Fic: Dark Heart Swagger

[katsfic]

Banner by onerottenpeach

Title: Dark Heart Swagger
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Elle/Sylar, Claire/Elle, Elle/Sylar/Claire
Warnings: Violence, Sex, Swearing, Angst, Character Death, Kidnapping…
Word Count: 10,603
Summary: Being kidnapped and dragged half-way across the country by the two most psychopathic psychopaths she'd ever met--and she was a back-door Petrelli, so that was saying something--turns out to be an experience Claire will never forget.
A/N: Fic takes place right around The Eclipse Part Two but veers off from there. There is dialogue taken from Shades of Gray, tweaked for my purposes. I would like to thank the three friends who beta’d for me, encouraged me, and kept me going when I thought I was done. Thank you, eeeyore9990, dragynflies, and andbless_mybaby! All mistakes are mine. Written for polybigbang.

Fan Art By the talented onerottenpeach, she’s amazing and I was so fortunate to have her make fanart for this fic!

Fanmix by me, Cover Art by onerottenpeach



Claire woke to the sensation of being watched.

She rolled over and fumbled with the lamp on her bedside table. Soft light illuminated the room and the two people she never thought she'd see again, let alone sneaking around her bedroom after midnight. Sylar stood in the corner with arms crossed, looking smug in a blood soaked t-shirt. Leaning next to him was none other than Elle, who was wearing an evil smile as blue electricity sparked from her fingertips.

"Get dressed, Claire. We're taking a little trip." Elle walked over to her closet, opened the door and started to rummage around. She stopped when she found Claire's gym bag, and tossed it on the bed. "You mind if I borrow this? We got blood all over everything!" She held a shirt up to her chest and smiled at Claire, like they were girlfriends sharing clothes at a sleepover.

Claire couldn't decide if this was a nightmare brought on by eating too much popcorn before bed, or a PTSD-fueled hallucination due to being shot and dying just a day ago.

"What are you doing here? What do you want?" Claire chose to ignore Sylar altogether; maybe that part of her dream would disappear if she didn't acknowledge it. But of course he was the one to speak up when Elle ignored her questions.

"You, Claire-bear. We came for you. Your grandfather is dying to meet you." He didn't move from where he was, just inclined his head slightly. His eyes darted to Elle. "Hurry up. I don't want to run into Noah."

"Chill out. This is my plan; if we'd come in here all gung-ho like you wanted, Bennet would have shot us by now." Elle rolled her eyes and shoved more clothes into Claire's gym bag before heading to the bathroom and flicking on the light. She poked her head out the door and smiled at Claire in a way that turned her stomach. "Get up, pom-pom. Don't worry, I grabbed your toothbrush."

Not a dream, possibly a nightmare. Claire closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead while she tried to think. Her grandfather? What did he want with her? And why send two psycho killers when a nicely written card would have sufficed? That's what grandparents were supposed to do: send birthday money and call at Christmas. She had a sinking feeling in her chest that she didn't want to meet this long-lost relative. She somehow doubted Arthur was the type to wear brown sweaters and offer her hard candy. Claire knew that her biological relatives weren't always conventional, but abducting minors for a familial pow-wow seemed a bit excessive by any standards.

Claire opened her eyes and watched as the covers on her bed lifted themselves and settled into a heap on the floor. Sylar smirked at her and looked like he was about to say something when Elle trotted out of the bathroom and stood beside him. "Let's go, cheerleader, we're out of time. Don't worry, we won't make fun of your jammies." She stepped forward and reached for Claire's hand, pulling her out of bed. "Although I gotta say, your fetish for teddy bears is a little overwhelming."

With Elle leading her by the wrist and Sylar behind her, they made their way down the stairs and out the back door without incident. Claire thought about crying out, knowing her dad would do everything in his power to rescue her. But thoughts of her mom and Lyle kept her mouth clenched shut. What if her brother came out of his room first? What would Sylar do to him? She mentally played the scenarios out in her mind, and knew she was making the right decision. She couldn't risk her family; it was too dangerous. When the time was right she'd escape these two and contact her dad. It was the only plan that made any sense.

Once outside, they led her to a red convertible parked a block down the street. Claire had to stop walking and catch her breath when the feeling of the world tilting sideways made her dizzy. Sylar grasped her shoulders and held her upright in an uncharacteristically gentle way. Elle stopped tugging on her arm and turned to see what was holding them up.

"Take a breath, Claire. You're going to be fine. I promise."

And then they were moving down the sidewalk again, the cold concrete on Claire's bare feet a constant reminder that this was real, this was real. Elle opened the door to the car, threw her gym bag in the back and pushed Claire in after it. "Get comfortable, we have a long ride ahead."

Sylar twirled the keys in his hand and climbed into the driver's seat as Elle got in beside him. They slammed the doors at the same time, and the sound was so ominous, Claire got chills. Reality snapped back in place around her, and Claire knew this was really happening- she was being kidnapped by some warped version of Bonnie and Clyde and was helpless to do anything about it. Sylar started the car, and the engine roared to life.

He twisted in his seat, pinning her with the weight of his gaze. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Aww, clichés now?" Elle sniped at him.

"What?" Claire asked, looking between the two of them, wondering just what level of insanity they'd managed to reach.

"The easy way is, you sit there like the good little girl I know you are. The hard way? I make you sit there. Your choice." The instant the words were out of his mouth, Claire felt herself freeze against the back of her seat, unable to so much as move a finger. The loss of control was terrifying, demoralizing. And then, with a slow, deliberate blink of his eyes, she was free.

Gasping, she ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to convince her body that nothing was wrong. She knew she'd have to do anything to keep him from doing that again. Mind racing, she threw herself against the seat, avoiding his eyes as she forced her lips into a pout. "I won't do anything. Knowing you, you'd steer the car toward a van-load of kids or something."

Light laughter tinkled before Elle met her eyes in the rear-view mirror and said, "Don't give him any ideas, Pom Pom."

She could feel Sylar's eyes on her before he shifted the car into gear. A moment later they were speeding away from her home and family and into the unknown.

