Chapter 21
Author's Note: Special shout-outs to Kessi38, JediGirl, and GaaraHinataWake for their support and leaving super awesome, wonderful, inspiring reviews. :) I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter!
This was the moment that Sylar had been waiting for his entire life, the grandiose importance of his actions not lost on him as he walked determinedly towards the president's limousine...he had now taken the form of one of the president's aides.
All he needed was one handshake from the Commander and Chief...and everything he had ever craved, ever desired, ever desperately hoped for...it would all be his to hold within the palm of his hand. He would finally be the most powerful man on earth...and this time, it would be real power. No one could ever stop him...no one could ever say no to him or ever deny him what he wished...never again.
He entered the limousine eagerly...perhaps too eagerly, his usually tempering nature largely absent as all his life's goals were dangled tangibly in front of him. He sat down on the cushioned seats quickly, turning to tap on the window to indicate the driver to take him and the president away. The black privacy window rolled up as Sylar turned to address the president.
The president was a sturdy, bald, dark-skinned man. He held a stern and commanding air about him. He wielded his authority well...and Sylar liked that. The tall, young man took a good long look, drinking in the sight of the man that was soon to be Sylar's identity from now on.
"Thank God you're all right, sir." Sylar smiled, brightly.
"The Secret Service did a hell of a job today." The president agreed.
Sylar gave a small nod as he smiled. "And so did you..." And this was his big moment...he was saying goodbye to worthless Gabriel Gray forever...goodbye to everything he had ever hated about himself...goodbye to a life of loneliness and pointlessness and on to a life of destiny and meaning.
He would be so special...and his mother would've been so proud of him.
If only she could've seen him now.
Sylar extended his hand; his stomach giving a pleasant leap when the president reached out to clasp it tightly within his own. It was a firm, solid handshake...but then, after a moment, Sylar noted that it was almost continuing a bit too long and with too much undue force.
Sylar looked down at his hand curiously. He could feel himself absorbing a person's DNA...but something was not quite right...there was a stirring that something had gone wrong from within his gut now.
But nothing could go wrong now. Not when he was so close...so desperate...
He decided to go through a range of personas, his trepidation growing. No, this wasn't right...there was a new DNA held within his power, but it was all wrong...he could feel the familiar thick, dark locks briefly touch his forehead...those soft, maddening lips becoming his own...no, he had absorbed the DNA of Peter Petrelli somehow.
He continued through his host of characters...even becoming Nathan for the smallest of moments...before settling back on himself.
Something was very wrong. The president's DNA had not entered his body at all. But Peter's had...Peter's had...oh, god of course...
Sylar jerked his head up in dark understanding as he tried to remove his hand hastily, dismayed to see that the president was still grinning fiercely.
The president roughly pulled Sylar forward and the latter's eyes widened in shock as the Commander in Chief then proceeded to shove a sedation needle directly into the area beneath the Sylar's chin.
Oh, god. Not now...deep down Sylar knew exactly who it was...who it always was...but it still filled him with the same pulsating dread. It was his tormenting little demon...his vicious, spiteful angel...here to rob Sylar of his destiny once more.
Sylar let out a small grunt, Peter's form appearing from where the president had once sat moments ago. Peter looked so horribly pleased with himself as a dark smirk quirked those full, warm lips. He yanked Sylar closer towards him...his breath hot and inflaming...his chest heaving with excitement as Sylar's followed suit with full realization and shock...that during their fight, Peter had absorbed the ability to shape-shift as well.
"Betchya didn't think I'd take that one from you." Peter hissed, shoving the rest of the shot up into Sylar's neck with meaningful force. Peter's face was so cruel...so hateful...so denying...so beautiful...
God, Sylar wanted to kill Peter so badly. This had been Sylar's chance of a lifetime and Peter had raped him of the opportunity, drugging and discarding him.
Sylar felt his eyes slip shut as his body became weightless beneath him. He wanted to choke the life out of Peter...to kiss the young man soundly until he could hardly breath...until Peter was gasping and moaning for air...those lips trembling to suck it in even as they grunted in the futile attempt...and then when Peter was sufficiently frustrated and suffocated...Sylar would shove a knife deep into Peter's gut...being sure to twist it ever so painfully as Peter was twisting the syringe into Sylar's neck right now.
