Sylar's attacker was so still that he had to check behind for movement to make sure that Hiro hadn't frozen them all in time. Peter stood bewildered in the empty frame of a door, apparently oblivious to the fact that his hands were still sparking.
Angela took a step forward and gaped at the mess. "Peter, what on earth do you think you are doing?"
"Uhhh..what..." was all that could utter in his state. Once the shock subsided Peter's face relaxed and he appeared to take in the scene of party-goers. Some of the group took a few steps closer to the door, but no one approached Sylar on the ground. Witnessing combat must have reignited memories of his wolf-like demeanor and raised their defenses.
As the group stood dumbfounded for the second time that night, Sylar carefully tugged the jagged splinter from his hand, ignoring the growing red stain on the beige rug and his shirt sleeve. The pain riveted up his forearm and sent shockwaves up through his shoulder. The brief agony caused him to inhale suddenly. As soon as his skin closed over the wound, he looked up to find Peter walking toward him with his arm out-stretched, presumably to help him to his feet. Good, he's finally acting civil. As Sylar himself raised an arm out to receive help, Peter strode right past him. Spoke too soon. Peter's outstretched hand instead caught his mother in a warm embrace beside him as Sylar remained hunched on the ground with his forearms on his knees.
"Hi mom, what is all this?"
"It's for you, dear! Happy Birthday! We wanted to do something special after all you have been through this year..."
"Wow, I'm totally in shock. Thank you." Peter gazed hazily around the room at everyone.
"...But really, what was all that about? Just look at the door! Your father specifically had that custom made in Morocco. Now look at it."
"Sorry mom. I'll get it fixed, I promise. "
Angela sighed and placed a hand on his cheek to turn his face to hers. She stroked it gently. "What on earth are you boys fighting about this time?"
Peter briefly threw Sylar a sideways glance. He could see the debate raging in that tight-assed hero's mind. Is this it? Is he going to tell everyone right here, right now? Is he going to ruin everything for us? Peter's silence dragged on into an eternity of distressing and dizzying thoughts. Sylar mouthed in his direction not now.
"It's nothing, ma. We're just messing around and it got out of hand."
You could say that.
Sylar felt a small hand on his shoulder and another reach under his arm to lift him up from behind. A wave of relief spread throughout his body at the familiar sensation of Claire's soft grip, but this dissipated instantly when he saw that she was actually standing across the room next to Suresh. A drink tilted precariously in hand as she stared back at him in disbelief. Once righted on his feet, Sylar looked down to meet the soft blue eyes of Emma. Smiling meekly at her, he signed, "Thank you."
"What a mess!" Angela continued. She came up to Sylar and brushed some splinters off of his dress shirt. "But no matter now; our main guest is finally here."
The special guest had already moved to the living room. "Wow, thank you everyone, this is amazing! Sorry about the door. I guess it's pretty obvious now that I had no clue about any of this." A flourish of laughter broke out. He smiled around the room and made his way around for a series of congratulatory pats on the back and embraces. Sylar could finally exhale fully. The tension was slowly subsiding, and fortunately Peter's attention was occupied with the others. The surprise had successfully distracted and subdued him. As Sylar tried to sneak into the background of the revelry, Peter's gaze returned and stopped him dead in his tracks. Peter held the glower for a few milliseconds and it was enough to tell Sylar that he had not forgotten anything. However, on the upside, it seemed like Peter was going to let the issue lie for now. For that reason, he had to give Peter some credit for doing the mature thing (aside from throwing him through a Moroccan door, perhaps).
The tension and confusion in the room had finally dissipated, and it began to feel like a normal Special party except for the giant hole where the doors had been. Suresh took the lead with lifting what was left of them back into their place, and soon Parkman joined him. However, Suresh managed to raise each heavy wood door with one hand and Parkman's contribution was a token at best.
Sylar looked a right mess. He tried to brush the dust off of his torn sleeves but sawdust stained the light plaid. Fresh crimson blood had already soaked up to his elbow. As he wiped the rest of the blood off his hand onto his ruined (and previously favorite) shirt, Emma discretely pulled Sylar aside near a side table. "Are you ok? What was all that with Peter?" she whispered.
