Claire Bennet (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
its_notabigdeal) wrote2011-04-08 09:57 pm
its_notabigdeal) wrote2011-04-08 09:57 pm
self-inflicted exhile } { oh my fair North Star, I have held to you dearly
[![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heroslayer is used with permission while Peter is an NPC because ... well, yeah.]
Peter Petrelli is dead.
Claire isn’t even sure when it happens, but it does.
One minute, he’s standing right there in front of her, and the next he’s gone, scattered into the tiniest of pieces across the room. His blood hangs in the air like a fine mist that catches in her mouth and weighs heavy and coppery against his tongue. She can’t even make a sound when it happens because it’s all too fast. There’s no warning she can issue, nothing she can say. It’s just—over.
Odessa is where it began and Odessa is where it ends.
Peter is dead.
In one fraction of a second, her family is gone.
***
It's fifty years after she takes their powers public that they’re approached.
It’s probably the biggest mistake she’s ever made, but they’re living with it. Her, Peter … Sylar. The balance is tentative and most of the time Claire doesn’t trust him, but Peter holds them together. He reminds them why they have their abilities, why they do the things they do. For a while they hide. They bury who they are so far down that sometimes Claire forgets, or can delude herself into believing she’s normal for a little while.
Then Peter will do something … heroic. She’ll have to give him her ability, and they’ll relocate and start from square one all over again. Peter can never seem to hold on to her power for long. It’s a thing with him. He takes advantage of what’s in front of him, and she always jokes that one day, that’s going to get him killed.
Years go by, and one day, a man in a suit tracks them down and makes them an offer. The government needs people with powers to help police the people with powers. Claire’s revelation all those years ago sent most of them into hiding, but there are some that use it to their advantage. They terrorize. The government feels that people could stand to learn a lesson from the master.
They’re hesitant. Sylar’s been driving the hard road to redemption for almost as long as Claire has been with them, and placing him back in that line of temptation is dangerous. But redemption takes risk, and risk often comes with reward. They agree.
Their handler is stiff, but friendly, and the way he speaks reminds her of her father. At first, the missions are easy. People with abilities like Elle’s, or Meredith’s, just looking to cause damage more than actual evil being present. Slowly, the three of them become a team. A well oiled machine that does more good for the world than they could have dreamed of doing in their past fifty years of hiding. They were heroes. Maybe they didn’t have a cape, or wear tights. Maybe aren’t the grand scale heroes of comic book lore, but they help, and they believe that that, one way or another, has to count for something.
And more than anything else, they are a family. They’re all that each other has left, and for once, the world seems to be a bit more of a welcoming place.
***
Johan Resnick is not their average target.
His ability is destructive in a way no one can anticipate. Everything he touches simply disintegrates in his hands. All it takes is a bit of bare skin contact, a small puff of an explosion, and whatever it was is gone. Resnick is a terrorist, and his attacks are pointed and messy, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake that makes Claire sick to her stomach. She’s almost a hundred years-old and has seen the worst that the world has to offer, but the way Resnick strikes stirs something in her that she thought she has gotten past.
She blames Peter.
He holds onto his humanity like a coveted piece of gold, clinging to it like it’s the last good thing in his life. It’s so easy for Claire to just shut it all off, to tell herself that in a hundred years, they’ll all be dead and she’ll still be there, but Peter reminds her what it’s like to smile. He reminds her how to be happy, how to love again, and she holds on to those parts of herself for him. She tells herself that he’s doing it for her and Sylar, so they don’t go cold like the rest of the world seems to, but she knows that that’s wrong. That humanity is who Peter is. She’s scared of the person he’d be without it.
It takes them three months to find Resnick, and when they do, they corner him in an empty warehouse not far from Odessa, Texas. She doesn’t even realize that’s where they are until they pass the sign on the way in to town. The town has changed so much she barely even recognizes it, but there’s something about it that still feels like home. It brings a smile to her face while she’s working a case where she shouldn’t be smiling, and it feels good. At least for a little while.
She and Peter take point and go through the front door, while Sylar goes around the back. Peter is always with Claire, just in case he needs her ability after doing something … heroic. Peter always teases her that he doesn’t need a babysitter—up until he gets hurt and needs her to heal him all over again. They’re slowly making their way through each of the rooms, and it takes Clare a minute to register the fact that she knows where they are. She knows exactly where they are.
“This is Primatech.”
Not the original building, no. Not the one that Meredith blew up when Sylar dosed her with adrenaline. But it is still Primatech, a company building that was rebuilt in its place so that they could continue to do the work they did. Angela never had been one to give up without a fight, and Claire knows that in the end, the Company did as much good as they did harm. Being back in those walls, though, brings back a flood of memories she hasn’t even thought about in years. It reminds her of a simpler time—a time when she felt a little more human.
“It is?” Peter glances around, following her eyes to try and find the familiar indicators, lowering his weapon for all of a moment. It takes him a minute before recognition follows, and he smiles. “Wow. Funny the things that last.”
