I told you the twists would come.

Please read and enjoy.

If possible, reviews are always appreciated.

Much love,

-Descartre

"You didn't think I would make it that easy did you?" a smug voice said behind Claire.

She whipped herself around to face the newest presence only to find that she had no idea who he was. She found herself staring into the face of a scary looking older man. Although he couldn't have stood much more than a half a foot above her; there was something in the man's harsh eastern European facial features and the tell-tale dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep that screamed volumes about how dangerous he really was. His eyes were a piercing blue and as cold as ice; Claire was frightened at the lack of humanity she saw in them.

"Danko," Claire's father growled beside her. Claire ascertained it to be the intimidating man's name.

"Hello Noah," he sneered back. The man nodded toward Sylar in the background, "I see you're hanging with a new crowd these days old friend."

"We were never friends," Noah seethed; more for Claire's benefit than anyone else's.

"What is this? Was my father too busy to come on his own?" Claire asked Danko cheekily. Her words were more confident than she was. He laughed darkly at her question.

"Your father doesn't tell you much now does he Claire?" Danko leisurely put a cigarette in his mouth, "the herd has been thinned out," he began to explain, and then he lit it; taking a long pull before exhaling in satisfaction. He stood his ground confidently when he gave the command, "take them down."

Claire woke up with a strange feeling in her gut; not sick exactly, but it was quite pain either. It felt like somebody had their hands tinkering around with her internal organs. She tried to sit up, but her limbs were far too heavy to allow for any movement. Claire sighed internally and managed to pry her eyelids open. Through her blurred perception, she could make out a clinical white ceiling and some large rectangular fluorescents; she could have been anywhere. If she continued to wake up in unexplained locations every time she closed her eyes, she might completely lose her grip on reality, and on herself.

After several minutes of commanding her muscles to respond, Claire finally willed her body to erect itself into a sitting position. A man in a white coat had his hands buried in her exposed thoracic cavity; he ripped his eyes away from his work to look into hers. Claire was shocked to see his face full of fear and wonder; she had never elicited that kind of reaction from anybody. Panicking, Claire roughly shoved him away from her; not bothering to notice when he slammed into a table and brought it down with him.

She was too distracted to notice his writhing body on the floor as she laboriously attempted to shove her intestines back into her belly and folded the skin and muscle back into place. She healed speedily as expected, but Claire was still bewildered; not only had she just seen her innards, but she had touched them and not felt an ounce of pain. More questions needed asking and she thought she knew where she could get the answers from.

Claire looked down at the man she had attacked and gasped when she saw that a pool of blood had began to gather underneath his body.

"What?" Claire murmured to herself and hastily moved to turn the man over and investigate.

She immediately wished she hadn't. There were various surgical tools embedded in his back. "Oh god," Claire whispered in horror and sank down next to him to help him, but it was already too late. The man choked on his blood before his body went limp. Claire looked upon the scene in horror as for the second time, she watched the life leave a person's eyes; just like a flame going out. She shook him violently as if trying to wake him, "please come back," she begged and roughly slapped him across the face. "Wake up, wake up, wake up! I'm sorry," she wailed. "I didn't mean to."

"Oh Claire," someone spoke over her weeping. "Dear Claire. Don't worry about it. We'll get someone to clean this up right away." The man's voice was pitying albeit in way much more mocking than any other.

"Who are you?" Claire rasped; she turned on him covered in blood.

"My name is Arthur Petrelli," he answered astutely. Everything about the man screamed his authority; his voice, his suit, even his face—he exuded power.

"Arthur Petrelli," Claire breathed, "…So that makes you my grandfather then." She chuckled dryly. "Are you and dear old dad working together then?" He ignored her question.

"You're here to help people Claire, to even out the playing field for all mankind." His eyes held a faraway look as he imagined the new and improved future he sought out; the one he planned to be in control of.

"I don't understand. Why me?" More than anything, Claire wanted to be angry, to cover up her fear with a hunger for revenge. Everything around her was changing so fast though, and it refused to slow down. All she could do now was ask questions as everyone had their way with her, and no one would explain to her the simplest one of them all. Why her?

"You're special Claire," he said adoringly.

A lump rose up in Claire's throat as she heard Gabriel's words coming from this man; they seemed too common lately. She didn't want to be different in the first place, and she certainly didn't want to be special. A couple of months ago, Claire would have worried that she wasn't wearing the right shoes. Now she was afraid that she was the wrong species.

"I'm just a cheerleader," Claire protested weakly. "What do you want me to do anyway?"

"It's not what you will do, it's what you have," Arthur supplied vaguely.

"What I have," she stammered. "You—you want my ability?"

"With your blood, we can perfect the formula; we can make a new world."

