just_1_word prompt 40.2 [recover]
Claire wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Matt Parkman had left her mind and took the picturesque park with him to leave her in darkness. It could have been days or it could have been just mere minutes. Either way she knew she was in trouble. She had no way of knowing how close Sylar was to finding her or if he would even beat her father there.
She had no doubt Noah Bennet was on his way and he most likely had a little army in tow. He wouldn’t see forcing her home as a bad thing. That was if she made it out of this whole mess; the mess being the fact that she was dying without the use of her ability to save her.
There she was, trapped in the hospital bed that was meant to aid in saving her life, surrounded by machines that were supposed to keep her alive. She was familiar with the steady whoosh of air coming from the machine feeding her oxygen, the constant dripping coming from her IV that was feeding her and keeping her hydrated but she was worried about the other machine she could barely hear. It was there, weak and steady; the monitor that kept track of her blood pressure and her heart rate, both of which seemed low. Or at least she was going to assume her blood pressure was low considering how slow her heart sounded even to her own ears.
She just wished she had the energy to open her eyes but she didn’t. She was fading fast and she knew it.
The door opened a moment later, loud over the hum of the machines, and two nurses let themselves into the room. One moved over to the heart rate monitor without pausing, reaching up to push a few strands of her curly hair out of the way before planting her hands on either side of the machine as she looked it over. The other simply closed the door behind them, leaning her petite frame against the door as it shut, arms folding under her breast as she watched the other nurse.
Maybe this was some kind of training session.
"I think we got her just in time," the nurse at the monitors murmured, casting a glance over her shoulder at her companion, "but I think Matt was right. She's sick, and she's not going to get any better."
"Lucky thing we can fix that, isn't it?"
Maybe not.
Pushing away from the door, the nurse padded over to the bedside, reaching into the pockets of her scrubs. She fished around in them briefly, coming up with a vial and a syringe, the latter of which she uncapped before filling it with the contents of the tiny bottle. Then she was taking Claire's arm in hers, tips of her nails stroking the inside of her arm rather intimately before pushing the needle into her arm. She turned to the nurse still at the monitors the second the syringe was empty.
"How long?" she asked.
"I don't know. It took a few minutes with you, but you can do more than she can." She drummed her fingers against the side of the monitor. "It might take less time for her -- it might take more."
Claire didn’t really hear the entrance of the two nurses who were presumably there to check up on her. She had gotten used to the dim noises around her, so much so that they often faded in the background for her. This time was no different for her.
Not till she felt something against her arm, the skimming of nails and then the sensation of being poked. Not that she wondered about that. The nurses could have been taking blood or something but they weren’t and that’s what caught her attention even in the darkness. It was the sense of being injected, something that was actually foreign to her.
Whatever they injected her with confused her. At first it was a rush, something that burned along her veins. She wanted to cry out! She wanted whoever it was to stop because the last time she had been injected with anything, it had gone badly for her. But no sound came out of her because the next sensation that rushed over her stole her breath. The burning sensation that felt like it was peeling back her veins was suddenly turning to ice as her entire body tightened.
The beeping from the monitor started to quicken.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know." The nurse at the monitor spun away from it, turning to face Claire on the bed. She looked down at her for a moment and then she was reaching to take the sensors off of her arms. "We didn't exactly have you hooked up to a monitor when we gave you your shot." A beat. "Help me get these off of her. I don't want the rest of the hospital going nuts if she codes."
She flashed her companion a withering look from under her eyebrows, and then her hands were on Claire again, trying to get the sensors off.
When this was done and over, she was definitely going to have to have words with the nurses. After all, she didn’t know that they were possibly trying to help her but she was sure they had screwed up somehow.
Then fear flashed through her, twisting her serene expression without her knowing. All she knew in that moment was the sudden realization that it could be people who worked for her dad. Maybe they had found her and so they were going to kill her once and for all. That or maybe they were giving her something else to keep her quiet so they could take her out of there. Of course that idea was ludicrous considering she was rather quiet already.
But then the iciness was gone, replaced with a sensation of warmth that she knew. It started in the center of her being, pulsating through her as she felt the nurses pulling things off of her but she didn’t care. Most of the damage was inside but already it was fading. On her side, the wound that had caused the whole mess was already knitting completely closed as the skin started to smooth away all signs of a puckered cut that would have made a nasty scar.
Softly and happily she moaned because her ability was back. She was healing!
The sour expression on the one nurse's face shifted suddenly, first registering surprise before shifting into something that could only have been labeled smug. A familiar smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she looked up at the other nurse, who was in the process of checking vitals without the benefit of a monitor, fingers pressed to Claire's neck lightly. "She's healing."
"Good." A pause as she dropped her fingers away from Claire's neck, and then, "Get her up. I'm gonna go grab a gurney."
As the damage within the petite blonde continued to heal, she felt stronger and that also meant she felt a bit clearer as well. She was more aware of things around her as she heard the murmurs of the nurses. One sounded awfully pleased she was healing and the other was getting a gurney. Color her confused.
Groaning again, her long eyelashes started to flutter as the sickly paleness started to fade. Slowly her color was coming back as she struggled to open her eyes. When she did, everything was blurry and unfocused as her eyes tried to get used to the sudden flash of light. Turning her head sharply, which made it ache, she groaned again. “Shit.”
Then she dared a little peek, focusing on the nurse beside her. “W-who are you?”
