Sorry for the late update; real life has been pretty busy, so every day I told myself I was definitely going to finish this chapter, and then it just...didn't happen. On the plus side, the story's moving along faster than anticipated - after reviewing my plans, I was surprised to realize that it'll be finished in five more chapters at the most, though there's a good chance that there are even fewer left than that.
Chapter 25: The Catalyst
Cullen residence - Colorado mountains
"Me?"
Claire shook her head as if hoping to dislodge what Peter had just told her from her brain, to shake it away like water out of her ears, but the words were still there, carved indelibly into her mind. "They used me as some kind of...human Petri dish?!"
"I'm sorry, Claire." Peter reached out in an attempt at some sort of consoling gesture, only for his hand to stop in midair just before it touched her, as if it had hit an invisible barrier. There was something uniquely difficult about comforting someone when they were reeling from a blow you yourself had delivered.
Luckily, Claire didn't believe in shooting the messenger. "It's not your fault. You're not the one who put this thing in me."
"That's true," he conceded, "but I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you." She had been reasonably content prior to this conversation, and he'd shattered that with the revelation that certain people, her own grandmother among them, had decided to use her as a receptacle for a substance about which little was known when she was just a baby and implanted it in her without her knowledge or consent.
"Well, at least you're not asking me to let the docs poke around in my head to get it out," she said with a rather tight, forced grin. "I won't make you do that."
Peter's breath hitched at that, because although he had explained the catalyst's purpose and importance and told Claire that it was inside her, he hadn't broached the subject of whatever procedures might be required to extract it. Maybe it was cowardly of him, but he was relieved that she had spared him the necessity of doing so, even though that small reprieve did nothing to lessen the creeping feeling of guilt slithering through him. He was supposed to protect her, after all, not ask her to undergo exploratory surgery to help him save his girlfriend. That too was meant to be his job, not hers.
As if she had read his mind, she asked, "If it was you, you'd do whatever it took, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I would," he replied without the slightest hesitation, "but-"
"I came here because I wanted to make a difference," Claire continued, cutting him off before he could voice some misguidedly noble sentiment about how he was supposed to be the hero of this story. "I know I don't have all the powers you've got - even the one ability I do have isn't much good in a fight, except for making me hard to kill - but I still wanted to do more than sit at home and try to pretend everything's normal so I can fit in at school while my dad's off doing stuff he won't tell me about to protect me... So if this is the best way I can help, I want to do it."
She paused to take a breath before continuing in a softer, gentler tone that nevertheless retained all her previous resolve. "Besides, if I were in your shoes...if the person I loved the most was dying and you were the only one who could save them...I'd want you to do it. Let me do this for you, Peter. You saved my life - let me help you for once."
Though she didn't give voice to it, he felt a subtle ache of longing in her, an unspoken hope that one day she would find someone she could love as much as he loved Bella, and it was that as much as gratitude that made him pull her into a tight hug. "Thanks, Claire."
She hugged him back just as fervently, trying to communicate through the gesture how much she appreciated that he wasn't insisting on treating her like some helpless damsel or naive child that needed to be protected at all costs, that he would give her the chance to take what had been done to her and try to make something good out of it. After almost a year of feeling like her life was spinning out of her control, like she was at the mercy of everything from Sylar to the sinister designs of a shadowy, apparently all-powerful organization that she'd just learned had manipulated and used her as far back as her infancy, to her own freakish biology, she desperately needed to believe there was a purpose to all of it, something important she was meant to do that would make it all worth it...and maybe this was it. If she could provide the key to eradicating the deadliest virus the world had ever known, surely that would be enough to give meaning to everything she'd been through, everything she and the people around her had suffered to get her here.
"Thank you."
Washington, DC
Unbeknownst to Peter and Claire, another member of their family was at that very minute wrestling with a momentous decision of their own. In the days that had passed since Peter so matter-of-factly dropped the revelation that vampires were real in his lap, then teleported away before they'd had a chance to properly discuss the situation, Nathan had spent every waking moment - which he had a lot more of these days, since sleep hadn't come easily to him since that fateful conversation, and some nights didn't come at all - turning the information over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with it... Because, despite what Peter said, he had to do something.
