Heroes Collaboration Fic/Art: Seven Years and Fifty Days
Title: Seven Years and Fifteen Days
Author: freetheelves2
Artist-to-be: _odella_
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Gabriel/Claire
Word Count: 10,266
Warnings: none
Summary: Sylaire with a distinct Back to the Future twist. Claire thinks she can prevent Sylar from becoming Sylar by going back in time. She doesn't expect to fall in love with him, though, let alone turn out to be the catalyst that turned him into the monster in the first place.
Author's Notes: No art yet, posted now because of the sylaire_awards nominations, for the Gabriel/Claire category. Art will follow as soon as _odella_ finds the time! :3
Seven years.
Seven years since this curse of an ability had taken her and her life over.
A lot had happened in those years.
Claire had become a stronger, if not bitterer person. Her father had finally agreed that this was not the life for Lyle and her mother to lead, letting them live a normal life as they moved on.
It took a catalyst, however-- the Company threatening to breed super-specials. Like Peter, except that they could pick and choose abilities as they deemed fit.
Like crafting together an army of Sylars.
Sylar himself, of course, had remained independent throughout the whole ordeal. As soon as he'd gotten his powers back around the same time as Nathan's shooting, he'd taken to the darkness and spent most of his time acquiring new abilities, whenever it was safe.
He didn't pick and choose a side, just attempted to stay alive.
Adam Monroe came a long way to help him with that, and because he wasn't the first or the last, even the great immortal ended up just a statistic.
Nathan died after the shooting, too soon for Peter to understand or come to terms. He was left haunted and grieving until Claire told him that Nathan would have never wanted it like that.
After that, they decided to come together.
A general uproar of agreement followed, echoing around the world. It was the specials against the Company, an epic battle that would last longer than anyone could have expected.
The problem was in the misconception. The war had started in 1962, if not sooner, living longer in the hearts and minds of its founders.
There was no difference between then and now-- people still fell on both sides, much like they had before. The only difference was on their side--
The fact that they were working together now, stronger in groups.
The Underground was established, its founding members Peter, Hiro Nakamura, Claire herself, and her father.
When the verdict was kill or be killed, even Claire learned to murder.
Learned, even, to expect it.
After Mohinder Suresh and Matt Parkman joined their higher ranks, as well as the occasional non-special like Ando Masahashi, even West decided to join them.
Two weeks after working with them, he proposed to Claire, and she accepted.
They had people working under them, of course, a league of specials and their supporters. Much like a morally white version of the Hellfire Club, they battled the system and the organization so hell-bent on destroying them, molding them, shaping them into their own drones.
After the abandoned warehouse they were staying in was attacked, Peter proposed they actually move underground.
It wasn't difficult. With a whole cast of characters, each one's ability more unique and useful than the next, the quickly had fashioned themselves a whole underground labyrinth of operations.
Guerilla warfare at its finest, right underneath the streets of New York.
While the heads of the Underground had already placed themselves permanently amongst the workings underneath the city-- with a whole section branching off to several small individual living quarters-- more and more of the specials in their group wished for that same sort of protection, until the entire network turned into an underground city in and of itself.
Chronologically, Claire was nineteen. Physically, fifteen forever.
Her eyes reflected, however, someone much closer to the age of forty-seven, and it was with that sort of mature grace that she carried herself through the halls of the underground facility.
Peter met a very nice normal girl in support of their kind named Gina, and when he asked her to move into his quarters with him, Claire finally gave in and let West share her place with her as well.
The wedding was scheduled for June, even though no one was in a particularly cheerful mood about it, as they perhaps should have been.
It wasn't even like time really passed for them where they were.
While Claire never dared leave the comfort and security the underground facility offered, others were not so cautious, and in May, Sylar got to West, effectively killing him.
She spent a day in her room, not letting anyone else in, and returned to her post to keep working promptly the next morning, not a sign on her face of the prior days' events, surprising everyone.
After West, Claire did not dare let anyone else in.
The key was to bring down the Company from the inside. The fact that they had spies within enemy walls made her fear for their own facility's security.
When Claire turned twenty-two, looking not a day older than she had any of the previous seven years, she did not celebrate; did not so much as do anything differently than she would have any other day.
That year, however, proved itself to be vastly different from any other.
She would have thought to herself in retrospect that perhaps she should have known differently by then-- should understand that both sides suffered in a war like theirs, and that unless you picked and choose a side, the verdict would be every man for himself.
Survive or perish.
Kill or be killed.
She'd just never thought it would be someone like Sylar who would end up getting to her father. Save for West, he hadn't even been a bother these last seven years. The only thing he'd done was murder the occasional special not protected by the Company or the Underground, a fault on their part, before going back into hiding, keeping to the shadows.
"He would be an invaluable asset to the Underground," she'd told Peter that day, who had shook his head.
"That's playing games with your luck, letting him in."
"If we don't, the he'll become the Company's new addition, and then we're in serious trouble. With his help, they'd actually be able to figure out how to make super-specials, tweaking the DNA left and right--"
"He would never work for them," he'd told her rather tersely, and that had been that. "He would never work for anyone but himself."
When they carried her father's body back into the facility that rainy April day, soaked to the core, Claire had an idea.
"Hiro," she said very slowly, tasting his name on her tongue before swallowing, straightening a bit. "Think I can have a word?"
"Always," he replied, and turned from the screen before him to face her, pushing his glasses up. "What is it?"
"I have… a thought. An idea. I think it would be very helpful for the Underground, I--"
Clearing her throat, she licked her lips and met his gaze, not wanting to appear in any way weak in her standing behind the idea. "I don't want to go into too much detail, but I would like for you to drop me off in 1998."
"…why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he cocked his head.
"In New York. April. I-- I think I can change something. Keep… horrible things from happening."
"I will not mess with the past. Things happen for a reason, Claire," he said rather morosely, turning away from her, face grim, almost-- regretful.
"Please--"
"No. You can't change the past, no matter how much you want. I learned that a long time ago."
It took her ten minutes to find Peter.
"You haven't cried."
"Don't worry about it."
"Claire, your father died and you haven't shed a single tear. Something is wrong and don't think you are going to get away with--"
"I don't expect to," she snapped back, frowning.
"Listen," she started, closing her eyes. "I need your help. You're probably going to say no, but--"
"What is it."
"April, 1998. I want to go there. New York. Just drop me off and give me a couple of days, that's all I ask."
"Claire, messing with the past--"
"I just got a lecture from Hiro, you don't have to repeat what he said," she replied brusquely, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively.
"I won't do it. You're trying to change things--"
"What about Nathan?" she suddenly asked, taking a step towards him. "What about Nathan, Peter? If you had the chance to change things, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you rather have your brother here with you? Wouldn't you rather be able to ask him whether he agreed with what you were doing instead of constantly feeling like you need to reassure yourself that Nathan would have wanted this?"
"Claire--"
"No, I'm serious. Don't get condescending; it's not going to work. You know I'm right."
"This isn't easy," he growled, and she shook her head, pushing a forefinger into his chest angrily.
"You damn well know it isn't. And now you're telling me that even though it could be just the tiniest bit easier, you'd rather have it harder. Talk to me again when you decide what the hell you actually want."
She started to pull away just as Peter grabbed hold of her arm, yanking her back around to face him.
"Fine." It was clipped, it was tense, it was definitely reluctant--
It was all she needed.
***
"Do you even have any of this planned out?" he asked, helping her throw the last bit of stuff into her duffel bag from her closet.
"No."
"Where are you staying for these three days?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you sleeping? Eating? Do you have anything, Claire, just so I can be not a complete paranoid idiot about this whole thing and insist I just stay with you?"
"I thought I would play hobo for a while," she joked, throwing him a pointed stare.
"Very funny. Look--" he stopped, running a hand over his face, "why are you even going?"
"I can't tell you that, you'd tell me not to go."
"Claire--"
"No, I'm not telling."
"At least let me drop you off."
"Fine."
"You only get three days."
"Fine."
"Are you ready?"
"Never been readier."
Zipping closed the bag, he held up a full wallet for her to see for a moment before putting that inside the bag as well and handing it to her. "Don't let yourself starve."
"I won't," she reassured, grabbing the bag and nodding.
Just a blink of time where Peter closed his eyes, and the next second--
They were gone.
***
The Petrelli mansion backyard was just a rather memorable place, and when the two of them ended up there once more, Claire instantly recognizing it, she gave Peter a questioning look. "Wha--"
"That tree house over there," he pointed, "is just big enough and warm enough and comfortable enough for you to not end up complaining about me babying you. It used to be mine--" Claire shot him an odd look, eyebrows raised in shock, "because my dad felt guilty for always liking Nathan better, you see, so he thought anything his money could shell out would replace love… so I got this rather extensive tree house. I mean, it'll fit your air mattress and everything and then some."
"I… thank you," she said, furrowing her brow as she looked up at him.
"Personally, I would have preferred, you know, you staying at a hotel, or even an abandoned apartment building or warehouse or something, but I know how you are, and I know that you, given the choice of spending the night sleeping in a high-end hotel or sleeping on a bench, would choose the bench."
"I'm a minimalist," she says, waving her hand to discard the argument.
"Yes, yes, I know. Either way, you can spend the night there-- it's insulated and safe and believe me, at eighteen I would not spend any time out there. So you don't have to worry about that. You have money for food--"
"--that I probably won't use--"
"--that you should use, please, and I'll expect you, ready and packed at the foot of the tree house at midnight sharp in three days. That's… Saturday. Understood?"
"Yes, dad," she said, realizing too late that that still stung. Shaking her head, she turned to hug Peter.
"You can't get in touch with me over this time, so I want you to be careful. Take care of yourself, don't get yourself killed and-- for god's sakes, don't mess with time and events too goddamn much."
With that, he was gone, leaving Claire to set off towards the tree house.
***
He'd been right-- it was definitely big enough for her to place her air mattress on the floor and still have plenty of room. There were even windows, and it was well-insulated, so when Claire realized that the sun was coming up-- that she'd spent the early morning setting things up more or less-- she also realized in turn that she would not be too cold through the night.
Handy, that.
Setting her watch to approximately the correct time and date, she dressed herself in what she assumed to be appropriate school clothes and climbed back out of the tree house to watch discreetly as a young Peter Petrelli left his house.
Seven years of working and living closely with her uncle had led to a whole slew of what she would have previously considered useless information, but was now really coming in handy. Things like yeah, I went to school with him, same year and all, but just… different social groups, you know? So we didn't really talk, and it was close enough that I could walk, anyway had her now walking a few steps behind him, trying her hardest not to seem like a creepy stalker.
Five minutes later, however, that worry dissipated as they reached Lee Kirby High School, the first bell-- fifteen minutes-- sounding out.
Claire quickly set her watch to the right time, and followed Peter inside the halls, leaving him to his own business as she kept walking.
She wasn't here for Peter.
She was here for--
"Hey, watch where you're going, you idiot!"
"I-- sorry, I didn't mean--"
"Of course you didn't Gabby-- it's not your fault you have to wear coke-bottle glasses, right?" the boy mocked, pulling them off the other boy's face.
"Please, I-- give them back, please, I can't see without--"
"You'll have to get them yourself," he laughed, dropping them to the ground as he pushed down the books he was haphazardly holding onto as well.
"I--"
When the second bell sounded, most people scurried off to their respective classes, leaving only the boy, rushing to pick up his things again, and Claire in the hallway.
"You dropped this," she said, handing him his glasses with an apologetic smile.
"Oh-- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to--" he stammered, eyes wide as shaking hands took the glasses out of her hands, carefully slipping them on again.
"I know you didn't. It's okay. What they were doing-- that was awful."
