![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quirkysmuseFandom: Heroes
Title: Petrelli Land
Rating: R/M
Chapters: 7/17
Characters/Pairings: Mainly Peter/Claire, implied Mohinder/Gabriel(Sylar), & others to be determined
Warnings/Spoilers: AU and Canon Paire, Season One Spoilers, turns AU from "How to Stop an Exploding Man", will not follow Season Two storyline.
Notes: This fic is inspired by the Marvel comic series, "House of M". The inspiration belongs to Marvel, and the Heroes characters belong to NBC and Tim Kring, but the story is entirely mine. Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
karathephantom for the beta job!
Edit: 8-12-2008
FFnet Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3735029/1/
Summary: After Peter encounters someone with a dangerous ability, his lack of control causes him to shift reality to the desire of others, where most are happy except one, who vows revenge. Paire.
Chapter Summary: Peter gets Mohinder's account on his 'lost' memories, and the doctor goes back to the lab and joins his assistant, Gabriel Gray. Peter finally comes to terms with his feelings about Claire in this new world.
[Previous Chapters]
Chapter Six
Dr. Mohinder Suresh was next in line of friends that would help him regain his memory. Peter, on one hand, would be very glad to see Mohinder, yet he felt anxious and was tempted to reveal his situation with Rena in order to gain the doctor's impartial advice. After some consideration, Peter had finally decided to keep Rena's secret to himself and let things remain as they were until he could find a better time to approach Mohinder about it.
He didn't know when that 'better time' would be, though. He had tossed and turned most of the early morning, trying to get some smidgen of sleep in spite of the thoughts of Claire that continued to plague him.
And when he woke up, he caught her humming and puttering around in the kitchen in a thin, short nightgown, which seemed to touch upon the very feelings he was trying to avoid. Against his better judgment, he rose from the couch and stared at her for several minutes, only to feel very perverted when she caught him and rewarded him with an innocent smile.
He was grateful when she told him Mohinder had called and had agreed for a late continental-type brunch in their suite. Peter hurriedly retreated to the bathroom, putting the shower on ice cold.
After his shower, he spent a majority of the late morning mulling over his thoughts, trying to focus on what Rena could have possibly meant when she warned him about the negative effects that would balance out the positive outcomes of this world. Of course, he could only think of the worst, and his thoughts played back to when Nathan had brushed off his propaganda as a status symbol, not intimidation. He feared the unseen dangers that would come with that attitude.
Thusly, he kept the rest of his thoughts at bay, urging him to accept his situation with Claire. If he gave in and realized her as his fiancée, he couldn’t bring himself to predict the complications with having to change her back as his niece if he had to return this world to its original state.
He grunted audibly, getting up from the bed and throwing a shirt on. Time had passed, and he heard the doorbell ring within their suite.
‘Here I go again,’ he thought anxiously, wondering how commonplace these visits from his friends were going to be.
--
When Mohinder sat down opposite from him at the kitchen table, Peter immediately picked up on the geneticist’s emotions, and he had never felt such warmth and balance from the man before. The doctor smiled at him, his eyes lighting with anticipation. He seemed readily excited to tell Peter these stories all over again.
“Peter, where shall we begin? It’s good to see you again, might I add. You’re lucky to catch me though. I was off to a flight to India to check on my cousin Rajya and how the family was holding up with their new elevated status.” Mohinder sipped his chai tea that Claire had set before him, and Peter watched him curiously.
“Elevated status?” Peter seemed confused. “Do you mean to tell me your family has become prominent in India since Nathan’s outing too?”
Mohinder laughed. “Well, it’s not like one incident could change the caste system. No, no, we’re more of a figurehead than anything. I’ve expanded my research in various parts of the world, and India is one of the strongholds. I’ve done significant good in the field, helping people come to terms with their powers and setting up delegation to support these people.” Peter felt impressed, which Mohinder picked up on. “As the idea of evolved humans becomes more widely accepted, people are reaching out for answers and looking for ways to harness and control their abilities.”
Peter harrumphed, unconvinced. “You really can’t tell me everything is unicorns and rainbows, doctor. I’m guessing that not all people are happy with this new evolutionary discovery.”
Mohinder pursed his lips, putting his mug of tea onto the table. The look in his eyes indicated Peter was right.
“Well, you could say that. But there’s a lot more progressives that outnumber people who can’t let go of the past. It’s been a trial, and I’m sure your brother likes to sugar coat the reality.”
