DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN HEROES

Thank you to anyone who either read or commented on my previous story, 'Upon The Invisible Thread'! The reviews are really encouraging (so far!) but as you can probably tell, I'm very knew to the fanfic writing thing, so hope I'm doing alright!

I wanted to do a story centred around Lyle as I feel that he is neglected during the whole show, and he has so much potential so I thought I would try and write something on it... so here is his reaction to Claire's jump and how he is involved in what happens afterwards. In this Lyle is also adopted, so it also centres around him trying to find his biological parents.

Preface: December 2010

It had been a long day for Lyle Bennet; after having two-and-a-half hours of sleep the night before and getting up at six for school, and then having tests all day, and then football practice, nothing pleased him more than the idea of going home and doing nothing.

Of course, in order to achieve this, Lyle would have to face the challenge of getting past his mom and Doug first.

Doug moved in back in November, just before Thanksgiving, and ever since then, it had been absolute agony. Every day at precisely five o'clock in the evening, Doug insisted that him, Sandra and Lyle sit around the dining room table to discuss the best and worst parts of their day. Lyle liked to keep it short- 'Best thing? Lunch. Worst? History test.' But Doug enjoyed seeing the teenager's face bunch up in pain, so he enlightened the group by telling them everything that had happened that day, including very minimal things that were unnecessary and dull. Yuck.

Lyle wouldn't want to talk about his daytime activities with his own father, let alone this creep. Lyle was always worried that he would bore his dad, whereas Claire was so interesting, so special, which is why Lyle concluded that his dad, ever since moving out, much preferred his daughter's company to his son's. However, despite this, and the fact that his dad was a lying, self-destructive, self-righteous, pretentious bastard, if it came down to it, Lyle would much rather spend time with him than Doug. The guy seemed to act like he had given birth to his own bloody dog, for goodness sake.

Thank God it was Friday.

Lyle walked down a long road which eventually lead to his house. The sun was hidden behind trees, close to setting, but it definitely wasn't warm. Darn this winter weather. The sky was getting dark, yet an orange glow from the sun was cast through gaps in the streets, leaving silhouettes of houses and trees painted on the tarmac.

Lyle had football from two till four, which was incredibly tiring, though it did manage to keep his mind off everything which was rather pleasant, yet his mind was now no longer occupied.

It was cold.

And he was tired.

But he was almost home.

And it was Friday.

He picked up his pace and jogged round a corner; his house slowly approaching. He continued till he reached the residence, bounded up the stairs to the front door and pushed his keys through the lock that he had been keeping tightly held in his hands all the way home as his motivation. His arms were colonised with goose bumps.

Costa Verde High School wasn't too far away from the Bennet household, when driving. So when Lyle's licence was taken away for 'bad behaviour and attitude', yawn, (Doug treated him like he was seven years old) Lyle had to endure thirty minutes walking to school every morning and evening. For a lazy person like himself, some might agree in saying that this was a rather strenuous.

Lyle felt relief flow from him as he walked through the front door in the form of a sigh. Home at last.

He closed the door behind him and strolled through the hallway. His recent happiness was short-lived as he saw the condition of the house. Everything was in prim condition, and it was horrible. Every piece of furniture had been polished at least ten times, the floor was so shiny it was gleaming- he could possibly slip and injure himself on it, it was a safety hazard. And once again, new photo frames had been put up on the wall of that bloody dog. They seemed to have coincidently appeared as photos of Noah had disappeared. Interesting.

Lyle kicked off his mud-coated shoes and headed for the stairs. A small growl rumbled from the kitchen as he walked past it. That dog.

'Oh, shut it,' was Lyle's reply.

Ever since Ratbag's arrival, Lyle and her relationship had been rocky to say the least. She didn't like him, growling when he was near, jumping up to bite him when he hugged his mom, and barking as he ate. Her usual greeting was a disconcerted snarl. Lyle's 'hello' was more of a swift middle finger. At least the feeling was mutual.

Still carrying the heavy load on his back which were his books, Lyle jumped up the stairs, two at a time, ran to his room and dropped the bags by his bed and launched into the covers. They welcomed him, and shared some warmth. He lay in bed for twenty minutes, just enjoying the silence.

Unfortunately, the silence ephemeral. Lyle could hear the front door open and a voice cry out, 'Lyle, are you home, honey?'

'Yeah,' he replied to his mom curtly.

There was a brief quiet, till his mom arrived at the door of his room. 'Have you heard anything from your father recently?'

