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[Heroes] By Design; Zach and Claire
Note to self: Never write for "Heroes" again because nitpicky and the continuity issues make me want to gnaw off my own arm in frustration. But I liked this idea. And I would insert a long debate over how the Heroes execs handled Zach’s “orientation” but honestly I liked it being more or less ambiguous. God knows “gay” characters in comics often end up being their minority label first and their character second (lol Batwoman), so Zach being gay and yet not was really cool.
Title: By Design
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Zach and Claire
Summary: Claire is different and Zach is different-but-not-the-same. It still works.
Spoilers: Uh, for “Homecoming”? Set after Homecoming but before Fallout. I’m really just running off of memory so apologies if it’s OOC. And you can retcon it after 11 anyway.
Claire was always Zach’s measure of normalcy. Even if they were never the best of friends, he kept the memory of how they used to be as a reminder to himself. Before middle school politics, back when she worried about needing glasses and he was a gangly kid in oversized shirts. She was his link to a time where he wasn’t self-conscious about being a freak, where he was too innocent to know that there were differences between him and the rest of the world. Or at least if there were differences they were inconsequential.
When the blush crept over his face as he found himself checking out the guys in the locker room more than the girls in class, he thought of her. When the Sex Ed videos they played in their sixth period made him roll his eyes in discomfort, Zach in the present tried to categorize what it meant that time he stood by in dumb shock as the football player plowed into her and all he wanted to do was hold her and pray the bones set right.
He went through the stages, went through acceptance and right back into doubt on the bad days, or good, depending on who you asked. They drifted, the thoughts along with Claire, and then he found himself alone. Zach didn’t have time to dwell on it with people like Jackie taking swipes at him in order to secure themselves in the social echelon. And the funny part about it is after Claire left with a flip of her hair, Zach stopped seeing a pressing need to figure it all out.
He took up video, listened to the bands on pirate radio with announcers who didn’t drawl. It wasn’t freakish, it was cosmopolitan. But he still had to walk the hallways with the whispers, so he started wearing headphones. Then he started wearing shirts of his favorite bands to point glibly at his chest when somebody asked what he was listening to and he didn’t have to hear the snide retorts. Band shirts led to subculture references, logos and advertisement of this awkward and hard-forged identity.
So when she pulled him by the headphones one day after class, telling him to brace for a secret, well, he didn’t care much except for the fact she was talking to him in public with her hands on his shoulders.
“Watch this,” she said, “I’m going to need proof.”
He didn’t think she meant him personally. Zach had become better known for his video camera than his personality, which worked out all right in the end. He wasn’t her witness, just the one keeping it in focus. But the thing about Claire he always liked, even when she was a standoffish bitch to him, was that he knew she had something about her if she didn’t spend so much time wrapped up in trying to be like everyone else. He couldn’t say what it was exactly, but he saw it in moments when the guilt kept her back and the small gestures pushed her forward.
“I’m a freak. I can walk through a woodchipper and come out on the other side.”
“No,” he told her, “you’re special. Okay, you’re a freak but that’s cool.”
Claire laughed, in that unsure and self-deprecating way she always did. “It’s creepy.”
“But you are. Being a freak isn’t cool in and of itself, you got to work for it. Even in the fringes of unpopularity,” Zach smirked.
“You make it sound like a choice.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a bit of both. You can be born different but there’s stuff about yourself you can change and be who you want to be. So what you are and what you want to be, they’re both cool. That’s what I like about you.”
Zach’s mouth twitched, listening to the words fall out of his mouth he wondered if it sounded like he was flirting. And he wondered if it mattered, or if he should even care.
Even after she let him in, gave him the honor (he really couldn’t see it as a burden, things weren’t that bad yet) of being the only one who knew about it, he still felt out of her loop. He was always going to be the freak, but she was the once popular girl who “fell” into talking to him. Still, Zach wanted to prove to her, and to himself in some sick way, that he could help her get back some of the normalcy she longed for.
It was right out of the old movies Zach watch, and he avoided the teen flick clichés as much as he could. Boy throwing rocks at the window, wooing the girl down to the dance, where she would be crowned queen and have her moment in the spotlight. She even asked him to be her date. He declined, but he could be her coachman, and she rode with her arms wrapped around his waist in order to get to the game on time.
It was...nice.
He didn’t know about Sylar. That there was some freak, the bad scary kind of freak, going around trying to kill people like Claire. Claire who was real to him, not like those people in New York or the Burnt Toast waitress a few towns over. From Zach’s first person experience, the height of human cruelty was kiddy grade backstabbing, swirlies, and broken self-esteem. Not broken bones like Claire. Not a head split open and blood stained banners.
It was the first time he shook when he looked at her, hearing her talk about it even though she was whole and standing in front of him breathing like any normal kid. It was harder for him to be sure when there wasn’t any real evidence.
“I thought I was rescuing you.”
“Yeah,” Claire murmured. “I did too.”
Zach swallowed, trying to think of something to assure her that he didn’t, couldn’t possibly, think of leaving her alone. “If I was there, like when you asked me to be your date maybe...”
