Chapter One : Killer Eyes
When Claire Bennett found her power, she thought nothing more than the freak she became, wondered why she couldn't be the same like everyone else, and why she had to have this curse. No one should be able to heal from every cut, every burn, every chance at death as she could. Why was she special? Why was she given this ability of immortality? While she had these questions, it was soon that Claire found that she was not the only one to be asking them. People were out there like her, with their own uniqueness that combated their entire world view. They were a new species, a species that was as disastrous and scary as any other. They were people who hated her abilities, chased her down because she was too dangerous, or they simply wanted it all on her own. Claire was tortured, killed, and in some ways violated just to be for someone's amusement or lab rat. Years she has tried to live normally, like a normal human being she wanted to be. Though that was nearly impossible, she soon realized that when her father was hunting down people like her, some serial killer wanted her powers, and friends kept dying unlike her. Claire can always recover. They can still bleed. Claire can always live if she hides and lets the world die around her.
It was the night of the carnival when she found the chance to finally be free.
"Keep the cameras on me."
Eyes trailed her as she climbed to the top of the ferris wheel, some in person and most through the glass of televisions around the world. Tonight, she will change history. Tonight will be the beginning of a new world. They will finally see who she is, that people like her are out there, so they can all come out of hiding and live in peace just like they're meant to. In reality, they were all human. They deserve to live in a world where they are accepted. When Claire Bennet stands on top, turning to face the cameras below her, she pauses for just a moment to capture their interested faces.
She finds her father first, his horn rimmed glasses sticking out amongst the crowd, his eyes betraying the heart she breaks by doing this act. Noah wanted to protect her from the world, but by doing so, they would never evolve into something worth living for. Her eyes caught the quizzical gazes of Hiro and Ando, as if they were pondering why she would jump. That was obvious, Claire was the beginning of their future. Finally, she turned to see Peter and Sylar, causing her heart to skip a beat. While her uncle was shocked, it was the serial killer beside him, and the way he smiled at her did a shiver roll down her spine. Why was Sylar there? Why was he smiling? Why was Peter just letting him get so close? It didn't matter for now. She was not about to let Sylar ruin everything. With a hardened look, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her weight drop her forward.
'It's a brave new world' a thought whispered in her mind as she felt the ground meet her body, and a wave of gasps from the reporters echoed. Feeling nothing, she picked herself up, reaching her shoulder to pop it back in place. At once, a swarm of cameras flashed in her face as she stared at the screen in front of her.
"My name is Claire Bennett, and this is attempt number…" She laughed softly, finally looking back at the ridiculousness of it all. Tonight, the world finally knows. "I guess I kind of lost count."
Claire wishes to say the rest was history, that everyone lived happily ever after, and she was finally free to be who she was in public. Only, that was far from what happened, or what has yet to come. New reporters were rambling on, ramming her with questions and demanding her for answers, but Claire was not willing to say something just yet, not without the others by her side. They are meant to do this together as a family. She cranes her neck up, searching for her father, searching for Peter, but neither of them were visible over the crowd. Everyone was blocking her way. The reporters had now multiplied and become merciless, tearing at her arms, pulling towards sets of video cameras, scratching, or even punching her to see if her regeneration ability worked. While Claire felt no pain, her fear of them spiked.
"Dad!" She called over the shouts, pushing her way through them. "Dad?!" It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move more than a few feet without being bombarded again. "DAD!"
She could hardly see over their heads, but through a split second, Claire spotted her group of colleagues gathering, each saying things to each other, most likely scrambling to find a way out or for her to be freed, and her eyes landed on Sylar, who had not moved an inch and continued to smile. A glare made its way to her face, wondering in disgust why he continued to stare. Had he not seen enough for his own amusement? For his own entertainment? Claire tore her eyes away from the evil ones, finding that not only had the group scattered, but now only Peter remained with the psychopath. He stared at her from a distance, frowning deeply for an unknown reason, before he disappeared entirely. Sylar's smile disappeared, replaced by a terse frown . She stared in bafflement and terror. How could they all leave? Why did her friends go?
