AN: So hello everyone! I'd like to tell you that I immensely enjoyed writing this chapter—especially because it enjoyed hilarious Peter Petrelli tidbits, which I love. Ah, that naïve, clueless man. *shakes head* So yes, not a whole heck of a lot of development, but it is coming in the next few chapters, I would like to assure you. So, without further adieu, the chapter! :D

Immolation Chapter 10: Elle

"Sometimes, you just have to find the good in the bad…and sometimes, there is no good in the bad…"

Claire parked her car and sighed, grabbing her book bag and looking at me warily. "Was the homework load…bad?"

I shook my head, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "No."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good."

And before anything else could be said, Elle from the day before was standing before us, eyebrows raised and lips curved into a smirk. "Bella and company. Hello."

I smiled back tightly—her grin unnerved me, for some reason. "Elle. This is Claire."

"Claire Bennet, right?" she asked sweetly. I started—she knew Claire, too?

Claire seemed to have the same thoughts, as her eyes narrowed as she spoke. "Yeah, that's me."

Elle seemed to sense our questions, responding with a roll of her eyes. "Some Lauren bitch told me. Anyway, how are you two?"

I nodded and began to walk, Claire on my right and Elle a few feet to my left. "Claire and I are fine. How about you, Elle?"

She shrugged. "Alright. I'm alive, right?"

I smiled, "You've definitely got a point."

We chatted just a bit as we made our way into the building. Elle left to go to her locker while Claire followed me to mine. "I dunno Bella," she said eventually. "She's…off."

I shut my locker softly. "Off how?"

She shook her head, walking down the hall toward the lower grade section of the school. "I'm not sure how to describe it. I just get a bad feeling."

I smiled again, "I wouldn't worry about it. She's kinda rude, but in an I-don't-mean-it-I'm-always-this-way manner."

She nodded slowly. "If you say so. I'll see you later." She gave me a pointed glance and I turned to see Elle walking toward me. She had that same slight smirk on her face and she walked with such grace that it should be illegal—for a human. We exchanged hellos and walked silently to our next class.

Each period was slow and uneventful, but they did finally pass. Lunch was nothing but awkward, as our table was filled with Elle, Mike, Claire, Lauren, and I. What a mix. I was worried it was so unnatural we were going to spontaneously combust or something—but we made it through semi-unscathed…for a while. I tripped and got a nice gash in my side from the chair, had to go to the nurse to change my bloody shirt, only to find out I also sprained my ankle and would need to see the doctor immediately. It took a lot of begging on my part to stay through the school day, not to mention multiple promises to rush to the hospital afterward.

The rest of school was torture, as I had to simultaneously lean on Claire or Elle and the halls simply to walk, and it only seemed to get worse as my ankle swelled. Eventually, I had to use both Claire and Elle as crutches as we made our way into the building.

And yet, finally, here we were. I was sitting on an uncomfortable paper-bed thing that they gave you as the doctor dawdled his way down, Claire seated next to me. We simply leaned on each other and looked at the floor as Elle left to go get a soda. She turned to me. "There's no way she's any younger than twenty-one!"

I shrugged disinterestedly. I was actually worried about the moment my father would show up scared to death only to find I was perfectly normal and healthy. "I guess."

"You okay Bella?"

If I was being honest, it was an iffy matter. I was focusing on the not so bright topic of my father's reaction to the phone call he was bound to get from the hospital only to distract myself from my uneasiness on other things. Like Claire, I got the weirdest feeling from Elle—as if she was hiding something. And while that was all fine and dandy, I was also still mulling around the whole idea of our local animal attacks being a little more than just that.

Not to mention the thoughts in the back of my mind. What if they are? What if there's a vampire roaming around? I didn't know what to say. There simply weren't any vampires around to protect me this time, and while being with them was the danger in the first place, that fact still disconcerted me. I could only hope it was the friendly nomadic type that came and went rather quickly, and nothing to genuinely worry about. But what if I was wrong? What if it was something more?

Speaking of which, what would something more be, anyway? I had mulled over James's coven being angry and vengeance-seeking, but surely they'd see that the ones who killed him were gone and be on their merry way. And on vampire terms, a week was enough time to sniff around.

