Heroes Fic: What's Yours is Mine
Title: What's Yours is Mine
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Peter, Nathan, Claire
Rating: PG
Prompt: 96 Writer's Choice - Fly
Word Count: 2,177
Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.
Summary: Episode tag to S3 Dual. Peter after he rescues an ungrateful Nathan.
Peter sank heavily onto the ground, staring into the night sky for a sign of Nathan, but his brother was already long gone. He blew a breath through his nose as his body’s various aches and pains made themselves known. It had been a while since he had felt pain for so long; Claire’s power usually made it all go away. He had hoped the formula he took would’ve given him back all of his abilities, but clearly he was missing them. All he could do now was fly.
That hadn’t been the plan. Flint couldn’t be burned, and Peter thought if he took the formula then he would immediately gain access to Flint’s and Nathan’s powers. Then he could fly safely through the flames. Instead, he was burned and bruised and worst of all, Nathan could’ve saved himself. Of course Peter would’ve been killed in the fire, and it appeared Nathan wouldn’t even have bothered to help him out.
Peter’s eyes slipped closed and he jerked awake. His ribs ached from where Mohinder and then Nathan had hit him, and he knew his leg was bruised from the pipe. He needed to check on his mom and Claire, but first he had to get himself checked out.
Reluctantly standing, Peter shot out into the sky, searching for a decent hospital.
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Sitting in the waiting room, Peter filled out the forms silently. It was a busy night and so he would have to wait. He wondered if he could spontaneously pass out and be seen faster. More than that he was worried; Sylar had gone after his father for revenge, would he go after Angela now? He slipped the cell phone out of his pocket and considered calling but then changed his mind. He wouldn’t be much use to anyone right now anyway.
“Peter?”
He looked up at the sound of his name, and blinked a few times before his vision cleared enough to recognize the nurse striding towards him. His mind searched hazily for her name. “Karen?” They had been in the nursing program together. It seemed so long ago now.
“It is you!” she said brightly. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? How are you?”
“Well not doing too great at the moment,” he laughed.
“Oh right, the ER. Well let me check on where you are in the queue, okay?”
“Thanks.”
He watched her walk back to the counter, a tall figure in bright pink scrubs. After learning about his powers and quitting his job, he had pretty much lost all contact with his old friends. He wondered if they would take him back now. Sure he still had an ability, but it was broken, and he wasn’t sure he even really wanted it.
Karen came back, chart in hand and bent down a bit to talk to him. “I can bring you back now, Peter, get you checked out.” He nodded and allowed her to help him up, grimacing at the pain in his ribs.
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“So how’d this happen?” Karen asked. Peter was waiting to be taken down to get a couple of X-rays, and Karen had decided to stay with him.
“Oh you know, family’s a bitch,” Peter grinned. Karen’s eyes widened. “It was a mugging actually,” Peter said with a serious voice.
Karen nodded sympathetically.
“You know…” she began tentatively. “Last year I heard that you were dead. So this was a bit of a shock.”
“Yeah, I heard something like that too,” he grimaced. He really did not want to be having this conversation.
“So what happened?”
“I… uh…”
“Karen, they need you in 302,” a woman said, popping her head in the door.
Saved by the floating head, Peter thought with a sigh.
“Oh, okay,” Karen said with some disappointment. “See you in a minute, Peter.”
Peter decided that it was probably a bad idea to go back to his old friends.
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Luckily for Peter, he got his X-rays and was treated all without seeing Karen again. She must’ve been busy, because he knew she wanted the full story about what happened on election night. The verdict on his injuries was one broken rib and two cracked ones, and a really swollen bruise on his leg along with a smattering of burns. They taped his ribs and gave him some burn cream and painkillers, and three hours after arriving at the hospital he was finally able to leave.
Peter powered his phone back up and was greeted with a notification that he had missed seven calls from Claire. He felt badly about it, he should have let someone know where he was. He checked his voicemail, and listened to her message.
“Peter, it’s Claire again. Are you okay? Look - Sylar showed up at the Company, but he’s uh… it’s over and we’re back at Angela’s. So… don’t go back to the Company… really don’t. Just come here. And call me. Please? Call me back.”
