Forget Me Not Chapter 14/?
Title: Forget Me Not
Author: Bunny
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Cannot claim.
Summary: Set around Shadowboxing; Claire discovers an amnesiac Sylar wandering around and takes it upon herself to help him.
A/N: What’s this? Two updates in one month? :-) I know how much that cliffhanger would’ve irked me, so I doubled timed it to complete this chappie. Wonder how many of you saw this coming?
Prelude Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16
Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you.
By now you shoulda, somehow, realized what you gotta do.
I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.
~Wonderwall; Oasis
Claire scrunched her eyes and froze as the cool touch of the Hatian’s hand met her skin. Every part of her being rejected what he was going to do to her, the wipe of all the good times, the world going to black.
But nothing happened.
“It is not working,” stated Rene in his thick accent. Claire’s eyes flew open at the statement. Didn’t work? Matt’s telepathy didn’t work, the abilities used on Angela’s rooftop didn’t work, and now this power wouldn’t work. What was different?
Her mind flipped to her baby, the only thing that was different in her life that might cause such a change. Given its parentage this was no surprise, but neonatal powers? Had this ever happened before? Putting this revelation on the back burner, she focused to deal with the situation at hand. Releasing her arms she pushed as hard as she could against Rene causing him to stumble backwards, before turning to her father and slapping him as hard as she could. The shock of the hit knocked off Noah’s glasses.
“How dare you!” she cried out. “How dare the both of you!”
A stunned Noah slipped his glasses back on, looking to the Haitian for answers. “What happened?”
“You tried to wipe my memory!” she yelled more, allowing the fury to poor through her body. “Why would you do that!”
His face reflected worried regret, “I only wanted to help Claire-Bear -”
“Don’t you ‘Claire-Bear’ me,” she snapped, picking up a pillow to beat on him. “I confess my big secrets to you and you just want to sweep them under a rug!”
“I only wanted to protect you, so you wouldn’t have to deal with his torment,” he reasoned, avoiding blows while backing away to the door. “You would’ve never had to find out.”
Not certain how she could possibly have become angrier she redoubled her efforts to force them to exit. “Get out! Go!” she yelled, getting pushier with her pillow hits. “Could you imagine what would have happened had this worked?”
Rene had chosen the wise route, leaving the apartment as soon as she had struck her dad the first time. Noah now reached the entrance, still attempting to salvage the situation. “This doesn’t change the fact that Sylar used you. Make it a clean break away from here, to get away from him and those memories. I promise you, it was just to make things easier for you. You would never have known.”
“Oh, I would know,” stated Claire darkly, standing firmly in the apartment while Noah was finally out in the hall.
“How?”
“Because, Dad, I’m fucking pregnant!”
His indescribably stunned face was met with a resounding slam of the door.
***
“Thanks for coming early for my check up,” expressed Claire, allowing her uncle into the apartment. “You didn’t take any messages from my Dad did you?”
“You asked me not to,” replied Peter, slinging his bag onto the table as he took a seat. “Not that he hasn’t been trying. Over and over and over again.”
“Yeah, me too,” she sighed absolutely relieved. Following his lead she sat in the nearest chair. “There are two things I want to talk to you about. First, I’m pretty sure my baby has an ability.”
He blinked with excited wide eyes. “That’s fantastic! How did you find out?”
“Matt and Rene’s powers didn’t work against me, then the same thing the day of the funeral with you and…you and Sylar,” she explained, trying to use his name naturally.
“You think the ability is like Rene’s?”
“No, not exactly. Because the lightning still worked and Matt’s telepathy still worked, just not where I didn’t want it to.” Peter nodded, clearly trying to think through what she was telling him. “Okay, I’m not all that sure how it works, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to borrow the ability for a little bit. Try it out, let me know what you think.”
Peter’s hand covered hers. “Done,” he offered with a reassuring smile, obviously excited to play with his new toy. “How did you know Rene’s power doesn’t work?”
