"Saving Her" - Chapter 1 - A Promise: A Heroes (Multi-Authored) Fanfic
White lights glistened from the bushes and trees they were strung around. Soft jazz music emanated through the door leading downstairs. A cool but refreshing breeze passed over Senator Nathan Petrelli as he pulled out a chair for his daughter, Claire. His hands rested on her lower back and shoulder as she went to sit. They exchanged a smile as he took a seat at the elegant table of a high-class Italian restaurant, taking in the atmosphere of the Washington skyline on the private rooftop terrace.
“All this for me,” Claire gestured around, “in this kind of classy place? As much as I liked getting to buy this dress,” she looked down at the chic black cocktail number she wore, rhinestones outlining the low cut and spaghetti straps, “are you sure it isn’t too much for a simple get together?”
“Nonsense,” Nathan flicked his hand, “You’ve been going to college in the same town I work in for months, and I haven’t been able to set aside time to see you. Being a Senator has its perks, you know, like easy access to private rooftop dinners. The only obstacle was convincing the staff that you were my daughter and not a date, but we shouldn’t be getting any unwelcome paparazzi. Just privacy.” He said the last word with emphasis and a sigh.
“Well, so far, I’d say it’s a hell of a lot better than Mexico,” she smiled and glanced down at the menu. “The only thing is, I’ve never eaten at a place so fancy. I’ve been living off the clichéd ramen noodles since I moved here.” She whispered, “What should I order?”
“Order whatever you like. Waiter,” he snapped his fingers and the man who was standing by the stairway approached the table, “could you please bring us a bottle of your best Pinot Noir?”
Claire’s head immediately jerked up at this request. Bad memories. The last time she’d drank Pinot Noir, she’d been forced by someone she’d rather forget. However, not wanting to object using this particular explanation, she whispered again when the waiter left, “I’m underage! What if they card me?”
“Please, Claire, you’ve been going to college for three months now; you’ve surely got a fake ID by this point. Not that you’ll need it; they’re not going to card my daughter. I’m a Senator and I could take it as an insult.” He picked up his menu, and casually added. “Besides, I think we both know that Mexico proved you can handle your liquor.”
She gave a little forced smile, and looked back to her menu as well. After several minutes of trying to decipher the names of the choices, she instead folded the menu, placed it on the table, and hesitated a minute before springing the question that she had been waiting to ask for days.
“This is all so nice, Nathan. Dad. Heh, Dad,” she corrected, as he’d insisted a month back. “I’m really grateful for all this. But on the phone, you sounded, I don’t know, like tonight had more of a purpose than just a daddy-daughter get-together.”
“Very intuitive, Claire,” he smiled and also placed his menu down. “I think you know what this is about.”
She sat there, silent, her expression giving away neither a “yay” nor a “nay.”
“It’s about your request to work for The Company. Claire, you’re just a young girl, not even really a woman yet...” he began before Claire’s face fell and she interrupted.
“Oh, come on! Please don’t give me the ‘I’m too young’ speech! That only works on people who aren’t going to be young forever, as far as we know, at least. You know I could be a real asset to The Company and you’re letting the fact that I’m family cloud your judge...”
Waving his hands, Nathan cut her off, “Claire Claire Claire, please. You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say...but, we could really use someone with your ability. As much as I care about you Claire, I’m able to set that aside and see your potential as an agent; not to mention what your blood could do for our injured men and women on the team! That’s why I’ve talked with your father and I think we came to a mutual understanding.”
Claire’s jaw dropped. “And?”
“And...we’ve agreed that you should finish your undergraduate degree, but taking the intensive Company training courses in the summer. We think you should have the choice of having a normal life, which is why you need to finish school, but if you decide by the end that you’re interested in the life of an agent, a job will be waiting for you when you graduate.”Nathan smiled.
Claire was silent as she mulled this over. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted; if it had been completely up to her, she’d drop school now and start working tomorrow. But it seemed that this was more than she realistically could have hoped for, considering how strongly both Nathan and her father had objected when she first proposed the idea. As she sat there, she began to realize a tear was sliding down her cheek.