“He basically brushes it off, Mohinder. He wouldn’t even tell me more about these resistance groups that are springing up everywhere. He wouldn’t let Claire tell me, but I know there’s something more than he’s letting on,” Peter said.
Mohinder sighed. “Well, the world isn’t perfect, even though most of it has appeared understanding of these special abilities. You’re right; some people have held onto the past and refused accept people with abilities.” Peter watched as Mohinder’s once peaceful expression scrunched in frustration. “It hasn’t been easy appealing to them, and there have been some skirmishes around the world, but mostly it’s the fear that we cannot change. People who are not special fear that they’ll be taken advantage of by someone, say, who can walk through walls or listen to their thoughts.
“That’s why Nathan, myself, and the Nakamura family, among others, have set up this network throughout the world to keep the peace and monitor those who would use their abilities for the wrong purposes. The majority of America may see Nathan as the hero he is, but it is taking longer for the whole world to adjust.” He paused, and he gave Peter a hopeful smile. “I’m confident that we can achieve a sense of semblance in due time, if we keep working hard to support those with abilities and not forget about those without. And now that your health is improving, I’m confident more than ever.”
“Me? Why me?” Peter asked, becoming confused again. He dreaded what Nathan may have told the world about him and his abilities.
“According all the data I’ve collected on every known Special out there, you’re the most powerful, Peter. You ability to mimic and store other abilities does not compare with anyone else’s. Your reputation of being a gentle, kind person also helps your case, and even while being too ill to be in the limelight, Nathan has used your name to dispel the fear in people about Specials.”
“I don’t get how someone as powerful as you say I am can dispel fear. That seems… audacious,” Peter commented. He couldn’t figure out Mohinder’s meaning.
“Well,” the geneticist spoke smiling, “in the past, America has prided itself on its powerful standing in the world. Having you on their side only boosters that hope.”
“Great, I’m a real, living Superman,” Peter replied sarcastically.
“Try not to be so cynical on the matter, Peter,” Mohinder reassured, and it sounded odd coming from him. Peter remembered at time when cynicism and doubt fueled a lot of the doctor’s past actions. “I have faith we can bring people into a new era of humanity.”
Peter could only reluctantly agree, yet he still had a bad taste in his mouth. Rena’s words of a balanced positive and negative world weighed heavily on his brain, washing out the optimism of Mohinder’s words.
--
Mohinder stepped into his New York office, laying his coat over a chair.
“Welcome back, doctor. I thought you’d be on your way to Delhi by now,” said a male voice behind him. Mohinder turned around and smiled.
“Oh, Gabriel. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. Yes, I had something come up for me. I’ll be staying here for a little while,” Mohinder explained.
Gabriel rose from his chair, setting his glasses aside. Mohinder caught a flash of unease on his face. “Oh? Is something wrong, doctor?”
Mohinder warmed genuinely from Gabriel’s concern. “Nothing serious. Peter Petrelli is having problems with his amnesia again. It’s the strangest thing.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “It’s almost as if his memory goes into hiccups, and he starts from square one at the time when he was rescued.”
Gabriel watched him in silence. Mohinder continued, “Well, in any case, I should probably stay until he regains his memory completely. Maybe I can figure out some way to stop it from happening again.”
Gabriel nodded, and Mohinder suddenly felt detached from his most trusted assistant. Gabriel looked tired, he thought, and he felt guilty for pulling him into his own personal problems. He didn’t want to overextend Gabriel’s abilities for his own friend. He’d find more valuable use for his skills with the more usual matters of special abilities.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to help Peter, and if you need assistance, I’m always here,” Gabriel said. Mohinder patted him on the shoulder and nodded.
“Thanks, Gabriel. I mean it.” He turned to his desk and detached his portable hard drive from his personal computer. “I just came to pick up my things. I’m going to do a little reading on Peter’s file before bed.”
“Don’t let your dedication get ahead of your need for sleep, Dr. Suresh,” Gabriel wagged a finger at him playfully. Mohinder gave him a nervous smile. Awkward silence slid between them again, and then Mohinder stopped as he was about to exit the door. He looked back at Gabriel.
“I understand if you’re busy, but ah…” Mohinder’s voice seemed to get lower. Gabriel's expression turned inquisitive yet patient with Mohinder’s usual hesitance. Mohinder felt like some stupid school boy, but nonetheless, he forced himself to make his thoughts known. “Are you coming over tonight?”
