once upon a fight

[black_hat]

slightly cracky and overdone without beta. Lall.



“Claire. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Sylar wasn’t unused to chaos. By now, he was used to it, chose to think of it as an order in itself. It helped pass the time. Some certain others weren’t as calm as he was. Yes, even he was aware of how illogical and unexpected a turn out that was.

Over the years, planets and universes and solar systems and alternate realities have been…he’d be fair. Saved by them. Often saved. Adam was self-gratulatory and while Claire was more withholding, she was always almost happy during those times, with all her ideas of justice and freedom giving her an outlet, a purpose.

Sylar, however, knew that pride was a sin.

Still he remained.

Claire was a good determined influence and Adam had good ideas, full of information he couldn’t just take out of his head, and Sylar liked that they needed him so much even though they’d rather cut off their tongues than admit it. That happened once, actually, and he had counted the seconds that they could start to form insults later.

They thought they were very clever.

They had been trapped and imprisoned, as he had been, and time had been hard after they had left Earth. He had times where he hated them with all his old hate in spades. He would be tempted to bounce them off the walls of their moon-orbiting home like pinballs. He had times when he thought he could be close to loving them. As much as he could at all and as much as he could love these particular two people. Well, inconsistency there: ‘people’ was a Claire-term, and ‘gods’ was an Adam term. They fought about that and it brought confusion to who he was supposed to be.

They were fought about world changing events to daily household food.

Due to such great impulses, these planets and places were caught up in something else—a war between two very oversensitive immortals.

Sylar didn’t mind: nature took its course. He looked at the two moons overhead, watched the hovercrafts disappear and reappear out of hyperspace.

He also felt something unfamiliar: excitement. Oh he had seen them fight before. He had seen them cut each other up, volunteer him to flame them/freeze them/electrocute them, see who could go longest without food, who could be in the anti-airlock without completely collapsing. He had seen the contests.

He had never seen a real fight.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked again, quietly. Amused. Adam was living in the high building of this great new city, lording over it, and all the information for their recent conquests were in there. She was willing to destroy it. Claire was angry. Had been angry enough to reveal them again and start up a riot about rights and free will. Adam never mind-wiped Claire though—probably because things like this wouldn’t happen.

She was going to ride a huge hovercraft into his building.

“No,” she said, standing on the wing. “It’s a terrible one. Remember to get him out in five minutes.”

Sylar nodded.

Oh, life-changing events.

The truth was this was about many important life-changing events but what had trigged these life-changing events happened more than a fifty years ago.

***

As Sylar said, he loved them in his way.

He loved the memory of traveling through space on a literal old-fashioned ship from the old days, an Adam suggestion. He loved listening and arguing with Adam, and he loved it when Claire voted him the one to go aboard as ambassador to the next pirate ship and made him an eye-patch.

“I have to admit,” Adam had said. “You do look the part, mate.” And he laughed as if he was clever. He was.

They were very involved, with each other and everyone else’s business, their so-called evil doers, and they involved him often, in their very overly-involved way. Pride and arrogance in the form of benevolence.

Something had happened between them and Sylar wanted that full story, that full information. He wanted every detail. But this story he would wait for: you learn that over centuries.

Sylar would tell you what he did know: he knew that Adam wanted Claire to be happy. With all that he offered, he wanted to be the one to make her happy. Sylar knew better than to try.

The fight started simply. Sylar was reading all the new found scientific discoveries in this era. (Most of them were his, Claire had challenged him ). He was a perfectionist at any rate. Adam was supposed to be planning their unforgettable next event, their next move in striving to keep constantly moving. Planning a small mark on history and making them feel meaningful.

Sylar looked up and saw him staring at Claire who was sitting near the window above them, looking out at the empty space.

“Do you think she’s up there because of my plan to filter out the traitors by turning them against each other?”

“No,” Sylar said.

“Hmm. Do you think it’s because she opposed my original idea of removing this government’s currency?” Adam asked.

“No, she was like this before tonight.”

“—You may be on to something there. Wasn’t it past last week?”

“She was almost digested by a space blob last week,” Sylar said dryly. “That would be annoying. And embarrassing.”

“I know, I know, and you saved her,” Adam said, having learned a routine.

“Because you asked nicely,” he said, smiling darkly. “I suppose the princess needs time to recover.”

“Oh, she’s made of tougher stuff than that,” Adam said. “What else could it be?”

Sylar sighed. “You should observe the patterns. She always gazes out into the abyss when the anniversary comes up. She’s thinking of her favorite family again.”

Yes, Sylar still hated all of them equally.

“She’ll come down in a bit,” Adam said. Sylar studied him. What was it? Claire was an anchor for him, he would even chose her over Adam. But Adam seemed to have a preoccupation of his own. It had to do with his first plan to decimate the Earth, way back. From what Sylar heard, she let him go out of his grave, wanting nothing from him, and obviously Adam approached her.

