A/N Been swept up in drabbles lately. Thought of this some odd weeks back.
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes.
Life was so fragile. Just as he could paint it, he could take it away.
A single stroke of the brush could be the difference between giving a life, or taking one. Destroying one, or creating one. And as he let the soft bristles of his tool glide one last time over the canvas, he thought of one particular life that he'd worried he had taken;
That of the cheerleader, from Texas. The one that Peter had gone after to save.
Though not everything that he painted came to fruition, he wondered if the terrified girl he'd drawn but a couple months ago would see her end tonight.
And if not her, then Peter. The portrait he'd recently drawn of him didn't look too promising.
Even though he wasn't a fan of the guy, he couldn't say that he wouldn't feel guilty if he were to be responsible for his death.
Still, Isaac wasn't quite sure what made him feel more protective of the cheerleader than his other subjects before her. He didn't know her anymore than he knew any of the other countless subjects that had popped into his head to be painted.
But there was something about her...
Something in her eyes that seemed not just scared, but innocent. And it made him uncomfortable knowing that he'd painted her in an environment filled with lurking danger.
If she were to die tonight, he worried that her death would have tremendous repercussions. Not only for him, but for the world.
Like by inadvertently putting her in harms way, he'd just potentially snuffed out an important light.
One that should be kept burning.
One that should be saved...
He shook his head to relieve himself of the thought.
No, Peter would save her.
He was determined.
And when that guy set his mind to something he did it.
He would do it.
He had to.