Most memories faded. Some, within days. Some, even within minutes. The first time that Claire had hurt her hand, back during that scuffle with Jackie, all she remembered of that was red. The first time she'd shown Zach what she could do, all she could remember was the feeling of falling, like a bird who'd lost its wings, panic rising and escaping in her through a scream. Driving Brody into a wall had been rage. Escaping from Sylar in the school, that had been terror. But what Claire remembered of that night, when she'd taken her leap off of the Compound, was just Edmund. The look in his eyes, at least twice as terrified as her own, and the sound of his voice, thin and shaking. Watching him step into the room seemed to reinforce all of that. She pressed her lips together, not saying a word, merely watching as he sat himself right down next to her bed, probably more loyal of a friend than she deserved.

Stifling the sob that rose in her throat, Claire reached a hand out, wondering if he'd take it. "I'm... so sorry," she managed to choke out, face flushed from the effort. "It won't happen again. I swear."