"Atonement" - Chapter 1
Heya!!!
Silly me O.O
I completely forgot to upload Version 2.0 of this chapter.
My wonderful beta penelope_tweed already sent the beta-ed version in december, so I'm very sorry!
So now here it is. Enjoy!
Title: Atonement- Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Ships: Peter and Claire
Summary: It had been years since Peter had last felt any pain, but right at that moment, knowing that his next words would be the end for everything he held dear, he had felt like his chest had been cracked open and left to bleed.
Notes: Minor spoilers for s3, differs after "It's coming"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even the pairing. It's canon, Kring just doesn't see...
Prologue, Chapter 1
Chapter 1:
Whenever your world starts crushing down
That's when you'll find me
(One Republic - All fall down)
Present day
Claire watched intently as Peter's blood mingled with the cold water in the tub, dripping from the stained towel she rubbed between her small hands.
In the other room she could hear Peter tossing and turning on his bed. He had been trying to sleep for hours, but his whole body was screaming with pain. Whenever his aching bones allowed him to fall into a light slumber, he would be haunted by nightmares of his father and wake with a startled cry.
Just after Nathan and Tracy had left, Peter had started to shake so violently that Claire had worried he would pass out then and there. The last time she had been in his room to check on him, his skin had been deathly pale and burning with fever. It had reminded her of the way he had looked the day after Homecoming when she had visited him at the county jail. She wondered if this was his body was struggling to cope with the sudden loss of his abilities.
Claire let the towel drop into the tub and sank to the floor with an exhausted sigh. It seemed like forever since she had slept. The constant fear and worries had kept her an avid insomniac, but now the stress and exhaustion of the past few days were finally closing in on her. Her lips stretched into a weak smile, thinking in a perversely proud way that she wasn't that indestructible after all. It was possible that she would never die, permanently, but she still needed to rest. She found a bizarre comfort in the realisation that she could at least try and spend half of eternity sleeping.
And though her life had constantly been on the edge of falling apart since the day Jackie had accidentally pushed her through the glass of her cupboard, it had been the few days since Sylar had come to claim her ability that had been the hardest for her.
She had felt like she was sitting in a roller-coaster that was heading full speed toward a dead-end, that she was crying out for someone to help her and no one was there to hear her desperate screams.
Even her father and Peter, the only two men on this planet that she trusted unconditionally, had let her down. Elle, of all people, had been her first spark of hope in this darkness. And although their trip to New York hadn't provided her with the answers she came for, she found that now she was exactly where she wanted to be. With a light chuckle she remembered how the former company agent told her it was good to know that she was just as “messed up” as she was.
Just a few feet away she could hear Peter moan in his sleep. She leaned her head back against the bathtub and closed her eyes.
Elle had no idea how messed up she really was...
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
November 8th 2006
“When I met you I finally felt like I was...”
Claire struggled for words. That night in Odessa, when Peter had come to her rescue, she had felt like a heroine in a comic book-- like she was Lois Lane and he was her Superman. And when he had told her that he needed her to save the world, she had felt special in a way she had never known before.
Suddenly different meant more to her than just freak show; it had become a link between her and her hero, and that had been the only thing to comfort her while the world she had known rapidly crashed down around her ears. But she couldn't tell him that. Not after everything that had happened those past days. Not now that they both knew the truth.
“... part of something.”
She wanted to smile for him, but she couldn't fight the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She tried in vain to read his face, a face that in all its pale perfection looked like it had been carved into white marble. But when he reached out to gently wipe away her tears, his lips curled into the slightest of smiles.
“It's funny.” he said. “I thought the same thing when I met you...”
Her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments when his fingers brushed over her wet cheek and she leaned a little into the warmth of his touch.
'I wish he wasn't your brother...'
Peter’s hand was gone from her skin in an instant. The sudden silence between them was swiftly descending into awkward territory and the bewildered look on his face made her heart skip a beat. He looked like...
Her hands clenched in her lap without her even noticing it. He looked exactly like Matt Parkman had when he'd heard things he didn't want to hear.
'Did you just...?'
There was no answer, of course, just that awkward silence. The way he looked down at her. The way his eyes darkened the tiniest bit as he let his hand drop back to his side. She couldn't take it any longer and turned her face away.
She desperately tried to focus on something else-- anything to stop her from blushing like the schoolgirl she really was; anything to stop her thoughts from whirling around that pathetic hero-complex she had fixed on Peter. Her uncle. It was a laugh, really.
Lois Lane had Superman, Mary Jane had Peter Parker… and what did she have? She had everything she had so childishly and innocently fantasised about since the moment Peter had grabbed her hand, destroyed and turned into something foul by secrets, lies and a bit of shared DNA...
She still felt his stare on her and for a split second she wished for nothing more than to know what was going through his head at that very moment. Was he as embarrassed as she was? She felt her heart clench almost painfully in her chest. Was he disgusted?
