Fic: "leave it all up in the air" (Heroes)
Title: leave it all up in the air
Author: arenotvalid aka smercy
Rating: PG-13, and its global equivalent
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Charlie, Hiro, assorted
Pairings: Charlie/Hiro
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: vaguely all through season 1
Disclaimer: I don't own "Heroes" and I won't own "Heroes" and I won't make any money from this.
Warnings: none that I can think of
Word Count: 11,750
Status: one-shot, finished
Author's Note: written for heroes_fest prompt: 70 "Charlie impresses customers with her memory", title and all section headings taken from "Ada" by The National.
Summary: 5 ways that Charlie never lived.
-
1. don't talk about the reasons why you don't want to talk about the reasons why you don't want to talk.
-
Charlie was supposed to be getting the lid off of some applesauce, and that was what she was supposed to be doing. Instead, Charlie was in the middle of a deserted dirt road with no cars around, or plants, or people, except for someone looking uncannily like Hiro who was grabbing her arm really tightly. Hiro, who was sitting in his booth, waiting for her to come back after she served the applesauce to Bob at table 9, after she got the damned thing open, which she was supposed to be doing except that she was standing in the middle of a dirt road at night with nothing but streetlights and dirt and some guy that looked a whole lot like Hiro. "Charlie," the guy who looked and sounded like Hiro said, "Charlie!" His grip was really tight on her arm.
"If I close my eyes," she found herself babbling, "If I close them really tightly and ignore this intense nausea and think really hard about applesauce, will I be back in the diner when I open them?" She swallowed, her throat feeling sticky and tight. "Because this would probably be best if it were some kind of waking dream where I'm just zoning out and then imagining really vividly that I'm in the back lot of the diner, which happens to be bizarrely deserted with the cute boy from the diner?" There was a firefly next to her shoulder that was not moving at all, even though Charlie was pretty sure that it was physically impossible. "Please don't say that we're going to be making out now because I don't think that my nerves can handle it. Also, you're a cute boy that looks like the cute boy from the diner except that soul patch is really freaking me out and I don't know that I could actually kiss you with that on your chin, provided that this is a really involved daydream..."
"Charlie," the guy who looked like Hiro with weird facial hair interrupted, "It is Hiro. I don't have time to explain, but I'm from the future. I promise this is not a daydream." Hiro's English was quite improved, if he was telling the truth. "I've come here to save you," he smiled, just exactly like the smile that the other Hiro smiled and he was really giving her a headache. "There's a man in the diner, the suspicious looking one that's seated by the door." She knew the one, just coffee, wouldn't leave for hours, dark glasses and wouldn't show his face. "Well, in about 30 seconds after when I got you, he was going to kill you."
Well, her brain completely broke right then, and she probably looked like a guppy.
"Charlie," Hiro from the future gently shook her arm. "We don't have much time. I'm sorry we don't, but when I say you have to get into your car and drive in the opposite direction from your house as far as you can before you stop, but make sure that you don't break any traffic laws. I'll meet up with you later, give you more money. Don't check into any fancy hotel and don't use your name when you do it." He gasped a little, holding her hand and he had a scar near his thumb that she hadn't noticed before. "I've stopped time," he smiled, "I can't do it for much longer, but I can freeze time and teleport and also travel through time, and I'm from the future where you are murdered, but I can't let that happen to you."
"Okay," she gulped, grabbing his hand tighter. "So I need to get in my car now because I was about to get murdered and you just saved my life because you're Hiro but from the future and I need to drive?" He nodded enthusiastically. "So I guess I should leave my apron out here."
-
Charlie was at a gas station when she probably saw the man who was supposed to have murdered her pull up in some beat up old dodge. (She could recognize his sunglasses and the watch.)
She was pretty sure that it was time to start running or swearing or crying or waking up from the crazy dream to find herself passed out on the floor of the diner covered in applesauce. Or, seeing as none of those options were probably beneficial, Charlie decided to continue filling up her car and to try much harder to look inconspicuous.
Well, that worked until Evil-Sunglasses-Guy actually noticed her. The curse of a redhead, probably, and she noticed this because there were suddenly sharp objects being flung at her head and nobody throwing them and there was a screwdriver embedded the top of her car.
He was stomping, too, very slowly towards her like it was some kind of lame slasher movie or something and Charlie knew she would have been amused or at least a little bit smug if it weren't for the part where he was actually about to kill her and had some kind of telekinesis and she couldn't get her car door opened. She'd spent three months worth of tips on the down payment, but Charlie found herself uncaring as she grabbed the gas nozzle and smacked it right through the back door window.
After that, it was easy to manually unlock the door and jump in the car while he was still stomping around from a good 35 feet away.
Honestly, Evil-Sunglasses-Guy was lucky that she was ethically against any kind of murder, because he would've found himself run the hell over.
-
She'd thought that a 5 minute head start and a much better idea of the roads would buy her more time and avoid a movie-style dramatic car chase across the highway. Except that Charlie was pretty sure that Evil-Sunglasses-Guy had just switched cars and didn't really care about speed limits, whereas she couldn't exactly break it in case the police noticed and she'd get pulled over and then the guy that was set out to murder her would have a sitting duck to shove a screwdriver though her head or something.
Charlie had to switch cars too.
She pulled into a the nearest closed-looking car dealership with a heavy feeling in her stomach and a sick sense of purpose. Emphasis on the sick part, 'cause she hadn't eaten since lunch with Hiro-from-the-present (now did he count as Hiro-from-the-past?) and Charlie found herself considering breaking into a vending machine to get something to eat, because once you'd begun with the law-breaking behavior it was so easy to just continue with it and she was really hungry.
Except she wasn't a criminal and she was doing this to save her life, which was actually a really good thing to do and she didn't actually need to steal a delicious-looking Twinkie from the vending machine because she wasn't exactly starving yet and she was already going to steal a car from the dealership and it was probably best not to compound the problem.
Right. And she wouldn't take an especially good car either, just because.
-
Well, there had been no sign of the Evil-Sunglasses-Guy, (who, if he were smart, should have taken off those damn glasses a long time ago) for a good 276 minutes and probably 17 seconds, and Charlie's eyes hurt and she really needed to get something to eat and sleep and all sorts of necessary biological functions.
She pulled into a dirty-looking motel with some kind of upturned coffee cup on the sign and hid her car in between two beat looking old pickups. Charlie registered under the name Savannah Parker, figuring that it was probably trashy enough to avoid suspicion. She had her hair up, and under a trashy baseball cap, just in case, and she really wished she'd packed an extra change of clothes and especially a toothbrush, but it wasn't like she knew that she was supposed to get murdered and then conveniently rescued.
The room was tiny and there were cobwebs all over the tops of all of the lamps that she didn't want to turn on so the whole thing looked gray and ominous. She closed the holey, flower patterned drapes, just in case. Her feet took her to the bathroom, where she splashed water on her face and tried very hard not to worry her pulse rate up any higher. Charlie found herself whispering, "It'll be okay, it'll be okay," and she wasn't exactly sure how to stop it.
Her bed wasn't the most comfortable bed ever, but better than a car seat or the floor. Charlie set the alarm for 5 hours, just in case, and pulled the comforter off the bed. It was probably covered in hooker juice, and smelled disgusting. Hiro-from-the-future had said she needed a trashy motel, so she'd gotten her 40 bucks worth. The room was too hot, but she didn't want to bother messing with the air-conditioner.
She crawled under the covers with all her clothes and shoes on. She did not cry.
-
Going down some deserted back road with the radio blaring, Charlie almost missed Hiro-from-the-future standing in the middle of the road with a huge dufflebag. She was suddenly, irrationally grateful that she hadn't chosen that moment to be checking her rearview again.
He was smiling when she pulled off to the side of the road to meet him. "Here," he grinned, handing her the bag, "I brought you some things. Let's put this in the car." Charlie nodded, feeling ridiculously weak. "Versa," he giggled, "Excellent choice!"
Hiro-from-the-future sat with her in the big back seat and unzipped the dufflebag to reveal another dufflebag and 3 backpacks. Inside the dufflebag was a purse, which he handed to her first. "Bathroom stuff," he said, "Toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, hair elastics, 3 different kinds of soap, shampoo, conditioner, hand lotion, deodorant, and 5 different disposable cell phones with my number programmed into it in case of emergency, make sure to stomp on it until it's broken and sparking before you throw it out once it's used."
The first backpack was full of 20 dollar bills, just stuffed full of them, probably more money than she had held at one time. The next one was the same, and the third one had all sorts of visas and international money and passports and 5 wallets full of credit cards. "I don't know how long you'll need to run," Hiro-from-the-future said. "I'm going to take care of you for as long as you need me." And he twisted his hands adorably. "Right now, Sylar doesn't seem to be following you closely enough to be dangerous. I would have been here sooner, but I did not remember how stubborn my past self was..."
"I'd kiss you right now," Charlie giggled, "If my mouth wasn't totally disgusting."
"For now, I will accept the spirit of that," Hiro replied, blushing.
"Next time," Charlie giggled. "You'd better watch out, because my teeth will be brushed and I will be ready."
Oh, he had the most adorable blush.
-
Even though it had been a week since Charlie had ran away from home, ("Ran away from home for my life," she liked to call it.) she could not get rid of the nagging and persistent feeling that she was being followed, even though the cars that she thought might tailing her had two people in them and future-Hiro had said that Sylar never traveled with a partner. Also, the silhouettes were all wrong, but she couldn't get rid of it. Things kept matching up too precisely.
And Hiro said that her ability was her memory, so Charlie knew she had to use it. She couldn't exactly figure how to use it to its best ability while she was on the run, except to possibly analyze weird patterns, but she was sure that she could use her big memory to figure it out eventually. Language tapes hadn't helped, because she had the pronunciation right after the first try and the repetition was terribly boring. Plus, it distracted her from analyzing the patterns of cars in her rearview mirror.
Or she was being extra paranoid because of the newspaper article. But when Charlie saw that a serial killer matching Sylar's description had murdered some cheerleader 50 miles away from her and the police couldn't find him at all, she had a right to be worried. And it wasn't paranoia if there were actually people out to get you.
And her teeth were furry and gross, so she pulled into the nearest motel. On her impromptu road trip through Texas, 'cause Hiro said to stay in-state, Charlie had discovered that 1 out of every 3 non-chain motels had a cowboy hat somewhere on the sign. The latest one was actually pretty decent quality for 60 bucks.
Charlie was tired of being paranoid, though, and for waiting for Hiro and barely getting any sleep and working her mind up to dangerous levels. She was reading "Catch-22," so that probably didn't help. But it wasn't just like she could stop. Her brain was working to the point of overworking and she needed a distraction and a lot of the excitement of the trip had worn off so she was homesick and really wanted to call her family and the diner to at least tell them she hadn't died alone somewhere.
But she wasn't dead, and she really didn't want to be. The quilt on the bed had 84 squares and 7 of them were frayed on the edges. The book said: "Dear Mrs., Mr., Miss, or Mr. And Mrs. Daneeka: Words cannot express the deep personal grief I experienced when your husband, son, father, or brother was killed, wounded, or reported missing in action." (That did not help either.)
-
There was what was most likely an invisible man in Charlie's hotel room and his rustling was probably what woke her up.
The remote had moved a half-inch to the right and her magazines weren't stacked properly and the pencil was twisted 3/4ths of an inch in the wrong direction. And the chain on the secondary lock on the door had shifted position, and Charlie was almost scared to look at her window because that was probably where the invisible man had gotten in. Hiro had said that Sylar didn't have the power of invisibility, but Hiro didn't know where Sylar was and she wasn't going to take chances.
There was a knife and a handgun under her pillow and Charlie had known how to shoot since she was 14, even though bullets probably wouldn't work with the telekinetically powered man, so she'd have to surprise him. Or, if she couldn't surprise him, she'd be damned if Sylar was going to go sorting through her brain for something that would help him continue a mad killing spree.
She probably couldn't surprise him. Holding herself hostage was probably the best solution. Charlie very quickly sat up in bed, making sure to get her legs untangled from under the covers, thankful that she had worn plain pajamas, and grabbed the gun. Before there was another noise, Charlie had the safety off and the gun cocked to underneath her chin. "Stop what you're doing, Asshole," she declared.
There wasn't another noise, but the bathroom door moved three inches very slowly. She wasn't wrong. "Just because you're invisible doesn't mean I don't notice you," she continued. Charlie heard what sounded like a muffled curse. "I can hear you, Asshole. The second I feel something touch my head, I'm pulling this trigger."
"I'm not Sylar," the invisible voice said. "I promise." The invisible voice had a strong English accent. Hiro hadn't mentioned anything about Sylar having an accent.
"You're not visible," Charlie said, "You can't prove anything. And I don't take promises from strange, invisible men."
So in the corner next to the television and a good 4 feet away from the bathroom door, a very tall man materialized, or visualized or something. "I'm not Sylar," he repeated.
He certainly didn't look like Sylar. "But I have no way of knowing whether or not Sylar picked up shape-shifting along with invisibility after he killed that cheerleader in Odessa," she countered. "It's been a few days, I hear he gets around."
"I promise I'm not Sylar," the formerly-invisible man said, slowly moving closer. "My name is Claude."
"You're not doing anything to convince me that you're not Sylar," she said, "And stop walking!"
He froze. "Sylar wears a watch at all times," he sighed, "He always wears it on his right wrist and he never takes it off, even to shower or kill. The watch is where he gets the name Sylar." Hiro had told her about the watch. Claude pulled up his sleeves, no watch. "I don't have a watch. And I can't shapeshift, and I don't have telekinesis; I'm just invisible." He pulled his pockets inside-out and slowly stepped out of his shoes.