“Because Dad told him to erase my memory tonight,” she answered evenly.
Her uncle reared his head back in confused concern. “Why would either of them do that?”
“Look,” she sighed, biting her lip against the swell of nausea she felt. Reaching across the table she grabbed tightly onto his hands, holding on desperately so he would believe this wouldn’t be an attack on him. “I’m going to start at the beginning because I need you to understand. And I know that by the time I get to the point you’re going to be so mad at me that you’ll stop listening.”
“What could I possibly be mad at you for, Claire?” he started, but she cut him off.
“Peter, please, you’re only making this harder,” she started, looking away. “I want to tell you about the guy that stayed here with me.”
“What’s bringing this up?”
Her eyes shifted to watch him push away the med kit bag to give her his full attention. “The fact that he came by for a visit tonight.”
“Where is he now?”
“Gone to I don’t really know where, that’s not the point right now. Do you know why I invited him here in the first place?” He shook his head, encouraging her to continue. “It wasn’t because his mind was so mangled he couldn’t remember his own name or what food tasted like or how fabric felt. It was because I had never seen that level of innocence, and confusion, and fear on anyone before. But I had felt it inside me. Trust me, inviting a strange man to my place still seems creepy, especially when it comes to him, but I refuse to apologize anymore.”
“Why should you need to?” he reasoned causing a stab of guilt to cut through Claire. “Why did he stop by?”
“He came back tonight because he remembered that particular month,” she informed swallowing
thickly. “Besides expressing his interest in, uh, well you know…” Peter smirked sympathetically as she blushed. Thinking about the next bit she giggled nervously. “I think he’s genuinely interested in trying to form a solid relationship.”
“You don’t seem very excited about this though,” he observed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Did you tell him about the pregnancy?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “And I really don’t think he noticed, which I think is good. For now at least.”
Peter frowned at her last statement, but moved past it. “None of this explains why Noah or Rene would want to wipe your mind.”
“Because they saw me with him,” she explained, suddenly with a dry mouth. Not able to look him in the eye she cast her gaze down at her clasped hands. “They saw me with Sylar.” Claire held her breath, waiting for the imminent freak out from the man across from her. The seconds ticked by so slowly that she had to peek at him. Peter’s face was white and he was frozen in complete silence as the fresh information worked its way through his mind. “It was Sylar.” No change in reaction. “Please say something.”
“I can’t listen to this,” he exhaled, burying his head in his hands as he stood.
“I wanted you to hear it from me,” she pleaded. “I never lied to you, Peter, I explained to you from the beginning the situation with the dad was complicated and that I would let you know later -”
His fist hit the wall four times as he let out a muffled scream of frustration. Claire flinched slightly from the sudden violence outburst. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he yelled, holding none of his fury back. “Did you not trust me with the truth?”
“Honestly, I didn’t trust what you would do with it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at yourself,” she desperately explained, gesturing a hand towards his frustrated form. “You’re so angry that you’re ready to go out and tear him limb from limb and anyone who gets in your way. Add that to your fury after Nathan’s death. If I had told you before the funeral you’d have been even more reckless and sloppy, because let’s face it, if I didn’t pull Sylar off the roof that night you would have died. And I’m not ready to lose you yet.”
“I have to ask,” he paused as though considering whether or not he really wanted to. “The day I called you to let you know my brother was dead, while I sat next to his cold lifeless body, Sylar was here wasn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“He still stayed here.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you sleep with him after that?”
She couldn’t help but stare at her worrying hands again. “I did.”
“Dammit, Claire!” he exclaimed, slamming both hands into the wall this time. “The moment you got off the phone did you jump him as a thank you?”
A cold shock slapped her face. “Of course not. How dare you say that!”
“You slept with Nathan’s murderer! Even when you knew full well that he was!” he screamed. “You’re pregnant because of him! And you deliberately didn’t tell me! Do realize how messed up this sounds?”
“Quit yelling,” she requested, choosing to not stand because she thought her legs may give out.
