(the dust of ages) chapter fourteen: i know it's over
Title: The Dust of Ages
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Peter/Claire. Written for eowyn_girl.
Rating: R for themes, language, some adult situations. But mostly themes.
Status: 14/15. 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.
------------------------
Peter stumbled out of Claire’s apartment and down the steps of her building. He somehow flagged a cab and made it back to his place. His brain was reeling, racing with all sorts of thoughts that he was having a hard time shutting off.
He thought about it for a minute, and then he threw the door of his freezer open, reached for the clear glass bottle inside.
And then he drank. A lot. He got good and drunk and then he threw up, twice, and fell asleep on the floor of his bathroom.
He felt better the next morning. He took a shower and combed his hair and talked to himself in the mirror and at some points he wondered if he was going crazy but crazy people think they’re sane, so he was probably okay.
Then he sat down on his couch. He read the rules, over and over, and tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. That was the easy part.
He had a mission, and whenever he had a mission - an important one - it was always easier to concentrate.
This was important.
Still, the only time he’d successfully done a spatial jump was when Claire was giving birth. And then he’d barely thought about it, just pinched his eyes shut and thought about her, and there he was.
He’d tried to do a spatial jump hundreds of times since then. He’d even had Hiro try to coach him. He never had any luck.
How could he could he travel in time if he couldn’t even do a spatial jump?
The first date on the list in his hand stared at him. He thought of Claire at sixteen. That was almost five years ago. She’d had long hair then. Curls that bounced over the back of her cheerleading uniform.
Claire.
Suddenly his living room seemed to expand and grow taller. Peter pinched his eyes shut and rubbed them forcefully.
When he opened his eyes he was in a teenage girl’s room, and he could hear the sound of a shower tap squeaking.
He was only a little surprised to find that the reason he’d never been able to time travel before was apparently his lack of a certain catalyst.
-----
That morning, Claire bounced Danny on her knee, his tiny fingers gripping onto hers.
He was a morning baby - loved to be up with the sun, loved to eat his breakfast early and then settle down to the busy work of playing with his toys and having his mother read to him.
She read books to him in twenty different voices, each one making Danny chuckle and demand more.
There was lightness in the heart of Claire, warmth in a place that had only known steely determination for a long time.
Determination was a fine sentiment on its own, for sure. But Claire preferred this new emotion, the one that made her feel light as air.
-----
It was his third visit, the third time that he’d waited impatiently in his apartment, counting down the minutes. To jump back, to go back to her.
He paced the floor, and fitfully slept for a few hours at a time. He ate very little and was mostly concentrated on the task at hand as he waited.
She was adorable - a completely innocent child. She was sixteen and she smiled at him with her teeth and her laugh seemed to come a lot easier at that age - a thought that saddens him to the core when he realizes it.
He doesn’t want to corrupt that. From the first minute he sees her in her funny little bathrobe, he tries to be nothing but easygoing and friendly toward her. He forces his face into a steady grin that, after awhile, comes pretty naturally.
There is going to be plenty of intense conversations in her life to come, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to add to that torment right now.
Claire at sixteen is so heartbreakingly open to him. He can ask her anything, and she’ll tell him what she thinks, what she feels. It’s remarkably honest and…intimate. So unlike how Claire treats him in the future.
It’s his fault she’s that way. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
The good part is that he is not tempted. In fact he feels terribly old around her. He’s thirty-one now, old enough to be this Claire’s father, sort of.
He won’t let himself think of what she said about Danny. Can’t even go there.
It’s like the rules said, the ones that were written in his hand, the ones that he carefully memorized after the first time he went back. They’re pretty bare bones, but he sticks to them rigidly.
-Don’t share details.
-Don’t mess with stuff you shouldn’t.
-Try not to move around too much.
-Get Claire to trust you, and her instincts. She has to know that she can rely on you. It’s going to save her life.
That last line is the entire reason he’s even doing this.
Peter didn't know who wrote these rules. The handwriting is so obviously his own, or else he’d declare some sort of treachery.
He thought long and hard after that first visit. About why it would be so important to bond Claire to himself, why her instincts were something she needed to learn to listen to. He thought about it for hours. He had nothing but hours to think.
And then he formulated a sort of theory. He was always, always surprised at the beginning there how much she had trusted him - how she ran to New York to hide with him, how she always seemed to willingly cling to him, to let him take care of her.
It had never made sense, but he’d never questioned it…just accepted it for what it was. He can’t believe that he was ever that naïve.
