Heroes Fan Fiction ❯ Playing Minerva ❯ Justice, The Chariot, The Lovers ( Chapter 4 )

Spoilers: 01x11, "Fallout", AU after that, does not take “Distractions” in account
Warnings: time-travel, memory jumps, implied underage themes

 

Playing Minerva

Justice - The bright red sky symbolizes her rising strength and power of her righteousness.

The Chariot - A ruthless determined warrior in blue armor stands erect and alert to impending danger

The Lovers - The two lovers are together yet remain emotionally apart.

The Witches Tarot, VI, VII, VIII of the Major Arcana

---

Chapter Three: Justice, The Chariot, The Lovers

Every time Claire brushed her arm against Peter's, she felt a flood of warmth electrify her senses. Peter, on the other hand, made a strong effort to keep focused without ever meeting her eyes. Claire could see he was hiding something, and he swallowed uncomfortably as she made every motion to brush against him.

Finally, Claire gave up - for now - on getting a reaction out of him, and she sighed audibly as they trudged along in the Texas grassland, heading toward to the location of the abandoned shack.

Although, it was going to be difficult enough staying the night in some shack alone with Peter, and she inwardly chided herself for having such ideas.

`He's not even the right Peter - he's the Peter from the future,' she thought, reminding herself. And whether or not she accepted t hat, Claire easily forgot her thoughts as she watched his hair lightly flutter over his smooth olive jaw. Groaning inwardly, her mind began to wrestle between her obvious crush and her sensible maturing mind.

“I can see it just ahead,” he said with a hopeful voice, jarring her out of her thoughts.

She made a noncommittal noise beside him and continued to stare at the moving grassy ground beneath her feet. She glanced ahead for a moment, seeing only a mesh of unsaturated hues around the blurred shack in the distance. Squinting, she swore she saw movement, and her knee-jerk reaction was to grab a hold of Peter's arm.

She heard him sigh as she pulled him back, and he began to speak chidingly to her, “Claire, we need to talk about..."

“Shh!” she commanded, putting a hand over his mouth. She shook off the feeling of his lips against her fingers and focused on the current situation. She pulled him back to hide behind towering bushes, and she looked him sternly in the eye. She hissed at him barely above a whisper. “Be quiet! I think I saw people at that shack.”

Peter gave her a quizzical look and said, “But it was abandoned…”

“Dummy! Remember how I told you I was being followed?” He nodded, a little surprised she called him a `dummy'. “Well, the black van that was ramming into the bus had disappeared after the crash.” She took a cautious peek at the shack, and then met his gaze again. “It seems like they're still looking for me.” She looked around, and her chest hurt as she tried not to panic. “They must have been watching for me after the cops came to the scene. They probably knew I would run off and not want to be spotted.”

“So they think you're going to find shelter for the night,” Peter said, finally understanding her. He put his hands on her shoulders in a protective stance and turned his head to survey the shack again. “This must be the only place you could possibly go within distance of the crash and in that amount of time.”

Claire nodded with a fierce look on her face. Instinctively, she leaned into Peter's protective warmth. They both paused, caught in the moment and unsure on what to do next. Anxiety heightened, and the voices sounded louder as Claire's pursuers' began to spread a wider search.

“I'm so sick of running,” she said in a low voice, and Peter could feel the pain and frustration emanating from her.

“Claire... I know this is not what you're used to, but it's only going to get tougher.”

“Don't tell me that!” she hissed at him, backing away. “I don't mean just the running just these past few days. I mean the running from who I am.” Her voice began to get louder from her anger, and he rubbed her shoulders to soothe her down. She lifted her chin and gave him a hard stare. “You're right, Peter. You're right.”

He looked at her confused, not sure exactly what she meant. “Claire... I.”

She withdrew from his embrace and stepped back. Her jaw tightened, and she dug her heels in the dirt. “I'm tired of running from my powers. I'm tired of needing to be saved.” Peter looked at her dumbfounded and she added, “No offense.”

“What are we going to do, then?”

“We are going to do nothing. I, on the other hand, am going to send them away.”

“Claire no!” Peter said, almost in a scream, and Claire shushed him again to not blow their cover. His hands were on her shoulders again and he leaned in close to her face and gave her a warning look. “You don't need to do this alone.”

