Fic: Primatech 815 - Ch. 19
Title: Primatech 815
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Previous Chapters
Chapter 19
Something's wrong. She isn't sure what, but Claire knows for a fact that there is definitely something off about the camp tonight. Ever since Bennet had convinced her to move to the caves, something had been pulling at the back of her mind and setting her off in all the wrong ways.
A sound reached her ears, but she can't quite place it. It sounds like whimpers... or screams... Claire can't really tell which it is, but the sound is so familiar.
It's only when Claire pushed herself up from lying on her back in the cold grass does she realize that she isn't at the camp at all. This isn't where she had fallen asleep. She's alone, in a field of knee high grass and stocks of trees that block out the moon's rays. She shivers as she wanders through the jungle, the strange noises growing louder with every step she takes while the grass tickles her exposed legs.
It isn't long before she approaches a figure sitting in the middle of the jungle. The figure -- a man -- is sitting on a rock, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed as he stares at the pair of glasses hanging limply in his hands.
"Daddy?" The words leave her lips before she could even think about it. This man is not her father, of that she is certain, and that fact becomes even clearer, when he lifts his head and looks her straight in the eyes.
It's Bennet starring at her, his face an indifferent mask as he absently polishes the horn-rimmed glasses that she was so used to seeing him wear. Yet it's not his eerie calmness or the fact that he's sitting out in the jungle in the middle of the night polishing his glasses that makes her breath catch in her throat, it's his eyes. Bennet's once clear blue eyes have been replaced with two marbles, one jet black the other a frosty white.
She feels her body tremble as she hugs herself tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of the too long grey sweater that wraps around her frame.
"He abandoned you Claire," Bennet whispered to her, but his voice is strange and unfamiliar in her ears. "He didn't want you and you have to accept that."
On instinct alone, the teenager finds herself taking a frightened step backwards, but her legs don't work the way they should. Instead, the girl finds herself tumbling backwards, hitting the ground with a too loud thud. She grimaces at the sensation and suddenly her legs feel as if they've been snapped in half like two dry twigs. Claire gasps, pulling her hands away from herself only to find that they're already drenched in blood.
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The scream that filled the calm jungle air pierces her ears and makes her cringe. Claire had to fight back the urge to cup her hands over her ears in order to block out the noise, but even as the thought entered her mind she found her body too busy focusing on the feeling of her heart pounding and her limbs shaking with panic.
It's only when she feels a pair of strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and hears a familiar voice call her name does it finally dawn on Claire that the person screaming had been her. The teenager gasped, sucking in deep gulps of air as she opens her eyes and takes in Bennet's worried face. She can feel the still hot streaks of tears staining her cheeks and her throat finally begins to burn from the abuse.
"Claire?" Bennet is still holding her, whispering her name over and over again as if he wasn't certain whether the girl had startled herself back into reality. She looks around her and sees Peter less than an inch away from Bennet gazing at her with concerned brown eyes. Matt approaches from the right, his eyes still blurry with sleep, but his body struggling towards alertness. Niki comes towards her with her hand holding Micah's tightly as the child rubs the sleep from his eyes. "It's okay. You were dreaming. You were sleepwalking."
She doesn't say anything. She doesn't think she can say anything. The dream still lingers in her mind, digging its hateful fingers into her and dragging her back into darkness.
Bennet looks down at her and his eyes widen. Gently, he releases her still trembling arms from his grasp and reaches towards her tightly clenched fists. "Claire," he whispered, his voice filled with horror as he gently unfurls her fingers to reveal the freshly slipped blood that covers her palms. "What happened?"
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"That, uh, musta been one hell of a nightmare," Peter smirked. Claire could tell right away that he was in "nurse mode." He was trying to take on the persona of a neutral party in order to trick her into telling him what was wrong.
She frowned, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground as Peter continued to gently wrap gauze around her torn flesh. "What makes you think it was a nightmare?" she whispered, yet even in the warm glow of a new morning Claire still couldn't shake the chill the dream had wrapped her in.
"I dunno, Claire, I'd say when someone makes a fist so tight they dig their finger nails a quarter of an inch into their palms they weren't exactly dreaming about riding ponies."
The corners of her lips twisted slightly at his words. The teen felt bad keeping this from Peter, after all they had been together on the island for over two weeks and she had always felt that the nurse was someone she could turn to when things got bad, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. Her dream had been so strange and the last thing she wanted was for Peter to think that she was crazy.
