Starring:
Summary: After the Saints meeting, Elena takes a time out in the shooting range. Eric joins her. After a few moments of awkwardness, she tells him about Ali and Peter's news.
Dark Future Date: August 11, 2009
If I Lost You
Basement Levels, Phoenix Rising Penthouses
BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM.
Directly after the meeting, Elena's decided to do a bit of target practice. She's got a variety of handguns on the table, and she's got on protective goggles and her fingerless gloves. No earmuffs of any kind to muffle the noise - but she does want to protect her eyes from shrapnel. She's dressed the same way as she was in the meeting, save…well. She has her steel-toed boots on, indicating that she intends to be somewhere after this. Her eyes are focused, and the same, determined set on her jaw is there. After reducing the clip to nil, she slides it out, and reloads.
She aims again.
Her bullets hit her target, scattered around the center, sometimes in the center. Compared to Gene, Eric, Prime, and Jack - hell even Trina, she was a ‘late bloomer’ when it came to firearms training. But she learned quickly, especially once she lost her fear of hurting someone. After that hurdle was breached, she rapidly grew better at it. The noise is loud, ricocheting off the walls of the soundproof walls. The pen is still in her hair.
—
"You have gotten better," Eric Walker's voice comes from the door of the target range. He leans against the frame, still just in t-shirt and jeans. Over one shoulder is a duffle bag; one hand is on the strap of the duffle, the other in his pocket. He stands there and watches, seemingly not worried about the sound at all.
"Mind company?" Eric asks quietly as he strolls further into the room. A raised eyebrow is the only thing that seems to be added to the question. There is more than enough room in the room for the two of them. Not waiting for an answer he strolls over to the berth next to her, setting the satchel down on the ground next to him.
—
She doesn't say anything at the first, Elena concentrating on unloading her clip in front of the target. When that's spent, she depresses a button so the target would fly towards her along the expanse of the shooting range. She removes the target, and clips a new one. Whatever she's doing, or thinking, she’s engrossed in it. It's as if she doesn't know Eric's right there, or she's heard him.
Finally, after she's set up a new target, speeding it along down the line with a press of a button, she looks over at him. "I don't mind," she says simply. There's a hint of a smile on her face, but it's a little distant. She lowers her eyes to what she's doing again. She snaps the clip in, and draws back the slide. Hearing the telltale click, she lifts the gun again with both hands, locking her gun arm in three places.
Proper form. She HAS gotten better.
When she fires, the kickback shoving at her arm considering how large the slugs of a Desert Eagle is, she manages to ride it out. Her body barely moves, her standing position anchored into the floor.
—
Watching the woman empty the clip downrange Eric gets a distinct feeling that well…she's concentrating on something. Thinking on something, and thinking quite hard. Just what is she thinking though? Crouching down he unzips the bag, first pulling out a compact submachine gun. MP-7. Top of the line new model with Hypervelocity rounds. Checking the action he pulls it close into his shoulder and aims downrange.
As he squeezes the trigger the gun spits fire downrange, one long burst of fire instead of the single shot thunder of her own gun.
He pauses after a second of fire, nodding slightly to himself as he notices the pattern on the target. The gun is pulled up to aim at the roof for a moment, smoke wafting from the barrel.
"…you sure?" He asks after a moment, not looking at her. "You seem…distracted."
—
She is thinking about something. It was sad, but shooting bullets in a stationary target was almost therapeutic. Elena's eyes narrow in concentration through her visor, her lips pressed in a soft line as she examines her progress bullet per bullet. When Eric brings out the freaking submachine gun, she can't help but pause and stare at it. She never carried anything heavier than a handgun - she liked her speed. The Saints boys were all stronger than her; they can carry the heavy artillery.
The shot was actually a burst of fire. It nearly shreds the target from where she is. A little overkill? Maybe he was thinking of what it would do to Mortensen’s head.
She squints at the pattern in the target. What the crap is he doing?
When he speaks up, she looks at him. She nods, paying attention to her guns again. There was something subdued about her today, or at least the warmth she usually shows Eric is lacking….some of it is still there, a quiet presence on the booth next to him, but nothing more than that. "I'm just thinking about everything I have to do in the next couple of days," she says. "Supplies run, surveillance. I need to talk to Daphne too. So…I've…got a lot on my plate."