Gabriel’s wide smile put Mohinder at ease. “Just let me finish these reports on that boy from Costa Verde, and then I’ll come right over. I’ll stop by that late-night tea shop on the way.”
Mohinder nodded, and he could feel his pulse racing as he felt trapped by Gabriel’s gaze. He smiled lightly and turned through the doorway. “I’ll see you then,” he finally said, disappearing down the lab’s hallway.
--
There was nothing that Sylar delighted in more than playing Mohinder Suresh for a fool. He didn’t know how it happened, but one day he woke up in a world where his name was a shadowy villain beaten over by the heroic exploits of Hiro Nakamura and Nathan Petrelli. The name Gabriel Gray, however, was somehow untainted and unknown. It was as if the evidence that linked the two never existed, and he was given a new life.
However, he couldn’t be completely overjoyed with that knowledge. His rebirth had come with a price. He was living the life of a docile watchmaker turned research assistant. His powers of intuitive aptitude were used for tepid purposes of promoting the good of all, and not for the potential he intended.
And when Sylar woke up as docile Gabriel Gray, he realized that all of his powers that he’d rightfully gained were gone.
He was powerless despite his original gift, and all that was left was the chance to start his path over again.
In the grand scheme of things, the reality was more of a nuisance than a significant setback. He could take those powers all over again if he wanted too. Or he could choose the path of someone who was barely special, yet comfortable in their mode of life.
The second option was vile, he concluded, and did not fit his fate whatsoever.
He could deal with this glaring nuisance without problem, yet it was the nature by which he came to be in this position that angered him.
“Peter Petrelli,” he said to himself, thinking of Mohinder’s words. His memories of a distant, different world flooded to the surface. He smiled approvingly, yet still strongly held contempt for the man. “I see you’ve used the old woman’s powers.”
Sylar did not appreciate the picture that Peter Petrelli had painted him in. What good was it? He was a nobody and a lapdog to the whims of Dr. Suresh. For the life of him he could not see the purpose of altering reality for him to suit the needs of Dr. Suresh, and playing him like some doll only incensed him more.
Peter Petrelli had no right to do this to him. And by some strange beat of fate, he had come to this world with his memories intact and unaltered.
Sylar wouldn’t let Peter Petrelli or any of these ‘specials’ live comfortably in this joke of a world.
No one should have that power – except, maybe nobody but him.
He looked out the window, glaring at the billboard that sensationalized the heroic and kind Petrelli family. His maniacal smile turned into a frown of scorn.
What kind of world was this? He laughed and said, “What a waste.”
Sylar could have done much more with those powers, and it made him sick to be stuck here in a world created solely by the whimsical buffoonery of Peter Petrelli.
He knew one thing was for certain, though. This fairytale concocted by Saint Peter had to end, and he would be the one to do it – in time.
Sylar shut the blinds to the window and sat back in his chair. It was time to make plans.
--
“No fair!” Peter yelled, and Claire fell back on the floor in a fit of giggles.
“Peter, just admit it, LOL is not a word. You can’t use that in Scrabble!” Claire laughed again. Peter appeared defeated.
“How can I make a word with a bunch of Qs, Fs and Zs? Last time I checked, Fozq wasn’t a word either.”
Claire burst into laughter again. “So are you admitting defeat?”
Peter sighed. “I can’t do anything else. You’ve blown me out of the water. And now that you mention it, how does a former cheerleader know what the word ‘dissimilate’ means, let alone how to spell it?” He glared at her big awesome-sounding word that mocked him from the game board. He pouted.
“Well, if your memory wasn’t always on the fritz, you would have remembered I went to Syracuse, and my major was…” She made a triumphant noise, “French, with a minor in Linguistics. I became a word machine during finals, and I’ve retained all of it.” She flashed him a proud smile.
Peter huffed. “I would have pegged you more as a Communications major,” he teased, and she slapped him playfully on the arm.
“Watch it, buster. Don’t make me test those healing powers of yours with that big butcher knife on the counter,” Claire said.
“Idle threats,” he said, waving his hand listlessly. “You wouldn’t be able to get a handle on it before I pushed you against the wall with my telekinesis.”
Claire raised an eyebrow at him, and she put her hands on her hips. “Oh really? Cocky are you now?”
Peter lifted his chin. “Not cocky; just right.”