“I can, and I will.” Claire smiled and shook her head. She put her hands over Peter's and gave them a quick squeeze. “Look, you can't be seen in this time, right? I can't risk them finding you. They're my father's people, and of course he's researched you by now so you can't afford to have his men see you. Your current self will be in danger. Trust me on this, Peter.”

“Claire…I can't agree to it. It'll put you in danger. I can't imagine what this event will do to time and space…” She stopped him before he could talk her out of it anymore and she gave him a reassuring look. “This time… I'll protect both of us.” She paused, and she waited for him to agree. Hesitantly, he nodded once and a smile erupted on her face.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Tell me about the terrain around the shack. Is there any place for cover, anything I should be aware of before I go blazing in there smashin' `em up?”

Peter gave her a crooked grin and then said, “Well, there's a lot of trees in front, but as you go toward the back, it goes down hill. I think even part of the foundation of the place starts to drop off.”

“Like a ravine?”

“Yeah.”

Claire got a calculated look on her face, one that Peter began to question.

“Claire… whatever you decide to do, you need to be careful,” he said cautioning her.

She cocked her head at him and put a bold hand on his cheek. “I know. Just stop worrying.” He froze to her touch and locked with her eyes. “You're going to help me too.”

“How? Without being seen?” Claire nodded right away.

“Can you cause a distraction or something? Maybe you can do something with those time powers?”

Peter shook his head, and Claire bit her lip. “I'm sorry, Claire. I'm just testing out these powers. I have barely any control of them.”

Claire nodded sharply and said, “Okay, then, throwing rocks will have to do.”

Peter sighed, and then he watched the strain of emotion on her face.

`I have to do this,' she said, inwardly encouraging herself. `I'm good at this. I'm not just a cheerleader to be saved.'

Peter's attention snapped on her as she bolted to the scene. At first, it was a wonder she didn't grab her pursuers' attentions right away, but then as she jumped and jabbed some of them quickly as she ran, people started scrambling toward her. Peter's ears perked when he heard warning shots, and he heard a feminine squeal. He looked over to her position with worry, and he stopped himself before he made a move.

`Trust me, Peter.' He remembered her word, and he was going to trust in her - even if leaving her in there by herself was tearing him up inside.

Then Claire yelled, “You've got me okay? This is what you want? You want to take me back to my father?”

The lead commander came in front of his soldiers and approached her cautiously with a hand out. “Now Ms. Bennett, it's time to go back home your father. He's waiting at home, and once you get there, he'll take care of you. He won't hurt you.”

“Oh yeah?” She stood before the precipice behind her and clenched her jaw. “He'll just try to erase my memories just like before! I don't buy it! I'm not going back with you.” Her father's men were silent, and their attention followed her eyes to the ravine. Everyone stopped in their tracks and Claire gambled. She knew her father must have instructed these people only to catch her, not kill her. She wondered how protective her father was and whether he would freely disclose the nature of her powers to his underlings.

It was a gamble she had to take.

“I'll jump! I'd rather die than go back!”

“Now Ms. Bennett…please...” The leading officer was definitely worried that she'd fall down that ravine and get hurt. It was obvious he didn't know about her `condition'. Claire saw slow movement begin to encircle her, and she was sure people were going to try and pounce on her before she could jump.

Peter watched with intensity, and even though these people didn't know that they couldn't hurt Claire, he certainly didn't want them to catch her and take her back! That would throw the entire time line off.

He looked to Claire, and she seemed to be hesitant and nervous, watching the commander as he spoke to her and trying to watch what the others were doing at the same time. Peter knew she could take them all on if they lunged at her.

It was his turn to react. Claire was definitely in trouble.

Buried in his thoughts, Claire screamed, and there was a scramble of people running toward her. Peter knew that he'd never make it to her in time to save her - he was too far away. But he wanted to save her - with all his might, but Claire wouldn't have it, and she wanted to protect his identity from these dangerous people on her own.

Peter knew Claire was strong. Claire was Claire, and no matter if she was future-Claire or past-Claire, she was still his Claire, and if he didn't protect her now, then protecting her back when they first met would be meaningless.

