Safety in Numbers - Part One of Six NC17/R18+
Title: Safety in Numbers - Part One of Six
Author: Bombshell_chic
Characters/Pairings: Peter, Claire and Sylar, with other characters guest-starring.
Rating: R18 for part one
Warnings: Strong descriptions of sexual violence. Incestual flirtations.
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of NBC/Tim Kring etc. I make no profit from writing or posting this. Song lyrics for this chapter by Garbage.
Spoiler alert: Episode 18, then it goes wildly AU, especially with the whole timeframe thing….
Summary: Sylar has developed a dangerous fascination for Claire, and plots her demise. Meanwhile, she and Peter have taken refuge at Casa Petrelli and are growing closer….
Notes: I wrote this during that huge break between episodes 18 and 19, so it’s going off on it’s own tangent! Also, I always forget that Claude and Claire probably know each other from his days with The Company. Mia Culpa! This chapter is a bit mild while I set things up, but it goes insane from part two onwards.
Don’t care what they have to say
Why you listen to them anyway?
Why do you have to give them what they want?
They love to watch you as you fall apart.
Stick it to them like a Phoenix rise
There’s nothing grander than the big surprise
They can’t hurt you with their stick and stones
About time take them right between the eyes.
-Right between the eyes, Garbage
Safety in numbers - Part One
They did everything they could to hunt him.
Peter had recovered from the attack, and now he spent his days refining his telepathy, searching for him.
Mohinder systematically called the people on his new list, warning them that they were in danger.
But for Nathan Petrelli, it was business as usual- he had an election to win. At least that’s how things appeared on the surface.
After his botched attack on Peter, he’d gone to ground. He’d only gotten a few names off the list for all his trouble. He’d managed to track down one of them, and had taken her abilities; but that encounter was different- it had given him another sort of appetite.
So he’d come back to New York, because there was one person he wanted above all else now, and he knew she was there. One person he couldn’t get out of his head; and he wanted more than just her powers.
They didn’t even know he was watching.
*
Peter wasn’t exactly happy about being back at his family’s city stronghold- a huge penthouse on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, but the Petrelli family consensus was that he and Claire would be safer there than holed up in his tiny one-bedder in Little Italy. He also knew they would soon need more space than he could accommodate- the family was taking in ‘refugees’ right, left and centre- Nathan had tracked down Claude and offered him protection, on the condition that he continue helping Peter with his abilities. And of course, there was also the mysterious Haitian man, whose sole duty it seemed was to protect Claire. The Haitian was never very far away from Claire, which bothered Peter more that he wanted to think about.
He spent a large part of the day practicing with Claude- that is to say, being goaded by Claude, because that’s how the Englishman seemed to work. Peter was working hard to improve his telepathic abilities, desperate to use to them to track down Sylar. It was a thankless job, partly because he was learning a lot more about Claude than he’d ever wanted to know (and Claude wasn’t exact thrilled about that, either) and also, of all the abilities he’d acquired, it also caused the most physical discomfort. He went to bed early every night; exhausted, his head pounding, but also preferring to avoid everyone else as much as he could.
*
Claire had been so shocked and guilty- and disappointed- when she’d learned Peter was her uncle. She tried hard not to let her thoughts betray how she really felt about him, but she suspected that that was the real reason he seemed to be avoiding her. She was almost jealous of Claude because of the time the man got to spend with Peter, and resentful of the Englishman- he just seemed so mean to Peter all the time.
So she tried to pass the time by reading. She would seek out books in the vast private library of her late bio-Grandpa, but it was hard- there wasn’t a lot of literature there that she found appealing. So she’d consoled herself by seeking out books she knew were restricted to adults at her local library.
She was slowly making her way along the shelves one day, looking for something interesting. She smiled slightly to herself as she took Lady Chatterley’s Lover off the shelf, and considered it.
“I can’t believe that book was banned for so long” A male voice spoke, seemingly out of nowhere. Claire stiffened, her eyes going wide.
He appeared out of thin air, right at Claire’s side, eyes fixed on the book in the girl’s hands. Claire stared at him, but tried to act as though she interacted with invisible men all the time.
“It’s really not as dirty as you’d think, if you’re looking for a few cheap thrills,” he continued.
“So I’ve heard, but it’s still a classic.” She told him casually.
A small smile crossed Claude’s face; he was impressed by the girl’s lack of reaction to him. Most people screamed and ran from the room when he did that trick.