Claire shot him a fake smile. “Oh yeah?” Then, she jumped on him, sliding her fingers under his arms. He twisted under her grasp.
“Hey!” he yelled, trying to shift from underneath her. She roughly poked under his arms pits, and his body jerked from her touch.
“Ha! The Great Peter Petrelli is ticklish!” She straddled him, fighting off his protests. The sounds of her giggling filtered throughout the house and became contagious.
”Hey! Stop! Ha..ha! Claire!” Peter shouted, but Claire had a good grip on him. He begged for her to stop, but she wouldn’t give. He laughed hard and became so excited that he began to wheeze. “Stop… please, hehehe…”
“No! I’m going to tickle you either to death or until you remember us!” she said, laughing as Peter’s excitement began to die. Suddenly, he fell still under her, and her attempts began to fail.
“Claire…” Her name came out soft and slow. His hands rested on her hips as she straddled him. “I…”
Before he could finish, she quickly moved off him back to her spot on the floor. She looked away with shame.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Claire said. “I didn’t mean to force you. I was just…”
“Stop it,” he chided, and his tone surprised her. He met her gaze and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how to say this, but… I’m starting to remember.” It was sort of a lie, but the part that he was actually truthful about was that he was starting to accept this new world – and accept them.
“R – really?” she stuttered, searching his face for any doubt. He nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it with reassurance.
“Yeah, I… I still want to take things slow. I can regain my memories, but my feelings might need a little work. Will you… stay with me tonight?” Claire’s eyes widened, and Peter’s thoughts were steadfast.
Claire nodded slowly, and Peter stood up, helping her from the floor. He pulled her against him in a quiet embrace, and he closed his eyes as he took in her peaceful breathing.
“Let me just hold you tonight, nothing else,” Peter whispered. He heard Claire gasp against his chest. “I just want to get used to feeling you…” He paused. “Again.”
She walked with him to the bedroom, shutting the lights off behind them. When they settled together beneath the sheets, he felt her sigh comfortably against him. The beating of his heart began to slow, matching the rhythm hers.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this, and soon he let go of all his residual doubts about her. As Claire began to lull to sleep in his arms, he realized he’d never felt anything so right before.
Chapter Seven
Title: Petrelli Land
Rating: R/M
Chapters: 7/17
Characters/Pairings: Mainly Peter/Claire, implied Mohinder/Gabriel(Sylar), & others to be determined
Warnings/Spoilers: AU and Canon Paire, Season One Spoilers, turns AU from "How to Stop an Exploding Man", will not follow Season Two storyline.
Notes: This fic is inspired by the Marvel comic series, "House of M". The inspiration belongs to Marvel, and the Heroes characters belong to NBC and Tim Kring, but the story is entirely mine. Thank you to
karathephantom for the beta job!Edit: 8-12-2008
FFnet Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3735029/1/
Summary: After Peter encounters someone with a dangerous ability, his lack of control causes him to shift reality to the desire of others, where most are happy except one, who vows revenge. Paire.
Chapter Summary: Peter gets Mohinder's account on his 'lost' memories, and the doctor goes back to the lab and joins his assistant, Gabriel Gray. Peter finally comes to terms with his feelings about Claire in this new world.
[Previous Chapters]
Chapter Six
Dr. Mohinder Suresh was next in line of friends that would help him regain his memory. Peter, on one hand, would be very glad to see Mohinder, yet he felt anxious and was tempted to reveal his situation with Rena in order to gain the doctor's impartial advice. After some consideration, Peter had finally decided to keep Rena's secret to himself and let things remain as they were until he could find a better time to approach Mohinder about it.
He didn't know when that 'better time' would be, though. He had tossed and turned most of the early morning, trying to get some smidgen of sleep in spite of the thoughts of Claire that continued to plague him.
And when he woke up, he caught her humming and puttering around in the kitchen in a thin, short nightgown, which seemed to touch upon the very feelings he was trying to avoid. Against his better judgment, he rose from the couch and stared at her for several minutes, only to feel very perverted when she caught him and rewarded him with an innocent smile.
He was grateful when she told him Mohinder had called and had agreed for a late continental-type brunch in their suite. Peter hurriedly retreated to the bathroom, putting the shower on ice cold.