"I dunno, I must of said something that set him off."
"I have never seen him like that."
"I know, me neither."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nah, I'm alright."
"But will you two be ok?' She looked him directly in the eyes with concern.
Sylar paused and returned a grim frown. "I hope so."
Emma nodded sadly and patted his blood-soaked arm. "Why don't you get cleaned up? I'm sure there is an extra shirt around somewhere with the boys spending so many summers here." Peter and Nathan were still only mentioned in the plural. This realization brought Sylar a brief pang of new-found guilt.
"Good idea, thanks. I'll check."
He made his way back to the guest room again. Luckily, when packing earlier that day, he had thrown some of his things in Claire's bag rather than his own, which he instantly spotted splayed open on mahogany chair. Inside he found at crumpled grey collared shirt next to the familiar red of a cheerleader outfit. It would do, so he pulled the shirt out and made a small effort to brush out some wrinkles.
He stepped into the wide guest room bathroom. The granite tiles felt cold from weeks alone in solitude before this unexpected night. To think right now, in another universe, he and Claire would be having the evening of their life! Taking off his ruined shirt, he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror. The strange man peering back was haggard, tired, wild, not his distinguished and haughty self. He wore stooped shoulders and a grisly five o'clock shadow, yet there was no physical evidence of his scuffle with Peter. No bloody impaled hand, no lingering pain in his neck from many cracked cervical vertebrae. He turned the hot tap on full and let it run until steam clung to glass to obscure his doppelganger reflection. It occurred to him that his physical reality existed in memory only. His many scars in his 30 plus years were long gone ever since hijacking Claire's powers so many suns ago. This understanding was always a bit upsetting. In some ways it seemed a bit unfair the way his scars had been so easily revoked. They had been his badges of honor hard earned by breaking bones from falling off a shed, fighting off schoolmates while cornered in an alleyway, and getting eviscerated by a samurai sword. Staring now at his ageless form, he suddenly missed them. Claire must have had scars too, long ago. He never thought of asking her about them. Suddenly he wondered if she missed them too. Maybe he would one day if they get through this all. The scorching water rinsed off the remaining caked blood but seared his hands red in its stead. Suddenly he ached to know everything he could ever know about her. He wanted to learn the history of every inch of her stunning skin not through his clairsentience of objects, but through her own words describing each memory of every curve. There was so much he yearned to find out and yet now doubted whether the opportunity would remain, either by her decision or that of group. Would this night count as another invisible scar on her being?
He turned on the cold tap and splashed his face with the now tepid water. As thoughts drifted back to old wounds long healed, he heard a quiet knock. He dried his face with a hand towel then threw his shirt over his head as made his way to the door. Both disappointment and relief inundated him when he found it was not her, not Claire.
"Are you alright now?" Emma signed.
He wasn't enjoying the uncomfortable company of his lone thoughts, so her interruption was actually a blessing. "Yeah, thanks. Much better."
The two exited the hall to join the others in the living room, and he soon spotted Claire next to Peter. She noticed Sylar approaching and began eying Emma strangely. Could that be a hint jealously? He wondered. While some may have gloated in that sensation considering their recent disagreement, it only made his gut knot for inspiring those thoughts in her head.
Claire made her way across the room toward the back door to the balcony and glanced back at Sylar with worried green eyes. It was the first time she really looked at him since their argument. Fortunately the fire had simmered in her gaze, so when she discretely signaled him with a tilt of her head, he didn't hesitate to follow. Quietly, he closed the sliding door behind him. Claire had moved to the end of the balcony and he could only make her form out partially illuminated by the dim moonlight stealing through gaps in the willow. She was leaning on her forearms against the wood railing with her back to him, watching the breathing ocean below. A slight warm breeze tugged at the frill of her dress, and for a moment Sylar watched it dance across the back of her knees. Eventually he moved toward her with the same caution one would approach a feral cat and mirrored her posture against the railing a few feet away.
