A Note From Lara: (which contains huge spoilers) Okay, so I was completely horrified that they killed of Daphne in "Cold Snap." Here's my"deleted scene". Read this as a ship fic if you want. It's kind of intended as such, since I love the idea of my two favorite heroes together, but if you don't want to read it all shippy, I think I've left it vague enough that you can manage that.

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He streaks across the deserts of the American southwest, the parched land blurring past far beneath him. His heart is racing even faster than his flight, if that's possible. Prayers tumble near-silently from his lips that he won't be too late. The vial clutched is clutched in his hand so tightly that he has to force himself to loosen his grip, lest he shatter the glass and loose the precious contents.

As he passes over Illinois, shooting northward toward the hospital- the same hospital, ironically, that he used to work for before this whole nightmare began- Peter thinks back to that moment, barely an hour ago, when Angela told him what she'd dreamed just the night before. The speedster, Hiro's "Nemesis," lying in a hospital bed, the heart monitor flatlining. She wasn't sure of the time, she said, but it was sometime tonight.

Peter doesn't know what they'll do without Daphne. He's only met her once or twice, but her quirky sense of humor and her unnerving way of getting straight to the heart of things is inspiring. She might just be the only one with the spirit to get them through this hellish manhunt.

Two minutes later, he has arrived at the hospital, soaring past the windows, peering in each one as he passes, searching desperately for the one he most hopes to see. Finally, he catches sight of Parkman and Mohinder's retreating backs as the two men exit one of the rooms. Suresh's arm is around Matt's shoulder, and the erstwhile cop seems somehow diminished in size, as if a great weight has fallen onto his shoulders. Peter immediately sees why. In the center of the room, a small form has been covered by a sheet.

The door latch snicks shut as Peter throws open the window. He crosses the room. Peers down at the crisp white sheet pulled over the speedster blonde. Laying a hand on the linen, he pulls it back and peers into the frighteningly pale face beneath it. Her usually spiky hair lies limp on the pillow, and her vibrant eyes are closed, the lids turning blue. He closes his own eyes for a moment, fighting the tears that won't come anyway.

After a moment of silence, he remembers the vial. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a syringe, and sticks it through the thin plastic cover that seals the vial of Claire's precious blood. Drawing in a full dose of the viscous red liquid, he examines the needle for a moment before plunging it into a vein on Daphne's arm.

He is aware of the sound of the heart monitor suddenly spiking back into life. A sudden loud beep and the sound of an alarm let him know that her heart has restarted. But he doesn't lift his eyes from her until her warm brown eyes flutter open. Color floods into her face, and she draws a shuddering breath. A tiny smile creases her lips, invoking an answering crooked grin from him. It's a smile he hasn't shown in a long time- that same, innocent smile he knows once covered his face daily. Before Kirby Plaza, before Adam and Arthur and Danko... But now it's back, settling across his lips as if it never left.

Daphne opens her mouth. "Matt?" she asks groggily. Peter's heart sinks.

The sound of the alarms has brought doctors and nurses flooding into the room. They examine Daphne carefully, but can find no trace either of the bullet wound or the infection that has raged through her tiny body for days.

After a few minutes, Parkman and Suresh are allowed into the room again. Immediately, Daphne flings her arms around Matt's neck, clutching him just as he clings to her as if his life depended on it.

And outside the window, unnoticed by both doctors and heroes in the darkness, a slim figure floats, watching the reunion with a grim face.