And Sylar knew, ever so poignantly, that he had never truly escaped who he was in the end. Over the course of two years he had run across the world in an attempt to lose himself and to become someone...or something...great, but Peter Petrelli...and Gabriel Gray...had always caught up with him in the end. He couldn't outrun his past...it was a smothering presence that refused to die...one could hold it under a pillow or submerge it underwater for as long as the liked...it never disappeared.
He could deny Gabriel Gray's existence...forget that he had ever owned that name...but in the end that's all he was...it was the reason he kept failing...the reason Peter never looked at him with a hint of respect...it was the man who, at the end of the day, was all he ever really amounted to.
He was just Gabriel Gray...but Angela Petrelli had other plans for him.
"Okay...which movie do you want to watch first?" Claire asked, holding the two DVDs that she and Peter had rented up for him to see.
"Well, let's get the romantic one out of the way." Peter replied with a small grin; he was moving pillows around so that the old, ratty couch he had recently bought appeared to be a bit more welcoming.
"It's a good movie, I promise you." Claire replied, slipping the DVD into the second-hand DVD player. It had been a gift from his mother...he hadn't used it as of yet though, the need to watch movies having been made obsolete in-between his job as a paramedic, doing vigilante work with Gabriel, and generally feeling as if his free time was devoted to getting a good night's sleep in order to start everything all over again.
But this was nice because it was so far away from all of those other things. This was just sitting on the couch at night, watching a movie with his niece, and for a moment in time, forgetting about all of the other demanding responsibilities that lay on his plate.
"I'm only watchin' this 'cuz I'm with you." Peter pointed out, as Claire plopped down on the couch next to him, her head leaning against his shoulder. "And the fact that I did doesn't leave this apartment, got it?"
"Oh, you're gonna like it, you softy." Claire replied, giving Peter a small shove with her own shoulder. "But I still can't believe you've never watched Casablanca before."
"I mean, I've heard of it. This is the one where everyone dies at the end, right? It's like a classic." Peter whispered, leaning his head closer to Claire's.
Claire looked at him incredulously before giving a disbelieving chuckle. "I can see that my work in educating you in romantic cinema is cut out for me."
"Yeah, good luck with that." Peter grinned, giving her a small squint of his eyes.
Claire grabbed the popcorn bowl off of the floor and held it in her arms, lifting it briefly for Peter to take a few pieces. Peter grabbed a handful and smiled...Claire took right to moving around his apartment as if she had been there many times before...somehow she had wrangled up an old box of popcorn and took it upon herself to make it for them. She was such a good person...tomorrow was going to be difficult for her as well, and yet he could sense that she had taken on the role of being his comforter.
"I love Ingrid Bergman in this film...she's so beautiful and classy." Claire sighed, grabbing another fistful of popcorn
Peter considered questioning which actress that was, but he decided to not reveal any more of his ignorance, settling into the couch as the opening credits began.
"Did you and Nathan like watching movies together?"' Claire asked, raising her bright green eyes up to look at him.
"Yeah, we loved action films...you know, guy movies." Peter smiled, and Claire gave him a knowing grin as she turned back to watch the film.
Peter remembered the time that Nathan had taken him to see Lethal Weapon 3 when he was thirteen. Angela had sent her sons to the theater with implicit instructions that Peter was not to see any movies with gratuitous violence at his age...however; Nathan had reasoned with Peter once they left home that the Lethal Weapon series should not be classified as mere gory exploitation films...there was an artistic depth to them...somewhere, Nathan was certain.
But it turned out that artistic depth hadn't mattered in the least; both boys simply enthralled by the high-action excitement the film had delivered on. It turned out that their good mood had been short-lived, however...Peter's inability to lie had given them away once the younger Petrelli had finally admitted to Angela about seeing Lethal Weapon 3 but that "it hadn't really been a movie about violence...there had been some artistic depth."
When neither brother could provide evidence that said depth had, in fact, existed Angela had put them on dish washing duty for the remainder of the week. Or at least...Peter soon found out that he was...Nathan was twenty-one and seemed to think that the punishment hadn't applied to him. Peter had been furious with Nathan at the time...as he sat glumly at the sink by himself, elbow-deep in soapy water...but now he simply looked back at the memory with great fondness and amusement. Getting in trouble with Nathan had always been worth it in the end, hadn't it?
