A/N: Today I'm out of medication. On the plus side, there's nothing impeding my mental processes, making writing possible. On the not-so-plus side, there's nothing impeding my pain, making for much distraction. Well, while I have no choice, I might as well make the most of it.
Reunion
The metal gates were blindingly bright, reflecting the sunlight as they were dragged open. Teenagers streamed from the doors seconds after the piercing ringing of the bell ended. They were dressed in t-shirts and shorts, appropriate to the summer heat. Many glanced suspiciously at—and deliberately avoided stepping too close to—the man standing in the middle of the main entrance, for his black clothes and heavy coat were obviously out of place. He frowned as his eyes roamed the crowd. The students weren't the only ones who'd noticed him; two uniformed security men approached him cautiously.
"Sir, what is your business here?" the larger guard asked, one hand on the baton at his belt.
"I'm waiting for someone," the man answered quietly, never ceasing his search, not even to assess the security guard's threat.
"Well, how about you show us what's under that coat and some identification," the guard said reasonably, stepping closer.
The man didn't appear to hear him, as the man stopped searching, his eyes fixed upon one particular face. His expression went from intimidating to blissful as his smile grew.
"Claire," he whispered breathlessly as she approached, chatting to a boy. She hadn't seen him yet. Then she noticed the jostling crowd moving off course and she looked up to the disturbance with mild curiosity. Her eyes met his and she stopped walking in shock.
"Peter!" she shouted after a second, and she ran towards him.
"Claire!" he said, opening his arms and catching her in a hug, lifting her off the ground. His heart swelled and he closed his eyes. There was no more searching to be done; he'd found her. Claire was chattering away in his ear, mingled with sobs. Her words mostly consisted of how happy she was to see him, and he didn't say anything. He felt his actions spoke for themselves as he held her in a tight embrace. Eventually, he put her down and looked at her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She was also crying.
"Hey, stop crying," he said. "I'm here, now. I'm back." He wiped her tears away, smiling gently.
"I thought you were dead!" she said, grinning.
"I thought I was dead," he admitted, hugging her again and whispering in her ear, "You saved me, Claire."
"What did I do?" she asked, confused, her voice muffled by his coat.
"You gave me the power to save myself," Peter said, pulling away again. He was torn by the conflicting desires to stare at her and, simultaneously, hold her close and never let go.
"You healed," she realised, looking down. She frowned at him and he cocked an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. "I can't feel anymore," she said sadly.
"Claire, you smiled when you saw me. Clearly, you felt something," he reminded her, leading her to a nearby bench and sitting with her, the security guards completely forgotten. To be fair, the guards had disregarded him as a threat, reckoning that such a kind face couldn't be up to no-good.
"Well, yeah. I suppose you're right." She smiled again.
A/N: Dunno where to end it, but that'll do…