“Hey...” Nathan reached over and wiped it away, and then gripped her hand.
“Thank you, Dad.” She finally said with a sigh and a smile.
“You’re welcome. I...I’m proud of you, Claire. I don’t know if I have the right to be, only being in your life recently, but I am.”
“Thanks,” she repeated and leaned over to hug him.
“Alright, alright.” He said as they both sat up properly and readjusted their clothing.
From behind them, the waiter dropped the wine bucket harshly on the table between the two of them. Ice flew out at both of them, hitting Nathan in the face and splashing drops of water over Claire’s new dress.
“Hey, hey, what the hell, man?” Nathan exclaimed as Claire squealed at the sensation of the cold water. As they both turned to look the man in the eye to voice their complaints, their mouths snapped shut and their heads jolted forwards against their wills. They could only see the silhouette of a face as it came into their peripheral vision.
“Hello, Senator Petrelli. How are you doing this fine...” he paused, and the man’s neck craned around to get a better look at Claire, “...Barbie?”
Using all of her strength, she tried to look the man directly in the eye. To her horror, her suspicions were confirmed. It was Eric Doyle, the puppet master, and her second worst nightmare.
“What are you doing here?” he asked incredulously. Slyly, he continued, “Are you up to the same thing as I am?”
He grinned, and with a hand gesture, her mouth unlocked. “Not likely. What are you doing here?”
“Revenge. Simply...revenge. I’m not sure if you know this, but this man is the reason you had to help me out a couple months ago, running from the government.” He looked at Nathan with loathing.
“Wait, Claire, you helped this man?” Nathan asked with horror.
“I thought you knew that,” Claire responded. “That’s the reason you had to come rescue me in the first place...I thought that’s the reason my free pass was up.”
“Your free pass was up because Danko pushed me out of a window and saw me fly. I knew you didn’t agree with what I was doing, but even so, he’s a psychopath and you knew that!” Nathan shouted before Doyle had realized in his surprise he’d accidentally let Nathan’s mouth loose too. Another gesture and the Senator was once again forcibly silent.
“Listen for a minute, Doyle. Yes, he was the one who started the program, but he also is the one who cleaned up his own mistakes and let everyone go.” Claire begged.
“Didn’t let me go. I’d been behaving after you helped me out; sure there were a few missteps here and there, but I had an honest job, and had been living as normal a life as I could have hoped. But his agents didn’t care about that. They almost got me back to some Level 5 like facility before they realized they hadn’t loaded me up with enough chemicals to keep a big guy like me sedated long.”
“You belong there, Doyle. You’re insane.” Claire spat.
“Nah ah ahhh,” he waved his finger, and as he did, both their fingers waved as well, “you shouldn’t be speaking to me like that right now. We’ve got serious business to deal with, Indestructo-Brat. Look.”
Both Claire and Nathan’s heads unwillingly moved to look into the wine bucket, where, on top of the ice, sat a gun. Both of their eyebrows shot up.
“Well, it’s less serious than it is a fun game! Where he dies. And you kill him. Didn’t know the blonde up here was you, Barbie, but thems the breaks.”
With those words, Doyle sealed up both their lips even tighter than before. Nathan’s legs jerked themselves towards the edge of the rooftop against his own volition and stood, back facing the alley below. Meanwhile, Claire’s fingers grasped the gun as tears streamed down her face. She rose, trying to resist Doyle’s influence, but it was all for naught as she soon found herself in front of Nathan, barrel aimed at his heart.
“I’ll allow some parting words. You clearly meant a lot to each other; romantic dinner and all. You must be close.” Doyle’s words dripped with innuendo.
As her lips unsealed again, she cried out, “He’s my father, you sick freak!! Don’t make me do this. Please! I helped you! Even when it went against everything I stood for, even when you tortured my mother and made her kill me, I helped you. Please. He’s my dad.” The last words came out as whimpers. She wished she could wipe her face, but her hands were not under her control.
“He’s your father? Is THAT why you got a free pass...” he hesitated for a moment, before his tone became quieter but sharper. “Is that why I was caught immediately after your ‘help’?”