He blinked, once, twice, before looking up to properly take her visage in. "I don't know you," he observed, seemingly shocked at the fact that she hadn't run away, made fun of him, or shattered his glasses completely as of yet.
"Sorry," she said, blushing brightly as her gaze fell to the floor. "I'm Claire. I'm, ah… new here. I don't start going officially until next week, but they're letting me stay for at least… figuring out how things work here. Sorry if I startled you."
It sounded really good, for an on-the-spot lie.
"I-- no, no, you didn't. I guess," he gave a hollow laugh, "you'll figure out pretty quickly that you're not supposed to talk to me. If… if you want to be popular, I guess. And… I mean, you're really pretty, you might actually have a shot."
Claire blushed even brighter, shaking her head as she picked his books up, moving to stand. "Don't say that, that's an awful thing to say. I don't mind talking to you. Really."
He looked for a moment like he wanted very badly to say something, eyes glancing around, almost nervous, before giving up. "I'm probably going to be late to class," he finished lamely, standing and looking rather awkward.
"Here. I can wait outside the classroom for you if you want," she said, handing him his books.
"If-- ah, um. If you really want to see how things work, I don't think my teachers would mind me showing you around and letting you sit next to me. I mean… no one else sits next to me anyway, so it's not like you'll be moving anyone."
Claire bit her lip, trying very hard not to just wrap her arms around the poor boy, tall and awkward and thin and rather pathetic-looking.
…like West, in a way. With a lot less confidence.
Claire's gaze dropped to the floor, and she shuffled her feet nervously, trying to think--
"If-- it's fine. You don't have to. I understand if you don't want to be seen with me--"
"What?" she asked, eyes meeting his again as she shook her head. "No, of course not, I'd love to sit next to you!" she said, eyes lighting up as her heart went out to him.
"Oh, um… ah-- okay," he said rather hurriedly, flushing before he set off down the hall, making sure she was catching up to him as he walked.
It wasn't long before they were both in front of the door to his first class-- geography-- and he held the door open for her.
"Gabriel, you're late," the teacher admonished, and as he started stuttering, Claire interrupted.
"I'm afraid that's my fault. I'm new here; I start next week, and he was just showing me the ropes. I couldn't find my way at all. He's been nothing but kind and helpful to me so far, please-- if you must punish someone for his tardiness, let it be me," she finished, leaving Gabriel looking quite awe-struck as the teacher-- Mr. Black-- nodded.
"Oh good. I'll mark down some extra credit, in that case. Go ahead and have a seat, Ms.--"
"B-butler," she stammered out at the spur of the moment. "Claire Butler."
***
"I really don't know how to thank you enough," he told her as he took a seat opposite her at lunch. "You're like an angel. I don't even know-- you just completely made my day, I can't even explain--"
"I'm not so great," she laughed softly, shaking her head as she watched him take out a brown paper bag from his backpack.
"No, but see, you are, and--"
"What's that?"
"I-- oh, it's, um--" he colored significantly, slumping in his seat slightly as he looked on at the bag a bit pathetically. "My mom packs my lunch for me, I know it's not--"
"Here," she says, grabbing the bag as she gets up, holding up a finger, signaling for him to wait as she throws the brown bag into the trash much to Gabriel's surprise, magically returning five minutes later with two trays of whatever the cafeteria special was.
"I can't believe you," he told her somewhat absently, staring in wonder at the food before him before looking up at her in awe.
"What, don't you like it?" she asked, frowning slightly.
"I-- what? Of course I like it! Thank you so much, I just…" he took a deep breath, his expression almost pained as he regarded her. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"If I don't, no one will," she answered, picking up several fries at once and shoving them into her mouth.
"…oh. Oh, of course. Um. Right. You're-- yeah. That's okay."
Had she said something wrong?"
Claire bit her tongue for a moment, thinking on this.
"It's not just that," she finally said. "I'm not doing this out of obligation, you have to understand that."
"Of course," he said, although the smile he gave her didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I… ha, my mother would probably kill me if she knew I'd spend practically the whole day with you. It's a good thing we haven't touched."
Claire's own smile faltered at that, as she tried to wrap her mind around what he'd just told her. "I… um. You don't…" she felt more than a little stupid for even asking this, really, "even want to?"
"You don't have anything to worry about. I won't take advantage or anything like that," he reassured, blushing furiously as he focused on his food.
"Why would your mom mind?"
"Well, ah… you're pretty, see, and she doesn't really approve of me spending time with any girls that aren't my cousins because they could damn me… especially pretty ones like you." As he finished his sentence he looked up at her again somewhat shyly, licking his lips as his gaze flickered down to hers only briefly before he focused hurriedly on his food again.
"So you're the new girl, huh?" rang out a voice next to them, making Claire's head snap up to look at a whole group of guys, seemingly led by one of them.
"I--"
It was like watching Gabe try very hard to shrink into the seat.
"Gabby, why aren't you sharing? We thought we taught you good manners. And then you go and keep her all to yourself. How'd you hook her, anyway? Pity-party? I mean, you've got her standing up for you, buying you lunch--"
Eyes transfixed on the table, she didn't think he could get any redder if he tried, swallowing audibly just as Claire turned back to the group. "Back off, will you?"
"Back off, huh? And who are you to tell me what to do? Why is Gabby here so precious to you anyway when you could be spending time with someone like me?"
"Leave us alone," she ground out, turning away to reach out to take Gabriel's hand--
"Oh come on baby--"
Instead the hand never reached Gabe as Claire turned just slightly, the back of her hand colliding with his cheek just perfectly to leave a gorgeous red mark there for at least the day.
"I said fuck off," she growled, not bothering to hide what she'd learned over the past seven years.
"You bitch!" rang out from him as he held onto his cheek, eyes wide. "Don't you dare think you can just get away with shit like this."
And then they were off again, and Claire took a deep breath, turning to look at Gabe again, wide-eyed and terror-stricken.
"They're going to murder me," he whimpered softly, and she shook her head.
"No-- no, I won't let them. Ah-- are you okay?" she asked, bringing her hand forward to set it atop his.
Comfort.
His eyes flittered down to look at her hand, visibly tensing as he drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah. Um. Yeah. I'm okay. Thank you. I… I feel sort of pathetic. I should have been able to protect you, right?"
"It's okay," she said, giving him a small smile. "There's plenty of time."
Two and a half days.
***
"I guess that's goodbye for today then," he told her, hands in his pockets as he shuffled his feet somewhat awkwardly.
"What?"
"Well, I, uh-- I have to walk home, see--"
"Is it far from here?"
"About twenty minutes."
"I'll walk with you," she said with a smile, nodding.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
It took them a good twenty-five minutes, actually, but they were walking slowly and having a good time talking. It wasn't like Claire had anything better to do, really.
"I don't think… I mean, I'm not sure--"
"Is your mom home?"
"No, but she will be," he said, awkwardly scratching his head.
"Well, then… I guess… I can stay until she's home, right?"
"If… if you really want to?"
There's more shuffling of the feet, and Claire chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip. "Yeah. I mean, I want to, as long as you feel comfortable with that."
"Uh… yeah. She doesn't actually come home until six or so."
"Maybe tomorrow after school you can come see where I've been escaping off to the last couple of days?" she asks somewhat tentatively as he unlocks the door and holds it open for her. "Thank you."
"I could ask whether I could stay out later. Um. Would you like some tea?" he asked, not even bothering to set things down and sit and wait for the awkward to settle.
"Um. Sure!" she said, sitting when he beckoned her into a seat, moving about to put the kettle on the stove while he prepared the cups.
"Honey?"
"Yes, please."
"You know," he said very slowly as the water came to a boil, "I'll have to lie to her tomorrow about being out with you. And say you're a guy, or something. I wonder whether she'll believe me. I don't really have any friends."
Claire frowned, taking a deep breath as she considered what he just told her, shaking her head somewhat sadly at the thought.
"I'm really sorry, Gabriel."
He was silent for a moment or so before turning to face her again, two steaming mugs in his hand as he shakes his head. "Don't be. I have you, now."
For two days.
"And I can tell my mom that your name is Clark Butler and that you're new… really, the only thing she doesn't have to know is the fact that you're a girl. That's not so bad."
It sounded very much like he was more so trying to convince himself of the fact.
"Or I can, you know, not mention gender at all."
"My name."
"Oh. Right."
He blushed slightly, smiling at her.
"The tea is very good, thank you. What kind is it?"
"Darjeeling. And… anyway, I think I would be very happy to see your escape-place tomorrow."
The smile he offered her was priceless.
***
"You really don't have to walk me back to school."
"I'd just feel better knowing you would be okay."
"It's not so far," she reassured him, but he shook his head.
"I have enough time, and just in case, I left mom a note. I can run back. It won't be so bad. It's fine, really."
"Well… I appreciate it."
They walked in silence for a little bit until the school came up on the horizon again, a good indicator that their journey was coming towards a steady end.
"I could walk you fur--"
"No, really. It's fine. You can just let me go in front of the school. I don't want you to see where we're going tomorrow yet," she told him, smiling brightly.
"Oh, all right." He paused, staring down at his feet as they kept walking. "I had a really great time today."
"It's no problem at all," she reassured, bumping against him lightly as they walked.
"I'm sorry about lunch today. I wish they hadn't come and ruined things."
"Not so bad. And it definitely wasn't your fault. I won't let it happen again. Next time I'll just slap that guy--"
"--Johnny--"
"--precipitately. It'll be great."
"If you say so," he said, just as their walk came to an end, both of them coming to stand underneath the streetlight in front of the school.
"I guess this is goodbye then for real this time," he said, staring at his shoes.
"Gabriel, look--"
She didn't bother to try to understand it herself, and if Peter had asked her just then what had driven her to do it, she couldn’t have told him. Could never have explained that she'd done it because maybe she liked him and not because this was all part of the greater plan, a lie she kept reassuring herself of.
A really, really stupid lie, she realized, even as he moved to look at her, Claire taking a step forward, standing on the tips of her toes as she leaned in to take his face in her hands--
--and kissed him, making his eyes go wide, startling him completely.
One, two, three, four, five, six-- Claire counted until he finally relaxed in the wake of her hands, tentative fingers grasping at her hips as he let himself give in to the kiss, still innocent.
She wasn't about to change that, gently pulling back after just a moment or so to look at him, both of them still wrapped in a half-embrace of sorts.
"I guess it's a really, really good thing that I left a note."
"You should probably head home," she agreed a little sadly, worrying her lower lip.
"My mom is going to kill me," he laughed a little awkwardly, giving her a weak smile. "I… she always used to say that when the right girl came along I'd just… know. I never thought that would happen, but-- she was right. Thank you. I mean… really. Thank you. I can't tell you how much all this means to me," he said very softly, giving her another weak smile, looking very much like he was almost tempted to lean in to kiss her again but didn't know in the least what to do or whether it was even okay to do so.
"No need to thank me," she told him almost sadly, standing on her toes again to give him a soft peck. "Just… hurry home. I'll see you tomorrow. I promise."
He nodded for a moment before letting her go, running back down the path they'd come from.
Claire sighed.
Two days.
***
When Claire returned to the tree house, swiftly climbing up on somewhat shaky legs, she came across a whole slew of food waiting for her next to the air mattress.
"Is anyone…" she asked a bit uncertainly into the open air.
Nothing.
Still, food there. Granted, it wasn't like she wasn't hungry-- she was starving, actually-- so she didn't bother questioning the miracle any longer.
Some miracle.
Either Peter had found that someone was living here in spite of her uncle's reassurance, or--
"Peter," she growled darkly, making a face as she speared the ravioli onto her fork, stuffing it into her mouth almost bitterly.
***
It wasn't like there wasn't plenty of room in the tree house-- plenty enough for him to spend his time there, sleep there, even if it was on the wood floor, or even-- on the mattress when she wasn't there.