A hand, different from the others, clamped down onto her arm, and she looked up, finding Peter's sad gaze. Before she could process more about the use of Hiro's borrowed power, her uncle spoke.
"I'm sorry, Claire, but you have no idea what you have done," he said, and her eyebrows furrowed. Peter shut his eyes, and before she knew it, Claire was somewhere else, transported to a different place, the ruckus of the reporters and the hustling of New York completely gone. More importantly, despite not knowing where she was apart from what looked to be a small room, Claire was all alone, with Peter nowhere in sight.
Confusion was the first thing that was set in her heart, followed by annoyance at Peter for sending her here, then finalizing in panic when she had no idea how to get back home. "Damn you, Peter," she muttered under her breath, which was then sucked out of her lungs when the doors to this metal pocket opened, and she was staring up a weird version of dark eyes she had last seen. Whether or not they belonged on a slightly different face, those eyes held the same vicious intent as ever.
"Sylar," she spat, now realizing that this was all his fault somehow. Sylar tilted his head, strangely pointed eyebrows and equally stupid elf-like ears giving off an alien condescending nature. The man in a blue designed shirt and badge narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, stepping into the room, closer to her, and pressing a button on a panel beside them, closing the door. Claire took an immediate step back, putting as much distance between her and him.
"You are not a part of this crew. Based on your clothing, you do not belong in Starfleet. You are an Earth civilian. How you managed to come aboard is unknown to me, so I ask you this question: who are you?" He asked. Claire felt a wave of disgust come over her, hearing his voice unusually calm and soft, while his demeanor didn't seem to express anything more than suspicion.
"Drop the act, Sylar. Where the hell are we?" She spat instead, staring daggers into him. "What the hell do you mean crew? And why are you wearing that stupid disguise with those elf ears—" In a moment of bravery, she reached up to the side of his head and tugged hard at his ear, catching him by surprise by his pained grunt. It made her lips twitch with a wicked satisfaction, seeing his discomfort, only the moment was short lived when he slapped her arm away and slammed her against the back wall, holding her in place by the simple base of arm. Her eyes widened in fear, seeing a recognizable darkness burning in his eyes that no form he shapeshifted into could alter. The deep breaths he dragged onto her face abruptly calmed, his face forcing to return to its impassiveness. He still did not let her go, however.
"You are aboard the starship U.S.S. Enterprise, and my appearance is not relevant," he continued albeit coldly. "I ask for your identity and the reason why you are aboard."
She clenched her teeth, angry at this mockery Sylar was making her go through. Knowing that provoking a man who can easily make her life miserable, or worse, she decided to humor him. "Claire," she clipped. "I got here because Peter teleported me using Hiro's ability. Why did he send me here of all places, I have no idea, but I don't think it was a mistake." Her eyes narrowed into slits. "You brought me here. That's the only explanation why. You bastard."
He studied her for just a moment longer, as if analyzing her like one of his stupid watches. Claire scooted as close to the wall as possible, only for the pressure on her chest to suddenly leave. Sylar kept his gaze stern but calm as he addressed her.
"I am not who you believe I am," he said passively. "My name is Spock, and I must take you to see the Captain." He leaned over to press the button again, suddenly causing the room they were in to move smoothly up. 'Must be some kind of elevator,' Claire thought, bracing herself as the man stepped back. She did not believe his words, however. How stupid did he think she was? Sylar was up to something, and he wanted her. Probably to find out more answers to his odd questions like the ones he asked during her stay at college, but whatever the reason, he has the mentality to do it in this weird form, taking on this identity.
Claire leaned forward. "It doesn't matter what form you shapeshift into," she hissed quietly, betting that the super hearing he stole picked it up perfectly. "You're always going to have blood on your hands."
Something in his dull gaze changed. It was so small that Claire barely noticed it, but she didn't care anyway. This changes nothing.