But then three familiar forms made their way toward them, crossing the wide walk in front of the Kirby Plaza.
All thoughts of Peter, of the explosion, and those past couple days in New York were wiped from her mind when she leapt to her feet and rushed into the arms of Noah Bennet. “Dad!”
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Present day
“Claire...?”
Her eyes blinked open at the weary sound of Peter's voice from the other room. It took several dazed seconds before she realised that she had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. She fumbled across the tile, using the toilet as a brace to get to her feet and grabbed a moist washcloth that was hanging over the rim of the sink.
In the bedroom, Peter was sitting upright in a mess of tangled, sweaty sheets. He stared at her with wide eyes, his hair damp with sweat. The anxious look on his face nearly broke her heart. “I thought you were gone...” His voice was hoarse from sleep and shaking slightly.
“I was just in the other room.” Claire said with a soft smile as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She gently pushed him back into the pillows and used the wash cloth to wipe the sweat from his face. “I'm not going anywhere until we find a way to get your powers back.” She put a hand to his forehead; while his skin still felt hot under her fingers, it felt not as bad as it had before. She handed him a glass of water that she had left on the night stand earlier and watched as he drank greedily. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” Peter replied with a weak smile. When she reached out to take the empty glass from him, he took her hand into his and squeezed it lightly. “You were amazing today. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Claire felt a rush of heat surge through her body and that all too familiar delicate blush creep up her cheeks. She took the glass, stood up and tugged him back underneath the blankets like her mother had used to do when she and her brother had been younger. “I'll be in the living room. If you need anything, just call.”
Peter nodded weakly, his eyelids already drooping shut as he did so. She brushed some more damp strands of hair from his forehead with a warm smile and then left the room. With a last look at his sleeping form on the bed, she silently closed the door. She stopped dead in her movement with her fingers still around the door handle when an odd sensation in the back of her head told her that she wasn't alone.
She hesitantly turned around to face the intruder-- and found him leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, cautiously watching her with dark eyes. The empty glass slipped from her hand and landed on the thick carpet with a dull thud. It couldn't be... “Peter?”
Her eyes widened in shock as she spun around on her heel, following the impulse to storm back into the bedroom and ensure herself that this was impossible; that Peter was still laying where she had left him just moments ago.
“Please, Claire...” His voice was merely above a whisper, but the desperation it held was enough to make her stop and look at him; her trembling hand slowly letting go of the handle.
“I need you to listen...”
Silly me O.O
I completely forgot to upload Version 2.0 of this chapter.
My wonderful beta penelope_tweed already sent the beta-ed version in december, so I'm very sorry!
So now here it is. Enjoy!
Title: Atonement- Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Ships: Peter and Claire
Summary: It had been years since Peter had last felt any pain, but right at that moment, knowing that his next words would be the end for everything he held dear, he had felt like his chest had been cracked open and left to bleed.
Notes: Minor spoilers for s3, differs after "It's coming"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even the pairing. It's canon, Kring just doesn't see...
Prologue, Chapter 1
Chapter 1:
Whenever your world starts crushing down
That's when you'll find me
(One Republic - All fall down)
Present day
Claire watched intently as Peter's blood mingled with the cold water in the tub, dripping from the stained towel she rubbed between her small hands.
In the other room she could hear Peter tossing and turning on his bed. He had been trying to sleep for hours, but his whole body was screaming with pain. Whenever his aching bones allowed him to fall into a light slumber, he would be haunted by nightmares of his father and wake with a startled cry.
Just after Nathan and Tracy had left, Peter had started to shake so violently that Claire had worried he would pass out then and there. The last time she had been in his room to check on him, his skin had been deathly pale and burning with fever. It had reminded her of the way he had looked the day after Homecoming when she had visited him at the county jail. She wondered if this was his body was struggling to cope with the sudden loss of his abilities.
Claire let the towel drop into the tub and sank to the floor with an exhausted sigh. It seemed like forever since she had slept. The constant fear and worries had kept her an avid insomniac, but now the stress and exhaustion of the past few days were finally closing in on her. Her lips stretched into a weak smile, thinking in a perversely proud way that she wasn't that indestructible after all. It was possible that she would never die, permanently, but she still needed to rest. She found a bizarre comfort in the realisation that she could at least try and spend half of eternity sleeping.
And though her life had constantly been on the edge of falling apart since the day Jackie had accidentally pushed her through the glass of her cupboard, it had been the few days since Sylar had come to claim her ability that had been the hardest for her.
She had felt like she was sitting in a roller-coaster that was heading full speed toward a dead-end, that she was crying out for someone to help her and no one was there to hear her desperate screams.
Even her father and Peter, the only two men on this planet that she trusted unconditionally, had let her down. Elle, of all people, had been her first spark of hope in this darkness. And although their trip to New York hadn't provided her with the answers she came for, she found that now she was exactly where she wanted to be. With a light chuckle she remembered how the former company agent told her it was good to know that she was just as “messed up” as she was.
