Nothing terribly exciting in this chapter, however there is some more interaction between Bella and Peter, which seems important to me because putting them together would be weird if they never talked, right? There's also some tension between him and Claire over him using Sylar's power to find out about Bella's – no big fights of course, but I thought it'd be rational for Claire to be perturbed over Peter taking/using Sylar's ability considering what Sylar did to her. And I think taking said power after being warned about the side effects was… what's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah, dumb! Feel free to debate with me on that if you'd like.
Chapter 7: Decode Me, Pt. 2
Peter flicked his fingers, telekinetically pushing me backward, sending me sprawling, disorienting me all over again. Before I could so much as begin gathering the scattered threads of my thoughts he was pulling me to my feet. "Get the hell away from me!" he shouted, shoving me so hard that I was nearly knocked down.
I instinctively grabbed him for balance, stammering out, "Peter, wh-what's happening?"
"I told you this ability was dangerous, didn't I – that I can't always control it? But you told me to use it anyway-" he grimaced, almost like he was in pain, "-and now I'm going to open up your mind the hard way if you don't get out of here now!"
But I couldn't. My rational mind screamed at me to do what he said, to run as fast and far as possible before the last remnants of his control over this volatile ability slipped away and he really did try to finish what Sylar had started, but that rational part was drowned out by something stronger – an ability-related instinct much the same as the one that came with intuitive aptitude, so strong it left no room for thinking, or for doing anything except using this new part of my mind.
Seconds before, I had gained a new and different kind of perception for sensing all the abilities Peter's mind could access; now I sensed how to block that access. So I did it. I reached out with my mind and blocked Peter from tapping into Sylar's power as easily as I would reach my hand out to flip a switch on or off. No sooner had I done whatever I had done than all the tension that had been building since he first tried to touch my mind drained out of the atmosphere.
Peter and I both stumbled slightly, thrown off kilter by the sudden shift in our brains; he was obviously in control of himself once more and my sensitivity to his powers vanished. With it off I saw nothing to mark the man in front of me as anything other than absolutely ordinary, which was something of a relief –all the power contained in his brain was overwhelming.
"Bella, what- how- I was about to lose it, really lose it and rip your head open – then it just stopped… Was- was that you?" It was comforting to see that I wasn't the only one whose head was spinning, and satisfying that for once I was the one with the answers instead of the one needing an explanation.
"Yeah, that was me," I said in a tone I hoped sounded appropriately modest. "I don't know how I did it; I was just panicking and then it was like this drive I never knew I had got turned on and I just…did it without even thinking about it."
Peter nodded, rubbing his forehead; I wondered if that helped him think or if my flipping his mental switches had given him a headache. "That makes sense; like Claire told you, the first time using your abilities is usually like that. The part I don't understand is exactly what did you do?"
I wasn't sure how to explain it, but I did my best. "I sensed all of your abilities, like light switches inside your head, and I just turned off the one that controlled Sylar's intuition. That's it, really. But hey, Claire told me about you, what you do, and if I remember it right shouldn't you have whatever I have now? I mean, she said you absorb new powers by getting close to someone who has them, and you've been in close proximity to me; we even had skin-to-skin contact while you bandaged me up after…you know," I finished awkwardly after changing my mind about saying 'after Sylar tried to decapitate me'.
It wasn't that I was afraid to talk about that night – although the memory still caused the unpleasant sensation of something cold slithering down my spine, it was hardly the worst I'd endured – just that it seemed insensitive to bring that up after less-than-perfect control had almost caused Peter to do the same thing. "Um, I think I've figured out what I can do now, so should I show you how to use it, or is that the kind of thing you do yourself? Sorry, I don't really understand how you use this thing of yours." I blushed, certain I was making a fool of myself and glad my mind was unreadable.
"Yeah, neither did I when it first showed up. Caused a lot of trouble before I finally got a grip on it, and even now I mess up sometimes – obviously."
"Oh," was all I could think to say. "So basically you're telling me that this whole superpowers thing is something you never completely figure out, and you have to keep learning as you go?"
"Pretty much."
This time I couldn't come up with any response, so I kept my mouth shut; at least, I did until yet another question popped into my head. "When you first got your power, didn't anyone explain it to you, tell you what to do with it? Or…was there no one around who could?"
"There was. My mother knew exactly what was going on with me, and with Nathan-"
"Who's Nathan?"
"My older brother. He can-"
"Fly," I supplied. "Claire told me. I won't interrupt you again, sorry."
"Okay, now you're doing that thing where you apologize too much."
"I'm s-"
"Don't say you're sorry. Just – just go tell Claire she can come out of her room now, okay?"
"Claire's been in her room this whole time?" I asked, taken aback and slightly hurt. "I thought she wasn't home; I guess I didn't notice if her car was here or not, since I was preoccupied… Is she angry with me?"
