Peter from Heroes and Brooke for One Tree Hill

I pulled on my restraints. God, let me get out of this damn plane. Whatever they had done had left me as dreamy, drugged zombie on the outside but really I was trapped in a room inside my head, looking out a brownish space, light on it. I heard the talking. God someone help!

I pounded on the walls. Anything. Please!

I threw myself at the wall before slumping down. My 'gifts' or 'powers' didn't exactly work. I was blessed with the power of mimicry, I guess like Peter. Except I have to touch the person to get their power. I sighed. Peter. Now he was worth risking my life for. He was my life.

I tried anything. I removed my jumper, throwing it onto the floor and tried to move it with Michel's telekinesis, tried to fry it with Elle's electrokinesis, tried to freeze it with Tracy's power, hell I even tried to use Mohinder's super-damn-strength to rip the damn thing apart. Any power, I tried on the jumper. To know I had them.

Suddenly the room flooded with light.

Peter tore through the woods, away from the crash site. How much would it be worth to have Daphne's damn power? He thought. He kept running before spotting a body obviously fallen from the plane before it had crashed. He paused, did he really want to know whether another person was dead. Another friend? He turned to run before a thought passed through his head. What if this person had actually survived? He turned, approaching the petite orange bundle cautiously. He turned the person over and heard the soft groan. She was alive! He pulled off the hood.

"Brooke?" He whispered, eyes wide. She was meant to be in San Fran visiting a Rachel! Claire's healing powers must have let her survive but that drug was causing the power to weaken with every second. He pulled it and smiled in relief as she gasped out, healing everywhere. He cupped her face, pushing back the brunette hair. Her eyelashes fluttered and the heavy eyelids opened, adjusting to the light.

"My powers…" she gasped out, trailing off.

"Will come back." He smiled, kissing her forehead. He looked around cautiously. "We need to get going."

She pushed herself to her feet, her eyes on him before slumping. He caught her before she hit the floor. He pulled the top half of her shirt off, revealing a tank top so at least she was less obvious in that bright orange. He pulled her into his arms bridal style as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, tickling it.

Brooke groaned as she woke up, stretching. She froze and sat straight up. This was not her place. Hell this wasn't Rachel's. Where ever she was, it looked… motel-ish, that would be the best way to describe it. Strange how motels had their own adjective now. The plain style with a faded colour somewhere they had hoped to brighten the place but made it look tacky. She was in the bedroom, frowning she got up. A pained yell came from the other room. She glanced at a gun on the dressing table, picking it up and keeping it firmly in her grip, pointing it to the floor for the time being.

She opened the door and gasped.

"Mohinder? Matt?" She looked as a man in a chair yelled in pain. Her eyes widened. Claire's dad.

"Brooke." Peter walked over and stood in front of her view.

"Look, Brooke, we can explain." Mohinder told her in his heavy accent.

"So start explaining why you are torturing a man?" She asked, challenging both men.

"Brooke," Peter took her arm and led her into the bedroom again. "Things have changed, we're being hunted. We're the criminals, my brother's behind it. And Bennet is helping him capture us. We need this information."

She almost collapsed onto the bed. He crouched down, hands on her knees.

"Brooke, how did you get from San Francisco to the airplane?" He stared her straight in the eye.

"I don't…" She trailed off as the memories and images assaulted her, flashing fast and she pulled out with a sharp gasp. "I was with Rachel and they broke into her flat, I tried to fight back but they hit me with this dart."

He nodded and she looked at him, realisation covering her face. She took his face into her hands. "What about you? If your brother…" She stared at him, before kissing. "Oh my god! Peter!"

Brooke pulled Peter onto the bed and they laid on the bed, Peter holding her in his arms. She kissed him again, all over his face. "I love you."

"I love you too, Brooke." He murmured, kissing her forehead. His arms tightened around her in a lock. "We're going to get through this. Me and you…"

Brooke smiled as she finished their words. "Against the world."