The Funeral- Chapter 2
The Funeral
Chapter 2
"Paris"
I woke up, with the sun blaring right down at me. For a few seconds I actually believed everything that had happened, had just been some horrible nightmare that my brain had produced, but when I looked around to see that I was on the roof of the Deveaux building, everything came back to me.
A knot formed in my throat, and tears followed. I couldn’t help it, I really couldn’t. I had been with her, and promised to stay, and now I was back to the vacant funeral place again. Not even Charles was here- I’d probably never see him again- I’d never see anyone….I’d never see Claire.
How could I let that be my end? What was I supposed to do now? Just wait around? And for how long? The fact of the matter was, that I’d prefer just not to exist at all than be stuck in my hellish limbo. It was agony having the knowledge that I’d never be content with my Claire, again.
It seemed like for hours, that I just laid there, in my own misery. I hated so many things at that moment- I hated existence itself for making things like this even possible.
Tears rolled down my eyes, and my throat ached. It became incredibly difficult to breathe, to the point where I wondered if I’d have some type of anxiety attack- but then I remembered I was sort of halfway dead. I couldn’t die again. I could only still feel pain, only- I realized- pain here (where it was) had intensified. The pounding in my head after so much crying, became so unbearable then, that I passed out again.
Later
My eyes opened to reveal a new scenery. It wasn’t new per say, but it wasn’t the roof of the Deveaux building either- it was Claire’s room again. My heart palpitated, and did summersaults at the joy it brought me to be back there.
What had I done to bring myself there? Obviously I had wished to be with Claire since I had woken up in the beginning- that was the only place I ever wanted to be. But why was it that I was there again? Now?
I yawned, and stretched, hearing bones crack in different areas of my body- when I had been alive, I’d never heard those types of noises- why now? Again, this whole ‘Funeral’ thing confused the hell out of me. But I shook all of that off, it wasn’t what was important- I just wanted to find Claire.
Then, she was there, sleeping next to me, with red swollen eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks. I could hear her sobs, her yearning, and her body trembling. My hand stretched out to comfort her, and to tell her I was there, like before- only I couldn’t touch her. The barrier that I’d had with Heidi, and Nathan was there with her as well.
She mumbled something incoherent and soft, that I couldn’t make out, but her pain was evident. She hugged her pillow to her face with great force, and screamed into it, like someone was physically abusing her. It angered me, more than I could possibly explain. I’d never meant for my death to bring her so much pain. To be honest- I hadn’t thought I’d affect her this much at all.
I just wanted to console her- tell her it was ok, that if things turned out for the best, then maybe at least we’d see each other later, and finally be together. If she could just-
My heart dropped.
There wouldn’t be a later on- there would be no us together ever again. Because my Claire would never die. Tears formed in my eyes, and I felt my chest getting heavy- too heavy. I couldn’t take the truth- we were honestly and forever more screwed.
Romeo and Juliet weren’t the true star-crossed lovers, because at least they had both died, and had gone to hell together. No, while I would forever be dead, Claire would stay alive.
I stretched my fingers again, knowing I would find that fuzzy barrier between us, unable to let me touch her. But for a brief second, a small glorious moment, my fingers grazed over her hand, hard enough so that she felt it, and her crying stopped.
She looked to where I was laying next to her, her eyes grew for a second, and she swallowed, “Peter?”
I nodded, and moved my hand to touch her face, finding that my fingers could make an airy connection to her. It was sheer- hardly anything, but it was everything too.
Her eyes filled with tears again, and her hand raised to her face, where my fingers had been , “ I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?”
“I’m here- I’m staying right here.” I let out confident that she could hear me. I would keep coming back, I would find a way to make this permanent- I knew I would.
Sobs erupted from her again, “Pe-ter. Please, please come back!”
I cried harder along with her- I didn’t care at all, I just wanted this to stop. I couldn’t take seeing her cry so much.
“I- I’m s-so sorry! I should have loved you more.” Her apology startled me. This wasn’t her fault at all, it was all my carelessness. I was the one who had brought Elle into my life- given her hope, I led her on. I should have known she would go completely crazy and pull something like attempting to kill Claire.
There was a knock at the door, but Claire didn’t acknowledge it. She simply stayed put, crying into her pillow. I turned to see who was at the door. It was Andy.
Strangely, I felt jealousy. After Claire had told me that he was gay, any resentment that I’d felt for him, had evaporated- because I had Claire anyway. But now he could be with her, as a friend, as someone to comfort her- what I wanted myself to be, and for that, I loathed him.
He was dressed in a black suit, as if he was going out to a fancy dinner, or…a funeral. Andy closed the door behind him, and sighed, walking over to Claire’s bed, and sat by her side.
It was so easy for him to simply run his fingers through her hair- comforting her. It wasn’t romantic at all, after all he was gay, but god I was so jealous.
“Claire”, he spoke softly, knowing how fragile she was, “You have to get ready, Claire. We have to leave for his funeral.”
