FIC: Black White Gray
Title: Black White Gray
Characters/Pairings: The Haitian
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 385
Spoiler alert: None
Prompt: "Colors" for heroes_contest
What comes first is something he does without even meaning to. Just as the poles of a magnet repel each other without effort, he subconsciously repels the powers of others - blacking them out, cancelling them. It is a challenge to perfect the way his ability works - to be able to suppress his own power, or to focus it when necessary - but it's still something that comes as easily to him as breathing.
It's almost funny, sometimes, how they react when they realize they're powerless when he's around. A hand extended without effect, a head tilted to no avail. The Haitian has become finely tuned to these physical cues, each one just an empty gesture because he makes it so.
The next part is the hard part. Not because it's a particularly difficult task, no - it's become second-nature to him. It's hard because, if he watches their faces, he'll see their eyes register fear first, a fear of the most primal variety, a fear of the unknown. A fear which gives way to nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. That's what frightens him most, his ability to obliterate everything that makes others human. He can steal away their memories, their thoughts, their identities, and all he leaves behind is white noise filling the void where something else used to be.
That's why he averts his eyes, or sneaks up from behind if he can. He can't stand the nothingness, the blankness, the unending white landscape that used to be someone to somebody else.
And so, by default, he's become the keeper of memories. A human vault containing the thoughts most precious to others. He remembers what were once important to others - people they used to care about, places they used to visit, things that used to mean something. He doesn't mean to hold on, but he's never able to forget. He can't.
He knows what fathers can do to their daughters without compunction. He knows how husbands hurt their wives and then make them forget that the harm ever happened. He knows what lies in the shadowy corners of the mind, whether it's the mind of a teenage boy, a Ukrainian agent, the inhabitants of a Haitian village. His own partner.
He's the only one who knows their true colors, and they're all in shades of gray.
Characters/Pairings: The Haitian
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 385
Spoiler alert: None
Prompt: "Colors" for heroes_contest
What comes first is something he does without even meaning to. Just as the poles of a magnet repel each other without effort, he subconsciously repels the powers of others - blacking them out, cancelling them. It is a challenge to perfect the way his ability works - to be able to suppress his own power, or to focus it when necessary - but it's still something that comes as easily to him as breathing.
It's almost funny, sometimes, how they react when they realize they're powerless when he's around. A hand extended without effect, a head tilted to no avail. The Haitian has become finely tuned to these physical cues, each one just an empty gesture because he makes it so.
The next part is the hard part. Not because it's a particularly difficult task, no - it's become second-nature to him. It's hard because, if he watches their faces, he'll see their eyes register fear first, a fear of the most primal variety, a fear of the unknown. A fear which gives way to nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. That's what frightens him most, his ability to obliterate everything that makes others human. He can steal away their memories, their thoughts, their identities, and all he leaves behind is white noise filling the void where something else used to be.
That's why he averts his eyes, or sneaks up from behind if he can. He can't stand the nothingness, the blankness, the unending white landscape that used to be someone to somebody else.
And so, by default, he's become the keeper of memories. A human vault containing the thoughts most precious to others. He remembers what were once important to others - people they used to care about, places they used to visit, things that used to mean something. He doesn't mean to hold on, but he's never able to forget. He can't.
He knows what fathers can do to their daughters without compunction. He knows how husbands hurt their wives and then make them forget that the harm ever happened. He knows what lies in the shadowy corners of the mind, whether it's the mind of a teenage boy, a Ukrainian agent, the inhabitants of a Haitian village. His own partner.
He's the only one who knows their true colors, and they're all in shades of gray.