“Who else knows?” he asked with a little more restraint. “Who knew before me?”
She took a deep breath, knowing he wouldn’t be happy. “My neighbor, Dad, Rene….and Angela.”
“You told my mom?”
“Hello, her ability,” she sassed. “She knew before I did.”
“I still don’t understand Sylar. How could you have done that with him? You know what he was! You know what he’s done! And still decide to use poor judgment! How can you not feel disgusted with yourself?”
“Okay, so Claire screwed up, find a new freaking tune!” she at last yelled back, sick of being treated like dirt from those close to her. “I finally opened up to you and this is the situation now. So just accept it and move on to the next problem.”
“This isn’t just something that can be accepted!”
“Then get over it! I can’t change anything!”
The front door opened wide, slapping against the wall. The jarring noise was enough to make the argument stop in order to inspect. Sweetie stood there in that old pink nightgown, with Claire’s spare key in one hand and the other propped firmly against her hip. “I don’t know how you aren’t sick of it yet, but I know I’m tired of people coming to your home to scream and preach at you.”
“Sweetie, it’s fine really, we need to get this out in the open,” she stated, though internally thankful for the interruption.
The older woman clearly ignored the request, choosing to focus solely on Peter. “Aren’t you supposed to be her nurse doctor or something? How bad is it for that child to have her be stressed by you?”
“Who are you?” he asked in disbelief.
“Peter, Sweetie. Sweetie, my Uncle Peter,” she rush introduced.
“Alright then, Mr. Uncle, maybe you should take your tantrum elsewhere before you do something real bad.”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” he insisted, which Claire believed.
However Sweetie’s eyebrow cocked up in a manner that indicated she did not. “I may be pushing 70, but I can still teach you a lesson, boy.” To prove her point she strode a few steps forward, firmly twisted Peter’s ear up in her fingers, and proceeded to drag him towards the door. Clearly surprised by her actions, he had no choice but to follow letting out small yelps of pain. She chucked him out of the apartment, followed closely with his med pack, with a firm nod of her head. “And you stay away until you feel you’ve calmed yourself down. A lot.”
When the shock from the events wore off, Claire couldn’t help but laugh. The display from the past minute tickled her silly, but it wasn’t long before the laughter turned into crying.
***
Once down on the street Peter leaned against the building, catching his breath from the stress of the moment. Just thinking about what he had been told made him feel physically ill. Half stumbling along the wall in the dark of night he shook his head to try and clear it. Coming across some trash cans he kicked them down in anger. A dog barked in the distance as he flopped to sit down on the curb.
The man murdered his brother. The man had tried to take over the president’s office. The man had been determined to see New York City blow up. The man had even killed him how many times now? Hell, the man had killed her mother as well and tormented her in the safety of her own home. Yet she had welcomed him into her home, into her bed, despite knowing all of this on the short list. And even now she protected him.
He didn’t understand. By all accounts Claire should hate that man, but lingering feelings were obvious. What hurt the most was the lie. By keeping the secret from him she had joined the groups of people in his life who had distorted his life by keeping the truth hidden. Despite her warnings Peter couldn’t help but feel torn apart.
A sudden motion in the building across the way caught his attention, putting him on edge. Getting a second look around, Peter noticed a few things that were out of the ordinary. The black van with darkened windows that always sat a few feet down the street, an apartment across the street that had what seemed to be a telescope peeking through the blinds, the homeless man down the next alley that seemed to be paying him a little too much attention.
Attempting to appear natural he picked himself up and walked down the sidewalk to where the van idled. Once past it, he glanced behind noting there were no license plates on the vehicle. Pushing down the feeling of dread he traveled a little farther before taking his phone out. Even after everything he learned he still felt the urge to protect, to move onto the next problem as she had put it.
“Noah…Yeah, I just saw Claire. I know about it all… Listen, I need your help. I think she’s being watched. I think by a lot of people.”