He considered flying back to his mother’s, but he could barely see straight and so hailed a cab. His head was spinning. After everything that happened tonight… now to know that Sylar had in fact gone after his mother. He should’ve been there, he should’ve… He shook his head, and tried to stop thinking. Claire hadn’t said that anybody was hurt, but she hadn’t said they were all alright either. He pressed his head against the window and tried to focus on the passing lights, tried not to think.
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When Peter finally arrived at his mother’s, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened it and walked into the dim foyer. He opened his mouth to ask if anyone was home but didn’t get out a syllable before he saw Claire rushing towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and he winced. “Watch the ribs, watch the ribs,” he mumbled.
“Oh, sorry,” she responded, stepping back. The light over his head came on and he saw Noah and his mother standing in the doorway to the sitting room.
“Peter, thank God,” Angela whispered, all but pushing Claire out of the way as she tentatively embraced him. “Are you alright?” she asked, cupping his face in her hands.
“Just a little bruised,” he replied.
“And Pinehearst?”
“Destroyed,” he said.
“And Nathan?” she pressed.
“He made it out,” Peter said, sticking with the simplest of explanations. I saved him, he thought. I saved him and he threw it back in my face. He was suddenly so very tired, so very exhausted. He flanked at his mother, at Claire’s concerned face, at Bennett, and sighed. They all got out all right, that was all that mattered. Everyone he cared for was alive.
“I’m tired,” Peter announced, pushing past Angela and heading for the stairs. He felt their gazes on him as he walked the route to his old bedroom, but he didn’t turn around.
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Hours later Peter woke to find sunlight streaming through the windows. He groaned, rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut. He heard the rumble of Bennett’s voice downstairs and wondered why he was still there.
Peter’s ribs were sore and he let out a muffled curse as realization suddenly dawned on him. He had been near Claire last night, but her power had not become his. His ability was broken. He remembered the moment he had grasped on to Nathan after taking the formula. A shock had pulsed through his hand as it touched his brother, electricity running through his veins and then he had flown.
He wondered if he could do the same with Claire, if he just had to touch her with the intent of healing and then he would be able to. But would he lose his ability to fly if he did that? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to try it if there was a chance that he could only have one power at a time. It was probably irrational and childish, but he didn’t want to lose the part of him that he had taken from Nathan.
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Peter came out of the bathroom, dressed and showered, to find Claire sitting on the end of his bed. She looked up as he entered, and Peter saw that her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying. He sat beside her, staring at the floor, and for a long time neither of them said anything.
“Meredith is dead,” Claire finally whispered. He turned to her, and saw that she looked surprised, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It took Peter longer than it should have to remember that Meredith was Claire’s biological mother, and at the same time his mind dug up an ancient conversation he had with Nathan about a blonde bombshell he met in Texas.
“Sylar?” he asked.
Claire nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“I killed him,” Claire said with vehemence. “I killed him.”
This surprised Peter and he put a hand on hers. “How?”
“Shard of glass through the back of his head - just like he did to you before. I didn’t… I didn’t even hesitate, just jammed it in.”
He tried to dissect her tone, tried to understand what she was feeling as she recounted that event. Was she sad, guilty, satisfied? He couldn’t tell. Peter didn’t even know how it made him feel. For a short time he thought Sylar was his brother, he had even gone to the future and met a man that was so very different, so very much better than Peter had ever imagined. But the Sylar in the future still thought they were related, while the night before his own Sylar had come to the realization that they were not. And so the only thing good he found in that future was now destroyed.
“Sylar told us that he was the one who killed Arthur,” Claire said. “What happened?”
“I couldn’t do it,” Peter said slowly. “I had my opportunity and I didn’t take it. He would have killed me if Sylar hadn’t shown up.”
Claire laughed then, cold and bitter. “He saved you? He saved you and then went to the Company to kill my Dad and Meredith and Angela, and me.”
“He said that I didn’t have anything he wanted,” Peter elaborated.