He frowned, frustrated. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for that long. You’d die more times than you have in the last decade.”

Adam looked at him thoughtfully. “Then let’s be proactive! Show some initiative! Let’s distract you from her thoughts.”

Sylar smirked at him.

“Not like that, we do that regardless,” Adam declared. “Let’s amuse her tomorrow.”

Sylar listened to Adam’s plan and already intuited it was a horrible plan. He thought Adam knew it was a horrible plan.

“You know that’s a bit extreme?”

“She likes to find things out about herself,” Adam said, benevolent, but Sylar knew that it was also that he wanted to see what Claire would do. Not that Sylar would say it out-loud because he wanted to see what happened.

So, a fake kidnapping, Adam being the star of some government using him as a blood bank, and Claire going crazy for a week.

They found him, and Claire found out.

“I thought something terrible had happened to you, and I…and this was a trick. You played a trick on me,” she said, her voice lowering, watching the ship she had ruined sink into a black hole on the monitor.

“In order to cheer you up,” Adam said.

Her eyes widening in this look was pure horror and, if he was right—and he was always--hurt. Sylar was an expert on Claire Bennet’s pain. He was intrigued when she only shook her head and said she was glad he was all right.

But she was troubled, as if something had just occurred to her, and Sylar could predict her anger would come out eventually.

Sylar waited, and sure enough, she approached days later.

“I have to know something,” she said.

“From me?”

“From Adam.”

“Go ask him your question,” Sylar suggested, truly wise in his old age.

“It’s not something you can ask but…” She frowned, and looked thoughtful. She had that same ‘I know this is a bad idea’ look on her face yet it was hopeful. “You’re right. It’s time to talk about it.

Sylar would be forever curious what it was. He knew one thing: it had kicked off a huge fight the moment she left Adam’s room.

***

As easily as that, things got worse. Claire had never been the object of Adam’s direct wrath.

Sylar thought they were oversensitive but he could relate on that account.

It started very small, bits of glass in food and mysteriously broken airlocks, and then onto a universe-wide declaration that he’d be doing things his own way. Claire was still in denial that he was even mad at her, while she fought him hard but to no avail. Adam opposed her in subtle ways and finally pushed her to oppose him completely, to the point of even going directly against him. Sylar had known it was a test of limits and so had Claire.

She chose to report his plans.

Then the war began for years. Never had he seen such focus. Immortals were so funny about their wars. Even when Claire tried to avoid him for a year or more, he’d antagonize, and she’d answer back too readily? Sylar understood: there was always the creeping thought that without a purpose, Claire might leave for good. Sylar didn’t think so, personally, but Claire focused on the fight with just as much passion when they had gotten along.

It was the same thing for them. Sylar knew it was to not lose their focus. Claire would get worried when Adam didn’t respond for too long to her attacks. It was complicated and as pointless as it sounds.

It was when the price began to get too high that Claire went to him for peace and Sylar would stay out of it, as per their agreement. This time, however, there were rumors that a group of highly intelligent beings had access to a time machine and Monroe was the one in the company approaching them who showed the most interest.

So she went to talk. Claire came back looked ruffled and furious.

“What happened this time?” Sylar asked.

Claire’s eyes were steely and calm. She ran a hand through her ruined hair. “You know, when my dad died, I wasn’t there. Can you guess why?”

“Because you hid a potential mass murderer and also revealed the nature of our kind to the world.”

Her eyes widened and she did that strange habit of smiling again. “Oh yeah, that.”

Bennet had had his hands full back in the day. Claire was always in some kind of trouble, and Sylar couldn’t imagine worse trouble for her. She reappeared after the reveal with all these political stratagems. Her public enemies always waltzed into scandals, and while Sylar didn’t have faith in people’s cognitive abilities, it didn’t take a genius to realize that she had help. It was surprising, because some of those ideas in her speeches—he would have thought it’d turn the tide against her. It did not. For such a special girl, the risk of showing loyalty to someone like Adam and live forever herself—it spelt out putting her in a cell. Surely she’d be influenced.

Claire turned out as she would have--if she had been alone, perhaps it would have been different.

But as of yet, she cared as little as she did then. She just opposed Adam when she needed to. It drove Sylar mad with disappointment. They had approached him already in their mutual little pact, and Sylar would have destroyed them if he hadn’t been so curious and so bored. Bennet, though, Bennet must have died in complete misery.

One can only hope.

“Okay,” she said simply. “I’ll just have to try a different approach. I can show him how I really feel too. You can just point me in the right direction.”

She was single-minded.

And better yet, hurt again. Sylar put down his book.

“Tell me what you want.”

