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And She Will (Heroes)

So, I tried to spend November doing more writing than usual. By and large, I succeeded, though most of it was on a probably never-to-be-finished original fiction of mine that I’ve been poking at off and on for the last few years. (For those curious, it’ll never be finished because, while I love the ‘world’ I created, the plot... is not so much with the existing.)

Along the way, I tried a binge of writing whatever popped into my head. Which, in most cases, produced stuff that I won’t even type into the computer let alone post. And yet, one or two things managed to not, well, completely suck. This is one of them.

So far, this is the first Heroes fic that I’ve ever written. It’s entirely possible that it may be the last, I don’t know. As it is, it exists. For little reason besides I had a voice in my head and I had to write it to get it out.

Series: Heroes
Word Count: 598
Genre: Action/Drama
Rating: T
Spoilers: There are no spoilers contained here, so long as you’ve seen at least the first two or three episodes. Or half the first episode, really. Heck, I suspect this may have already been partially jossed by the latest episode, anyway. *salute*
Warnings: Light gore.

I don’t own Heroes, though I wish I did because I want to have the plotting ability of the writers for the show. Mmm, full series arcs and multi-episode arcs conjoined...

Three stories up, and she never learned how to fly. Not that it matters.

And She Will

She didn’t scream on the way down. That was what made it so startling, despite the warning sound of breaking glass.

“Holy shit!” he yelped as she crashed to the ground only a few feet away from him.

She hadn’t even bothered to try landing well, or rolling. She landed like a tossed ragdoll, with a fwumph and a crunching noise. As he sprinted over to her, she flopped herself over onto her back - resetting her knee with a crack - and blinked at the sky above.

“You haven’t got a speck of self-preservation left, do you?” he accused as she mumbled something incomprehensible about concrete, and sat up.

Claire snorted. “Are you kidding?” She yanked her shoulder back into place, and prodded her collarbone until it was something close to the right shape again. “I hardly even have pain receptors left.”

Primly, she started picking the shards of glass out of her formerly broken shoulder and arm, all but ignoring him.

“Y’know, just because you have a get-out-of-death-and-dismemberment-free card doesn’t mean you have to use it.”

She blinked up at him, her gaze flat. “Why not?” She shrugged, testing her shoulder, and flexed her fingers experimentally. “It’s a maze in there, and I needed a fast way out.”

“So you jumped out of a third-storey window.”

“A stairwell window,” she corrected. “Two and a half storeys.”

“Does a half-storey make that much of a difference?”

“Yeah.” Claire prodded the side of her head curiously, then made a face at the blood the gesture left on her fingers. She wiped them off on her pants as she stood. “Why are you making such a big deal about this? It’s not like I don’t do stuff like that all the time.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he sighed. “I mean... what if this... thing you do has a limit? What if you can only get better a certain number of times? What’ll you do if it just stops?” The words tumbled from him in a worried rush.

“Then I’d stay hurt.” Clair checked her ribs with a sweep of her hand, and tugged her shirt more into place with the same move, then held it slightly away from her body, eyeing it judicially. “Do you think I could get the blood out of this?”

“The glass sliced it full of holes, Claire.”

“Oh yeah.” She grimaced. “Too bad. I liked this shirt.”

“How can you be so calm about this? If your... powers stop working, you could seriously die from the stuff you do!”

“So what? They haven’t stopped working. If anything, it’s gotten even faster lately.” Claire raked her fingers through her hair, trying to resettle it into its usual tousle despite the blood matting into one side.


“Stop freaking out on me,” she advised tartly. “I’m fine, and I got what I went in for, so it’s all good.” She reached into a pocket and retrieved a slightly blood-smeared ziplock baggie containing four floppy discs, dangling it in front of his face.

“Yeah, all good,” he echoed unhappily, and reached for the baggie.

Claire snatched it away from him before he could even touch it, tucking it back into the pocket she’d gotten it from.

“We’d better get going,” she said, already beginning to walk away. “They’re going to notice these are gone any time now, and we don’t want to be anywhere near here when they come looking.”

He looked up at the broken stairwell window for a long moment before he turned to chase after Claire, whose fast strides already had her far away from him.


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January 2012

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