—
Yes. Eric is thinking about that, very intent on it in fact. Focusing on things helps him, focusing on throwing lead downrange helps him not think about all kinds of things that have happened. He glances over at her then raising an eyebrow then. "…you want to try it?" He asks curiously. "It’s lighter than your hand cannons…" He says with a slight smirk as he offers the compact weapon towards her.
Oh he has bigger toys yes, but they are still in the bag it seems.
"These are cutting edge tech, I got them to able cut through all kinds of armor, including some of the kinds that Evolved can produce," He adds after a moment, a darkness falling over his face for a moment before he shakes it away.
"…ah…well yes, we all do have things to do over the next few days," He murmurs softly. There is a pause then before he shakes his head. "…but that’s not all is it?" He asks with a slight smirk coming to his lips.
—
"….how the hell can that thing be lighter than my…" Don't say hellfire cannons. Don't say hellfire cannons. "…guns?" Elena props a hand on her hip, inclining her head at him. At least he's still talking to him, but it's easier when he's got the conversation focused on something they can both agree with. But when he offers to let her try it, she pauses, and then leaves her booth, and steps around to join him in his. She lifts a hand out wordlessly, to take the gun.
His explanation causes her to nod. "From your overseas development firms," she supplies. She hefts the gun - it was, indeed, lighter. "I take it this is some sort of brand new alloy? Have you showed this to Gene yet?" she asks. She awkwardly balances it against her shoulder. She's not used to wielding big guns. Anchoring the butt of it against the hollow of her shoulder, she lifts the rifle and tries a burst. It goes wide, of course. She's not used to these guns.
"…no, that's all. What else could it be?" she says her eyes on the target that she's not hitting. She's always been a very bad liar, but she's -so- not telling him.
—
"Polymers and different composites," Eric replies before he smirks. "…and guns? You mean cannons?" Hellfire cannons. Yes. He would say it but he would laugh a lot. So might she. He watches her as she steps over, moving aside to let her up to the firing deck. His arms cross over his chest as he watches her.
"No…it’s a fairly common composite, just a new way of making it. The guns on the bikes are what are made from the new alloy, with the case less rounds so we don’t leave evidence." He blinks slightly before he sighs and shakes his head. He hesitates for a moment, but he can't stand to see a gun so mistreated.
"Here," He murmurs softly as he unfolds his arms, his hands coming up to touch her shoulder and the other touches the gun before he pulls it tighter against his shoulder, standing off to the side of her for the moment.
"Tighter here, and you have to compensate for the recoil, hold it down as it tries to rise."
He's is quiet for a moment before he smirks, looking at the gun and not at her. "…and you always have been a shitty liar Elena."
—
Hellfire cannons!
She'll never. Ever. EVER live down sitting down with Eric and Jaden watching the most hilarious porn movie known to man. To think she thought a movie simply named 'Pirates' would have….THAT STUFF in it. Still, Elena glances towards the target, and when Eric steps around her, she blinks. "…what are you…?" She falls quiet at the light touch, and his arm drawing her own to lock the thing into her shoulder. She nods, and lifts up the gun.
"Anchor it a little bit downward then?" she murmurs, doing her best to concentrate on what she's doing, shifting her legs to make herself a little more stable. She doesn't say anything about being called a shitty liar. Instead, she lines up her sights, and squeezes the trigger. The short burst shreds the paper, near the bottom of the bulls eye. See? She learned quickly - the shot wasn't perfect, but she at least hit the square.
"It's nothing. Just stuff." Which, for the most part, is true? "I've got a lot to do before I could sleep tonight." She lowers the gun and turns to him, handing him the weapon delicately. She meets his eyes at least, but there's -something- there she's not saying.
—
No she won't, it wasn't like any of them…except possibly Jaden…realized what it really was. Eric would have been terribly embarrassed, but he was too busy laughing at the silliness of it all. Because my oh my it was silly. "…trying to show you how to not bruise your shoulder." He replies with a slight smirk. Sliding around behind her a moment he hrmms and nods at her second attempt.