She burst into sobs again, and tightened the grip on her pillow, “He lied to me, Andy. He promised he’d stay with me forever. He promised.”
I had.
Flashback
Peter lifted her chin, tears streaming down her face, "Why are you crying, Claire? It's just a movie."
Claire sniffed, letting a tiny sob out and, though she tried to steady her breathing, her voice still cracked, "It's just- th-the thought of that happening to you!"
Peter smiled and kissed her wet lips and cheeks, "Oh, baby, I'm never leaving you."
She sniffled against him- her heart still in turmoil over the thought of him permanently gone- forever. "Promise?"
He nodded and kissed her again, more passionately that time, "I promise never-ever to leave you, Claire. I'm going to spend eternity with you."
End flashback.
“The worst part- the thing that makes me angry the most- is…I didn’t tell anyone.” She paused to exhale a sob into her pillow and let a few more tears roll down her beautiful face.
It was true, she hadn’t, and neither had I. When I had been alive I’d been upset, because I’d wanted to confess our love to everyone. I wanted to tell my mom, Nathan- regardless of what the outcome would be. It was partially selfish, I knew that, so I never did it.
It didn’t make a difference now though, if people knew or not- because I was dead. Where Claire was breathing and feeling, I was cold, and unmoving, forevermore. I hated to think of what it would do to her, to see my body laying listlessly in a coffin. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stomach it myself.
Andy sat on the bed next to her, spooning her, with his arms wrapped around her. My nose flared, and it made me despise him even more at that moment, but I could see how it very subtly helped her, and for that I was thankful.
He kissed the side of her cheek, and sighed, “You loved him, Claire, and he you- you both knew that, so fuck the rest of the world.”
No. Suddenly, only because he said it, I disagreed, for I too believed the rest of the world should have known about our love, incestuous or not. It yearned to be acknowledged. Regardless of what Nathan, my mom, or Heidi would think, they needed to see, that it had always been her, my Claire.
I wanted my love for Claire to haunt Elle, I wanted our joy, and love rubbed in her face, I wanted her to have nightmares of it. I wanted her to curse the day, that she separated us.
The seething inside me, surprised me, my breath heightened, my eyes were still hot, and full of tears, but it wasn’t sadness anymore that I felt, no, it was more determination, than anything else. It stirred a wave of slight tingling through out me, and I knew what was coming next.
I was leaving again, or going to sleep, whatever it was that always happened. But I knew, with all that was within me, that it was ok. I wasn’t scared, because I’d see Claire again, I was sure of it.
…..
When I came to, I was back on the roof of the Deveaux building, it was what I’d come to realize, was my mother ship. It was my home, while I was here at ‘The Funeral’.
Every word of their conversation, rang clear in my head though, and one concise thought, came together for me. I felt like a puzzle in my head had clicked together, to reveal a masterpiece, with answers I had been searching for. It scared me to think of it, it frightened me, that it could be the end of my stay here, if I chose to do it. But if I didn’t, I would be haunted for the rest of my existence, with Claire, in constant pain.
And while, what I dreaded more than anything was to leave her, and never see her beautiful face again, her peace was the most important thing to me. If it took the world knowing about our love, then it’s what needed to happen, the world would know that I, Peter Petrelli had loved, Claire Bennet.
I knew how they would know as well, nothing was better than first hand proof. Pierre, the photographer in Paris, had that. He had first hand evidence, of just what Claire meant to me, of how much our love had inspired him to film us, without even knowing about it.
From what I had gathered after being in Claire’s bedroom earlier, was that it couldn’t have even been a week after my death, which meant it was still spring. And the pictures that had been taken in Paris, that I had done with Maya were meant for the fall campaign of this year. No pictures were scheduled be advertised until the end of June. I had time.
I thought about Pierre, over and over again- I had to visualize him, think of him, until it tired me, so that I could be there. I tried remembering what his accent had sounded like, what he had said to us, and any emotion that he had stirred in me that day.
Nothing came though, as much as I tried engraving his face into my memory, I couldn’t bring anything up. All I could see was the bridge where we had been foolishly embraced, in an intimate hug. I could only see where I had nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, and made her smile.
Her smile, I remember feeling like all the weight had been lifted off my shoulders with that sad smile. The way her lips arched up, and she’d scrunch her nose, made my heart melt, just thinking of it. I remember how I felt at that moment too. Guilt, shame, regret, all of that had filled me up then, I felt infinitely flawed for worrying her, for even being selfish enough, to pull her into my tainted world.
Thoughts of the Paris trip, and all that had happened that after noon, played over in my mind, in a scratchy black and white film, like a carousel. It spun, replaying all her expressions, all her movements, all that she did, all that I loved. It lulled me to sleep, and for once, since I had died, I fell asleep with a smile.
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Note: This wasn't beta'd, so forgive, my many grammatical errors!
xoxo
Ari