Death Wish
Title: Death Wish
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Sylar/Claire...appearance by Gretchen
Warnings: talk of character death, suicide, language
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, just borrowing their characters...don't sue me.
Summary: Claire has a death wish, will Sylar of all people talk her out of it.
A.N.: I haven't really edited this much. Any mistakes are mine. I'm pretty tired and I probably won't go back to proofread until later. Read at your own risk. Also, for some reason I like the idea of Sylar sneaking up on Claire in her room, apparently that's the setting I'm comfortable with for now. We shall see if I branch out later.
"I'll be back late tonight, I've a huge exam tomorrow so I'll be spending most of the night in the library." Gretchen paused, her lanky form fidgeting as she studied Claire's face for a moment. "But um I'm not doing anything tomorrow night if you know...you want to hang out...talk."
Claire smiled at her friend from her bed where she had been lounging and flipping through a text book she'd been pretending to read. She felt a twinge of guilt as she kept the tight smile in place. She knew she had been distant the past few weeks. With everything that had happened lately in the nightmarish hell that was her life, Gretchen had tried to be there for her in every way possible. As a roommate, a friend...something more. It was the something more that made Claire pause. The kiss she and Gretchen had shared awhile ago had been nice, sweet even, but she didn't want anything to get between the friendship they had built, and while the kiss had been a pleasant surprise, she was pretty sure there was no real attraction for Gretchen there. It had just been so long since she had had a normal friend and awhile since she had been kissed, so the experience all together had just been nice. But that was it, and she doubted nice was the kind of reaction Gretchen had been hoping for. She didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings so she hadn't mentioned it, but she couldn't help but notice the hopeful doe eyed looks her roommate had been giving her as of late. She was afraid the subject was going to come up sooner than later, and as selfish as it may sound, with all that was going on with her right now, having that discussion was not on her list of top priorities. But at the same time she figured Gretchen wasn't going to remain silent on the subject forever.
Rising, she swept her hair into a sloppy ponytail and managed another smile for her friend. "That sounds nice, maybe we can order in some pizza and watch a few cheesy movies."
Gretchen returned the smile, her whole face lighting up at the idea of spending the night hanging out with Claire. "That would be great." As she pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and turned to leave she shot Claire a glance. "But um...I would like to talk to you though...you know..about some other things."
Claire didn't have to ask what the 'other things' were, but she forced her smile to remain in place and walked over to her dresser, looking at her own reflection in her mirror she watched as she spoke to Gretchen.
"Sure thing."
Relaxing slightly Gretchen opened the door leading out to the hallway. Pausing, she looked back at Claire. "You gonna be alright...I mean um, I can stay here, study in the room."
Claire sighed as she walked over to Gretchen giving her a slight nudge out the door. "I'm fine. Really, go study, go be smart, I'll be here when you get back." She promised. Pushing her fully out of the room she shut the door gently before her friend could protest. Sighing she rested her head against the smooth wood of the door and closed her tired eyes. The silence of the empty room was relaxing and she could feel some of the weight of the stress she had been carrying around that day slowly start to fade away.
"She's not your type you know."
Her heart froze. She literally could feel it stop in her chest, before it began to beat rapidly threatening to pound its way out of her body. Her vision blurred slightly, and the cold fingers of fear and panic began to claw their way up her throat. Feeling her body begin to tremble she took a moment to compose herself, silently telling herself not to give him the reaction he craved from her. Taking a deep breath she turned to face him, giving him what she hoped looked like a cool and composed look.
"And I suppose you think tall, dark, and psycho is?"
His mouth turned up slightly in a half smile. He was leaning casually against her open window and she silently cursed the university for never getting around to filling the work order she and Gretchen had put in weeks ago for window screens.
"I live and breathe waiting for the day." He said in a silky voice.
Ignoring him, she eyed him warily. "Ever consider knocking?"
"Doubtful you would have let me in." He replied casually.
"Doubtful that would have stopped you." She snapped.
He merely shrugged. It was only when he straightened to his full full height that Clare noticed he had a flower in his hand. He was twirling it idly between his fingers, the white petals bright against his dark attire. His eyes caught her staring at it and he smirked at her.
