A/N: Thanks to Jayne for being my BETA! You are awesome. Please don't leave me rude comment. I made Peter and Claire not related; however, this adds to the story line—not just because I wanted to get them together.
If you guys want to read this story with music go here Just without the spaces. Promise it's better-- http:// ladybozi. livejournal. com/ 28802. html#cutid1
His warm breath broke the crisp air that lingered in the old, overpopulated graveyard.
Bloodshot eyes burned as he stood before her grave. Everything around him seemed to stand still yet sway all in one motion. The pitiless night sky blanketed the hallow grounds, leaving only his silhouette visible against the moonshine.
He took a gentle step forward and placed a single crimson rose on her once fresh grave mound. Uneasiness took him as he stepped back on the soft ground, chills crawling up his spine. The frosty wind swept him up, bitterly unwelcoming him as he took deep breaths of it in. The haunting silence didn't help steady his beating heart as it jumped out of his skin and unknowingly dripped onto the grave before him.
He came to serenade her, to pour his heart out for another more year. Constantly blaming himself for her death, the overpowering sight of her grave always managing to drive him back here and bring his guilt rearing its ugly head once again.
Just like every other year on this day, he came to try to hide his blame along with her body, but he was always left more powerfully haunted then before.
"I understand I have no right to be here," he paused to take a heavy gasp into his shriveled wind pipe.
"But I came to pay my respect," he atoned as if explaining his actions to the wind itself, "I swear if I could make a deal with God to trade places with you I would." It was the same thing he said to her every year. The same exact words; however, over time the passion behind his reason was swept away with the same wind that surrounded him.
The howling current of air didn't subside, instead it continued to pound upon his chest, thrashing and pushing him away. Everyday he reminded himself that if he could turn back time he would, and he would go back on this same exact day, fifteen long years ago and save the cheerleader. It wasn't as if he hadn't already attempted to undo the past; in fact, he tried to fix it many times, but nothing was altered.
She was still dead and he was still a walking tragedy.
"Goodbye Claire," he whispered in one final husky farewell. He wouldn't return the next year; his heart wouldn't abide to return.
Peter entered his underground apartment and barricaded himself with the heavy, steel door behind him. He had to shut the world out.
"I can not believe that you beat me again!" Hiro exclaimed, swiftly standing up, leaving an imprint of his body in the old, slightly torn couch.
"It's not my fault if you can't comprehend the vast array of combo moves that come equipped with your character," Micah teased as he once again began recklessly push buttons on his game controller.
It didn't take long for him to severely beat Hiro's character. Within a matter of seconds the screen flashed "Game Over."
"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Hiro let out a frustrated shriek accompanied by a quick tirade in Japanese.
Peter mused as Micah playfully laughed at the angered Japanese man. They were so content in their small secluded apartment. While the world was slowly falling apart outside, they appeared to be clueless. However, no matter how merry they may have seemed at the moment, they very well knew the dangers that lay just outside of their door. In actuality, Peter was the only one who drastically changed over the years. They had all truly become the best of friends; however, Peter kept to himself as much as he could, making sure to not get too attached. He loved them both like a brother would, that was no question, but you would never find him playing video games along with them. Seclusion was the only word he knew the perfect definition of. He was barricaded, shut off from the world by his own choice.
"What's going on here?" Peter interrupted in a soft voice that startlingly silenced their quarrel. Micah dropped his controller by Hiro's and like magic the game and television shut off due to lack of his electric contact. Speaking to machines included being able to turn them on and off at will, perfect way to keep Hiro from messing up his high score. No electricity was a good thing for Micah at times.
"Peter, you are back..." Hiro murmured dreamily. Peter could have sworn he saw Hiro's eyes glisten when he saw him.
They couldn't take their eyes away from him, but who could blame them; he had been gone for quite a while now.
"Guys," Peter placed his black coat on a rusty hanger and waited for responses from his speechless friends.
Micah was the first to break away from his amazement, "PETER!" he rushed out and hugged his friend, tightly. Micha's height added to the pressure he was applying to the hug; he was a foot taller then Peter and peter had to steady himself against the sheer force of it.
"Hey, what's wrong with you two?" Peter asked, chuckling at their odd welcome home.
Hiro smiled sweetly and made his way to Peter, who was still constricted by Micah's fierce embrace. "Where have you been?" Hiro asked softly as he gave him a quick welcome-back hug.
Peter didn't answer as he walked over to the kitchen sink and let the cold water rush over his dry, frostbitten hands. His two friends kept quiet, uncomplainingly awaiting justification to their friend's lengthy absence.
Peter turned away from the stained kitchen sink, finally prepared to face the two men; but failing to do so properly. "What do you mean; didn't Molly tell you?" His answer was short, outwardly ordinary and nonchalant but well calculated. He was good at it; masking his feelings to the point where you would think he didn't care. It was gift he developed over time, which was so far from twenty year old Peter.
