Okay, I fibbed a little. This was supposed to be one long last chapter, but it turned out to be a lot longer than I expected so I split it up into two parts. Many, many thanks to everyone who has given reviews and messages. Especially Jamie and Ivy for sticking around since the beginning. You're all awesome! Most of this chapter is set to the tune of "Teardrop" by Massive Attack, which I've officialy dubbed as being Miranda's song. Hope you enjoy the big finale!

Chapter Twenty One (Part One)

Fate. Destiny. Fortune. There are many names for the cruel creature that guides our lives in ways that we cannot understand. Whether she is believed to be a higher power, or to not exist at all, we are all subject to the lots that she deals for us. But are our futures truly set in stone? Or can we change the circumstances of which we are afflicted and maybe, just maybe, save ourselves and those around us?

Wherever our lives may take us, whether we are meant to be monsters or angels, heroes or villains, we can all share in the unity of one great cosmic joke. All of us, those destined to be ordinary and special, mortals and the immortal alike will keep running in vicious circles.

"So you're the one that this is all about." Sylar glanced down at his watch and observed the hands spinning around the face seemingly at random before freezing in place.

"Yes, I suppose I am. Although you play a rather large role in my creation as well." Miranda beamed another shining smile at him. Her eyes twinkled in an oddly familiar way.

"Where is this? Is this the future? The past? Why did you bring me here?"

"This is my home, where my family lives. You traveled through a temporal rift in space that converged into this point in a dimension paralleling your own, although technically this is the future version of your own world. Since I don't currently exist in your dimension anymore I had to bring you here to show you what's at stake for your world. I couldn't risk information about this future being left in your time when I'm no longer there to protect it."

Sylar blinked a few times, surprised at the intellectual capacity of the small child. She giggled playfully at his confusion.

"Miranda!" a deep male voice that he didn't quite recognize called for the girl.

"Coming!" she responded happily. She skipped over to the couch and grabbed the pink blanket from it. He started to follow her when she moved for the door, but she stopped and held out a hand for him to remain behind. "You have to stay here. The portal only works one time so I can't afford to mess this up." A deep sadness was reflected in her eyes as she looked back to the door.

"Bad things are about to happen. They're all going to die." Sylar started to offer his help, but the strange little girl held a tiny hand up and snapped her fingers together, effectively shutting his mouth before he could speak anymore. "You can't change what's going to happen today. I just brought you here to see. You'll understand soon. I promise." She gave him one final smile and left the room, carefully shutting the door behind her.

He waited there patiently as he had been instructed to and listened as a chorus of voices started to sing happy birthday to Miranda. Near the end of the song a loud crack rang back to him followed by shouts and gunfire. There was a dull thud like a body hitting the floor. Sylar summoned an electrical pulse to his hands, ready to charge through the door and assist in stopping whatever was happening, but only a few little blue sparks danced at his fingers and died away. His powers weren't working here.

Sylar heard hurried footsteps run past the window and he delicately peeked through the curtain. A solar eclipse was taking place in the sky as the little girl ran away through a wooded area, a blonde woman that he assumed was her mother dragged her by the hand. Teams of men, clad in black armored uniforms bearing the D.S.R.E.C. insignia topped the hill with their weapons drawn. He was forced to watch helplessly as the agents fired on the blonde woman. She fell to the ground and Miranda was taken into their custody.

A hand gently gripped his shoulder and the scene changed again. An older version of Miranda, maybe twelve or so, stood behind him. She raised a pale finger to her mouth, urging him to stay silent. She took his hand and lead him down a hallway constructed of heavy cement blocks, closely resembling the department's prison ward. Agents and laboratory technicians walked by them seemingly oblivious to their presence. They came to a thick steel door with electronic as well as intricate combination locks marked as the entrance to level five. Miranda waved a hand over the door and it slowly opened. She continued to lead Sylar past the rows of guarded prison cells and down another side corridor that he didn't recognize as existing in his own time. A freshly constructed level six area materialized before him.