"I thought a daisy would suit you."
She sneered at him. "I prefer roses."
"No you don't."
It was a simple statement but it was true. She loved daisies. They were so simple, so pretty, so friendly. The white flower looked so out of place in the hands of the killer before her. She knew it was silly, but she wanted to grab it from him, save it from the touch of the man in front of her. As if reading her thoughts he extended his hand offering the gift to her. Uncertain she took a step forward, slowly reaching for it, afraid it was a trick, afraid it might suddenly burst into flame. Gathering confidence she snatched it from him and stepped back resisting the urge to bury her face in it's petals and inhale.
"What are you doing here Sylar?" She questioned focusing her green eyes on his dark ones.
"I came here to see you Claire."
She scowled. "Obviously."
"Obviously." He repeated grinning.
His grin sparked a flame of anger, she could feel it begin it's course through her body, threatening to combust into full blown rage. "Come here to kill me?" She questioned. "Finish off my dysfunctional family? You got my mom and dad, why not add me to your collection?"
He made a grim face, while he appreciated Claire the most when her eyes flashed like hot green flames, and her body struggled to control her anger, he did not appreciate her statement, nor the question. "They weren't your mom and dad Claire. Not really, just because they were forced back into your life doesn't make them your loving parents. Biologically yes they were yours, but they didn't deserve you. Weren't right for you...Nathan most of all." He paused and before he could stop the words he was apologizing. "I am sorry though...I wish I hadn't caused you such pain."
He had said the last words so softly she almost hadn't heard him...almost. And she despised him at that moment for saying them. He didn't deserve to apologize to her, he didn't deserve to speak to her. Not just because he was her parents killer, but because there was a part of him that was right. She knew she had embraced Nathan and Meredith all too quickly. They had both been selfish and flawed, but weren't they all? Turning her gaze to the flower, she bit her lip as she felt the threat of tears at her eyes and a burning sensation in her throat. No. She willed herself, you will not cry. Not in front of him. She wouldn't allow herself.
"You keep telling yourself that Sylar. If that makes you feel better about killing them you go right ahead. Whatever helps your sleep at night."
Ignoring her statement, he addressed her earlier comment. "I didn't come here to kill you Claire, and we both know I couldn't even if I tried."
The rage unleashed in her and rose fast and strong, taking ahold of her and surprising her into action. "That's bullshit and we both know it. You wanna kill me Sylar? Go ahead. We both know all it takes is one good shot to the back of the head." Furious she dropped the flower and stalked past him, over to her desk. Grabbing a pair of scissors she thrust them into his hand, and ignored the surprised look that played across his features. Turning her back to him she slapped the back of her head. "Go on, do it, get it over with."
Disgusted he threw the scissors back on her desk. "I'm not going to kill you Claire."
Feeling the rage all but spill out of her she whirled around facing him. "Why because I'm not begging for my life? Because I'm not pleading for you to just let me go? Because I'm not praying to God that you'll let me live?" Unable to control herself she took a step forward and gave him one strong shove. He barely moved, but she felt a bit of satisfaction at the flash of annoyance that crossed his face.
"Coward." She spat at him as she shoved him again.
"Claire calm down." He said in a soft voiced laced with warning.
"No!" She shouted. "You don't get to tell me to calm down and you don't get to choose when you want to kill me! You don't get to decide when it's convenient for you." Stalking back to the desk she picked up the scissors and threw them at him watching as they hit him smartly in the middle of his chest.
"Do it!" She screamed, not realizing that tears were falling freely down her cheeks. "Do it!"
He looked away from her unable to watch as she crumbled before him. This wasn't why he had come to her. He hadn't meant to hurt her again. He just needed to see her. Needed to talk to her, needed to find out why it was her. Why it was her he desired most in the world why it was herface tattooed on his arm. As he watched her fuming in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling, and eyes heavy with tears, he knew it was simple. He loved her. He wanted her love. She would be his one and only constant when the world continued to change around them. He felt pathetic and weak for wanting and needing something as much as he did her. He was Sylar arguably the most powerful man in the world. He could have anything, take anything, and it would be easy for him, so easy. But he didn't want to take her, he wanted her to take him, embrace him, love him, be with him, stand with him. It was humbling to know what she had reduced him to, how her face appearing on his arm had changed him. He didn't think it would be easy to sway her. He supposed it could take years, centuries even, but he had to start somewhere.
