Heroes Fic: Disconnect
Title: Disconnect
Pairing: Eden/Isaac
Rating: Light PG-13, but only for the canon content.
Summary: In which a prisoner/guest is comforted, and a great deal goes unsaid.
Warnings/Notes: Drug references. Written for the rare_heroes Brave New Ship challenge. Cut text is from The Road I'm On by 3 Doors Down.
Well, shit.
He'd actually been clean for a while there. For the first time since... God, the first time he could remember, he'd even fought for it, despite the glasses guy's sob story. That hadn't been easy. But then that Eden girl with her big sad eyes had come in and sat by him and explained- he didn't quite remember clearly, except that it had been calm and reasonable and delivered in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard. And that all his resolve, living as it was in unfamiliar territory, had instantly crumbled.
Despite the general misery- he could probably write a book by now about coming down off a high, but experience didn't make it any easier- Isaac was eager to get a look at what he'd painted, and a little disappointed that it didn't seem to have anything at all to show timing or location. While he was staring at the figure, trying to make sense of it, the sound of the door opening and closing interrupted his thoughts.
It was that girl again, walking quietly, her big eyes fixed on the painting. "I don't know what it means," he told her, his voice rough. "There's no landmarks, no date or time... if it's got anything to do with that guy's kid, she's just gonna have to stay home." Unless that was where it happened, of course. Why couldn't this shit be useful?
But Eden was shaking her head. "That's not how Sylar operates. He has... more of a personal touch," she added, sounding both awfully certain and kind of disgusted. She turned her attention back to the exploding man, and Isaac couldn't blame her; it was hard to ignore. "It looks like Hell," she muttered, and Isaac had to agree.
"So what happens now? This isn't what he needs, but- I'm not going through that again," he said, with more determination than he really felt. He'd said that before, after all, and then given in in a moment to pretty eyes and a gentle voice.
"No," said Eden, frowning. "You're not. We shouldn't have asked for that in the first place- I'm really sorry, Isaac." There seemed to be a little more edge, more guilt, more of something that almost seemed like desperation, than the situation really seemed to call for, and he almost asked about it. Almost.
Later, he would wonder what would have been different if he had asked, if he'd known what had been done to him and where to place his trust, instead of staring into those big brown eyes and remembering the only other person who'd ever shown this much concern for him, and why she never would again. While Eden was here, and Eden- "You said you understood," said Isaac. "You said you knew what it was like."
She nodded. "I've done some things I don't really like to talk about. But-" and here she reached out to cradle his cheek- "it doesn't always have to be that way. It won't stay that way, if I have anything to say about it. We're going to actually help you now."
"I want you to help," said Isaac, on impulse. "You're the one who cares."
Eden smiled oddly at that. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
Pairing: Eden/Isaac
Rating: Light PG-13, but only for the canon content.
Summary: In which a prisoner/guest is comforted, and a great deal goes unsaid.
Warnings/Notes: Drug references. Written for the rare_heroes Brave New Ship challenge. Cut text is from The Road I'm On by 3 Doors Down.
Well, shit.
He'd actually been clean for a while there. For the first time since... God, the first time he could remember, he'd even fought for it, despite the glasses guy's sob story. That hadn't been easy. But then that Eden girl with her big sad eyes had come in and sat by him and explained- he didn't quite remember clearly, except that it had been calm and reasonable and delivered in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard. And that all his resolve, living as it was in unfamiliar territory, had instantly crumbled.
Despite the general misery- he could probably write a book by now about coming down off a high, but experience didn't make it any easier- Isaac was eager to get a look at what he'd painted, and a little disappointed that it didn't seem to have anything at all to show timing or location. While he was staring at the figure, trying to make sense of it, the sound of the door opening and closing interrupted his thoughts.
It was that girl again, walking quietly, her big eyes fixed on the painting. "I don't know what it means," he told her, his voice rough. "There's no landmarks, no date or time... if it's got anything to do with that guy's kid, she's just gonna have to stay home." Unless that was where it happened, of course. Why couldn't this shit be useful?
But Eden was shaking her head. "That's not how Sylar operates. He has... more of a personal touch," she added, sounding both awfully certain and kind of disgusted. She turned her attention back to the exploding man, and Isaac couldn't blame her; it was hard to ignore. "It looks like Hell," she muttered, and Isaac had to agree.
"So what happens now? This isn't what he needs, but- I'm not going through that again," he said, with more determination than he really felt. He'd said that before, after all, and then given in in a moment to pretty eyes and a gentle voice.
"No," said Eden, frowning. "You're not. We shouldn't have asked for that in the first place- I'm really sorry, Isaac." There seemed to be a little more edge, more guilt, more of something that almost seemed like desperation, than the situation really seemed to call for, and he almost asked about it. Almost.
Later, he would wonder what would have been different if he had asked, if he'd known what had been done to him and where to place his trust, instead of staring into those big brown eyes and remembering the only other person who'd ever shown this much concern for him, and why she never would again. While Eden was here, and Eden- "You said you understood," said Isaac. "You said you knew what it was like."
She nodded. "I've done some things I don't really like to talk about. But-" and here she reached out to cradle his cheek- "it doesn't always have to be that way. It won't stay that way, if I have anything to say about it. We're going to actually help you now."
"I want you to help," said Isaac, on impulse. "You're the one who cares."
Eden smiled oddly at that. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."