Title: Forget Me Not

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I only wish this was all mine.

Summary: Set around Shadowboxing; Claire discovers an amnesiac Sylar wandering around and takes it upon herself to help him.

I'm not calling you a liar, just don't lie to me

I'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me

I'm not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me

I love you so much, I'm gonna let you kill me.

~ I'm Not Calling You a Liar; Florence + The Machine

Chapter 3

Claire clicked the light switch illuminating her sitting room and eating area. Setting her keys and clutch purse on the table to her left next to where Angela's present still sat from earlier. Bringing the box across the table towards her, she realized the front door had yet to close. Turning she saw Sylar standing awkwardly at the threshold, as though waiting for a specific invite. "You can come in," she announced softly, endlessly amazed by this sheepish man before her.

Hesitating just a moment more, Sylar stepped into her apartment and shut the door behind him. Walking around to the sofa he took in the lack of decorations and personal belongings. "You don't have many memories here."

The way he worded that caused Claire to smile involuntarily. "No, I don't suppose I do."

"We're both searching for memories," he observed quietly, using one finger to shift through the magazines on her coffee table. Stopping he turned his attention completely to her with a small smile of his own, "You're kind of like me, aren't you?"

Any joy was wiped away from Claire's face instantly and a thick pit settled in her stomach. "Don't ever say that again," she warned stalking to her bedroom. Making a beeline to her closet she slammed the door open so she could get a towel and look for any spare clothes that Sylar might get to wear.

"I've upset you," came a deep voice from her doorway. "I'm sorry. I don't want to be like me either."

Sighing deeply, Claire shook her head. "It's just a touchy thought," she replied without looking at him. Calming herself with a few breaths, she resolved her face and turned to him. Appearing pleasant, she held the towel towards him. "Why don't you take a shower? I don't have any spare clothes here, but I'll see if my neighbor has any."

He took the object from her hands. When his skin touched hers briefly, Claire pulled her hands back surprised by the warm spark. Sylar's eyebrow cocked up. "You're going to your neighbor at this time of night?"

"Sweetie won't mind," she assured, slipping her still tingling hands on her hips. "Now, go get clean. You smell." When his face reflected worry, she smiled to reassure him she was joking.

She remained standing in her room until the water turned on. At that point Claire's knees gave out and she stumbled to sit on the edge of her bed. Cradling her head in her hands, she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Here she was having a man as a houseguest who might have amnesia. Even though she felt in the center of her bones that he was telling the truth, this was still Sylar she was dealing with. A master at lies and disguise. What could his possible endgame be? And why use her to get to it?

But that lost look he gave her in that alleyway. He looked like a little, scared child. Nowhere to go, no one to trust. So he followed the girl who shoved part of a glass bottle in his chest. Claire smirked. He must really be desperate. He had been absolutely terrified by his automatic reactions when she attacked him.

Thinking she had taken enough time for the night pondering her situation, Claire headed to the next apartment to talk to her neighbor. Knocking four times she stood in the hall until the door swung wide open revealing Sweetie DeLouis. The fifty something year old black woman appeared in a pink nightie and nightcap. Taking in Claire's disheveled and dirty appearance, she shifted her weight to the right and shook her head. "Oh, honey child, what trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

"I need some help –"

"Well I can see that," she interrupted, leaning in to brush at Claire's cheek and hair. "You are filthy! What happened?"

"I got mugged," Claire blurted before any other scenario could have entered her mind. Sweetie's mouth opened to say something distasteful, but she continued before her neighbor had the chance. "Nothing too bad happened. An…old friend happened by and helped me out. But he got hurt and he's dirtier than I am so he's in my shower now and I was wondering if you had any spare clothes?"

The look that Sweetie gave, Claire was worried momentarily that she would say no. "All you have to do is ask!" she exclaimed with a quick laugh. "Why don't you go back to your room and I'll swing by once I find them."

"Thanks, Sweetie," said Claire returning to her own home as the door closed. Once back in the safety of her apartment, she closed her eyes and tilted her head against the door. She was absolutely exhausted to her marrow. It was now after 2am and all plans of sleeping in the nude were definitely and completely abandoned until further notice. And she had so been looking forward to that relaxing plan.

"Did you get clothes?" she heard Sylar ask from the entrance of the hall. Opening her eyes to address him, Claire squeaked and covered her eyes with both hands. He stood in her living room wearing nothing but the white towel slung low on his hips. Peaking through her fingers for a split second she saw that water continued to drip from his messy hair and trickle down his chest, which was something else…

Claire halted that mental path as firmly and quickly as she could. It was certainly not alright to be having those thoughts. "She'll be here in a couple of minutes," she explained, her sound muffled through her hands. "Could you go wait in the bathroom, please?"

