Chapter Fourteen
Claire was floating towards consciousness from a deep dreamless sleep. The covers were pulled tight up to her neck leaving her warm and comfortable enough that she didn't want to admit that she was awake yet. Her hands reached out to explore the other side of the bed and came up empty. She opened her eyes and found herself alone. The other half of the bed was cold like no one had ever been there.
She convinced herself not to become upset just yet. Claire padded around her apartment wrapped up in a sheet, toga style, looking for her companion. But the place was empty with no evidence left behind of what had happened last night except the dull ache in her hips and thighs. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation but it did make her feel oddly jelly like.
Maybe he had been right. Maybe it hadn't been the correct time yet. Of all the people to abandon her after a one night stand she had never expected him to do that to her, even when he was still the villain haunting her nightmares. Claire sunk to the floor, her heart growing heavy and the tears welling up in her eyes. Her head swam with dark thoughts. He had spent so much time over the last few years obsessing over her, killing people to get to her, stalking her, do anything necessary to get her attention no matter how awful and now that he had gotten what he wanted from her, he was gone.
She was border line hysterical when the thought popped into her head that if that was what it took to get rid of him, maybe she should have done it sooner and at least saved a few lives.
And then there was a gentle knock on her door. Her heart skipped a beat with hope. She almost tripped over her sheet as she ran for the door and flung it wide open.
"Nice toga," a man she had never seen before in her life smirked at her. She would have argued at the way he pushed past her into the apartment if she hadn't been distracted by the quiet breaking of her heart. "I know they're not waffles, but I wasn't exactly in a position to cook this morning so I brought muffins. Hope you're hungry," he mumbled at her tossing a brown paper bag on an end table and plopping himself down on her couch.
After the moment of shock faded away she whirled around on the strange man, about to take her frustrations out on the intruder when she noticed his eyes. The face was new, but the dark eyes brooded at her like molten butterscotch.
"You mind getting dressed or something… Not that I don't appreciate the view, but I'd like to be able to talk to you without being sidetracked." The stranger's face started melting away into one much more familiar.
Claire almost tipped the couch over as she leapt onto Sylar's lap. His momentary groan of pain was stifled by the white hot lips smothering his own. Blue static crackled down her back where his hands massaged her skin. She nibbled lightly at his neck but had to stop when one of the throw pillows burst into flames.
"Do you greet every guy you get at your door like that or just me?" His tone was playful but his eyes were burning with intense primal hunger.
"Where did you go? I hated waking up by myself. I thought you ditched me or something," she said giving him a peck and rolling off to grab a muffin. "Blueberry!"
There was a very confused Sylar awaiting her gaze when she turned back around.
"What do you mean… you thought I ditched you… because you woke up alone…" The wheels of his brain were turning.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you like that," she tossing her hands a little and smiling.
"Claire… Was there someone with you this morning?"
"You." And then reality struck like a low blow to the stomach with an iron sledgehammer. "It was you… wasn't it? Please tell me it was you," she desperately pleaded.
He didn't have to shake his head in the negative. She could see it in those eyes that she had been mentally praising only moments before. They were fading into dark and cold stone, dead inside, like she felt. Claire ran into the bathroom, slammed the door behind her and locked it. Her throat had swollen so tight that she couldn't even choke out the sobs that were revolting in her stomach. The tears poured freely with her shame and the last light of hope in her heart was traumatically snuffed out as it crumbled to pieces.
Sylar became a living statue on the couch. He couldn't even be sure that his heart continued to beat after he had stopped breathing. It felt like someone had taken a blow torch and cut his still beating heart from his chest just to stab it with a red hot poker while he watched. Whether it was her pain that he was feeling or his own, he wasn't sure. There didn't seem to be a difference.
Her sobs echoed back to him from the bathroom, morphing between cries of agony, dry heaves and choked off coughing. She was probably vomiting now.
Suddenly Sylar was trapped in a nightmare again, unable to wake up or escape. He wanted so badly to fix what had been broken but this time none of the parts made any sense to him. This wasn't something that he could make better or take back.
He walked into her bedroom in a daze and scanned the area. Everything seemed to be perfectly in it's place. He hadn't figured that a struggle would be evident since she had thought it was him, but somehow a violent attack seemed less horrific to him than being manipulated so harshly. Sylar started to reach out to touch the remaining sheets on her bed and paused, drawing back away from the reality of what had really happened before the full gravity of it could suck him down and finish crushing him into oblivion.