And what about the bears Charlie had mentioned? He said there was talk about two of them, as big as our house, roaming the outdoors freely. And while it was plausible that something that big could kill twelve or more in only a week, it was rather absurd to think that something that big actually existed in the first place. So what was going on?

My head hurt, and I rubbed it just in time for the doctor to magically appear. "Something wrong with your head, Bella?" I still wasn't used to the small-town everyone-knows-your-name thing going on.

"No, my ankle and side, sir," I sighed. He instructed Claire to sit on a metal chair in the corner and made me lift my shirt, making my flush down my neck—even though it was apparent that he wasn't the slightest interested in looking at anything but the gash, that didn't mean he—and everyone else here—couldn't see me now bared aside from a bra. And suddenly, Mike Newton himself walked in with all his wonderful timing.

He took one look at me and walked right back out.

I heard Claire laughing and vowed to smack her upside the head first chance I got, but the thought left my mind as a stinging, throbbing pain burned up my ankle and shot through my calf. I yelped and jumped away from him.

"I'm sorry Bella, but I need to see just how bad it is. In fact, we may have to cut your shoe off."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

He shook his head. "Your ankle has swelled quite a bit because you decided to wait so long to come here." He directed a mellow accusatory stare my way for a moment before sighing that he'd be back with some spare scissors. As he left, the doors nearest to us opened, and suddenly I remembered that we were in the ER.

A group of paramedics walked in, and I looked up at the clock, found it seven o'clock—had we been here that long?—and figured they were going to go eat or something. And in the middle, talking with the rest, was a face I definitely recognized.

As Charlie pointed out, I practically lived with them.

I stared in shock, unable to cover myself as his eyes drifted over my way—it just figured someone I knew and had to speak to on a regular basis would see me like this!

III

Elle impatiently sighed and tapped her foot on the ugly linoleum flooring. The little coil moved at the speed of dust as the cupcake crackled in its plastic confinements. Dammit! Why does it take a million decades and a year?

It took another minute and a half for it to drop, but she smiled triumphantly and ripped into the treat as she walked away when it did. She finished it quickly and took a swig of her soda as she made her way back to where Bella was sitting.

Ah, Bella. The clumsy imbecile who didn't know what was gonna hit her. She had her for sure—the only thing she worried about was the girl falling off a building before she could get what she needed out of her. But Daddy would just have to be proud now—she had her roped in two days flat!

She smirked and pushed open the doorway. But when her eyes landed on the scene before her, she faltered in her step. Deciding it best, she ducked behind a curtain and peeked around to watch this little tidbit unfold.

Bella was still sitting where she had left her, only this time she was shirtless. Claire—who she kindly referred to as ditz, among other degrading nicknames—had relocated to a metal chair in the corner and seemed to be engrossed in a magazine. And a man she wasn't sure she knew was bent over in front of Isabella, and damn that's one fine ass.

She cackled only slightly to herself, but shut up as she realized this fish was taken. His hands gently ran up her sides, and Isabella blushed to from her face to her neck, chest, arms…she could earn a million dollars in a blushing contest…she's half tomato or something… She blinked slowly and smiled nervously, shaking her head and saying something Elle could barely make out as, "No, only my side."

He responded and turned his head to see said area—and it hit her like a lightning bolt. Peter Petrelli!

Oh shit! They're involved! Daddy's gonna burst a vessel!

She watched in awe, desperately wishing she had popcorn or something. Her heart fluttered at the thought of the praise she was sure to get with this one. And there was simply no way she'd fuck it up!

His hands lightly touched the area and the girl brought her own to his shoulders, wincing and squeezing. She shook her head and said something to him, and he straightened and nodded, apparently saying something back, as they both laughed. Isabella's blush lightened a shade the moment his hands left her bare skin.

Damn…I can only imagine the front…lucky broad…

His paramedic's uniform was dirty and grungy from a day on the field, and he stripped it off to bend and look at the sprain. Ooh, a man in uniform, she mocked internally, but she had to admit she liked what she saw. And Isabella was a lucky gal—even though she'd probably be killed or tested or locked up soon.

