Heroes: Never Be the First to Believe
Title: Never Be the First to Believe
Fandom: Heroes
Author: kawaiispinel
Feedback: ... Is loverly.
Word Count: 927
Rating: PG
Characters: Adam, Claude
Summary: "I’m just suggesting that perhaps a strategic career move would be beneficial to your health, because if the dissections aren’t keeping you up at night, the thought of what might happen to you when you cease to be useful to the Company should."
Disclaimer: It's still not mine. Really.
Author's Note: This fic was just a bitch to write, but I blame Adam for that. He's definitely becoming one of my most vindictive headvoices, because... He's definitely a headvoice, but I'm incapable of writing him with the ease of my other headvoices. *facepalm*
It was sort of initiation rite for a fledgling in The Company to spend some time in the cell of Adam Monroe. It was a sobering mirror, for the most part. A glimpse of what could happen to you if you turned your back on the Company way and abused your powers. Of course, it might have been a far more frightening mirror had Adam not been so amicable about the whole thing (or, rather, pretended to be), but that was par for the course and it made Adam more or less a learning tool. If he could get into someone’s head and start planting seeds of doubt, then it meant that perhaps they didn’t have as good an agent as they thought they had and the appropriate actions were taken. It was a win-win situation for all involved- the Company made sure its agents were trustworthy and Adam got to spend a little bit of time with an actual human being for a little while, although most of the Company would have probably been much happier if Adam was made as uncomfortable as possible.
Not very many fledglings came back for a second round with Adam, because, generally, what would happen is that he’d provoke them into a fight or scare them enough that they’d want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible. Claude, however, wasn’t like most fledglings. His first round with Adam had actually went down rather well, probably due in part to Adam’s interest at having another Englishman to talk to, and eventually one round became two and then three, until Claude was making frequent visits to Adam’s cell and two of them had something of an unusual friendship going on.
"If you keep coming down here like this, people will start to talk," Adam mused, the usual smug grin on his face. He was occupying himself with the meaningless task of tossing playing cards into a little box, although somehow, with him, even that looked organized and practiced, as if it was some sort of training exercise.
"Yeah, well if I have a choice between those who might be potentially crazy and the one person I know is crazy, I think I’ll stick with what I know, thank you," Claude shrugged.
Adam blinked. "Is that what they call me? I’m a little bit disappointed."
"You want something a bit more creative than ‘crazy old bastard?’" Claude smirked. "I can come up with a few. Ol’ Bob comes up with some pretty creative things sometimes."
Adam rolled his eyes and continued to flick cards at the box with a bemused expression. "Well, it’s to be expected. Aren’t most visionaries considered a little bit crazy?"
Claude scoffed. "Visionary," he repeated the word as if tasting it. "Is that what you call yourself?"
"Among many other things," Adam smirked. That was the sort of expression that scared people- it always seemed to make him look as if there were ancient and dark things lurking behind his eyes. There were, of course, but somehow the mere look, itself, caused more fright than the ideas behind it. "You know, Claude," he went on, not even looking at the other man in the room and instead remaining completely focused on his game, "the human race is the only creature on this planet that routinely hunts its own kind for sport."
Claude raised an eyebrow. "And where did that come from?"
Adam shrugged. "Just an observation." He looked up at the other man, an innocent look in his blue eyes as if this was merely a simple conversation between two men and not anything more sinister than that. "Do you think we- that is, people like you and I- count as human?"
"As opposed to being what?"
Again, Adam shrugged. "Something a little more than human. We have abilities that the rest of the race will never have. For all intents and purposes, we could very well be a completely separate race, and if that’s so... Do we really have to have the same proclivities? Must we really be forced to hunt down our own kind?"
"Ah, so your point emerges," Claude chuckled, but there was a hint of anxiety in his voice. Sometimes he had to wonder if perhaps Adam could read minds on top of everything else- he seemed to know exactly what to say to either get a man riled up or get him thinking.
"It’s getting to you, isn’t it? What you’re doing for this Company?"
"You’re one to talk, mate. You did the exact same thing once upon a time." Claude scuffed his feet against the floor and avoided looking Adam in the eye, his tone gruff.
Adam’s smirk widened. "Yes, but if I believed in that sort of thing anymore, do you think I’d be in here?"
Claude narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Adam for any sign of a hidden agenda or even a point to this whole conversation beyond the obvious and found nothing. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to find, of course. It just meant that Adam was doing a damn good job, per usual, of hiding it. "What’re you playing at?" He finally asked.
"Nothing at all," Adam replied innocently. "I’m just suggesting that perhaps a strategic career move would be beneficial to your health, because if the dissections aren’t keeping you up at night, the thought of what might happen to you when you cease to be useful to the Company should."
Claude opened his mouth to offer something akin to a protest, but somehow nothing that he knew for certain was true could be summoned up to contradict Adam’s offhand statement. Clearly, this was a subject he had never been forced to ponder before (even though the thought had always lingered in the back of his mind) and now that it was out in the open, it was pleasantly (from Adam’s perspective anyway) obvious that it would be on his mind for awhile now.
The so-called "invisible man" made some curt excuse to leave and Adam watched him go with an deviously amused smirk. It was almost too easy to plant the seeds of suspicion in someone’s mind these days given what sort of things the Company was plotting under the surface, and if he was going to escape any time soon, he was going to need people on his side outside these walls to help him, preferably people he could trust. Claude would serve that purpose quite nicely.
That is, of course, if he survived to get out. Adam hoped he did, because somewhere in his grey (he refused to believe, despite what Angela and his old "friends" said, that it was completely black) heart he rather liked Claude.
And, of course, there was always the fact that an invisible man could be quite the asset. Well, no one could ever say that befriending him didn't have its perks.
