and then she'd say, 'it's okay, i got lost on the way, but i'm a supergirl and supergirls don't cry'

Apr 08, 2011 00:34

Up until now, everything's been easy. As strange as it might be for most people to imagine, Claire Bennet's leap off the Compound has been the best thing that's happened to her yet on Tabula Rasa. Maybe it isn't the healthiest- after all, where the leap from the Compound was supposed to help her shed that mask, come face to face with all that fate' ( Read more... )

coraline jones, cassie sandsmark, kon-el, peter parker, peeta mellark, sam witwicky, eden mccain, edmund pevensie, jacob black, zuko, betty rizzo, cissie king-jones, arya stark, olive penderghast, hiccup, chris miles, mary jane parker

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Comments 264

lonewolflives April 9 2011, 04:51:23 UTC
"What the fuck, Claire?"

Arya had never made much pretence of being other than blunt.

She wasn't talking about the way Claire was prodding at the bandages, because that's an impulse she understood, or thought she did; testing the limits, reminding oneself of where the pain was, what it was like. She'd poked enough of her own bruises in her time, stretched against tired or damaged muscles.

No, she meant the leap itself, which as far as she could tell had no apparent purpose. And maybe that look in her eyes; Arya was fairly good at reading people, translating the way a face moved in all its unconscious ways into meaning, but she couldn't figure out the context in which that expression made sense.

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lucked April 9 2011, 12:36:39 UTC
Claire's eyes squeezed closed as soon as the words registered. Of course she was being scolded. Were Claire herself in Arya's shoes, she had the feeling that she would have been bouncing off the walls with concern, pacing around the room- all things considered, maybe Arya was already showing a great amount of restraint. Or maybe, a smaller voice in the back of Claire's head sounded, maybe she was able to see more of Claire than the teen ever intended. Maybe the lie was just growing thin, and it was really her own damn fault.

"Hey," she replied in a voice slightly hoarse from disuse, trying for a smile, one that didn't quite make it there. At the very least, she could wave for Arya to come closer, pull a hand out from under the covers and hold it out to the other teen, beckoning. "Sorry."

Whatever excuse for a smile there'd been, it faded away entirely as Claire tried for her next words. "I... I slipped?"

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lonewolflives April 10 2011, 00:40:28 UTC
Arya sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in a little, squinting at Claire's face, frowning. Trying to decide how far she bought that particular explanation. It seemed viable, the sensible reason; what other logical cause could there be, after all? But somehow, she had her doubts.

"You slipped," she repeated, trying out the words. "You were on the compound roof and you just... slipped?"

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lucked April 10 2011, 15:48:55 UTC
The fact that Arya kept on leaning in with those watchful eyes of hers, as though trying to spot any change or giveaway, had Claire squirming in her bed. Because there had been a part of her which kept on remarking, every time that she made a friend, that Claire was being dishonest. That she was deliberately hiding part of herself from those friends, and that could only mean that she didn't trust them enough. Which wasn't fair. They'd given her every reason to think that they cared for her, that they would have been able to overcome just about any hurdle.

She was just afraid.

"I..." Claire blinked up at Arya, then looked down, then closed her eyes altogether as a hand rubbed over her forehead, her entire body still aching from the effort it took to move. "I've been slipping for some time, Arya, but it's not- it's not how it looks. I just needed to find something out, and I did, and now I'm done."

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wishesandsmoke April 9 2011, 06:15:54 UTC
"If you weren't already injured, I'd shake you so hard," Eden says when she's allowed in from the hall where she's been pacing for what feels like days. Claire may not be all she has, the only friend left to her, but there are days she damn near feels like it and she is, at all times, family. The thought of her being hurt like this, of putting herself in the position to accrue this kind of damage, it turns Eden's stomach (it's not just the fact of family, a thing she's had little of in her life - it's that she gave that life for a reason, has this one only by the thinnest stroke of luck, could lose it again just as fast. Taking that kind of a risk isn't something that sits easy with her for so many reasons, but that has to be one of them: under the concern and the way it hurts to see Claire like this and the anger of a parent disobeyed, there's a thread of fury that she could take this for granted, no matter what she's been in the past). Instead of taking a seat in the conveniently located chair, she perches on the edge of the bed, ( ... )

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lucked April 9 2011, 12:41:15 UTC
Of course Eden would be among the first to show up, Claire thinks to herself as soon as she hears the voice filter in from the entrance of the room. In a way, it's a good thing. Now, she doesn't have to lie, to twist her way around the matter of what she is (no, she reminds herself now, what she once was). And that in of itself is so freeing that Claire manages a breath, although all too quickly, it turns into a half-stifled sob as she reaches out for Eden, her fingertips reaching for a hand. An embrace. Anything. But on the other, it shatters her with crippling guilt, too, the fact that Eden might now have the impression that her supervision wasn't enough. And it isn't that ( ... )

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wishesandsmoke April 9 2011, 20:09:57 UTC
Eden slips an arm gingerly around her, holding onto Claire's hand, but she lets out a sharp breath and another, like she can't quite catch her own. "Have you even once seen me use mine?" she asks. She doesn't give a fuck who hears her, honestly, since the revelation of her own abilities isn't something she's worrying about just now and it's not much of a secret anymore anyway, but she keeps it down for Claire's sake, not wanting to raise her voice anymore than she can help. This, maybe, is what it feels like to be a parent, because she wants to scream, but the anger is, for the most part, rooted in terror. She's not sure she's been this rattled in her whole goddamn life, except once, except opening her eyes on the beach.

Struggling to soften her tone (she used to be so good at that), she draws her fingers through the girl's hair. "Claire, it's everyone. You could have talked to me about this, you know that, right? Why did you do it?" Not knowing isn't the same as a reason; it's just an excuse, a cushion, an oh, it's okay because -

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lucked April 9 2011, 21:58:50 UTC
Even though Eden hasn't used specific descriptors, Claire's eyes still widen as she shakes her head, her arm lifting with some difficulty and an index finger pressed to her lips. The most frustrating part of it all is that she can't even muster enough breath to hush Eden without sounding out of breath, like she can't get enough oxygen into her lungs to upgrade from a wheeze to a hiss. "Shhh," she pleads, the tears already spilling over, leaving Claire feeling pathetic, feeling herself break even more quickly than her body has this time, and the sudden way that she misses her father practically winds her altogether. "No, but... you wouldn't, you wouldn't want to, and you've got that choice. I never ( ... )

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getemtiger April 9 2011, 06:57:13 UTC
Mary Jane had far more experience with the clinic than she liked. Two months spent there at Peter's bedside after Norman's attack, after the yacht party - if she had her way, she would never have had to set foot in there again, aside from visiting Meredith during her shift. Of course, having thought that only made her all the more aware of the inevitability of it, something she'd signed on for when she married Peter; it was practically part of the job description, a risk that would always be taken. She had just never expected it to be someone else she was going to see ( ... )

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lucked April 9 2011, 12:45:52 UTC
The familiar sight of red hair in the distance made Claire's stomach twist. More than anyone else she'd met on the island, Claire trusted Mary Jane, loved Mary Jane, thought the world of her and never wanted to let her down. But the difficult thing, sometimes, in dealing with someone so patient and strong, was that their smiles hid a great deal. The soft tone of their voice made everything quiet, hidden, Claire finding it impossible to fully read Mary Jane's thoughts on the matter. All she knew was that her cheeks were feeling warm, uncomfortably so, and Claire knew better than almost anyone that it was a tinge of something like shame.

She squirmed, with some difficulty, in her bed.

"Hey," she replied at last, glad that it was easy enough to return that greeting as given. Unable to turn fully toward Mary Jane, Claire allowed her head to rest on the pillow, licking her lips, offering a tentative smile. "...honestly? I'm- I'm feeling pretty guilty. But also really... really amazing. And I don't mean because of the meds."

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getemtiger April 10 2011, 00:43:04 UTC
"You mean because..." Mary Jane trailed off, lips pressed together in a knowing expression, not quite a smile. It was, she was pretty sure, confirmation of what she had suspected from the start, and that, in its way, was bizarrely reassuring. At least there had been no other intent behind it; at least this wasn't a horrible accident that Claire had to deal with the result of. The logic behind such a statement, she could even almost understand, though it was about as far from her experiences with Peter as it was possible to get. She remembered, though, what Claire had said when she'd told her about her ability back home, how she'd described herself as a freak. Of course there would be appeal in this. Mary Jane just had to wish that it hadn't had to go so far. Voice lowering slightly, she glanced toward the door, then leaned in. "Because you didn't just get better."

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lucked April 10 2011, 15:48:43 UTC
Her lower lip quivered as Claire nodded, wished that she could push herself off of her mattress, reach out for the hug from Mary Jane that she so desperately wanted. She wanted something tight, an embrace so tight that it'd hurt, one that shielded her from everyone, everything, every thought. But her body wasn't in the shape for it, and as comforting as that was on the whole, it also left Claire feeling a little cold, where she sat. But she nodded, and wiped furiously at the tears which kept on threatening to fall, and tried to keep her voice quiet enough to prevent passerby from overhearing.

"Yeah," she confirms. "I think... you know, I think that a part of me knew, or suspected, or... I never heard directly from anyone, that my ability wouldn't work here on the island, but so many people told me about how their disappeared; I can't have completely blocked that out. But I wouldn't know until I tried. Maybe I should have gone for something smaller, like. Stapling myself."

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floozyfacade April 9 2011, 07:33:54 UTC
It's not like she's never been in a hospital. The Penderghast children have had their share of breaks and sprains, of childhood complaints, and Olive's as guilty as Kale of getting into scrapes, though she's escaped the stitches he's brought on himself on more than one occasion. All of that, though, is nothing to this, and when she enters the clinic, it's with an unusual degree of trepidation. Claire's hurt, badly hurt, and though she doesn't look as upset or worn down as Olive might have expected, she's still bandaged and bruised, lying in that bed, and it's terrifying. They say the Compound isn't high enough that the fall could kill someone, but that isn't true. Height has a lot to do with it, but it's the impact that counts, and she's reasonably sure the right - the wrong - angle could have been the end of her friend.