She put her hands to Claire's shoulder, one on the front, the other slipping under her to her back, and tried to hoist her into a sitting position. Which, perhaps much to Claire's surprise didn't take much doing -- it almost seemed like the woman had super strength, somehow. And when she spoke next, her tone no longer female but low, near threatening, and decidedly familiar, it probably all made sense. "Take a wild guess."
The wary expression faded instantly at the nurse’s words. She had been ready to fight if there was need to because she wouldn’t allow herself to be taken out of there without one. Not by anyone who wasn’t Sylar or even Peter. But she didn’t have to worry about that anymore and she nearly started to cry with relief even as she smiled brilliantly at him. “Sylar.” The relief at seeing him there was staggering as she grabbed his arm, needing to know he was really there and it wasn’t just a horrible trick.
Sylar grinned wolfishly, the expression strange on a stranger's face, and nodded. "Smart girl." A beat, and then, "We need to get you out of here. Your father's on his way."
She couldn’t help the weak laugh at the expression on his/her face. “It’s a shame you’re a girl right now because I could kiss you.” Then all humor was gone as she frowned at him but she wasn’t surprised. “I figured he would be.” She started to swing her legs off of the bed, feeling stronger more and more with each moment. “How are we going to get me out of here though? They’re bound to notice that I’m up and moving around.”
"Peter went to go get a gurney and a body bag." She offered Claire a wry smile. "We thought we could pretend you were dead. And it would keep Bennet from noticing who we were carting out of here."
"Peter is here?" She didn't hide the little bit of surprise even if it made sense for the two men to work together to save her. "But that's smart." She nodded her head, shifting her weight a little as she reached back to try and hold her gown closed. "Then we should be able to get out the back way by the morgue, right?"
"The other nurse," she answered, popping one shoulder in a shrug. "And that's the plan."
As if on cue, the door opened again, and the other nurse -- the one that had been toying with her curls when they'd entered -- leaned into the room, taking stock of the situation. She frowned for a moment, and then she was ducking back out, door kept propped with her foot so that she could force the gurney into the room. "We've gotta go. I saw Bennet downstairs in the lobby talking to one of the attendings."
Claire couldn’t help but look a little pleased in that moment but she was proud of Sylar though she wouldn’t say it out loud. He actually was working with Peter and they had shown up with a plan instead of Sylar just storming in, using his powers, to get her back.
She was seriously thinking about giving him a little kiss even in female form but she stopped herself from leaning forward as the other nurse stepped into the room. When she realized it was Peter, she almost smiled but then she was listening with a frown. “Crap.”
Without being told what to do, she hurried over towards Peter with Sylar’s help. She was getting stronger, she was nearly perfect but everything still felt weird. She had been immobile for days after all.
Hurriedly, Peter unzipped the dark bag he'd brought in with the the gurney, then he -- she -- was leaning forward to push down the arm on one side of the mobile bed. "This is going to be kind of -- weird, I guess," she told her, moving to help Sylar get her onto the gurney. "Just pretend your in a sleeping bag or something."
“It’s okay.” Claire reassured Peter as she touched his arm, letting him know she would be fine. She was also thanking him silently in that moment before she climbed up onto the gurney. It was a bit weird to be crawling into a body bag and she did her best to not think about the dead bodies that had probably been in there before her but she couldn’t stop the shiver as she started to lie down. “Just get me out of here as well as you can, okay?”
Sylar reached down to brush her fingers over her cheek lightly, pulling her hand away only when she needed to, so that Peter could finish zipping up the bag. She lifted the arm back up, snapping it into place, and then she was nodding towards the door. "Let's go."
"Yeah," Peter answered, and then they were in motion, wheeling the gurney out of the room and down the hallway, trying to look as though they belonged there and not like they were running for the hills.
Claire forced a brave smile for Sylar as he touched her cheek and she felt her throat close a little as he had to pull back so Peter could zip the bag closed. She shuddered again before mentally cursing herself, trying to remember that she needed to stay perfectly still and quiet. She was supposed to be dead after all.
Of course she had to really not think about the dead bodies that occupied the bag before or else she would freak. So as they wheeled her down the hall, she kept chanting her own little mantra inside of her head.
Don’t let me freak out. Don’t let me freak out.
They'd gotten about twenty feet down the hallway when a voice stopped them -- Bennet's voice, to be exact. "Excuse me, Miss." The gurney slowed to a halt. "I don't suppose you could tell me where room 201 is?"
Sylar, now -- or rather the nurse whose face he was wearing. "Down that way." There was a pause and presumably a gesture. "Last door on the end on the left."
Bennet's armored smile was near-audible. "Thank you."
"Oh, anytime, sweetheart."
Silence as the man in the horn-rimmed glasses marched away, and then Peter was hissing, "Do you have to screw with him every time you see him?"
"Always." Another pause, and then, "We need to go. Now. It's not going to take him long to do the math." Peter gave no reply, but suddenly the gurney was moving again, rocketing down the hallway like a bat out of hell. They may have wanted to avoid any sort of hurry before, but now that they'd gotten past Bennet, it seemed both Claire's uncle and lover had revised their opinions significantly.
Claire recognized her father’s voice almost instantly, which wasn’t surprising considering she had heard it many times through her years. Her heart stopped and she was sure they would find a dead body in the bag because she damn near had a heart attack she was sure. Tense and frozen, she listened as her dad asked where her room was and she heard Sylar’s response.