At that moment another man burst through the door; Claire immediately noticed three things about him; the first was that he too was wearing a white lab coat, the second was very good looking; he had thick dark curls that complimented his dark skin and pleasant brown eyes, and finally she could see that he looked wholly and completely pissed off.

"I want out Arthur!" he yelled as he angrily strode up to him.

"I don't think you're in the position to be making such big decisions like that," he replied snidely. Claire sat back in confusion as she watched them battle it out with their words and their power struggle.

"I want him dead! Sylar killed my father, and now he's here," the man seethed with a tone marked by malice.

"That's just too bad. He has something that I want, and I have something that you want—don't I Mohinder?"

"You promised me the catalyst weeks ago!" Mohinder roared.

"And I have finally found it," Arthur said portentously and turned his gaze toward Claire.

The other man finally seemed to notice Claire's presence for the first time since he had made his appearance as he turned his eyes on her.

"Claire Bennet," he breathed incredulously. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "Why couldn't I see it before?" He approached Claire and helped her to stand up; gripping her firmly by the shoulders. "The healing properties in your blood should reverse the negative side-effects of the formula." His tone was hurried and excited. "You can fix me Claire," he declared with reverence and gazed wonderingly into her eyes, perhaps enraptured by what he saw there. The spell was broken when he took her hands in his and suddenly turned to Arthur Petrelli. "I should like to start right away. I have it this time," he rolled his thumbs over the backs of Claire's hands. "I can feel it."

Claire shivered against the cold metal of the table in Mohinder's laboratory; it was uncomfortable, but she relished the sensation. Cold was so close to pain, yet so far away; she was still scared. What was this formula he spoke of and why was it so important? Better yet; what might the repercussions of such a formula actually be? As far as she could see; these weren't the good guys. Since Claire had found out abilities, the man in front of her was the closest thing she had seen to a monster yet.

What Claire did know was that she was very important to whatever they were doing here. She didn't know how long her free pass would last; especially after they got what they wanted from her.

So you're working with my grandfather," Claire mused as the man whom she assumed was named Mohinder analyzed some data on one of the man computers in the room. He barely lifted his eyes from the screen as he haphazardly answered her question.

"I prefer to think he's working for me," he informed Claire.

She wasn't convinced of any of this; nothing about this situation made a lick of sense. It seemed that nobody was willing to label themselves as having an actual side. Good or evil? Hero or villain? Nobody wanted to draw or cross those lines. She supposed it all depended on who had what you wanted. With politics like these; all that mattered was you and the well being of the things you cared about.

"So…" Claire started awkwardly, "if you are going to be cutting into me and getting to know my insides so well; it only seems fair for you to tell me your name," she ebbed.

"Oh that won't be necessary Claire. I'm just going to do a few tests; take a sample of your blood," he smiled comfortingly at her. "That is okay isn't it?" he asked hopefully. When Claire merely frowned in response; he realized that he had gone about answering her question in the wrong way. Claire needed to trust him; this girl, the key to his future was of the utmost importance, and he would not do well to scorn his savior. "My name is Dr. Mohinder Suresh; I'm a geneticist," he explained. Claire visibly relaxed at that, but then something occurred to her.

"Suresh?" she breathed. "As in Chandra Suresh?"

"You know my father?" he stopped his work and immediately gave her all of his attention. He looked at her with wide and curious eyes; his accent lending excitement to his tone.

"Oh…" Claire hated to let him down. "No—I'm sorry," she continued. "I read some of his book though; it was fascinating."

"Do you study genetics Miss Bennet?" he asked curiously.

"I did… at Stanford," she replied awkwardly. "Until all of this happened to me."

"Claire…" he said quietly and reverently. "This didn't happen to you; it's simply the way you are, the way the world was meant to be. Surely you know that evolution is absolutely inevitable given enough time."

Claire took a moment to think about what he said to her. Truthfully she had never thought of it that way; that this was just a normal part of evolution. The only thing that made it different was the fact that the change seemed so dramatic. In all actuality, it was just one minor change in a person's DNA; one gene that was different than everybody else's.

"That's what I keep trying to tell myself," Claire muttered. "It doesn't work though." Her tone was sad and distant. Mohinder looked as though he wished to cheer her up; to make her smile. "You don't think I'm a freak then?" Claire wondered aloud. She would be lying if she said the question wasn't at least slightly rhetorical as she momentarily forgot about his strange skin condition.

"A freak!" Mohinder exclaimed in horror. "Claire your blood is the key to taking away the negative side effects of these abilities. You are the ground wire; don't you see that? You will enable at least one person to return to a normal life."

"This serum…" she mused, "It doesn't…" the words failed to make it past her lips on the first attempt, but she drew in a shaky breath and tried again; she needed to know. "It doesn't take away abilities does it?" her voice was colored with excitement. Gabriel could come back if Sylar was gone; without his powers, he would be normal again.

