A.N: This is a continuation of my fic "Life After" - although I wanted to put it seperately instead of having it as another chapter. Thanks go to obisgirl for betaing it for me! Even though I took a long time putting it up haha.

Warnings: Canon!Paire, which means incest, so if you don't like, don't read. Also, spoilers up to the end of Season 2, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, 'cause if I did I'd be sure to rectify the mistake Kring made by relating Paire.

--

It's been a month since that night and she feels like she's been given a second chance, like his presence is enough to resurrect her from the pain she's been cocooned in all these years.

She traces the contours of his face, as giddy as a child in a sweet store, and the infectious grin he gives her is enough to make her heart soar.

--

He fixes up the house and she happily falls into the 'little woman' role. She watches as he clears the dust away, delicately thumbing through family memories and returning them to their proper places on the mantelpiece.

Seeing the pictures of her parents causes her to remember happier times of the past; of cheerleading, pigtails and choosing her father's glasses rather than the melee of events that happened afterwards.

She decides then that there's room on the mantel to make more memories.

--

Talking about Nathan is a sore point for both of them. He passed away at the age of 91, an impressive feat for any man, let alone one who could fly.

A picture of the Petrelli brothers' stands proudly above the fireplace, the once mocking images of 'family', 'blood' and 'incest' fading away like all those other memories, along with the ashes of those who would remember them.

That Christmas, she kisses him softly underneath the mistletoe, laughing as he strings tinsel through her hair.

--

For reasons she cannot understand, he becomes distant, getting up in the middle of the night to sit in the darkened living room, the moonlight slicing his face in half.

One of those nights, she creeps downstairs to watch him, feeling like a spectre in her own home as he murmurs long dead names of people whom were once everything to him.

It is then that she realises he's never told her anything about his life before he found her.

--

She learns later that, before her, he had two children and a wife. In fact, he has descendants in New York; however many 'greats' tagged onto the front of grandchildren. For some reason, knowing this comes like a stab in the heart. She knows that she can never possess all of his affections and, although it's selfish, she feels betrayed.

Locks herself in their room and cries for days, while he slides down the other side, trying to coax her out.

--

It's their first and last argument. At the end of it, he leaves, looking at her with sad eyes and tells her that she just doesn't understand.

Maybe she doesn't, but when the door closes she picks up a new photo of them in the garden and smashes it against the wall, cursing him to hell for not understanding her.

Because she can't cope with the fact that he was happy without her, while she was stuck in an ageless body wishing for death.

Wishing that he would be her hero again.

--

A stranger shows up her at her door a few weeks later, introducing himself as Adam and asks if Peter is around.

Her curt reply that, no, he's not, he left weeks ago, doesn't seem to stun him, and he breaks out into a toothy grin and invites himself inside.

His hand catches against the doorframe and she watches, fascinated, as the skin knits itself back together.

--

When she asks what he's here for he simply answers that he knows how it feels to spend eternity alone, as he's dealt with it for over 600 years.

A glimmer of hope rises in her chest as she starts to question him endlessly about his travels, but forgets to question how he even knows that she exists.

--

Later, as she leads Adam to the bedroom, she swears that she glimpses his face in the mirror, dark, disapproving eyes boring into her.

But blond hair and blue eyes soon make that face disappear, and, although she hasn't healed fully, it helps.

--

Adam can't heal her wounds, she soon finds out. He's flighty, spending several days with her before leaving again, sometimes for days, maybe weeks at a time. .

She finds herself crying at night once more, immersed in an ache that never leaves, and she wonders if she even has a heart left.

It's like a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit, and she begins to hate herself for destroying the only good thing that she had left in her life.

--

And then, a miracle happens. He arrives, standing in the doorway (and she can't understand how she's ever forgotten dark hair and a crooked grin), and Adam smirks and asks what took him so long.

She's ready to fling herself into his arms but the look in his eyes stops her, the same look she visualised in the mirror and she's convinced he hates her – hates her for turning to Adam while he could only turn to ghosts.

When the two men start fighting, she realises there are things Adam didn't tell her either.

Like how he's trying to destroy the world.

--

Adam pulls out a gun and she knows exactly what he's going to do, he's had hundreds of years to practise getting the bullet just so.

So she follows her instincts and hopes she can be his hero for once.

Steps out just as he pulls the trigger.

--

An eternity later, she opens her eyes and starts coughing, life pulsating back through her veins. The ceiling stares ominously back at her, and she wonders for a moment that, despite it all, she really died.

Then his face appears over her, asking if she's alright. Seeing him again makes her break down, as he cradles her in his arms like a child, soothing her with hushed whispers.

--

He tells her afterwards that Adam ran and she shudders in revulsion at what she almost became.

Seeks solace within his touch once more and feels like she's atoned for some terrible sin.

--

Years later, she walks into the garden and for a moment, a spirit stands in front of her, telling her how she didn't grow inside her mother, she grew inside their hearts.

She smiles as the memory washes over her, picking up a small, dark-haired toddler and taking him inside.

By the fireplace, new pictures have found a home amongst generations of others, and she lets Noah's fingers clumsily trace the images of his grandparents, uncles, would-be-godparents.

Her husband places a tender kiss on both their foreheads and she sighs happily.

The world may always be in danger but she knows that her world will last for eternity.