Chapter Two
It took half an hour before she eventually managed to stand. She spent ten long minutes just shifting her weight on the bench, shying away from his touch and shuffling her limbs. Her breathing was erratic and she felt that maybe, she should be crying. If she had the tears.
She simply didn't have the strength left in her to push herself up, Peter had to help, lifting her and settling her on her own limbs.
She crouched, huddled on the narrow bed and staring at the floor for a long moment.
It's a long way down.
He heard her idle thought and shifted closer.
'I'm right here, Claire.' He said.
She glanced up at him with wide eyes. She shifted and managed to swing her legs out from under herself. Her toes barely graze the concrete.
With a weak push, she slid from the bed and fell. Peter managed to catch her limp form and cradled her against his chest.
She shivered from his touch, the only real human contact she received in fifteen years.
He stood slowly, pulling her to her feet and holding most of her weight.
'What first?'
Water she thought purposefully I want to talk to you
He carefully led her out of the cell. Claire was tentative, unsure, but Peter was patient. He made sure she was stable, leaning against the wall before he dashed down to the antiquated vending machine. It was covered in dust, and everything would be out of date, but several bottles of water would do. He smashed through the glass and grabbed a bottle.
Claire let out a whimper at the crash, sudden noise hurting her sensitive ears.
'Here.' Peter said, holding out an opened bottle.
Claire's eyes slid down to the hand holding the water, thin trails of blood oozing out of fresh wounds. Glass was forced out and fell to the ground with tiny tinkling.
A small gasp escaped her and she glanced down to her own hands.
He touched her clothed shoulder gently. Her lips opened and he slowly brought the bottle to them.
One small sip and she fell to the floor, retching and coughing up what little water she swallowed.
'Shh…' Peter calmed, running at her back soothingly.
Claire coughed and panted. 'More.' She wheezed.
Hesitating, he brought the bottle to her lips and she swallowed the smallest sip. Then another.
She opened her mouth and spoke. 'They bled me, Peter, they bled me until I died then they bled me more.'
It was hardly above a whisper, and it broke his heart.
'Little miss miracle grow.' She scoffed.
Peter swallowed hard and encouraged her to sip some more water.
Her hands shook unsteadily and she turned to him with wide eyes filled with hope.
'I knew that if they needed my blood, then someone out there was still fighting. I knew you were still looking for me. I never gave up hope.'
Peter's eyes dropped guiltily. He had given up hope. For three years after Claire was kidnapped, he had waged a war against the government facility. He was enraged, furious at Noah for allowing his daughter to be experimented on. Then he found the file, a report on rapid regeneration, saying "the Bennet girl" had been permanently killed and incinerated.
He refused to believe it, he went into a fury and killed most of the scientists associated with the program, and then, eventually, he fell into despair.
Slowly, he helped her to her feet.
'Can you walk?' he asked.
Claire gave an unsteady nod. She looked up at the hallway and trembled.
'We need to get out of here.' She whispered urgently. 'They'll be coming soon.'
Peter was taken aback for a moment, and she continued.
'I think they figured out a way of duplicating my blood or something. They starved me, didn't want to waste tax payers money.' A small laugh escaped her. 'But they'll be here soon. They would have seen…'
Peter's eyes widened in realisation and his heart cut with pain. She still thought she was a prisoner; that the government agents were still in the complex, studying her.
He didn't even know where he could start explaining.
'Come on.' He muttered. 'Let's get out of here before they… realise.'
Claire nodded, her blond curls bouncing slowly. Halfway down the hallway, her fingers clanked around his arm in dread and she froze.
The camera he heard her think.
With a bolt of electricity, Peter destroyed the camera and it exploded into fragments. He mentally made the elevator doors fly open into the empty shaft.
'Do you think you could cope with flying?' he asked, concerned.
Claire looked woozy for a moment and he remembered just how much effort it took for her to walk slowly down the hallway. She became distraught for a moment and he hurried to correct himself.
'Its okay, it's okay. We don't have to fly.' He assured her.
'I'm not used to moving.' She admitted quietly.
Telekinetically, he pulled the elevator towards them and forced the doors open. Claire stepped inside, clutching the bottle of water to her chest like a vice. She stood on the furthest side of the elevator, with her back pressed against the wall.
'That's not fair.' She whispered.
Peter noticed the mirror spanning the wall facing her. Her own reflection must have looked haggard, hollow. A shadow of how she remembered herself. With a sympathetic movement, he stepped between her and the mirror. Automatically, she craned her neck to look over his shoulder.
Peter stepped closer, and she kept on looking at her reflection. He moved until he was directly in front of her, his body blocking her vision completely.
Peter suddenly became hyper aware of how close they were standing. Every nerve ending felt raw and alert. Her breath ghosted over his neck and his hand came to rest protectively on her shoulder.
Something in Claire's body shifted. Her head tilted and her eyes went blank. Her lips parted slightly, but all emotion left her face.
'No, no, no, Claire, don't do this.' Peter urged, brushing hair from her face, but consciously, she was gone.
He led her, in this near-catatonic state, out of the psychic-propelled elevator and to the surface. After jimmying open a car and jolting it to life with an electric shock from his fingertip, he secured Claire in the passenger seat and covered her in his jacket.
His hands slipped from the steering wheel more times than he could count on the way to the small, dingy hotel. Claire was totally lifeless beside him, rolling with every bump in the road and face devoid of expression.
What do you think? Please please please review!