Isaac's loft, November 7th

[watchmakers_son]

[From here.]

Take your hand. Tighten it into a fist, as hard as you can. Hold it.

Keep holding it.

Hold it even as the muscles seize up, fingertips starting to tingle from lack of blood, cramps spreading down your entire arm and into your shoulder; hold it without the slightest change in pressure, knowing that if you let go -- even for a second -- you might bleed to death.

Add in the searing pain from the wound itself every time he moves or so much as breathes, and it may be understandable why Sylar's progress through the bar is labored at best.

He's several feet from the front door when a loud clatter catches his attention; he turns his head, watching Kaylee slam open the lake door with a gurney in tow.

He's still watching when the white-haired doctor sprints into the infirmary.

Comments

[bannion_sight]

"It's, um, nice to meet you too," she says. "Especially considering, well, everything."

A pause, while they turn a corner.

"Not that I noticed."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

"Mind telling me exactly what you did notice?"

His is the kind of tone that's brisk enough to masquerade as an idle inquiry.

[bannion_sight]

Her reply comes without hesitation.

"There were -- he had these paintings."

A beat.

"They weren't his. Well, not exactly."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Painter.

Claude knows of a painter.

"Not exactly," he repeats, glancing down at Kim.

[bannion_sight]

"He killed the man who painted them. And now he paints them instead."

Kim's voice is low.

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Briefly, he wonders if Peter Petrelli knows. Decides it's not an issue.

Some sponges are born.

Some sponges are -- apparently -- made.

"With fava beans and a nice chianti," Claude mutters to himself. "Listen -- how often does he show up in Milliways? Any idea?"

[bannion_sight]

"I never even saw him before today," Kim tells him. "Or ever heard anything about him."

But you can bet she'll be paying more attention in the future.

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

As they round another corner: "I wouldn't go out of your way to find out any more. If you take my meaning." Another glance at her. "He didn't go after you just because you figured it out, did he."

[bannion_sight]

"I don't-- I'm a doctor."

That comes out a little more loudly than she'd meant it to, and Kim winces, looking around.

"He got hurt in a fight at Milliways, and -- I don't know, he must have seen me coming out of the infirmary after I was done treating the other one-- he just grabbed me, and pulled me through the door so that I'd have to help him."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, and Isaac Mendez was an artist." Dismissively. "You're smart enough to put the pieces together, you're smart enough to know that being what amounts to a civilian doesn't make a difference to him if you're a threat."

"Or a resource."

[bannion_sight]

"It doesn't matter -- he's got to be angry enough at me to kill me now, even if he wasn't already--"

Kim stops.

"Wait, you knew him? The painter?"

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Claude jerks forward -- but doesn't let go of her hand. "Not to speak to. Come on."

As they start walking again: "This is a handy trick, is all I'm saying. And it's one I'd prefer your friend not acquire. What would he get from you?"

[bannion_sight]

"He's already got it. Or close enough."

"I'm a Seer. The 'dreamer of the dream,' if that means anything to you."

It had to her, when Ysanne had said it.

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

"...not really." Claude sounds dubious. "I wonder -- if he takes two, does it get stronger?"

[bannion_sight]

"You know, I'd really rather not find out. He already knows--"

Had known that she was 'different,' she realizes. Had known about Ysanne.

"--too much anyway."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

A sharp look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

[bannion_sight]

"Just what I said," she returns, a little sharply. "That's all."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Claude mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like see if I ever get caught helping civilian idiots that don't have sense to kill when they get a chance ever again.

[bannion_sight]

It's clear enough.

"I'm not a killer!"

Not herself, anyway-- even as she says it, she can't help but remember Tabor dan Ivor and the red unicorn that was Dana's gift, and the death that they had wreaked at her direction. Kim's lips tighten.

"And I don't want to be." Ever again. "I'm a doctor. That's what I do."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Claude snorts. "And I suppose you think your cannibal friend will be just fine with a little psychiatric care."

[bannion_sight]

"I happen to know some very fine psychiatrists who'd argue that point with you," Kim tells him. "I don't know. And I'm not going to be the one who suggests it to him."

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

"If he's willing to murder to pick up new abilities," Claude says, "and he's willing to murder people who've got things he's already got -- what makes you think he wouldn't murder anyone who tries to tell him how what he's doing is wrong?"

He stops in front of a door, under an awning. "This is it -- "

Through the front door, and they're in a foyer, with a closed door off to the left, and an open door in front of them. Through that door are shelves of what look like plastic glasses, capes, and flashlights.

Claude nods to the closed door. "You'll be going through there. Do yourself a favor and carry around a can of mace or something."

[bannion_sight]

"Or something," she says, a little dryly, but then Kim hesitates.

"Um. Thanks. For everything." A sudden, quick smile. "Will I see you again?"

[invisanthrope.livejournal.com]

Claude snorts. "Right."

He opens the door.

And he lets go of her hand.







Nobody's there.