That bastard.
So much for disappearing-- of course he could have teleported back to the future, but turning invisible was just as easy for him, and she'd never know the difference. Overprotective bastard.
She'd show him.
But that, she realized as she climbed down the steps of the tree house, making the walk up to the school, hardly resolved what had happened last night between Gabriel and her. Being his friend-- showing him that not every human being in the world was out to get him-- was one thing. Providing a romantic attachment, however…
She'd been done mourning over West long ago. What on earth was her goal in doing that?
The only mildly rational argument behind it all was that she actually liked him. That somewhere in her overprotective ways, her pity for him and what had happened to him had kept her from rationally approaching this in the same way she had planned.
It was time to… fix things.
Or at least make them work with this new change of plans.
Sighing, she entered the busy High School halls, not even bothering to stop before she reached Gabriel's locker.
"Hey you," she said, leaning against the lockers next to his open one.
"Oh!" he jumped slightly, jerking as he looked up at her with a lopsided smile, flushing furiously. "I didn't think you'd come today, I--"
"Of course," she said, smiling. "How'd things go with your mom last night?"
"She wasn't home when I got there, I got really lucky. And I told her I'd be out tonight for a while. I mean… she seemed a bit reluctant, but--"
The words left her mouth faster than she could stop to even think about them. "Think she'll let you spend the night?"
Gabriel froze, eyes wide, blushing furiously, suddenly straightening-- hitting his head on the top of his locker-- and stood, awkwardly rubbing the spot in the back of his head. "I… uh, that is… um…"
"You don't have to if you don't want to," she rushed to reassure him, color steadily rising to her cheeks.
"No--" he said, shaking his head, his hand shooting out to grasp onto hers, "I mean… I want to. I just-- I've never--"
"It's fine. I haven't either," she lied, sheepishly staring at he ground.
It was an easy thing to lie about-- she could only expect to pass as eighteen at best and-- just like West and her had discovered relatively quickly, her hymen regenerated with her every time.
It's a good thing you get over pain so quickly.
"Oh, um… that's… ah, you want… why me?" he stammered, expression more than confused.
"Because… you're sweet. And genuine. And… because for some reason that I can't even expect myself to understand… it feels right."
"Um," he said, nervously worrying his bottom lip as he stared at his shoes. "Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I'll go home for a bit after school and get some things and leave a note for my mom. I don't… if she ever found out, she'd kill me. But I don't think I care anymore. You're… you're right. It does feel right somehow."
It broke her heart to know that she only had one and a half days left here with him.
For the briefest moment, she considered not leaving at all. Considered telling Peter to just go back to the future while she stayed here.
It lasted until she remembered their purpose in the future-- what they had to do. What they needed her help with, guilt gripping onto her heart like an icy fist.
"Then it's a date."
One and a half days.
***
"Listen," he said, shuffling his feet more than a little awkwardly as he stood before the school with her. "I hadn't even thought of it until the announcement for it came on today during lunch… but, um. Prom's tomorrow night. I wasn't going to go at all-- I haven't been to any of the school dances. But, ah… if you wanted to go…"
"I'd love to," she said quickly, her smile bright and sudden and unexpected. "It's from nine until midnight, right?"
"Yeah."
"I think… yeah. That'd work great," she said, nodding hurriedly.
"Thank you. Um… I've wanted to…"
"Whatever it is, do it."
"… all day…"
But he didn't finish his stuttering, tentatively leaning down to gently cup her face in his hands, soft lips kissing hers before she could say anything at all.
This time he was more insistent, lips parting, his tongue pleading for entrance she readily granted him, her own arms moving to pull him closer.
A promise-- a reminder for what was to come later that night.
Claire whimpered for just a moment before breaking the kiss, her eyes searching his face.
She couldn't see it. Couldn't see how this wonderful creature could turn into such a monster.
"I'll see you tonight," she whispered, and he nodded, a sheepish smile of sorts on his face for just a moment before he turned away again, leaving her to return to the tree house.
***
"Goddammit, Peter," she muttered, setting the dishes down again. He really needed to stop pampering her like this.
No answer. Of course not.
Well-- if he really was staying here, watching her…
He'd be in for quite a treat tonight.
Chances had it, he deserved it.
***
They'd agreed to meet in front of the school at nine, and she got there ten minutes early, finding him already waiting.
"You're early."
"So are you."
She smiled at that, reaching out to take his hand.
They walked back to the tree house in silence for a while-- it was only a five-minute walk, if that, and Claire just let the peace and happiness of the moment wash over her, afraid to let it go.
She had to hold onto every minute as if it would be the last.
Maybe-- maybe that's why she was doing this. All of it.
"Here it is," she said as they turned the corner, the tree house coming into sight.
"You-- I-- all this… you did all this for me?" he stammered, eyes wide.
"It's no big deal," she said, moving to climb up the stairs, looking behind her to see if he followed.
"It is too a big deal."
"I know it's not much--" she started, sitting on the air mattress when they both reached the top, but he cut her off, leaning forward on his knees, one hand on either side of her thighs as he kissed her.
It was, perhaps, the most forward thing he'd done, ever, but Claire wasn't about to complain, moving to acquiesce the action just a bit further, parting her legs to allow him to kneel between.
He tilted his head just slightly, parting his lips again to allow his tongue to slip past her lips, hands still unmoving at her sides, too scared to go any further than deepening their kiss.
She didn't even know why she was so nervous, she thought absently to herself as trembling fingers moved to slip up his sweater vest so she might tug his button-down out of his pleated pants.
"Claire--" he breathed into her mouth, hardly making a move to stop kissing her.
That was enough incentive for her, and she kept her work up in tugging at his shirt until she felt bare skin under her hands, making him tense just slightly.
Cue enough for deft fingers to for the hem of her shirt, breaking the kiss only momentarily-- and even then, a little regretfully-- to pull her shirt over her head.
"Here, pull your sweater vest--"
She helped just barely as his shaky fingers did their best to tug off his clothes, flushing furiously at the sight of her nearly bare chest.
"Claire, you're… I've never…" he stammered, soft fingers running over her front, playing at the edge of her bra.
"I know," she said, her own hand moving to cover his, guiding him a little higher until she could hear his breath catch in his throat. "It's okay," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again, taking the moment to undo her jeans, pushing them down, cuing him on to follow suit.
One moment she was scrambling to get out of her jeans, the next her socks were off, too, and they were both clad in only their underwear, Claire lying back on the mattress with Gabriel kneeling over her, out of breath and heady with the promise of what was inevitably coming next.
"We don't have to," she reassured, but he just shook his head, bringing trembling fingers around her back to unclasp her bra, slipping it free of her body and putting it with the rest of their clothes, his eyes raking up and down her body, breathing low and almost controlled--
It was as if he was trying very hard not to stare.
"You're gorgeous," he whispered softly, straining to keep his eyes on her face.
"It's okay. Really," she laughed lightly, leaning up to kiss him again, taking one of his hands and placing it against her bare breast, eliciting a soft unexpected gasp from her.
Prompt enough for him to slip his other hand down her side, helping her out of her panties, shimmying them down her legs steadily while his other hand kept its attention on her breast.
Claire took the moment to ease his own boxers down his hips, letting his straining erection jump free of the offending fabric.
The second she wrapped trembling fingers around his length, he bucked forward, eyes rolling back at the feeling.
"Claire--"
"Just--"
"Condoms," he said, eyes suddenly snapping open again. "I don't… I've never--"
"It's okay. We're both clean, and I'm on birth control. Don't worry about it."
That was all he needed to hear, and he bit his lip, concentrating hard as he tried to ease himself inside of her, her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips to help.
When he felt resistance, Gabriel stopped, lightly resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. "It's going to hurt," he whispered.
I'm used to pain, she thought absently, feeling a twinge of regret at not being able to share her-- or even his secret with him.
"I'll be fine," she whispered, and braced herself.
The pain wasn't so bad-- it was almost something she was used to by now, though it had been quite a few years since she'd done this, feeling him push all the way inside, making her cry out as she clenched around him.
"Claire-- Claire--" he gasped out, waiting for one, two, three, four beats until she shimmied underneath him a bit, making him finally start moving, shallow thrusts, the heels of her feet digging into his back as she urged him deeper, harder, faster--
A whimper bubbled forth from low in her throat, a noise he must have mistaken for pain, making him take the moment to kiss her again as he kept up the steady pace.
"Gabriel-- please--" she gasped, arching against him just as he somehow changed the angle, causing him to suddenly hit her g-spot with every thrust.
It wasn't normal for her to come during a first time-- but she couldn't hold this in, she realized absently, whimpering softly in the wake of his constant repetition of her name-- too pure to say the lord's name in vain, too pure to swear, instead uttering her namesake like it was one befit for a goddess, in rhythm with every perfect thrust as Claire delighted in the little noises marking his loss of control.
"Gabriel, oh god-- Gabriel--" she gasped out, fingernails digging into his shoulders, just moments before she came, sudden and unexpected, making her cry out his name, clenching around him--
Enough to send him over the edge, the pressure, the feeling of her around him making him shudder with one last prayer to her, before the world came to a stop, converging in the one moment where she felt him pulsing inside of her.
"I think I'm in love with you," he whispered against the nape of her neck, making her squeeze her eyes shut, tears steadily slipping down the side of her temples and into her hair.
"I'm nothing special," she whispered softly, barely able to keep her voice from cracking.
It made him look up at her, shaking his head. "You're crying. Don't cry," he whispered, kissing the corners of her eyes in an attempt to kiss her tears away. "You're wonderful. You're the first gir-- the first person who's treated me with a shred of decency, ignoring my parents. You're very special."
"Don't say that… it's not healthy. What if something were to happen to me? What then?"
"You can't talk like that-- Claire, please don't say things like that, I don't know what I'd do if you were suddenly torn away from me. I don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go, either."
"See?" he asked, eyes doleful as he gave her a weak smile, "that's that then."
"Think we might fall asleep like this," she asked softly, making him smile against her cheek as he pulled the blanket out from under them, pulling it over them both as he cradled her lithe body closer, ignoring the fact that his feet were sticking out at one end completely.
One day.
***
When Claire woke up the next morning, much later than she'd intended, she found herself alone in bed, just a note lying on top of her clothes.
Figured I would keep the damage to a minimum and slip in before my mom would wake up and make her think I just came home late. Wish I could have stayed longer, though. I wish I would have never had to lea Watching you sleep was I love you!
See you tonight!
She couldn't help but smile in spite of the intensely penitent feeling in her chest.
Half a day.
***
After having a quick breakfast, Claire grabbed the money she'd taken with her for no good reason and headed into New York, hailing a cab to Times Square, intending on looking around until she found a fitting dress for herself.
It took far longer than she'd intended, and then she had to find matching shoes, hair products, and makeup.
It culminated in her being ready just barely on time, making it with just five minutes to spare to their meeting spot underneath the streetlight in front of the school.
"You look--"
"Thank you. So do you," she said a little sheepishly, blushing furiously.
"I… I didn't have time to get a corsage, and I didn't know what color your dress would be, and I wouldn't even have known how to reach you to check… so I decided to get you this instead," he said, handing her what looked like a jewelry box.
Inside was a gorgeous golden watch.
"Um. My dad owns a watch repair shop, see. And he wants me to take over someday. And… I made it myself. I mean, it's the first one he let me put together by myself. I'm getting really good at it. It's just a talent, I guess. But… I thought it would maybe be a sweet idea--"
Before he could finish the sentence, Claire jumped forward to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.
"I guess you like it?" he stammered when she finally pulled away again.
"I love it, thank you," she said, offering her wrist to him to let him place it on before they both headed inside.