After his shower, he spent a majority of the late morning mulling over his thoughts, trying to focus on what Rena could have possibly meant when she warned him about the negative effects that would balance out the positive outcomes of this world. Of course, he could only think of the worst, and his thoughts played back to when Nathan had brushed off his propaganda as a status symbol, not intimidation. He feared the unseen dangers that would come with that attitude.
Thusly, he kept the rest of his thoughts at bay, urging him to accept his situation with Claire. If he gave in and realized her as his fiancée, he couldn’t bring himself to predict the complications with having to change her back as his niece if he had to return this world to its original state.
He grunted audibly, getting up from the bed and throwing a shirt on. Time had passed, and he heard the doorbell ring within their suite.
‘Here I go again,’ he thought anxiously, wondering how commonplace these visits from his friends were going to be.
--
When Mohinder sat down opposite from him at the kitchen table, Peter immediately picked up on the geneticist’s emotions, and he had never felt such warmth and balance from the man before. The doctor smiled at him, his eyes lighting with anticipation. He seemed readily excited to tell Peter these stories all over again.
“Peter, where shall we begin? It’s good to see you again, might I add. You’re lucky to catch me though. I was off to a flight to India to check on my cousin Rajya and how the family was holding up with their new elevated status.” Mohinder sipped his chai tea that Claire had set before him, and Peter watched him curiously.
“Elevated status?” Peter seemed confused. “Do you mean to tell me your family has become prominent in India since Nathan’s outing too?”
Mohinder laughed. “Well, it’s not like one incident could change the caste system. No, no, we’re more of a figurehead than anything. I’ve expanded my research in various parts of the world, and India is one of the strongholds. I’ve done significant good in the field, helping people come to terms with their powers and setting up delegation to support these people.” Peter felt impressed, which Mohinder picked up on. “As the idea of evolved humans becomes more widely accepted, people are reaching out for answers and looking for ways to harness and control their abilities.”
Peter harrumphed, unconvinced. “You really can’t tell me everything is unicorns and rainbows, doctor. I’m guessing that not all people are happy with this new evolutionary discovery.”
Mohinder pursed his lips, putting his mug of tea onto the table. The look in his eyes indicated Peter was right.
“Well, you could say that. But there’s a lot more progressives that outnumber people who can’t let go of the past. It’s been a trial, and I’m sure your brother likes to sugar coat the reality.”
“He basically brushes it off, Mohinder. He wouldn’t even tell me more about these resistance groups that are springing up everywhere. He wouldn’t let Claire tell me, but I know there’s something more than he’s letting on,” Peter said.
Mohinder sighed. “Well, the world isn’t perfect, even though most of it has appeared understanding of these special abilities. You’re right; some people have held onto the past and refused accept people with abilities.” Peter watched as Mohinder’s once peaceful expression scrunched in frustration. “It hasn’t been easy appealing to them, and there have been some skirmishes around the world, but mostly it’s the fear that we cannot change. People who are not special fear that they’ll be taken advantage of by someone, say, who can walk through walls or listen to their thoughts.
“That’s why Nathan, myself, and the Nakamura family, among others, have set up this network throughout the world to keep the peace and monitor those who would use their abilities for the wrong purposes. The majority of America may see Nathan as the hero he is, but it is taking longer for the whole world to adjust.” He paused, and he gave Peter a hopeful smile. “I’m confident that we can achieve a sense of semblance in due time, if we keep working hard to support those with abilities and not forget about those without. And now that your health is improving, I’m confident more than ever.”
“Me? Why me?” Peter asked, becoming confused again. He dreaded what Nathan may have told the world about him and his abilities.
“According all the data I’ve collected on every known Special out there, you’re the most powerful, Peter. You ability to mimic and store other abilities does not compare with anyone else’s. Your reputation of being a gentle, kind person also helps your case, and even while being too ill to be in the limelight, Nathan has used your name to dispel the fear in people about Specials.”
“I don’t get how someone as powerful as you say I am can dispel fear. That seems… audacious,” Peter commented. He couldn’t figure out Mohinder’s meaning.
“Well,” the geneticist spoke smiling, “in the past, America has prided itself on its powerful standing in the world. Having you on their side only boosters that hope.”
“Great, I’m a real, living Superman,” Peter replied sarcastically.
“Try not to be so cynical on the matter, Peter,” Mohinder reassured, and it sounded odd coming from him. Peter remembered at time when cynicism and doubt fueled a lot of the doctor’s past actions. “I have faith we can bring people into a new era of humanity.”
