Author's note: Dear God, my favorite character is dead…why Kring, why? I've put up with all the crap and the inconsistencies and this is how you repay me. Remember gang, just 'cause she's dead, doesn't mean we quit writing about her. That always seems to happen and I don't know if I can take it.
So this chapter was supposed to quick bit at company then all Elle and Claire…well, Claire doesn't make it in this chapter. I could have kept writing and given a super long chapter, but it works as a split and I figure you guys waited enough, what with my other story ideas popping up. But, if you prefer longer wait for longer chapters, no guarantee but when it happens to me naturally, or like the somewhat shorter ones, just let me know and I'll try to oblige.
Elle Saves the Day
An Agent, A Villain, An Orphan, And Running Out Of Places To Go
(I can't believe she's dead, I just can't)
Elle nervously paced in the hallway near level five. When she had gotten home (thecompanynotahousenotahome) she was, she discovered that she didn't need to worry about Daddy yelling at her. She didn't have to make elaborate excuses or stories. She didn't have to charm him into submission or make him feel guilty about doubting her. He hadn't even noticed she was gone; when she had found him to make her case, trying to escape punishment, she found out that he thought she had been wallowing in her room (notacellnotacell) all day. Didn't realize that she had been off playing hero with the cheerleader. Didn't realize that she could have died if the circumstances had shifted.
This was a good thing, Elle tried to convince herself, blinking away tears. After all, Daddy's negligence just meant she didn't have to worry about him discovering where she had been all day. It probably wasn't even negligence; Elle had just done a fantastic job getting away unnoticed. She was a great agent, capable of fooling even Daddy. It wasn't Daddy being (colduncaringcruel) too busy to notice, it was her doing what she had been trained to do in an incredibly effective manner. That was it.
Bennet, though, was going to be much harder. Daddy may not notice her little, tiny, white lies, but Bennet is really sharp. She would have to use bit of acting skill and manipulation she had at her disposal. Luckily, most of her life was spent pretending to be someone else, trying on different personalities like outfits, so it shouldn't be that difficult. Right.
Elle took a deep breath, steeling herself, before barging into level five. She walked quickly past the glass cells, head held high and ignoring the jeers and calls of the many prisoners. She stopped in front of Bennet's cell and watched him play with that stupid ball for a moment, waiting for him to see her. She kept a cold, calculating expression on her face, hoping that it would keep her at a distance for a little while. She stood for a minute before deciding that Bennet was being a sore loser and ignoring her, so she entered the room without waiting, a small frown tugging at her lips. Bennet continued to act as if she wasn't there, continued to bounce that goddamn ball, so she decided there was only one way to get his attention. The next time he threw the ball; she shot her hand out and intercepted it. Okay, technically there were two ways, but she was trying to get through this conversation without shocking him. He finally shifts his head to look at her, deceptively calm.
"Elle," he said in a bored tone, not a trace of amusement or curiosity (orangerorhateorfear) showing in his eyes. Elle refused to react, even though her hands were aching to clench or twitch or anything to try and calm her nerves. She wasn't ready for this…this ruse. She can still picture Bennet telling her about unicorns and ponies, remember seeing him move and suddenly feeling the pain of a bullet. She blinks and remembers what she's doing here, what's at risk. She positions herself for the role, anxious and trying to appear in control. It's something that she has a lot of experience with and knows that the only acts Bennet will believe are the ones closest to the truth. Act natural is her internal mantra as she gazes at him with unflinching grey eyes. She is calm, collected, in control. The ball is in her court. She is ready to slowly reel him in, ready to pretend to want to go round two in the weasel information game. The trick is to be smooth, subtle.
"There's no proof, no files or folders, about what you said…with my dad," she blurts, feeling foolish, stupid, for jumping in so obviously about something so true. She wanted to seem wanting, but this had the potential to turn ugly real fast. She reminded herself to not mention the possibility of outside files and continued her plea. "I mean, there is a folder on me, but it's completely empty, not even the bare necessities like starting date or birthday. I mean, there are many possible reasons, reasons that make sense, but I just wanted to see if…if there was anything else…anything I should know about." She turns her head away to hide the tears that had unreasonably and illogically appeared, after all this was a show so she wasn't emotionally involved. She wasn't.
When she looked back, Bennet was still just staring at her coldly, condescendingly. She couldn't pinpoint it, but, for some reason, when she looked at him… it was like he was laughing at her. Something about his eyes, maybe, seemed to mock her. Her stomach dropped out and her blood lit on fire. He thought he had her fooled, but she knew he was trying to play her, get her desperate. He thought she would betray Daddy, the only person who cared about her, for some stupid words. He just wanted to use her, maybe to help him escape or keep his little Claire-bear safe. It was why she didn't, couldn't, trust him and his stupid tales, she didn't know if he was just using truths to manipulate her or if he was spewing lies. She had to get those files… she snapped back to attention, cursing her wandering mind, when Bennet opened his stupid, lying mouth.