"Why would she be? It's me she's avoiding, not you," Peter assured me. Confused, I opened my mouth to ask why Claire wanted to avoid him – I'd always thought they got along quite well – but he guessed what I was thinking and said, "Claire doesn't approve of me using Sylar's power; she wasn't happy when she found out I'd taken it from him, but she gets that there's no way I can get rid of it. Most of the time she's okay with that, but she hates me trying to use it."
He turned away to stare out the window, although I could tell he wasn't taking in the scenery at all; clearly he was unhappy about something, but I wasn't sure whether that was having Sylar's dangerous power and the urge to kill that came with it or arguing with Claire about using or repressing it.
"I'm…sorry…about…" I began hesitantly, uncertain what to express sympathy for.
Peter's shoulders jerked as if he was shrugging it off. "Don't be. Claire's right; I shouldn't have made him tell me how to tap into his power – he warned me this would happen and I didn't listen, which was about the stupidest thing I could've done. And now that I've got his intuition, look how much good it's done me; I just tried to kill you! If you hadn't been able to stop me, I would have."
Another twinge of sympathy jolted through me, which was a strange feeling; it had been a long time since I'd felt sorry for anyone besides myself. I wished I could say something to make him feel better – after all, he'd done a lot for me, saving me from Sylar and helping me find something that I'd never been able to find in myself – but the right words didn't come to mind, so I settled for edging closer and tentatively laying my hand on his arm.
The simple gesture made my stomach flutter nervously; I'd never tried to be friends with anyone who wasn't a high school student like me before – my extracurricular social life was nonexistent, so classes were the only places I met new people – and I seemed to have an extraordinary amount of trouble with how to act around Peter. Don't be stupid; he's not that much older than the kids I hang out with at school, and Claire doesn't turn into a bundle of nerves around him!
Of course she doesn't, a voice in the back of my head retorted, he's her uncle. Her being nervous around him would be as dumb as me being uncomfortable with Charlie! Or possibly Claire was just better with people than I was – not that that was saying much. I waited anxiously to see if Peter had a problem with me touching him; he tensed a bit and glanced down at my hand but didn't pull away, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and tightened my grip briefly before releasing him. "I think I'll go let Claire know I'm still alive," I said, and immediately felt like biting my tongue for saying something so insensitive.
"Good idea." Peter's mouth twitched – at first I thought the reminder that he might have killed me had irked him, but then I saw he was trying not to laugh at me. I should definitely stick to being friends with other teenagers; apparently I can't keep from coming off as a complete dolt around anyone older! I retreated toward the stairs leading up to Claire's room before any more brilliant comments found their way out of my mouth, hoping fervently that I wouldn't trip on the way.
To my intense relief, I made it all the way to Claire's room without incident – and found the door closed. Barging in on my friend seemed rude; I knocked, but the door didn't open. "Claire, it's Bella. Can I come in?" No answer. "Claire?" I pressed my ear to the door and picked up nothing but some sort of muffled pounding vibrating through the wood. What in the world is she doing in there? My first thought was to call Peter, but that might not be the best idea if Claire had shut herself in there because she was mad at him. Instead I twisted the knob, not knowing whether to be pleased or dismayed when the door swung open.
I entered Claire's room and found that my half-formed worries had been groundless; she wasn't smashing furniture or anything like that (not that I'd really expected her to be, but still). In fact, she wasn't doing anything except lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling – the headache-inducing pounding was coming from her stereo, something I probably would have realized sooner if I hadn't forgone listening to music for so long.
Music didn't bother me now, but the earsplitting decibel level to which Claire had cranked the stereo did, so I quickly located the 'Stop' button and killed the noise. "Hey!" Claire sat bolt upright, startled by the sudden silence, then relaxed when she saw me. "Oh, Bella, it's you."
"Yeah. Sorry for just walking in, but I did knock…"
"It's fine; I just didn't hear you."
"Gee, I wonder why," I said drily. "I suppose you don't have to worry about hearing loss – your ears can probably repair themselves – but what do you need such loud music for?"
"Nothing really…okay, honestly I turned it up to try to annoy Peter, but it doesn't seem to have worked." She shook her head, irritated.
Trying to cheer her up, I said, "Well, I don't know if you annoyed him or not, but he certainly got the message that you're not happy with him."
"So I guess now you want to know why," Claire said in a tone that suggested she was resigning herself to explaining something unpleasant.
I scratched my arm, searching for imaginary bug bites to give myself an excuse to look away. "Well…Peter actually kind of…already told me. Something about you being upset over him taking Sylar's power? But from what I've heard, it doesn't sound like he had much choice in the matter…or did he?"
"Yes, he did! He'd met Sylar before and copied stuff like telekinesis from him, but he never had the one that makes Sylar rip out brains till he took it on purpose!" She clenched her fists like she was resisting the urge to punch something.