***

Just as Claire was on her way to run a giant hovercraft into the building, Sylar called Adam.

“Hey,” he said in his old dark voice. “Is this a bad time? Are you too busy to talk?”
Adam seemed not to care. Correction, since Sylar was a stickler for accuracy, he did not care.

“Funny you should mention that,” he said. “I just looked on the screens and saw that the entire building is empty.” He paused. “New trick?”

“I recently added it to my collection.”

Adam chuckled. “This one is impressively humanitarian for you. I supposed something must be coming next. It’s a bit pointless, you see, unless s something else happens.”

“Claire will be there.”

There was a pause and he heard Adam walking around, getting ready. He heard a sword out of a sheath. Sylar rolled his eyes: so old fashioned.

“Some time to day,” Adam said. “I do have dimensions to monitor.”

“And time to jump,” Sylar said.

Adam remained silent but Sylar heard the smile.

“You should see her by now.”

Adam sighed. “Ah, it’s a game. A droll but I’ll humor you and play spot the petite girl. Obvious, if she’s not in the room, she’s—.”

He saw her. The phone dropped. And Sylar got a firm image of Adam in his mind. Claire hadn’t wanted his head to be accidently loped off and that was the only assistance Sylar gave to the man.

Sylar watched from afar as the hovercraft burst into the building with a world-rending crash. It didn’t take long for the building to fall with such velocity of this machine.
Down it went. Sylar watched and looked at all the mechanical flaws in display. Then he wandered closer, taking his time.

***

There was rubble and smoldering beams everywhere, as a massive work was just taken out in 1 minute and 59 seconds.

Sylar looked around, unimpressed. Then he heard the scratching sound. Claire was supposed to have jumped slightly early and she had, landing near the rubble only half buried. She crawled out, her skin blackened and smoking. Her eyes were clear, however, as they darted around.

Claire was always funny this way. Even when she had done the horrible thing, she’d be horrified.

“He’s still trapped under everything?" Claire asked. “I said five minutes!”

“You did. It hasn’t been five minutes,” Sylar said.

She gaped at him and then burst into action. “Help me find him.”

“This is your show,” Sylar teased.

Claire gave him a look, as if he was only teasing. And he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry that we involved you so much,” Claire said, and Sylar swallowed his surprise, wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “We didn’t mean to, it’s all this--.” Claire motioned around. It was an understatement. “Please help me find him.”

Sylar thought he knew what he wanted from all of this now: a question answered. Sylar began to lift various rubble while Claire dug and searched, listening.

Suddenly they heard the second scratching sound and Claire ran towards the sound. A hand appeared, next the arm. Claire grabbed his arm and looked at Sylar.

Sylar lifted a few beams.

Adam emerged, a black dark shape from the ground, a few shades of blue from his suit still showing through. Claire stepped back and opened her mouth, her eyes taking him in.
“You look pitiful,” Adam said first and Claire met his eyes, and they started to laugh.
Sylar thought, you’re kidding. He had never been more disappointed in his life. Well, yes he had, but that couldn’t be it.

“This wasn’t what I wanted,” Claire said.

“I know,” he said. “Look we’ll both get cleaned up and sort this out. But I lost a disk in that fall that was very important. It was some of the Nepton material so it still might have survived the fall.”

Claire looked down at the ground where he had come out of, and started to search around it. Adam reached into the hole and took out the sword. That had survived and Sylar could suddenly see why. He had pretty much stabbed most of the sword into his body before to protect it. Strange technique but it worked.

The sword’s shadow was falling over her.

Don’t turn your back, Sylar thought. Not at her in any form of a power but all to himself. Turn around, turn around, Claire, Claire-

The sword was in the air.

At the last moment, she realized instinctively something was wrong behind her and she dodged, holding up a metal pipe. He had a strong strike, Sylar figured, since he knocked it away easily.

Then they stared at each other, Claire’s face stone again after the initial, and rather unearned, shock.

Then Adam turned and walked away. Claire picked up a small block of debris and threw it at him. It bounced off his shoulder and Adam kept walking unaffected.

“Is that it?” Sylar voiced out loud. Adam looked at him, uninterested and kept walking. Sylar stopped him. Adam looked at him fully now. It wasn’t right.

Where was the purity of it?

“Is what it?” he asked. “I want to go get a shower, if you don’t mind.”

“She buried you with a building.”

“And I was going to slice out her spinal cord but she’s a quick one.” He shrugged. “We have time for that.”

“By walking away, you are admitting she is more evolved than you are.”

Adam stared at him. “She can be evolved,” he said. “I don’t care. This is your idea of evolution, after all.”

He motioned to the wreckage.

“We heard about the time traveling,” Claire said.

Adam looked around. “Ah, and you wish to stop me for whatever your reasons. You have me stopped.”