"Okay," Charlie smiled. She very quickly moved the gun from her chin to point square at his chest.
"Whoa," Claude groaned, "What are you doing?"
"You're an invisible man sneaking around in my motel room, and I'm a girl that's on the run from a crazed serial killer. What the hell are you doing?" There was an odd rustling sound by her shoulder, but she ignored it. "You turn invisible again and I'll shoot you before you can move."
Claude smiled, a little excitedly. "You're a firecracker, you are." Charlie was beyond tired of all of the "fiery redhead" comments her hair brought.
Then, she had a pain in her shoulder near the left shoulder blade and it felt like something was sticking out of it and her vision was getting fuzzy. She dropped the gun just in case she accidentally pulled the trigger, even though she was pissed as all get out at the crazy invisible man that had just shot her with something. Charlie was tired, too, and after all of the effort and hiding and Hiro, she really didn't want to die.
Her words were all slurring together and she could barely understand them as she was speaking, but she couldn't stop. "Please don't wanna die, please don't wanna die, please don't wanna die." And her vision was going black and her heart was beating too slowly and Charlie was so tired and she just didn't want to die.
-
When Charlie woke up, she was in a blue room. Everything was blue, and beeping and cold.
Claude the formerly invisible man was standing next to her, patting her hand. "Not gonna die, Sweetheart," he drawled. "I promise."
There were a two other men in the room and something was strapped to her head and she was strapped in a bed and actually really scared. Claude tried to shush her, gently stroking the top of her hand, but her head hurt so badly and the man wearing glasses looked so menacing...
"Just going to have some tests," Claude said, "Nothing too terrible." The other guy, who was very tall and very dark and bald and pretty was staring at her. He had his mouth pressed together like he was worried.
"I don't want tests," she babbled, "I have this inoperable blood clot in my brain, and it's inoperable because it's right next to this minor aneurysm and you have stuff strapped to my head and it might probably kill me."
The man with the intimidating glasses looked down on her. "We'll be careful," he said. His voice was so calm that it moved from comforting to alarming and everything was just so blue.
Claude reached out and grabbed her other hand, squeezing like he was leaving or something. "Don't worry, Charlie, soon you'll forget all of this."
The blue was overpowering and her head hurt and she was crying. "No, I won't," Her face was sticky from the tears and she was almost choking herself with panic. "I won't forget, I can't. Please just stop!"
"Of course you'll forget," Claude soothed, "Everybody does."
But she wouldn't.
-
2. all alone, all together, all together in the dark.
-
Charlie Andrews was on the run, like in Thelma and Louise, except that there were three of them and they weren't exactly against the whole world.
Just the Company. Just where it was important.
And while Charlie was driving the car, she wouldn't drive over the edge of anything. (And there weren't any canyons nearby.)
-
Mr. Linderman came to the side of her bed and he said, "Hello, my name is Mr. Linderman. I am here because I'm going to save your life."
He pulled all of the tubes from her arms, all 18 of them, and placed one cool hand on her forehead. One of his thumbs stroked her eyebrow, and his other hand was resting on the top of her head over where the damage was.
She was scared, but she didn't have the energy to run away or scream or anything. "Shhh, little Charlie," Mr. Linderman said. His hair was white and his eyebrows were white, but his beard was sprinkled with gray. He didn't have kind eyes, but they weren't mean either.
But there was warmth coming from his fingers into her head and spiraling down to her toes, warming her all up. Charlie's head spun like it did whenever she got a headache, except like it was in reverse.
"Everything is going to be just fine, now, little Charlie," Mr. Linderman said, sinking into the chair. "We're going to have a lovely partnership, I can tell."
-
Elle had never been to a McDonalds. This was a travesty.
Elle loved Slushos and Cheetos and Doritos and any kind of junk food that ended in an "os".
Elle was on a rampage of junk food, plunking down with a bowl full of party mix on the hotel bed every night, and Charlie had to beg to get her to eat an apple.
Elle cut her hair short, too short, and talked about dyeing it purple. She painted her nails black.
All 3 of them took field trips to the McDonald's Play Place, diving into the ball pit and pigging out on fries.
Elle fell asleep every night all curled up around Charlie, and slept for a solid 8 hours every time.
And she didn't have any problems controlling her ability.
-
Charlie had been in the Texas branch of the Company for 19 days, 8 hours, and 31 minutes, about, before she met anybody her age.
She'd been stuck in meetings, memorizing the meetings all day long for weeks. Then, Bob Bishop (alchemy) came up to her, and asked if she'd like to meet his daughter, Elle (electricity). Of course, Charlie agreed.
Charlie had heard that Elle was difficult, but nobody ever said that she was pretty. Elle had a pretty room, all full of dolls and her walls were pink and her pillows were ruffle-y and she probably had two whole closets full of sparkly dresses. And Elle had pretty hair and a face like a doll.
They watched 2 movies and played Barbies for a little while before Charlie wanted the popcorn bowl and Elle had it for like 20 minutes and wouldn't share at all, but when Charlie tried to get her to share, Elle shocked her.
And it hurt, and it jolted through her entire body, sizzling and burning and flickering pain all through everywhere. Charlie didn't realize it, but she was crying and curled up in the corner. "Why did you do that," she sobbed, "It felt like you were killing me!"
"You tried to take my popcorn," Elle pouted.
Charlie sniffled, "Didn't you want to be my friend? I thought you liked me; I didn't think you wanted to kill me..."
"I didn't want to kill you," Elle cried, "You should've just left my popcorn alone!"
Charlie reached over and smacked Elle across the face. "You can't be my friend if you're gonna try to kill me! Even if I steal your popcorn, which I didn't do because it was my turn and you hogged it, and even if I steal one of your dolls. You can't be my friend if you're gonna shock me on purpose ever!"
Charlie tried to smooth the static out of her hair, really upset. Elle was crying. "You hate me now," she whimpered. "Everybody hates me."
"I don't hate you, Elle," Charlie sighed, "But you just can't shock me on purpose again, okay?"
"Okay," Elle said, reaching over for a hug.
Charlie didn't look at Bob Bishop at all, when he came in 2 minutes and 30 seconds later and said it was time to go.
-
The Haitian found them in a Burger King in DC, while they were in the middle of their grand tour of fast food icons.
Hana intercepted the text message from where the Haitian was sitting in the parking lot, waiting to get in. Bennet wasn't with him, so they probably were split up, and that meant that there wouldn't be much time for reinforcements.
When Charlie thought of seeing the Haitian again, she felt a little homesick pang in her stomach, but she ignored it. "We're gonna bust out of this joint," Elle giggled, biting her straw dramatically. Hana leaned over and kissed the top of Elle's head.
"Damn right we are, Baby," Hana smirked. "Right out through the back door, gonna hotwire a car, leave all of our possessions behind, get to a city."
Charlie smiled, grabbed Elle's hand tightly. "Let's do it now."
The Haitian wouldn't find them again.
-
"This is our newest member," Thompson (un-evolved) said, pulling a boy in by the shoulders. "He doesn't have a name that we know of, and he won't speak." He clapped the boy on the back, probably uncomfortably hard, "He can pull memories from people's heads like grub worms!"
"Does he speak French?" Charlie scuffed her sneakers on the floor. "I finished my French tapes 4 days ago, and I'd be willing to try that..."
"We've tried," Thompson said. "Don't bother." He pushed the boy towards her, and the boy wouldn't look her in the face. "We're going to try pairing you up, see if your abilities are useful together. Get to know each other now, all that. No kissing, though." He leered, because Thompson had a bad habit of leering.
Charlie waited until Thompson was gone. "Hello," she whispered in French, "I'm Charlie. You don't have to respond to me if you don't want to." The boy smiled. "I want to give you a nickname," she whispered, "Because everybody deserves a name."
She grabbed his hand, smiling, "I think you look like a Ted. Is Ted okay?" He nodded.
"Good," she smiled. "I won't forget that. I can't forget anything."
-
"Road trip," Elle roared. "We've got the red vines, we've got the cupcakes; it's crazy delicious time!"
Hana giggled from the wheel. "Charlie is looking especially crazy delicious today!"
Charlie smacked Hana's arm, gently. "This crazy delicious-looking girl says that we need to head up into Philly, continue our grand pan-country epic fast food tour with some Dunkin' Donuts and see if we can find a White Castle."
"White Castle, wooooo," Elle yelled. "Road trip with foxy ladies!"
"You need to cut her off from the energy drinks," Hana whispered.
Charlie nodded. "I know. But she hides them somewhere and I don't know where it is and I can't find it and I'm beginning to think it's intravenous." Hana giggled.
Elle shrieked, "Time for a pit stop! We're out of pixy stix!"
-
Charlie had a cyanide pill implanted underneath her collarbone, two and a half inches under the marks for her radioactive isotope. She'd had it since she was 11, and it was rigged to burst as soon as she left the Company grounds, so she didn't ever leave. Hana thought she was crazy, but Hana thought that everything was crazy.
When Bennet (un-evolved) found out, he looked like he was going to throw up. He wouldn't look at her for nearly 3 months. Elle couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much.
Elle liked running her finger over the bump and having Charlie explain why it was there. "You know the secrets to their meetings, Charlie," she giggled, "You're the most important part of their recon! You're too valuable to leave! You're a special agent!"
"Okay," Charlie said, smiling. "So long as you'll be my partner."
"Okay," Elle replied, "So long as that doesn't make me a trained monkey. That'd be pretty lame."
Charlie didn't tell Elle about the meetings where they talked about pushing her to the limits of her abilities. Charlie wished she could forget them. Ted couldn't get memories out of her brain, though, so she couldn't.
That didn't actually matter, though, 'cause special agents knew how to keep secrets.
-
Claude found them in Boston, while they were running north to Canada. Elle didn't like the cold, so she was buried under 5 layers of blankets and snuggled up tightly.
Charlie wasn't an idiot. She could tell when the layout of the room had been adjusted.
She woke Elle gently, because it was unfair to surprise her. Elle had never been able to wake up well, but she took this one okay. "Elle," she murmured, "The Company's here. When I count to 3, I need you to wake Hana up as gently as you can, and once you've done that, grab her and run out the door. Hana knows the rest." Elle nodded.
Elle was done before the "3".
In 43 seconds, Elle and Hana were completely gone, and Charlie was alone in the hotel room with a gun and an invisible man. "Hi, Claude," she drawled.
Claude melted into visibility. "You're in a heap of trouble, the lot of you are."
"It was worth it," Charlie smiled, "Better than worth it."
Hana and Elle, if they were running fast like they were supposed to, would've gotten to the parking lot and were already well on their way to hotwiring another car, and with another 30 seconds, they'd be ready to go. They would wait another 2 minutes for her before going off alone, and Charlie could stall for that long.
"We went to Wendy's," she smiled, "I haven't been to one of those since I was 5 years old. And Elle hadn't ever. She's been so happy, Claude."
"She's dangerous," Claude stated.
"She didn't have one flare-up for the entire trip," Charlie said. "Not one." Hana would take good care of Elle, she had plenty of practice from the earlier part of the trip.
And 21 days of freedom was more than enough for Charlie.
Claude was frowning, trying to sneak closer to the gun. "I've filled a full life, Claude," she smiled, "I think I'm ready to die now."
His face fell, dramatically, hard. "You don't need to do that, Charlie," he pleaded, "We all love you."
"I know," she smiled. "But you can activate that cyanide pill any time now."
-
Charlie couldn't forget. Her brain kept whirring and whirring and she was just a pawn in the Company and she knew too much and she couldn't ever forget.
And in the footage, Elle (electricity) was screaming like Elle was always screaming and they just wouldn't stop hurting her.
Charlie knew 15 languages, but she couldn't figure out how to make it stop.
They said that Elle was a psychopath, except that Elle never shocked anybody she loved on purpose, and everybody else tried to hurt her. Well, Ted didn't try to hurt her, but Ted didn't have a choice.
Charlie had a brain that wouldn't ever shut off, and an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the Company, and a cyanide pill implanted near her radioactive tracking isotope.
Hana (data transception) wanted to get out, and Hana could get into the computers and mess with their insides, maybe get them out.
Elle could manipulate electricity, almost perfectly, and bend it to her will, just in case.
They were going to get out. Charlie was going to breathe some fresh air, and Elle was going to live a full month without any tests.
She had a plan brewing in her head, just waiting to get out. And Charlie could almost taste the real air already.
"Hold on, Elle-Belle," she'd say, while Elle was crying in her bed after treatment. "Hold on, Charlie," she'd think to her herself.
-
3. I can hear the sound of your laugh through the wall.
-
"Oh," Charlie muttered, fussing around her messy little apartment, "Tom, why did I marry your father?"
Her fussy little baby didn't say anything, as she expected, but didn't fuss more, like she had.
"Was it because he was adorable, like you? With big fat cheeks like yours?"
Tomohiro leaned into her arms and slobbered sloppy baby kisses all over the side of her face. "Well, he's a better kisser than you are."
Tom, probably in response, grabbed a full fistful of hair and tugged.
Charlie could count the seconds until her husband would come home, but that wouldn't help.
-
During Ando's weekly check-in, (Tom's health is fine, Hiro's health is fine, Tom is busy teething, Hiro is busy saving innocent civilians from peril) Ando mentioned that Hiro's father was in the city, looking for him, and probably anyone connected with him.
"I think the man has some kind of tracking device implanted in Hiro," Ando said, laughing in the way that meant he was only using it to keep from crying in frustration, "An actual, literal tracking device. And our sources at the Bureau say that he's probably found out about the marriage, so it will just be a matter of time before he figures out about Tom, too."
