Chapter: Five--Choice
Notes: Snapshot--a record or view of a particular point in a sequence of events or a continuing process.
Rating: T
A/N: Thoughts? Drop some feedback, R&R ;)
Do you know what your fate is?
And are you trying to shake it?
You're doing your best and
Your best look
You're praying that you make it
"Say (All I Need)" /OneRepublic
It happened far too quickly, or more accurately, it was all too shocking and surreal for him to do anything. And if she didn't come to survive this, he couldn't imagine ever forgiving himself.
If only he wasn't so hell-bent on this mission of his. If only he had told her, 'no, no you can't go.' If only he had been able to stop Sylar before he hurt her so.
He saw her body shift then, and he shot his head up, lifting himself out of the seat.
"She's still asleep, but she will awaken soon enough," Mohinder lay a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder.
He nodded solemnly, and returned to his seat, perched beside the bed where Elle lied. He watched her, her body healing from deadly wounds.
At the moment, Peter and Elle were at Mohinder's apartment, where she had been taken in as Mohinder's patient.
The couple had finally caught up to Sylar, finally cornered him after too many months of his terrorizing massacre. However, all it took was a moment of distraction for the ambush to fall apart. Sylar too had heard the sporadic rumors of Peter's relationship with the ex-company girl, Elle, a petite, pretty blond. Sylar had used this as his advantage, threatening Elle so Peter was terrified for her. Peter actually took a moment out of the fight to plead for her to leave, and this moment Sylar used to throw Peter through a wall.
Elle was Sylar's prime target, and Peter had to agonizingly watch the aching scene of Elle being rendered helpless--almost helpless.
Sylar took her air, crushed her with nonexistent loads of suffocating weight, and Peter stood too slowly from the debris. His mind was fractured as he was plagued with what power he should use, and how to turn Sylar's attention from Elle.
Blood began running from her nose, as she used all her concentration on shocking him, something that caught him off guard a moment.
Peter snapped, and his body bum-rushed into Sylar's, knocking him over completely. Elle's electricity weakened Sylar somewhat, until she fell and doubled over. Her eyes fluttered, and he saw the blood seeping from her head, electricity gone from her.
Peter never thought himself capable of killing, but his inability to think and only feel invalidated his incapacity to kill. He threw a strong fist at Sylar, crushing the bones in his skull, and with Elle's very own electricity, he fried Sylar until the villain was nothing but dust.
With Sylar dead, tears running amuck, Peter picked Elle up gingerly, and took her to Mohinder.
Mohinder took what he could of Peter's blood, with Elle's life supply running dangerously low. Peter had been numb, too numb to speak, and all he had done was stroke her hair until he felt warmth creeping back onto her skin. So she had lied in that bed for two hours, what felt like a lifetime to the guilt-ridden Peter--Elle regaining life, though the process was evidently hard on her system. So he watched her with nerves on edge, more aware than ever just how mortal his Elle was. So mortal.
He was thankful however, that this time around, his blood had worked its miracles on someone he loved.
When she had finally stirred, Peter sat in that chair for another ten minutes before making his mind up about something, and leaving for a good five minutes. Twenty minutes after his return, she finally awoke.
"Hey you," she muttered in a coarse voice.
"Hey," he jumped up, taking her hand in his, "how are you feeling?"
"Hungry," she shrugged half-heartedly.
"Okay, well hold on--"
"I'm kidding Peter, God…" she grinned, taking in a deep breath," food's the last thing on my mind…what exactly happened?"
He looked at her expectant eyes, then back down to her hand which still felt frail.
"Sylar happened, but we got him," he couldn't meet her eyes.
"Oh," she said in a half-whisper," meaning he knocked me out or something, and then you fried him."
He snapped his eyes to her, wondering how she figured it out.
"You're so predictable Peter," she smiled warmly," I know you like the back of my hand."
He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead softly. He lingered there a while, breathing her in, relishing in her warm skin.