"Better…but there…" He puts one hand lightly on her arm, aiming just a little bit low. "…now this time don't try to cancel out the recoil so much. Let it ride up just a little bit and you should cut the target in two with on burst." He murmurs towards her.
As she says the last though he pauses a moment. He looks into her eyes for a long moment before his own eyes close and he nods. "Very well," He murmurs softly before he turns away then. "…I'll let you get back to your practice then." He says, not knowing just /why/ the sudden warmth that was coming back between them was suddenly cut off, not understanding, but…at least for now…not demanding any answers.
After all. She always said it. Now was not the time.
At least. That’s what he would like to do.
"I guess it’s none of my business then," He adds after a moments silence before he crouches down to pick up something else from the bag. A large bore pistol about the size of her DE's. Obviously not the same make though.
—
She does better with his guidance, Elena popping off a few more bursts before she returns it. She presses the button and she takes the paper with her. She folds it, and tucks it in her back pocket. "Thanks," she tells him simply. Lesson was over, and he would probably want to practice himself. She takes a step down from the shooting area, and works the visor off her eyes. She doesn't really look at him much, until his subdued tone reaches her ears.
Truth be told, it WAS his business. But at the same time, she said it herself. She had to be strong, and she can't back out from that now. Still, she knows she hurt him. Even if he didn't say anything…..he fought his battles with her carefully. The only time he really argued was when she put herself on the line.
Her jaw sets. Part of her wanted to pound her head into the wall and wake up from all of this. Back to two years ago, in the library, being a college girl. But ….wishing for that was a moot point these days.
She watches his back as he works. But she nods, turning to the side and stepping away from him. She doesn't say anything else. But…
She exhales, and reaches out to touch his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I'm just…I'm really tired. You know me, whatever bothers me, and it’ll pass in the morning." A concession. Rare enough but….he came back from the dead and came back just so he could aid Jack and the rest of them. He only wanted to be supportive. She couldn't help but feel like a bitch just now. She knew being closed off was like punching him in the face.
—
He holds the MP-7 loosely in one hand before aiming it downrange. Not much left in the clip, and one handed he points. The trigger is depressed and in a flash of noise and fire the remaining round are hurled downrange to shred what’s left of the target. His arm rises with the recoil before finally stopping as the weapon empties itself.
He breathes out a long sigh as the cooling weapon hisses in his hand before he just turns to look over his shoulder towards her. He smiles slightly before shrugging. "You're welcome," He answers easily enough.
He sets the sub gun down on the bench in front of him before glancing at the pistol. Yes. He fought battles against her carefully, choosing his time and place. This wasn't the right time, wasn't the right place. He would lose, and that wasn't what he was fighting for.
He opens his mouth though to ask a question that was framed in his mind, but the moment passes and he closes it again without saying anything. No there would be time for questions later. Checking the action on the big pistol he aims downrange a moment, dropping into a firing stance out of habit.
Then he feels the touch on his shoulder. He pauses, turning slightly to look towards her. His face is unreadable for a long moment before it breaks into a wry, half amused and half exasperated smile. "…it doesn’t always…but I know." He shakes his head. "…and it must be something big to actually get an apology out of you." A ghost of the teasing before he shakes his head. "…go on then, I'll clean up here."
—
"Maybe not always, but it's not like…" But it was the same spiel. The same old. Elena drops her hand and closing her eyes. "I just….like I said, I'm just tired. I need to sleep, but I can't because I have to visit…." She falls quiet. She doesn't like talking about that either. She didn't like talking about the personal, unless things had to be said. "I don't mean to….I know it hurt just now." She could read him. He's boasted before about how well he could read her. How well he knew her. But it worked the other way around. She just…didn't say it out loud very often.
When he teases her, she doesn't smile back. She just nods, and steps around him, going back to the stall she was in so she could clean and pack up her gear. She falls quiet then. What could she say? She didn't have a right. And she does want him to be happy. She can't be selfish, not to him of all people. He gave so much of himself to what she cared about.