***
Curled up in bed by herself, Claire allowed the tears to run freely down her face as she stared at her cell phone lying next to her. Some part of her brain realized how illogical it was to will someone to call, but that didn’t stop her from wishing it to ring.
She was now on day three without contact from anyone, even Sweetie. The first two days had been her choice, finding nonjudgmental seclusion relaxing, but now all she needed was for someone to assure her things would work out alright.
The child within her made some sort of movement bringing a laugh from Claire. “Why, thank you,” she muttered to it with a slight smile, placing a reassuring hand over her belly.
The phone next to her rang once and Claire had it pressed up against her ear. “Hello?”
“What are you wearing right now?”
Despite the smutty question, her entire body relaxed from the tense position she hadn’t realized she held. Rolling on her back she smiled peacefully. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
On the other end Sylar chuckled. “Didn’t think I’d get you to say that so soon.”
She smirked at his confidence. “It’s just been a long couple of days.”
“It’s because you miss me,” he teased. “If you need I could stop by real quick…”
“Nice try.”
“Or real long…”
“Sylar,” she cut off, failing to cover the mirth in her voice before getting serious. “My dad and Peter know about us.”
“What caused the sudden honesty?”
“Well with Dad seeing us wrapped up like that, it didn’t take him long to connect the dots, and Peter was only a matter of time after that,” she sighed, not overly upset by the fact anymore. Though she wasn’t speaking with either of them, they were people she didn’t have to hide from. “You didn’t come here to antagonize me, did you? I get that now,” Claire expressed what she had been pondering for days following the small lull in conversation.
“I needed to know where you stood,” he explained simply. “I needed to know if the experience affected you so strongly too.”
“You could’ve asked,” she pouted.
“Not the same as seeing it,” countered Sylar, something she agreed with. “Now, to make things even I believe I owe you a story from my life.”
“When was the last time you killed someone?” she rushed out before he could begin.
She could almost see the puzzled expression on his face. “Over a week ago.”
“Good.” Sighing contented, she settled back into the sheets more comfortably to listen. “That’s good.”
Prelude Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16
Author: Bunny
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Cannot claim.
Summary: Set around Shadowboxing; Claire discovers an amnesiac Sylar wandering around and takes it upon herself to help him.
A/N: What’s this? Two updates in one month? :-) I know how much that cliffhanger would’ve irked me, so I doubled timed it to complete this chappie. Wonder how many of you saw this coming?
Prelude Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16
Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you.
By now you shoulda, somehow, realized what you gotta do.
I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.
~Wonderwall; Oasis
Claire scrunched her eyes and froze as the cool touch of the Hatian’s hand met her skin. Every part of her being rejected what he was going to do to her, the wipe of all the good times, the world going to black.
But nothing happened.
“It is not working,” stated Rene in his thick accent. Claire’s eyes flew open at the statement. Didn’t work? Matt’s telepathy didn’t work, the abilities used on Angela’s rooftop didn’t work, and now this power wouldn’t work. What was different?
Her mind flipped to her baby, the only thing that was different in her life that might cause such a change. Given its parentage this was no surprise, but neonatal powers? Had this ever happened before? Putting this revelation on the back burner, she focused to deal with the situation at hand. Releasing her arms she pushed as hard as she could against Rene causing him to stumble backwards, before turning to her father and slapping him as hard as she could. The shock of the hit knocked off Noah’s glasses.
“How dare you!” she cried out. “How dare the both of you!”
A stunned Noah slipped his glasses back on, looking to the Haitian for answers. “What happened?”
“You tried to wipe my memory!” she yelled more, allowing the fury to poor through her body. “Why would you do that!”
His face reflected worried regret, “I only wanted to help Claire-Bear -”
“Don’t you ‘Claire-Bear’ me,” she snapped, picking up a pillow to beat on him. “I confess my big secrets to you and you just want to sweep them under a rug!”
“I only wanted to protect you, so you wouldn’t have to deal with his torment,” he reasoned, avoiding blows while backing away to the door. “You would’ve never had to find out.”
