What?

She had gone there for help. Blindly thinking that the answers she wanted, the answers she needed were just beyond glass doors. Claire's look pleaded with hers, and she saw the frustration in Peter's gaze as well, but the answers were all she'd been asking for. She didn't want the rest of it, she didn't want to become part of some cause to put an end to whatever else was going on. She was done with that, or at the very least trying to be.

Instead of the help she had sought she was forced into isolation. Something was wrong inside of her, and no one even wanted to try and fix her. There were far more important things to look into, and so Elle was simply put away for now.

Like some sort of item at a pawn shop that no one knew where the ticket was left at. Sitting on the shelf, until someone thought so much as to realize that she was still there waiting. Heavy chains that barely gave her the expanse of the room, seemed more in place just to keep her in her place rather than to allow her any freedoms. If she could've laughed without triggering a relapse of her ability misfiring she would've found some sort of humor in the fact that no matter which building held the answers they all still just felt it was easier to simply lock her up.

It was hardly funny, and if any emotion was to be found in her at all it was as basic as grief. Huddled in on herself the bindings on her wrists at least held some attempt at keeping her ability grounded. Bare feet forcing whatever current was left in her to discharge without having a way out of her safely wasn't helping her at all. If they thought padding the metal cuffs was going to save her... going to fix her they had been wrong. She felt everything. The sorrow of losing the last parent she had alive kept her chest tight with a pain that was more constant than that of the charges that crackled across her skin.

All she wanted was for it to stop. The pain, the hurt, the agony... everything needed to just stop for once. Always inside of her she thought she could be used to the feeling of it, but this was so very wrong inside of her. Pushing away the guilt, the regret and pain she knew was her fault was easier if she just didn't care about anyone anymore. She had done something horrible to another person, and when she couldn't feel sorry about it she simply stopped feeling anything about it. This though, she couldn't stop feeling. This was running through her like a heated blade through her midsection and part of her wanted to wrap her hands around the hilt and hold it there for an eternity. It wouldn't stop hurting. It needed to stop hurting.

When the door opened, she wanted to pull in on herself more. Defensively taking care of herself, since the method of care they seemed to use with her didn't seem exactly humane at all. The break in her concentration though allowed her ability to race free once more, the spark popping across her hands and causing the rest of her to tense in response. She didn't want to look, didn't want to see the face of whoever was walking toward her because the fear that it would be familiar was too overwhelming, yet she couldn't help but feel edged with curiosity.

Seeing him though brought her from the floor, the cold concrete pressing to bare feet as she let everything that was pure pain, everything that was hurting her, build up for so long that the only relief she could find at all was in letting go. It surged through her with no remorse, with no regret, with no feeling at all except that everything was still not enough.

It would never be enough, and even as he told her that he could take it all... that he could withstand everything she had to give, it still wouldn't be enough. It was something inside of her that needed to be stopped, she was a sociopath... a mistake, a disappointment... a monster.

When she had nothing left in her to give, when her chest was aching from the deep breaths that never filled her lungs and all she wanted to do was be done, she asked.

When she was empty and yet still feeling as if she was filled with such regret, to a point where no amount of pain placed onto someone else would curb the lust she had for revenge, she asked.

When every part of her was praying for silence, to be silenced, to have some sort of end...

When his eyes met hers and his fingers raised, she hoped it would be quick.

When the weight at her wrists was released and she was no longer tethered by chain to the ground, she was unsure of what else to do but to plead for it to just be done. For all the pain to be worth something, all the betrayal, the lies and distrust... she wanted it to be something she could finally give back to him.

He said no.

He said no, and yet he still wanted to fix her, still wanted to help her even after everything she'd done... after everything she'd started all that time ago.

He said no, and yet she was willing to let him try... because maybe she could give something back to him.