Even though there were times when he still wasn't completely comfortable with the existence of superpowered humans, much less with being one himself, he had for the most part accepted his new reality. Vampires, on the other hand - undead, bloodsucking monsters who may or may not be soulless, depending on which supposedly fictional interpretation you went with - that was a bridge too far, even if he believed Peter's assurance that it was only a neurodegenerative virus that had made the girl in the video act like a rabid animal.
In fact, it was even worse in a way if healthy vampires possessed the same levels of intelligence and cunning as humans, because it meant they could disguise their presence better. Apparently they had been preying on humans practically since the dawn of time and still did so to this very day, and Peter expected him to sit by and do nothing? That was simply unacceptable.
It wasn't even a question of furthering his political career; while being the one to expose such a serious threat would definitely get him a great deal of attention, he wasn't completely sure it was the kind of attention he wanted. Still, something had to be done. If the vampires weren't stopped, the entire human race could be in danger.
Reminding himself yet again that what he was about to do was for the best, Nathan picked up his phone and dialed the same number he'd punched in almost a dozen times over the past week, only this time he finally followed through with hitting the button that would place the call. He listened to the phone ringing with some trepidation, and for a second was almost tempted to hang up, but before he could do so the call was picked up, and the voice of one of the president's aides came through the speaker next to his ear.
"Congressman Petrelli, what can I do for you?"
Swallowing his nerves, Nathan answered, "You can set up a meeting with the president at his earliest convenience. Tell him I have information about the viral outbreak in Alaska."
###
The president was obviously very eager to hear this information, because Nathan was summoned to the White House the next day. The president listened attentively while he related what he knew about the Shanti virus, fingers steepled together in a thoughtful pose, then asked, "And what about that little girl? It's bad enough that there's a virus out there that practically wiped out an entire village, and now almost everyone we sent up there to investigate is sick too... So far they've just slipped into comas when the disease progresses far enough, and the ones that stay conscious long enough to become delirious haven't exhibited the...well, frankly, I can't think of any better word than 'superhuman' strength that girl had, or the...behavior. There's been some violence, but nothing like a child ripping a grown man's throat out with her teeth, for heaven's sake. Still, if this infection spreads, and there's a chance more people could react the way she did..."
"I don't think that's very likely," Nathan interjected. "That girl was infected with more than just the Shanti virus."
"More?" The president's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward with elbows braced on his desk, his face blanching for a second before he schooled his expression back into the look of calm assurance he used on TV. "What more could there be?"
Nathan drew in a deep breath, steeling himself to say the word that would either cement his place in history or get him dragged out of the room in a straitjacket. "Vampirism."
The president's initial reaction was pretty much what he'd expected - disbelief with a hint of barely concealed scorn thrown in for good measure - but as Nathan laid out everything he'd learned, which lined up with the known facts of the case too neatly to be dismissed out of hand, the other man's expression gradually changed to one of awe, then dismay, and at last settled into a look of overwhelming dread.
"If you're telling the truth," he said slowly, "and I can tell you believe every word you just said - you haven't been here long, Mr. Petrelli, but my first impression of you wasn't that you're the type to make yourself look foolish by spinning tall tales - and if these creatures are as powerful as you say they are..." His voice trailed off, and for a second he looked downright hopeless.
Then the drive and determination Nathan had admired while following his campaign reasserted itself, and a thoughtful, almost calculating look came into his eyes. "There is someone who can fight them, though, isn't there? The man who took down that infected girl - I'm guessing he must be one of those people with special, uh, 'abilities' you mentioned, right? The ones the virus primarily targets?" Without waiting for an answer, the president continued, "If we can find him, or others like him, maybe we can gain the upper hand here. You wouldn't happen to have any idea who he is, would you? Seeing as you're so well-informed on everything else?"
Nathan's breath caught in his throat; so far he had managed to avoid revealing the source of his knowledge and keep Peter's name out of the conversation, but now that the president had specifically asked... There was no doubt that being the one to provide the means for humans to fight back against vampire predation would send his own importance skyrocketing, instantly earning him the kind of recognition that, as a junior representative, he might otherwise have to spend years working for. On the other hand, it would also mean exposing Peter and potentially turning his life upside down in a way Nathan was unwilling to risk for himself; when he explained to the president how a small percentage of the human population had developed abilities that somewhat evened the odds between them and the vampires, he had neglected to mention that he was one of them.
