wesavedeachother: ([Emote] Troubled Mind)
Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it’s knees

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto me…

It felt like the final nail in a coffin he`d never built. He`d crossed a line here, a line he couldn`t see or remember...a line that appeared the moment he`d opened the box. )

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 528
wesavedeachother: ([Emote] Troubled Mind)
Wake up cold coffee and juice
Remembering you
What happened to you?

They bring him food every day...three square meals, all of them wonderful. He’s really not in any position to enjoy them as much as they probably hope he will, but he does notice them. The hardest meal, though, is breakfast.

They bring him coffee every day....coffee and juice. Every day, just a few hours before he gets his morning meds, they bring his meal...grapefruit and a bagel, his favorite stand-by. They even bring his favorite brand of cream cheese...and, of course, a large cup of coffee with a glass of fresh orange juice.

He can’t help but wonder if it’s intentional...if maybe Lorelai and Rory somehow found him here, since they haven’t yet allowed Peter to contact his family. Maybe Lorelai found out he was here, maybe Rory’s trying to reach him through her. Maybe it’s a message from the outside world saying that he’s still needed...still remembered.

When the bitter, earthy flavor of the coffee touches his tongue, he wonders if she thinks of him as often as he thinks of her. He wonders, with every tart sip of his juice, if she thinks about their morning breakfasts the same way he does...lots of coffee for them both, his bagel and her muffin...and, of course, his orange juice. So, as he loved to tease, when the coffee gave him an ulcer and it finally perforated, at least the blood he puked up would be a nice citrus flavor.

Rory...she’s all he thinks of anymore. It’s her he thinks of when the voice touches his ears through a drainpipe and six to ten inches of solid concrete as he stared at his morning juice and coffee, using words like ‘prisoner’ for the first time.

It’s those breakfasts he remembers as the voice starts talking about escape.

And it’s Rory and those breakfasts he’s remembering when, with a large, scalding swallow of his coffee, he finally agrees to stop taking his medication.

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 330
wesavedeachother: ([Emote] Sick With Power)
It is folly for a man to pray to the gods for that which he has the power to obtain by himself.- Epicurus

A letter left behind for the Petrelli family in a safety deposit box that remains unopened and undiscovered...

I’m not religious...not really. I could get all stuffy and say it’s because I was a nurse, or more specifically, because I was a hospice nurse. You watch someone die, you lose faith, all that sorta stuff. That’s not me, though...if anything, being with Charles Deveaux during his final days was...well, it was inspiring to watch the way that man stood up to the end.

I guess you could call me a relaxed agnostic...I believe in a higher power, but I don’t believe that he holds as much control over our lives as some would want to believe. I believe more in destiny and fate than I do in a religious sort of God. Prayer and petition...that’s not where I put my faith.

There’s only one place I’ve ever put any real faith, and yeah, if you want to? You can call it religious. That place is in people...a man or a woman strong enough to make their own way. They don’t pray for their fortunes to come, they make their own. That doesn’t make you weak or despicable if you pray...what makes you weak is if you rely on God to save you.

God doesn’t have the power to save us...we do. By doing what we have to, doing what we were born to do...great things, small things, but all things that leave a mark somewhere. It can be small, like making a dying man’s final days easier to bear...or it can be big, like saving a city from a nuclear bomb.

Small, like saving a cheerleader...or big, like saving the world.

Mom...I forgive you. You did what you had to.

Nathan...I love you. Never forget that...no matter what.

Rory...no matter what happens to me, don’t believe in God or chance. Don’t even believe in me.

Believe in us...believe that I love you.

And all of you...even if you believe the worst, believe that I’m coming home.

All my love,

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Words: 355
wesavedeachother: ([Hero] Did I Save The World?)
All I can say about life is, oh God, enjoy it! - Bob Hope

Something was still wrong...he just couldn’t put his finger on what.

Peter tried to push off the feeling, but it surged to the surface in full force as he took a deep swallow of the beer Caitlin had set in front of him a moment before. The mild, refreshing sting of carbonation washed over his tongue, as did the thick bite of alcohol. He could smell the hops, see the cheerful glitter of the golden liquid in the glass, reflecting the low light of the pub as he set it back down on the bar.

Frowning, Peter lost himself in his own thoughts as he looked up and around the mildly busy pub, wondering where this came from. There were moments, if he tried very hard, where he felt the weight of his own memory loss...the helplessness and loneliness of having nothing to connect to, nothing to define himself but a box of bits and pieces that frightened him with their possibility.

And when he wasn’t trying...these moments snuck up on him. When all at once, the world sprang to life in a way that had nothing to do with these unusual abilities he’d been displaying. He wasn’t hearing something from a mile away when a drinking song in the corner of the room caught his attention and came alive in his ears, jubilant and sweet. He wasn’t smelling anything but Caitlin’s perfume when it filled his lungs and made his gut clench with lust and his heart contract with something other than love...a desire to love. A need to care, to connect...and somewhere in the depths of it all, a strange sort of grief...regret.

The cold beer sliding down his throat was rich with flavors, textures, and smells that called to things he knew he ought to remember. It spoke of warm, lazy summer barbeques, nights of camaraderie and conversation at a bar like this one with friends who had no faces...

Skies were bluer. Each breath was sweeter. He had a place here now...a niche that just might become home in enough time. It was a place to mull over his options, maybe prepare himself for the truth of who and what he really was...

But this felt like a piece of something he shouldn’t have forgotten. Every day he woke up and felt this way...when bits of the world sang out to him and made his soul ache with relief and joy, it felt like something he’d come close to losing.

Every day in the world felt like a victory...and it felt wrong to Peter that he didn’t remember why.

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Words: 442
wesavedeachother: ([Hero] Did I Save The World?)
There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root. - David Thoreau

Linderman was the bad guy...he was the villain in this story, but he wasn’t the man to stop. Horn Rimmed Glasses...Noah Bennet, Claire’s adopted father? He was a pawn in a larger game, a villain that had seen the error of his ways...but he wasn’t the man to stop.

Everyone was chasing the shadows...but I was the darkness. And I was the only one who saw it.

I spent the better part of five weeks trying to figure it all out, trying to stop what I knew was coming, and all around me there were others that had it pegged all wrong. They didn’t understand the truth...how evil things can come from out of the blue, without rhyme, reason, or even malicious intent. They looked to the bad guys for the bad things.

All it really ended up being was me...this big accident waiting to happen. And I was careful, I tried...I tried to learn, tried to get away before I could hurt anyone...

Until I realized, all things considered, if it hadn’t been me? It probably *would* have been Ted or Sylar. My presence at least gave New York a fighting chance. Not much, but it was something...and now I know that I had to be there so Hiro could save not just New York...but all of us. Without him, Sylar would have continued hunting the rest of us...he would have become more than a killer, he would have become a plague.

Trust me, I know...for a few horrific moments, I *was* a plague...a plague just waiting to be set free.

Nathan saved me from that, though...I know he was going to go along with it, let me explode to create this new utopia through fear, but he couldn’t do it. He’s more like me than he ever wanted to admit because he cares as much as I do. The faces of the innocent that were going to die...I know he could see them. I knew they were calling out to him.

So in the end, everyone who was fighting those smaller battles against the shades of Armageddon...they all came together in Kirby Plaza that night to kill that final branch before Nathan came in to help me cut away that final root.

I saved the cheerleader...and together, we saved the world.

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 397
wesavedeachother: ([Emote] Push Past The Pain)
Set during .07% )

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 485
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 03:52 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios