Disclaimer: I don't Heroes, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission
Feedback: I'd like it, trust me
AN: OK, I know that the last chapter didn't feature that many changes to canon; however, I have a feeling that people will be VERY satisfied with how things turn out here…
It'll be strongly anti-West, I admit it freely, but I can't help it; I really did not like the guy and I just can't bring myself to even try and portray him in a more positive manner
A Leap to Safety
As Claire stood on the stairs leading from the school courtyard to the upper levels, fighting the urge to cry- why couldn't that jerk just shut up for once and realise how much she did not want to talk about her ability?-, the sound of footsteps behind her barely even registered as she fumed over West's actions.
Did that idiot just not care about how she might feel about things? Did he just see her heal and decide 'Hey, I want to be the confidant of the girl with superpowers' or something like that? If she wanted somebody to replace Zach she'd ask for someone to help her explore her powers; couldn't West realise that she didn't want to tell him everything about her abilities?
He was just lucky that it was only her he knew about, if he tried anything to expose what Peter could do…
Well, she had a feeling she'd be repeating what she'd done to Brody Mitchum all over again… except that this time she'd go to more effort o make sure he hurt.
Exposing her was one thing.
If this guy even tried to hurt Peter, when all he'd done with his powers was try to save people even when he'd never even met them and had every reason to believe he'd die even if he succeeded?
That she could never forgive…
"I take it you're annoyed," the voice of the boy in question said from behind her.
Claire couldn't believe it; was this idiot mentally handicapped or something? Could he not see how much what he was doing was hurting her feelings? Did he seriously still think she'd have any interest in talking to him?
"What is it, West?" she asked, turning around to glare at the boy who'd been nothing but a pain in her neck since she'd started here. "Huh? What do you want from me?"
"I want you to admit you're different," West replied, almost sounding like he couldn't understand why she was making such a big deal out of his actions.
His casual attitude, more than anything, was what made Claire finally snap.
"Okay, fine," she said, her voice so low that she felt almost like she was growling at him. "I'm a freak. Alright?"
"Claire-" West began; it was the slightly pitying sigh, combined with the look on his face, that pushed Claire even further over the edge.
"I am such a freak, in fact, that I have to tip-toe around this school pretending to be a brainless Barbie doll so nobody notices how different I am. 'Cause if they found out,-" she paused for a moment, fighting to stop herself from crying at the thought of herself or Peter being captured and treated like some sick experiment, before she continued, "I'd be carted off to some human zoo where I'd be poked and prodded at for the rest of my life. So yeah, West, I'm different. And you can tell the world if you want to because I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not.
"Claire," West said, stepping forward so that he was standing right in front of her. "Shut up."
With that, he reached out, took her in his arms, and before Claire could even object to his actions, she found herself at least several feet off the ground and rising all the time.
Oh my God… Claire thought to herself as she stared out at her surroundings, the ever-decreasing form of Coasta Verda spread out below her as she and West rose upwards until they were literally above the clouds. He can fly…
She knew that this ability was possible, of course- it was her bio-dad's power, after all; even if she'd never seen it in action, Peter had told her what his brother was capable of- but knowing it and seeing it- more, experiencing it- were two totally different things…
Claire had almost lost track of how long and how far the two of them had flown- she knew that they'd spent a bit of time over the ocean before turning back, but she'd stopped looking at her watch after he'd turned towards the coast, and there wasn't exactly any convenient landmarks out there- but eventually West finally turned around and headed back towards the mainland, landing on a coastal beach just a few miles away from where they'd started their wild flight.
For a moment, the two of them simply sat in silence, staring reflectively out at the ocean that they had so recently flown over, before West finally broke the silence.
"Look," he said, turning to face her as he spoke, "sorry I pushed you like that; it's just that… well, what can I say? It's not every day you meet a girl who can do something ascool as what you can do!"
"I've got the cool ability?" Claire replied, shaking her head as she looked at him; it was almost hard to reconcile this enthusiastic wide-eyed kid with the creep he'd been back in school. "I think yours is cooler. Any time your parents get annoying, you can just open the window and… take off."
"Are you kidding?" West said, laughing incredulously at her. "You're indestructible! You can skydive without a parachute!"
"You can skydive without a plane," Claire pointed out.
