she pointed out. "Can't we at least stay the night?"
"We've been napping since two," he told her. "I'm feeling refreshed and I would still like to put more distance between us and them."
"I'm just asking for one night, and besides," she told him, "I'm starving."
"You're hungry?" he asked with disbelief laced in his tone.
"Yeah," she said, "and I want to eat something."
"Then let's get dressed and find someplace to eat." His smile was big and contagious. Who knew something so small would make him this happy? But then again, this would be the first meal that didn't involve negotiations, emotional bribery, or promises of force-feeding.
"Wait," she said as she placed her hand on his forearm. "Not yet. I want to give you something first." She walked quickly into her room and came out with the Victoria's Secret bag.
"I already told you that I don't want to know her secret," he told her with an impish grin and his hands held up as if he was surrendering.
"I already took out all the secrets," she told him. "I used this bag to keep you from snooping."
He pretended to look offended as he lowered his hands. "I think you're confusing me with you, sweetheart, because you're the snoop in this relationship."
Her heart skipped a beat when he said relationship and her breath caught in her throat. She really wished there would be another shift in their relationship. She pulled out a small black box.
"You're not proposing are you?" he asked her, an eyebrow raised as he gestured towards the box. "Because that's my thing."
Her damn heart skipped a few more beats. Even though she knew he was teasing, it still affected her more than she wanted to admit. "Not proposing," she said. "I saw this at the window today and it made me think of you."
She held out the box for him and he noted that he had never felt this nervous before in his life. His hand was shaking a little when he took the box from her outstretched hand. He really hoped she didn't notice because never his in life did someone buy him something before that it made them think of him. He opened the box and saw a sterling silver St. Jude's medallion on a matching chain. "St. Jude," he said as he looked at her. "Which one of us is the loss cause here?"
"Neither," she said as he took it from his hands and put it on him. "He is known as the patron saint of loss causes or impossible causes." She placed her hand on the medallion as it rested on his heart. "St. Jude's help was sought out when all hope was lost. It was usually when someone was gravely ill or in a life-and-death situation. When his help is called upon, it's usually the last resort and his aid comes at the last moment."
"Claire," he started to say but was silenced when she put her finger on his lips. It took all his restraint not to kiss that tiny finger.
"That's what you did for me," Claire confessed to him. "In the eleventh hour, when all hope was lost, I opened my eyes and there you were standing over me." She didn't realize she was crying until she felt his fingers wiping the tears from her face. She moved off the table and sat on his lap as she straddled him. She cradled his face in her hands and felt his hands slide up her thighs before they rested on her hips. "I had given up and known that I was going to die by his hands. My fathers and my uncle couldn't find me. I thought that they had given up on me as well."
"They would never—"
"I know that now," she told him as she caressed his face. "But Danko had broken me, broken my spirit. I craved death to escape the nightmare that became my existence. In the same moment I had given up, you had appeared. I need you to know this, Sylar, and it's very important that you do."
"You have my undivided attention."
"You were a bad man," she felt his face move before she saw it. She pulled him back to look at her. "You made mistakes, just like the rest of us. You're only human. But I see the good in you as well, Sylar. You have changed whether you want to admit it or not. I see you. I see all of you. You think that, because of who you were, you don't deserve to be anything but the villain. But you're not that man anymore. You're not that Sylar anymore. You're my Sylar. I can still see that spark of Gabriel Gray in you, the man that Cassie adored so much. You thought he died, but he didn't. He's still in there because he's a part of you, like Sylar is a part of him."
"I don't deserve your kindness." He took her hands away from his face and held onto them.
"You've more than earned it, Sylar," Claire retorted as she turned her hands to intertwine her fingers with his. "You deserve it. Please see the man I see today because you're not the same man who killed Nathan. You've changed, and I'm not sure if it's because you were forced to live his life for three years or if what happened to me awakened the gentle and kind soul that is still thriving inside of you."
"I'm not—"
"And that doesn't mean you're not a badass either," Claire assured him, "but you stopped living so selfishly and embraced all of you."
"I don't deserve any part of you," he told her in all honesty.
"Whenever you believe that line of bullshit, I want you to look at this," she let go of his hands and slid them up his stomach to rest on his chest, where the medallion was. What she didn't know was that there were goosebumps her touch left in its wake. "And remember the impossible causes that brought us here to this place and know that if everything else in this world makes you think differently, know these two true facts: Claire Bennet knows you are worth your salt. Claire Bennet knows you deserve more than me."
"Claire, it's me that doesn't deserve you."
She grabbed one of his hands and rested it on the medallion again as she covered his hand with hers. "Weren't you paying attention, my dear?" she asked with a small smile. "Claire Bennet knows you deserve more than me. More than my broken soul."
"Il mio bell'angelo," he whispered in Italian. "You may be broken, but I can fix you, my beautiful angel."
His fingers brushed a few stray hairs from her face when she felt that pull again as she inched closer to him, licking her lips as her heart raced. She was finally going to kiss him. When their lips were centimeters from touching, her stomach growled, ruining the mood.
Sylar pulled back laughing, "I think you're hungry."
Claire closed her eyes as she felt his lips on her forehead. She could feel the vibrations from his laughter. Before she could lose her nerve, she kissed him. ...Well she tried to, but miscalculated and her lips ended up kissing the corner of his mouth. She smiled when she heard his breath hitch before she felt him slap her ass. "Hey!" she said pulling back.
"I'm getting hungry too," he told her. "And I'm pretty sure all the restaurants here have a dress code that requires more clothes than a t-shirt and underwear.
Claire was about to protest when her stomach growled again. She succumbed to the fact that the moment was lost and as she climbed off his lap, she took comfort in knowing that he wanted to kiss her as well. Now, what can she do to create that moment again? She let out a squeal when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
"Jesus, woman, I'm starving and you walk too damn slow!"