She was nearly shaking as they started to fly down the hall after sending Bennet away from them. It was a fight to stay in the bag because all she wanted to do was jump out and run as fast as she could. She had to trust Peter and Sylar though, she had to trust they would get her out of there.
Sylar wouldn’t allow anything else to happen.
"Elevator?" Peter asked, half-breathless as they approached it.
"Too slow. He'll be at her room and back and halfway down the stairs before we even get settled."
The empath was quick to point out, "We'll never get the gurney down the stairs, fast enough. That'll take even longer."
"We don't need to," Sylar muttered in response, and then she was shoving Peter out of the way. Hands on the mobile bed, she shifted the direction they were headed in sharply, making for the stairs, Peter trailing behind him, frowning. A subtle jerk of her head so that she could open the door to the stairwell without having to wait for her fellow nurse to do it, and then she was pushing onto the landing. The door fell closed behind them loudly.
"Get out," she hissed at Claire, moving to unzip the bag.
As soon as the bag was unzipped, she was crawling out of it with a little shudder. “I’m going to need a hot bath after this. No, scalding.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she looked over at them, keeping her voice low even if they were in the stairwell. “You guys didn’t happen to grab scrubs for me, did you?”
Because the hospital gown, especially with the open back, was going to be a big giveaway that she shouldn’t be walking out of the hospital.
"I didn't think about it," Peter answered, flashing Sylar a frown. "I thought you were going to be in the bag the entire time."
"If we still go out the morgue door, it won't matter." Grabbing Claire's wrist less than kindly -- though not intentionally so -- she proceeded to slash the hospital band in two, letting it fall to the ground. Then she was pulling away, making down the stairs in a half-run. "Come on."
Claire didn’t get a chance to argue with Sylar as he cut the band from her wrist and then started to drag her along behind him. She glanced back at Peter to make sure he was following as they raced down the stairs, having to move a little quicker than the two of them because she had shorter legs.
As they ran, she prayed they would all make it out.
Peter huffed out a sigh, but joined the race down the stairs a second later, and within seconds they were on the ground floor. Sylar made another gesture, pulling this door open just as easily as the last one, and then she was dragging Claire out of the stairwell and down the hallway. She stopped once they reached an intersection, casting a glance back at Peter.
"Which way?"
She cast a glance down one hallway and then the other, before starting down one of them as leader now. "This way."
Claire remained silent because maybe she had been in the hospital the longest but she had been unconscious the entire time, and so she didn’t know her way around at all. She paused when Sylar did, glancing this way and that before Peter told them the direction they needed to head in.
“Do you have a car parked somewhere nearby?” She figured they did but she was going to ask just in case because one never knew with these two.
"Yeah," Peter affirmed, casting a glance over her shoulder at her. "Sylar hid it behind one of the dumpsters out back." Not the most glamorous place for their getaway car, but it had seemed the safest at the time.
"Okay." Claire looked relieved as she nodded her head, squeezing Sylar's hand gently. "Lead the way then."
Sylar squeezed back, following Peter out of the building. The paused for a moment outside, both men masquerading as women trying to get their bearings, and then they were headed in the direction of the car. And without incident, they found it a few moments later, exactly where Peter had suggested it would be.
Sylar went for the driver's side automatically, body rebelling against his disguise, features shifting back into his own as he climbed into the car. Peter moved for the back seat, doing the same.
Claire hoped they wouldn’t call too much attention to themselves as she stood between them, looking around. Luckily she didn’t see anyone, or at least there was no one who was paying attention to two nurses and a young girl in a hospital gown. As they ran, she held the back of her gown closed while shivering as she could feel the cool night air teasing her skin.
When they found the car, she slid into the passenger seat while making sure she was covered. “Go.” She murmured to Sylar, watching the hospital apprehensively.
He held up two fingers, jabbing them towards the empty ignition and then turning, and the car sprung to life without its keys. Then, as Claire had suggested, he was wheeling away from the hospital without concern for who saw them. They'd gotten out, now they needed to get away; to hell with anything else.
As they escaped the hospital, Claire slouched in the front seat with a sigh. She wasn't sure she was going to breathe easily yet, not till they were further away but this was a good start. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head to look at Sylar and then back to Peter. "Thank you," she murmured before looking at her lover again. "For finding me and getting my ability back."
"You're welcome," Peter answered, offering her a crooked smile. Sylar, on the other hand, said nothing, instead reaching to rest a hand on her thigh, lightly.
Reaching down, she curled her hand over Sylar's as he let his rest on her thigh. Looking out the window, she shifted her weight and then wrinkled her nose as the seat didn't feel exactly great on her bare skin. "I take it we have a place to hide? Somewhere I can get a change of clothes and a bath? Or at least a shower?" If they were in a big hurry.
"There's a motel twenty miles from here," Sylar answered. "We can go there, change, and leave." He didn't want to stay that close to the hospital for too long, just in case Bennet thought to look for them close by.
"Thank God, because I don't want to think about what was in the body bag before me." Another little shudder as she tightened her fingers around Sylar's hand.
"Sorry," Peter mumbled, "we just figured it'd be the easiest way to get you out of there. We kinda had to think on the fly."
"Parkman told us your father was on his way," the killer explained, turning his hand under Claire's to lace their fingers together, awkwardly. "We didn't have time for a better plan."
“It’s okay, it was a good idea. Just creepy.” She smiled at Peter but then the smile died as she looked over at Sylar sharply. “You talked to Parkman? Where? Wait, he was actually here here?” She motioned back at the hospital which was behind them.
