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The Sixth Extinction

Character(s): Gabriel "Sylar" Gray and Claire Bennet
Summary: Building 26 is never shut down. No one convinces the president that it's best to just drop the matter of evolved humans, and Danko is given cart blanche to deal with the super-powered threat as he sees fit. In the next century the Evolved are hunted to the brink of extinction, either out-right exterminated, or imprisoned and exploited for their ability. The number of specials used in this way grows fewer and fewer as time and mishaps progress, but one type is still coveted above all. Exterminating a regenerator is exceedingly difficult, anyway...
Status: In progress/PRIVATE

...all my foolish, fuckin' wishing...Collapse )


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Page 6 of 104
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Dec. 2nd, 2009 07:31 am (UTC)
"I have tried..." he took a slow breath and uncoiled further, releasing her slowly. His hands slid down her arms, fingertips catching hers briefly before he stepped back. "I was trying, this time." But of course none of his efforts ever seemed good enough.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 07:35 am (UTC)
Claire collapsed to the floor, curling into herself and trying not to sob.

"Not hard enough..." She whispered, more to herself than him. "I can never forgive you for what you did to me." She said louder, more directed at him. "You practically raped me... for no reason other than greed."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 07:58 am (UTC)
"Of all of the abilities I took, yours had the least to do with greed," Sylar answered, just standing without looming, without trying anyway. "That vulnerability you felt before me, that powerlessness and violation? I know what it was, because that is what the Company did to me. Never mind which agents were involved.

"There was something out there larger than me, that saw me for what I was when I was most ashamed of it, and they exploited that for their own means. Knowing there was someone with an ability that could at least guarantee my life? I was desperate for that. More so after spending time in their custody. After Shenoy you understand what that's like."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:04 am (UTC)
"This is my curse." Claire spat easily. "I wish I could die, but to do that, I'd have to off myself. Can't do it gracefully."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:11 am (UTC)
"Keep pushing," Sylar's eyes narrowed in anger once again, sick and fucking tired of his words falling on her damned deaf ears. "Maybe someday I'll do you the favor."

He didn't wait on her reply and he didn't pick her up before he left the bathroom. He walked straight through the bedroom and out to the kitchen, putting on the kettle to make some tea. He needed to cool his head, and chamomile was one of the best ways he knew to gather himself.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:17 am (UTC)
"THEN DO IT!" She screamed as he walked away from her. "GROW UP AN DO IT! I DARE YOU!" And she meant it. There was no reason for Claire to stay on this earth. No need for her to live any longer. All of the people she loved and cared for were dead and buried a long time ago and all of the people she knew now didn't have a clue who she really was.

"Please... do it..."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:23 am (UTC)
He heard her and he ignored her. He could lose his temper badly enough to bruise and break her and probably even 'kill' her, but end her immortal life...? No. He was too selfish, needed her too much, even just the concept of her. Even if she escaped his home and disappeared into the world, he needed her there. He just needed to not be alone.

For that reason he could put his anger and frustration away, bury it down inside and concentrate on making his tea. While the kettle boiled he began contemplating lunch. Claire needed to eat.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:30 am (UTC)
"coward..." Came Claire's too small, sad voice from the bathroom. She stayed on the floor, unable to get the strength to pull herself back up. Honestly, she couldn't wait to get away from him. She hadn't been this upset in years. "Stupid coward..."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 08:44 am (UTC)
By the time he came back he'd drank two cups of tea and fixed curried chicken salad sandwiches for both of them. He brought the plates into the bedroom, setting them on the bedside table, then looked down at Claire, head canted to the side.

It wasn't difficult to tell she'd lost will, drenched in tears the way she was. Which meant it would be more difficult to get her to do things of her own volition, and that meant taking control, something which, at this point, he had no qualms about.

"You really should be resting," he told her curtly, gesturing to take hold of her collapsed form and pick her up off the floor, then move her straight back to the bed. He left her sort of bundled up the way she'd been, gathering the pillows to prop her up and sliding the covers away before he put her down. All without leaving the spot where he stood.

When he had her settled in with the covers drawn back around her hips he sat down in the chair once more, his movements a bit expansive with lingering anger. He looked something like a wicked king taking his throne.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 09:02 am (UTC)
Claire didn't say anything. She just kept her eyes closed ad tried her best not to be completely repulsed by the way he was handling her. She hated it when he used his telekinesis on her. It was so cold and lacking humanity... just like him.

"I'm not hungry." She said, voice back to the colorless tone she used with him to start. Without another word, she rolled over and ignored him, closing her eyes and willing sleep. She didn't want his help anymore. She didn't want to be anywhere near him.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 09:08 am (UTC)
"You need to eat," he told her firmly, and when she ignored that simple statement he added, "The longer you resist the more time you'll spend in that bed, putting up with me. Given I'm not going to kill you, that's your next best recourse."
Dec. 2nd, 2009 09:15 am (UTC)
Claire sighed, not really listening to him. He was right, but she ignored him anyway. Her hunger was gone. All because he'd fucked with her emotions, again. When would he learn that he was the fire to her fuse. Nobody could throw her off as much as he could.