“If you want classic smut…” Claude began, and turned away to search the shelves. “Miller’s worth a look” he finished, retrieving a book and handing it to her. She smiled at the copy of Tropic of Capricorn, and then looked questioningly at him.
“Is this the guy who dated Anais Nin?” She asked him.
“Dated… heh… yeah, he’s the one. Make sure you check her out, too,” he said, returning her smile.
“Already have” Claire said, giving him a small smile. It was the first proper conversation she’d had with him, and already they were off to a weird start.
“Well, if you’ve got this kind of stuff on the brain, make sure you stay away from your uncle. He’s too easily distracted enough as it is” Claude said rather sourly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered out of the room.
Claire felt a surge of irritation at the man, but then she flushed- he’d practically read her mind- and he wasn’t even the telepath…
*
Claire finally had enough of the silence and the avoidance. She found Peter lying on his bed, reading, and he smiled shyly at her and set his book aside when she invited herself in. She sat at the end of his bed and looked down at him.
“You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?” she asked sadly.
“No, I’m not” he lied. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind”
“I know you do… but… I was hoping we’d get to spend time together. Get to know each other. I mean, it doesn’t really feel like we’re related” suddenly she felt her face burn, like she was giving too much away, but she pressed on. “But I want us to be friends.”
Peter smiled; his eyes gentle “I want us to be friends, too. But my first priority is protecting you, Claire. And I have to develop my powers so I can use them to that end if need be. That’s taking up a lot of my time…”
“I know” Claire said sagely. “It just doesn’t make being here any easier.” She studied Peter for a moment. “You aren’t exactly thrilled about having Claude around, are you?”
Peter sighed, and thought hard before answering. “It’s not that I don’t like him… it’s more that I don’t know how much we can trust him. I know he’s helping me now, but when it comes right down to it, he’s only ever going to look out for number one.”
Claire nodded. “But at least while he’s here, he’s safe from Sylar… and my Dad’s company…” she frowned deeply.
“True.” He looked grimly at her. “Claude’s power in Sylar’s hands….” He shuddered.
“I wish… I wish my Dad had killed him,” Claire whispered. “Sylar’s a monster. I mean, I saw what he did to you. He’s just going to keep going, isn’t he?” she said, her eyes moving up to imagine a cut on Peter’s forehead.
Peter frowned and didn’t answer for a moment. “I wish you didn’t know…” he said quietly.
“You can’t protect me from everything” she said.
“I can try,” he said, trying to smile.
She crawled up the bed and lay down opposite him, bringing them eye-to-eye. Peter looked at her.
She saw the look in his eyes. They were silent for several minutes, looking at each other. Claire wanted to stay, but she knew she had to change the subject.
“What were you like in high school? Were you popular?” she asked.
Peter laughed gently. “Definitely not”
“Why not?” Claire asked.
“Because I was dork. Not that that’s changed” he said, grinning. “I wasn’t athletic at all, or even very academic, so no one really paid much attention to me. I just slipped through the cracks, you know? The kind of school I went to, if you weren’t an academic giant or the star Quarterback, you didn’t really count…”
“Pfft! Star quarterbacks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, trust me” she said bitterly. She looked at him again. “But you had friends, right?”
“A few. Mostly in the…” he broke off and chuckled, embarrassed. “In the chess and science clubs.”
“Chess geek” Claire said, smiling at him. He swatted her with a pillow, and she laughed.
“I didn’t know you played chess. You should teach me while we’re imprisoned here” she said lightly.
”No, you’d be bored stupid” he said.
“Oh, I’m not smart enough, huh?” she said, mock-insulted.
Peter stuck his tongue out at her, and she flipped him off. His eyes went wide as he feigned to be shocked, and they both laughed.
A look passed between them again, and without really realising, they shifted closer to each other.
”I bet the girls liked you, though. Those big, dark puppy dog eyes you’ve got…”
“I went to a boys school.” Peter lamented.
“Oh, you’re kidding!” Claire exclaimed. “Well, that sucks!”
Peter nodded sadly. “A boy’s boarding school”
“Oh, god! That must’ve been interesting” Claire intoned, and Peter shot her a dark look. “I’m guessing it wasn’t much like Hogwarts” she joked.
Peter chuckled “No, definitely not magical in the slightest-”
He broke off when there came a knock at the door. Angela Petrelli opened the door and invited herself in. Peter sat up guiltily, noticing the questioning expression on his mother’s face. Claire rolled over to face the woman, and she too sat up hastily.