Charlie wanted to cry, a little. "We've just gotten settled in the city, Ando," She said, "We're trying so hard to be close to Hiro, and I haven't seen him in months! Don't pull us farther apart, please!"
Her son was 6 months old, and after the first 2 weeks of his life, he'd seen his father 8 times. Charlie hadn't talked with her husband in 15 days and 9 hours. "Charlie," Ando contended, "I'm not trying to pull you apart, and you know that. Hiro would be with you if he could, but we need him to help with the relocating. He's working 13 hour days, and he needs all the sleep he can get."
"I know," Charlie sighed, "I know that so well. But I spent the whole day with an angry, teething baby, and I haven't slept well in weeks and my finger is raw from where he gnawed on it, and I'm covered in drool, I need a shower so badly, and I miss my husband. Don't lecture me about duty when I'm doing this entirely by myself."
"I'm sorry," Ando said, but Charlie wasn't listening.
"Tom's health is fine, my health is continuing, our safety situation, as of now, remains unchanged. Update over."
She didn't listen to hear his goodbye, just hung up the phone.
-
Charlie left Tom and his big bag of toys with their trustworthy neighbor from the apartment two floors down. Her cellphone was in her pocket, turned on. Tom was transfixed by the cat wallpaper as she left.
She walked quickly to the park, pausing to get a pretzel that was a little too heavy on the salt. Charlie adjusted her hair from under the scarf, buttoned up her coat and ambled slowly towards the center of the park. She had noticed a Japanese man prominently on a bench the day before, and he was in the same spot when she looked again.
"Excuse me, Sir," She asked, "I was wondering if that spot was taken?"
He turned his head and nothing else to look at her, arching one eyebrow. "Not at all," he said, but didn't move to give her any room.
"Thank you," she chirped. Charlie smiled her biggest smile, the one that could get her regulars to tip her an extra few bucks for no other reason. "Nice weather we're having now," she started.
He only murmured an assent with his head buried in a newspaper, business section. Charlie knew that the trick was to keep sunny, to pretend like she didn't notice the part where he was trying to ignore her. "The breeze is just enough so that it cools everything down without making it chilly." She looked down at her hands, which were fiddling with the red pattern on her skirt; looked back up at him, smiling.
"Yes," he said, sternly but not unkindly. "I have always enjoyed these sorts of breezes."
Charlie smiled again, but didn't grin. "You don't really sound like you're from around here, so do you get the nice winds wherever you're from?"
"Japan," he said, "And yes, we do get pleasant winds."
"Japan," she cooed. "I was just in Japan! I got to take a year abroad with my college and they sent me over to Osaka and I was there for a couple of months. I loved it there; where are you from?" Charlie brushed her hair away from her face and turned to see him better.
She could see the little lines on his face begin to relax a bit, subtly. "Tokyo," he said. "Do you speak much Japanese?"
Charlie switched to Japanese, answering, "Yes," confidently.
He smiled a little, asked her, "What was your favorite meal?" He talked quickly, unforgivingly.
"Sushi," she smiled, "But I can't find anywhere decent to get it now that I'm back."
"The unfortunate part of living in New York City," he said. "I have yet to find anywhere to meet my standards either."
She untangled her hands from her skirt and reached over to shake his hand. "I'm Sophia," she greeted in English, "Sophia O'Conner."
"Kaito Nakamura," he said. "Pleasure to meet you."
Charlie made a great show of looking at her watch. "It's been wonderful meeting you too," she said. "But I only have five minutes before I need to head over to the Subway. I'm sorry that I'll have to cut this short, it's so unusual that I meet anyone that's even been to Japan, much less someone so polite. Will you be around here later?"
His eyes smiled, "I am not sure how long I will be here, but this trip will probably last a few days."
She pulled herself up, keeping eye contact with the man who was in all likelihood her father-in-law. "Well, I hope I'll see you again. Maybe we could talk some more about Japan? In Japanese so that my speaking doesn't get rusty?"
Kaito's face had turned once more into an impassive mask. "If I see you again, Sophia, I will try to make the time." He nodded in her direction, "You should be on your way now, it is best to be early and not miss your train."
-
Ando said, politely, "I'm sorry, Hiro still isn't here. If I had known that you would call, I would have told him of the time but-"
"I actually need to talk with you, Ando," She murmured. "I don't think that Hiro would give me a straight answer and I need one." Tom was drooling all over her finger and his favorite Oscar the Grouch bib.
Ando audibly gulped. "How can I help you, Charlie?"
Tom made happy baby gurgles as she switched him to another knee, hair all askew. "Is Hiro's father actively looking for me? It's just that lately there have been these people around looking for a redhead with an Asian baby and that sounds awfully suspicious."
"Kaito," Ando muttered. "That must by why he's left Japan. We didn't know that he knew about Tom, but now that he knows... I'll have to talk to Hiro about this."
Tom's head had sunk into her shoulder and stayed long enough to make a big sticky mark all over her shirt. "Okay," Charlie found herself saying, "What do I do?"
Ando sighed. "Same as before, I think. Just watch out for anyone searching for someone like you, middle-aged Japanese men, large groups of people entering your building. I'll call you if we decide to do anything else. And be careful."
"I'm always careful," Charlie chirped. "Send my love to Hiro."
She would've waited for Ando to say goodbye, but Tom was trying to eat the telephone cord and she really needed to hang up.
-
On their honeymoon, Charlie discovered that she couldn't turn her memory off. "Hiro," she said, "I can remember all of my dreams, every last one."
He'd kissed her, and shushed her, and stroked her hair until she'd calmed down.
"I can remember everything," She cried, "Every last thing. The progression of time. I count the seconds in my head, I can't stop, I can't myself to stop knowing when a second passes..."
Hiro kissed her again, "Everything will be okay, my love," he'd said.
And she'd felt it. Charlie had felt like everything was going to be all right, and that the future would be safe and bright and wonderful, but she couldn't get that feeling to stay when Hiro wasn't around. Charlie needed it, too, especially when her husband was gone and she couldn't stop counting the seconds.
She wanted to stop counting the seconds; she just couldn't.
-
Back when Charlie was in Texas, before she met her husband, she used to regularly impress the customers with her memory. Bob from table 5 would always tip her extra if she'd help him finish his crossword, and she'd won 14 different bets dealing with the states (name all 50, alphabetical order, capitals, backwards alphabetical order, etc.)
She didn't do that any more. It was too dangerous.
Dangerous like secretly meeting with Kaito Nakamura in secret under false pretenses. Charlie was most likely a huge idiot.
A huge idiot with a huge memory that was tired of looking at the same four walls over and over and a baby that wouldn't stop crying, despite being the cutest baby to ever grace the planet, and a huge idiot that was lonely and desperate for human contact.
As soon as she got to move in with Hiro, she'd stop. The nightmares would probably stop then, too.
-
When Charlie got the call from Ando, the real call, 4 weeks later, Tom was right in the middle of Sesame Street and Oscar the Grouch was on.
Tom loved Oscar the Grouch the best. Tom probably wanted to have his name changed to grumpypants.
Tom was going to go see his father in less than 6 hours, and Charlie had to pack.
Oscar the Grouch took that as his cue to start singing "The Grouch Song," and quite appropriately.
-
Tom was in his carrier and their bags were packed and waiting by the door when Charlie had a brilliant idea.
Well, it probably wasn't too brilliant, but her son only had one grandparent.
He was sitting in his customary spot when she walked over, Tom bundled in her arms. Kaito's eyes opened wider, but his face didn't visibly betray anything. "Hello, Kaito," she said.
"Is that your son?" Charlie nodded.
"His name is Tomohiro," she said. Tom snuggled his head into the crook of her neck, smiling adorably.
"He is handsome," Kaito stated.
She could hear the emotion in his voice, hiding between the surface. Charlie sat next to her estranged father-in-law on a park bench in the middle of Central Park with her baby playing in between them, and she did so for a while, trying to savor the moment.
Tom decided to play the game where he grabbed for the nearest nose and giggled and refused to give it up, and Kaito was completely charmed.
But Ando's taxi was waiting on the outside of the park, where they had agreed to meet, she could see it. Her bags were in the taxi and Hiro was waiting.
So Charlie let Tom give his grandfather a sloppy kiss, then asked Kaito to go and grab her a pretzel, and while he obliged, she picked up her baby and ran off into the sunset. She didn't look behind her to see what happened when he noticed.
As soon as Charlie got into the taxi, she smiled at Ando, as warmly as she could.
-
When Charlie entered the main room of the operations building, she wasn't sure of what to expect.
She certainly didn't think that it would be a plain concrete-walled place with no decorations or anything, and she especially didn't think that one of her favorite regulars from the diner would be sitting at the opposite side of the table, smirking at her. "Charlie?"
"Yep," she said, handing Tom over to Ando. "Mr. B?"
"What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" He shuffled through some papers, adjusted his glasses. "I don't have you on my list..."
"I got married," she said, smiling, "My name changed."
He chuckled, "Congratulations." Mr. Bennet flipped through more papers. "You wouldn't happen to be Hiro Nakamura's Charlie, would you?"
"That's me."
"And double congratulations for the baby," he laughed. "And my list says that you have an enhanced memory, so day after tomorrow I'll have you fill out a rudimentary survey, okay?"
Ando nodded in her direction, leaned over and kissed the top of Tom's little head. "Okay, Mr. B," she grinned. "I'll see you later, sometime after I see my husband again. Goodbye!"
-
Hiro grabbed her, hard, pulling her into an overenthusiastic kiss. "Oh, Charlie," he said, "Oh, my wife."
For a few, glorious seconds, Charlie was pulled completely into his kiss. "Oh, Charlie, I've missed you," He exclaimed, "My Charlie."
"Do you want some waffles?" Hiro was babbling, unable to stop kissing her lips and cheeks and neck. "I can make you some waffles, good ones, we have frozen ones too. Are you hungry?"
"I missed you too, Hiro," Charlie smiled. She smiled so widely that her face hurt.
Ando stepped up behind them, holding Tom securely. Hiro turned to face them, face suddenly full of solemnity. "My son," he said, "My precious son, Tomohiro."
Tom grabbed for Hiro, hands grasping at hair and snuggling at his chest, cooing happily. "Charlie," Hiro gasped, "He remembers me!"
And oh, there was nothing that could make the moment more perfect.
-
Ando watched Tom for a few hours while Hiro and Charlie were given time to become reacquainted.
Later, they lay naked in bed and talked, for hours.
(Her husband kissed until her lips were aching, and again until she was crying, and his tenderness did not waver.)
"We aren't going to be separated for long," Hiro promised, "Never again. We're a family now."
A family, perfect.
Except for the instant where she woke up halfway through the night in an empty, deserted bed. But Hiro left a note stating the emergency, and every marriage had to make tough compromises.
-
4. hold on to yourself by the sleeves.
-
They found Claire Petrelli inside a run-down diner in the middle of rural Texas, wearing too-tight jean cutoffs and a bright pink t-shirt with a cursive glitter "priceless" across the bust. Charlie could feel her partner gasp in what probably passed for horror with him, and she had to stifle her own giggle. Thankfully, they had used the side entrance and could stay out of sight until they composed themselves.
Charlie was the talker, so she went first, using a very gentle voice. "Claire?"
She looked confused for a moment but immediately perked up, smiling so wide her face looked like it would split. "Charlie, right?" Her drawl was thick.
"Yes," Charlie replied. "It's so nice to finally meet you." Oh, she couldn't keep the smile off of her face. "This is a wonderful day."
"Yeah," Claire beamed. Her face was glowing, and for a moment, Charlie felt herself become overwhelmed by the significance of the day. "Really great."
Claire reached over and grabbed Charlie's hand, squeezing enthusiastically. She could see the nervousness hiding underneath Claire's bright smile. Making sure to still use her gentle voice, Charlie grinned, "Hey, do you want to get in the car now?"
Claire Petrelli nodded and grinned and walked outside with a bounce in her step.
(If Charlie were a bit more melodramatic, she'd say that Claire was walking into her destiny; but Claire had already done that.)
-
Claire Petrelli, although definitely a Petrelli, looked exactly the opposite of her biological family. She was wearing bright pink sneaker/sandal hybrids (Sneadals! they had no backs!) with no socks. Claire was carrying a beat up purple tie-dye backpack, and she was wearing dream catchers as earrings. If Charlie knew her partner, he was silently snickering from the driver's seat.
Not that he was snickering meanly, because Claire had given every indication of having a personality made purely of sunshine, sugar and rainbows, but Charlie knew he was imagining Angela's reaction to Claire in this state. Oh, the look on Angela's face would be ghastly and priceless.
Claire, on the other hand, was not lost in thought. She was sitting cross-legged in the back of the Benz, looking nervously around her. "Are we going to go now?" Her voice was shaking a little, Charlie nodded at her partner.
"Of course we are," Charlie smiled. "Sorry, I guess we just got caught up in how wonderful it is to finally meet you." Claire smiled shakily in return.
Claire drummed her fingers against the side of the door. "So who's your partner?"
The car was starting up, and all of Claire's muscles were visibly tensing. "Oh, he doesn't like it when people use his real name. I call him Bob, for short. He's indicated that you're welcome to call him Bob, too."
"Okay," Claire giggled. "And Bob doesn't actually talk, right?"
"Right," Charlie agreed. "But he does make funny faces when you poke him in the belly button."
Claire laughed so hard that Charlie was almost afraid she would break something, and was unable to stop herself from joining in.
-
When they stopped in Midland for gas, Claire and her partner went inside to get some snacks. Charlie got to call their bosses.
