Fic: For His Sake, One Shot (Peter/Claire)
Title: For His Sake
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,457
Pairings: Peter/Claire, Peter/Emma
Warnings: Spoilers/Speculations for volume 5
Summary: Claire watches Peter return from his mission, only this time-he’s not alone…
A/N: Oh my gooooooooodddddddd I cannot express how happy I am that I finally finished some Paire that isn’t a drabble! :D For those of you who don’t know, Emma is the name of Peter’s rumored to be girlfriend. I know she’s supposed to be powerful and already has a doctor and I really have no idea where she comes from but I can adjust those little details until the show starts, right? :P Anyhow, written for pairechallenge ’s one shot challenge “feel”.
Her name is Emma.
Claire hates her the second she walks through the Petrelli mansion double doors, the sound of her heels echoing loudly on the polished marble floor, clinging on to Peter’s hand and smiling nervously. It’s unfair and judgmental, not to mention completely unlike her to hate someone so much without any reason but for some unexplainable reason, she just can’t help it.
She’s beautiful; she’ll give her that. With her blond locks and a radiant smile, her beauty is the classic kind and it only makes Claire angrier though this time, streaked with a flash of jealousy.
She watches half hidden behind the staircase as Peter introduces her to Angela, all her previous excitement at his return long evaporated as Angela embraces the woman, smoothing her hair and tugging approvingly at the lapels of her jacket before she turns and slaps Peter’s face lightly in affection saying something Claire cant hear, or maybe she’s too preoccupied to notice.
Peter laughs as Angela walks away, the sound echoing around the mansion walls. It’s the first time she’s heard him laugh for as long as she can remember and it hurts her to know she isn’t the one making him but she can’t stop a small smile forming itself on her face at the sound of his voice and she’s almost about to go down and meet him, conveniently forgetting the woman beside him when he suddenly leans down and kisses her.
Claire freezes where she is, her grip around the banister tightening to an extent where her knuckles turn white. The kiss is slow, too slow, slow enough to make it painful for her to watch and her eyes are burning with silent tears by the time she turns away, ducking into her bedroom and closing the door firmly behind her before Peter has the chance to see her tear stained face.
…
There’s a knock on her door close to an hour later and she jumps up in bed, hastily wiping her face just as the knob turns and Peter walks in. There’s a moment of silence between them as his eyes lock on hers and she wonders if hers are still red from crying, wonders if he even cares if they are...
“Hey,” Peter says awkwardly, closing the door behind him and walking towards her. She mumbles a reply, her senses filling with the strong, unmistakable scent of his perfume as he sits down beside her and she clasps her hands together, avoiding his gaze. He says something about Angela telling her she was sleeping and how he’d been wanting to meet her since he’d arrived and all she replies to him with is a bitter smile.
There’s another awkward silence between them while Peter waits for her to say something but the image of him kissing Emma is still dancing tauntingly in front of her eyes she remains silent, fearing she’ll start crying again if she says anything. She can feel his eyes burning into her skin but she doesn’t meet his gaze. He asks if she’s okay, the concern and curiosity in his tone nothing but sincere and she nods curtly, still not speaking.
Peter sighs in slight frustration, standing up and running a hand through his hair. She finally looks up at him, follows the movement of his fingers as they thread roughly through his hair, leaving the dark strands to fall onto his face, brushing his forehead...He catches her staring at him and she looks away again, blushing. He stares at her silently for another long moment before turning away.
She bites her lip, feeling a slight tinge of guilt as she watches him leave through the curtain of her blond hair. She knows she’s being selfish and she doesn’t like it. It’s not like her. She’d missed Peter too much for words the past months and having him back home for was the only thing she’d asked for and she wasn’t going to let some random blond take the happiness of having her hero by her side again away from her…
He’s almost out the door when she calls out to him;
“Peter…” Her voice is barely a whisper but he hears her, he turns around, his face expectant as he looks at her and she swallows the painful lump in her throat. She fights the burn in her eyes as she takes an uneven breath, forcing herself to smile, “I missed you…” her voice cracks, and she feels her efforts go to waste as a tear slips past her eyelid, sliding down her cheek…
But then he’s there, catching it on the tip of his finger and brushing away its trail with the back of his hand as he runs it along her cheek lightly. The feel of his hand touching her skin is so achingly familiar that she leans into his touch, falling against his chest after one last attempt to hold back her emotions.