"Did you ever sleepwalk before?" he asked, bringing the cheerleader's thoughts back to the present.
"Umm, no," she mumbled, shaking her head slowly as the young man released her hand from his grasp. "I don't think so. How d'you know?"
"It'll come back to you," he assured her. "Your parents ever say anything about it?"
The cheerleader frowned, biting her lower lip thoughtfully as she considered his words.
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The cheerleader frowned, biting her lower lip thoughtfully as she studied the piece of paper in her hands. It was the first time in her short life that she had ever seen her birth certificate and the second she glanced at the document, her head filled with a tidal wave of questions. The first thing her eyes noticed was the fact that her father's name and signature were missing (not a big surprise considering she had never met the man before) and the listed place of birth was completely wrong. The hospital, city, state, even country did not match up with what she had been told, with what she had spent so many years of her life believing.
"I'm Australian," she gasped, her wide green eyes reading over the words "St. Vincent's Hospital, Sydney, NSW" over and over again.
"'Fraid so," her mother mumbled, placing a tender hand on the girl's tanned shoulder.
"You said I was from Texas," she muttered, her mind still too frazzled to form a coherent thought.
"I know," the woman sighed, shifting closer to her on the too small couch. "And I'm sorry, bu-"
"You're not Australian," Claire cut in, pinning her mother with a confused look. "You're from Arkansas... right?"
"Yup," her mother confirmed, waiting patiently for Claire to process everything.
"So... what were you doing in Australia?"
Meredith sighed, a wistful smile spreading across her features as she leaned back against the couch and called up the distant memories. "I was young an’ restless," she mused. "I wanted ta see the world, travel to far off places, so I packed my bags an' went to Australia.
"I stayed there for a while," she went on, her face growing more serious as she spoke. "Met a man, an American. Said he was in the Navy. We fooled around, had some fun, then... nine months later, you came along."
Even as Meredith's words faded away, Claire continued to sit there, wrapped in silence and gazing at the missing name and signature. This was the first time her mother had spoken more than two words about her absent father. As a child, Claire would ask about her father often, and her mother would always respond the same way.
"You don't need a daddy, hun," she would tell her. "We're better off, jus' you an' me."
After a while, she stopped asking, but hearing this new bit of information about the mysterious man who had helped create her awakened the need to know more. She wasn't sure if she needed a father anymore -- she was already in high school and making her way to college -- but the teenager was certain that she needed to know about herself. That's what her father represented in her mind, her other half. He was the key to unlocking all the mysteries about her all the little questions she had about who she was.
"Well, uh, was he around at all?" she pushed, wanting to get as much out of her mother as possible. "Did... did he know about me?"
"No," Meredith sighed, running her slim fingers through her long blonde hair. "He had ta leave before I found out."
"Well, why didn't you get in touch with him?"
Her mother blushed sheepishly, biting her lower lip as she struggled to meet the girl's questioning gaze. "Didn't really know his full name," she admitted.
Claire nodded, a bit embarrassed by the woman's confession, but she knew that now was not the time to judge her mother. Yet she couldn't help wondering why now, after so many years, was the woman telling her all this. The teenager had been asking about her father for years, yet it was only now, a few days before her sixteenth birthday, was she learning this. "Why are you telling me this, Mom?" she asked, fidgeting slightly.
A pained look quickly crossed over Meredith's features, but she pushed them away, pulling on a thin lipped smile for her daughter. Claire knew that look well. It was a clear indication that her mother had something unpleasant to tell her. "Well, I, uh... I went to the doctors a few days ago," she began, her words hesitant and uncertain. "And... they told me I'm sick. I dunno how much longer I'll have an'... I thought I should tell you this now, before it's too late."
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"I'm worried about Claire," Peter sighed shifting the bag of water bottles on his shoulder. "Sixteen year old girl all alone on a deserted island with a bunch of strangers... she's got it pretty rough."
"Well Peter, nobody here has it easy," Matt reminded him as the two marched side by side through the jungle.
"Yeah, this situation is really hard on all of us," he agreed, "but it's gotta be even worse for her."
"I'm just saying, we've got more important things to worry about than a teenager having nightmares," the cop said pointedly. "Like the psychotic serial killer who’s looking for any possible opening he can find to go running off into the jungle to look for his boyfriend."
The young nurse chuckled softly at the other man's words. "I don't think he and Mohinder were like that."
"Tell that to Sylar," he muttered.
Peter barely registered Matt's remark as his mind turned towards the Indian man. It had been five days since Mohinder had disappeared. Peter had thought that the Indian would have been back by now -- after all how long could someone stand being alone in the jungle before the basic human need for social interaction drove them back -- yet Mohinder still hadn't returned. "Mohinder's been gone for almost a week," Peter said. "I wonder why he hasn't come back yet."
"He's a big boy, I'm sure he's fine," Matt said dismissively, yet Peter knew that the other man shared his concern. "Besides, if someone like Sylar was waiting for you would you be eager to come back to the camp?"
The nurse shrugged, brushing his floppy brown hair out of his face. "Yeah, that's true, but-"
"Listen, Peter," Matt cut in, gripping the younger man's shoulder and effectively stopping him in his tracks. "I understand that you're the sensitive type and all, but you're spreading yourself way too thin emotionally. Remember what I told you about being a leader? Well, as sweet as being an open hearted leader type is, you gotta toughen yourself up a bit."
Peter nodded along with Matt's words, all the while thinking about how much the man was starting to sound like his brother.
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Mohinder's head was throbbing, his mouth was bone dry, and his legs were burning. As he wandered through the jungle, the wound in his leg making every step feel that much more agonizing, he couldn't help wondering if this had all been a mistake. He should have stayed at the camp. He shouldn't have let his feelings get the better of him (as they often did) and now he was paying the price. He was lost, dizzy, and he didn't even know how long he had been wandering around. The geneticist was so exhausted and disorientated that for all he knew, he could have simply been going on circles for the past few days.
The Indian man groaned, taking a moment to stop and rest his worn out body against the sturdy trunk of a tree. Taking in deep, greedy breaths the geneticist did his best to calm himself long enough to get his bearings.
It was then that he heard it. Quiet at first, but the sound only grew as he stiffened in discomfort. There were voices, whispering all around him. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Mohinder could tell that there were several of them, surrounding him...
His heart filled with dread as he realized that Maya may not have been so crazy after all.
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Bennet smiled as he watched as Claire scribbled something down in her diary. Obviously the girl was too stubborn to talk about her problems and saw writing them all down as a better option. Typical teenage behavior. "Want something to drink?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the small book. She gave him a polite, yet startled smile as she put the book down and took the bottle of water he offered her. "Feeling better?"
"It was just a dream," she told him, rolling her light eyes at his words, yet the smirk playing across the cheerleader's tanned features told him she meant no harm.
"Yeah," he laughed, sitting down on the soft ground beside her. "Just a dream. Although I've never seen anyone scream like that over a 'dream.'"
"I'm alright, Mr. Bennet," Claire assured him. "I know everybody on this island thinks I need to be protected, but I'm not a little kid. I'm sixteen, not six. I can handle myself."
Bennet felt his smile widen and his body grow warm all at once as he listened to the child's words. She reminded him so much of himself when he was younger; too head strong to listen to reason and filled with enough confidence to take on the world. "I know, Claire," he whispered. "It's just... I worry about you. You're all alone out here. No mother no father to take care of you. It must be lonely."
"I know what you're getting at," she sighed. "I'm fine, I mean it. You don't have to pretend to be my father."
Even as Claire bowed her head and flashed him an apologetic look, Bennet still felt the words dig into his heart. All the memories that he had buried away in his mind flooding back to him at those words. She didn't mean it and she didn't know any better, but at that moment Bennet couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, pushing himself off of the ground. "I shouldn't have-"
"Mr. Bennet-" she began, but he cut her off.
"It's okay Claire. I understand."
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Claire sighed, trying her best to focus on the math equations on her desk, but her mind was too troubled for something as mundane as homework.
The cheerleader's whole world was still reeling from the twin bombs her mother had dropped on her only a week ago. In less than an hour she had learned that she was from another country and that her mother was dying of cancer. Any other time the former would have been more troubling, but the idea of her mother's impending death was a constant presence that gripped her heart and chilled her to the bone. Her mother was still young, only in her mid thirties, and yet this sickness was going to squeeze the life out of her, erasing the time and possibilities that still lay in front of her.
Claire remembered collapsing into her mother's arms in a fit of tears. She remembered kissing the older woman's face and telling her how much she loved her. The memory was just enough to cause a painful lump to form in her throat.
If she lost her mother, she lost everything. It would be like losing a part of her soul.