Not certain how she could possibly have become angrier she redoubled her efforts to force them to exit. “Get out! Go!” she yelled, getting pushier with her pillow hits. “Could you imagine what would have happened had this worked?”
Rene had chosen the wise route, leaving the apartment as soon as she had struck her dad the first time. Noah now reached the entrance, still attempting to salvage the situation. “This doesn’t change the fact that Sylar used you. Make it a clean break away from here, to get away from him and those memories. I promise you, it was just to make things easier for you. You would never have known.”
“Oh, I would know,” stated Claire darkly, standing firmly in the apartment while Noah was finally out in the hall.
“How?”
“Because, Dad, I’m fucking pregnant!”
His indescribably stunned face was met with a resounding slam of the door.
***
“Thanks for coming early for my check up,” expressed Claire, allowing her uncle into the apartment. “You didn’t take any messages from my Dad did you?”
“You asked me not to,” replied Peter, slinging his bag onto the table as he took a seat. “Not that he hasn’t been trying. Over and over and over again.”
“Yeah, me too,” she sighed absolutely relieved. Following his lead she sat in the nearest chair. “There are two things I want to talk to you about. First, I’m pretty sure my baby has an ability.”
He blinked with excited wide eyes. “That’s fantastic! How did you find out?”
“Matt and Rene’s powers didn’t work against me, then the same thing the day of the funeral with you and…you and Sylar,” she explained, trying to use his name naturally.
“You think the ability is like Rene’s?”
“No, not exactly. Because the lightning still worked and Matt’s telepathy still worked, just not where I didn’t want it to.” Peter nodded, clearly trying to think through what she was telling him. “Okay, I’m not all that sure how it works, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to borrow the ability for a little bit. Try it out, let me know what you think.”
Peter’s hand covered hers. “Done,” he offered with a reassuring smile, obviously excited to play with his new toy. “How did you know Rene’s power doesn’t work?”
“Because Dad told him to erase my memory tonight,” she answered evenly.
Her uncle reared his head back in confused concern. “Why would either of them do that?”
“Look,” she sighed, biting her lip against the swell of nausea she felt. Reaching across the table she grabbed tightly onto his hands, holding on desperately so he would believe this wouldn’t be an attack on him. “I’m going to start at the beginning because I need you to understand. And I know that by the time I get to the point you’re going to be so mad at me that you’ll stop listening.”
“What could I possibly be mad at you for, Claire?” he started, but she cut him off.
“Peter, please, you’re only making this harder,” she started, looking away. “I want to tell you about the guy that stayed here with me.”
“What’s bringing this up?”
Her eyes shifted to watch him push away the med kit bag to give her his full attention. “The fact that he came by for a visit tonight.”
“Where is he now?”
“Gone to I don’t really know where, that’s not the point right now. Do you know why I invited him here in the first place?” He shook his head, encouraging her to continue. “It wasn’t because his mind was so mangled he couldn’t remember his own name or what food tasted like or how fabric felt. It was because I had never seen that level of innocence, and confusion, and fear on anyone before. But I had felt it inside me. Trust me, inviting a strange man to my place still seems creepy, especially when it comes to him, but I refuse to apologize anymore.”
“Why should you need to?” he reasoned causing a stab of guilt to cut through Claire. “Why did he stop by?”
“He came back tonight because he remembered that particular month,” she informed swallowing
thickly. “Besides expressing his interest in, uh, well you know…” Peter smirked sympathetically as she blushed. Thinking about the next bit she giggled nervously. “I think he’s genuinely interested in trying to form a solid relationship.”
“You don’t seem very excited about this though,” he observed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Did you tell him about the pregnancy?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “And I really don’t think he noticed, which I think is good. For now at least.”
Peter frowned at her last statement, but moved past it. “None of this explains why Noah or Rene would want to wipe your mind.”