If he didn't protect her now, there would be no future Claire. There would be no his Claire, and Peter was sure if he missed his chance now, that her father would erase her memories - and he erase everything he had grown to know and love about her.

He wondered - what would a future be without Peter and Claire - together?

So Peter shut his eyes in pain - oh, the worst pain he has ever felt - and the screaming stopped, Claire's fear froze, and the cold night air became colder, and the world seemed to slide into stasis.

Peter felt a pinch in his gut, his innards rejecting the moment, and he opened his eyes and gasped for breath.

Time had stopped.

Peter looked around, hesitantly, watching as things were colored gray and inert. The people who were after Claire were caught in a snapshot, and even Claire had stopped, her face contorted in fear and hopelessness.

Peter smiled, took a deep breath, and ran to her. He laughed a little, his excitement growing, and as he wrapped his arms around a time-frozen Claire, he pulled her out of the way and thought of a warm future where Claire was never away from his embrace. Closing his eyes again, he heard a `pop' and he and Claire were back in their hiding place, and the people that were lunging for Claire, were now grasping for nothing.

Time warmed up again, and the people's voices returned. The cold breezed against his skin, and he muffled Claire's scream against his chest. He felt her shiver, almost jump from his arms, and then look up at him in wonder. He couldn't help the smarmy, assured smirk that had enveloped his mouth.

“Peter...?”

Screams rang out, and Peter and Claire quickly looked to the shack where the people had lunged at Claire. Given their momentum, without grabbing Claire back, all people but one darted off the edge of the ravine. The lonely survivor looked down as his commander and comrades fell down the precipice, bellowing in agony as bones and bodies were snapped and crushed on the tumble down.

Horrified, Claire looked away, and Peter held her tightly as she wept against his chest. He heard the last survivor of the group radio into a higher commander, asking for medical assistance and a pick up at their location.

“Oh my God, Peter. Did we… did those people die?” Claire had seen more of her share of dead people that day, and it hit her again that she was the cause of it. Peter looked at her sadly and grasped her tightly.

“Shh... Claire, it's not your fault. You were just protecting yourself.”

“And you?” She looked at him, desperate for any of his wisdom on the event.

He cupped her jaw and looked at her with hope. “I was protecting our future.”

And Claire was speechless, and a warm shiver ran throughout her body. She licked her lips and tried so hard to stay grounded. But she couldn't, and she felt faint and leaned against him, her hero - always.

“Let's go. We can't stick around here if they're calling for backup.”

“But where can we go? I thought this was the last place for shelter.”

Peter looked ahead to the ravine knowingly and replied, “There's somewhere else, but we're going to have to go beyond that shack to get there.”

Claire gasped. “No good. That person will see us. Besides... at the bottom of the ravine...” She swallowed, shut her tightly, and tried not to imagine the people's contorted faces of death at the bottom.

Peter was silent, but then he said with confidence, “I think… I think I can bend us there.”

“Bend?”

“Yeah... bend time and space...only this would be space.”

Claire shook her head. “But I thought you didn't have a grasp of it.”

He gave her a confident look and lifted his chin this time. “I think I got it this time.”

Claire nodded slowly and then huffed. “You're sure confident of yourself, aren't you?”

Peter didn't say anything, and as Claire still clung to him, he rocked into her playfully and gave her a coy smile. He watched with inward satisfaction as her face flushed from the intimate motion. He gripped his arms tighter around her waist and then bent down to her ear. “Ready?” he whispered. But Claire was so shocked she could only nod meekly against him.

Suddenly, they were both snagged in a sticky, suffocating sort of bubble, and snapped like a rubber band across a reality they had never fathomed.

--

“Well, this is homey,” Claire said sardonically as she surveyed the small cavern. Their new, temporary shelter was small, with a small cavern carved into the ravine far from the shack by a long winding river.

“I'm just glad there are no bats,” Peter said in skittishness, and Claire laughed at him.

“Big strong Super Boy scared of a little bat.”

Peter huffed at her. “Okay, country gal, don't tell me there's nothing you're afraid of.”

Claire smiled sheepishly and then said, “Oh, the usual, spiders, lying fathers, and raping quarterbacks. Normal things any country gal would shriek at.”