Angela sounded both apprehensive and confident and would not stop stressing the point where Claire was to be well-fed and completely taken care of, and at the end Charlie had promised to call when they reached Abilene, and when they were about to leave on the plane, and when they had landed. Angela sounded a little bit happy, too, her voice was probably the happiest Charlie had ever heard.
Peter called her next. Peter wasn't supposed to know about Claire, because Nathan didn't know about Claire, but Peter was remarkably sneaky. "Good morning, Buttercup!" He was singing. "Isn't this a positively glorious day? How is my darling niece?"
"Peter," Charlie chided, "You aren't supposed to know about this. And she's fine. Stop calling me."
Peter laughed, "I could never stop bothering a girl so lovely as you! I'm going to keep calling you, every hour, on the hour, until you say that I can come with you."
"Too late," Charlie hung up. She ignored Peter's return call, thank God for customized ringtones, and went inside to see the holdup.
Claire was standing by the snack cake rack, clicking her tongue and obviously in a state of indecision. Bob was looking both exasperated and amused, and Charlie couldn't stop the giggle. "I just got off the phone with Peter," she said, just to see Bob roll his eyes. "Your uncle," she clarified for Claire.
"I can't decide between the Twinkies and the Zingers," Claire said, wrinkling her nose adorably.
Charlie walked purposefully over to the rack. "We'll get them both," she exclaimed, "3 of each, and some mini-donuts, and some Ho-Hos. Let's get a few more of those Frappuccinos, while we're at it, and I'm going to need at least 7 of these Rolos for the plane." Claire's face lit up better than a light bulb. "And some SweetTarts! Bob, run and get me two things of orange soda and a big yellow Gatorade!" Claire couldn't stop giggling. "Courtesy of your Uncle Peter," Charlie said.
5 bags of assorted junk later, (Claire had a unexpected, yet welcome, love of Pixy Stix) they were back on the road.
-
Claire shifted fitfully in her seat. "Can you tell me anything about my father? My family? I mean, the stuff that I couldn't already learn from Google..."
"Of course," Charlie said. "I'm probably going to babble here, so feel free to stop me if I go too fast."
"Okay," Claire agreed, sipping her third Frappuccino. But before Charlie could say anything, the car swerved hard. "Oh my Gosh," Claire exclaimed. "That car about to burst on fire!"
There was smoldering wreckage strewn all across the highway, and two cars grotesquely twisted together on the opposite shoulder. The air smelled like burned rubber and gasoline.
Before Charlie could tell her that she shouldn't do something stupid, Claire jumped dramatically from the car. If Bob had decided to speak, Charlie knew he would've been swearing. Charlie was swearing, and she usually hated to do that. She also had a really irrational need for a cigarette, which she didn't smoke. Charlie, because she wasn't absolutely crazy, waited for Bob to stop the car before she ran outside, glad for her practical shoes.
"Claire," she shouted, "What are you doing?"
"I've got to help these people," Claire yelled back. Charlie was very vividly reminded of Peter, and also really annoyed. Claire was running towards the wreckage, yelling that she was going to help. Two other cars had pulled over to the side of the road, presumably to help. It was like a do-gooders pileup or something equally as ridiculous. Charlie was quite grateful that there were no news trucks around.
Claire grabbed one edge of the car and was pulling, covering herself in soot. There was another man next to her, and he was phasing through the car. Charlie wasn't sure whether to curse or cry. A little boy was standing by their beat-up car, cheering.
And then there was a yellow Versa, and Ando Masahashi was inside of it. Then, both passengers of the car were outside of it, and both she and Claire and the phaser were a good 30 feet away from the now-flaming fireball. Hiro.
The formerly-missing Hiro Nakamura was standing in front of her, grinning in his usual glasses. "Charlie," he cried, running over to hug her.
"Hiro," she cried, "Where have you been? You have to call your father and at least tell him you're okay!"
"I don't need to," he smiled, "When I can let you tell him that I am doing well and continuing my mission." He handed her a comic book, which she did not look at. Charlie couldn't look at it, because she needed to look out for Claire. And she wasn't the type to start hyperventilating.
She looked hard at Hiro, memorizing for a few long seconds. "Claire," she yelled, "Get back into the car, please." She waited until Claire was pulled back into the Benz with Bob, refusing to let go of Hiro's hand. "Hiro," she murmured, "I can't just let you continue on with this mission." He started to violently shake his head. "Please don't make me shoot you," she muttered, steadfastly refusing to cry and ignoring the tears in his eyes.
"I have to complete my mission," Hiro stated, his voice full of solemnity. "Goodbye, Charlie." She began to pull the tranq gun from her purse, but he had teleported into the car by the time she had it cocked.
Charlie left a voicemail with the Odessa branch, gave the full description of all involved; and left a short message at the Nakamura offices while she was walking back to the waiting car. "Who was that, Charlie?" Claire was pouting.
"You try to pull a stunt like that again," Charlie grumbled, "And I'll handcuff you to this car. And that was Hiro, an old friend; he's been in love with me since he was 8. He's in some trouble."
-
"I knew about him," Claire said, "Of course, from the annual telecasts and all that. They were a big deal, and I always wondered why Mom never wanted me to watch them, but I just got used to hanging with friends and watching it with them." She picked at the cuff of her shirt. "I really liked one from 97, and I always wished that I had a Dad that wanted me as much as he wanted his daughter. I didn't think it would be him, though. I don't think I even hoped."
Claire was biting her lip too viciously, so Charlie handed her an extra chapstick. "Thanks," Claire smiled, "This whole thing is just so weird, you know? I just wanted to know my family and now there's all of this and everything."
"Yes," Charlie smiled, "But everyone's so glad that you decided to look. We've been searching for you non-stop since the fire, you know."
"I know," Claire said. "It's kind of overwhelming when I think about it too much. I mean, I'm Claire Petrelli, and my father is the father that makes the speech trying to get me back every year." She fiddled with the top of her soda can until it broke, jaggedly. "Mom always just used to say that Dad was worthless, and that he ran out on us. One time, she said that he was a clown in a traveling circus, and I believed her for so long, I used to always want to go to the stupid circus to see if he was there."
"Well," Charlie tried to comfort, "He's in New York City with everybody else."
"Yeah," Claire smiled. "It makes running away completely worth it. I'm glad that I'm not Ella Brown any more."
Claire fiddled with her seatbelt, and the pull-down tray, and the little plastic window shade. Charlie decided to let the conversation lull, Claire could use some sleep.
-
Bob was smiling, and she knew what he was thinking. Charlie had always been able to figure what he was thinking, ever since she was 9.
Right now, if Bob were talking, he'd be saying how happy he was to have finally found Claire.
And Charlie would be agreeing, not talking about her worry for Hiro, not talking about her apprehension for Claire's arrival, not talking about the gnawing worry in her gut that something would go terribly and irreparably wrong. She wouldn't be spending too much time debating whether or not to call Peter, or staring at the sleeping girl, or worrying about the pressure.
Her partner squeezed her hand and she felt better. He placed a warm hand on the top of her head, pulled her over to his chest. His breath was comforting against her ear.
"Things will be all right, love," he whispered, "I promise." Her head was fuzzy, so she wasn't sure if he used English or not, but she was grateful nonetheless.
"My brain is whirring too fast," Charlie admitted. Her partner nodded; she knew what that meant, too.
-
Claire was nervously wringing her hands all through the ride from the airport. Halfway through, she begged, "Can we go to your apartment first? So I can get a shower and change out of these clothes and stuff? I don't want to look like this meeting my father for the first time..."
"Of course, Claire," Charlie agreed, but Claire wasn't finished talking.
"Did you ever wake up one morning and realize you weren't like everybody else? Like you were different?" Claire was babbling. "Like there was just some kind of little change, like clicking into place and suddenly everything was the opposite of what it was supposed to be but it still made some kind of sick, twisted sense?"
Oh, Charlie knew that. Damn. "Not right now," she whispered, gesturing her head towards the driver. "Not in the car."
Claire's eyes were very, very wide. "Okay," she whispered.
-
Claire looked very out-of-place in Charlie's posh apartment. "So can we talk now?" She plopped herself down on Charlie's favorite plush chair.
Charlie sat down across from her and nodded. "So I have this ability," Claire said, "And you have to promise that you won't scream or anything when I show you." Charlie nodded, and then Claire reached over and grabbed the letter-opener from the coffee-table and sliced downwards from elbow to wrist. There was a bright red line of blood, blood like bleeding and harm and she'd hit an artery because there was some gushing and oh.
The flesh of Claire's arm was knitting itself back together, perfectly, as though there had never been an injury. "I can't get hurt," Claire said. "No matter what, I just heal myself back to perfect."
Well, it was definitely an interesting development.
-
She called Angela first, while Claire was in the shower. "Claire has manifested," she babbled, "Rapid cell regeneration, from the looks of it. She showed me."
"Well," Angela said, "That helps explain the fire much more satisfactorily. You'll have her here within the next few hours?"
"Two, at the most," Charlie responded.
And before she could call Peter with the news, Claire was out of the shower, looking bashful. "Did I leave my bag out here?"
"Here, Honey," Charlie smiled, "Why don't you raid my wardrobe to see if there's anything you want."
Claire took a full 40 minutes to settle on one of Charlie's black tank-tops with a loosely knitted blue sweater and Claire's favorite pair of dark jeans. "It's colder here than I thought it would be," Claire blushed. "Thanks for letting me use your clothes."
"Of course," Charlie smiled. "Just remember me when you're famous." She leaned over to help Claire style her hair.
"I just don't know what to do with it now that it's short," Claire confessed. "I'm just so used to having it long, but now it's not and I'm all bloated with PMS and I've got this zit on the side of my neck and what are they going to say when they see me?"
Charlie pulled the other girl into a tight hug, "They're going to say that you look beautiful, because you do."
"I've just been waiting for this for so long," Claire cried. "And now I'm messing up my eyeliner!"
-
Peter met Claire first, ambushing them at the door. He yelled, "Claire!" And before either of them could move to do anything otherwise, Peter had Claire in an overwhelming bear hug. "Welcome back to the family! I'm your Uncle Peter! I love you already! We're going to be best friends!" Claire looked a bit shocked, but Peter's entire face was his smile. "And if you don't smile in the next 2 seconds, I'll have to give you an introductory tickle!"
When Claire smiled, Peter acted affronted. "Well, it looks like now I just have to tickle Charlie instead!"
"I won't take your sloppy seconds," Charlie joked, affectionately punching his arms. They were stuck in the foyer, and Angela was waiting inside.
"And I wouldn't give my oldest friend that isn't a blood relative anything but my neat seconds," Peter grinned. "Oh, Claire," he grabbed her hand, tightly. "Your grandmother is in there waiting. She looks stern and stuff, and she isn't the most cuddly person ever, but I bet you could ask her for cookies and she'd give them to you. She may not look very happy, but that's how she always looks; she's actually beside herself she's so glad to have you here, so don't feel too intimidated."
Peter linked arms with Claire and marched them inside. "I'll be with you the whole time," he whispered conspiratorially. Claire was smiling and Peter was smiling and Angela was smiling coming to meet them, and it was such a perfect family moment.
Charlie quietly excused herself to the couch to watch.
-
Nathan walked slowly down the stairs, and everything changed.
Charlie had known Nathan since she was 7 years old, and she could technically remember every physical expression that he'd ever made, so she was positive that he'd never looked the same as he did at that exact moment.
His eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he was striding quickly down to meet her, arms outstretched and a sad little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
And when the Senator himself reached out to greet his long-lost daughter, smiling, the moment was just so completely perfect.
"Oh, Claire," he whispered, "Welcome home."
Perfect.
-
Hours after the party had disbanded, Charlie was in the study with Arthur and Angela Petrelli, following her usual routine.
"Debrief, please," Angela said. Bob squeezed her hand, then started the tape recorder.
"Recording log for the date of October 24 2006," Charlie began, as the room emptied. "Initial contact was at 10:26:43..."
-
5. I think everything counts a little more than we think.
-
"Charlie," Hiro gasped, "You're alive!"
"Run," she pleaded, "Please just run away."
-
She woke from a drugged sleep on the street of a deserted city.
The sky was unaccountably wide above her, and the rest of the land was a twisted wreck.
Charlie knew what was going on.
She began to search for a sharp piece of metal, probably to slit her wrists with.
-
She saw Ando, from the Diner.
"Charlie," he said. "Oh I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, angry at her short hair. "What's this about?"
"Hiro," he said.
-
Charlie walked out the door one day, and the door had previously been invisible.
"I have a mission for you," The man said, "Whether you want to accept it or not."
She looked at her fingernails, which were unaccountably flawless. "I don't think I will accept it."
-
"Your purpose," a man said, "Is to find my son."
"I don't think I know your son," Charlie said.
"Oh, you do," the man said, "You would still be dead if you didn't."
-
Charlie counted all of the seconds that she was alone in the white room, because she couldn't not count the seconds.
There were 432657 of them, ticking away in the back of her brain.
432658.
432659.
-
A boy asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Dead," she said.
"Impossible," he scoffed, "I fixed that."
"So I feel like a zombie," Charlie decided.
-
She was in a room, a white room, plain, with no visible doors.
Charlie had no visitors.
She also had nobody to talk to, nothing to read and nothing but her breathing to listen to.
Whenever she woke up, there was food in a tray in the center of the room. She was probably being drugged.
-
Charlie's heart was beating, and she was not inside of the diner. She was inside a room, a plain room, and it wasn't the diner, and it didn't feel like a bad dream. There were two men standing above her, and they were above her because she was strapped to what felt like an operating table.
She cried, "What's happening?"
The older, Japanese man said, "Welcome back to life."
