Set: After Brave New World.

Characters (in order of "screen time"): Peter*, Hesam, Emma, Angela, Claire, Zach, Sylar, Noah.

*although he does spend a good deal of this fic unconscious. Or wishing he was.

Warning: I'm completely aware that this one is really nothing but a "Get Peter" fic under the poor pretext of being (minorly) speculative for Volume Six, but I thought I'd just treat myself to something I've been wanting to write for quite a while now.

More Warnings: (Eventually) very bad language, (eventually) serious injuries to characters, a lot of blood, sweat, puke, and tears.

There. You have been warned. Enjoy! Reviews very much appreciated! ^^

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TRAUMA

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1

Aftermath

"My name is Claire Bennet, and that was attempt number… I guess I've kind of lost count."

Peter switched off the TV, but the queasy feeling in his gut remained. The early morning news were all showing the footage over and over, of the girl who had fallen sixty feet from a Ferris wheel and pulled her dislocated shoulder back into place, all in front of the cameras. In the chaos following the events at the Carnival, and Claire's revelation, he hadn't been able to get hold of her before her father had succeeded in whisking her away from the media. Claire's fall wasn't the only thing that was keeping the press busy. In the news report he'd just been watching, there had been talk of other strange things happening at the Carnival – people seemingly flying (that would have been him), people going to see the show without really remembering why they had done so (that would have been Emma), and, of course, Samuel Sullivan evidently moving the ground with the power of his mind.

A part of Peter still felt like a coward for not being there with Claire, but even if he had wanted to make his own abilities public there and then – which he didn't – what would he have done? Open up the ground? Great idea. Borrow Claire's ability and climbing up that Ferris wheel, too? Yeah, right.

He was hardly surprised when his phone rang, and he saw his mother's number on the display, for the second time since last night.

"Hi, Mom. Anything new?"

"Noah just called. He and Claire will be on their way to California by mid-morning."

Peter sighed. "I bet she loves that."

"What she loves or doesn't love isn't an issue. What she did last night was reckless and foolish in the extreme. She needs to be protected, not least of all from herself."

"The two of you still can't see you can't protect someone who doesn't want to be protected, right?"

There was a slight pause, and to Peter's surprise, Angela let the matter go. "Are you working today?" she asked instead.

"No, Saturday is my other day off."

He half-waited for her to remark that, so far, she wouldn't have noticed, but she again surprised him by saying, "Be careful, OK?"

"Careful with what? Jumping off Ferris wheels?"

"With everything."

He realised how serious she was, and resisted replying with another quip. "I promise, Mom. Take care."

"I am. You take care."

As he had hung up the phone, Peter sat drumming his knee for a moment before getting up abruptly, put on his coat, and went out.


"You did tell your Dad you're with me, right?"

Claire leant across the railing of the Manhattan Bridge and looked down into the brownish water of the East River. She wore a coat with the collar turned up against the cold*, along with a woollen cap, both of which had the nice side effect of making her less noticeable to any of the pedestrians on the bridge who had been reading newspapers or watched TV since the night before. It was a good thing that the cold meant there were relatively few pedestrians around.

"Yeah, and I had to promise to be back at eleven AM." Claire grimaced, then she turned and gave Peter a glance. "You know, I'm still trying to decide whether you're going to take me to task or not."

"I'm still trying to decide that, too."

She waited.

"But after what I did at Nathan's wake, I feel I kind of lost the right to."

"So I guess we're even."

Peter blew on his hands to warm them. "Except I didn't expose us on purpose."

Claire turned with a sigh and propped up her elbows on the railing behind her, her back to the river. "Well, here we are. You're taking me to task as well."

"We have absolutely no idea where this'll lead, Claire. I've seen what can happen. I was kind of expecting a me from the future to show up and try to shoot you, but he probably knew that wasn't going to work. Or will know. Whatever."

"Or maybe it'll just work out this time. We know the future isn't set in stone, right? When Nathan was about to expose all of us publicly, you were fine with that."

"Because I didn't have a clue what was going to happen."

"No, because deep down, you were sick of hiding your powers, sick of pretending to be normal. Just like me."

Peter watched the dirty water swirl below. "I guess I was."

Claire turned again, leaning over the railing, looking at him. "What about now?"

He sighed. "That was a long time ago."

Claire watched his profile for a while. "You know what you told me, about helping people in your job, using powers and having to hide them? Wouldn't it be great to be doing it right out in the open?"

Peter gave her a weak smile. "Even if it was – moving earth around isn't going to help people who are having a heart attack."

"Maybe if you took my ability again?" she said.

He shook his head. "My blood doesn't heal people, Claire. Only yours and Adam's worked like that." He cast her a sidelong glance. "But hey, it's really nice to know you're willing to let me copy your power in order to help other people, but not when I'm haemorrhaging."

She caught his slight smile, and returned it. Then she cast a look at her watch. "I need to go. Take care, right? Leave homicidal maniacs to the police."

"Yeah. Seems like years since the last one." He saw her frown and considered telling her about what had happened when he had entered Sylar's nightmare, but that was another can of worms he was not going to open now, with so little time to explain properly. If that was even possible. "Can I take you somewhere?"

"No, our hotel is just a quarter hour from here. Dad has rented a car." Claire grimaced.

"You're not taking a flight back?"

"No. Too exposed." She made another face. "And it's hardly 'back.' Dad's currently trying to call in favours to find a place to live. Or to hide me."

Peter chuckled. "I know a nice, very discreet motel in Costa Verde. Though I think your father wasn't exactly happy with the accommodations."

"I'll remind him if we don't find anything else." She pushed herself away from the railing, and hugged him. "It was good to see you. I'll see you around, OK? Do nothing I wouldn't do."

He gave another chuckle as he returned the hug. "I very probably won't."

He watched her leave, pulling down her cap against the cold wind, walking back towards Brooklyn. When he couldn't see her anymore, he turned, and walked back in the opposite direction.

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*Yes, in my fics, it is actually winter!

Next chapter(s): Bring on the paramedfic! Hesam comes very close to doing the math, until a BS (=bullshit) call turns into something much, much worse and other things become more important.