"Yeah," he came back quickly, but he didn't move right away. "Do you have anything to eat?"

"Once you're dressed you are free to eat whatever you'd like," Claire answered, still determined to not look again. Though the pull at her stomach made the temptation to do so a thousand times greater.

"Right, thanks," replied Sylar as he began to head back to the bathroom. As soon as he had turned Claire put her hands down to admire the back of the retreating figure, which was equally impressive. When he was out of sight, she released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. What was wrong with her hormones?

A rapid knock at the door indicated Sweetie's arrival. "I just grabbed what I had, you didn't specify his size and, hey, I'm not psychic."

"Thank you so much, Sweetie," stated Claire relieved as she accepted the bundle. "This is perfect, I'm not sure how many days he is going to end up staying."

Sweetie's eyes lifted noticeably. "Oh, your hero is staying in your home, hmm?"

All stray feelings of lust for Sylar were sucked away instantly with Sweetie's comment as Claire snapped, "He is not my hero."

"I'm just saying, mugging, adrenaline, sharing of a bed…" The naughty smile on the older woman's face returned Claire's good mood.

"Not sharing a bed," she clarified, pointing towards the furniture in the living room. "Couch." Gesturing to the bundle in her arms, she once again thanked Sweetie, "I should get these to him. He's waiting in the bathroom."

Sweetie's eyes once again lifted significantly, but she refrained from saying anything on the matter. Claire said her final farewells for the night and went towards the bathroom. Setting the collection of clothes on the floor by the door, she knocked to let him know they were there.

This late, or early she supposed, the best she could come up with food wise was a turkey sandwich and chocolate milk. She set the plate and cup out just as Sylar reentered the room. "Do you want me to try to wash your old clothes?" she offered, remembering the blood from the stab wound.

"No," he stated firmly, sitting down. "Burn them, throw them away, I don't want anything to do with the Carnival anymore." She nodded and slid into a chair on the other side of the table to watch him eat. When Sylar took a sip of the drink his eyes lit up, "What is this?"

Claire laughed, "It's chocolate milk." Still laughing as he eagerly took another sip, she asked, "You don't even remember that?"

"There was a psychologist who told me I have jamais vu," he took another hungry bite. "That I had forgotten certain tastes, smells, sensations along with my memories due to some traumatic event."

"Must have been pretty traumatic," muttered Claire, shifting in her chair.

Sylar paused in his eating to take a long look at her, causing her to shift in her chair more. "What did I do to you?"

The blonde blatantly looked down and away, she didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. "Can I tell you later? It's kind of a long story and I'm just too tired."

"Why do I see your face among those I murdered?"

"Sylar," she stated, placing a hand over his so the questions would stop. "I promise we will go over it tomorrow. Look at me, I'm sitting here alive and well. And you'd know if I were lying anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Heaving a deep sigh, Claire hung her head and let out a small giggle. "I keep forgetting you aren't aware of your powers. You're like a lie detector, I'm pretty sure it's a reflexive power too like with my healing." His thick brow furrowed in confusion. "I have never been a cheerleader," she lied.

Sylar's eyes widened at the sensation. "That tickles," he explained grinning, "You were a cheerleader?"

"Amnesia, blood of the innocent on your hands, hoards of powers at your command; and the thing you seem most eager to find out about is my cheerleading history," she poked, grinning right back. Claire glanced down to see she was still holding onto his hand. Letting go she stood suddenly, smoothing down her dress before heading towards the hall. "There are blankets on the arm of the couch, so you can sleep there."

"Where will you be?" he asked, head following her motions.

"A shower, because I am still disgustingly grimy, and then bed." Once in the bathroom she double checked that the door was indeed locked. Claire cranked up the hot water and stepped into the shower. The extreme heat burned at her skin at a level that was just beyond healthy, but she didn't care. The heat relaxed her muscles and steam cleared her head. And right now her only coherent thought was, bedtime.

Shutting the water off after a comfortable drenching, she put on cotton shorts and tank top before padding to her room. She didn't even bother to peek down the little hall to see if Sylar was there.

Beyond ready to surrender to sleep Claire slid into her Queen sized bed, snuggling into the warmth of the mattress and sheets as much as she possibly could. Weakly peeking one eye open her clock read 3:17am. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered she had nowhere to be that morning, so she could sleep as late as she wanted. And she would want to. Closing her eyes her body felt like a lead weight that began to drift to sleep.

Just before she completely fell asleep, she was aware of the other side of the mattress becoming indented. Too worn out to react in any way she waited for the explanation which eventually came. "I don't want to be alone, if that's alright."

The fatigue of sleep began to make her brain hazy once more and she mumbled out, "Try anything while I'm sleeping and I'll gouge your eye out."

"I can live with that," he replied, amusement lacing his voice as Sylar settled into bed with her.