"Take away abilities?" he asked in disbelief. "Oh heavens no!" He laughed emphatically. "I've been working to give people abilities."

"But is it possible?" Claire asked determinedly. "Can you take away someone's abilities?"

"I can't imagine why you would want to do such a thing. The way your body works; Claire it's incredible. The ability to heal from any wound; to be immortal… Think of how much you could learn! You would have time to be all-knowing and powerful; you could be God," he whispered in amazement, as if realizing this himself for the first time.

"Not mine—" Claire left off with no intention to explain herself; after hearing what this man had said to her grandfather, she assumed it wouldn't be the greatest of ideas to mention Sylar or Gabriel around him.

"Either way," he turned back to his work. "It's scientifically impossibly to remove abilities; you can't remove genes, you can only activate, deactivate, and extract them," he informed her as if it were common knowledge, but his tone was polite nonetheless.

Claire's spirits dropped as the reality of the situation set in; there was a good chance that she would never have her Gabriel again, especially after this. Claire didn't even know that she would get out of her alive. She had to admit to herself though; it did seem that this man, Mohinder Suresh had a soft spot for her. Mohinder seemed to be obsessed with her already, and he barely knew anything about her… well her personality anyway.

"Well let's get on with it then," Claire supplied flippantly and offered him her arm. Mohinder gave her an apologetic smile as he prepared a syringe to extract the first sample of her blood.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," someone growled as Mohinder flew across the room, crashing into the countertop. The ability was there, but the voice was off. Claire wished she wasn't strapped down so she could turn around and face her rescuer, but she could only writhe against her bonds impatiently. Then the straps were telekinetically unfastened and she was free to escape. Claire whipped her head around immediately and found herself confused once again.

"Peter?" she cried in disbelief. "How did you—" she started to say, but then she noticed something about the stranger that Peter didn't have. A large and hideous scar marred his once handsome face. "No…" she corrected herself. "Who are you?"

"It's me Claire, it's Peter." He informed her impatiently. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah nice try," Claire sniffed. "Peter doesn't have a scar, and he sure as hell couldn't have gotten one in the last day," she reasoned.

I'm from the future," he attempted to explain, but it was lost on her as Claire looked at him doubtfully. "Do you really want to argue this right now, or do you want to get out of here?"

"You're right," she leapt off of the metal operating table as he pulled her out of the room and hastily led her down the concrete hallway in the research facility. "Wait!" Claire protested, "what about Sylar? We can't leave without him," she insisted.

"Sylar is fine. I'll explain it later." Peter regarded her as he put a hand on her shoulder and shut his eyes.

Claire frantically spun around in a circle; she was positively bewildered as she found herself in a completely different environment than seconds before. "Peter, what did you do?" she asked as she turned around, but found herself gazing at nothing more than her old house in Odessa.

"What the hell?" Claire spat at no one in particular.

"Who's there?" Gabriel's familiar voice asked as he strode into her old dining room.

"SYLAR?" Claire nearly yelled as her eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

"Claire," he regarded her scornfully. "Please leave," he requested. On the surface, the application seemed polite, but Claire knew him well enough to recognize the warning behind his words.

"I'm not going anywhere, this is my house," she protested. "What are you doing in my house."

They stood there and sized each other up. Claire burst into laughter upon seeing what he was wearing. This definitely wasn't Sylar; this was Gabriel… a much stranger, dorkier Gabriel. Her amusement grew when she noticed what the apron he was wearing read, 'World's Greatest Cook,' he was even wearing his old glasses. Claire was overwhelmed by joy as she stepped forward to embrace him. Gabriel almost recoiled when she put her arms around him.

"Gabriel," she murmured into his neck as she stood up on her toes and pressed her body up against hers. "You're back," she shook her head in disbelief. "God, how I've missed you," her tear-filled voice pierced the silence.

He was stiff underneath her touch as she gave him a soft kiss that he did not respond to. Gabriel pulled back and just stared calculatingly into her eyes; trying to figure out some grand equation. Claire didn't know what to make of the situation; all she knew, all she cared about was that her Gabriel was back. He reached out with hesitant fingers to touch her hair and looked down at her body clothed in a blood-soaked hospital gown.

"Claire," he whispered huskily and telekinetically threw her against the wall. She looked at him fearfully upon his violent reaction to her presence. He set on her with a predatory look in his eyes; the one she recognized from when Sylar had come out that day at the beach.

"Gabriel," she pleaded.

"When are you from?" he asked as if he knew something that she didn't and as though the answer would explain everything.