“Because they saw me with him,” she explained, suddenly with a dry mouth. Not able to look him in the eye she cast her gaze down at her clasped hands. “They saw me with Sylar.” Claire held her breath, waiting for the imminent freak out from the man across from her. The seconds ticked by so slowly that she had to peek at him. Peter’s face was white and he was frozen in complete silence as the fresh information worked its way through his mind. “It was Sylar.” No change in reaction. “Please say something.”
“I can’t listen to this,” he exhaled, burying his head in his hands as he stood.
“I wanted you to hear it from me,” she pleaded. “I never lied to you, Peter, I explained to you from the beginning the situation with the dad was complicated and that I would let you know later -”
His fist hit the wall four times as he let out a muffled scream of frustration. Claire flinched slightly from the sudden violence outburst. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he yelled, holding none of his fury back. “Did you not trust me with the truth?”
“Honestly, I didn’t trust what you would do with it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at yourself,” she desperately explained, gesturing a hand towards his frustrated form. “You’re so angry that you’re ready to go out and tear him limb from limb and anyone who gets in your way. Add that to your fury after Nathan’s death. If I had told you before the funeral you’d have been even more reckless and sloppy, because let’s face it, if I didn’t pull Sylar off the roof that night you would have died. And I’m not ready to lose you yet.”
“I have to ask,” he paused as though considering whether or not he really wanted to. “The day I called you to let you know my brother was dead, while I sat next to his cold lifeless body, Sylar was here wasn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“He still stayed here.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you sleep with him after that?”
She couldn’t help but stare at her worrying hands again. “I did.”
“Dammit, Claire!” he exclaimed, slamming both hands into the wall this time. “The moment you got off the phone did you jump him as a thank you?”
A cold shock slapped her face. “Of course not. How dare you say that!”
“You slept with Nathan’s murderer! Even when you knew full well that he was!” he screamed. “You’re pregnant because of him! And you deliberately didn’t tell me! Do realize how messed up this sounds?”
“Quit yelling,” she requested, choosing to not stand because she thought her legs may give out.
“Who else knows?” he asked with a little more restraint. “Who knew before me?”
She took a deep breath, knowing he wouldn’t be happy. “My neighbor, Dad, Rene….and Angela.”
“You told my mom?”
“Hello, her ability,” she sassed. “She knew before I did.”
“I still don’t understand Sylar. How could you have done that with him? You know what he was! You know what he’s done! And still decide to use poor judgment! How can you not feel disgusted with yourself?”
“Okay, so Claire screwed up, find a new freaking tune!” she at last yelled back, sick of being treated like dirt from those close to her. “I finally opened up to you and this is the situation now. So just accept it and move on to the next problem.”
“This isn’t just something that can be accepted!”
“Then get over it! I can’t change anything!”
The front door opened wide, slapping against the wall. The jarring noise was enough to make the argument stop in order to inspect. Sweetie stood there in that old pink nightgown, with Claire’s spare key in one hand and the other propped firmly against her hip. “I don’t know how you aren’t sick of it yet, but I know I’m tired of people coming to your home to scream and preach at you.”
“Sweetie, it’s fine really, we need to get this out in the open,” she stated, though internally thankful for the interruption.
The older woman clearly ignored the request, choosing to focus solely on Peter. “Aren’t you supposed to be her nurse doctor or something? How bad is it for that child to have her be stressed by you?”
“Who are you?” he asked in disbelief.
“Peter, Sweetie. Sweetie, my Uncle Peter,” she rush introduced.
“Alright then, Mr. Uncle, maybe you should take your tantrum elsewhere before you do something real bad.”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” he insisted, which Claire believed.
However Sweetie’s eyebrow cocked up in a manner that indicated she did not. “I may be pushing 70, but I can still teach you a lesson, boy.” To prove her point she strode a few steps forward, firmly twisted Peter’s ear up in her fingers, and proceeded to drag him towards the door. Clearly surprised by her actions, he had no choice but to follow letting out small yelps of pain. She chucked him out of the apartment, followed closely with his med pack, with a firm nod of her head. “And you stay away until you feel you’ve calmed yourself down. A lot.”