"Well, some of us don't have frick'n giraffe legs!" Her remark earned her another swat in the butt. "Hey!" she protested as she reached down and slapped his behind as well. "Ow!" she cried out as her hand tingled from the impact. "You have to teach me how to hit, so it hurts you and not me!"
"Somehow, I just don't quite see how that would benefit me at all!" He laughed as she felt her hand slap his ass again before she cussed. He dropped her on the bed as he grabbed the bag he had carried telekinetically behind him and set it down next to her. He watched as she grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom to change. His thoughts drifted to Matt and he hoped the other man was okay. He hadn't heard from him yet and was certain that Noah wasn't going to be very forgiving after he discovered that Matt was working with him. Sylar was tempted to go back for Matt, but when he heard Claire in the bathroom, he knew he couldn't risk her safety.
Junction City, KS
Matt could feel his left eye starting to swell shut and his fat bottom lip starting to bleed. The knock on the door interrupted Noah's interrogation as the maid service came to change the sheets in the master bedroom. Matt was quickly pushed into the bathroom by Noah as Peter went to the suite door.
"Don't you dare make a sound," Noah threatened as he slammed the door behind him.
Matt knew he didn't have much time to search. Sylar left something behind for him to find and this was the only room he hadn't searched in before Angela shared her vision with the world. He let out a small laugh, remembering that the big vision was of Sylar and himself in suits. Sylar was nervous as Matt had put his hand on the other man's shoulder to comfort him. There was music that drew their gazed forward as Sylar's nervous smile turned into a deliriously happy grin. What the hell did it mean? He didn't care to know. He just wished his partnership with Sylar would have been revealed in a more ass-kicking vision than them in a church... Oh, that's why Bennet flipped out. But Angela couldn't see the bride; it might not have been the young Bennet girl.
Matt quickly searched the cabinets and came up empty. He searched every unusual place he could think of but came up empty every time. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the toilet. "No," he thought to himself, "it couldn't have been that easy." He lifted the top off of the tank and found nothing. He replaced the lid and sat on the toilet, ready to give up, when he noticed something at the corner of his eye. Placed strategically in the trash was a mobile phone that looked like the one he threw away earlier and an envelope with the hotel's logo on it. "Genius," Matt praised his partner, "you hide it in plain sight." He shoved the phone in his pocket and tore open the note. The first thing that surprised him was that Sylar had called him by his Christian name and not by a famous dog's name. That had to mean something right?
Matthew,
If my calculations are correct, the old bitch finally figured out our connection. If not, then here is your back-up phone for when she does. Hide it well, because we both know it's coming. I want you to know that I'm sorry for threatening your son. I'm pretty sure that I had no intention of harming your boy. I just needed you to believe it so you would work with me to find Claire. I was so desperate to find her, to free her from Danko, and I didn't think you would help with me willingly. So I threatened Mattie. Because any man worth his salt would do anything to protect his family. I truly apologize for that and I am going to do what I should have done from the beginning: give you a choice.
Will you help me to protect Claire?
If you choose to do so, it will not be an easy task. Her family with not be so 'hospitable' when they figure out our connection. If you choose to part ways, I understand and no harm will come to you or your family. Your debt has been paid in full. For the past seven nights, I have stayed awake just watching Claire sleep safe and secure in my arms. Your aid did that, so I will be forever in your debt.
Please contact me at this phone number (555-987-1234) with your decision. If you decide to continue helping Claire, the number will remain. If you decide you're out, I'll ditch the phone. It's nothing against you, but my core priority has always her safety.
Please take good care of Sandra. She tries to hide it, but I see what the pain of leaving Sandra behind did to Claire. If you're watching over her, it might alleviate some of Claire's pain.
Sylar
Matt reread the letter and could not believe that this was the same man from one week ago. Somehow, Claire Bennet had done the impossible: she took the cold-hearted killer and made a man out of him. He quickly dialed the number and Sylar answered after one ring. "I'm in," was all that he said.
"Wait for instructions," the other man told him. "And Matthew—"
"Matt," he corrected.
"Thank you, Matt."
The line went dead immediately as Matt made sure the phone was on vibrate and deleted the number before hiding the phone inside his right boot. He quickly memorized the number and put the letter and envelope in the toilet and flushed. Thirty seconds later, Noah entered the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, should I have asked your permission to take a shit?" Matt said sarcastically as he threw the towel on the floor after he dried his hands. He was prepared this time for the sucker punch in his stomach.
"Where the hell is my daughter!"
"You seriously need to change your tone, because no matter how many times you ask that, the answer will always remain the same: I do not know!" Noah sucker punched him hard in the kidney.
3 days later—Thursday, Edenton, NC
It was sunrise when a weary Sylar pulled into his home in Edenton, NC. It was in a gated country club community with a view of the ocean. He remembered purchasing it shortly before he made the fateful trip to DC and ended up wearing Nathan Petrelli's face.
He looked over at his beautiful travel companion. She was asleep with her body tucked into his and it made him smile. The strong urge to kiss her lips as a gentle wakeup call coursed through his system. He sat there for a few minutes as he tried to take control of his emotions. Claire could never feel anything for him but contempt and he really needed to stop wanting to kiss her. But he couldn't help himself; there was this indescribable pull that kept drawing him back to her. Never in his existence did he have to practice this much constraint and control, but he really wanted to feel his lips on hers. Would she taste like vanilla? Or something else...? He pictured Sandra Bennet's scowling face and was able to rid himself of these impure thoughts for the moment. He wanted to carry her to the house without waking her but she stirred when she felt his body shift.
"Where are we?" she asked as she rubbed her tired eyes and looked around.
"Home."