His arms come around her, pulling her tightly against his chest and she wraps her own around his waist, breathing deeply. “I missed you too…” he whispers into her hair and she smiles against him, constricting her arms tighter around him still, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck.
He remains sitting with her after that, his arms wrapped around her, his finger idly stroking her hair, moving to her arms tracing senseless patterns until she forgets everything but the feeling of him next to her… She relishes in his touch, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of his fingers gliding across her skin soothe her.
She musters the courage to bring up the topic of Emma herself after a while, breaking the silence with a causal inquiry of where she is. Peter looks surprised, his fingers stopping halfway up her arms, curving around her elbow as he looks at her, his brow scrunched in confusion. She hastily explains seeing them from the top of the staircase, and not wanting to interrupt them.
Peter looks unsure of how to respond to that; clearly, he hadn’t been expecting her to already know about Emma. He eventually tells her she’s sleeping and she nods curtly, not pursuing the subject any further. Peter’s quiet for a moment and it doesn’t fail her notice that he’s no longer caressing her skin; a gesture she misses. A moment later, he speaks up, saying in a slow, thoughtful voice;
“Emma is…different, Claire,”
She feels another streak of anger and jealousy run through her at the way he uses her name but she controls herself, concentrating on the feeling of his fingers still curved around her elbow. The instant her brain focuses on that feeling, she relaxes. It’s crazy, but it works.
“How so?” she asks, trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone.
Peter sighs, removing his hands from around her and gently pushing her away to stand up. She watches him struggle for words in silence. He sighs again, running another hand through his hair as he looks at her.
“She’s disabled,” he says finally. Claire frowns, Peter looks at her, a hint of sadness on his features, “Emma can’t hear us, she’s…deaf.” Claire feels as if he’s just thrown a brick at her. Her eyes widen and Peter smiles sadly, “I found her in North Carolina,” he explains, “She’s got no family, the Company tracked them down and killed them years ago and she still blames herself. I couldn’t just leave her there so I brought her here to get help. Nathan’s got connections, maybe-maybe some doctor here in New York can help her get her hearing back…”
She stares at him with her mouth parted, rendered completely speechless. Tears rise in her eyes and she feels the anger inside her return. Only this time, it’s directed at herself. She hates how selfish she’d been, hates how she’d judged Emma for no reason. Peter seems surprised at her show of emotion and instantly moves to sit beside her.
“Hey…hey,” he says softly, pulling her into an embrace as the tears begin to fall. She clings onto him, feeling utterly ashamed at her behavior. Peter continues to mumble soothing words into her hair, pressing kisses to it but she can’t help feel that she doesn’t deserve them, doesn’t deserve Peter’s love…
But he holds her until she stops crying and wipes the tears from her face afterwards, smiling warmly at her and nothing has ever made her feel as guilty…
…
Emma is nice, she soon discovers. It’s difficult to communicate with her in the beginning because Claire can’t reply to whatever she says to her but Emma’s good at reading lips and she usually gets what Claire says and soon enough, Claire learns what little sign language she can. Peter’s face lights up whenever he sees Claire talking to Emma, laughing with her and Claire takes it as a way to make up for her previous behavior towards the woman.
It’s Christmas Eve and the usual Petrelli dinner is in progress. She’s leaning against a doorway in the corner, watching as Peter introduces Emma to specialist Dr. Conner’s. His hand is resting on the small of her back as the three speak and the gesture does make Claire feel slightly sad but she shakes it off.
She loves Peter, she’s not ashamed to admit that, but Peter makes Emma happy and that consequently makes him happy; knowing he’s doing something to help others and if that’s what he wants, she’ll accept it, accept Emma…for his sake.