Strangely, when he was younger he would have never held any of his current feelings or concerns back. No, when he was twenty he would have been atop a roof singing to the world how he felt and why he felt it. However, time changes and with the years evolving into chaos, Peter had evolved with them. He wasn't the same blurry eyed dreamer that he used to be.
Micah and Hiro exchanged looks of slight objection before redirecting their eyes back on to Peter. "Peter, you've been gone for two months," Hiro couldn't help but quibble, his Japanese accent seeping through, even after all these years.
"Yeah, that..." Peter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "I had to go clear my head for a while guys, I'm sorry."
Micah and Hiro stood wordlessly while Peter walked away to his room.
As soon as he opened the door the blackness of the once abandoned space surrounded him. It was pitch black within his small box-like room; with only a bed, small closet and two nightstands to keep him company. The walls were unkempt, like the inside of a sunken ship he thought to himself, as well as a dark shade of grey. This didn't really seem to add much personality to the room.
Peter lay down on his warn out, ruined mattress; letting it hug him in the roughest way possible, because after all, he didn't deserve any better. He was semi-afraid to close his eyes knowing it would permit his nightmares to surprise attack him. However, his exhaustion got the better of him and so his eyelids gave up on the battle.
He woke up, hours later, even more worn-out then before. A small draft from the ventilation made his skin acknowledge where he was. Home; he had forgotten that he had come back. He attempted to recall what he was dreaming just minutes before. No images crossed his mind, just an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. In fact, he stopped dreaming ten years ago. Any dreams that he could remember, she was in, haunting him and hunting him like a wounded animal. It wasn't always like that; she used to be a friend to him.
His dream's started out soft, caressing his imagination and heart. In fact, at one point they used to be so vivid and real that he was convinced that she would be asleep next to him during the night. Peter would awaken with a jolt, caked in sweat just from the feeling it left him. Unfortunately Simone was convinced too and after putting up with his dream lover for two whole years, she left. It was a simple goodbye and he didn't blame her. Losing Isaac made her depressed and at times hopeless. Of course his death came after he almost killed her and if it wasn't for Peter stopping the bullet with his mind she wouldn't have had a chance to say goodbye to him at all. It was close, one second slower and it would have pierced her heart. A day later Sylar killed Isaac and Simone found comfort in Peter. At the time Peter welcomed it, it didn't matter why she chose to find comfort in him, all it mattered was that she did. So in a sense Simone ran to Peter like an injured animal and when Peter started having dreams, she left.
Jessica Sanders, Micah's mother, filled her shoes a little bit after that. However, sleeping with Jessica didn't feel the same as it did with Simone. He figured Jessica, a mother, in a weird way was trying to nurture and protect him. There was never more then sex involved. At least not on his part but he wasn't sure about her point of view since she died before he could ask her. Just because she had super strength didn't mean that getting sick wouldn't affect her. She was human after all and with the death of her husband, her son was all alone. That's how Peter met Micah.
He slowly ran his fingers from side to side in his oily, jet-black hair, neatly slicking it back. His body felt heavier than usual as Peter sat up on his soaked mattress. Allowing his eyes to adjust a little bit to the night he stared into the vast emptiness of his room. Years ago he came across a man who could see in the dark; his eyes acting like night vision goggles. Soon everything in the room was lit up in a bright green radiance, permitting him to see the smallest of places with ease. It wasn't as creepy as one would think; Peter in fact found consolation in knowing he was his own witness to his loneliness. He called it his hiding place, which sounded foolishly juvenile considering he was 41 years-old. He was beginning to get drained of life; he was weak now. His optimistic persona was misplaced somewhere during the fifteen years he had spent with his "power".
His fingers sympathetically traced the coarse scar that flawed his right cheek.
'X marks the spot.'
He remembered Sylar's cruel expression as he uttered the words that led to one neat motion with his finger leaving Peter scarred.
It was darkness that hugged him in times like these, times when Peter began to analyze what should have been done, what could have been done, and what he did. He stopped anticipating life in his room and it was eerily comforting.
Hours later Peter emerged from his bedroom even drowsier then when he went in. He heard the rain lightly tapping against the covered windows.
"Good morning Peter." Micah happily greeted him from across the room. Micah in many ways upheld the threatening image of his father; however, unlike his father Micah managed to be chipper at most times in the day. Peter liked that most about him. Micah's child-like innocence was the only thing keeping Peter from turning into a bitter old man.
Peter smiled and nodded, showing his acknowledgment of the young man. Micah was used to the opaque cold shoulder, and fully understood that Peter didn't mean anything by it. It was just the way Peter was these days; one could say he was slightly self absorbed. The last couple of years really made him closed off, he would risk his life for his friends and strangers but he wouldn't take a crack at a conversation for weeks.
The brass cups clanked against each other as Peter ravaged through the sink full of dirty dishes. His nerves knew a thick, black coffee was welcomed after a night full of panic and demons.
"By the way Peter, I fixed it." Micah's voice fought against the clanking of the dishes. Peter put the cup he was holding gently down on the rusted surface and turned to let Micah elaborate on the statement.
"What?"
Micah looked up from what he was doing and smiled, "Yeah, I finished it a couple of days ago."