Claire said nothing at this and there was a moment of tense silence before she spoke. “What happened? After Arthur died… with the formula and… and Nathan?”
Peter licked his lip as he tried to figure out how to explain everything that went down at Pinehearst. The night had been a whirlwind. “Nathan was… he was running the operation. Some of his people - Flint and Knox - they helped me destroy the formula.” He laughed lightly at the next bit. “Flint said it was because the formula would mean he wasn’t ‘special’ anymore.”
“And then?” she pressed, moving closer to him.
“Nathan was angry… angry at me. But then Flint, he, he set the formula on fire and the whole room was about to go up, with Nathan right in the middle. So I… I grabbed the last of the formula and injected myself with it - to save him. I grabbed him and flew out the window before the whole place up.”
“So you… you have your abilities back?” Claire said and she sounded hopeful and relieved.
“Not exactly… there’s something wrong with it. I can only hold on to one ability at a time.”
“Oh. And Nathan… he didn’t come back with you so…”
“We’re not exactly… on the best of terms right now,” Peter said tersely. “I don’t know if we ever will be.”
Peter figured that Claire probably was not very surprised. However she did seem to sympathize with Peter, knowing well what that rift would mean to him. She leaned against him, holding onto his hand and rubbing it lightly with her thumb. Peter found himself relaxing into her touch and he closed his eyes.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried about you,” Claire whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. He let out a hiss of pain as she jostled his injured ribs. She pulled away abruptly. “You’re hurt? Can you… can you take my power to heal it?”
“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” Peter said softly, drawing her back against him. “And for now… if I can only do one thing… I just… I want to be able to fly.”
Peter couldn’t feel more relieved that she accepted this response, that she didn’t press him about it or say what he knew she was thinking. The unspoken “like Nathan” hung in the air unpleasantly. When all of this began he had been so excited at the prospect of flying, and he tried to make himself believe that was the reason he wanted to keep that ability now. Because if he didn’t then he would have to acknowledge that he only wanted it because it was Nathan’s, and Peter didn’t know when he could or would be near his brother again.
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Peter, Nathan, Claire
Rating: PG
Prompt: 96 Writer's Choice - Fly
Word Count: 2,177
Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.
Summary: Episode tag to S3 Dual. Peter after he rescues an ungrateful Nathan.
Peter sank heavily onto the ground, staring into the night sky for a sign of Nathan, but his brother was already long gone. He blew a breath through his nose as his body’s various aches and pains made themselves known. It had been a while since he had felt pain for so long; Claire’s power usually made it all go away. He had hoped the formula he took would’ve given him back all of his abilities, but clearly he was missing them. All he could do now was fly.
That hadn’t been the plan. Flint couldn’t be burned, and Peter thought if he took the formula then he would immediately gain access to Flint’s and Nathan’s powers. Then he could fly safely through the flames. Instead, he was burned and bruised and worst of all, Nathan could’ve saved himself. Of course Peter would’ve been killed in the fire, and it appeared Nathan wouldn’t even have bothered to help him out.
Peter’s eyes slipped closed and he jerked awake. His ribs ached from where Mohinder and then Nathan had hit him, and he knew his leg was bruised from the pipe. He needed to check on his mom and Claire, but first he had to get himself checked out.
Reluctantly standing, Peter shot out into the sky, searching for a decent hospital.
----------------------------------
Sitting in the waiting room, Peter filled out the forms silently. It was a busy night and so he would have to wait. He wondered if he could spontaneously pass out and be seen faster. More than that he was worried; Sylar had gone after his father for revenge, would he go after Angela now? He slipped the cell phone out of his pocket and considered calling but then changed his mind. He wouldn’t be much use to anyone right now anyway.
“Peter?”
He looked up at the sound of his name, and blinked a few times before his vision cleared enough to recognize the nurse striding towards him. His mind searched hazily for her name. “Karen?” They had been in the nursing program together. It seemed so long ago now.
“It is you!” she said brightly. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? How are you?”
“Well not doing too great at the moment,” he laughed.
“Oh right, the ER. Well let me check on where you are in the queue, okay?”
