027. - Thanksgiving backthread spam for Claire.

[brokenweapon]

The dinner had gone well - it was the first Thanksgiving he could remember. People were filtering out of the common room, sleepy and full, a state which Bourne both enjoyed and was wary of (because being sleepy meant you weren't on your game, and not being on your game meant you were dead).

Pretty soon, it was only him and Claire left.

And yet he still wasn't good at talking. Not even to her.

Comments

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

Bourne shrugged. It was just one of those things he knew how to do. "I called up every hotel in Berlin asking for her until I found the right one, then hung up when they tried to connect me to her. From then on it was just a matter of following her to her office."

If he'd been overly concerned with societal norms he would have realized that it was stalkerish behavior. But he'd been on a mission, dammit.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

Still, she's impressed.

"So, then what happened?"

Exposition Theatre~

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"Then..." A sigh. "Then I went to Alexander Platz, where I had told Nicky to meet me. Landy had confirmed that the program I'd been a part of was finished, over...but she said something else. She told me I'd killed two people in Berlin. And that fit with the flashes I'd been having.

"Of course, she was talking about something else - a deal she'd been overseeing that week that had gone sour, and I was framed for it. But I didn't know that.

"I knew Nicky would be under surveillance, so I helped her evade it. She told me I'd never done a mission in Berlin. I was so angry - she thought I was going to shoot her. I was almost angry enough to. But I left. She didn't know where I'd gone."

Sorry my tags are short, but it's more about Jason. Just don't want you to think I'm uninterested.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

Making sure she's following the story, Claire repeats, "So, Landy thought you killed those men, but you were remembering something else, right?"

No worries! Sorry I take so long. xD

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

Bourne nodded. "Right. I had nothing to do with the other event. I was framed. But I went to the hotel that kept popping up in my memories, the place where I'd --" no need to sugarcoat it. "Where I'd murdered a Russian politician and his wife. I'd made it look like a murder-suicide. And I'd orphaned a little girl back in Moscow. I had to go apologize at least, you know? I mean...I couldn't bring her parents back. And it kills me that I can't.

"I checked into the hotel with one of the passports they'd had Interpol flag. Within five minutes, I was surrounded. So I escaped. I had to run through half of Berlin, but I escaped. And I knew right where I was going. I had to find the man who had started it all. My old boss. He'd had Marie killed to save his own skin from being investigated for a shady oil deal. He told me..." His hands started to shake. "He told me I was the reason she was dead."

Bourne took a deep breath, running his hands up over his face and through his short hair. That lingering bit of doubt Abbott had seeded in him was still there - and it was part of why he ran so hard and trained so angrily. Maybe if he fought hard enough he could make it not true.

<3 S'all good, honeybun.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

It wasn't that she was growing used to hearing the darker things Jason was capable of doing and had performed, but Claire was more willing to hear him out. She could accept his lifestyle from before as something from his past and had hopes he could move beyond, could heal and learn.

She reached for a hand after it went through his hair, firmly reminding him of her support and their commitment to work through this. "But it's not true and you have to know this. You have to accept he's a piece of shit and you are not, at.all., responsible for Marie's death. Remember, Jason."

Claire squeezed his hand for added measure, trying to catch his gaze. It wasn't fair, and she felt so horribly for him.

He can never heal. Never. :|

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

A few months earlier, Bourne might have flinched at the sudden contact. Now he was able to accept it. As much as he abhorred the word, this exercise was...therapy. He accepted her hand.

"Was," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He was a piece of shit. He thought I had a gun pointed at him when I confronted him in his hotel room; it was really a tape recorder. He unwittingly confessed all of it to me. When he saw it, he knew he was finished. I left him my gun. Later I heard he took the coward's way out."

And wouldn't the press have had a field day with that one.

"I took the train to Moscow to find the daughter of the people I killed. I'm good at finding people. The assassin who'd killed Marie was still under orders to kill me. I got him into a car wreck, intending to kill him myself. But by the time I got out of my car and over to his..." He shrugged, the motion of a man resigned to accepting what had happened. "I found the Neski girl. I told her the truth, apologized, and left her apartment, still bleeding from where the assassin had shot me." He shrugged again, but this time it was more of an 'Assassins...what're you gonna do, right?' thing than acceptance.