Peter, slightly ticked off, walked towards him, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Micah's eyebrows scrunched up, "How do you propose I could have done that exactly?"
Peter's irritation was always eminent. He slicked his hair back with a run of his fingers and slid into a sofa next to the young genius, "I don't know Micah your girlfriend could have helped you out."
"Ok, well next time I'll pull out the Bat Signal, maybe you can see that from god knows where you are next."
Peter didn't respond to the young man's comment, only opening his mouth to say, "Show me."
Micah could barely contain his excitement as he brought out two seemingly ordinary silver watches.
He quickly handed them to Peter. Peter flipped them over, looked at them from the side but nothing seemed to make him think that Micah had done anything extra to them. In fact, they looked like they were made in the 1980's and never touched up after.
"Ok, so 'this' is what you managed to finish while I was away?" Peter couldn't help but be cynical about the pieces of old technology he held in his palms.
Micah smirked, "Here let's put it on." He got one of the watches from Peter and proceeded to examine the skeptical mans wrists.
"I just have to find the right spot." He found it, "Here we go, now don't scream."
Even with Micah's split second warning, Peter was taken by surprise. The watch Micah laid down on his bare skin bit him, hard. Peters lip quivered, letting only a painful but silent 'ouch' slip out.
Micah chuckled and nervously backed away from Peter's hands, "Sorry."
Peter couldn't help but sarcastically smile as his heartbeat pulsated underneath the cold metal plate of the watch, "Yeah, I'm sure you are."
Peter and Micah both jumped, their necks snapping towards the loud slam of their apartment door. Molly darted in; no knock, just a loud bang of the heavy door destroying the frame was left in her destructive path.
She ran over to the two men, wide eyed and out of breath. The glee of excitement from her eyes showed them there was no need for alarm, just a lot of questions she was dying to ask. Micah and Peter adjusted themselves in their chairs again, attempting to recollect their nerves from the loud intrusion.
"Ok, I am so totally here!" Molly bounced onto the sofa adjacent to Peter and focused her attention on him.
Peter's eyes shifted back and forth in confusion, "I'm sorry Molly, but what exactly are you here for?"
Molly sat up dumfounded, "Wait this is what you were talking about when you said Peter's body might rip in half right?"
"Excuse me?" Peter panicked and with one impulse started ripping off his watch.
"No, no, no." Micah jumped to his feet, prying Peter's fingers off of the watch.
The young genius shot Molly a warning look and then flashed a reassuring smile to Peter, "I assure you Peter, there is no need for alarm and this is nothing dangerous. You know that Molly likes to make a big deal out of everything."
Peter sat back down in his previous position. "Molly, if you knew about this," Peter pointed to the shabby watch, "Then why didn't you just search for me?"
"I know how you are Pete, we all know how you need your space." Molly atoned, she felt guilty for stalling his mission. "I'm sorry,"
Peter flashed her a sweet crooked smile and patted her on the hand gently.
Micah sighed with relief, "Now that we are one big happy family again lets start shall we."
After two hours of Micah pumping Peters head full of explanations about the watch and how it worked, Peter finally had to ask the question. "So how much time do I exactly have with this thing?"
Micah winced and shrugged, "Come on man, that's not important, the important thing is that I fixed it."
"Micah," Peter growled softly, frustration always reared its ugly head with him, "give it to me straight."
Micah forfeited, "Ok look, in reality we don't know. Ideally it would be great to go back for as long as you want. However, Peter, after so many years of you and Hiro jumping back and forth into time it's hard to say how long your body will be able to handle it. It's been years since we had to jump this far back, for all we know the space time continuum has begun to get worn out." Micah shook his head in disappointment, "However, being that I am a genius, these watches should be able to sustain your body molecules long enough."
Peter sighed, "Come on Micah can't get an approximation at least!?"
"The max time I would say is a week."
Peter sat silent for a while.
"Fine, a week is fine."
Micah lightened up, "Oh hold on, I didn't tell you about the best thing yet." He motioned Peter towards the computer.
They walked towards Micah's old, spruced up 2007 computer, "Check it out." He typed in a few codes and popped up multiple screens, "I can monitor the exact time you spend there, and how your body is handling the time jump. It's kind of like a heart monitor, it follows you're heart beat."
Two hours later, Peter and Hiro stood side by side, both of their eyes shut tightly.
Molly and Micah monitored from the background, the hairs on their necks standing up from the heat and cold circulating the room, as well as from pure excitement and the unknown. It was always an odd mood when Peter and Hiro were Time Bending.
"If you guys see Papa Mohinder can you tell him I said Hi," Molly pleasantly requested.
In a split second, before she could blink or ever get a response, they were gone.
Micah quickly sat by his computer, his touch turned it on and a chart showed up on the screen. A timer in the right corner, his eyes quickly read the readings. "Oh no!"
Molly panicked, "What do you mean Oh no?"
"They didn't arrive at the right time period." Micah was even more panicked then Molly.
"What? What the hell do you mean not the right time?"
