Grimacing from the way the bullet shifted in her thigh, regretting more than anything that they hadn't stopped to take the time to dislodge it, Elle made her way to a sitting position in the sand. Probably not the most sanitary thing she could have done for it, but, well … beggars couldn't be choosers after all. She'd learned pretty quickly that complaining about it wouldn't get her far. Besides, complaining about it to Sylar when he'd just had his throat sliced by Claire's psycho-dad seemed pretty juvenile, anyway
( ... )
"What you said about finding ourselves free of parents." Almost like an afterthought, he added, "of powers." Well. At least they were still on that same wavelength. That was reassuring, and way less likely to end with him getting pissed at her over the fact that they both knew Glasses was telling the truth
( ... )
Well, there was no mistake greater than the one right in front of her to take responsibility for. If anyone deserved to kill Elle Bishop, it was the monster she'd created. In the back of her mind, she wondered if her father had found the same serenity, or if he'd just been selfish and ignorant and not realized how poetic it really was. She'd killed Gabriel Gray so long ago by ripping apart his very soul. It was only fair that he did the same to her
( ... )
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