"I've been up here all night thinking about this. Thinking about my destiny."

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

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

( Set during .07% )

Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: HEROES
Words: 485