Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or the characters, and I am not making profit with this. This is simply for my own enjoyment.

Rating: Still T (for now)

Well, this chapter took me a while. I'm not completely happy with it, so I may go back and edit it later. The plot starts, more or less, in this chapter. Background info on Claire is done and over! Hope you enjoy! =)

Watching the recorded memories of her and her family, Claire rested her head on her knees, watching the television with a small twinge of sadness twisting in her gut. She missed them. No matter how numb she became, she would always miss them. They had been her only ties to the world - the living, normal world - and now they were gone. She could never have them back. Claire could never hope to see them in heaven. She was stuck here in this place, where she could no longer feel anything strong enough to make her want to stay. This was hell.

Her head lifted off of her knees slightly as she heard a soft rapping at her door. Raising her wrist, she checked her watch and frowned slightly. Who could be at the door at this hour? Was it Jake? Sighing in slight annoyance, Claire slid from the comfort of her chair and paused the movie.

She didn't care that she was in her sleep clothes, or that they showed quite a bit of skin. Jake was a gentleman; he had already proved that to Claire. Padding up to the door, she pulled it open. A bit of surprise lit on her face as her eyes came to rest on a teenage boy in a delivery outfit. She glanced down at the package in his hands, and then back at the boy.

"I didn't know any companies delivered this late," she said, eying him a little suspiciously.

"Well, someone's gotta make the deliveries," the boy responded, shrugging.

Something wasn't right. He didn't even look old enough to drive. Frowning slightly, she looked him over again. Finding nothing wrong with his appearance save a few pimples here and there, she stepped aside and pulled the door open. "Come in, set the package on the kitchen counter there-" she pointed into the kitchen, "and I'll go and get my purse." It wasn't necessary to give tips to delivery men (or boys in this case), but he was a kid, and he was at her house extremely late. Who was making a teenage boy work these long hours? If something was wrong, she'd find out soon enough.

Walking back into her bedroom, she pulled out a ten-dollar bill from her purse. "I'm supposed to sign something, right?" She called, returning to the kitchen. She found him standing next to the kitchen counter - box on top - with a clipboard in his hand.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded politely, holding out a pen to her. He moved a little closer to her to hand her the clipboard, pointing to a line at the bottom. "If you'll just sign here, Miss Bennet, I'll be on my way."

Claire froze, in mid-reach for the pen. Her eyes narrowed, and she backed away from him. "What did you call me?"

The delivery boy frowned a minute, looking like he was thinking, and then clapped his hand over his mouth in melodramatic surprise. "Oops! Looks like I let the cat out of the bag."

Claire's eyes widened as the skin on his face started to bubble. His bones shifted, he grew in height, his hair and eye color changed right before her eyes…

"Sylar!" Claire gasped in surprise. What the hell was he doing here after all these years? She hadn't spoken to him once since he posed as Nathan, trying to get a meeting with the President.

A wide smirk spread across his lips, and he nodded. "Surprise, surprise! I know it's rude to show up like this, and I'm sure you weren't expecting me." Sylar pulled out a bar stool from underneath the counter and sat down, making himself comfortable. "I'll bet you were expecting… Jake."

His eyes swept up to Claire's, his head tilted slightly downward, making his gaze all that more sinister.

"How do you-" Claire stopped in mid-sentence, pursing her lips as the realization dawned on her. "You've been following me."

"I've been keeping tabs on you for a while now – Alessandra, is it? You have a high class job with a paycheck way over the general average, you have designer clothes, you own an extremely nice apartment, and you even have a handsome young photographer pining after you. Well, gosh, you've got it all, don't you?"

Claire didn't respond. She knew he had a point to prove, and he hadn't made it yet.

He leaned forward, resting his head on his knuckles. "But… even with all your possessions and all your money… you just aren't happy." Straightening, he slid from the stool, taking a few steps towards her. "I've seen you watch your home videos for hours every night. I saw you leaving Jake's apartment a bit too soon for the full, allotted romantic evening." Claire tensed as he moved closer, his black-clad body seeming to loom over her, even at a distance.

"You've lost everyone who you've ever been close to. You have no one left." He started to move behind Claire, and she shifted, keeping him in her line of sight. She wanted to make sure she could see him at all times. She had no idea what he would do.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Claire," he said, putting husky emphasis on Claire's real name in a way that made shivers tremor up her spine. "I have a proposition for you." He paused then, for dramatic effect she supposed, and then finished with, "I want you to come live with me."

Claire let out a surprised laugh, and then, studying his face, realized he wasn't joking. "You're serious about this," Claire said slowly. His stiff, un-changing expression was her answer. Shaking her head in response, Claire gave him her response. "No. A million times no. I told you a long time ago that I will never stop hating you, and that hasn't changed."

