alwaysenduphere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-01-30 09:59 pm
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-01-30 09:59 pm
Fic: Broken
Title: Broken
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darkmerrick
Word Count: 1345
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers: through season 2.
Disclaimers: I don't own 'em.
Summary: Bob's gone and so is Nathan, leaving Elle and Peter quite broken.
There’s a trail of burnt objects leading him right to her. Black spots on the side of a building, a café with a few incinerated tables, even a telephone pole severed in two by electrical forces. He follows her path of destruction straight to her doorstep. Her doorstep being a $40 a night motel room that’s certainly seen better days and smells a bit like overcooked rice.
He’s been watching her for a couple of days, and he has to admit to himself that he’s a little impressed with the damage she’s created, even though he shouldn’t be, since he’s been the victim of her handiwork a few times himself. But he also knows a bit what she’s feeling, so he thinks just this once he can put the past behind him.
The door’s open, so he walks right in. Surprising her probably isn’t the best idea, considering the moment she sees him, she sends a bolt of lightening his way that could take out the power of a city block or more, but he’s Peter, so he just takes the power, the pain, and heals again. After all, he’s had his share of pain lately.
She cowers in the corner, a porcelain doll without a spine to stand with. Her face seems almost permanently tear-streaked and there are fresh cuts on her arms. Peter, ever the nurse, sets to stopping the bleeding, but she shrinks when he gets to close, sends a little shock his direction.
“Let me help you,” he whispers, reaching out to her.
“Don’t,” her voice trembles, “Don’t pretend like you care now. You didn’t care when you pulled me close to you and knocked down my defenses and you sure as hell don’t care now.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she steels her voice harder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, anyway? You’ve already used me once, come back for round two? Sorry, I’m not feeling up to it today, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”
“Elle…”
“What? Just say it, Peter. Say whatever it is you came to say and get out, so I can get back to my miserable lonely existence and you can get back to your wonderful loving family.”
In the weeks since he’s left Elle’s “care,” he’s found himself missing talking to her, missing trying to figure out what makes her go, missed her. He justified the loss with some form of Stockholm syndrome or something, and did his best to block her out of his mind to save the world yet again. When Nathan appeared, Elle was just a lost thought, and Peter was happily reunited with his loving brother, ready to save the world once again, by his brother’s side. But happiness is fleeting at best, and no one knows that better than Peter. Except at this moment, possibly Elle.
Peter wonders now if she’s ever even known happiness. “I don’t know where you get your information, but my family’s never been wonderful or loving. My father was a bastard, my mother’s a cold-hearted bitch, and my brother…well, he’s just dead.” He spits out the last part, a thousand emotions displayed in those three simple words. “It doesn’t really matter what he was before, now, does it?” He reaches a hand out to her and this time she doesn’t flinch. “You’ve lost someone, I’ve lost someone. Don’t think I don’t know how you feel.”
He picks up a random shirt from the floor and puts pressure on the bleeding gashes on her arm. He doesn’t notice that he’s crying until Elle reaches up to his face and catches a tear with her finger. Her blue eyes meet his brown ones, and he can see that there’s still a storm raging within them.
It’d taken him several weeks just to build the courage to go out in public, not wanting to meet the public’s questions about his brother’s death, but he’d finally managed bit by bit. One of the first pieces of information he’d discovered once he started investigating Nathan’s shooter was of Bob’s death at the hands of Noah Bennett. And then Elle had come streaming back into his consciousness, her bright face planted in his mind. He’d had Molly track her down for him, and discovered on arrival that Elle had been making quite the nuisance around, to say the least.
“He was all I had, Peter, and he wasn’t even much. I mean, if it weren’t for him, wouldn’t I have had a normal childhood, couldn’t I have had friends and boyfriends like a normal girl? Oh, wait. There’s just that one thing that would get in the way.” A strong current passes into Peter, but he takes it and continues to try and stop the bleeding. She jerks her arm away, little drops of blood spattering on Peter’s hands. “Leave me alone. I’m done.”
He doesn’t know why he’s trying to help her, why he even cares. After all, she did assist in keeping him locked up for the better part of three months, kept him from enjoying what would’ve been the last months with his brother. But some part of him understands what she’s feeling, knows how powerful loss can be. Anger overtakes him then, anger at his mother for her part in Nathan’s death, anger at himself for not recognizing Adam’s lies, anger at the world for taking away his beloved brother.