Just then, the doors opened to reveal a large room filled with such technology, glass, and lights that Claire had to blink multiple times to register the area around her. The people within the room were dressed in a uniform like Sylar's, only instead of the blue, some wore gold or red; not only did they possess the appearance of humans, but some of them were… different. They either had scales, weird shaped heads, freakishly large eyes, or even a glass dome to show a bunch of mechanical parts attached behind their head. Claire felt woozy, seriously wondering if this was some weird nerd convention or if she was really in a… what did Sylar say, a starship? Sounds like something Hiro might ramble about. She realized that Sylar had yet to move, waiting for her to step through. Annoyed, she walked forward, reaching the middle where a man in gold sat in a center chair overlooking the room, pointed toward a glass screen filled with nothing but darkness and freckles of light.
The young man in gold stood, blue eyes piercing her in a sense of alarm, confusion, and most of all, curiosity. While his eyes remained on her, he spoke to Sylar, though acknowledged him by the other name. "Commander Spock, last time I checked, we didn't pick up new recruits in the middle of deep space. Give me a run down, will you?"
"She says her name is Claire and claims to have been transported onto the Enterprise by someone named Peter," Sylar explained, keeping his entire stature straight. It was weird seeing him so willing to give up information rather than take it himself. Seeing Sylar in a position to follow orders rather than be the one in control caused Claire to wither in distrust. "However, it is certain that wherever her original destination may be, it had been miscalculated, causing her to end up here."
"That's 'cause you're the one that brought me here, asshole!" She shouted, causing most people to look in their direction.
"That is not true," Sylar began, but she interrupted with a frustrated huff and a cross of her arms.
The man in gold hummed before smiling at her, both amused and unnerved, offering his hand out in a shake. Claire looked at him warily before doing so — everything felt real, and she could even feel the warmth of his hand. It couldn't be the use of Matt Parkman's powers or some kind of illusion that Sylar may have used. She refocused when the man continued to speak, beginning to introduce himself. "I'm James T. Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise. We might not know a lot about you, Claire, but I'm sure that we can find out and find a safe way for you to get back home. If you don't mind, let's talk more privately in the briefing room."
Claire gave a short nod, body tense, and eyes hardened. James Kirk never let down his smile, which unnerved her, as he began to make his way to the opposite side of the elevator, calling back to the group in the room.
"Mr. Spock, you're with us. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."
She did not hide the look of disdain when Sylar's gaze dropped onto her when his name was called, now feeling all the more trapped to be in a room with a stranger and a murderer. Her eyes remained fixated on his, not willing to stand down against his strength, but their attention needed to be cut as they walked down the hallway, entering a room at the far left. The briefing room was nothing more than what she expected: a room to conduct meetings in; apart from the window looking out into space, nothing seemed to catch her interest. Claire sat at one of the seven seats while Captain Kirk sat across from her, only to stiffen when Sylar sat deliberately beside her, surprising not only her but Kirk as well.
Kirk folded his hands over the table, a warm smile reappearing, as Sylar pulled up what seemed to be a tablet of sorts and began to type into it. "So, Claire, tell me: where are you from?"
She decides that even if this all might be a hoax created by the man she hates the most, she can at least get information out of the Captain as well. "I travel a lot," Claire answered with a shrug. "I've never been stuck in the same spot for too long, and I never knew where I was born after my birth parents abandoned me."
The Captain nodded. "How about this: what's the last thing you remember before you came aboard?"
She sighed heavily, trying to think of a way to explain her situation without freaking out Kirk, but considering that he believes that Sylar is not Sylar, she opts to keep her mind open. After all, what's the difference hiding this from them when the whole world practically knows about people like her now. "I was in New York city in a carnival where I had been held hostage by some earth-wielding lunatic that wanted to wipe out half of the city, where I was then surrounded by reporters and newscasters after I fell from a ferris wheel, surviving the fall to let the world know that people with abilities do exist." She paused for a moment, frowning as she thought of the next memory. "My uncle who was like me, but with the ability to borrow someone else's power, transported me out of there, but I thought that I was going somewhere I knew, not in this place. And especially not with him," Claire pointedly glares at Sylar, who raises an eyebrow, saying nothing.
"What do you mean people with abilities?" The Captain continues to question.