"Pick up the scissor Sylar!" She screamed, ripping him from his thoughts. "Pick them up and just do it! Kill me."
Glancing down at the pair of silver scissors on the floor in front of him he used his telekinesis, to bring them to his hands. He held them, staring down at them a moment he closed his eyes. "You don't have a death wish Claire."
"Shut up. Just shut up!" She sobbed, not wanting him of all people to try and talk her out of her sudden and fucked up suicide attempt. Wiping angrily at her tears she looked him straight in the eye. "You owe me this."
"I'm not going to kill you."
She continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "Everyone in my life has let me down, everyone in my life has lied to me, betrayed me, died on me. I can't...I just can't." She hiccuped and began pacing back in forth, as the words spilled out of her mouth. "I can't take it anymore it's too much, it's too hard." She turned to him, surprised at the pained expression on his face. "It hurts too much...it just..." She shook her head as if willing away the painful thoughts. "It just hurts too much..." She whispered looking down at the floor.
"What about Sandra?"
Claire's head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed at his statement. "Don't you mention her. Don't you dare even say her name."
He shrugged slightly, slowly making his way over to her. He watched as her body tensed as he approached, he could almost hear her heart beat pick up. Her breathing became uneven. Stepping behind her he took the scissors and placed them at the back of her head, bending down slightly he brought his mouth to her ear and could feel her shudder at his breath.
"I could do it you know. Kill you right here, take you somewhere no one would find you. Bury you deep, in a deserted desolate place. A place even Daddy Noah wouldn't be able to find, you could take a nice long nap, you could just...go to sleep."
She closed her eyes at his words.
He took his free hand and brought it up to her pony tail, grasping the band he pulled it from her hair watching as the golden locks tumbled down her neck, pressing his nose to the scent of her, he inhaled deep. "Is that what you would want me to tell Sandra? That you were tired? That you asked me to kill you? That you decided life was just too hard, and that you just couldn't take it anymore? That you were ready to give up?" He dropped her hair and moved his mouth to her other ear, reveling in the fact that she hadn't pushed him away, but rather that she had gone completely still, listening to every word he was saying. "What do you think she would say to that? What do you think her reaction would be? Or what about Peter? Your precious hero? I wonder how he would feel, to know that his beloved niece had died at the hands of his worst enemy. Not only that I had been the one to kill you...but that you had asked me to, begged me to?" He straightened and looked down at her. "Well..."
She couldn't find her voice. She was afraid if she tried to speak it would come out as nothing more than a squeak. His words had conjured images of her mother standing alone in her room at home, crying at the news of her daughter's death. Her lips trembled at the thought of Peter hearing from Sylar that he had killed her at her wish. When she had gone off on her rampage about wanting death, she hadn't thought, she hadn't considered the people that she still cared about. The people she would be leaving behind.
"It surprises me Claire...I never knew you to be a quitter." His voice whispered in her ear.
She pursed her lips and tried to turn her head to him but found she couldn't. He was holding her in place with his ability. Irritated she let out a frustrated sigh.
"You don't know me." She ground out the words between clenched teeth.
He laughed darkly at her words. "Don't insult me Claire. I know you better than most."
She opened her mouth to shoot back a retort but realized she couldn't find the words. Opting for silence she stared straight ahead at the door in front of her, waiting for him to speak next, and yelped out in surprise rather than pain when she felt the tip of the scissors digging in her skull.
"Is this still what you want Claire?" A dark voice asked, no longer in her ear but from somewhere nearby.
She made an attempt to turn her head to him again, but realized her attempts were useless as she was still being held by his power. Closing her eyes, she wished that she could feel the pain of the scissors digging into her.
"I...I don't know. Yes...no. I...just do it."
She thought she heard a sigh before he spoke next.
"I can't." It was a simple statement but the emotion in his voice was clear. " I can't give you that. For purely selfish reasons I need you in my life. Even if it's only to have you chase me for eternity, trying to kill me. I can't give you up."