He meant Sylar but their view of eternity had given just that—a new view of time. He could wait a very long time or…

“We have you stopped,” Sylar said. “But I imagine you still have that machine primed to take you. I’d give it a week.”

Adam shrugged. “You always have interesting theories, Sylar.”

Sylar wanted to see if Claire could handle this possibility, this curve ball. Clearly, she’d have to kill Adam if a machine was going to take him back. They could put him in a box or in a coma but the machine would still take him. There was a reason, too, why most humans couldn’t time travel in machines yet. It was still lethal. He’d come out of the coma or the mind-wipe after he revived.

It was a difficult dilemma.

“You can’t go back in time yet,” Claire said, reasoning through it. Would he go without her? Adam didn’t give her a hint to her unspoken question. She didn’t look worried about herself, however, she was focused on him. “That won’t work.”

“How do you plan on stopping me?” Adam asked.

“You could lock him up with someone with the power to nullify time travel,” Sylar offered.

“No,” Claire said, without hesitation, “that is not an option.”

Adam looked at him, keeping that smile on his face. “I thought you weren’t getting involved.”

“I just offer suggestions. Truly, I don’t care what you do.”

Claire looked over at him. What would she do now? “But if Sylar was to help you, it’d go faster, right?”

Adam nodded, unaffected. “It would go at a faster clip. Don’t doubt that I wouldn’t be able to accomplish it eventually.”

“It would,” Sylar said, smiling to himself. “But I don’t care about your meaningless arguments. It’s old. Archaic.”

“But you are hers,” Adam said, and Sylar considered the logic of it. Yes, he owed Claire more. She, for whatever the feeling was, reminded him, and in some ways, he was still guilty over what he had done. It was a debt he couldn’t repay.

“But you care more about evolution and purpose,” Claire said. “Here’s a bet: we fight and then Sylar helps whoever wins. If I lose, you go back in time, and if I win, Sylar helps me find your machine and stop it. You can figure it out, right?” she asked Sylar.

Sylar thought it through, added up the odds and the clues he could intuit. “Yes, I could.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Adam said suddenly. “If you win, I’ll show you the machine myself.” He had the sword in his hand. “And Sylar and I will go back together. Agreed?”

Sylar didn’t mind the thought of going back home especially if no one knew he was there. He had always wanted to see himself from a distance anyway, and Adam cared as much about meaning as he did. But Claire had a point. This would be a great exercise in showing superiority of power. He’d play by the rules.

She did this to herself. Strange girl that she was (and standing here, she thought she was the normal one, still), she didn’t appear bothered as she watched Adam closely. What was she thinking?

“I can live with that,” Sylar said. “You’re thinking of a new world again?”

“I’m pondering it,” Adam said, smiling at him. “After a quick duel, I’ll probably come to my decision.”

Sylar nodded, liking those odds.

“I have one more condition,” Claire said. They all waited. “If I win, you come back with us.”

Sylar wondered why Claire put herself into these situations and he wondered why she made such emotional pleas when the conversation had gone to a place that didn’t fit her or include her. She didn't seem to register it, as if such a thing could never be for her, and it was maddening.

Adam didn’t miss a beat, and Sylar had to admire the reflex.

“Agreed,” Adam said. “Now to make this quick…”

Sylar stepped back, and Adam wasted no time.

He rushed Claire who ran back towards where she had jumped clear. Sylar knew Adam was the best at the sword, no amount of training could match his pure experience. Claire hadn’t faced those kind of battles but she did know other weapons.

Like the laser gun she was running for—Claire had brought a bag of weapons, just in case. It probably wasn’t the fairest situation—survival wasn’t fair. In his mind, he had already written Adam off. There goes his new world reintroduction.

Claire reached the bag and drew out the gun. She fired with a sure hand but Adam didn’t dodge or hesitate. Instead he threw his sword at her, and he was a good sure hand too. It impaled her arm to her side and she gasped, unable to raise the gun again. He had taken the hit in his arm but he didn’t even pause, only stumbling from the lack of balance for a second.

Claire’s eyes widened then narrowed, apparently unwilling to be taken out within a minute and a half.

She kicked her foot into the bag and a hover skateboard came to life. She skillfully jumped on and went to rise above him. Firing then wouldn’t be a problem, if she aimed properly. Adam was still running at her, and while she went up, he leapt—

And grabbed the board. She pushed it on full blast, heading towards the dangerous atmosphere—if she could make it, it’d be impressive and if she could turn the boards protective mechanisms, Adam would be done…and Sylar decided to fly up himself to join them. Claire struggled to maintain balance in pursuit of her goal. Adam had great upper arm strength—all those years of weight lifting. He fearlessly pulled the sword from her arm and she had to drop the gun and grab on to the board to keep from falling.

Not that it did any good.