They drove for what felt like hours while the velvety, dark night pressed against the windows and made the world outside the car look foreign and alien. Claire tried to think of a way to escape, but her sleep-addled brain refused to process the request. She finally settled back and allowed herself to doze off, although it wasn't restful sleep by any means. She knew they would have to stop eventually and that was when she would make her move and hope for the best.

Unfortunately, the dynamic duo had other plans.

"We'll stop here for the night." Sylar steered the car off the road and into a grassy field before shutting off the engine and the lights. "Bennet will be checking the local places, if he's noticed his princess is missing." Elle nodded in agreement and ran her hands through his hair in a tender gesture. Claire suppressed the urge to gag.

"I have to pee." Her voice was a whisper she barely recognized. Knowing that it might be her chance, she refused to waste it even if she failed miserably.

"Nice try." Sylar tossed an empty Gatorade bottle over his shoulder, calling her bluff, and met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Use that. You don't want to try running from us here. We're in the middle of nowhere... and even if you get away, the coyotes will get you before anyone can come to your rescue."

Claire glared back at him and refused to look away; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of cowing her. Elle took their stand-off as an opportunity to crawl into Sylar's lap and wrap her arms around his neck. Sylar finally lowered his eyes and gave his full attention to Elle, kissing her fervently until she was purring and unbuttoning her shirt. Claire didn't count it as a victory but found herself grateful not to be pinned under Sylar's dark gaze any longer. She balled her hands into fists until she felt her nails cut into her palms.

She stared out the window and pretended she didn't know what was happening just a foot away from her in the front seat. She didn't want to hear the rustle of clothing or the sound of bodies adjusting to accommodate each other. She didn't listen to the sound their lips made as their kisses grew more heated and frequent. Claire chose not to pay attention; if she didn't believe it was happening, then it wasn't.

But they were impossible to ignore. It was like watching a real live porno unfold right in front of her, steaming up the windows and making the small car rock back and forth on its tires. The sound of Sylar and Elle's moans and the smell of their sex curled around her like dark smoke, pungent and animalistic. Claire watched in horror as Elle wrapped her body around Sylar's; she was all long arms and legs drawing him closer and guiding his mouth to her exposed breasts. He tongued her nipples while she rode him hard; she leaned against the steering wheel for support and murmured words of encouragement with every thrust.

Claire lowered her head when she realized Sylar was watching her watch them fuck in the mirror, his eyes dark pools of lust and barely restrained violence. Her own body's reaction was the worst betrayal; her nipples tightened under her nightshirt, and the arousal coiled low in her belly became a slow ache between her legs. She turned away from them and pressed her face into the soft leather of the back seat, covered her ears so she couldn't listen to the rhythmic sounds of their fucking. Nothing helped, but eventually sleep overcame her and brought with it a brief respite from the madness of her captors.

The bright light of the sun hurt Claire's eyes the next morning. She tried to rub them, but found that one of her arms was trapped under the sleeping form of Elle, who was snuggled close to her side, one leg wrapped around her waist, dressed in Claire's own clothes and looking for all the world like a pouting child while she slept. The memories from the past few hours came back in a rush: her kidnapping, the long night drive, and Elle and Sylar's spectacular sex life put on display so she could witness it. Her life was getting so bizarre, and this was the final straw.

She tried to pry Elle loose from her body and only managed to shake her awake so she mumbled incoherently and pushed closer. Desperate for space, Claire finally spoke up:

"Hey, Elle, get the hell off of me!"

"Shhhh. It's too early." Elle raised her head and smiled and then pressed her face into Claire's neck.

"If you don't get away from me now, I'm going to shove you to the floor. MOVE." She placed her free hand on Elle's shoulder and pushed, managing to move the girl only an inch or two.

"Okay, okay. Chill out." Elle sat up and ran her hands through her tousled blonde hair. "What's your problem?"

Anger boiled through Claire like hot steam. "My problem? My problem? Are you fucking kidding me? What do you think my problem is? Maybe that you broke into my house last night and kidnapped me? You think I might have a problem with that? Or being trapped here in this car with you in the middle of nowhere? Is that a problem? Or how about you and your delinquent boyfriend taking me to see someone who might want to kill me? That is one of my problems." She shoved the other girl hard and used the momentum she caused to sit up and glare at her. She didn't mention the two of them having sex right in front of her, but that was at the top of her list of problems too.

"Well, first of all, we aren't taking you to see Arthur, so don't worry your pretty little head about that. And secondly..." Her voice faltered as she sat up and stared at her hands for a moment before looking at Claire again. "I need your help, that's why we came and took you last night. Why I agreed to help take you."

Claire shook her head to try and clear the last dregs of sleep from her mind. "I don't understand. Sylar said you were taking me to see my grandfather." She glanced quickly around the car and realized that Sylar wasn't in the front seat. She and Elle were alone. "Where is he?"

Elle shrugged her shoulders. "Taking a walk. It clears his head."

"Great." Claire reached for the door handle only to be disappointed when it didn't move.

"He locked the doors," Elle stated matter-of-factly. “You know, telekinetically?”

"So we’re stuck here?"

"Until he comes back," Elle finished the thought for her.

"Perfect. Wonderful." Claire tried to think of a way to get out of the car and get some distance away before Sylar came back. Maybe if she convinced Elle to help her, she'd have half a chance. "What do you mean you're not taking me to Arthur?"

Elle smiled and settled back in the seat next to Claire. "He thinks that's what we're doing." She leaned closer like they were schoolgirls sharing secrets about their crushes. "I have to tell Sylar the truth about who he is, and he's not going to believe me. That's why I need you to help me. You’re my fail-safe."

"Your fail-safe? I don't understand any of this. You are crazy, do you know that? You two kidnapped me, but for different reasons? And you need my help... with Sylar... the guy who cut my head open and played around with my brain for an hour on my parents' coffee table?" Claire covered her face with her hands and tried not to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. She had suspected Elle was a little crazy, but this was above and beyond being a little cracked. She must be insane.

"I know who Sylar's real parents are. I've memorized his file and I'm going to tell him the truth so your family will stop using him as a weapon." Elle's eyes flashed, and she clenched her jaw.

"My family?" Claire asked, incredulous.

