(Sequel to "My Cheerleader, My World")
Rating: PG-13 (this may be changed to R later)
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Claire (AU)
Summary: Three years on, and their lives were finally coming together. But happiness is fragile at best, and there are more tests to come for Peter and Claire.
Spoilers: AU after 1.11 Fallout.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, just borrowing. All NBC's and Tim Kring's. Please don't sue!
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to my story "My Cheerleader, My World." This is an AU Paire fic. If you're against this, please do not read it. Also, there are a lot of references in the story to "My Cheerleader, My World", so I suggest you start with that before going onto this fic.
Feedback is love!
Claire and I are irrevocably tied to one another.
Sometimes I catch myself inhaling her perfect beauty as I watch her sleeping so calmly at night. As moonlit beams reflect and shimmer off her tendrils of long, golden hair, I think of all the things that have led me to this specific time and place. So many things had to align for us to meet, not least of which was a message from the future. I hate to even contemplate what my life would have been like if not for Hiro's intervention. "Save the cheerleader, save the world" he had urged, desperation and something else – perhaps the complete loss of hope – locked in his eyes. What had that future Hiro seen that had made him risk so much to travel back in time, just to deliver that important message to me?
Claire had saved my life that day amidst the chaos that Sylar had wreaked. If not for her I would be dead and New York likely scattered as ashes in the wind.
Hiro had mentioned a scar and a time of helplessness before I'd found my purpose. I wonder if I've found my purpose now, after all that we've been through. There were so many of us in the beginning, but only a few remain now. Which is why I cherish each and every day spent with her so much; we all know how fragile life could be, even to such seemingly indestructible beings like us.
I watch her as she breathes steadily, her chest heaving peacefully up and down. I want to reach out and touch her just to make sure she's real; that she's not a part of a perfect dream I had conjured up in my scrambled mind. She's there with me everywhere and always, even when we're apart we're not really never alone. It's strange to think back to a time when we hadn't known each other; strange to think back to when I hadn't known down in the depths of my soul that she was my one and only perfect other.
We met one night in the midst of a war, although I hadn't known it until much later. They were the first steps that had led me to embark down the path that I've ultimately stayed on. She had been just a nameless mission to me, a figment of Isaac's precognition that was a blur of blonde, red and white. A figment that had come vividly to life in a mass of golden curls and sun bronzed skin, a figment that had burst abruptly like a blaze of sunshine into the enveloping darkness of my world.
I had saved her, but she had also saved me. Little did she know, she'd be asked to do it again scarcely three years later.