Rating: M
Warnings: Language, some sensetive themes
Summary: Catlin Hunter didn't want nor need a father figure. Claude Rains figured little girls with big brown eyes were nothing short of trouble. Funny how they had to go and end up meaning the world to each other, isnt it?
Disclaimer: Alas, it is not so.
A/N: Also, this will be a purely father/daughter relationship, no romance, unless it's with other characters.
At fifteen and a half, Catlin Hunter was anything but stupid. When she took a wrong turn into an alley on her way home from the movies only to walk right into the path of some not-so-savory looking men, she summed up her situation in two elegant words.
"Oh shit."
And then the chase was on.
Breath screaming through her lungs, Catlin dodged around the side of a dilapidated old building, heart beating furiously against her chest as she heard the footsteps of her followers as they ran through puddles left by the last wild rainstorm New York had to offer. She went very still, crouching behind two garbage cans, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the back street, tracing the outlines of four large men.
She wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to do in this situation, but she figured these guys weren't after her for a good chat. Should she end up caught, some kicking, screaming, snarling, and punching would probably be in order.
"Coome oon out here ssugar!" The mans voice was slurred,"We just wanna have a bit of oh f--fun!"
Him and the others laughed uproariously.
Unconsciously, Catlin's fingers curled into points.
The men continued to wander closer to her hiding place, all the while murmuring filth and promises not to hurt her if she just did what they asked her to do.
Shrinking down as low as she could get, Catlin held her breath as the men stopped and stood right in front of her hiding place. Knowing inherently that it was only a matter of time before they found her, Catlin braced herself for a fight, knowing she didn't have a hope at winning but desperate to do some damage herself.
The moment the first man saw her, she knew it. Knew it from the way his mouth curved into an evil, drunken grin, in the way he leaned down so he was looking right into her eyes, in the way he reached out, as if he was ready to pull her from her hiding place with his grubby hands and into his and his buddy's filthy embraces.
Something in Catlin snapped, and with a snarl that didn't sound totally human, she struck out with her hand as if she was going to slap the man.
Instead of the sound she was expecting, either the smack of her hand against his cheek or the crack of her wrist as he caught her in the attempt, she heard a very different noise.
The sound of flesh tearing.
Letting out an ear shattering howl of pain, the man fell to his knees, clutching at his ruined face with his hands.
Freezing stone still, she stared, too shocked to do more than gaze in wonder (and a slight, slight bit of smugness that she didn't really want to admit but felt strongly anyway) at the deep slashes in the mans face, looking for all the world like a wild animal had gotten it's claws into him.
"You little bitch." Snarled one of the others, and as a unit the three remaining men came at her, fists grabbing.
Catlin didn't have a chance to move, but she did close her eyes as she waited for the blows that would undoubtedly soon be raining down on her.
They never came.
Slowly, her eyes opened, until she was watching with no small amount of shock as a single man, slightly taller but no more muscular than average, beat the tar out of her would-be attackers.
He moved fluidly, with grace, and it was obvious that fighting wasn't something he was new at. It was frightening, how easily he destroyed his competition, they looked like they didn't even see his fists coming for them.
It was over in an almost comical amount of time.
Catlin watched with apprehension as the man, done with his task of beating the remaining men into senseless bloody pulps, approached her.
She wondered if she'd just gone from a bad situation to a worse one.
She thought he was going to walk over to her, to talk to her or grab her or something, but instead he stopped two or so feet away from where she remained huddled behind the trashcans, and instead strolled over to the man who she'd somehow (and how had she done it? How, how, how?) managed to maul. It looks like sometime during the fighting, he'd managed to pass out.
The mysterious man used the toe of his shoe to roll the other guy over, and though she noticed he didn't appear to be any more clean than the tramps she saw on the streets, he acted like he was afraid the man on the ground would somehow sully his shoes. She couldn't make out his features well, but she could see the way his face turned, studying the mans face dispassionately, before letting out a short bark of a laugh that managed to sound impressed and slightly condescending all at the same time.
Catlin was mildly impressed.
"Well well well then, the kitten really does have some claws!" The man's voice was rough, but whether it was just what his voice sounded like or that he just wasn't used to talking anymore, Catlin didn't know. She noticed the accent though, and wondered briefly if he'd lived in America for a long time, or if it was a new development.