A couple of hours later, the bowl of popcorn only held a few kernels that hadn't popped, the movie's end credits were rolling, and Peter had an arm around Claire who was lightly dabbing her wet eyes with a tissue.
"God, that movie makes me cry every time I watch it." Claire sniffled, trying to give a small smile through her tears.
Peter gently rubbed her shoulder. "Hey, they'll always have Paris, right?"
Claire gave a nod as she released a small sigh. "Yeah."
Peter gave her another squeeze with his arm...it had been a well-done film, but somehow the timing of its story...love and loss and sacrificing personal wants for the greater good...had hit him all the more. It had partly reminded him of Nathan...and also partly of Gabriel. If he had to choose between being with the person he loved or doing the right thing, what choice would he make? The answer didn't come as easily to him as he felt it once might've in his younger days.
Claire dabbed her eyes once more as she took in a deep breath. "So, did you like it? Or did you not completely hate it?"
Peter laughed softly. "No, Claire. I liked it."
"Good." Claire smiled, sitting up straighter on the couch. After a few moments of silence, she stood, popcorn bowl in hand and headed back towards the kitchen. "Do you want me to get you anything else?"
"No, I'm fine." Peter insisted, standing up to join her in the kitchen. "You're a guest in my house, c'mon. You go sit down."
"I'm just washing the popcorn bowl. Don't worry about me, Peter." Claire flashed him another confident grin. "I need to do a little work again, college has made me lazy."
Peter knew that wasn't true, but he resisted the urge to argue with her over it. Admittedly, it was nice to have Claire so helpful in making sure that the time leading up to Nathan's birthday was one that was not stressful for Peter, but he also didn't want her to have to bury her own pain and emotions in order to focus solely on his. He would have to talk to her about it tonight, to make sure that she knew that she could cry too and that he would be there for her as well.
It was later that night, as Claire reclined on the couch, balancing a bottle of nail polish in her lap, her foot up in the air as she repainted all of her toenails a shade of red. Peter sat next to her, reading the book Dying of the Light...he remembered that he had once promised Gabriel that he would do so...Gabriel had wanted to discuss the themes with Peter. It was his way of connecting to Peter; it was his way of sharing something he loved with the young man.
"Is that a good book?" Claire asked, her eyes concentrating as she placed another layer of polish on her big toe.
"Yeah, it's about timeless subjects like relationships and death." Peter shrugged, thumbing to the next page. "Speaking of relationships, how're you and Gretchen doing?"
"It's been really good." Claire admitted, the brush poised in her hand over her next toe. "Once I stopped placing up all these defenses and walls...everything got a lot better. You know, she was someone I never thought I'd be with and yet...she's the person I needed to be with. She grounds me, she keeps me honest, and she's someone I can trust completely."
Peter nodded, thoughtfully. "That's good. Love is always more fun when it's not complicated, right?"
"And that's just it...I realized that love is sometimes a lot simpler than you make it." Claire gave s small shrug, as she polished her little toe. "I was the one making it complicated because I couldn't see that I was the one who was afraid. I was afraid to love her, I was afraid to let my guard down, and I was afraid of what it would mean to be that vulnerable in front of someone. Heartbreak is one thing that can't just heal. But then I remembered that it's better not to be indestructible when it comes to relationships. When you meet someone who's worth it, it's good to be scared. It's what makes us all human still."
Peter closed his book and placed it down on his lap. "Nathan once told me that love always come around again and stronger than before. And that's how you know...that's how you know when you have somethin' special. At the time I didn't know what the hell he was talkin' about, I was just the kid who thought he was gonna marry his high school sweetheart. But now I know what he meant. Sometimes it's when you're really scared at the beginning...'cuz you've been burned before and you never wanna feel that bad again. But then you go ahead and do it anyway. You go and fall in love."
Claire glanced over at him, a curiosity sparkling in her eyes even as she tried to keep her tone neutral. "So...anyone special in your life right now?"
Peter gave a harsh chuckle, his hand coming up to rub his chin, awkwardly. "Ah...I don't know anymore, Claire."
"You don't know?" Claire quirked her lips at him in amusement. "If you like someone you should tell them."