"Uh…" West said, pausing for a moment after the two exchanged a brief laugh, "you can eat fire just for kicks-"
"I feel pain," Claire corrected, looking pointedly at him as she spoke; the memory of getting most of her flesh nearly burned off her by Ted was something that she felt she'd always remember. "I just… get over it quickly."
"So," West asked, turning to look at her, "how would it feel then, if I…"
He reached up and pinched her left ear. "If I do this."
Claire wasn't sure how it happened after that; one minute West was reaching up to try and pinch her ear again, the next she'd slipped onto her back, he was leaning forward, their lips had met…
As soon as her lips had made contact with his, Claire pulled away, cursing herself simultaneously for kissing him and for not wanting to kiss him.
She couldn't believe; here she was, faced with a cute guy who knew her secret and wasn't freaked out by it-
Claire froze.
That was the reason she'd cut the kiss off like that; the only reason this guy wasn't freaked out by it because he had a power himself.
Hell, the only reason he was even talking to her was because she could 'do something cool'…
He had initially dismissed her as just another blonde girl at school until he'd walked in on her after she'd jumped off that tower in the gym and seen her leg heal like that…
Then he'd spent ages pressuring her to reveal the 'truth' about herself straight away, rather than just making more of an effort to get to know her and wait until she felt comfortable telling him about it in her own time…
And now that he knew her secret and she knew his… what?
Did West honestly think that she'd like him any more than she had earlier just because he had a power like she did?
OK, so maybe she'd have gone along with it if she had been on her own with her secret- having to keep this kind of thing quiet from everybody was a bit frustrating, to say the least; West might have been a jerk, but at least he was a jerk who had some idea of what it was like for her-, but the fact of the matter was…
She wasn't alone.
Even if he didn't remember what they'd been through, she had Peter Petrelli- her hero, her protector, the man she (her uncle; she would not think… the other thing)- in her life once again.
Compared to him, even without his earlier pain-in-the-neck, tell-me-the-truth-because-I-want-to-know attitude to take into account, West was such a child he barely even deserved to be more than an afterthought when Peter was still in her life.
"What?" West asked, breaking into her train of thought as he reached up for her face as though he wanted to continue where they'd left off. "Is something wrong?"
That, more than anything, made Claire's mind up; at least Peter always knew when something was wrong.
Plus, of course, there was the simple fact that he had never made her as uncomfortable as West had made her feel these last few days unless he had a good reason; she might not have liked the fact that he'd wanted her to shoot him in the head if he lost control, but at least he'd only asked her to do it because he wanted to be certain he wouldn't hurt anybody.
"Take me home," she said, standing up and staring coldly down at him.
"What?" West replied, standing up to look back at her (Claire was convinced he'd only done that to try and gain the height advantage, but it wasn't going to work; after seeing Sylar cut Jackie's head partly in half and Ted and Peter nearly triggering the new Hiroshima right in front of her, this guy wasn't even close to being scary). "But I thought we-"
"I said," Claire repeated, folding her arms resolutely as she turned to look directly at West, "take. Me. Home. OK?"
She knew that she was being a bit blunt, but right now she was more concerned about making a point than making a good impression; she'd already made one mistake with this guy- coming out this far from home- and she was not about to make another one.
West might have a power, but that didn't mean she wanted to spend more time with him than she had to; he was still the same pain in the neck he'd been earlier, and the fact that he could fly didn't do anything to change that.
She'd just be nice enough to him right now to guarantee that he'd take her back rather than leave her all the way out here to make her own way back to Coasta Verda, but after that, she'd be perfectly satisfied if she never spoke to this guy again.
As Noah Bennet sat in front of his computer, waiting patiently for Doctor Suresh's latest check-in, he wished that he could regain the same sense of control he'd had when he was working for the Company now that he was working against them.
It had all been going fairly well so far, of course- Mohinder was in with the main players of the Company without anyone being any the wiser, the Haitian was back, they had a clear goal in mind in their search for the Series of Eight-, but the continued uncertainty of Peter's presence in his family's life added an uncertain 'X-Factor' to his plans that he didn't particularly like.
And as for everything the Haitian had said about a 'bond' between Peter and Claire that was 'greater than biology'…
He wasn't sure if he should be worried about the implications there or not. Even if the Haitian was implying what he thought he was, surely neither of them would actually do anything about it; Peter was too noble a person to get involved with someone Claire's age even if he didn't remember their biological connection, and Claire wouldn't try anything when Peter didn't even remember who he was…
The ringing of his cellphone distracted him from his inner reflections, prompting him to reach into his pocket and answer it, only briefly glancing at the number to confirm that it was Mohinder.
