Having spent years trapped inside one, Gabriel was well-versed in nightmares. He understood the terror and panic that came with them, the confusion and desperation as the mind struggled to catch up with itself, struggling frantically to differentiate reality from fantasy, never able to find the fine line. Still, that didn't change the fact that he experienced it all again each and every time; it was one of the few times he had ever felt truly powerless, and as such, it was one of the things he hated he most.

He'd been having many nightmares recently.

He imagined he saw his mother, holding a snow globe in trembling, bloody hands, looking at him from behind the strands of her hair, wondering where she went wrong. He saw Elle, a thin red line on her forehead the only evidence of what he'd done to her, her eyes narrowed and accusing, sparks dancing from her fingertips. He saw the faces of every person he had ever murdered, ever stolen abilities from, each one more mangled and bloody than the last.

Sometimes he found himself back in the City, abandoned and desolate, alone with only the ticking of watches to keep him company. Perhaps those were merely memories; the years had blurred together in the time before Peter's arrival, each one melting easily into the next until he was unsure if it had been a week or a decade. It was impossible to remember each and every day, to realize what was real and what his mind had conjured up.

Sometimes he simply woke with terror clawing at his chest, struggling for breath, the fear a palpable force surrounding his body, the one thing he couldn't fight off, couldn't figure out the meaning of, couldn't take apart and analyze. It simply…was.

And he hated it.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

It was just such a nightmare that awoke him from what had been a very long sleep, covered in crusted-over blood on the laboratory floor.

It took several moments for his mind to catch up to his body, already pulling himself to his knees and attempting to find the source of so much blood, the wound that would no doubt spell the end for him, without Claire's ability. It took several more for him to realize that there wasn't even a scratch on him.

'I'm so sorry, Gabriel.'

He stiffened, glancing around for the source of the words, the familiarity of the voice scratching at the back of his mind. Those were the last words he remembered hearing, before-what? Death? All he could remember was a numbing darkness, something much kinder than the flames he'd been taught growing up would await him should he sin. The confusion melted away when he saw the Doctor's prone form on the ground on the other side of the room, his body twisted and mangled, just the way Claire had left it.

That was the voice he'd heard, he realized slowly. Claire Bennet. He frowned slightly, leaning against the wall for support as he stumbled towards the door. Somehow he couldn't fit the words with the voice, with the person. The apology was enough to make him pause, but the name-he hadn't heard that name from anyone but Peter in years, and he hadn't expected it from anyone else. To them, he was still the Boogeyman, the monster who had terrorized them for so long. He'd thought that especially true for Claire, and yet…

She'd healed him. He frowned slightly, feeling the blood on his lips crack and split, the taste bitter on his tongue. He didn't believe that Peter would have left him behind, unless he believed him to be dead. Perhaps she'd tried to heal him, and didn't have time to stay and find out if it had succeeded. From the snippets of her voice he could recall, however, it sounded very much like she believed him to be gone.

It took a while to muster up the strength to teleport out. He hadn't been thinking of a specific place, so it shouldn't have surprised him to find himself in the most familiar place, stumbling into Peter's living room with the stench of blood strong in his nose. He'd barely managed to open his mouth before Peter came out of his bedroom, tired-eyed and confused, the shock slowly registering on his face at his appearance.

"You're not dead," He said slowly, and Gabriel found himself, for once, without a word to say in response.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

It had been hard to convince him to keep it a secret.

Gabriel wasn't sure at first why he even wanted it that way. It seemed like a golden opportunity, as twisted as it was. A chance to start over, to be the person he'd been trying so hard to be. It quickly became apparent to him, however, that he couldn't simply drop everything from his old life. There were many that he wouldn't mind leaving behind. Those who saw him as unredeemable, for one. He had no desire to continue to jump through hoops to prove something to them when he still had to convince himself some days. But there were a few who he found himself unable to simply cut all ties with.

Peter, for one. He'd been the first one to forgive him, to see him as anything else than a monster, a murderer, and that was a debt that Gabriel would never be able to repay. Even after he'd murdered his brother, Nathan, in cold blood, Peter had still taken the time to empathize with him in the hell they'd both been trapped in. He'd reminded him that he still had humanity within him, even if no one else saw it. He'd pushed him further onto the path of redemption. He couldn't just leave the man who had become something akin to a brother over the years, both in his mind and in reality.

And then there was Claire.