Home. Her eyes landed on a greenish-gray, modestly-sided, two-story house that was hidden among the trees. She looked to her left and saw the garage. It was beautiful. She accepted his hand and let him pull her out of the car. She heart fluttered when he continued to hold onto her hand as she brought her free hand to rest on the inside of his elbow. They walked into the house and laughed when he picked her up to carry his 'bride' over the threshold. Her eyes gazed over the home. She barely registered him talking about having a cleaning crew out before they arrived.
"It has three bedrooms and two and half bathrooms," he told her. "One is in the master bedroom and the other is upstairs. The half bath is over there," he gestured with head as he set her down. "There is a loft above the garage. I think it was used as a guest house because it has a kitchen with a full bathroom as well."
"It's beautiful," she whispered as she looked around at the California redwood, hardwood floors, stone fireplace with a soaring stone chimney, cathedral ceilings with exposed beams. The view was incredible as one wall had windows as tall as the door and very wide that showed the ocean, and had a sliding door and patio. In the distance she could see a dock in the water.
"It's surreal, isn't it?" he asked her as he grabbed her hand and toured the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom. Then, they went downstairs where he showed her the study that had one littered with books on their shelves with a beautiful view of the ocean. She could also see a tall oak tree with a tire swing. Claire could picture Sylar in here reading as she was outside pushing a little boy of the swing. He pulled her out of her the room and to the kitchen. It had stainless steel appliances and an island in the middle. She was excited to see the gas stove and wondered if Sylar would disapprove her roasting marshmallows over it even though they had a fire place.
"I love it."
"One more room, then we'll roam around outside," he told her. "It's a gated community, so it will provide that added protection of rent-a-cops. We have a privacy fence for our neighbors and I have installed a security system as well. Remind me to give you the pass code and keys. There's also a country club if you're into that pretentious crap."
"Not a fan?" she asked as she continued to soak in her surroundings.
"Nope."
He pulled her into the master bedroom and she stopped in her tracks. "Oh my..." The master bedroom had its own fireplace and private patio with a sliding door that lead straight to the ocean. Her eyes landed on the king size bed and wondered why they would ever need so much space. Suddenly, an image of a lazy morning snuggled up in bed with Sylar as he read to her came into her mind. The image changed and she could picture a little boy and girl with their father's milk chocolate eyes, snuggled up with them as Sylar read. She brought her hand to her chest and wondered what it meant, that she could see a future with this man.
"You okay?" he asked her as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"Yeah," she said as she leaned into his embrace. She stayed like that for a few minutes before she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the house. "It's just so beautiful. Have you ever seen something so beautiful before?" she asked him as she stared into the sunrise over the water.
"No," he said, not really hearing her question as he was mesmerized by her smile.
Claire felt his eyes on her and could feel the blush forming on her cheeks. She looked up at him and wished she hadn't. The intensity she found in those milk chocolate eyes made her cheeks redder. She closed her eyes when she felt his hand caress her cheek. Oh god, did she want to kiss this man. Opening her eyes, she noticed that his face was getting closer to hers. She could see his lust clouding eyes before he closed them. Closing her eyes again, she attempted to close the distance. The moment she had been waiting for days to happen was in her midst. She smiled as she felt his breath on her face and her heart was beating wildly as it droned out their surroundings.
It had all happened so fast, she wasn't sure what had occurred. One moment she was being cradled in his arms, anxiously waiting for their first kiss, and the next she was tucked into his back as his eyes went to the source of the noise. It took her a few minutes to detox from the missed moment to realize it was a car horn... in the driveway.
"Son of a bitch," he mumbled as he released her. "I'm so sorry, I forgot." He kissed her forehead before taking long strides to the front yard. "I hear you, so lay off the fucking horn!" he screamed at the unknown visitor who complied to his demand.
Claire stood motionless as she waited for the blood to start pumping to her brain so it can tell her limbs to start moving. She looked up to the heavens and wondered if God and his angels were laughing at her. "You really hate me, don't ya?" she asked the clouds. The image of the heavenly hosts falling over in their hysteria caused her pleading look to turn into a harsh glare. She jogged to the front yard in time to see a truck with a trailer pulling out of the driveway. The vehicle left behind was a black Range Rover with Texas plates that Sylar had pulled into the garage. "Do you really need another car?"
"This is for when we meet up with the family," Sylar explained as he walked out of the garage and towards her. "Because there is no way in hell am I letting your father know what car I actually drive or any clues to where I live."
"Why?"
"Because I prefer my home, my car, and most importantly myself not to be set on fire," he told her seriously. "Besides, Matt would prefer the extra leg room."
"Matt... as in Matt Parkman?"
"Yeah."
"What does Matt have to do with anything?"
He opened the passenger door to his Mustang, "Want to come with me?"
"You're dodging my question, Sylar," she confronted him. "You only do that when you know I won't like your answer. We both know I'll drag it out of you eventually. So why don't you save us both the time and just spit it out?"
He groaned as he looked at her. When did this little pixie beside him learn to read him so well? "Matt has been working with me. He's been feeding me information on what your father has been up to and in exchange, I've been giving him information of places I was already at to shift focus on Nathan's lack of presence."
"What?"
Sylar went into the explanation of how Matt was the one who brought him out of the prison he was in and how he was the one who became his mole inside Noah's group. He also shared with Claire on how he threatened little Mattie's life to get Matt's cooperation. Inhaling deeply as he hung his head in shame, he confessed that he was 99.9999% sure he would haven't gone through with it and that it was the remaining .0001% that terrified him, for it was that certain percentage that were the chances he would have killed a baby. He looked at Claire and knew this was it. She was going to slap him hard, call him a monster, and walk out of his life. At least Matt was still in his corner and could take over his protection detail so he could find Danko then. She started to move and his closed his eyes; he couldn't watch the moment that was about to break his heart.