She nods for a moment, before looking over at him with a smirk, moving ahead with her gun poised. “You know, we first met in this town. All three of us.” She then makes a face. “If you had told me back then that I’d be used to sharing a car with Sylar, let alone living with him? I probably would have called you crazy.”
Peter laughs. “Things do have a way of working out for the best, don’t they?”
She’s quiet for a moment, before a small smile crosses her face, and she nods. “Yeah. I guess they do.”
They come up on the door where Resnick is holed up, and Peter puts a finger to his lips, before signaling that he would go in first. He always went first. It is his way of protecting her, even though he knows she doesn’t need it. She nods, and he pauses, before kicking down the door and making her way inside. He angles right, and she goes left. Her side of the room is clear, and just as she turns to check on him, she sees him.
“Peter, look—”
She can’t even finish the sentence, before Peter is just gone. The only evidence anything has happened lies in the fine red mist that now covers her completely. She has gotten used to wearing her own blood—it comes with her ability—but the feel of someone else’s is foreign and uncomfortable. The smell of it alone is enough to make her sick, and she can feel the bile rising in her throat.
“Don’t you all know by now,” Resnick says slowly, starting to advance on her as he pulls the other glove from his hand. All it had taken was one touch. One touch to kill one of the few people in her life she had left, and she wants to hurt him, but she can’t even bring herself to raise the gun in her hand. It suddenly feels like a hundred pound weight, and she’s frozen in place, unable to move. “It never pays to be the hero.” He’s telling that to the wrong member of their merry band.
Claire learned that a long time ago.
Doesn’t stop her from trying anyway.
There’s something in the way he says it that snaps her out of it, and the gun is suddenly up and firing. It’s two solid shots to his shoulder that aren’t quite fatal, but enough to blow him away from her and has him stumbling to the ground. The panic has passed, and now all that’s left is rage. She keeps the gun poised in front of her, a heavy glare on her face, as she advances on him.
“Stay still. This is going to hurt.”
1551 words
heroslayer is used with permission while Peter is an NPC because ... well, yeah.]Peter Petrelli is dead.
Claire isn’t even sure when it happens, but it does.
One minute, he’s standing right there in front of her, and the next he’s gone, scattered into the tiniest of pieces across the room. His blood hangs in the air like a fine mist that catches in her mouth and weighs heavy and coppery against his tongue. She can’t even make a sound when it happens because it’s all too fast. There’s no warning she can issue, nothing she can say. It’s just—over.
Odessa is where it began and Odessa is where it ends.
Peter is dead.
In one fraction of a second, her family is gone.
***
It's fifty years after she takes their powers public that they’re approached.
It’s probably the biggest mistake she’s ever made, but they’re living with it. Her, Peter … Sylar. The balance is tentative and most of the time Claire doesn’t trust him, but Peter holds them together. He reminds them why they have their abilities, why they do the things they do. For a while they hide. They bury who they are so far down that sometimes Claire forgets, or can delude herself into believing she’s normal for a little while.
Then Peter will do something … heroic. She’ll have to give him her ability, and they’ll relocate and start from square one all over again. Peter can never seem to hold on to her power for long. It’s a thing with him. He takes advantage of what’s in front of him, and she always jokes that one day, that’s going to get him killed.
Years go by, and one day, a man in a suit tracks them down and makes them an offer. The government needs people with powers to help police the people with powers. Claire’s revelation all those years ago sent most of them into hiding, but there are some that use it to their advantage. They terrorize. The government feels that people could stand to learn a lesson from the master.
They’re hesitant. Sylar’s been driving the hard road to redemption for almost as long as Claire has been with them, and placing him back in that line of temptation is dangerous. But redemption takes risk, and risk often comes with reward. They agree.
Their handler is stiff, but friendly, and the way he speaks reminds her of her father. At first, the missions are easy. People with abilities like Elle’s, or Meredith’s, just looking to cause damage more than actual evil being present. Slowly, the three of them become a team. A well oiled machine that does more good for the world than they could have dreamed of doing in their past fifty years of hiding. They were heroes. Maybe they didn’t have a cape, or wear tights. Maybe aren’t the grand scale heroes of comic book lore, but they help, and they believe that that, one way or another, has to count for something.
And more than anything else, they are a family. They’re all that each other has left, and for once, the world seems to be a bit more of a welcoming place.
***
Johan Resnick is not their average target.
His ability is destructive in a way no one can anticipate. Everything he touches simply disintegrates in his hands. All it takes is a bit of bare skin contact, a small puff of an explosion, and whatever it was is gone. Resnick is a terrorist, and his attacks are pointed and messy, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake that makes Claire sick to her stomach. She’s almost a hundred years-old and has seen the worst that the world has to offer, but the way Resnick strikes stirs something in her that she thought she has gotten past.
She blames Peter.