"I shouldn't…whatever I'm feeling; I shouldn't take it out on you. I know you're trying to help. I know you're just….trying to be there for me. It's not your fault I don't like….especially these days I just can't seem to express myself articulately. But I know I shouldn't treat you like that. You left the hospital three months before you should've so you could come back here. You felt strongly enough about the Saints to come back despite it all. So….I know…I was being a little unfair."
She pauses.
"I didn't mean to hurt you like that."
—
"Then go get some sleep," Eric replies easily enough. A slight smile on his face as he glances over his shoulder towards her. "Run your errands and get things done, then get some rest Elena," He sighs with a sigh and a shrug. "You're going to need it, it will be a very busy week for all of us, and I know how you need your beauty sleep." He adds after a moment’s thought the teasing smile on his face.
The smile falls quickly enough before he raises his pistol, held easily in one hand, the other one casually sliding into his pocket. "…Jarvis. Stage three course activate." He calls out to the air, and the targets downrange fold up into the roof. Other targets unfold from the top of the room, small balls attached to wires that start to bob and weave around. He aims his weapon downrange, eyes narrowing as he follows them. His gun sounds like thunder in the confined space, ripping off three round bursts to shatter the moving targets as he keeps his eyes focoused on his work.
"…don't worry about it," He finally says as his gun falls silent again. "…it’s just how it has to be. Don't work yourself up about it. I'll live." He smirks slightly at that. "I'm quite good at that if you haven’t noticed." Yes. He didn't have to come back. She knows it, the rest of them know it. He still isn’t sure though if he came back for them.
Or for her.
He shakes his head slightly before he smiles once more, still not looking at her. "…like I said. Don't worry about it Elena."
—
Don't worry about it. Elena looks over at him quietly even as he tries to hide. She turns around, opening her mouth - perhaps to repeat what she told him a long time ago. That he didn't have to be so patient with her. That he could get mad at her all he wants, so long as he tells her what's bothering him. She wonders if he remembers, but when he turns away again to do what he does, she shuts her mouth with a click. "Okay," is all she says, packing up her handguns and sliding them into the holsters.
She turns around then, slinging them around her hips. The harness actually looked like what girls would wear as garters, only they were thicker, more durable, and meant to be worn outside of clothing than the inside. And then, there are the extra straps to secure them around her thighs over pants. But by the way she's gearing up; she has absolutely no intentions of going to bed, especially when she checks one of her handguns to make sure it's fully loaded.
"I'll be back when I can," she tells him, turning to start moving for the door. Her hand moves forward, dragging her jacket with her along the way. It had been hanging off one of the spare tables inside the shooting range.
—
As long as he tells her what’s bothering him. Eric does remember that conversation, some two years ago over a glass of sangria. He remembers it very well; his eyes close as she turns away. He knows that she is without leaving. He should just go right ahead and let her leave. Better for everyone. However…it’s just really not in him to let her go like that. They hurt each other just now, and he knows it as well as she does.
His gun is set down as he half turns towards her, watching her quietly as she packs up all the heat. He sighs slightly and then turns fully towards her and takes a step forwards as she has her back to him. His hand reaches out, one settling down on her shoulder, and the other hesitantly sliding around her waist for just a moment to hold her still.
"I'm not angry Elena," He murmurs for that moment of contact, that moment where he holds her. "…I'm just worried about you. Whatever it might be, tell me when you’re ready." He sighs slightly as he lets her go, taking a step back with that smile on his face.
"…and shouldn't you take an umbrella with you? It might rain."
—
She's halfway out the door after shrugging on her jacket, when the hand on her shoulder stops her, and the arm curling around her waist to hold her there. Elena could feel his breath tickling at the hairs on top of her head, he was much taller than her after all. Still, it works, she stops in her tracks. She could feel the heavy weight of the guns against her thighs - if anything it'll give her a good workout. She didn't even feel him approach, she was preoccupied with what she has to check out in the garage before she goes after all.