He stares at her for a moment, doing his best to control himself, but failing quickly. “You think I don’t know what it’s like? That I don’t know how you feel? Nathan was my brother, my best friend, my lover.” Elle’s eyes widen. “What was Bob to you? A paternal figure that constantly reprimanded you, nagged you, until you decided that no matter what you did, you’d never be good enough? Trust me, it’s not worth hurting yourself over. I lived that life until the day my father died, and in some ways I still am. Or at least I was, with Nathan around. I don’t know what kind of life I’m gonna lead now. But I’m forced to lead one.”
He picks up the discarded bloody scissors she’s left in her wake, runs one of the dull blades vertically down his wrist. “I’ve tried it enough times, you know. And no matter what I do, I’m cursed with invincibility. I’m not going to join my brother on my own terms, so what’s left to do but live on like he’d want me to.” The blood rushes from the gash, mixes with Elle’s blood all around her, but just as quickly as the cut was made, it heals. “After all, this way all I have to look forward to is watching blood dry.”
Elle just stares at him, her blue eyes filled with tears. She’s growing paler by the minute, and Peter knows that if he doesn’t do something soon, he risks losing her forever. “Please, Elle. I’m sorry for the way I treated you before, but I had to get to Nathan. And I’m glad I did, glad I got those last…moments with him. But Elle, I’m alone now. You’re alone now. I’m trying to find a way to help us both move on, help us not be alone. Together. You see?” He reaches out to her again, and this time she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil, and instead sags into his arms sobbing.
“I don’t know what to do, Peter. I don’t know how to live outside the Company, outside Daddy.” The tears flow from her eyes like a river and mingle with the small pools of blood below.
“That’s what I’m here for. I don’t know how to live without Nathan either, but I think together, we can figure it out. Now, let me help you?”
Her pale face looks up and meets his tear-stained one, and she nods. Peter gathers her up, careful of her arms, and takes her to the hospital. He hopes he’s saved her in time, hopes he’s rescued his only way of being saved himself.
Author:
darkmerrickWord Count: 1345
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elle
Spoilers: through season 2.
Disclaimers: I don't own 'em.
Summary: Bob's gone and so is Nathan, leaving Elle and Peter quite broken.
There’s a trail of burnt objects leading him right to her. Black spots on the side of a building, a café with a few incinerated tables, even a telephone pole severed in two by electrical forces. He follows her path of destruction straight to her doorstep. Her doorstep being a $40 a night motel room that’s certainly seen better days and smells a bit like overcooked rice.
He’s been watching her for a couple of days, and he has to admit to himself that he’s a little impressed with the damage she’s created, even though he shouldn’t be, since he’s been the victim of her handiwork a few times himself. But he also knows a bit what she’s feeling, so he thinks just this once he can put the past behind him.
The door’s open, so he walks right in. Surprising her probably isn’t the best idea, considering the moment she sees him, she sends a bolt of lightening his way that could take out the power of a city block or more, but he’s Peter, so he just takes the power, the pain, and heals again. After all, he’s had his share of pain lately.
She cowers in the corner, a porcelain doll without a spine to stand with. Her face seems almost permanently tear-streaked and there are fresh cuts on her arms. Peter, ever the nurse, sets to stopping the bleeding, but she shrinks when he gets to close, sends a little shock his direction.
“Let me help you,” he whispers, reaching out to her.
“Don’t,” her voice trembles, “Don’t pretend like you care now. You didn’t care when you pulled me close to you and knocked down my defenses and you sure as hell don’t care now.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she steels her voice harder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, anyway? You’ve already used me once, come back for round two? Sorry, I’m not feeling up to it today, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”
“Elle…”
“What? Just say it, Peter. Say whatever it is you came to say and get out, so I can get back to my miserable lonely existence and you can get back to your wonderful loving family.”
In the weeks since he’s left Elle’s “care,” he’s found himself missing talking to her, missing trying to figure out what makes her go, missed her. He justified the loss with some form of Stockholm syndrome or something, and did his best to block her out of his mind to save the world yet again. When Nathan appeared, Elle was just a lost thought, and Peter was happily reunited with his loving brother, ready to save the world once again, by his brother’s side. But happiness is fleeting at best, and no one knows that better than Peter. Except at this moment, possibly Elle.
