Latest fan fic (continuation of "Still Running" and it's not smut)

Revelations

            Claude took a deep breath.  He was wondering if he dared tell Brenna about the rest of his past and how it was that he knew so much about Bennet, the marks, and folks with missing memories.  He found himself wondering exactly how much she’d seen in her vision already and what she could extrapolate from that.  “Brenna, you saw my past.  How much did you see?”

            “I saw a mix of things.  I saw you get marked.  I saw you having nightmares about other folks like us who’d been taken.  I also saw you get shot several times by someone you didn’t think would hurt you.”

            “Did you see who shot me?”

            “No.  My vision blurred out before I could get a good look at the guy’s face.  I only got a good look at your face in that one.”  Brenna sounded concerned and sympathetic.

            Claude closed his eyes and ran a hand through his chaotic light brown hair.  He was torn between wanting to keep his distance and wanting to fill in the gaps in Brenna’s vision.  He wasn’t the trusting sort, especially not these days, but something compelled him to tell Brenna why he’d been here nearly 7 years ago.  “I never told you why I came here to this building.”

            “I figured that this town is remote enough that those creeps would overlook it and this building makes an ideal hideaway.”  Brenna shrugged.  For all her gifts, she wasn’t sure where Claude was going with this.  She was well aware that there was a lot she didn’t know about Claude, but she still trusted him.  “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but I think I’d better get a move on trying to figure out what Bennet and co are up to and how we can keep them off your trail,” she said and pulled out her pack of cards.  She laid out her reading cloth then began to shuffle the deck.

            Claude remained standing, and scratched his beard, watching Brenna with a serious expression.  He chewed his lower lip then ran his tongue over it.  When Brenna set the deck down and went to draw the first card, Claude took her wrist gently, “Wait.  Before you see, I should tell you some things.  I used to work with Bennet.  He was my friend, or so I’d thought.  He was the one who shot me.  Until he found me in New York, he thought I had died.  I almost did.  We used to work for this organization, real black ops type stuff.  Initially, it was just find special folks and tag them so they could be tracked.  Then they started deciding some folks were too dangerous to be let go.”  Claude paused, waiting to see Brenna’s reaction.  He licked his lips then continued.  “I decided I’d had enough, and couldn’t do it anymore.  I tried to hide one of us.  They found out and told Bennet to kill me and to find out who I’d hidden.  I didn’t tell him and he shot me.  Some friend!”  Claude scoffed.  “And back in New York he shot me with a bloody Tazer!  If Peter hadn’t gotten clever, they’d have bagged us both!”

            Brenna just sat quietly listening to Claude.  If anything, her expression was sympathetic.

            “Aren’t you gonna say somethin’?”

            “Are you telling me because you trust me or because you figure I’ll see it anyway?”

            “I dunno.  Maybe a bit o’ both.”

            Brenna just shrugged and Claude let her go.  Brenna began to lay the cards out in a complex pattern.  To Claude, she seemed to be moving rapidly, but to Brenna, time seemed to slow to a crawl.  For each card she saw a different “movie.”

            She saw the past where Claude met Bennet and then saw the duo on a “bag and tag” mission.  Then she saw Bennet shoot Claude.  That was followed by flashes of Claude on the run all the way from Texas to New Hampshire, including Claude saving Brenna.  She saw Bennet rediscover Claude on the roof with Peter.  Then she saw Bennet get a phone call as Peter flew off with an unconscious Claude.  Apparently, Bennet’s wife had taken ill.  He and the Haitian had left the roof for the airport but, just as they were getting tickets for Texas Bennet got another call about a possible lead on Claude in New Hampshire from a field agent.  They’d boarded a plane for Manchester, NH, a mere stone’s throw from Litchfield, where the lead was supposed to be.  She saw a quick recap of herself and Claude meeting and then Bennet showing up.  Then she saw what she hadn’t witnessed live:  another cell phone call for Bennet.  Apparently, being as no good leads had shown, the organization had decided it was in all their best interests that Bennet now tend to his wife.  Brenna then saw Bennet and a blond teen- his daughter she realized- arguing.  She saw Bennet and his family return home only to be confronted by a man with a gun and a man with glowing hands.  It took a bit of effort, but Brenna refocused on the organization.  She couldn’t see much, just a computer screen and a memo that marked finding Claude was no longer a priority case.  The two key priorities were finding Peter Petrelli and someone listed as Sylar…

            It took Brenna several minutes to refocus on the here and now.  She was drained and dizzy but told Claude all she’d seen.  When she finished her recap she said, “I think you’ll be safe for a bit yet.”

            Claude was quiet at first.  “So that’s it then.  I tell you what I used to do and you help me anyway?”  Claude was angry but it didn’t take an emotional empath to tell that he was angry with himself more than anyone or anything.

            “What’s done can’t be undone.  Besides, you tried to help and make things better.”

            “Fat lot of good that did!  All I got was shot.  They’re still runnin’ the same game.”

            “If you hadn’t shown up here when you did, I’d have died,” she said quietly.

            “You don’t know that!”  Claude shot back defensively, but then realized Brenna was right.  If anyone had a clue how things might have gone differently, she would.  He also recalled how much blood she’d lost by the time he’d bandaged her up.

            “Look, Claude, I know you’re no saint, but you’re not a bad man either.  I have no problem with helping you.”

            Claude just quietly looked at Brenna, his expression pained.  After so much betrayal, here was one person who perhaps didn’t “suck.”  Brenna seemed to genuinely care and wanted to help as much as she could.  Claude was well aware that this woman was no stranger to betrayal herself, and yet she’d been willing to take a chance on him, even before he’d told her that he’d saved her all those years ago.  Time and again since he’d re-met her, Brenna had refused to betray Claude.  The fact that she said she’d been waiting for him was yet another point in her favor.  Another one who’s dreamt me, but this one isn’t seeking anything from me but rather to give something to me.  Claude was about to say something tied to this last thought when he noticed Brenna’s expression.  Her eyes were glowing ever so slightly.  She looked like she was in a trance.  Brenna was seeing a rapid flood of images far too numerous and jumbled to make sense of.  “What is it?”  Claude asked, his voice revealing his concern.

            “So much…so vast…” she began but then clutched her head in pain.

            “Brenna, stop!”  Claude cried, rushing forward.  “You hurting yourself isn’t gonna help!”

            “I need to be sure you’re safe,” she said but wasn’t able to speak further as the vision overwhelmed her.  Her nose began to bleed.  Brenna pitched forward and would have hit the floor if Claude hadn’t caught hold of her.  The last thing Brenna saw, before blacking out completely, was an explosion in New York that looked like a nuke.