"I think I make love too complicated." He smiled, giving her a small wink. "I haven't gotten it all figured out yet like you."
"Yeah, right." Claire chuckled, rolling her eyes self-mockingly. "I don't have anything figured out. This is the girl who is probably going to have the undecided major until her senior year, remember?"
"You could always be a doctor or a lawyer. They run in the family." Peter teased, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
"Or a nurse." Claire replied brightly, putting the cap back on her nail polish bottle.
Peter laughed, his heart warming at her words. He loved how much Claire admired him, he couldn't help it. Even Superman needed his supporters, after all. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her in for an appreciative kiss to the top of her head.
He was about to draw away when Claire wrapped her arms around him to hug him closely; the sudden neediness of her contact taking him aback.
"You're lucky you two were so close. I bet you have so many good memories together." Claire whispered, and the sadness in her tone told Peter all he needed to know...her hurt was slightly different than his own. Yes, she missed Nathan too...but she also missed the memories that she never got to have with him. She had been adopted into the Bennet family and hadn't met Nathan until she was sixteen. Even then she had been somewhat regulated to the shadows of the Petrelli family...Nathan not wanting to acknowledge an illegitimate daughter during his run for Congress or while being a U.S. Senator. Those were all surface reasons, however, and Peter knew that deep down Nathan was simply scared...scared like anyone was of cultivating a new relationship...he was scared that he wouldn't know how to be a good father to her after having been absent in her life for so long. Claire had later told Peter that she and her birth father had began reaching a common ground...a bond had been forming and strengthening. And then he was gone...and Claire was left with the biting regrets of what could have been.
"He loved you a lot." Peter murmured, laying his own head gently on top of Claire's. "You were the reason he knew he had to save the world."
A small sniffle sounded from where her head lay on his chest and Peter was deeply relieved that he could be his niece's comfort now.
"I just miss him too." Claire admitted, sadly. "I don't even have any pictures of him or anything..."
"My mom gave me a big photo album." Peter explained, his throat constricting slightly as he spoke. "I haven't even gone through it yet though...I'm not really sure why..."
Claire hesitated for a moment, drawing back from him slightly as she replied in a soft tone, "If you want to go get it now, we can look it over together."
"It's just me, Nathan, and my mom mostly." Peter explained, softly.
"Peter...it's okay." Claire gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I know I'm not in any photos. That's not the reason I want to see it. I want to see you and Nathan together."
Peter gave a short nod, standing suddenly to retrieve the album. "Yeah, I left it in my room. I'll be right back."
Peter walked into his bedroom and pulled open his dresser drawer. He was slightly surprised to find it lying on top of the socks rather than where he had pushed it away underneath. It was also slightly open, as if someone had been looking through it.
Oh, Gabriel. Peter thought knowingly. He suddenly wished that Gabriel wouldn't have secretly looked through the album on his own...Peter hoped that Gabriel would've been comfortable enough in their relationship to ask that they go through it together. Had Gabriel thought that Peter would be angered by such a suggestion? The thought saddened Peter now.
Peter headed back to Claire, still seated on the torn, ratty couch. He sat down next to her; his hands gripping the book a little tighter than he would've liked.
"I'm excited." Claire smiled, kindly. She was still being strong for him. He felt a little guilty over that, but decided to resign himself to the fact that over the course of tonight and tomorrow they would both desperately be in need of each other.
Peter nodded as he opened the book to the first picture. The album hadn't been arranged in any particular order, his mother had just rounded up many of the old pictures she could find for him. It was okay, he liked going through the years without them being chronological. He didn't like starting at a beginning because then it was all the more painfully obvious that there was indeed an end. He liked this better...sifting through the years at random...everything blending together in moments of happiness and wholeness within the Petrelli family.
"Awww. You guys were so cute!" Claire smiled, touching a picture of Nathan and Peter dressed up for Midnight Mass at Christmas time. The picture read that Peter was four and that Nathan was twelve. Both were wearing tuxedos and oversized bowties. "It looks like you're being told to smile, Peter, but you aren't happy in that suit..."
"Something I never grew out of." Peter chuckled, flipping to the next page.
"Oh...looks like Nathan at his prom." Claire replied, raising her eyebrows in Peter's direction. There was Nathan, beaming brightly, as two young girls clung to either of his arms, one a brunette and the other a redhead. "Was he always a notorious womanizer?"