Edging around the bed, she pulls the seat closer as she eases into it. "Claire, my God," she says, "what happened? Is there anything I can do or, or get for you or - ?" She shakes her head, abrupt, not sure what she' ( ... )

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lucked April 9 2011, 12:53:16 UTC
Claire hates thinking about things like normalcy. Hates having to label things as regular or irregular, hates the fact that for all of the wonderful, horrific, miraculous, and impossibly strange things that have happened to the people on the island, that it still casts everyone onto some sort of scale, like there's now an ability to compare the weight of what one's experienced. Claire hates it. Doesn't want to think of her life as any more or less burdening than anyone else's, because in the end, what matters are the emotions, and less the events. But make no mistake, she considers that scale as much as anyone else ( ... )

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floozyfacade April 9 2011, 20:40:40 UTC
"Okay," Olive says, nodding quickly, trying not to let that shed tear panic her any. Nothing about this is okay, nothing is fine, not when Claire's in this condition, but it will be. She reaches for her hand before she thinks about whether or not that, too, is hurt, and leans over on an impulse to kiss the other girl's cheek. It just takes time, she reminds herself, and whatever could have happened is less important than where they are now - and bad as that is, it's something Claire can come back from easy, given time. Maybe not as easy as all that, when it looks painful, but it's still only a matter of time.

"You scared the hell out of me," she admits. "God, we need to put, like, some serious railings up there or something, like they had on Mardi Gras, so things like this don't happen." Somehow the idea of it is even worse than the idea of people vanishing. Olive may not be accustomed to the idea, but it's common here, people just up and disappearing, but in a place like that, anything more ordinary is somehow alarming for its

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lucked April 9 2011, 22:03:02 UTC
The fact that Olive just goes along with the explanation, not pressing, not prodding, just makes Claire feel worse. She tries to go with it for a while. Offers a wan smile to agree with everything that Olive says, that they need better railings up there, so that people don't, god forbid, end up sleepwalking their way off. It only strikes her now that she's sitting in the hospital, how much worse things could have been. A couple of broken ribs and punctured lung aren't really much, in the grand scheme of things. The thought sends a shiver through Claire's body and her eyes shut suddenly, tightly, a hand covering her mouth as she chokes back a sob, shaking her head ( ... )

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irisewiththesun April 9 2011, 07:49:25 UTC
It's been two weeks and the stitches are out now, the gash Seifer made healed as much as it will, leaving a long, angry scar that stretches across the top of Zuko's chest. Scarring is nothing new for him, and he's never been self-conscious about his face, so he's not about to start with this one. It's mostly hidden anyway, just a small section visible due to the v-neck t-shirt he's got on.

He definitely didn't think he'd be going back to the clinic this soon.

Zuko's got a scowl on his face when he walks in and stands at Claire's bedside, one that has nothing to do with his own recent experience and everything to do with how she's landed herself in here in the first place. "What were you thinking?" he says angrily, keeping his voice low and tightly controlled in an effort not to yell and get kicked out by a doctor.

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lucked April 9 2011, 12:59:40 UTC
There's a part of Claire that worries as soon as Zuko says those words. What were you thinking? It's a question that could just hint at Claire's stupidity, hanging so close to the edge of the Compound roof, where the slightest lack of care would indeed have her plummeting down, by choice or not. But something about it strikes Claire as a deeper inquiry, as one that hints at the choice in Claire's hands, the consciousness that she's approached all of that situation with. It makes the guilt turn over, over, and over again in her stomach as she sinks further into the bed with a soft gasp, because she's not so sure she's expected this from Zuko. He's always been kind, before ( ... )

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irisewiththesun April 9 2011, 14:47:06 UTC
He just looks at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched, trying to figure out what his uncle would say right now but he can't think past what he'd like to call anger but what he knows is worry. "I don't buy it," he says finally, shaking his head. "You're not that careless."

He doesn't know what's going on - it's pretty hard to kill yourself from ten feet up, and Zuko is pretty sure that wasn't her intent - but something's up, and he can't figure out what.

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lucked April 9 2011, 22:07:29 UTC
Claire refuses to look away. His eyes, more brightly colored than she first realized, are fixed on her, and she refuses to turn herself away. Because that's a sign of weakness. That would give him more reason to worry. Maybe if she just makes it clear that she's fine, that nothing's wrong, that she'll get by without a problem at all, then he'll drop the topic before it gets to the matter of her former healing capabilities. What it all really meant for her, back home.

But he's already seeing through her lies, apparently. Claire pulls her arms to herself, tries to cross them over her chest before the sudden sting of pain keeps them at her sides after all. "Does it even matter? It was really late at night, and it just... happened, but it's not going to happen again," she insists. "Okay? I'm not going to go wandering on the Compound roof at night again."

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