Title: Forget Me Not

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Nope, just double checked. Do not own it.

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

A/N: Ugh! Because I'm sick with a sore throat and lost voice I can't go play at the KC Renaissance Festival this weekend! Been looking forward to it for weeks and now no go! :( So sad! Anyhoo, kewpie doll to those of you who caught my not so subtle hint last chapter to NBC being morons. :P

Just as long as you stay with me
The whole world is my throne
Beyond here lies nothin'
Nothin' we can call our own

~ Beyond Here Lies Nothin'; Bob Dylan

"It has been days since anyone has seen him," stated Lydia as she watched Samuel pace back and forth. His agitation had been causing restlessness among others in the Carnival, an energy that put forth a sense of discomfort amongst the members. They trusted Samuel, looked to him for direction; and here he uncertain of his next move and angry because of it.

"I have been working to protect this family, to surround us with those whose powers can adequately do just that. It's not productive to have people disappear when we need them the most." In his frustration he kicked a trailer, the harsh sound causing the nearby woman to jump. "We need him back."

Samuel continued his hunched pacing. Biting her bottom lip ever so slightly, Lydia could feel the wall of anger and agitation mounting behind her. "Maybe you don't need to know where he is."

The pacing ceased for a few quiet seconds. One hand settled on the back of the chair and the other on the shoulder of the opposite side. He leaned in so close Lydia felt her hair move as he spoke. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I show you what you need to see," she replied looking straight ahead. "Perhaps you don't need to know where he is. Try a different approach." Fingers tightened on her shoulder before releasing. Samuel backed off and resumed pacing, though not angry in its stride.

"A different question," he murmured under his breath. Snapping his fingers Samuel picked up the bamboo stick and inserted it into the woman's back. "Tell me what Sylar needs." Lydia closed her eyes as the ink spread and immediately formed pictures. The first portrait was of Sylar himself before a thin black line connected to Claire Bennett. A similar line connected from her to a barely visible black cloud that couldn't decide on a figure. Inhaling with excitement Samuel placed a shaky finger over the hardly there hazy swirl. "There's our answer."

"It doesn't even exist yet," commented Lydia with eyes still closed. "Not even a thought much beyond us. How are you going to use it?"

"By sending someone to speak with Claire Bennett," he answered, tucking in his shirt and fixing his hair.

"Not the Japanese man," she checked.

"No, not him. Mr. Nakamura will be of use at a later point I am sure." Stepping out of the tent opening, Samuel moved quickly to find the resident speedster. "Edgar, I'm going to send you to reach out to Claire Bennett."

"Haven't you already tried though?" he asked, moving one last swipe of a rag over his blades.

"I have, but you're going to try a different way." Placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, Samuel leaned in to whisper, "It's a bit of a gamble, so you're going to need to follow my instructions exactly."

X~ X~ X~

For six days Sylar had stayed with Claire. For six days he had lived in her apartment, eaten her food, kept her company, and slept in her bed. And life honestly could not become any more comfortable than it was in that moment for either party involved. Sylar's constant company was something Claire had become accustomed to in such a short time. He had been a perfect gentleman keeping his distance by not touching her in the least since their talk, something she had appreciated greatly.

His movements and habits around the apartment were those which she was becoming accustomed to. He would always ask about her day, share what he read while she had been gone, and ask questions about her life. Feelings and details that she herself hadn't even known about were revealed to him. Ideas on how to resolve Sylar's memory problem appeared to have reached a standstill, but that little fact did not appear to both either.

This particular Friday night Claire had to do a makeup chemistry lab along with a few classmates. Walking into the sitting area with a backpack over her shoulder, she informed her new houseguest of this fact. "Can I come with you?" he asked.

"You never come with me to class and you do realize you're not a prisoner," she clarified. "You can leave at any time that you want."

He shrugged avoiding eye contact. "I don't want to leave by myself."

Sighing to herself, Claire dramatically swept an arm to the door. "Alright then, let's go."

"You're annoyed," he observed not taking a step towards the door.

"No, I'm not," she assured. At his eyebrow quirk, she inhaled to reconsider. "Okay, maybe a little bit; but I'm more amused." Still he remained silent waiting for her to elaborate. "It's been nice. You being here, your company; but you are capable of far more than you seem to realize."

Seemingly embarrassed by the vote of confidence, he went to the door to hold it open as they exited the apartment.