He holds onto his humanity like a coveted piece of gold, clinging to it like it’s the last good thing in his life. It’s so easy for Claire to just shut it all off, to tell herself that in a hundred years, they’ll all be dead and she’ll still be there, but Peter reminds her what it’s like to smile. He reminds her how to be happy, how to love again, and she holds on to those parts of herself for him. She tells herself that he’s doing it for her and Sylar, so they don’t go cold like the rest of the world seems to, but she knows that that’s wrong. That humanity is who Peter is. She’s scared of the person he’d be without it.
It takes them three months to find Resnick, and when they do, they corner him in an empty warehouse not far from Odessa, Texas. She doesn’t even realize that’s where they are until they pass the sign on the way in to town. The town has changed so much she barely even recognizes it, but there’s something about it that still feels like home. It brings a smile to her face while she’s working a case where she shouldn’t be smiling, and it feels good. At least for a little while.
She and Peter take point and go through the front door, while Sylar goes around the back. Peter is always with Claire, just in case he needs her ability after doing something … heroic. Peter always teases her that he doesn’t need a babysitter—up until he gets hurt and needs her to heal him all over again. They’re slowly making their way through each of the rooms, and it takes Clare a minute to register the fact that she knows where they are. She knows exactly where they are.
“This is Primatech.”
Not the original building, no. Not the one that Meredith blew up when Sylar dosed her with adrenaline. But it is still Primatech, a company building that was rebuilt in its place so that they could continue to do the work they did. Angela never had been one to give up without a fight, and Claire knows that in the end, the Company did as much good as they did harm. Being back in those walls, though, brings back a flood of memories she hasn’t even thought about in years. It reminds her of a simpler time—a time when she felt a little more human.
“It is?” Peter glances around, following her eyes to try and find the familiar indicators, lowering his weapon for all of a moment. It takes him a minute before recognition follows, and he smiles. “Wow. Funny the things that last.”
She nods for a moment, before looking over at him with a smirk, moving ahead with her gun poised. “You know, we first met in this town. All three of us.” She then makes a face. “If you had told me back then that I’d be used to sharing a car with Sylar, let alone living with him? I probably would have called you crazy.”
Peter laughs. “Things do have a way of working out for the best, don’t they?”
She’s quiet for a moment, before a small smile crosses her face, and she nods. “Yeah. I guess they do.”
They come up on the door where Resnick is holed up, and Peter puts a finger to his lips, before signaling that he would go in first. He always went first. It is his way of protecting her, even though he knows she doesn’t need it. She nods, and he pauses, before kicking down the door and making her way inside. He angles right, and she goes left. Her side of the room is clear, and just as she turns to check on him, she sees him.
“Peter, look—”
She can’t even finish the sentence, before Peter is just gone. The only evidence anything has happened lies in the fine red mist that now covers her completely. She has gotten used to wearing her own blood—it comes with her ability—but the feel of someone else’s is foreign and uncomfortable. The smell of it alone is enough to make her sick, and she can feel the bile rising in her throat.
“Don’t you all know by now,” Resnick says slowly, starting to advance on her as he pulls the other glove from his hand. All it had taken was one touch. One touch to kill one of the few people in her life she had left, and she wants to hurt him, but she can’t even bring herself to raise the gun in her hand. It suddenly feels like a hundred pound weight, and she’s frozen in place, unable to move. “It never pays to be the hero.” He’s telling that to the wrong member of their merry band.
Claire learned that a long time ago.
Doesn’t stop her from trying anyway.
There’s something in the way he says it that snaps her out of it, and the gun is suddenly up and firing. It’s two solid shots to his shoulder that aren’t quite fatal, but enough to blow him away from her and has him stumbling to the ground. The panic has passed, and now all that’s left is rage. She keeps the gun poised in front of her, a heavy glare on her face, as she advances on him.
“Stay still. This is going to hurt.”
1551 words
no subject
"We regroup. Take a little time, then go back to work." She hopes she sounds more confident on that than he feels. "That's what he would have wanted."
no subject
He's okay for now, content in his plan, knowing he has the means to fix this, that he will fix this, but she doesn't have the comfort of that knowledge. She's still hurting and he doesn't blame her, even if he's not sure what do to about it -- it's not like he can tell her what's going on in his head, after all. And so he just brushes his thumb over the back of her hand slowly, soothingly, hoping that helps, even if it's only marginally.
no subject
"We should get some rest," she says softly. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day, I have a feeling."
no subject
Sighing, he glances at the other bed, trying to drum up the motivation to actually get up and move to it. It takes him a moment, but eventually he pushes to his feet, crossing the distance to the other bed. He pauses beside it long enough to kick off his boots, then flops down on it, face first.
"Night, Claire," he mumbles into the pillow. He'll get the lights after she settles and says good night back.
no subject
"Night, Sylar," she says softly, before closing her eyes and starting to curl up and go to sleep.
no subject
As fast as his thoughts work, though, he glad he's never needed much sleep. This isn't exactly going to be easy.