A/N: Sorry, I know I promised that Peter would get back to the hospital in this chap, but the scene that makes up most of it sort of hijacked my brain, and I trust my muse, despite her fickle disposition. (I've decided to name her Varana as a result)
I love this fic. I really, seriously do. I've got all these brilliant ideas for where it's going, and all this superfantastic stuff that's going to happen ever-so-slightly differently in every storyline as a result of Emma being awesome and Elle having epic!fail (is it just me, or is she a really crappy agent, despite what Bennet says in this chapter?).
And you know what? I'm giving you a kick-ass playlist with the songs I'm listing at the start of each chapter. So if nothing else, you get that out of reading this.
3. Surreal
"You know that I was hoping that I could leave this star-crossed world behind, but when they cut me open I guess I changed my mind."
-The Killers, "Spaceman"
The drive back to Peter's building was passed in silence. Claire drove, with Noah in the passenger seat picking impatiently at the cast on his wrist. Peter huddled in the back seat, staring out the sleeping city that passed outside the window, trying not to slip back into the shadows of his mind.
When they pulled up outside his building he hesitated, suddenly afraid of the solitude that waited for him inside. "Do you guys... want to come upstairs for awhile?" he asked tentatively. "I could make coffee." He hoped the fact that it was really a desperate plea not to leave him alone didn't show.
After a quick glance at an inscrutible Noah, Claire nodded and they all climbed out of the car. While Noah fed quarters into the meter, Peter led Claire (or maybe it was the other way around?) upstairs. Mechanically, he began making the promised coffee in silence, glad for the atmosphere of composure his niece brought to the apartment.
Eventually she broke the quiet. "Peter," she said, her voice cracking, "I'm so glad you're okay." He glanced at her and realized that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. All his protective instincts kicked in and he opened his arms to her. She dove into his embrace and buried her face in his chest. "How did you survive?" she whispered. "We saw the explosion from below, and none of us thought anything could survive that..."
"Your power," he said, heart clenching. "You saved my life."
"At last something good came out of this," she replied with a tiny smile. Then she took a step back, looking up at him as Noah entered the room. "And Nathan? How did he--?"
Peter sighed. "I made him let me go. I made him drop me. He was far enough away when I--" He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply to ward off a fresh batch of tears.
Noah had entered the apartment silently. "Brave of you," he commented. It sounded odd coming out of his mouth, and Peter realized that it was an awkward attempt to make him feel better.
"Not particularly," he replied. "I just... hope it was enough."
Apparently no one could think of a response to that, so they remained in a strange, companionable quiet. Some minutes later, when a soft chime from the coffee maker indicated that the coffee was ready, Peter broke the stillness to go get the pot from the kitchen. When he came back bearing three scalding mugs, he noticed the other two watching him closely. He chose to ignore it; he had earned their scrutiny.
As Claire took her coffee from him, she frowned pensively. "This is weird," she said. "Four hours ago we were facing the end of the world as we know it--"
"At my hands," Peter interjected bitterly.
She shot him a look to silence him. "--And now we're just sitting around drinking coffee and trying to ignore how awkward and surreal it all is."
Noah smiled sadly at his daughter. "It gets easier after awhile," he promised. "I'll admit, this is the biggest crisis I've ever been involved with personally, but you hear stories..."
Peter stared at him, recalling the shady Company Claire had told him around. "You mean this has happened before?" he demanded.
"What, you think you're the first person to lose control of an unstable ability?" Noah asked, giving him an ironic smirk. "You're not. And you won't be the last."
Oddly, it made him feel better than all of Claire's confidence and Emma's calm support combined. He smiled, and for the first time that night it didn't feel forced, greasy, and unnatural on his face. "That's actually really good to know," he said.
Noah nodded. "About fifteen years ago, we had a little girl in Ohio who blacked out four counties. Electrogenicist. She overloaded and shut down a whole power grid. Set her house on fire as well. Multiple times. And that's just one I've handled personally. Believe me, Peter, not every natural disaster you hear about on the news is actually natural. Hurricanes, earthquakes. Every so often they're the result of someone's power getting out of control... or unleashed intentionally."
"And that's why you do... what you do?" Peter said questioningly.
"Did. Not anymore," Noah said firmly. "That electrogenicist? We took her into the Company. Tested her and pushed her to do more until she collapsed from exhaustion, day after day after day. She was eight years old. She was raised to be an agent, and now she is. Not a bad one, either. But she's also a sadistic, delusional sociopath who kills remorselessly and loves torturing other Company prisoners. That's the Company's legacy. Not the lives we saved. The people behind bars with no chance of parole and their powers being tested past the point of human endurance."
By the time he finished speaking, he didn't seem to be aware of them anymore. He was staring at a place on the wall opposite him with a blank, deadly look on his face.
