Heroes: Breathing
Title: Breathing
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 400
Warnings: Well, Sylar sawed off her skull cap, any other questions?
Summary: Claire is still breathing, and Sylar is curious. Missing scene from 3x01
Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last fic! I’m really glad that it got such strong feedback, and I’m very grateful for it.
She was still breathing. He had her pinned to the wall of her home, her scalp resting against her hardwood floor, her brain exposed for all to see, and still she breathed.
Despite his anger at being caught unaware, and the pain that stabbed with every breath he took, Sylar couldn’t help but admire her, how her ability kept her alive where all others met their ends. Then again, if she could put herself back together after having half the bones in her body smashed to fragments, a clean incision wouldn’t so much as slow her down. Her gray matter was perfectly intact, her blood replenishing even as it trickled in rivulets down her cheeks, mingling with her tears.
Such a lovely ability-and it was finally in his grasp.
“I’m not dying…” she whispered, barely seeing him through a haze of pain and confusion. He didn’t answer, simply edged closer.
Standing before her, beholding this biological miracle, was a…interesting development, to say the least. He had guessed she might survive, but otherwise hadn’t thought much past the scalping. He never had to, not before.
However, taking out her brain and making off with it wasn’t an option, not with the kitchen knife-he had to hand it to her, little Claire knew how to pick her weapons, if not her battles-wedged between his ribs.
Besides, now that he had her before him, conscious and, quite literally, kicking-both of her boots had gone flying-he didn’t particularly want to take her brain out of her skull. That could kill her, and doing so meant he was throwing hundreds of possibilities to waste. So many questions, and, well, she might be considerate enough to answer the ones her brain couldn’t.
Yes, without a doubt, a local examination would prove far more helpful for both of them.
The Bennet family was thoughtful enough to have a coffee table about the right size for such a thing. Using both telekinesis and his own two hands, Sylar gingerly carried her into the Bennets’ living room. Carefully; he laid Claire’s body atop the glass surface, then seated himself before her exposed cranium, grimacing in pain. He’d have to work faster than he liked; it was getting harder and harder to draw breath.
A thorough examination to answer any questions he had, then he could experiment to his heart’s content.
He set to work.