-
And suddenly, Charlie was breathing.
-
Author: arenotvalid aka smercy
Rating: PG-13, and its global equivalent
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Charlie, Hiro, assorted
Pairings: Charlie/Hiro
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: vaguely all through season 1
Disclaimer: I don't own "Heroes" and I won't own "Heroes" and I won't make any money from this.
Warnings: none that I can think of
Word Count: 11,750
Status: one-shot, finished
Author's Note: written for heroes_fest prompt: 70 "Charlie impresses customers with her memory", title and all section headings taken from "Ada" by The National.
Summary: 5 ways that Charlie never lived.
-
1. don't talk about the reasons why you don't want to talk about the reasons why you don't want to talk.
-
Charlie was supposed to be getting the lid off of some applesauce, and that was what she was supposed to be doing. Instead, Charlie was in the middle of a deserted dirt road with no cars around, or plants, or people, except for someone looking uncannily like Hiro who was grabbing her arm really tightly. Hiro, who was sitting in his booth, waiting for her to come back after she served the applesauce to Bob at table 9, after she got the damned thing open, which she was supposed to be doing except that she was standing in the middle of a dirt road at night with nothing but streetlights and dirt and some guy that looked a whole lot like Hiro. "Charlie," the guy who looked and sounded like Hiro said, "Charlie!" His grip was really tight on her arm.
"If I close my eyes," she found herself babbling, "If I close them really tightly and ignore this intense nausea and think really hard about applesauce, will I be back in the diner when I open them?" She swallowed, her throat feeling sticky and tight. "Because this would probably be best if it were some kind of waking dream where I'm just zoning out and then imagining really vividly that I'm in the back lot of the diner, which happens to be bizarrely deserted with the cute boy from the diner?" There was a firefly next to her shoulder that was not moving at all, even though Charlie was pretty sure that it was physically impossible. "Please don't say that we're going to be making out now because I don't think that my nerves can handle it. Also, you're a cute boy that looks like the cute boy from the diner except that soul patch is really freaking me out and I don't know that I could actually kiss you with that on your chin, provided that this is a really involved daydream..."
"Charlie," the guy who looked like Hiro with weird facial hair interrupted, "It is Hiro. I don't have time to explain, but I'm from the future. I promise this is not a daydream." Hiro's English was quite improved, if he was telling the truth. "I've come here to save you," he smiled, just exactly like the smile that the other Hiro smiled and he was really giving her a headache. "There's a man in the diner, the suspicious looking one that's seated by the door." She knew the one, just coffee, wouldn't leave for hours, dark glasses and wouldn't show his face. "Well, in about 30 seconds after when I got you, he was going to kill you."
Well, her brain completely broke right then, and she probably looked like a guppy.
"Charlie," Hiro from the future gently shook her arm. "We don't have much time. I'm sorry we don't, but when I say you have to get into your car and drive in the opposite direction from your house as far as you can before you stop, but make sure that you don't break any traffic laws. I'll meet up with you later, give you more money. Don't check into any fancy hotel and don't use your name when you do it." He gasped a little, holding her hand and he had a scar near his thumb that she hadn't noticed before. "I've stopped time," he smiled, "I can't do it for much longer, but I can freeze time and teleport and also travel through time, and I'm from the future where you are murdered, but I can't let that happen to you."
"Okay," she gulped, grabbing his hand tighter. "So I need to get in my car now because I was about to get murdered and you just saved my life because you're Hiro but from the future and I need to drive?" He nodded enthusiastically. "So I guess I should leave my apron out here."
-
Charlie was at a gas station when she probably saw the man who was supposed to have murdered her pull up in some beat up old dodge. (She could recognize his sunglasses and the watch.)
She was pretty sure that it was time to start running or swearing or crying or waking up from the crazy dream to find herself passed out on the floor of the diner covered in applesauce. Or, seeing as none of those options were probably beneficial, Charlie decided to continue filling up her car and to try much harder to look inconspicuous.
Well, that worked until Evil-Sunglasses-Guy actually noticed her. The curse of a redhead, probably, and she noticed this because there were suddenly sharp objects being flung at her head and nobody throwing them and there was a screwdriver embedded the top of her car.
He was stomping, too, very slowly towards her like it was some kind of lame slasher movie or something and Charlie knew she would have been amused or at least a little bit smug if it weren't for the part where he was actually about to kill her and had some kind of telekinesis and she couldn't get her car door opened. She'd spent three months worth of tips on the down payment, but Charlie found herself uncaring as she grabbed the gas nozzle and smacked it right through the back door window.
After that, it was easy to manually unlock the door and jump in the car while he was still stomping around from a good 35 feet away.
Honestly, Evil-Sunglasses-Guy was lucky that she was ethically against any kind of murder, because he would've found himself run the hell over.
-
She'd thought that a 5 minute head start and a much better idea of the roads would buy her more time and avoid a movie-style dramatic car chase across the highway. Except that Charlie was pretty sure that Evil-Sunglasses-Guy had just switched cars and didn't really care about speed limits, whereas she couldn't exactly break it in case the police noticed and she'd get pulled over and then the guy that was set out to murder her would have a sitting duck to shove a screwdriver though her head or something.
Charlie had to switch cars too.
She pulled into a the nearest closed-looking car dealership with a heavy feeling in her stomach and a sick sense of purpose. Emphasis on the sick part, 'cause she hadn't eaten since lunch with Hiro-from-the-present (now did he count as Hiro-from-the-past?) and Charlie found herself considering breaking into a vending machine to get something to eat, because once you'd begun with the law-breaking behavior it was so easy to just continue with it and she was really hungry.
Except she wasn't a criminal and she was doing this to save her life, which was actually a really good thing to do and she didn't actually need to steal a delicious-looking Twinkie from the vending machine because she wasn't exactly starving yet and she was already going to steal a car from the dealership and it was probably best not to compound the problem.
Right. And she wouldn't take an especially good car either, just because.
-
Well, there had been no sign of the Evil-Sunglasses-Guy, (who, if he were smart, should have taken off those damn glasses a long time ago) for a good 276 minutes and probably 17 seconds, and Charlie's eyes hurt and she really needed to get something to eat and sleep and all sorts of necessary biological functions.
She pulled into a dirty-looking motel with some kind of upturned coffee cup on the sign and hid her car in between two beat looking old pickups. Charlie registered under the name Savannah Parker, figuring that it was probably trashy enough to avoid suspicion. She had her hair up, and under a trashy baseball cap, just in case, and she really wished she'd packed an extra change of clothes and especially a toothbrush, but it wasn't like she knew that she was supposed to get murdered and then conveniently rescued.
The room was tiny and there were cobwebs all over the tops of all of the lamps that she didn't want to turn on so the whole thing looked gray and ominous. She closed the holey, flower patterned drapes, just in case. Her feet took her to the bathroom, where she splashed water on her face and tried very hard not to worry her pulse rate up any higher. Charlie found herself whispering, "It'll be okay, it'll be okay," and she wasn't exactly sure how to stop it.
Her bed wasn't the most comfortable bed ever, but better than a car seat or the floor. Charlie set the alarm for 5 hours, just in case, and pulled the comforter off the bed. It was probably covered in hooker juice, and smelled disgusting. Hiro-from-the-future had said she needed a trashy motel, so she'd gotten her 40 bucks worth. The room was too hot, but she didn't want to bother messing with the air-conditioner.
She crawled under the covers with all her clothes and shoes on. She did not cry.
-
Going down some deserted back road with the radio blaring, Charlie almost missed Hiro-from-the-future standing in the middle of the road with a huge dufflebag. She was suddenly, irrationally grateful that she hadn't chosen that moment to be checking her rearview again.
He was smiling when she pulled off to the side of the road to meet him. "Here," he grinned, handing her the bag, "I brought you some things. Let's put this in the car." Charlie nodded, feeling ridiculously weak. "Versa," he giggled, "Excellent choice!"
Hiro-from-the-future sat with her in the big back seat and unzipped the dufflebag to reveal another dufflebag and 3 backpacks. Inside the dufflebag was a purse, which he handed to her first. "Bathroom stuff," he said, "Toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, hair elastics, 3 different kinds of soap, shampoo, conditioner, hand lotion, deodorant, and 5 different disposable cell phones with my number programmed into it in case of emergency, make sure to stomp on it until it's broken and sparking before you throw it out once it's used."
The first backpack was full of 20 dollar bills, just stuffed full of them, probably more money than she had held at one time. The next one was the same, and the third one had all sorts of visas and international money and passports and 5 wallets full of credit cards. "I don't know how long you'll need to run," Hiro-from-the-future said. "I'm going to take care of you for as long as you need me." And he twisted his hands adorably. "Right now, Sylar doesn't seem to be following you closely enough to be dangerous. I would have been here sooner, but I did not remember how stubborn my past self was..."
"I'd kiss you right now," Charlie giggled, "If my mouth wasn't totally disgusting."
"For now, I will accept the spirit of that," Hiro replied, blushing.
"Next time," Charlie giggled. "You'd better watch out, because my teeth will be brushed and I will be ready."
Oh, he had the most adorable blush.
-
Even though it had been a week since Charlie had ran away from home, ("Ran away from home for my life," she liked to call it.) she could not get rid of the nagging and persistent feeling that she was being followed, even though the cars that she thought might tailing her had two people in them and future-Hiro had said that Sylar never traveled with a partner. Also, the silhouettes were all wrong, but she couldn't get rid of it. Things kept matching up too precisely.
And Hiro said that her ability was her memory, so Charlie knew she had to use it. She couldn't exactly figure how to use it to its best ability while she was on the run, except to possibly analyze weird patterns, but she was sure that she could use her big memory to figure it out eventually. Language tapes hadn't helped, because she had the pronunciation right after the first try and the repetition was terribly boring. Plus, it distracted her from analyzing the patterns of cars in her rearview mirror.
Or she was being extra paranoid because of the newspaper article. But when Charlie saw that a serial killer matching Sylar's description had murdered some cheerleader 50 miles away from her and the police couldn't find him at all, she had a right to be worried. And it wasn't paranoia if there were actually people out to get you.
And her teeth were furry and gross, so she pulled into the nearest motel. On her impromptu road trip through Texas, 'cause Hiro said to stay in-state, Charlie had discovered that 1 out of every 3 non-chain motels had a cowboy hat somewhere on the sign. The latest one was actually pretty decent quality for 60 bucks.
Charlie was tired of being paranoid, though, and for waiting for Hiro and barely getting any sleep and working her mind up to dangerous levels. She was reading "Catch-22," so that probably didn't help. But it wasn't just like she could stop. Her brain was working to the point of overworking and she needed a distraction and a lot of the excitement of the trip had worn off so she was homesick and really wanted to call her family and the diner to at least tell them she hadn't died alone somewhere.
But she wasn't dead, and she really didn't want to be. The quilt on the bed had 84 squares and 7 of them were frayed on the edges. The book said: "Dear Mrs., Mr., Miss, or Mr. And Mrs. Daneeka: Words cannot express the deep personal grief I experienced when your husband, son, father, or brother was killed, wounded, or reported missing in action." (That did not help either.)
-
There was what was most likely an invisible man in Charlie's hotel room and his rustling was probably what woke her up.
The remote had moved a half-inch to the right and her magazines weren't stacked properly and the pencil was twisted 3/4ths of an inch in the wrong direction. And the chain on the secondary lock on the door had shifted position, and Charlie was almost scared to look at her window because that was probably where the invisible man had gotten in. Hiro had said that Sylar didn't have the power of invisibility, but Hiro didn't know where Sylar was and she wasn't going to take chances.
There was a knife and a handgun under her pillow and Charlie had known how to shoot since she was 14, even though bullets probably wouldn't work with the telekinetically powered man, so she'd have to surprise him. Or, if she couldn't surprise him, she'd be damned if Sylar was going to go sorting through her brain for something that would help him continue a mad killing spree.
She probably couldn't surprise him. Holding herself hostage was probably the best solution. Charlie very quickly sat up in bed, making sure to get her legs untangled from under the covers, thankful that she had worn plain pajamas, and grabbed the gun. Before there was another noise, Charlie had the safety off and the gun cocked to underneath her chin. "Stop what you're doing, Asshole," she declared.
There wasn't another noise, but the bathroom door moved three inches very slowly. She wasn't wrong. "Just because you're invisible doesn't mean I don't notice you," she continued. Charlie heard what sounded like a muffled curse. "I can hear you, Asshole. The second I feel something touch my head, I'm pulling this trigger."
"I'm not Sylar," the invisible voice said. "I promise." The invisible voice had a strong English accent. Hiro hadn't mentioned anything about Sylar having an accent.
"You're not visible," Charlie said, "You can't prove anything. And I don't take promises from strange, invisible men."
So in the corner next to the television and a good 4 feet away from the bathroom door, a very tall man materialized, or visualized or something. "I'm not Sylar," he repeated.
He certainly didn't look like Sylar. "But I have no way of knowing whether or not Sylar picked up shape-shifting along with invisibility after he killed that cheerleader in Odessa," she countered. "It's been a few days, I hear he gets around."
"I promise I'm not Sylar," the formerly-invisible man said, slowly moving closer. "My name is Claude."
"You're not doing anything to convince me that you're not Sylar," she said, "And stop walking!"
He froze. "Sylar wears a watch at all times," he sighed, "He always wears it on his right wrist and he never takes it off, even to shower or kill. The watch is where he gets the name Sylar." Hiro had told her about the watch. Claude pulled up his sleeves, no watch. "I don't have a watch. And I can't shapeshift, and I don't have telekinesis; I'm just invisible." He pulled his pockets inside-out and slowly stepped out of his shoes.