The humor stopped when she saw the color drain from Peter's face, and he looked at her chidingly. “Don't joke about that Claire, gees.”

“Hn,” she harrumphed, rolling her eyes. “So the future-me told you about that incident in high school.” She looked over at him, and his dark eyes seem to blanket her with protectiveness. She looked away and rolled her long sleeves over her hands. “I bet you were pretty shocked.”

“Yes,” he answered in a sharp breath, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation. “It was a horrible event.”

Claire nodded, only to have them submerge in awkward silence. Peter poked randomly at the unsuccessful fire he was making out of damp twigs and moss. He swore under his breath as the fire died out for the third time.

“Here, city boy,” Claire said, grabbing some paper from her bag and crumpling it up over the fire. She threw in the hair from her hair brush, and then lit the paper with a lighter. The flame ignited through the hair and paper, and soon the heat and ash began to dry up the moss and twigs underneath. The fire became steady, and Peter watched Claire as she stared at the fire.

“I would have smashed his face in, you know, if I was there,” Peter said, breaking through the silence.

“My father?”

“No, the quarterback,” Peter said, smirking awkwardly at her, and she rewarded him with an appreciative smile.

She shook her head and then hugged her knees. “I wouldn't have wanted you to do that. It's not how I know you to be.”

Peter smiled, entranced by the reflection of the fire on her bronzed skin. She lifted her eyes from the fire to his. He asked, “So how do you, the past-Claire, know me to be?”

She licked her lips and inhaled a draught of breath. “Well, I know you to be kind, selfless, and you put your own safety before others. You're a nice guy, the one that doesn't always win, but never loses. You're the guy that everyone expects to save a party from doomed silence, but one no expects to fly miles across the country to save a stranger.” She paused, and then cocked her head and smiled at him lovingly. “To me, you're the last man born pure of heart - the man I would trust before my own father.”

Peter could see tears in her eyes now, and she frantically wiped them away, diverting her attention back to the fire. She hugged herself as her body felt a chill - not from the cold, but from the stress of betrayal that weighed heavily upon her heart. She hadn't had time to deal with it - to let the feelings come out, to really see the pain from an open wound caused by a man she had trusted her whole life.

Peter slid over to her, slowly closing the gap between them and then taking her into his arms. She cried against him, and he was silent, rubbing her arms soothingly and offering his warmth.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she looked up shyly as she noticed her lips were so close to his chin now.

“It's okay; you can let it all out now,” he said, and although she knew he was just comforting her, desire burned within her, and with his soothing touches and comforting whispers, she felt so completely full and she longed to give him more than he could ever want from her.

As a stranger, he had saved her.

As a time-traveler, he had saved her. Again.

He was more than human, and he made her believe in angels. He made her believe in herself, and the day her father betrayed her, she knew she had one other person she could fall back on - and it was him.

And he needed much more of a reward than just saving a life or helping a girl grow into her own powers.

She had to give him more.

She bent down to his chin and placed a feather-light kiss there, and she repeated, “Thank you.” Peter froze, but he didn't push her aside as she snuggled into him, her body heat surrounding him and pushing him for more.

“Claire... I...” She didn't respond and he said nothing more, and some otherworldly gravity drew them into each other, his lips melting into hers.

The moment their lips touched, Fate was fierce, forcing them through a thinly veiled window of desire. Claire touched him, hands molding around his body and feeling his masculine angles through his clothes. He slipped his fingers through her blond hair and then traced her jaw line delicately with his eager fingers. He felt her hands move over his chest as he deepened the kiss, moaning as he felt her tug at his shirt and slip her chilled hands softly over his warm skin.

Claire nipped at him in-between kisses, catching his tongue playfully and awkwardly as she smiled against his mouth. She felt him lean her to the ground, pushing her lightly on her back as he continued to kiss her. He shifted his weight, and hovered over her, slipping a hand underneath the sweater she borrowed from him, and then finally under her own shirt against warm flesh. Claire gasped in his mouth, a motion that made him pause. He broke their kiss, earning a noise of disappointment. He looked down, and realized he had inched his knee in-between her legs as he towered over her.

He hesitated.

“Claire ... we can't... this isn't right.”