She trusted him from day one because of the dates on the little piece of paper in his hand - the dates that he will visit her. When he’ll talk to her and make her feel comfortable and then in a couple months she will run to him to keep her safe. Which is why he keeps coming, now.
As for the paper…is it the chicken or the egg? He doesn’t know. It’s a circle - some weird, infuriating circle that Claire calls the Hand of God one night, just before she falls asleep in her bed.
And maybe it is.
He waits the clock out, watches the hands as the seconds tick past, and he keeps going.
His acceptance of the reality behind the situation doesn’t mean that he accepts the fact that he, that he is that father of Danny. That part is not relative to keeping Claire safe. That part is nothing more than him being weak, and he is not going to be weak.
He’s going to change this fucked-up destiny. He is.
-----
Claire brought a book by the Petrelli home one night, under the guise that Monty had said he wanted to read it.
She caught Nathan and Heidi at home, and they greet her warmly, happy she had come for a visit. Claire smiled shakily. They seem normal. Apparently her Dad hasn’t told the Petrelli’s.
Nathan drops everything and snuggles Danny to him, tosses him wildly into the air. Heidi kisses his cheeks with a loud smack.
The cat’s not out of the bag, not here at least. Yet. Claire’s smile is so relieved that Heidi mistakes it for a joke, and teases Nathan mercilessly about the baby-talk voice he uses to speak to Danny.
Claire stays for a cup of tea and some lemon cake that the cook pulls out of the pantry. In the middle of it all, Nathan looks up at her.
“Have you seen Peter lately?” Nathan asks abruptly, like it’s something he’s just now realized.
“Um, no…not in a couple days…” said Claire.
“Me neither,” said Nathan. “That’s odd.”
“I think he’s pretty busy with some work, or something. Yeah, I think he said something about that,” said Claire.
“Ah. Right, right,” said Nathan, and he asked Heidi if they were still going to some luncheon the next day.
Just a typical visit.
-----
Peter was lying on her bed. She slept quietly; the sixteen-year-old version of Claire Bennet, snuggled into the crook of his arm. It was his second to the last night with this person.
Only three more dates remained on his little piece of paper.
He needed a plan. Badly. He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his forehead, resisted the urge to punch himself there repeatedly.
Claire moved in her sleep, rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
One date, the one tomorrow night, was to say goodbye, to remind her of the rules, of how to keep herself safe. She’d meet Right Now Peter the next night at her Homecoming game.
Another date was her two years from now. God knows why. Does she need him? Does he need to be there to prevent something? It could be nothing at all, but the date is there and he doesn’t think he should risk skipping it.
Which is beside the point, really, because the real trouble is…
The last one. He had just calculated the dates in his head, twice, and now he knows, knows very well what that last date means.
Idiot. He’s dense. He should have figured it out before now. Peter rubbed his eyes.
In a way, it’s good though. Now the decision is all the easier, right? He knows the exact date that is going to result in a small baby with his eyes and her curls and his torso and God, he was a fool for not figuring it out earlier.
Maybe he had always known, and just couldn’t face it.
At the beginning of his visits to Claire, he would have declared this conversation currently hurtling through his mind A Joke. The real Peter wouldn’t be thinking twice about this. It was wrong, very wrong, and he knew better.
So what was the problem? He has the dates. He knows how to prevent it. And yet…he found himself hesitating.
He hesitated about a lot of stuff. About the way Danny’s eyes would crinkle when he saw Peter walk into Claire’s apartment. About Danny’s strong legs, how they balance so proudly, so confidently on the tiny platform of Peter’s hands.
And most of all, he thinks about Danny’s mouth. It looks just like hers.
He told her, the sixteen-year-old her, that only she can make a change if she wants it. He made up some lie about it being her time so she’s the one that holds the power. That’s not true though. He just wants to offer her a way out if she wants it, a way to change her mind and her future. It’s only fair.
He wishes he could stop it - well, not exactly. He wishes that he could want to stop it. But he doesn’t.
He’s powerless against this. Against her.
Peter sighed, then hugged her closer. She shifted against him.
The moon created all sorts of shadows and hollows on Claire’s face, on her sleeping face next to him.
For a moment, she looks old. Like, grandma age. And it’s beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
next chapter!
a/n: one chapter left! i am going to try my very hardest to get the next chapter out tomorrow, but it needs some heavy editing that i have been putting off (blame le paire muse, which has currently left me). anyway, that might be hard since i'm on my way to pick up eclipse (hooray), and i doubt i'll be able to do anything until i finish the book. SO. long story short, don't kill me if there's not an update tomorrow, m'kay? actually, i wasnt able to get into eclipse so far, so i will update tomorrow.
