Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

09 December, 2009

They were back in the hotel room, and Sylar considered for several long moments that this scene wasn't entirely unfamiliar. He had, in his high school years, spent more than a few hours helping pretty blondes study. Although, Sylar conceded, most of those blondes had been using him to do their work for them. Claire was certainly not doing that. He had met her at a diner for breakfast, she was entirely laden down with books and papers and note-cards. She had been anxious to get started, and Sylar had waylaid her urgency until she had at least eaten a few waffles and had a cup of coffee.

"I'm not bad at math," Claire told him as she settled atop the bed, splaying her study aides around her, "I just don't want to get overconfident and then flunk."

Sylar dragged an armchair to the edge of the bed and settled into it, picking up one of Claire's notebooks and scanning the writing. "Probability," he asked in curiousity.

She nodded, picking up her pen and snapping the cap off, "Intro to Mathematical Statistics."

"What happened to calculus," Sylar chuckled, picking up a stack of note-cards and dropping the notebook.

"I took it in high school, AP," Claire informed him.

"Advanced Placement," Sylar sat back in his chair, "I never knew."

"I didn't exactly spread it around, plus I never graduated from high school, I just got my GED."

Sylar smiled, "That's still impressive, Claire."

She sighed heavily, "Not really. My first roommate convinced me I didn't have a plan and I was going to fail, so I let her persuade me into taking this test for an Algebra class, I freaked out and ran. Well, actually I fell asleep and dreamed homeland security agents were trying to capture me. I realized after I left that I had solved the problem. I think I just felt trapped, threatened."

"I can't say I've ever had that dream, naked and giving a speech to the cheerleading team, yes," Sylar chuckled, reaching forward to squeeze Claire's knee in comfort.

"And your distracting me," Claire grumbled, rolling her head back and stretching slightly before straightening, game face on. "Okay, quiz away!"

"Demanding," Sylar muttered. "Classical probability."

"Is used when each outcome in a sample space is equally likely to occur," Claire recited, her eyes rolling back as she recalled the information.

"Equation," Sylar prompted.

Her lower lip found itself tucked between white teeth, before Claire spat out the equation. "The equations are the hard part, I can figure out how to get the answer but I need the context."

"Now who is distracting who," Sylar smirked, "I think you may need a reminder to stay focused." He leaned forward and pulled at the thick hair tie around her wrist, letting it snap back sharply. Claire jerked her hand away at the sensation. "Did I hurt you," he asked, lower lip sticking out mockingly.

"No," Claire grumbled.

It hadn't hurt. It was an odd pressure, but it didn't hurt, nothing hurt her anymore. Six days ago Claire would have told him, quite viciously, that she couldn't feel anything anymore. That it was his fault. It wasn't. Well, Claire at least wasn't going to blame it on him. Instead she was beginning to come around to the idea that she was still evolving. Her ability negated the need for pain. Pain was the body's way of telling the brain that there was danger, without pain there would be no warning to remove a hand from a scalding pan to prevent burning. Claire's evolution would heal any wound or imperfection, so there was no need for pain. The obvious next step would be the elimination of the unnecessary characteristic, and, for Claire, after Sylar's impromptu surgery her body had come to the realization that pain was useless to her.

No, was the easy answer, the answer that Claire didn't have to explain or rationalize to Sylar. No was an end to the conversation, she could pretend, that would be easier. So Claire urged Sylar to continue quizzing her, smiling when he rewarded her correct answers with fragments of candy canes and her wandering mind with snaps of the hair tie.

It was a little cute watching Sylar quiz her, his face would furrow in focus as he figured out how to ask the question and then the guarded, hopeful, expression as he waited for her to answer. Claire enjoyed watching him; he seemed unworried, as though this was natural. Claire could almost picture him doing this, a younger him, studying in college.

"Did you ever go to college," she asked softly.

He shook his head, "Trade school, I audited a few seminars, but no."

"Did you want to," Claire asked.

Sylar nodded, threading a hand through his dark hair, "At one point. It just wasn't in the cards. Once I took over the shop I didn't have the time, but I still loved reading, I read everything I could get my hands on."

"Peter said your apartment was filled with books…and jars of things," Claire trailed off.

Sylar let out a breath, "Yes, that was a particularly dark period in my life. My ability drove my desire for knowledge of all things, I devoured books. I wanted to figure out how everything worked. I still do, want to figure it out, but the drive has lessened, or I've learned to control it a little."

Sylar wasn't one to confess the inner workings of his mind, but he was building bridges. Sylar had spent much of his life feeling inadequate, invisible…insignificant. Sylar's ability had driven him to gather powers to make himself visible, powerful, something for once. He had considered Claire's power tantamount to invincibility, a golden ticket to success. The moment he activated it thought, his fingers tracking the swirls of her brain it had begun to change.

Sylar had left her high on the new power, breathing exultations of her specialness. When he had come down it had set in, the consequences of his actions. His success was fraught with one big flaw: invincibility truly meant immortality. Sylar had spent so much of his life before the eclipse alone, that the concept of being alone forever was an immeasurable weight pressing down on his chest. That weight had pushed Sylar to seek companionship. Sylar had allowed Angela to pull the wool over his eyes, he had become an agent. When that possibility began to break Sylar let Elle in again, someone who had broken him, tore him down.

Claire was it for Sylar, she always had been. She would be just as alone as he would be, they both lived under the same weight. Sylar was determined to build the bridges that would help lift the weight.

Books set away, Claire rolled onto her stomach, Sylar laying by her side already tapping away at her laptop. She leaned into him, looking at the screen as he navigated through website after website.

"What about that one," Claire pointed out a tall building pictured against a dark sky.

Sylar shook his head, "Nope, not nice enough."

Claire rolled her eyes. Considering she was living in a shoebox at the moment and her last actual hotel stay had been less a hotel and more a box, Claire was impressed by anything that looked like it had been professionally cleaned. Sylar on the other hand was apparently trying to find the absolute best hotel in Chicago, clearly he was going to attempt to break the bank, or at least get some mileage out of his Midas touch. Not that Claire was going to complain, she didn't mind the idea of being pampered, of exploring a city with someone, and making new memories.

"Suite," Sylar read aloud, "terrace, soaker tub, ice skating on the roof…"

"Mm," Claire moaned, "I do love a good bubble bath."

Sylar lifted his left hand from the computer, moving it around Claire to rest on her side, stroking gently. "I'll wash your back."

Claire smirked and looked at him, "Does that mean I get to wash yours?

He started, his eyes widening a fraction, imperceptible to the observer. Sylar's face relaxed into a smile, "Sounds like a plan."

A/N: 9/25. The next 3 days will be hell for me. We are in the final two weeks before break and I have a million things to prepare on top of several early morning meetings, which I am dreading. Fingers crossed I will be able to get everything out on time. On top of that I think I've talked myself into writing a 12-day Christmas fic for another fandom (on top of this story) starting Sunday. So…you know, this should be a fun time. Hope you enjoyed, ta!