The duo stepped out onto a platform overlooking a large bay room with at least a hundred agents as well as various scientist's milling about. In the center of the room was the five year old version of the girl, strapped into a steel chair that was bolted to the floor. White sensory cables were attached to nearly every part of her body.

"Hello, Miranda," a blonde man with blue eyes addressed her. The child simply glared at him with contempt. "My name is Mr. Kline. You don't know me yet, but I've known about you for a very long time. You're destined to be a powerful young woman. We're here to help you become that."

Sylar shuffled closer to the railing of the platform as a group of people in white lab coats walked by.

"Don't worry about them. We're phased out of time and space right now. They could walk right through you and never you're there," she whispered to him.

"What is this?"

"This is the day after I was taken from my family. This is when I became… more. I traveled through the past for hundreds of my own years trying to find a way to fix everything, to change the future. But every time I changed even one small variable, the end scenario was always the same or worse. It seems that fate has a way realizing itself regardless of what I do, but you still have the power to alter the outcome. You can save them all." Sylar raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Do you know what a strange attractor is?"

"It's a part of chaos theory. Also known as the butterfly effect." He smirked at her.

"Does a butterfly flapping it's wing in Brazil cause a tornado in Texas?" they asked simultaneously and laughed as if they were sharing a private joke.

"The theory basically states that when any random variable is introduced into a determinable system, then the future state of that system will become chaotic and unpredictable." Miranda smiled fondly at him for his answer.

"Two objects in space that normally would have no reason at all to join one another become exponentially more powerful when they do. Like you and Claire. You two have no real logical business being together, and yet you are because you're drawn to one another like strange attractors. Even when she hates you more than anything, you're pulled together by the force of those passions. It's impossible for you to be ambivalent to one another." Sylar nodded to himself, mulling over that little insight.

"That pattern has been repeating itself for almost two thousand years. There's something in the blood, in your nature that draws you to her, just as your ancestor Cassius was compelled to pursue Kline's wife, Aurelia. He's been at war with the members of your heritage since her death, preventing such a union and killing them all until there was only two left."

"Me and Luke," he mumbled with a tinge of surprise.

"Yes. Unfortunately he ordered Luke to kill your father, and then he killed Luke once his usefulness had run out. The only reason you're alive is because of me. When your power is combined with Claire's… it becomes chaotic but potent. All of your strengths without any of your weaknesses." He wanted to protest but stopped when she held another finger to her mouth for silence.

"Now, Miranda, my darling. You're holding out on me," Kline said with a false sweetness to his tone. "I know that you can do so much more that you're showing us."

She gave the man a bitter scowl and tensed beside him. Sylar wondered if he would have to attempt to restrain her if she decided to attack. Reading his thoughts, a small smile crept over the corner of her mouth and she rolled her eyes at him sarcastically. As if you could.

"I never wanted to be this… thing," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I didn't obtain abilities because I didn't need or want them. I was fine the way I was."

"And what exactly is that?"

"Kline calls me a 'Key'. My core ability is… Something like a combination of intuitive aptitude and empathic mimicry, but stronger. I know how everything falls into it's place without the hunger because I just understand. If you are the question, then I am the answer." The words made sense, but the meaning behind them didn't. Sylar quirked another questioning brow. "You'll understand soon," she said with some amusement.

The blonde man below was rubbing his temples in frustration. He waved to one of the people in the white coats and a woman cautiously approached holding a syringe filled with a dark red liquid.

"You don't want to do that," the younger version of Miranda said with a clear warning tone to her little voice. Kline waved again at a group of armed guards behind him and they disappeared for a moment before returning with a male and female in prison garb with their heads covered by black cloth bags. Their hands and feet were bound with heavy steel cuffings and chains, and slim electrical boxes were fastened to their chests, regulating a chemical drip. The coverings were removed from their faces to reveal Claire and Sylar.