"Well, think of it like powers. I don't really know the science of it, but one day several years ago, most of us were given different kinds of abilities: like flight, telepathy, telekinesis, uh, the ability to control time and space. Mine…" Claire paused, looking around for a moment, before snatching the tablet held in Sylar's hands and smashing it against the table with an efficient smash. The onlookers could only stare as she grabbed a piece of glass, already hearing the protest of Kirk, before she sliced the skin of her hand. Claire held it up so the man could see it patch itself up. The only mark of damage was the remaining blood staining her healthy limb. She couldn't help but smirk at Kirk's dumbfounded face. "I have the power to regenerate."
"Holy shit…" James Kirk muttered, seeming to be in complete awe. "That's… That's… woah."
Claire makes the move to speak again, only for a deeper voice to interfere, causing another wave of fear to sweep her body. She stiffens in her seat, remembering who sat not three feet beside her. "Claire," Sylar begins, eyes resting on her, hating the way he says her name so easily. "When you made the move to jump off the 'ferris wheel', what date was it?"
For an honest moment, she felt like grabbing the shard of glass again and slicing it through his neck, despite knowing it would heal all over again. Claire frowned in confusion instead, shaking her head for just a moment, but answering before she could stop herself. "Uh, November, I think. 2010."
Suddenly, both Sylar and Kirk exchanged glances that she could not decipher. The latter of the two cleared his throat, leaning forward, and his face turned serious. "Claire, if what you're saying is true, then whoever transported you here may not just have sent you to a different place, but a different time." Claire narrowed her eyes, not understanding. There was a small sigh that followed. "Computer," the box at the center of the table beeped. "State the current stardate and calculate the time passed from 2010."
"Working…" It was a lady's automated voice that came from the speaker. "The current stardate is 2255.76. By Earth's estimate, it is March 16th, 2255. Since the year 2010, approximately 245 years have passed."
It hit Claire like a train. The world around her vanished for just the moment as the words repeated in her mind: '245 years have passed. 245 years have passed.' How is that even possible? Could Hiro's ability even go that far? She doesn't doubt it, not with the power handled by the master of time and space. Claire felt nauseous at the thought of spending her life in a different time, in a different world, too far to even return home. She now cursed her powers of regeneration, instead hoping to have it similar to Peter's powers so she can go back. But… she was stuck here. With no way home and no way to go back to her family, she's stuck here alone on this stupid ship. And with Sylar. The thought of him being responsible made her blood boil. Claire looked up to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but professionalism in his eyes, as if he was innocent in this game. She wanted nothing more than to tear his ears off and rip his eyes out of their sockets, knowing that he could still experience much pain than her. Claire would have her chance, but stewing in her own disdain was all she could do at the moment.
Claire hadn't realized that James Kirk was talking, snapping her back into attention. "... you can take the guest quarters until we figure out how we can help you. Our Chief Medical Officer will meet you there to get you settled and run over some tests, in case you are carrying any infections or diseases that might be harmful to the rest of us." She said nothing about that being a waste of time. Kirk raised his hand toward the entrance of the room, where a person in a red shirt stood, the woman's arrival having escaped Claire. "This is Lieutenant Uhura, our communications expert. She can help you get there."
Uhura smiled kindly at her. "It's nice to meet you, Claire."
She gave a short nod along with a forced smile. "Yeah, hi." Claire looked back to Kirk as she stood, avoiding the dark eyes she knew remained on her. "So, is it possible to send me back?"
"We don't know, but that doesn't mean we won't try our best. You'll be the first to know if we're onto something."
With a final nod, Claire was led out of the room, managing to spot a final glance at the two remaining ones quietly speaking before the doors fully shut. The walk to the guest quarters was mildly short, with the occasional comment from Uhura explaining their location and her ability to find where to go by asking the ship's computer. The woman went on to share more about herself, even asking Claire some things about her life, and while she appreciated the effort to try to make her comfortable, she was not fully invested in the conversation. By the time they arrived at the room she was staying in, Claire paused at her door, stopping Uhura before she went too far.
"What do you know about Commander Spock?" Claire asked, trying her hardest not to say the name in venom. Uhura raised her eyebrows, a slight smile appearing on her face.