“He would have killed you too,” she said firmly. “He almost...”
They stood together in silence. Companionable, uncomfortable silence.
“…I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s not your fault. Doing all of that stuff like campaigning for me and telling me to embrace my inner freak. You couldn’t know what it would lead to, and...I’m glad you did.”
“I wanted to see you get the crown. I wanted to see the look on Jackie’s face as you—man, that’s morbid after what happened to her. I just...” he shrugged, “I wanted to cheer you on.”
“Hey, I’m the cheerleader here.”
“You don’t think I’m up for role reversal?” Zach smirked, happy to be back on familiar ground with her. Even if it meant poking fun at himself.
But Claire gave him that soft, sad smile she often did since they had grown closer. And Zach always felt a little off balanced by it. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked, “At all?”
“What?”
“All of this. Everything about me! Keeping my secret! You kept saying I should come out to my parents and I couldn’t, not until this happened and what if...what if Jackie’s dead because of me? Because I didn’t tell my dad beforehand! What if I put you and Lyle in danger just by letting you know...”
“I wasn’t telling you to come out to them for the sake of the world, just yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you were worried about being adopted right? If you were the only one in the world, or if this was a family thing like the guy who showed up and saved you.” Zach didn’t want to sound bitter at that part. “You parents could help with that if you asked them. You could find out who you are, the stuff you don’t know.”
“They didn’t give me any answers.”
“Peace of mind, Claire. You may not know everything about yourself but if you’re okay with what you know, then that’s all that matters.”
She bit her lip and smiled at him. It was unconsciously coy and he had to fight back a grin the way she could turn herself on and off, that there was a natural contradiction in how she behaved.
“I think I’m gonna be okay now,” she said, as if finally daring herself to be hopeful. “Even if my dad grounds me for forever, I think if my family can accept me like you do then I’d be happy never thinking about Homecoming again.”
“You’re putting me above the dance, I’m shocked and wondering if you’ve been replaced by brain snatchers.”
Claire playfully swatted him, then, as if on a whim, pulled him into a hug. He could feel how warm her face was resting on his shoulder. “I mean it! You’re my best friend, Zach.”
Zach went still for a moment, before reaching around and hugging her back. His other hand went to situating his headphones out of the way so they wouldn’t get tangled in her hair. “Yeah. You’re mine too.”
She looked into his eyes, and he looked back. If they were completely normal, it would have a perfect opportunity. For what, exactly, that wasn’t really specified in life’s guidelines. But they weren’t anything close to normal and instead they hung on for a minute longer before letting it pass. Letting the unnamed uncertainty of what the future could bring linger and disperse.
...hahahaha, and then right after he got mindwiped by the Hatian. Juuuust like comic book relationships.
Title: By Design
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Zach and Claire
Summary: Claire is different and Zach is different-but-not-the-same. It still works.
Spoilers: Uh, for “Homecoming”? Set after Homecoming but before Fallout. I’m really just running off of memory so apologies if it’s OOC. And you can retcon it after 11 anyway.
Claire was always Zach’s measure of normalcy. Even if they were never the best of friends, he kept the memory of how they used to be as a reminder to himself. Before middle school politics, back when she worried about needing glasses and he was a gangly kid in oversized shirts. She was his link to a time where he wasn’t self-conscious about being a freak, where he was too innocent to know that there were differences between him and the rest of the world. Or at least if there were differences they were inconsequential.
When the blush crept over his face as he found himself checking out the guys in the locker room more than the girls in class, he thought of her. When the Sex Ed videos they played in their sixth period made him roll his eyes in discomfort, Zach in the present tried to categorize what it meant that time he stood by in dumb shock as the football player plowed into her and all he wanted to do was hold her and pray the bones set right.
He went through the stages, went through acceptance and right back into doubt on the bad days, or good, depending on who you asked. They drifted, the thoughts along with Claire, and then he found himself alone. Zach didn’t have time to dwell on it with people like Jackie taking swipes at him in order to secure themselves in the social echelon. And the funny part about it is after Claire left with a flip of her hair, Zach stopped seeing a pressing need to figure it all out.
He took up video, listened to the bands on pirate radio with announcers who didn’t drawl. It wasn’t freakish, it was cosmopolitan. But he still had to walk the hallways with the whispers, so he started wearing headphones. Then he started wearing shirts of his favorite bands to point glibly at his chest when somebody asked what he was listening to and he didn’t have to hear the snide retorts. Band shirts led to subculture references, logos and advertisement of this awkward and hard-forged identity.
So when she pulled him by the headphones one day after class, telling him to brace for a secret, well, he didn’t care much except for the fact she was talking to him in public with her hands on his shoulders.
“Watch this,” she said, “I’m going to need proof.”
He didn’t think she meant him personally. Zach had become better known for his video camera than his personality, which worked out all right in the end. He wasn’t her witness, just the one keeping it in focus. But the thing about Claire he always liked, even when she was a standoffish bitch to him, was that he knew she had something about her if she didn’t spend so much time wrapped up in trying to be like everyone else. He couldn’t say what it was exactly, but he saw it in moments when the guilt kept her back and the small gestures pushed her forward.
