A/N: this one's a little short, but I wanted to introduce the new character and I also needed to talk about Molly's new boogeyman—plus it's only been 2 days, so I think this is pretty good considering. I didn't realize how hard that scene would be to write because I needed to get out important things, but from a little girl's perspective, and it's been a long time since I was a little girl, so that was definitely difficult to write. I hope it came across okay! Thanks for the reviews!

EMILY BANKS

SURREY, BRITAIN

"The most recent order has arrived, Miss Banks."

"Oh, thank you Darla!" Emily Banks smiled at her personal assistant and slipped her caramel-rimmed glasses down from their perch atop her head, settling them on the ridge of her nose. She bent down to inspect the large rectangular package that had jut been delivered. Her thin lips turned up in a slight smile; seeing the smooth brown-paper wrapping always excited her. She slid her hand over the smooth paper, lingering briefly over the sloppy scrawl of her name and address in black marker across the center of the package.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Darla peered over the stack of paperwork she was sorting at the desk. "I know you've been dying for it to arrive!"

Emily eyed the twine binding eagerly. "I have been waiting for ages!" She held her hand out towards Darla who knowingly placed a pair of scissors in her boss's waiting palm. "I expected this much sooner. I wonder what held it up." She parted the scissors and snipped apart the twine.

"Have you heard from him lately?" Darla neglected her paperwork to watch Emily's delicate unwrapping of the package.

"No."

"I thought you spoke with him often."

"I did." Emily agreed. "I assume he's been busy."

"You miss him don't you?"

"Hardly!" Emily turned her green eyes to her assistant. "How can I miss someone I've never even met?"

"You have a better relationship with him through phone calls than I've ever had with a man in person." Darla decided. "That's not exactly something you can neglect."

"What he and I have is strictly professional." Emily insisted. "He has a girlfriend, anyhow."

"Nothing is absolute until there is a ring. They aren't engaged, are they?"

"Not that I know of."

Darla noted the smile lighting up Emily's face. "See, then he's fair game."

"Darla, an engagement does not make him fair game."

"Regardless, aren't you going to open the package?"

Emily used the scissors to slice open the brown paper wrapping and pulled it away, revealing the anticipated painting. She gasped as it was revealed; her eyes took in the details excitedly.

"It's incredible." Darla murmured from behind the desk.

"They always are." Emily admired the intricate painting technique of her favorite artist and the number one client of her art gallery. She analyzed the signature in the bottom corner and smiled as she repeated the name out loud: "Mendez."

"Did I hear my name?"

Emily spun from the painting, looking towards the front door where the voice came from. "I'm sorry?" She spotted the young man standing at the door. Taking note of his paint-splattered jeans and stylish dark red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, contrasting with his loose tunic shirt. "Who are you?"

The dark-haired man smiled and nodded towards the painting. "I'm Isaac Mendez."

"You…" Emily lost her words as she stared at the man she had wanted to meet ever since his first painting had arrived in her shop a year ago. "Oh my god…"

He crossed the floor of the gallery and held his hand out to her. "Emily Banks, correct?"

"Yes." She shook his hand. "I…I thought you were in New York."

"I was, but I figured it was about time we met in person." He glanced at the painting leaning up against the wall behind her. "I see you've received my latest piece."

"Yes, finally."

"Sorry for the wait. I've been a little…preoccupied lately." He smirked.

"I'm just glad it finally came."

His phone chirped and he retrieved it from his pocket, glancing at the caller ID briefly. "I have to take this. Give me just one minute." He crossed the floor again and stepped outside onto the sidewalk, letting the door of the gallery shut before he answered his phone. "Hello."

"Have you arrived yet?" The voice on the other line questioned without wasting time on a greeting.

"Yes. I've just introduced myself to her."

"And she believes you?"

"Yes, she thinks I am Isaac Mendez."

"Good. Does she have the painting?"

"Yes, but she seems to have just received it. I haven't had the time to analyze the details yet."

"Stop wasting time. It is of utmost importance for us to know what that painting means."

"I am aware of my assignment."

"Good. Call us when you've accomplished it, Mr. Sylar."

"I will." Sylar hung up the phone and breathed in the crisp British air deeply before stepping back into the gallery.

PETER, CLAIRE & MOLLY

"So, let's start at the beginning." Claire decided, watching Molly's expressions carefully to pick up on her emotions. "How long have you been having these nightmares?"

Molly thought about it before answering. "It started a couple days after my parents were killed, but it's been getting worse."

"What do you see?" Claire asked. She glanced at Peter, but he seemed content to just listen.

Molly fell silent. Claire noticed her small hand trembling as it clutched her mug of hot chocolate.

"Sweetie," Claire moved closer to give the girl comfort. "It's okay. You're safe here. We won't let anyone hurt you."

"I'm always somewhere dark." Molly began. "And it feels cold. I always feel so cold. And I can usually hear talking, sometimes screaming, but I don't know where it comes from. And then…" She paused and tears sprang to her eyes.

"What is it?" Claire encouraged. "What comes next?"

"And then he comes…" She squeezed her eyes shut and her whole body seemed to quiver. Peter quickly took her mug as it began to spill over.

"Molly, it's okay." Claire set her own mug down and pulled Molly into her arms. "Open your eyes. Look at me." She rubbed the girl's back, trying to calm her down. "Don't think about it. Just focus on me."

After a few more minutes Molly finally opened her eyes, connecting with Claire anxiously. "Don't make me think about him!" She sobbed. "I don't want him to see me."

"All right." Claire continued to soothe her. "Don't focus on him. Don't let yourself focus on him and then he won't be able to control you. Just keep focusing on me."

"He's too strong." Molly insisted. "I'm scared."

Claire felt it was a little unnecessary to ask, but she did so anyway. "What exactly scares you? What does he do that scares you so much?"

"He doesn't let me go. I can't get out on my own and I'm scared that one day I won't be able to get out at all!"

"Where are you when you sleep? What is happening?"

"I can see everything he is doing and I can feel how mad he is! He's evil." Molly summed up. "He's so much worse than the boogeyman."

"What is it that makes him so evil?" Peter finally spoke up.

"He hurts people in their sleep."

"Other people? It's not just you?"

"No. He doesn't hurt me." A tear slipped down her cheek and she rubbed her away on Claire's shoulder. "He makes me think of people so he can see them too…so he can find them. Then he shows me what he's doing to everyone else and…"

"What else?" Claire questioned when Molly quieted.

"He shows me bad things that will happen."

"Like the future?"

"I don't know if it's real. They're so bad." Her eyes gazed up at Peter and then at Claire. "He shows me bad things he could do to you."

"To us?"

"I think he wants me to show him where you are." She started shaking again. "But I don't show him. I'm scared that I won't always be able to fight him. You have to keep him out of your mind."

"What would it be so bad if he got in our minds? They're just dreams right?"

Molly shook her head. "If you die in your sleep, you die for real."

Claire looked to Peter whose expression matched the confusion she was feeling. "Molly, how…"

"You don't believe me, but it's true. I've seen it. He's shown me." She started crying harder. "Don't let him in. I don't want you to die."