"I don't know, Elle. Last time I almost got in very serious trouble. I don't really feel like helping the sociopath for no reason today, especially when it's dangerous for me…what would Bob say?" he replies, and she knows that she isn't imagining the mocking this time. She gnaws at her lip, fighting the urge to scream, to yell, because, really, where would his poor, impressionable cheerleading daughter be if the sociopath hadn't felt like helping for no reason. She shouldn't be too angry, though, because this conversation is working with her plan. But the rage is liquid lightning in her blood and her mouth flies open on her own violation.
"I could make you," she snarls before she realizes exactly what it is she just said. She quickly averts her rapidly coloring face, because she knows where this is going. This, she thinks as Bennet begins to snigger derisively, is why she shouldn't open her mouth when she is angry.
"I believe," Bennet says with a smirk, "that we have already had this conversation and it ended with you realizing how ineffectual your threats are." She narrows her eyes; hearing Bennet's words differently, hearing him call her ineffectual, call her a failure. And this time she stop the sparks from developing, lets them suddenly crawl across her hand. Because this time she has the right words, words she planned on the entire drive home. She saunters over to Bennet, stopping right next to him, and allows the sparks to shoot across her entire body chaotically. She smirks nastily at him, even as he acts unaffected, because she can practically taste victory.
"You're right, of course. I won't get any answers by shocking you. I might even get over excited, and then won't I be in trouble…but that doesn't mean I can't make you talk. In case you forgot, you're stuck in this little cell while everything, everyone, you've tried protect are outside. You can't be a hero from inside these glass walls, can't stop the sociopath from hurting your family," she sneers, lingering on the hateful label at the end. Bennet shoots up in an instant, face exploding into a glare, and she steps back before she can stop herself. An angry Bennet is scary, and she hates herself for that. Inside this small room, with her overflowing with bright blue lights, there is no way he could harm her. Still, she finds him one of the most terrifying people in level five, even without powers. Remembers respecting him, wanting his respect in return. Remembers the horrible sadness and doubt when she heard about Claude, probably her favorite 'one of us.' And remembers the fear of what she doesn't remember. She swallows the fear and crosses her arms, trying to keep a smirk in place.
"If you touch them-"
"You'll do nothing. You sacrificed your ability to do anything. If I touch them, zap them, if I kill them; you won't even know. For all you know, I paid your family a visit last night. Maybe I electrocuted that rat you call a dog, or burned the entire house down. You can't touch me," she snarls at him, interrupting whatever vague threat he was going to come up with.
"The deal was-"
"I know exactly what the deal was, but," and here she grinned maliciously, coating the words with sugar, "what you don't know can't hurt you, and what you can't find out can't hurt me. We'll negotiate the terms of your surrender later. Tootles." Elle turned and strutted out the door, feeling triumphant and wishing she had someone she could boast to, someone on her side.
The rest of the morning was spent on the sidelines, watching events unfold around her. She didn't have to wait long before her father was called to Bennet's cell, her pretending to hide in her room. But she wasn't hiding. In truth, she was a little nervous, but only because everything was going so well. She had never been one for plans, most of her actions were fueled by higher orders or impulsive, spilt second decision, but watching her dominos fall was amazing. She didn't know if she was just lucky or if she was born to be a manipulator, but she had never felt so in control, so powerful, so competent. Watching a scheme unfurl gave her that same feeling of dominance that occurred when she made muscles twitch and spasm under the assault of her electricity.
So when she was called into Daddy's office only an hour after she had spoken with Bennet, and totally manipulated his ass, she was much more confident in the face of a scolding. He was, of course, furious, even though he was trying to remain calm. It was something she could tell a mile away and something he had learned to do when she was young. When he got loud and angry, it basically gave her permission to do the same, which never had very good results. He had long since learned that quiet explanations of why he was so disappointed (ashamedshewasafailure) got the result he desired. But not today, because she was already angry with him and she had a plan the required her to disappoint him. If he was disappointed then she was winning and not a failure.
So she marched into Daddy's office, trying to control her prideful swagger, and sat down in front of him. She kept her eyes of his face and her hands toying with her clothes, occasionally giving out little sparkles. This wasn't Bennet, it was Daddy and for Daddy she had to appear guilty. Otherwise he would get suspicious, although he would be wrong about what because she knew Daddy didn't think she was smart enough to pull off what she was pulling off (she'dshowhim). Guilt also worked because it eventually becomes sorrys and don't be mads. A contrite Elle is a disciplined Elle. She made sure to flinch when Daddy began speaking.
"Elle," he said, trying to get her focused on him, "Do you know why I called you here."
"No," she said quickly, only glancing at him for a second. She doesn't know what Bennet told him; hopefully not that she threatened him for her file, so she has to test the waters. He looks at her through his glasses and she can't tell what he is thinking. She learned to read his moods years ago and, although he seems frustrated, he doesn't seem mad at her.
"For some reason, Bennet decided now would be a good time to request reports on his family," he continues, and Elle holds back a scoff at the thought of Bennet requesting anything, even as a prisoner, "We, of course, had no problem with this. We left his family alone so we had no problem proving it. We did hit a snag, however. It seems Sylar decided to pay the family a visit after you let him escape with a cure for his powers." This really did sting, but she fought through and asked the important, secret keeping question.