And then, as he gently pried at her shoe, Elle decided the hot parts were over and it was time she stole him away.

III

Peter's touch was a warm, welcome one, even though odd. He was gentle in everything he did, but I felt like I was melting with the heat of my blush—it was too embarrassing. The moment he saw Claire, he knew I was nearby. The moment he saw me, shirtless with a huge gash, he rushed over, leaving his buddies behind. He had frantically asked what happened, and only earned a nervous, "I fell," from me. Claire averted her eyes and my blush intensified to a full-body one as he ran his hands up and down my sides.

And the sensation was…strange, to say the least. They roamed from the hem of my jeans to under my bra, and created something akin to a tickle, but not the kind I wanted to laugh at. Something different. And every time he passed the cut it would sting and burn and I'd wince.

Of course, the look on his face was one of concentration and worry. "Could you have cracked a rib? Is there internal bleeding? Does it hurt anywhere else?" He paused the barrage of questions for me to answer.

I blinked dazedly, that strange warm sensation so foreign and slightly unwelcome as he continued to gently feel for injuries muddling my mind slightly. Man his hands are warm. Or hell, maybe that's the blush… I shook my head slowly, shooting him an odd smile and hoping he'd get the hint. Please stop before I'm the first to literally die of embarrassment…in a hospital no less… "No, only my side."

He let out a sigh. "That's good. Lemme take a look." And before I could protest he was bent over, leaning slightly, his breath on my stomach as he inspected it. I bit my lip and winced, reaching out to his shoulders for something to squeeze as he touched it and pain shot up my side. "They cleaned it, right?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

He frowned at that, but, to my relief, he straightened and moved away. I looked up at him. "You know, you really don't have to do this."

He smiled slightly and nodded. "It's nice to work with someone who I know isn't about to die." I laughed. I might if you keep it up. Is it possible to die from embarrassment? I'm beginning to wonder. He moved down to my ankle and left me just wishing he'd take his hands off me or the doctor would come or—

My prayers were answered. "Bella!" I looked over to see Elle and only had enough time to thank God before he turned on me.

"So, who's the hot date?"

I watched my already unhealthy blush fade to a freakish purple color. Peter's jaw dropped and his head spun around, and I saw Claire's face border on humor and worry as she jumped up and over to us. I looked at Elle and willed all of this to be a dream.

Silently I cursed her, but swallowed and answered in a nearly incomprehensible stutter that was an utter disgrace to the English language. "I—t—uh, he's—no, you've—we…we're not, uh, no, this is—Peter, Claire's…uncle, Peter, not, no, uh, n—not—we're not…"

She laughed but didn't respond, wandering around to Peter's side. She looked him up and down, genuinely checking him out, and ran her hand up his arm. "Got good choice," she nearly purred, smirking up at him, and I resisted the urge to look away for whatever reason.

"Uh," Claire cut in, sensing that neither Peter or I knew what to say. I just wanted to fall straight into the floor and never come out. "Yeah. Doctor's coming," she pointed behind them, and they both turned. He doctor had indeed arrived, and I silently scolded him for his lateness. How long can it take to find a damned pair of scissors?

But he had made it and that was all that mattered. It didn't hurt as he cut my shoe away, but even his barely-there grip on my ankle stung and made me yelp. I gripped the table until my knuckles turned white with strain as he poked and prodded it.

He was muttering to himself. "Probably two to three times the normal size…not broken, thank the almighty…no stitches needed…stint…" He walked away again, but before the awkward silence really had a chance to creep in he was back with a large stick of wood and some wraps. I sighed and prepared for the pain.

When the doctor was done, I was surprised at how much better I felt. The cream on the cut and ice on the ankle had done wonders and I barely noticed the dull throb they made anymore.

Then there was the challenge of walking—which was something I found I was simply unable to do. We decided Claire would help me, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she clutched my waist, but it seemed to be too hard for her. We took four steps and she sighed. "This isn't gonna work. Peter?"

He was by our side immediately, Elle reluctantly following so she could continue to flirt. "Yeah?"