The halls were empty, but by comparison, the gym was just buzzing with excited activity, students dancing here and there, some of them congregating around the buffet tables, covered in fruits and sweets and a chocolate fountain, still others just sitting on the sidelines, no one to dance with.
Not Gabriel.
Not tonight.
And yet-- even while they danced, completely forgetting themselves and the rest of the world-- Claire couldn't stop her gaze flittering to her new watch on occasion, an act Gabriel must have thought of as pride and admiration and happiness over her new gift, but that more so marked her own dread of what had to come to play at midnight.
Her very own Cinderella story.
Not enough time, she thought absently to herself as she saw that she had only half an hour left to enjoy with him.
"I have to go soon," she whispered softly against his cheek, her arms around his neck, unwilling to let go.
"Why? Can't I… can't I take you home tonight? I want my mom to meet you."
"I wish," she whispered softly, shaking her head. "I can't. I have to-- I have to be back by midnight."
"Think you can come over tomorrow, then?"
Claire bit her lip, feeling an odd wave of nausea overcome her. "I--"
Except that she never got to finish her sentence when someone pushed both of them, making Claire trip over Gabriel's feet as she fell to the floor.
"I think," a low, obnoxious voice growled as he grabbed onto her wrist hard enough to bruise, "I told you that this wouldn't be over. Your fault for showing up here, bitch. I think I deserve a dance."
"Leave her alone," she heard Gabriel speak out, angry eyes turned away from her.
"What are you going to do about it?" he laughed, missing what Claire didn't--
As she watched his left hand ball into a fist behind him, she felt a strange foreboding sense of-- ineffable-- overcome her.
"I said, leave her alone."
"I think," he said slowly, tugging on her wrist making her cry out, "I want to dance."
Claire closed her eyes just in time to miss the collision, the sickening crack that came out of Gabriel's fist meeting his face--
Opening her eyes just in time to see him fall, her wrist released as people suddenly rushed to crowd around the fallen boy as Gabriel tugged her to her feet again.
"Are you all right?"
Claire absently looked at her wrist, skin previously covered in bruises now perfect and pale, seemingly unmarred.
"I… fine."
It was a shame-faced lie, and she knew it. Nothing was fine-- the expression in his eyes had been the most terrifying she'd ever seen, a ready reminder to her of the man who tried to kill her at Homecoming.
If Claire herself was responsible--
"I have to go," she muttered, worrying her lower lip for a moment, avoiding his eyes as she glanced at her new watch again.
"Don't go-- please, I--"
But Claire was already off running in the direction of the exit.
He didn't catch up with her to grab hold of her arm until they were under the streetlight again, out of breath and looking more than panicked.
"But-- tomorrow--"
"I need you to promise me something," she said, suddenly turning to face him, expression completely serious. "I need you to promise to meet me at the tree house. Um. Today. In… fourteen years. 2012. Midnight."
"I-- you mean-- I won't see you until--"
The look in his eyes was nothing short of terrified, gripping her heart in a death-like vice grip as he clung to her arm with a fierce desperation, afraid to let her go.
"Just-- trust me. Please."
He looked completely lost, and Claire considered not going through with the plan after all, but then she just leaned up to kiss him, taking the moment to forget herself or the plan entirely, and when she pulled away again--
She had to.
Five minutes.
Wordlessly, Claire handed him a slip of paper before disappearing into the night.
Ineffable.
***
I'm really sorry.
April 25, 2012
***
Claire didn't cry. Didn't even bother to say anything as Peter watched her grab her things-- not bothering to ask about her choice of dress-- before bringing them both back to the future.
April 25, 2012 was, incidentally, a Wednesday. The coming Wednesday, as Peter insisted she come back as if she'd never left.
She didn't cry, but even Peter knew something was wrong when she didn't leave her quarters until that Wednesday."
"My father is dead," she said very slowly, getting a careful nod from a very confused-looking Mohinder.
"West, too."
"Yes. Claire, is… is everything all right?"
"We'll see," she said, disappearing into her room again to go change.
***
She had no idea what on earth possessed her to leave the facility. She hadn't left since they'd gone underground, hadn't seen the light of day until she'd returned to 1998.
That time felt miles away by now, too much tearing at the apron-strings of her life to keep her connected somehow. And yet--
She found herself walking down the now-familiar path from the streetlight-- where Peter had, more than reluctantly teleported her to before disappearing again, telling her something along the lines of how he would not be held responsible for anything happening to her-- heart hammering in her chest, legs more than shaky.
This was a terrifying thought. Both terrifying and ludicrous, as she had no idea if he would even show up, and, if he did, if he wouldn't kill her on the spot.
When she turned the corner and saw him already standing there, she had to fight with herself not to turn around and run. And yet she kept walking until--
"You're early."
"So are you." Claire took a deep breath, slowing as she neared the tree.
"Didn't think you'd actually show up."
"I can say the same for you."
"You broke my heart."
"I broke my own heart. You don't need to punish me for what I did-- knowing what I did--"
"Oh, but I already have."
"You mean, by--"
"After I figured out that it was actually you, I had to get rid of--" he halted, training his gaze on the ground. "You were going to marry West, the witless wonder with wings. I wasn't about to let that happen. Not before--"
"But my dad--"
"Was to get your goddamn attention. I figured out after a while that something was going to have to happen to make you go back. I'm almost glad that you were too ignorant to realize, in spite of everyone's urging, that it's not possible to change the past. You were playing right into fate's plans. Otherwise you would have left your dear uncle and everyone else in a really fucked up alternate reality. Life doesn't work that way."
"What do you want?" she asked after a moment of thinking, realizing that she had no idea what he was looking into garnering from this experience.
"After you left, I alienated myself from the world completely. I was miserable. I started working in my dad's shop as soon as he left-- it wasn't like my mother and I weren't expecting it. It had been a long time coming. But-- without you, I knew I'd surrendered any control over my life. I had no idea how to get that back, and when Chandra Suresh--"
Claire knew this part of the story.
"At one point I started thinking that maybe you'd come back to me if only I made enough of a name for myself, if I became infamous in the public eye. That you'd recognize me. If only I was special enough-- until I realized that I'd been chasing you already. That you had no idea-- not yet, at least."
He took a deep breath, shuffling his feet, making her thank that, in spite of how very much he did not look like the eighteen-year-old boy she'd met just days prior, Gabriel was still somehow in there.
"After a while I realized I just had to bide my time and be patient. And now, here I am."
"But--"
"Why are you here, Claire?"
"I had a promise to keep, I--"
"Is that it? Nothing you want to tell me? You didn't want to see me?" He was quiet for a moment, and then--
"You never told me you loved me."
"I--"
"Do you?"
Claire was quiet for a moment, staring at her feet, a nervous hand running through her head.
"Yes," she said finally, her voice small before she looked up to meet his gaze.
"So why are you here?"
Claire bit her lip, eyes dropping again.
"Okay, let's start differently. Let's start with why I'm here, yeah? Why am I here, Claire? I'm here because I've spent the last fourteen years doing little else but think of you. I'm here because I'm in love with you and want to be with you. I want to--" he was snapping; his voice cracked as he got louder, "I want to marry you and be happy for once in my life after you robbed me of every chance of it being possible after the three best days of my life. I want to-- want to have kids with you-- Claire--"
She wasn't seeing Sylar, she was seeing Gabriel, older and stronger but every bit the wonderful man she'd met fourteen years ago, and when Claire took a slow step forward--
She almost knew to expect it when he stepped forward to cup her face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her.
It was a battle this time, and nothing short of it as his tongue warred with hers, taking charge, pushing her up against the tree.
"You haven't changed a bit," he whispered softly into her mouth, hands slipping up her thighs as he pulled them up to wrap around his waist.
"You have," she replied, not bothering to stall the inevitable, one hand moving to slip between their bodies, undoing the zipper of his pants.
"I worked on that," he murmured into the skin of her neck, moving his mouth steadily down until he was placing soft kisses upon her clavicle.
"Adam."
"Yes. I couldn't very well expect you to settle for someone mortal, someone-- who would break your heart."
It stung, and her hand stilled for a moment. "I didn't mean to. I didn't… want to."
"I know," he said quietly, and in the next moment she felt her clothes shredded to pieces, his pants pooling around his ankles.
No boxers.
"You were planning on this happening," she whispered softly, gasping when she felt him press up against her.
"And you weren't?"
She didn't bother gracing it with an answer, just reaching her hand between their bodies to urge him closer.
"We do this, and you're mine," he warned, growling softly.
"I didn't know I wasn't already."
"Damn straight."
And then he pushed in, breaking her barrier-- again, making her cry out-- hardly careful this time as he started up at a heady pace from the start, making her moan out loud.
"Gabriel--"
"It's Sylar now, actually."
"I don't care."
"Good."
He was more experienced this time-- she wasn't sure she wanted to know why-- reaching between their bodies to rub icy fingers against her clit, making her arch against him, more than aware of how rough the bark of the tree felt up against her back.
"I wasn't your first back then," he growled, low in his throat.
"I never said you were. But you don't seem like--"
"It's my ability," he ground out, more insistent still when he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, hard. "I know how things work. Even you and your precious, perfect little body. I haven't so much as touched another woman except for to kill her since I've had you," he whispered in her ear, breath hot against her skin, making her shiver all the way down her spine.
She shouldn't have felt such intense pride at the fact, but she couldn't help it, and when he switched his rhythm, fingers suddenly alternating between chilling and pressing hot against her clit, she cried out, trying her hardest to restrain her cries, feeling her orgasm wash over her, clenching around him and drawing his own out of him just moments after.
"Fuck, Claire," he swore, just holding her there for a moment, both of them out of breath, hearts racing.
"Your vocabulary has changed quite a bit since we've last talked."
"Yes, well…"
Softly, Claire turned her head to kiss him on the cheek, smiling against the stubble she found there.
"I do, you know."
"Yes. I know."
"You weren't so sure over the last fourteen years."
"I had to see you-- find out for myself. You have to understand that."
"I do."
There was a pause, and then he kissed her properly, pulling her away from the tree and cradling her close as he stepped out of his pants.
"And where do we go on from here?"
"First, I have a surprise for you. And then… we go back to your place."
"I'm naked. You completely annihilated my clothes," she pointed out rather sensibly.
"We're not walking. We're teleporting straight into your quarters."
"But you can't--"
"Actually, I can. Shows just how much I stayed out of your hair all these years, how much damage I could have done had I really wanted to. Although I won't deny sometimes having come into your room at night just to watch you sleep."
"I…"
"Don't say anything," he said plainly, smiling at her for a moment before setting her down on the ground. "Up you go." He gestured towards the steps leading up to the tree house.
She didn't argue, moving to climb the stairs, not bothering to think too hard about the kind of view he had to be getting in all of this.
It wasn't until she reached the top that she gasped, eyes going wide.
A mattress-- a real one, covered in satin sheets-- candles surrounding it, framing it brilliantly.
Claire gave one last push and then she was up complete, slipping onto the makeshift bed.
"You really were planning on this happening," she said just a little absently as she looked around in awe at his handiwork.
"Not exactly. Hoping-- yes. Do you like my little trip down memory lane?"
"I love it," she said, leaning forward to kiss him.
He was faster than her, though, on the bed in just two beats, cradling her body close to his as he pulled her in for another kiss.
"Ready to go again?" she asked, eyes wide as he pulled his shirt off and tugged the blanket up over them.
"What? Give me a break, woman. It's called a refractory period. As much as I'd like to be, I'm still not god." He chuckled softly, running his fingers over her skin until he reached her wrist, tugging it out from under the covers. "You're still wearing it."
"You really thought I'd take it off?"
"Did you know… it's a Sylar watch, too?" he asked, smiling into her hair.
