Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Written for heroes_contest drabble challenge, “New”
Summary: Peter finds something that works, and that’s entirely new.
This was a new thing – something that worked. There wasn’t very much in Peter’s life that did. He chuckled softly to himself; poor little rich boy. Didn’t Daddy hug you enough? Did mother never kiss you good-night? Brother beat you in all the races?
But they did. And didn’t. Dad had hugged him, and took what Peter thought had made him special. Mom had kissed him with her kiss of peace, and taken away his brother with her other hand. Nathan, who hadn’t beaten him in everything, if only to make sure that Peter knew that he had cared, one way or another. Cared enough to let go and leave Peter to find what remained of himself, beyond Dad’s cold stare and Mom’s future plotting, beyond Claire’s jump and Sylar’s change of heart and all those other new things that didn’t quite work the way anyone wanted them to.
Peter fielded calls from Noah Bennet every day as the world changed around them. Not because Peter was any particular genius at these new crises, Noah was the best and they both knew it, but because he was the closest Noah had to a friend nowadays. Another new thing, and one that didn’t quite work either. Peter had begun to wonder if Noah called him just to take the exact opposite of his opinion, as that was most likely to work.
“What are you smiling about?”
But this… this worked. Emma and him, Sunday afternoon on the sofa, both of them still smelling faintly of the antiseptic scrubs they used at the hospital. Warm and tangled together and uncertain of what they wanted to do, but content for the moment to just breathe the same air.
“We work,” Peter said, and Emma caught his words from his lips. She raised an eyebrow at him, smiling.
“Should make you work harder. Fix the drip in the sink,” she said, and tapped his nose with her finger. Peter wondered what that looked like, and his hand glowed as he synced with her ability. Little ripples of blue, like the water they represented, echoed from the kitchen, bouncing off their soft orange rustlings amidst the blankets and cutting through the warm yellow of their breathing.
“I could do that,” Peter offered, knowing he looked uncertain as he wondered if he could surreptitiously look up, How to fix a leak without making it worse. For dummies.
“Or we could stay here. Let it take care of itself,” she said. Emma smirked at him, clearly catching his line of thought as easily as if she had telepathy, and Peter just hugged her closer. They both watched the blue wash over the apartment, letting the little imperfection just go its own way.
Everything didn’t have to be perfect. Another new thought.
Peter kissed the top of Emma’s head and twined his hand with hers as they watched the faint rose-red beat of their hearts fill the air around them.