Sylar cleaned up in the bathroom, taking his time. In the other room, the young woman was crying almost silently. He looked at himself in the mirror; he was disgusted. How had he let himself be so vulnerable to that whore's attack? He was going to have to keep up better shields than that or he would never make any progress with Claire.

His reflection frowned; progress with Claire, it was probably never going to happen. Of course, he had already known that when she became his main focus years ago. But now that he was so close, that he had actually been allowed a taste of her, it made it all a lot harder, his faults more obvious.

So long ago, he had been completely confident that he could force her into his life. Now, staring at his face in the lonely bathroom, listening to Claire cry, he doubted it. What did he have to offer? Blood. Pain. Hatred. Nothing. Not even any real experience. Well into his thirties, he had only had two lovers and they had both taken him to their beds with ulterior motives. And now, they were both dead.

No! Three lovers; he had had Claire, too. He grinned as he remembered the feel of her. If only he could forget that she didn't really want him, that she never would. His eyes burned as he stared at himself. The weight of alone forever rode his shoulders. The eyes in the mirror filled with tears; with a snarl, he slammed his fist through them, barely feeling the sting as blood flowed over his hand.

"Sylar?" Claire called softly, uncertainly.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He had to control the anger before he could safely face her.

"Sylar?" She was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

"In a minute," he growled. He heaved a sigh and focused on washing the blood off of his hands, small pieces of glass tinkling into the sink. When he felt calm, he opened the door to Claire's wide eyes; at least the tears were gone.

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine." He tried to move passed her, but she saw the shattered mirror. "Leave it, I'll clean it up tomorrow."

"What happened?" She dropped the chunk she was holding.

"Got angry." He slipped passed her and into the main section of the trailer.

"Oh." She followed him out. "I'd ask if you were okay, but..." She shrugged and gestured vaguely at him. He dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. "How long are we gonna be here?" She sat in the chair.

"As long as it takes."

"To do what?"

He looked at her then, eyes narrowing. "Aren't you angry with me?"

"Honestly?" She paused and he nodded. "No."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want this either."

"Oh yes, yes I do. I want it very much."

"But not like this, with no choices. If that's how you wanted me, you could have taken me that first day; the day you killed Nathan."

"That wasn't the first day."

"That wasn't my point."

"I know." He was quiet for a few minutes. "A month, maybe two."

"That long?" she whined, letting herself fall back in the seat.

He laid back on the bed, scooting up to be more comfortable.

"You won't leave me here, will you?" she asked softly, leaning forward again.

"No." He stared at the ceiling. "I'll take care of you."

"Sun's not even up yet." He grunted, but didn't respond. "Never been so worn out."

"Been a rough couple of days." He closed his eyes, sleep creeping up on him again.

Claire watched his breath slow and even out; she was so tired. She curled up on the chair, but it really wasn't that comfy. Sylar rolled to his side and she eyed him enviously.

Slowly, she moved to the end of the bed. When he didn't stir, she crawled up behind him. There wasn't much room, so she stayed on her side facing him, one arm above her head, the other awkwardly on her own hip.

"You can touch me, if you want. I know the bed's small."

"I thought you were asleep," she accused.

"Light sleeper."

"Guess you'd have to be." Awkwardly, she touched her fist to his shoulder. "I don't know how to do this."

"My hip would be better," he suggested.

Claire held her breath as she moved her closed hand to Sylar's hip.

"Open your hand." She hesitated, but followed his instructions. "Now all you have to do is relax."

She puffed an amused breath and felt his body relax beside her; she hadn't even realized he was tense. She forced her muscles to ease with each breath until she was loose and ready to sleep.

It still felt weird to hold Sylar's hip, basically cuddling him, as she drifted off to sleep.

Sylar waited until her breath deepened and her body went slack, and then he waited a little longer. When he was certain she wouldn't wake, he slid backwards until her body was cupped around his. He sighed with contentment when she snuggled closer and nuzzled his back.

The closeness was great, but what made it fantastic was that she had initiated it. Maybe he could win her after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review.