"The Petrellis. Your family." Elle nodded. "But he won't believe me. I've done things..." She lowered her head. "He has reason not to believe me. But with you here, it will be fine."

"Why does my being here matter?" Claire asked.

"Because he's obsessed with you." Elle leaned her head on Claire's shoulder and smiled up at her. "He has been for a long time."

Claire's stomach rolled, and she thought she might throw up. She took a breath and swallowed, closing her eyes. "He was obsessed with my power, and he finally got what he wanted," she managed to spit out between clenched teeth.

"You aren't that stupid, Claire." Elle rubbed a hand up Claire's arm in a soothing way and continued, "You don't really think that's the only reason he's been stalking you all this time, do you?"

"YES."

"And what did he say to you when he had you cracked open and exposed? What did he talk to you about?"

"I don't remember, and I don't care." She didn't want to relive that day. She wouldn't.

"Yes, you do. Tell me. Prove me wrong," Elle said in a sing-song voice.

"He said I was special and..." Claire gulped air and wiped at the tears that started to roll down her cheeks. "He asked how to make love stay."

"Exactly. See? Obsessed with you, the sweet little cheerleader," Elle said. "Not that I blame him." She clasped Claire's hand and squeezed. "He'll believe you because of who you are."

"But I don't know the truth! I don't know anything you are talking about."

"I'll tell you everything."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because you know me, and you care about me. I felt it on the plane and you did, too."

Claire wanted to look away from Elle and realized she couldn't. There had been something between them in their brief time together. The beginnings of friendship and maybe something else altogether. She did care about her, and she didn't want to see her hurt or worse because of the Petrelli's or the rival Companies or Sylar, but what was her place in all this? How did she wind up the center in this particular drama?

"You should let me go. My mom is probably worried sick by now." Claire decided to try the most direct way in getting through to Elle.

"I know. You can call them later today when we stop. I promise." She looked away but didn't let go of Claire's hand. "I need your help with this. Please, Claire. I love him, and I'm going to tell him the truth. But this is dangerous, and I can't do it alone."

"But I hate him, Elle. I want to kill him."

"Obsession is a two way street, isn't it?" She smirked at Claire before continuing. "You care about me, right?" Elle had her, and from the look on her face, she knew it. She kissed Claire on the cheek and clapped her hands. "This will work, I know it will."

Claire recognized Elle's manipulations for what they were: a very real plea for assistance in a situation that was way over both their heads. She wanted to say no to her and go back to being oblivious about who and what Sylar really was, but she recognized desperation when she saw it. This may not be like saving Lyle from bullies at school, but she and Elle were more alike than Claire cared to admit. The very least she could do was consider what Elle had to say before she made a decision one way or another.

She sat back and listened as Elle told her the story of Gabriel Gray's childhood and the horrors he didn't even remember. Elle was going to need her help with this, of that Claire was certain, and the realization that she had already made her decision left her breathless and shaken. She steeled herself for the chaos that lay ahead and hoped she and Elle would make it out the other side unscathed.

"When will you tell him?" Claire asked when Elle was finished talking.

"Today, while we're still on the West Coast. I won't risk getting any closer to Pinehearst. After today, he will be free of them."

The squeak of the door opening drew their attention. Sylar sat in the driver's seat and keyed the ignition. Elle winked at Claire and climbed up front as they roared out of the field and back onto the highway. Claire noticed that Elle was the only one to put on a seat belt.

About an hour later they pulled over for gas and coffee. Sylar lowered the top of the car and Claire put on a pair of jeans and sneakers from her gym bag and twisted her hair back with a scrunchy. She faked nonchalance whenever Sylar or Elle glanced back at her, but she was a ball of nerves and did her best to hide it. She didn't know what to expect from them, and that bothered her the most.

"Coffee and donuts. You might want to grab a clean shirt too," Elle called over her shoulder to Sylar once they'd stopped and he was filling the tank.

Elle opened her door and waved Claire out, and together they walked into the gas station bathroom. Claire didn't try to hide the look of disgust she knew was on her face when she got a good look around.

"It's not the Ritz, but it'll do. You have to pee, right?"

Claire nodded and ventured into one of the stalls, doing her best to not touch anything. After, she scrubbed her hands with cold water from the sink. There was no soap or paper towels so she made do, wiping her hands on her shirt when she finished. She stared at her reflection in the mirror until Elle appeared beside her.

"Don't worry; we'll stop somewhere decent tonight." Elle tucked a stray hair behind her ear and squinted at herself.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Elle?" Claire asked, never taking her eyes off the other girl. Elle nodded and looked away, not saying anything else.

Claire followed her back to the car where Sylar was waiting, leaning against the side like some kind of psycho rebel without a cause. Instead of the blood stained t-shirt, he now wore a short-sleeved button down with the name 'Earl' embroidered in red across the left pocket. He handed them each coffee and pastries from a cardboard tray and grinned.

"Are we ready, ladies?"

Claire glared at him and climbed in the backseat, thankful for the cup of coffee that kept her mouth busy and not making snide remarks. Elle smiled and tugged on his collar. "Nice shirt."

"Thank you. Earl won't be needing it anymore..."

Elle laughed, the sound high and wild in the desert sun. Claire choked on her coffee and gagged, her appetite replaced with rolling nausea that washed through her when she thought of what Sylar must have been doing while she and Elle used the bathroom. She shouldn't be surprised, not by this. Elle and Sylar were killers; it's what they did. It was a sobering reminder of just who she was riding around with and what they were capable of. No one was safe from them, even an unbreakable girl. She would do what she could to help Elle tell Sylar the truth, as she had promised. Then she was out of there. Claire planned to put as much distance between herself and them as soon as possible.

About an hour later, Elle turned off the radio and leaned close to Sylar, whispering in his ear. He looked over at her and slowed the car, eventually pulling off the road into some scrubby brush near a mile marker and shutting off the engine. Claire's entire body tensed up, as if anticipating a car crash or worse. She trained her eyes on Sylar and hoped for the best; the man wasn't known for his patience or taking bad news well.

"What's this about, Elle?" he asked. Arm slung across the back of her seat, he was the picture of relaxation.