Claire walked up at him. "Look at me." He shook his head no. She cradled his face. "Look at me," she repeated in a quieter, more pleading tone. She inhaled when she saw those broken brown eyes staring down at her. "I know that you wouldn't do that to Mattie," she reassured him. "You're a better man than that—"
"I'm a killer," he told her as he removed her hands from his face. "Please remember that I'm a bad man."
"Why do you insist on telling me that all the time?"
"Because you seem to gloss over the huge fact that I am a bad man!" he explained. "You can try wish away the bad part of me, Claire, or you can ignore it, but you can't make it disappear."
"You're better than who you were, Sylar," she told him with complete determination, "and I will get you to realize it even if it takes me an eternity."
"I'm not worth it—"
"Yes, you are," she cut him off as she poked him in the chest. "And I don't ever want to hear that line of bullshit come from your mouth again. Understood?" She crossed her arms and raised her left eyebrow as she waited for his response, almost daring him to disagree with her.
"Crystal," he said as he cracked a small smile when he realized he was getting the shake down by someone almost a foot shorter than him. "For the record, I gave Matt an out without any repressions on my end."
"He chose to stay didn't he?"
"How did—"
"Because that's what a true hero does."
"You and your heroes," he said with a laugh. He looked at her and tucked some stray strands of hair from her face. "I will be forever in his debt for what he did for you," he whispered. "For us."
It felt like her heart did three backflips when she heard him whisper those last two words. It was in that moment that she knew she was a goner. She didn't know if she was in love with him, but she knew that the pieces of her heart loved this man. "What's going to happen when they find out he's your partner?" Images and scenarios flooded her mind of what might be happening to a faithful friend she didn't know she had, until a moment ago.
"They already know, Shorty," Sylar confessed. "And he's most likely getting his ass kicked right now from your father and possibly from your uncle as well."
"We have to save him," Claire said frantically as she grabbed his hand to pull him towards the Range Rover.
"He knew the price and is willing to take it for your safety, Claire," Sylar said as he pulled her back towards him. "We can't go. Matt told me he was discovered. I gave him an out. He chose to stay, to continue what we started."
"But Sylar..." her voice trailed off as she felt him wipe her unnoticed tears away.
"I know. Trust me, I tried to find a way," he said as he hugged her.
"But?"
"If we went back unprepared, Matt's sacrifice would be in vain and Danko wins."
"I hate this." She held on tighter as she tried to wish away the horrific images in her head as she vowed to make them pay for any harm done against the brave police officer.
"I know," Sylar said, "but it's going to end, because I'm going to find the bastard that put all this into motion. I just need time."
"To plan?"
"I have a plan. It just needs the final touches," Sylar told her. "I just need to prepare you for the fight." He kissed the crown of her head before he released her from his arms. "Starting with a discussion about seeing a therapist and teaching you self defense."
"You're going to teach me to fight?" She couldn't stop the smile that formed. Her father would never show her any fighting techniques. He always believed he could protect her. Boy was he wrong on more than one occasion.
"No," Sylar said immediately as her face dropped, "I'm teaching you self defense. To protect yourself and to get your ass out of the bad situation."
"Sylar—"
"Self defense, Claire," he told her, "to learn how to protect yourself from..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. He pulled her back into his arms as he tried to bury the feelings of helplessness and guilt towards Matt and Claire. Sylar pulled back and looked at her, "Want to come with?"
"Where?"
"We need food," Sylar said, "then I plan on sleeping the day away."
She nodded as she studied his face. The fatigue was clearly seen in his face as he was up for the past 72 hours, driving. A huge part of her just wanted to force him inside to take a long nap as she cared for him. But she knew the stubborn ass before her would never rest when he was determined to do something. With a wicked grin, she deliberately brushed against him when she slid into the car. A spark flooded her senses with that innocent brush and the sudden intake of breath from her companion told her she wasn't the only one that felt it. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, his feelings were running wild like hers.
She's not making it easy for me, is she? He asked himself as he got into the car. The whole ride to the store he kept trying to remind himself why he couldn't act on his growing feelings for the now petite brunette who was curled up next to him.
Friday
Claire laid tangled in Sylar's arms and legs as she ran her fingers through his shortened locks. She had awakened a few minutes ago from a dream... a very good dream that also terrified her. She wondered how much of Disney's Cinderella was true—was a dream really a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep?
(Claire's dream)
Claire was standing in front of a mirror finishing the final touches of her Halloween costume as she put the black headband in her long blonde locks. She was dressed as Alice, from Alice in Wonderland.
"Mama, are you ready yet?" The mirth could be heard his in tone.
"I'm almost ready," she said.
"Because me and the Cheshire Cat here are worried that if you don't move your pretty little a-s-s along, there won't be any candy left for him."
"Don't you dare swear in front of our son!" a wide-eyed Claire turned to see Sylar dressed as the Mad Hatter, holding their son who was dressed as the Cheshire Cat.
"Well, technically, I didn't swear in front of him—I spelled."
She rolled her eyes as she pulled their almost-three-year-old son into her arms, "So he can learn how to swear by spelling—yeah, I don't see any flaws in that plan." The sarcasm was laced heavily in her tone.
"Mama," her son giggled.
The dream fast forwarded to Claire and Sylar walking as they each held onto one of their kid's hands.
"Okay, sweetie, do you remember what—"
"Jesus, Claire," Sylar reprimanded her. "He's my kid, which means he's a frick'n genius, so of course he knows what to do when it comes to trick-or-treating."
"Frick'n!" the little boy squealed as he echoed his father.
"Great. Nice one, dear."
Sylar groaned as he knelt down by his son, "Of all the words I strung together to form that sentence, you pick that one to repeat!"
"Frick'n," he said laughing at his daddy.
"Please restrain yourself kid, or else Mama is not going to let Daddy have any fun tonight."