Part of him believed that she would be truly better off if she believed him dead. The monster from her nightmares finally vanquished, good triumphing over evil, the stuff of storybooks and fairytales. He owed her at least that much, after all that he'd put her through. After all, Nathan had been her biological father, and Meredith her mother, and their blood was on his hands. He'd stolen her ability, the most intimate part of herself, and smiled while he did it. She deserved to be free of him, and he knew, in the strongest, most familiar and logical part of his mind, that it was what he needed to do.

"She's sick with guilt," Peter said simply, pulling him from his thoughts. "She needs to know you're not dead. You, and Whitney…she can't handle both, Gabriel. She's breaking."

Gabriel could hardly imagine Claire Bennet 'breaking' over anything, and certainly not his 'death'. The only time he'd seen her truly lose it was when she found out about her father's death, that night in the cemetery. But she couldn't truly break; that was the beauty of her ability, the very essence of it.

"She didn't kill me," Gabriel responded slowly, remembering the pain as the bullets ripped through his body. "It was the Doctor. She knows that."

"Does she?" Peter asked, and Gabriel was silent. This was what she deserved, he told himself: a chance to be free.

But then why did he feel trapped?

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

"Emma made pancakes, if you're hungry."

Gabriel glanced up from his spot on the couch, frowning slightly at the chill in the words as Claire turned out of the room without even a glance in his direction. He suppressed a sigh, setting the book he'd been reading down on the coffee table, pushing himself to his feet and following in her footsteps, into the kitchen.

Though he'd only seen her a few times since the confrontation after his 'death', it had always been like this. Terse words exchanged, a chill in the air between them. It was obvious that she was still upset over what he'd done. He'd thought they'd made a significant breakthrough, that night. He had never expected to hear confirmation of his humanity from anyone, and certainly not from her. Still, that was exactly what she'd given him with her reassurance that she trusted his restraint, that he wouldn't hurt anyone.

'That doesn't mean she doesn't have a right to still be pissed,' he reminded himself, offering Emma a small smile as she slid a plate of four pancakes into his hands, gesturing towards the table, where butter, syrup, and various drink choices were already set out. He felt a smirk tugging on his lips as he remembered Peter's words from a few nights before, about how Emma was going to make him fat if she kept it up. She certainly fit the domestic role, he thought distantly as he watched her adjust the apron she wore, pointing the spatula threateningly in Peter's direction when he tried to sneak a piece of bacon from the pan.

"Pass the syrup, please."

Gabriel glanced up, struggling to keep his face neutral as he nodded, handing the bottle over to Claire, trying to ignore the way she maneuvered their hands so their fingers never touched. He relaxed slightly when Peter and Emma took their spots at the other two ends of the table, though the tension seemed to heighten almost immediately once more as silence fell.

"Claire, have you decided if you're going back to school?" Emma asked, her words slightly broken as she watched the younger girl's lips intently.

"It's only been a few months, Emma," Claire said gently, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "Even though the legality of those 'hospitals' was challenged, it's still not safe to be out in public. I'd have to take online classes, and I'm not sure there are any that I want to take available."

"What do you want to take?" Emma asked, her curiosity obviously genuine. Gabriel had noticed how much Emma seemed to treat Claire like a younger sister, protective and nurturing all at once. He quickly looked away when Claire met his eyes, busying himself with the pancakes in front of him instead.

"I think I want to go into politics," Claire said slowly, and Gabriel felt his eyes widen slightly, feeling a small tug of a person he no longer was, never should have been. "Not because of Nathan," She amended quickly, glancing at Peter as she spoke. "Not that he wasn't good at what he did. It's just…" She frowned slightly, obviously unsure of her words. "I don't know. I just want to be able to do something about this mess. Something good. I feel like I could do more if I could understand why this was allowed to happen in the first place. Find a way to stop it from happening again. I don't know."

There was silence for several moments. Gabriel glanced at Peter, who was staring intently at his plate, despite the glances Claire kept shooting in his direction. Emma was watching Claire with a soft look in her eyes, something akin to admiration and pity, though he couldn't imagine why she'd feel the latter at this moment.

'Of course you can. The person who killed Nathan is sitting right across from her,' he thought, stabbing his fork through the food in front of him, struggling to ignore the derisive voice in the back of his mind.

"I think that's great," Peter said finally, and Gabriel could see how much the words took from him, despite their sincerity. "It's dangerous, but it's admirable. I think you could do something good, Claire. I just want you to be safe. Maybe you should wait until things calm down a little more."

Gabriel could see the weight lifted from the young woman's shoulders at her uncle's words, as though she'd been waiting for his approval, his encouragement.

"Thank you," She said softly, and silence fell once more.