Nathan’s lips also were freed. “I had nothing to do with your capture. I was already on the run myself when you were brought in.”
“But you kept me there when you got back to power, Senator.” Doyle moved forward, standing beside the pair, hands appearing to be mimicking theirs, though in reality, it was the other way around. “No. I think I’ll have your daughter kill you. And then, because she can’t die, I’ll have her hurl herself, silently, into the alleyway. And I’ll make her do it all over, again and again, until I get bored. And then I’ll take her home. I need a replacement dolly since my Meredith was so horrifically taken from me.”
Nathan showed no tears, but there was panic in his eyes. He tried to repress this as he looked at Claire, who was clearly breaking down mentally, even if she wasn’t allowed to collapse physically. “Claire, it’s ok...”
“No, please...” she balled, “....please, I can’t...I don’t want to...” she managed to angle her neck a degree towards Doyle. “I just got to have him the way I’ve always wanted...please...” she pleaded as she wailed.
“Too bad, Barbie. Do it.” Doyle said. Her sweaty finger resisted pulling the trigger, but his control took over, and she shot Nathan in the heart.
“DAD!! NATHAN!!” she screamed as his body collapsed to the rooftop floor with a thud and a moan. She saw the life drain from his eyes as he bled out. She managed to drop the gun, but was still frozen in spot. “YOU BASTARD!! YOU, SICK SON OF A BITCH!!”
“Blah blah blabbedy ZIP!” Doyle shouted over her cries, and once again, her mouth was shut. Using bizarre movements, he managed to force her to climb up on the ledge of the rooftop, and spun her around to face him. “This is what you get for fraternizing with the enemy...”
A cough coming from neither Claire nor Doyle interrupted his musing. Losing his hold over her due to lack of focus, both looked down to Nathan’s body.
Two unbelievable sights were occurring simultaneously before their eyes. One; Nathan’s body was moving, breathing, as a bullet seemed to push its way out of his chest. Two: Nathans skin was rippling, and slowly, his features morphed from the Senator to Claire’s first worst nightmare; Sylar.
“Oh. My. God...” Claire managed to breathe as she witnessed this horror unfold before her eyes.
“What the...?” Doyle said, also leaving the words hanging.
They both watched as Sylar looked around, apparently becoming self aware, and aware of his surroundings. Without moving his limbs, his body rose to stand. He looked at Claire, then back at Doyle. Raising an arm in each of their directions, invisible hands grasped around both their necks, though Claire merely remained in place while the Puppeteer choked.
“Claire’s mine.” He looked back at her with a wink.
“Mine to love...”
If Claire was capable of vomiting, she would have done so then, for several reasons.
“...mine to kill,” Sylar finished, echoing Doyle’s words from the last time they had interacted.
“Oh, god...” was all she could say, over and over. Even though his grip was still telekinetically latched to her neck, she was able to crouch down on the ledge; her mind could not absorb the situation. She began to rock, eyes darting between Sylar and Doyle.
“How did you...” Doyle asked through choked breath, dumbstruck. Then, his tone shifted, his hands moved, and he attempted to overpower Sylar once again with his ability. “You killed my Meredith! I think you’re going to be going alley-diving instead of Claire!”
Sylar’s arms hung useless in the air for about 10 seconds, but it was enough time for Claire to run along the ledge, jump onto the rooftop, and dash towards the stairs. As she ran, she could hear the exchange between the two killers.
“You weren’t strong enough to beat me then,” Sylar stated, and the sounds of Doyle choking could be heard again, “what makes you think you could take me now? I do have to thank you from releasing me from that wretched existence. It was like being in the backseat of my own body, seeing everything without any control of the wheels. But, you’re a threat to me, a threat to Claire, and, frankly, your power is fascinating...”
Claire was already down the bottom of the stairs by the time Doyle’s scream reached her ears. She ran through the restaurant haphazardly, knocking over tables and patrons until she got out the door. She hadn’t planned for this type of exit, as having heels proved. She cried, but she was so deep in shock, her feelings were completely detached from her body, which had kicked into survival-mode and forced her to flee as fast as she could.