Peter looks over to her suddenly and smiles, she’s too lost in thought to respond but she’s certain that she’s already smiling, albeit sadly. He excuses himself from Emma and Dr. Conner’s, coming over to stand beside her.
“You look beautiful,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling as he smiles, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She blushes, mumbling an embarrassed thank you.
Peter shakes his head, “I meant to thank you, Claire…” he says quietly.
She looks up at him confused, “For what?” she asks, surprised.
“For how good you’ve been with Emma” he says, smiling at her. She feels a little glow ignite inside her; a feeling you get only when you know you’ve done something good…“…despite how you feel about her,” he adds in a quieter voice, glancing around to make sure they aren’t being overheard.
Claire’s heart stops beating as she looks at him, eyes wide. She makes a motion to question him, deny whatever he thinks but he smiles, holding up a finger, “I’ve been meaning to tell you…” he says, “I got my empathy back…”
Her face breaks into a smile despite the feeling of dread in her stomach at the thought of what that could mean. “That’s great!” she exclaims, “When? How?”
He laughs, “I don’t know… one day I woke up and…” he waves his hand as if to say and there you have it…
She pulls him into a tight hug, pulling away quickly, her teeth biting at her lower lip as she regards him with a scared expression “Did you-did you hear my thoughts just now?” she asks, afraid of what she’ll find. Peter smiles softly and nods. She blushes, cursing under her breath as she ducks her head. Peter doesn’t push her on whatever he heard. On the contrary, he gives her a moment to recover from the shock.
“Mistletoe…” he says suddenly, his voice low.
Her head snaps up to his face before glancing above them. True to his words, she finds a string of mistletoe above them and she blushes, moving away but he grabs her hands, pulling her back. He’s suddenly much closer to her and she finds it difficult to breathe properly because of his closeness. He frames her face gently with his hands and she feels her eyes flutter shut as he leans in, her hands helplessly holding onto to his waist to keep from collapsing to the ground.
His lips are soft as they meet hers with the gentlest of pressures. She clutches onto the material of his jacket, pulling him closer and hoping that everyone is too preoccupied to notice them because no matter how much she loves him, he’s still her uncle; a guilty fact she’ll have to live with and even the excuse of the mistletoe above them isn’t enough to justify the way they’re kissing. She’s sure there’s more passion in it than necessary.
But she’s not going to complain. If she can’t have Peter completely, she can at least have this. It’s just a kiss but if that’s what she’s getting, she’s going to relish in every moment of it. Peter seems to be thinking along the same lines, either he’s feeling sorry for her or...she allows herself a little glimmer of hope…he feels the same way about her too but is held back by the bond that binds them together…
Either way, she lets all thoughts go from her mind, sliding her hands up from his waist to pull him closer as he pulls away, placing light kisses on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. She means to tell him someone might see them and question their closeness until he laughs, picking it up in her thoughts and telling her they can’t because he’s made them invisible.
She can’t help but laugh at that and she bites her lip in contemplation before kissing him again, it’s just one last peck on the lips and she moves away, pulling him into a hug. He holds her close, his hand cupping the back of her head, cradling her to him as she presses her face into the crook of his neck, holding back tears.
“I’m sorry, Claire,” he says quietly and she doesn’t need to ask what for.
“It’s enough,” she replies, pulling away and smiling at him. She sees Emma’s eyes scanning the room for him, her expression uncomfortable and nervous. She turns back to Peter, “You should go back to her,” she says. Peter stares at her and she smiles reassuringly, “Go…” she urges, pushing him lightly.
He reaches towards her, his fingers lightly brushing the skin on her cheek as he gives her a sad smile before heading across the room for Emma. Her face lights up when she sees him and she wraps an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Peter tucks her head under his chin, his eyes locking on Claire’s from across the room.