“What’s up?” Peter asked.
Angela continued to study them both for another moment, before remembering what she’d come it for.
“Nathan’s here. He needs to speak with you.” Angela said, looking expectantly at Peter, who looked at her questioningly.
“Well… come on.” Angela said, mildly irritated.
“Oh” Peter said. He slid off the bed and stood, and Claire followed suit.
“I’ll talk to you later, I guess” Peter said, following his mother out the door.
He hurried to match Angela’s brisk pace down the hall.
“Whet were just you doing, Peter?” she said.
“Talking” Peter said.
Angela stopped suddenly and faced her youngest son. “She’s your niece. She’s sixteen years old. You’d do well to remember both those little facts.”
Peter’s jaw dropped, insulted. “I was just talking to her Mom! She and I- we’re close, that’s all. And she trusts me-”
“Yes, she does. That’s why you should be very careful.” Angela said darkly.
“I didn’t lose all my common sense when my head got cut open, Mom! I still know what constitutes appropriate behaviour within a family.” Peter said hotly.
“Really? Then why are you blushing?” Angela returned archly.
“I can’t believe this sh-” Peter murmured, breaking off.
“The last thing this family needs is another damn scandal,” Angela said, turning away to continue walking.
Peter met his brother in the study. He hesitated when he entered the room- Mohinder was there also, and the expression on his face made a bubble of fear rise in Peter’s chest. The Haitian stood away from the other men in the corner, his face neutral as always, but Peter could sense tension beneath his impeccably calm exterior.
“What? What is it?” Peter demanded. He drew in a deep breath, trying to keep the thoughts of the other men from his head. Nathan glanced at him, his face tense. He handed Peter a folder.
“This is going to upset you, Peter. But you need to see.”
Peter flipped open the folder to a photo. It took him a minute realise what he was looking at.
“Jesus” he said, looking away. His telepathic shields slipped a little, and Mohinder’s guilty, panicked internal monologue intruded on him for a moment,
WhathaveIdoneshouldhavekilledhimwhenIshouldhavekilledthemonster
He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on blocking the thoughts out. He drew in a deep breath.
“What… what happened to her?” Peter choked out.
“Sylar” Nathan said flatly.
Peter looked at him. “But he doesn’t… he never attacks his victims like that”
“He does now,” Nathan said, meeting Peter’s eyes again.
“Why would he change his MO?” Mohinder wondered aloud. “It doesn’t make sense. All he needs are the brains. This kind of violence… even for Sylar it’s horrific.”
“He’s still a man, Mohinder. Even with the level of obsession he already has, he still must have other urges…” Nathan said. Mohinder shuddered.
Peter hesitantly glanced through the other photos in the file, before throwing it all down on the desk. He felt all the colour drain from his face.
“It’s just a question now of whether this becomes his new MO, or if it was just a random act of sickening violence.” Nathan said, his mouth tight.
*
He wanted to make Peter watch while he did Claire. He’d paralyse the younger man, and pin him to the ceiling, then hold his eyes open while he went to work.
He knew now exactly how he wanted it to play out:
While Peter looked on- broken, in agony, and totally, unforgivably helpless- he was going to tear the cheerleader’s clothes off.
He was going to hold her down and fuck her.
He could imagine the look on her face, the terror in her eyes as she looked up at him, the pain from being opened up so violently.
He was going to rip her virgin pussy open as he tore the top of her head off.
Then after he’d spent himself inside her- or maybe all over her, it would be more visual and degrading that way- he was going to take her brain.
He’d take Peter off the ceiling then, and drop him into the mess he’d made of the cheerleader. He wanted Peter to soak in her blood and not be able to do a damn thing about it.
Then Peter would watch while he added her powers to his.
God, he got so hard just thinking about it.
And then he would take Peter’s power. He would cut him slowly, making him suffer as much as possible. Peter would beg for death; wish he’d never been born; wish Sylar had killed him the first time around.
And Peter would die in a pool of Claire’s blood. Finally.
Sometime’s he’d make it all the way through the fantasy.
Sometimes he’d only get to the bit where he’d killed the cheerleader before he’d come. When he’d been younger he’d been so ashamed about touching himself- that was his Catholic upbringing. He would feel disgusted afterwards, and wash his hands over and over again. But now he would just lay back after he was spent, smiling indulgently at the thought of the cheerleader, broken and degraded beneath his body, imagining the smell of her blood, the feeling of her tight pussy resisting his cock, and he would drift off to a sound sleep.