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Peter/Claire. Written for eowyn_girl.
Rating: R for themes, language, some adult situations. But mostly themes.
Status: 14/15. 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.
------------------------
Peter stumbled out of Claire’s apartment and down the steps of her building. He somehow flagged a cab and made it back to his place. His brain was reeling, racing with all sorts of thoughts that he was having a hard time shutting off.
He thought about it for a minute, and then he threw the door of his freezer open, reached for the clear glass bottle inside.
And then he drank. A lot. He got good and drunk and then he threw up, twice, and fell asleep on the floor of his bathroom.
He felt better the next morning. He took a shower and combed his hair and talked to himself in the mirror and at some points he wondered if he was going crazy but crazy people think they’re sane, so he was probably okay.
Then he sat down on his couch. He read the rules, over and over, and tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. That was the easy part.
He had a mission, and whenever he had a mission - an important one - it was always easier to concentrate.
This was important.
Still, the only time he’d successfully done a spatial jump was when Claire was giving birth. And then he’d barely thought about it, just pinched his eyes shut and thought about her, and there he was.
He’d tried to do a spatial jump hundreds of times since then. He’d even had Hiro try to coach him. He never had any luck.
How could he could he travel in time if he couldn’t even do a spatial jump?
The first date on the list in his hand stared at him. He thought of Claire at sixteen. That was almost five years ago. She’d had long hair then. Curls that bounced over the back of her cheerleading uniform.
Claire.
Suddenly his living room seemed to expand and grow taller. Peter pinched his eyes shut and rubbed them forcefully.
When he opened his eyes he was in a teenage girl’s room, and he could hear the sound of a shower tap squeaking.
He was only a little surprised to find that the reason he’d never been able to time travel before was apparently his lack of a certain catalyst.
-----
That morning, Claire bounced Danny on her knee, his tiny fingers gripping onto hers.
He was a morning baby - loved to be up with the sun, loved to eat his breakfast early and then settle down to the busy work of playing with his toys and having his mother read to him.
She read books to him in twenty different voices, each one making Danny chuckle and demand more.
There was lightness in the heart of Claire, warmth in a place that had only known steely determination for a long time.
Determination was a fine sentiment on its own, for sure. But Claire preferred this new emotion, the one that made her feel light as air.
-----
It was his third visit, the third time that he’d waited impatiently in his apartment, counting down the minutes. To jump back, to go back to her.
He paced the floor, and fitfully slept for a few hours at a time. He ate very little and was mostly concentrated on the task at hand as he waited.
She was adorable - a completely innocent child. She was sixteen and she smiled at him with her teeth and her laugh seemed to come a lot easier at that age - a thought that saddens him to the core when he realizes it.
He doesn’t want to corrupt that. From the first minute he sees her in her funny little bathrobe, he tries to be nothing but easygoing and friendly toward her. He forces his face into a steady grin that, after awhile, comes pretty naturally.
There is going to be plenty of intense conversations in her life to come, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to add to that torment right now.
Claire at sixteen is so heartbreakingly open to him. He can ask her anything, and she’ll tell him what she thinks, what she feels. It’s remarkably honest and…intimate. So unlike how Claire treats him in the future.
It’s his fault she’s that way. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
The good part is that he is not tempted. In fact he feels terribly old around her. He’s thirty-one now, old enough to be this Claire’s father, sort of.
He won’t let himself think of what she said about Danny. Can’t even go there.
It’s like the rules said, the ones that were written in his hand, the ones that he carefully memorized after the first time he went back. They’re pretty bare bones, but he sticks to them rigidly.
-Don’t share details.
-Don’t mess with stuff you shouldn’t.
-Try not to move around too much.
-Get Claire to trust you, and her instincts. She has to know that she can rely on you. It’s going to save her life.
That last line is the entire reason he’s even doing this.
Peter didn't know who wrote these rules. The handwriting is so obviously his own, or else he’d declare some sort of treachery.
He thought long and hard after that first visit. About why it would be so important to bond Claire to himself, why her instincts were something she needed to learn to listen to. He thought about it for hours. He had nothing but hours to think.
And then he formulated a sort of theory. He was always, always surprised at the beginning there how much she had trusted him - how she ran to New York to hide with him, how she always seemed to willingly cling to him, to let him take care of her.
It had never made sense, but he’d never questioned it…just accepted it for what it was. He can’t believe that he was ever that naïve.
She trusted him from day one because of the dates on the little piece of paper in his hand - the dates that he will visit her. When he’ll talk to her and make her feel comfortable and then in a couple months she will run to him to keep her safe. Which is why he keeps coming, now.
