Call me childish, call me stupid, call me anything but what I really am, a victim.
I'm a victim of many things, things that make me shudder, things that make me want to turn back time and run away from everything and everyone.
He was sitting by a fountain, bagged lunch, and geek written over his forehead, the handy work of Brody.
It seems he went back to his old roots, drinking and being a jock, let's just hope he hasn't taken up all of his old habits.
I watch him, a child still, something I had long ago lost along with all of the blood and bullets.
Grass stains and tomato sauce cover his jeans, the same head phones blast music, punk, rock, or anything that would make his mom cringe.
Zach, bff foever or some other girly phrase.
We were friends far longer then he remembers, so many smiles and touches shared all disappearing in to the black opyss and being pulled out like candy from a bowl
"You look different, going for the emo look?"
He looked like a wet cat, wide eyes and everything.
Cheap black hair dye stood out with his pale skin, messing up everything.
No more brown locks and baby blues, just blackish hair and yellow contacts.
"C-Claire?...Whoa."
He was like a deer in headlights, better him then me.
"It's been a while. Too long, where have you been?"
I can't shake the feeling of worry, the suspicion that soon his friendly face would slowly turn to the horrid one of Sylar, or of Bob smiling back at me, ashes in hand.
I sat next to him, swallowing the worry, replacing it with hope, something that was rare these days.
"Hiding and running away. But we can stop now."
I tried to smile, it hurt making my cheeks fall in failure.
"I missed you, I have friends, but they wouldn't punch out cheerleaders for me."
I let out a laugh, something I would these days find impossible, and finally let myself crack the smile that had wanted to come ever since I saw him and his headphones.
"I missed you too; I'm low on geek boys."
His hands were warm and welcoming, the chipped black finger nails just made it even better.
His hugs were addicting, it was hard to let him free after being so untouched over these long months.
"Zach?"
I laid my head on his shoulder, his fingers running through my blond locks, holding me tighter then anyone.
"Mmmhmm?"
"Do you ever wish that we could go back to the beginning, start over, me with no more powers? That we could stop being the victims of such people, Sylar, Brody, and everyone waiting to prod and poke me?"
He paused, his breathing slowing and his mind working, trying to find answer to all my sorrows.
I know I shouldn't do it, grasp on to him when I knew I couldn't stay, pile my baggage on him so I don't have to carry it myself.
"No, no I don't."
No, no? Was he crazy? Why?
"If I had to be a victim to find you, my best friend, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. It was horrible, Sylar, Brody, everything that has happened to me and you, the trash, the outsiders, but it brought good too. We found each other, you found the long lost mother and father, and loved your dad more, if that's the price of being a victim, I think I'll take it."
He barely took a breath thought out the small speech, making my eyes water and my heart finally come alive, it's been dead for so long.
I sat up, rubbing the saltiness from my eyes, and grabbing two of his favorite new drinks, red bull.
I handed one to him, banging them together like a toast.
"To the victims, friends forever."
"Forever."