Title: Fulguration
Author: hauntedd
E-Mail: Disclaimer: Not mine!
Rating: T
Summary: Peter, Claire, Nathan, Bennet and Angela react to the bomb.
AN: It's kind of like 5 things that never happened to, but instead it's 5 people react to...

One second.

That's how long it took for him to switch from victorious David to genocidal Goliath. He finally was on top – beating, defeating Sylar with newfound strength that had to have come from the blonde, and then it started.

Like a switch flicking on his hands began to glow, energy coursing through his veins as his skin adopted an orange hue – taunting him as Sylar's sinister laughter boomed overhead.

It was happening – and the only one who could stop it was on her way out of town. Bennett talked a big game, promised that he was a good shot, but one thrust from Sylar and he was out of commission. It was like his mother said – no one could stop the bomb.

He was destined to be the villain of the piece.

-----

Guns don't kill people – people kill people – it was one of those stupid things Zach said in an attempt to be witty. She'd never thought much of it, she was like wonder woman, or superman – nothing could stop her. The impact of bullets piercing flesh, blood and gore were lost on her – she'd died and lived too many times to dwell on what it all meant.

But Peter had asked, placed that dead weight in her small hands and said it was up to her to save the world.

Save the cheerleader, save the world – it was a sick joke that only grew more amusing in its repetitions. And she couldn't help but wonder, shaking, scared, as she tried to pull the trigger what kind of cheer would be appropriate?

Hey, hey, you're gonna die today!

And he was going to die. Bullets and pistols, triggers and safeties – they suddenly regained their meaning.

Guns wouldn't kill Peter, Claire would kill Peter.

-----

"Tell me there's another way!" Claire was begging, pleading as she waved the pistol in her hand, attempting to pull the trigger, but failing. She was young, too young, for this – and yet she'd struck a chord with him earlier.

She was determined, she was optimistic, she was a leader. She was fighting while he was giving in – and the second she jumped from that window, her blonde hair billowing upwards as she was spiraling to the earth – like a Munch painting, grotesque and beautiful, something in him snapped.

He could lead, or he could follow.

So he touched the earth, determined and frightened of the inevitable, willing Claire to lower her gun as he faced Peter. Angry yellows and oranges ate at his flesh as the clock wound down to Armageddon. There was so much he wanted to say, to Claire, to Peter, but there wasn't time – Peter was going to explode, so he gripped his brother's waist and prayed that somehow, it would all work out in the end.

For the first time, he didn't have a plan, an outline, and he was uncertain of what was to come. But, he managed to hear his daughter whisper "Dad," and it was enough.

-----

It was over. Peter went radioactive and his daughter was his again. There was no explosion, no grand pronouncement that this chapter in his life had come to a conclusion, but he had Claire – and that was all that mattered.

Holding her in his arms, something was different – and it wasn't just the smell of overpriced shampoo. She'd aged, evolved, in their time apart and she wasn't his Claire-Bear anymore.

She was a Petrelli – and not just because of her genetics. Claire was strong, determined to do whatever necessary to save the world – she was a hero and he was just a man. But it didn't mean he wasn't going to fight like hell to keep her.

So asked her, directed her back to the idea that they needed to go home, together. Back to Odessa, back to normalcy, away from exploding men and fathers who were Congressmen.

She'd responded to him, defining home as a place, charred and destroyed. And he found himself lying through his teeth – talking about how home was wherever their family was together.

Except, he omitted one glaring truth – Claire was home, and he was out of place.

-------

She spent her life guided by definites; it was her blessing, and her curse. Every moment plotted out in a sequence, foretold by the dreams that plagued her. Fire, burning, violent reds and oranges engulfing a city, her city – it had all been a blur at first, much like her other visions, growing clearer after time.

There was going to be a fire – and her son, Peter, was going to destroy New York.

It was what brought her to Linderman, so determined, full of purpose. She knew that he was evil, but he proposed an answer, a chance to do good in the face of tragedy. A Congressman, Nathan, a hope, a solution, a President.

So she'd helped set the course that would lead her country forward – after the inevitable. It was her cross to bear, birthing destruction and salvation, Cain and Able.

But something had gone wrong – a wrinkle in time, and suddenly nothing was what it was supposed to be anymore.

Her sons were gone – glittering like shooting stars in the night sky and New York was still standing tall as the moon glared down at her, mocking the choices she'd made for what, she believed was the greater good.

All that was left was her granddaughter, Claire, who was closer to her than the grandsons she'd known for years. Claire, who was too young, too naïve, to grasp all of what she'd done – and yet, she'd been the one who changed fate, lead America out of the tragedy.

All because she'd dared to take the leap, dared to hope – Claire was the hero of the story.

It was why she couldn't turn her away, when she showed up tearful and broken on her doorstep. Bennet, who was supposed to protect Claire's young heart, was nowhere to be found. So she'd done what any good grandmother would do, lead her inside, take her coat and offer cocoa, which neither of them drank.

Claire told her story from beginning to end, short on details, but not emotion, and it did little to sooth the ache that ate at her heart. But at least there were two, when there should have only been one – and that was enough, for now.

Embracing the young girl, she finally allowed herself to cry, to mourn the loss of her sons. But, she had Claire when she shouldn't have, as well as the knowledge that the future wasn't so inevitable after all.