Adam pulled with all his weight and the board nosedived towards the rubble again. Claire tried to speed it up, gun it in such a way that it’d be used as a weapon, but it was out of control by then. Claire jumped free but he grabbed her leg and took her with him.

This was the important part of their mile and miles high of flight. Whoever was on the bottom of that fall would lose.

Sylar frowned and did a modification on the ground. He lifted up a very sharp beam. Fitness also depends on alertness at all times. Claire spotted it first and gasped. It was a good sign that she noticed it but that she alerted her enemy was just dumb.
Adam twisted easily in the air, holding her firm. He meant to impale her. She hit him with all she had, and Sylar thought this was pretty set. He expected Claire would do some drastic, like grab Adam hard, but Sylar knew that wouldn’t even save her.
“That edge could take off my head!” she hissed, eyes wide, and while Sylar thought—of course not, Adam lost his focus for one second too long.

She flipped him and now Sylar thought it was set.

At the last possible moment, she pushed him away from her. They landed on either side of the beam, their bones snapping and Claire coughed up blood that ran through her neck as one white sliver poked through. Adam was gathering an organ and then discarded it. Sylar looked at it, identifying it as a kidney. They were bean-shaped, by the way.
One eye was loose and he pushed it back in, and grabbed at his sword.

Sylar snapped his fingers in frustration. He had been looking forward to the possibility of them being a shish kabob.

“Stay out of it,” Claire said to Sylar, through her missing teeth, and then ran at Adam who was already on his feet, snapping his shoulders back into place, organ regrown.
“That was a mistake,” Adam said, and he had raised his sword. Claire leapt and got directly in the swing path of his arm. Ah, Sylar got it now! Claire had not made too much of a mistake in the long run. She was good at defense and Adam himself had taught her a technique to use her opponent’s body strength against them. She was one of the best at blocking strikes and Adam couldn’t risk stepping back to swing his sword or his fists.
Adam snarled and showed his frustration, a rare moment, as he tried to hit her and found her own limbs in the way. She blocked and blocked, and there was a strategy emerging.

Then Adam smiled.

“All right,” he said, breathing easily, as they seemed to dance close to each other. “We’ll see who has the best endurance.”

Claire looked worried that he had caught on that quickly without making a mistake.
Sylar would have been upset at this turn of events. They could go for a long time.
He had been in there with them quite a bit—and it counted for him too, only he hadn’t built up his body strength—that had been their endless quest. Their muscles could build up increasingly without even appearing so, such was the nature of their ability. They were both hitting hard. Though Adam had centuries on her, she had been rigorous about her training.

They could hit hard enough to quite literally break each other’s faces. It just was a matter of who made a mistake, whose mind wandered, or just luck.

He would have been upset if he hadn’t been so entertained.

***

“Sylar,” Adam said casually.

He looked up from the fire in his hands, waiting.

“Do you have the time?”

Claire didn’t talk during the fight, she focused solely on the task at hand. Adam turned out to be very conversational.

“It’s three in the morning earth time,” he said, helpful.

“Oh I thought it was earlier,” Adam said blithely.

Claire huffed and puffed and was probably tempted to wonder how she had gotten herself into this mess. It was all in her head, that breathing. It was dark, and hard to see and harder not to stumble. Sylar would have to be fair: he had thought she’d fold by now, just from the stress. Adam had endured years of imprisonment longer and time—alone— infinitely longer. In fact, now that he thought about it, Claire had had Adam within a year or so.

With all that in mind--Sylar had thought Claire would fold. She had not.

Yet.

“I was going to say it was so early it was late.”

“I hate that turn of phrase,” Sylar said. “It offends me with its subjective reasoning.”
Adam smiled. “Perhaps we can ban it.”

Sylar was content with the potential here. They went for several more hours when Claire asked, “What-time-is it?”

Adam narrowed his eyes, kept his pace.

“Seven in the morning, earth time.”

She nodded, and Adam used the motion to get his foot under hers. Sylar straightened up. Adam looked as though he was going to give a crushing blow to her neck, knocking her out and therefore winning the bet.

That was before Claire exploded.

Promptly.

Sylar blinked. Well. That…

Adam sat up coughing, his hair blown back this time, and he had to adjust his neck to the more proper position. “What in the bloody hell?”

Claire twisted forward and crawled to her feet.

“Remember that locket from the planet where the stones monitored your body heat?”

Sylar stared at her.

“It’s dangerous because if you run for a while as a human…well…but they said no one could move for that long so it was safe.”

Claire smiled proudly. Adam jumped to his feet, snarling again, and Sylar thought he saw a bit of who he was in the beginning of time—he was mad.
Claire ran.

And kept running.

Adam ran after her.

Sylar sighed and took to the sky. Evolutionary imperative never used to take this long.

***

There was one solid day of running.