“Thanks.”
He watched her walk back to the counter, a tall figure in bright pink scrubs. After learning about his powers and quitting his job, he had pretty much lost all contact with his old friends. He wondered if they would take him back now. Sure he still had an ability, but it was broken, and he wasn’t sure he even really wanted it.
Karen came back, chart in hand and bent down a bit to talk to him. “I can bring you back now, Peter, get you checked out.” He nodded and allowed her to help him up, grimacing at the pain in his ribs.
----------------------------------
“So how’d this happen?” Karen asked. Peter was waiting to be taken down to get a couple of X-rays, and Karen had decided to stay with him.
“Oh you know, family’s a bitch,” Peter grinned. Karen’s eyes widened. “It was a mugging actually,” Peter said with a serious voice.
Karen nodded sympathetically.
“You know…” she began tentatively. “Last year I heard that you were dead. So this was a bit of a shock.”
“Yeah, I heard something like that too,” he grimaced. He really did not want to be having this conversation.
“So what happened?”
“I… uh…”
“Karen, they need you in 302,” a woman said, popping her head in the door.
Saved by the floating head, Peter thought with a sigh.
“Oh, okay,” Karen said with some disappointment. “See you in a minute, Peter.”
Peter decided that it was probably a bad idea to go back to his old friends.
----------------------------------
Luckily for Peter, he got his X-rays and was treated all without seeing Karen again. She must’ve been busy, because he knew she wanted the full story about what happened on election night. The verdict on his injuries was one broken rib and two cracked ones, and a really swollen bruise on his leg along with a smattering of burns. They taped his ribs and gave him some burn cream and painkillers, and three hours after arriving at the hospital he was finally able to leave.
Peter powered his phone back up and was greeted with a notification that he had missed seven calls from Claire. He felt badly about it, he should have let someone know where he was. He checked his voicemail, and listened to her message.
“Peter, it’s Claire again. Are you okay? Look - Sylar showed up at the Company, but he’s uh… it’s over and we’re back at Angela’s. So… don’t go back to the Company… really don’t. Just come here. And call me. Please? Call me back.”
He considered flying back to his mother’s, but he could barely see straight and so hailed a cab. His head was spinning. After everything that happened tonight… now to know that Sylar had in fact gone after his mother. He should’ve been there, he should’ve… He shook his head, and tried to stop thinking. Claire hadn’t said that anybody was hurt, but she hadn’t said they were all alright either. He pressed his head against the window and tried to focus on the passing lights, tried not to think.
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When Peter finally arrived at his mother’s, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened it and walked into the dim foyer. He opened his mouth to ask if anyone was home but didn’t get out a syllable before he saw Claire rushing towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and he winced. “Watch the ribs, watch the ribs,” he mumbled.
“Oh, sorry,” she responded, stepping back. The light over his head came on and he saw Noah and his mother standing in the doorway to the sitting room.
“Peter, thank God,” Angela whispered, all but pushing Claire out of the way as she tentatively embraced him. “Are you alright?” she asked, cupping his face in her hands.
“Just a little bruised,” he replied.
“And Pinehearst?”
“Destroyed,” he said.
“And Nathan?” she pressed.
“He made it out,” Peter said, sticking with the simplest of explanations. I saved him, he thought. I saved him and he threw it back in my face. He was suddenly so very tired, so very exhausted. He flanked at his mother, at Claire’s concerned face, at Bennett, and sighed. They all got out all right, that was all that mattered. Everyone he cared for was alive.
“I’m tired,” Peter announced, pushing past Angela and heading for the stairs. He felt their gazes on him as he walked the route to his old bedroom, but he didn’t turn around.
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Hours later Peter woke to find sunlight streaming through the windows. He groaned, rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut. He heard the rumble of Bennett’s voice downstairs and wondered why he was still there.
Peter’s ribs were sore and he let out a muffled curse as realization suddenly dawned on him. He had been near Claire last night, but her power had not become his. His ability was broken. He remembered the moment he had grasped on to Nathan after taking the formula. A shock had pulsed through his hand as it touched his brother, electricity running through his veins and then he had flown.