“Oh, God...,” she groaned, looking around the cavern walls and then rubbing her hands over his chest. “How can you say this is wrong?” She looked at him, cupping his cheek with her hand. He rubbed her hand against him as she gave him a pained look. “I can't deny how I feel about you. You can't deny how you've been staring at me all night long!”

“Claire, you don't know me... not in this time. In this time...I'm not the same man. There's been time between us that hasn't happened for you yet. And here, now, my past self is with someone else. He hasn't even developed feelings for you yet.”

“I don't care! I only know what I'm feeling for you… the only Peter now.” She crouched upward, and captured his lips again, giving him a desperate, searing kiss.

“No, Claire,” he said, pushing her gently away. And she met his gaze sternly.

“Please, Peter, tell me that there's something here... or that there will be.”

“I can't!”

“Then why did you let me kiss you?”

Peter backed slowly off her and sat beside her. She sat up with him, watching his eyes carefully as he replied.

“I...” He couldn't deny it any longer, and she appeared hurt. Damn, and she was so young, and he couldn't deny that something about this situation was wrong, and if he let it escalate, he couldn't even fathom the things that would change in time. “I can't do this because I'm not supposed to be here,” he answered sternly. “I don't know how one night with you will affect tomorrow.” He looked at her desperately. “Don't you understand? If I make love to you tonight…I don't know what it's going to do, especially because I'm not from this time.” He buried his face in his hands and said, “I can't risk abusing Hiro's powers. I have to learn responsibility from them. I can't...”

Claire looked at him in agony. She almost hated herself for thinking Peter would do anything less than noble in this situation. He was first and foremost true, and if the fate of many outweighed the power of one beautiful, selfish night, he would choose the right thing to do because it was in his nature to do so.

“But what about the things you've already done?” Claire said. She hated to play devil's advocate, but she, unlike Peter, felt selfish in this instance. She had lost so much, friends and family, in just a few days and all she had was Peter. And even though this journey she took was for her to learn how to accept her powers, she was still human.

Moreover, after all that her future Peter has done in the past so far, nothing much more would affect it any better or worse.

“I don't know,” Peter cried, and Claire began inching closer to him. She laid her head over his shoulder. “I just don't know. I'm sure I fucked up royally being seen by that bus, or that I used Hiro's powers to stop time and save you. I'm sure I just fucked up even by helping you out.” With those words, he felt even miserable as he saw tears form in Claire's eyes. “I'm sorry, but I don't know.”

He sighed and then said, “I wish I could just say that if I take you, right here and right now, time couldn't get any worse.”

Claire shifted her position and looked at him square in the face. She moved closer, centimeters from his nose. “Then just say it, Peter.”

“Claire...” he tried to protest, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips. He groaned at the urge to taste it.

She still looked determined, and she said, “If you let me give you this night, I promise to forget it. I'll bury it deep, and when I find you in New York, I'll pretend not to care that you have someone. I'll pretend not to be hurt when you have to get to know me all over again.”

She paused, and he looked at her tempted to her proposal. Finally she said with a choked sob, “When I find you, I'll pretend that I don't love you.”

Her words filled him deeply, singing a plea he could never deny. She leaned hesitantly into him again; unsure if he would push her away.

But this time, he didn't. And all constraints of duty and time fell away with the soft howl of the wind.

“Claire,” he moaned. “I wish you didn't have to pretend.”

“I will pretend, just not tonight,” she cooed against him in-between kisses. He grabbed her head and pulled her close, delving his tongue deeper into her mouth. He still knew it was wrong, but it felt ohsogood to be wrong, and to take her when she was young and ripe, and he was wicked for taking her, for wanting her back when she was so naïve and giving him everything that she had.

Clothes fell away with their inhibitions, and he enveloped her in a possessive heat. He felt the pull of her power sing in his blood and block the chill from the night against his skin. And when he touched her, his aches and pains from the day healed, and in her satisfied laughter his ears buzzed, and with borrowed powers he pulled them into a comfortable heated blanket of time. The cave, the cold Texas terrain, and the stark reality of her past faded away.

Her hands roamed around his skin, feeling every crevice, every groove of his lean frame. She delighted in him, experimenting with strokes around the perfect dip in his back, the ridges of his strong spine, and the coarseness of his brambles of hair. Claire knew he was so very adult - so very masculine, and she could never go back to mediocre high school boys again.