Just a few feet away she could hear Peter moan in his sleep. She leaned her head back against the bathtub and closed her eyes.
Elle had no idea how messed up she really was...
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
November 8th 2006
“When I met you I finally felt like I was...”
Claire struggled for words. That night in Odessa, when Peter had come to her rescue, she had felt like a heroine in a comic book-- like she was Lois Lane and he was her Superman. And when he had told her that he needed her to save the world, she had felt special in a way she had never known before.
Suddenly different meant more to her than just freak show; it had become a link between her and her hero, and that had been the only thing to comfort her while the world she had known rapidly crashed down around her ears. But she couldn't tell him that. Not after everything that had happened those past days. Not now that they both knew the truth.
“... part of something.”
She wanted to smile for him, but she couldn't fight the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She tried in vain to read his face, a face that in all its pale perfection looked like it had been carved into white marble. But when he reached out to gently wipe away her tears, his lips curled into the slightest of smiles.
“It's funny.” he said. “I thought the same thing when I met you...”
Her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments when his fingers brushed over her wet cheek and she leaned a little into the warmth of his touch.
'I wish he wasn't your brother...'
Peter’s hand was gone from her skin in an instant. The sudden silence between them was swiftly descending into awkward territory and the bewildered look on his face made her heart skip a beat. He looked like...
Her hands clenched in her lap without her even noticing it. He looked exactly like Matt Parkman had when he'd heard things he didn't want to hear.
'Did you just...?'
There was no answer, of course, just that awkward silence. The way he looked down at her. The way his eyes darkened the tiniest bit as he let his hand drop back to his side. She couldn't take it any longer and turned her face away.
She desperately tried to focus on something else-- anything to stop her from blushing like the schoolgirl she really was; anything to stop her thoughts from whirling around that pathetic hero-complex she had fixed on Peter. Her uncle. It was a laugh, really.
Lois Lane had Superman, Mary Jane had Peter Parker… and what did she have? She had everything she had so childishly and innocently fantasised about since the moment Peter had grabbed her hand, destroyed and turned into something foul by secrets, lies and a bit of shared DNA...
She still felt his stare on her and for a split second she wished for nothing more than to know what was going through his head at that very moment. Was he as embarrassed as she was? She felt her heart clench almost painfully in her chest. Was he disgusted?
But then three familiar forms made their way toward them, crossing the wide walk in front of the Kirby Plaza.
All thoughts of Peter, of the explosion, and those past couple days in New York were wiped from her mind when she leapt to her feet and rushed into the arms of Noah Bennet. “Dad!”
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Present day
“Claire...?”
Her eyes blinked open at the weary sound of Peter's voice from the other room. It took several dazed seconds before she realised that she had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. She fumbled across the tile, using the toilet as a brace to get to her feet and grabbed a moist washcloth that was hanging over the rim of the sink.
In the bedroom, Peter was sitting upright in a mess of tangled, sweaty sheets. He stared at her with wide eyes, his hair damp with sweat. The anxious look on his face nearly broke her heart. “I thought you were gone...” His voice was hoarse from sleep and shaking slightly.
“I was just in the other room.” Claire said with a soft smile as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She gently pushed him back into the pillows and used the wash cloth to wipe the sweat from his face. “I'm not going anywhere until we find a way to get your powers back.” She put a hand to his forehead; while his skin still felt hot under her fingers, it felt not as bad as it had before. She handed him a glass of water that she had left on the night stand earlier and watched as he drank greedily. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” Peter replied with a weak smile. When she reached out to take the empty glass from him, he took her hand into his and squeezed it lightly. “You were amazing today. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Claire felt a rush of heat surge through her body and that all too familiar delicate blush creep up her cheeks. She took the glass, stood up and tugged him back underneath the blankets like her mother had used to do when she and her brother had been younger. “I'll be in the living room. If you need anything, just call.”
Peter nodded weakly, his eyelids already drooping shut as he did so. She brushed some more damp strands of hair from his forehead with a warm smile and then left the room. With a last look at his sleeping form on the bed, she silently closed the door. She stopped dead in her movement with her fingers still around the door handle when an odd sensation in the back of her head told her that she wasn't alone.
She hesitantly turned around to face the intruder-- and found him leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, cautiously watching her with dark eyes. The empty glass slipped from her hand and landed on the thick carpet with a dull thud. It couldn't be... “Peter?”
Her eyes widened in shock as she spun around on her heel, following the impulse to storm back into the bedroom and ensure herself that this was impossible; that Peter was still laying where she had left him just moments ago.
“Please, Claire...” His voice was merely above a whisper, but the desperation it held was enough to make her stop and look at him; her trembling hand slowly letting go of the handle.
“I need you to listen...”