A long while went by before she was forced to roll over and eat, her stomach eventually reminding hr that no matter how upset she was, she needed the food. She took her sandwich and turned away from the brunette in his chair, not wanting anything more to do with him. Every time they tried to communicate, they pushed each other's buttons.

The moment she could stand on her own two feet long enough to walk across a living room, she was going to vanish. Claire didn't want to have to depend on Sylar any longer than she could prevent. She could feed and fatten herself without his help once her muscles remembered that they were supposed to work.

Walking equaled leaving. So Claire decided that she would try to walk as often as she could to build up her strength as quickly as possible.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 09:35 am (UTC)
She picked that sandwich up probably two minutes before he lost his patience and made her eat it. He'd finished his own nearly by then and after he had done he put his plate away. He moved about the apartment quietly for a while, trying to sort through the mad, tumultuous thoughts in his head.

He was still mad as hell. She infuriated him, the way she refused to let go of this thing, even after so much time. Even allowing that the hurt of it could run so deep it refused to heal, she wouldn't even acknowledge that he might have known something akin to that. He might have turned out twisted this way not because he enjoyed the blood and pain and fear, but because he'd been damaged. Because something had happened that had broken him, too.

All she saw was a monster. She hadn't the least bit of pity or understanding, God forbid, lest she have to open herself to the possibility of empathizing with the man who'd hurt her. She set herself so high above him, and he hated being looked down on.

Needing another distraction he turned to music, putting on a playlist of now practically ancient alternative. It was one of the things that drew funny looks from people when he admitted to liking it. What could he say? He had a thing for the turn of the millennium. A history buff.

Something like that.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 09:55 am (UTC)
Hearing music that she actually knew the words too fluently was definitely off putting. She had practically inhaled her sandwich and her eyes remained fixed on the bedroom door as if there were strange music demons on the other side. Sylar had put on tunes that Claire hadn't honestly heard in decades.

"What the hell is he listening to?" She asked herself, Sylar being in another room. How could he think that he could treat her like this? He saved her. Shouldn't he just let her be. Be kind to her if he wanted her to be kind in return?

She sat and ate the remain bits of her meal and listened to the song wafting through the apartment.

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

"Jesus, Rise Against... really?" Claire scoffed, leaning back against the pillows and listening on.

Inside my hands these petals browned;
dried up falling to the ground,
but it was already too late now.
I pushed my fingers through the earth,
returned this flower to the dirt;
so it could live, I walked away now.
But I know...

Not a day goes by when I don't feel this burn.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...

Actually, the song was starting to make her think, started to get to her a little. Claire could liken herself to the flower in a way and Sylar could have been the misguided man just looking for something beautiful... only to kill it. Perhaps he really was made into the monster she now saw. Perhaps it was her father or the Company that had brought Sylar to this place where he would be forever forgotten just like her.

Just like her...

"This is our curse..." Claire whispered softly to herself, realizing that maybe she wasn't the only one suffering from the pains of watching the word wilt and dry up around her.
Dec. 2nd, 2009 10:55 am (UTC)
Sylar really hadn't paid attention to how much pain the music he listened to held. It touched chords in himself and he moved with it, lived with it, so listening felt natural and he didn't over-analyze. He didn't consider the fact that Claire might pay attention and begin to extrapolate things from the songs.

There was quite a bit in this vein and he'd been collecting for a very, very long time. Linkin Park, Finger Eleven, The Hands-Off Love Affair. Things a little newer like Coin-Op Salvation, but nothing that went much beyond 2020 and older music Claire might not be as familiar with like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and the moodier selections of The Cure. She'd been a poppy, peppy cheerleader, he'd been an introverted freak. ...Still was an introverted freak.

He busied his hands with domestic chores through a few tracks, rinsing off his plate, disinfecting the kitchen counter and dusting the surfaces of the living room. After about a half an hour worth of cleaning (which he was extremely efficient at by now) he fell idle once again.

It always irritated him now to overhear the young say that they were ever bored. They couldn't possibly be bored, having done so little, but after almost a century and a half he could all too easily become bored. The most frustrating element in his life was now also the most engaging, so he inevitably returned to the bedroom again.

He left the music playing in the background, the melancholy and vaguely oppressive baselines of She Wants Revenge's "These Things" scoring his long, dark figure leaned in the doorway to watch her. "...Am I the only one you've ever killed, Claire?" He posed the question with a neutral curiosity, not entirely sure himself why he wanted to know.

Usually it would be for ammunition against someone, but he already suspected his was the only blood on her hands. Maybe he just wanted to measure the depth of the shadows he stood in, cast by obstructions in her bright, moral light.

Edited at 2009-12-02 01:37 pm (UTC)
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