At his last words she felt his mental hold on her body release, and heard the scissors fall to the ground. Whirling around she was surprised to see she was alone in her room, he was no where in sight. Confused she ran over to the window and stared up into the sky. Scanning the darkness for a sign of him, her eyes fell on a figure hovering far enough away that she could barely make him out. She thought she saw him nod once in her direction before he dissapeared into the darkness, leaving no trace that he had ever been there in the first place. Shaky she reached up and closed the window, allowing herself a small smile, knowing that if he really wanted to come see her again a locked window was the last thing that would keep him out. As she let out an unsteady breath she glanced over at her bed and noticed the daisy he had brought her, was laying on her pillow. Taking slow diliberate steps over to it she reached out and picked it up, allowing herself to bury her face into the softness of the small petals. She knew she should throw it away, destroy it. Why would she want to keep it? Why would she want to have any memory of his visit, of her suicidal breakdown? Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding she laid down on her bed and closed her eyes.
Later that night when Gretchen quietly let herself into the room she looked surprised to see that Claire was still awake, laying in bed.
"Hey." Her friend said softly putting her books and back pack on her desk.
Claire smiled. "Hi."
As Gretchen crawled into her bed and got under the covers she studied Claire's face. "Anything interesting happen tonight?"
When Claire didn't answer, Gretchen followed her gaze over to her night stand where a single white daisy stood alone in a half full water bottle.
"Um...where did you get that?"
Claire shook her head and turned over in bed, her back to Gretchen. "No where." She said in a soft whisper. She paused for a moment before adding, "Nothing interesting happened tonight...just stayed in. Did some thinking."
Gretchen nodded at Claire's back her eyes still fixed on the daisy. "Um ok..." Sighing she laid down. "Well good night."
She heard a murmered 'night' as Claire snuggled deeper into her bed. Raising her eyebrows to the ceiling Gretchen decided not to ask about the daisy again. The next morning when she noticed a pair of scissors taken apart and thrown in the trash can she decided not to mention anything about that either.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Sylar/Claire...appearance by Gretchen
Warnings: talk of character death, suicide, language
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, just borrowing their characters...don't sue me.
Summary: Claire has a death wish, will Sylar of all people talk her out of it.
A.N.: I haven't really edited this much. Any mistakes are mine. I'm pretty tired and I probably won't go back to proofread until later. Read at your own risk. Also, for some reason I like the idea of Sylar sneaking up on Claire in her room, apparently that's the setting I'm comfortable with for now. We shall see if I branch out later.
"I'll be back late tonight, I've a huge exam tomorrow so I'll be spending most of the night in the library." Gretchen paused, her lanky form fidgeting as she studied Claire's face for a moment. "But um I'm not doing anything tomorrow night if you know...you want to hang out...talk."
Claire smiled at her friend from her bed where she had been lounging and flipping through a text book she'd been pretending to read. She felt a twinge of guilt as she kept the tight smile in place. She knew she had been distant the past few weeks. With everything that had happened lately in the nightmarish hell that was her life, Gretchen had tried to be there for her in every way possible. As a roommate, a friend...something more. It was the something more that made Claire pause. The kiss she and Gretchen had shared awhile ago had been nice, sweet even, but she didn't want anything to get between the friendship they had built, and while the kiss had been a pleasant surprise, she was pretty sure there was no real attraction for Gretchen there. It had just been so long since she had had a normal friend and awhile since she had been kissed, so the experience all together had just been nice. But that was it, and she doubted nice was the kind of reaction Gretchen had been hoping for. She didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings so she hadn't mentioned it, but she couldn't help but notice the hopeful doe eyed looks her roommate had been giving her as of late. She was afraid the subject was going to come up sooner than later, and as selfish as it may sound, with all that was going on with her right now, having that discussion was not on her list of top priorities. But at the same time she figured Gretchen wasn't going to remain silent on the subject forever.
Rising, she swept her hair into a sloppy ponytail and managed another smile for her friend. "That sounds nice, maybe we can order in some pizza and watch a few cheesy movies."