"Mama, no! Daddy's good! Let him have fun!" the clueless boy defended his father. He stood in front of his mother, wide-eyed, as he shook his head from side to side.
"Yeah, Claire," Sylar repeated with a wicked grin. "Let Daddy have fun." He waggled his eyebrows to let her know just what type of funhe had in mind.
Claire didn't think she could be any more humiliated until she heard someone clear their throat and looked up at their elderly neighbor holding a bowl of candy, waiting for her trick-or-treater.
"Oh my God," she covered her face, completely mortified, as Sylar pulled her into his arms. She could feel his chuckle vibrating from his chest as their little boy took the five steps to the front door.
"Trick or Treat, Miss June," he said with a huge grin as sweets went into his bag. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome, dear," Miss June smiled down at the little boy.
Claire felt a tug on her arm and looked at her son.
"See Mama, I'm a frick'n genius like Daddy!" he beamed with pride.
"No honey," she told him, "your daddy's a complete idiot!"
"No! Daddy's a frick'n genius!" The small boy stubbornly defended his father's honor.
"I concur with your mother assessment." He noted his son's confused face and rephrased, "I agree with Mama: I'm an idiot." Sylar could hear June laughing in the background.
"I still love you, Daddy," he wrapped his tiny arms around his father's neck, grinning widely at him.
"I love you, too."
She smiled as she remembered the dream and wondered if her dream would ever come true. Sylar was so guarded with her that she could feel the Berlin wall that he placed between them. Did he lose interest in her? Was it what those men did to her that made her unappealing to him? Why didn't he want her anymore?
Sylar stirred as he felt her fingers in his hair and oh god did it feel good. He opened his eyes and the first thing his eyes focused on was her smiling face and those lips. The overwhelming urge to kiss those lips consumed him. He pulled away from her in hopes that putting distance between them would erase those impulses. The brief flash of hurt on her face made him want to close the distance... But he couldn't. He had to keep them as far apart as he could. Claire was confused; she didn't really want him and when this nightmare was over, she would be grateful nothing ever happened. "We should get up. You're first appointment is today and it's about a forty-five minute drive to the therapist's office."
"Yeah," she said as she watched him walk away from her again. Is the thought of being with me that hideous?
Elizabeth City, NC
Claire sat nervously in the waiting room as she pretended to read a magazine. She felt his hand squeeze hers before he laced their fingers together.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered.
"I'm not nervous."
"Sure you're not." His tone told her he didn't believe her at all.
"I'm not!" she insisted as she pulled her hand away.
"You're reading a hunting-and-fishing magazine."
"So?" she looked up at him. Just because she was a girl didn't mean killing animals doesn't interest her.
"Upside down."
She looked down and realized he was right. She threw the magazine back on the table and rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay, I'm nervous. Is that a crime?" She felt him kiss the crown of her head before resting his head on hers.
"No," he whispered.
"Claire Grey?" a middle-aged, brown-haired, and blue-eyed woman asked.
Claire shook her head at her new name. Did Sylar honestly believe by spelling his last name with an 'e' instead of an 'a' that no one searching from them would figure it out? He's been running long than you can remember, maybe he knows how to keep a low profile. A sarcastic voice in her head reminder her. Sylar kept her safe this long; it made no sense to start doubting him now. "That's me," she said as lifted her head and felt Sylar take her hand and give it a squeeze.
"I'll be here waiting for you," he promised her as he gave into the urge and kissed her cheek. "For luck," he told her surprised face.
She gave him her best brave smile and walked over to the woman. She shook the woman's outstretched hand.
"I'm Jen Keller," she told her. "It's nice to meet you."
"Yeah," Claire mumbled as she took one last look at Sylar, who gave her an encouraging smile, before following Jen into her office. A floral smell hit her when she entered the office. She sat on the couch across from Jen who had placed her pad of paper in front of her with her pen in hand. "I'm scared."
"It's okay," Jen said. "People come to therapy for various reasons. We go at your pace and we will work towards achieving the goals we set for you."
"Goals?"
"What are you hoping that I can help you with?"
"I'm scared."
Jen leaned forward and repeated, "You're scared."
"Yeah," Claire said, "I'm scared of everything and I just want to go back to living."
"You're scared of everything."
"That's what I just said," Claire said, frustrated. "Is this all you're going to do, just repeat everything I say? Because, if that's the case I could just go talk to a parrot."
"Are you scared of the man who brought you here?"
"What? No!" Claire said. "He's the one person I'm not terrified of."
"What makes him different from everyone else?"
"He saved me."
"From what?"
"I was kidnapped by a very bad man who wanted revenge on my fathers and Sylar."
"How old were you when your fathers adopted you?"
"Huh?" Claire furrowed her brows. "You misunderstand. My mother and father adopted me when I was a baby. I just recently found my biological parents in the past five years. They both past away since I found them."
"I'm sorry for the mix-up," Jen said sincerely. "Is Sylar the man outside?" Claire nodded. "What is his relationship with you?"
"He's... he's my Sylar." Claire took a deep breath. "My biological father is a politician... was a politician. He did something horrible and my adoptive father helped him. He was working with this man—"
"Sylar?"
"No. Danko." It hurt to say his name. "My fathers pulled the plug on this government sanction project. Danko was already crazy but he went off the deep end when the project was shut down. He said my fathers and Sylar ruined his career and his life."
"That's a pretty strong accusation he made against them."
"Danko was a bad man," Claire said, "and they were just trying to stop him from hurting people."
"They sound like brave men."
"Sylar is," Claire corrected. "My fathers were just cowards. I can't tell you why; it's classified." That's the best lie you could think of? 'It's classified?' ...Well, I guess that, technically, it is.
"Where does Sylar fit into this?"
"My whole family hates Sylar," Claire told the therapist. "He was a bad man a few years back but he changed. Sylar is a retrieval specialist. I can't explain him or what he does. Nor can I explain the way he thinks, the way he sees the world, or the way he is able to do what he does. He's that person you call when something precious was taken from you and you want it back."
