Claire couldn't understand. Her hatred for him was unwavering since the first time she heard of his atrocious acts. He only added fuel to the fire the second time he came after her. Then he haunted her. He killed her biological father, stalked her, kissed her, kidnapped Gretchen—sort of. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?! Why did he have to be there, smirking face and all, at Peter's side as Emma walked down the aisle?

She tried hiding her dislike and her grimace every time she looked at him, at least for the day, knowing she was bound to be in quite a few of the pictures. One annoying thought that plastered itself in her head was how he did look pretty good in a suit. She only wished it was his funeral rather than Peter's wedding.

She was ecstatic when Peter announced he had finally asked Emma to marry him. She had been overjoyed when Emma asked her to be the Maid Of Honor; however, when she learned he would be the best man, she almost vomited. She tried understanding that he and Peter had resolved things the twelve hours they were under Matt Parkman's torture. She hadn't forgiven him. In fact, it was part of her daily routine to think of a different way to kill him. After all, they had forever.

Literally. Both of them, due to Claire's natural ability to heal, and his thievery of it, they were both immortal. 'Don't you love how the universe works?' her brain mocked. She almost told herself to shut up before realizing she was starting to sound crazy… talking to herself. Wow.

Even as she watched the ceremony unfold in front of her, she couldn't help but feel the stare that sent chills down her spine amongst the several eyes staring in her direction. She kept her gaze on the happy couple, smiling as to hide her true face. She may have actually cried if she wasn't so…cautious. She refused to call herself paranoid.

It was almost two years since Samuel Sullivan had been arrested. She still remembered the night clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. She remembered climbing the steel frame of the Ferris Wheel, not at all scared for her well-being. She was slightly curious as to why no one had rushed to stop her. She didn't even sneak a glance toward the onlookers as she plummeted, feeling the air whoosh around her, before landing on the ground with a deep thud. She stood up, popped her joints back into place, and brushed herself off. She looked straight into the camera, and simply said, "My name is Claire Bennett, and that was attempt number… Well, I guess I've kinda lost count." It was the annoying yammering that brought her from her daze.

"Miss! You look like you want to say something?" an anchor asked. She looked to her dad, to her friends, and then she shook her head. She had imagined the whole scenario. Sometimes, she wished Hiro would take her back and her jump, just to see the outcome. But she knew he would never agree, so she never asked.

Since then, the rest of the world continued as if she didn't just make a life altering choice. No one else even noticed. Upon returning to school, she realized that she wasn't that in to Gretchen, that she was a good friend and that all she really wanted right now. Apparently, the feeling was kind of mutual. Two weeks later, Gretchen was hanging off of a football player's arm, laughing away with Becky's old entourage. Guess she got over Claire easily enough.

She winced as the glare from a watch caught her in the eyes. Knowing exactly who caused it, she ignored it, stepping slightly to her left, so that he would have to blind the bride to get it to her. She knew he did it on purpose, and she knew he knew, judging by the maddening smirk the erupted on his face. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling he loved to annoy her. She'd rather he just ignore her, like she tried to do to him.

Oh, how she would love to wipe that grin off his face. She hated how the pale pink tie seemed to bring color to his clean shaven face, and how it made his brown eyes turn from their normally blacken state to almost a liquid chocolate. She especially hated that she couldn't go five minutes without glancing into them, and vice versa. She was starting to worry the guests would say something later. She snuck a peak into the crowd of thirty or so people, seeing faces she was familiar with, along with very few she didn't. She quietly sighed a breath of relief when she saw that none of them was looking at anyone but the bride and groom. Thank God. She desperately hoped Matt wasn't being invasive either. Stupid mind-reader.

She almost jumped as an applause burst through the quiet ceremony. She smiled hugely, and clapped along, following Peter and Emma as they walked down the aisle together. She hated that her placement fell exactly with his, so that she was forced to take his arm and smile like she wasn't walking next to the world's most dangerous man.

Technically, she wasn't. Technically, she was standing next to an innocent watchmaker, whose mother had attacked him, and so he had defended himself. Technically, he wasn't Sylar, a maniacal murderer who killed people because they had something he wanted. Technically, Sylar was lost in the chaos of the world. Technically. Just like Noah had technically run a paper company for fifteen years, and Angela had technically never organized the Company. Stupid technicalities.

"Are you alright?" he asked her as they approached the area set up for the pictures.

"Fine," she said as polite as she could muster. Even to her the word spewed from her mouth like venom.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked quietly.

"I've never been any other way with you," she said, mostly telling the truth. "I'm just trying to get through the evening for Peter and Emma. I told them I wouldn't be mean to you, so please don't make me break that promise." She released his arm and quickly made her way to Emma's side.

"What was that about?" Peter asked as they watched the woman primp and pose for the photographer.

"She hates me," he replied somberly.

"She doesn't hate… Okay, so she may hate you. She just doesn't understand. I've tried explaining what happened back then to her, but she thinks you've conned me into saying it. She thinks I'm just trying to convince her you're a good guy. Maybe you should talk to her. Ask her to dance later," he encouraged with a pat on the back. And then he was off to Emma's side.

He couldn't focus. Claire hated him. He had tried apologizing and explaining that he was a changed man, but she wouldn't listen. He even tried atoning for what he had done… Why couldn't people just understand that the five years he and Peter were in his head changed him tremendously? He helped save the world, and it wasn't because he had an ulterior motive. He did it because he really wanted to save New York from Samuel. Why couldn't Claire get that? Peter and Emma did. Hiro, Ando, Mohinder, and Matt eventually did. Hell, even Noah and Angela did. Why couldn't Claire see that he had changed?!

