Claire hadn't slept so well that night, but she couldn't stand to stay in bed too late into the morning. She needed to do something.

There were plenty of groceries and the house was neat as a pin, so she decided to venture out. She didn't really have a lot of money, but she figured some window-shopping wouldn't hurt.

She went to her favorite mall in Odessa and wandered around aimlessly, looking at the shiny necklaces and rings in one window, trying perfume samples at another store. She was walking out of one store, in which she'd been naughty and bought a scarf, and had her head down, looking in the bag. She was so preoccupied she ran into someone.

"Oh, sorry, I--" But she didn't finish her sentence. The person she ran into was Mr. Nakamura.

She felt dread in her stomach. She had been afraid of seeing him again, even more than running into Sylar.

But he smiled cordially as if this were a casual chance meeting. "Hello, my dear. Lose something?"

She swallowed. "No, I—I don't think so."

"Hmm," the Japanese businessman said, looking around. "You seem to be missing a partner."

Claire's face darkened. "He left me."

Nakamura nodded. "Yes. Yes, I know dear. That was very irresponsible of him."

"Yes," Claire agreed. "And since I don't know where he went, I've moved on with my life."

"Have you, Claire?" Nakamura asked pointedly. "Is this really the life you want?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Look, Mr. Nakamura. I know you gave me the mustang and the money to do good where I could. I'll be glad to give you the car back, and as for money…well, I don't really have the means to do that. The point is, I failed to reform Sylar. I'm sorry if I disappointed you." She began to walk away.

"You still have a mission," Nakamura called out. Claire stopped, and turned around.

"A mission? Oh yes, right. Some great evil that is going to threaten us all. Well, let the people who have real power, people like Peter, deal with it. I can't do anything. All I can do is heal. That's not enough to save the world!"

"Claire, your role in this all is vital," Nakamura countered. "We need Sylar to succeed. Only you can change him."

"And look what a great job I did!" Claire exclaimed. "He leaves me without saying goodbye. He's probably gone back to his old ways."

Nakamura was silent for a while. Then he said gently. "He hasn't, Claire. He needs you."

Claire scoffed. "No one needs me. That's why I'm alone." She turned and started walking again.

"The world will die, Claire!" Nakamura called out.

"Good. Let it," Claire called out in reply. "We're all better off." She kept walking.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He was back in the forest, but he didn't care. He was kneeling in the dirt, his head in his hands as he sobbed. He couldn't believe it. He had killed Chandra.

Sylar was at his side, yelling at him. "Stop it! Stop your crying, you goddamn baby! I told you! Chandra had to be taken care of! He knew about you! With him gone, you were free to do what you needed to do!"

Still Gabriel continued to sob.

He felt Sylar's hand rub his back. "Listen: there was no other way. How else were you going to get all these powers?" Gently he pried Gabriel's hands away from his face and made him look at him. "Think of all the things you can do: the power to move things with just a thought! The power to create mini-blizzards! Imagine—imagine skimming War and Peace just once, and knowing everything that happened in complete detail! Imagine being able to power an entire city at your will! These are all the things that are now available to you!"

"But in order to do that, I have to kill—and kill—and kill!" Gabriel retorted in a stammering voice.

"Let go of your guilt, Gabriel," Sylar said gently. "That's what's causing your pain. You don't care about these people—you don't know them! They were small, petty little creatures that mean nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Once you let go, you'll be free! And you'll be whole again—don't you want that?"

Gabriel sniffed. "Yes. I don't want to spend the rest of my life here."

Sylar eyed him cautiously. "Maybe I should take you to the memory of your next most important discovery."

They were at a bar. Gabriel felt himself stiffen up the moment they walked in. The noise, the smoke, the crowdedness—he hated places like this. The patronage didn't make him feel any better either. They were older versions of all the boys he dreaded in high school: the jocks, the gearheads, and such. He couldn't enter into company with guys like this without the feeling they were going to tear him apart.