Gretchen returned the smile, her whole face lighting up at the idea of spending the night hanging out with Claire. "That would be great." As she pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and turned to leave she shot Claire a glance. "But um...I would like to talk to you though...you know..about some other things."
Claire didn't have to ask what the 'other things' were, but she forced her smile to remain in place and walked over to her dresser, looking at her own reflection in her mirror she watched as she spoke to Gretchen.
"Sure thing."
Relaxing slightly Gretchen opened the door leading out to the hallway. Pausing, she looked back at Claire. "You gonna be alright...I mean um, I can stay here, study in the room."
Claire sighed as she walked over to Gretchen giving her a slight nudge out the door. "I'm fine. Really, go study, go be smart, I'll be here when you get back." She promised. Pushing her fully out of the room she shut the door gently before her friend could protest. Sighing she rested her head against the smooth wood of the door and closed her tired eyes. The silence of the empty room was relaxing and she could feel some of the weight of the stress she had been carrying around that day slowly start to fade away.
"She's not your type you know."
Her heart froze. She literally could feel it stop in her chest, before it began to beat rapidly threatening to pound its way out of her body. Her vision blurred slightly, and the cold fingers of fear and panic began to claw their way up her throat. Feeling her body begin to tremble she took a moment to compose herself, silently telling herself not to give him the reaction he craved from her. Taking a deep breath she turned to face him, giving him what she hoped looked like a cool and composed look.
"And I suppose you think tall, dark, and psycho is?"
His mouth turned up slightly in a half smile. He was leaning casually against her open window and she silently cursed the university for never getting around to filling the work order she and Gretchen had put in weeks ago for window screens.
"I live and breathe waiting for the day." He said in a silky voice.
Ignoring him, she eyed him warily. "Ever consider knocking?"
"Doubtful you would have let me in." He replied casually.
"Doubtful that would have stopped you." She snapped.
He merely shrugged. It was only when he straightened to his full full height that Clare noticed he had a flower in his hand. He was twirling it idly between his fingers, the white petals bright against his dark attire. His eyes caught her staring at it and he smirked at her.
"I thought a daisy would suit you."
She sneered at him. "I prefer roses."
"No you don't."
It was a simple statement but it was true. She loved daisies. They were so simple, so pretty, so friendly. The white flower looked so out of place in the hands of the killer before her. She knew it was silly, but she wanted to grab it from him, save it from the touch of the man in front of her. As if reading her thoughts he extended his hand offering the gift to her. Uncertain she took a step forward, slowly reaching for it, afraid it was a trick, afraid it might suddenly burst into flame. Gathering confidence she snatched it from him and stepped back resisting the urge to bury her face in it's petals and inhale.
"What are you doing here Sylar?" She questioned focusing her green eyes on his dark ones.
"I came here to see you Claire."
She scowled. "Obviously."
"Obviously." He repeated grinning.
His grin sparked a flame of anger, she could feel it begin it's course through her body, threatening to combust into full blown rage. "Come here to kill me?" She questioned. "Finish off my dysfunctional family? You got my mom and dad, why not add me to your collection?"
He made a grim face, while he appreciated Claire the most when her eyes flashed like hot green flames, and her body struggled to control her anger, he did not appreciate her statement, nor the question. "They weren't your mom and dad Claire. Not really, just because they were forced back into your life doesn't make them your loving parents. Biologically yes they were yours, but they didn't deserve you. Weren't right for you...Nathan most of all." He paused and before he could stop the words he was apologizing. "I am sorry though...I wish I hadn't caused you such pain."
He had said the last words so softly she almost hadn't heard him...almost. And she despised him at that moment for saying them. He didn't deserve to apologize to her, he didn't deserve to speak to her. Not just because he was her parents killer, but because there was a part of him that was right. She knew she had embraced Nathan and Meredith all too quickly. They had both been selfish and flawed, but weren't they all? Turning her gaze to the flower, she bit her lip as she felt the threat of tears at her eyes and a burning sensation in her throat. No. She willed herself, you will not cry. Not in front of him. She wouldn't allow herself.
"You keep telling yourself that Sylar. If that makes you feel better about killing them you go right ahead. Whatever helps your sleep at night."