"I talked to Peter when you were in the other room." Claire spoke up quietly and suddenly, making Sylar jump slightly and shake the railing. This news was unexpected and Sylar felt his skin stir uncomfortably. She continued. "I told him that whatever he thought he saw earlier was just something we made up so we wouldn't ruin the surprise of the party. I said that we were making food at your house and just used his assumption as a cover story, but told him we never would have if we knew he'd react that way. I said that I shouldn't have come up with you in the first place, that it looked wrong..."
"Did he believe you?"
"It's weird, but I think so."
"Oh... Good."
Silence settled over the two. Sylar fidgeted with his sleeve as he waited for her to continue, but she just kept staring at the slumbering sea. He decided to leave her with her thoughts and turned to go back inside, but her voice stopped him in his place.
"You know, I am trying really hard to be furious at you but right now but I am way too shell-shocked."
"I know."
"Sylar. Why did you do that to me?"
Hazy thoughts returned to that grimy college bedroom and his strange hands running up the length of her flexed thigh. He turned back to the railing, silent and searching to find the right words. "Honestly? All this while, ever since we've been together, I've been looking for an answer to justify it. I thought I might tell you the truth once I found the right reason – maybe you were into it too, or I was a different person then, etcetera – but I know that's just the old me trying to find excuses for my actions. I'm trying to make it more forgivable, but that's not possible. Now I know whatever my intentions were, they're irrelevant."
"Fine. But just tell me why."
"It took me years in the city to figure it out, but now I know I wanted that night."
"You wanted to hurt me?"
"No, never. In all the years I've known you that was never my intention, even if it was the outcome... Although I know I have done my fair share of doing just that."
"Then why?"
"Because that night I just knew then I wanted to get close to you. Whatever means. I was obsessed with the idea. I thought that we were kindred and that understanding you would help me know myself better and fill that hole. But when I finally got to touch you while in that other body, it just felt empty. I was closer to you than I had ever been before, even closer than when I was in your skull. However, in that moment – lying beside you – it occurred to me that I could never truly know you in that form since it wasn't really me you were with."
"It's still pretty hard to forgive, you know."
"Fair enough, but I guess you've forgiven me for far worse."
"True, and that's what's bugging me. After all the shit you put me through this doesn't compare, yet it hurts just as much. Maybe it's because your honesty was the first reason I felt something for you. Even when you were murdering and terrorizing, you still never lied to me. You were the only one who were honest about me and my life. Now I don't know what to think anymore."
"Claire, I might have lied about who I was, but never what I meant about you. And that's the truth."
"Really?"
"Not once."
Claire moved her hand to her face to wipe something away from her cheek. "Maybe I just need some time."
Time. That was something they both had. "Claire, if you need 1000 years I'm still going to be here for you."
"I know."
"But please don't take that long, OK?"
He saw a smirk emerge from the corner of her mouth. She opened her lips to say something, but at that moment Angela slid open the door. "You two, please come back inside now. It's already past ten, time to eat!"
~o~
Claire re-entered the house and Sylar waited a minute before following in turn. During those few moments he took a deep breath, straightened his collar and savoring another long gaze at the ocean. On returning indoors, Sylar could see Peter mingling in the kitchen. he had an arm around Emma's waist and smiled as he engaged in conversation with his friends. It was unnerving since Sylar couldn't quite decide whether this was truly genuine or just a smokescreen.
Angela had managed to wrangle everyone into the separate dining room to get food. She had spread out the main courses on the table. This included the famous Petrelli Family casserole, a mix of salads, vegetables, an array of cheeses, and whatever other entrees and appetizers were brought by guests. Sylar's half-eaten lasagna stared at him as he walked past his slaughtered creation.
Claire had gone ahead of him. Once she had piled some food on her plate and had a glass of red wine at hand, she found a seat first next to Emma at the far end of the couch. Soon everyone had their drinks and a plate full of food and were seated around the living room. Sylar made a direct effort not to sit beside or directly across from Claire, and eventually found a place on a single wicker chair.
"Great lasagna, Sylar!" Hiro announced with gusto as he shoveled forkfuls into his mouth. Sylar grimaced slightly as his meal disappeared among many hungry guests.