Claire was staring at him with a half-frightened expression on her face, and Peter was pretty sure that he was as well. "That's horrible," she said quietly.
Noah nodded, coming back to himself with ease. "Why do you think I never let them get their hands on you? You would become just like her."
"I'm so sorry, Dad," Claire said quietly.
"That's why we've got to run," he said. "We've got to get away, start a new life somewhere fresh before they can catch up to us. You understand?"
The blonde glanced at Peter, who was staring into his coffee. "What about Peter?" she asked. "What about Nathan?"
Peter smiled at his niece. "I'll be fine. Nathan too," he assured her with more conviction than he really felt. "You're the one with something left to lose."
The reassurance was all she needed, though his last comment made a flicker of concern cross her face. "Okay," she said. Then she turned to Peter. "What about you? What are you going to do, now that we saved the world?"
He shrugged. "I've got some cash saved up, plus what my dad left me when he died, which was actually kind of a lot. Figure I'll just... kick back for awhile, be there for Nathan, try to figure out where the hell to go from here. I mean, I quit my job when this all started anyway, so it's not like I have anything more important to do, short-term."
Claire looked at him with sympathetic eyes. He felt a brief flash of irritation: he didn't deserve her sympathy. "You really believe in this, don't you?" she said wonderingly.
"Yeah, I did," he said. "Now? I don't know."
There was nothing to say to that, so she awkwardly switched topics. "So... what was up with spilling the beans about pretty much everything to the first pretty blonde you come across?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.
Peter glared good-naturedly at her. "I don't know," he said. "I was really freaked, okay? I told her she wouldn't believe me if I told her what happened. But she had pretty much taken care of me through a breakdown, even though I'm a complete stranger. I at least owed her an explanation."
"Wait, you're saying that you told someone you don't know about your powers?" Noah interrupted.
"Yeah," Peter said defensively.
"That was... not a good idea," the older man said.
The empath looked steadily at him. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly," he pointed out.
"Not an excuse," Noah said.
"Maybe. Look, Emma is probably the only reason I'm not a complete mess right now. I trust her, okay?" Noah raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Peter sighed. "Whatever, man, you've got good reasons not to trust anybody. I don't."
Claire could see that her father was irritable after the hectic events of the last day, and Peter was clearly exhausted, and neither of them was perfectly reasonable at the moment. Fearing an argument, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Did it hurt?" she asked, then immediately wished she could take it back, turning a little pink at a question that even as she was saying it somehow seemed too personal.
Peter was confused, though. "Did what hurt?"
"Exploding," she said abashedly. "I... did it hurt?"
He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a bark of dry, incredulous laughter. "Like nothing you can imagine," he said honestly.
She nodded, sitting back in her seat and staring into her coffee, a light flush of pink spreading across her cheeks. Noah chose that moment to rise to his feet. "Claire, we need to get going. It's nearly dawn, and we need to get going. The Haitian will have freed your mother and Lyle by now, and we're picking them up at an old Company drop-off point in Iowa tomorrow morning. If we're going to make the appointment, we have to leave now." He came around the table and shook Peter's hand firmly. "Peter, thank you."
He turned on his heel and walked out of the apartment, not bothering to make sure Claire was following.
"Where will you go now?" Peter asked.
With a glance at the door as it snicked shut behind her father, Claire bit her lip. "We've talked about it a little, but I'm not really sure. And even if I were... I probably shouldn't say. But..." Suddenly, she remembered something, and her face brightened. "But if you find Molly Walker, she'll be able to loan you a way to find us."
"What?" he asked, completely confused.
Claire smirked at him. "You'll figure it out if you need to," she assured him. "I... I have to go."
She made for the door, but halfway there she stopped and turned to face him. "And Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"You're still totally my hero."
And she turned and followed Noah out the door.
***************
Elle Bishop flounced out through the doors of Mercy Heights Hospital. She approached a white van with the words Primatech Paper Company emblazoned on the side, pulled open the passenger-side door, and bounced into her seat with a heavy sigh. "I couldn't find him!" she exclaimed. "I searched the whole building, but he's not anywhere!"
A bespectacled man in the driver's seat gave her a stern look. "I expected better of you, Elle."
"In my defense, he can turn invisible," the blonde pointed out.
"That is not an excuse," he responded. "There are ways of revealing invisible people. A large electrical charge happens to be one of them."
"So, what, I'm supposed to just go firing off ball lightning in a hospital?" she scoffed. He gave her a withering glare that had her shrinking back in her seat in fear. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she whimpered. "I'll do better next time."
Bob Bishop didn't respond, pressing his lips together in a thin, disappointed line, and turned the key in the ignition. The Primatech van moved away from the hospital.
Next time:
*Peter visits Nathan, and has a visitor of his own. For real this time. Sorry I lied this time around, but the fic would not have been the same without this chapter. Trust me.
