(no subject)
Title: Define Dangerous
Characters: Sylar, Claire.
Spoilers: Up to Season 2.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2133
Chapter: 6/?
Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Summary: While escaping the Company, Sylar meets up with someone from his past. Together, they must piece together some semblance of normality after years of captivity. Future AU.
After four hours on the road, they'd stopped in at a quiet town, a sleepy little place west of the Arkansas border. Blue Ridge was a southern town with few roads, more farms and large sycamore trees. They were headed to New York City, though it would take many days to reach that metropolis. The next leg of the trip alone would take fourteen hours and that would only get them as far as Memphis.
For now the driving could wait. Sylar was more focused on the essentials. Claire needed a change of clothes and some shoes, so he lent her some money out of the bit that he stole. He could see in the way that Claire hesitated that she wanted to ask for more details about where he got his supply of cash. The mugging.
After the argument in the hotel, she was careful not to even broach those tougher subjects with him. Her survival instincts kept her quiet because she was helpless without him, a lamb lost in the woods that he could lead to slaughter if he wished. He liked it that way.
They also needed to get some gas for the Rogue, some lunch and a map. Sylar popped into the general store while Claire went off to do her shopping, hoping to kill two birds at the same time. Plus, the last time he went shopping with any woman was back when his mother used to pick out his clothes.
Sylar walked up to the register of the general store, purchases in hand. He rang the bell for the clerk, who was still in the back room taking a break. A small television set was set up on the far end of the counter. A news anchor was sitting behind a desk reading an urgent report in a deadpanned voice.
“These two fugitives are considered armed and dangerous. You should not attempt to apprehend them, or even approach them, if they are spotted. Clear the area and call your local police department if you come in contact with either of them.” A news anchor's voiceover played as two police sketches flashed across the screen; one of a young woman with blond hair, the other a man wearing a baseball cap with overly thick eyebrows.
Sylar grimaced. They'd drawn his nose wrong.
Despite his annoyance at their lack of artistic skills, there was still that old thrill creeping into him. They thought he was dangerous, powerful. He'd made it far from the pathetic, meek watchmaker's son. As he caught himself feeling downright gleeful at his murderous past, Sylar was glad Claire was off clothes shopping.
When she look up at him with those deep blue eyes of hers, demanding answers to questions she couldn't ask, all the things he loved in life lost some of their pleasure. The screaming of his victims and the way their blood made designs on the pavement seemed pointless. It was better when she was gone.
The screen changed to show a very blurry image caught on the hotel short-circuit security cam. It was like a scene from a science-fiction movie, with Sylar taking center stage displaying his powers as he destroyed five individuals. They fell before him, no match against his abilities. The fact that this was shown on prime time network news caught Sylar by surprise. Usually, Primatech did everything in their power to keep such things from going public.
“This footage was released to the public following the attack at the Hyatt Hotel. It is unsure whether this scene is a trick of lighting and camera work, or something more unexplainable. At the present time, this tape is being analyzed by experts in both the Odessa police department and various scientists in the--”
Sylar flicked the television off with his mind as the clerk finally returned to the store's counter. She hadn't seen anything on the news, he was positive of that as she smiled at him unsuspectingly. People around here didn't pay much attention to world news. Their view of life never went far beyond the boarders of their small town.
The young lady took her sweet time ringing his things up. He was accustomed to the slow pace of the south, after traveling through there many years ago but he wished she'd hurry. There were still many miles on their trip to travel.
The clerk clicked the keys of the cash register while raising her eyebrows. “Where ya'll from? You don't look like you're from around these parts.”
There was no mistaking the challenge in her voice. These small town people were quite clear on the no-freaks-allowed rules. Attempting to avoid her questioning, Sylar replied in a perfect southern accent. “I'm just from da next town over, a few miles east of heer. Thought I'd cume by `n see how things were. Been awhile since I've been outside of..." He glanced behind the clerk, where a map of the county hung on the wall. "Maplewood."
“You from Maplewood, then?” She handed him back his change, accepting his answer. “It's a pretty little town; second nicest this side of the Mississippi.”
“Dat it is, Ma'am,” he tipped his hat to her, grabbed his bag and shoved the money into it. The charade delighted him all the way to the car, putting an extra bounce in his step.
People were easily duped. They could be so easily misled by just the right lie said in the right tone of voice, a fine art he perfected through the ages. He could get them to eat out of his hand until the right time came and he snapped their naive necks.
Lucky for this small town, none of their deaths would aid him in his quest. Claire and Sylar would disappear as silently as they'd arrive. And Blue Ridge would never know what kind of danger lurked in their shops, on their streets and what kind of trouble they'd been saved from.
Claire was doing her best to finish shopping while simultaneously ignoring the two shop employees that were keeping careful tabs on her. They weren't even very clever about hiding their prying stares. Turning their backs to her, they'd return to talking in hushed tones and leave Claire with the creeping feeling that she was a bug under their microscope.
