Claire doodled on the edge of her notebook while the math teacher droned on. She stopped, though, after she realized that she had written 'Sylar' more than once in the margins.

She'd been on edge, uneasy, ever since Nathan's funeral. Peter still worried her, but it seemed like he would be okay if he were given enough time. Claire knew he spent most of his free time in the air, but she figured it was his way of staying connected to his older brother. As if all this weren't enough, Claire felt, uncomfortably, as though someone were following her. She knew it was paranoid, but it had gotten bad enough that she went straight to her room after classes. And speaking of which, math was over. She grabbed her bag and left the lecture hall in the crush of students eager to get out.

He was out there. Sylar lurked at the edges of her thoughts, sneaking in when her mind was unoccupied. He was the reason she felt watched, hunted. He was the reason she didn't like being out after dark. It was stupid, she knew, since he wasn't limited to the nocturnal hours. Claire snorted. If only her monster were as harmless—as imaginary—as a vampire.

"I will not let him control my life," she muttered to herself.

"Excuse me," called a voice from behind her. "You dropped this." Claire turned to see a young man holding her math notebook. Barely taller than she was, he was painfully thin and acne-scarred.

"Thanks," she said reluctantly, taking the notebook from him. "Are you in my class?"

He nodded rapidly. "Yeah. I'm Gabe."

A nasty shiver crawled up her spine and Claire looked at him sharply. "Gabe as in Gabriel?"

His expression changed slightly. "No. Dave, as in David."

"Oh." Claire blushed slightly at her own obsessiveness. "Sorry. I must not have heard you correctly. Thanks again for returning my notes."

Dave grinned at her. "Not like they'll help you much. I don't think 'Sylar' is going to be on the test next week."

"You read my notebook?" Disbelief colored her voice, and the boy shook his head.

"No—well, yes, but it had fallen open. I wasn't, like, going through it or anything. Promise." His eagerness was almost pathetic, and Claire felt embarrassed again by her suspicion.

"It's fine," she sighed.

"Well, hey, do you live on campus?" he asked. If he'd been a dog, his tail would have been wagging.

"Uh…yes."

"Do you mind if I walk you to your dorm?" Claire gritted her teeth, but what was she supposed to say? No thanks, I don't want you to know where I live, since I'm worried about a psycho serial killer coming for me? That sounded like a really weak excuse, and he'd think she was just being rude.

"Sure."

Dave chatted nonstop all the way to her building, talking about math and psychology and how wasn't it funny, it looked like their schedules were almost identical. Claire almost breathed a sigh of relief when she told him this was it.

"So this Sylar," he said curiously. "Friend of yours?" He waggled his eyebrows, insinuating that there might something more than friendship.

"More of an acquaintance," she said, trying to evade.

"Well, Claire," Dave said, laying his hand on her arm knowingly, "People don't generally write the names of their acquaintances on notepads. Just a thought."

With that, he waved goodbye and turned away. Claire shivered and walked up the stairs to her room. She lay down on the bed before realizing that she had stuffed her math notebook into her backpack at the end of class. There was no way she could have dropped it. She clamped a hand down over her mouth to suffocate the tiny scream that threatened to well up.

Sylar chuckled as he floated back the sidewalk below Claire's window. Playing with her was fun. He thought as he walked away that he could do this all semester.

A/N: Just a little one-shot inspired by the events of "Let it Bleed." Enjoy!

-- Chuck