X~ X~ X~

"See you later, Claire! And thanks for cleaning up!" yelled her lab partner as he rushed out of the room. Eight individuals had to redo the lab, six of which had left an hour before. But since Claire had been stuck with the incompetent moron, she still remained behind. To get him out of her hair she had insisted he leave as soon as the data had been gathered, more than happy to deal with the cleanup herself. Taking a walk up and down the five aisles of lab stations she made sure the gas valves were turned to an off position and the blue lever at the end of each aisle was locked up also in an off position. Checking the test tubes and graduated cylinders were cleaned out she placed them upside down on the racks to drip dry. Lastly, the spark lighter to ignite the Bunsen burner was put away in its drawer in the back of the classroom. The lighter was a round steel disc with a piece of flint attached so when the two handles were squeezed together, a spark would start over the gas and thus create a flame.

Once her work was completed Claire came back to her backpack to pack up the books. She had left Sylar in the floor level lobby of the seven story science building and she had no doubt he would still be there waiting for her. Eager to be in his company again she hustled with her book stacking, the back of her mind still not quite certain why she was happy to meet with Sylar. After a long, difficult lab time all she knew was she was excited to be with him again.

Any spare thoughts of self scolding were washed away as a rush of wind blew in the classroom rustling her hair. Head snapping to the doorway she saw an average sized, built man leaning casually against the frame. "Hi," she offered hesitantly as he had appeared out of nowhere.

"I shocked you, love, I'm sorry," stated the man with a British accent. Stepping forward he introduced himself. "My name is Edgar, I'm here on behalf of Samuel to warn you."

Worry stabbed at Claire's gut, knowing instantly he was here about Sylar. The question was, how much did this man know? Keeping her face as pleasant as possible she replied, "Look, I appreciate what Samuel is doing for specials, but I made it clear that I don't want anything to do with him."

"He just wants to help," insisted Edgar. "He asked me to come here to warn you. About a man called Sylar, that he's looking for you."

So she had been right. Claire allowed the worry from before register externally as she thought quickly to determine his real motive. "But he's dead. So there's no need to worry, but thanks anyway."

"You so sure about that?" he asked, slipping hands into his pant pockets. "Just for a day or two, please, come with me to be certain everything is safe."

She nearly missed his last statement as a dull glint at his waist caught her eye. A series of thin blades were strapped on his person, leading her to believe this was the man who had gutted her dad. Mind catching up with his last statement, Claire nodded absent mindedly. "Yeah," she murmured before becoming more chipper. "Yeah, that would be fine. But if Sylar's really here for me, wouldn't it be a bad idea to take me to a place full of specials?"

"We're tougher than you'd think," he assured with a cocky smirk.

"So, that must mean you're a special? What is it that you can do?" she casually inquired, stalling for time to think of an escape. Of course the idea forming currently depending upon Edgar never having set foot in a science classroom, but it was all she had at the moment.

The man's eyes lit up, clearly proud of his power and excited at the prospect of showing it off. Before she could blink, a rush of wind blew past her and Edgar was suddenly in the back corner of the lab. Next she felt a gust of wind again he was once more in the doorway.

Swallowing past the dry lump in her throat, Claire put her energy into plastering on a smile. It was definitely him. "You're a speedster."

"That I am," he announced, endlessly pleased with himself. "One of the fastest."

Again she swallowed a lump and smiled brightly, desperately hoping the fear wouldn't be showing. This idea was insane and criminal, but it would work. Maybe. In the back of her mind she just hoped Sylar wouldn't decide to come look for her. Though this was technically his problem, him there at that moment would only complicate matters. "You promise the Carnival will be a safe place? I mean, if Sylar really is back, he has a tendency to find people anywhere."

"Samuel's working to have that not be an issue. We want to stay safe and secluded, so no one can find or hurt us." She nodded, eyes scanning the classroom one final time. With a grand gesture Edgar offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Let me finish cleaning in here first, then we can go." As calmly as she could, Claire walked down all the aisles undoing the work she had completed. Beginning at one end, she pulled the blue lever down to allow gas to flow through the pipes. Continuing to each station she turned the knobs to allow gas freely into the room. Casting a glance over she was more than relieved to see Edgar looking impatient, not suspicious. "So how far away is the Carnival?"

"Not too far when I'm your transport," he stated confidently. "Read to leave yet?"