At first, she thought they were only worried about her stealing something. Claire knew she must look a mess. Even with the shower she'd taken back at the hotel she could probably still be mistaken for a wandering homeless individual. She didn't even have shoes yet, a fact she would soon correct.
She sighed as her ears picked up their conversation. Phrases like 'that girl over there' and 'what is her deal'. It was hard enough picking out clothes that actually fit and facing herself in the mirror after years of abuse, she didn't need these gossiping girls following her around. Memories of high school and Jackie's wannabe-popular hanger-ons rushed back into her mind. Claire couldn't help smiling because for one singular moment, things were almost ordinary.
As she headed into the fitting room, for the umpteenth time, Claire picked up more of their conversation and froze as the tiny bit of normalcy fled. “I'm sure that's da girl. I saw her photo when I was in da electronics store down da road. She's supposed ta be dangerous.”
“Did you notice she's not wearin' shoes?” The other pipped in and Claire was certain she should have seen to that part of her wardrobe first. “Don't cha think that's kinda funny?”
Claire ripped off the pink sweater she was trying on, her hair falling down around her face as she took it off. She shoved it into her other shopping bag, the one that held clothes she'd bought at the last store. She needed to leave. Somehow, she had to get back to the car without them seeing her.
She peeked up over the dressing room door, as they turned away to avoid getting caught in the act of watching her stall. Claire popped back down, cursing silently to herself. She knew she shouldn't have taken so much time today. Shopping was a vain luxury she should never have afford herself. Sylar told her to go get the things she needed and hurry back. They should be traveling to Memphis by now.
Claire wanted to pace to clear her head but the dressing room was too small. The walls seemed to be tightening, squishing out all logical thought. She needed a plan, a good one, one that would help her get out of there without the police showing up.
“Is evarything fittin' in there alright, Miss?” A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts of escape, startling her further. Claire backed up against the far wall of the changing room, not trusting her voice not to shake if she said she was fine.
Claire was finally about to squeak out an answer when she heard the sound of the employee being pulled away. The other one whispered to her friend. “Get over heer, Beth. Da news said ta stay away from her until da police arrive. They'll be heer soon.”
That was her cue to move.
With no clear idea of what exactly she was going to do, Claire darted out of the dressing room. The two employees jumped. She gave them a wide berth as she ran out of the the clothing store, only stopping to reach out to one of the racks of shoes. It was the last thing on her list of things to buy. She picked them up with one hand, shoving them in the bag of clothes she was already carrying. It was the first time in her life she had ever shoplifted.
Claire rushed across the street, sending cars screeching to a halt as she fled the scene. If any of the cars in traffic hit her, she would regenerate and keep on running. Sirens could be heard in the background, many blocks away. She wasn't sure if those were the ones coming for her or not. She glanced around once to see the employees standing outside the door, watching her leave.
She would always be a freak to ordinary people like these, always starred and pointed at like something not quite human. She would always be either on the run or hiding. She hated it.
The rattle of the passenger door as Claire banged on it woke Sylar from his sleep. He sat up, pulling the reclining driver's seat of the Rogue back into an upright position. He noticed where the noise was coming from and unlocked the passenger side door.
Claire climbed into the car, throwing a bag of clothes and shoes into the back seat. He watched her as the franticness in her features failed to relax. She was freaked and intended to stay that way. Slamming the door shut, Claire shouted one word at him. “Drive!”
Sylar put the keys in the ignition and the car into gear, not asking questions. He slammed on the gas pedal and jutted out of town. When they got past the main buildings of Blue Ridge and into the outskirts of town, he asked, “What happened back there?”
She stopped checking her rear view mirror and answered. “There were these two girls in the store I was shopping in. They called the police but I ran before they got there. I'm not sure if anyone followed me.”
Claire twisted around in her seat, trying to notice if any of the cars behind them looked suspicious. When she was finally content that no one was trailing them and they'd gotten out of town with their freedom still intact, Claire placed her head against the window of the car. “I'm sorry, Sylar. I didn't mean to take so much time. I didn't mean to almost get us caught either. I'm screwing everything up.”
“These things happen when you're on the road, Claire. Trust me, I've been hunted a lot longer than you have. Close calls make life interesting.” His grin slowly faded when he realized she didn't share his enthusiasm for the chase. “Why don't you take a nap in the back seat? I'll wake you when we get to Tennessee.”
She nodded and climbed into the back of the Rogue. The sun was setting and the light fading away. As the day slowly faded into night, Claire began to feel more comfortable in her skin. Escaping that last time gave her the strength to keep on going. Maybe Sylar was right about close calls. The walls around her were slowly breaking away, leaving her with a freedom that was far too sweet not to take a bite from.
...to be continued..
Characters: Sylar, Claire.
Spoilers: Up to Season 2.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2133
Chapter: 6/?
Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Summary: While escaping the Company, Sylar meets up with someone from his past. Together, they must piece together some semblance of normality after years of captivity. Future AU.
After four hours on the road, they'd stopped in at a quiet town, a sleepy little place west of the Arkansas border. Blue Ridge was a southern town with few roads, more farms and large sycamore trees. They were headed to New York City, though it would take many days to reach that metropolis. The next leg of the trip alone would take fourteen hours and that would only get them as far as Memphis.
For now the driving could wait. Sylar was more focused on the essentials. Claire needed a change of clothes and some shoes, so he lent her some money out of the bit that he stole. He could see in the way that Claire hesitated that she wanted to ask for more details about where he got his supply of cash. The mugging.
After the argument in the hotel, she was careful not to even broach those tougher subjects with him. Her survival instincts kept her quiet because she was helpless without him, a lamb lost in the woods that he could lead to slaughter if he wished. He liked it that way.
They also needed to get some gas for the Rogue, some lunch and a map. Sylar popped into the general store while Claire went off to do her shopping, hoping to kill two birds at the same time. Plus, the last time he went shopping with any woman was back when his mother used to pick out his clothes.
Sylar walked up to the register of the general store, purchases in hand. He rang the bell for the clerk, who was still in the back room taking a break. A small television set was set up on the far end of the counter. A news anchor was sitting behind a desk reading an urgent report in a deadpanned voice.
“These two fugitives are considered armed and dangerous. You should not attempt to apprehend them, or even approach them, if they are spotted. Clear the area and call your local police department if you come in contact with either of them.” A news anchor's voiceover played as two police sketches flashed across the screen; one of a young woman with blond hair, the other a man wearing a baseball cap with overly thick eyebrows.
Sylar grimaced. They'd drawn his nose wrong.
Despite his annoyance at their lack of artistic skills, there was still that old thrill creeping into him. They thought he was dangerous, powerful. He'd made it far from the pathetic, meek watchmaker's son. As he caught himself feeling downright gleeful at his murderous past, Sylar was glad Claire was off clothes shopping.
When she look up at him with those deep blue eyes of hers, demanding answers to questions she couldn't ask, all the things he loved in life lost some of their pleasure. The screaming of his victims and the way their blood made designs on the pavement seemed pointless. It was better when she was gone.
The screen changed to show a very blurry image caught on the hotel short-circuit security cam. It was like a scene from a science-fiction movie, with Sylar taking center stage displaying his powers as he destroyed five individuals. They fell before him, no match against his abilities. The fact that this was shown on prime time network news caught Sylar by surprise. Usually, Primatech did everything in their power to keep such things from going public.
“This footage was released to the public following the attack at the Hyatt Hotel. It is unsure whether this scene is a trick of lighting and camera work, or something more unexplainable. At the present time, this tape is being analyzed by experts in both the Odessa police department and various scientists in the--”
Sylar flicked the television off with his mind as the clerk finally returned to the store's counter. She hadn't seen anything on the news, he was positive of that as she smiled at him unsuspectingly. People around here didn't pay much attention to world news. Their view of life never went far beyond the boarders of their small town.
The young lady took her sweet time ringing his things up. He was accustomed to the slow pace of the south, after traveling through there many years ago but he wished she'd hurry. There were still many miles on their trip to travel.
The clerk clicked the keys of the cash register while raising her eyebrows. “Where ya'll from? You don't look like you're from around these parts.”
There was no mistaking the challenge in her voice. These small town people were quite clear on the no-freaks-allowed rules. Attempting to avoid her questioning, Sylar replied in a perfect southern accent. “I'm just from da next town over, a few miles east of heer. Thought I'd cume by `n see how things were. Been awhile since I've been outside of..." He glanced behind the clerk, where a map of the county hung on the wall. "Maplewood."
“You from Maplewood, then?” She handed him back his change, accepting his answer. “It's a pretty little town; second nicest this side of the Mississippi.”
“Dat it is, Ma'am,” he tipped his hat to her, grabbed his bag and shoved the money into it. The charade delighted him all the way to the car, putting an extra bounce in his step.
People were easily duped. They could be so easily misled by just the right lie said in the right tone of voice, a fine art he perfected through the ages. He could get them to eat out of his hand until the right time came and he snapped their naive necks.
Lucky for this small town, none of their deaths would aid him in his quest. Claire and Sylar would disappear as silently as they'd arrive. And Blue Ridge would never know what kind of danger lurked in their shops, on their streets and what kind of trouble they'd been saved from.
Claire was doing her best to finish shopping while simultaneously ignoring the two shop employees that were keeping careful tabs on her. They weren't even very clever about hiding their prying stares. Turning their backs to her, they'd return to talking in hushed tones and leave Claire with the creeping feeling that she was a bug under their microscope.