"We need to talk about some things. Why don't we all get out and stretch our legs a little?" Elle's voice was quieter than it usually was; she sounded cautious and maybe a little scared.

Sylar turned his head and considered Claire. "You going to try and run away?"

Claire swallowed and shook her head 'no'. She wouldn't run from them, not until she fulfilled her promise to Elle. She would keep her word. Satisfied with her answer, Sylar opened his door and crunched across the sand and gravel that lined the road. Elle followed suit, and Sylar held his the door open for Claire; she stepped out of the backseat awkwardly, grasping the car and refusing Sylar's hand when he offered it. He shrugged and stepped back, eventually walking to the front of the car where Elle waited, her back arrow straight and a sad moue twisting her lips.

"Okay, start talking, Elle. We need to get back. Arthur's expecting us."

"It's about Arthur. And Angela." Elle took a deep breath and continued, speaking faster than before. "They aren't your parents, Sylar. They've been using you against each other; neither of them will ever tell you the truth." She paused and looked up at him. "I'm so sorry."

Sylar cocked his head to the side and blinked. "What?"

"I'm trying to tell you why we can't go back there." Elle reached for him and placed her hands on his chest.

"I don't understand..." Sylar grabbed her hands and squeezed them in his own. He stared at Elle, but Claire was certain he was no longer seeing anything in front of him.

"Ow, that hurts, Sylar. Let me go." Elle tried to pull out of his grip, but he held fast and continued to stare, unblinking. "It's the truth. I've read your file; I know everything."

Claire stood rooted to the spot near the back of the car, unable to move as she watched the situation unfold in front of her.

"Lies, all lies," Sylar growled, pulling Elle closer. His face changed into a mask of rage, his teeth flashed white beneath his pulled back lips. "Why are you lying to me?" He released her hands and wrapped his fingers around her throat, finally focusing on her and the here and now.

Elle held onto his wrists as she gasped for breath, her face turning red when her eyes rolled wildly. "Not lying. I swear. Please. Sylar, please," she gasped, her breath whistling out of her mouth.

Claire took several steps forward, unsure of what to do. If he didn't stop choking Elle, he would kill her. She made the decision to intervene when he didn't let up, and Elle started to turn blue. Her legs moved sluggishly, like she was trapped in quicksand, but finally she was close enough to touch them. Unsure of how to proceed, she started to yell at the top of her voice and charged Sylar, hoping to knock Elle free.

"Stop it, Sylar! You're killing her! Stop!"

Sylar pretended not to hear her, or maybe he was too far gone to hear anything but the voices in his head. But when Claire connected with his body, he moved enough to drop his arms, and Claire watched in relief as Elle dropped to the ground. It was like hitting a brick wall; Sylar barely moved at all, just absorbing her forward motion and throwing it back at her. Claire landed hard on her ass, skidding across jagged rocks and sand, grateful for the jeans that covered her legs and backside. She crawled the few feet to Elle and checked to see if she was breathing. When Claire brushed her blonde bangs out of her eyes, she saw Elle take a breath and then another, finally opening her eyes and blinking up at her.

"She was telling you the truth and you almost killed her," Claire shouted back at Sylar.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, barely hiding the all-consuming rage that lay underneath. "Good thing you were here, then."

She heard him walk around to the other side of the car and out of her line of sight. Claire helped Elle sit up and winced when she saw the red marks that ringed her neck. There would be bright purple bruises in their place in a few hours. She couldn't imagine how much pain Elle was in now, after being attacked by a man she professed to love.

"Start talking, Elle!” Sylar shouted.

"She can't talk, asshole. You crushed her throat." Claire wanted to scream at him, but saved her energy. This wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

"Did she tell you everything?"

"Yes."

"Then you start talking." He was closer; she could hear his boots scrape on the asphalt. "Tell me everything she said. Now."

"Why? So you can attack me too?"

"Talk, or I'll leave her here and we'll continue on this little road trip, just the two of us."

Fear spiked through her like a painful electric shock, and so Claire began to tell the story of Gabriel Grey. Her mouth had trouble forming the words but before long she was talking fast, forcing all the facts out in a rush of panic, hoping he wouldn't do as he threatened.

"Your father's name is Samson Grey. When you were four years old, he sold you to his brother and his wife to raise. It is believed he murdered your mother right after that, by slitting her throat. He's like us; he has abilities."

"Where is he? Is he still alive? Where does he live?"

"Elle knows. She'll tell you." Claire resisted the urge to start shouting at him again for abusing his girlfriend and instead helped Elle to her feet.

"Get in the car. Both of you."

She led the other girl to the car and sat with her in the back. It shouldn't have surprised her when Elle took her hand and squeezed it between her own in what Claire could only guess was a silent thank you. They watched as Sylar paced around the car a few times, obviously restless and unsure what his next move should be. She imagined what he must be experiencing at that very moment, cast adrift in a sea of uncertainty, everything he thought he knew was wrong. It was something she had experienced herself a few times in the past year. Finally, he sat in the driver's seat, shut the door and turned to look back at them.

"Which direction?" His question was directed at Elle but he was glaring at both of them.

Elle touched her throat and grimaced, managing to choke out, "North. Go north."

Claire shook her head when Elle smiled at Sylar and leaned against her shoulder. Theirs had to be the most fucked up relationship ever. Sylar nodded and then they were off again, blazing down the highway in a brand new direction. Claire didn't know whether to be happy or scared, but she seemed to have no choice now.

She was along for the ride.

They stopped at a motel for the night, road weary and punch-drunk from lack of decent sleep. Sylar opened the door and led them inside. He surveyed the room quickly and then turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him without saying a word. Claire tried not to think about it too much and searched the bathroom for a glass and water for Elle. Elle clutched it gratefully in both hands and winced as she swallowed it all down in a few gulps. She pointed to the phone on the table and mouthed 'call your mother' and then sat down on one of the beds with her back to the fake head board and closed her eyes.

Claire picked up the receiver and dialed the number, speaking clearly when the operator came on the line and asked to make a collect call. Her mom picked up on the first ring.

"What? Of course I accept the charges! Yes! Claire is that you?"

"Hi, mom."

"Where are you? I've been worried sick!"