"Okay," Charlie smiled. She very quickly moved the gun from her chin to point square at his chest.
"Whoa," Claude groaned, "What are you doing?"
"You're an invisible man sneaking around in my motel room, and I'm a girl that's on the run from a crazed serial killer. What the hell are you doing?" There was an odd rustling sound by her shoulder, but she ignored it. "You turn invisible again and I'll shoot you before you can move."
Claude smiled, a little excitedly. "You're a firecracker, you are." Charlie was beyond tired of all of the "fiery redhead" comments her hair brought.
Then, she had a pain in her shoulder near the left shoulder blade and it felt like something was sticking out of it and her vision was getting fuzzy. She dropped the gun just in case she accidentally pulled the trigger, even though she was pissed as all get out at the crazy invisible man that had just shot her with something. Charlie was tired, too, and after all of the effort and hiding and Hiro, she really didn't want to die.
Her words were all slurring together and she could barely understand them as she was speaking, but she couldn't stop. "Please don't wanna die, please don't wanna die, please don't wanna die." And her vision was going black and her heart was beating too slowly and Charlie was so tired and she just didn't want to die.
-
When Charlie woke up, she was in a blue room. Everything was blue, and beeping and cold.
Claude the formerly invisible man was standing next to her, patting her hand. "Not gonna die, Sweetheart," he drawled. "I promise."
There were a two other men in the room and something was strapped to her head and she was strapped in a bed and actually really scared. Claude tried to shush her, gently stroking the top of her hand, but her head hurt so badly and the man wearing glasses looked so menacing...
"Just going to have some tests," Claude said, "Nothing too terrible." The other guy, who was very tall and very dark and bald and pretty was staring at her. He had his mouth pressed together like he was worried.
"I don't want tests," she babbled, "I have this inoperable blood clot in my brain, and it's inoperable because it's right next to this minor aneurysm and you have stuff strapped to my head and it might probably kill me."
The man with the intimidating glasses looked down on her. "We'll be careful," he said. His voice was so calm that it moved from comforting to alarming and everything was just so blue.
Claude reached out and grabbed her other hand, squeezing like he was leaving or something. "Don't worry, Charlie, soon you'll forget all of this."
The blue was overpowering and her head hurt and she was crying. "No, I won't," Her face was sticky from the tears and she was almost choking herself with panic. "I won't forget, I can't. Please just stop!"
"Of course you'll forget," Claude soothed, "Everybody does."
But she wouldn't.
-
2. all alone, all together, all together in the dark.
-
Charlie Andrews was on the run, like in Thelma and Louise, except that there were three of them and they weren't exactly against the whole world.
Just the Company. Just where it was important.
And while Charlie was driving the car, she wouldn't drive over the edge of anything. (And there weren't any canyons nearby.)
-
Mr. Linderman came to the side of her bed and he said, "Hello, my name is Mr. Linderman. I am here because I'm going to save your life."
He pulled all of the tubes from her arms, all 18 of them, and placed one cool hand on her forehead. One of his thumbs stroked her eyebrow, and his other hand was resting on the top of her head over where the damage was.
She was scared, but she didn't have the energy to run away or scream or anything. "Shhh, little Charlie," Mr. Linderman said. His hair was white and his eyebrows were white, but his beard was sprinkled with gray. He didn't have kind eyes, but they weren't mean either.
But there was warmth coming from his fingers into her head and spiraling down to her toes, warming her all up. Charlie's head spun like it did whenever she got a headache, except like it was in reverse.
"Everything is going to be just fine, now, little Charlie," Mr. Linderman said, sinking into the chair. "We're going to have a lovely partnership, I can tell."
-
Elle had never been to a McDonalds. This was a travesty.
Elle loved Slushos and Cheetos and Doritos and any kind of junk food that ended in an "os".
Elle was on a rampage of junk food, plunking down with a bowl full of party mix on the hotel bed every night, and Charlie had to beg to get her to eat an apple.
Elle cut her hair short, too short, and talked about dyeing it purple. She painted her nails black.
All 3 of them took field trips to the McDonald's Play Place, diving into the ball pit and pigging out on fries.
Elle fell asleep every night all curled up around Charlie, and slept for a solid 8 hours every time.
And she didn't have any problems controlling her ability.
-
Charlie had been in the Texas branch of the Company for 19 days, 8 hours, and 31 minutes, about, before she met anybody her age.
She'd been stuck in meetings, memorizing the meetings all day long for weeks. Then, Bob Bishop (alchemy) came up to her, and asked if she'd like to meet his daughter, Elle (electricity). Of course, Charlie agreed.
Charlie had heard that Elle was difficult, but nobody ever said that she was pretty. Elle had a pretty room, all full of dolls and her walls were pink and her pillows were ruffle-y and she probably had two whole closets full of sparkly dresses. And Elle had pretty hair and a face like a doll.
They watched 2 movies and played Barbies for a little while before Charlie wanted the popcorn bowl and Elle had it for like 20 minutes and wouldn't share at all, but when Charlie tried to get her to share, Elle shocked her.
And it hurt, and it jolted through her entire body, sizzling and burning and flickering pain all through everywhere. Charlie didn't realize it, but she was crying and curled up in the corner. "Why did you do that," she sobbed, "It felt like you were killing me!"
"You tried to take my popcorn," Elle pouted.
Charlie sniffled, "Didn't you want to be my friend? I thought you liked me; I didn't think you wanted to kill me..."
"I didn't want to kill you," Elle cried, "You should've just left my popcorn alone!"
Charlie reached over and smacked Elle across the face. "You can't be my friend if you're gonna try to kill me! Even if I steal your popcorn, which I didn't do because it was my turn and you hogged it, and even if I steal one of your dolls. You can't be my friend if you're gonna shock me on purpose ever!"
Charlie tried to smooth the static out of her hair, really upset. Elle was crying. "You hate me now," she whimpered. "Everybody hates me."
"I don't hate you, Elle," Charlie sighed, "But you just can't shock me on purpose again, okay?"
"Okay," Elle said, reaching over for a hug.
Charlie didn't look at Bob Bishop at all, when he came in 2 minutes and 30 seconds later and said it was time to go.
-
The Haitian found them in a Burger King in DC, while they were in the middle of their grand tour of fast food icons.
Hana intercepted the text message from where the Haitian was sitting in the parking lot, waiting to get in. Bennet wasn't with him, so they probably were split up, and that meant that there wouldn't be much time for reinforcements.
When Charlie thought of seeing the Haitian again, she felt a little homesick pang in her stomach, but she ignored it. "We're gonna bust out of this joint," Elle giggled, biting her straw dramatically. Hana leaned over and kissed the top of Elle's head.
"Damn right we are, Baby," Hana smirked. "Right out through the back door, gonna hotwire a car, leave all of our possessions behind, get to a city."
Charlie smiled, grabbed Elle's hand tightly. "Let's do it now."
The Haitian wouldn't find them again.
-
"This is our newest member," Thompson (un-evolved) said, pulling a boy in by the shoulders. "He doesn't have a name that we know of, and he won't speak." He clapped the boy on the back, probably uncomfortably hard, "He can pull memories from people's heads like grub worms!"
"Does he speak French?" Charlie scuffed her sneakers on the floor. "I finished my French tapes 4 days ago, and I'd be willing to try that..."
"We've tried," Thompson said. "Don't bother." He pushed the boy towards her, and the boy wouldn't look her in the face. "We're going to try pairing you up, see if your abilities are useful together. Get to know each other now, all that. No kissing, though." He leered, because Thompson had a bad habit of leering.
Charlie waited until Thompson was gone. "Hello," she whispered in French, "I'm Charlie. You don't have to respond to me if you don't want to." The boy smiled. "I want to give you a nickname," she whispered, "Because everybody deserves a name."
She grabbed his hand, smiling, "I think you look like a Ted. Is Ted okay?" He nodded.
"Good," she smiled. "I won't forget that. I can't forget anything."
-
"Road trip," Elle roared. "We've got the red vines, we've got the cupcakes; it's crazy delicious time!"
Hana giggled from the wheel. "Charlie is looking especially crazy delicious today!"
Charlie smacked Hana's arm, gently. "This crazy delicious-looking girl says that we need to head up into Philly, continue our grand pan-country epic fast food tour with some Dunkin' Donuts and see if we can find a White Castle."
"White Castle, wooooo," Elle yelled. "Road trip with foxy ladies!"
"You need to cut her off from the energy drinks," Hana whispered.
Charlie nodded. "I know. But she hides them somewhere and I don't know where it is and I can't find it and I'm beginning to think it's intravenous." Hana giggled.
Elle shrieked, "Time for a pit stop! We're out of pixy stix!"
-
Charlie had a cyanide pill implanted underneath her collarbone, two and a half inches under the marks for her radioactive isotope. She'd had it since she was 11, and it was rigged to burst as soon as she left the Company grounds, so she didn't ever leave. Hana thought she was crazy, but Hana thought that everything was crazy.
When Bennet (un-evolved) found out, he looked like he was going to throw up. He wouldn't look at her for nearly 3 months. Elle couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much.
Elle liked running her finger over the bump and having Charlie explain why it was there. "You know the secrets to their meetings, Charlie," she giggled, "You're the most important part of their recon! You're too valuable to leave! You're a special agent!"
"Okay," Charlie said, smiling. "So long as you'll be my partner."
"Okay," Elle replied, "So long as that doesn't make me a trained monkey. That'd be pretty lame."
Charlie didn't tell Elle about the meetings where they talked about pushing her to the limits of her abilities. Charlie wished she could forget them. Ted couldn't get memories out of her brain, though, so she couldn't.
That didn't actually matter, though, 'cause special agents knew how to keep secrets.
-
Claude found them in Boston, while they were running north to Canada. Elle didn't like the cold, so she was buried under 5 layers of blankets and snuggled up tightly.
Charlie wasn't an idiot. She could tell when the layout of the room had been adjusted.
She woke Elle gently, because it was unfair to surprise her. Elle had never been able to wake up well, but she took this one okay. "Elle," she murmured, "The Company's here. When I count to 3, I need you to wake Hana up as gently as you can, and once you've done that, grab her and run out the door. Hana knows the rest." Elle nodded.
Elle was done before the "3".
In 43 seconds, Elle and Hana were completely gone, and Charlie was alone in the hotel room with a gun and an invisible man. "Hi, Claude," she drawled.
Claude melted into visibility. "You're in a heap of trouble, the lot of you are."
"It was worth it," Charlie smiled, "Better than worth it."
Hana and Elle, if they were running fast like they were supposed to, would've gotten to the parking lot and were already well on their way to hotwiring another car, and with another 30 seconds, they'd be ready to go. They would wait another 2 minutes for her before going off alone, and Charlie could stall for that long.
"We went to Wendy's," she smiled, "I haven't been to one of those since I was 5 years old. And Elle hadn't ever. She's been so happy, Claude."
"She's dangerous," Claude stated.
"She didn't have one flare-up for the entire trip," Charlie said. "Not one." Hana would take good care of Elle, she had plenty of practice from the earlier part of the trip.
And 21 days of freedom was more than enough for Charlie.
Claude was frowning, trying to sneak closer to the gun. "I've filled a full life, Claude," she smiled, "I think I'm ready to die now."
His face fell, dramatically, hard. "You don't need to do that, Charlie," he pleaded, "We all love you."
"I know," she smiled. "But you can activate that cyanide pill any time now."
-
Charlie couldn't forget. Her brain kept whirring and whirring and she was just a pawn in the Company and she knew too much and she couldn't ever forget.
And in the footage, Elle (electricity) was screaming like Elle was always screaming and they just wouldn't stop hurting her.
Charlie knew 15 languages, but she couldn't figure out how to make it stop.
They said that Elle was a psychopath, except that Elle never shocked anybody she loved on purpose, and everybody else tried to hurt her. Well, Ted didn't try to hurt her, but Ted didn't have a choice.
Charlie had a brain that wouldn't ever shut off, and an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the Company, and a cyanide pill implanted near her radioactive tracking isotope.
Hana (data transception) wanted to get out, and Hana could get into the computers and mess with their insides, maybe get them out.
Elle could manipulate electricity, almost perfectly, and bend it to her will, just in case.
They were going to get out. Charlie was going to breathe some fresh air, and Elle was going to live a full month without any tests.
She had a plan brewing in her head, just waiting to get out. And Charlie could almost taste the real air already.
"Hold on, Elle-Belle," she'd say, while Elle was crying in her bed after treatment. "Hold on, Charlie," she'd think to her herself.
-
3. I can hear the sound of your laugh through the wall.
-
"Oh," Charlie muttered, fussing around her messy little apartment, "Tom, why did I marry your father?"
Her fussy little baby didn't say anything, as she expected, but didn't fuss more, like she had.
"Was it because he was adorable, like you? With big fat cheeks like yours?"
Tomohiro leaned into her arms and slobbered sloppy baby kisses all over the side of her face. "Well, he's a better kisser than you are."
Tom, probably in response, grabbed a full fistful of hair and tugged.
Charlie could count the seconds until her husband would come home, but that wouldn't help.
-
During Ando's weekly check-in, (Tom's health is fine, Hiro's health is fine, Tom is busy teething, Hiro is busy saving innocent civilians from peril) Ando mentioned that Hiro's father was in the city, looking for him, and probably anyone connected with him.
"I think the man has some kind of tracking device implanted in Hiro," Ando said, laughing in the way that meant he was only using it to keep from crying in frustration, "An actual, literal tracking device. And our sources at the Bureau say that he's probably found out about the marriage, so it will just be a matter of time before he figures out about Tom, too."