It's not like flying really gives me much of an edge over monsters with superhuman strength and skin harder than Teflon, though, except for being able to get away from them. I couldn't have killed one like Peter did - hell, Ma says he might be the strongest of all of us... He had to stop himself from shaking his head or scoffing aloud at the idea of his directionless, too-nice-for-his-own-good little brother being the most powerful of their kind...but if it was true, didn't he have some degree of obligation to use all that power for the good of other humans, especially when they were facing an enemy that otherwise hopelessly outmatched them? Besides, he's the one who said he wanted to be a hero. Well, now's his chance.
His mind made up, Nathan spoke quickly, determined to get the words out before any nagging doubts could creep in. "As a matter of fact, I do. The man who killed that infected vampire is my brother Peter."
Meanwhile, back at the Cullens'
After obtaining Claire's consent to extract the catalyst, Carlisle and Mohinder soon encountered another problem: the greatest concentration of the elusive substance was buried deep in the central cortex of her brain, which meant they would have to cut through her skull and the surrounding tissue to get to it. That in itself wasn't an issue; similar operations had been successfully carried out before...though not on patients who were awake.
Unfortunately, this was one instance where Claire's ability worked against her, making it impossible to anesthetize her. Regardless of the potency or dosage of the drugs they gave her, she kept waking up before the doctors even had time to pick up their scalpels. At Leah's suggestion, they tried putting an IV drip in her arm to keep the anesthetics flowing steadily into her bloodstream, but her body soon acclimated to that as well; although the new method did succeed in making her rather sluggish, she was still conscious enough to feel everything that was being done to her.
"We can't operate under these conditions," Carlisle fretted, removing his latex gloves with a loud snap. "It would be inhumane."
"What?" Claire sat up, shaking her head to clear it as the last lingering effects of the sedatives wore off, the IV having been removed once it was deemed ineffective. "You have to."
"She has a point," Mohinder reluctantly acknowledged, meeting Carlisle's eyes from across the operating table. "We need that compound."
"Don't you think I know that?" the vampire doctor snapped, his normally unflappable calm starting to crack under the weight of all the pressure and disappointments that had been steadily piling up on him, of which this setback was just the latest. "Without it, the nerve damage to my wife's limb and so many others' will be irreversible! But I can't - I won't - help any of them by torturing an innocent girl."
Turning next to face Claire, he gently grasped her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes as he said, "You're very kind to feel such concern for those afflicted by this disease, especially considering that they are not human, and incredibly brave to offer to undergo a procedure like this, but to go through with it if we're unable to at least spare you the pain isn't just unethical, it's unconscionable. Esme wouldn't want me to do such a thing for her sake; in fact, she'd never forgive me if I did."
Claire wanted to argue that saving everyone was worth whatever pain she had to endure, especially since her ability guaranteed that there would be no lasting harm done, but there was something about his earnest, compassionate golden eyes that made voicing those perfectly valid points unexpectedly difficult.
A knock on the door of the makeshift operating room broke their silent standoff, causing them to look around as Alice entered.
"You do realize there's a better alternative than traditional anesthesia, don't you?" she asked without preamble, having foreseen the impasse at which they would find themselves. "Use Alec. He'll make sure she doesn't feel a thing."
Claire's eyes widened in alarm as the former Volturi guard followed Alice into the room, and she scrambled to stand up. "No. Not feeling a thing is exactly what I'm afraid of."
"I understand that being deprived of your senses is frightening," Mohinder said sympathetically, "but it will only be temporary...and under the circumstances, it does seem to be the best option."
"I agree with Dr. Suresh," Carlisle said firmly. "Unless you know of a drug that would be more efficacious than those we've already tried, I see no other way we can proceed."
