So Right

Disclaimer: I wish…

Characters: Claire and Zach friendship.

Summary: Who knew someone so indestructible could be so fragile? Clach friendship

A/N: Hi there. This is my first Heroes fanfic, so I hope you enjoy. Spoilers are up until Godsend – a lot of Claire/Zach dialogue taken from Godsend. Apologies for any spelling/grammar – I'm trying out a new writing style here and I hope it comes across clearly.

Huge thanks to my beta of sorts kap0w.

Enjoy!


It was weird, to put it frankly.

Her, hanging out with you.

You don't know what changed in her. What changed in you. Heck, for some reason you can't seem to remember much of what happened between yesterday and today.

But now she's constantly hanging around you, trying to get your attention.

Her cheerleader friends don't seem to care, and your friends don't think it's very out of the ordinary.

Something's missing, you can feel it. Being with her; it feels natural. But you can't help but look for the hidden camera every time she approaches her. For some dumb jock to jump out of the bushes and yell 'fooled ya'.

But it doesn't happen.

And the more time you spend with her, the more it feels…right.

Like you're back in sixth grade, without a care in the world.

When you were building forts and sharing ice-cream – with her.

You know when it changed. Junior high, 7th grade. You were sick for two weeks, glandular fever, and when you came back, everything was different. She was sitting with Jackie and the cheerleaders, hanging out with the football team and sitting up the back at English.

She passed you in hallways in silence. She ignored you in class. In study groups, she avoided your gaze.

Guilty, she was guilty.

That was how you two were. Until now.

This 'new' Claire is different. She's nice, she's funny she's…

You don't know. He don't know what to believe anymore

So you decide to go with her. Following her to the water tower like a lost puppy. You used to joke about it, called it the 'Claire effect'. Back in sixth grade…no wait, it wasn't then. It was recently, but you can't fully remember. It's strange; you can remember things that happened two years ago so clearly, but two weeks ago? You try to concentrate, but it gives you a headache. It's probably nothing.

You turn back to Claire, who's walking a few steps in front of you. She's talking animatedly, urgently and her eyes are wide. Filled with panic you guess, and maybe a bit of hope.

Hopeful? For what, to be your friend? It's too ridiculous to contemplate; you push it to the back of your mind.

"We've been here before. You, me, the video camera. Is it at all familiar?"

You look at her like she's crazy. You, at the water tower with Claire Bennett, that's crazy. Surely you'd remember something like that. Wouldn't you?

"What are you doing, auditioning for America's Next Top Model?" You joke sarcastically, as she pulls you along.

"You made that joke the first time. Look, just keep the camera on me, okay?" She laughs lightly and you're confused. First time? What first time?

"Why don't you just use a tripod?" You ask impatiently.

"I can't do this by myself. And I know you can keep a secret; you did. You did, until you forgot what it was."

You hear the sadness in her voice and you almost believe her. The more time you spend with her the less reasons you have not to trust her. Memories from sixth grade flash before your eyes. Camping trips and tree houses and bike riding.

"When we were best friends." You nod.

"You ready?" Claire asks, heading towards the water tower.

"Claire, hold on a second." You stop her, worried and confused, "I'm sure you told me this ... before, but, um, why are we videotaping this? Whatever this is."

"Actually, I didn't tell you that before. The first time I did this, I did it to show my parents. My real parents. I wanted them to see what I was. I thought they could help me understand. But I don't think I'm ever gonna meet them. They may not even be alive anymore."

She looks like she's about to break in two. She's avoiding your gaze, toeing the dirt with her shoe. She's probably crying; you remember how you hated having to see her cry. You didn't know she was adopted, but somehow you were supposed to.

"So why do you wanna tape it now?" You ask gently.

"For me. So I never forget what I am. No matter what happens to me. Look, just don't freak out, okay?" She stares at you, defiantly. It's the Claire you remember, the Claire who punched Roger Bowsmith in the fourth grade for pulling her hair. You've always admired her strength and it comes as a relief to know it's still there.

"I won't." You promise.

"You said that last time." She grins, running towards the water tower.

As she climbs the stairs, you get out your video camera. You have no idea what you're filming, no idea why you're here. Surely Claire could've recruited one of her cheerleader friends to hold a camera. You don't know why she chose you.

You point it to the platform on which she's standing.

"Camera's ready for whatever."

"Okay, I'm ready. Keep the camera on me."

She climbs over the rail.

You start to panic.

"What are you doing?"

She takes a step off the edge.

"Aahh!"

Thud!

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God--Claire!" You yell, running to where she's lying. You can't breathe, you feel like you're going to throw up. You can't feel you're legs, but before you know it you're at her side.

She slowly gets up. There's a gash above her right eye and a bone sticking out of her chest. You feel the bile creeping up you throat. Slowly and carefully she pushes the bone back into her chest and snaps her shoulder back into place. A look of pure calm crosses her bloody features.

You realize the camera's still running. It's still pointed directly on her.

She's standing before you, alive and perfectly fine.

She takes a deep breath.

"Okay. This is Claire Bennett. And as far as you know, that was attempt number one."

The gash above her right eye begins to heal. All that remains is dirt, dried blood and ripped clothing.

"Holy shit…" you mumble, turning off the camera and placing it on the ground. You take a few tentative steps towards her. "No way…"

You come to a halt in front of her. You want to hold her, take her in your arms and never let her go. Something inside you tells you that last week you might have. Last week you might have done a lot of things. Instead you gently touch her forehead, above her right eye where the gash would have been. Your hand slowly travels down her cheek, until you find yourself cupping her chin with one hand and holding her elbow with the other.

"How, Claire?" You whisper, staring deep into her eyes, "Why me?"

"I trust you, Zach," she whispers softly, "and you may not believe it, but last week we were friends. Last week you asked me to homecoming. Buy something happened that night. Something happened to me, to you - something I can't explain. We were once best friends Zach, and no matter what you think of me; the freak, the mean cheerleader, whatever, you were probably the best friend I ever had."

You're speechless. Her sudden confession has caught you off guard and you're starting to believe what she's saying. It's like a bad sci-fi movie, the mind wiping, and her 'powers'. Something you would've mocked, a ploy of bad film making. But its real, all of it and the result is standing right in front of you. Eyes wide and full of emotion staring at you like you can make it better. Like you can solve her problems.

But you don't think you can and all you want to do is chuck her and tape and walk away. You don't need this, with SATs so close and your home life going to hell. You don't need the added complication of Claire.

Tears are forming in the corners of her eyes and she desperately waits for your response. So you do the only thing you can think of doing at that moment. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close.

She leans into your embrace and you can feel her sobs wracking her body. Who knew someone so…indestructible could be so fragile. She's falling apart, in your arms, yet she's untouchable. She scares you and intrigues you at the same time.

"Thanks." She breathes, holding you tight.

"Any time," you murmur, stroking her hair.

Last week you would have ignored her in the halls. Today you're holding her in your arms.

How things have changed.

It's weird, to put it frankly.

Her, with you.

But it feels so right.


A/N: Any comments would be most appreciated. Click click bottom left to win a prize!