At first, she thought they were only worried about her stealing something. Claire knew she must look a mess. Even with the shower she'd taken back at the hotel she could probably still be mistaken for a wandering homeless individual. She didn't even have shoes yet, a fact she would soon correct.
She sighed as her ears picked up their conversation. Phrases like 'that girl over there' and 'what is her deal'. It was hard enough picking out clothes that actually fit and facing herself in the mirror after years of abuse, she didn't need these gossiping girls following her around. Memories of high school and Jackie's wannabe-popular hanger-ons rushed back into her mind. Claire couldn't help smiling because for one singular moment, things were almost ordinary.
As she headed into the fitting room, for the umpteenth time, Claire picked up more of their conversation and froze as the tiny bit of normalcy fled. “I'm sure that's da girl. I saw her photo when I was in da electronics store down da road. She's supposed ta be dangerous.”
“Did you notice she's not wearin' shoes?” The other pipped in and Claire was certain she should have seen to that part of her wardrobe first. “Don't cha think that's kinda funny?”
Claire ripped off the pink sweater she was trying on, her hair falling down around her face as she took it off. She shoved it into her other shopping bag, the one that held clothes she'd bought at the last store. She needed to leave. Somehow, she had to get back to the car without them seeing her.
She peeked up over the dressing room door, as they turned away to avoid getting caught in the act of watching her stall. Claire popped back down, cursing silently to herself. She knew she shouldn't have taken so much time today. Shopping was a vain luxury she should never have afford herself. Sylar told her to go get the things she needed and hurry back. They should be traveling to Memphis by now.
Claire wanted to pace to clear her head but the dressing room was too small. The walls seemed to be tightening, squishing out all logical thought. She needed a plan, a good one, one that would help her get out of there without the police showing up.
“Is evarything fittin' in there alright, Miss?” A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts of escape, startling her further. Claire backed up against the far wall of the changing room, not trusting her voice not to shake if she said she was fine.
Claire was finally about to squeak out an answer when she heard the sound of the employee being pulled away. The other one whispered to her friend. “Get over heer, Beth. Da news said ta stay away from her until da police arrive. They'll be heer soon.”
That was her cue to move.
With no clear idea of what exactly she was going to do, Claire darted out of the dressing room. The two employees jumped. She gave them a wide berth as she ran out of the the clothing store, only stopping to reach out to one of the racks of shoes. It was the last thing on her list of things to buy. She picked them up with one hand, shoving them in the bag of clothes she was already carrying. It was the first time in her life she had ever shoplifted.
Claire rushed across the street, sending cars screeching to a halt as she fled the scene. If any of the cars in traffic hit her, she would regenerate and keep on running. Sirens could be heard in the background, many blocks away. She wasn't sure if those were the ones coming for her or not. She glanced around once to see the employees standing outside the door, watching her leave.
She would always be a freak to ordinary people like these, always starred and pointed at like something not quite human. She would always be either on the run or hiding. She hated it.
The rattle of the passenger door as Claire banged on it woke Sylar from his sleep. He sat up, pulling the reclining driver's seat of the Rogue back into an upright position. He noticed where the noise was coming from and unlocked the passenger side door.
Claire climbed into the car, throwing a bag of clothes and shoes into the back seat. He watched her as the franticness in her features failed to relax. She was freaked and intended to stay that way. Slamming the door shut, Claire shouted one word at him. “Drive!”
Sylar put the keys in the ignition and the car into gear, not asking questions. He slammed on the gas pedal and jutted out of town. When they got past the main buildings of Blue Ridge and into the outskirts of town, he asked, “What happened back there?”
She stopped checking her rear view mirror and answered. “There were these two girls in the store I was shopping in. They called the police but I ran before they got there. I'm not sure if anyone followed me.”
Claire twisted around in her seat, trying to notice if any of the cars behind them looked suspicious. When she was finally content that no one was trailing them and they'd gotten out of town with their freedom still intact, Claire placed her head against the window of the car. “I'm sorry, Sylar. I didn't mean to take so much time. I didn't mean to almost get us caught either. I'm screwing everything up.”
“These things happen when you're on the road, Claire. Trust me, I've been hunted a lot longer than you have. Close calls make life interesting.” His grin slowly faded when he realized she didn't share his enthusiasm for the chase. “Why don't you take a nap in the back seat? I'll wake you when we get to Tennessee.”
She nodded and climbed into the back of the Rogue. The sun was setting and the light fading away. As the day slowly faded into night, Claire began to feel more comfortable in her skin. Escaping that last time gave her the strength to keep on going. Maybe Sylar was right about close calls. The walls around her were slowly breaking away, leaving her with a freedom that was far too sweet not to take a bite from.
...to be continued..