When he wakes up, it isn't all that unusual that there's the cold barrel of a gun pointed at his head. However, it is quite strange that he can't remember where he is.

He drowsily figures out the probable chains of cause and effect, fitting together the pieces effortlessly. The only time when his memory could possibly not keep track of everything would be when his powers were gone- there must have been some kind of event, an eclipse, probably. He usually does idiotic things in celebration during eclipses. Interestingly, though, the fabric his face is pressed against is one he doesn't recognize, white and plushy. What has he wandered into?

"Awake, are we?"

Oh- wait. He knows that voice. He knows it well, actually. He and that voice have a very long and complicated history.

"Good morning, Claire," he mumbles into the fabric, turning his head a bit so he can look at her. She's glaring down at him in her sweatpants and shirt, hair tied to the side in a ponytail. It's a little weird that he actually likes her better this way then he does when she's all dressed up and flitting about, pretending to be a stone-cold devil woman.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," she hisses, face bright red.

So it's going to be one of those mornings. "Because I can't die. And if you try to kill me, you'll just get blood all over your couch," he drawls, grinning.

Claire considers this for a moment, and he notices something unusual. Her eyes are glazed over, and she isn't really reacting to his words. It doesn't seem like she's so much as listening to him- or, if she is listening, she isn't believing. That's new. That's quite a development.

"Not good enough," she says dully, and he heard the click of the safety being released. It strikes him- just as an unimportant fact- that if anyone knows how to put him out of action for what could effectively be forever, Claire does. She'd done it before, far back in the past, though not quite perfectly enough. But he'd thought she wouldn't do it again.

"Not good enough at all," she repeats, not looking at him. "Look, Sylar, did you honestly think I'd believe you?"

He doesn't like where this conversation is going. "Well, duh, though I'm not sure about what."

"Last night." She still isn't looking at him, damn it. "You said you weren't killing anymore. That's a total lie."

(He said that? If he wasn't careful, people were going to start thinking of him as a softy.)

"So, I want you to think very carefully before you answer my next question, because your life depends on it." She pauses for a moment, and then looks back at him (finally). "Have you gone good?"

There's only one answer he can possibly give. "Yes. Now why-"

And briefly, he heard a loud explosion of noise, very, very close to his head.

But then he hears nothing anymore.

-

I'm sorry, everyone, but this is the end. Schoolwork and real life things have me too busy to spare much time for writing, and when I do write, I need it to be for more real-life venues. I've been looking for a way to finish up this collection once and for all a while now, and ending it on a special three-parter seemed like the right way to go.

I'd like to thank my lovely, lovely reviewers for sticking with me this whole time, especially:

Malvolia: Haven't seen you around in a while, but I loved your in-depth reviews while they lasted. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and reply.

Ani Sparrow: I've loved your reviews, and loved talking to you over PM. Keep up with your own stories, too!

Badkidoh: You've stuck with me through every chapter since chapter 2. I don't know how I'll ever repay you, but I can truthfully say that I have appreciated it very much, and have looked forward to your comments every time.

Everyone else: You guys rock. No, seriously.

I'll still be hanging around, reading if not writing, so I hope to see more stories by all of you in the near future!

Love,

- Snow

P.S.: If you haven't guessed yet, april fools!