The quiet *click* of the doorknob turning echoed in his ears as he placed a piece of lettuce on the turkey sandwich he was making himself.

He looked over his shoulder at the wall separating him from the noise, listening intently to what was going on in the next room. Sylar flexed his hands, readying himself for an attack, and walked into the living room, expecting a team of agents to burst through the door, but instead was greeted by a small blonde girl trying to slip through the small crack in the door she made for herself to sneak in through.


She looked up quickly, startled to see him standing there in the middle of his living room so non-chalantly. A smug grin grew on his lips.

"How nice of you to visit. Please, come in."

Sylar twitched his fingers and the door flew open. Claire stood there, tense, against the door frame. She stared at Sylar, breathing heavy, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Really, Claire, come in, sit down. I was wondering when you'd finally show up."

Slowly, Claire started to walk toward the couch.

"You want something to drink? Tea, coffee…water?"

She hesitated.


"Alright, suit yourself. You're sure you don't want anything? Why don't you sit down, Claire."

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

He smiled.

"Fine. Why are you here Claire?"

"I need your help."

Sylar laughed.

"Oh, this is interesting. Little Claire needs my help-"

"Listen, Sylar, it's about the company…kind of."

"Are you in some sort of trouble with the company?...Am I in some sort of trouble with the company?"

"Well…You know what my father and Angela have been up to-"

"So, what, you've come to warn me?"

"No. I-" Claire looked to the left and up, trying not to cry. She bit her lip and sighed. "There was this boy…" A sense of reluctance coated each word.

Sylar raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yea." She rolled her eyes and laughed half-heartedly to keep from crying. "My dad has always kind of gotten in the way of my relationships. I mean, it's not like I've had many, but-" She paused, contemplating. "First there was Zach-" She looked up at Sylar. "Got his memory erased." Sylar nodded knowingly. "Even so, he was probably gay." She laughed. "Then there was West…but I was dealing with my dad's death, so that didn't work out. And then there was the guy who could breathe underwater-" Sylar's ears perked. "-who I helped run away because of the agents both my dads were working with. I haven't had much luck with guys."

He smiled. "Well, at least you don't kill them."

He thought she would laugh at his attempt at self-deprecating humor, but she just stared at him. "Unless…you do."

Claire's nose flared and her eyes became glassy with tears.

"I really thought things were going to be different this time. I really…" She took a sharp breath in. "I really loved him." Two tears rolled down her cheeks. "I-" Her breaths became shaky. "Things were going so well, my dad said he wouldn't, he wasn't going to interfere, he'd let me have something normal." She shut her eyes and started to cry, hard. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Sylar didn't know what to do. Claire stood there behind the couch, sobbing, and all Sylar could do was stand by the window, awkward, stiff, unaware of how to act in this sort of situation. He knew she had been through so much, thanks, in part, to him, and he knew she didn't deserve it. He started to walk toward, cautiously, but she seemed to be completely unaware. When he got close enough, he stopped, unsure of what to do next.

He started to reach out, then dropped his hand, and she just kept crying. He couldn't not console.

Screw it.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and she jumped a little, startled by his sudden closeness. In a normal circumstance, she would kick, scream, punch, but instead she just grabbed him and buried her face in his chest, squeezing as hard as she could. Sylar's eyes bugged out. He hadn't expected this. Was she…hugging him? His eyes shifted around the room and settled on the blonde mess clinging to him, still shaking from the sobs, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her. It was a good minute before she let go, wiping her eyes and apologizing.

"I'm sorry." Claire looked straight ahead and groaned. "And I'm sorry about your shirt." Sylar looked down and saw the wet stains on his blue button down.

"Ah, it's no big deal. But…Claire, why did you come here? I know it wasn't so I could play therapist."

Claire took a deep breath and reached into her bag. She slowly pulled out a red t-shirt and held it out to Sylar.

"I took it from his room after the company got him."

Sylar's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.


"Sylar- I need this. I can't- I really need you to do this….Please."

Sylar stared at the shirt. Claire's fingers tightened around the fabric, squeezing so hard her hand started shaking. It was as if she didn't hold it tight enough, it would disappear like its owner had. Sylar scratched his eyebrow.


Sylar looked at Claire. He swallowed hard. He could see the desperation in her face. He saw the pain in her eyes. He took the shirt.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

Sylar sighed. He concentrated and his skin started to bubble and shift and he became more tan, bulkier, his features became more pointed, and flecks of green appeared in his eyes.

Claire's eyes widened and she shivered. There, in front of her, was the boy she loved. Her lip quivered.

"Thank you."