"I kept reading the papers. I picked up The Guardian. Imagine my surprise when I saw that one of their reporters was doing an exposé on my program. On me."

siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh drama-llama

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

Claire slightly opened her hand so that he could let go should he choose, remembering how he hadn't always been so keen on contact. Briefly, her thoughts trailed to Gretchen, how she used to want this normal sort of behavior and touch between friends, loved ones, and how much easier it was now for her to reach out.

Licking her lips, she asked, "What did she say? Who was writing about you?" She felt defensive toward Jason, tough the story was already written. Were she a bird, Claire's feathers would have ruffled up in angry protest against any ill wording toward him.

rofl

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"A British reporter named Simon Ross. He got several articles out; I have no idea how he didn't attract negative attention before I got to him. I told him to meet me at Waterloo Station and tried to get as much information out of him as I could. Then I tried to lead him to safety." He'd long since ceased to question his ability to track every camera's line of sight in the main terminal, and his uncanny ability to predict the CIA's next moves. "Another asset took him out before I could get the chance."

His hand was still in hers. And he didn't mind.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

Claire could only nod, unsure of what to say.

"And the girl in Russia? What happened with her?"

Because she was looking for more detail there, how she reacted, if she forgave him.

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"She was in shock. I don't blame her. I didn't stick around long enough to see if she forgave me. But when I left, she was crying.

"I hope what I told her helps. I hope she's happier now, knowing her mother didn't kill her father and then herself. Not like the reality is much better. They're still dead."

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

"Understandable. On all counts. And...I think you did the right thing. It's easier knowing. At first, I didn't know it was Sylar's fault for Meredith's death." Claire paused at the onslaught of unhappy memories, but pressed on, swallowing hard. "It helps knowing."

She fell against his side gently, closing her eyes. She didn't have to play games with Jason. She could relax and feel safe here, as emotional and exposing as their alone time could be.

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. He still wasn't good at empathy, or sympathy. Or really any of the '-mpathy' words.

What else was there to say? The rest of his story could wait. If she felt safe here, if she could be calm leaning against his side, then who was he to begrudge her that? Especially here on the Barge, where it was difficult to feel safe. Slowly, he put a gentle arm around her shoulder.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

She shook her head, frowning. "Stop it, you don't have to say that. I didn't tell you because I wanted sympathy, I told you to try and put yourself at ease, because, as usual, I can sort of relate to the fucked-up-ness."

Because sometimes, fuck is the only word good enough.

Claire drew in a deep breath and released it just as easily. "We make some team, huh?"

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"Claire, I said it because I am sorry," he said. Had she not known him long enough to know he didn't say what he didn't mean?

But at least she could relate. It was in some ways a blessing - so she knew what he meant - but it was also a curse. She shouldn't have had to go through those sorts of things.

"Yeah," he said, trying to crack a smile, "some team."

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

"I know," she said softly, pressing into his side for forgiveness at her being short with him. "Sorry. I know you meant it."

Claire craned her head to look upward at his face, her cheek still pressed against his shoulder. She reached for the arm around her and linked her fingers into Jason's hand, not saying anything but her eyes saying just enough.

HERE, HAVE SOME RAMBLY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

It was funny. He was getting used to having her around. Yes, it had taken him a while, and he still couldn't always express himself properly, but Claire had definitely helped him heal. When he had come onto the Barge, it had been only six short bloody weeks since Marie's death, and he hadn't been able to deal with it. Since then, he'd made great strides - and most of it was due to Claire's assistance.

He still wasn't over it. Not completely. He doubted he ever would be, and he kept his deal with the Admiral in mind. But he also had to come to grips with the fact that he actually really liked Claire. A lot. They were good friends at the very least.

LOVE.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

"I think it's sleepytime." She gave pause, debating her next choice of words. "Walk me to my cabin?"

Part of her wanted to stay here, out of fatigue and out of comfort, but Claire couldn't find the words to ask. For once.

<3

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"Of course," Bourne said, standing up after a moment.

"And next time, you have to tell me more about your life, okay?" he asked as they left towards her cabin. "I feel like I'm talking too much."

For a man of as few words as Jason, he really had been talking a lot. She seemed to do that to him.