She takes a breath, and lets it go slowly, glancing down at the gentle fingers curled over her ribcage. She hesitates for a moment, and rests her fingertips on his knuckles afterwards, there against her side. "I don't mean to," she tells him honestly. "….it's just…" When he lets her go, she turns around fully to face him. "Sylar's alive," she tells him. "Petrelli…" The current timeline's Peter. The one who married Kate. "He lied about killing him. He killed….he killed Megan Deatley." Jack would have to tell Lachlan, being one of his best friends. But the fact that Petrelli lied was grating at her. The man she knew was gone utterly.
And when he reminds her about the weather, she shakes her head. "I'm okay. It's just water even if I get caught in it." She didn't like bringing a lot of stuff with her unless she was on a supplies run, where she's -required- to bring a ton of stuff. But when it comes to personal visits like these, she likes to travel light.
—
It feels good to have his arms around her again, he hasn't done something like that in two years. He forgot how warm she was how pleasant, how nice she even smelled. Eric's eyes close for a moment as he refreshes his memory on her. He lets a smile pass across his face before he lets her go now. "…your mind isn't all here." He adds, knowing that he surprised her with that.
Surprised lightly by the touch he blinks slightly towards her before he sighs. "…I know. It’s just everything at…" Then he pauses and steps away from her, drawing in a sharp intake of breath. "Sylar?" He hisses, the worry jumping into eyes in half a moment before the rest of the statement hits. "Megan…" He never met her but once. "…I'm…god. Poor Lachlan," He murmurs before he growls. "…damn Petrelli…" He adds under his breath.
As she steps away though he smirks slightly. "…I know, but your mascara will run." He adds, forcing a smile onto his face and a teasing note once more into his face. She doesn’t even wear mascara. He knows that before he shakes his head, falling into something more serious.
"…just…be careful Elena. If I lost you…" He pauses then, not finishing the statement. "…just…be careful."
—
"I don't know…if he's been in contact with her. Lachlan hasn't mentioned her for a while but they used to be close," Elena says, remembering the day in the park when she first met Megan. And when he reacts to news on Sylar, she nods. "You know what that means. With humans being picked off left and right and shipped off to be isolated from the rest of the Evolved populace…" That meant that mostly Evolved are walking the streets freely these days, ripe for the picking. It was hunting season for the serial killer. He might not even need a list anymore.
Yes. Damn Petrelli. "I told Jack and Trina before they left," she says. "Not just for them to be careful but also because….we can't let our people work with his group anymore. He can't be trusted, if he lies over something this big." She's been careful to keep the Saints away from the Petrelli Resistance Group anyway, and it wasn't all due to personal reasons. He just wasn't the man she knew anymore.
She can't help but smile at the quip. She doesn't wear mascara - and if she did, it'd be waterproof. Whatever Jadinne or Candy could supply. "Yeah yeah yeah," she says, a playful roll of her eyes as things shift back to status quo between them. She tugs up her collar. "Don't wait up for me," she tells him, turning to go.
She stops at what he says. She turns back around slowly, meeting his eyes. Her hand twitches, and hesitates, but it lifts up to rest her fingers gently on his cheek.
"You came back from the dead twice," she says softly. "Every time I was still there. I'm not going anywhere, Eric."
—
"…yes, it’s like a buffet for the bastard," Eric hisses. If there is one person he hates as must as Nathan is Sylar. Just because he knows that all his friends are that man's targets. He makes him worried like nothing else in the world can. A shake of his head before he snarls and turns away lightly. Damn him. Damn Petrelli for not telling anyone.
"No, no of course not, I won't put anything into his damn group either," He snarls. Not that he had anyway, but now he definitely won't.
There. She smiled. He wins. It’s a small victory, but it’s a victory none the less. He'll take ones here he can get them. A soft sigh before he turns back towards her again.
"…I'll try not to, be home before midnight though," he adds with a smirk towards her.
"I'll keep coming back you know, as long as you stay around."
—
"I promise nothing," Elena says with a grin. But at the last, she nods. "I'll do that then. Stick around." She inclines her head at him, and then she turns to head out of the shooting range. "Goodnight, Eric." Brisk steps take her down the hall, her hands sliding in her pockets. At the very end of it, she hits the button on the elevator, and up she goes. She was burning the evening hours and there might be more things to do when she gets back.