"So he worked with your fathers on this special project."
"No," Claire said, "he worked against my fathers to destroy it because it was wrong. He worked with Danko on the inside. Danko felt played."
"And you?"
"I was the one common link between the three of them," Claire said. "Danko took me and... and..." She broke down into tears and took a Kleenex from the older woman.
"We don't have to go there today," Jen said. "You don't know me. You're not sure if you can trust me."
"I hate them," Claire blurted out. "I hate them so much."
"Who?"
"My dads."
"Why?"
"I'm mad at Nathan for what he did to create this mess and I'm mad at my dad for what happened when I was taken." Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"What did your dad do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Jen repeated.
"He claimed that he could find me on his own but he was selfish," Claire said in disgust, "Every decision he made was wrong."
"Why do you say that?"
"He didn't tell my mother for three weeks. She found out when the bastard sent her a video of him," she inhaled as she willed the memory away, "hurting me." She finished as she didn't want to go there. "Sylar's colleague, Matt, wanted my dad to contact Sylar who was..." she paused to think of a good lie that was close to the truth, "on a job at the time. My dad had the means to reach him but didn't even try to reach him." Claire grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. "After three more weeks had passed, Matt disobeyed my father and contacted Sylar."
"What happened?"
"Sylar found me in twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes and he blames himself for taking that long. He blames himself for being taken in the first place because if he was there, he believes he could have prevented it or at least found me while I was still in New York. He blames himself when he should be pissed at my father for not doing anything!"
"Twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes... That's pretty exact."
"Sylar had it down to the second, but I didn't want to know."
"Why?"
"Because if my father had contacted Sylar from the beginning, all the bad things wouldn't have happened. Danko had me for six weeks, twelve hours, and thirty-seven minutes. Twelve hours after the abduction nothing had happened yet. He didn't stab me, beat me, carve into my skin like a canvas, and I wasn't gang raped by men he had convinced that they were auditioning for a pornographic movie!" She jumped up from the couch, "Sylar could have saved me from all of that if my father wasn't an egotistical bastard and would have just sucked in his pride to think about me! But he didn't! And horrible things happened to me because of it! He never loved me, because if he did, Sylar would have found me sooner! Because that's who he is, that's what he does! He finds things, no matter how hard they are hidden!" Claire collapsed on the sofa and started crying.
Jen handed her the box of tissues and Claire grabbed a few.
"Sylar," Claire whispered. "I love him and I'm not allowed to."
"Because your family hates him?"
"Because I'm broken," Claire cried. "He knows I'm damaged and he won't ever love me again. Did I tell you that before this happened, he basically told me that he loved me? That when he sees his future, I'm there with him? But now... he's keeping his distance. I don't blame him. I'm not that fiery, feisty fighter he loves... I'm damaged."
"Does he know what happened?"
"He knows almost everything," Claire whispered. "He discovered it all when he was searching for me. Now, he treats me like a disease."
"I don't believe that," Jen said. "He's here because he cares."
"He's protecting me because Danko hasn't been caught yet."
"He's here because he cares," Jen repeated. "I saw that when he held you in the waiting room. That kiss on your cheek."
"For luck."
"It's because he wanted to, it's because he cares," Jen told her insistently. "People like him that do jobs like he does move onto the next project once the job is over. They don't linger because they do not get emotionally involved with whatever 'package' they are sent to retrieve. The fact that Sylar is still here with you, speaks volumes."
"I'm damaged."
"No, you're not," Jen reassured her. "You went through some horrible things that no one should have to endure. But Claire, you survived it."
"It feels like that's all I'm doing—surviving."
"Then we will work on getting you back to living life instead of surviving it."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Claire said as she felt extremely uncomfortable. The floral smells of the office were getting to her.
"Then we won't," Jen said. "There isn't a time frame with therapy. It's moment by moment, day by day."
Claire buried her face in her hands. The continuous tears streaming from her eyes blurred her vision. She inhaled deeply and could smell the floral scents of the office. She wiped her eyes and looked around the gray room, frowning. "What's going on?"
"Claire?"
She turned towards the sound of Jen's voice. It sounded nice but her eyes landed on her nightmare. "No!" She screamed, "How did you find me!"
"Foolish whore," Danko told her. "You know you can't escape me. Now for your punishment for trying to escape me, we will consult our history book and do it like the Romans did."
Jen moved from her chair and sat next to Claire. She tentatively put her hand on Claire's shoulder but she quickly moved away from the therapist. "Claire," she whispered, "where are you?"
"In that abandoned warehouse," she said through her sobs. "He's wants to crucify me." She quickly stood up to run but couldn't make her legs move. Her body gave out and she landed on the floor.
He threw her against a beam. "First, I'll crucify you for trying to steal my car, and then I'll stone you for being the adulterous whore that you are!"
"Please don't," she sobbed, "I promise to behave. I'll do anything!"
He punched her in the face. "Doing anything is what made you a whore! I mean, come on, having sex with three men at the same time." He made a repeated 'tsk' sound.
"You had them rape me, you bastard!"
He slapped her across the face. "You loved every moment of it, you whore! And now you'll pay for your transgressions!"
"Please don't hurt me anymore," she begged him.
"Claire!" Jen yelled, "You're not there anymore! Today is October 16th. The year is 2010. You're not there. It's Jen Keller. You're in my office. We're in Elizabeth City, North Carolina."
"You're just lucky Sylar's dead," he told her as he stretched her arm against the beam. He held it in place with his knee as he reached for the nail and hammer. "What would he have thought of his virginal Claire giving it up to anyone? He would have gone crazyto know that you just gave up your virtue to random strangers! We both know how much he enjoyed his favorite toy being 'untouched' by anyone but him." He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him, "Tell me, Claire... what did it feel like to have his fingers inside your brain?"