It took a moment for her to realize he was staring right back at her, and she could see, suddenly, that his eyes were light blue, cold and piercing as he glared into her brown ones.
"You can see me, can't you?"
The statement was absurd, but she nodded anyway, words stuck in her throat.
"Of all the fucking luck!" The man snarls, and it makes her jump, eyes widening as his face contorts into bitterness. "More than seven years playing invisible man, and all of a sudden I'm stuck teaching a stupid, lying, betraying Poodle, and some stray kitten's suddenly able to see me."
Catlin has no idea what to say, so she stays silent, at least, until the man begins to walk away.
"W-Wait! Where the hell do you think you're going?" Picking herself off the ground and carefully making her way around the bodies of the men, she quickly made her way after the man who had saved her.
He doesn't stop, doesn't slow down in any way that she can see, but she catches up to him, so he can't be trying to get rid of her that hard.
"I don't think that's any of your damn business, girlie, and I don't owe you any sort of explanation. I think you're the one that owes me a big, heartfelt 'thankyouClaude for saving my skinny ass'." He voice is low and mean, but Catlin had been talked to far worse than that in her life.
Lifting a hand, she grasped the taller mans shoulder, spinning him around with far more ease than she should have been able to. She notices him wince, but doesn't know how she could have hurt him, she just touched his shoulder.
"Thank you, Claude was it? For saving my skinny ass." She says it the way some hero on a TV show would say it, trying to sound cool and unruffled as she possibly could after the situation she'd just been through. "But I'm very confused, and I'd like to know what the hell just happened to me, and it's--" She checked her watch, "-almost one thirty in the morning in a not so safe part of New York. Excuse me for not wanting to be left alone."
For a moment, the Claude man looks startled, then amused, but before long his face is cold and emotionless again, apart from the sharp cruelty that Catlin was beginning to realize had a permanent place in his eyes.
"I reckon you'd be just fine, even if this is a scary neighborhood. Powers like yours, you'll be a real match for anyone, trained up a bit you could do some pretty amazi--" Stopping mid sentence, Claude's eyebrows lower, making his face suddenly dark and foreboding, before turning swiftly on his heel and making his way down another street.
"My powers? What the hell are you talking about? I'm fifteen fucking years old, how am I supposed to be "just fine" in a crazy neighborhood like this one? Are you out of your sodding mind?" Catlin was confused, and scared, and nervous, because nothing was making sense and she was pretty sure she had just escaped being a rape victim by the skin of her teeth and with the help of this crazy guy, and what on earth had the man meant about powers? She knew she was being rude, swearing and carrying on like some stupid kid, but really, what the hell?
Claude stops, and turns to look at her with something that isn't quite interest, but maybe a distant cousin of it, and looks her up and down.
"Did you just say sodding?" The humor is back in his voice. "Little New York Kitten reads Harry Potter, or something else British, I'm guessing."
Catlin's ears burn, because yes, she is rather fond of Harry Potter, but plows right on anyway.
"Yes I did just say sodding, but you didn't answer my questions. Who are you? What on earth was that... what you did... you annihilated those guys! And what are you talking about, getting me trained up and being amazing? You can't just walk away, you just cant!"
Tears, frustrated, angry, frightened tears burned at her eyes, and that only managed to make her more upset.
"--Wait one bloody second, are you crying?" Claude's stoic expression broke as he took a step back, showing the first signs of, if not outright fear, something damn close, all night.
"I am not!" Catlin snarled, sounding very much like she was.
"Oh... fuck. Where do you live, kid?"
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Fifteen minutes and one massive awkward silence later, Catlin and Claude were making their way down the hallway of a gritty little apartment building that stank of things better left unthought about.
"And you said the other neighborhood was scary..." Catlin heard Claude mutter.
Shooting him a dark look, she shoved her shoulder against the apartment door, jiggling the handle and pushing. The door popped open with a faint click. She was embarrassed out of her mind, it had been years since she'd last cried in front of anyone, and she felt incredibly ashamed that she'd showed such a weakness in front of this virtual stranger.
Holding the door open, Catlin silently invited him in.
"No way in hell, brat." Said Claude, head shaking. "I freaking escorted you home, I'm not tucking you into bed too."