To late. The shock was wearing off and the flood gates of depression were opening. As much pain as he felt for her, he couldn't stop the flash of fury that ripped through him. How could she have believed that it was him? Didn't she know who he really was? Had he not told her only hours before that it wasn't the time?
And then the shame of those terrible thoughts against her pounded him with relentless guilt. He knew how it could happen. He remembered wanting her so desperately that he had mistaken Charisma for her and Jones hadn't even been a shape shifter. More guilt drove it's merciless spikes into him.
Sylar shuffled to the door of the bathroom and used his telekinesis to turn the lock on the other side. He dropped to the tiled floor and crawled over to Claire, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around her. She leaned her head into his chest and proceeded to drench his shirt in tears. He softly nuzzled the hair at her cheek and allowed himself to slouch back against the bathtub. They stayed that way until all of the misery was completely drained away and they fell into a deep sleep.
Knowing that wherever Claire was, Sylar would be nearby, Noah Bennett had called Peter, Matt and Mohinder to come with him to retrieve her when she didn't report to her office that morning. The logical place to start searching for her seemed to be her apartment so the group had driven together to the complex where she lived just a few miles from the department's campus. Even though the distance to the location was short, the ride itself felt like hours passing in tense silence. Suspicions were running high and trust only coming in trickles now that they had all been played by a very convincing shifter.
As they strolled towards her door Matt stopped dead in his tracks. Darkness was emanating from the home, but more of a painful blend then that of malevolence. Two lines of thought were echoing out to him but they seemed to be sharing the same path. Dreamlike images of Claire watching helplessly while two Sylars battled one another, each calling out to her. One pleading with her to come to him, while the other was taunting and shrinking her away. Sylar and Claire were in there together, apparently having the same nightmare.
As the others also halted their approach to turn and look at him, Parkman sought to grab Peter's attention.
I think you should go in first, Peter. Something bad has happened. They're both in there together and they need someone a little more understanding to connect with. Sylar's feeling a little unstable right now and doesn't need to be pushed into a fight.
Peter nodded quietly, sensing the distress inside as well.
"Wait here," he instructed the others. Noah started to argue, but Mohinder put a hand on his shoulder also clueing in to what kind of scenario they might be facing.
Peter cautiously entered the apartment and followed the sound of shallow breathing into the bathroom. He found Sylar holding Claire close, her face stained with tears, her body covered only with the tangled wrappings of a sheet. He felt his heart sink deeper the closer he got to them.
Sylar's eyes opened and his hand stretched out aggressively to attack but stopped noticing the lack of threat coming from the Petrelli. Claire had been startled awake by his quick movements and her eyes shied away from her uncle, filled with more pain and shame. Peter crouched to the floor beside the pair and his hand found Claire's. He didn't have to read their minds to know what had happened. His empathetic personality could feel it.
Six pairs of eyes stared solemnly at the floor in silence. Claire had gotten dressed into a hideously unmatched and baggy set of sweats and now sat flanked on the couch by Sylar and Peter. Sylar had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other held her hand, rubbing small circular patters over hers with his thumb as her head rested on his shoulder. Peter had her other hand clasped in both of his. Noah sat rigidly in the chair beside the couch with a blank expression. Matt and Mohinder had both pulled chairs away from the table. Matt sat in his backwards with his arms folded over the back and his head resting on them. Mohinder slouched forward with hands supporting his heavy mind. It was a dark hour for everyone and they had all put aside their differences to come together for support.
Claire sniffled and the sound shattered the deafening silence, disturbing everyone. Sylar pulled her just a little bit closer and Peter softly patted the hand he had possession of.
"What in the hell is this guy after?" Matt groaned, banging his head against his arms in frustration.
"Well, it's pretty clear that trying to tear us apart is a main objective," Noah mumbled.
"He's managed to prey on all of our insecurities. He turned you against Sylar with those murders. He turned us against you with the evidence you hid. He turned Matt and I against Sylar. And now it appears he's trying to drive a rift between Sylar and Claire," Mohinder muttered, more to himself than the others as his brain tried to mash the puzzle pieces together in a way that would make sense.
"He failed," Claire squeaked into the dark shoulder that sheltered her. Sylar kissed the top of her head and returned to his brooding state. Noah itched a little with the blatant display of affection between them. He felt conflicted about their proximity. On one hand he appreciated that she had someone to support and protect her, but on the other hand, it was Sylar. That was something he would not get over any time soon if ever.
"He forced me to kill again," Sylar growled.