Peter tried to smile for Claire, but he could feel the tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes again. He wanted Nathan to be here so badly right now. If only the three of them could laugh at the pictures together. If only there was still time...still time for Peter to take pictures of Claire and Nathan together to add to the album.
"And there you are at your prom...at least, I think that's you. You're doing a great job of avoiding awkward prom photos by hiding under your bangs." Claire teased, nudging Peter playfully. "God, these photos are making me feel better that I missed my prom."
"Why'd you miss it again?" Peter asked, and he hadn't realized how low and choked his tone had become. He tried to quietly clear his throat, but it only amplified the previous sound.
But Claire continued as if she hadn't noticed. "I don't know...I think someone was trying to kill me. Or someone from the future came back and told us we needed to fix something."
Peter laughed, appreciative that she could keep a good sense of humor about their past. He patted her on the knee, affectionately. "You've been really brave, Claire."
"I've heard that before." Claire admitted, pressing her pink lips together. "But the truth is, I really haven't been. I've just been trying to keep going one day at a time...just like you."
Peter gave a small nod...his eyes were beginning to glass over as his thoughts drifted once more to his lost brother...and then to Gabriel. Peter wondered if the man was okay; wondered if he was sad or lonely or needed Peter's comfort. Peter wondered why his love for Nathan and his love for Gabriel had to be so intricately tied to each other in a confusing, messy heap of threads that had been spun carelessly together. Couldn't he just mourn Nathan's death and love Gabriel...why did doing one of those things have to make the other wrong?
"Oh, look at this picture." Claire smiled, pulling at Peter's shirt sleeve to get his attention. It was him as a baby...probably only a month or two old...and Nathan was pushing him around in a large, white stroller. An older woman with graying, dark brown hair...Nonna, they had called her...was following near Nathan. Her allegiance to her birth country was made none-too-subtle by her vibrant dress made with the tricolor of the Italian flag.
"Is that your grandmother?" Claire asked, curiously.
Peter gave a small nod. "Yeah, she was my dad's mom. She was actually born in Italy but she came over to America when she was seventeen."
Claire laughed, a bit sadly. "This picture reminds me of the time that Nathan had promised to take me to Italy. He said he had visited it once while in the Air Force and that it was breathtaking." Claire smiled brightly, a chuckle still on her lips. "You know, he had tried to make me spaghetti once...but he actually burnt the pasta. Can you believe it? I told him he was the only person I ever met that could burn pasta."
She could always do that...even at Nathan's funeral. She could look back on it all and smile and reminisce fondly...she could laugh without the tears always simultaneously clouding her vision.
Peter cocked his head back in order to gaze upon Claire with glassy and darkening eyes. "How do you smile about it all so much?"
Claire replied to his words by frowning sadly, "Don't you?"
Peter shook his head pointedly. "I try but it's really hard for me. I mean, I can think about memories of him that make me laugh, that still make me feel good inside...but if I ever stop and think about him for too long..."
"It's hard for me too, Peter." Claire admitted, softly. "But then I try and remind myself that Nathan would hate it if he only ever made us cry."
Peter nodded, but something very real and pressing was pulling at his insides...demanding to be spoken. "It's just that...sometimes I'm really happy again." Peter turned to face her, his eyes dark and earnest now. "I wake up and I'm excited for the day...for the people that I have in my life." He let out a small snort, his face coming down to bury into his hand; his hair falling around to shroud his face as he choked out, "But then he's still gone."
Claire said nothing; instead she simply wrapped her arms around Peter and drew him close to her in a warm hug.
"Sometimes...he'd take me flying with him." Peter murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. "Before we knew we could actually fly. He'd take me up in one of those small airplanes for two people. He'd pilot both of us...high above the clouds...and we could see the whole world just floating by right beneath us. Time seemed to move slower and quieter up in the sky...and he would be completely at peace. And he used to say..." Peter sucked in a deep breath; a few, unwanted tears pressing heavily against his eyelids. "He used to say, 'It's like bein' in heaven, Pete.'"
"Nathan would want you to be happy now." Claire whispered, brushing her small hand against Peter's tears. "You know that I'm right."