"No," Claire admitted with a sigh, "I don't." Still she hesitated, caught up in a fierce internal struggle between her need to help and her possibly unreasonable yet nonetheless overwhelming terror at the idea of being plunged into an abyss devoid of any sensory input whatsoever; Mohinder might have said it would only be temporary, but with no way to measure the passage of time in such a state, she imagined it would feel like an eternity...
"It doesn't have to be as bad as you're thinking," Alice spoke up, seeing how uncomfortable she was. "Alec can apply his gift selectively."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I can take away only your sense of touch. You can keep your sight, hearing, smell, and taste if that would make the experience more palatable," he offered.
"Really?" Claire searched his face, his eyes - still the same unsettling dark red they had been when she met him, yet she couldn't find any hint of duplicity in their crimson depths. Then again, why would he lie to her? He and his sister had been very blunt about the fact that they considered humans inferior, so why bother deceiving her when he could take away her senses whether she liked it or not? It was undoubtedly an odd sentiment, to trust someone simply because she didn't think they would waste the effort of lying on her, but since when did anything in her world make sense anymore? "I guess that'd be okay."
She climbed onto the table again and lowered herself onto her front, turning her head toward the seat Alec had taken at the head of the table while Carlisle and Mohinder prepared their equipment once more and Alice left the room to give them more space; although the Cullens had done a remarkably good job of converting the largest of their few remaining unoccupied rooms - a study which was tucked away in a back corner of the guest house that had already been repurposed into a combination of clinic and laboratory when all the trouble with the virus began - into a functional operating room overnight, it was still a bit cramped.
The doctors must have signaled that they were ready to begin a moment later, because she saw a look of concentration appear on his face, and the sensations of the operating table under her and the cold air blowing across her skin - apparently it was a universal requirement that all medical facilities, even ones cobbled together in a private residence, had to have the atmosphere of a walk-in freezer - faded away, leaving her with the disconcerting feeling of floating in an airless void.
She instinctively drew in a sharp breath, as people frequently did when alarmed - at least she could still feel the relief of her lungs filling with oxygen - and then, when she heard the soft whirring of what she guessed was some kind of drill firing up behind her, fixed her eyes on the only person still in her line of sight and ordered, "Say something."
"What would you like me to say?"
"Anything! Just distract me from thinking about them drilling into my skull, okay?"
Alec considered her request for a second before asking, "Why were you so averse to my using my gift to numb the pain of this operation when the mere knowledge of what is happening clearly unnerves you? Surely it would be even worse if you could feel it."
"I guess," Claire replied noncommittally. Seeing his perplexed frown, she went on, "Don't get me wrong, pain sucks, but... When I realized I could heal, I started testing my limits - just with little things at first, although eventually I worked up to stuff that would've killed a normal person. I banged myself up pretty good...and even though it only lasted for a few seconds, in a way I was grateful that it hurt. The pain made me feel like I was still human."
Alec nodded thoughtfully, yet the furrow in his brow remained. "An interesting attitude... Ironically enough, it appears you and I hold precisely opposite viewpoints."
"How's that?" When he didn't answer right away, she said, "Come on, I really do want to know."
He scrutinized her face for a moment, gauging whether she was genuinely interested or just idly curious, before speaking again. "Aro and his brothers theorized that I developed the ability to block others' senses because in the final moments of my human life, that was all I wanted for myself - to escape the pain...to feel nothing at all. Since then, Jane and I have done everything we can to forget our previous existence."
Talented as he was at turning his face into an emotionless mask, Claire thought she detected the faintest glimmer of something in his eyes which seemed to hint that talking about this had been harder than he let on. She reached out - somewhat clumsily, since she couldn't feel her arm moving - and, using her eyes to make sure her hand ended up in the right place, laid it over his.
Alec stiffened; this human was entirely too bold for her own good, yet he could see that she meant well. In fact, her expression appeared...sympathetic? It was ridiculous to think that someone like her could think she had any reason to pity him, but he nevertheless swallowed the urge to tear his hand away - possibly breaking her fingers in the process, though that shouldn't matter in the case of this particular human - and forced himself to remain perfectly still. However misguided her sentiments were, at least her touch wasn't terribly unpleasant.
"All of it?" she asked with a slight frown. "I get why you'd want to forget the 'burning at the stake' part, but your lives weren't all bad before that...were they?"