"I'm fine. I'm..." Claire hesitated, she didn't like lying to her mother but she couldn't exactly tell her the truth either.

"Claire? Where are you?"

"I'm sorry I scared you. I had to leave in a rush and forgot to leave a note."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, it's not me. Someone... A friend needed my help. It's a mess, I can't explain it all over the phone."

"Do you need my help? You didn't even take your phone; how are you supposed to keep in touch?"

"It will be fine. I'm okay. I'll be home soon, I promise. I can't be hurt, you know?"

"That's not true at all, Claire. Look I'm going to trust you on this and not tell your dad, but you'd better call me tomorrow. Understand?"

"I understand."

"Do you need any money?"

"No. I'm okay. I'll call you tomorrow; please don't worry."

"I love you, Claire."

"You too, Mom." She was reluctant to hang up the phone and break the tenuous connection to her family, but she did it anyway, frowning to herself.

Claire sat down on the bed with Elle and watched as the other girl slept peacefully. She had slipped down the bed, her head cushioned by the pillow, curled on her side like a child. Claire grabbed the corner of the bed spread and pulled it up and over her, covering her legs. Elle didn't stir or wake up as Sylar walked back in the room with two plastic bags dangling from one hand and a small plastic box under his arm. He shut the door quietly behind him and set everything on the low table next to the window. He looked over at Elle for a minute before flicking his eyes to Claire.

Claire pretended to show no interest in him or the bags that smelled like Chinese food. It worked well until her stomach growled loud enough for the people in the next room to hear. She chewed on a thumbnail for something to distract herself with and nearly jumped when Sylar spoke.

"Come here." Not a question or a request. A command.

Claire ignored him and reached for the remote, turning on the TV and watching whatever showed up on the screen. She dropped the remote when he took a step closer and started to unbuckle his belt, pulling it quickly from the waist of his jeans and holding it loosely at his side.

"Come here. Please.." It didn't sound like he was asking that time either; he sounded pissed off.

Claire tried not to show fear even though she felt goose bumps rise across her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead she looked him in the eye and asked, "What do you want?"

"To stop playing games, Claire." Sylar growled and grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her around, forcing her to sit in the lone rickety chair next to the table. He released her once she stopped moving and opened the box, spreading out the contents methodically and with purpose. Claire recognized a first aid kit and breathed a sigh of relief when he unwrapped a small syringe and set it aside. He placed a rolled ace bandage in the palm of her hand and looped the belt around her upper arm, drawing it tight. She watched him study her arm before reaching for the syringe and pushing it into the vein just above her elbow.

The touch of his hands on her skin was like warm water, almost comforting. The memory of him rescuing her at Stephen Canfield's house flitted through her mind. How he could be a murderer one minute and a hero the next was something she would never understand. She should feel fear, but instead she felt something dark and indescribable, a horrific attraction to the man she knew was a monster. Claire forced everything away from her and concentrated on the prick of the needle and nothing else. She didn't flinch or blink or make a sound. It didn't hurt after all.

"Why not use yours? You have the same ability as me." It was meant to be an insult, and it sounded like one.

Sylar bared his teeth at her in a feral way before answering, "Because this is easier." When the syringe was full, he pulled it free with one hand and undid his belt with the other.

"Glad to be of service, then." She left off calling him an asshole. She was pretty sure he could tell exactly what she thought of him by the tone of her voice. But she couldn't help watching as he turned away and walked to where Elle slept. He leaned over her and touched her face, whispering something she couldn't quite hear. His demeanor was almost caring when he turned on the bedside light and injected his girlfriend with Claire’s life saving blood. Elle lay perfectly still and then rubbed her neck when it began to heal a few moments later.

"Thank you." Elle smiled up at him and touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"Thank her." Sylar stood up and moved away, tossing the empty needle on the nightstand. "Eat and then get some sleep. We'll leave in the morning." He ran his fingers through his hair and lowered his head as he grabbed one of the small boxes of food off the table and walked back out the door. This time he didn't shut it, but left it open. Claire could see where he sat and ate alone on the concrete step, his back to the room.

"Is that Chinese food?" Elle sat up and grinned.

Claire grabbed the bags from the table and joined Elle on the bed. Together they opened all of the cartons and started eating in companionable silence. Both girls chose chopsticks over forks and Claire mused that she didn't know anyone else that bothered with them. Despite her best efforts, she was beginning to like Elle and enjoyed their back and forth banter.

"Is he always like that?" Claire nodded towards the door.

"No. What I told him today really fucked him up." Elle helped herself to a dumpling and chewed happily. “That. And I think he's jealous."

Claire choked on her mouthful of pork fried rice and reached for her can of Sprite. The bubbles in the drink tickled her nose; she swallowed quickly, grateful when the sensation passed. "Jealous of what?"

"Of us. Of you. You know. You were so young. You still are actually. And then you were his niece. And now... Here you are. Right in front of him." She took the carton of rice from Claire and nodded like the answer was an obvious one.

Steering the conversation to an easier subject, Claire asked, "How does your neck feel?"

"Better, thanks. That wasn't so bad. It was the gun shot wound that really hurt. It's gone now too."

"You were shot? Where?" Shocked, she lowered her chopsticks and stared at Elle.

"In my leg. It was just a flesh wound. Good thing Ben- your father is a bad shot." Elle giggled and continued eating.

"My dad shot you? When?"

"Right before he slit Sylar's throat."

Lights danced behind Claire's eyes, and she almost passed out. It was one thing to know what her father did for a living, it was something else entirely to face the reality head on and sit sharing a meal next to someone he'd tried to kill.

Elle tilted her head and studied Claire's face. "Are you okay? You look a little sick."

"I'm fine." Claire answered quickly, ready to change the subject again. Or stop talking altogether. "Let's see what's on TV."

"Cool, I keep missing American Idol."

The sound of the TV calmed her nerves and reminded her of home and simpler times. She wanted to turn off her brain and not think for awhile. There had been too many revelations in the past twenty-four hours, thoughts and feelings that she didn't want to deal with or process. Claire allowed herself to relax and decided not to worry about what might happen tomorrow. The distraction of mindless entertainment was a balm to her nagging worries. They watched one show after another together, talking only about reruns of Friends, Seinfeld, and Everyone Loves Raymond until they were both falling asleep.