The teen sighed as her cell phone vibrated and chimed, alerting her to the text message she had just received. A small smirk crept onto her lips when she saw that the message had come from Zach.
hey princess he wrote. long time no speak. wat's up with u lately?
Claire frowned. She knew she hadn't been herself lately, but she had hoped no one else had noticed. nothing. y?
She waited a few minutes, knowing Zach would take a while to reply. When she felt the familiar vibrations, she opened his message and her frown deepened. uve been a zombie 4 the past week! something's up n ur not tellin. friend foul.
Claire sighed, drumming her fingers against the pink plastic coating of the small phone. She hadn't told anyone about her situation, it was too personal, but a part of her longed to confide in Zach. She knew him well -- he'd keep any secret she could dump on his lap -- but the wounds felt too raw to even write about, let alone talk about. it's complicated she replied, putting the phone down and hoping that would be enough.
It wasn't. Zach texted her back less than a minute later. then we have to talk. im worried. tell me.
A small smile pulled at her lips as she read over the reply. She supposed that letting one person in wouldn't be so bad. can u come over?
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That night, Claire's panicked voice once again disturbed the quiet little camp, but this was much worse.
"Help me!" Claire howled. "Someone's trying to hurt me! Help! Please!"
The scream was like a siren, jerking everyone from their peaceful slumber and pulling them into full alert. Peter was on his feet in an instant, scrambling to the frightened young blonde's side only to see that Bennet was already there, holding her in his arms as she screamed and cried. Her tanned face was red and twisted as frightened tears burned their way down her cheeks.
"What happened?" he asked, bending down to get a good look at her, but it was difficult when the only source of light came from the fire at the center of camp.
"Someone attacked her," Bennet said, tightening his grip around the frightened child's body.
"What?" Matt's voice asked from just over Peter's shoulder. The young nurse glanced at him and saw the serious look on the other man's face. His police officer's training was definitely kicking in.
"H-he held me down," Claire whimpered, shivering even as Bennet rubbed at her thin arms.
"Where'd he go?" Peter asked. "How long ago?"
"I don't remember," she sobbed. "I... I couldn't see. N-not long ago. H-he ran away."
"What's going on?" Niki asked as she approached the slowly increasing crowd. The young brunette, Candice, was just a few steps behind her, followed by a very startled Isaac and Simone.
"Claire was attacked," Bennet told her, a very serious look on his face and Peter suddenly did not want to cross the middle aged man.
"What?" Niki gasped. "Just now?"
"We should search the area," Isaac suggested. "See if we can find anything suspicious."
"Wait a minute," Matt began. "We don't know who we're looking for and-"
"I'm going to go look with Isaac," Niki cut in. "If anybody's attacking kids around here then I want to find them. Simone, can you watch Micah for me?"
"Sure," the tanned woman whispered just as Isaac and Niki disappeared into the jungle.
The young nurse sighed, running his hands through his brown hair. The group was out of control and panicking. A girl had been attacked and he had slept through it. He was shaping out to be a piss poor leader. "Candice, can you get her some water?" Peter asked. The brunette nodded and went off towards the water falls. "Claire," Peter began, grasping the frightened teenager's hand in his. "Tell me what happened, from the beginning."
"Did you get a good look at him?" Matt asked; his voice calm and patient.
Claire trembled, taking in several deep, quivering breaths. "I d-didn't get a good look at him," she admitted. "It was dark I..."
"It’s okay, Claire," Bennet whispered, running a soothing hand over the girl's blonde hair. "You're safe. I'm here."
"I... I was right here," she said, starting from the beginning. "I... I was sl-sleeping and... and he tried to..." Her words faded away as tears once again sprang into her eyes, too distraught to recall the memory. "He had this... this needle and... and he stabbed me with it." With that said, the girl lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach to show them where the needle had pierced her flesh, yet Peter saw nothing but smooth skin. "He was trying to hurt me."
Peter nodded, but stayed silent. He didn't know what to think. His heart said to believe in Claire, to go out and hunt down the monster who had tried to harm her and beat him to an inch of his life, but his mind saw the clean skin and recalled last night's sleep walking incident and told him this could have all been in her head.
"Peter," Matt whispered, leaning in closely to the nurse's side. "I think we need to talk to you-know-who."
The young man nodded, well aware of what Matt was getting at, as he gave Claire's hand a tender squeeze. "Everything's going to be okay, Claire," the nurse promised her. "You'll be fine."