“He was in my head.”
Sylar didn't bother to answer the question, instead shooting Claire a pointed look. "What did he do to you?"
Now she looked wary again. "He posed as my dad first. I think he was trying to convince me that I should go home, that basically I should leave you." She didn't need to tell him all of what Matt had said. "I convinced him I wasn't going anywhere though. At least that I wasn't going back to my dad."
He looked back towards the road, something undefinable but decidedly sour written on his face. "Right."
"Sylar." She murmured his name, forgetting about Peter as she focused solely on the man beside her. "What is it?"
"Just thinking that I should have killed Parkman when we ran into him," he answered, offering her a small, sick smile.
"He left me alone, Sylar. He could have stayed there and forced me to do anything but he didn't." She kept her voice soft. "I think he was put up to it by my dad."
"That's sort of what it sounded like to me," Peter put in, leaning in between the seats so that he could be included in the conversation. "I mean, he did tell us which room Claire was in. If he really wanted to, he could've convinced us that she wasn't there or, like, I dunno. Totally mindwiped us or something."
Sylar rolled his eyes. "Parkman wouldn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. He couldn't do it."
“We don’t know that.” Claire looked over at Sylar. “He’s gotten rather strong from the first time I’ve met him. But he ... he told you what room I was in?” She looked surprised as she glanced back at Peter. Sure, Matt hadn’t seemed pleased with the idea that she wanted to stay with Sylar but she wouldn’t have guessed he would actually hand over the information of where she was.
"And that dad was on his way," the killer replied.
"Huh." Claire murmured, frowning a little bit as she looked at them both. "Well, that's ... interesting." She had to wonder what Matt was going to say to her dad and she could only hope he would give the message she had told him. That she wasn't coming back.
"He kinda seemed like he just wanted to get out of the middle of all this." Peter knew the feeling, honestly, but he was also pretty sure that he'd screwed himself in helping Sylar rescue Claire. Bennet would consider him just as much the bad guy now as he did Sylar; he'd picked his side without meaning to.
Now it was her turn to sigh a little as she looked at her uncle, something soft and sad in her eyes. "I think all of us wish we could get out of the middle of this." Then she slid a sideways glance to the driver of the vehicle. "Most of us anways." She said it with a little smile as though she were teasing.
"I'm not most people," Sylar answered automatically, offering her a sideways smile.
"Thank God." She murmured, almost fondly. Yes, she had just admitted out loud that she was glad he wasn't most people.
Peter arched his eyebrows then lowered them, frowning like a kid who had caught his parents flirting and didn't approve, and leaned back in his seat. Sylar, if anything, only looked more smug for a moment, squeezing Claire's hand lightly, before, "We'll be there soon."
No need to grief Peter too much -- he'd done him a favor, helping with Claire, after all.
Claire smirked a little at Sylar’s smug reaction and then she caught the look on Peter’s face which only made her laugh. She leaned her head against the back of the seat, sighing softly as she was looking forward to getting out of her hospital gown. But then where would they head next?
“How long are you running with us?” She peeked over at Peter again.
"I think you guys are sort of stuck with me for awhile," he answered, shrugging a bit. "I mean, I kinda just served Bennet a big dose of Screw You."
"It would probably be better for us to stay near each other," she admitted, glancing over at Sylar to see his reaction.
Sylar didn't seem in the least surprised, even if he couldn't say he was entirely happy. "Claire's right."
"But, as much as I love you, you get your own hotel rooms." Claire gave Peter a pointed look even as she blushed ever so slightly.
"Yeah," Peter agreed, hastily. "I mean, as much as I'm stuck with you guys, I don't really want to -- you know."
Half-tempted to finish Peter's sentence for him, Sylar cast him a glance in the rear-view mirror. Thankfully, however, he seemed to think better of saying anything, instead settling on a small, knowing smile. Peter's reflection made a face and then looked away.
"Yeah." Claire nodded before seeming to catch the look that passed between the two men. Clearing her throat, she squirmed a little bit as she was almost uncomfortable. "Are we almost at the hotel?" She looked at Sylar before glancing out the window once more. She really wanted to get out of the hospital gown and into some fresh clothes.
Sylar hummed in response, lapsing into silence after that, and just a few moments later, they were pulling into the parking lot of the motel he'd mentioned. Still wordless, he made another twisting hand gesture, letting the car turn off, and then he was getting out, heading for the main building. And minutes later, he returned with a key, leaning into the car to offer it to Claire. "Make it quick. We'll wait here."
Claire slipped out of the seat when Sylar returned with the key, waiting for Peter or someone to hand her a small bag that would have something for her to change into. It was kind of funny too because she walked away backwards as she headed towards the hotel room. Of course she had to twist a little bit to open the door but it was clear she was trying not to flash them her backside. Or mainly, she was trying not to flash Peter.
Peter seemed to think the same thing, and he looked away as he passed her the bag that had been sitting on the floor next to him for the duration of the ride.
As soon as she had the door unlocked, she flashed a smile at them but it was gone as soon as she closed the door. Looking over the hotel room, she sighed because she knew didn’t have a lot of time to get cleaned up and changed. Then they would be back on the road and back on the run.
She was hoping that Matt would pass on her message to her dad but she wasn’t sure that would stop Noah Bennet. She had no doubt he would be back on their trail in a short amount of time and she felt guilty for it. She had to ask herself how much more could she really put them through before it got to be too much.
[cowritten with
heroslayer <3 Peter is hadtobeahero and is used with love and permission. Use of Noah Bennet isn't aimed at a specific journal]
She had no doubt Noah Bennet was on his way and he most likely had a little army in tow. He wouldn’t see forcing her home as a bad thing. That was if she made it out of this whole mess; the mess being the fact that she was dying without the use of her ability to save her.
There she was, trapped in the hospital bed that was meant to aid in saving her life, surrounded by machines that were supposed to keep her alive. She was familiar with the steady whoosh of air coming from the machine feeding her oxygen, the constant dripping coming from her IV that was feeding her and keeping her hydrated but she was worried about the other machine she could barely hear. It was there, weak and steady; the monitor that kept track of her blood pressure and her heart rate, both of which seemed low. Or at least she was going to assume her blood pressure was low considering how slow her heart sounded even to her own ears.
She just wished she had the energy to open her eyes but she didn’t. She was fading fast and she knew it.
The door opened a moment later, loud over the hum of the machines, and two nurses let themselves into the room. One moved over to the heart rate monitor without pausing, reaching up to push a few strands of her curly hair out of the way before planting her hands on either side of the machine as she looked it over. The other simply closed the door behind them, leaning her petite frame against the door as it shut, arms folding under her breast as she watched the other nurse.
Maybe this was some kind of training session.
"I think we got her just in time," the nurse at the monitors murmured, casting a glance over her shoulder at her companion, "but I think Matt was right. She's sick, and she's not going to get any better."
"Lucky thing we can fix that, isn't it?"
Maybe not.
Pushing away from the door, the nurse padded over to the bedside, reaching into the pockets of her scrubs. She fished around in them briefly, coming up with a vial and a syringe, the latter of which she uncapped before filling it with the contents of the tiny bottle. Then she was taking Claire's arm in hers, tips of her nails stroking the inside of her arm rather intimately before pushing the needle into her arm. She turned to the nurse still at the monitors the second the syringe was empty.
"How long?" she asked.
"I don't know. It took a few minutes with you, but you can do more than she can." She drummed her fingers against the side of the monitor. "It might take less time for her -- it might take more."
Claire didn’t really hear the entrance of the two nurses who were presumably there to check up on her. She had gotten used to the dim noises around her, so much so that they often faded in the background for her. This time was no different for her.
Not till she felt something against her arm, the skimming of nails and then the sensation of being poked. Not that she wondered about that. The nurses could have been taking blood or something but they weren’t and that’s what caught her attention even in the darkness. It was the sense of being injected, something that was actually foreign to her.
Whatever they injected her with confused her. At first it was a rush, something that burned along her veins. She wanted to cry out! She wanted whoever it was to stop because the last time she had been injected with anything, it had gone badly for her. But no sound came out of her because the next sensation that rushed over her stole her breath. The burning sensation that felt like it was peeling back her veins was suddenly turning to ice as her entire body tightened.
The beeping from the monitor started to quicken.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know." The nurse at the monitor spun away from it, turning to face Claire on the bed. She looked down at her for a moment and then she was reaching to take the sensors off of her arms. "We didn't exactly have you hooked up to a monitor when we gave you your shot." A beat. "Help me get these off of her. I don't want the rest of the hospital going nuts if she codes."
She flashed her companion a withering look from under her eyebrows, and then her hands were on Claire again, trying to get the sensors off.
When this was done and over, she was definitely going to have to have words with the nurses. After all, she didn’t know that they were possibly trying to help her but she was sure they had screwed up somehow.
Then fear flashed through her, twisting her serene expression without her knowing. All she knew in that moment was the sudden realization that it could be people who worked for her dad. Maybe they had found her and so they were going to kill her once and for all. That or maybe they were giving her something else to keep her quiet so they could take her out of there. Of course that idea was ludicrous considering she was rather quiet already.
But then the iciness was gone, replaced with a sensation of warmth that she knew. It started in the center of her being, pulsating through her as she felt the nurses pulling things off of her but she didn’t care. Most of the damage was inside but already it was fading. On her side, the wound that had caused the whole mess was already knitting completely closed as the skin started to smooth away all signs of a puckered cut that would have made a nasty scar.
Softly and happily she moaned because her ability was back. She was healing!
The sour expression on the one nurse's face shifted suddenly, first registering surprise before shifting into something that could only have been labeled smug. A familiar smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she looked up at the other nurse, who was in the process of checking vitals without the benefit of a monitor, fingers pressed to Claire's neck lightly. "She's healing."
"Good." A pause as she dropped her fingers away from Claire's neck, and then, "Get her up. I'm gonna go grab a gurney."
As the damage within the petite blonde continued to heal, she felt stronger and that also meant she felt a bit clearer as well. She was more aware of things around her as she heard the murmurs of the nurses. One sounded awfully pleased she was healing and the other was getting a gurney. Color her confused.
Groaning again, her long eyelashes started to flutter as the sickly paleness started to fade. Slowly her color was coming back as she struggled to open her eyes. When she did, everything was blurry and unfocused as her eyes tried to get used to the sudden flash of light. Turning her head sharply, which made it ache, she groaned again. “Shit.”
Then she dared a little peek, focusing on the nurse beside her. “W-who are you?”
She put her hands to Claire's shoulder, one on the front, the other slipping under her to her back, and tried to hoist her into a sitting position. Which, perhaps much to Claire's surprise didn't take much doing -- it almost seemed like the woman had super strength, somehow. And when she spoke next, her tone no longer female but low, near threatening, and decidedly familiar, it probably all made sense. "Take a wild guess."
