Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

Elle used to believe in magic.

She would play with the pretty blue lights that came out of her fingertips, letting them drop from her hands, then catching them before they hit the ground. Or not. Once, at her Grandma's house, she didn't bother to catch them.

She didn't go back to Grandma's after that.

When Daddy took her away to live with him, and gave her a bedroom with only a bed, a sink, and a toilet, a room where some random person came to give her food three times a day, a room where she would wait until Daddy came to get her, to play with her, even though she could never remember the time when they actually played, she would entertain herself with the magic sparks.

Sometimes, when she got a little older, and they let her out of the room, she would wander around, looking through the glass windows and watching the prisoners inside like other children her age watched animals in zoo's, and she would show them her magic.

She never knew when exactly she stopped believing she was magic, but the day she did, the little girl inside her died.

Maybe it was the day her Daddy told her Mommy wasn't going to be coming to see her, because she was dead.

Maybe it was the first day they let her into a prisoner's room to test her power on the man tied to a chair.

Maybe it was when his screams of pain made her smile.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the day her Daddy smiled at her because she could make full grown men scream for mercy.

Sure, there were times, when she sat in the stupid surveillance van with Glasses himself, she would play with her sparks and try and imagine that they were magic. But Noah's glare always made her stop.

She started to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were actually magic when she had given Gabriel a crash course in electric manipulation. But then he had to go and kill her.

Not much was magic after that.

Except, maybe, the way the flames moved as they burned her body to a crisp...

R&R or you shall be raptured.