Next Chapter
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Previous Chapters
Chapter 19
Something's wrong. She isn't sure what, but Claire knows for a fact that there is definitely something off about the camp tonight. Ever since Bennet had convinced her to move to the caves, something had been pulling at the back of her mind and setting her off in all the wrong ways.
A sound reached her ears, but she can't quite place it. It sounds like whimpers... or screams... Claire can't really tell which it is, but the sound is so familiar.
It's only when Claire pushed herself up from lying on her back in the cold grass does she realize that she isn't at the camp at all. This isn't where she had fallen asleep. She's alone, in a field of knee high grass and stocks of trees that block out the moon's rays. She shivers as she wanders through the jungle, the strange noises growing louder with every step she takes while the grass tickles her exposed legs.
It isn't long before she approaches a figure sitting in the middle of the jungle. The figure -- a man -- is sitting on a rock, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed as he stares at the pair of glasses hanging limply in his hands.
"Daddy?" The words leave her lips before she could even think about it. This man is not her father, of that she is certain, and that fact becomes even clearer, when he lifts his head and looks her straight in the eyes.
It's Bennet starring at her, his face an indifferent mask as he absently polishes the horn-rimmed glasses that she was so used to seeing him wear. Yet it's not his eerie calmness or the fact that he's sitting out in the jungle in the middle of the night polishing his glasses that makes her breath catch in her throat, it's his eyes. Bennet's once clear blue eyes have been replaced with two marbles, one jet black the other a frosty white.
She feels her body tremble as she hugs herself tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of the too long grey sweater that wraps around her frame.
"He abandoned you Claire," Bennet whispered to her, but his voice is strange and unfamiliar in her ears. "He didn't want you and you have to accept that."
On instinct alone, the teenager finds herself taking a frightened step backwards, but her legs don't work the way they should. Instead, the girl finds herself tumbling backwards, hitting the ground with a too loud thud. She grimaces at the sensation and suddenly her legs feel as if they've been snapped in half like two dry twigs. Claire gasps, pulling her hands away from herself only to find that they're already drenched in blood.
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The scream that filled the calm jungle air pierces her ears and makes her cringe. Claire had to fight back the urge to cup her hands over her ears in order to block out the noise, but even as the thought entered her mind she found her body too busy focusing on the feeling of her heart pounding and her limbs shaking with panic.
It's only when she feels a pair of strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and hears a familiar voice call her name does it finally dawn on Claire that the person screaming had been her. The teenager gasped, sucking in deep gulps of air as she opens her eyes and takes in Bennet's worried face. She can feel the still hot streaks of tears staining her cheeks and her throat finally begins to burn from the abuse.
"Claire?" Bennet is still holding her, whispering her name over and over again as if he wasn't certain whether the girl had startled herself back into reality. She looks around her and sees Peter less than an inch away from Bennet gazing at her with concerned brown eyes. Matt approaches from the right, his eyes still blurry with sleep, but his body struggling towards alertness. Niki comes towards her with her hand holding Micah's tightly as the child rubs the sleep from his eyes. "It's okay. You were dreaming. You were sleepwalking."
She doesn't say anything. She doesn't think she can say anything. The dream still lingers in her mind, digging its hateful fingers into her and dragging her back into darkness.
Bennet looks down at her and his eyes widen. Gently, he releases her still trembling arms from his grasp and reaches towards her tightly clenched fists. "Claire," he whispered, his voice filled with horror as he gently unfurls her fingers to reveal the freshly slipped blood that covers her palms. "What happened?"
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"That, uh, musta been one hell of a nightmare," Peter smirked. Claire could tell right away that he was in "nurse mode." He was trying to take on the persona of a neutral party in order to trick her into telling him what was wrong.
She frowned, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground as Peter continued to gently wrap gauze around her torn flesh. "What makes you think it was a nightmare?" she whispered, yet even in the warm glow of a new morning Claire still couldn't shake the chill the dream had wrapped her in.
"I dunno, Claire, I'd say when someone makes a fist so tight they dig their finger nails a quarter of an inch into their palms they weren't exactly dreaming about riding ponies."
The corners of her lips twisted slightly at his words. The teen felt bad keeping this from Peter, after all they had been together on the island for over two weeks and she had always felt that the nurse was someone she could turn to when things got bad, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. Her dream had been so strange and the last thing she wanted was for Peter to think that she was crazy.
