Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, or anything affiliated with Heroes. This is just for my own amusement.

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A Done Deal

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Preface

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"Are you ready?"

The urgency in his voice frightened her. In the dark she can make out his eyes, wide and questioning, expecting a quick answer. They hold no explanation for their hasty exit, but she can't be sure, his eyes are everywhere, shifting with every noise.

The moon finds its way through the thin curtains, illuminating the room. A layer of sweat covers his face and in the deep silence she can hear herself swallow hard. A drop rolls down her forehead. She's sweating now too.

"I'm ready."

There's a tremor in her voice that she can't control, and she chews ruthlessly on a thumbnail. A door slams, starling them both. Without another word her hand is secure in his and they find their way to the kitchen of the small house. A man waits for them there and, immediately she recognizes him, she doesn't have to flick on a light to know it was her father.

A sense of relief flowed through her tense body, and she relaxed; her father wouldn't let any harm come to her, but that relief was short lived. There is a look of fear and guilt in his eyes, a look that he thinks he can hide from her, but her senses are heightened. The smell of danger lingers in the air.

"Did you get everything?"

The younger man released her hand and tugged at the black backpack slung over his shoulder with a nod of his head. "Can't promise they won't track it back to us. I doubt they take kindly to stealing."

"Doesn't matter, we got what we wanted." The words were just above a whisper.

He towered over her, his hand on her shoulder and his back hunched; he wanted to look her in the eyes while he spoke with her. For a moment, she could have sworn there were tears clouding his eyes, but with a blink the tears were gone and the fearless man she knew was back.

"Frankie, you're going to take a ride with your uncle." It was a demand, not a request. He felt her breathe in sharply and tense under his grip; a retort was coming, he knew she wouldn't go without some kind of resistance. He spoke before she could. "I'll be right behind you the whole way."

She choked back a sob. He was lying, she could always tell when he lied to her. "You promised." She coughed and took in a shaky breath. "When mom left you promised no more. That all this would stop."

"We don't have time for this, Tom," Her uncle interrupted, on edge, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right.

He held up a finger signaling he wanted just one more moment with his daughter. "I know what I promised, and I'm sorry. I lo—"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

One of the nine glass panels that made up the backdoor shattered, spraying shards of glass throughout the kitchen and a defining sound- a loud bang- filled the silence. In shock, she fell to the floor throwing her arms over her head. Her father followed, his heavy body slumping over her, and at first, she thought he was trying to protect her but something wasn't right.

Through the chaos she could faintly hear her uncle screaming her name and the weight of her father's body was lifted from her back. She took a deep breath and winced, a sharp burning pain enveloping her left shoulder. The kitchen was dark, almost pitch black, but she could still make out the blood that dripped down her arm.

Immediately, she turned her attention to her father, who now lay sprawled across the tile floor. Her uncle was bent over him, fingers pressed to his neck no doubt searching for a pulse – but as she held her breath taking in the scene with wide eyes – he shook his head and stood.

"He's gone. There's nothing we can do," He murmured and, for a moment, Frankie thought she might be sick. Her stomach lurched, and her mouth went dry; she could feel the room begin to spin. No, the room wasn't spinning; her uncle was hauling her to her feet. "We have to get out of here, now!" He yelled.

The pain in her shoulder was unbearable. Each step, each breath, sent another spike of pain through her and, more than once, the thought that she wouldn't make it through this alive crossed her mind. Her uncle urged her on in a hushed tone; his hand gripping her waist tightly, while the other secured the arm thrown over his shoulder.

But, it was too much. There was so much blood.

At the bottom of the cellar steps, just a few feet from the window they were to escape, she collapsed. A gasping breath left her lips and she was still.

A metallic 'zip' breaks the silence.