Heroes: What Dies Inside Us When We Live (Niki/Peter) R
Title: What Dies Inside Us When We Live
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: R
Word Count: ~500 words
Characters: Niki/Peter
Summary: early in the 'Five Years Gone' 'verse.
The guy at the bar is dark and brooding and angry, and looks like he's at least five rum and cokes in. She gets him another because he looks almost as broken as she feels.
D.L. just wants to help. Somehow, he manages to be the strong one, and she can't stand it.
Ten days after her son dies and there aren't enough pieces for a proper funeral, Niki takes off.
It should be Jessica. She needs Jessica. But there are no black-outs and no inexplicable shows of strength, and Jessica's gone, just when Niki needs her most.
The Statue of Liberty is still standing, and she sneaks in late at night. It's dark and huge and she keeps thinking it's going to fall in-it would be karmic if this world collapsed, too. It would be welcome, and that, she's sure, is why it doesn't happen. Why she can crawl around for hours in the darkness-one empty woman inside another.
All she can think about is that Micah never got to see it. He would have given her the complete history and assured her that the maintenance of the support structure would keep them safe. He'd always tried to take care of her.
She hadn't done so well by him.
The guy at the bar is dark and brooding and angry, and looks like he's at least five rum and cokes in. She gets him another because he looks almost as broken as she feels.
"New York," he mutters when she sits down. "What a town."
"What's left of it," she says.
His mouth twitches at the corner as his dark hair falls over one eye. He takes another drink. "Half the town it used to be."
She laughs, bitter and angry. "And, yet, here we are."
He pins her against the wall in the pitch black of a one star hotel and his teeth scrape against her jaw in something that feels like fury. She should have the strength to pull away when he pins her wrists to the wall, but she likes it like this. She's not good with choices.
This makes it easy.
She kicks off her skirt and leaves the heels on, and he lifts her easily. She tangles her fingers together at the nape of his neck and tips her head back and just feels.
For once, it's not grief.
They move from the wall to the bathroom counter to the floor and finally to the bed. It feels like hours-it's exhausting and good and painful and it makes her forget, for a few strung-together moments, how empty she is.
He breathes heavily beside her and she gets up to find her clothes. No need to make this something it isn't.
He catches her arm as she looks under the bed for her bra.
"What's your name?" he asks quietly.
She looks up at him. His eyes are dark and intense and full of pain. It's like looking in the mirror. She turns away.
"Jessica," she tells him evenly as her hand meets lace.
"Peter," he says. And then, "Stay."
She looks up, startled.
"Not forever. Just…tonight. Stay here."
There's lace between her fingers and then there isn't.
She puts her shirt on before she climbs back into bed.
"Just tonight," she tells him softly.
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: R
Word Count: ~500 words
Characters: Niki/Peter
Summary: early in the 'Five Years Gone' 'verse.
The guy at the bar is dark and brooding and angry, and looks like he's at least five rum and cokes in. She gets him another because he looks almost as broken as she feels.
D.L. just wants to help. Somehow, he manages to be the strong one, and she can't stand it.
Ten days after her son dies and there aren't enough pieces for a proper funeral, Niki takes off.
It should be Jessica. She needs Jessica. But there are no black-outs and no inexplicable shows of strength, and Jessica's gone, just when Niki needs her most.
The Statue of Liberty is still standing, and she sneaks in late at night. It's dark and huge and she keeps thinking it's going to fall in-it would be karmic if this world collapsed, too. It would be welcome, and that, she's sure, is why it doesn't happen. Why she can crawl around for hours in the darkness-one empty woman inside another.
All she can think about is that Micah never got to see it. He would have given her the complete history and assured her that the maintenance of the support structure would keep them safe. He'd always tried to take care of her.
She hadn't done so well by him.
The guy at the bar is dark and brooding and angry, and looks like he's at least five rum and cokes in. She gets him another because he looks almost as broken as she feels.
"New York," he mutters when she sits down. "What a town."
"What's left of it," she says.
His mouth twitches at the corner as his dark hair falls over one eye. He takes another drink. "Half the town it used to be."
She laughs, bitter and angry. "And, yet, here we are."
He pins her against the wall in the pitch black of a one star hotel and his teeth scrape against her jaw in something that feels like fury. She should have the strength to pull away when he pins her wrists to the wall, but she likes it like this. She's not good with choices.
This makes it easy.
She kicks off her skirt and leaves the heels on, and he lifts her easily. She tangles her fingers together at the nape of his neck and tips her head back and just feels.
For once, it's not grief.
They move from the wall to the bathroom counter to the floor and finally to the bed. It feels like hours-it's exhausting and good and painful and it makes her forget, for a few strung-together moments, how empty she is.
He breathes heavily beside her and she gets up to find her clothes. No need to make this something it isn't.
He catches her arm as she looks under the bed for her bra.
"What's your name?" he asks quietly.
She looks up at him. His eyes are dark and intense and full of pain. It's like looking in the mirror. She turns away.
"Jessica," she tells him evenly as her hand meets lace.
"Peter," he says. And then, "Stay."
She looks up, startled.
"Not forever. Just…tonight. Stay here."
There's lace between her fingers and then there isn't.
She puts her shirt on before she climbs back into bed.
"Just tonight," she tells him softly.