Later Claire brushed her teeth and crawled into the empty bed, pulling the covers up to her ears. The room was dark; Elle had turned off the TV while Claire used the bathroom.

"Night, sweetie," Elle whispered from across the room.

It wasn't a surprise when Claire woke up and found Elle's body pressed against hers. The gentle tugging on her feet was the real surprise, as was the voice that accompanied it.

"- want to touch her too."

It was Sylar, slowly pulling her towards the end of the bed.

"Don't. It's too soon," Elle answered.

They were having a conversation. About her. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to make sense of what she had heard and what she had missed when she was asleep.

"If you push her, she'll just keep running. She has to make the first move."

Sylar groaned, and the bed dipped with his weight when he sat down.

Claire opened her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the dim light from the window. She could see Elle's dark form as she crawled down the bed and settled next to Sylar.

"Stand up."

Sylar did as Elle asked and stood at the end of the bed facing her. Then Elle got up and knelt in front of him. Claire sat up, wanting to see what was going on right in front of her. She could guess what was about to happen between them, but she couldn't look away. There was a connection between the three of them, real and undeniable, and she wanted to see this. She should feel ashamed or worse, but instead she felt only intense curiosity.

She watched silently as Elle slid her hands up the front of Sylar's jeans, resting her chin lightly on the bulge at his groin. Elle unzipped his fly and parted the material, exposing his cock to her fingers. She stroked his length slowly, taking her time. Sylar lowered his head and threaded his hands through her hair, drawing her closer. Elle licked the tip of his cock, and when he jerked his hips, she bobbed her head, taking him into her mouth. Not able to see well from where she crouched, Claire crept nearer, her skin flushed hot and her pulse pounding in her ears.

Elle repeated the motion again and again, sucking and massaging him with her tongue and lips, humming low in her throat. Claire couldn't look away; she was drawn toward the pair, like a magnet pointing true north. She wanted to touch them both, join with them somehow. She was close enough to run her fingertips down Elle's back when Sylar tilted his head up and opened his eyes, capturing Claire's gaze with his own. He moaned once and, leaning over Elle, grabbed the blanket on the bed, yanking hard until Claire fell forward and had to catch herself or fall. Sylar's face was a hairsbreadth from hers, and she shivered when he exhaled suddenly and rocked his hips one last time. He didn't blink and Claire couldn't look away.

She had never been so terrified in all her life. Or so turned on.

Finally she leaned back, arousal swirling through her, making her ache between her legs. Her hands shook, and she tried to gain control of her body, needing to make sense of the desires that were controlling her. Sylar raised a hand as if to touch her and then let it drop before he stepped back, and the spell he and Elle had woven around her broke. Claire stood on shaking legs and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She left the light off while she showered, letting the scalding water sluice across her skin until it burned her raw. Eventually the shower turned cold, forcing her to get out and face her own image in the mirror. Green eyes stared back at her accusingly. She shouldn't be here; she should leave and return home, go back to her life where everything had a semblance of normalcy. Even if she knew it was all a facade.

Claire put her clothes on and left the bathroom, Elle and Sylar were dressed and waiting for her.

"Let's roll." Sylar lead the way out the door.

It was her chance to say something, time for her to get away. Her tongue stuck in her mouth and the words wouldn't come. She stood perfectly still, feeling like her entire body was a live wire.

Elle reached for her hand and pulled her forward; together they climbed into the backseat. Sylar watched them both with hungry eyes before taking his place behind the wheel and starting the engine. They headed north, and as the sun bled across the horizon, they left the darkness of the night before behind them in a spray of gravel and the squeal of tires on asphalt.

The miles melted away faster than Claire expected. They stopped at an old time diner for coffee and food. Sylar talked little, but Elle kept up enough conversation for everyone.

"I had the most incredible dream last night, pom-pom," she confided over her stack of blueberry pancakes with whip cream. Elle traced her finger across her plate and licked her finger slowly, sucking the tip and waggling her eyebrows.

The heat of embarrassment and shame burned Claire's cheeks, and she lowered her eyes, staring into her coffee cup as Elle continued.

"We were on a boardwalk, you know? Like with rides and stuff? You and me were riding on the carousel. Round and round we went. Holding hands." A shy smile graced her lips and then disappeared when she cut into her food with her fork and ate a mouthful.

Claire glanced up and watched as Sylar raised an eyebrow at Elle's commentary, an amused quirk of his mouth was there and gone a second later. She had been certain Elle was going to bring up the strange situation they'd found themselves in the night before. Sylar reaching for her... And Elle's unique redirection of the situation. It was the elephant in the room, and she couldn't help but think at some point one of them would mention it.

She didn't know whether to be thankful or worried but settled on the former. There was a strange comfort that came from knowing they weren't laughing at her for what happened, which she still didn't understand beyond the most basic level.

Instead, Sylar sipped his coffee, and Elle made happy chewing noises over her pancakes and declared the bacon the best she'd ever eaten. Claire felt a rush of emotion toward her. She was finding that, like so many other things in this life, she had misunderstood Elle. They weren't that different. Both of them cared for the people in their lives and were determined to do what they felt was best. Elle's methods were a bit off kilter, to say the least. But Claire knew she was in no position to judge. She'd spent months jumping out of windows and off buildings, all because she thought she was doing the right thing. These days she wasn't even sure what the "right thing" was anymore.

Life was no longer black and white, right or wrong. It was confusing and exciting. Claire shivered when she recognized the emotion she felt towards the other girl. Her skin tingled and her heart trip hammered in her chest. She liked Elle. If anything, she took comfort in the others girl's presence. Elle obviously needed a friend, and Claire had become that person for her.

Claire looked across the table and realized she was no longer scared of either of them. She was here because she wanted to be. But she hadn't yet figured out what that meant, and time wasn't on her side. What happened after this little road trip? The question nagged at her, demanding her attention, but the answer eluded her.

