DECEMBER 2522

I wake up from my nightmare, sitting straight up in bed, my hand curled around the knife my subconscious expects to be there. My eyes adjust to the darkness as heart rate slows gradually. I cover my mouth with a hand in an attempt to quiet my breathing.

I had a dream about my family. It was the first one I've had in a long time. When it first happened, I had nightmares all the time. They weren't always the same, but this one occurred most often.

That night….I'd woken to hear Mr. Muggles yelping in pain. Before I could put on a bathrobe, I felt my legs carrying me downstairs. My parents and Lyle were already seated on the couch, bound by Sylar's will. My mother screamed and sobbed as he wrung her dog's neck. His face twitched with irritation and he snapped her mouth shut.

My brother was forced to stand up and walk over to Sylar. His lips trembled as he faced the monster. My little brother was so afraid, but he looked Sylar in the face.

"Brave boy," Sylar said, "or at least for now." He held out a knife and a tear slipped down Lyle's face as he took it. My brother drew the knife in one quick movement across his carotid artery. His blood sprayed his killer's clothes, and his body collapsed to the floor. My father growled, a noise of frustrated impotence and anguish.

Sylar stepped over my brother's body and sat beside my mother. He put his arm around her shoulder in a comforting and conspiratorial manner as he leaned to speak quietly in her ear.

"Poor Sandra. Dead dog. Dead son. Wonder which one you miss the most." He chuckled dryly.

"Noah's protected you for so long now. You were too gentle, too sweet, too naïve to be exposed to this depravity. Now I'm going to kill you, and you won't need to be protected anymore. I'll even make it relatively painless."

His hand moved up to her throat and closed down on her windpipe. When he had finished strangling her, her tears were still fresh on her cheeks. Her expression, far from peaceful, held more sorrow than I had ever seen.

Sylar turned to me then, as if he hadn't noticed me before.

"Claire, I hope you'll forgive me. I haven't forgotten you. In fact, I'm going to need your help for this next part." He and my father stood as one and walked over to where I was still frozen. Sylar walked behind me and bent down so he could inhale the scent of my hair and speak to me while watching my father's face.

"You think you've sunk as far down as you can go, don't you Claire-bear?" he murmured behind me. "That this is the worst thing you could possibly endure, being forced to stand and watch me slaughter your innocent family…but you're wrong." He handed me the knife as he spoke. It was still dripping Lyle's blood.

"But I'm feeling generous—enough to let you and Daddy have a tender goodbye." He released our mouths with an arrogant flick of his index finger.

"It's okay, Claire. You're going to make it through this," my dad promised me as I approached him with the knife in my hand.

"I love you baby."

With that, my hand whipped out and slashed my father across the chest. He cried out and I sobbed as I was forced to kill the man who had been my childhood hero. I was covered in his blood by the time he was dead.

Sylar watched me as I cried on the floor. "You see, Claire, things can always get worse. I'm going to break you, and I'll watch you try to pick yourself up. I'll show you kindness, too, and at the end of it all…I'm going to be the only person who matters to you anymore. We have forever for you to forgive me."

He pulled my strings and had me wrench the knife from my father's body. He sat on the couch and studied me for a moment.

"Let's have some fun."

That's the point where I always woke up. I never dreamt about what he did to me afterwards, when I learned just how much he enjoyed watching me abuse my body.

"Claire?"

I look over and see Gabriel propped up on one elbow.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice telling me he knew everything in my head.

I take another breath and lie down next to him.

"Nothing, Gabriel. Just a bad dream."

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