Charlie wanted to cry, a little. "We've just gotten settled in the city, Ando," She said, "We're trying so hard to be close to Hiro, and I haven't seen him in months! Don't pull us farther apart, please!"
Her son was 6 months old, and after the first 2 weeks of his life, he'd seen his father 8 times. Charlie hadn't talked with her husband in 15 days and 9 hours. "Charlie," Ando contended, "I'm not trying to pull you apart, and you know that. Hiro would be with you if he could, but we need him to help with the relocating. He's working 13 hour days, and he needs all the sleep he can get."
"I know," Charlie sighed, "I know that so well. But I spent the whole day with an angry, teething baby, and I haven't slept well in weeks and my finger is raw from where he gnawed on it, and I'm covered in drool, I need a shower so badly, and I miss my husband. Don't lecture me about duty when I'm doing this entirely by myself."
"I'm sorry," Ando said, but Charlie wasn't listening.
"Tom's health is fine, my health is continuing, our safety situation, as of now, remains unchanged. Update over."
She didn't listen to hear his goodbye, just hung up the phone.
-
Charlie left Tom and his big bag of toys with their trustworthy neighbor from the apartment two floors down. Her cellphone was in her pocket, turned on. Tom was transfixed by the cat wallpaper as she left.
She walked quickly to the park, pausing to get a pretzel that was a little too heavy on the salt. Charlie adjusted her hair from under the scarf, buttoned up her coat and ambled slowly towards the center of the park. She had noticed a Japanese man prominently on a bench the day before, and he was in the same spot when she looked again.
"Excuse me, Sir," She asked, "I was wondering if that spot was taken?"
He turned his head and nothing else to look at her, arching one eyebrow. "Not at all," he said, but didn't move to give her any room.
"Thank you," she chirped. Charlie smiled her biggest smile, the one that could get her regulars to tip her an extra few bucks for no other reason. "Nice weather we're having now," she started.
He only murmured an assent with his head buried in a newspaper, business section. Charlie knew that the trick was to keep sunny, to pretend like she didn't notice the part where he was trying to ignore her. "The breeze is just enough so that it cools everything down without making it chilly." She looked down at her hands, which were fiddling with the red pattern on her skirt; looked back up at him, smiling.
"Yes," he said, sternly but not unkindly. "I have always enjoyed these sorts of breezes."
Charlie smiled again, but didn't grin. "You don't really sound like you're from around here, so do you get the nice winds wherever you're from?"
"Japan," he said, "And yes, we do get pleasant winds."
"Japan," she cooed. "I was just in Japan! I got to take a year abroad with my college and they sent me over to Osaka and I was there for a couple of months. I loved it there; where are you from?" Charlie brushed her hair away from her face and turned to see him better.
She could see the little lines on his face begin to relax a bit, subtly. "Tokyo," he said. "Do you speak much Japanese?"
Charlie switched to Japanese, answering, "Yes," confidently.
He smiled a little, asked her, "What was your favorite meal?" He talked quickly, unforgivingly.
"Sushi," she smiled, "But I can't find anywhere decent to get it now that I'm back."
"The unfortunate part of living in New York City," he said. "I have yet to find anywhere to meet my standards either."
She untangled her hands from her skirt and reached over to shake his hand. "I'm Sophia," she greeted in English, "Sophia O'Conner."
"Kaito Nakamura," he said. "Pleasure to meet you."
Charlie made a great show of looking at her watch. "It's been wonderful meeting you too," she said. "But I only have five minutes before I need to head over to the Subway. I'm sorry that I'll have to cut this short, it's so unusual that I meet anyone that's even been to Japan, much less someone so polite. Will you be around here later?"
His eyes smiled, "I am not sure how long I will be here, but this trip will probably last a few days."
She pulled herself up, keeping eye contact with the man who was in all likelihood her father-in-law. "Well, I hope I'll see you again. Maybe we could talk some more about Japan? In Japanese so that my speaking doesn't get rusty?"
Kaito's face had turned once more into an impassive mask. "If I see you again, Sophia, I will try to make the time." He nodded in her direction, "You should be on your way now, it is best to be early and not miss your train."
-
Ando said, politely, "I'm sorry, Hiro still isn't here. If I had known that you would call, I would have told him of the time but-"
"I actually need to talk with you, Ando," She murmured. "I don't think that Hiro would give me a straight answer and I need one." Tom was drooling all over her finger and his favorite Oscar the Grouch bib.
Ando audibly gulped. "How can I help you, Charlie?"
Tom made happy baby gurgles as she switched him to another knee, hair all askew. "Is Hiro's father actively looking for me? It's just that lately there have been these people around looking for a redhead with an Asian baby and that sounds awfully suspicious."
"Kaito," Ando muttered. "That must by why he's left Japan. We didn't know that he knew about Tom, but now that he knows... I'll have to talk to Hiro about this."
Tom's head had sunk into her shoulder and stayed long enough to make a big sticky mark all over her shirt. "Okay," Charlie found herself saying, "What do I do?"
Ando sighed. "Same as before, I think. Just watch out for anyone searching for someone like you, middle-aged Japanese men, large groups of people entering your building. I'll call you if we decide to do anything else. And be careful."
"I'm always careful," Charlie chirped. "Send my love to Hiro."
She would've waited for Ando to say goodbye, but Tom was trying to eat the telephone cord and she really needed to hang up.
-
On their honeymoon, Charlie discovered that she couldn't turn her memory off. "Hiro," she said, "I can remember all of my dreams, every last one."
He'd kissed her, and shushed her, and stroked her hair until she'd calmed down.
"I can remember everything," She cried, "Every last thing. The progression of time. I count the seconds in my head, I can't stop, I can't myself to stop knowing when a second passes..."
Hiro kissed her again, "Everything will be okay, my love," he'd said.
And she'd felt it. Charlie had felt like everything was going to be all right, and that the future would be safe and bright and wonderful, but she couldn't get that feeling to stay when Hiro wasn't around. Charlie needed it, too, especially when her husband was gone and she couldn't stop counting the seconds.
She wanted to stop counting the seconds; she just couldn't.
-
Back when Charlie was in Texas, before she met her husband, she used to regularly impress the customers with her memory. Bob from table 5 would always tip her extra if she'd help him finish his crossword, and she'd won 14 different bets dealing with the states (name all 50, alphabetical order, capitals, backwards alphabetical order, etc.)
She didn't do that any more. It was too dangerous.
Dangerous like secretly meeting with Kaito Nakamura in secret under false pretenses. Charlie was most likely a huge idiot.
A huge idiot with a huge memory that was tired of looking at the same four walls over and over and a baby that wouldn't stop crying, despite being the cutest baby to ever grace the planet, and a huge idiot that was lonely and desperate for human contact.
As soon as she got to move in with Hiro, she'd stop. The nightmares would probably stop then, too.
-
When Charlie got the call from Ando, the real call, 4 weeks later, Tom was right in the middle of Sesame Street and Oscar the Grouch was on.
Tom loved Oscar the Grouch the best. Tom probably wanted to have his name changed to grumpypants.
Tom was going to go see his father in less than 6 hours, and Charlie had to pack.
Oscar the Grouch took that as his cue to start singing "The Grouch Song," and quite appropriately.
-
Tom was in his carrier and their bags were packed and waiting by the door when Charlie had a brilliant idea.
Well, it probably wasn't too brilliant, but her son only had one grandparent.
He was sitting in his customary spot when she walked over, Tom bundled in her arms. Kaito's eyes opened wider, but his face didn't visibly betray anything. "Hello, Kaito," she said.
"Is that your son?" Charlie nodded.
"His name is Tomohiro," she said. Tom snuggled his head into the crook of her neck, smiling adorably.
"He is handsome," Kaito stated.
She could hear the emotion in his voice, hiding between the surface. Charlie sat next to her estranged father-in-law on a park bench in the middle of Central Park with her baby playing in between them, and she did so for a while, trying to savor the moment.
Tom decided to play the game where he grabbed for the nearest nose and giggled and refused to give it up, and Kaito was completely charmed.
But Ando's taxi was waiting on the outside of the park, where they had agreed to meet, she could see it. Her bags were in the taxi and Hiro was waiting.
So Charlie let Tom give his grandfather a sloppy kiss, then asked Kaito to go and grab her a pretzel, and while he obliged, she picked up her baby and ran off into the sunset. She didn't look behind her to see what happened when he noticed.
As soon as Charlie got into the taxi, she smiled at Ando, as warmly as she could.
-
When Charlie entered the main room of the operations building, she wasn't sure of what to expect.
She certainly didn't think that it would be a plain concrete-walled place with no decorations or anything, and she especially didn't think that one of her favorite regulars from the diner would be sitting at the opposite side of the table, smirking at her. "Charlie?"
"Yep," she said, handing Tom over to Ando. "Mr. B?"
"What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" He shuffled through some papers, adjusted his glasses. "I don't have you on my list..."
"I got married," she said, smiling, "My name changed."
He chuckled, "Congratulations." Mr. Bennet flipped through more papers. "You wouldn't happen to be Hiro Nakamura's Charlie, would you?"
"That's me."
"And double congratulations for the baby," he laughed. "And my list says that you have an enhanced memory, so day after tomorrow I'll have you fill out a rudimentary survey, okay?"
Ando nodded in her direction, leaned over and kissed the top of Tom's little head. "Okay, Mr. B," she grinned. "I'll see you later, sometime after I see my husband again. Goodbye!"
-
Hiro grabbed her, hard, pulling her into an overenthusiastic kiss. "Oh, Charlie," he said, "Oh, my wife."
For a few, glorious seconds, Charlie was pulled completely into his kiss. "Oh, Charlie, I've missed you," He exclaimed, "My Charlie."
"Do you want some waffles?" Hiro was babbling, unable to stop kissing her lips and cheeks and neck. "I can make you some waffles, good ones, we have frozen ones too. Are you hungry?"
"I missed you too, Hiro," Charlie smiled. She smiled so widely that her face hurt.
Ando stepped up behind them, holding Tom securely. Hiro turned to face them, face suddenly full of solemnity. "My son," he said, "My precious son, Tomohiro."
Tom grabbed for Hiro, hands grasping at hair and snuggling at his chest, cooing happily. "Charlie," Hiro gasped, "He remembers me!"
And oh, there was nothing that could make the moment more perfect.
-
Ando watched Tom for a few hours while Hiro and Charlie were given time to become reacquainted.
Later, they lay naked in bed and talked, for hours.
(Her husband kissed until her lips were aching, and again until she was crying, and his tenderness did not waver.)
"We aren't going to be separated for long," Hiro promised, "Never again. We're a family now."
A family, perfect.
Except for the instant where she woke up halfway through the night in an empty, deserted bed. But Hiro left a note stating the emergency, and every marriage had to make tough compromises.
-
4. hold on to yourself by the sleeves.
-
They found Claire Petrelli inside a run-down diner in the middle of rural Texas, wearing too-tight jean cutoffs and a bright pink t-shirt with a cursive glitter "priceless" across the bust. Charlie could feel her partner gasp in what probably passed for horror with him, and she had to stifle her own giggle. Thankfully, they had used the side entrance and could stay out of sight until they composed themselves.
Charlie was the talker, so she went first, using a very gentle voice. "Claire?"
She looked confused for a moment but immediately perked up, smiling so wide her face looked like it would split. "Charlie, right?" Her drawl was thick.
"Yes," Charlie replied. "It's so nice to finally meet you." Oh, she couldn't keep the smile off of her face. "This is a wonderful day."
"Yeah," Claire beamed. Her face was glowing, and for a moment, Charlie felt herself become overwhelmed by the significance of the day. "Really great."
Claire reached over and grabbed Charlie's hand, squeezing enthusiastically. She could see the nervousness hiding underneath Claire's bright smile. Making sure to still use her gentle voice, Charlie grinned, "Hey, do you want to get in the car now?"
Claire Petrelli nodded and grinned and walked outside with a bounce in her step.
(If Charlie were a bit more melodramatic, she'd say that Claire was walking into her destiny; but Claire had already done that.)
-
Claire Petrelli, although definitely a Petrelli, looked exactly the opposite of her biological family. She was wearing bright pink sneaker/sandal hybrids (Sneadals! they had no backs!) with no socks. Claire was carrying a beat up purple tie-dye backpack, and she was wearing dream catchers as earrings. If Charlie knew her partner, he was silently snickering from the driver's seat.
Not that he was snickering meanly, because Claire had given every indication of having a personality made purely of sunshine, sugar and rainbows, but Charlie knew he was imagining Angela's reaction to Claire in this state. Oh, the look on Angela's face would be ghastly and priceless.
Claire, on the other hand, was not lost in thought. She was sitting cross-legged in the back of the Benz, looking nervously around her. "Are we going to go now?" Her voice was shaking a little, Charlie nodded at her partner.
"Of course we are," Charlie smiled. "Sorry, I guess we just got caught up in how wonderful it is to finally meet you." Claire smiled shakily in return.
Claire drummed her fingers against the side of the door. "So who's your partner?"
The car was starting up, and all of Claire's muscles were visibly tensing. "Oh, he doesn't like it when people use his real name. I call him Bob, for short. He's indicated that you're welcome to call him Bob, too."
"Okay," Claire giggled. "And Bob doesn't actually talk, right?"
"Right," Charlie agreed. "But he does make funny faces when you poke him in the belly button."
Claire laughed so hard that Charlie was almost afraid she would break something, and was unable to stop herself from joining in.
-
When they stopped in Midland for gas, Claire and her partner went inside to get some snacks. Charlie got to call their bosses.
