"Run" - One-Shot Challenge #5 'Unhappy Endings'
Fandom: Heroes
Title: Run
Characters/Pairings: Angela, mentions of Matt, Daphne, Hiro, Ando and Nathan. Peter/Claire if you want it to be there ;)
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: All of S3. UP TO THE END OF VOLUME 3 + THE PROMO FOR VOLUME FOUR. Speculation for 'Fugatives'.
Disclaimer: Don't own it!
Summary: He just needs to give Claire enough time to run.
A/N: Written for pairechallenge even though I'm unsure how much this acutally fits the prompt. I was inspired by the promo for the new volume, which is immense. Lyrics under the cut belong to Snow Petrol. Enjoy! =)
~And I can barely look at you,
But every single time I do,
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here.~
As the SWAT vans swerve up the drive of the Petrelli mansion, Peter Petrelli swears he’s seen all this before. Corrupt politicians, villains on the loose, people with powers rounded up like cattle; it is exactly like his dreams.
Except, this dream is real. There is no waking up, no future-self to help him, not even a spirit walk like the one Matt had could help him change the past now.
“Peter?”
Claire’s looking out of the French windows with eyes as wide as baubles, and he knows she’s trying to act tough, but deep down; she’s as scared as he is.
He tries to remain as calm as possible, knowing the next thirty seconds will probably be the key in saving her life.
“It’s gonna be ok,” He reassures her, keeping his voice low, “Just follow Ma into Dad’s study - there’s a panel under his desk -”
“But what about - ?” She begins to reply, but is cut off as something smashes through a window in one of upstairs rooms.
“Don’t worry about me,” Peter has just enough time to look into her eyes and smile gently, marvelling how much the girl in front of him has turned into a young woman, strong and independent, a far cry from the scared girl painted onto a canvas in Isaac Mendez’s apartment.
Time has changed, the bad guys have changed, but Peter’s goal remains the same: ‘Save the cheerleader, save the world.’
“Peter…” Claire’s voice is soft but still has enough force in it to keep his gaze on her, “Please, promise. Promise -”
There’s tears brimming in her eyes, confessions threatening to spill from her mouth, but there’s no time. He nods in answer to her silent question, and the smile she emits is a small one, but enough to fill him with the hope that what he’s about to do is the right thing.
Then his mother’s dragging her by the arm, glancing at him in solemn approval. The crashes and shouts get louder and, suddenly, the SWAT team are surrounding him, and Claire’s shouts and struggles, her horror-stricken face as she realises what he’s doing are blocked out as he focuses on the task at hand.
He never expects to make it out of the house, that isn’t part of the plan. He just needs to give Claire enough time to run.
---
For the next couple of days, Claire is a ghost around the hideout. Angela had taken them to an abandoned apartment in the Bronx, where they’d met up with Matt and Hiro. When it became clear that Peter had not and would not be meeting them there, something changed in the girl.
She’s not said a word for the past three days and as Angela studies her granddaughter, she pities her. Every arrival, every flurry of speed that is Daphne leaving or arriving with a new piece of information makes the blonde sit up a little straighter, her eyes a little brighter, only to be disappointed once again when it’s not the hero she seeks.
In the night, Claire sits by the window, watching the New York skyline for a wishing star that will bring Peter back to her. Matt finds her with her head resting on the window frame one morning, tiny hands curled against the glass.
---
Weeks pass, locations change, and Claire’s blank look rarely leaves her eyes. Daphne and Matt leave for a time, trying to locate the last splinter cell of Primatech that might be able to assist them. Ando and Hiro leave too, travelling back to that dingy, old bar Adman Monroe once took them to, to see what they can find out about the newest government protocol.
Angela raps her French-manicured nails against the wood of the table as Claire lies on her makeshift bed on the wooden floor, chest heaving in and out slowly. The silence engulfs them both; Angela contemplates which son was more painful to lose, the one who sacrificed himself for power, or love.
---
Five months later, they’re in New Haven and Claire bolts from where she’d been walking along the street with Hiro and Ando, straight into the arms of Peter Petrelli.
She’s clutching at his coat, tears streaming down her face, he’s holding onto her like she’s the only thing keeping him alive, eyes tight shut and bangs falling down in front of his eyes.
From a distance, they look like two lovers reunited.
From a distance, Angela purses her lips but resigns herself to fate.
From a distance, the blacked-out limo trails their movements slowly as they walk down the street, hands linked together.
Nathan Petrelli’s found his targets.