Sylar shook his head, smiling, Claire's words having no affect on him whatsoever. "Oh, Claire, even after seventy years you're still so much the same. You don't hate me Claire. I know you don't."

"What are you talking about?" she sputtered, "Of course I do!"

"No, you don't," Sylar said, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. Claire backed up as Sylar advanced on her, jumping slightly when she felt the harsh edge of the kitchen counter press into her back. Sylar leaned into her, laying his hands on either side of her on the counter. She could smell him, that musky and dangerous scent, and it was making her nauseous.

"You don't have the ability to hate anymore," Sylar said, his voice low in his throat. "You don't have the ability to feel much of anything nowadays, do you, Claire? You can yell at me, stamp around, and even throw a tantrum like you're as angry at me as you've ever been, but it's all a show." He lifted one of his hands, his fingers trailing lightly through her curls to slide down her cheek. He looked at her with what seemed to Claire to be mock sympathy. "You're just an empty shell of a human, Claire."

His words hit her hard, and she found herself wincing as if she were in pain. He was right, she knew he was, but how could he know? She thought she had been doing a pretty good job of pretending. No one else had noticed – or so she thought, anyway…

"Don't worry Claire, your cover buddies haven't seen behind your mask. But they haven't seen you when you walk through your apartment door. As soon as the door shuts, that mask falls away."

When Sylar brushed his fingers down Claire's arm, she planted her hands firmly against his chest and shoved him away. He disgusted her. "If you think this is going to make me come with you, you're wrong." He needed to leave. He needed to leave now. If she had to call 911 and make a scene to get him to leave, she'd do it.

"Oh, I beg to differ, cheerleader. See… what would you do if I told you that I could reverse that little problem you have?"

Claire froze. Her attention was suddenly focused completely on Sylar, and not on how to get him out of her apartment. "What?" she whispered, staring up at him.

"I can make you feel again… I can fix you, if you come with me."

Claire was surprised that she didn't doubt what he was saying – not one bit. She completely believed he could fix her. She wasn't sure why she hadn't thought about it before. He knew more about the part of her brain that controlled her ability than any doctor, and he was the one who caused the initial numbness to start in the first place. Claire stared at him, a part of her wanting to say yes and leave immediately so she could feel as soon as possible. Another part of her was hesitating, because she knew there was a catch. It wasn't just about her coming with him. There was something else he wasn't saying, and she was worried that something else would be something terrible.

"What else?" Claire asked slowly.

Sylar raised his eyebrows innocently. "Beg pardon?"

"What else does this agreement entail? I know this isn't all of it."

A sly smile spread across his face, and he nodded, leaning calmly back against the wall. "You always were smart, Claire. The "catch" that you're looking for, is that once you come with me, you can't leave. If you leave, I'll find you, and I'll take away your new feelings and emotions. If you want to feel, then you stay with me until I grow bored and decide to throw you out myself."

Claire's stomach lurched unpleasantly, and she felt nauseous again. She wouldn't be allowed to leave? Spending any amounts of time with Sylar was not something she even wanted to think about. Having to spend every day with him for who knows how long would drive her crazy. Who knew what she'd see, what he'd do? He was a sociopath, for Christ sakes!

But… the life she was living now couldn't even be called a life. She wasn't really living. Living life without feelings – without emotions – wasn't really living. She was acting the part, but it wasn't real. Having her feelings back, even if she had to stay with Sylar… it would be better than the empty life she had now, wouldn't it?

"Tick tock, Claire."

Startled out of her thoughts, Claire looked up to see Sylar inches away from her. She jumped back in surprise, almost falling over. His grin in response to her reaction made her want to rip his mouth from his face. "There are a few other rules we'd need to work out, but that's the main one."

"Why do you want me to come with you? Why are you here, now?"

"We're the only ones left from "our generation" of people with abilities, Claire. We've outlived everyone. We're going to live forever, and living forever alone is… not my ideal lifestyle. I want your company, in a manner of speaking. I can give you your feelings back, and in return, you stay with me and fulfill a few simple requests."

There it was. There was the other part of the bargain he'd neglected to mention. "What requests?"

"Oh, I'll think of them when the time comes," he said, brushing past her question with a wave of his hand. "So what'll it be, Claire? Do you want to keep living this pathetic excuse for a life, or will you come with me and get your feelings back?"

Claire already knew the answer. She was just stalling now, and Sylar knew it. Anything was better than this, even living with Sylar. "I'll go."

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Hope you liked it!

~Reiney