just_1_word prompt twenty eight [obsession]
Claire should be a basket-case.
It was something that she had said to her father already, to the both of them. it was true though; there was no way that she should be completely calm at the moment or be able to even pretend that she was. In a span of a few days, her life had been turned upside down and then spun about. She had gone from helping a hate enemy, to going on the run with a man who gave her life but never shared his, to digging up old skeletons that twisted karma out of favor with her birth family to watching the fire lick over the body of a man who told her that she was meant to be with him.
She could scarcely believe that it was real, that what she was watching was true; that Sylar was dead and they were now laying him to rest. She half wondered if he were feeling the flames elsewhere and there was a part of her that hoped that he did.
Still, it didn't feel real. She didn't feel a sense of relief or pleasure at watching him burn. She had told him that she would find a way to kill him and here, they had succeeded, but she didn't feel the rush of victory. She felt strangely empty as she hugged herself, glancing over the faces that surrounded the bonfire. Faces of people that she knew and people that she didn't, all of them united by one goal of destroying a man who had affected them all in different ways but also in the goal of protecting themselves. She wondered what they would do now, now that the threats were dying and the odds didn't seem so extraordinarily against them.
Were they relieved? Did they feel smug and satisfied? Did they feel like they had won?
Strangely enough, no one looked pleased but instead they all had a somber look on their faces. Were they all scared of what was coming next?
After Sylar had shown up at her house to take her ability from him, she had let him consume her life. She had wanted so badly to prove that she wasn't the victim, that she was grown up, and so she had tried to do a job that was beyond her. She tried to help others and she focused on stopping him. She told herself that she was trying to do good, to protect others in where she ahd failed in protecting herself but she knew what it was. It was obsessive revenge that had driven her to this point, to the point of being strangely numb even in the face of watching a body burn.
Shouldn't she be horrified? Even if it was Sylar's body being consumed by flame?
Claire Bennet didn't want to admit it but she was scared. Going after Sylar, working against him, it had given her purpose. Being different and not feeling pain hadn't mattered as much as getting back at him. Now what was she supposed to do with all that? What was she supposed to do without that focus? And she hated herself; she hated the flash of anger that was directed at him for daring to die. For succeeding where she couldn't yet again. She quickly stole a peek at Peter and the rest of her family, hoping that they didn't know.
As she leaned against her father when he moved to lead her away from the scene, she closed her eyes and leaned against him. He told her that it was over and she tried to smile a little bit but she couldn't tell him the truth. Even if Sylar was gone, she didn't think it would ever be over.
It was something that she had said to her father already, to the both of them. it was true though; there was no way that she should be completely calm at the moment or be able to even pretend that she was. In a span of a few days, her life had been turned upside down and then spun about. She had gone from helping a hate enemy, to going on the run with a man who gave her life but never shared his, to digging up old skeletons that twisted karma out of favor with her birth family to watching the fire lick over the body of a man who told her that she was meant to be with him.
She could scarcely believe that it was real, that what she was watching was true; that Sylar was dead and they were now laying him to rest. She half wondered if he were feeling the flames elsewhere and there was a part of her that hoped that he did.
Still, it didn't feel real. She didn't feel a sense of relief or pleasure at watching him burn. She had told him that she would find a way to kill him and here, they had succeeded, but she didn't feel the rush of victory. She felt strangely empty as she hugged herself, glancing over the faces that surrounded the bonfire. Faces of people that she knew and people that she didn't, all of them united by one goal of destroying a man who had affected them all in different ways but also in the goal of protecting themselves. She wondered what they would do now, now that the threats were dying and the odds didn't seem so extraordinarily against them.
Were they relieved? Did they feel smug and satisfied? Did they feel like they had won?
Strangely enough, no one looked pleased but instead they all had a somber look on their faces. Were they all scared of what was coming next?
After Sylar had shown up at her house to take her ability from him, she had let him consume her life. She had wanted so badly to prove that she wasn't the victim, that she was grown up, and so she had tried to do a job that was beyond her. She tried to help others and she focused on stopping him. She told herself that she was trying to do good, to protect others in where she ahd failed in protecting herself but she knew what it was. It was obsessive revenge that had driven her to this point, to the point of being strangely numb even in the face of watching a body burn.
Shouldn't she be horrified? Even if it was Sylar's body being consumed by flame?
Claire Bennet didn't want to admit it but she was scared. Going after Sylar, working against him, it had given her purpose. Being different and not feeling pain hadn't mattered as much as getting back at him. Now what was she supposed to do with all that? What was she supposed to do without that focus? And she hated herself; she hated the flash of anger that was directed at him for daring to die. For succeeding where she couldn't yet again. She quickly stole a peek at Peter and the rest of her family, hoping that they didn't know.
As she leaned against her father when he moved to lead her away from the scene, she closed her eyes and leaned against him. He told her that it was over and she tried to smile a little bit but she couldn't tell him the truth. Even if Sylar was gone, she didn't think it would ever be over.