Concerned, Elle drew her head up and fingered his chin.
"You okay?"
He met her eyes, keeping silent for a moment before admitting, "I was so scared."
Elle inhaled deeply, gathering her strength to offer him some up, but couldn't find anything to refute his fear.
"Well…" she gulped," you're human. You're bound to get scared once in a while. I'm here now, though."
"I know but," the fear that shown itself to be so vital that day got caught in his throat.
"But…?" Elle prodded him.
"You…you won't always be, Elle," the pained words didn't sound as fearful as the angst strewn across his face at that moment.
Comprehending his implications, Elle looked to her hand, the one Peter was holding in his own.
"Forever is a pretty long time, huh?" she said after several moments of silence.
He only nodded, and although he was the one with the power of empathy, she felt the constraint of all his burdens, fears, and knowledge.
"Good thing I'm pretty healthy, so I'm sure to have a long life expectancy, huh?" she said the best chipper voice she could muster.
He had to laugh at this, because contrary to what she thought of herself, she was the quite the optimist.
"Don't be such a downer, Peter. From what I gather, I just had a life and death experience, and now here I am, awake. Sure, I feel a little out of breath and am strangely compelled to spend the next 24 hours in bed, but aside from that, this has to be one of those so-called miracles!"
He kept a laugh to himself, and just grinned down at her smiling form.
"Marry me," he said abruptly.
If Elle was out of breath before, she surely wasn't going to catch it anytime soon now.
She stared at him wide-eyed, like she was staring at an apparition who had proposed the strangest mission.
She opened her mouth, only to have it close again, and her brows dug into her hairline. Then he reached for his jeans pocket, and pulled out a small velvet ring box.
Still left speechless, Peter kneeled by the bed, and opened the box.
Elle found herself staring at a gold-platinum band, clad with a sparkling diamond. A thin piece of the platinum gold was strewn over the diamond, almost like a small vine.
"Marry me, Elle," he said her name this time, hoping she would answer quickly.
She took her eyes from the ring to Peter, who looked at her anxiously, nervously.
She giggled, in disbelief this was actually happening, and the only answer she could give came in the form of a nod until she finally said the word.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yeah?" Peter broke into his little grin, and he stood, taking the ring from the box.
"Yes," Elle said louder this time, holding out her left hand.
He broke into a complete smile, and before placing the ring on her finger said, "I got it engraved."
She grabbed the ring from his hand and turned to read the inscription when a thought wandered into her mind.
"When did you do this?"
Reluctantly, and with a sheepish grin, he said," about 20 minutes before you woke up."
She clicked her tongue and threw him a look of disappointment." Because I was on the verge of death."
"No, I just--" he racked his brain as to how to explain his reasoning.
"Elle, I have all these powers, and half of them do me no good, and maybe I'd be better off without them. But I don't have a choice--it's something I have to live with. But when it comes to you, I do have a choice, and seeing you so hurt and so close to…"
"To death," she went on for him, "yeah?"
"I made a decision, Elle, and all I could hope was that you agreed with my decision, that your choice was also me. I'm going to hate it sometimes. Hate knowing that I'll lose you one day, and that I'll still be here…"
"But in the meantime, you'll have me. All of me," she finished for him.
He nodded, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. Elle squeezed his hand, and looked back down at the ring.
"For Elle, my spark," she read aloud.
She rolled her eyes at him and said, "You're so corny, but thanks anyway." She grumbled sarcastically.
He chuckled and took the ring to place it on her finger. He settled on the bed, sitting beside her, and whispered in her ear, "No problem."
"And it was either that or, 'For Elle, my Lois Lane'," he said.
She looked up at him, perplexed at the reference.
"It's just something Hiro told me once, you know, about Superman and his Lois Lane?"
She still looked at him, questioningly. He laughed, and well aware that they had at least 24 hours on hands, decided to explain to her the legend of Superman and the love of his life.