Opening the drawer that held the spark lighter, Claire extracted the silver object and held it up. The room now noticeably smelling of gas, the little spark should be enough to do damage. "No, actually. You either leave on your own or tell me why you really want me. Otherwise I will light this room up."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What? With a nutcracker?"

Sparing a look to her hand, the back of her mind was amused. It did look sort of like a nutcracker. However, in that little moment it took her to look to the side Edgar had sped towards her. He had taken the lighter and held her throat in the crook of his elbow in a choke hold.

"Where is Sylar?"

Though it didn't hurt at all, Claire dramatically choked for air hoping to poke at his compassionate side. "Dead." Clawing at his arm she emitted a rather convincing gag noise. "He burned… I watched it…"

"No see, I know that's a lie," Edgar growled, squeezing his arm tighter. Though there was no pain, the corners of her vision speckled black. "Last week he was with us at the Carnival, very much alive and very much a pain in the arse." Even though her lungs burned with no oxygen left she somehow managed a sick sounding laugh at that. "Tell me!"

Suddenly the brute behind her flew away and cold air rushed into her lungs. Hunched over and coughing from the abrupt internal change, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of Sylar at the doorway. Okay, maybe it was a good idea he came to find her. With his arm still raised he didn't look like a cold blooded killer, just an angry man trying to help.

Standing straight she turned to address what she thought would be Edgar in a heap on the floor. Claire barely registered the blur moving around her or the sensation of blades digging into her skin. In the course of perhaps two or three seconds Edgar shredded her body all over. No pain, just a dull slide over her clothing and flesh before a gush of warm flowed down. Blades passed over her back, stomach, arms, face, legs. A particularly effective swipe behind her knees caused her to lose the ability to even stand. His last swipe dug so deeply into her throat that Claire couldn't speak.

Lying on the tile floor in a pile of her own blood, she observed Sylar telekinetically holding Edgar up to the ceiling. His hand curved in a vice like grip so the speedster was choking to breathe or speak. "Now that wasn't very smart," chided Sylar, evidently enjoying his revenge. As Sylar's finger slowly came up to form a slicing motion, Claire gurgled from her position on the cold floor wanting him to stop. She definitely wanted Edgar to pay, but not at this Sylar's expense.

Whatever noise had come from her throat was enough to cause Sylar to turn his attention to her in concern. The tendons in her legs had healed back together so she was able to stand up. Walking to his side, she held the skin on her throat closed until it knitted shut. Hands slick with blood she rubbed them on her utterly ruined clothes before looking up to the Brit. "So are you ready to talk?"

His response was a rather classy spit directed at the pair of them.

Ignoring the insult and the constant inquisitive side glances from Sylar, she asked, "Why did you come here?"

"Piss off."

Sylar's invisible grip tightened as Claire crossed her arms annoyed. "Look, either answer my question or he starts a lightning bolt and you fry."

"But you'll burn too."

"Clearly won't bother us," she snapped not too subtly. "So I am asking one more time. Why did you come here?"

Edgar's lips pursed, clearly weighing his options, deciding if there was a bluff involved. But the mounting pressure around his neck made him explain to Sylar, "To make you come back. Samuel still needs you. We knew you'd be with her, so I was chosen to come make a case to have you return."

"Why?" inquired Sylar, anger seeping through with every word. "So I could do your dirty work? By murdering people?"

"If memory serves you're useless at that job."

Squeezing tighter he growled, "Care to test me right now?"

"Let him go," stated Claire evenly. At the bewildered look on both mens faces, she explained, "You'll deliver a message. No more tricks, no more visitors, we never want to see any of you people again. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," rushed the man on the ceiling. "But just to let you know, the offer still stands, to come back with us."

Snorting in disbelief he let him arm down to allow Edgar to simply flop several feet to the floor. "Right, that's something I'll be glad to consider after this." Had the whole situation not been so tense, Claire may have laughed at the bluntly sarcastic side Sylar was letting off. "Now get out."

In normal speed, Edgar made for the door. Not at all surprised, his hands slid under his coat to reach for throwing knives. At the same time, both Sylar and Claire threw themselves out two windows, Sylar emitting an electrical bolt from his hands on the way down. As the fire blast exploded the classroom Claire felt herself falling and glass descending with her. Before she fell more than two stories, her partner in crime scooped her up. Holding on tightly and clinging to the familiar, the pair flew into the sky and away from the mass spectators that gathered on the ground below.