Frequent Flyer
Summary: Electricity plus metal planes equals a very bad, deadly match. AU. Elle-centric.
Spoiler alert: Volume 3 - Clear & Present Danger
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, duh. I'm jelly of NBC.
Author's Note: Brainchild of the fanfic challenge by catyuy and di_elle on the sylarelle livejournal community. Thanks catyuy and faded_facade for betaing, I completed the fic on a plane today, which is both funny and morbid. ;) Love the reviews!
Shit hit the fan.
Elle has been stupid to think that she could pretend to live a normal life. Ignored Senator Petrelli's ominous speeches of dangerous people and terrorism on the television. Government operatives along with Noah-fucking-Bennet showed up on her front steps and apprehended her.
Elle wakes up suddenly to the uncomfortable feeling of a plastic tube roughly shoved into her noise. Elle immediately feels weak and dizzy from whatever narcotics they pump through her petite body. They force a thick, black mask over her face. Large goggles and heavy earmuffs complete the outfit. Elle can't see, hear, or speak.
Seconds, hours, days tick by. It is hard to determine time without any sensory cues. The temporal isolation has confused her internal clock, that natural circadian rhythm is outta whack. Sensory deprivation is a very strange experience, creating an altered state of consciousness composed of heightened anxiety, hallucinations, and bizarre thoughts. Elle is left alone in the darkness haunted with paranoia on the verge of overflowing her psyche.
Elle finds that she has trouble moving her body and focusing her mind. The side effects of strong sedatives. Elle isn't scared over her own wellbeing, but rather is extremely concerned that the potent narcotics are harmful to the baby inside her.
Out of the darkness, Elle feels someone's hands on her face. The mask is suddenly yanked off. Elle squints, her eyes take a few moments to adjust to the bright florescent lights.
"Oh my God. Elle? Elle!" A familiar voice cries out.
Pom Pom and Boy Wonder are attempting to bring Elle to full consciousness.
Elle smiles lazily at the ridiculous matching orange jumpsuits that the dynamic duo are sporting. The smile is wiped clean when she realizes that she's dressed in the same hideous outfit.
Elle's blue eyes furrow in frustrations when she can't move her body, she's shackled down with metal bars and restraints.
"Holy shit, I thought you were dead!" Claire-bear gasps.
"What's going on?" Elle murmurs, her voice sluggish from the effects of the tranquilizers.
"They've taken us prisoner." Peter explains, he's shouting over a loud, buzzing noise. "We're on some government plane---"
Elle's eyes widen. Plane?!?! Peter and Claire move out of her line of vision, revealing the interior of a large metal cargo plane. A rusting plane flying millions of miles from the ground. Elle feels her stomach clench tight with anxiety as she takes in her surroundings. Her voice is high and shaky. "Mother fucker."
The firecracker is usually tough as nails. But every superhero…and villain… has their own unique weakness. Clark Kent has Kryptonite. Elle's own personal Achilles' heel happens to be flying. Just her luck.
Sure, Elle knows that she has an irrational fear of flying. Flying is safer than driving a car. Considered one of the safest forms of transportation. Even safer than walking. Statistics indicate that a person has a greater chance of dying from falling off of a ladder or drowning in a bathtub.
But those statistics don't help reduce Elle's natural physiological response to her fear of flying. Muscle tension. Tremors. Heavy, labored breathing. Abdominal discomfort. Sweating. Dizziness.
And then there's the psychological response. The mind processes about 1,000 words per minute on average. However, as the anxiety kicks in, the thoughts run even faster - often repeating themselves over and over without end, overlapping and swirling together, each one demanding attention and energy. The racing thoughts repeat, they branch out - making more irrational thoughts. All the irrational thoughts ultimately lead to one terrifying, absolute belief- I am going to die.
Elle not only experiences the heightened anxiety and flooding thoughts that phobic flyers typically go through, her ability adds a unique… complication. Electricity + metal cargo plane = bad.
Nervous energy begins to spark uncontrollably from every inch of Elle's body. The surge of power forces the plane to freefall for a heartbeat.
"Elle, no! Calm down! Please!" Claire is hovering over Elle. The indestructible teenager grabs Elle's tiny hands, channeling the electrical current into her own body.