"I honestly couldn't tell you."
"Seriously? Nothing? You just blocked it all out, just like that?"
He tilted his head a fraction, puzzled by her overreaction. "Why does this trouble you so? It's not as if we lost anything of value."
"How can you say that? It was your life!"
Carlisle and Mohinder paused their work and looked over at Alec, silently asking him not to upset their patient in the middle of such a delicate procedure, at least not so much as to make her squirm.
Alec returned their looks with a raised eyebrow - it was hardly his fault the girl was being irrational - but, reminding himself that the retrieval of whatever mysterious elixir was housed in her brain was the key to healing everyone, including Demetri, he made an effort to speak calmly and reasonably to her. "That isn't how Jane and I see it. This is our life, and we would have it no other way."
Claire said nothing to that, though her features darkened with disapproval, which for some reason irritated him. What right did she have to judge them, limited as her own experience of the world was compared to theirs, her life thus far barely longer than a fly's when held up against the centuries they had lived?
"I see you disagree," he said coolly, using his free hand to grasp her wrist and place her hand back on the table before moving back a little, out of her reach. "Whatever our lives were before, Jane and I decided long ago that there was no point in clinging to a past that was gone forever, that we would be better off putting it behind us and making the most of the second chance we were given - or do you disapprove of that as well? Are you so convinced of the superiority of the human condition that you believe it would have been better if we had died as humans rather than living on as we are now?"
She didn't respond immediately, taking a moment to mull it over. If she was in that position, she wasn't sure she could accept life as a vampire, even if the alternative was death...but that was more a matter of her personal preference than a blanket judgment that she felt should apply to everyone. After all, she knew some vampires who wouldn't be alive if they hadn't turned, and she definitely wasn't sorry Bella was still around. Then there were ones like Carlisle, who had used his extended lifespan to do so much good that the world was inarguably better off with him in it.
As for Alec and his sister, there was a lot she didn't know about what they had done with their 'second chance', though the fact that they had defended their choice to kill people for their blood seemed like a pretty big strike against them. On the other hand, they had also dedicated themselves to the Volturi's mission to keep the vampire population under control, which might very well have saved many more lives than they had taken, so maybe the numbers still worked out in their favor.
In the end, however, there was no mathematical equation for assigning value to a life, or if there was, she wasn't callous enough to use it; she relied more on her emotions and intuition, which told her there was nothing right about two sixteen-year-old kids dying horrible deaths just because they were different.
"No," she said softly, "I don't think you and Jane should've died. I'm glad you didn't."
Alec's eyes widened ever so slightly - this was the first time a human had expressed any kind of positive feeling regarding his and his twin's survival, and given Claire's previous condemnation of their lifestyle choices, he had almost expected her to voice the opposite opinion - but before he could respond, Carlisle announced that he and Mohinder had completed the extraction.
Sensation immediately flowed back into Claire's body, and she reached up to feel the back of her head. Of course there was nothing there, no breaks in the skin or soft spots in her skull - as far as she could tell, the doctors had even managed not to mess up her hair too badly - which was exactly what she'd expected, though she still felt compelled to ask, "That's it? Did you get it?"
"We did." Mohinder held up a vial full of a reddish substance that Claire supposed must be liquid, though it looked different from any fluid she'd ever seen before, more like light in a semi-tangible form.
"And that's the thing that'll bring the whole cure together, huh?" It was hard to believe such a small amount of liquid, if that was what it was, could be the key to altering something as rigid and immutable as vampire DNA, although it was at least somewhat reassuring that it looked more impressive than ordinary tap water.
"That's the idea." He carefully placed the vial in a test tube rack alongside the other components of his and Carlisle's project. "All we need now is Peter."
###
While the catalyst was being harvested from Claire, Peter had stayed with Bella; she had been more agitated and erratic that day, complaining that her head hurt so much it was getting hard to think, but his presence helped to calm her. When Alice came to tell him that he would be needed in the lab shortly, he reluctantly tore himself away, leaving Bella with Charlie, Elle, Edward, and Emmett (though none of them wanted to say it out loud, it was tacitly understood that the big guy was there in case she needed to be subdued), and went over to the guest house for what he hoped would be a quick, simple procedure.