Gabriel sat quietly for the rest of the meal, avoiding the small talk that Emma tried so hard to implement. He found he simply had no energy to pretend.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

The night air brought a chill with it, much welcomed in the summer heat. Gabriel sat back in the chair on the balcony, stretching his long legs out in front of him, folding his hands together behind his head. He'd woken hours before and, unable to find sleep once more, found his way outside instead. Peter had insisted he stay the night, since he'd been there so late anyway, and he hadn't had the energy to argue. Still, he'd grown too used to his own bed to find Peter's couch very comfortable.

"I don't know why I never came out here before."

Gabriel sat up quickly, his every sense alert at the sound of the voice coming from behind him. He relaxed slightly when he realized it was Claire, though the anxiety was quickly replaced by confusion as she sat down on the chair next to him, pulling her legs up and tucking them underneath her.

"Peter didn't think it was safe," He said slowly, unsure if he was supposed to answer. She just shrugged, leaning back against the chair as she glanced up at the sky, hidden between the branches of a tall tree.

"It's never going to be safe. Not really. But I'm done hiding," Claire stated simply, not even glancing in his direction. "I'm not going to just sit on the sidelines like my father wanted me to. I can do something about this. I have to."

It made sense why she craved Peter's approval, he thought distantly. Her father would never have given it. Noah Bennet was nothing if not controlling, and the thought of his little girl being in the middle of a fray that could take her life, however temporarily, was never something he entertained.

Gabriel stiffened slightly when he realized Claire was watching him, her eyes strangely intent, as though waiting for him to speak. He frowned, looking up and away from her, watching the distant stars instead.

The truth was, he'd never doubted her. Even back when one of his major goals had been to torment her, he'd never believed her to be weak or breakable. Sure, she was impulsive and irresponsible, but she was strong. That was part of the challenge: to see how long it took to break something that was, by all appearances, unbreakable. Though she'd struggled recently, he still saw that strength in her, the core that could be bent but never crushed, no matter what weight the world, or he, decided to pile upon it.

"I know you will," He finally said, looking back at her, meeting her gaze evenly with his own. "I've noticed that when Claire Bennet wants something, she's very…persistent."

'I'll never stop trying to kill you.' He remembered when she'd said those words to him, trapped in the hotel room against her will as he ran his fingers through her hair, enjoying the discomfort on her features, the fear and anger inside. At least she'd given up that goal, for now. But who knew what their unusually long futures held?

"I forgive you, you know."

The words brought him from his reverie, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at her, small and strong and sure.

"I wasn't sure if I could," She continued, and he noticed how much trouble she was having meeting his gaze, the way her hands clenched tight fistfuls of her shirt, struggling to calm down. He took the liberty and looked away, not wanting to ruin the opportunity to hear the rest of her words.

"After everything you've done, it was…hard." She laughed, the sound slightly unnerving to his ears. "I felt like if I forgave you, I was betraying my parents. All of them. Meredith and Nathan, especially. I couldn't stop wondering how they'd feel to see me even considering forgetting what you'd done to them."

There was silence for several moments, and Gabriel had begun to wonder if she was done when she continued, her voice quieter.

"But when you died, I realized something. The Sylar that I harbored so much hatred and resentment towards was gone. Sure, there were traces of him in you, but that man is dead. It just took the new one dying to make me realize it. And when you showed up again, alive, I didn't know what to feel. Was I meant to be relieved? Disappointed? I didn't know. I was just so pissed, that you let me carry your death when you weren't even dead. I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but—"

"I wanted to give you a chance."

Gabriel frowned slightly at the words that escaped, almost unbidden, from his lips. He was no longer sure if this conversation were even happening, it seemed so surreal. He'd never expected to hear words like this from anyone; they'd surprised him coming from Peter, but from Claire, they seemed almost impossible. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, noticing that she was waiting for him to explain.

He suddenly felt like Gabriel Gray once more, the soft and wounded man who hid behind the gears and trinkets of his shop, nearly afraid of other people. He wasn't that man anymore, nor was he Sylar. It was as Claire had said; somehow he'd become something in between, a mixture of the two. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. He needed Gabriel's gentleness to even entertain the words he felt on his lips, and Sylar's brazenness to even consider saying them.

"A chance to be free from the Boogeyman." He felt the corner of his lips turning up slightly, a smirk forming on his face. "It only seemed fair. I didn't want you to be afraid, or angry. Not anymore. I thought if I was dead, you'd have that chance."

"Then why did you come to my window?" She asked softly, and he shook his head, glancing back in her direction.

"I don't know," He answered honestly, feeling the sting of a phantom hand on his cheek. "Peter told me you'd left, and how broken up you seemed. I imagined it had nothing to do with me; he told me about the paper you carried around, the way you blamed yourself for Whitney's, for everyone's, deaths. I thought I could make you listen to reason. Peter seemed convinced it was partly because of my 'death' as well, and I knew if there was even a chance that I could take at least that off your shoulders...I owed it to you. Maybe more than the chance of freedom." He shrugged, looking away again. "Or maybe I'm just a selfish bastard. Who knows."

"Thank you," Claire said quietly, and Gabriel looked back at her, one eyebrow turning up slightly in confusion. "For doing that. For taking that list from me. I realized something that night. Letting go of guilt doesn't mean forgetting. I'll always remember the people who were hurt, who were killed. But I can't do anything for their memories if I spend all day beating myself up about it. I might still blame myself, but I know that I did all that I could. And I owe it to them, to myself, to do more. That's why I want to go into politics. What better way to make a change than starting from the top?"

When he was silent, she spoke once more, her voice somewhat softer than before.

"But I do forgive you. I just wanted you to know that."

"Forgive me for what?" He asked before he could bite his tongue. The list of his indiscretions was endless, and he doubted anyone could let go of them all.

"For everything," She said simply, wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her bare knees. "It's like I said about guilt. Forgiving you doesn't mean forgetting what you did, who you took from me. It just means no longer associating those things with you. It means that they're not what I'm going to think of when I look at you. It means seeing your humanity, and recognizing it as the same as my own." She paused, and Gabriel felt himself hanging on her words, nearly holding his breath, despite how small and pathetic it made him feel. He didn't care, not now.

"Peter told me, when we first got here, that he forgives you every day because he empathized with you. I thought he was crazy then, but I get it now. Even back in the clearing, it felt wrong to turn my back on you after seeing the things I had. And when you died…" She frowned, wrapping her arms more tightly around her legs, as though to fold up into herself and disappear. "I told you before that I couldn't imagine what having so many excuses, so many abilities, could do to your humanity. But I saw you then, lying on that floor, stripped of all those excuses, stripped of the Hunger and all that came with it, and I just saw…Gabriel. I know that's not who you are anymore. Honestly, I'm not sure who you are anymore. But…I think I want to. Know you, I mean. If I can."

He noticed the way she made herself smaller with every word, until she was nothing more than a ball in the chair, her hair hanging low over her face, hiding her from him. Gabriel sat in silence for what felt like a long time, surprised at how much easier it was to breathe, suddenly. It was as though her words had taken a weight off his shoulders, one he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying. Though he still had to carry the guilt and memories of his past actions, it was somehow relieving to realize that she no longer would.

Though even he was unsure how to answer her last, nearly unspoken request. He'd imagined that she'd want nothing to do with him, even if she someday came to forget her hatred for him. Yet here she was, practically asking to be, if not his friend, at least someone who knew him. It was a somewhat unsettling thought, though not an altogether unpleasant one. He sat up straight, leaning over to where she sat, still with her chin on her knees, staring straight ahead, intent on something, anything but him.

He held out his hand, unable to suppress the small smirk on his lips as she looked up, confused and waited until she took his hand, the hint of a smile on her lips as she shook it.

"My name is Gabriel Gray. And you are?"

"Claire Bennet," She said slowly, catching onto the game as she released his hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Claire Bennet," He said, sitting back in his chair as she swung her legs over the side of her own, offering him a thin smile.

"I think it's time I head to bed," she said after a moment, standing up and turning to the sliding glass door. She paused, glancing back at him, where he still sat in his chair. "It was nice to meet you, Gabriel."

He simply nodded, unwilling to test the limits of this unspoken truce just yet, not wanting to break whatever was forming in front of him. He waited until the light inside had turned off before turning back to the sky, peering through the branches of the tree in front of him. He wasn't sure what had just transpired, but for once, he was content not to overanalyze it, to search out the ifs and whys and buts the way he normally would. There was no need to analyze the parts of this; there were simply too many, fit where they weren't meant to, forced into place by trials and circumstances. Still, it seemed as though the mechanism was working, despite its imperfections and tarnishes.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

End.

Note: Thank you all so much for reading this and sticking it out with me! I hope you aren't disappointed with the ending. I also thought you'd like to know that I'm planning out a sequel, titled (however cliché it may be), "Monster". It'll be slow going, but I'll try to get the first chapter up as soon as possible. I'm really looking forward to writing it, and I hope you'll stick around and check it out. :)