018. || voice

[adamantined]

[ a brief shuffle, like the network device is being manhandled. ]

It's been-

How can-

Holy shi-

[ she pauses, takes a deep breath, lets it out slow. ]

Is E - Eden, if you're still here come find me, please. I need, I don't know -

[ there's a long stretch of silence ]

How did I even get back?

Comments

voice; 1/3

[adamantined]

Eden.

voice;

[adamantined]

Where's Sylar? He's not here, right? He can't -

voice;

[adamantined]

I don't know. I haven't been here - how am I.

[ walking walking walking ]

I think I'm near the garden thing.

voice; 1/2

[adamantined]

We didn't go back together, I can tell you that much.

voice || private || unhackable

[adamantined]

Eden, I don't know. Everything happened in this huge blur. One day Dad was dead and then the next he was alive and I can't -

[she is crying now okay] I don't know where I am. I think I'm walking in circles.

1/2

[adamantined]

I can remember Hiro. For some reason, I can remember him wearing my cheerleading uniform, which doesn't exactly make me think this place wasn't a dream.

voice || private || unhackable

[adamantined]

If I see Mohinder, I'm going to break his nose.

[ that at least is very clear, until the end, where it kind of breaks off ]

I can see them. I'm going that way. I'll look for you.

1/2

[adamantined]

I'm glad that it is, weirdly enough.

voice || private || unhackable

[adamantined]

You know what he did?

I don't know -

I think I'm near building three. I'm just going to sit on the steps. Is that okay?

on a freezing chicago street we shook

[adamantined]

Claire has spent the fast five minutes alternately crying, wiping at her face, and being angry enough to kick rocks at cats that skitter by in the disconnecting alleys. Every inch of her is numb, but she doesn't feel the cold, twisting her fingers in the white knit sweater that she still has on. Her jeans are soaked to the knees, and when Eden wraps her in a hug, she deflates like a balloon.

Once she gets her arms around Eden's shoulders, long enough to squeeze her back, Claire breathes hard, like she's been running for days. There's still a lingering telekinetic pressure all over her, where Sylar held her against the wall, but it doesn't hurt. Obviously. All the bruises have healed.

"How did I get back? I was just going to take a shower," she says, almost mundane, somewhat lifeless. "Sylar came."

Saying it doesn't feel any better than keeping it inside, and she rubs at the crusted blood around her forehead.