(Untitled)

[be_normal]

The last thing Gwen remembers with any clarity is Peter's face. After that, it was all a blur and the dull knowledge that she was about to hit a wall head-first. She'd braced for it, she knows that much, but everything went black after that

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[saves_the_world]

The shards of glass were headed right for him. Peter could see that and he was absolutely panicked. Because he panicked, Peter couldn't focus. Faces whirled in his mind -- Claire. Claude. Hiro. Sylar. Isaac Mendez -- but he couldn't get a lock. The shards began to move and--

Peter sat up with a start, a burning pain in his chest. Then he twisted, looking wildly from one side to the next.

"Gwen?" he practically yelled, his voice hoarse from disuse.

[be_normal]

"Peter?!" cries Gwen, sitting immediately up so that she can see over the edge of the mattress, green eyes wide behind the tousled mess of her hair. There he is, sitting in the middle of their bed, looking like he's about to stroke out but otherwise completely normal.

Their bed. On the island.

"...was that a dream?" she asks, because if it was, it was the most vivid dream she's had in her entire lifetime.

[saves_the_world]

"What the hell--" Peter muttered to himself, crawling to the edge of the mattress. Staring down at Gwen, the tightening in his chest released -- a little.

His heart still was beating rapidly, what seemed to be the last few minutes replaying through his mind. Sylar. In his apartment. Peter didn't know if he would have lived or died had he not... Done what? Come back? Woken up?

Patting at his hair, which pretty much looked like a rat's nest, he shook his head at Gwen.

"I don't know."

[be_normal]

"Peter, were we just in New York?" Gwen asks, increasingly unsettled by the thought that she might have imagined it all up. Watching him with wide, uncertain eyes, she pushes herself from the floor and sits beside him on the bed. They're both still naked, but she doesn't seem terribly concerned about that just now.

[saves_the_world]

"It seemed like we were," he allowed slowly. His eyes followed her lithe figure as she moved to sit beside him on the bed. Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Peter pulled his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he leaned forward slightly and looked at her with eyes just as uncertain as hers.

"What do you remember?"