"Now," Kline lost his false sweetness, "you're going to be a good little girl and accept a dose of our formula, or they're going to die. Again and again and again."

Sylar watched himself attempt to struggle through the daze he was under but his resistance was met with repetitious and painful electrical shocks from what appeared to be a cattle prod. He fell to his knees and Claire made a weak screaming sound, also trying to resist. One of the guards punched her heartily in the face and she joined Sylar on the floor. Two guns were trained on the backs of their heads. Miranda started to cry.

The woman with the syringe stepped closer and prepared a spot on the girl's arm for the injection. Miranda squirmed under her straps, moving to much for the technician to give her the shot and snapping her head at the hands that touched her with biting motions. Kline sighed heavily and nodded to one of the guards holding the prisoner's captive. A loud shot rang through the expanse of the bay area and Sylar fell face first the rest of the way to floor, blood pooling around his body. Claire and Miranda both screamed and struggled against their bonds.

Finally Kline lost his patience with the situation and snatched the needle away from the shaking hands of woman, forcefully stabbing it into Miranda's arm himself with little finesse. She shuddered violently for a moment and the space around her fluctuated, rippling slightly.

"Wonderful," the blonde man said with a twisted man as he clapped his hands. Sylar had healed from the gun shot and raised himself back to his knees in time to see a long line of captured people with abilities be paraded in front of the girl. "Take their powers, Miranda." She shook her head negatively and the guard stationed behind Claire gave her head a threatening nudge with his gun.

With tears in her eyes, one arm was released so that she could reach out to touch the prisoners individually. Among the collection of abilities being fed to the girl, Sylar saw Matt Parkman, Mohinder Suresh, Hiro Nakamura, Edgar, Peter, and virtually every 'special' he had ever known. After the line was finished being herded by for absorption, the guards hauled Claire and Sylar to their feet and dragged them away, out of sight again.

"As long as you cooperate, no one has to be harmed, darling," Kline said as he placed a kiss on top of Miranda's head the way a doting father would. A hand gripped Sylar's shoulder and the scene changed again.

They stood by watching silently as a helicopter landed over a battlefield. An army was fast approaching with countless soldiers and tanks in the ranks. Another version of Miranda was rudely shoved out of the aircraft and left behind as it fled the area. This little girl was maybe eight or nine, and she stood her ground without a hint of fear as all manner of weaponry was exercised on her.

Sylar recognized Claire's shielding ability generate around her, deflecting all of the incoming attacks. A high pitched sound frequency came from the girl and forced all of the exposed hostiles to shrink to the ground, covering their ears in pain. Spikes of flame shot up around them all and the earth was ripped down the middle of the field, quaking, shifting into a swirling vortex of dirt and rocks, swallowing the enemy and grinding them into oblivion before moving back into place. When the dust settled, the helicopter returned and landed just outside the crackling forest of fire that was left.

Kline stepped out from the vehicle with his arms outstretched as if he were waiting to be embraced by his prodigy. Miranda simply glared at him.

"When do I get to see them again?" she demanded. "I've done everything you've asked. Now I want to see them!"

"You're far from finished my dear. You have many miles to go before you sleep." He smirked at her with cruelty in his eyes.

"This is only the beginning," Miranda said gloomily, turning to Sylar. "He uses me to strike down anyone daring to oppose him. He aims to control the world and govern all of our kind. But…" Sylar gave her an encouraging look to continue. "I didn't fully grow into my power until I was an adult. My mother used to tell me that I had my father's temper." She smiled ruefully and he felt he knew where the conversation was going. "He refused to let me see them unless he was going to torture them in front me… One day… I finally lost it."

Suddenly they were facing the grown up Miranda back within the confines of the level six compound. Once again Sylar and Claire were brought out and unmasked, forced to kneel before Kline. She was staring vacantly at something invisible in the air above her and he snapped his fingers sharply to get her attention.