She explored with more ambition, looking down and taking in his angles and curves, mesmerized by every color and line. She trailed her hand downward, and her eyes widened when she noticed his hardened excitement rubbing against her. She grasped her hand around him, and he groaned against her neck. She felt his breathing increase as she started to stroke him, fingers tracing over his veins and moving over his sensitive tip.

Claire gasped when she felt his mouth and tongue take in her breast, biting lightly and sucking fiercely at the hardened tip of her nipple. He moved his hand to keep her other breast from feeling lonely, and he continued touch her, taste her as she moved to stroke him, rub him, and they began to reel - no longer feeling that this was wrong.

“Peter,” Claire moaned, and with his mouth still on her breasts, his hands moved between her legs. As he moved a finger over her wetness, she squeezed him, still in her hand, and he growled against her skin. His fingers began to move beyond her folds, finding the nub and rubbing it. She gasped, throwing her head back and feeling her legs spasm with delight.

She had never felt anything like that before, and he dared to move his finger away. “No, don't stop.”

“But Claire...” And as she kept one hand him, she moved her other roughly over his, motioning to keep whateverawesomething he was doing and to damn well keep doing it.

“Yes... yes!” she cried, feeling almost there - a point of pure abandon just hovering within her reach. He stroked her harder as she squealed and squirmed in his touch, and she moved her hand faster around his cock, pumping him in turn as he touched her.

But as wonderful as it was, it wasn't enough. She felt he could do more. She could give more.

“Peter, please,” she looked up at him as he began to slow his hand, and he looked into her eyes filled with the pinnacle of want.

“Claire... I don't think...”

Claire wheezed in exasperation, and with her free hand she slapped his arm. “Stop thinking so much, Peter.”

Her command caught him off guard, and as she continued to touch him, he felt overwhelmed. She was dripping around his fingers, and her sweet smell was enveloping his senses. Peter turned his head and met her gaze. She nodded only once, and he moved to fill her.

The pain was quick, tight like a pinch, but then he kept pumping into her - filling her, and she didn't want him to slow or stop, and she dug her nails into his back and gritted her teeth, moving her hips fast against him to dull the pain so she could have pleasure. Peter instinctively picked up with her movements, and as she shifted against him, he pushed into her, synchronizing with her motions and branding her with hard even thrusts.

“Oh God,” he moaned out with desperation and dread. He felt weak and not at all like a hero as he took her, even though he had dreamed of this. He had dreamed of filling Claire so many times that he knew she would be good.

But she was so much better than good.

She mewled erratically in pleasure against him, and the look of love on her face propelled him further into her, and he was so close - and God did filling her make him feel so complete.

“Unh...” she murmured, her face contorted as she came, and he felt her flick her hips over him once more - and she squealed out against him as she let herself go.

And as he felt her warm breath against his skin, he emptied himself inside her, rewarding her with all the repressed love and need that had converged within him through time and beyond.

The fire smoldered, and they were back in the cave once again. Peter held onto her, and he remained inside her as she embraced against him. She continued to shiver as aftershocks from their lovemaking resonated within their post-coital heat. Shifting slowly, Peter moved out of her and pulled her into his embrace. She was silent, catching her breath and reveling in the moment between them.

“Claire...” Peter started, but he didn't think Claire would appreciate him telling her that this was probably a mistake. He paused.

She yawned lightly and continued to snuggle against him. Tiredly, she said, “I don't know if I can pretend to forget this so easily.”

He said nothing, and the worries he had before returned fresh in his mind. He frowned as he continued to hold Claire. As much as Peter would admit that this had been wrong, he could not deny its beauty and that he would do it all over again.

Shifting lightly, he looked at Claire, only to notice her closed eyes and even breathing. She was already asleep, and there was a glow of pure contentment on her face.

He had brought her that contentment, which gave him a sense of pride.

He sighed, feeling impending slumber as Claire's scent surrounded him. He moved her beach towel over them, and brought her closer against his chest.

And when sleep took him, he couldn't help but notice the worry in the back of his brain, nagging him about how really bad this could turn.

...