How long has he been impersonating Nathan? Claire turned a corner. Was it just today? She tripped once, twice, and decided to stop long enough to ditch the heels. Oh god, is Nathan alright?! What if he...She dashed towards a bus, but it was already driving away. I need to call my father. He’ll know what to do. But she had left her purse back at the restaurant and she didn’t have any change. I’ll go back to my dorm, call Dad from there. Or Angela. Or Peter. Or someone. She switched directions and headed towards her campus. Oh god, his hand. On my shoulder, my arm, my back...he touched me. Again. The phantom nausea reappeared.
It was quickly replaced with a jolt as her body seized in mid stride, causing her form to fall against the road and her skin to peel off as it scraped across the pavement. Trying to get up, the skin on her face, arms, chest and legs heeled, but she could feel herself sticky all over with the blood that remained. She tried and failed to wipe it off on her dress, but immediately, her arms were planted at her sides, and like a marionette, her legs moved as if they were being pulled on strings. She was heading towards the nearest alley, and could do nothing about it.
As she entered into the darkness and her eyes adjusted, she could see Sylar’s form floating down from above. She was trapped. She’d been held by his telekinesis before; but this was different. This was Doyle’s ability. Doyle was dead.
“Hello Claire,” he said as he landed. He gave the smallest of waves, and to her surprise, her hand mimicked his instantly. “Huh. Isn’t that neat?”
“So, you killed him,” she stated, showing not one ounce of emotion.
“Well I really was quite intrigued to see how this worked,” he said as he swirled his wrist around and hers did the same. “It’s quite interesting. It’s much more personal than the telekinesis, which can be a positive or a negative, really. On one hand, mimicry can have its limitations if I want to control someone with a gesture or thought, while I’m busy doing other things. And, let’s face it; I’m often forced to multi-task.”
He took a step closer, as did she.
“However, having both our bodies making the exact same motions...” he said, moving his hand across his shoulder, forcing her hand to push her spaghetti strap off. Her body copied his as he stroked down his own arm. Her hand then involuntarily moved across her stomach, up between the crevice of her breasts and across the top of her chest, rubbing there a few times, much to her disgust and his amusement.
His arms jutted out, as did hers, and the both moved in to a tight embrace as she cried. She could smell his cologne. She could feel his entire body through his shirt, his hard stomach, his large arms, holding her there, demonstrating how trapped she truly was. As he stroked the small of her back, and she was forced to do the same, he said, “Well, this may have its benefits.”
“Stop,” she sobbed. “Please, stop.”
To her surprise and relief, he released her from the puppet-hold, and she pushed herself away. However, the freedom was short lived as the sensation of invisible hands snaking around her arms and legs returned, and she was forced against the wall. He’d given up puppetry for telekinesis.
“Why?” was all she could ask. There were so many questions packed within that one word.
“I just thought you might want to show a little gratitude for my saving of you from that monster back there,” he said with a grin, laughing at his own joke.
“Saving me? Saving me?! You’ve made it your mission to ruin my life at every possible turn. Hunting me, stealing my power, my pain,” she hissed. “You killed my best friend. My biological mother...”
“...your biological father,” Sylar casually chimed in with a head tilt.
Her jaw lay open for a minute. “Nathan...” She’d been crying for what seemed like an eternity, but at this revelation the tears seemed to be replaced with pure resolve. She had to ignore those feelings now; she had more pressing questions. “When? How? ... I...I watched you burn.”
“So did I. Yes, thanks to your daddy and your grandmommy once again meddling in my life, I’ve been playing the part of your bio-dad for 7 nights a week, three months running. Life’s no fun when you’re not in control of your own body, is it Claire? I’ve been in here,” he pointed to his head, “watching the wheels turn but having no say in which direction they went. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is for a control freak like me?”
Claire said nothing, and felt Sylar’s hold push her body harder against the bricks. Her dress was riding up her legs, and she tried to push it down by wiggling her torso, but it only achieved in making her look like she was grinding up against the wall. She’d have to endure another small humiliation.