"I know that but then..." Peter pressed his hand up against his lips and sucked in a deep breath. "Sometimes it seems like I shouldn't be happy without him, you know? That it's like I'm forgetting him somehow. When I feel pain...when I'm hurting...I know he's still with me. But when I don't..." Peter closed his eyes...he was remembering the time he had awoken in bed next to Gabriel the day after they had made love together on the kitchen table.
. "Last night was amazing...you were so attentive. My god, Gabriel, I'm still warm all over from it..."
For indeed, that night Gabriel hadn't worried about anything but making Peter feel warm and safe. He hadn't feared anything but giving himself over completely to the young man. There had been an abandonment of thought...a surrendering of doubt...and Gabriel had embraced Peter and their love so entirely that night that Peter had felt emotionally swept away.
There had been a raw newness present in the way Gabriel's body had interacted with his own...as if Gabriel really had been making love to Peter for the first time...only this time their principle joining was not tainted by fear or guilt or pain or past hurts or a need to release anger while grappling with surging feelings of want. It had just been messy, beautiful, passionate love.
"I feel...even closer, to you, Gabriel...and that scares me. But it's a good scary. It's always a good scary."
It seemed like a lifetime ago, Peter waking up that morning to the peaceful surrender of Gabriel's arms wrapping firmly around the young man's body. Gabriel had been watching Peter with the tenderest and loving expression; that sweet innocence that could dust his face was always so endearing to Peter. And Peter had felt it...felt it for one of the first times since Nathan had died...Peter had felt happy...so, so very warm and happy...and content.
And he had selfishly wanted to feel that way forever. He had wanted to just be happy and in love with Gabriel. He had wanted to believe that he could finally find the life he had always hoped for: the power to change the world and to save people's lives, someone by his side in which to love and share it all with, and the dream that someday he could settle down and begin his own family. Before all of their lives had changed in the discovery of abilities, Peter had used to watch Nathan with his wife, Heidi and dream that someday he himself would be that family man like his older brother.
But that wasn't right. Because to be happy never felt right anymore. Peter never wanted to forget that hurt...never wanted to lose that all-consuming ache...because if he did than he might lose that part of Nathan that made him hurt so damn bad. And losing any part of Nathan was unacceptable. It was bad enough he couldn't talk to Nathan anymore...how many times in the beginning had Peter wanted to pick up the phone and call his brother...had wanted to get relationship advice when Gabriel was driving him crazy...only to realize that he had lost that part of Nathan already. And then he'd also remember why...and why he couldn't be happy.
"It never feels right to be happy anymore." Peter finished, rubbing his right eye tenderly...he could feel the heat of his tears wishing to pour forth. But he couldn't start crying...because something within told him that to start crying meant to not stop for hours...and he couldn't put Claire through that. "Not without Nathan."
"But he's still with you..." Claire lightly touched Peter's cheek...and Peter wished she hadn't, the tears becoming all the more difficult to suppress. "And he's always going to be with you no matter what...you can't lose that."
"No...no, Claire...he'd be pissed at me." Peter groaned in a choked voice; his chest beginning to heave under the pressure of keeping so much confusion, guilt, and pain buried for so long...for almost six months as he had struggled with what it meant to feel happy when Gabriel was the one resurrecting those emotions within him. He had known he had not been wrong to love Gabriel now...but how was it right when his family would only see Sylar?
"Nathan would not be pissed at you for being happy." Claire continued to dab at his wet cheek, her eyes watching him with deep concern. "Peter, you already know that. Where is this coming from...?"
"Ah, Claire...you don't understand. I can't be happy when I know that he's gone. And why." Peter let out a rough snort, and now every time he blinked he could feel hot, angry tears rushing from his bleary gaze. Damn it, he hated crying in front of her like this. It wasn't the fact that he simply was crying...his mother had always told him that his sensitivity was not a weakness and he had always believed her, after all...but it was the fact that he was shedding tears over Gabriel. The man she knew as Sylar...a man she so desperately hated...and her confusion now was not fair to her. It was making it abundantly clear to Peter that to withhold information of Sylar's change of heart was dangerously close to lying to her...and Peter couldn't have that. Not on top of everything else...he could never lie to his Claire.