Lyle smirked. 'No. Why would I?' He paused to sit up on his bed, facing his mother, and then continued. 'I'm not special.'

Sandra frowned, her brow furrowed, and her green eyes were coaxed in sadness and confusion. 'He was supposed to call two days ago, check how you're doing at school.'

A snigger broke from Lyle. He was very used to his father not calling. 'Mom, this is Dad, after all. It's nothing new.' He got up and squeezed past his mom, proceeding downstairs and into the lounge. As he made himself comfy on the leather couch, he said under his breath, 'Plus- I don't care any more.'

Lyle must have fallen asleep on the couch. He awoke dazed and slightly confused, the smell of Mexican food circulating around the room. His mom must have been cooking enchiladas, which fortunately were his favourite meal.

His mom walked into the room and sat down next to him. Her hair was tied back and she looked tired, black bags underlined her eyes. 'Doug is going to be staying with his sister for the weekend. She's ill at the moment. It gives you and me some time together- so, does fast food and action movies sound good?'

Lyle smiled at his mom's offer. It sounded like a perfect evening. A normal evening.

With Claire at university and Noah on business trips, Lyle and his mother had got pretty close. But they most importantly understood each other. Both of them had their memories erased several times and the number of times they had been lied to was well on the way to triple figures. Also, they both knew what is what like to be left out of everything again and again and again; disregarded like pebbles in a box of jewels. When this was done by their own family, it hurt a little more.

Protection? My ass.

'Sounds great.'

'Good,' his mom said, pleased. She walked out of the room while saying, 'Dinner will be ready in ten.'

Lyle reached for the remote and searched through the channels. There was absolutely nothing on TV. After a couple of minutes of scrolling through, Lyle put the news on.

He watched it idly, glancing around the room every once in a while in a fit of boredom. As always, the news simply replayed stories about politics, weather extremes and recent celebrity affairs; none of which caught his eye.

'And now we're going live to Central Park, New York City, as a local carnival plans to make world history.'

At that note, Lyle rose from his seat and ambled into the kitchen. His mom was no longer in there, though he could hear her voice on the phone from somewhere in the house.

He got himself a can of coke and returned to the lounge, where he once again plunged into the couch.

'Keep the cameras on me.'

Lyle's head snapped up immediately and looked around. He would recognise that voice any day, anywhere- it was Claire's voice, but she wasn't in the house- she was on the television.

His eyes bore into the screen as he watched her walk to a Ferris wheel, followed by a crowd of reporters.

'Holy crap,' was all Lyle managed to say. He realised what she was planning to do, though it wouldn't take a genius to figure it out. His heart was beating fast and echoing in his ears.

Claire had always complained about the life she had- how she wished it could be 'normal', but this stunt she was about to pull would take her to a realm far away from the distant land of 'normal'.

Lyle watched intently as Claire started on climbing up the railing of the wheel.

Is this really happening? Lyle thought to himself. The shock he felt was quickly transforming into horror as his sister showed no sign of backing down or changing her mind. His father's face appeared in his mind. Where was Dad? Was he involved in this? The teenager shook his head. His father would never consent to something like this. He'd spent far too many years making sure this never happened, and done far too many things that he would never be able to undo.

Claire reached the top of the Ferris wheel and stood still. Emotions flashed across her face, darkened by the black sky around her. Fear? Hope? A change of heart?

Lyle swore quietly and ran a hand through his now damp with sweat hair.

A choking sound emerged from over his shoulder.

Unbeknown to Lyle, his mother had been behind him the entire time, watching everything. Lyle whipped his head round only to see his mother's face drained of blood. It had been a very long time since she had the same expression. Her hands were covering her mouth and she was shaking ever so slightly. 'Oh Claire, please don't do this, please don't,' She was mumbling.

But there was nothing that the two could do except watch the girl leap off the wheel and land in a tangled heap a hundred metres below amidst the screams and yells of people around her.

Sandra's eyes were scared and glistening as she stared in horror at the screen. A single tear slipped from her left eye and slid down her cheek.

Lyle sat in silence as he replayed the last thirty seconds in his mind, over and over. She had done it; revealed herself to the world. Everything was about to change.

The television remained silent as if shocked by the sudden events as well. None of the reporters said anything; there wasn't a lot to say.

The cameras stayed focused on Claire as she snapped her bones back into place and brushed the dirt off her clothes and skin. As she spoke directly through the TV, a cut that went from her right eye to the right corner of her mouth healed. It was captured perfectly.

'My name is Claire Bennet and that was attempt number- I guess I kinda lost count.'