Hey, first Heroes fanfiction, first fanfiction in a long while so I hope you guys like it. Not actually sure where its going, but I've been thinking about it for a while and had to get it out there.
Claire and Elle centric
Disclaimer: I very obviously do not own Heroes, not the show or any reference to the graphic novel. Also the quote is from the episode Four Months Ago.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elle Saves the Day
"God damn it," Elle screamed, pounding her good hand against the steering wheel. Little electrical sparks danced on her knuckles, but she scrunched her face up and swallowed back her rage. Daddy was mad at her; if this car exploded she probably won't be let out of the company for a while. She gripped the staring wheel, trying not to think of the lashing daddy gave her, like it was really her fault Sylar got his powers back. If it wasn't for her, he would have got his powers back and Fight Club would be dead, along with what's-her-name… crazy eye girl. Whatever.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn't matter if she got yelled at anyways; there were more important things to worry about. Things like the stories Bennet have been telling her, stories she couldn't remember being true or false either way, but that struck at her more painfully than any punishment her daddy had ever given her. Supposedly overloading her, torturing her, taking her memories, making her who she is today.
"I accidentally set my grandmother's house on fire when I was six. Caused a blackout in four counties in Ohio when I was eight. I spent my ninth birthday in a glass room with an IV of lithium in my arm. I've lived in this building for sixteen years, ever since the shrinks diagnosed me as a sociopath with paranoid delusions. But they're just out to get me, 'cause I threatened to kill them. I'm twenty-four years old and I've never gone on a date. Never been on a roller-coaster. Never been swimming."
She clenched her fist, willing the reappearing sparks to disappear. She needed answers. Her powers have been a little wonky lately, her head so stuffed it was messing her up a little, but just a little. Enough to make daddy yell, probably.
"Screw it," she hissed, shoving the keys into the ignition and gripping the wheel as the car whirled to life. She would find the answers and if daddy had empty folders, and she had been barred from the computers after the Sylar incident, so she didn't really have many options available to her. But if Bennet knew about all the nasty little details she didn't remember then maybe he also had her file. Even if Daddy hadn't given him one, he probably would have made his own, or at least evidence he hadn't made up the story on the spot, and kept it up to date. He seemed like the type to prissily document everything and set up files upon files with time stamps and passwords and… crap.
Crap.
Passwords. Well she'd jump that hurtle when she reached it, who knows maybe he keeps written copies in case the Haitian ever pulls one over on HIM. She could only hope, and maybe zap the cheerleader a bit and see if she knew that passwords for the files that might not even exist. Her mouth pursed. If they do exist, though, she might need Bennet's help eventually, and Daddy's Little Girl would probably tattle and ruin everything. Not that she knows what everything means. She'd come up with a plan for if Bennet is telling the truth later, for now she needed to see those files without hurting, possibly even annoying, any of his loving family. She'd have to be discreet.
Luckily, discreet was practically her middle name.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire was having a really, really bad day. If it wasn't bad enough that her Dad was basically forced to leave the family because of a The Company, though at least he was alive, but his sacrifice stopped all her plans for exposure. Then it got worse. Her bio dad was shot, and even though he had abandoned, betrayed, and ignored her; she didn't want him dead. Peter had dismissed her offer to help, and ruined even the chances of showing she cared. Which didn't even make sense; hello, super healing blood. Peter can teleport, he could pop in and out in two seconds. And when she decides to say screw Peter and go help her bio Dad anyways, BAM! Sylar chilling on her porch like a stalker.
Unfortunately, it seemed like her number was up. She had tried running, hiding, both slugging with a trophy and stabbing him with a knife. Nothing worked and now she's just filled with a paralyzing fear as her body becomes immobilized and shoved against the wall. The last thing she sees is Sylar's terrifying, coldblooded smiled as the burning,searing,ripping sensation tears through her sculp. Feeling the pain, and knowing what comes next, Claire looses all hope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elle pulled into the Bennet's driveway, somewhere she was forbidden to be by both daddy and Bennet himself, and allowed the hum of the car to disappear. She let her hand rest on the key for a second before deciding to leave it in the ignition, just in case she needed a fast getaway. No fumbling around this time.
Not that she's going to need a fast getaway, 'because she's sneaky and subtle, like a ninja. Her brow crinkled; maybe she shouldn't have parked in the driveway. Her car wasn't the quietest thing on the streets and whoever's in the house probably heard her, unless they're busy doing something loud. Like watching a really loud movie, no doubt from a huge collection of DVDs they bought after family outings to the actual theater, on their TV, probably an enormous flat screen with amazing surround sound speakers, on their super comfy sofas and chowing down popcorn.
Elle scowled a little, but began to relax a little when no one came outside to investigate the noise or headlights. Being a surprise always worked to her advantage, gave her the upper hand, no matter the situation. She debated starting the car again, hiding the car further down the road and then sneaking up to the house, but man would that be tedious so she abandons the plan. She is her now, good and ready, and she was not going to let herself procrastinate just because she's a teeny, tiny bit nervous. She takes a deep breath to settle herself, reminding herself that any electricity, deliberate or otherwise, would be seen as a threat, so she has to keep it together.
She quickly, though a little shakily, exited the car, approaching the front door. The smirk she had forced onto her face, because she is Elle bishop and kicks ass (right?), slips at seeing the door already ajar.
She was pretty sure that wasn't normal. She had never lived in a house, that she could remember anyways (stupid Haitian), but she knew people were supposed to shut and lock the door to keep people like her out. Claire may have been annoyingly naïve (and earnest and weepy and so completely self righteous, blah), but she just lost her dad, as far as she knew, and should definitely know better.
Elle stands there a second, a little confused as to what to do. Is she supposed to knock and charm her way inside when the door is already wide open, or is it like a trap and they somehow already knew she was coming and they're just waiting to ambush her. She shifts her feet nervously for a second before squaring her shoulders and preparing to just barge right in. Then right before she actually moves forward, she hears a crash and a muted voice. Elle moves.
As she slides into the doorway of the living room, she sees the cheerleader against the wall, a thin line of blood forming across her forehead in a way Elle is entirely too familiar with (she's seen the pictures). Elle feels the sparks building up before she even makes a conscious decision to help, and it is not even a millisecond before she acts, shooting electricity through her arm stinging,spreading,shooting and into Sylar even as he's turning to look at her and her loud shout of exclamation. Maybe it's not smart, letting the enemy know your there, but at least she stopped Claire's forehead from opening any further and it's probably already healing.
Sylar drops fast, she didn't miss this time, and the amount of voltage pushed into him is even more than she dropped Peter with so long ago. And Sylar can't heal. She doesn't know if he down for good, but he won't be up anytime soon.
She clenches her fist, staring at Sylar's downed body. She…she doesn't know what to do. The Company would take care of the rest, even if she brought in the body, but how will she explain this Daddy. She can't say she went looking for Sylar, not after before, and any explanation that involves going to the Bennet's with no orders also involves sitting in a cell next to Sylar.
"Shit shit shit," she mumbles under her breath, trying to come up with a solution, any solution, to her problems. Why do these things always happen to her? This one wasn't about her making some stupid, impulsive decision or ignoring strict orders to do something more fun, she had a plan and now it was ruined.
She looked up from the body for the first time, clenching her fist, and saw the cheerleader staring at her with wide eyes and leaning unsteadily against the wall, half sitting.
"Hi," Elle squeaked out, with a smile and a sarcastic wave.