Of course, nothing was ever as easy as it looked on paper. Although the formula worked perfectly, replicating Peter's unique ability to rearrange his DNA in order to absorb and assimilate new powers proved harder than anticipated.
"In most of your kind, the genetic code is relatively straightforward," Mohinder explained, "a single sequence for a single ability. I've been studying the specific markers that correlate to different powers in the hope that one day, I'll be able to not only identify evolved humans with a simple blood test, but also determine what they'll be capable of before their powers manifest, so that they can prepare themselves..." His voice trailed off as Peter cleared his throat, alerting the geneticist that he had digressed. "Anyway, yours is more complex. Your DNA has undergone so many alterations that it's hard to even begin isolating your primary ability from all the others you've absorbed. Parsing it all out and ensuring that we've tailored the formula to produce the exact results we're hoping for could take days."
"We don't have days," Peter protested, raking a hand through his hair as he racked his brain for some way, any way of speeding things up before Bella's infection progressed too far and the girl he loved was gone forever. At last, a potential solution came to him, along with a sinking feeling in his gut. "If working through all the tangles in my DNA to make sure you're putting the right stuff in your formula will take too long," he said slowly, "what if I just give Bella everything I've got...right from the source?"
Mohinder blinked rapidly, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly a couple of times before hesitantly answering, "If you're suggesting what I think you are, it might work-"
"Absolutely not," Carlisle interrupted, much more decisively. "Letting an infected vampire bite you is out of the question. It's far too dangerous."
"Why, what's the worst that could happen? The cure doesn't work, she infects me, and we both turn into rabid nutcases?"
Although Peter tried to make it sound like a joke, no one in the lab gave so much as a hint of a smile, indicating that that was precisely what they were afraid of - or at least that they weren't willing to discount the possibility.
"Come on, guys, I don't really think that's very likely," he said seriously, dropping the attempt at gallows humor. "I have Claire's ability, and I'll inject myself with the antivirus so it can get into Bella's system at the same time as my blood; I'll be fine."
"Even if you don't get infected," the blonde in question spoke up with a tremor in her voice, "if she bites you...isn't that how people get turned into vampires?" Her gaze darted between the members of that species who were present in the lab, their silence confirming her suspicions, before returning to Peter. "That's not what you want, is it?"
"No," he admitted. Even though it hadn't changed the way he felt about Bella in the slightest, the idea of thirsting for blood, of hunting and killing living creatures with his bare hands to sate that appetite, of fighting against predatory instincts whenever he was around normal people, made his stomach churn. Worse yet, he'd also heard that becoming a vampire heightened whatever attributes and abilities a person possessed as a human; considering that he'd already come close to wiping out the largest city in America, the thought of what he might be capable of with his powers amplified and his mind in the grip of a newborn vampire's volatile impulses was downright terrifying.
The only thing that scared him more was the prospect of eternity without Bella, so he took a deep breath and added, "But if that's the price I have to pay to save her, it's worth it."
Claire made a noise like a hastily stifled sob and threw her arms around him, but Carlisle shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Peter, but it's too great a risk. I can't let you do this."
"I understand," Peter assured him, meeting his sorrowful gaze unwaveringly. "What I suggested probably violates a dozen ethical standards for medical research; no halfway decent doctor would ever sign off on it, and you're more than decent." He paused just long enough for Carlisle to breathe a sigh of relief, his tense posture relaxing, before finishing what he had to say. "But it's not up to you."
With a twitch of his fingers, the syringe containing the combined antivirus and formula for bestowing new abilities shot out of Carlisle's slightly loosened grip and flew across the room. It passed close enough to Alice that she could have tried to grab it, and might have succeeded - but, seeing how firmly her nephew was set on the path he had chosen, she made no attempt to stop it from landing in Peter's outstretched hand.
He caught it easily and, unwrapping his other arm from around Claire, plunged the needle into the first vein he found. Her eyes widened as she watched the plunger depress, pushing the liquid within into his bloodstream, and her arms unconsciously tightened around him as if to prevent him from leaving, to stop him from going through with what he intended.