He rushed through the pictures, quickly feeling like the tie was choking him. He couldn't help but remember when he saw the cameras surrounding Claire. He saw a familiar glint in her eyes when one of the cameramen asked if she had something to say. He could practically see her climb the Ferris Wheel and hear Peter ask what she thought she was doing, and that she was going to change everything. He could hear her bones and joints snap and pop into place as she stood and walked to the cameras. He blinked and there she was, hadn't moved. She simply shook her head. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as the look of horror slowly fell from his face. And everyone else's, too.

He tugged his tie loose as he sat at a nearby table. Hiro was going to teleport everyone from their current spot in Central Park to the Petrelli Mansion. It was far, but no one wanted to worry with the hassle of fighting New York rush hour. He laughed, remembering the fuss Hiro had made, saying it was personal gain. Peter eventually convinced him that it wasn't going to be a bad thing, and everyone would be thrilled not to have to take to the streets.

He watched as Claire faked her way through the rest of the pictures, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was ever sincere about anything. 'She hates you. That's sincere,' he thought. 'Or is it?'

Peter called the crowd to them, politely asking Hiro if he would, to transport them to the Manor. Hiro bowed as they connected hands and were whisked away. Almost instantly, they were in the Manor's ballroom. Tables were set up tastefully around the dance floor. Maybe he would listen to Peter and ask Claire to dance. The worse she could do is say no… along with stabbing him in the eye with a spoon.

He sat at a table and raked a hand through his slicked back hair, thankful Peter persuaded him to cut it. It was still shaggy, hanging in his face a little, but not enough to reach the hollows of his cheeks.

"Hey, man," Matt said as he walked over to him. "You doing okay?"

"Hey, Parkman," he said, shaking his friend's hand. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. I'm fine." He felt something pushing into his head, and he just rolled his eyes. "Stop. Nothing's wrong, so stop trying to get into my head."

"Okay, okay," Matt said, putting his hands up defensively. "Why are you so worried about what Claire thinks?"

"I don't. Besides, what's in my head is none of your business."

"Ha! You admitted it," Matt said, taking a seat next to him. "I didn't get in your head. I just saw you two staring at each other during the wedding, and I guessed the rest. So why do you care?"

"Because she's the only one who still can't stand to be around me!" he exclaimed quietly.

"Oh," Matt said, sinking back into his seat. "Sorry, man. I could always trap you two in your head, and let you work it out there."

"Don't even joke about that," he hissed.

"Okay, okay. Well I'm going to go dance with my wife before Pete and Em take the floor," Matt said as he stood.

He couldn't help but glare from his seat. Couples were dancing across the floor, having fun, and waiting for the bride and groom to make their appearance. His mind wandered what it would be like to twirl Claire around the floor. As the song ended, Noah announced the newlyweds. "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Peter Petrelli!" The two burst through the doors, and slowly succumbed to the music. After their song ended, Noah came over the speakers again, just in time for him to notice the goofy grins Peter and Emma were both sporting and in his directions. "Ahem… The newlyweds requested for the bridal party to take a turn on the dance floor." Noah set the microphone down, and walked to Angela, leading her onto the floor, followed by Emma's parents. He sighed to himself and realized why the couple was smiling at him. He stood from his seat, and walked over to Claire, who was practically trying to shrink behind Noah. He couldn't help but notice her blush, an act made more prominent by the dress that matched his tie. He could hear her heart pound, but he didn't know what caused it to race. Anger? Frustration? Anticipation? He didn't know. So, putting on his best smile, he walked toward the young woman.

"May I have this dance?" he asked in the most gentlemanly way.

Claire was speechless. There she was staring wide-eyed at her nemesis, and he had just asked her to dance. She was almost positive he could hear the missing beat her heart made at his request. Her hands felt sweaty, and she was surprised that she felt nervous. Nervous like the way Gretchen had admitted her crush on her, and had kissed her, nervous. And he was just asking for a dance! Get ahold of yourself, Bennett!' her mind screamed. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it of the thoughts that were overcoming her. Why had she thought of him kissing her instead of Gretchen in that moment? She actually thought she saw a hint of hurt shoot through his eyes. So she smiled, and in a hoarse whisper, she replied, "Sure." She cleared her throat and took his hand, receiving a large smile in response.

He literally twirled her onto the floor before placing a hand on her waist. Being the gentleman he was, he kept her at an arm's length, which surprised her a little. She was in shock as he moved her around effortlessly, and in no way invaded her space. After a minute of silence, she finally broke the silence. "You're a great dancer," she complimented, though not looking at him.

"Thank you," he breathed. His eyes were on her face, judging every little speck of emotion. She could feel his eyes on her, and reluctantly met his gaze.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked, quickly shooting daggers from her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was," he admitted truthfully. After not hearing a response from her, he decided to ask his own question. "Why do you hate me?"

"Do you really have to ask?" she asked dumbfounded. She couldn't believe how nonchalantly he asked that. "You stalked me, my family, and my friends! You sliced my head open, and you killed Nathan!" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper. Anger was reignited within her.

"I've changed!" he replied in the same hushed tone. "It's been years since I've done anything like that! Why can't you see that I'm a different man?"

"Because you're not! You're still Sylar! Changing your name doesn't change that you're a monster!" She didn't know if the song was over or not. She didn't care. She released herself from his grip, running from the dance floor and the man also known as Gabriel.