"Much more than you think," she said happily. "He's a Vulcan with human genetics, our First Officer and Chief Science Officer. He used to be a professor at Starfleet Academy, so I've known him for a few years now." Her smile turned soft. "Look, the Commander may not look like someone who's up to make any friends or special connections, but get to know him a bit more. You'll find that he's more complex than an emotionless alien."
Claire couldn't help but scoff. "Yeah, I know him too, and if you think that he's just 'complex', then he's obviously got you wrapped around his finger." She moved her arm forward, causing the door to swish open. It's weird not opening a door using a knob. Claire looked back at the carefully blank face of Uhura, completely serious. "Don't let him get you. You'll regret it too late."
Uhura's expression didn't change, so she wondered if she got through to her. The communications expert gave a short nod. "I'll see you later, Claire," she said before going off back to her duties.
She shook her head, going inside where the light turned on from her presence. The room was divided into two, with one half being just a desk and chair while the other had the bed and drawer. Claire stood in front of the mirror beside it, finally seeing her dirty face and matted clothing from when she jumped off the ferris wheel. 'I'll have to take a shower,' she thought, but decided to wait until the doctor arrived. It was not long until her door was knocked upon, though she hesitated when she realized that there was no handle to open.
"Uh, come in!" The door, as hoped, opened when a new figure entered. The man who stood before her wore the same blue as Sylar, only standing with a bit more seriousness and authority that caused her to nearly shrink back.
"Hiya, lil' lady, the name's Leonard McCoy. I'm the ship's doctor," said the man in a smothered southern accent, taking her by slight surprise. McCoy strode forward to place a metal case on the table, motioning her to sit on the chair beside it. Cautiously, she complied, watching him carefully as he pulled out a small device and what could only be a weird looking syringe from the box. As the doctor begins to hold the device near her, a soft whirring sound emanates from it, causing her to lean back. "Now, don't you worry, this thing is harmless. I'm just checkin' if yer injured or might be carryin' something that might transmit to us."
Clarie settled just a bit, allowing him to continue. "Now, the Captain told me that yer not from here, nor at this time. I can see how that might frighten ya, but you don't have nothin' to worry about. He also told me that you have some sort of, eh, ability?" She saw his expression waver, as if not believing the words his superior must have told. "The power to regenerate any injuries? Now, I don't say I don't believe ya, 'cause there are some species out there that can do what you do, but you look as human to me as you do with anyone else." McCoy paused, placing the device down to grab the syringe. "This is a hypo. If ya don't mind, I'd like to collect some of yer blood and look it through. I want to be sure that it won't meddle with the people aboard this ship. But, you can always say 'no' if yer not comfortable with it."
Claire flickered her gaze, remembering the last time someone took her blood. She stared up at the soft eyes of the doctor, finding nothing malicious as the ones Sylar bore or as friendly as Kirk's, so she found no ill intentions from behind the man's words. Furthermore, they did not directly need her blood more than once if there were other people with similar conditions. With that in mind, Claire rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm. McCoy smiled in thanks before pinning the hypo against it. She felt a prink, no pain, and watched as the canister filled to the top. When done, McCoy pulled out another device, about to hold it over the small wound, only to pause when it was nowhere to be found. His eyes found hers, and she shrugged.
"Huh," was all he said before putting away all the devices.
McCoy grabbed his bag, pointing to the drawer beside the bed. "You can get yer clothes there, it has some non-regulation spares. If ya need a different size, let the computer know, and a yeoman will bring 'em down fer ya." Claire nodded in appreciation, and he moved to the door. "It was nice to meet ya, lil' lady. If ya need something from me, you can find me either in sickbay, my office, or up at the bridge. Before I go, here—" He handed her another device that closely resembled a flip phone, but with more dials instead of buttons. "This here is a communicator, or a phone from where yer from. Just press this button to turn it on, and turn this dial to change frequencies based on who you can contact. My code is 236 if ya want to reach me."
"Thanks, that's really helpful," she gave a small smile, noting to remember it. McCoy did the same, even if it looked like a withered smirk. When he left, Claire placed the communicator down on the desk and picked up the clothes in the drawer, finding them to be a decent size before going to the shower, knowing that now she has time to get some rest before finding out what the hell she was going to do.
TBC…