"No, I think I do understand." Claire murmured, softly. She touched Peter's chin so that he'd meet her soft, emerald gaze. "This is about you never killing Sylar, right? You think you should've avenged Nathan's death. But you know what? Nathan would've wanted you to be safe and to be here for the people who love you...like your mother and me. He wouldn't have wanted you chasing Sylar all over the globe for an eternity..."
"He's changed." Peter blurted out, his gaze darkening with seriousness as his sharp, hazel eyes bored into hers. "G-Gabriel...he's changed."
Claire watched Peter intently, her lips pressing tightly together at his words. She gave a heavy swallow, a small rumble of a storm gathering on her usually bright face. "Gabriel?"
"He's not Sylar anymore. He's changed and..." Peter pressed his hand to his mouth; he was able to snort back most of his tears now. "He's changed and I've been helpin' him..."
The lack of Claire's body warmth was jarringly apparent. She placed her hands down on either side of her; pressing them deeply into the couch as if to ground herself. "What? Peter...what the hell are you talking about?"
"Before the carnival...I-I had a dream." Peter tried to reach out and touch her again, but she kept herself out of his reach. He resigned himself to this, deciding that to press on would be the best course of action now that he had started, "I had a dream that Gabriel needed to help me save all of those people. I went to find him and I found out that Matt Parkman had him trapped in a nightmare world. So I went into the nightmare too..."
"He was trapped and you freed him?" Claire demanded, her eyes flashing in disbelief.
He understood her indignation, of course he did. He had felt it all himself at one point of time. He had been so angry to even be anywhere near Sylar and to not be able to hurt him for what he had done to Nathan...for what he had done to the Petrelli family.
"Claire, at the time I hated him too!" Peter exclaimed, his voice rising louder as his emotions flooded him. "I wanted to kill him...I wanted him to suffer more than anything. But...but I needed him. To help me..." Peter gestured to himself with knowingly hollow words. "To help me save the world."
Claire turned her head away from Peter and the young man could see the tears that were burning in the young girl's eyes.
"Claire, I know that you feel betrayed right now. But you were there...thousands of people were gonna die." Peter ran his fingers through his mess of thick hair, sighing helplessly. "I spent five years in that nightmare world with only Gabriel. It was just him and me...for every hour, every minute, every second. And I hated him...I hated him so much...but then..." Peter closed his eyes tightly...remembering when Gabriel finally started reaching out to Peter. Remembering when Gabriel had first pressed his beautiful, full lips into Peter's...Peter had felt so lost for a moment, his head hurtling somewhere towards the clouds, his heart slamming against his ribcage, his stomach leaping up to his throat before he had regained enough sense to pull away and question Gabriel ferociously as to what the hell that was all about...even though deep down Peter knew he had only wished that they didn't have to stop.
"And then what?" Claire hissed, her head swinging back around so that she could stare at Peter with fervent intensity. "You forgot that he killed your brother...my father..."
"I never forgot!" Peter shouted, his face flushing as he began to relive every unwanted, sweeping emotion. "Believe me when I say that I never forgot. But he is a changed man. He came out of that nightmare a completely different person. He is never gonna hurt anyone ever again and it would've been wrong of me to continue to condemn him when..."
"He's changed?" Claire demanded, incredulously. She shook her head in absolute disbelief. "He's changed? Sylar? Remember the last time he changed...he later went on to try and kill me, my dad, and your mom...and he DID kill Meredith...my mother!"
Yes, only the dreamer can understand the intense beauty of the dream. Peter could see that now...all of the times Gabriel had sobbed over the horrors of his past...Gabriel and Peter's whispered exchanges of childhood memories...the stories that had transformed them both into the men they would become...their tender and hushed intimate touches...their brief yet passionate tryst...this was all lost on Claire now. Of course it was lost on her; she was not to blame for Peter's inability to paint the picture as vibrantly as he had once seen it.
Peter nodded heavily; his own eyes brimming once more with tears. "Claire, I know! I know that it's crazy." He climbed to his feet; pressing a hand firmly to his chest as if trying to convey some unknown point. "But he helped me to save all of those people at the carnival. And he is a good person...he was patient with me when I still wanted nothing more than to just beat the hell out of him. He never gave up on me when we were trapped in there...when we could've lost our minds in there. He's sorry and regrets it all more than you can ever possibly know... he's gonna punish himself forever for the things he's done, believe me."
