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heroslayerThey're looking for him, he knows. Of course they are.
He harassed their new pet geneticist. Stole their precious cure and reclaimed his mantle. Shot at (maybe even hit; he can't remember, the moment is fuzzy in comparison to the clarity of memory now) the electric bitch who'd tried to stop him. And let's not forget his earlier crimes, because he knows that they won't. Anything they can hang on him, any stigmata to mark him as plague, just to avoid the miles and miles of red tape he's sure will bog them down, otherwise.
He doesn't mind, though. Quite to the contrary, he might even be happy that they're after him again. It's typical of them, a silver of familiarity on the shore of uncertainty of being cast adrift, painfully normal for so many months. Not that he's stupid enough to hang around New York, so they can find him and shove him back in a cell, but he has missed it. He needs their games now, to be forever a move ahead in this dizzying chess match of theirs, just as he needed Suresh's cure to bring him back to himself.
Just as he needs to resume the hunt. Just as he needs to resume fortifying himself, growing stronger and stronger and stronger with every new ability. And the perfect target, he thinks, is the cheerleader; he's coveted her ability for so long, it's only natural.
He catches the first flight to Odessa, using the name of the poor schmuck who got to be on the receiving end of a radioactive blast, just to make sure it still worked. It's risky to be that obvious, risky to even go to the airport in the first place, but he needs to leave them clues. They're too stupid to follow, if he really wants to go unnoticed--he knows that firsthand--and he wants them on his trail.
It's riskier still when he murders the family that's moved into the Bennet's old home, when he finds them gone, but his temper demands it. They should be here--they should--but they're not. And if the Company knows what he's after now, in his mistake, he'll have to wait to claim what's his again. He'll need to find a new target, and he doesn't want to. He's been stalking Claire for so long, that--
--that he kills again, this time a random motorist, just to get the rage out of his system. He need to think clearly, and he needs a mode of transportation, not wanting to take a flight back and really ruin his chances. Shame that his latest victim is without ability, he thinks as he gets into the car, but it's necessary.
He drives back west, away from home, remembering someone on his own personal version of the list, living powered in Los Angeles, and not wanting the trip to be a total waste. He tries to avoid thinking about how empty the car feels without someone else with him--particularly without the presence of a certain geneticist--and manages well enough. Mostly. And what little he can't avoid thinking about is a hell of a lot better than focusing on how he couldn't find the cheerleader.
He picks up a copy of the local newspaper when he stops to eat in Costa Verde, sits down in a booth, and looks it over. It's a couple of days old, but it really doesn't matter; it's just something else to think about, while he sips at his coffee and waits on the pancakes he ordered. It's mostly fluff pieces, bits of local color that he could care less about, but something catches his attention so sharply he nearly drops his coffee.
An article about a cheerleader who swears she saw one of her teammates die, only to show up again, perfectly fine, minutes later.
Setting his mug down, he traces the rise and fall of inked letters with his fingers and smiles to himself. "Hello, Claire." It'll take a little doing, to track her down, but he'll find her. He's hunted and hunter both in earnest, now.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 682
Notes: Spoilers in this are a little vague, but better safe than sorry, right?
He harassed their new pet geneticist. Stole their precious cure and reclaimed his mantle. Shot at (maybe even hit; he can't remember, the moment is fuzzy in comparison to the clarity of memory now) the electric bitch who'd tried to stop him. And let's not forget his earlier crimes, because he knows that they won't. Anything they can hang on him, any stigmata to mark him as plague, just to avoid the miles and miles of red tape he's sure will bog them down, otherwise.
He doesn't mind, though. Quite to the contrary, he might even be happy that they're after him again. It's typical of them, a silver of familiarity on the shore of uncertainty of being cast adrift, painfully normal for so many months. Not that he's stupid enough to hang around New York, so they can find him and shove him back in a cell, but he has missed it. He needs their games now, to be forever a move ahead in this dizzying chess match of theirs, just as he needed Suresh's cure to bring him back to himself.
Just as he needs to resume the hunt. Just as he needs to resume fortifying himself, growing stronger and stronger and stronger with every new ability. And the perfect target, he thinks, is the cheerleader; he's coveted her ability for so long, it's only natural.
He catches the first flight to Odessa, using the name of the poor schmuck who got to be on the receiving end of a radioactive blast, just to make sure it still worked. It's risky to be that obvious, risky to even go to the airport in the first place, but he needs to leave them clues. They're too stupid to follow, if he really wants to go unnoticed--he knows that firsthand--and he wants them on his trail.
It's riskier still when he murders the family that's moved into the Bennet's old home, when he finds them gone, but his temper demands it. They should be here--they should--but they're not. And if the Company knows what he's after now, in his mistake, he'll have to wait to claim what's his again. He'll need to find a new target, and he doesn't want to. He's been stalking Claire for so long, that--
--that he kills again, this time a random motorist, just to get the rage out of his system. He need to think clearly, and he needs a mode of transportation, not wanting to take a flight back and really ruin his chances. Shame that his latest victim is without ability, he thinks as he gets into the car, but it's necessary.
He drives back west, away from home, remembering someone on his own personal version of the list, living powered in Los Angeles, and not wanting the trip to be a total waste. He tries to avoid thinking about how empty the car feels without someone else with him--particularly without the presence of a certain geneticist--and manages well enough. Mostly. And what little he can't avoid thinking about is a hell of a lot better than focusing on how he couldn't find the cheerleader.
He picks up a copy of the local newspaper when he stops to eat in Costa Verde, sits down in a booth, and looks it over. It's a couple of days old, but it really doesn't matter; it's just something else to think about, while he sips at his coffee and waits on the pancakes he ordered. It's mostly fluff pieces, bits of local color that he could care less about, but something catches his attention so sharply he nearly drops his coffee.
An article about a cheerleader who swears she saw one of her teammates die, only to show up again, perfectly fine, minutes later.
Setting his mug down, he traces the rise and fall of inked letters with his fingers and smiles to himself. "Hello, Claire." It'll take a little doing, to track her down, but he'll find her. He's hunted and hunter both in earnest, now.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 682
Notes: Spoilers in this are a little vague, but better safe than sorry, right?
