Title: Turnabout
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 Finale. Character Death.
Disclaimer: All belongs to a man named Tim.
Time: Takes place during Powerless
Pairing, Characters: None. Claire, HRG, Bob
Summary: Turnabout is fair play.
They had taken everything away from her. Her freedom was taken away the second her ability was whispered in the ears of the Company. Her identity replaced to protect her family. Her individuality smothered to hide her. Her blood sucked out of her for experimentation. And now her father had been killed because all he wanted to do was save her.
She had cried. She couldn’t count the number of tears she had sobbed and it was impossible for her to run out because her body could always supply more. She screamed and pulled out her hair and the pain never, ever stopped.
It wasn’t until she had poured her father’s ashes out over the ocean that she finally tasted clarity mixed in with the salt of the sea. As the sun dipped under the horizon, she finally understood what she had to do.
Her father had spent his whole life protecting her from The Company. Now it was time to pay him back. She would destroy the people that destroyed her. Her tears went away and determination filled the hollowness in her.
But when her father walked through her front door, healed from her blood, everything stopped. Warmth began to bloom in her and Claire wanted to pinch herself so that she could be sure that this was real.
Her plans began to waver under the strength of her happiness.
And then Noah informed her of what he had done. The Company stole her father away again and he was going willingly. To protect her. She grit her teeth and could not control the rage that welled up inside of her. The clarity, the peace that she had found comfort in was completely destroyed. She couldn’t let him do this, not after everything that had happened. She couldn’t let him be apart of the enemy again, couldn’t let him take this away from her.
She stalked after him, a chill crawling up her spin as the voice of Bob reached her ears. And suddenly, it all made sense. They were using her father to keep her quiet. And her father was complying to protect poor, innocent Claire.
She didn’t need to be protected.
Turning on her heel, Claire ripped open one of the boxes she had so carefully packed and pulled out the firearm she had found stashed in her dad’s desk. Driven with a purpose she only felt twice before, Claire stormed past her mother.
She swung the door open and it collided with the inside of her house with a startling bang. Both her father and Bob turned and Claire instinctively took aim and fired. The bang, she noted, was far more deafening than the sound of the door.
While it wasn’t the best shot, it did the job. The bullet had lodged itself just below his throat.
Claire let her arms fall to her sides as she stared down at the twitching, dying body.
“Claire,” her father whispered.
She looked up and saw that her father had reached out a hand to touch her but merely hovered. His face was distorted with horror and fear. His eyes searched hers, looking for an answer.
Claire’s gaze just moved to Bob’s body as he gave a final shudder and died.
“Claire!” her father repeated, finally taking hold of her. His big hands fell on her arms as he turned her roughly to face him.
Her eyes met his and he was frightened of what he found there, or more specifically, what he didn’t find there: not an ounce of guilt, only cold hard determination.
A smile stretched her lips as her head tilted. “Oh Daddy, look what you made me do.”