Title: Politics of Revolving Doors
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Rating: pg-13
Prompt: I Woke Up in a Car for
Word Count: 469 words
Note: This is a teaser for my new season 3 project, so there are slight spoilers for anyone who is avoiding them.

She wakes up in the front seat of her company car.

"I hate when you do that," she says to the man next to her who was ignoring most every traffic law.

"Saved both of our lives, didn't it." Wincing, she rubs the back of her head at the memory of the knife that was driven in there. She glances briefly down at herself, glad he had rid her of her bloody sweater, but surprised he remembered that she hated waking up in her own blood (and that he still cared enough, for that matter).

"I promised your father that I'd protect you, but if you keep pulling shit like that, all bets are off."

"It's not like we'll actually get hurt."

"No, but one day the company is going to catch you doing that. And I promise you, they have ways of making you wish you were dead," he replies darkly, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that she's waiting for it to break.

She doesn't know how to reply to that. The silence stretches on for miles and for the life of her, she can't figure out what's wrong with him. Usually he be yelling at her, or complaining about something, or teasing her about something else. But his silence is new. She guesses she lost that privilege too.

She wants to yell at him, "Pull over", or "Look at me". She wants to ask for a hug and hope that the whole world washes away, but the words stick in her throat and he continues to ignore her. It's just par for the course these days.

"Sylar…" she starts, as the silence finally gets to be too much for her. But she can't even get the words out to ask where they were going.

"We can't go back. Not after this," he finishes for her. For all the damage she's caused over the last few months, she wonders what it says about him that he's still trying to protect her like this (or even get into a car with her). She wouldn't blame him if he ended up dumping her body in the nearest ditch. Hell, he was probably thinking about it at this moment.

She watches the mile markers fly by, wondering if he's picked up super speed or time manipulation since the last time she saw him. Her hand reaches out to cover his. It's the most contact they've had in months and the absence of his gold ring still feels like a punch in the gut (especially since she's still wearing hers).

For a minute, she wishes she could go back, back to before she fell in love, back to before he started working with her father, back to before the world knew what they could do…