Angela sounded both apprehensive and confident and would not stop stressing the point where Claire was to be well-fed and completely taken care of, and at the end Charlie had promised to call when they reached Abilene, and when they were about to leave on the plane, and when they had landed. Angela sounded a little bit happy, too, her voice was probably the happiest Charlie had ever heard.
Peter called her next. Peter wasn't supposed to know about Claire, because Nathan didn't know about Claire, but Peter was remarkably sneaky. "Good morning, Buttercup!" He was singing. "Isn't this a positively glorious day? How is my darling niece?"
"Peter," Charlie chided, "You aren't supposed to know about this. And she's fine. Stop calling me."
Peter laughed, "I could never stop bothering a girl so lovely as you! I'm going to keep calling you, every hour, on the hour, until you say that I can come with you."
"Too late," Charlie hung up. She ignored Peter's return call, thank God for customized ringtones, and went inside to see the holdup.
Claire was standing by the snack cake rack, clicking her tongue and obviously in a state of indecision. Bob was looking both exasperated and amused, and Charlie couldn't stop the giggle. "I just got off the phone with Peter," she said, just to see Bob roll his eyes. "Your uncle," she clarified for Claire.
"I can't decide between the Twinkies and the Zingers," Claire said, wrinkling her nose adorably.
Charlie walked purposefully over to the rack. "We'll get them both," she exclaimed, "3 of each, and some mini-donuts, and some Ho-Hos. Let's get a few more of those Frappuccinos, while we're at it, and I'm going to need at least 7 of these Rolos for the plane." Claire's face lit up better than a light bulb. "And some SweetTarts! Bob, run and get me two things of orange soda and a big yellow Gatorade!" Claire couldn't stop giggling. "Courtesy of your Uncle Peter," Charlie said.
5 bags of assorted junk later, (Claire had a unexpected, yet welcome, love of Pixy Stix) they were back on the road.
-
Claire shifted fitfully in her seat. "Can you tell me anything about my father? My family? I mean, the stuff that I couldn't already learn from Google..."
"Of course," Charlie said. "I'm probably going to babble here, so feel free to stop me if I go too fast."
"Okay," Claire agreed, sipping her third Frappuccino. But before Charlie could say anything, the car swerved hard. "Oh my Gosh," Claire exclaimed. "That car about to burst on fire!"
There was smoldering wreckage strewn all across the highway, and two cars grotesquely twisted together on the opposite shoulder. The air smelled like burned rubber and gasoline.
Before Charlie could tell her that she shouldn't do something stupid, Claire jumped dramatically from the car. If Bob had decided to speak, Charlie knew he would've been swearing. Charlie was swearing, and she usually hated to do that. She also had a really irrational need for a cigarette, which she didn't smoke. Charlie, because she wasn't absolutely crazy, waited for Bob to stop the car before she ran outside, glad for her practical shoes.
"Claire," she shouted, "What are you doing?"
"I've got to help these people," Claire yelled back. Charlie was very vividly reminded of Peter, and also really annoyed. Claire was running towards the wreckage, yelling that she was going to help. Two other cars had pulled over to the side of the road, presumably to help. It was like a do-gooders pileup or something equally as ridiculous. Charlie was quite grateful that there were no news trucks around.
Claire grabbed one edge of the car and was pulling, covering herself in soot. There was another man next to her, and he was phasing through the car. Charlie wasn't sure whether to curse or cry. A little boy was standing by their beat-up car, cheering.
And then there was a yellow Versa, and Ando Masahashi was inside of it. Then, both passengers of the car were outside of it, and both she and Claire and the phaser were a good 30 feet away from the now-flaming fireball. Hiro.
The formerly-missing Hiro Nakamura was standing in front of her, grinning in his usual glasses. "Charlie," he cried, running over to hug her.
"Hiro," she cried, "Where have you been? You have to call your father and at least tell him you're okay!"
"I don't need to," he smiled, "When I can let you tell him that I am doing well and continuing my mission." He handed her a comic book, which she did not look at. Charlie couldn't look at it, because she needed to look out for Claire. And she wasn't the type to start hyperventilating.
She looked hard at Hiro, memorizing for a few long seconds. "Claire," she yelled, "Get back into the car, please." She waited until Claire was pulled back into the Benz with Bob, refusing to let go of Hiro's hand. "Hiro," she murmured, "I can't just let you continue on with this mission." He started to violently shake his head. "Please don't make me shoot you," she muttered, steadfastly refusing to cry and ignoring the tears in his eyes.
"I have to complete my mission," Hiro stated, his voice full of solemnity. "Goodbye, Charlie." She began to pull the tranq gun from her purse, but he had teleported into the car by the time she had it cocked.
Charlie left a voicemail with the Odessa branch, gave the full description of all involved; and left a short message at the Nakamura offices while she was walking back to the waiting car. "Who was that, Charlie?" Claire was pouting.
"You try to pull a stunt like that again," Charlie grumbled, "And I'll handcuff you to this car. And that was Hiro, an old friend; he's been in love with me since he was 8. He's in some trouble."
-
"I knew about him," Claire said, "Of course, from the annual telecasts and all that. They were a big deal, and I always wondered why Mom never wanted me to watch them, but I just got used to hanging with friends and watching it with them." She picked at the cuff of her shirt. "I really liked one from 97, and I always wished that I had a Dad that wanted me as much as he wanted his daughter. I didn't think it would be him, though. I don't think I even hoped."
Claire was biting her lip too viciously, so Charlie handed her an extra chapstick. "Thanks," Claire smiled, "This whole thing is just so weird, you know? I just wanted to know my family and now there's all of this and everything."
"Yes," Charlie smiled, "But everyone's so glad that you decided to look. We've been searching for you non-stop since the fire, you know."
"I know," Claire said. "It's kind of overwhelming when I think about it too much. I mean, I'm Claire Petrelli, and my father is the father that makes the speech trying to get me back every year." She fiddled with the top of her soda can until it broke, jaggedly. "Mom always just used to say that Dad was worthless, and that he ran out on us. One time, she said that he was a clown in a traveling circus, and I believed her for so long, I used to always want to go to the stupid circus to see if he was there."
"Well," Charlie tried to comfort, "He's in New York City with everybody else."
"Yeah," Claire smiled. "It makes running away completely worth it. I'm glad that I'm not Ella Brown any more."
Claire fiddled with her seatbelt, and the pull-down tray, and the little plastic window shade. Charlie decided to let the conversation lull, Claire could use some sleep.
-
Bob was smiling, and she knew what he was thinking. Charlie had always been able to figure what he was thinking, ever since she was 9.
Right now, if Bob were talking, he'd be saying how happy he was to have finally found Claire.
And Charlie would be agreeing, not talking about her worry for Hiro, not talking about her apprehension for Claire's arrival, not talking about the gnawing worry in her gut that something would go terribly and irreparably wrong. She wouldn't be spending too much time debating whether or not to call Peter, or staring at the sleeping girl, or worrying about the pressure.
Her partner squeezed her hand and she felt better. He placed a warm hand on the top of her head, pulled her over to his chest. His breath was comforting against her ear.
"Things will be all right, love," he whispered, "I promise." Her head was fuzzy, so she wasn't sure if he used English or not, but she was grateful nonetheless.
"My brain is whirring too fast," Charlie admitted. Her partner nodded; she knew what that meant, too.
-
Claire was nervously wringing her hands all through the ride from the airport. Halfway through, she begged, "Can we go to your apartment first? So I can get a shower and change out of these clothes and stuff? I don't want to look like this meeting my father for the first time..."
"Of course, Claire," Charlie agreed, but Claire wasn't finished talking.
"Did you ever wake up one morning and realize you weren't like everybody else? Like you were different?" Claire was babbling. "Like there was just some kind of little change, like clicking into place and suddenly everything was the opposite of what it was supposed to be but it still made some kind of sick, twisted sense?"
Oh, Charlie knew that. Damn. "Not right now," she whispered, gesturing her head towards the driver. "Not in the car."
Claire's eyes were very, very wide. "Okay," she whispered.
-
Claire looked very out-of-place in Charlie's posh apartment. "So can we talk now?" She plopped herself down on Charlie's favorite plush chair.
Charlie sat down across from her and nodded. "So I have this ability," Claire said, "And you have to promise that you won't scream or anything when I show you." Charlie nodded, and then Claire reached over and grabbed the letter-opener from the coffee-table and sliced downwards from elbow to wrist. There was a bright red line of blood, blood like bleeding and harm and she'd hit an artery because there was some gushing and oh.
The flesh of Claire's arm was knitting itself back together, perfectly, as though there had never been an injury. "I can't get hurt," Claire said. "No matter what, I just heal myself back to perfect."
Well, it was definitely an interesting development.
-
She called Angela first, while Claire was in the shower. "Claire has manifested," she babbled, "Rapid cell regeneration, from the looks of it. She showed me."
"Well," Angela said, "That helps explain the fire much more satisfactorily. You'll have her here within the next few hours?"
"Two, at the most," Charlie responded.
And before she could call Peter with the news, Claire was out of the shower, looking bashful. "Did I leave my bag out here?"
"Here, Honey," Charlie smiled, "Why don't you raid my wardrobe to see if there's anything you want."
Claire took a full 40 minutes to settle on one of Charlie's black tank-tops with a loosely knitted blue sweater and Claire's favorite pair of dark jeans. "It's colder here than I thought it would be," Claire blushed. "Thanks for letting me use your clothes."
"Of course," Charlie smiled. "Just remember me when you're famous." She leaned over to help Claire style her hair.
"I just don't know what to do with it now that it's short," Claire confessed. "I'm just so used to having it long, but now it's not and I'm all bloated with PMS and I've got this zit on the side of my neck and what are they going to say when they see me?"
Charlie pulled the other girl into a tight hug, "They're going to say that you look beautiful, because you do."
"I've just been waiting for this for so long," Claire cried. "And now I'm messing up my eyeliner!"
-
Peter met Claire first, ambushing them at the door. He yelled, "Claire!" And before either of them could move to do anything otherwise, Peter had Claire in an overwhelming bear hug. "Welcome back to the family! I'm your Uncle Peter! I love you already! We're going to be best friends!" Claire looked a bit shocked, but Peter's entire face was his smile. "And if you don't smile in the next 2 seconds, I'll have to give you an introductory tickle!"
When Claire smiled, Peter acted affronted. "Well, it looks like now I just have to tickle Charlie instead!"
"I won't take your sloppy seconds," Charlie joked, affectionately punching his arms. They were stuck in the foyer, and Angela was waiting inside.
"And I wouldn't give my oldest friend that isn't a blood relative anything but my neat seconds," Peter grinned. "Oh, Claire," he grabbed her hand, tightly. "Your grandmother is in there waiting. She looks stern and stuff, and she isn't the most cuddly person ever, but I bet you could ask her for cookies and she'd give them to you. She may not look very happy, but that's how she always looks; she's actually beside herself she's so glad to have you here, so don't feel too intimidated."
Peter linked arms with Claire and marched them inside. "I'll be with you the whole time," he whispered conspiratorially. Claire was smiling and Peter was smiling and Angela was smiling coming to meet them, and it was such a perfect family moment.
Charlie quietly excused herself to the couch to watch.
-
Nathan walked slowly down the stairs, and everything changed.
Charlie had known Nathan since she was 7 years old, and she could technically remember every physical expression that he'd ever made, so she was positive that he'd never looked the same as he did at that exact moment.
His eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he was striding quickly down to meet her, arms outstretched and a sad little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
And when the Senator himself reached out to greet his long-lost daughter, smiling, the moment was just so completely perfect.
"Oh, Claire," he whispered, "Welcome home."
Perfect.
-
Hours after the party had disbanded, Charlie was in the study with Arthur and Angela Petrelli, following her usual routine.
"Debrief, please," Angela said. Bob squeezed her hand, then started the tape recorder.
"Recording log for the date of October 24 2006," Charlie began, as the room emptied. "Initial contact was at 10:26:43..."
-
5. I think everything counts a little more than we think.
-
"Charlie," Hiro gasped, "You're alive!"
"Run," she pleaded, "Please just run away."
-
She woke from a drugged sleep on the street of a deserted city.
The sky was unaccountably wide above her, and the rest of the land was a twisted wreck.
Charlie knew what was going on.
She began to search for a sharp piece of metal, probably to slit her wrists with.
-
She saw Ando, from the Diner.
"Charlie," he said. "Oh I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, angry at her short hair. "What's this about?"
"Hiro," he said.
-
Charlie walked out the door one day, and the door had previously been invisible.
"I have a mission for you," The man said, "Whether you want to accept it or not."
She looked at her fingernails, which were unaccountably flawless. "I don't think I will accept it."
-
"Your purpose," a man said, "Is to find my son."
"I don't think I know your son," Charlie said.
"Oh, you do," the man said, "You would still be dead if you didn't."
-
Charlie counted all of the seconds that she was alone in the white room, because she couldn't not count the seconds.
There were 432657 of them, ticking away in the back of her brain.
432658.
432659.
-
A boy asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Dead," she said.
"Impossible," he scoffed, "I fixed that."
"So I feel like a zombie," Charlie decided.
-
She was in a room, a white room, plain, with no visible doors.
Charlie had no visitors.
She also had nobody to talk to, nothing to read and nothing but her breathing to listen to.
Whenever she woke up, there was food in a tray in the center of the room. She was probably being drugged.
-
Charlie's heart was beating, and she was not inside of the diner. She was inside a room, a plain room, and it wasn't the diner, and it didn't feel like a bad dream. There were two men standing above her, and they were above her because she was strapped to what felt like an operating table.
She cried, "What's happening?"
The older, Japanese man said, "Welcome back to life."
-
And suddenly, Charlie was breathing.
-