"Sometimes I wonder if you realize how much work I've put into making you as great as you are. I turned you into a true goddess, Miranda. You are now the strongest being to have ever walked this earth, and yet you are not grateful. You force me to do these things, my dear. Your insolence is what makes me hurt other people. Now, you will do as I say, or I will find a way to end them, permanently."

"No," she whispered, still refusing to look at him. "I'm not afraid anymore. Death is a merciful kindness next to you." Sylar watched as the air rippled around her. He could feel a power surge growing inside of her. Miranda raised her arms and the earth trembled violently under the motion.

"No!" Kline shouted at her as he was knocked from his feet.

"You don't have to do it this way!" Sylar screamed at her. He turned to face Claire and they shared a knowing glance. She nodded to some unspoken question and shifted so that the hands bound behind their backs could lace their fingers together.

"If you can destroy us, you can save us," Claire whispered gently, locking her eyes with Miranda. She slowly brought her hands together from their outstretched positions and the fabric of space and reality shuddered, crumbling and helpless against her pull.

The building's walls bowed inward dangerously and the floor fractured and split under the strain. Sylar looked on as his future self leaned over to kiss Claire one final time before their bodies were torn apart by Miranda's gravitational flux. As her hands came closer together all of their surroundings disintegrated into a dust cloud that was drawn into her palms. Once the hands touched, a flash of gray light was seen and then she opened them again to reveal a bright ball of energy from the condensed matter.

"He comes for us, you know. He always comes back," she muttered into the glowing sphere.

And then he was back in the little home office, his heart still thundering erratically against his chest.

"Now you see exactly what's at stake," a sweet and innocent little five year old voice called to him, interrupting his horror bound reverie. "And you're the only one that can change it."

"Why me?" She gave him such a sad little look.

"Because of the butterflies. I stepped on one and killed millions of people." Miranda left the room for a moment and reappeared holding a sheathed katana. Sylar readily recognized the sword, even without the Japanese symbol on the handle. It was the blade that had pierced his chest only a few years ago and very nearly ended his life.

"Hiro, gave me this to me as a gift. He told me the story of the mighty Kensei and how he saved the woman he loved from a dragon by cutting his own heart out." The sword was entirely to big for her tiny hands to handle, but she managed with carefully calculated movements.

"I stepped on one butterfly and killed millions. There is no way for me to change the variables without the butterfly effect rippling through the rest of time. The only way to save the past and protect the future is for me to never exist at all."

"I don't understand," he stuttered, audibly gulping.

"Yes you do," she smiled at him coyly. "Kline isn't exactly an immortal the way everyone thinks he is. He's actually sort of a blood empath. He draws his power from his family. So long as his descendants live, so will he and he has some amount of control over their powers through that connection. But once the blood stops flowing, he becomes vulnerable. The only trick, is that you can't kill him, not if you want her to live anyways. The second she's revived, he will be as well."

"How do I find her?" He couldn't conceal the desperation in his voice. Miranda wiggled her finger at him and he willing knelt down until they were almost eye to eye. She pulled at the collar of his shirt and tugged the strand of white yarn from its hiding place. Fingering the string that represented Claire's life she locked her gaze on his and shared one final vision.

"You know what you have to do now. It's time for you to go." Her eyes twinkled at him in a way melted his cold damaged heart. "Click your heels three times and say 'There's no place like home'."

"Seriously?" he eyed her cynically. Her gaze was unwavering. Sylar sighed but climbed back to his feet and followed through with the ridiculous notion.

"There's no place like home," he grumbled. Nothing happened except little Miranda bursting into a hysterical fit of giggles.

"Sorry. I just wanted to see you do that," she laughed. A tiny hand touched his and his vision shuddered.

When he opened his eyes he was standing in the exact same spot he had left from. Peter and Edgar were staring at him expectantly.

"I know what we have to do now," he roughly whispered.

"What?" Edgar nearly growled.

"You didn't even go anywhere," Peter groaned.