"I dunno. It's way too peppery." Parkman added haughtily.
Sylar intentionally glanced at Parkman, at his wife Janice, and back to Parkman. Sylar enjoyed the sight of Parkman's face distorting as he picked up the loud mental message, Well I boned your wife.
~o~
The room soon filled with chatter over soft music, and not long into the meal Peter became lost in a work-related debate with Suresh. Peter was leaning back against the buffet with his arms crossed. "It's so promising; I don't understand why you think it won't work, Mohinder."
"Because people are simple! They see something different and new, and it makes them afraid." Suresh sat with a wide stance on a dining room chair near Sylar, one hand waving around dramatically with a hand full of rye bread.
"Suresh, that doesn't sound like you at all." Parkman commented.
Peter stepped in again. "What happened to bringing our gifts out into the open for the next step in human evolution? This Specials school for the gifted would be the next step!"
"It would have been before all of this." He waved his bread-filled hand again. The implication of the Ferris wheel incident did not need to be spoken aloud.
"And it's all better than we could ever have hoped for!" Claire added defensively from her place next to Emma and Hiro.
Maya turned Claire. "We know. But Suresh is just trying to say we need to be careful."
"Exactly." Suresh frowned and looked back to Peter. "Have you ever heard of the analogy of the frog in the boiling pot of water?"
"Yeah, I know that one!" piped in Micah.
"No." Peter stated, "but I think we would have seen something big by now if we were really threatened."
Suresh continued. "That's the problem exactly! We expected an instantaneous response and never got it. We think this is all resolved, but we are really just in eye of the building storm. They say if you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will jump out instantly. But if you place frog in cool water and slowly turn the temperature higher, it will remain until it boils alive. That is us. These little chips away at our privileges – the mandatory registration, the employment restrictions – these are all small changes in our temperature and we are oblivious to our own slow fate."
Listening to the group engage in what was becoming a frequent debate, Sylar felt himself actually enjoying himself. It was turning into a normal social event for the group, unhindered by a shadow of secret affairs and fracturing friendships. He closed his eyes slightly and slid lower into the comfortable cushion of the chair. His plate of food remained mostly uneaten beside him.
Emma shifted uncomfortably next to Claire. It was clear that not everyone was keen for the discussion to turn to work, so she jumped in for a change of topic. "So Gabriel, I heard you may be have met someone." She smiled.
The vibrant discussion simmered down and Sylar had to hold back with every bit of strength to refrain from staring at Claire. He felt a friendly slap on the shoulder from Suresh, who was grinning next to him. "Oh really? Here we thought you liked having the sulky bachelor role for all eternity."
"I don't know what you guys are talking about." Sylar lied.
Emma continued. "Peter told me the other day that you were going away this weekend with some girl. I was surprised with the party and all, but maybe he wasn't sure either. So who is this special lady?"
"It's no one, really."
"Funny, the only girl Sylar showed up this weekend with here was Claire." Suresh laughed. "Some date."
"So who is she?" continued Emma, "Are you meeting her tomorrow then?"
He slid lower into his chair further and bit his lower lip. It came out before he could help it. "She's just some girl I've been seeing."
"So do we know her?"
Sylar felt a hand on his shoulder "Oh, leave the poor boy alone. How about a toast?" Angela interrupted. Thank god! Angela finally redeemed herself for the cake incident. She held a bottle of champagne in her hand. Maya stood up to help her, and began searching the counter. "Great! But does anyone know where the corkscrew went?"
Everyone shook their heads. Stretching as he stood up, Parkman pointed to the kitchen. "I think I saw an extra one in Sylar's bag."
Death glares made their way to the cop who was once again now digging through his possessions. Sylar was long overdue for a nemesis, and Parkman was beginning to fit that role nicely. "Holy, you guys packed quite a lot of food. You know it was only one night, right? Looks like you were planning to stay the weekend."
"Sylar, I told you that was too much food for the day!" Claire feigned anger with her cover from across the room.
"Oh. Well, you... were the one who was worried about people bringing guests. I just did what you suggested."
"This always happens. You have no clue about social occasions."