Fandom: Heroes
Author: kawaiispinel
Feedback: ... Is loverly.
Word Count: 927
Rating: PG
Characters: Adam, Claude
Summary: "I’m just suggesting that perhaps a strategic career move would be beneficial to your health, because if the dissections aren’t keeping you up at night, the thought of what might happen to you when you cease to be useful to the Company should."
Disclaimer: It's still not mine. Really.
Author's Note: This fic was just a bitch to write, but I blame Adam for that. He's definitely becoming one of my most vindictive headvoices, because... He's definitely a headvoice, but I'm incapable of writing him with the ease of my other headvoices. *facepalm*
It was sort of initiation rite for a fledgling in The Company to spend some time in the cell of Adam Monroe. It was a sobering mirror, for the most part. A glimpse of what could happen to you if you turned your back on the Company way and abused your powers. Of course, it might have been a far more frightening mirror had Adam not been so amicable about the whole thing (or, rather, pretended to be), but that was par for the course and it made Adam more or less a learning tool. If he could get into someone’s head and start planting seeds of doubt, then it meant that perhaps they didn’t have as good an agent as they thought they had and the appropriate actions were taken. It was a win-win situation for all involved- the Company made sure its agents were trustworthy and Adam got to spend a little bit of time with an actual human being for a little while, although most of the Company would have probably been much happier if Adam was made as uncomfortable as possible.
Not very many fledglings came back for a second round with Adam, because, generally, what would happen is that he’d provoke them into a fight or scare them enough that they’d want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible. Claude, however, wasn’t like most fledglings. His first round with Adam had actually went down rather well, probably due in part to Adam’s interest at having another Englishman to talk to, and eventually one round became two and then three, until Claude was making frequent visits to Adam’s cell and two of them had something of an unusual friendship going on.
"If you keep coming down here like this, people will start to talk," Adam mused, the usual smug grin on his face. He was occupying himself with the meaningless task of tossing playing cards into a little box, although somehow, with him, even that looked organized and practiced, as if it was some sort of training exercise.
"Yeah, well if I have a choice between those who might be potentially crazy and the one person I know is crazy, I think I’ll stick with what I know, thank you," Claude shrugged.
Adam blinked. "Is that what they call me? I’m a little bit disappointed."
"You want something a bit more creative than ‘crazy old bastard?’" Claude smirked. "I can come up with a few. Ol’ Bob comes up with some pretty creative things sometimes."
Adam rolled his eyes and continued to flick cards at the box with a bemused expression. "Well, it’s to be expected. Aren’t most visionaries considered a little bit crazy?"
Claude scoffed. "Visionary," he repeated the word as if tasting it. "Is that what you call yourself?"
"Among many other things," Adam smirked. That was the sort of expression that scared people- it always seemed to make him look as if there were ancient and dark things lurking behind his eyes. There were, of course, but somehow the mere look, itself, caused more fright than the ideas behind it. "You know, Claude," he went on, not even looking at the other man in the room and instead remaining completely focused on his game, "the human race is the only creature on this planet that routinely hunts its own kind for sport."
Claude raised an eyebrow. "And where did that come from?"
Adam shrugged. "Just an observation." He looked up at the other man, an innocent look in his blue eyes as if this was merely a simple conversation between two men and not anything more sinister than that. "Do you think we- that is, people like you and I- count as human?"
"As opposed to being what?"
Again, Adam shrugged. "Something a little more than human. We have abilities that the rest of the race will never have. For all intents and purposes, we could very well be a completely separate race, and if that’s so... Do we really have to have the same proclivities? Must we really be forced to hunt down our own kind?"
"Ah, so your point emerges," Claude chuckled, but there was a hint of anxiety in his voice. Sometimes he had to wonder if perhaps Adam could read minds on top of everything else- he seemed to know exactly what to say to either get a man riled up or get him thinking.
"It’s getting to you, isn’t it? What you’re doing for this Company?"
"You’re one to talk, mate. You did the exact same thing once upon a time." Claude scuffed his feet against the floor and avoided looking Adam in the eye, his tone gruff.
Adam’s smirk widened. "Yes, but if I believed in that sort of thing anymore, do you think I’d be in here?"
Claude narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Adam for any sign of a hidden agenda or even a point to this whole conversation beyond the obvious and found nothing. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to find, of course. It just meant that Adam was doing a damn good job, per usual, of hiding it. "What’re you playing at?" He finally asked.
"Nothing at all," Adam replied innocently. "I’m just suggesting that perhaps a strategic career move would be beneficial to your health, because if the dissections aren’t keeping you up at night, the thought of what might happen to you when you cease to be useful to the Company should."
Claude opened his mouth to offer something akin to a protest, but somehow nothing that he knew for certain was true could be summoned up to contradict Adam’s offhand statement. Clearly, this was a subject he had never been forced to ponder before (even though the thought had always lingered in the back of his mind) and now that it was out in the open, it was pleasantly (from Adam’s perspective anyway) obvious that it would be on his mind for awhile now.
The so-called "invisible man" made some curt excuse to leave and Adam watched him go with an deviously amused smirk. It was almost too easy to plant the seeds of suspicion in someone’s mind these days given what sort of things the Company was plotting under the surface, and if he was going to escape any time soon, he was going to need people on his side outside these walls to help him, preferably people he could trust. Claude would serve that purpose quite nicely.
That is, of course, if he survived to get out. Adam hoped he did, because somewhere in his grey (he refused to believe, despite what Angela and his old "friends" said, that it was completely black) heart he rather liked Claude.
And, of course, there was always the fact that an invisible man could be quite the asset. Well, no one could ever say that befriending him didn't have its perks.