"Oh, I went somewhere alright," Sylar muttered under his breath, ignoring their protests as he walked back into the mobile home for the last time. He carefully studied the time map in Miranda's room, noting how many strings were intertwined with the dark blue strand that was labeled for himself. He disentangled the strand and watched as the map fell to the floor. With one of their strings remaining, the timeline continued to exist. But with both his and Claire's strands removed it collapsed and ceased to be.

"As you all remember, when I was a young woman my family had taken me to Coyote Sands," Angela began her story. "Among the people that I met there, Charles, Daniel, Bobby, that was also the place where I first met Adam Monroe. He was acting as a counselor and director for a short time.

"One day Adam had pulled me aside after learning about my dreams and prompted me to tell him about some of the terrible apocalyptic visions I had. At the time none of the things I saw had made any sense to me, but I knew that they were events that I was meant to keep from happening. Thus, why we formed the Company to begin with. Little did I know that at the time I had revealed the worst of my dreams to Adam, he immediately repeated the information to a man named Kline. Kline became very interested in my ability and kept tabs on me for years, watching and waiting for something to happen.

"My first nightmare that I had all those years ago only began to be realized within the last few years." Angela removed a handkerchief from her purse and gently dabbed at her eyes. "Shortly after Claire was born, Kline officially approached me about a business proposal. He knew that I had controlling interests over the child and he wanted to take her. He knew what she would become, what her power would be, and he wanted to use it to help him complete the Miranda project. He said that he had waited for a thousand years for her to come along.

"Naturally my first reaction was outrage. I couldn't afford for the world to know about Claire because of Nathan's impending future, but I wasn't about to let her be taken away for some experiment either."

"That's why you sent us after her mother," Noah mumbled to the floor. There was a dawning of understanding taking over him but it wasn't enough to lift his spirits knowing that he would never see his precious Claire Bear again.

"Yes. I already knew what would happen with the fire. It had to be done so that Claire could be hidden from him. And then… after the incident with the Sullivan Brothers' carnival, she unwittingly exposed herself not only to the world but also to Kline. He immediately contacted me again. That time however, he was not nearly as patient.

"He explained to me that if we allowed the Miranda project to complete, we would have a weapon at our disposal more powerful than anything I could have ever imagined. We could sway the world under our control and bend the balances in favor of good. With Miranda we could accomplish more than the Company ever could have."

"It's always about the power with you isn't it," Noah blurted out as more of a statement than a question. She dabbed at her eyes again, smiling ruefully to hold back the tightness in her throat.

"Kline is a very powerful man, Noah. He made that quite clear when he also mentioned Peter's life as well as those of your family being in jeopardy if I didn't comply." Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her. Matt sighed and hunched his shoulders as he replaced his head between his knees. Mohinder turned his gaze back to the floor, scratching at several days worth of stubble on his chin.

None of them should have been surprised. They would never fully escape the thumbs of higher powers that willed their lives along for their own devices. It was almost a physical burden, the knowledge that with their abilities, also came responsibilities that made them frighteningly easy to manipulate.

"I conceded to him in an effort to protect us all. But it came with a heavy price. The department has been under his indirect guidance since the beginning. Claire and Sylar were given specific assignments to take down anyone that represented a threat to the Miranda project, and through their trials their relationship was sealed. The bond that they now share insures that Kline will have his way. Their abilities are essential to the project."

"Claire's dead," Noah whispered as he made an awkward choking sound like a repressed sob getting stuck in his throat.

"Yes, she is for now." Angela frowned heavily. "But that hasn't stopped the dreams. Sylar is going to find her and attempt to revive her."

Save the cheerleader, save the world. Matt perked up at the tiny thought that slipped through her defenses.

"Sylar went off the deep end. He's not coming back. Not to save anyone anyways. He might come back to kill us all, but that's it." Suresh winced at Parkman's harsh tone.

"We're all very well aware of his deranged state, Matt. But… he would come back for her. I've made extensive endeavors into studying them together. Even if he doesn't realize it himself, he loves her." Mohinder clearly stated it as a fact and Noah grimaced at the idea.