She spit in his face. "You're a monster!"
He slapped her again. "And you're a whore that's about to get what's coming to her. The perfect punishment to fit the crime." He hammered the nail into her left wrist.
Claire let out an ear-piercing scream.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Sylar demanded as he barged through the door.
"Mr. Grey, I have everything under—"
Sylar quickly made his way to Claire and pulled her against his body as she struggled against his hold. "It's okay, I'm here," Sylar told her. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you."
"He's right, Claire," Jen said. "You're in my office in Elizabeth City. Do you remember coming in today?"
Claire inhaled and could smell her favorite scent. She buried her nose in his chest and stopped resisting. "Sylar."
"Hey, beautiful," he whispered as he pulled her closer and kissed her temple.
"I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told her before looking at the therapist, "What the hell happened?" He felt Claire pull away as her hands pulled at the sweatshirt he was wearing. He took it off and helped her put it on. He noticed her inhale deeply before she burrowed back into his body.
"I can't disclose our session."
"Even to her husband?"
"Claire?" Jen asked as she watched her nod her approval of consent. "We'll have you sign the consent form before you leave." Claire nodded again. "We were talking about you and how much her family hates you."
"That's the understatement of the century."
"When she suddenly went into this trance and, wherever she was, Danko was going to crucify her."
"He was here, Sylar," Claire said. "I heard his voice and I can still smell him."
Sylar inhaled and could smell the jasmine mixed in with the floral scents and groaned. He picked up Claire and carried her out of the office.
"Mr. Grey," Jen said as she went after him, "she would be more comfortable in the privacy of my office."
"I highly doubt that," he said as he stopped in the jasmine-free waiting area. "Have a seat, doc, and I'll tell you why Claire can't be in your office without having an episode."
Saturday—Edenton, NC
Claire landed softly on her back again.
"You're even not trying," a disappointed voice said.
"Yes, I am!" she insisted as she let him help her up for the fiftieth time.
"Then why isn't my nose broken and you're flat on your back again?" Sylar chastised her, "Let's start again."
Claire grunted in annoyance and before she knew what has happening, he had wrapped his arms around her tightly and had pulled her towards to his body. She tried to squirm in his arms.
"Stop squirming, it's not helping you," he instructed as he pulled her closer. "You're two seconds away from me—"
Claire stomped hard on his right insole. When his grip loosened, she elbowed him in the nose and could hear the cartilage breaking on contact. His hands were on his nose as she turned around, completely pissed off at him, and kneed him hard in the groin for her own personal benefit. He sucked in a breath and leaned over. Claire took the opportunity to knee him in the nose again and watched triumphantly as he fell over. "Well, Teach, I think I get an A as I appeared to knock you on your ass." She smiled at him.
"You failed," he grunted out as his body healed.
"How?" she asked with a frown. "You told me to knock you on your ass. You're on your ass and back. That has to be extra credit—" She was too busy talking that she didn't see his leg sweep over and knock her down. His weight on her body quickly followed as he grabbed her hands and held them over her head with one hand. "What the—"
"This is why you failed," he told her. "You had me down and you forgot to run away. Instead, you stood there, smug, waiting for me to recover so I could do this to you. Now I have you trapped and I'm completely pissed off for the pain you caused me. This isn't a good combination because I'm really going to hurt you now."
"Oh."
"I'm teaching you how to get away Claire, you had to run away from me."
"I wasn't being smug," she mumbled as she felt him glare at her. "Okay, I was being..." her voice trailed off as she looked at him. He was staring at her and, with his free hand, he caressed her face. She leaned into his touch and wished that he would let go of her hands so she could touch him. Wherever he touched her left that part of her skin on fire. Her breathing increased its speed as she finally realized how close his face was to hers the whole time. All she had to do was lift her head and she could be kissing him. In a moment of bravery, she lifted her head, but before her lips could touch his, he completely pulled away from her.
"What are you doing?" he asked with a surprised wide-eyed stare.
"Trying to kiss you," she pointed out the obvious.
"That's not a self defense move—"
"No, it's what I've wanted to do for days," she cut him off, "and each time, something interrupts us or you pull away. Do you really find me that hideous?"
"What? No, you're beautiful." He confessed quickly as she caught him off guard.
"Then why won't you just give in and kiss me?" she said confidently, "Because I know you want to."
"It's not my place." He quickly stood up.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked him as she pushed herself off the ground.
"You're just confused."
"Confused!"
"Yes, confused," he repeated. "After all that happened, you don't really want me. Your emotions are running wild and I've been helping you. You don't really want me, you just think you do."
"Let me be the judge—"
"You don't know me, Claire." She opened her mouth to retort but he raised his volume to continue, "Because if you did, you wouldn't be pushing this."
"I don't know you? I don't know you!" she repeated, exasperated.
"That's what I said," he replied, "because if you did, you would be running for the hills and would never look back."
"I know you, Sylar," she looked at him, wondering how he could be so jaded. "I do. I know all the bad things you did. I know that you're like me: we were both adopted because we weren't wanted by our biological family. You're angry at the world for what your biological father did to you and your mother, what Martin and Virginia Gray did, what happened to Cassie. You're angry and you're lashing out. You don't think you deserve love because two people who loved you while you were growing up were taken away from you. And the rest of the world tried to control you and make you their puppet."
"Don't..." he begged, he didn't want to relive his life. It was hard enough the first time.
"I know what you did to me, the good and the bad." She stepped closer to him when he stepped away. "I know that you love oranges so much I'm surprised you're orange with the amount you eat in some days, but never have I seen you drink a glass of orange juice."
"Because orange juice is full of sugar and unnecessary crap that makes it disgusting. If I want that vitamin C intake, I'll eat an orange over drinking that crap."
She smiled at his rationale, "Did you talk in your sleep?" She saw briefly panic flood his face as he wondered what he might have said in his sleep. "And last night my heart stopped beating for I have no idea how long because I thought I heard you say you loved me. And I wished you were awake, because if you were, I could have seen your face to know if I heard you correctly. The night before, you went on about how Star Trek was better than Star Wars. Then you said something about Spock being cooler, because Kirk was a man-whore. You're such a Trekkie geek, aren't you?" She gave him a playful smile.
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but couldn't think of how to even begin. This was too intense and too stressful. He just wanted to run away from it, from her. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of how to convince her that she doesn't mean what she's saying.
"I know you pinch the bridge of your nose when you're stressed," she pointed out and smiled when he looked at her, shocked. "That's just a handful of what I learned about you, Sylar, but I do know you."
"Please, Claire, don't."
"You don't want me." She felt the tears forming but was determined to keep them at bay.
"Jesus, Claire, of course!" He stopped and took a deep breath, "You have no idea how much I lo..." He stopped, realizing what he was about to say.
"You what?" she insisted, surprised and curious.
"Never mind," he tried to walk away but a hand on his forearm stopped him.
"You what?" She held her breath wondering if he could admit that he loved her while he was conscious.
"It doesn't matter, Claire, because I don't deserve you or your kindness," Sylar told her.
"If you're too chicken to say it, then I will—I love you."
"No, you don't," he told her. "You can't love me. I'm not—"
"I love you!" she said with absolute certainty. "I'm not in love with you," yet was left unspoken, "but I love you."
"Please, Claire," Sylar pleaded with her. "You can't mean it."
"Just because you're afraid of what's inside your heart doesn't mean that I am," she told him. "I know what I think and I know what I feel."
"I can't go there, Claire."
"Why?"
"Because when this is all over and you have your life back, you'll regret this," he told her. "And I can't put myself out there to wait for you to realize this isn't what you wanted. You will regret this and you'll hate me for taking advantage of you."
"I know I'm inexperienced in the whole art of seduction here, Sylar, but I thought I made it pretty clear that I'd be thrilled if you tried to take advantage of me. Not that you would, because I'm standing in front of you, practically throwing myself at you!"
"He's out there, Claire," Sylar told her as a tear rolled down his cheek. "A man that already has your heart. You just haven't met him yet. He's not me. He's a better man than I could ever be."
"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" she said forcefully as she wiped away the stray tears.
"Well, you make me stupid!" Sylar screamed back at her.
"What?"
"It's the only explanation I can think of," Sylar told her. "Twelve hours, Claire. I'm intellectually superior to that asshole and he outwitted me for twelve hours. All because I couldn't think with my head but my heart; so I must be fucking imbecile!"
"Well I whole-heartedly agree that you're an idiot!" she yelled back at him. "Because that mysterious person you're yammering on about is you," she poked him in the chest. "You're trying to pawn me off to yourself, you dimwit!"
"It can't be me."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a monster!" he said forcefully. "If you don't believe me then ask any member of your family. They will tell you the truth."
"No. You're a man," she told him. "A man I—"
"Please don't say it again."
"—Love."
"Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes were full of tears and he looked broken.
"Me? You're doing this to us," she said. "Or maybe it's me. Maybe you're too disgusted with me because I'm just damaged goods. I'm no longer that virtuous and pure woman you were chasing after before it all happened, and the thought of touching me makes you sick to your stomach. Because Danko was right: I'm just a whore who gave it up to for a..." She couldn't finish that sentence because the thought of it made her want to throw up.
"Don't you dare say that about yourself! I won't let you tear yourself apart like that!" he yelled at her. "You're not damaged goods and you're certainly not a whore!"
"Why not? It's true," she told him. "You know all the bad things that happened to me and you would prefer a woman that isn't so—"
"I'm in love with you, Claire! Are you happy now that I've admitted it!" Sylar yelled back at her. "Every night I fall asleep watching you sleep; savoring every moment because I know it's going to end."
"Why? Why does it have to end?"
"Because that better man will come and take you away from me. And it will destroy me," he told her. "So I'm being selfish towards you by trying so hard to keep my distance from you because I know there's someone out there that is better for you. Someone that isn't a psychotic serial killer. Someone who your family will love and accept as a part of your life. Someone who fits in your life perfectly. And I'll be a blur of memory from this nightmare that you worked so hard to forget. But for me, I'll be stuck haunted by the memories of your kiss, your embrace, your touch, your everything! I'll be ruined because I will no longer have to speculate if you taste like you smell. I'll compare every woman that crosses my path with you. 'Does she smell like vanilla like you do?' 'Does she genuinely laugh at my lame ass jokes like you do?' 'When I kiss her, is it like heaven on earth?' And it will drive me even more insane than I am now because you're it for me, Claire. And when I lose you, I'll lose myself. So I'm going to be a selfish bastard that keeps you at arm's length away to protect myself from when you wake up and realize you don't love me, because the person that you're supposed to be with finally found you."
She grabbed his hand and placed in it on her chest, trying a different tactic, "This heart here is yours. You already have it. And I know that it's just a bunch of pieces, but I'm working so hard," her vision was cloudy with her tears, "to paste it back together so you can have a whole heart and not pieces. I'm sorry that I'm so damaged that I disgust you. I'm sorry that I'm broken. I'm sorry that I fail to be—"
It hurt his soul too much to hear her apologize for not being enough. Why didn't she realize that he was the one that wasn't enough for her? He wanted to take away her pain and, since his soul was damned to hell anyways, he gave into what his heart, body, and soul were screaming for days for him to do: he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "Strawberries," he whispered when he pulled back and licked his lips. Sylar felt her pull his head back towards her and kissed her again. He could feel her smile against his lips.