Ignoring her statement, he addressed her earlier comment. "I didn't come here to kill you Claire, and we both know I couldn't even if I tried."
The rage unleashed in her and rose fast and strong, taking ahold of her and surprising her into action. "That's bullshit and we both know it. You wanna kill me Sylar? Go ahead. We both know all it takes is one good shot to the back of the head." Furious she dropped the flower and stalked past him, over to her desk. Grabbing a pair of scissors she thrust them into his hand, and ignored the surprised look that played across his features. Turning her back to him she slapped the back of her head. "Go on, do it, get it over with."
Disgusted he threw the scissors back on her desk. "I'm not going to kill you Claire."
Feeling the rage all but spill out of her she whirled around facing him. "Why because I'm not begging for my life? Because I'm not pleading for you to just let me go? Because I'm not praying to God that you'll let me live?" Unable to control herself she took a step forward and gave him one strong shove. He barely moved, but she felt a bit of satisfaction at the flash of annoyance that crossed his face.
"Coward." She spat at him as she shoved him again.
"Claire calm down." He said in a soft voiced laced with warning.
"No!" She shouted. "You don't get to tell me to calm down and you don't get to choose when you want to kill me! You don't get to decide when it's convenient for you." Stalking back to the desk she picked up the scissors and threw them at him watching as they hit him smartly in the middle of his chest.
"Do it!" She screamed, not realizing that tears were falling freely down her cheeks. "Do it!"
He looked away from her unable to watch as she crumbled before him. This wasn't why he had come to her. He hadn't meant to hurt her again. He just needed to see her. Needed to talk to her, needed to find out why it was her. Why it was her he desired most in the world why it was herface tattooed on his arm. As he watched her fuming in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling, and eyes heavy with tears, he knew it was simple. He loved her. He wanted her love. She would be his one and only constant when the world continued to change around them. He felt pathetic and weak for wanting and needing something as much as he did her. He was Sylar arguably the most powerful man in the world. He could have anything, take anything, and it would be easy for him, so easy. But he didn't want to take her, he wanted her to take him, embrace him, love him, be with him, stand with him. It was humbling to know what she had reduced him to, how her face appearing on his arm had changed him. He didn't think it would be easy to sway her. He supposed it could take years, centuries even, but he had to start somewhere.
"Pick up the scissor Sylar!" She screamed, ripping him from his thoughts. "Pick them up and just do it! Kill me."
Glancing down at the pair of silver scissors on the floor in front of him he used his telekinesis, to bring them to his hands. He held them, staring down at them a moment he closed his eyes. "You don't have a death wish Claire."
"Shut up. Just shut up!" She sobbed, not wanting him of all people to try and talk her out of her sudden and fucked up suicide attempt. Wiping angrily at her tears she looked him straight in the eye. "You owe me this."
"I'm not going to kill you."
She continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "Everyone in my life has let me down, everyone in my life has lied to me, betrayed me, died on me. I can't...I just can't." She hiccuped and began pacing back in forth, as the words spilled out of her mouth. "I can't take it anymore it's too much, it's too hard." She turned to him, surprised at the pained expression on his face. "It hurts too much...it just..." She shook her head as if willing away the painful thoughts. "It just hurts too much..." She whispered looking down at the floor.
"What about Sandra?"
Claire's head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed at his statement. "Don't you mention her. Don't you dare even say her name."
He shrugged slightly, slowly making his way over to her. He watched as her body tensed as he approached, he could almost hear her heart beat pick up. Her breathing became uneven. Stepping behind her he took the scissors and placed them at the back of her head, bending down slightly he brought his mouth to her ear and could feel her shudder at his breath.
"I could do it you know. Kill you right here, take you somewhere no one would find you. Bury you deep, in a deserted desolate place. A place even Daddy Noah wouldn't be able to find, you could take a nice long nap, you could just...go to sleep."
She closed her eyes at his words.