Author: Bombshell_chic
Characters/Pairings: Peter, Claire and Sylar, with other characters guest-starring.
Rating: R18 for part one
Warnings: Strong descriptions of sexual violence. Incestual flirtations.
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of NBC/Tim Kring etc. I make no profit from writing or posting this. Song lyrics for this chapter by Garbage.
Spoiler alert: Episode 18, then it goes wildly AU, especially with the whole timeframe thing….
Summary: Sylar has developed a dangerous fascination for Claire, and plots her demise. Meanwhile, she and Peter have taken refuge at Casa Petrelli and are growing closer….
Notes: I wrote this during that huge break between episodes 18 and 19, so it’s going off on it’s own tangent! Also, I always forget that Claude and Claire probably know each other from his days with The Company. Mia Culpa! This chapter is a bit mild while I set things up, but it goes insane from part two onwards.
Don’t care what they have to say
Why you listen to them anyway?
Why do you have to give them what they want?
They love to watch you as you fall apart.
Stick it to them like a Phoenix rise
There’s nothing grander than the big surprise
They can’t hurt you with their stick and stones
About time take them right between the eyes.
-Right between the eyes, Garbage
Safety in numbers - Part One
They did everything they could to hunt him.
Peter had recovered from the attack, and now he spent his days refining his telepathy, searching for him.
Mohinder systematically called the people on his new list, warning them that they were in danger.
But for Nathan Petrelli, it was business as usual- he had an election to win. At least that’s how things appeared on the surface.
After his botched attack on Peter, he’d gone to ground. He’d only gotten a few names off the list for all his trouble. He’d managed to track down one of them, and had taken her abilities; but that encounter was different- it had given him another sort of appetite.
So he’d come back to New York, because there was one person he wanted above all else now, and he knew she was there. One person he couldn’t get out of his head; and he wanted more than just her powers.
They didn’t even know he was watching.
*
Peter wasn’t exactly happy about being back at his family’s city stronghold- a huge penthouse on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, but the Petrelli family consensus was that he and Claire would be safer there than holed up in his tiny one-bedder in Little Italy. He also knew they would soon need more space than he could accommodate- the family was taking in ‘refugees’ right, left and centre- Nathan had tracked down Claude and offered him protection, on the condition that he continue helping Peter with his abilities. And of course, there was also the mysterious Haitian man, whose sole duty it seemed was to protect Claire. The Haitian was never very far away from Claire, which bothered Peter more that he wanted to think about.
He spent a large part of the day practicing with Claude- that is to say, being goaded by Claude, because that’s how the Englishman seemed to work. Peter was working hard to improve his telepathic abilities, desperate to use to them to track down Sylar. It was a thankless job, partly because he was learning a lot more about Claude than he’d ever wanted to know (and Claude wasn’t exact thrilled about that, either) and also, of all the abilities he’d acquired, it also caused the most physical discomfort. He went to bed early every night; exhausted, his head pounding, but also preferring to avoid everyone else as much as he could.
*
Claire had been so shocked and guilty- and disappointed- when she’d learned Peter was her uncle. She tried hard not to let her thoughts betray how she really felt about him, but she suspected that that was the real reason he seemed to be avoiding her. She was almost jealous of Claude because of the time the man got to spend with Peter, and resentful of the Englishman- he just seemed so mean to Peter all the time.
So she tried to pass the time by reading. She would seek out books in the vast private library of her late bio-Grandpa, but it was hard- there wasn’t a lot of literature there that she found appealing. So she’d consoled herself by seeking out books she knew were restricted to adults at her local library.
She was slowly making her way along the shelves one day, looking for something interesting. She smiled slightly to herself as she took Lady Chatterley’s Lover off the shelf, and considered it.
“I can’t believe that book was banned for so long” A male voice spoke, seemingly out of nowhere. Claire stiffened, her eyes going wide.
He appeared out of thin air, right at Claire’s side, eyes fixed on the book in the girl’s hands. Claire stared at him, but tried to act as though she interacted with invisible men all the time.
“It’s really not as dirty as you’d think, if you’re looking for a few cheap thrills,” he continued.
“So I’ve heard, but it’s still a classic.” She told him casually.
A small smile crossed Claude’s face; he was impressed by the girl’s lack of reaction to him. Most people screamed and ran from the room when he did that trick.