Peter wonders now if she’s ever even known happiness. “I don’t know where you get your information, but my family’s never been wonderful or loving. My father was a bastard, my mother’s a cold-hearted bitch, and my brother…well, he’s just dead.” He spits out the last part, a thousand emotions displayed in those three simple words. “It doesn’t really matter what he was before, now, does it?” He reaches a hand out to her and this time she doesn’t flinch. “You’ve lost someone, I’ve lost someone. Don’t think I don’t know how you feel.”
He picks up a random shirt from the floor and puts pressure on the bleeding gashes on her arm. He doesn’t notice that he’s crying until Elle reaches up to his face and catches a tear with her finger. Her blue eyes meet his brown ones, and he can see that there’s still a storm raging within them.
It’d taken him several weeks just to build the courage to go out in public, not wanting to meet the public’s questions about his brother’s death, but he’d finally managed bit by bit. One of the first pieces of information he’d discovered once he started investigating Nathan’s shooter was of Bob’s death at the hands of Noah Bennett. And then Elle had come streaming back into his consciousness, her bright face planted in his mind. He’d had Molly track her down for him, and discovered on arrival that Elle had been making quite the nuisance around, to say the least.
“He was all I had, Peter, and he wasn’t even much. I mean, if it weren’t for him, wouldn’t I have had a normal childhood, couldn’t I have had friends and boyfriends like a normal girl? Oh, wait. There’s just that one thing that would get in the way.” A strong current passes into Peter, but he takes it and continues to try and stop the bleeding. She jerks her arm away, little drops of blood spattering on Peter’s hands. “Leave me alone. I’m done.”
He doesn’t know why he’s trying to help her, why he even cares. After all, she did assist in keeping him locked up for the better part of three months, kept him from enjoying what would’ve been the last months with his brother. But some part of him understands what she’s feeling, knows how powerful loss can be. Anger overtakes him then, anger at his mother for her part in Nathan’s death, anger at himself for not recognizing Adam’s lies, anger at the world for taking away his beloved brother.
He stares at her for a moment, doing his best to control himself, but failing quickly. “You think I don’t know what it’s like? That I don’t know how you feel? Nathan was my brother, my best friend, my lover.” Elle’s eyes widen. “What was Bob to you? A paternal figure that constantly reprimanded you, nagged you, until you decided that no matter what you did, you’d never be good enough? Trust me, it’s not worth hurting yourself over. I lived that life until the day my father died, and in some ways I still am. Or at least I was, with Nathan around. I don’t know what kind of life I’m gonna lead now. But I’m forced to lead one.”
He picks up the discarded bloody scissors she’s left in her wake, runs one of the dull blades vertically down his wrist. “I’ve tried it enough times, you know. And no matter what I do, I’m cursed with invincibility. I’m not going to join my brother on my own terms, so what’s left to do but live on like he’d want me to.” The blood rushes from the gash, mixes with Elle’s blood all around her, but just as quickly as the cut was made, it heals. “After all, this way all I have to look forward to is watching blood dry.”
Elle just stares at him, her blue eyes filled with tears. She’s growing paler by the minute, and Peter knows that if he doesn’t do something soon, he risks losing her forever. “Please, Elle. I’m sorry for the way I treated you before, but I had to get to Nathan. And I’m glad I did, glad I got those last…moments with him. But Elle, I’m alone now. You’re alone now. I’m trying to find a way to help us both move on, help us not be alone. Together. You see?” He reaches out to her again, and this time she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil, and instead sags into his arms sobbing.
“I don’t know what to do, Peter. I don’t know how to live outside the Company, outside Daddy.” The tears flow from her eyes like a river and mingle with the small pools of blood below.
“That’s what I’m here for. I don’t know how to live without Nathan either, but I think together, we can figure it out. Now, let me help you?”
Her pale face looks up and meets his tear-stained one, and she nods. Peter gathers her up, careful of her arms, and takes her to the hospital. He hopes he’s saved her in time, hopes he’s rescued his only way of being saved himself.
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I love the way you put them together in this fic, connected in their loss. Connected in their suffering and Peter being the strong one!
I can totally see him trying to help her. It's just who he is!
And Elle, she really knows nothing of life outside the Company.
Things wont go her way out there.
Wonderful job!!
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I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks!
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Great job.
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