"I love you," she said softly, grinning over at him.
"I know."
Author: freetheelves2
Artist-to-be: _odella_
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Gabriel/Claire
Word Count: 10,266
Warnings: none
Summary: Sylaire with a distinct Back to the Future twist. Claire thinks she can prevent Sylar from becoming Sylar by going back in time. She doesn't expect to fall in love with him, though, let alone turn out to be the catalyst that turned him into the monster in the first place.
Author's Notes: No art yet, posted now because of the sylaire_awards nominations, for the Gabriel/Claire category. Art will follow as soon as _odella_ finds the time! :3
Seven years.
Seven years since this curse of an ability had taken her and her life over.
A lot had happened in those years.
Claire had become a stronger, if not bitterer person. Her father had finally agreed that this was not the life for Lyle and her mother to lead, letting them live a normal life as they moved on.
It took a catalyst, however-- the Company threatening to breed super-specials. Like Peter, except that they could pick and choose abilities as they deemed fit.
Like crafting together an army of Sylars.
Sylar himself, of course, had remained independent throughout the whole ordeal. As soon as he'd gotten his powers back around the same time as Nathan's shooting, he'd taken to the darkness and spent most of his time acquiring new abilities, whenever it was safe.
He didn't pick and choose a side, just attempted to stay alive.
Adam Monroe came a long way to help him with that, and because he wasn't the first or the last, even the great immortal ended up just a statistic.
Nathan died after the shooting, too soon for Peter to understand or come to terms. He was left haunted and grieving until Claire told him that Nathan would have never wanted it like that.
After that, they decided to come together.
A general uproar of agreement followed, echoing around the world. It was the specials against the Company, an epic battle that would last longer than anyone could have expected.
The problem was in the misconception. The war had started in 1962, if not sooner, living longer in the hearts and minds of its founders.
There was no difference between then and now-- people still fell on both sides, much like they had before. The only difference was on their side--
The fact that they were working together now, stronger in groups.
The Underground was established, its founding members Peter, Hiro Nakamura, Claire herself, and her father.
When the verdict was kill or be killed, even Claire learned to murder.
Learned, even, to expect it.
After Mohinder Suresh and Matt Parkman joined their higher ranks, as well as the occasional non-special like Ando Masahashi, even West decided to join them.
Two weeks after working with them, he proposed to Claire, and she accepted.
They had people working under them, of course, a league of specials and their supporters. Much like a morally white version of the Hellfire Club, they battled the system and the organization so hell-bent on destroying them, molding them, shaping them into their own drones.
After the abandoned warehouse they were staying in was attacked, Peter proposed they actually move underground.
It wasn't difficult. With a whole cast of characters, each one's ability more unique and useful than the next, the quickly had fashioned themselves a whole underground labyrinth of operations.
Guerilla warfare at its finest, right underneath the streets of New York.
While the heads of the Underground had already placed themselves permanently amongst the workings underneath the city-- with a whole section branching off to several small individual living quarters-- more and more of the specials in their group wished for that same sort of protection, until the entire network turned into an underground city in and of itself.
Chronologically, Claire was nineteen. Physically, fifteen forever.
Her eyes reflected, however, someone much closer to the age of forty-seven, and it was with that sort of mature grace that she carried herself through the halls of the underground facility.
Peter met a very nice normal girl in support of their kind named Gina, and when he asked her to move into his quarters with him, Claire finally gave in and let West share her place with her as well.
The wedding was scheduled for June, even though no one was in a particularly cheerful mood about it, as they perhaps should have been.
It wasn't even like time really passed for them where they were.
While Claire never dared leave the comfort and security the underground facility offered, others were not so cautious, and in May, Sylar got to West, effectively killing him.
She spent a day in her room, not letting anyone else in, and returned to her post to keep working promptly the next morning, not a sign on her face of the prior days' events, surprising everyone.
After West, Claire did not dare let anyone else in.
The key was to bring down the Company from the inside. The fact that they had spies within enemy walls made her fear for their own facility's security.
When Claire turned twenty-two, looking not a day older than she had any of the previous seven years, she did not celebrate; did not so much as do anything differently than she would have any other day.
That year, however, proved itself to be vastly different from any other.
She would have thought to herself in retrospect that perhaps she should have known differently by then-- should understand that both sides suffered in a war like theirs, and that unless you picked and choose a side, the verdict would be every man for himself.
Survive or perish.
Kill or be killed.
She'd just never thought it would be someone like Sylar who would end up getting to her father. Save for West, he hadn't even been a bother these last seven years. The only thing he'd done was murder the occasional special not protected by the Company or the Underground, a fault on their part, before going back into hiding, keeping to the shadows.
"He would be an invaluable asset to the Underground," she'd told Peter that day, who had shook his head.
"That's playing games with your luck, letting him in."
"If we don't, the he'll become the Company's new addition, and then we're in serious trouble. With his help, they'd actually be able to figure out how to make super-specials, tweaking the DNA left and right--"
"He would never work for them," he'd told her rather tersely, and that had been that. "He would never work for anyone but himself."
When they carried her father's body back into the facility that rainy April day, soaked to the core, Claire had an idea.
"Hiro," she said very slowly, tasting his name on her tongue before swallowing, straightening a bit. "Think I can have a word?"
"Always," he replied, and turned from the screen before him to face her, pushing his glasses up. "What is it?"
"I have… a thought. An idea. I think it would be very helpful for the Underground, I--"
Clearing her throat, she licked her lips and met his gaze, not wanting to appear in any way weak in her standing behind the idea. "I don't want to go into too much detail, but I would like for you to drop me off in 1998."
"…why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he cocked his head.
"In New York. April. I-- I think I can change something. Keep… horrible things from happening."
"I will not mess with the past. Things happen for a reason, Claire," he said rather morosely, turning away from her, face grim, almost-- regretful.
"Please--"
"No. You can't change the past, no matter how much you want. I learned that a long time ago."
It took her ten minutes to find Peter.
"You haven't cried."
"Don't worry about it."
"Claire, your father died and you haven't shed a single tear. Something is wrong and don't think you are going to get away with--"
"I don't expect to," she snapped back, frowning.
"Listen," she started, closing her eyes. "I need your help. You're probably going to say no, but--"
"What is it."
"April, 1998. I want to go there. New York. Just drop me off and give me a couple of days, that's all I ask."
"Claire, messing with the past--"
"I just got a lecture from Hiro, you don't have to repeat what he said," she replied brusquely, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively.
"I won't do it. You're trying to change things--"
"What about Nathan?" she suddenly asked, taking a step towards him. "What about Nathan, Peter? If you had the chance to change things, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you rather have your brother here with you? Wouldn't you rather be able to ask him whether he agreed with what you were doing instead of constantly feeling like you need to reassure yourself that Nathan would have wanted this?"
"Claire--"
"No, I'm serious. Don't get condescending; it's not going to work. You know I'm right."
"This isn't easy," he growled, and she shook her head, pushing a forefinger into his chest angrily.
"You damn well know it isn't. And now you're telling me that even though it could be just the tiniest bit easier, you'd rather have it harder. Talk to me again when you decide what the hell you actually want."
She started to pull away just as Peter grabbed hold of her arm, yanking her back around to face him.
"Fine." It was clipped, it was tense, it was definitely reluctant--
It was all she needed.
***
"Do you even have any of this planned out?" he asked, helping her throw the last bit of stuff into her duffel bag from her closet.
"No."
"Where are you staying for these three days?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you sleeping? Eating? Do you have anything, Claire, just so I can be not a complete paranoid idiot about this whole thing and insist I just stay with you?"
"I thought I would play hobo for a while," she joked, throwing him a pointed stare.
"Very funny. Look--" he stopped, running a hand over his face, "why are you even going?"
"I can't tell you that, you'd tell me not to go."
"Claire--"
"No, I'm not telling."
"At least let me drop you off."
"Fine."
"You only get three days."
"Fine."
"Are you ready?"
"Never been readier."
Zipping closed the bag, he held up a full wallet for her to see for a moment before putting that inside the bag as well and handing it to her. "Don't let yourself starve."
"I won't," she reassured, grabbing the bag and nodding.
Just a blink of time where Peter closed his eyes, and the next second--
They were gone.
***
The Petrelli mansion backyard was just a rather memorable place, and when the two of them ended up there once more, Claire instantly recognizing it, she gave Peter a questioning look. "Wha--"
"That tree house over there," he pointed, "is just big enough and warm enough and comfortable enough for you to not end up complaining about me babying you. It used to be mine--" Claire shot him an odd look, eyebrows raised in shock, "because my dad felt guilty for always liking Nathan better, you see, so he thought anything his money could shell out would replace love… so I got this rather extensive tree house. I mean, it'll fit your air mattress and everything and then some."
"I… thank you," she said, furrowing her brow as she looked up at him.
"Personally, I would have preferred, you know, you staying at a hotel, or even an abandoned apartment building or warehouse or something, but I know how you are, and I know that you, given the choice of spending the night sleeping in a high-end hotel or sleeping on a bench, would choose the bench."
"I'm a minimalist," she says, waving her hand to discard the argument.
"Yes, yes, I know. Either way, you can spend the night there-- it's insulated and safe and believe me, at eighteen I would not spend any time out there. So you don't have to worry about that. You have money for food--"
"--that I probably won't use--"
"--that you should use, please, and I'll expect you, ready and packed at the foot of the tree house at midnight sharp in three days. That's… Saturday. Understood?"
"Yes, dad," she said, realizing too late that that still stung. Shaking her head, she turned to hug Peter.
"You can't get in touch with me over this time, so I want you to be careful. Take care of yourself, don't get yourself killed and-- for god's sakes, don't mess with time and events too goddamn much."
With that, he was gone, leaving Claire to set off towards the tree house.
***
He'd been right-- it was definitely big enough for her to place her air mattress on the floor and still have plenty of room. There were even windows, and it was well-insulated, so when Claire realized that the sun was coming up-- that she'd spent the early morning setting things up more or less-- she also realized in turn that she would not be too cold through the night.
Handy, that.
Setting her watch to approximately the correct time and date, she dressed herself in what she assumed to be appropriate school clothes and climbed back out of the tree house to watch discreetly as a young Peter Petrelli left his house.
Seven years of working and living closely with her uncle had led to a whole slew of what she would have previously considered useless information, but was now really coming in handy. Things like yeah, I went to school with him, same year and all, but just… different social groups, you know? So we didn't really talk, and it was close enough that I could walk, anyway had her now walking a few steps behind him, trying her hardest not to seem like a creepy stalker.
Five minutes later, however, that worry dissipated as they reached Lee Kirby High School, the first bell-- fifteen minutes-- sounding out.
Claire quickly set her watch to the right time, and followed Peter inside the halls, leaving him to his own business as she kept walking.
She wasn't here for Peter.
She was here for--
"Hey, watch where you're going, you idiot!"
"I-- sorry, I didn't mean--"
"Of course you didn't Gabby-- it's not your fault you have to wear coke-bottle glasses, right?" the boy mocked, pulling them off the other boy's face.
"Please, I-- give them back, please, I can't see without--"
"You'll have to get them yourself," he laughed, dropping them to the ground as he pushed down the books he was haphazardly holding onto as well.
"I--"
When the second bell sounded, most people scurried off to their respective classes, leaving only the boy, rushing to pick up his things again, and Claire in the hallway.
"You dropped this," she said, handing him his glasses with an apologetic smile.
"Oh-- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to--" he stammered, eyes wide as shaking hands took the glasses out of her hands, carefully slipping them on again.
"I know you didn't. It's okay. What they were doing-- that was awful."
He blinked, once, twice, before looking up to properly take her visage in. "I don't know you," he observed, seemingly shocked at the fact that she hadn't run away, made fun of him, or shattered his glasses completely as of yet.