“I’m a freak. I can walk through a woodchipper and come out on the other side.”
“No,” he told her, “you’re special. Okay, you’re a freak but that’s cool.”
Claire laughed, in that unsure and self-deprecating way she always did. “It’s creepy.”
“But you are. Being a freak isn’t cool in and of itself, you got to work for it. Even in the fringes of unpopularity,” Zach smirked.
“You make it sound like a choice.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a bit of both. You can be born different but there’s stuff about yourself you can change and be who you want to be. So what you are and what you want to be, they’re both cool. That’s what I like about you.”
Zach’s mouth twitched, listening to the words fall out of his mouth he wondered if it sounded like he was flirting. And he wondered if it mattered, or if he should even care.
Even after she let him in, gave him the honor (he really couldn’t see it as a burden, things weren’t that bad yet) of being the only one who knew about it, he still felt out of her loop. He was always going to be the freak, but she was the once popular girl who “fell” into talking to him. Still, Zach wanted to prove to her, and to himself in some sick way, that he could help her get back some of the normalcy she longed for.
It was right out of the old movies Zach watch, and he avoided the teen flick clichés as much as he could. Boy throwing rocks at the window, wooing the girl down to the dance, where she would be crowned queen and have her moment in the spotlight. She even asked him to be her date. He declined, but he could be her coachman, and she rode with her arms wrapped around his waist in order to get to the game on time.
It was...nice.
He didn’t know about Sylar. That there was some freak, the bad scary kind of freak, going around trying to kill people like Claire. Claire who was real to him, not like those people in New York or the Burnt Toast waitress a few towns over. From Zach’s first person experience, the height of human cruelty was kiddy grade backstabbing, swirlies, and broken self-esteem. Not broken bones like Claire. Not a head split open and blood stained banners.
It was the first time he shook when he looked at her, hearing her talk about it even though she was whole and standing in front of him breathing like any normal kid. It was harder for him to be sure when there wasn’t any real evidence.
“I thought I was rescuing you.”
“Yeah,” Claire murmured. “I did too.”
Zach swallowed, trying to think of something to assure her that he didn’t, couldn’t possibly, think of leaving her alone. “If I was there, like when you asked me to be your date maybe...”
“He would have killed you too,” she said firmly. “He almost...”
They stood together in silence. Companionable, uncomfortable silence.
“…I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s not your fault. Doing all of that stuff like campaigning for me and telling me to embrace my inner freak. You couldn’t know what it would lead to, and...I’m glad you did.”
“I wanted to see you get the crown. I wanted to see the look on Jackie’s face as you—man, that’s morbid after what happened to her. I just...” he shrugged, “I wanted to cheer you on.”
“Hey, I’m the cheerleader here.”
“You don’t think I’m up for role reversal?” Zach smirked, happy to be back on familiar ground with her. Even if it meant poking fun at himself.
But Claire gave him that soft, sad smile she often did since they had grown closer. And Zach always felt a little off balanced by it. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked, “At all?”
“What?”
“All of this. Everything about me! Keeping my secret! You kept saying I should come out to my parents and I couldn’t, not until this happened and what if...what if Jackie’s dead because of me? Because I didn’t tell my dad beforehand! What if I put you and Lyle in danger just by letting you know...”
“I wasn’t telling you to come out to them for the sake of the world, just yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you were worried about being adopted right? If you were the only one in the world, or if this was a family thing like the guy who showed up and saved you.” Zach didn’t want to sound bitter at that part. “You parents could help with that if you asked them. You could find out who you are, the stuff you don’t know.”
“They didn’t give me any answers.”
“Peace of mind, Claire. You may not know everything about yourself but if you’re okay with what you know, then that’s all that matters.”
She bit her lip and smiled at him. It was unconsciously coy and he had to fight back a grin the way she could turn herself on and off, that there was a natural contradiction in how she behaved.
“I think I’m gonna be okay now,” she said, as if finally daring herself to be hopeful. “Even if my dad grounds me for forever, I think if my family can accept me like you do then I’d be happy never thinking about Homecoming again.”
“You’re putting me above the dance, I’m shocked and wondering if you’ve been replaced by brain snatchers.”
Claire playfully swatted him, then, as if on a whim, pulled him into a hug. He could feel how warm her face was resting on his shoulder. “I mean it! You’re my best friend, Zach.”
Zach went still for a moment, before reaching around and hugging her back. His other hand went to situating his headphones out of the way so they wouldn’t get tangled in her hair. “Yeah. You’re mine too.”
She looked into his eyes, and he looked back. If they were completely normal, it would have a perfect opportunity. For what, exactly, that wasn’t really specified in life’s guidelines. But they weren’t anything close to normal and instead they hung on for a minute longer before letting it pass. Letting the unnamed uncertainty of what the future could bring linger and disperse.
...hahahaha, and then right after he got mindwiped by the Hatian. Juuuust like comic book relationships.