Gabriel was unnerved, but Sylar was cool and calm, he noticed. His face twisted into a perpetual smirk, moving effortlessly amongst these men like they were flies perched on a windowsill. Gabriel admired Sylar's confidence; it was something he never had. Then again, if Sylar was telling the truth and they were the same person, then Sylar's confidence would be Gabriel's as well.

"Stop," Sylar told him. They were now in front of a pack of bikers, all of them on the border of inebriation and laughing like a pack of hyenas.

Sylar held out his hand and pointed. "That one, there," he told Gabriel, indicating one of the bikers with a husky frame and curly brown hair. "He's special."

Gabriel was unconvinced. The man looked like simple addition would be a challenge to him; how could he have any ability? "How do you know?"

"I tracked him for weeks. He's a mechanic. He takes great pleasure in getting wasted, slapping his girlfriend around, and neglecting his kid. And he has the power of cryo-kinesis."

"What?"

"He can freeze things with his touch. Create snowstorms with a thought."

"And—and he has this power? This—this—loser?"

Sylar nodded. "What do you think he does with this power? Keep his beers cold?"

Gabriel felt indignation begin to rise in him as the man simultaneously laughed and pushed one of his "friends" down on the ground.

"Fuck you, man. I ain't giving you nothing," he said to his victim.

"You owe me money, Dave. Don't try to deny it!" the smaller man said from the ground.

Dave laughed heartily. Some of the other members of the group laughed along. "I ain't denying it, man. I just ain't giving it to you!" The rest of the group had a good laugh as they watched the other man get up and walk out of the bar.

Dave's smile fell when he noticed Sylar staring at him. He put his beer down and walked up to him, slowly. "Now just what the hell are you staring at, little fucker?" he grabbed Sylar by the collar. "You wanna mess with me?"

Gabriel gasped, but Sylar remained cool. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he hissed to his attacker.

"Yeah, man? Well, you don't know what I can do either," with that, the hand grabbing Sylar's collar began to send icicles into his clothing. Sylar trembled from the cold. Abruptly Dave released him. "You ain't worth my time, faggot," he spat, and walked to the restroom.

As the patrons whispered to themselves and some of them laughed at the scene, Gabriel helped Sylar to his feet. "Are you all right?"

Sylar brushed himself off and rolled his head from side to side. "It's only a memory. I'm fine."

"We need to go after him," Gabriel said with conviction.

Sylar smiled in surprise. "Yes! Do you remember what happened next?"

Gabriel tried to remember. "We cornered him in the restroom."

"No, Gabriel," Sylar said with a smile. "You cornered him in the restroom."

And then he was there, in that dank, damp, disgusting room. He looked around, but Sylar was not there.

But that moronic muscle-head was. Whistling some inane tune while he emptied his bladder, he finished and zipped up his pants. When he turned around, Gabriel was standing there, leaning against the far wall.

Dave narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck do you want now, freak?"

Gabriel's expression didn't change. With one deft movement of his hand, the sink came off of the wall, and in a burst of water, it smashed into the biker's head.

The big man lay crumpled on the floor, his head a bloody mess. His blood and the water from the ruptured pipe mixed together and made a flood. Gabriel trudged through the ankle-deep liquid and knelt down, looking at the cracked skull. He could see it, just as he saw it in Brian Davis: where in the brain the power came from. He laughed over the bloody corpse.

Oh, these stupid, little people! Nature was a fool, granting such power to them. But Gabriel was going to fix all of that. He was going to take those powers for himself, because only he could truly appreciate them. He would take what was his, and when he had all he needed, he'd shape the world in his own image.

And then he was back in the forest. Sylar was waiting for him, smiling.

"Well, Gabriel?" he asked expectantly.

In response, Gabriel held up his hands and closed his eyes. First it was one snowflake, then another, and soon it was snowing.

Gabriel smiled, feeling the snow on his face and hair. It was coming back to him, all of it! All the things he could do. He made himself hover above the ground, and he spun in the snow. He focused on a snowflake, and brought it into sharp focus: the shape, the texture of it. His ears picked up the sound of the flakes hitting the trees and the ground. He closed his eyes, and he was able to remember everything he had just seen, every detail, every nuance. He held up his hand like a radioactive torch, and he lit up the forest with the incredible light. Around and around he did his hovering dance. He was no longer Gabriel—he was Sylar. And he was ready to announce it to the world.