"Sorry," she said, blushing brightly as her gaze fell to the floor. "I'm Claire. I'm, ah… new here. I don't start going officially until next week, but they're letting me stay for at least… figuring out how things work here. Sorry if I startled you."
It sounded really good, for an on-the-spot lie.
"I-- no, no, you didn't. I guess," he gave a hollow laugh, "you'll figure out pretty quickly that you're not supposed to talk to me. If… if you want to be popular, I guess. And… I mean, you're really pretty, you might actually have a shot."
Claire blushed even brighter, shaking her head as she picked his books up, moving to stand. "Don't say that, that's an awful thing to say. I don't mind talking to you. Really."
He looked for a moment like he wanted very badly to say something, eyes glancing around, almost nervous, before giving up. "I'm probably going to be late to class," he finished lamely, standing and looking rather awkward.
"Here. I can wait outside the classroom for you if you want," she said, handing him his books.
"If-- ah, um. If you really want to see how things work, I don't think my teachers would mind me showing you around and letting you sit next to me. I mean… no one else sits next to me anyway, so it's not like you'll be moving anyone."
Claire bit her lip, trying very hard not to just wrap her arms around the poor boy, tall and awkward and thin and rather pathetic-looking.
…like West, in a way. With a lot less confidence.
Claire's gaze dropped to the floor, and she shuffled her feet nervously, trying to think--
"If-- it's fine. You don't have to. I understand if you don't want to be seen with me--"
"What?" she asked, eyes meeting his again as she shook her head. "No, of course not, I'd love to sit next to you!" she said, eyes lighting up as her heart went out to him.
"Oh, um… ah-- okay," he said rather hurriedly, flushing before he set off down the hall, making sure she was catching up to him as he walked.
It wasn't long before they were both in front of the door to his first class-- geography-- and he held the door open for her.
"Gabriel, you're late," the teacher admonished, and as he started stuttering, Claire interrupted.
"I'm afraid that's my fault. I'm new here; I start next week, and he was just showing me the ropes. I couldn't find my way at all. He's been nothing but kind and helpful to me so far, please-- if you must punish someone for his tardiness, let it be me," she finished, leaving Gabriel looking quite awe-struck as the teacher-- Mr. Black-- nodded.
"Oh good. I'll mark down some extra credit, in that case. Go ahead and have a seat, Ms.--"
"B-butler," she stammered out at the spur of the moment. "Claire Butler."
***
"I really don't know how to thank you enough," he told her as he took a seat opposite her at lunch. "You're like an angel. I don't even know-- you just completely made my day, I can't even explain--"
"I'm not so great," she laughed softly, shaking her head as she watched him take out a brown paper bag from his backpack.
"No, but see, you are, and--"
"What's that?"
"I-- oh, it's, um--" he colored significantly, slumping in his seat slightly as he looked on at the bag a bit pathetically. "My mom packs my lunch for me, I know it's not--"
"Here," she says, grabbing the bag as she gets up, holding up a finger, signaling for him to wait as she throws the brown bag into the trash much to Gabriel's surprise, magically returning five minutes later with two trays of whatever the cafeteria special was.
"I can't believe you," he told her somewhat absently, staring in wonder at the food before him before looking up at her in awe.
"What, don't you like it?" she asked, frowning slightly.
"I-- what? Of course I like it! Thank you so much, I just…" he took a deep breath, his expression almost pained as he regarded her. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"If I don't, no one will," she answered, picking up several fries at once and shoving them into her mouth.
"…oh. Oh, of course. Um. Right. You're-- yeah. That's okay."
Had she said something wrong?"
Claire bit her tongue for a moment, thinking on this.
"It's not just that," she finally said. "I'm not doing this out of obligation, you have to understand that."
"Of course," he said, although the smile he gave her didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I… ha, my mother would probably kill me if she knew I'd spend practically the whole day with you. It's a good thing we haven't touched."
Claire's own smile faltered at that, as she tried to wrap her mind around what he'd just told her. "I… um. You don't…" she felt more than a little stupid for even asking this, really, "even want to?"
"You don't have anything to worry about. I won't take advantage or anything like that," he reassured, blushing furiously as he focused on his food.
"Why would your mom mind?"
"Well, ah… you're pretty, see, and she doesn't really approve of me spending time with any girls that aren't my cousins because they could damn me… especially pretty ones like you." As he finished his sentence he looked up at her again somewhat shyly, licking his lips as his gaze flickered down to hers only briefly before he focused hurriedly on his food again.
"So you're the new girl, huh?" rang out a voice next to them, making Claire's head snap up to look at a whole group of guys, seemingly led by one of them.
"I--"
It was like watching Gabe try very hard to shrink into the seat.
"Gabby, why aren't you sharing? We thought we taught you good manners. And then you go and keep her all to yourself. How'd you hook her, anyway? Pity-party? I mean, you've got her standing up for you, buying you lunch--"
Eyes transfixed on the table, she didn't think he could get any redder if he tried, swallowing audibly just as Claire turned back to the group. "Back off, will you?"
"Back off, huh? And who are you to tell me what to do? Why is Gabby here so precious to you anyway when you could be spending time with someone like me?"
"Leave us alone," she ground out, turning away to reach out to take Gabriel's hand--
"Oh come on baby--"
Instead the hand never reached Gabe as Claire turned just slightly, the back of her hand colliding with his cheek just perfectly to leave a gorgeous red mark there for at least the day.
"I said fuck off," she growled, not bothering to hide what she'd learned over the past seven years.
"You bitch!" rang out from him as he held onto his cheek, eyes wide. "Don't you dare think you can just get away with shit like this."
And then they were off again, and Claire took a deep breath, turning to look at Gabe again, wide-eyed and terror-stricken.
"They're going to murder me," he whimpered softly, and she shook her head.
"No-- no, I won't let them. Ah-- are you okay?" she asked, bringing her hand forward to set it atop his.
Comfort.
His eyes flittered down to look at her hand, visibly tensing as he drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah. Um. Yeah. I'm okay. Thank you. I… I feel sort of pathetic. I should have been able to protect you, right?"
"It's okay," she said, giving him a small smile. "There's plenty of time."
Two and a half days.
***
"I guess that's goodbye for today then," he told her, hands in his pockets as he shuffled his feet somewhat awkwardly.
"What?"
"Well, I, uh-- I have to walk home, see--"
"Is it far from here?"
"About twenty minutes."
"I'll walk with you," she said with a smile, nodding.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
It took them a good twenty-five minutes, actually, but they were walking slowly and having a good time talking. It wasn't like Claire had anything better to do, really.
"I don't think… I mean, I'm not sure--"
"Is your mom home?"
"No, but she will be," he said, awkwardly scratching his head.
"Well, then… I guess… I can stay until she's home, right?"
"If… if you really want to?"
There's more shuffling of the feet, and Claire chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip. "Yeah. I mean, I want to, as long as you feel comfortable with that."
"Uh… yeah. She doesn't actually come home until six or so."
"Maybe tomorrow after school you can come see where I've been escaping off to the last couple of days?" she asks somewhat tentatively as he unlocks the door and holds it open for her. "Thank you."
"I could ask whether I could stay out later. Um. Would you like some tea?" he asked, not even bothering to set things down and sit and wait for the awkward to settle.
"Um. Sure!" she said, sitting when he beckoned her into a seat, moving about to put the kettle on the stove while he prepared the cups.
"Honey?"
"Yes, please."
"You know," he said very slowly as the water came to a boil, "I'll have to lie to her tomorrow about being out with you. And say you're a guy, or something. I wonder whether she'll believe me. I don't really have any friends."
Claire frowned, taking a deep breath as she considered what he just told her, shaking her head somewhat sadly at the thought.
"I'm really sorry, Gabriel."
He was silent for a moment or so before turning to face her again, two steaming mugs in his hand as he shakes his head. "Don't be. I have you, now."
For two days.
"And I can tell my mom that your name is Clark Butler and that you're new… really, the only thing she doesn't have to know is the fact that you're a girl. That's not so bad."
It sounded very much like he was more so trying to convince himself of the fact.
"Or I can, you know, not mention gender at all."
"My name."
"Oh. Right."
He blushed slightly, smiling at her.
"The tea is very good, thank you. What kind is it?"
"Darjeeling. And… anyway, I think I would be very happy to see your escape-place tomorrow."
The smile he offered her was priceless.
***
"You really don't have to walk me back to school."
"I'd just feel better knowing you would be okay."
"It's not so far," she reassured him, but he shook his head.
"I have enough time, and just in case, I left mom a note. I can run back. It won't be so bad. It's fine, really."
"Well… I appreciate it."
They walked in silence for a little bit until the school came up on the horizon again, a good indicator that their journey was coming towards a steady end.
"I could walk you fur--"
"No, really. It's fine. You can just let me go in front of the school. I don't want you to see where we're going tomorrow yet," she told him, smiling brightly.
"Oh, all right." He paused, staring down at his feet as they kept walking. "I had a really great time today."
"It's no problem at all," she reassured, bumping against him lightly as they walked.
"I'm sorry about lunch today. I wish they hadn't come and ruined things."
"Not so bad. And it definitely wasn't your fault. I won't let it happen again. Next time I'll just slap that guy--"
"--Johnny--"
"--precipitately. It'll be great."
"If you say so," he said, just as their walk came to an end, both of them coming to stand underneath the streetlight in front of the school.
"I guess this is goodbye then for real this time," he said, staring at his shoes.
"Gabriel, look--"
She didn't bother to try to understand it herself, and if Peter had asked her just then what had driven her to do it, she couldn’t have told him. Could never have explained that she'd done it because maybe she liked him and not because this was all part of the greater plan, a lie she kept reassuring herself of.
A really, really stupid lie, she realized, even as he moved to look at her, Claire taking a step forward, standing on the tips of her toes as she leaned in to take his face in her hands--
--and kissed him, making his eyes go wide, startling him completely.
One, two, three, four, five, six-- Claire counted until he finally relaxed in the wake of her hands, tentative fingers grasping at her hips as he let himself give in to the kiss, still innocent.
She wasn't about to change that, gently pulling back after just a moment or so to look at him, both of them still wrapped in a half-embrace of sorts.
"I guess it's a really, really good thing that I left a note."
"You should probably head home," she agreed a little sadly, worrying her lower lip.
"My mom is going to kill me," he laughed a little awkwardly, giving her a weak smile. "I… she always used to say that when the right girl came along I'd just… know. I never thought that would happen, but-- she was right. Thank you. I mean… really. Thank you. I can't tell you how much all this means to me," he said very softly, giving her another weak smile, looking very much like he was almost tempted to lean in to kiss her again but didn't know in the least what to do or whether it was even okay to do so.
"No need to thank me," she told him almost sadly, standing on her toes again to give him a soft peck. "Just… hurry home. I'll see you tomorrow. I promise."
He nodded for a moment before letting her go, running back down the path they'd come from.
Claire sighed.
Two days.
***
When Claire returned to the tree house, swiftly climbing up on somewhat shaky legs, she came across a whole slew of food waiting for her next to the air mattress.
"Is anyone…" she asked a bit uncertainly into the open air.
Nothing.
Still, food there. Granted, it wasn't like she wasn't hungry-- she was starving, actually-- so she didn't bother questioning the miracle any longer.
Some miracle.
Either Peter had found that someone was living here in spite of her uncle's reassurance, or--
"Peter," she growled darkly, making a face as she speared the ravioli onto her fork, stuffing it into her mouth almost bitterly.
***
It wasn't like there wasn't plenty of room in the tree house-- plenty enough for him to spend his time there, sleep there, even if it was on the wood floor, or even-- on the mattress when she wasn't there.
