Participants:
| Scene Title | Borrowed Time Runs Out |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Sometimes even when you're living on borrowed time, you can't see the end coming. |
| Date | November 9, 2014 |
Elisabeth and Ygraine's Flat
The coffee cup fell from her hand and shattered on the kitchen floor, spraying hot coffee across the worn linoleum.
…ing News: Former NYPD officer slain in gruesome Sylar-esque murder…
Moving mechanically, Elisabeth reaches for the remote control and turns up the television's volume. Her phone is buzzing with texts but she is riveted by the image of her own face.
"… Although they will not comment on specifics regarding an ongoing investigation, the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI are actively involved with the NYPD on this case. A full investigation is being conducted, and a source inside the investigation has indicated that the man once known as Sylar is already being questioned and appears to be cooperating fully …"
Nausea surges through her. Pivoting on a heel, she makes it to the kitchen sink to be sick, retching hard as tears stream down her face. Thunder rolls through the apartment in a bone-deep hum and she finds herself unable to stop the sudden tremors that wrack her body.
She wasn't supposed to die. Not here, not now. WHY? Oh God… why?
Panic roars higher, dumping more adrenaline into her bloodstream. Can't breathe! Can't breathe!
Elisabeth slides down the cabinet, wrapping her arms around her legs as she curls into a fetal ball on the floor and buries her face against her knees. Each heartbeat booms in her chest and it feels like it might come right out through her ribcage. Deep bass sound just barely at the threshold of human hearing throbs unchecked through the room and her vision tunnels.
All my fault. All my fault. The words thunder through her mind in cadence with each heavy beat of her heart.
As her vision grays completely out, the hindbrain's self-preservation instinct kicks in and she suddenly pulls in a breath, then expels it in a harsh sob. Once loosed, the floodgates open and she can't stop the tidal wave of fear and despair.
Their borrowed time — time in which she's finally found a way out of the depths of war and constant vigilance and anxiety — is done. Tears where they are warranted… and for just these few moments, alone in this house, she doesn't have to be strong for anyone else, she can allow herself to grieve. All too soon, she'll have to be the strong one again.