Claire couldn’t even afford to turn her head. She was a short little girl after all, petite and small, and leg span mattered. But she took step after step, and managed to keep ahead, just out of reach of his impressive throwing arm. Barely. One slip or turn of her head and she’d be in range again and weaponless. Regenerating limbs wouldn’t be anything against a sword—and Sylar smiled at the images of her arm being used as a weapon. She was probably desperate enough at this point.

She did have one advantage. Her lack of pain compared to Adam’s ability to still feel something. In direct battle, it didn’t matter, but over this harsh hot burning terrain for hours, Adam had this pissed off look on his face. Claire ran without care.

Sylar didn’t want to interfere too much but he did create the occasional rain storm which on this planet, translated to acid. Light acid. But acid. He blocked the flow with his telekinesis and watched them slog through it. Claire did better there too, just shaking her head to clear her vision.

Adam’s face was a mask of irritation at this point.

She kept her pace ahead.

Sylar wanted it to pour but while they were whittling down, he wanted some action—still. He was starting to have to know the outcome for its own sake.
***

They started to hit the civilization.

They were pretty shameless: Sylar dressed for these occasions. He heard all the noises, of those seemingly impossibly fast transportation. Claire swerved because she heard what he heard and saw from a distance.

One of those impossibly fast transports. She needed time, Sylar knew that, and if she could make it there and jump ahead of it, she’d buy it. These transports were long.
Adam heard it too and started to move faster. Impressive on its own but the funny little thing about these transports was the way you could get sucked into the engine if you weren’t careful. Adam was chasing Claire but he started to slow down despite his will to kill her. Adam never liked the unpredictable, never truly. Claire was a train-jumper, from what Sylar heard, and she ran towards the transport with more inner certainty of her survival than she had at anything else.

Claire ran and ran and just when he thought she’d make it, the transport on the edge of the city was upon them –trapping her—

She jumped anyway.

Half of her got lost. Adam threw his arms up in the air, looking up at Sylar bewildered and as shocked as Adam managed to look these days—oh was he asking if she had not just bit off more than she could chew?

“She’s still in the running,” Sylar said, calmly. She was.

The important half of her made it. She landed at an angle, thrown into the air, and Adam stopped, blocked by the transport. Sylar watched her grow back, legs spinning and cracking out. Claire was raising her head. She needed a weapon.

But this planet was peaceful if you didn’t count the hovercraft used as a weapon. Even basic ideas like electricity—she once in sparring tricked Adam into striking her while she had a current in her, which—was amusing. It had been a fun moment at the least. The energy current here was un-lethal for the surprising half. She looked at her palm and twisted it so—Sylar wondered what she had hidden.

Sometimes they carried weapons inside of them for perversity. She had already lost one hand in the crash. If she had the gun arm, she could wait while she grew, probably could still by half on the ground, and fire at an overeager Adam—

Who wasn’t risking falling for such a trick.

Adam had moved to the narrow side of the road. He wasn’t one to leap before he looked. It could be a super strength glove. Something small that could make you temporarily hover. One poison dart that could evaporate the water out of your body. But…

Any small weapon there was gone for them, they had burnt each other from the explosion too badly. Adam had lost both his hands in the collapse of the building, Sylar had heard them crush—not like he was listening or anything. She twisted her wrist while her body regenerated and Sylar saw a small honing beacon. She could summon a weapon and that was what she was doing, using the time she managed to stay still—Sylar counted…it’d be close but she could summon it. It would take a few hours to physically arrive.

She sighed and pressed it, getting to her feet and finding a welcoming banner and tearing it off to wrap around her. Modesty took time. The transport was almost over.

She wasn’t too good at hiding either. Sylar could testify. Claire looked towards the dense outbreak of curving forests outside the city. If she went towards the city, she could buy time and find something to surprise him with—though other beings could interfere. Sylar wouldn’t allow it. Claire had managed to kill herself and that didn’t count. Neither would involving a lynch mob on the other. It would be them and them alone.
If—she went towards the woods. Little ability to even scamper away.

Sylar tilted his head. Adam got around the transport, his eyes scanning the environment—then he smiled and looked up at Sylar.

Sylar did try to look vague but it had been clear where his attention had been.

Adam heard towards the strange vegetation.
***

Claire was being very, very quiet.

And doing something very, very different. Along the way, she was gathering rocks. What looked like rocks. She was also wasting time and she didn’t even know it. Claire should consider her age and background. Adam was navigating through this field of wilderness better than she was and tracking her. There was another element: Adam always made sure to know little details. If you stepped a certain way on this vegetation, you’d leave marks. He was always thorough like that.