"Just get inside the damn apartment, you look like you haven't had a square meal in years, let alone a shower, you smell worse than a public bathroom." Catlin allowed her lip to curl, feeling a bit smug when Claude's own narrowed in annoyance. "Besides, it's the least I could do for my hero."
Pushing past her like she wasn't even there, Claude walked into her home.
Grinning in triumph, Catlin shut the door behind him.
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"Soooo... where's Mummy and Daddy?" Claude asked in a vaguely babyish tone. Catlin bristled, but kept her voice cool.
"I haven't seen my father since I was six, and even then I didn't revel in his presence. If you have any idea where my mother is, I'd love to know. Rent money is due, we'll only have hot water for another couple of days if she doesn't get one of her boyfriends to pay the bill soon."
Claude's mouth shut with a click.
"So..." Continued Catlin, pausing only a beat. "Some explanations would be lovely, if it's all the same to you."
Being in her own apartment gave Catlin the sense of calm she'd been lacking since taking that wrong turn down the alleyway. She wasn't a scared little girl who needed to be saved, and the cold feeling of the apartment she'd grown up in reminded her of that. Fazing back into the Catlin Hunter everyone knew and loathed, she felt at peace. This, coldness, anger, dislike, she knew.
Claude was looking at her oddly, taking in her sudden distant expression with a raised eyebrow.
"Summed up in a few words... I'm special Kitty Cat, and so are you." He plopped himself on one of her rickety chairs, propping his dirty shoes on her table in the same breath.
"And once again, what the hell is that supposed to mean? And stop calling me kitty cat, it's Catlin." She pushed his feet off the table on the way to the fridge.
Putting them up once again, Claude grinned. "Well isn't that just the most ironic little thing in the world, a shapeshifter with feline tendencies named Catlin."
Catlin froze, arm still stretched into the fridge and reaching for the leftover lasagna from last night. Straightening slowly and removing her arm, she cast the most disdainful, withering look she could at the man in her kitchen.
"Did you really just say that? How stupid do you think I am? How crazy are you, exactly?"
"Do you really want me to answer that question?" It was Claude's turn to be smug. "Besides, it's not as crazy as you'd think, though what you've got is a pretty rare power, that's for sure."
"You say that like... like powers somehow come in different types!" Fascination warred with the derision in her voice.
"That's because they do, you poor, naive little Kitten." Claude said in a singsong voice, before suddenly he was out of his chair and rushing out of the room like he was on fire.
"What the--" Was all Catlin got out before rushing after him, worried her little apartment was about to be damaged by the obviously somewhat deranged man. Yeah, the place sucked, but it was all she had.
She finally came upon him leaning on the door to the bathroom.
"Do you mind telling me what that was about?" She demanded, stepping into his personal space and getting right up in his face.
Claude responded by opening the door to the bathroom and sliding in, dragging a startled Catlin with him.
Glaring at him through her fringe, she righted herself instantly, smoothing down her black t-shirt and frowning.
"And what was that supposed to accomplish, apart from getting me into this dingy little bathroom with you? Oh God, you aren't a pervert are you?" She wasn't really worried about her saftey, though she didn't know why, since this Claude guy was quite obviously lacking a few crayons from the box department. She just trusted he wouldn't try anything like that on her.
Strange that, since she'd never trusted anyone not to try and screw her over before.
Rolling his eyes, Claude gestured to the mirror that rested above the sink.
She glanced at it, not seeing the big deal, it was just her, red hair, brown eyes, pale complexion, nothing to call home about...
And then she registered what she was seeing.
Head flashing from the mirror to the man who was standing directly behind her, Catlin's mouth fell open in shock.
He was there, she could feel his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in place. He was warm, and he stank of long days and even longer nights of running. She knew he was there, but what she was seeing...
The mirror was empty of anyone but her.
Claude leaned down, and let out a low chuckle. "You believe me now then, Kitten?"
A/N
This is my first attempt at writing Heroes fanfiction, and I really hope to get somewhere with this particular fic. I'd love to improve my writing, and I'm worried this story started out super rushed, so if you have anything that I can improve on or anything, I'd really appreicate it if you'd let me know. Also, since my inability to proof read or spell correctly has actually caused teachers of mine to bust out sobbing, if anyone's interested in being a beta for this story, feel free to PM me!
Reviews = love