"But what does this guy have to gain by doing all of this? What is the benefit of turning you loose on the world with us all to divided to stop you?" Peter quietly mused.
"Perhaps that is the answer we're looking for?" Mohinder leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms.
"What, he wants to set a monster free?" Matt perked up. "No offense, Sylar," he quickly added as an after thought.
"If he wants a killer, he's got a killer. And he's number one on the list," Sylar muttered darkly.
"Don't talk like that. You're not that guy anymore," Claire said sitting up to look him in the eye.
"Are you so sure about that?" Nathan Petrelli's voice sounded from the door. "Hello, lover," he said smacking a kiss in Claire's direction as everyone turned to look at the impostor. They all stood up in unison, shifting aggressively towards the unwelcome visitor.
"I told you I was going to have fun playing with your girlfriend there, Sylar. And she was," the mimic rolled Nathan's eyes and shrugged his shoulders, "alright. I've had better though." He finished the stinging insult with a revolting grin.
"You son of a bitch!" Peter screamed, charging at his brother's look alike.
A hand raised in a halting motion and Peter was stayed. He started to lift off of his feet into the air, clutching at his throat and making choking noises. Noah pulled his revolver and took a shot at the mimic. The bullet stopped in front of the man and switched directions, burying itself in Mohinder's chest. He collapsed to the floor. Noah's gun was mentally yanked from his hand and thrown through the window on the other side of the room. When Matt stepped forward to push a thought into his head, Nathan flicked his wrist and tossed him out the window after the gun.
Sylar had positioned himself in front of Claire, watching the attacker's movements so akin to his own and now he lunged forward with a low guttural sound like a growl issuing from his throat. Claire was right behind him, shielding them both. Nathan dropped Peter to the floor, where he lay purple faced, gasping for air and only barely conscious.
"I'd like to see how that works," the mimic sneered, looking at Claire's ability with awe and hungry envy.
Sylar arched a blue lightning bolt in his direction at full voltage, but missed as the man blurred through the room to grab Noah. Claire watched in horror as the villain held her father hostage with his arms forced behind his back at an awkward angle and his head twisted nearly to the point where his neck would break.
"So this is Sylar the killer? The Boogie Man that everyone is so afraid of? Gotta tell ya, man, I'm failing to be impressed right now. What are you going to do? Are you going to try to get the bad guy or are you going to save your friends? You don't have time to do both do you?" Nathan grinned mockingly.
The mental wall that had separated Sylar's inner psychopath from his redeemed self for so long blew apart with a tidal wave of fury. He telekinetically yanked Noah's body from the mimic's grasp, snapping his neck in the process and flew at the smirking impostor. Claire's screams barely registered over the boiling darkness that was gushing over him like a geyser of hatred and malice. The two men disappeared out the window.
Claire rushed to her father's side and screamed again when no life was to be found in his body. She looked around in panic and found the glass top of her coffee table glinting at her. Her hands gripped the end of the table and hurled it a wall with impressive force, shattering the glass over the floor. She snatched the first shard she found and dug it deep into her arm on her way back to her father. A violent stabbing motion with the glass dagger left a gaping wound in his chest where his blood began to flow lethargically onto the carpet. Claire dripped as much of her blood as possible into the hole she had created and started slapping the man's face trying desperately to get him to wake up.
A ragged gasp filled Noah's lungs with precious air and he grimaced as his body repaired itself. Claire hugged him frantically before dashing to a wheezing Mohinder. Another slash with the glass reopened her arm and the blood flowed into the bubbling bullet hole. A few seconds later the case popped itself from his chest and he sat upright with wide eyed awe at the hysterical blonde with the tear stained face. Peter was climbing to his feet, still choking a bit as he clutched at his throat.
Without a moment of hesitation Claire flung herself out the window where the others had disappeared. She landed a few feet from where Matt Parkman had been tossed. He was conscious, but his back had been broken, paralyzing him from the waist down. One more time, she ripped herself open to relieve the injuries of her friend. While he was busy healing her eyes darted around, looking for any sign of where Sylar had gone to with the Petrelli clone.
There was a loud crashing sound from somewhere over head and she looked up at the building across the alley way. A window in the top floor had been broken and now a long jagged crack was splitting the structural wall they faced. Fire belched out of the open window. She dashed for the fire escape that led up to the location of the brawl but was stopped when the two men burst through the roof of the neighboring complex. Sylar was dragging the man into the sky with him. Their tussle awkwardly continued in mid air with each wildly throwing punches and slashing at one another. And then Sylar let go.