Back in the car, they settled once again into a comfortable silence. Claire thought about her mother and how she had promised to call again. She’d had a chance to do so in the diner, but had forgotten about it completely until now. It was funny how she felt relief instead of panic. She still wanted to talk to her mom, but it wasn't an urgent need anymore. The gentle motion of the car soothed her nerves like an opiate. She settled back and relaxed, losing track of time until the car jerked to a stop sometime later.

The clapboard house at the end of the gravel road was rundown and isolated. The woods surrounding it were alive with shadows, ready to reclaim the dwelling and return it to the earth.

Sylar pulled the keys from the ignition and held them in the palm of his hand as if weighing them. His eyes never left the house. The engine of the car pinged and creaked as it cooled, the sounds loud as a shotgun blast in the silence.

"You don't have to do this, you know." Elle was the first to speak. A rush of air filled Claire's lungs, and she realized she had been holding her breath.

"Yes, I do." Sylar tucked the keys in his pocket and opened his car door. "You two stay here. This shouldn't take long."

Elle reached for him from where she sat next to Claire in the back seat. Her hand squeezed his bicep, her arm flexing as she stretched to touch him. Sylar stopped and looked back, meeting her eyes with his own.

"I'll be right back." He looked to Claire briefly and then was gone. The slam of the car door announced his departure.

Claire leaned against Elle and held her hand. "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

Elle nodded and watched as Sylar entered the house.

"He's the most powerful special there is. He'll be fine." Claire stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't know that. Who is the one person who has the most power over us? Think about it, Claire."

She did think about it. How a person's parents could be their strongest ally or, in some cases, be as destructive as kryptonite. Her own fathers were perfect examples. It didn't take much imagination to know that Elle's father probably was too.

"So let's go in." She knew it wouldn't take much to convince Elle, and when the other girl smiled at her with an expression that could only be described as relief, Claire smiled back reassuringly.

Truth be told, she wanted to see the man that had fathered Sylar for herself. Maybe then she would have a better understanding of the man that had stalked and then attacked her. The same man that had apologized and saved her life weeks later, only to show up and kidnap her from her bed. The worst part was that she cared. She cared about Sylar.

Her world spun for a moment, and she squeezed Elle's hand in apprehension. "Come on. He won't even know we're there."

Claire led the way up the driveway and to the screen door that hung crookedly in its frame. It barely squeaked when she tugged it open and stepped inside. The interior of the house was dim and musty, dust motes danced in the watery sunlight filtering through the filthy windows. Trash littered the floor and made walking a slow and treacherous process.

They heard voices once they reached the kitchen.

"What brings you all the way out here?"

"I had some questions about myself. Who I am. Where I came from. But then I remembered, you abandoned me and killed my mother." Sylar's voice this time.

"So? What now?"

"Now? I kill you."

The girls stopped moving and waited for what would come next. Claire tried not to touch anything. The counters were covered in dirty dishes and food wrappers; the smell of rotting food was nauseating.

"Go right ahead. You kill me. Or the cancer does. Either way, I die."

Elle motioned to Claire and they started to move forward toward the voices again, entering a short hallway and pressing against the wall when they reached the end.

"Guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree."

Claire leaned forward until she could see into the room. Sylar stood next to a worktable, a large rabbit in his hands. The whole thing was too bizarre for her to contemplate. An old grizzled man, his hair white with age, stood nearby. He lifted an oxygen mask to his face and took a short breath, as if speaking left him weak and in need of air.

"I’m not your apple. You don’t know anything about me," Sylar answered angrily, but he didn't move away from his father.

The old man's black eyes glittered when he looked at his son. "I have some idea. You and I, we can’t be all that different."

"From where I stand, we have exactly nothing in common."

Elle stood on her tiptoes and rested her chin on Claire's shoulder, desperate to see what was going on.

"Yeah, well, we pick easy targets. Like that rabbit. Weak. Helpless. Not fair, really." The old man coughed and wheezed, pain evident on his face.

"Are you really drawing a moral line?"

"Morality? Doesn’t figure into it. Fish got to swim, birds got to fly. You have to kill, it’s who you are. But you do choose your prey and yours never had the chance. Not against you. Not really. Easy pickings. Small game."

"They had something I wanted. It wasn’t my fault if they weren’t strong enough to fight back."

She almost laughed at his statement. It was typical. So Sylar. Elle's weight shifted against her, and when she glanced back, she saw Elle roll her eyes and shake her head. Claire pointed towards the kitchen and nodded.

Time to go.

There was no reason for them to continue to eavesdrop on this conversation. Sylar's father could barely breathe; he wasn't a threat to anyone. They should sneak back to the car before they were discovered. Elle shook her head no and placed her finger to her lips. Claire sighed, but stayed put. She wouldn't leave until Elle did. They were in this together.

"You’re still clinging to that need for connection, huh? The only thing people are good for is disappointment."

"Is that why you killed my mother? Why you abandoned me?"

"I don’t even remember. Didn’t matter to me. So few things do."

"Well, now what?"

"Cut the thread. Go on."

Claire wants to gag at the sight of so many dead and stuffed animals. It seems a particularly cruel hobby, which is probably why Sylar's father enjoys it. They continued to watch, hidden from view, as Sylar cut a thread with a knife, nicking his hand with the sharp edge. She knew what would happen next; her stolen ability kicked in and the wound healed itself, leaving no trace.

"How’d you do that?"

"It’s just an ability I picked up from a cheerleader. In California. I guess not everybody gets old. Not everybody dies." Sylar shrugged nonchalantly.

"Then you just have that much longer to suffer, don’t you?" The old man coughed and grabbed his oxygen tank.

Sylar walked away from the table, the dead rabbit limp in his hands. The sudden impact of the arrow that pierced his chest spun him around. The second arrow thunked into the wall, effectively pinning him were he stood. The old man stood with some difficulty, the air wheezed in and out of his mouth.

Elle lunged into the room. "Samson, stop!"

Claire could hear a faint whistling when she ran around the corner.

"His ability-" Elle ran to Sylar, his head was bowed and the metal arrows stuck out obscenely from his chest. "Shut him up!"

"It’s amazing how it comes right back! That desire. That hunger!" Samson crowed, giddy with power.

