wesavedeachother: ([Emote] Push Past The Pain)
[personal profile] wesavedeachother
The water was almost painfully hot on his skin. He still felt so desperately cold, from core to skin and back again.

Standing in the shower, he stared at his right forearm, at the spot where a scar used to be. He’d gotten it when he was six, a stray branch that had nailed him as he fell out of a tree he’d been climbing. It wasn’t there, and he’s sure he’s losing others with every use of Claire’s power...with every healing, his body fixed more of its own flaws. It was erasing the past with every use.

And Peter really couldn’t bring himself to care.

Turning off the faucet, Peter slid open the door and grabbed his towel off the bar outside and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower and over to the sink. The blood, sweat, and grime of his death and training were gone, but somehow he still felt the thin layer of it all clinging to his damp skin. He wasn’t clean yet, and he never would be.

And Peter couldn’t bring himself to care.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he thought of Claire again...sad eyes, sweet smile, iron will. She’s just a sweet, good-hearted teenage girl...and she’ll never know injury or death, not for the rest of her days. It’s made her strong inside, a flicker of iron beneath the emotion always in those pretty blue eyes.

His path had led him to die...and to be reborn at her hands a second time. There was nothing coincidental about it...nothing. Hiro sent him to save the cheerleader...and the cheerleader kept coming back to save him.

The cheerleader...his niece. If this wasn’t destiny, he didn’t know what was.

She was the one who was going to help him save the world.

I'm coming up on infra-red,
there is no running that can hide you
cause I can see in the dark

I'm coming up on infra-red,
forget your running, I will find you


As he combed his wet hair back from his face, for a moment his fingers strayed to run over the back of his neck, at the juncture where spine met skull...the brainstem. Even superheroes had an Achilles’ heel, right? He could feel a small mound of scar tissue just past the hairline...a reminder of his own mortality, of *their* mortality. She’d told him about the branch in her skull...how she’d been dead until the coroner pulled it from her skull.

Death couldn’t touch him, but not every scar would heal...there were some things even superpowers couldn’t eliminate or erase...some parts of the future that couldn’t be changed, parts of the past that couldn’t be ignored. They were bitter, grim thoughts...thoughts he never imagined would be his.

But nothing was the same anymore...nothing would be ever again.

Even if the world survived...it was a different place, and Peter was a different man.

And as unsettling a notion as it was...Peter just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 485

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Peter Petrelli

September 2008

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