Rationally, she knew it was a futile gesture, and that she shouldn't want to stop him - after all, his willingness to risk everything for the people he cared for was the very thing she admired most about him, and after her conversation with Alec, she'd been forced to admit that becoming a vampire wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world - but she couldn't help it. Peter wasn't dying, so this wasn't about saving him; it was just another selfless sacrifice that he wouldn't hesitate to make, because he didn't see anything wrong with putting himself in harm's way to help others...but she did. Hero or not, giving up his humanity to save someone else, even the love of his life, seemed like too much to ask of anyone.
As much as she hated to admit it, there was also a more selfish part of her that didn't want to see him changed for her own sake, not when he was the one who made her feel safest among all these strangers and vampires. Although she had been told that the transformation didn't change a person's fundamental nature, she couldn't shake the feeling that if he became one of them, it would feel like losing him.
He looked down into her tear-filled green eyes, reading in them the thorny mess of emotions swirling inside her, and brought his arm back up to give her a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, Claire. I'll be fine." Then he gently pried her loose while shooting a glance at someone behind her, and the next thing she knew Alice's delicate hands were pulling her away, her thin arms locking around her in an iron grip.
"He's right," she murmured, one hand running up and down the former cheerleader's back in an attempt to soothe her. "Everything will be all right."
Claire hadn't spent much time with her great-aunt since her arrival at the Cullens' current domicile - not that she had specifically tried to avoid her, but fulfilling the doctors' constant need for her blood had kept her busy enough that she didn't have much time to socialize, and her discomfort at the idea that the perky vampire was actually related to her, plus her lack of interest in being dressed up, had made her reluctant to use what little free time she did have to seek her out - but now she willingly accepted the smaller woman's cold embrace, and even hugged her back.
Even as she soaked up the comfort of being held, however, even by someone she didn't know too well and wasn't entirely comfortable with, she couldn't help wondering just what her long-lost relative's definition of 'all right' was.
###
Despite the sense of urgency driving him, Peter's feet slowed down seemingly of their own accord once he left the lab, almost as if his body was telling him to savor what might be his last moments as a human - at least until he got closer to the den where he had left Bella and the sound of scuffling and raised voices reached his ears, effectively dissolving the molasses that had enveloped his legs.
Running into the room, he found Edward and Emmett grappling with Bella, pinning her to the floor while she thrashed against their hold and Charlie, who was being held back by Elle, shouted at everyone, alternately demanding that Elle let him go and trying to get Bella's attention.
"What's going on here?!"
"She just lost it," Emmett huffed, pressing a hand over her forehead to immobilize her head and stop her from snapping at him and Edward while they fought to keep her limbs under control.
"She was upset when you left," Edward elaborated, his voice low and tense. "Charlie tried to calm her down, but she suddenly lashed out at him. As you can see, she's not responding to our efforts to deescalate the situation."
"Let me try." Without waiting for an answer, Peter telekinetically pushed Emmett and Edward aside and took their place, straddling Bella so he could pin her legs between his knees while gripping her arms just below the shoulders and using that leverage to keep her flat on the floor. Looking down at her face from this position, he saw that she had taken yet another turn for the worse while he was gone; the area around the bite mark, which he hadn't seen since the day she was bitten due to her swiftly-adopted habit of hiding it underneath her hair, had turned completely black, and now the discoloration was creeping up the underside of her jaw as well, lacing her cheek with fine lines of necrosis. The eye above it had started to change too, the taint coming in at the outer corner and swirling through her sclera like drops of ink mixing with white paint.
Even more disturbing was the fact that, when he reached out to her telepathically, there were no coherent thoughts in her head, just the same whirlpool of agonized delirium he had encountered when he probed Patient Zero's mind. Peter had almost gotten lost in it then, but he didn't hesitate to dive in again, immersing himself in Bella's mind in the hope of finding some buried scrap of lucidity. Come on, I know you're there! Talk to me!
At last, he picked up a faint whisper from somewhere deep inside her head: Peter? What's happening?
I've got the cure; I just need you to hang on a couple more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?
It hurts, was Bella's plaintive reply, but I'll do my best.
