and then she'd say, 'it's okay, i got lost on the way, but i'm a supergirl and supergirls don't cry'

[regenerated]

Up until now, everything's been easy. As strange as it might be for most people to imagine, Claire Bennet's leap off the Compound has been the best thing that's happened to her yet on Tabula Rasa. Maybe it isn't the healthiest— after all, where the leap from the Compound was supposed to help her shed that mask, come face to face with all that fate's laid on her, now it's only granted a wish that she's held tightly to for months. All of a sudden, it's the lies that have become truth. She no longer has to think about the ideas her mind's brushed over in past months, wondering if invincibility comes with everlasting life, if wrinkles will never make it to her face, caused by smiles or frowns. The prospect itself is still one that chills her to the bone, lingering in the shadows of her thought, Claire realizing better than anyone else that there will come a day when she returns to the United States, when being a cheerleader is no longer an option, when her dad will come and take her into his arms, family man that he is. She'll have to search for Peter, for Nathan, for anything remaining of the two of them. But for now, one choice has been switched for another, and it feels pretty good.

She's probably driven the people at the clinic mad. Claire keeps on trying to pull off her bandages, keeps on running gentle hands over her injuries, relishing the way that the pain is different each time. This process is healing. Not reversing, not erasing all trace of what's happened, but instead an imperfect process that leaves her slightly fractured, slightly weak, all of the things that a girl her age is supposed to be. The bruises that she sees all over her skin might be about the most beautiful thing she's seen and felt in a long time, her eyes wide with amazement at the human body, that imperfect state of being and how it adapts. It's almost hard to keep the lie in place, with the way her lips spread into a smile at the slightest provocation, how laughs catch in her throat now because her lung hasn't healed enough to be used at full force.

But she can't hide on her own forever. Can't use fatigue as an excuse when all the doctors can see that her eyes are practically dancing. It's time for visiting hours. This is what she's been dreading.

Because somehow, she doesn't think that most people will believe her if she tells them this is the happiest she's been in almost a year. And honestly, she's not even sure if she should.

Comments

[floozyfacade]

It's strange, that the way Claire's managed to come up with a ballpark figure for their stay makes Olive love her a little more, but it's so much something she would have done eventually herself, if she hadn't first distracted herself with things like dinosaurs. Maybe that makes it a bit narcissistic, but a lot of love is, Olive sometimes thinks; or, at least, it's often a recognition of an overlap. There are things they have in common and she loves Claire for all of them and for the ways in which they're different, too. Two to three years is a terrifying number, in large part because it's so broad. She's never been one of those who wanted to know when she was going to die because she'd rather fling herself at everything and whatever happens, happens, but she thinks, sometimes, it might be easier to know just how long she has here (but what would she do differently if she did?).

"Yeah," she says, "but it's kinda worth it." Maybe it's just she's yet to lose anyone really important, so it's easier to bear the idea (there was Effy, but she barely knew her). Maybe it's just she feels the need to embrace it because she knows herself well enough to be sure she couldn't hold everyone at arms' length even if she wanted to. She's just not made to shut everyone out — to be secretive, private, at times, and she's good at being alone, but if someone's in her life, she's no good at keeping her distance. "I mean, it's going to suck when everyone goes or if I go home and never see you guys again, it's, it's gonna be the worst. But I'd rather know all of you than spend two to three years only going halfway on all my friendships in case I get hurt. And, and, and with Eduardo, with this — I mean, this is my first boyfriend, my first relationship, and he could... he could disappear at any minute, but you know, so what? High school relationships sometimes don't even last two to three months, and I'd take a month of knowing he loves me over nothing. I think it's gonna hurt no matter what we do, so... we might as well embrace it."

[regenerated]

In spite of the halting, the occasional stammer, there's so much surety in Olive's voice that Claire can't help but just stare in awe for a few seconds. She's not sure that she can see completely eye-to-eye with what Olive says, even though she knows that falling deep into everything, the friendships and relationships, is probably something that she can't avoid. As nice as it is in theory to keep a distance from people, to make sure that the pang of separation doesn't cut too deep, Claire can't help but find it nearly impossible to actually hold off. Not when superficiality doesn't seem to be nearly as much of an issue anymore, when there's no pressure on her end to be a cheerleader and climb up in some arbitrary social hierarchy.

"You know, every single part of me wants to believe that, it really does," she says with a deep breath, sighing through her teeth, brow furrowed from the effort. "Which doesn't mean that I'm going to discourage you from just going on ahead with life and enjoying it as, like, something different? Than what we had in our worlds, but. I don't know, maybe I'm just too worried, because I lost a lot back home, and when I left, I was just desperately clinging to what I still had. So I'm always so afraid, especially since here, losing people is like the status quo."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, a few strands of hair falling loose. "Not that it really makes a huge difference, since I still like getting to know everyone here anyway, and, and obviously I've made friends. Friends who I care just as much about as the people back home."

[floozyfacade]

"Well, maybe that's the difference," Olive says with a shrug. "I've never... really lost much of anything." She feels guilty for that sometimes, the extraordinary luck she's had just by virtue of being normal, and at others she hates it a little, because at least losing something means there was something to lose. She's not really sorry, though. The biggest thing to slip her grasp was her reputation and a handful of goldfish over the years (dogs, it's turned out, are more reliable companions). That she's mostly been on her own isn't something she can pity herself for when most of the few people she has kept at her side have each been better than a dozen or more shallow friends combined. Maybe when she loses someone, really loses them, she'll change her tune, but even then, she knows herself well enough to be sure even that would be superficial; she just doesn't have it in her to shut anyone out for long. "Plus I talk a lot. I mean, it's scary, of course it is. I'm scared, too. Just... being scared doesn't fix anything, so I may as well make the most of what I've got."