“I’d been waiting for months for my powers to manifest; something to rattle Nathan’s persona into realizing that he was, in fact, me. And then you,” he mimicked pulling a trigger on a gun, “and your power kicked in, and so thanks to you twice, I get to be me again. How could I not repay you? Am I on the mantle with Peter now?” Sylar chuckled. “Do I get to be your hero, too?”
Claire choked out a laugh, “My hero? You think that makes you my hero?! You’ve taken everything, EVERYTHING from me! For the rest of our lives, how could you be anyone but the man who haunts my dreams?”
Sylar considered this for a moment as he paced back and forth, looking Claire up and down, “I knew you’d be mad at me for Nathan...but you’re right.”
“Mad at you? MAD?!” she screamed, but he sealed her lips and continued on as if there’d been no interruption.
“We’ve both got unnaturally long lives ahead of us, and our paths are bound to cross. Point of fact, I’ll make sure of it. This animosity you’ve got towards me is going to get tiring after a while. For both of us. We must do something about that. Hmm.” As he pondered, he began to shake his index finger, like a metronome, and followed the rhythm of it back and forth with his head. Coming to a decision, he stopped, snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “I’ve got it.
For what felt like the millionth time that evening, she was released from the external influence of another man’s control. She waited a moment to see if some other whammy was about to be put on her body, but nothing came.
“Pete or Noah won’t always be there to save the day. But if I am there, for you, I will. In fact, feel free to call on me if you need help.”
“Unlikely,” Claire grimaced. “You can’t be serious. More than half the time, the thing I need saving from is you!”
“Well, then, be relieved with the knowledge that you can cross me off your list of big baddies to worry about.”
“Oh, you’ll always be at the top of the list. Monster,” she spat the word like venom. “Even if I thought for a second you were actually going to live up to it, what about this ‘saving me’ plan makes you think I could ever come remotely close to forgiving you for everything you’ve done to me?”
“Simple. Quantity. Time, and quantity.” Sylar corrected. “First of all, that girl wasn’t your best friend; she was a bitch who stole your glory, your specialness. So let’s not pretend you mourn her. Second of all, they may have given you your life, but they were absent for 95% it, so I think it won’t take much time for you to get over the death of either one of your bio-parents. You think you won’t, but from experience I can tell you, it will take much less time than you think.”
“You’re wrong. Unlike you, I have a soul.”
Once again, Sylar continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “The only thing I’ve really taken from you is your ability, and nights like tonight prove that it might not be such a bad thing for your health that I can’t die. Did you really want to be his immortal doll? And let’s face it, Claire. You may be indestructible, but you’ve got a tendency to, time and again, get yourself into tight situations that can’t be helped by the ability to re-adjust a popped shoulder. Sooner or later, you’re going to need me. And then you’ll need me again. And I’ll save you, every time. I promise.”
Standing over her, looking down by more than a foot, he leaned in to kiss her, but with her movement back, she used her freedom to look away from him. So he stopped. Instead, he reached out, grabbed a lock of her hair in his hands. He felt the weight in his fingers, played with the smooth curls, really absorbing the texture. He lifted it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. Lavender, he noted. Just like last time.
Claire ignored this invasion of her space; her personal bubble had pretty much been shattered a dozen times tonight. She was starting to care less and less. It wasn’t her safety she was worried about anymore.
“And my father? And Angela? They did...that...to you. You can’t tell me you don’t want revenge, and once again, you’ll be taking away people who belong to me,” she queried through gritted teeth.
“Well, Claire,” Sylar practically hummed as he dropped her hair and used his finger to stroke her cheek, “I never made any promises about saving them.”
With those words, Sylar’s body lifted skywards and he disappeared into the night, leaving Claire to do what she her body had been aching but unable to all night; collapse to the ground, curl into fetal position, and weep.
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Chapter 2 by ewinfic now posted!! (It's phenomenal!)
Chapter 6 by ariana_paris is now posted. (It's wonderful. Don't worry about Chapters 3-5; when they're published, they'll fill inthe blanks between 2 and 6, but you could read 6 now).
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |...(possibly more to come)