“If you want classic smut…” Claude began, and turned away to search the shelves. “Miller’s worth a look” he finished, retrieving a book and handing it to her. She smiled at the copy of Tropic of Capricorn, and then looked questioningly at him.
“Is this the guy who dated Anais Nin?” She asked him.
“Dated… heh… yeah, he’s the one. Make sure you check her out, too,” he said, returning her smile.
“Already have” Claire said, giving him a small smile. It was the first proper conversation she’d had with him, and already they were off to a weird start.
“Well, if you’ve got this kind of stuff on the brain, make sure you stay away from your uncle. He’s too easily distracted enough as it is” Claude said rather sourly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered out of the room.
Claire felt a surge of irritation at the man, but then she flushed- he’d practically read her mind- and he wasn’t even the telepath…
*
Claire finally had enough of the silence and the avoidance. She found Peter lying on his bed, reading, and he smiled shyly at her and set his book aside when she invited herself in. She sat at the end of his bed and looked down at him.
“You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?” she asked sadly.
“No, I’m not” he lied. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind”
“I know you do… but… I was hoping we’d get to spend time together. Get to know each other. I mean, it doesn’t really feel like we’re related” suddenly she felt her face burn, like she was giving too much away, but she pressed on. “But I want us to be friends.”
Peter smiled; his eyes gentle “I want us to be friends, too. But my first priority is protecting you, Claire. And I have to develop my powers so I can use them to that end if need be. That’s taking up a lot of my time…”
“I know” Claire said sagely. “It just doesn’t make being here any easier.” She studied Peter for a moment. “You aren’t exactly thrilled about having Claude around, are you?”
Peter sighed, and thought hard before answering. “It’s not that I don’t like him… it’s more that I don’t know how much we can trust him. I know he’s helping me now, but when it comes right down to it, he’s only ever going to look out for number one.”
Claire nodded. “But at least while he’s here, he’s safe from Sylar… and my Dad’s company…” she frowned deeply.
“True.” He looked grimly at her. “Claude’s power in Sylar’s hands….” He shuddered.
“I wish… I wish my Dad had killed him,” Claire whispered. “Sylar’s a monster. I mean, I saw what he did to you. He’s just going to keep going, isn’t he?” she said, her eyes moving up to imagine a cut on Peter’s forehead.
Peter frowned and didn’t answer for a moment. “I wish you didn’t know…” he said quietly.
“You can’t protect me from everything” she said.
“I can try,” he said, trying to smile.
She crawled up the bed and lay down opposite him, bringing them eye-to-eye. Peter looked at her.
She saw the look in his eyes. They were silent for several minutes, looking at each other. Claire wanted to stay, but she knew she had to change the subject.
“What were you like in high school? Were you popular?” she asked.
Peter laughed gently. “Definitely not”
“Why not?” Claire asked.
“Because I was dork. Not that that’s changed” he said, grinning. “I wasn’t athletic at all, or even very academic, so no one really paid much attention to me. I just slipped through the cracks, you know? The kind of school I went to, if you weren’t an academic giant or the star Quarterback, you didn’t really count…”
“Pfft! Star quarterbacks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, trust me” she said bitterly. She looked at him again. “But you had friends, right?”
“A few. Mostly in the…” he broke off and chuckled, embarrassed. “In the chess and science clubs.”
“Chess geek” Claire said, smiling at him. He swatted her with a pillow, and she laughed.
“I didn’t know you played chess. You should teach me while we’re imprisoned here” she said lightly.
”No, you’d be bored stupid” he said.
“Oh, I’m not smart enough, huh?” she said, mock-insulted.
Peter stuck his tongue out at her, and she flipped him off. His eyes went wide as he feigned to be shocked, and they both laughed.
A look passed between them again, and without really realising, they shifted closer to each other.
”I bet the girls liked you, though. Those big, dark puppy dog eyes you’ve got…”
“I went to a boys school.” Peter lamented.
“Oh, you’re kidding!” Claire exclaimed. “Well, that sucks!”
Peter nodded sadly. “A boy’s boarding school”
“Oh, god! That must’ve been interesting” Claire intoned, and Peter shot her a dark look. “I’m guessing it wasn’t much like Hogwarts” she joked.
Peter chuckled “No, definitely not magical in the slightest-”
He broke off when there came a knock at the door. Angela Petrelli opened the door and invited herself in. Peter sat up guiltily, noticing the questioning expression on his mother’s face. Claire rolled over to face the woman, and she too sat up hastily.
“What’s up?” Peter asked.
