Title- Dawn
Author- Victoria
Rating- T (might go higher, probably won't)
Summary- What if the Bishops hadn't found Peter when he took Nathan to the hospital after Kirby Plaza? What if he was found by a certain blonde file clerk who felt compelled to help the terrified stranger? AU Pemma, S2.

A/N- Everybody, add Raising Lazarus to your Author Alert. It's a joint account for a couple of collaborations my cousin and ParaCaerOuVoar are doing, and from the little snippets I've read, they're gonna be fantastic. The reason I mention it is because one of them is another AU Pemma fic set around this same time in S2.

1. Shock

"I can tell, she's raising hell to give to me. But she got me warm, so please don't get me rescued..."
-Jack's Mannequin, "Rescued"

"You gotta let me go, Nathan!" Peter yelled, even as he clung to his brother's shoulders, desperate for anything to keep him grounded just long enough... Pain rippled through him as he struggled to prevent the explosion inside him. Nuclear fire burned through his body, causing him unbelievable agony and it was only due to Claire that he wasn't a charred corpse falling away through Nathan's hands already. The cold air of the higher atmosphere whipped across his skin, cooling him, but it would never be enough...

Nathan would not let him go. "You go, I go!" he replied over the roar of the wind.

"No! I'll be okay! You can fly, I can't!"

"What do you mean?" Nathan cried.

Peter bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood as another lash of fire seared through him and the side of his brother's face began to crinkle and burn from proximity to his raging heat. Peter was too small for this, too small a person to contain all this fire and glory... "It's taking everything in me, all my power not to explode!" he replied. "Lemme go!" Seeing Nathan's skin continuing to pucker, he shoved hard against Nathan's chest to push himself away and then he was free-falling...

Screaming at the top of his lungs as the nuclear reaction in his chest built to an unbearable power, he tumbled through the sky. And then...

Light.

***************

He nearly stumbled to his knees as he landed heavily outside the emergency room doors; his brother's unconscious body was a dead weight intent on dragging him to the pavement. But he was able- barely- to keep his footing and stagger into the hospital. Calling for help, he deposited Nathan on a gurney and turned him over to the care of a bevy of nurses and at least two doctors who swarmed over to them. "Keep him alive, okay!" he shouted frantically after them. "Do whatever it takes!"

As they disappeared behind the doors in the direction of the emergency care facilities, a rush of cold swept over him. He couldn't leave Nathan alone now, he just couldn't! He wouldn't be any help to his brother, but there was no way he was going to be far away. Grabbing a blanket from the top of a pile stacked neatly on a shelf, he wrapped it around his shoulders, trying to ward off the chills that were running through him.

Without really thinking about it, he slipped into invisibility, hurrying away in the direction he had seen them taking Nathan.

The horror of what he had done settled in his chest like granite, and he felt his knees shaking. For a moment, he thought he might actually collapse, but somehow he kept staggering forward, wandering deeper into the hospital. Oh god, what had he done? He could only keep pressing forward, praying Nathan would be alright, hoping to find where they'd taken him. The coldness that seemed to have seeped right down into his bones refused to go away, and he could feel himself shaking in full-body-wracking tremors. A detached, clinical part of his mind told him he was in shock. The rest of him didn't care.

Eventually, he realized that he was completely lost. He'd spent some time around Mercy Heights when he was getting his nursing degree, but he'd never taken the time to become familiar with the layout of the building. It was all just too much, and he fell through the first open door he could find, losing the invisibility as he did so.

He found himself in what appeared to be a records room of some kind. Unable to really process any more than the immediate present, he stumbled into the corner, away from the door and the window. Curling himself up into a tight little ball, he gave in to the shaking and tried to shut out the world.

***************

Emma Coolidge liked to consider herself to be a very calm, collected woman. Very little perturbed her, and she prided herself on her ability to be rational under stress. But she was not at all prepared for what was waiting in the file room when she returned from her tea-finding mission. A man about her age sat curled up in the corner, wrapped up in a white blanket and rocking back and forth slightly. He was shaking visibly, and his eyes looked unfocused.

Briefly, Emma debated calling for help. After a short struggle with herself, however, she decided to try to handle it on her own first.

When she knelt down in front of him, the man barely registered her presence. "Hey," she said, "Are you alright?" Stupid question, she knew. He wouldn't look like that if he were. But at the sound of her voice, his eyes flickered with life and he appeared to acknowledge her. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked.

She saw his mouth move, but from the way his face was angled, she found herself unable to read his lips. "I have a hearing loss," she said, hating the words. "Can you say that again?"

At last, he looked up at her, and Emma was caught off-guard by the force of his gaze. His dark eyes were, in a word, haunted. She had rarely seen anyone so distraught.

"My name's Peter," he said. Then he dropped his face away from her again.

"Alright Peter, I'm Emma," she introduced herself. "Here, let's get you up off the floor." She took hold of his elbow and all but pulled him to his feet. He offered no resistance, but did little to help her, either. As he unfurled from his near-fetal position, she realized for the first time that his clothes were blackened and partially ripped, as though he'd been in a fire. That, she guessed, was the key to why he was in this state.

There was a second chair besides hers in the file room, and she quickly guided him over to it and eased him into it, fearful that his legs might give out. She then pulled her chair over so that she was sitting in front of him. Very gently, so as not to alarm him, she took his hand in hers and pressed her fingertips to his wrist, checking his pulse. It was rapid and weak, like a bird's heartbeat beneath her fingers. She sighed.

"You're in shock," Emma told him bluntly. "Since you don't seem to be bleeding, it's psychological. What's happened to you?"

Once again, his eyes came up to meet hers, anguish written all across his face. "Nathan," he mumbled. "My brother Nathan, it... I need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay."

When he made to stand up, she pressed a hand to his shoulder to force him back into the seat. He gave in with little resistance. "He'll be alright," Emma said, though she wasn't really sure of that at all. It was better to help him through this right now and worry about the psychological scars later. Scanning through what she knew about treatment for psychological shock, Emma recalled that chamomile was supposed to be a good natural remedy if no other options were available. Glancing down at the mug of tea she still held, she sighed, and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "Drink this."

Mechanically, he raised the cup to his lips and swallowed. When he'd finished, she took the mug from him and set it aside. Emma noticed that his hands were steadier, but he still refused to hold her gaze for more than a second at a time. Hesitantly, she placed a hand delicately against his cheek, simultaneously giving the stunned man a comforting caress and bringing his head up so that he would look at her. "Peter," she said gently, "tell me what happened to you."

He burst into tears.

So, what do you think? Essentially, this is going to take a second look at season two, plus the four intervening months between the seasons. Review and give opinions- good or bad. I'm a little shaky on the final scene, but after having re-written it six times I just don't think it's going to get any better.