"Are they dead? Can…can Sylar…is he invincible?" she asked, keeping a tremor in her voice. It wasn't hard; the thought of an unkillable Sylar was pretty terrifying.
"No, it seems the cheerleader had some fight in her. She stabbed him and somehow knocked him out. The police got involved, because that family can' keep anything under wraps, and we've sent out a recovery team to pick up Sylar. If a cheerleader can hold off Sylar, than so can we. We've, of course, kept Bennet in the dark about the incident, giving him limited information. I brought you in here because it seems like the proper time to inform you of your new status. If Sylar had succeeded, who knows what the repercussions could have been, and it all would have been on your head. We've tried you as a field agent and I think we both agree that it is not working out. Even the cheerleader, who has no offensive power, was able to bring down a Sylar with his powers restored, and yet you, who has been trained your entire life for this type of situation, was unable to bring him down when he was powerless. I don't know what else we can do Elle, I want you to succeed, but your just not working with me. So starting at the end of the week you are to be confined to your room until further notice, until we can figure something else out," he finished, hiding behind his glasses. His tone was filled with a mixture of disapproval and mocking kindness, and Elle lost all of her hard earned confidence.
All her plans were basically gone and she was going to be locked up again, all alone, and she didn't know how to stop it. She ached to tell him that it wasn't Claire that had stopped Sylar, it was her. She had done it, proven herself, and she couldn't tell him, couldn't tell anyone. But she had to do something; she wouldn't let herself be locked up again.
"Daddy, you…you can't. I have been so loyal to you, I…I barely ever disobey you and most things are accidents. I try so hard and…what can I do to prove myself."
"It's too late for that Elle; I have already given you so many chances. We'll do our best to find your proper niche, give you some more training, and we'll see what happens. A few more tests and maybe we can improve your chances on the field a bit," he stated in what Elle guessed was a supposed to be a comforting tone. Elle tried to form words, but all she could do was gasp and sputter with an odd laugh thrown in. She clenched her eyes to stop her tears, but she saw imaginary needles and wires beneath her lids. Tests, if Bennet was telling the truth, meant experiments…god. It was all going so well.
"Fine," she choked out through clenched teeth, standing up abruptly. "I'll take the training and the test and I'll just…just wiz through them. Much faster than the stupid cheerleader would have. I'll be the best agent you have." She doesn't know what he wants to hear, doesn't know what he could possibly expect after hearing those horrible, horrible words, but this is all she can come up with. It's either this or just give in to the explosion of electricity that's building inside of her. She quickly begins to exit the room, unable to even stand the sight of Da—her father.
"Where are you going Elle," he has the nerve to ask and Elle stops next to the door. She takes a breath to clamp down on the electricity building inside of her. She doesn't turn to face him, afraid her face will give away her anger, but answers him with as cheery a voice as she can manage.
"You said I have to the end of the week, right?"
"Yes, we need to get your room relocated and upgraded. It's been a while and I think you deserve something special for being such a trooper."
"Well, if I have the rest of the week, then I am going to make the most of it. I'm going to go get a Slusho and maybe hit the mall, you know, before I'm locked up in captivity." She rushes out of the room before he can say anything else. She tries to stay calm, stay collected, like all the best agents do, but it's really hard at this point. She practically runs down the hall to her room, a room that will soon be nonexistent, and grabs all the essentials, trying to ignore the tiny sparks erupting across her skin. She travels through the familiar hallways, trying not to think that with a quick visit from the Haitian they won't be so familiar. She tries to ignore the way her tiny little sparks have grown into long arches of electricity prickling across her skin, well, hers and an unfortunate grunt that walked to close.
She finally makes it to the parking garage and tries to pick out a car, but the first one she walks near… has an accident. Same with the second one. The third one isn't an accident, because she is a little angry by this point. Elle collapses next to the smoldering pile of metal and tries to collect herself, but instead ends up a sobbing wreck, electricity flowing as quick and hard as tears.
She eventually quiets down and gains control over her powers, although she is shocked to see little burns all across her skin, and decides to give car shopping another try. Luckily, she is sufficiently calm by now, in control enough to hot wire the car just for fun (she'snotsmiling) and takes off into the night. She has a meeting with the cheerleader, after all, no time for feeling sorry for herself. There is time to stop for a Slusho, though.
P.S.- I keep rereading my fics and finding little errors that bug me, so I change them on my copy and will maybe eventually fix on , but it is starting to bug me. I usually posts chapters as soon as I'm done and I can't seem to read over them that soon. If anyone is the slightest bit interested in betaing for me, let me know…I don't really know how to do the whole process of finding one or anything so…
P.P.S. - I was waffling on whether Bob should have done what he did or assign Elle on Claire watch for some reason or another. Claire Watch was actually my first idea, but I couldn't make it seem real, so...yeah. Opinions, right or wrong.
P.P.P.S- apparently hate ~~, who knew.