"The way you two argue, you would think you were together." Janice laughed.
Fortunately Parkman had retrieved the corkscrew before he could pillage the rest their things and soon a round of champagne was ready in hand for everyone. Angela leaned down to Sylar and whispered quietly. "Gabriel, I think it's only right if you say a few words.."
Sylar shook his head. "No, it's OK Angela, I don't know what I'd say."
"Nonsense. I have never seen Peter happier than the last year, and a lot of that has been from having you as a friend. Say what you feel."
"OK then, I'll try." Hesitating for a moment, Sylar somehow coaxed his muscles to move him into the standing position. He raised his glass, in which the golden liquid tremored slightly. "Peter." He looked directly at him standing across from him. Peter's blank expression made interpreting his mental state difficult. Sylar would play the cards, just in case. "Happy Birthday, man.. You were always there for me, and have shown me more forgiveness than I could have ever deserved. You always find the best in people, even when they don't meet your expectations. This is your day, and we all wish we could show you even a fraction of the compassion you give to all of us. So thanks, man. Happy Birthday. You deserve a great one."
He raised his glass higher and everyone else followed suit.
"That was... specific." Parkman mumbled slightly too loud.
Angela left to retrieve the cake, and Peter just leaned against the buffet while staring at the ground, frowning. Suddenly he stood up from his place with clenched fists. "I can't take this anymore. All these lies. Enough with that bullshit. Sylar, how long were you planning on hiding this?"
A hush fell over the room. It was unlikely anyone expected this response from a toast.
"Honestly, what is with you two?" Angela stood at the door frame of the dining room with velvet cake at hand, its candles slowly diminishing.
Peter stood up and walked to the center of the room. He turned around to the group, first stopping to face Claire, then Sylar.
"I'm sorry everyone, but there's something we need to deal with first." He looked to Parkman and the others on their feet. "Those of you standing may want to sit down. Sylar told me something outside that is pretty upsetting."
Sylar watched as Claire's nails gripped into the couch.
"Peter. Don't.. do.. this." Sylar growled.
Peter walked in a circle around the room, composing his thoughts. "So is anyone else here thinking its strange that Claire and Sylar came here together?"
There was no answer. Only the murmur of the wind against the windows and a soft hum of music in the background cut through quiet whispers.
"Peter, please!" Sylar pleaded quietly.
"No, we need to talk about this. I thought I could let it go for now, but I can't stand idly by while you hurt someone I care about."
"Peter, what on earth are you talking about? " Angela interceded.
The world began spinning and Sylar felt the dizziness return. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. It was all going so well!
Before Sylar could register what was taking place, Peter's words spilled out and vibrated the air with a destructive edge. "Sylar's been sleeping with Claire."
A stunned silence enveloped the room and all eyes turned to Sylar.
"C'mon, Peter, that's ridiculous!" Suresh protested.
Angela placed down the cake and reached toward Claire with an outreached hand. "Preposterous. She's only twenty!"
"It's true. I caught them traveling here together and heard it from their own mouths. I didn't know it when he asked to borrow this place for the weekend, but she was that girl he was talking about. He was luring her for a secluded weekend alone with her. At our own beach house!"
With clenches fists and face flushed, Claire stood up to face him. "I told you already! That was all a ruse. We didn't want to ruin the surprise so we made up that lie! We're sorry if we upset you."
Peter paced back and forth before stopping in front of Claire to face her. "I know. At first I believed you, Claire, this was all so disorienting tonight. But then I thought about it more and something didn't add up. Then it hit me. Sylar, if my mom had asked me to meet you here, why did you both look so surprised when you ran into me? It was obvious that you didn't expect me here at all when you almost electrocuted me."
There was a round of murmurs. Sylar tried to ignore all the invading gazes, but there were just too many. "You can think whatever you want, Peter. No one else believes you." His earlier indifference to combat his friend was long gone. Right now he was ready to strike him. Peter's eyes closed in on him and he could see him concentrating. He was absorbing a power of his again. But which one? Suddenly it occurred to him. Claire stepped up to face Peter. "Claire, wait...!" Sylar cried out. Oh no.