Claire, Claire. Time was running down—or was it? She had summoned a weapon. Sylar looked at where Adam was, walking quietly for a grown man. Yes, time was running out. He doubted it’d get here before she’d have to fight him hand to hand and try to win that way, purely through offensive. She’d try. She’d have a chance. But Adam usually won those matches. Sometimes he didn’t…sometimes he did.

She suddenly flinched, and Sylar narrowed down his vision, seeing through the brush. Claire Bennet had just been bitten by a serpent-like creature.

A big serpent.

It was bright sickly orange and her face started to blacken—well, that’s more precious time lost, Sylar noticed, as puss dripped down from her ears. She—

She grabbed the snake, tightening her grip, and her face narrowed again, turned its normal color. She held on to the snake, which after a moment, stopped hissing in her tight grip, its tail wrapped around her arm.

Claire took her small gathering of rocks in her stained muddy welcome banner and the snake and started to climb.

She waited.

Adam paused at the clearing. No doubt he knew she was waiting. He pretended to circle the tree, and Sylar could tell Claire was surprised in how quickly he had been upon her. She looked at the snake in her hand and first dropped the bag of rocks. Adam sliced through them easily, even avoiding any rocks in his eyes—but the snake was a different story.
The snake was obviously an aggressive breed, the way it tore into him. Claire didn’t waste any time and jumped on top of him, kicking his sword away. Adam, his face blackened and the snake still on his shoulder with its jaw, didn’t let her near the sword. He brought up his foot and took her down, and Claire turned to fight offensively with her advantage.

It was interesting. Sylar had been judging all by if they ‘completely’ killed the other.

A full legally dead kind of thing—the snake was giving him hell. If he did drop off, Sylar would have to give this to Claire—

No, he tore the snake off his arm and threw it into the bushes, and his face started to return to its normal color as well. Claire gave her all. She managed to kick in a head snapping kick to the jaw, and while he swung, she grabbed his arm and got it up behind him, grinning. She was…getting ready to break his nose into his head, most likely and-
Adam twisted his entire body in a move that could only be a contortion, and breaking his arm that Claire held in the process, hit her dead in the face. It was almost a knock-out and Claire stumbled back and went for the sword again.

He used his own momentum and knocked her down before she could get there and quickly pinned her efficiently. He pushed her head into the mud—Sylar began to count her heartbeats…this was it. This was-

Adam let her head up. Sylar groaned.

“You tried very hard,” Adam said. “It was a much better fight than I would have imagined. I admit I should have imagined this—but the outcome is still the same.”

Possibly frying your brain, Sylar thought to himself. That outcome.

Claire struggled.

“There’s nothing you can do. Nothing you can say that will avert your fate.”

At that moment, Claire frowned, a curious expression on her muddy face.

“Adam, something just grabbed me.”

“You actually think that would work. And besides I don’t even know what you mean-.”

The ground began to suck her under. She jerked in surprise. Adam recoiled.

“A little help?!” Claire said, and Adam lunged for her. Then he started to get sucked in.
Sylar couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. Now this was interesting: he’d say it was quick sand but it was almost as if the ground was sampling them. Sylar watched as they struggled and then were suddenly released. They looked confused.

So was he. Then he heard the sounds of paws on the ground. Ah, this system was conservative. The flora and fauna worked together to identify if something was edible and nutritious.

The small wolf –like creatures burst into their view and they, like true immortals, began to run.

He honestly wondered why two gods could be torn apart by your most basic threats like a pack of wild …dogs.

It made you question so much.

***

Adam killed most of them when they reached the clearing.

Claire, however, did kill one when it leapt at her arm. When it had bitten her, she had gone with the motion and she basically crushed its throat with her knee. They did a good job killing oh…the things they weren’t supposed to.

They were breathing heavily –psychosomatic—and they met each other’s eyes. Then they remembered and Claire started to run again.
Sylar hated the universe.

***

Adam ran her down much more quickly, taking advantage of the terrain.

She was cornered now, and Adam approached confidently. She looked around for something to fight with while preparing to try defense all over again. Sylar would bet Adam would strike her from a distance before she could.

Sylar frowned as he heard something falling towards him. He dodged and saw that Claire’s transport had arrived.

Oh, he couldn’t be mad about it. More blood. Claire’s face lit up as it landed near her.

What would the weapon be? An electric strike stick? Adam’s face was deadpan, ready.
She took out a boring old sword.

“You just beat the crap out of me for days,” Claire said. “So I’m not going to feel bad when I destroy you in a sword fight.”

Adam shook his head. “My dear, you’re not going to be feeling anything at all.”

Then he rushed her.

She didn't bother to put out the flames from her transport. It added some lovely blackened damage to the scene as the clang of metal reached his ears.