"Good!" Claire snapped, also jumping up onto her feet. "I hope he does, because he deserves it. You don't just get to be sorry for the things he's done. Peter...I can't believe this is coming from you. How could you just forgive him after...?"
"I NEVER FORGAVE HIM!" Peter roared...and Claire and he both stumbled away from each other in devastating shock over the raging anger and hurt his tone had conveyed.
"Oh, god..." Peter murmured, his eyes darting away from Claire quickly. "I never forgave him...not for killing Nathan..."
And Gabriel had always known. That was why it was so hard for Gabriel to say 'I love you' back to Peter. It was because of Peter...because he didn't love as freely and without the safety net as he had always told himself. Because Peter had built up an indestructible wall to help deal with the fact that he wasn't. Those three, little words of forgiveness were still glaringly absent between he and Gabriel. Deep down Gabriel knew that Peter wanted to love him...but also wanted to punish him forever. After all, forgiveness too often times felt exactly like acceptance...and accepting Nathan's death had never been an option.
"Peter..." Claire whispered, tears dribbling out of her pained, emerald gaze and down her flushed cheeks. "Peter, I love you...you know that. I've always loved you...since the moment you saved my life. I'm...I'm just s-scared for you...s-so scared...that he'll h-hurt you too..."
"Claire." Peter choked out, grasping onto Claire's shoulders and pulling her forward into a crushing hug. At the moment, he never wished to let her go.
"He can't have you." Claire seethed, as she gripped onto Peter as tightly as possible.
"Claire..." Peter whispered, holding her closely to his body. "He's not gonna hurt me. I know that nothin' is gonna change what he's done to us...but I can't be angry like I once was anymore." Peter sighed, heavily, his own eyes growing glassier with his words. "I can't be angry because I know what it's like to wanna change."
"Peter, you can't honestly compare the two of you..." Claire began, but she fell silent as soon as Peter shook his head, determined to finish what he was trying to convey.
"How many bad things have I done in the past three years, Claire? I almost...I almost released a virus that would've exterminated the entire human race. I-I...I almost...k-killed my mom when I had absorbed Gabriel's power. His power isn't like ours...there's a hunger that comes with it. It makes the person crave more and more...until it almost drives you insane. I had that...I felt it...and I was just as much of a monster." Peter closed his eyes tightly, burying his face into Claire's soft, blonde curls. He could hear her softly weeping into his chest. And he knew he needed to press on. He needed to be strong for her right now. "I disconnected myself from everybody...I almost lost myself in all this craziness we've found ourselves in. But now I don't wanna be that guy anymore. I don't wanna lose myself in a quest to save the world from visions and dreams. I wanna be a hero to the people that I love...I wanna be a hero through saving people...one person at a time." Peter snorted heavily, his throat constricting as he gave a hard swallow. "I wanna let the past stay in the past. I changed...and I couldn't say no to him for wanting to change too. I had to stop being angry...at him, at myself...and I needed to accept the fact that everybody...everybody, Claire...needs that extra chance at trying to do things right the second time around."
"You aren't the same...stop saying that!" Claire shouted, her voice muffled and constrained as she pressed her face firmly against his heaving chest.
"I know it's the not the same." Peter agreed, his breathing still coming out hard and rough. "I know it's not the same...but I also know that I don't wanna be angry at a man who really just wants to be good now. I never want to be that angry again. I wanna be...I wanna be happy, Claire. And if he's really sorry then I wanna accept that. If he's really the man that I got to know after five years of nothing but being there for each other and only each other...then I wanna accept him."
Claire released a choked sob, her face lifting up to once more meet his. Her eyes were confused and scared...but, oh...still filled with that beautiful love and adoration they had always held for him. God, he had been so afraid that would've been extinguished by now.
"Peter, I don't trust him. I can't trust him." Claire wept, her arms still clinging to Peter with hopeless desperation. "B-but...but I trust you. I trust you, Peter and I will always trust and love you..."
"Oh..." Peter cried, burying his face onto the top of her head; kissing that soft blonde mane repeatedly in absolute relief. "God, t-thank you. Thank you, Claire...thank you..."
"But we need to talk." She added, her voice still low and uneven.
"I know." Peter nodded, laying his cheek down on top of her head; his arms still encircled around her small form. "I know we do."