Title: Saviour
Author: Calie
Summary: From Claire's point of view while on the run with Peter. Takes place slightly in the future. This is just a friendship piece.
Notes: I'm very interested in how Claire and Peter feel about one another. They don't know each other but they still seem to be very important to one another. I just wanted to delve in a little deeper into that.
He was my home away from home. When my parents were gone, my brother was gone, and my friends were gone there was only Peter.
He was the only Patrelli she considered family. She didn't recognize her biological father or his family. Not even Peter and Nathan's mother who says she had went through great lengths to protect me. They all had ill intentions towards me except Peter. Sometimes I wondered how he'd turned out the way he had.
Peter is by no means perfect. From what he has revealed to me is that his life used to be a lot more easier. He had been a nurse. I had to choke down my laugh. I suppose there is nothing wrong with a male nurse, but Peter? Peter a nurse? I couldn't believe it. Not the man I knew. Nurses and doctors saved lives, cared for people. Peter didn't seem like the gentle care giver he once had been. He was guarded and had taken a fair share of lives. In the long run she supposed the goal was the same. His goal had always been to save people. When he had killed those people he had saved lives. More lives then he could ever have as a nurse.
I thought he would have been eaten up with guilt when he took lives, but he hadn't. When your family turns on you its hard for anything else to hurt. I vaguely know how it had felt. When I thought my father had only cared about what I was I hated him.
Now we run. His family looks for him and we're not to sure why. We don't know their real intentions are. They're not all that bad I suppose. Their intentions are good, it's there means that are bad. Their hearts aren't in the right place. Peter might be closed off but he wasn't cold. He still cared.
So we stopped the bomb. We stopped Sylar. But it will never be over. There will still be people that don't like us. There will still be Sylars and Lindermans. There will still be people that think they have the right to control our lives or wipe us out. That's what we fight for. Our lives.
Then there are people like my dad. Like Hiro and Ando. Like Matt. Like Mohinder. People that want to help. We're not going to stop. Not until we're dead or all the threats are gone.
Unfortunately I know death will come first, for all of us. I'm not sure what it will take to kill me or Peter, who has absorbed my powers. At least he has other powers to protect himself against others. I have no other strengths. If I had run into Sylar... There are always new people with powers. One day I'll come across the wrong person.
Peter protects me though. I don't think it's just because we're family. I knew from the day that I decided not to go to Paris that he needed me. I can't describe it. Maybe it's something that we both have in our blood that makes us alike. Who knows. I guess it doesn't really matter.
"You ready?"
There was a soft whisper behind me and Peter slid into the bench I was sitting on. "Of course I'm ready. I've been here for an hour. I was starting to worry someone would talk to me."
"People are praying." Peter whispered and looked around at the sparse amount of people filling the church. "They're talking to God. I don't think they want to talk to you."
I looked at him with a frown but he smirked at me. He could have at least flattered me. I expected him to urge me along but we sat there in silence. "Prayer sounds wonder in French." It was an observation I had made during me hour that I waited for him. In fact almost everything sounded wonderful in French, but prayer sounded heavenly.
"I suppose."
I noticed him glance behind him and I knew he wasn't paying attention to what I was saying. "Do we have something to worry about?" We had been followed for about two days now. Peter said he heard someones thoughts. He never told me what the person was thinking but suddenly that morning Peter burst into my hotel room and yanked me out of bed. Within twenty minutes we were gone and he put me in a cab and told the driver in French were to take me. I didn't know it was a church until the driver pulled up. It wasn't the first time Peter thrusted me into a public environment because we were in danger.
Instead of answering me he just looked at me with this blank look on his face and I knew that there was nothing to worry about. "You get anything good?"
Peter sighed and looked at me. "I'm not sure. Well I'm sure but I'm not sure what it is really."
"What do you mean?" For a moment I forgot about the dead body that was probably left behind and wondered what he meant.
"It's cold, like ice. But it doesn't freeze. It's just cold. Deathly cold."
There was a moment of confusion and it always relived me when I saw that look. It reminded me that he was cold or always so sure of himself. Sometimes even I could get scared when I remembered what Peter was, what he could do. Then there were those moments of vulnerability that reassured me I had nothing to worry about."Hm. Want to try it on me?" He looked scandalized for a moment then I smiled. "I had to pay you back for that prayer comment."
"You better watch out or I might." He nudged my arm and nodded to the back. "Let's get out of here."
I nodded and followed him out the church. Before we stepped outside I glanced behind me and surveyed the church. It really was beautiful. When we got outside I finally spoke in my normal voice. "Where are we going?"
"I'm not sure. We need to get out of here though."
I couldn't help but frown. I had kind of liked France. I couldn't speak French, but Peter could. He had picked up an ability along the way that he could memorize anything he read. Needles to say, Peter could speak a lot of languages now.
There was a cab waiting at the curb and Peter opened the door for me to get in. After the door closed and the cab took off Peter picked up a bag off the ground and handed it to me. I couldn't help but smile, I knew what it was. I pulled the tissue paper out and lifted up the glass ball. The Eiffel Tower sat inside of it with little bits of snow floating around it. Hiro once told us of the only time he say Sylar have emotion. Sylar had cared for his mother. Only his mother. He'd brought his mother snow globes too. The reasons were different. His mother loved them because she couldn't go to those place. I love them because they reminded me of the places we've been. Regardless of whether I liked being there or not. I guess the result was the same. Sylar brought them to his mother because she was all he loved. I know Peter cares for people and his family, but I have a feeling he probably cares for me the most. He told me once that I had saved him. I know he didn't mean physically. I suppose he had saved me too.
