The Devils You Think You Know - Chapter Twenty Four
Title: The Devils You Think You Know
Rating: High T to Low M
Status: Complete
Summary: Take a look into the life of Claire Benett from the exposed future. How did she become so cold? Why did she want Peter dead? How does Sylar and his son factor into all of this?
Author: 1bill_sookie (tfbl)
Disclaimer: not mine.
Section Two: Chapter Eight
PART ONE
When the news reaches the small homeless village that has been their home for five months now at first no one believes it, least of all Claire and Gabriel. They can’t believe it because surly it is impossible, the mere notion defies every thought and action, every murder committed and all the emotions they forced themselves not to feel… everything about their way of life for almost 20 years. As the hours turn into days, as the news continues pour in, as more and more people leave the village and return unharmed… people began to believe it.
Sometime within the past week every law regarding those with inborn powers has been abolished, from the documents legalizing the camps, to the unconstuntial seizes of individuals, to the horrifying torture and experimentation. Every fear and nightmare that has plagued the mind of people worldwide is no longer valid, and organizations such as Pinehurst and the Camps have been elimated from every country in the world. People no longer have to flee their home, live in underground pipes, fear for the lives of their family, and choose between murdering their child or watching them be taken away. People like Emma, the red haired toddler with a knife sticking out of her chest, and the 7,082 agents who were captured two years ago are not thought to be “animals” any longer.
Some, those that have not lost everything that mattered or experienced fear, anger, and hopelessness every day for the past decade and a half believe it instantly. They do not need tangible proof, something that must be seen as one must see a unicorn before the animal becomes a reality, nor do they require confirmation that they can hear with their ears, as an African American once had to not hear “nigger” or “coon” before they understood they would never again suffer the degoration of their parents and ancestors.
Others, the father who had lost his children and the boy that had felt never ending waves of terror, the young woman who had learned to kill with ice in her eyes… those who have fought until their hands were broken and bloody all the while never daring to scream… those people require so much more then mere word of mouth. They needed evidence in the absence of the trucks traveling the street, in the ceasing of their nightmares, and when they finally knew for certain that their screams would be heard.
When the truth finally sinks in that they no longer have to run from the government or those like Danko, that they can live in an actual house without worrying that they will awaken to find guns aimed at their heads Gabriel and Claire are stunned into silence. It’s not that they had thought that this day would never come, they knew it would just as every war throughout history had eventually ceased for one reason or another. Now that it has however neither of them know what to do, let alone feel. Gabriel and Claire had been fleeing, hiding, living in fear and serecery, and killing for so long take it had become second nature to them. Will they know how to hold down a job where wearing a gun and knife is not required? How strange will it feel to live in a house for seven, perhaps ten years without packing up and leaving in the middle of the night because their lack of ageing had become too noticeable? Will they buy a home surrounded by people, or will force of habit compel them to live in one where the closet neighbor is thirty miles away?
Claire looks at her friend, whose face is enveloped by shocked disbelief as he stands beside her, disregarding the heat radiating from their box and the screaming, sobbing crowd around them. She takes his hand, allowing a smile to cross her face when he focuses on her, letting him see that despite the mirrored apprehension Claire knew he could see on her face she was glad that it was finally over.
Where will they go now? As they look around them both know that they do not want to stay in Mexico, nor do they want to settle somewhere such as Europe or Greece. In truth all they really want to do is go home, back to the United States where English is their birth tongue, eating chicken is more common that roasting a cat, and the average pay is more then two dollars an hour.
Thankfully getting there will not require a car, money, or long hours of patience, all of which neither of them posses. Three weeks ago Gabriel had empathically absorbed a teleportation ability, meaning that they can be in the States in a matter of seconds.
Suffice to say teleportation is a fairly easy way to travel, with only a slight sensation of dizziness accompying it. Claire is grateful for this as they land in the middle of a tightly packed crowd in Kirby Plaza, New York. If the feeling of disorientation had been any stronger she would probley have toppled over, crashing into the red haired man next to her and causing everyone else to fall over like a line of dominions. As it is no one notices their abrupt arrival save for a frighten pigeon, for the whole crowd is one angry mass. There are men and woman in business suits and fashionable hairstyles, those that are dressed in UPS uniforms or t-shirts and blue jeans, and those like Claire and Gabriel who are donning soiled clothes and oily hair. Despite this clear diversity of not only economic and social class, but most likely illegal’s, non-illegal’s, and “unpowered” individuals as well they all appear to be in a similar mindset. There are angry shouts ringing out, fists and picket signs raised high above their heads as they face the fountain and a tall podium of twenty men, who judging by the images of different flags behind them are meant to be the repesantives of foreign nations.