"What do you expect from me, cheerleader? It's not like I have a frequent flyer card!" Elle tries to put on a confident and playful smile, but her voice is shaking from fear.
Elle's eyes shift from the concerned youthful face to evaluate her own personal hell. The plane looks rusty and ancient, the kind that somehow survived World War II. Energy unconsciously snaps wildly, some escaping from the cheerleader's control. Elle whimpers to Claire. "Fuck, you won't be able to contain all of the energy. Please, you need to distract me…."
"Okay, okay." Claire nods her head a little too fast. Takes one of her hands to smooth back Elle's tossed hair, in attempts to calm her. "Sylar explained that you were dead. We had assumed he murdered you. How did you survived?"
"Um…" Elle starts, unable to finds the right words. The question wasn't particularly calming. "Well, a magician can't reveal the secret to the trick, spoils the magic and mystery. Really, Pom Pom, at least try to distract me with something not so anxiety provoking."
Claire smiles widely, "I'm sorry, let's see…"
The cheerleader's attention is suddenly shifted down towards to cockpit. Guards with large guns emerge from the door, attacking Peter. Claire lets go of Elle's hands and runs over to assist Peter in the fight.
"Claire?" Elle screams are muffled over the loud noise of the cargo plane. Energy is leaking out of her body, causing the plane to violently rattle at the electrical disturbance. The turbulence only increases Elle's anxiety as well as the voltage of her blue sparks. "Pom Pom?!?!"
Elle can't trust anybody for anything. Claire's action just reinforced her negative cognitive distortion. The bitch abandoned her in Elle's time of need. Apparently pretty Peter Petrelli is more important.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." Elle chants the mantra over and over.
Elle fights the painful urge to struggle against her restraints, knows that it will only make her more panicked. Elle's other phobia is being powerless, caged, and not in control. Those fears are obviously strongly connected to her phobia of flying.
Her mind frantically goes over all of the anxiety and stress reducing techniques. She's read all of the self help books aimed to train the mind and body against phobias.
Elle starts by focusing on her breathing. Tries to apply those deep breathing techniques that she used to make fun of. Hee-hee-hoa. Hee-hee-hoa. Hee-hee-hoa. Oh fuck, Elle realizes that the style she is applying isn't really the traditional deep breathing for stress, but rather it was the lamaze childbirth method. The idea of giving birth- although something that will soon be a reality- causes Elle to breath increasingly faster and more frantic. Puts her on the edge of hyperventilating.
Elle attempts to count backwards in her head. 10. 9. 8. Damn. Elle has never had a very good attention span. Her thoughts instantly move back to the small, metal machine that she's trapped in. Lets out a loud yelp concurrently with a intense release of energy. The plane jerks around violently. Elle feels the uncomfortable urge to throw up.
She tries a distraction technique and murmurs out loud to herself. "Oh my, this orange jumpsuit is hideous. Yep, orange doesn't work well on anyone's complexion. It should be illegal! I would totally chose style over comfort while travelin--- fuck!"
Elle next tries out a visualization exercise. Imagines a relaxing place, somewhere nice…peaceful. A tropical island, drinking margaritas while sunbathing on a sandy beach… bleeding from the head and being lit on fire by her lover. Elle has not had the best history with beaches. The image causes Elle to surge again.
The masked prisoners scream in unison from the pain of her electricity. Their cries move her attention for the first time to the other specials on the plane. Is Gabriel here? Hidden beneath one of the black ski masks? Elle shouldn't get her hopes up, knows deep down that he's probably killing again and going by his other alias. Sylar. And Sylar would not allow himself to get stuck in this situation. The thought of her ex-lover, her baby's daddy, is not very calming.
Electricity is radiating hot within her core, her power lights up the entire interior of the plane with blue luminance. She is now almost in a full blown panic attack. Elle unconsciously releases an intense electrical burst that she is confident has damaged the plane's entire navigational system.
"Please, just relax!" Peter is suddenly in front of her.
Elle rolls her eyes at his remark. "You think I'm not trying here? God, Peter - you're an idiot."Hard to be relaxed and cool when the plane is swirling down to her imminent death. Elle really, truly hates flying.
"I'm sorry, Elle." Peter yells. Before Elle can respond, Peter's fist connects to her jaw, engulfing her in darkness.
Fin ?
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