"Yes, he does," Angela added with a thin lipped pensive expression. No one really liked the idea of them being together or would really ever get used to it after everything they had been through at the psychopath's hands.

"In the future I dreamt about last night, he comes for her and Kline captures them both. He forces me to give him the formula-"

"The formula was destroyed," Matt muttered darkly.

"We keep copies of everything dear." They all scowled at her for that revelation. "As I was saying, I give him the formula. He takes their abilities as well as the catalyst."

"And creates this Miranda thing," Noah finished the thought.

"Yes. I've made a lot of mistakes, but it's not to late to repair this one before the real damage is done."

"We have to prevent Sylar from reviving Claire?" Mohinder asked edgily. The only person to have ever successfully killed the man was currently dead, and the few times they had tried to take him down it had taken the full force of everyone in union. Even that wasn't enough though. Sylar was the strongest of them all then and now he had grown even more powerful. Nothing was going to stop to him from what he really wanted.

"We're all going to die aren't we?" Matt asked gloomily.

"Yes," she answered quietly. "But the fate of the world in is our hands. If Miranda is allowed to exist then it won't only be our own blood that gets spilled." Everyone sunk their heads under the dark thoughts rolling over them.

"I guess it's a good thing we have a plan then," Peter piped up with a sideways grin. The two groups looked at one another torn between happiness and contempt.

"Sylar!" Noah shouted, raising his gun.

"Not this again," Matt sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Noah," Angela glowered. Sylar remained steady in his morose position.

"Even if you hadn't told us everything you just did, I can't just let him walk out of here, Angela. He brutally murdered his partner. He slaughtered handfuls of agents. He set part of the God damn city on fire!"

"I didn't do those things. I killed the agents trying to get to Claire to save her, but the other things… I'm innocent of that and I can prove it." The aura around him was dark and unstable but no outward threat was emanated. The groups converged into one another until they were all standing in a circle in the cold hallway.

"Hold hands," he quietly directed. Everyone joined one another in contact and with Peter and Matt's assistance Sylar's memories were projected through them all. Visions of every event that had come to pass since the fiasco started flashed across their minds. They all saw the truth in his innocence of the crimes he had been condemned for. They all saw the truth behind the mimic and Kline and everything he had learned from the time line as well as his brief encounter with the future Miranda. Once the connection was over everyone stumbled backward from one another, shaking their heads to clear the fog.

"So what's the plan?" Noah asked, panting slightly.

"First, you're all going to spend the day with the people you love. It might be our last," Sylar punctuated each word with a direct look into the faces of the people around him.

Peter rushed through the door of his apartment and immediately swept a startled Emma into his arms, embracing her tightly and joining their mouths in a prolonged passionate kiss. Her head swam with the rush of his need for her contact and left her a little breathless. He released her back to the floor and but refused to relinquish his hold on her waist.

"What's gotten into you?" she half spoke, half signed with a wide smile of pleasant surprise plastered to her face.

"I missed you so much," he mumbled into her neck, nuzzling her softly and dotting delicate kisses along her skin. "I never want to spend another day without you by my side," he added in a rush, locking his eyes with hers in an intense gaze. Before she knew what was happening Peter had let go of her and dropped to his knee, pulling a little black velvet box from his jacket pocket. He revealed the shining ring that carefully rested inside and looked up to her shocked expression with nothing but contentment and love in his eyes.

"Emma Marie Coolidge," he started with a charming sideways smile, "I love you more than anyone I have ever loved before. I know our lives are crazy and that scares you sometimes, but you're the only thing that has kept me in one piece through all of this. I want to spend every day of the rest of our lives coming home to you. I want to stay up late playing music with you and laughing with you and I want to have a family with you. I want to wake up to you every morning and I want to spend every moment making you smile." Tears flooded her eyes and she brought her hands up to cover her mouth. Peter stood beside her again and removed the hands so that he could rest his on the sides of her face.

