[ On the one hand, she feels sort of powerless to stop whatever change is going to take place as a result of what and who she is. It's like looking down the barrel of a loaded gun and knowing without fail that the person on the other end is going to pull the trigger. On the other, looking at herself from the outside, Claire can't ever imagine not caring about something. It's the not knowing what that will be in a hundred years that worries her.

But that's in a hundred years. Maybe she'll get to the point where it passes in the blink of an eye, but not today. Probably not tomorrow either. Right now, minutes linger on and hours not spent shrugging off earned exhaustion feel limitless. ]

I know I've changed since this whole thing started. Not the dreaming episodes or the ship or anything. This whole special powers thing. I'm not the same person that I was three years ago. I think if me then looked at me now, and vice versa, we wouldn't recognize each other. I'm not totally ungrateful for it. I was always just a victim, then. So maybe that means I am getting jaded. Desensitized. I know that after a certain line was crossed, everything else that happened didn't compare. [ No matter how brutal the violence, nothing is ever going to be as invasive on so many levels as what Sylar did to her was. ] I like to think that I'm a long way off from not giving a damn, so maybe it doesn't mean jaded, just different, I guess.