Peter could only reluctantly agree, yet he still had a bad taste in his mouth. Rena’s words of a balanced positive and negative world weighed heavily on his brain, washing out the optimism of Mohinder’s words.
--
Mohinder stepped into his New York office, laying his coat over a chair.
“Welcome back, doctor. I thought you’d be on your way to Delhi by now,” said a male voice behind him. Mohinder turned around and smiled.
“Oh, Gabriel. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. Yes, I had something come up for me. I’ll be staying here for a little while,” Mohinder explained.
Gabriel rose from his chair, setting his glasses aside. Mohinder caught a flash of unease on his face. “Oh? Is something wrong, doctor?”
Mohinder warmed genuinely from Gabriel’s concern. “Nothing serious. Peter Petrelli is having problems with his amnesia again. It’s the strangest thing.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “It’s almost as if his memory goes into hiccups, and he starts from square one at the time when he was rescued.”
Gabriel watched him in silence. Mohinder continued, “Well, in any case, I should probably stay until he regains his memory completely. Maybe I can figure out some way to stop it from happening again.”
Gabriel nodded, and Mohinder suddenly felt detached from his most trusted assistant. Gabriel looked tired, he thought, and he felt guilty for pulling him into his own personal problems. He didn’t want to overextend Gabriel’s abilities for his own friend. He’d find more valuable use for his skills with the more usual matters of special abilities.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to help Peter, and if you need assistance, I’m always here,” Gabriel said. Mohinder patted him on the shoulder and nodded.
“Thanks, Gabriel. I mean it.” He turned to his desk and detached his portable hard drive from his personal computer. “I just came to pick up my things. I’m going to do a little reading on Peter’s file before bed.”
“Don’t let your dedication get ahead of your need for sleep, Dr. Suresh,” Gabriel wagged a finger at him playfully. Mohinder gave him a nervous smile. Awkward silence slid between them again, and then Mohinder stopped as he was about to exit the door. He looked back at Gabriel.
“I understand if you’re busy, but ah…” Mohinder’s voice seemed to get lower. Gabriel's expression turned inquisitive yet patient with Mohinder’s usual hesitance. Mohinder felt like some stupid school boy, but nonetheless, he forced himself to make his thoughts known. “Are you coming over tonight?”
Gabriel’s wide smile put Mohinder at ease. “Just let me finish these reports on that boy from Costa Verde, and then I’ll come right over. I’ll stop by that late-night tea shop on the way.”
Mohinder nodded, and he could feel his pulse racing as he felt trapped by Gabriel’s gaze. He smiled lightly and turned through the doorway. “I’ll see you then,” he finally said, disappearing down the lab’s hallway.
--
There was nothing that Sylar delighted in more than playing Mohinder Suresh for a fool. He didn’t know how it happened, but one day he woke up in a world where his name was a shadowy villain beaten over by the heroic exploits of Hiro Nakamura and Nathan Petrelli. The name Gabriel Gray, however, was somehow untainted and unknown. It was as if the evidence that linked the two never existed, and he was given a new life.
However, he couldn’t be completely overjoyed with that knowledge. His rebirth had come with a price. He was living the life of a docile watchmaker turned research assistant. His powers of intuitive aptitude were used for tepid purposes of promoting the good of all, and not for the potential he intended.
And when Sylar woke up as docile Gabriel Gray, he realized that all of his powers that he’d rightfully gained were gone.
He was powerless despite his original gift, and all that was left was the chance to start his path over again.
In the grand scheme of things, the reality was more of a nuisance than a significant setback. He could take those powers all over again if he wanted too. Or he could choose the path of someone who was barely special, yet comfortable in their mode of life.
The second option was vile, he concluded, and did not fit his fate whatsoever.
He could deal with this glaring nuisance without problem, yet it was the nature by which he came to be in this position that angered him.
“Peter Petrelli,” he said to himself, thinking of Mohinder’s words. His memories of a distant, different world flooded to the surface. He smiled approvingly, yet still strongly held contempt for the man. “I see you’ve used the old woman’s powers.”
Sylar did not appreciate the picture that Peter Petrelli had painted him in. What good was it? He was a nobody and a lapdog to the whims of Dr. Suresh. For the life of him he could not see the purpose of altering reality for him to suit the needs of Dr. Suresh, and playing him like some doll only incensed him more.