"Did you ever sleepwalk before?" he asked, bringing the cheerleader's thoughts back to the present.
"Umm, no," she mumbled, shaking her head slowly as the young man released her hand from his grasp. "I don't think so. How d'you know?"
"It'll come back to you," he assured her. "Your parents ever say anything about it?"
The cheerleader frowned, biting her lower lip thoughtfully as she considered his words.
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The cheerleader frowned, biting her lower lip thoughtfully as she studied the piece of paper in her hands. It was the first time in her short life that she had ever seen her birth certificate and the second she glanced at the document, her head filled with a tidal wave of questions. The first thing her eyes noticed was the fact that her father's name and signature were missing (not a big surprise considering she had never met the man before) and the listed place of birth was completely wrong. The hospital, city, state, even country did not match up with what she had been told, with what she had spent so many years of her life believing.
"I'm Australian," she gasped, her wide green eyes reading over the words "St. Vincent's Hospital, Sydney, NSW" over and over again.
"'Fraid so," her mother mumbled, placing a tender hand on the girl's tanned shoulder.
"You said I was from Texas," she muttered, her mind still too frazzled to form a coherent thought.
"I know," the woman sighed, shifting closer to her on the too small couch. "And I'm sorry, bu-"
"You're not Australian," Claire cut in, pinning her mother with a confused look. "You're from Arkansas... right?"
"Yup," her mother confirmed, waiting patiently for Claire to process everything.
"So... what were you doing in Australia?"
Meredith sighed, a wistful smile spreading across her features as she leaned back against the couch and called up the distant memories. "I was young an’ restless," she mused. "I wanted ta see the world, travel to far off places, so I packed my bags an' went to Australia.
"I stayed there for a while," she went on, her face growing more serious as she spoke. "Met a man, an American. Said he was in the Navy. We fooled around, had some fun, then... nine months later, you came along."
Even as Meredith's words faded away, Claire continued to sit there, wrapped in silence and gazing at the missing name and signature. This was the first time her mother had spoken more than two words about her absent father. As a child, Claire would ask about her father often, and her mother would always respond the same way.
"You don't need a daddy, hun," she would tell her. "We're better off, jus' you an' me."
After a while, she stopped asking, but hearing this new bit of information about the mysterious man who had helped create her awakened the need to know more. She wasn't sure if she needed a father anymore -- she was already in high school and making her way to college -- but the teenager was certain that she needed to know about herself. That's what her father represented in her mind, her other half. He was the key to unlocking all the mysteries about her all the little questions she had about who she was.
"Well, uh, was he around at all?" she pushed, wanting to get as much out of her mother as possible. "Did... did he know about me?"
"No," Meredith sighed, running her slim fingers through her long blonde hair. "He had ta leave before I found out."
"Well, why didn't you get in touch with him?"
Her mother blushed sheepishly, biting her lower lip as she struggled to meet the girl's questioning gaze. "Didn't really know his full name," she admitted.
Claire nodded, a bit embarrassed by the woman's confession, but she knew that now was not the time to judge her mother. Yet she couldn't help wondering why now, after so many years, was the woman telling her all this. The teenager had been asking about her father for years, yet it was only now, a few days before her sixteenth birthday, was she learning this. "Why are you telling me this, Mom?" she asked, fidgeting slightly.
A pained look quickly crossed over Meredith's features, but she pushed them away, pulling on a thin lipped smile for her daughter. Claire knew that look well. It was a clear indication that her mother had something unpleasant to tell her. "Well, I, uh... I went to the doctors a few days ago," she began, her words hesitant and uncertain. "And... they told me I'm sick. I dunno how much longer I'll have an'... I thought I should tell you this now, before it's too late."
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"I'm worried about Claire," Peter sighed shifting the bag of water bottles on his shoulder. "Sixteen year old girl all alone on a deserted island with a bunch of strangers... she's got it pretty rough."
"Well Peter, nobody here has it easy," Matt reminded him as the two marched side by side through the jungle.
"Yeah, this situation is really hard on all of us," he agreed, "but it's gotta be even worse for her."
"I'm just saying, we've got more important things to worry about than a teenager having nightmares," the cop said pointedly. "Like the psychotic serial killer who’s looking for any possible opening he can find to go running off into the jungle to look for his boyfriend."
The young nurse chuckled softly at the other man's words. "I don't think he and Mohinder were like that."
"Tell that to Sylar," he muttered.