When the shock from the events wore off, Claire couldn’t help but laugh. The display from the past minute tickled her silly, but it wasn’t long before the laughter turned into crying.
***
Once down on the street Peter leaned against the building, catching his breath from the stress of the moment. Just thinking about what he had been told made him feel physically ill. Half stumbling along the wall in the dark of night he shook his head to try and clear it. Coming across some trash cans he kicked them down in anger. A dog barked in the distance as he flopped to sit down on the curb.
The man murdered his brother. The man had tried to take over the president’s office. The man had been determined to see New York City blow up. The man had even killed him how many times now? Hell, the man had killed her mother as well and tormented her in the safety of her own home. Yet she had welcomed him into her home, into her bed, despite knowing all of this on the short list. And even now she protected him.
He didn’t understand. By all accounts Claire should hate that man, but lingering feelings were obvious. What hurt the most was the lie. By keeping the secret from him she had joined the groups of people in his life who had distorted his life by keeping the truth hidden. Despite her warnings Peter couldn’t help but feel torn apart.
A sudden motion in the building across the way caught his attention, putting him on edge. Getting a second look around, Peter noticed a few things that were out of the ordinary. The black van with darkened windows that always sat a few feet down the street, an apartment across the street that had what seemed to be a telescope peeking through the blinds, the homeless man down the next alley that seemed to be paying him a little too much attention.
Attempting to appear natural he picked himself up and walked down the sidewalk to where the van idled. Once past it, he glanced behind noting there were no license plates on the vehicle. Pushing down the feeling of dread he traveled a little farther before taking his phone out. Even after everything he learned he still felt the urge to protect, to move onto the next problem as she had put it.
“Noah…Yeah, I just saw Claire. I know about it all… Listen, I need your help. I think she’s being watched. I think by a lot of people.”
***
Curled up in bed by herself, Claire allowed the tears to run freely down her face as she stared at her cell phone lying next to her. Some part of her brain realized how illogical it was to will someone to call, but that didn’t stop her from wishing it to ring.
She was now on day three without contact from anyone, even Sweetie. The first two days had been her choice, finding nonjudgmental seclusion relaxing, but now all she needed was for someone to assure her things would work out alright.
The child within her made some sort of movement bringing a laugh from Claire. “Why, thank you,” she muttered to it with a slight smile, placing a reassuring hand over her belly.
The phone next to her rang once and Claire had it pressed up against her ear. “Hello?”
“What are you wearing right now?”
Despite the smutty question, her entire body relaxed from the tense position she hadn’t realized she held. Rolling on her back she smiled peacefully. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
On the other end Sylar chuckled. “Didn’t think I’d get you to say that so soon.”
She smirked at his confidence. “It’s just been a long couple of days.”
“It’s because you miss me,” he teased. “If you need I could stop by real quick…”
“Nice try.”
“Or real long…”
“Sylar,” she cut off, failing to cover the mirth in her voice before getting serious. “My dad and Peter know about us.”
“What caused the sudden honesty?”
“Well with Dad seeing us wrapped up like that, it didn’t take him long to connect the dots, and Peter was only a matter of time after that,” she sighed, not overly upset by the fact anymore. Though she wasn’t speaking with either of them, they were people she didn’t have to hide from. “You didn’t come here to antagonize me, did you? I get that now,” Claire expressed what she had been pondering for days following the small lull in conversation.
“I needed to know where you stood,” he explained simply. “I needed to know if the experience affected you so strongly too.”
“You could’ve asked,” she pouted.
“Not the same as seeing it,” countered Sylar, something she agreed with. “Now, to make things even I believe I owe you a story from my life.”
“When was the last time you killed someone?” she rushed out before he could begin.
She could almost see the puzzled expression on his face. “Over a week ago.”
“Good.” Sighing contented, she settled back into the sheets more comfortably to listen. “That’s good.”
Prelude Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16