long after they attended
try to remember, there was a choice. the thing is, there’s trouble to rewrite history; she was never supposed to make it this far. heroes. claire. sylar. claire/sylar. five years gone. 1171 words, pg.
for pastrypack. because i promised.

( & )

keep the air burning
claire/peter. how to stop an exploding man. 1530 words. pg13.

“We’re done talkin’ about it,” she tells Daddy, on a Sunday no less, over apples and Mom’s brownies, “Really. We’re done.”
( ... )

c’est la vie - remember highway lines and stop signs
for labellacaracol. peter/claire. five years gone. alternative verse. 1419 words. r.

There are boys, sullen boys, boys with wide smiles and teeth; but this is for Claire, about Claire, and reconstructing the pieces begin between diners instead of school days, cobbler instead of books.
( ... )

closing polls at nine
heidi petrelli (angela); pg
spoilers for how to stop an exploding man
this is a few days early; written for apocalyptothon as per suaine’s request. i really hope that you enjoy it. thank you to chezsimon for the beta and now, i promise vacation hiatus.

Her first day alive again, Heidi’s knees crack.

( ... )

you will always remember the spoils
claire; peter/claire (zach/claire)- pg-13
1530 words
how to stop an exploding man spoilers

“She didn’t mean it,” her brother murmurs, worried. They’re always worried she’s going to leave.

( there's a point, she knows, where they're going to have to talk about this. )

and so this gets sacrificed
claire; peter/claire- pg
1274 words
the hard part spoilers

( where'd you put your keys, girl? )

mocking birds
claire; peter/claire- pg-13
1419 words
five years gone spoilers; playing with the alternative universe
for zauberer_sirin. ilu.

Daddy’s a pretty liar, Mom coughs.

( the sound of his voice is bare and distant, but she can't forget )

the streets of paris are littered with her ends
claire; peter/claire- pg-13
1148 words
how to stop an exploding man spoilers
for cathiexx. ilu.

“I hope he burned,” she says quietly, curling into the crook of Dad’s arm.

( we all secretly hate singing. )