"I am Sylar! I am Sylar!" he cried. He was going to own the world. He could do anything! The forest resounded with his joyful song.

"I…am…Sylar! I…am….Sylar!" he called out.

Faster and faster he spun around the trees, savoring the effortlessness, the absolute freedom denied him for so long but now beating as strongly within him as his own heart. He whipped out his hand to create more snow, only to have it slam against the trunk of a tree and graze roughly across its spiky bark. He cried out in pain, and fell out of his hover and down to the ground.

He held his hand. It was bleeding. He gasped and looked around. Sylar was not there. But he was! Gabriel was Sylar! And…he was hurt!

"How could I be hurt?" he asked out loud. "I'm Sylar! I can do anything!"

But the cut remained on his hand. It didn't heal.

"You failed," a voice said. Sylar looked up to see the people he met in the desert earlier, his "victims," he now realized. It was Brian Davis who had spoken.

"Fail? I never fail! I'm Sylar!" he shouted.

Charlie Andrews kneeled down to where he was. "You did fail. There was one power you were never able to attain. The one you wanted most."

Sylar looked at her, wide-eyed. "When?"

Charlie stood up and helped Sylar to his feet. He felt their hands pushing him as they walked through the forest. They were at the very edge of it, and pulling back the branches, Sylar saw a school. It looked familiar to him.

They pushed him toward it. He looked back to see their faces fading with the forest. He turned back and began to walk towards the school, night already beginning to fall.

He was walking through the halls and he heard movement. Someone was trying to run from him.

The next thing he knew, he was using his power to cut open the head of a girl, a cheerleader. She had something he wanted. She was screaming. He felt someone tugging on his arm, trying to fight him. Finding this an annoyance, he pointed at her and sent her flying horizontally against the lockers.

As he killed the other girl, he realized the one he'd thrown was now standing. He turned and looked at her. The mangled flesh of her face was beginning to re-form itself. Then, it was done. She was whole again.

He gasped. He knew this girl! Not just from this memory, but from…somewhere else. She stared at him, a mixture of genuine fear and defiance.

He put his arms down, suddenly feeling weak. "Claire," he uttered, and he was back in the forest.

CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

As he promised, Zach came over that evening. He came up to the house and knocked, waiting for her to answer the door.

But there was no answer. He knocked again. "Claire?" When he still didn't get an answer, he looked over at the driveway. Her car was parked there, so she had to be home.

Curious, he rounded the side of the house. "Claire?" he called out again. When he got to the back of the house, he found her sitting in the porch swing.

She turned to look at him and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." He came and sat down next to her. They sat there for a while, not saying anything. It felt nice to just sit, but Zach couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable in the silence.

He was about to say something lightweight to break the quiet when she said, "Mr. Nakamura found me."

Zach looked at her. "Okay. So he wants you to go back to what you were doing before."

Claire sighed. "Yes. But it's not just that. He wants me to…track down my partner."

Zach was puzzled. "You had a partner?"

She turned to look at him. "He's the key to saving the world. It was my job to…reform him…I guess."

"What did he do?"

She chuckled bitterly. "I don't need to tell you what he did. All I have to do is tell you who it is. Sylar."

Zach actually got off of the swing and backed away in surprise. "Him? How—how the hell could you go off with him? Claire, he tried to kill you!"

"I know," Claire said calmly. "But he's the only one who can save the world, supposedly."

Zach rolled his eyes. "We're all going to be saved by a serial killer? If that's the case, I think I'd rather get blown to kingdom come."

Claire looked away. "I'm not sure if the world is worth saving."

Zach came back and sat down next to her. "Claire. You need to tell me what happened to you. I didn't want to push you, but I need to know." He pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I care about you, you know."

