Author: Meli Parker
Word Count: 1070
Characters and Pairing: Peter, Claire, Mr Bennet (HRG)
Warnings: Descriptions of gore
Spoilers: Up to Homecoming
Summary: Peter thinks about the night before when he gets an unexpected visitor. Mr Bennet(HRG) is doing what he does best.
Notes: Time is Running Out is a Muse song. It works well with Heroes. It's inspired by the song. I think this story can continue on in parts. Please leave feedback! Thank you!
Time is running out
He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. How did this happen? He went to save her, not kill her. It was hard to explain though: To her, to the cops, to himself. He closed his eyes and fell asleep against the cold cement wall.
The ground was hard. Peter had fallen so hard. When he opened his eyes, he saw a puddle of dark crimson surrounding him. It was his blood; he was lying in a pool of his own blood. Then he realised, his body wasn’t in the right place…nothing was in the right place. His neck was where his shoulder should have been, he legs were twisted like pretzels, the whole lower half of his body was turned backwards. From above, his body must have looked like a Picasso painting. Peter had died. Yet, somehow, he was able to put himself back together. The weird thing was, it felt natural; like he always put himself back together when he got hurt. There wasn’t a scratch on him after that.
He opened his eyes and stared into the bright morning light. “You have a visitor,” he heard a gruff man say from behind. His accent was extremely southern. Peter turned and rose his eyebrows. He saw a small blonde girl appear from behind the cop.
“You,” said Peter turning his whole body to her. He stood up and grabbed at the bars. She looked at him and then moved to greet him at the bars. The cop walked off.
“I told them it wasn’t you,” she said anxiously. “I told them the man was wearing a hat, not just a trench coat.”
“They didn’t go after him?” said Peter.
“They think you’re him Peter!” said Claire biting her lip.
“That’s not right…I was supposed to come here! To save a cheerleader and I did…Is the world saved Claire?” Peter asked her, pushing his hair back. She looked at him bewildered. Peter saw the look on her face. “You think I’m crazy don’t you.” She looked at him taken aback. She smiled and said,
“No, why would you think that?” She looked uncomfortable. Peter smiled out of the side of his lips.
“You have that look. It’s Nathan’s look,” said Peter.
“He’s my brother,” said Peter. “Did my name get out yet?”
“Like in the news and stuff?” asked Claire.
“Well, sort of,” said Claire. “Not you par say, but the fact the Jackie was killed.” Peter looked at her.
“That girl was killed?” said Peter. He had no idea. Claire had a vague expression on her face. It was one of sadness and repression, like she was holding back the horrors of the night before.
“Yeah,” she responded quietly. Peter fell to the ground. “What’s wrong? You didn’t know her. She wasn’t a very nice person in the end. I used to be her friend… but…she still didn’t deserve that. Besides, there was nothing you could have done.”
“I was right outside. In the painting, I was outside.” Peter looked up at her. “I should have stayed inside. I should have been inside the whole time, not just when I heard the scream.”
“What painting?” asked Claire intrigued by Peter. Peter looked at her and smiled.
“In the painting…” He paused knowing it was going to sound mad. “I’m outside your gym, at 8.12; lying dead on the ground.” She looked at him.
“But you didn’t die.”
“But it happened.” Peter pulled the picture out of his jacket and showed it to her. He had managed to hide it from the cops when they shook him down. Claire’s expression turned to horror.
“How…I don’t understand. Was this like, the future?” she asked.
“I know someone…he can paint the future and…” he looked at Claire. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Yeah,” said Claire waiting for what Peter had to say.
“I can too. When I’m with him,” said Peter. She looked at him not knowing what to ask next.
“I don’t know.”
“And…last night…you…put yourself…back together.” Peter looked at her. “How’d you do that?”
“I have no idea,” said Peter. “I don’t know exactly…what I can do.” Claire bit her lip.
“If you can paint the future Peter, why didn’t you know you would get arrested?” Peter had no response. Claire leaned down to Peter so that they were at eye level. Her voice was low. “I can’t die.”
“What?” asked Peter confused at the sudden statement. It came out of no where.
“I can’t die,” she whispered again. “You said when you’re with your friend that you can see the future, well; maybe because you were with me, you were able to heal like that.” Peter eyes went wide. “I dunno…I just feel like I can trust you Peter…”
“You’re the cheerleader!” said Peter sounding confident. “I didn’t mess up.”
“You lost me again Peter,” said Claire, voice back to normal volume.
“I was supposed to save you and in saving you, I would save the world.”
“I told you last night Peter, I’m just a cheerleader.” Peter just smiled at her.
He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. There was a loud noise. He didn’t see anyone though. “Hello?” Peter asked hearing his voice echo through the hallway. Peter looked as hard as he could. No one was there. Nothing was there, just darkness.
“Hello Mr Petrelli,” said a man’s voice. Peter jumped back looking for where it was coming from.
“Where are you!?” yelled Peter.
“No need to panic Mr Petrelli, you’ve just been moved from the prison.” Said the voice.
“What?” said Peter confused. He looked around the tiny space and realised he wasn’t where he was before. “Where am I?”
“Somewhere safe,” said the man. “Away from the jail, somewhere…where you can get the help you need.” Peter began to panic.
“Am I in a mental hospital?” asked Peter afraid of what the answer would be.
“No,” said the man. Peter was relieved. “You’re in a place where I can help you learn about yourself, about your brother.”
“About what’s happening to us?” asked Peter.
“You’ll see,” said the man. “But it will be easier if you will cooperate with me.”
“I will,” said Peter. All he wanted were answers.
“That’s good,” said the man. He paused. Peter heard him stutter a little bit. “Thank you.”
“For what?” asked Peter.
“Saving my daughter.”