Angela continued to study them both for another moment, before remembering what she’d come it for.
“Nathan’s here. He needs to speak with you.” Angela said, looking expectantly at Peter, who looked at her questioningly.
“Well… come on.” Angela said, mildly irritated.
“Oh” Peter said. He slid off the bed and stood, and Claire followed suit.
“I’ll talk to you later, I guess” Peter said, following his mother out the door.
He hurried to match Angela’s brisk pace down the hall.
“Whet were just you doing, Peter?” she said.
“Talking” Peter said.
Angela stopped suddenly and faced her youngest son. “She’s your niece. She’s sixteen years old. You’d do well to remember both those little facts.”
Peter’s jaw dropped, insulted. “I was just talking to her Mom! She and I- we’re close, that’s all. And she trusts me-”
“Yes, she does. That’s why you should be very careful.” Angela said darkly.
“I didn’t lose all my common sense when my head got cut open, Mom! I still know what constitutes appropriate behaviour within a family.” Peter said hotly.
“Really? Then why are you blushing?” Angela returned archly.
“I can’t believe this sh-” Peter murmured, breaking off.
“The last thing this family needs is another damn scandal,” Angela said, turning away to continue walking.
Peter met his brother in the study. He hesitated when he entered the room- Mohinder was there also, and the expression on his face made a bubble of fear rise in Peter’s chest. The Haitian stood away from the other men in the corner, his face neutral as always, but Peter could sense tension beneath his impeccably calm exterior.
“What? What is it?” Peter demanded. He drew in a deep breath, trying to keep the thoughts of the other men from his head. Nathan glanced at him, his face tense. He handed Peter a folder.
“This is going to upset you, Peter. But you need to see.”
Peter flipped open the folder to a photo. It took him a minute realise what he was looking at.
“Jesus” he said, looking away. His telepathic shields slipped a little, and Mohinder’s guilty, panicked internal monologue intruded on him for a moment,
WhathaveIdoneshouldhavekilledhimwhenIshouldhavekilledthemonster
He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on blocking the thoughts out. He drew in a deep breath.
“What… what happened to her?” Peter choked out.
“Sylar” Nathan said flatly.
Peter looked at him. “But he doesn’t… he never attacks his victims like that”
“He does now,” Nathan said, meeting Peter’s eyes again.
“Why would he change his MO?” Mohinder wondered aloud. “It doesn’t make sense. All he needs are the brains. This kind of violence… even for Sylar it’s horrific.”
“He’s still a man, Mohinder. Even with the level of obsession he already has, he still must have other urges…” Nathan said. Mohinder shuddered.
Peter hesitantly glanced through the other photos in the file, before throwing it all down on the desk. He felt all the colour drain from his face.
“It’s just a question now of whether this becomes his new MO, or if it was just a random act of sickening violence.” Nathan said, his mouth tight.
*
He wanted to make Peter watch while he did Claire. He’d paralyse the younger man, and pin him to the ceiling, then hold his eyes open while he went to work.
He knew now exactly how he wanted it to play out:
While Peter looked on- broken, in agony, and totally, unforgivably helpless- he was going to tear the cheerleader’s clothes off.
He was going to hold her down and fuck her.
He could imagine the look on her face, the terror in her eyes as she looked up at him, the pain from being opened up so violently.
He was going to rip her virgin pussy open as he tore the top of her head off.
Then after he’d spent himself inside her- or maybe all over her, it would be more visual and degrading that way- he was going to take her brain.
He’d take Peter off the ceiling then, and drop him into the mess he’d made of the cheerleader. He wanted Peter to soak in her blood and not be able to do a damn thing about it.
Then Peter would watch while he added her powers to his.
God, he got so hard just thinking about it.
And then he would take Peter’s power. He would cut him slowly, making him suffer as much as possible. Peter would beg for death; wish he’d never been born; wish Sylar had killed him the first time around.
And Peter would die in a pool of Claire’s blood. Finally.
Sometime’s he’d make it all the way through the fantasy.
Sometimes he’d only get to the bit where he’d killed the cheerleader before he’d come. When he’d been younger he’d been so ashamed about touching himself- that was his Catholic upbringing. He would feel disgusted afterwards, and wash his hands over and over again. But now he would just lay back after he was spent, smiling indulgently at the thought of the cheerleader, broken and degraded beneath his body, imagining the smell of her blood, the feeling of her tight pussy resisting his cock, and he would drift off to a sound sleep.