Peter Petrelli had no right to do this to him. And by some strange beat of fate, he had come to this world with his memories intact and unaltered.
Sylar wouldn’t let Peter Petrelli or any of these ‘specials’ live comfortably in this joke of a world.
No one should have that power – except, maybe nobody but him.
He looked out the window, glaring at the billboard that sensationalized the heroic and kind Petrelli family. His maniacal smile turned into a frown of scorn.
What kind of world was this? He laughed and said, “What a waste.”
Sylar could have done much more with those powers, and it made him sick to be stuck here in a world created solely by the whimsical buffoonery of Peter Petrelli.
He knew one thing was for certain, though. This fairytale concocted by Saint Peter had to end, and he would be the one to do it – in time.
Sylar shut the blinds to the window and sat back in his chair. It was time to make plans.
--
“No fair!” Peter yelled, and Claire fell back on the floor in a fit of giggles.
“Peter, just admit it, LOL is not a word. You can’t use that in Scrabble!” Claire laughed again. Peter appeared defeated.
“How can I make a word with a bunch of Qs, Fs and Zs? Last time I checked, Fozq wasn’t a word either.”
Claire burst into laughter again. “So are you admitting defeat?”
Peter sighed. “I can’t do anything else. You’ve blown me out of the water. And now that you mention it, how does a former cheerleader know what the word ‘dissimilate’ means, let alone how to spell it?” He glared at her big awesome-sounding word that mocked him from the game board. He pouted.
“Well, if your memory wasn’t always on the fritz, you would have remembered I went to Syracuse, and my major was…” She made a triumphant noise, “French, with a minor in Linguistics. I became a word machine during finals, and I’ve retained all of it.” She flashed him a proud smile.
Peter huffed. “I would have pegged you more as a Communications major,” he teased, and she slapped him playfully on the arm.
“Watch it, buster. Don’t make me test those healing powers of yours with that big butcher knife on the counter,” Claire said.
“Idle threats,” he said, waving his hand listlessly. “You wouldn’t be able to get a handle on it before I pushed you against the wall with my telekinesis.”
Claire raised an eyebrow at him, and she put her hands on her hips. “Oh really? Cocky are you now?”
Peter lifted his chin. “Not cocky; just right.”
Claire shot him a fake smile. “Oh yeah?” Then, she jumped on him, sliding her fingers under his arms. He twisted under her grasp.
“Hey!” he yelled, trying to shift from underneath her. She roughly poked under his arms pits, and his body jerked from her touch.
“Ha! The Great Peter Petrelli is ticklish!” She straddled him, fighting off his protests. The sounds of her giggling filtered throughout the house and became contagious.
”Hey! Stop! Ha..ha! Claire!” Peter shouted, but Claire had a good grip on him. He begged for her to stop, but she wouldn’t give. He laughed hard and became so excited that he began to wheeze. “Stop… please, hehehe…”
“No! I’m going to tickle you either to death or until you remember us!” she said, laughing as Peter’s excitement began to die. Suddenly, he fell still under her, and her attempts began to fail.
“Claire…” Her name came out soft and slow. His hands rested on her hips as she straddled him. “I…”
Before he could finish, she quickly moved off him back to her spot on the floor. She looked away with shame.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Claire said. “I didn’t mean to force you. I was just…”
“Stop it,” he chided, and his tone surprised her. He met her gaze and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how to say this, but… I’m starting to remember.” It was sort of a lie, but the part that he was actually truthful about was that he was starting to accept this new world – and accept them.
“R – really?” she stuttered, searching his face for any doubt. He nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it with reassurance.
“Yeah, I… I still want to take things slow. I can regain my memories, but my feelings might need a little work. Will you… stay with me tonight?” Claire’s eyes widened, and Peter’s thoughts were steadfast.
Claire nodded slowly, and Peter stood up, helping her from the floor. He pulled her against him in a quiet embrace, and he closed his eyes as he took in her peaceful breathing.
“Let me just hold you tonight, nothing else,” Peter whispered. He heard Claire gasp against his chest. “I just want to get used to feeling you…” He paused. “Again.”
She walked with him to the bedroom, shutting the lights off behind them. When they settled together beneath the sheets, he felt her sigh comfortably against him. The beating of his heart began to slow, matching the rhythm hers.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this, and soon he let go of all his residual doubts about her. As Claire began to lull to sleep in his arms, he realized he’d never felt anything so right before.
Chapter Seven