"I told you! Sylar and I are just friends. That's all we've ever been since the carnival."
Instantly Sylar could feel that familiar tingle as it spread up both his and Peter's spine.
"That's a lie!" Peter declared.
"Peter, how could you possibly know that?" Angela gaped, the cake situated at a dangerous angle in her hands.
"I just absorbed his lie-detecting power and she confirmed everything I said. Matt, see for yourself!"
The heavyset cop focused on Sylar as he tilted his head and squinted.
"Parkman, you asshole, get out of my head!" Sylar yelled and jumped to his feet, but it was too late. The memories floated to the surface and were plucked from his psyche without his consent or control.
Parkman's face contorted into horror. "It's all true!" Parkman gasped. "That's sick, man! Even for you! Oh man.. The bag, the food. That was for you two! Oh my god!"
"OK, I think everyone needs to seriously calm down!" Sylar was now standing in the middle of the room with a pool of stunned faces around him. The tapping of a willow branch against the window suddenly was deafening to his throbbing ears.
His lover came to stand by his side and glanced around at the river of stunned faces. "Please, just let us explain everything." Us, we are now an "us".
Peter moved towards him and so Sylar took as defensive step back while Claire remained steadfast. His face showed the same fury that Sylar had seen the night when Peter crucified him with a nail gun many years ago, the night of Nathan's final death. "I don't think there is anything left to explain." All of a sudden the fire in Peter's eyes suddenly subsided and instead he saw dark pools of hurt. It never occurred to Sylar that this revelation actually pained him greatly. "Man, I thought you were different now! I thought we were past all this!"
"But Peter, you know me!"
"Yes, but I also know exactly what you're capable of!"
Sylar felt defeated before it even began. Here before him stood his compass, his ally, his guide, whatever you want to call it. Here was the man who had rediscovered his humanity when Sylar thought there was nothing left. Without Peter's faith in him, what was he?
Peter frowned. "It kills me to do this, you know."
With a wave of Sylar's own telekinesis he found himself pressed back against the wall. Sylar felt the air sucked from his chest.
"For her own safety."
~o~
A framed picture next to Sylar smashed and he felt the suffocating gravity of the invisible grip. His feet scraped against the floor but he could do little to move his torso. His arms flailed automatically for something to grab onto something, anything! As he struggled to push against the force, he caught sight of Suresh taking Claire by the arm and pulling her to the back corner of the living room. She tried to get away but his incredible strength made her movements appear feeble at best.
Angela jumped in. "Hiro , please take Claire to my home. Emma, go with her and make sure she's OK. Claire dear, we will talk you through this ordeal later, but we need to deal with Gabriel for now."
"Please, don't do this!" Claire screamed as she squirmed in Suresh's cement hold.
"Claire, enough, we're just trying to protect you! He's using you, just like he always wanted ever since he stole your power. We let our guard down about him. We were all wrong." Angela declared.
Parkman followed suit."Don't you see? You're his toy! He's using you, and you're completely brainwashed!"
"You can talk!" Sylar sneered in return.
In a desperate effort, Claire turned to her friend. "Hiro, please! You saw us together.' Please." she sobbed and grabbed his hand. "Please don't make him go away."
Hiro squeezed her hand tighter and then raised his head high. "I'm sorry, Angela. I can't do that to Claire. I know firsthand what its like to have someone you care about taken away from you. I think we should at least give them a chance."
Angela maintained composure but Sylar could almost see her blood darken under her thin skin. "I understand, but this is a necessity. Matt? I think Hiro may need a bit of persuading."
This was unbelievable! From Sylar's perspective, pressed among ornate plates and tipped frames, he could see Parkman slowly approach the smaller man and show his telltale sign of mind-digging. It appeared to be working when Hiro's unyielding composure transformed into visible uncertainty. He was evidently fighting something no one else could feel or see. Hiro turned to Ando, who shook his head in confusion in turn. Finally, something gave and Hiro bowed his head slightly. "Let's go, cheerleader." He grabbed her upper arm just as Suresh released his own hold. Sylar's heart and soul were cut in that single moment for he knew this could be the last time he would ever see her. He held his breath for her final disappearance before his eyes, but just as Hiro began she managed to break free of his grasp. Before Sylar knew what was happening, she had sprinted across the room and flung herself into his arms. Finding the strength to pull against Peter's power, he held her so close until his ribs ached from pressing deep into hers.