It had been what she had been avoiding, but she saw now that she couldn't do it any longer. Taking a deep breath, Claire told him about the places she'd been with Sylar. About Paul, the janitor who killed women by getting their names, about the copy-cat killers that captured and tortured her, and about the little boy who was kidnapped so he could find someone. When she rescued him, she learned that his father had left him and his mother had been killed by the kidnappers. She tried to weave Sylar as little as she could into the details of her stories, but it would be impossible to leave him out completely.

When she was done, Zach just sat there, staring at nothing in particular, absolutely silent. To Claire, she had kept Sylar at the edges of her story, but to Zach he had been everywhere, at every turn and corner.

But Claire didn't see this. She was confused. "Zach? Say something."

He didn't for what seemed a long time. Then slowly he turned to her and said, "You're in love with him."

She was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"It's so clear. Don't you see it, Claire? It annoys you and frustrates you, but he's always there! If you didn't love him, you never would have gone on that trip in the first place."

Claire groaned. "And now he's left me. What difference does it make how I might feel about him?"

"Well, like you said," Zach replied, getting off of the swing, "he's supposed to save the world. Maybe you're the one to bring him to do it." He began to walk away.

Claire stood up in surprise. "Wait!" She took hold of his arm. "Zach, where are you going?"

He smiled sadly. "You need to go, Claire. As much as I'd like you to stay…I know you can't stay here."

"So…even you are making me go save the world?"

Zach grinned and pinched her arm. "Come on. Let's go get you some supplies for the road."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Gabriel tried to remember who she was. That blonde haired girl with the knowing, sad smile.

"Forget her," a voice said behind him. He turned around to find Sylar standing behind him.

"Who is Claire?" Gabriel demanded.

Sylar shook his head. "She's the reason why you're here. The reason why you and I separated. You were so close, Gabriel! You were whole again! You need to forget about her and focus on what's important."

"But…she's the one I've wanted all this time," Gabriel realized.

"Yes, yes," Sylar said impatiently. "And once we're back together and out of the hospital, we'll track her down and take her healing factor."

"No," Gabriel answered absentmindedly, looking around the corners of the forest. "That's not what I meant." He closed his eyes and held up his hand, remembering.

He was still in the forest, but he wasn't alone. She was in his arms, pressed against a tree. She was moaning, and his head was buried in her neck. It was the most incredible moment of his life, even more incredible than all the things he could do with his powers. He gasped and pulled away, as the memory faded.

"I was the tiger, she was the lamb," he said softly. "I was the predator, and she was my prey. But I couldn't do it. Because the tiger fell—"

His sentence was cut short as Sylar's fist made contact with his face. "Don't say it!" Sylar growled. Gabriel fell against the tree. Before he could react, Sylar pointed his finger at Gabriel and sent him flying through the forest brush, then coming to hit against a tree.

"You moron! Being led by your penis! It's your fault we became so weak!" Sylar roared. In a second he was upon Gabriel, grabbing him by the arms and throwing him to the ground again.

Gabriel groaned. Slowly, shakily, he got back on his feet. He turned to face his alter ego, whose fists were lit up in a radioactive blaze. He swallowed, but remained firm.

"You're not going to keep her from me," Gabriel said.

Sylar laughed. Then he sent a burst of radiation Gabriel's way. He felt it penetrate his skin, burning him from the inside out. He flew through the air, screaming.

He was on the ground, his eyes shut tight because it was so bright it hurt to open them. But he could hear Sylar's snide voice in his ear. "You were wrong, Gabriel," he whispered. "Claire is nothing. When it comes down to it, there's just you and me. I am the tiger. You are the lamb. Oh, I was a fool. I thought that I needed to join with you to get out of here. But now I see that I'm so much stronger than you. I just need to push you way down deep inside, and then I'll wake up in control of this body." He wrapped his fingers around Gabriel's throat, pressing as hard as he could.

Gabriel's eyes shot open. He couldn't breathe. The light was fading, and everything was getting darker and darker. Night was falling over the forest.

"Yes," Sylar purred. "That's it. Give in, Gabriel. I make a much better you. And besides, no one's going to miss you."