Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes.
A/N: Thanks for the last chapter feedback. Know that it means a lot. If I haven't responded to your comment, it's because you were anonymous. I'm glad that everyone likes it!!!
And now a chapter for all you Paire lovers. Let me know what you think. ~Danielle
Part One: Peter
Peter Petrelli was a dreamer. He heard it all of his life but there was something about this dream that seemed to fill him, like what he did today was the thing he was born to do. It was odd. The whole way there he questioned how this girl could be his destiny. He knew there was something he was missing, something that he didn't understand, something bigger. It didn't really matter what those pieces were, Peter would've gone to Texas anyway.
It wasn't what he expected. He expected to meet the present version of the future Japanese man—who ditched him to travel to the past—and to save a cheerleader from some one evil. He didn't even know what or who.
Maybe Nathan was right; maybe he was crazy.
But as he sat in a jail cell, the thoughts of the blonde cheerleader named Claire seemed to be imprinted on his mind. She felt so real, like she was sitting there next to him with that sad smile. It was all too much to wrap his mind around. He replayed it in his head, to make sure nothing was missing. Each time he saw it the same way.
The way he bumped into her, the way she made him nervous with just a look. The way she smiled, talked about Jacki. The way she screamed and trusted him when they ran. She trusted him. And he saved her.
He saved the cheerleader. She was alive. He was alive, although he should've been dead.
He was dead.
He fell off the roof of a high school. A normal person would have died. But he wasn't dead. He wasn't normal either. But this was different. She was different. She wasn't disgusted or shocked when she saw him on the ground in his own blood. She watched him as he re-aligned his bones, as his jaw reformed. She looked like she wanted to scream, not in a bad way, out of relief maybe. She was as amazed as he was.
Then she asked his name. That was it. "Hey, what's your name?" Like it was normal to see someone dead now alive, to watch body parts re-align. Maybe it was. Maybe all of this was normal.
"Are you the one?" She stopped and looked down at him. "Saving you, did I save the world?" Peter asked.
"I don't know," she paused, "I'm just a cheerleader."
Peter sat in his own torturous silence, hoping the detectives would find Claire and protect her. She had to be safe, far from Sylar or all of this was pointless. He thought of her, dead, on the ground. That's what would've happened, what still could happen.
No, she's safe, he told himself. If something was wrong, he would feel it. If she was really his destiny, then he would know because somehow for some reason, they were connected.
There was a knock at the window and Peter looked up. For a second, he thought was dreaming—she wouldn't be here. But her smile filled his view and the door opened. She walked in beside a tall man in horn-rimmed glasses. Peter stood and she smiled.
"You're ok," he said.
"Thanks to you," the tall man with horned rimmed glasses said. The man knew his name, extended his hand, which Peter shook.
The man introduced himself as Noah Bennet, told him he owed him his life for saving his daughter.
Peter smiled and shrugged. "I was just in the right place."
It wasn't a lie. He was—it was just enhanced by Isaac's paintings.
The man smiled. "Maybe one day I'll be in the right place and can return the favor."
Peter coughed mid-smile and lied about feeling all right when they asked. He tried to hide his smile when Claire asked her father to leave. He had to get himself together. This could've been his only chance to talk to her ever again. Peter smiled as Noah left, fighting off the urge to run out the door with him, away from those eyes.
He was barely gone when she looked him.
"How long have you known?" She asked. Peter looked at her, confused by what he was supposed to know. "That you were like me? You would've died if you couldn't."
Peter looked at her. It makes sense. He sat still on the bed, almost afraid to move.
"Do you heal? Is that it?"
She nodded slightly. She saved his live. She saved his life.
"All this time I thought it was just me—now there's you," she smiled again, a small realization setting in. "Is that why you came for me? Is that why you asked if I was the one?"
Peter shook his head and stared at her. "I just knew I had to save you." She shrugged, asked him why. "To save the world." It wasn't an answer. He knew that but it was it all he had.
"What do I have to do with the world?" she asked.
He thought about it. Everything, he wanted to say, but he didn't. He was honest with her. She deserved that.
"I don't know. Yet," he said.
She squirmed. She didn't like that answer either.
"I do know that I don't think I'd be here if it wasn't for you. I think I'd die," he said.
She smiled at this, he wasn't sure why but he smiled back. "I've died before. Its no big deal."
He laughed and coughed. "I'm not like you Claire. This healing thing is kinda new for me."
She looked at him. She did that a lot, made eye contact. He thought it was strange for a teenager to be so direct. He looked back and it was like looking deep into her soul. He couldn't look away, even if he had wanted to.
"You didn't know you were gonna heal when you dove off the building?" she asked.
He shook his head no. "Kinda stupid huh?"
Yes, it was stupid. Yes, he was stupid. This girl was sixteen and he was looking at her like she was something he could have. That was stupid. She smiled and says it wasn't. Her dad knocked again and she stood up, moved toward the door.
He watched her walk away and wished she could stop, stay there with him. But he knew he couldn't say it, that he shouldn't think it.
"You're totally my hero," she said before the door closed.
Hero. Peter was a hero.