(no subject)
Date: January/February 2006 - some other day, read to find out.
Character: Peter Petrelli
Summary: Sometimes, it's just not your day.
Status: Complete, one shot.
Private cause I said so.
Peter didn't like to think of himself as a paranoid kind of person. He was actually more on the oblivious side of things, depending on who you asked--this list included but was not limited to Nathan, his mother, his late father, and anyone who'd known him for more then five minutes--and that pretty much meant that a car crash would happen on the street he was on and if he wasn't looking directly at it and had his headphones on, he was likely to just keep walking.
But he wasn't that oblivious tonight and there was definitely someone following him.
He stopped walking, and looked over his shoulder for a few seconds before tipping his head back, inspecting the sky above him. People had been known to hang out on fire escapes. Or they had in his days as an undergrad at Columbia and his friends thought it was funny to throw water balloons at people that way. Which it was.. when you weren't on the receiving end of it.
There wasn't anyone on the fire escape. Or behind him. There was an older couple in front of him and a kid with a fancy phone that looked like it cost more then Peter made in a week sitting at one of those outdoor cafes, despite it being the middle of winter, but none of them seemed all that threatening.
And that was when it happened.
Exactly what it was was hard to describe. Like an explosion but not what he'd ever expected an explosion to feel like. Listening to Nathan's stories about being in the Navy had given his overactive imagination a pretty good idea and while he had no idea exactly what the fuck was happening, it probably couldn't be defined as an explosion.
Or it hadn't been before. Exactly what the hell was going on now he had no idea but instinct told him to duck at the loud sound and he did, dropping to the ground, reflexively holding his hands over his ears. His eyes opened a few moments later, and then just stared at the sight in front of him. Nothing that remarkable. Just a bush. But it was a tropical bush and he'd just been in New York. It was winter in New York. And New York, as a general rule, didn't have bushes.
Confused and sporting a healing scratch on his cheek, Peter stood, looked around, and immediately assumed he was dreaming. Two reasons; he wasn't in New York anymore. And he was standing not ten away from his father. His as of four weeks ago dead father, who in addition to being alive looked almost thirty years younger then Peter remembered him.
What the fuck...?
Peter took one hesitant step towards his father--and was that Linderman standing next to him?--and then everything went to hell again. He didn't go anywhere this time. Just the world around him did, gone in one sweeping arm of fire, running in a straight line down the middle of the village--how the fuck was he in a village in another country with his father?--and spreading outwards, catching people in its snarling, orange red grasp and swallowing them and their screams whole.
There was a moment of shock and realization and complete understanding as to what was happening to him... and then everything burned and hurt and he couldn't tell which way was up or down or why he was there or why this had to happen to him or what would happen to Nathan and Claire and his mother and his friends now or why that damn scream wouldn't just leave his throat.
And then he was just another victim of the Au Co massacre.
Character: Peter Petrelli
Summary: Sometimes, it's just not your day.
Status: Complete, one shot.
Private cause I said so.
Peter didn't like to think of himself as a paranoid kind of person. He was actually more on the oblivious side of things, depending on who you asked--this list included but was not limited to Nathan, his mother, his late father, and anyone who'd known him for more then five minutes--and that pretty much meant that a car crash would happen on the street he was on and if he wasn't looking directly at it and had his headphones on, he was likely to just keep walking.
But he wasn't that oblivious tonight and there was definitely someone following him.
He stopped walking, and looked over his shoulder for a few seconds before tipping his head back, inspecting the sky above him. People had been known to hang out on fire escapes. Or they had in his days as an undergrad at Columbia and his friends thought it was funny to throw water balloons at people that way. Which it was.. when you weren't on the receiving end of it.
There wasn't anyone on the fire escape. Or behind him. There was an older couple in front of him and a kid with a fancy phone that looked like it cost more then Peter made in a week sitting at one of those outdoor cafes, despite it being the middle of winter, but none of them seemed all that threatening.
And that was when it happened.
Exactly what it was was hard to describe. Like an explosion but not what he'd ever expected an explosion to feel like. Listening to Nathan's stories about being in the Navy had given his overactive imagination a pretty good idea and while he had no idea exactly what the fuck was happening, it probably couldn't be defined as an explosion.
Or it hadn't been before. Exactly what the hell was going on now he had no idea but instinct told him to duck at the loud sound and he did, dropping to the ground, reflexively holding his hands over his ears. His eyes opened a few moments later, and then just stared at the sight in front of him. Nothing that remarkable. Just a bush. But it was a tropical bush and he'd just been in New York. It was winter in New York. And New York, as a general rule, didn't have bushes.
Confused and sporting a healing scratch on his cheek, Peter stood, looked around, and immediately assumed he was dreaming. Two reasons; he wasn't in New York anymore. And he was standing not ten away from his father. His as of four weeks ago dead father, who in addition to being alive looked almost thirty years younger then Peter remembered him.
What the fuck...?
Peter took one hesitant step towards his father--and was that Linderman standing next to him?--and then everything went to hell again. He didn't go anywhere this time. Just the world around him did, gone in one sweeping arm of fire, running in a straight line down the middle of the village--how the fuck was he in a village in another country with his father?--and spreading outwards, catching people in its snarling, orange red grasp and swallowing them and their screams whole.
There was a moment of shock and realization and complete understanding as to what was happening to him... and then everything burned and hurt and he couldn't tell which way was up or down or why he was there or why this had to happen to him or what would happen to Nathan and Claire and his mother and his friends now or why that damn scream wouldn't just leave his throat.
And then he was just another victim of the Au Co massacre.