That's my girl. Withdrawing from her mind, Peter found that she was no longer fighting him, her eyes fixed on his face. They still held a certain dazed, glassy sheen, but at least she seemed to actually see him now. Taking that as a sign that it was safe to release her, he got off her and helped her up, steadying her until she got her feet under her.
Elle had let Charlie go as soon as Bella stopped flailing, and he hurried over to offer his support as well, his hands hovering nervously for a moment before coming to rest on her shoulders. "Bella, what happened? Are you okay?"
"I think so...for now. It's just getting harder to keep it together," she quietly admitted, one hand coming up to rub her throbbing temple. The pain was all-consuming now, and if Peter hadn't reached into her mind to find it, she was afraid this might have been the moment when her rational self was lost for good.
"I can cure her," Peter said in an equally hushed tone, drawing Charlie's worried gaze to him. "I just need to take her up to her room, if that's okay." Not knowing exactly what would happen when she sank her teeth into him but suspecting it wouldn't be pleasant, he thought he'd rather not have an audience.
Charlie frowned at him, wondering why the cure had to be administered in private, then decided it didn't matter; nothing mattered except saving his daughter, and besides, he had seen enough by now to know he could count on Peter, especially when it came to her welfare. Letting go of Bella, he clapped the younger man on the back. "Take care of her, son."
Peter held his gaze for a second before nodding in acknowledgment and appreciation of the trust Bella's father was placing in him. "I will."
Having given Charlie the best assurance he could, he scooped Bella up in his arms and teleported out.
###
Blinking back into existence in Bella's room - which was actually their room, though he wouldn't refer to it as such in front of Charlie - Peter sat down on the bed, positioning her on his lap while she looked around in apparent bemusement.
"Why'd you bring me here?" she wondered aloud. "Why not give me the cure downstairs?"
"Because it's in my blood." He paused to take a deep breath as her head snapped toward him, bracing himself to tell her, "You'll have to drink it from me."
She was already shaking her head before he finished. "No. No way."
She tried to look away, but he caught her chin and turned her head back. "Bella... Hey, look at me." He tapped her cheek with his fingertips, waiting until she reluctantly lifted her eyes to meet his before going on. "I want to do this."
Her eyes darted from side to side, unable to remain fixed on a single point as she struggled to gather the scattered threads of her thoughts, which only seemed to unravel faster the more she tried to hold on to them. "I can't hurt you."
"I can heal; I'll be fine."
That was true; she knew he had survived much worse than a bite on the neck, though the details were frustratingly fuzzy at the moment, yet there was something else, some other concern nagging at the back of her mind. "If I bite you..."
Her voice trailed off, words failing her before she could articulate why that was such a bad idea; all she knew was that the consequences would be terrible even if they weren't deadly. If only the gnawing pain in her skull would stop just for a minute so she could think...
But Peter didn't give her a minute, instead tightening his hold to make her look him in the eyes again. "Bella, listen to me. It doesn't matter, understand? I need you to get better, and if that means letting you change me, I can live with that. I can give up being human. I can't lose you."
Bella still had her doubts, ill-formed as they were, but when she peered into the dark depths of his eyes she saw none, only certainty and determination.
Holding her gaze all the while, he released his grip on her with one hand and slowly drew his index finger along the side of his neck, opening his veins while suppressing his healing power in order to let the blood flow freely. When he felt it welling up, he moved his other hand to the back of her neck, pressing gently as he guided her head in closer.
His eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of her icy lips on his neck and her cold tongue lapping at the incision, worrying the wound open further as she started drinking...but the chill didn't last long. Soon it began to sting, then to burn.
Peter's arms wrapped tightly around Bella, pulling her with him when he fell back onto the bed and clinging to her as her venom seared its way through his veins.
So, we had some intense discussions of humanity and heroism here...and got to see Nathan's slightly off-kilter take on the latter. I'm sure there's a lesson in here somewhere about not failing to make time for talking things out with your family - if only because, if you have a relative like him, there's no telling what trouble they'll stir up if left unattended.
Happy Halloween, and I'll see you all next month with another new chapter - which will hopefully be finished sooner than this one was.