"Hello," he said, grateful to hear from the other man again; at least that part of the plan was still working out like he'd expected. "How are things going over there?"
"They're moving the paintings somewhere," Mohinder said; his hurried tone, coupled with the sound of movement suggesting that paintings were being removed from boxes and examined, made it clear to Noah that he had simply seized the first available free moments available to him to call, most likely while his 'supervisor'- whoever it was- had stepped outside for some reason. "There's only a few crates left- This was a terrible idea, this guy's watching my every move; I can't do this, I'm in over my head-"
"I told you," Noah said, his own voice calm as he spoke, trying to reassure the Indian doctor- the man's heart was in the right place but his lack of experience in these matters didn't exactly help him-, "you have no reason to worry; as long as I'm alive, you will be taken care of."
"That's exactly the problem," Mohinder replied grimly; the faint sound of motion on the other end suggested that he'd pulled a painting out of a box.
"What are you talking about?" Noah asked, allowing only the slightest trace of confusion to enter his voice; if he gave the impression that he didn't feel in control of the situation, whatever faith Mohinder had in him to keep him safe would be at the very least significantly weakened.
"I'm sending you a JPEG of a painting I found," Mohinder replied, prompting Noah to turn around and activate the necessary program on his laptop to receive the image. "The rest have been shipped off somewhere. It's the last in the series; Eight of Eight."
"We know how it begins," Noah said, his eyes automatically directed at the only image of the Series of Eight they possessed; Kaito's body lying on the ground, surrounded by blood. "With the death of Kaito Nakamura… but how does it end?"
"Not well, I'm afraid," Mohinder replied grimly.
As the image finally completed its transmission and appeared on his screen, Noah could only state in shock at the picture before him.
It was him- it couldn't be anyone else; he even recognised the shirt he was wearing-, lying on the ground, the left lense of his glasses cracked and what was clearly a bullet-hole in his left eye.
It was the figures behind his body that shocked him the most, however.
Mendez's painting style didn't make it clear, of course- the graphic novel medium may have helped him pay his bills but sometimes it made it hard to read faces; it was one reason Noah had never really managed to get into the genre even after he'd started work at the Company-, and the male figure was so dark that it was hard to be certain, but it looked worryingly like Claire was standing over his body, kissing Peter Petrelli…
No, Bennett reminded himself, looking probingly at the picture before him.
The injury he'd sustained in the image might be undeniably fatal, but he'd learned the hard way when he was trying to save Claire from Sylar that Isaac's paintings gave no indication of context; just because it looked like Peter was kissing Claire here didn't mean that he was- he could just as easily have been comforting her as she cried; expressions weren't exactly the man's speciality when only part of the face was shown-, even assuming it was Peter in the picture before him…
Glancing off to the side, Noah saw Claire standing outside the glass door that separated his new 'office' from the rest of the house, prompting him to quickly close the window showing the painting- the last thing he needed was for them to get into another argument, and he had little doubt that there'd be one if Claire saw the picture wanted to know what he was doing looking at something like that- as he turned to look at her.
After the two of them had stared silently at each other for a moment, Noah took it upon himself to break the silence.
"Night, Claire," he said simply.
"Night, Dad," Claire replied, her own tone giving away nothing about what she might or might not have seen- it could just as easily have been the result of a tiring day at school as it could have been her disliking his attempts to conceal the image from her- before she turned around and walked away towards the stairs.
As her footsteps faded, Noah activated the picture again, staring silently at it for a few moments as he studied the figures standing behind his body.
Now that he thought about it, the way Claire's skirt was spread out could suggest that she'd been moving before the moment when Isaac painted the picture; maybe Peter- or whoever the man was- had grabbed her as she ran to stop her from really seeing his body, and her eyes were closed because she'd been crying or something…
No, Noah told himself.
Trying to read a deeper meaning in the painting was pointless until he actually knew more about the events that had led up to it, and he would only learn that once he or Mohinder had found more of the Series of Eight.
Until then, he reflected as he closed his laptop, all he could do was try and avoid being in a position where he'd be likely to get shot and hope that would be enough…
