Author: Tarot aka bigbadwolfeboro (me)
Disclaimer: The only thing here that is mine is the unnamed female OC
Rating: PG 13 language and concepts
Characters: Claude, unnamed female OC, Peter Petrelli
Spoilers: possibly Heroes season one though it’s technically AU. Just a bit of fluff.
Summary: Claude has two students. One of them is Peter who is naïve.
“When are you gonna accept the fact that I’m right?” Claude asked. It was the same argument they’d had ever since Peter had failed to stay invisible to snatch a purse.
“No everyone is that bad,” Peter countered. Granted he still was smarting form Simone returning to Isaac but he still refused to accept Claude’s view point.
“They are; trust me.”
“I do trust you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Claude is right, Peter: people suck!” The woman hadn’t spoken that day until then. Her Bostonian-like accent was very noticeable.
“Don’t you start, too,” Peter pleaded, turning to look at her. He didn’t know much about her, not even her name, just that she was also a nurse and about a decade older than he. He didn’t even know her name as yet.
“At last, the voice of reason.” Claude sounded both sarcastic and smug.
“What about that ‘nurses gotta stick together’ stuff?” Peter looked like a hurt puppy.
“If I agree with you, Peter, I’m not doing you any favors. Claude is right. You’ve never done nursing home work, have you Peter? Or been ignored before now?” The woman looked Peter in the eye. At a quick glance, one might think she was younger than Peter, at least until they noticed the scattered white hairs mixed in with the close cropped medium brown ones, or the lines under her eyes, or the look in those same eyes. She looked haunted, nearly as much as Claude. Peter strongly suspected that she would have vanished herself, years ago if she’d had Claude’s gift. Now here she, Claude, and Peter were on Claude’s roof. Peter had to wonder what went on when he wasn’t here. As it was, Claude was trying to train the empath by attacking him with blunt objects, mainly mop and broom handles. The last morning Peter had arrived early, he’d found the young woman drinking tea with Claude.
“No I haven’t, why?” Peter responded at last.
“You’d be amazed at what you see,” she countered.
Claude, for his part was silent and looked even smugger.
“What, like what happened with Simone?”
Peter just gave the woman a pained and confused look.
The woman changed the pitch and cadence of her voice, clearly to indicate she was quoting something someone else had said, “Nana, sign this paper so I can sell your house.” And another, “Oh my father doesn’t have pain, you just need to go slower.” And another, “We don’t want to pay for that med, even though mom needs it.” And another, “Whadda you mean she’s not dead yet? When is she gonna die? We have preparations to make!” The woman stopped speaking and shot Peter a knowing look back.
Peter’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
Claude broke the silence, “So tell me something, since you can’t go invisible, how’d you see all that?”
“People ignore me or think I’m furniture or they think I’m not paying attention. Probably would have wound up here sooner if I could vanish like you do.”
“So you didn’t just see it then?”
Claude looked less smug and if Peter had to put a name to how Claude was looking at the woman now, he’d almost call it respect, almost. Peter wondered what sort of training went on when he wasn’t around. He knew the woman was another special, but not an empath like him. Peter didn’t know exactly what she could do but suspected if he had a new power show up, it just might be hers.