As for the paper…is it the chicken or the egg? He doesn’t know. It’s a circle - some weird, infuriating circle that Claire calls the Hand of God one night, just before she falls asleep in her bed.
And maybe it is.
He waits the clock out, watches the hands as the seconds tick past, and he keeps going.
His acceptance of the reality behind the situation doesn’t mean that he accepts the fact that he, that he is that father of Danny. That part is not relative to keeping Claire safe. That part is nothing more than him being weak, and he is not going to be weak.
He’s going to change this fucked-up destiny. He is.
-----
Claire brought a book by the Petrelli home one night, under the guise that Monty had said he wanted to read it.
She caught Nathan and Heidi at home, and they greet her warmly, happy she had come for a visit. Claire smiled shakily. They seem normal. Apparently her Dad hasn’t told the Petrelli’s.
Nathan drops everything and snuggles Danny to him, tosses him wildly into the air. Heidi kisses his cheeks with a loud smack.
The cat’s not out of the bag, not here at least. Yet. Claire’s smile is so relieved that Heidi mistakes it for a joke, and teases Nathan mercilessly about the baby-talk voice he uses to speak to Danny.
Claire stays for a cup of tea and some lemon cake that the cook pulls out of the pantry. In the middle of it all, Nathan looks up at her.
“Have you seen Peter lately?” Nathan asks abruptly, like it’s something he’s just now realized.
“Um, no…not in a couple days…” said Claire.
“Me neither,” said Nathan. “That’s odd.”
“I think he’s pretty busy with some work, or something. Yeah, I think he said something about that,” said Claire.
“Ah. Right, right,” said Nathan, and he asked Heidi if they were still going to some luncheon the next day.
Just a typical visit.
-----
Peter was lying on her bed. She slept quietly; the sixteen-year-old version of Claire Bennet, snuggled into the crook of his arm. It was his second to the last night with this person.
Only three more dates remained on his little piece of paper.
He needed a plan. Badly. He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his forehead, resisted the urge to punch himself there repeatedly.
Claire moved in her sleep, rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
One date, the one tomorrow night, was to say goodbye, to remind her of the rules, of how to keep herself safe. She’d meet Right Now Peter the next night at her Homecoming game.
Another date was her two years from now. God knows why. Does she need him? Does he need to be there to prevent something? It could be nothing at all, but the date is there and he doesn’t think he should risk skipping it.
Which is beside the point, really, because the real trouble is…
The last one. He had just calculated the dates in his head, twice, and now he knows, knows very well what that last date means.
Idiot. He’s dense. He should have figured it out before now. Peter rubbed his eyes.
In a way, it’s good though. Now the decision is all the easier, right? He knows the exact date that is going to result in a small baby with his eyes and her curls and his torso and God, he was a fool for not figuring it out earlier.
Maybe he had always known, and just couldn’t face it.
At the beginning of his visits to Claire, he would have declared this conversation currently hurtling through his mind A Joke. The real Peter wouldn’t be thinking twice about this. It was wrong, very wrong, and he knew better.
So what was the problem? He has the dates. He knows how to prevent it. And yet…he found himself hesitating.
He hesitated about a lot of stuff. About the way Danny’s eyes would crinkle when he saw Peter walk into Claire’s apartment. About Danny’s strong legs, how they balance so proudly, so confidently on the tiny platform of Peter’s hands.
And most of all, he thinks about Danny’s mouth. It looks just like hers.
He told her, the sixteen-year-old her, that only she can make a change if she wants it. He made up some lie about it being her time so she’s the one that holds the power. That’s not true though. He just wants to offer her a way out if she wants it, a way to change her mind and her future. It’s only fair.
He wishes he could stop it - well, not exactly. He wishes that he could want to stop it. But he doesn’t.
He’s powerless against this. Against her.
Peter sighed, then hugged her closer. She shifted against him.
The moon created all sorts of shadows and hollows on Claire’s face, on her sleeping face next to him.
For a moment, she looks old. Like, grandma age. And it’s beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
next chapter!
a/n: one chapter left! i am going to try my very hardest to get the next chapter out tomorrow, but it needs some heavy editing that i have been putting off (blame le paire muse, which has currently left me). anyway, that might be hard since i'm on my way to pick up eclipse (hooray), and i doubt i'll be able to do anything until i finish the book. SO. long story short, don't kill me if there's not an update tomorrow, m'kay? actually, i wasnt able to get into eclipse so far, so i will update tomorrow.