Author's Note: I love Peter, so this oneshot is a little, uh, fangirl-y. Oh, well!
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Heroes. If only . . . if only!
Lost in Translation
He always knew what he wanted to be. A hero. His longing to be someone, to do great, good things could be voiced in this single word. To himself. It wasn't something he could tell anyone else. He thought he found the way to be one when he became a nurse. His dad might have been disappointed, but Peter didn't care. He was helping people, the way he had always wanted. And he thought that this was what he was meant to do. That this was how he could be a hero.
But he was wrong. He got powers, and everything changed. It all got confusing, and he wasn't so sure of what he was anymore. But through it all he knew he needed to save the world. No matter what he had to go through or what he had to give up, he always had to do the right thing. It's the way he was made. It's who he is.
He thought he finally found who he was supposed to be when he got his powers. He thought he finally could be a hero. He thought he knew what he was. But the longer he had his powers, the more lost he felt. A person can't travel frequently through time and space as easily as blinking without it having some effect. Because when every time can be right now, the true present, the real right here and now can get lost in the shuffle. When you've traveled in the past and the future, it makes it hard to remember your own present. And he isn't sure where he belongs anymore.
There's also that little question of immortality. Will he live forever? The question gnaws at him when he wakes in the night. The question that he shoves to the back of his mind during the light of day comes and stares him in the face during those stark night hours. He thinks of all the people he's lost and all the people he's going to lose. He'll have to watch all of them die. And he's not sure if he can take it. He's been through so much. He's endured his own pain. But their pain would hurt him far, far more deeply than merely his own.
Peter may not be sure of who he is. He may not know if his life includes endless and possibly empty tomorrows. But everyone who comes into contact with him, everyone whose life he touches, knows who he is. No one is passive towards him. They may not always understand why he does what he does, why he always has to clean up other people's messes, why he can't help but do the right thing even when it hurts. They may hate him or love him or try to stop him or even try to kill him. But they all remember him. He saved the cheerleader, and saved the world. Then he saved it again. And he'll keep on saving it. Because that's the kind of person he is. Everyone who knows him reads it in his actions and his words and his character. He's the voice of reason in the madness, the gutsy conscience that keeps insisting on the right way of doing things.
It's because Peter is a hero.