Peter barely registered Matt's remark as his mind turned towards the Indian man. It had been five days since Mohinder had disappeared. Peter had thought that the Indian would have been back by now -- after all how long could someone stand being alone in the jungle before the basic human need for social interaction drove them back -- yet Mohinder still hadn't returned. "Mohinder's been gone for almost a week," Peter said. "I wonder why he hasn't come back yet."
"He's a big boy, I'm sure he's fine," Matt said dismissively, yet Peter knew that the other man shared his concern. "Besides, if someone like Sylar was waiting for you would you be eager to come back to the camp?"
The nurse shrugged, brushing his floppy brown hair out of his face. "Yeah, that's true, but-"
"Listen, Peter," Matt cut in, gripping the younger man's shoulder and effectively stopping him in his tracks. "I understand that you're the sensitive type and all, but you're spreading yourself way too thin emotionally. Remember what I told you about being a leader? Well, as sweet as being an open hearted leader type is, you gotta toughen yourself up a bit."
Peter nodded along with Matt's words, all the while thinking about how much the man was starting to sound like his brother.
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Mohinder's head was throbbing, his mouth was bone dry, and his legs were burning. As he wandered through the jungle, the wound in his leg making every step feel that much more agonizing, he couldn't help wondering if this had all been a mistake. He should have stayed at the camp. He shouldn't have let his feelings get the better of him (as they often did) and now he was paying the price. He was lost, dizzy, and he didn't even know how long he had been wandering around. The geneticist was so exhausted and disorientated that for all he knew, he could have simply been going on circles for the past few days.
The Indian man groaned, taking a moment to stop and rest his worn out body against the sturdy trunk of a tree. Taking in deep, greedy breaths the geneticist did his best to calm himself long enough to get his bearings.
It was then that he heard it. Quiet at first, but the sound only grew as he stiffened in discomfort. There were voices, whispering all around him. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Mohinder could tell that there were several of them, surrounding him...
His heart filled with dread as he realized that Maya may not have been so crazy after all.
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Bennet smiled as he watched as Claire scribbled something down in her diary. Obviously the girl was too stubborn to talk about her problems and saw writing them all down as a better option. Typical teenage behavior. "Want something to drink?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the small book. She gave him a polite, yet startled smile as she put the book down and took the bottle of water he offered her. "Feeling better?"
"It was just a dream," she told him, rolling her light eyes at his words, yet the smirk playing across the cheerleader's tanned features told him she meant no harm.
"Yeah," he laughed, sitting down on the soft ground beside her. "Just a dream. Although I've never seen anyone scream like that over a 'dream.'"
"I'm alright, Mr. Bennet," Claire assured him. "I know everybody on this island thinks I need to be protected, but I'm not a little kid. I'm sixteen, not six. I can handle myself."
Bennet felt his smile widen and his body grow warm all at once as he listened to the child's words. She reminded him so much of himself when he was younger; too head strong to listen to reason and filled with enough confidence to take on the world. "I know, Claire," he whispered. "It's just... I worry about you. You're all alone out here. No mother no father to take care of you. It must be lonely."
"I know what you're getting at," she sighed. "I'm fine, I mean it. You don't have to pretend to be my father."
Even as Claire bowed her head and flashed him an apologetic look, Bennet still felt the words dig into his heart. All the memories that he had buried away in his mind flooding back to him at those words. She didn't mean it and she didn't know any better, but at that moment Bennet couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, pushing himself off of the ground. "I shouldn't have-"
"Mr. Bennet-" she began, but he cut her off.
"It's okay Claire. I understand."
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Claire sighed, trying her best to focus on the math equations on her desk, but her mind was too troubled for something as mundane as homework.
The cheerleader's whole world was still reeling from the twin bombs her mother had dropped on her only a week ago. In less than an hour she had learned that she was from another country and that her mother was dying of cancer. Any other time the former would have been more troubling, but the idea of her mother's impending death was a constant presence that gripped her heart and chilled her to the bone. Her mother was still young, only in her mid thirties, and yet this sickness was going to squeeze the life out of her, erasing the time and possibilities that still lay in front of her.
Claire remembered collapsing into her mother's arms in a fit of tears. She remembered kissing the older woman's face and telling her how much she loved her. The memory was just enough to cause a painful lump to form in her throat.
If she lost her mother, she lost everything. It would be like losing a part of her soul.