For a moment everyone stood in disbelief at this unfamiliar display of affection. However, a moment later he felt Claire pulled from his grip. The Hunger began rising in the form of rage. How dare they take away the one person that grounded him? He felt electricity, radioactivity, fire, everything rise in his hands and core. Sparks began to form at the back of his jaw forming in a turret of electricity down his arms, and it took all his strength to refrain from frying the whole room to cinder.
Suresh had rushed up to hold Claire's arms again and Angela stepped in front of her protectively. "I'm sorry Claire, you may be too young to understand, but we have to do this for you."
Claire began sobbing. "You can't! Please! Sylar!" She screamed.
Sylar fought and shook, turning to the one person he thought would have the power to understand. "Peter, please. Just let us talk so I can explain. Just don't take her away. Not now, not tonight. Just give us a chance to explain. That's all we ask."
Peter turned his attention to Sylar splayed at the wall. "Why does this matter so much? You seduced Claire already. You got what you wanted!"
"You have no fucking idea what I wanted!"
"Then why does it matter?"
"It just does!"
"But WHY?"
It came out before he knew what happened. "Godammit, BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!"
Peter gaped and stared blankly at his friend. "What?"
Silence overtook the room once again. Sylar heard in the background haze the familiar song / Ahh Home, let me come home / Home is wherever I'm with you /
Peter stared at him doubtfully. "Are you serious?"
Sylar hadn't heard Peter speak. All he could do was stare across the room at the wild cat girl fighting against those closest to her just to be close to him. At his impulsive words, she froze from fighting and looked across at him.
"Claire." he tried to speak but almost no sound came out.
There was a subdued tone to Peter's voice. "Are you seriously in love with her?"
"Yeah, I really am."
Claire had stopped struggling completely. She locked eyes with his and he couldn't look away. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Those words he had finally stopped from being a hazy concept scurrying around in the shadows of his consciousness, hiding from focus in dark corners of his eyes. Only now could they materialize. This could not be the end.
"You do?" she could barely whisper.
Sylar turned his head to face Peter. "Read every piece of me. I'm open. I'm so crazy about her, I would never hurt her again. Ever." He released Sylar's hold to take on another power. He fell from the wall onto his hands and gasped for air, finally able to inhale completely. Peter closed his eyes again and Sylar knew he was testing him now with Parkman's ability. He could feel Peter's mind combing through his own, and he opened everything to him – The turbulent night of the news briefing. His absurd breakfast with her at the Bennet's and their afternoon in the shade of the gravel plant. Sprawling on the deck of her apartment drinking beer and getting lost in graphic novels. Every second of every hour he spend building the pocket watch for her. How it felt to hold her at night, and how it felt on those many nights without her – until finally, Peter slowly opened his eyes.
"Holy shit, man. I..I had no idea I thought—well I don't know what I thought. Holy..."
Sylar braced for the telekinetic hold to return on him, but it never did. He couldn't tell whether it was intentional or if Peter was too lost in this revelation. He didn't know, but he could see a hint of shame as Peter glanced away from him. Within seconds, Sylar found himself stumble across the room to pull Claire away from the others and into his own arms. They pressed themselves against each other, clinging as close as they could get until it hurt. He wrapped his arms around her shuddering form and buried his face in her golden hair.
He felt it before it registered and he found himself lost in a fog. Her lips came to be pressed lightly against his own and he forgot or failed to care that there was even a party and a beach house and a roomful of defensive companions. He was lost and complete. Now he would do anything to keep them from parting again. He felt the clouds dissipate and he returned to their world when their lips parted, and found that Claire had done the same. She wept quietly but pulled her face out from under his to look around. He suddenly became very aware of their audience.
All around them the group stared in awe at this new and unexpected discovery.