The wary expression faded instantly at the nurse’s words. She had been ready to fight if there was need to because she wouldn’t allow herself to be taken out of there without one. Not by anyone who wasn’t Sylar or even Peter. But she didn’t have to worry about that anymore and she nearly started to cry with relief even as she smiled brilliantly at him. “Sylar.” The relief at seeing him there was staggering as she grabbed his arm, needing to know he was really there and it wasn’t just a horrible trick.
Sylar grinned wolfishly, the expression strange on a stranger's face, and nodded. "Smart girl." A beat, and then, "We need to get you out of here. Your father's on his way."
She couldn’t help the weak laugh at the expression on his/her face. “It’s a shame you’re a girl right now because I could kiss you.” Then all humor was gone as she frowned at him but she wasn’t surprised. “I figured he would be.” She started to swing her legs off of the bed, feeling stronger more and more with each moment. “How are we going to get me out of here though? They’re bound to notice that I’m up and moving around.”
"Peter went to go get a gurney and a body bag." She offered Claire a wry smile. "We thought we could pretend you were dead. And it would keep Bennet from noticing who we were carting out of here."
"Peter is here?" She didn't hide the little bit of surprise even if it made sense for the two men to work together to save her. "But that's smart." She nodded her head, shifting her weight a little as she reached back to try and hold her gown closed. "Then we should be able to get out the back way by the morgue, right?"
"The other nurse," she answered, popping one shoulder in a shrug. "And that's the plan."
As if on cue, the door opened again, and the other nurse -- the one that had been toying with her curls when they'd entered -- leaned into the room, taking stock of the situation. She frowned for a moment, and then she was ducking back out, door kept propped with her foot so that she could force the gurney into the room. "We've gotta go. I saw Bennet downstairs in the lobby talking to one of the attendings."
Claire couldn’t help but look a little pleased in that moment but she was proud of Sylar though she wouldn’t say it out loud. He actually was working with Peter and they had shown up with a plan instead of Sylar just storming in, using his powers, to get her back.
She was seriously thinking about giving him a little kiss even in female form but she stopped herself from leaning forward as the other nurse stepped into the room. When she realized it was Peter, she almost smiled but then she was listening with a frown. “Crap.”
Without being told what to do, she hurried over towards Peter with Sylar’s help. She was getting stronger, she was nearly perfect but everything still felt weird. She had been immobile for days after all.
Hurriedly, Peter unzipped the dark bag he'd brought in with the the gurney, then he -- she -- was leaning forward to push down the arm on one side of the mobile bed. "This is going to be kind of -- weird, I guess," she told her, moving to help Sylar get her onto the gurney. "Just pretend your in a sleeping bag or something."
“It’s okay.” Claire reassured Peter as she touched his arm, letting him know she would be fine. She was also thanking him silently in that moment before she climbed up onto the gurney. It was a bit weird to be crawling into a body bag and she did her best to not think about the dead bodies that had probably been in there before her but she couldn’t stop the shiver as she started to lie down. “Just get me out of here as well as you can, okay?”
Sylar reached down to brush her fingers over her cheek lightly, pulling her hand away only when she needed to, so that Peter could finish zipping up the bag. She lifted the arm back up, snapping it into place, and then she was nodding towards the door. "Let's go."
"Yeah," Peter answered, and then they were in motion, wheeling the gurney out of the room and down the hallway, trying to look as though they belonged there and not like they were running for the hills.
Claire forced a brave smile for Sylar as he touched her cheek and she felt her throat close a little as he had to pull back so Peter could zip the bag closed. She shuddered again before mentally cursing herself, trying to remember that she needed to stay perfectly still and quiet. She was supposed to be dead after all.
Of course she had to really not think about the dead bodies that occupied the bag before or else she would freak. So as they wheeled her down the hall, she kept chanting her own little mantra inside of her head.
Don’t let me freak out. Don’t let me freak out.
They'd gotten about twenty feet down the hallway when a voice stopped them -- Bennet's voice, to be exact. "Excuse me, Miss." The gurney slowed to a halt. "I don't suppose you could tell me where room 201 is?"
Sylar, now -- or rather the nurse whose face he was wearing. "Down that way." There was a pause and presumably a gesture. "Last door on the end on the left."
Bennet's armored smile was near-audible. "Thank you."
"Oh, anytime, sweetheart."
Silence as the man in the horn-rimmed glasses marched away, and then Peter was hissing, "Do you have to screw with him every time you see him?"
"Always." Another pause, and then, "We need to go. Now. It's not going to take him long to do the math." Peter gave no reply, but suddenly the gurney was moving again, rocketing down the hallway like a bat out of hell. They may have wanted to avoid any sort of hurry before, but now that they'd gotten past Bennet, it seemed both Claire's uncle and lover had revised their opinions significantly.
Claire recognized her father’s voice almost instantly, which wasn’t surprising considering she had heard it many times through her years. Her heart stopped and she was sure they would find a dead body in the bag because she damn near had a heart attack she was sure. Tense and frozen, she listened as her dad asked where her room was and she heard Sylar’s response.
She was nearly shaking as they started to fly down the hall after sending Bennet away from them. It was a fight to stay in the bag because all she wanted to do was jump out and run as fast as she could. She had to trust Peter and Sylar though, she had to trust they would get her out of there.