She smiles at him again, trying to hold back tears as she turns away, her fingers going up to press lightly against her lips, the feeling of Peter’s lips on hers still vivid in her mind…
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,457
Pairings: Peter/Claire, Peter/Emma
Warnings: Spoilers/Speculations for volume 5
Summary: Claire watches Peter return from his mission, only this time-he’s not alone…
A/N: Oh my gooooooooodddddddd I cannot express how happy I am that I finally finished some Paire that isn’t a drabble! :D For those of you who don’t know, Emma is the name of Peter’s rumored to be girlfriend. I know she’s supposed to be powerful and already has a doctor and I really have no idea where she comes from but I can adjust those little details until the show starts, right? :P Anyhow, written for pairechallenge ’s one shot challenge “feel”.
Her name is Emma.
Claire hates her the second she walks through the Petrelli mansion double doors, the sound of her heels echoing loudly on the polished marble floor, clinging on to Peter’s hand and smiling nervously. It’s unfair and judgmental, not to mention completely unlike her to hate someone so much without any reason but for some unexplainable reason, she just can’t help it.
She’s beautiful; she’ll give her that. With her blond locks and a radiant smile, her beauty is the classic kind and it only makes Claire angrier though this time, streaked with a flash of jealousy.
She watches half hidden behind the staircase as Peter introduces her to Angela, all her previous excitement at his return long evaporated as Angela embraces the woman, smoothing her hair and tugging approvingly at the lapels of her jacket before she turns and slaps Peter’s face lightly in affection saying something Claire cant hear, or maybe she’s too preoccupied to notice.
Peter laughs as Angela walks away, the sound echoing around the mansion walls. It’s the first time she’s heard him laugh for as long as she can remember and it hurts her to know she isn’t the one making him but she can’t stop a small smile forming itself on her face at the sound of his voice and she’s almost about to go down and meet him, conveniently forgetting the woman beside him when he suddenly leans down and kisses her.
Claire freezes where she is, her grip around the banister tightening to an extent where her knuckles turn white. The kiss is slow, too slow, slow enough to make it painful for her to watch and her eyes are burning with silent tears by the time she turns away, ducking into her bedroom and closing the door firmly behind her before Peter has the chance to see her tear stained face.
…
There’s a knock on her door close to an hour later and she jumps up in bed, hastily wiping her face just as the knob turns and Peter walks in. There’s a moment of silence between them as his eyes lock on hers and she wonders if hers are still red from crying, wonders if he even cares if they are...
“Hey,” Peter says awkwardly, closing the door behind him and walking towards her. She mumbles a reply, her senses filling with the strong, unmistakable scent of his perfume as he sits down beside her and she clasps her hands together, avoiding his gaze. He says something about Angela telling her she was sleeping and how he’d been wanting to meet her since he’d arrived and all she replies to him with is a bitter smile.
There’s another awkward silence between them while Peter waits for her to say something but the image of him kissing Emma is still dancing tauntingly in front of her eyes she remains silent, fearing she’ll start crying again if she says anything. She can feel his eyes burning into her skin but she doesn’t meet his gaze. He asks if she’s okay, the concern and curiosity in his tone nothing but sincere and she nods curtly, still not speaking.
Peter sighs in slight frustration, standing up and running a hand through his hair. She finally looks up at him, follows the movement of his fingers as they thread roughly through his hair, leaving the dark strands to fall onto his face, brushing his forehead...He catches her staring at him and she looks away again, blushing. He stares at her silently for another long moment before turning away.
She bites her lip, feeling a slight tinge of guilt as she watches him leave through the curtain of her blond hair. She knows she’s being selfish and she doesn’t like it. It’s not like her. She’d missed Peter too much for words the past months and having him back home for was the only thing she’d asked for and she wasn’t going to let some random blond take the happiness of having her hero by her side again away from her…
He’s almost out the door when she calls out to him;
“Peter…” Her voice is barely a whisper but he hears her, he turns around, his face expectant as he looks at her and she swallows the painful lump in her throat. She fights the burn in her eyes as she takes an uneven breath, forcing herself to smile, “I missed you…” her voice cracks, and she feels her efforts go to waste as a tear slips past her eyelid, sliding down her cheek…
But then he’s there, catching it on the tip of his finger and brushing away its trail with the back of his hand as he runs it along her cheek lightly. The feel of his hand touching her skin is so achingly familiar that she leans into his touch, falling against his chest after one last attempt to hold back her emotions.