He took his free hand and brought it up to her pony tail, grasping the band he pulled it from her hair watching as the golden locks tumbled down her neck, pressing his nose to the scent of her, he inhaled deep. "Is that what you would want me to tell Sandra? That you were tired? That you asked me to kill you? That you decided life was just too hard, and that you just couldn't take it anymore? That you were ready to give up?" He dropped her hair and moved his mouth to her other ear, reveling in the fact that she hadn't pushed him away, but rather that she had gone completely still, listening to every word he was saying. "What do you think she would say to that? What do you think her reaction would be? Or what about Peter? Your precious hero? I wonder how he would feel, to know that his beloved niece had died at the hands of his worst enemy. Not only that I had been the one to kill you...but that you had asked me to, begged me to?" He straightened and looked down at her. "Well..."
She couldn't find her voice. She was afraid if she tried to speak it would come out as nothing more than a squeak. His words had conjured images of her mother standing alone in her room at home, crying at the news of her daughter's death. Her lips trembled at the thought of Peter hearing from Sylar that he had killed her at her wish. When she had gone off on her rampage about wanting death, she hadn't thought, she hadn't considered the people that she still cared about. The people she would be leaving behind.
"It surprises me Claire...I never knew you to be a quitter." His voice whispered in her ear.
She pursed her lips and tried to turn her head to him but found she couldn't. He was holding her in place with his ability. Irritated she let out a frustrated sigh.
"You don't know me." She ground out the words between clenched teeth.
He laughed darkly at her words. "Don't insult me Claire. I know you better than most."
She opened her mouth to shoot back a retort but realized she couldn't find the words. Opting for silence she stared straight ahead at the door in front of her, waiting for him to speak next, and yelped out in surprise rather than pain when she felt the tip of the scissors digging in her skull.
"Is this still what you want Claire?" A dark voice asked, no longer in her ear but from somewhere nearby.
She made an attempt to turn her head to him again, but realized her attempts were useless as she was still being held by his power. Closing her eyes, she wished that she could feel the pain of the scissors digging into her.
"I...I don't know. Yes...no. I...just do it."
She thought she heard a sigh before he spoke next.
"I can't." It was a simple statement but the emotion in his voice was clear. " I can't give you that. For purely selfish reasons I need you in my life. Even if it's only to have you chase me for eternity, trying to kill me. I can't give you up."
At his last words she felt his mental hold on her body release, and heard the scissors fall to the ground. Whirling around she was surprised to see she was alone in her room, he was no where in sight. Confused she ran over to the window and stared up into the sky. Scanning the darkness for a sign of him, her eyes fell on a figure hovering far enough away that she could barely make him out. She thought she saw him nod once in her direction before he dissapeared into the darkness, leaving no trace that he had ever been there in the first place. Shaky she reached up and closed the window, allowing herself a small smile, knowing that if he really wanted to come see her again a locked window was the last thing that would keep him out. As she let out an unsteady breath she glanced over at her bed and noticed the daisy he had brought her, was laying on her pillow. Taking slow diliberate steps over to it she reached out and picked it up, allowing herself to bury her face into the softness of the small petals. She knew she should throw it away, destroy it. Why would she want to keep it? Why would she want to have any memory of his visit, of her suicidal breakdown? Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding she laid down on her bed and closed her eyes.
Later that night when Gretchen quietly let herself into the room she looked surprised to see that Claire was still awake, laying in bed.
"Hey." Her friend said softly putting her books and back pack on her desk.
Claire smiled. "Hi."
As Gretchen crawled into her bed and got under the covers she studied Claire's face. "Anything interesting happen tonight?"
When Claire didn't answer, Gretchen followed her gaze over to her night stand where a single white daisy stood alone in a half full water bottle.
"Um...where did you get that?"
Claire shook her head and turned over in bed, her back to Gretchen. "No where." She said in a soft whisper. She paused for a moment before adding, "Nothing interesting happened tonight...just stayed in. Did some thinking."
Gretchen nodded at Claire's back her eyes still fixed on the daisy. "Um ok..." Sighing she laid down. "Well good night."
She heard a murmered 'night' as Claire snuggled deeper into her bed. Raising her eyebrows to the ceiling Gretchen decided not to ask about the daisy again. The next morning when she noticed a pair of scissors taken apart and thrown in the trash can she decided not to mention anything about that either.