The purpose of this meeting is lost on Claire however, for after living so long in what was comparison dead silence the jumble of raised voices and the loud echo of a heavily accented voice issuing through a microphone is causeing her to become overwhelmed. Her mind is apparently trying to compensate for the abrupt shift in the noise level as all of the voices reach her ears simountenstly in a meaningless babble of noise, leaving her unable to determine if this crowd is for or against this new law of “we were jackasses and those who are born with powers are not worthless animals”, or if they all are protesting the slaughter of a saceraite cow in India.
Claire feels Gabriel’s hand gripping her arm, and through her wince she catches sight of his face, tense and strained as he teleports them away again.
This time they land in a loft which Claire recognizes as once having belonged to Isaac Mendez, and more recently Mohinder Suresh. Thankfully the loft is empty not only of the horribly mutated and dangerous scientist, but the spider like webs hanging from the walls, rotting food and old medical equipment, and the large floor based mural of New York exploding. In fact the only things residing in the loft is a thick layer of dust, a few beams of low sunlight streaming in through the boards on the windows, and a couple cockroaches making their way across the floor.
“I’m assuming that this is the first place that popped into your head?” Claire asks as she uses her finger to wipe away some dust on the railing, the shiny steel a contrast to the gray residue covering it.
“Yes. I don’t know why, as I’ve only been here twice before.” Gabriel says as he walks down the steps, turning in a slow circle in the middle of the spacious floor.
Claire makes her way over to the large window area to the left of the door, inspecting the dead flies and mice droppings on the windowsill, finding such a common New York sight surreal after two years of seeing decomposing animal carcasses and used heroin needles.
“You most likley remembered that you spent two days here without being found. You recalled a feeling of safety or something.” Claire remarks distracdly, her attention more focused on looking carefully around for the offending mouse so she can throw her hole filled shoe at it (seriously, she’s sick to death of those stupid little rodents).
Gabriel nods and gives a “Mmm” of agreement as he continuines to walk slowly around the loft, his eyes closed and his head cocked to the side. If Claire were to guess what exactly he’s doing, she would say that he’s enjoying how he can actually move without bumping into someone carrying a skinned dog as well as listening to make sure no one has heard their arrival. When two minutes pass and there’s no appearance of fire in Gabriel’s hands Claire figures it’s safe and makes her way around the loft, seeing for herself what they have to work with. For the most part except for a bathroom and an empty kitchen area the loft is all one room, the numerous windows no doubt making it appear bigger then it actually is.
After a few more minutes of loft appraising Gabriel sits down underneath a boarded up window, placing the old backpack containing Noah’s photo album that Claire had not noticed before now on the floor beside him. Claire walks over to him, Gabriel spreading his arms as she settles down in the V of his legs and leans against his chest, Gabriel’s arms folding over her stomach and holding Claire against him.
Claire closes her eyes and relaxes against her friend, feeling safe despite the chaotic world around them. Soon Claire begins to feel herself drifting off, which doesn’t surprise her seeing as she hasn’t gotten a goodnight’s sleep in three years, not to mention the sudden change in her and Gabriel’s cardien rhythms.
“Do you think it’s really over? All of it?” Claire asks, her sleepy voice loud in the large and empty loft.
“Yeah, I think it is. For the most part anyway.” Gabriel mumbles, his voice groggy as well.
There is an abandoned dust covered loft on the upper side of Manhattan. A loft that had once held paintings of the future, a bloody corpse, and the human result of an experiment gone wrong. Now it only contains two people who have traveled across the country to avoid prosecution, who have been called “unnatural” and lived in a car and a sweltering metal box, and who choose one hell over another only for one of them to exist in the midst of the very hell she was fighting to escape. They are asleep now, the dark haired man holding the blonde woman in his arms as she nuzzles her face against his chest. In spite of everything they have endured and every danger they have faced they feel safe now, for they can hear the heartbeat of the one whom they would be lost without.
TBC