Claire tackled him, bringing her hands up to cover his mouth. His beard scratched her skin and the stench of cigarettes assaulted her nose, but she held on. Samson was far from being as frail as he looked at first glance. He didn't topple over; instead he rocked on his heels and managed to stay upright. He raised his hand and pointed an accusing finger at his son while wrenching his mouth free.

"You think this is going to stop me? You think you can beat me?" Spittle flew from his lips, and Claire didn't think she could keep him from speaking. He fought against her hard; she was barely holding on. "I want that power!"

"Sylar, wake up!" Elle wrenched one of the arrows free from his body and turned around. "Claire, move out of the way."

The bolt of blue electricity arced through the air, making all the hair on Claire's body stand up. She dropped to her knees and felt sparks dance across her skin. Samson fell down, his body dancing as bolts of Elle's power tore through his body.

"Stop!" Sylar stood behind her, gripping the other arrow loosely in his fingers.

Elle lowered her hands and grinned at her victim. "See, Samson? Your son is better than you. You can't touch him."

Sylar stroked Elle's cheek with his thumb and cocked his head to the side. "You came to my rescue." He looked over at Claire and blinked before reaching out and helping her stand up. "Thank you."

"I'm not finished yet." Elle smirked and ran a hand through her hair.

"You were wrong, Father." Sylar took a step back and guided Claire out of the way. "Not all people are a disappointment."

"Bye, bye Samson." Elle giggled and then finished what she had started.

They watched from the car, a safe distance down the road, while the house burned to the ground. It was helped along by the owner’s oxygen tanks and Sylar turning on the gas stove as they left. The combination was loud and combustible; the flames leapt high, exploding hot and bright as dusk fell.

Claire tried to sort through the overload of emotions that were assaulting her brain. As far as she could tell, all her thought processes had shut down. She had helped kill a man and she didn't feel anything. Not remorse, not regret. She supposed she might be in some kind of shock, but she still believed she should feel something. Elle sat beside her, a huge smile on her face; she actually seemed to glow with happiness. It was no effort to figure out how she felt about the whole thing. Sylar was harder to judge. He remained quiet and watchful, but something about him had shifted, changed after they’d left his father's house in ashes.

"I'm free." His words broke the spell of silence that had encapsulated them for the past few moments. "I can do anything now."

"What do you want to do?" Elle spoke up from where she sat next to Claire in the back seat.

"I don't know yet."

They traveled through the dark of night, moving fast but not in flight or pursuit of anything. Sylar’s face remained placid in the rearview mirror and his eyes less black and more open. Elle dozed beside Claire, her head tipped back and her hair messily pressed to her cheeks.

It was no surprise when they ended up back at the motel from the night before, in the same room no less. Claire wondered idly if the sheets had been changed, and then decided it didn't matter. She was the first to cross the threshold and crawl onto the bed, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she lay down and let the tension in her muscles ebb away.

Elle followed behind her and wrapped her arms around Claire from behind, holding her close. The bed dipped under Sylar’s weight when he joined them, but he kept his distance; his heavy boots thunked to the floor where he dropped one and then the other in quick succession.

The room was quiet and still, but eventually Claire could hear the sound of the heart beating steadily in her chest and feel Elle’s exhale of breath on her neck. She shivered and forgot how bone tired she was, sleep now the very last thing on her mind. Everything had changed. What she’d thought and believed. What she knew. Nothing made sense, but everything felt right.

The decision to act, to move, came swift and sudden. Claire turned to face Elle, not giving herself the chance to change her mind, to second guess what she was about to do, what she had wanted but dared not try until now. The quick kiss she pressed to Elle’s mouth was clumsy and hesitant, leaving Claire unsure where to put her hands, what to do next. Elle solved the problem, rolling them over and pinning Claire's hands above her head.

“Finally…” The words were barely past Elle’s lips before she was kissing Claire again, open mouthed and hungry, a wicked smile lighting up her face.

Elle pressed against her, parting Claire’s legs with her own and unbuttoning Claire’s shirt with her free hand between kisses. Claire gasped for breath and writhed in pleasure at the touch of Elle’s nimble fingers. It didn’t take long for Elle to undress Claire completely and then strip out of her own clothes.

“I’ve never done this before,” Claire whispered, desperate to feel Elle’s exposed skin.

Elle laughed, her head thrown back in abandon. “Me either.” She leaned forward and licked Claire’s nipple with a flick of her tongue. “Pity we waited this long.”

Claire’s vision blurred; the room was too hot despite her lack of clothing, and the bed was too small. For Claire, nothing existed outside this room at this moment. There was only her and Elle, flushed and moving together, their instinct guiding them. Claire yielded to the softness of Elle’s flesh, so similar to her own, but unexplored by her hands, lips and tongue.

They were together, Elle’s fingers slick and rubbing Claire’s clit, Claire suckling on Elle’s breast when Sylar joined them. He was hesitant at first, his hands on Elle’s back and shoulders, still keeping himself separate and distant. His shirt was untucked and open, his jeans unbuckled but still on.

Claire had never seen him this way, his brow furrowed with uncertainty. She was pushing away all memories of the fire from earlier that night, and with them everything she didn’t want to know or think about. The regret she didn’t feel over Samson’s death, the way she hadn’t hesitated to attack one man to save another. Instead she was embracing this, choosing Elle. What were Sylar’s motives? Were they like hers?

His eyes met hers across Elle’s body and he didn’t blink or look away; instead he held her gaze. “Please?” There was an entire story in that small plea, a world of possibilities and hope. She nodded once and then the three of them moved as one.

They adjusted, and forgot where one began and the other ended. They shared everything, every part of sweat slicked skin and thrusts and moans. Sleep found them front to back to front, the sun peeking under the drapes.

It didn’t take nearly as long to drive her home as it did to steal her away. The sight of her house filled her with dread. This was not how it was supposed to go. She missed her family, but this was no longer her home.

Claire didn’t open the car door. Elle rested her chin on the back of the seat and looked at Claire thoughtfully from where she sat next to Sylar.

“What do you want us to do, Claire?”

“Drive.” She lowered her eyes, not watching as her neighborhood disappeared behind them.

“Where?” It was Sylar who asked this time.

Claire smiled and closed her eyes, happy for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve always liked the ocean.”

-The Beginning-