Heroes, "Caretakers" Peter, Claire, Sylar || rated PG
Fandom: Heroes
Title: Caretakers
Author: Paynesgrey
Rated: PG
Characters: Peter, Sylar, Claire, mention of Nathan
Genre: Angst/General
Word Count: 491
Warnings/Spoilers: Light violence. Post-season 4.
Notes: Written for the "Trouble" theme at heroes-contest.
Summary: Peter's life flashes before his eyes.
Pain dribbled out of him like a leaking faucet, dripping into the pool of his belly and then fading into rippling waves.
Lights flashed around him, and Peter found himself drawn into memory. His surroundings glowed beyond him in a blinding sunlight, and he heard Nathan’s voice at the right side of his ear. Peter heard himself sobbing as Nathan’s hand gripped his small arm.
“You’re alright, Pete. It was just a fall. You’ll heal,” Nathan said reassuring him, and his voice was affectionate yet stern.
Peter’s heart ached as the memory faded. They’d gotten in trouble with their father that day, and Peter had fled so fast from the scene that he’d taken a terrible trip over a stump he’d tried to jump. Nathan followed him out, shouting his name and warning him of the obstruction in his path.
His father didn’t need to follow them, or punish them. His presence had done well enough to subdue them both.
Nathan had soothed his brother in times like these, like he always had. And now... Peter gripped onto the memory as it started to descend from his mind, sliding from his fingers. He saw a flash; his brother was falling to the ground below, his face changing shape. He was losing him - had lost him, and Nathan was no longer here to pick him up when he fell.
But...somehow, Peter didn’t feel all that alone. Not really. Not with the painful memory of his brother’s death still hovering around in his heart.
His gut retched, and Peter jumped awake, sitting up and doubling over in his own lap. He felt a strain on his throat as he gasped for breath. His hands were gripped into other hands, and he gathered himself, looking around curiously.
“Peter! You’re alright.” It was Claire’s voice. He turned to his right, and he met her wide, relieved eyes. She smiled at him, and he itched to wipe away the tears on her cheek.
His other hand was held fiercely in another grip, and he turned to his left, shocked to see Sylar grinning over him, just as relieved as his niece. His voice was almost delicate, absent of the malice or arrogance that still continued to astound Peter. He nodded to Sylar, still recovering as they both reluctantly loosened their hold - but would not let him go.
Pulled to his feet, Peter examined the phantom wound in his stomach. He remembered going after a thug, and he remembered getting shot.
“That was stupid,” Claire told him, but her tone carried more worry than admonishment.
“Thankfully, we healed you in time,” Sylar said, and Peter knew he could never begin to thank them. They never expected him to anyway, and they knew he’d probably leap into trouble again.
And he had no doubt that they’d be right there beside him, ready to catch him when he fell, just as his brother had always done before them.
END
Title: Caretakers
Author: Paynesgrey
Rated: PG
Characters: Peter, Sylar, Claire, mention of Nathan
Genre: Angst/General
Word Count: 491
Warnings/Spoilers: Light violence. Post-season 4.
Notes: Written for the "Trouble" theme at heroes-contest.
Summary: Peter's life flashes before his eyes.
Pain dribbled out of him like a leaking faucet, dripping into the pool of his belly and then fading into rippling waves.
Lights flashed around him, and Peter found himself drawn into memory. His surroundings glowed beyond him in a blinding sunlight, and he heard Nathan’s voice at the right side of his ear. Peter heard himself sobbing as Nathan’s hand gripped his small arm.
“You’re alright, Pete. It was just a fall. You’ll heal,” Nathan said reassuring him, and his voice was affectionate yet stern.
Peter’s heart ached as the memory faded. They’d gotten in trouble with their father that day, and Peter had fled so fast from the scene that he’d taken a terrible trip over a stump he’d tried to jump. Nathan followed him out, shouting his name and warning him of the obstruction in his path.
His father didn’t need to follow them, or punish them. His presence had done well enough to subdue them both.
Nathan had soothed his brother in times like these, like he always had. And now... Peter gripped onto the memory as it started to descend from his mind, sliding from his fingers. He saw a flash; his brother was falling to the ground below, his face changing shape. He was losing him - had lost him, and Nathan was no longer here to pick him up when he fell.
But...somehow, Peter didn’t feel all that alone. Not really. Not with the painful memory of his brother’s death still hovering around in his heart.
His gut retched, and Peter jumped awake, sitting up and doubling over in his own lap. He felt a strain on his throat as he gasped for breath. His hands were gripped into other hands, and he gathered himself, looking around curiously.
“Peter! You’re alright.” It was Claire’s voice. He turned to his right, and he met her wide, relieved eyes. She smiled at him, and he itched to wipe away the tears on her cheek.
His other hand was held fiercely in another grip, and he turned to his left, shocked to see Sylar grinning over him, just as relieved as his niece. His voice was almost delicate, absent of the malice or arrogance that still continued to astound Peter. He nodded to Sylar, still recovering as they both reluctantly loosened their hold - but would not let him go.
Pulled to his feet, Peter examined the phantom wound in his stomach. He remembered going after a thug, and he remembered getting shot.
“That was stupid,” Claire told him, but her tone carried more worry than admonishment.
“Thankfully, we healed you in time,” Sylar said, and Peter knew he could never begin to thank them. They never expected him to anyway, and they knew he’d probably leap into trouble again.
And he had no doubt that they’d be right there beside him, ready to catch him when he fell, just as his brother had always done before them.
END