Fic: Salvation (3/?)

[alwaysenduphere]

Title: Salvation
Author: darkmerrick 
Word Count: 740
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Peter and Elle
Spoilers: Five Years Gone Universe
Disclaimers:the writers should get what they deserve.
A/n: It's so much easier for me to write Peter, but I wanted this story to have both perspectives, so this is part of Elle's...part. It's shorter than the other parts. Story's shaping up to be about 5 parts, but I don't wanna say that for sure just yet.

part 1

part 2

Elle’s not surprised when he comes to the right conclusion. She’s a little surprised it took him this long. Seeing the type of man he’s become, its apparent death is on his mind quite frequently. She still can’t seem to get over how different this Peter Petrelli is from the one in the files, from the Peter her father told her to stay away from.

She spent hours a day reading the Company’s files; she didn’t have very much in ways of entertainment, caged like a dog in a little cell. Peter’s file was the most interesting, his ability to absorb powers like a sponge fascinating to her. She’d spent many nights imagining him being near her and picking up her power, watching him kill people with her ability. She’s bitter about it now, bitter about what her father did to her and kept from her, how he manipulated her into thinking there was nothing wrong with killing. But that’s in the past and she can’t change what she’s been made to do. Life handed her lemons but the Company kept her away from the juicer.

“I wouldn’t ask just anyone to kill me,” she smiles at him. She can’t help but admit to herself that the scar on his rugged face makes him even more attractive to her. She’d been smitten for the boy in the photo with the floppy hair and puppy dog eyes, wanting him to be her own little puppy, but this man she’s finally found in his place, he was something else; something better, she hopes.

Hope. Now there is something Elle hasn’t seen in awhile. Since her departure from the Company a few years ago, it’s been one rough streak after another, leading her to try and find Peter, the first good luck she’s had in a long time.

She can see the uneasiness in his eyes, the struggle to accept her casual invitation for euthanasia. She wants to tease him, remind him of the noble Peter he once was. That Peter would’ve protested the idea with his dying breath, while this Peter took the time to consider the suggestion. But teasing isn’t what she does anymore. That’s the Elle of old, the take-no-prisoners, destroy everything in the way, Company-owned Elle.

It’s ironic, she thinks, surveying the man in front of her. They’ve reversed roles, almost. Old Peter cared too much about everything, thought he could change the world and got used for his ideas, and now he’s a hardened shell of that man: wise, cautious, guarded and practical. Old Elle knew her place in the world; she was cold, calculating and no-nonsense: now she’s been beaten and used so many times for caring about the wrong things, some days it’s hard to find which way is up. Five years isn’t all that’s gone, in her opinion.

She remembers a time when things were still good, when Daddy was still alive. They had a shaky relationship at times, she’ll admit, because nothing she did was ever good enough for him. But she always wanted to please him, because he was her Daddy. Then there was the explosion and the Company went into overdrive, trying to find Sylar, too little too late. People started failing, heads started rolling, literally and figuratively, and things fell apart, with Elle trapped in the thick of it. She couldn’t leave Daddy, didn’t want to, but in the end he’d made her, knowing that the only way to protect her was to get her as far away from the mess he and his colleagues had made. At least that’s what he’d told her. She always suspected it was because she couldn’t help in the end.

And in the end, where’d it gotten her? Roaming the streets, getting abused and ridiculed, losing her wits a little bit at a time? She shakes her head. Thanks, Daddy.

“It’s not a good idea,” Peter finally says, “There’s got to be some other way.” It breaks her concentration, her stoic disposition. She figured he’d finally accept her proposition, so that he’d be alone once again. The surprise she has at his initial denial is blatant to Peter, and he continues. “What? Did you just expect to waltz in here, all dressed up, act like you know me, and expect me to bow to your every whim?” His face darkens as the anger builds up within him. “I’m not your pawn. I’m nobody’s pawn.”

**

Next