New Fic: They Were Always

[aisalynn]

So, I had this idea early today, and it's just a short little, less than five hundred word ficlet that gave me a whole lot of trouble. While I was TRYING to write it, my mom kept coming in to have me do errands: pick emily up from Mammaw's, take her to tennis, go to the bank, go to the post office, go clean up the basement, go back to Mammaw's and check her mail, help her fix dinner, go back AGAIN to Mammaw's to give her a plate of said dinner... Because of all this, this little ficlet took almost SIX HOURS to write. And it was one of those times where I had everything already written out in my head. Well by the time I got around to finishing it, it wasn't exactly how I first imagined it, bu I like it anyway. 

Title: They Were Always
Author: Aisalynn
Fandom: Heroes
Parinig/Characters: Peter/Claire (canon)
Rating: PG
Summary: They were the constants. They were always the same.

She stood in front of the large window, running her fingertips along the cold glass, tracing the outlines of the city buildings, wishing she could step outside to see the sunset, to feel the air in her hair. But they were far too high up for a balcony, and the air wasn’t clean anyway.

There was a shuffling noise behind her, and strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to a familiar body, a familiar sigh breathed in her ear. She smiled. It was a sort of surprise that, after all these years, he could still make her smile.

So many years. Years of running and hiding, false identities and new places all over the world, none of them safe. Years of fighting. Fighting the company, fighting each other, fighting for the world and against the world, fighting to survive. Fighting to live.

They had lost so many over those years: lost them to war, to the Company, to disease, to old age. She still remembered the day her father died, lying bloody on the ground, dying and yet not defeated. He had won. She remembered the exhaustion and relief in his eyes as he pushed her hand, which held a syringe of her own, healing blood, away.

Just as clearly as she remembered the horror in Peter’s eyes on the day he turned to her and said, “Claire, we might just live forever.”

And here they were. Dozen’s of lifetimes had passed and they were finally in a place where nothing else mattered. Things like powers and gifts, restrictions like Uncle and Niece, they didn’t matter. One thing they had learned over the years was that they were always the constant. Lives changed, names changed, the world changed around them, but they remained the same. They were always themselves.

The dying sun bounced off the oval and cylindrical buildings, made of colorful metal so glossy and shiny they reflected the light like mirrors, throwing it around the city skyline right along with the artificial neon lights that were never dimmed. It was bright and colorful, but hazy. So unlike the sunsets of years ago, where only trees and mountains jutted into the streaks of orange, pink, purple and the long lost, pure, brilliant blue.

He pressed his cheek to hers, which was still as young and full as the first day he met her, and whispered into her ear. “It’s a different kind of beauty, isn’t it?”

She leaned her head back on his shoulder, soft blonde curls falling from her shoulder to his.

No matter what, they were the constants. They were the same.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

They were always Peter and Claire.

Comments

[pcdarkrose.livejournal.com]

This is simply gorgeous--so lyrical and aching, and yet it ends in happily ever after.

[frellingblonde.livejournal.com]

Ooh, pretty. What a nice thing to wake up to, I haven't had my coffee yet but I'm smiling. ;)

[etamne.livejournal.com]

Wow. Amazing little fic!