"When?" Claire asked in confusion, but opted to answer the question anyway. She certainly wasn't in the position to deny him anything he wanted; she would do anything for him. She looked down at the watch he had given her before they had initially parted ways and carefully removed it from her wrist before placing it in his hand. "Last time I checked it was October of 2009," she informed him as he examined his old watch.

"I gave this to you... four years ago," he told her.

"Four years? You gave that to me a little over a week ago," she replied warily; each word pronounced in full as if speaking slowly would lend more sense to the situation. "What is going on? Why are you in my house?" She began to tear up again. "I was in that lab, and Dr. Suresh was going to run some tests. Then Peter showed up, but he wasn't Peter... and now I'm-- I'm here, and you're here, and none of it makes any sense," she rambled.

"You are Claire four years ago?" he checked again.

"I told you! Gabriel, I'm just-- I'm scared, and I want out," she sniveled and shrank back against the wall he had thrown her against.

"I never thought I would hear you say that again," he laughed humorlessly. "That you're scared."

Claire turned watery eyes on him and it completely shattered his dark pretense; a glimpse of the man she knew could be seen in him now.

"Oh come here Claire," he gave in and pulled her into his arms; comfortingly stroking her hair as he held her close.

"I missed you," Claire told him again as she cried. "I love you." She tilted his face down so she could give him another kiss, but this one was different; it was passionate and desperate. Gabriel returned her kiss eagerly for a few second, but then he tried to pull away suddenly, as if remembering where he was. Claire wasn't having it; she wound her hands tight around his neck and melded herself to him.

"Don't," Gabriel growled against her lips between frenzied kisses. "I'm not him anymore Claire," he managed to get out; Claire was still undeterred. "I'm not Sylar," he panted. Claire actually pulled back at that last statement so she could look into his eyes; there she saw both men, and it was true that she loved them both. She smiled weakly at him.

"I meant what I said then," she breathed.

"What?" he asked distractedly and pulled her body closer to his; running his fingers through her long silken hair and bringing it up to his face as if savoring an old memory.

"I love you Gabriel," she said his name like a prayer.

"Claire," he muttered helplessly and hungrily attacked her mouth again.

They knocked over almost every bit of furniture in the room as they fought for control in the small space. Gabriel pulled Claire down to the floor on top of him, grateful that she had so little clothing for him to remove. He gazed at her exposed flesh in amazement. She was just as he had remembered, his Claire; forever beautiful, strong, and unchanging. He actually whimpered at the loss when Claire pulled back slightly. She twined her fingers with his and pinned his arms up near his head, stretching across his slender and well-muscled body.

"Say it," she commanded; almost snarling. She had intended to stop, but was unable to keep herself from undressing him as well. Claire busied herself with the buttons of his shirt as she ground her hips down on his still clothed member; still able to feel the heat from his body.

"Say what?" he groaned; Claire's fingers brushed lightly against his thighs as she helped him remove his trousers.

The light colored clothing she found him wearing didn't suit him at all, and she was eager to get it off of him, though she could not honestly say that other things weren't on her mind. Claire couldn't help but to caress and taste every inch of the newly exposed skin. Their coupling was raw and animalistic; they needed each other and neither one could get close enough. Claire climbed up his body and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she leant forward and trailed a path from his collarbone to his jaw with her lips before stopping at his ear.

"Tell me you love me," she whispered hotly. His eyes widened fractionally with fear but they were both too far into the moment to let a few words stop them. He roughly grabbed both of her shoulders and gave her a violent and slightly painful kiss that didn't seem to suit the man he had tried to become.

"I love you," he growled and pushed himself up inside of her with a sharp inhale.

Claire bit down on her lip and relished the feeling of completion that he had given her. She raked her finger tips lightly up his chest and knitted her hands in his hair that had gone awry. As if reading her mind; Gabriel leaned forward to meet her mouth. They continued to battle with teeth and tongues as he positioned his hands on her wide hips to help her find a rhythm that worked for the both of them. Claire gasped at the new angle and shuddered when he removed his hands to trail them up her spine. Gabriel played with her hair and pushed away the golden locks that had fallen across her breasts so he could caress the flesh underneath them; eliciting a soft keening sound from Claire.

When the familiar feeling began to creep up inside of her and a blissful heat began to spread out from her core, Claire pulled Gabriel close in an almost painfully tight embrace before abruptly pushing him back to the tile floor so she could ride out her orgasm. Gabriel resigned himself to lying upon the cold surface that burned his heated skin. He watched her seize up with a silent scream and toss her head back as the strong wave of pleasure coursed violently through her body. Gabriel thrust into her a few more times before his own climax came and he screwed his eyes shut with the intensity of it.

They both collapsed at the same time and Claire rested her chin against his chest; gazing at him and in awe of the extraordinarily peaceful expression he wore.

"What the hell is this?" An angry female voice sounded from the doorway.

Tbc.