"I don't think I can help Bella. Can you take care of it?"

I honestly didn't mind the idea when it was first suggested—so Peter would help me out to the car and the house, big deal. We had agreed to try Claire's blood once again, since there were left-over syringes from the Nathan incident. But then Peter decided to forgo the typical arm over the shoulder technique and just scoop me up like I was nothing. Again I yelped and instinctively latched onto his neck as the ground slipped from under my feet.

He grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you."

I looked at him, surprised, but the shock faded into embarrassment as the blush spread yet again. I'd rather you did…oh God, look at Elle's face…she's about ready to kill me! Peter, put me down, please please please please please please…

And yet I was the lucky one with the shield, so he had no clue that this was the last thing I wanted as we easily made our way down the halls toward the lobby. You think it'd be closer, but no. Lady Luck loves me to death.

Only because she plans to kill me.

I decided to just fall into a metaphorical black hole and block out everything, allowing Claire to chatter about the day and the various boys who hit on her to Peter. Elle's mood seemed to stay sour as we made our way out and I became almost hyperaware of Peter's arms beneath me. God, why? Why must I be embarrassed everywhere I go? First he walks in and I'm half naked, then he nearly feels me up, and now he's carrying me like…like a bride!

Of course I knew it was wrong of me to think this way and worse for me to blame him. It wasn't his fault I was there, but mine and my attraction for injuries. And then he was simply concerned about his niece's best friend and decided to check out my gash, definitely not feel me up. And then Claire had asked him to take care of me, and surely it was easier for someone with super-strength to just carry someone rather than help them drag their feet slower than the grass grows.

So it was all coincidence mixed with logic, I get that. But those facts didn't take away from the awkwardness and humiliation I felt. Here was Peter, a not quite confirmed friend of mine, obviously giving off the impression we were together! What thing to see! And God, were people seeing it—I could feel them staring as I childishly closed my eyes to just avoid the situation altogether.

Okay, Bella, go over the good things. You didn't have to confront Mike about seeing you half-naked. The hospital had to have forgotten to call Charlie, so no worries there. You're pretty much in the clear—unless you die of embarrassment or Elle gets her hands on you.

I chose that moment to peek over at her, and she wasn't looking at me. There was still a slight frown on her face, but she was quiet as she walked alongside us, a slight frown on her face. She didn't seem to be paying attention to anything. Immediately, thinking of her and remembering my current, rather interesting situation, I thought back to her words.

'So, who's the hot date?'

It was preposterous, to think of Peter and I involved in any way more than the strange slight friendship we had going right now. After all, I was best friends with his niece, and he was eleven years older than me! There was simply no way a man like Peter would want a scrawny teenager like me! And it wasn't like I wanted him that way either—sure I wanted him to like me, even possibly be my friend, but nothing like that!

I looked up at him sheepishly, and I don't think he saw, as he was looking at the doors looming in front of us. It was just…well, the words and the idea wouldn't go away, now that she said it. Of course I knew it was outrageous to think of Peter and I—a couple! As if! And yet, I could somehow almost…picture it in my mind. Maybe it was the idea and his touch, which seemed to be burning me at the moment, but I couldn't shake it.

After all, Elle wasn't wrong when she implied that he was cute—he was amazingly handsome, I'd give him that. And he was funny, too; not to mention sweet and kind and—what the hell was I thinking? To the normal outsider it would look like I actually wanted him that way or something!

I shook my head violently, making him look down at me. "You alright, Bella?" Dammit, no Peter. I'm sitting here actually imagining us together. God, I'm disgusting. You're my best friend's uncle! Oh, throw me in hell right now…and please don't look at me that way.

"Uh, fine," I said quietly, carefully avoiding his eyes—and, well, his face altogether. I looked forward to the window and he seemed to see that I didn't want to speak, so he dropped it. I sighed. I am going crazy. It's official. This is Peter! Peter!

Reassured that I was merely suffering from temporary insanity and surely it would pass the moment he stopped touching me and my lingering mortification wore away, I settled back in his arms…you know, Peter, my offer of you dropping me still stands…