His arms come around her, pulling her tightly against his chest and she wraps her own around his waist, breathing deeply. “I missed you too…” he whispers into her hair and she smiles against him, constricting her arms tighter around him still, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck.
He remains sitting with her after that, his arms wrapped around her, his finger idly stroking her hair, moving to her arms tracing senseless patterns until she forgets everything but the feeling of him next to her… She relishes in his touch, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of his fingers gliding across her skin soothe her.
She musters the courage to bring up the topic of Emma herself after a while, breaking the silence with a causal inquiry of where she is. Peter looks surprised, his fingers stopping halfway up her arms, curving around her elbow as he looks at her, his brow scrunched in confusion. She hastily explains seeing them from the top of the staircase, and not wanting to interrupt them.
Peter looks unsure of how to respond to that; clearly, he hadn’t been expecting her to already know about Emma. He eventually tells her she’s sleeping and she nods curtly, not pursuing the subject any further. Peter’s quiet for a moment and it doesn’t fail her notice that he’s no longer caressing her skin; a gesture she misses. A moment later, he speaks up, saying in a slow, thoughtful voice;
“Emma is…different, Claire,”
She feels another streak of anger and jealousy run through her at the way he uses her name but she controls herself, concentrating on the feeling of his fingers still curved around her elbow. The instant her brain focuses on that feeling, she relaxes. It’s crazy, but it works.
“How so?” she asks, trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone.
Peter sighs, removing his hands from around her and gently pushing her away to stand up. She watches him struggle for words in silence. He sighs again, running another hand through his hair as he looks at her.
“She’s disabled,” he says finally. Claire frowns, Peter looks at her, a hint of sadness on his features, “Emma can’t hear us, she’s…deaf.” Claire feels as if he’s just thrown a brick at her. Her eyes widen and Peter smiles sadly, “I found her in North Carolina,” he explains, “She’s got no family, the Company tracked them down and killed them years ago and she still blames herself. I couldn’t just leave her there so I brought her here to get help. Nathan’s got connections, maybe-maybe some doctor here in New York can help her get her hearing back…”
She stares at him with her mouth parted, rendered completely speechless. Tears rise in her eyes and she feels the anger inside her return. Only this time, it’s directed at herself. She hates how selfish she’d been, hates how she’d judged Emma for no reason. Peter seems surprised at her show of emotion and instantly moves to sit beside her.
“Hey…hey,” he says softly, pulling her into an embrace as the tears begin to fall. She clings onto him, feeling utterly ashamed at her behavior. Peter continues to mumble soothing words into her hair, pressing kisses to it but she can’t help feel that she doesn’t deserve them, doesn’t deserve Peter’s love…
But he holds her until she stops crying and wipes the tears from her face afterwards, smiling warmly at her and nothing has ever made her feel as guilty…
…
Emma is nice, she soon discovers. It’s difficult to communicate with her in the beginning because Claire can’t reply to whatever she says to her but Emma’s good at reading lips and she usually gets what Claire says and soon enough, Claire learns what little sign language she can. Peter’s face lights up whenever he sees Claire talking to Emma, laughing with her and Claire takes it as a way to make up for her previous behavior towards the woman.
It’s Christmas Eve and the usual Petrelli dinner is in progress. She’s leaning against a doorway in the corner, watching as Peter introduces Emma to specialist Dr. Conner’s. His hand is resting on the small of her back as the three speak and the gesture does make Claire feel slightly sad but she shakes it off.
She loves Peter, she’s not ashamed to admit that, but Peter makes Emma happy and that consequently makes him happy; knowing he’s doing something to help others and if that’s what he wants, she’ll accept it, accept Emma…for his sake.