Sylar wouldn’t allow anything else to happen.
"Elevator?" Peter asked, half-breathless as they approached it.
"Too slow. He'll be at her room and back and halfway down the stairs before we even get settled."
The empath was quick to point out, "We'll never get the gurney down the stairs, fast enough. That'll take even longer."
"We don't need to," Sylar muttered in response, and then she was shoving Peter out of the way. Hands on the mobile bed, she shifted the direction they were headed in sharply, making for the stairs, Peter trailing behind him, frowning. A subtle jerk of her head so that she could open the door to the stairwell without having to wait for her fellow nurse to do it, and then she was pushing onto the landing. The door fell closed behind them loudly.
"Get out," she hissed at Claire, moving to unzip the bag.
As soon as the bag was unzipped, she was crawling out of it with a little shudder. “I’m going to need a hot bath after this. No, scalding.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she looked over at them, keeping her voice low even if they were in the stairwell. “You guys didn’t happen to grab scrubs for me, did you?”
Because the hospital gown, especially with the open back, was going to be a big giveaway that she shouldn’t be walking out of the hospital.
"I didn't think about it," Peter answered, flashing Sylar a frown. "I thought you were going to be in the bag the entire time."
"If we still go out the morgue door, it won't matter." Grabbing Claire's wrist less than kindly -- though not intentionally so -- she proceeded to slash the hospital band in two, letting it fall to the ground. Then she was pulling away, making down the stairs in a half-run. "Come on."
Claire didn’t get a chance to argue with Sylar as he cut the band from her wrist and then started to drag her along behind him. She glanced back at Peter to make sure he was following as they raced down the stairs, having to move a little quicker than the two of them because she had shorter legs.
As they ran, she prayed they would all make it out.
Peter huffed out a sigh, but joined the race down the stairs a second later, and within seconds they were on the ground floor. Sylar made another gesture, pulling this door open just as easily as the last one, and then she was dragging Claire out of the stairwell and down the hallway. She stopped once they reached an intersection, casting a glance back at Peter.
"Which way?"
She cast a glance down one hallway and then the other, before starting down one of them as leader now. "This way."
Claire remained silent because maybe she had been in the hospital the longest but she had been unconscious the entire time, and so she didn’t know her way around at all. She paused when Sylar did, glancing this way and that before Peter told them the direction they needed to head in.
“Do you have a car parked somewhere nearby?” She figured they did but she was going to ask just in case because one never knew with these two.
"Yeah," Peter affirmed, casting a glance over her shoulder at her. "Sylar hid it behind one of the dumpsters out back." Not the most glamorous place for their getaway car, but it had seemed the safest at the time.
"Okay." Claire looked relieved as she nodded her head, squeezing Sylar's hand gently. "Lead the way then."
Sylar squeezed back, following Peter out of the building. The paused for a moment outside, both men masquerading as women trying to get their bearings, and then they were headed in the direction of the car. And without incident, they found it a few moments later, exactly where Peter had suggested it would be.
Sylar went for the driver's side automatically, body rebelling against his disguise, features shifting back into his own as he climbed into the car. Peter moved for the back seat, doing the same.
Claire hoped they wouldn’t call too much attention to themselves as she stood between them, looking around. Luckily she didn’t see anyone, or at least there was no one who was paying attention to two nurses and a young girl in a hospital gown. As they ran, she held the back of her gown closed while shivering as she could feel the cool night air teasing her skin.
When they found the car, she slid into the passenger seat while making sure she was covered. “Go.” She murmured to Sylar, watching the hospital apprehensively.
He held up two fingers, jabbing them towards the empty ignition and then turning, and the car sprung to life without its keys. Then, as Claire had suggested, he was wheeling away from the hospital without concern for who saw them. They'd gotten out, now they needed to get away; to hell with anything else.
As they escaped the hospital, Claire slouched in the front seat with a sigh. She wasn't sure she was going to breathe easily yet, not till they were further away but this was a good start. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head to look at Sylar and then back to Peter. "Thank you," she murmured before looking at her lover again. "For finding me and getting my ability back."
"You're welcome," Peter answered, offering her a crooked smile. Sylar, on the other hand, said nothing, instead reaching to rest a hand on her thigh, lightly.
Reaching down, she curled her hand over Sylar's as he let his rest on her thigh. Looking out the window, she shifted her weight and then wrinkled her nose as the seat didn't feel exactly great on her bare skin. "I take it we have a place to hide? Somewhere I can get a change of clothes and a bath? Or at least a shower?" If they were in a big hurry.
"There's a motel twenty miles from here," Sylar answered. "We can go there, change, and leave." He didn't want to stay that close to the hospital for too long, just in case Bennet thought to look for them close by.
"Thank God, because I don't want to think about what was in the body bag before me." Another little shudder as she tightened her fingers around Sylar's hand.
"Sorry," Peter mumbled, "we just figured it'd be the easiest way to get you out of there. We kinda had to think on the fly."
"Parkman told us your father was on his way," the killer explained, turning his hand under Claire's to lace their fingers together, awkwardly. "We didn't have time for a better plan."
“It’s okay, it was a good idea. Just creepy.” She smiled at Peter but then the smile died as she looked over at Sylar sharply. “You talked to Parkman? Where? Wait, he was actually here here?” She motioned back at the hospital which was behind them.
“He was in my head.”
Sylar didn't bother to answer the question, instead shooting Claire a pointed look. "What did he do to you?"