The teen sighed as her cell phone vibrated and chimed, alerting her to the text message she had just received. A small smirk crept onto her lips when she saw that the message had come from Zach.
hey princess he wrote. long time no speak. wat's up with u lately?
Claire frowned. She knew she hadn't been herself lately, but she had hoped no one else had noticed. nothing. y?
She waited a few minutes, knowing Zach would take a while to reply. When she felt the familiar vibrations, she opened his message and her frown deepened. uve been a zombie 4 the past week! something's up n ur not tellin. friend foul.
Claire sighed, drumming her fingers against the pink plastic coating of the small phone. She hadn't told anyone about her situation, it was too personal, but a part of her longed to confide in Zach. She knew him well -- he'd keep any secret she could dump on his lap -- but the wounds felt too raw to even write about, let alone talk about. it's complicated she replied, putting the phone down and hoping that would be enough.
It wasn't. Zach texted her back less than a minute later. then we have to talk. im worried. tell me.
A small smile pulled at her lips as she read over the reply. She supposed that letting one person in wouldn't be so bad. can u come over?
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That night, Claire's panicked voice once again disturbed the quiet little camp, but this was much worse.
"Help me!" Claire howled. "Someone's trying to hurt me! Help! Please!"
The scream was like a siren, jerking everyone from their peaceful slumber and pulling them into full alert. Peter was on his feet in an instant, scrambling to the frightened young blonde's side only to see that Bennet was already there, holding her in his arms as she screamed and cried. Her tanned face was red and twisted as frightened tears burned their way down her cheeks.
"What happened?" he asked, bending down to get a good look at her, but it was difficult when the only source of light came from the fire at the center of camp.
"Someone attacked her," Bennet said, tightening his grip around the frightened child's body.
"What?" Matt's voice asked from just over Peter's shoulder. The young nurse glanced at him and saw the serious look on the other man's face. His police officer's training was definitely kicking in.
"H-he held me down," Claire whimpered, shivering even as Bennet rubbed at her thin arms.
"Where'd he go?" Peter asked. "How long ago?"
"I don't remember," she sobbed. "I... I couldn't see. N-not long ago. H-he ran away."
"What's going on?" Niki asked as she approached the slowly increasing crowd. The young brunette, Candice, was just a few steps behind her, followed by a very startled Isaac and Simone.
"Claire was attacked," Bennet told her, a very serious look on his face and Peter suddenly did not want to cross the middle aged man.
"What?" Niki gasped. "Just now?"
"We should search the area," Isaac suggested. "See if we can find anything suspicious."
"Wait a minute," Matt began. "We don't know who we're looking for and-"
"I'm going to go look with Isaac," Niki cut in. "If anybody's attacking kids around here then I want to find them. Simone, can you watch Micah for me?"
"Sure," the tanned woman whispered just as Isaac and Niki disappeared into the jungle.
The young nurse sighed, running his hands through his brown hair. The group was out of control and panicking. A girl had been attacked and he had slept through it. He was shaping out to be a piss poor leader. "Candice, can you get her some water?" Peter asked. The brunette nodded and went off towards the water falls. "Claire," Peter began, grasping the frightened teenager's hand in his. "Tell me what happened, from the beginning."
"Did you get a good look at him?" Matt asked; his voice calm and patient.
Claire trembled, taking in several deep, quivering breaths. "I d-didn't get a good look at him," she admitted. "It was dark I..."
"It’s okay, Claire," Bennet whispered, running a soothing hand over the girl's blonde hair. "You're safe. I'm here."
"I... I was right here," she said, starting from the beginning. "I... I was sl-sleeping and... and he tried to..." Her words faded away as tears once again sprang into her eyes, too distraught to recall the memory. "He had this... this needle and... and he stabbed me with it." With that said, the girl lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach to show them where the needle had pierced her flesh, yet Peter saw nothing but smooth skin. "He was trying to hurt me."
Peter nodded, but stayed silent. He didn't know what to think. His heart said to believe in Claire, to go out and hunt down the monster who had tried to harm her and beat him to an inch of his life, but his mind saw the clean skin and recalled last night's sleep walking incident and told him this could have all been in her head.
"Peter," Matt whispered, leaning in closely to the nurse's side. "I think we need to talk to you-know-who."
The young man nodded, well aware of what Matt was getting at, as he gave Claire's hand a tender squeeze. "Everything's going to be okay, Claire," the nurse promised her. "You'll be fine."
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