This fight was much more colorful than their ones from before—and from ever. He wasn’t sure but it was the frantic slashing that seemed to make them blood more profusely. Blood was staining the ground, and they had already given each other fatal wounds to no avail.
This would take a while and Sylar was going to love every minute. However, there was a problem. They seemed to like it too—in an inappropriate way. It was just in their eyes, and if they were actually having some kind of ‘work through issues’ fight or finding some enjoyment here, Sylar would not be pleased.

They fought and fought, the metal of the swords clashing, and Sylar noticed something. Adam was inching towards the metal pieces—he was going to try for it.

He lunged and threw one towards her. It embedded in her shoulder and she blinked. Adam was on her too quickly for her to remove it.

Another nice strategy. She’d continue to bleed out if the wound was kept open by a jagged, moving arm.

Half an hour, and it began to take its toll on Claire. Her frustration was showing, her anger clear in her eyes, but she kept her face calm and she didn’t answer any of his mocking questions.

Adam slipped. Claire took advantage and aimed loped the arm off. It had taken a long time for her to build up the strength to do that but it had paid off. Adam however foresaw the move—and did something creative.

Adam did something creative. He half threw the sword and grabbed the sword in his teeth while Claire took his arm.

Now you have to give credit where credit is due. Sylar gave a small golf clap. Claire’s eyes even widened but she kept swinging, clipping his side and drawing an immense amount of blood. Not enough.

His arm was back and they were at it again.

Adam might have this one. In fact, Sylar was certain of it now.

Yes, here were beginnings of the killing stroke. Claire’s body stumbled, weak from constant blood loss along with her injuries, and Adam first knocked the sword from her hand. He looked her in the eyes, ablaze with his victory, when something happened to Claire.

Perhaps it was the four days of fighting. The woods had taken a day of hiding and the running had inched in and now the fighting for hours. Something about all of that—made the knowledge of what was about to happen force her into action.

Claire threw herself upon the sword as Adam thrust it forward, impaling her body neatly, and with a furious look, she punched Adam hard in the face, giving her wrist the momentum upward on his nose. He fell backwards, and Claire drew the sword out of her, her body trembling and pieces of flesh and organs and chips of bone went everywhere, but she lunged anyway, her teeth bared and her eyes alight.

She pinned Adam to the ground with his sword and put her foot on his throat.

Sylar’s mouth opened but then again he shouldn’t have been surprised…yet something was amiss. Something was off-tick. Had Adam cost himself this by underestimating, by wanting time for just a look beforehand?
Sylar sighed. That was not efficient.

Claire had him and she had her foot cutting off his windpipe. Soon he’d be legally-
She took her foot off his windpipe. Sylar put his hand on his forehead. “Come on, that’s ridiculous!”

Claire didn’t look up at him. Instead she seemed to have reached a decision.

“I don’t have to do this. I won’t kill you. I won’t take your life for nothing.”

Again, Sylar mentally added mockingly.

“Of course you won’t,” Adam said. A brilliant point, Sylar would note. Claire frowned.
“It’s not the same,” she said and pulled the sword out. “Our lives...they’ve become just a wager. What we do is a bet,” She looked at Adam, her eyes very sad. Sylar even paused in his bloodlust. After a while, Adam reached out and something in his face made Sylar pause. He actually looked affected by her words.

They embraced and Sylar rolled his eyes. Days wasted and no goal-

Snap.

And that was what was amiss. Sylar lowered himself to the ground, counting. Adam kept Claire’s neck broken, his face expressionless, her hair falling over his arm. Sylar looked at her still hands, palms facing towards him.

“You do realize that it took longer for the two of you to kill each other than it took some household accidents.”

Adam didn’t smile at him: it was if he didn't feel a victory at all. “What is your verdict?”

“Wait a bit longer.”

Adam did.

“To the victor goes the spoils. It was Claire’s own idea.”

Adam looked down at her. “How could I forget?” As if it had been a cruel idea.

Sylar could not explain that girl still, even with his inside knowledge. He remembered that Adam first met him on a revenge streak. Good times and yet here he was, alive.
Strange, strange girl. He felt almost bad about the whole thing. Oh well.

She came back, gasping, and looked between them. Adam held her close and here’s the odd part: she didn’t struggle. Sylar narrowed his eyes but he couldn’t see her face.

“Congratulations. We’ll be going back in time under our own control.” He brushed the hair out of Claire’s face. “Perhaps we should call on your father.”

And they actually sat there in the moment, and Sylar saw this old-new plan fading fast as if it had never been there. Now…

Sylar did not understand, and it frustrated him. Nothing frustrated him more. He should cut their brains out and put them in a jar because in Sylar’s long and experienced opinion, they were both insane and his fingers itched. He wanted to force them into true fight to the death, and he was close to saying it. So close.
But not yet.

He would watch and understand much more in the long run. A deal was a deal, and besides he had all the time in the world.

Sylar smiled. “Tell me what I have to do.”