Now she looked wary again. "He posed as my dad first. I think he was trying to convince me that I should go home, that basically I should leave you." She didn't need to tell him all of what Matt had said. "I convinced him I wasn't going anywhere though. At least that I wasn't going back to my dad."
He looked back towards the road, something undefinable but decidedly sour written on his face. "Right."
"Sylar." She murmured his name, forgetting about Peter as she focused solely on the man beside her. "What is it?"
"Just thinking that I should have killed Parkman when we ran into him," he answered, offering her a small, sick smile.
"He left me alone, Sylar. He could have stayed there and forced me to do anything but he didn't." She kept her voice soft. "I think he was put up to it by my dad."
"That's sort of what it sounded like to me," Peter put in, leaning in between the seats so that he could be included in the conversation. "I mean, he did tell us which room Claire was in. If he really wanted to, he could've convinced us that she wasn't there or, like, I dunno. Totally mindwiped us or something."
Sylar rolled his eyes. "Parkman wouldn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. He couldn't do it."
“We don’t know that.” Claire looked over at Sylar. “He’s gotten rather strong from the first time I’ve met him. But he ... he told you what room I was in?” She looked surprised as she glanced back at Peter. Sure, Matt hadn’t seemed pleased with the idea that she wanted to stay with Sylar but she wouldn’t have guessed he would actually hand over the information of where she was.
"And that dad was on his way," the killer replied.
"Huh." Claire murmured, frowning a little bit as she looked at them both. "Well, that's ... interesting." She had to wonder what Matt was going to say to her dad and she could only hope he would give the message she had told him. That she wasn't coming back.
"He kinda seemed like he just wanted to get out of the middle of all this." Peter knew the feeling, honestly, but he was also pretty sure that he'd screwed himself in helping Sylar rescue Claire. Bennet would consider him just as much the bad guy now as he did Sylar; he'd picked his side without meaning to.
Now it was her turn to sigh a little as she looked at her uncle, something soft and sad in her eyes. "I think all of us wish we could get out of the middle of this." Then she slid a sideways glance to the driver of the vehicle. "Most of us anways." She said it with a little smile as though she were teasing.
"I'm not most people," Sylar answered automatically, offering her a sideways smile.
"Thank God." She murmured, almost fondly. Yes, she had just admitted out loud that she was glad he wasn't most people.
Peter arched his eyebrows then lowered them, frowning like a kid who had caught his parents flirting and didn't approve, and leaned back in his seat. Sylar, if anything, only looked more smug for a moment, squeezing Claire's hand lightly, before, "We'll be there soon."
No need to grief Peter too much -- he'd done him a favor, helping with Claire, after all.
Claire smirked a little at Sylar’s smug reaction and then she caught the look on Peter’s face which only made her laugh. She leaned her head against the back of the seat, sighing softly as she was looking forward to getting out of her hospital gown. But then where would they head next?
“How long are you running with us?” She peeked over at Peter again.
"I think you guys are sort of stuck with me for awhile," he answered, shrugging a bit. "I mean, I kinda just served Bennet a big dose of Screw You."
"It would probably be better for us to stay near each other," she admitted, glancing over at Sylar to see his reaction.
Sylar didn't seem in the least surprised, even if he couldn't say he was entirely happy. "Claire's right."
"But, as much as I love you, you get your own hotel rooms." Claire gave Peter a pointed look even as she blushed ever so slightly.
"Yeah," Peter agreed, hastily. "I mean, as much as I'm stuck with you guys, I don't really want to -- you know."
Half-tempted to finish Peter's sentence for him, Sylar cast him a glance in the rear-view mirror. Thankfully, however, he seemed to think better of saying anything, instead settling on a small, knowing smile. Peter's reflection made a face and then looked away.
"Yeah." Claire nodded before seeming to catch the look that passed between the two men. Clearing her throat, she squirmed a little bit as she was almost uncomfortable. "Are we almost at the hotel?" She looked at Sylar before glancing out the window once more. She really wanted to get out of the hospital gown and into some fresh clothes.
Sylar hummed in response, lapsing into silence after that, and just a few moments later, they were pulling into the parking lot of the motel he'd mentioned. Still wordless, he made another twisting hand gesture, letting the car turn off, and then he was getting out, heading for the main building. And minutes later, he returned with a key, leaning into the car to offer it to Claire. "Make it quick. We'll wait here."
Claire slipped out of the seat when Sylar returned with the key, waiting for Peter or someone to hand her a small bag that would have something for her to change into. It was kind of funny too because she walked away backwards as she headed towards the hotel room. Of course she had to twist a little bit to open the door but it was clear she was trying not to flash them her backside. Or mainly, she was trying not to flash Peter.
Peter seemed to think the same thing, and he looked away as he passed her the bag that had been sitting on the floor next to him for the duration of the ride.
As soon as she had the door unlocked, she flashed a smile at them but it was gone as soon as she closed the door. Looking over the hotel room, she sighed because she knew didn’t have a lot of time to get cleaned up and changed. Then they would be back on the road and back on the run.
She was hoping that Matt would pass on her message to her dad but she wasn’t sure that would stop Noah Bennet. She had no doubt he would be back on their trail in a short amount of time and she felt guilty for it. She had to ask herself how much more could she really put them through before it got to be too much.
[cowritten with
heroslayer <3 Peter is hadtobeahero and is used with love and permission. Use of Noah Bennet isn't aimed at a specific journal]