That bastard.
So much for disappearing-- of course he could have teleported back to the future, but turning invisible was just as easy for him, and she'd never know the difference. Overprotective bastard.
She'd show him.
But that, she realized as she climbed down the steps of the tree house, making the walk up to the school, hardly resolved what had happened last night between Gabriel and her. Being his friend-- showing him that not every human being in the world was out to get him-- was one thing. Providing a romantic attachment, however…
She'd been done mourning over West long ago. What on earth was her goal in doing that?
The only mildly rational argument behind it all was that she actually liked him. That somewhere in her overprotective ways, her pity for him and what had happened to him had kept her from rationally approaching this in the same way she had planned.
It was time to… fix things.
Or at least make them work with this new change of plans.
Sighing, she entered the busy High School halls, not even bothering to stop before she reached Gabriel's locker.
"Hey you," she said, leaning against the lockers next to his open one.
"Oh!" he jumped slightly, jerking as he looked up at her with a lopsided smile, flushing furiously. "I didn't think you'd come today, I--"
"Of course," she said, smiling. "How'd things go with your mom last night?"
"She wasn't home when I got there, I got really lucky. And I told her I'd be out tonight for a while. I mean… she seemed a bit reluctant, but--"
The words left her mouth faster than she could stop to even think about them. "Think she'll let you spend the night?"
Gabriel froze, eyes wide, blushing furiously, suddenly straightening-- hitting his head on the top of his locker-- and stood, awkwardly rubbing the spot in the back of his head. "I… uh, that is… um…"
"You don't have to if you don't want to," she rushed to reassure him, color steadily rising to her cheeks.
"No--" he said, shaking his head, his hand shooting out to grasp onto hers, "I mean… I want to. I just-- I've never--"
"It's fine. I haven't either," she lied, sheepishly staring at he ground.
It was an easy thing to lie about-- she could only expect to pass as eighteen at best and-- just like West and her had discovered relatively quickly, her hymen regenerated with her every time.
It's a good thing you get over pain so quickly.
"Oh, um… that's… ah, you want… why me?" he stammered, expression more than confused.
"Because… you're sweet. And genuine. And… because for some reason that I can't even expect myself to understand… it feels right."
"Um," he said, nervously worrying his bottom lip as he stared at his shoes. "Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I'll go home for a bit after school and get some things and leave a note for my mom. I don't… if she ever found out, she'd kill me. But I don't think I care anymore. You're… you're right. It does feel right somehow."
It broke her heart to know that she only had one and a half days left here with him.
For the briefest moment, she considered not leaving at all. Considered telling Peter to just go back to the future while she stayed here.
It lasted until she remembered their purpose in the future-- what they had to do. What they needed her help with, guilt gripping onto her heart like an icy fist.
"Then it's a date."
One and a half days.
***
"Listen," he said, shuffling his feet more than a little awkwardly as he stood before the school with her. "I hadn't even thought of it until the announcement for it came on today during lunch… but, um. Prom's tomorrow night. I wasn't going to go at all-- I haven't been to any of the school dances. But, ah… if you wanted to go…"
"I'd love to," she said quickly, her smile bright and sudden and unexpected. "It's from nine until midnight, right?"
"Yeah."
"I think… yeah. That'd work great," she said, nodding hurriedly.
"Thank you. Um… I've wanted to…"
"Whatever it is, do it."
"… all day…"
But he didn't finish his stuttering, tentatively leaning down to gently cup her face in his hands, soft lips kissing hers before she could say anything at all.
This time he was more insistent, lips parting, his tongue pleading for entrance she readily granted him, her own arms moving to pull him closer.
A promise-- a reminder for what was to come later that night.
Claire whimpered for just a moment before breaking the kiss, her eyes searching his face.
She couldn't see it. Couldn't see how this wonderful creature could turn into such a monster.
"I'll see you tonight," she whispered, and he nodded, a sheepish smile of sorts on his face for just a moment before he turned away again, leaving her to return to the tree house.
***
"Goddammit, Peter," she muttered, setting the dishes down again. He really needed to stop pampering her like this.
No answer. Of course not.
Well-- if he really was staying here, watching her…
He'd be in for quite a treat tonight.
Chances had it, he deserved it.
***
They'd agreed to meet in front of the school at nine, and she got there ten minutes early, finding him already waiting.
"You're early."
"So are you."
She smiled at that, reaching out to take his hand.
They walked back to the tree house in silence for a while-- it was only a five-minute walk, if that, and Claire just let the peace and happiness of the moment wash over her, afraid to let it go.
She had to hold onto every minute as if it would be the last.
Maybe-- maybe that's why she was doing this. All of it.
"Here it is," she said as they turned the corner, the tree house coming into sight.
"You-- I-- all this… you did all this for me?" he stammered, eyes wide.
"It's no big deal," she said, moving to climb up the stairs, looking behind her to see if he followed.
"It is too a big deal."
"I know it's not much--" she started, sitting on the air mattress when they both reached the top, but he cut her off, leaning forward on his knees, one hand on either side of her thighs as he kissed her.
It was, perhaps, the most forward thing he'd done, ever, but Claire wasn't about to complain, moving to acquiesce the action just a bit further, parting her legs to allow him to kneel between.
He tilted his head just slightly, parting his lips again to allow his tongue to slip past her lips, hands still unmoving at her sides, too scared to go any further than deepening their kiss.
She didn't even know why she was so nervous, she thought absently to herself as trembling fingers moved to slip up his sweater vest so she might tug his button-down out of his pleated pants.
"Claire--" he breathed into her mouth, hardly making a move to stop kissing her.
That was enough incentive for her, and she kept her work up in tugging at his shirt until she felt bare skin under her hands, making him tense just slightly.
Cue enough for deft fingers to for the hem of her shirt, breaking the kiss only momentarily-- and even then, a little regretfully-- to pull her shirt over her head.
"Here, pull your sweater vest--"
She helped just barely as his shaky fingers did their best to tug off his clothes, flushing furiously at the sight of her nearly bare chest.
"Claire, you're… I've never…" he stammered, soft fingers running over her front, playing at the edge of her bra.
"I know," she said, her own hand moving to cover his, guiding him a little higher until she could hear his breath catch in his throat. "It's okay," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again, taking the moment to undo her jeans, pushing them down, cuing him on to follow suit.
One moment she was scrambling to get out of her jeans, the next her socks were off, too, and they were both clad in only their underwear, Claire lying back on the mattress with Gabriel kneeling over her, out of breath and heady with the promise of what was inevitably coming next.
"We don't have to," she reassured, but he just shook his head, bringing trembling fingers around her back to unclasp her bra, slipping it free of her body and putting it with the rest of their clothes, his eyes raking up and down her body, breathing low and almost controlled--
It was as if he was trying very hard not to stare.
"You're gorgeous," he whispered softly, straining to keep his eyes on her face.
"It's okay. Really," she laughed lightly, leaning up to kiss him again, taking one of his hands and placing it against her bare breast, eliciting a soft unexpected gasp from her.
Prompt enough for him to slip his other hand down her side, helping her out of her panties, shimmying them down her legs steadily while his other hand kept its attention on her breast.
Claire took the moment to ease his own boxers down his hips, letting his straining erection jump free of the offending fabric.
The second she wrapped trembling fingers around his length, he bucked forward, eyes rolling back at the feeling.
"Claire--"
"Just--"
"Condoms," he said, eyes suddenly snapping open again. "I don't… I've never--"
"It's okay. We're both clean, and I'm on birth control. Don't worry about it."
That was all he needed to hear, and he bit his lip, concentrating hard as he tried to ease himself inside of her, her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips to help.
When he felt resistance, Gabriel stopped, lightly resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. "It's going to hurt," he whispered.
I'm used to pain, she thought absently, feeling a twinge of regret at not being able to share her-- or even his secret with him.
"I'll be fine," she whispered, and braced herself.
The pain wasn't so bad-- it was almost something she was used to by now, though it had been quite a few years since she'd done this, feeling him push all the way inside, making her cry out as she clenched around him.
"Claire-- Claire--" he gasped out, waiting for one, two, three, four beats until she shimmied underneath him a bit, making him finally start moving, shallow thrusts, the heels of her feet digging into his back as she urged him deeper, harder, faster--
A whimper bubbled forth from low in her throat, a noise he must have mistaken for pain, making him take the moment to kiss her again as he kept up the steady pace.
"Gabriel-- please--" she gasped, arching against him just as he somehow changed the angle, causing him to suddenly hit her g-spot with every thrust.
It wasn't normal for her to come during a first time-- but she couldn't hold this in, she realized absently, whimpering softly in the wake of his constant repetition of her name-- too pure to say the lord's name in vain, too pure to swear, instead uttering her namesake like it was one befit for a goddess, in rhythm with every perfect thrust as Claire delighted in the little noises marking his loss of control.
"Gabriel, oh god-- Gabriel--" she gasped out, fingernails digging into his shoulders, just moments before she came, sudden and unexpected, making her cry out his name, clenching around him--
Enough to send him over the edge, the pressure, the feeling of her around him making him shudder with one last prayer to her, before the world came to a stop, converging in the one moment where she felt him pulsing inside of her.
"I think I'm in love with you," he whispered against the nape of her neck, making her squeeze her eyes shut, tears steadily slipping down the side of her temples and into her hair.
"I'm nothing special," she whispered softly, barely able to keep her voice from cracking.
It made him look up at her, shaking his head. "You're crying. Don't cry," he whispered, kissing the corners of her eyes in an attempt to kiss her tears away. "You're wonderful. You're the first gir-- the first person who's treated me with a shred of decency, ignoring my parents. You're very special."
"Don't say that… it's not healthy. What if something were to happen to me? What then?"
"You can't talk like that-- Claire, please don't say things like that, I don't know what I'd do if you were suddenly torn away from me. I don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go, either."
"See?" he asked, eyes doleful as he gave her a weak smile, "that's that then."
"Think we might fall asleep like this," she asked softly, making him smile against her cheek as he pulled the blanket out from under them, pulling it over them both as he cradled her lithe body closer, ignoring the fact that his feet were sticking out at one end completely.
One day.
***
When Claire woke up the next morning, much later than she'd intended, she found herself alone in bed, just a note lying on top of her clothes.
Figured I would keep the damage to a minimum and slip in before my mom would wake up and make her think I just came home late. Wish I could have stayed longer, though. I wish I would have never had to lea Watching you sleep was I love you!
See you tonight!
She couldn't help but smile in spite of the intensely penitent feeling in her chest.
Half a day.
***
After having a quick breakfast, Claire grabbed the money she'd taken with her for no good reason and headed into New York, hailing a cab to Times Square, intending on looking around until she found a fitting dress for herself.
It took far longer than she'd intended, and then she had to find matching shoes, hair products, and makeup.
It culminated in her being ready just barely on time, making it with just five minutes to spare to their meeting spot underneath the streetlight in front of the school.
"You look--"
"Thank you. So do you," she said a little sheepishly, blushing furiously.
"I… I didn't have time to get a corsage, and I didn't know what color your dress would be, and I wouldn't even have known how to reach you to check… so I decided to get you this instead," he said, handing her what looked like a jewelry box.
Inside was a gorgeous golden watch.
"Um. My dad owns a watch repair shop, see. And he wants me to take over someday. And… I made it myself. I mean, it's the first one he let me put together by myself. I'm getting really good at it. It's just a talent, I guess. But… I thought it would maybe be a sweet idea--"
Before he could finish the sentence, Claire jumped forward to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.
"I guess you like it?" he stammered when she finally pulled away again.
"I love it, thank you," she said, offering her wrist to him to let him place it on before they both headed inside.