He wondered if he could do the same with Claire, if he just had to touch her with the intent of healing and then he would be able to. But would he lose his ability to fly if he did that? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to try it if there was a chance that he could only have one power at a time. It was probably irrational and childish, but he didn’t want to lose the part of him that he had taken from Nathan.
----------------------------------
Peter came out of the bathroom, dressed and showered, to find Claire sitting on the end of his bed. She looked up as he entered, and Peter saw that her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying. He sat beside her, staring at the floor, and for a long time neither of them said anything.
“Meredith is dead,” Claire finally whispered. He turned to her, and saw that she looked surprised, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It took Peter longer than it should have to remember that Meredith was Claire’s biological mother, and at the same time his mind dug up an ancient conversation he had with Nathan about a blonde bombshell he met in Texas.
“Sylar?” he asked.
Claire nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“I killed him,” Claire said with vehemence. “I killed him.”
This surprised Peter and he put a hand on hers. “How?”
“Shard of glass through the back of his head - just like he did to you before. I didn’t… I didn’t even hesitate, just jammed it in.”
He tried to dissect her tone, tried to understand what she was feeling as she recounted that event. Was she sad, guilty, satisfied? He couldn’t tell. Peter didn’t even know how it made him feel. For a short time he thought Sylar was his brother, he had even gone to the future and met a man that was so very different, so very much better than Peter had ever imagined. But the Sylar in the future still thought they were related, while the night before his own Sylar had come to the realization that they were not. And so the only thing good he found in that future was now destroyed.
“Sylar told us that he was the one who killed Arthur,” Claire said. “What happened?”
“I couldn’t do it,” Peter said slowly. “I had my opportunity and I didn’t take it. He would have killed me if Sylar hadn’t shown up.”
Claire laughed then, cold and bitter. “He saved you? He saved you and then went to the Company to kill my Dad and Meredith and Angela, and me.”
“He said that I didn’t have anything he wanted,” Peter elaborated.
Claire said nothing at this and there was a moment of tense silence before she spoke. “What happened? After Arthur died… with the formula and… and Nathan?”
Peter licked his lip as he tried to figure out how to explain everything that went down at Pinehearst. The night had been a whirlwind. “Nathan was… he was running the operation. Some of his people - Flint and Knox - they helped me destroy the formula.” He laughed lightly at the next bit. “Flint said it was because the formula would mean he wasn’t ‘special’ anymore.”
“And then?” she pressed, moving closer to him.
“Nathan was angry… angry at me. But then Flint, he, he set the formula on fire and the whole room was about to go up, with Nathan right in the middle. So I… I grabbed the last of the formula and injected myself with it - to save him. I grabbed him and flew out the window before the whole place up.”
“So you… you have your abilities back?” Claire said and she sounded hopeful and relieved.
“Not exactly… there’s something wrong with it. I can only hold on to one ability at a time.”
“Oh. And Nathan… he didn’t come back with you so…”
“We’re not exactly… on the best of terms right now,” Peter said tersely. “I don’t know if we ever will be.”
Peter figured that Claire probably was not very surprised. However she did seem to sympathize with Peter, knowing well what that rift would mean to him. She leaned against him, holding onto his hand and rubbing it lightly with her thumb. Peter found himself relaxing into her touch and he closed his eyes.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried about you,” Claire whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. He let out a hiss of pain as she jostled his injured ribs. She pulled away abruptly. “You’re hurt? Can you… can you take my power to heal it?”
“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” Peter said softly, drawing her back against him. “And for now… if I can only do one thing… I just… I want to be able to fly.”
Peter couldn’t feel more relieved that she accepted this response, that she didn’t press him about it or say what he knew she was thinking. The unspoken “like Nathan” hung in the air unpleasantly. When all of this began he had been so excited at the prospect of flying, and he tried to make himself believe that was the reason he wanted to keep that ability now. Because if he didn’t then he would have to acknowledge that he only wanted it because it was Nathan’s, and Peter didn’t know when he could or would be near his brother again.