I frowned; I was no fan of Sylar myself, given that he'd tried to kill me, but even I didn't get angry every time he came into the conversation. "Claire, um…don't hit me for asking, but I can't help noticing that Sylar seems to be a sore subject with you…" I stopped there, the vocal equivalent of leaving a blank space for her to fill.
"Yeah, he is." Claire bit her lip, teeth digging into her skin until bright red droplets welled up around them.
"Claire – you're bleeding!" I exclaimed.
She stopped biting and ran a finger over her mouth, examining the blood with mild interest. "Huh, I didn't notice."
"You didn't notice biting so hard you broke your skin? Okay, healing I can understand, but this – what is it, you don't even feel pain?"
"I used to; I don't anymore. Sylar did that to me, which is why I hate him. Pain was the only thing that made me feel like I was still human; he took that away and now…now I don't know what I feel like. Not anything close to normal – I'm a freak. I've always thought maybe I was, but at least I had one normal thing to hold onto until he-" Her voice rose angrily until she cut herself off midsentence. "Sorry, I think I need a minute."
"I don't blame you." I honestly didn't; I understood all too well what it was like to go through something horrible that left you feeling like a barely-human wreck of what you used to be. I'd had my own similarly devastating experience, after all. "Look, if you don't want to talk about this anymore, you don't have to."
Claire gave me a grateful smile but said, "No, I think I should talk about it. I really haven't – there aren't many people I can talk to about something like this – and getting it off my chest might help. And it's one of those things you might want to know about me, you know, since we hang out so much. Anyway, Sylar tried to get my ability before, but I guess the third time was the charm."
"Third? What happened the first and second times?"
"The first time Peter saved me – which, by the way, was also the first time I met him, what with me being adopted and all, and we didn't even know we were related – and the second time I wasn't home and my dad and his partner got there in time to catch Sylar and take him away. Too bad the company never got any better at keeping him locked up; he's gotten away from them, what, three times now? I think they must have some pretty crappy holding facilities," she said, rolling her eyes. "So Sylar finally caught me home alone…and he took what he wanted from me."
"You mean…?"
"He cut the top of my head off and poked around my brain, yes. I thought maybe he was going to eat it, but he said that was disgusting – like scalping me wasn't – and that there was something different about me and he couldn't kill me, and then when he was done he reattached my scalp so I could heal. Only there must've been some damage I couldn't recover from, because that was when I stopped feeling when I get hurt."
At a loss for words for the second time, I once again found my capacity for offering comfort reduced to touching; at least reaching out and squeezing Claire's hand was easier, probably because she was just another teenage girl like me. We sat on the bed saying nothing, both lost in our own thoughts, until we were brought back to reality by Peter knocking on the open door.
"Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, looking from me to Claire and back as if trying to figure out what we were doing before he came in.
"No, no, not at all – we were just, um…"
"Hypnotizing each other? Or working on synchronized staring into space?"
"Yeah, that's what we were doing – I think synchronized space-staring will be the next big thing in sports," Claire quipped before I could say anything, for which I was thankful as I didn't have any witty comebacks in mind.
"Good, it'll give you something new to do since you've quit cheerleading," Peter shot back. "Anyway, Bella, your dad just called; apparently something's come up at work and he wanted you to know he'll be late getting home."
"Charlie won't be home until late?" I scrambled off Claire's bed, too focused on this news to be embarrassed about grabbing the mattress's edge for balance. "Why, what happened?"
Peter held up his hands, fingers spread in the universal gesture for 'search me'. "All he told me was, and I quote, 'something's come up at work'. You said he's a cop, right?" I nodded. "Then it could be just be a traffic accident. Whatever it is, he seemed worried, either about you driving after dark or being home by yourself, because he asked if it was all right for you to stay here tonight. I told him it was fine with me; what about you?"
"Yeah…fine," I repeated mechanically. What could have happened? I doubted it was a simple traffic accident - there wasn't that much traffic in Forks. And Charlie didn't want me home alone – did that mean he expected to be out all night?
"Bella, are you all right?" Peter asked, moving closer and gripping my shoulders to steady me.
"Yes," I murmured dazedly, then shook myself out of my semi-trance. "Sorry for spacing out, I just-"
"Worry about your dad; it's okay. Whatever's happened, I'm sure it's nothing you need to get wound up over." He tightened his grip on me for a second before letting go and turning to Claire, who'd frozen as she took in this new development. "You don't mind Bella staying here, do you?"
She shook her head. "Not at all; she can sleep in here unless she'd rather we set up the guest room-"
"No, I don't want you to go to any trouble," I cut in. "Sleeping in here's fine – although I'll have to borrow some pajamas, and I don't have my toothbrush since I wasn't planning on spending the night."
"I'm sure there's an extra one around here somewhere, but if you'd rather have yours I could take you back to your house to grab your stuff," Peter offered.
I agreed without thinking, and then mentally groaned when I thought of the number of opportunities the car ride to my house – on the other side of Forks! – would give me for embarrassing myself in front of him.