Ted was not looking forward to meeting another person from his world. Given how Isaac had reacted, he had since concluded to lie low. But then that damned cheerleader had to be so... eager to meet him. And for what reason? Last time they saw each other, they were escaping New York and he was captured. Their first meeting had been worse: he'd blown up their house.

Prior to her knock at his door, Ted had been looking in a small mirror. He was checking for any scar from the tranquilizer she'd stuck him with. He could find none, though the Company's tattoos still remained.

Finally he answered. "Yeah, it's me. Happy now?" He said and then after a pause, during which he could almost mentally hear Karen scolding him for his rudeness, he added "Hi, by the way."

Ted sighed heavily, feeling like the biggest jerk all of a sudden. She'd come over to say hi for whatever reason and he'd acted like an old geezer yelling at kids to get off his lawn.

Great way to greet the neighbors, he thought. No, really. Why not stab her next time? Or kick Mr. Muggles? Then he wondered if Mr. Muggles was even here. That's not the point, he mentally scolded himself. Oh shut up. He decided to stop talking to himself. All in his head, but still.

"No, look, I'm... sorry." he finally said aloud before she could walk off. "I'm just not used to talking with people, not really, and the last time I met with someone, it didn't go well."

He chuckled lightly when she mentioned their history. Well, yeah. Breaking and entering into your home and threatening to kill your mother isn't usually the best foundation for a relationship.

"The last thing I remember was Sylar," Ted replied and briefly glanced away. He was still pissed at that. The fact that the bastard was here didn't help in the slightest. He took a calming breath then continued, glancing up at her. "Before that, we were in New York with your dad, Matt, and... Peter, I think his name was, right?"

"Yeah. I know about him. Isaac told me." He tried to keep the tone light, but it was impossible. "The painter seemed perfectly fucking happy that our murderer is on board. Doesn't make any sense to me after what that bastard tried to do to a whole city."

First Isaac, now Claire. Both said how much Sylar has changed, how he's a better person. Ted heard the words, but couldn't grasp the concept.

"Sorry if I'm a little hesitant to believe he's changed," he said sarcastically, not apologetic in the least. "But the last I remember of him, he was slicing my head off. So I'm just the slightest bitter." A pause. "Two years? Are you serious?"

He only nodded in response to her statement. Yes, he had died, and he hadn't realized how much time he'd remained that way before the Admiral had a chat with him. At least he thinks it had been a chat. It was difficult to remember. When she reached out, he allowed the touch. He wasn't afraid of her, and somehow, knew she meant well.

"So he's trying. Good for him." He said with a roll of his eyes. But he had listened to her. The ship was all about redemption. Maybe Sylar was trying to find that. It was impossible to say. "Three years? I've been dead a while, then." This he said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood just a bit. Or at least stop talking about Sylar. Then, "Who's Nathan?"

The distinctive name change was noticed, but not questioned. It was odd hearing Bennet's first name. The man was wound tighter than a ten day clock. He always seemed in control. Certainly never told either of them - Parkman or himself - his first name or.. well, much of anything, really.

"No I don't, not yet. Kinda nervous about the whole thing. How about you?" A half-hearted shrug as he leaned back against the wall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Graduate anyone yet?"