The halls were empty, but by comparison, the gym was just buzzing with excited activity, students dancing here and there, some of them congregating around the buffet tables, covered in fruits and sweets and a chocolate fountain, still others just sitting on the sidelines, no one to dance with.
Not Gabriel.
Not tonight.
And yet-- even while they danced, completely forgetting themselves and the rest of the world-- Claire couldn't stop her gaze flittering to her new watch on occasion, an act Gabriel must have thought of as pride and admiration and happiness over her new gift, but that more so marked her own dread of what had to come to play at midnight.
Her very own Cinderella story.
Not enough time, she thought absently to herself as she saw that she had only half an hour left to enjoy with him.
"I have to go soon," she whispered softly against his cheek, her arms around his neck, unwilling to let go.
"Why? Can't I… can't I take you home tonight? I want my mom to meet you."
"I wish," she whispered softly, shaking her head. "I can't. I have to-- I have to be back by midnight."
"Think you can come over tomorrow, then?"
Claire bit her lip, feeling an odd wave of nausea overcome her. "I--"
Except that she never got to finish her sentence when someone pushed both of them, making Claire trip over Gabriel's feet as she fell to the floor.
"I think," a low, obnoxious voice growled as he grabbed onto her wrist hard enough to bruise, "I told you that this wouldn't be over. Your fault for showing up here, bitch. I think I deserve a dance."
"Leave her alone," she heard Gabriel speak out, angry eyes turned away from her.
"What are you going to do about it?" he laughed, missing what Claire didn't--
As she watched his left hand ball into a fist behind him, she felt a strange foreboding sense of-- ineffable-- overcome her.
"I said, leave her alone."
"I think," he said slowly, tugging on her wrist making her cry out, "I want to dance."
Claire closed her eyes just in time to miss the collision, the sickening crack that came out of Gabriel's fist meeting his face--
Opening her eyes just in time to see him fall, her wrist released as people suddenly rushed to crowd around the fallen boy as Gabriel tugged her to her feet again.
"Are you all right?"
Claire absently looked at her wrist, skin previously covered in bruises now perfect and pale, seemingly unmarred.
"I… fine."
It was a shame-faced lie, and she knew it. Nothing was fine-- the expression in his eyes had been the most terrifying she'd ever seen, a ready reminder to her of the man who tried to kill her at Homecoming.
If Claire herself was responsible--
"I have to go," she muttered, worrying her lower lip for a moment, avoiding his eyes as she glanced at her new watch again.
"Don't go-- please, I--"
But Claire was already off running in the direction of the exit.
He didn't catch up with her to grab hold of her arm until they were under the streetlight again, out of breath and looking more than panicked.
"But-- tomorrow--"
"I need you to promise me something," she said, suddenly turning to face him, expression completely serious. "I need you to promise to meet me at the tree house. Um. Today. In… fourteen years. 2012. Midnight."
"I-- you mean-- I won't see you until--"
The look in his eyes was nothing short of terrified, gripping her heart in a death-like vice grip as he clung to her arm with a fierce desperation, afraid to let her go.
"Just-- trust me. Please."
He looked completely lost, and Claire considered not going through with the plan after all, but then she just leaned up to kiss him, taking the moment to forget herself or the plan entirely, and when she pulled away again--
She had to.
Five minutes.
Wordlessly, Claire handed him a slip of paper before disappearing into the night.
Ineffable.
***
I'm really sorry.
April 25, 2012
***
Claire didn't cry. Didn't even bother to say anything as Peter watched her grab her things-- not bothering to ask about her choice of dress-- before bringing them both back to the future.
April 25, 2012 was, incidentally, a Wednesday. The coming Wednesday, as Peter insisted she come back as if she'd never left.
She didn't cry, but even Peter knew something was wrong when she didn't leave her quarters until that Wednesday."
"My father is dead," she said very slowly, getting a careful nod from a very confused-looking Mohinder.
"West, too."
"Yes. Claire, is… is everything all right?"
"We'll see," she said, disappearing into her room again to go change.
***
She had no idea what on earth possessed her to leave the facility. She hadn't left since they'd gone underground, hadn't seen the light of day until she'd returned to 1998.
That time felt miles away by now, too much tearing at the apron-strings of her life to keep her connected somehow. And yet--
She found herself walking down the now-familiar path from the streetlight-- where Peter had, more than reluctantly teleported her to before disappearing again, telling her something along the lines of how he would not be held responsible for anything happening to her-- heart hammering in her chest, legs more than shaky.
This was a terrifying thought. Both terrifying and ludicrous, as she had no idea if he would even show up, and, if he did, if he wouldn't kill her on the spot.
When she turned the corner and saw him already standing there, she had to fight with herself not to turn around and run. And yet she kept walking until--
"You're early."
"So are you." Claire took a deep breath, slowing as she neared the tree.
"Didn't think you'd actually show up."
"I can say the same for you."
"You broke my heart."
"I broke my own heart. You don't need to punish me for what I did-- knowing what I did--"
"Oh, but I already have."
"You mean, by--"
"After I figured out that it was actually you, I had to get rid of--" he halted, training his gaze on the ground. "You were going to marry West, the witless wonder with wings. I wasn't about to let that happen. Not before--"
"But my dad--"
"Was to get your goddamn attention. I figured out after a while that something was going to have to happen to make you go back. I'm almost glad that you were too ignorant to realize, in spite of everyone's urging, that it's not possible to change the past. You were playing right into fate's plans. Otherwise you would have left your dear uncle and everyone else in a really fucked up alternate reality. Life doesn't work that way."
"What do you want?" she asked after a moment of thinking, realizing that she had no idea what he was looking into garnering from this experience.
"After you left, I alienated myself from the world completely. I was miserable. I started working in my dad's shop as soon as he left-- it wasn't like my mother and I weren't expecting it. It had been a long time coming. But-- without you, I knew I'd surrendered any control over my life. I had no idea how to get that back, and when Chandra Suresh--"
Claire knew this part of the story.
"At one point I started thinking that maybe you'd come back to me if only I made enough of a name for myself, if I became infamous in the public eye. That you'd recognize me. If only I was special enough-- until I realized that I'd been chasing you already. That you had no idea-- not yet, at least."
He took a deep breath, shuffling his feet, making her thank that, in spite of how very much he did not look like the eighteen-year-old boy she'd met just days prior, Gabriel was still somehow in there.
"After a while I realized I just had to bide my time and be patient. And now, here I am."
"But--"
"Why are you here, Claire?"
"I had a promise to keep, I--"
"Is that it? Nothing you want to tell me? You didn't want to see me?" He was quiet for a moment, and then--
"You never told me you loved me."
"I--"
"Do you?"
Claire was quiet for a moment, staring at her feet, a nervous hand running through her head.
"Yes," she said finally, her voice small before she looked up to meet his gaze.
"So why are you here?"
Claire bit her lip, eyes dropping again.
"Okay, let's start differently. Let's start with why I'm here, yeah? Why am I here, Claire? I'm here because I've spent the last fourteen years doing little else but think of you. I'm here because I'm in love with you and want to be with you. I want to--" he was snapping; his voice cracked as he got louder, "I want to marry you and be happy for once in my life after you robbed me of every chance of it being possible after the three best days of my life. I want to-- want to have kids with you-- Claire--"
She wasn't seeing Sylar, she was seeing Gabriel, older and stronger but every bit the wonderful man she'd met fourteen years ago, and when Claire took a slow step forward--
She almost knew to expect it when he stepped forward to cup her face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her.
It was a battle this time, and nothing short of it as his tongue warred with hers, taking charge, pushing her up against the tree.
"You haven't changed a bit," he whispered softly into her mouth, hands slipping up her thighs as he pulled them up to wrap around his waist.
"You have," she replied, not bothering to stall the inevitable, one hand moving to slip between their bodies, undoing the zipper of his pants.
"I worked on that," he murmured into the skin of her neck, moving his mouth steadily down until he was placing soft kisses upon her clavicle.
"Adam."
"Yes. I couldn't very well expect you to settle for someone mortal, someone-- who would break your heart."
It stung, and her hand stilled for a moment. "I didn't mean to. I didn't… want to."
"I know," he said quietly, and in the next moment she felt her clothes shredded to pieces, his pants pooling around his ankles.
No boxers.
"You were planning on this happening," she whispered softly, gasping when she felt him press up against her.
"And you weren't?"
She didn't bother gracing it with an answer, just reaching her hand between their bodies to urge him closer.
"We do this, and you're mine," he warned, growling softly.
"I didn't know I wasn't already."
"Damn straight."
And then he pushed in, breaking her barrier-- again, making her cry out-- hardly careful this time as he started up at a heady pace from the start, making her moan out loud.
"Gabriel--"
"It's Sylar now, actually."
"I don't care."
"Good."
He was more experienced this time-- she wasn't sure she wanted to know why-- reaching between their bodies to rub icy fingers against her clit, making her arch against him, more than aware of how rough the bark of the tree felt up against her back.
"I wasn't your first back then," he growled, low in his throat.
"I never said you were. But you don't seem like--"
"It's my ability," he ground out, more insistent still when he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, hard. "I know how things work. Even you and your precious, perfect little body. I haven't so much as touched another woman except for to kill her since I've had you," he whispered in her ear, breath hot against her skin, making her shiver all the way down her spine.
She shouldn't have felt such intense pride at the fact, but she couldn't help it, and when he switched his rhythm, fingers suddenly alternating between chilling and pressing hot against her clit, she cried out, trying her hardest to restrain her cries, feeling her orgasm wash over her, clenching around him and drawing his own out of him just moments after.
"Fuck, Claire," he swore, just holding her there for a moment, both of them out of breath, hearts racing.
"Your vocabulary has changed quite a bit since we've last talked."
"Yes, well…"
Softly, Claire turned her head to kiss him on the cheek, smiling against the stubble she found there.
"I do, you know."
"Yes. I know."
"You weren't so sure over the last fourteen years."
"I had to see you-- find out for myself. You have to understand that."
"I do."
There was a pause, and then he kissed her properly, pulling her away from the tree and cradling her close as he stepped out of his pants.
"And where do we go on from here?"
"First, I have a surprise for you. And then… we go back to your place."
"I'm naked. You completely annihilated my clothes," she pointed out rather sensibly.
"We're not walking. We're teleporting straight into your quarters."
"But you can't--"
"Actually, I can. Shows just how much I stayed out of your hair all these years, how much damage I could have done had I really wanted to. Although I won't deny sometimes having come into your room at night just to watch you sleep."
"I…"
"Don't say anything," he said plainly, smiling at her for a moment before setting her down on the ground. "Up you go." He gestured towards the steps leading up to the tree house.
She didn't argue, moving to climb the stairs, not bothering to think too hard about the kind of view he had to be getting in all of this.
It wasn't until she reached the top that she gasped, eyes going wide.
A mattress-- a real one, covered in satin sheets-- candles surrounding it, framing it brilliantly.
Claire gave one last push and then she was up complete, slipping onto the makeshift bed.
"You really were planning on this happening," she said just a little absently as she looked around in awe at his handiwork.
"Not exactly. Hoping-- yes. Do you like my little trip down memory lane?"
"I love it," she said, leaning forward to kiss him.
He was faster than her, though, on the bed in just two beats, cradling her body close to his as he pulled her in for another kiss.
"Ready to go again?" she asked, eyes wide as he pulled his shirt off and tugged the blanket up over them.
"What? Give me a break, woman. It's called a refractory period. As much as I'd like to be, I'm still not god." He chuckled softly, running his fingers over her skin until he reached her wrist, tugging it out from under the covers. "You're still wearing it."
"You really thought I'd take it off?"
"Did you know… it's a Sylar watch, too?" he asked, smiling into her hair.
"I love you," she said softly, grinning over at him.
"I know."