"Marry me, Emma," he beamed at her. She just nodded her head in the affirmative as more tears spilled over her cheeks. He took her hand and slid the twinkling rock onto her finger. They looked longingly into one another's doting eyes for a long moment before their lips collided again in heated passion.

"Matt, where have you been?" Janice asked with concern as he walked through the door. He didn't answer immediately, opting instead to scoop his son up into his arms and join his wife in a loving family embrace.

"The usual. Dealing with psycho drama and saving the world," he said in a hushed voice as he closed his eyes and held them even tighter, taking a deep breath of his wife's hair. "You know I love you, right?" he asked pulling back to look into her confused eyes.

"Of course," she responded smiling. Matt joined her in the kitchen to help prepare breakfast and enjoyed the moment of spending time with his family at the table. They talked, joked and laughed heartily when little Matty managed to squish eggs into his hair in the way that only a small child can.

After the meal was finished Matt helped Janice clean up the dishes, the gentle smile never leaving his face. He read his son his favorite story and kissed his delicate forehead when the boy laid down for his nap. Without warning or hesitation he swept his wife off of her feet and carried her into their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Mohinder?" Maya asked in surprise when she opened her door and found the man patiently waiting for her.

"Hello, Maya," he greeted softly with a hint of a smile. She paused, narrowing her eyes at him briefly but welcomed him inside of her apartment. He shuffled his feet uncertainly for a moment.

"I, um. I know that… we, I, haven't always been the best man to be around," he stuttered, over thinking his words. "And I'm sorry for that. But, for what it's worth, I do still care about you," he finished awkwardly. She turned her face to the floor before looking back at him with a timid smile.

"I haven't always been the best person either, Mohinder," she shyly admitted.

"This may sound strange, but I was wondering if you would mind spending the day with me?" They shared genuine smiles.

"Hello, Sandra," Noah greeted when his former wife opened the door.

"Noah," she nodded politely. "What's going on?" He stepped inside and took a seat at the dining table, looking around for Doug and silently giving thanks that he wasn't there. Sandra joined him at the table with two steaming cups of coffee. Bennett recounted all of the information he had about Claire to her, comforting her when she began to cry over the loss of their daughter, and cheering her up again when he carefully revealed that they had a plan to correct the situation.

Lyle bounded down the stairs and also took a seat at the table. The family happily reunited, if only for a while and spent the day as if the last few years of their lives had never happened.

"It was always you, Lydia," Edgar proclaimed with a sad smile as he placed a bouquet of the departed woman's favorite flowers over her grave. "I think you'd be proud of me. Working with the right people to save the world these days." A solitary tear rolled over his cheek and he wiped it away with another smile.

"Maybe I'll be seeing you again real soon," he added, trailing his fingers over the little wooden cross that was the only indicator she had ever been buried there.

Sylar entered the old watch shop, pausing briefly at the door for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He glanced over all of the clocks inhabiting the place, noting the perfect silence inside except for the steady rhythm of his own breathing. All of the time pieces were still frozen in place from the day their hands had randomly spun around and stopped.

He timidly approached the ruined section of the building that had rendered it to a condemned status after he and Claire had shared their first real kiss there. He bent over to run his fingers over the burnt circle. A small half smile crept over his lips as the ashen fingers pressed against them, remembering the way she had felt there, the way she tasted. At least he had gotten a little time with her, however short it had been. For as long as eternity lasted for him, he would never let those memories slip away. Sylar would continue to dream about her, feel her in his arms and smell her in the air until the earth gave way to nothingness.

He feebly crumbled to the floor and placed himself in the exact position he had been when their lips had touched. He crawled over the surfaces of the spot with his hands, watching the event play out before him again and again.

Somewhere along the way the white string of yarn that had been dutifully resting around his neck found its way into his palms. The simple strand wouldn't last more than a hundred years, but he could watch her through it until it finally disintegrated in his fingers.

"And I thought fireworks were supposed to be a big deal," he chuckled to himself.