Fic: Heroes "Safe As Houses" -- Sylaire - G
Title: Safe As Houses
Author: Claramata
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Rating: G
Warning: Future fic, angsty fluff
Word count: 503
Author’s note: Just a small scene that came into my mind from the same writing prompt website (www.creativewritingprompts.com) as my other Sylaire drabble “No Words”
The shell in her hand seemed so solid, and Claire thought of how it once held a creature inside it. The little clam must have thought it was safe as houses, the way that Claire had once felt under the bright blue of the big Texas sky. That seemed lifetimes ago, it was lifetimes ago. She almost never thought about the past, about the people she’d loved or the home she no longer had.
The air was cold and the beach deserted this time of year, the green-gray of the Atlantic licking against a sandy shore so different from the beaches of California. Claire was glad for the peace, the silence of the empty water and gray, stormy sky. He stood silently beside her, a quiet presence all in black that she’d actually come to appreciate. She’d tried to fight it at first, beat back the loneliness that eventually drove her to her childhood nightmare with attempts at normalcy, a family, a life. She’d had to leave it all behind, of course. Her ability made it impossible for any kind of normal life to last too long.
He’d been right all along; she couldn’t continue to hate him for the rest of her unnaturally long life, for the rest of forever. Eventually the hatred had melted into tolerance, and then as the years went on friendship. As she learned more about the one man who had still remembered who she’d been, she started to see the soft parts, the wounds that never healed. She came to love that wounded man who’d always been hidden behind the hunger he still struggled with.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching his face as he watched the sun peak out from behind the clouds. Claire wonders if perhaps one of the reasons why he chose the northeast for their new home was because he’d been homesick, even if they were miles from the city he had once called home.
She’d never say anything to him about it though, and he’d never really tell her. It was their unspoken agreement. They’d leave the past, and it’s demons, as far behind them as they possibly could.
Their lives were not about the past anymore, because if they looked into the past too far, they’d never be able to live in the present again.
The sun finally fought back those dreaded clouds and Sylar looked over at her, meeting her gaze. He didn’t smile, his smiles, the true ones, were rare. There was a soft look in his eyes though, and his hand felt warm when he took Claire’s hand. Their lives weren’t about the past, because the Sylar of the past would never have looked like that to her, gentle and tender.
Claire smiled when he kissed the top of her head and said, “lets go home.” As he led her down the beach, Claire squeezes the shell in her hand and thinks that perhaps, this time, she truly was safe.
Author: Claramata
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Rating: G
Warning: Future fic, angsty fluff
Word count: 503
Author’s note: Just a small scene that came into my mind from the same writing prompt website (www.creativewritingprompts.com) as my other Sylaire drabble “No Words”
The shell in her hand seemed so solid, and Claire thought of how it once held a creature inside it. The little clam must have thought it was safe as houses, the way that Claire had once felt under the bright blue of the big Texas sky. That seemed lifetimes ago, it was lifetimes ago. She almost never thought about the past, about the people she’d loved or the home she no longer had.
The air was cold and the beach deserted this time of year, the green-gray of the Atlantic licking against a sandy shore so different from the beaches of California. Claire was glad for the peace, the silence of the empty water and gray, stormy sky. He stood silently beside her, a quiet presence all in black that she’d actually come to appreciate. She’d tried to fight it at first, beat back the loneliness that eventually drove her to her childhood nightmare with attempts at normalcy, a family, a life. She’d had to leave it all behind, of course. Her ability made it impossible for any kind of normal life to last too long.
He’d been right all along; she couldn’t continue to hate him for the rest of her unnaturally long life, for the rest of forever. Eventually the hatred had melted into tolerance, and then as the years went on friendship. As she learned more about the one man who had still remembered who she’d been, she started to see the soft parts, the wounds that never healed. She came to love that wounded man who’d always been hidden behind the hunger he still struggled with.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching his face as he watched the sun peak out from behind the clouds. Claire wonders if perhaps one of the reasons why he chose the northeast for their new home was because he’d been homesick, even if they were miles from the city he had once called home.
She’d never say anything to him about it though, and he’d never really tell her. It was their unspoken agreement. They’d leave the past, and it’s demons, as far behind them as they possibly could.
Their lives were not about the past anymore, because if they looked into the past too far, they’d never be able to live in the present again.
The sun finally fought back those dreaded clouds and Sylar looked over at her, meeting her gaze. He didn’t smile, his smiles, the true ones, were rare. There was a soft look in his eyes though, and his hand felt warm when he took Claire’s hand. Their lives weren’t about the past, because the Sylar of the past would never have looked like that to her, gentle and tender.
Claire smiled when he kissed the top of her head and said, “lets go home.” As he led her down the beach, Claire squeezes the shell in her hand and thinks that perhaps, this time, she truly was safe.