Nathan's mimic plummeted to the ground below but floated himself just before impact. He made a mocking salute at them all and blurred away. Claire had noticed though before he had made his escape that the villain wasn't healing. It would take a long time for all the injuries Sylar had managed to inflict on him to heal and that would give them a distinct advantage.
Sylar landed on the street next to her and Matt, his blazing gaze still fixed on where his enemy had vanished. Barely saving a glance for what he was doing, Sylar grabbed Parkman and hurled him towards the window to Claire's apartment. She could hear him land inside with a loud thud and a stream of profanities. Her dark accomplice grabbed her up in his arms and levitated them through the window as well.
As they reconvened the atmosphere of the group changed dramatically. Half of them were rubbing sore spots where they're wounds had been, gaping at Sylar with concern and hesitation. He stood silently, clenching his fists at his side for a moment before deciding to lose his control on something inanimate. He rounded on the wall behind him and let a low snarl tear from his throat as his fist collided with the wall and exited the other side. As he dragged his hands down the wall, long gashes were torn like claw marks and the decorative paper peeled away, blistering with searing heat.
Claire tried to take his shoulders for comfort but he shrugged her away, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the cracked remains of the wall. There was a clicking sound of a gun and Claire turned to see Matt scowling Noah into putting his spare away. Peter stepped up, still flushed in the face, and leaned against the ravaged wall to look Sylar in the face.
"I failed," the dark man hissed under his breath.
"We're going to get him," Peter stated as a solemn promise.
"He can't heal. When he was running away, I saw it. It's going to take a while for him recover from that damage." Claire tried again to make contact with him and this time he allowed it. She started slowly with a hand on his back and then moved so that she stood in front of him, between his arms with her hands on his face. He wouldn't look at her.
"That just means that he's going to be coming for you again," he muttered darkly, clenching his teeth.
"We'll all be here to protect her."
"Like we just did?" Sylar snapped at Peter. Their forces had been decimated in less than a minute.
"Gab-"
"Don't call me that!" He screamed at her. Claire flinched back, dropping her hands from him, and then the fire began to burn in her eyes. She hauled her first back and smashed it into his face with enough force to send him flipping backward.
"Claire, what the hell?" Peter started.
Sylar jumped to his feet with electricity dancing chaotically in his hands. Matt and Mohinder glanced at one another nervously.
"You want to fight this guy? You want to put an end to all this?" Claire was shrieking at him, her force field rippling in her own hands. "Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself and snap the hell out of it!"
He paused, still glaring at her from under his thick eyebrows. The blue sparks faded away and his stance relaxed but his demeanor was still darkly brooding.
"Claire's right. This isn't over," Noah pitched.
"I need to find a speedster." Sylar whispered it to himself, but everyone was paying him a heavy enough amount of concentration that they all hear what he had said. "He's to fast."
"Sylar…" Claire looked at him with sad eyes, his own dropped to the floor.
"You know we can't let you do that," Noah piped in again.
"And how are you going to stop me?" He said with an agitated sneer.
"They're not going to. I am," Claire moved directly in front of him, shimmering ripples of light in her hands.
They stared hard at one another for a long minute, neither relenting.
"Claire," he started to break, moving in until he could place his hands on either side of her jaw so that she was forced to keep looking him in the eye. "I have to be able to keep him from getting your power. I have to be able to protect you."
"I can take care of myself," she snipped at him.
"Not this time. I've seen it." He leaned so that his forehead lightly rested against hers.
"Can you do it without killing anyone?"
"I can try."
The way he looked at her just then was enough to make her heart skip a beat. So many bad things had happened to her recently. To them both. And as much of a destructive force of nature as he could be, his first instinct was to fix the broken things. Trying to stop him on this would lead to them fighting more which was never productive as a means of ending a villain. Claire knew that she had to let him go before any more bad could come along and finish destroying them both.
Her father coughed loudly, his way of telling them to break it up.
Sylar raised a brow and spread his deadly gaze over the other members of the group without breaking his contact with Claire.
"You should be running."
They all seemed to tick their heads to the side in unified confusion until Sylar pressed his mouth against hers. His message suddenly became very clear as one hand moved to the back of her neck and the other to her lower back so that he could hold her so dangerously close. Her hands shot up, fingers twisting through his hair. Mohinder stopped to gawk with scientific inquiry as the area around the couple seemed to spontaneously burst into flames. Peter grabbed the man and shoved him out the door seconds before the entire room was consumed by the inferno.