Peter looks over to her suddenly and smiles, she’s too lost in thought to respond but she’s certain that she’s already smiling, albeit sadly. He excuses himself from Emma and Dr. Conner’s, coming over to stand beside her.
“You look beautiful,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling as he smiles, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She blushes, mumbling an embarrassed thank you.
Peter shakes his head, “I meant to thank you, Claire…” he says quietly.
She looks up at him confused, “For what?” she asks, surprised.
“For how good you’ve been with Emma” he says, smiling at her. She feels a little glow ignite inside her; a feeling you get only when you know you’ve done something good…“…despite how you feel about her,” he adds in a quieter voice, glancing around to make sure they aren’t being overheard.
Claire’s heart stops beating as she looks at him, eyes wide. She makes a motion to question him, deny whatever he thinks but he smiles, holding up a finger, “I’ve been meaning to tell you…” he says, “I got my empathy back…”
Her face breaks into a smile despite the feeling of dread in her stomach at the thought of what that could mean. “That’s great!” she exclaims, “When? How?”
He laughs, “I don’t know… one day I woke up and…” he waves his hand as if to say and there you have it…
She pulls him into a tight hug, pulling away quickly, her teeth biting at her lower lip as she regards him with a scared expression “Did you-did you hear my thoughts just now?” she asks, afraid of what she’ll find. Peter smiles softly and nods. She blushes, cursing under her breath as she ducks her head. Peter doesn’t push her on whatever he heard. On the contrary, he gives her a moment to recover from the shock.
“Mistletoe…” he says suddenly, his voice low.
Her head snaps up to his face before glancing above them. True to his words, she finds a string of mistletoe above them and she blushes, moving away but he grabs her hands, pulling her back. He’s suddenly much closer to her and she finds it difficult to breathe properly because of his closeness. He frames her face gently with his hands and she feels her eyes flutter shut as he leans in, her hands helplessly holding onto to his waist to keep from collapsing to the ground.
His lips are soft as they meet hers with the gentlest of pressures. She clutches onto the material of his jacket, pulling him closer and hoping that everyone is too preoccupied to notice them because no matter how much she loves him, he’s still her uncle; a guilty fact she’ll have to live with and even the excuse of the mistletoe above them isn’t enough to justify the way they’re kissing. She’s sure there’s more passion in it than necessary.
But she’s not going to complain. If she can’t have Peter completely, she can at least have this. It’s just a kiss but if that’s what she’s getting, she’s going to relish in every moment of it. Peter seems to be thinking along the same lines, either he’s feeling sorry for her or...she allows herself a little glimmer of hope…he feels the same way about her too but is held back by the bond that binds them together…
Either way, she lets all thoughts go from her mind, sliding her hands up from his waist to pull him closer as he pulls away, placing light kisses on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. She means to tell him someone might see them and question their closeness until he laughs, picking it up in her thoughts and telling her they can’t because he’s made them invisible.
She can’t help but laugh at that and she bites her lip in contemplation before kissing him again, it’s just one last peck on the lips and she moves away, pulling him into a hug. He holds her close, his hand cupping the back of her head, cradling her to him as she presses her face into the crook of his neck, holding back tears.
“I’m sorry, Claire,” he says quietly and she doesn’t need to ask what for.
“It’s enough,” she replies, pulling away and smiling at him. She sees Emma’s eyes scanning the room for him, her expression uncomfortable and nervous. She turns back to Peter, “You should go back to her,” she says. Peter stares at her and she smiles reassuringly, “Go…” she urges, pushing him lightly.
He reaches towards her, his fingers lightly brushing the skin on her cheek as he gives her a sad smile before heading across the room for Emma. Her face lights up when she sees him and she wraps an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Peter tucks her head under his chin, his eyes locking on Claire’s from across the room.
She smiles at him again, trying to hold back tears as she turns away, her fingers going up to press lightly against her lips, the feeling of Peter’s lips on hers still vivid in her mind…