Title: The Dust of Ages
Author:
missalicebluePairing: Peter/Claire. Written for
eowyn_girl.
Rating: R for themes, language, some adult situations. But mostly themes.
Status: 10/15. I’ve written the whole thing already, and will try to update daily.
Summary: Peter and Claire were both caught up in this crazy, never-ending circle a long time ago. The real question was, if they could change how things turned out, would they?
Previous chapters here. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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The hallway of her high school was exactly the last place she expected to meet him, the Right Now Him, but there he was. His hair was long, just like he said it would be. But it wasn’t hippie long, it was emo long. She almost didn't recognize him with it hanging in his face.
It made him look younger. He looked younger than Future Him looked, but not a lot.
Her face flushed and her heart was beating out of her chest practically, but she gulped a couple deep breaths and ordered herself to calm down.
She stood just up from him in the hallway, close enough for him to notice her. She tossed her hair in the obvious way that boys usually notice. She watched him look around the hallway, and stare at the trophy case.
Too impatient to wait for him, she decided to walk very slowly past him. No way he could miss her then.
And when he began to turn away, she got scared and desperate and purposefully bumped into him before she could think about the butterfly.
It was a dumb trick, and it wouldn’t have fooled a woman for a second. The hallway was huge, and empty, and it was all so obviously a ploy that she couldn’t believe he fell for it.
But he did. She asked him if he was a reporter in order to keep him talking, because she desperately, desperately hoped he would say his name.
But he didn't offer it, and Claire was too busy concentrating on not looking like she had a secret to be savvy enough to steer the conversation there.
Damn, but it was hard. Way harder than she thought it would be, to keep that knowing grin off her face. She sort of half way succeeded, hopefully.
It was an equal mixture of hilarious and infuriating to hear him praise dumb Jackie. And then she was turning her back on him, which is what Normal Claire would have done, and she’d promised to be Normal Claire.
She never doubted, not for a second, that they’d be meeting again. Soon.
-----
She never would have left him when he screamed at her to go find lights and people, never would have left his side.
But he told her to trust him, and she does, so she went.
When she saw him shift his legs back into his body, pop the bones back into his sockets, she remembered the Swiss Army knife. She pretended that she was back in her room, seeing it all for the first time.
The feeling of wonder and relief at finding someone that’s like her wasn’t hard to replicate.
As she was leaving (because he told her to), she remembered to trust her instinct, he had said.
Her instinct told her to ask his name, so she did.
“Hey. What’s your name?” she asked.
For a split second she half-expected him to say that he can’t tell her, that she can’t know, like Future Him always had.
“Peter.”
And it was a real struggle to keep that secret smile off of her face, but she tried.
“I’m Claire,” she said, because it’s only polite.
-----
She screamed at her dad that they had to go back, that they had to save him.
Dad didn't understand, she could tell, but he said he’d take care of it.
She trusts him enough to leave it at that.
-----
In the little cell, she asked her dad to leave because she wanted to be alone with him - wait, he had a name now! She asked her dad to leave because she wanted to be alone with Peter.
For the first time, he didn’t pause before answering every question. He spoke to her openly, and Claire longed to pump him for all sorts of information, but she had made a promise.
So she asked him stuff that Normal Claire would have asked him, and when she told him he was her hero, she let it shine out of her eyes. Just for a brief second.
She wondered if he’d noticed, if he knew. Probably not.
-----
Things start to suck, big time, after that.
-----
As soon as she saw the blood pour from her Dad’s torso, as soon as she saw the Haitian guy perform some weird mumbo-jumbo on him, she was terrified.
More so than she’d ever been, ever, in her whole life. More than with Brody, more than at Homecoming even.
So she did what her instinct told her to.
At the airport, she did all sorts of things that she’d never, ever in her life that she would.
Claire stole a wallet from a purse that was unattended for just a few seconds, and bought a ticket to New York. Didn't know if she could or she should. She was just reacting at this point, making up the plan as she went along.
Claire ditched the Haitian guy, the adult that shed been instructed by her dad to stick close to. She trusted her dad, sure. It’s not that that she didn't trust him. It was just that, at that moment, she trusted Peter more.
---
She was mad, so freaking mad at him that she didn’t object when her ‘Grandmother’ ordered her to go to Paris.
Her uncle. Her uncle! He was her uncle! Claire felt ill, sick to her stomach when her grandmother told her, had to excuse herself to the room she was staying in so she could cry quietly into her bedspread.
It all made sense. His dodgy responses to her search for her family. His desire to keep her alive. None of it was because he liked her or liked being with her, or even wanted her to stay around and keep him company.
No, he was just keeping his niece alive. Probably as a favor to his brother (who, by the way, was a gigantic douchebag). His family.
Why couldn’t he have hinted at it or something? Her mind had gone to all sorts of places that were now gross and sick.
But still, part of her wondered, wandered. Why had there been those weird, almost-kissing moments with Future Peter?
Future Uncle Peter, she thought miserably.
Claire decided that all of that stuff must have been in her mind, a figment of her own (now disgusting) imagination.
She wanted to punch him, but he hadn’t been around all afternoon, and anyway he wouldn’t get why she was so mad at him.
-----
None of her anger at him earlier in the day meant that she wanted this to happen.
His lifeless body. The blank eyes. Claire was crying before she even knew it.
But then she knew what to do. Remembered what to do.
She knew because he’d done it for her once, on a dusty cliff over a river in Texas.
-----
It’s really all too much. She goes in her room and cries again, odd little choking sobs that she tries to keep down so she won’t hear her. She has a father. She has an uncle. She has a grandmother, a step-mom, and two half-brothers.
What she doesn’t have is a Dad, and for a second she regrets her decision to come to New York, even though she knows it was the right one.
She didn't know what she was expecting - well, she knows what she expected but it was stupid of her to somehow hope that he would be waiting here for her. It was impossible, and she’s got a lot of time to kill before that happens.
So she might as well kill it in Paris. She wiped her face and sniffed a couple times, and started to pack her bag. The grandmother is stiff and cold and reminds her of a Cylon but she’s going to Paris with her so they might as well get used to each other.
When Peter comes into her room and tells her that she can’t leave, that they were meant to save the world, she shuts him down and argues almost every point. This Peter isn’t all-knowing, and his plans are stupid a lot of the time.
But she doesn’t argue when he tells her that this is destiny.
She knew that part was true a long time ago.
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He handed her a gun and she scoffed because he told her once that it wasn’t about killing, she remembered it perfectly. She asked if she had to kill someone in the future and he said no. He promised her.
So she tells him that this is lame but she tucked the gun into her coat anyway, because what the hell, her power is crap for self-defense and you never know.
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She has a little meltdown when she’s sitting by the fountain - it feels like she’s five again, the time she went to Disneyland with her parents, the time she got so tired and cranky and stressed that she just laid on her back and screamed in front of Captain EO for awhile.
She doesn’t lay on her back and scream in Kirby Plaza but she feels like it. She does the next best thing and cries for the people she misses - for her Dad and Mom and even Lyle but mostly for him, who doesn’t have a cell phone number or an email.
She didn't expect to see Peter stride up to her, and when he does she pretends, just for a minute, that his hair is shorter and his face a little more lined. It’s easy to do through the blurriness that is gathering in her eyes.
He wipes the tears off of her face, with the same rueful smile, and it’s so like their last goodbye - the one before Homecoming - that she wants to cry more, but she doesn’t.
next chapter!