Title: It Takes Time

Genre: Television

Series: Heroes

Spoilers: Vol. 2

Characters: Adam Munroe (Kensei), Claire Bennet

Rating: PG

Summary: They have the ability to live forever and they, better than anyone, understand the consequences.

A/N: My beta dragonydreams is teh best. TEH. BEST.

"I never knew."

His eyes were a blue so light that it was almost silver, and despite the emotions swirling within them, they always seemed cold. She shivered as his gaze locked onto hers and waited for the question she knew was coming.

"Never knew what?"

Claire shrugged, turning from him to look out the window at the people that scurried about many stories below. "How 500 years can change you," she replied slowly, twirling one of her curls around her finger as her thoughts slipped back through the years to the girl she'd once been. "I used to be a cheerleader...a hero. What am I now, Adam?"

Her companion stood and moved to her side, turning her forcefully so that she faced him. He slid his hands into her hair, a gesture he always made sure to do at least once a day. Adam brushed a kiss across her brow, sweeping down to kiss her lips as well. "You're my wife, my love, and the only thing I've ever wanted."

"Besides vengeance," she added with a small smile that lit up her face.

He nodded, releasing the hold he had on her hair to slide his long fingers around her waist, pulling her close. "Besides that..."

A long time ago...

They were killing each other.

Slowly, but surely, they would break each other down until no amount of healing would pull them back together.

Peter had strength and many other abilities on his side, but Adam had 400 years of training. He knew how to fight in ways that had long been lost to the annals of history.

For all of Peter's brute strength and keen intelligence, he didn't have centuries of cleverness and plotting under his belt. Adam could outthink, outmaneuver, and outfight anyone that was sent against him. When it came to patience, Adam had all the time in the world.

He could wait years to take his vengeance, decades to plot your downfall, and in the end you'd never see it coming. It was for that reason and that reason alone, that the he had allowed the Company to hold him in a cell for so long. Why bother breaking out when he could afford to wait until their security grew lax?

It alarmed her that she could get into his mind so easily.

In 400 years, would Claire be just like him? Hunting down people who she perceived as having slighted her, and making them pay in as brutal and bloody a manner possible?

Watching as Peter and Adam's fight somehow escalated in even more violence, she hoped not.

Moving around the battle zone, Claire hurried to Mohinder's side and helped him to stand. Blood was running down his dark face at an alarming rate and she tore off a piece of his shirt to hold to the large cut on his temple.

"Have you seen Hiro?" Mohinder asked, wrapping his arm around Claire's shoulder as his sense of balance seemed to be dissipating as he lost more blood.

Claire shook her head, gesturing to the fighting before them. "How long can they go on like that?"

Mohinder shrugged and almost fell on his face at the sudden movement. "Peter can only hold onto his abilities for so long before he'll lose control. At that point, he'll either..." Mohinder's voice trailed off and his and Claire's eyes locked in panic.

They finished his sentence in sync. "...explode or die."

Claire's small body began to shake at their sudden revelation and she turned her wide eyes back to the battle. "Stay here, Mohinder," she whispered as she slackened her hold on the Indian man and let him slide to the floor slowly.

"What are you doing, Claire?" he asked unsteadily, his eyes concerned as he watched her move towards the fight.

"Someone has to end this."

"It doesn't have to be you, Claire." Mohinder tried to reach her, both physically and with his words, but she was already too far away. "Even you can only take so much damage. If anyone in this world knows how to kill you, it will be Adam."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Claire replied softly before completely tuning out Mohinder.

Peter had gone radioactive, his skin glowing with a sickening light; every time his fists made contact Adam's skin would melt off only to reform within seconds. The sight was disgusting, but the smell was nauseating.

Claire pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as if to suppress the urge.

Before the battle, the room had been immaculately decorated; Angela Petrelli only hired the best of the best, after all. The furniture had been 17th Century, the carpet and drapes the finest of cloth, and tea set upon the coffee table had easily been worth Claire's weight in gold.

That is, before Peter had been thrown through said table and crushed it.

Now the very expensive carpet (a one-of-a-kind blend of cashmere and Egyptian cotton) was matted with blood and broken glass, with the occasional splinter of wood thrown in. Peter and Adam were adding more debris to the floor with every second, and the bits of blood were quickly becoming thick with shards of bone.

Claire tried to make her way to them, they were near the far wall and dangerously close to taking the fight outside via the large window, but the heels she wore made the walk perilous. Several times she found the stiletto points slipping on a piece of glass, and once on a quiver of bone.

Finally she slipped them off and ran to Peter's side.

He didn't glow with Ted Sprague's radioactive powers any longer, and a steady stream of blood was trickling from one of his nostrils. There was a small cut on his temple and Claire's fingers automatically reached for it; her fears realized when the cut remained open under her fingers.

She plastered herself in front of him, taking any clear shot Adam might have had of him away. Staring into Peter's resolute eyes, she struggled to find the words to end this.

"Stop," she whispered roughly, her voice breaking as her hands found Peter's. "Stop this right now."

Peter heard her words and froze under her hands, his face torn as he stared into his niece's eyes. "Claire, get away."

"No," she replied, startling him when she spun around to face Adam. "You stop this right now!"

"Get out of the way, little girl. This isn't your fight," Adam said calmly, turning his head just enough to crack his neck as the small cuts along his face healed.

The one cut on Peter's temple continued to bleed.

"This isn't Peter's fight, either!" She yelled, her hands still holding Peter's, still refusing to allow him to move forward and continue the battle. "I buried my biological father today. Don't make me bury my uncle, as well."

Adam scoffed. "Peter can hold his own. He's a healer, like me." The five-time centenarian moved forward. "He's the only one who can ever understand."

"Understand what? Violence? Murder?" Claire asked, unconsciously backing up into Peter as Adam came closer. "He's not like you. Nothing like you. He's a good man, empathic, sympathetic. He's not even a healer. I'm the healer. You're just seeing a reflection of my powers in him."

Adam froze. "You're...a healer?"

She nodded, unsure why this information startled him. "Like you."

"Like me?"

Adam stumbled back, his eyes like glaciers as they focused, truly, on Claire. "You're a healer."

Claire nodded slowly, again. "I think I said that already."

Adam's hand, trembling, reached for her, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing her cheek when Peter lashed out.

"Don't you touch her!" The power was back, that sickening rush of light under his skin and when he spoke his voice reverberated as if a thousand voices spoke through him.

Adam was startled out of his reverie by Peter's angry yell and a charming smile split his face. He stepped back quickly, his hands out in clear surrender and it took all Claire's strength to hold Peter back. "No, of course not. I'm the enemy and she's...she's the Princess."

Peter was almost growling with the intent to destroy and Claire could feel her skin blistering where it touched his. She glared at Adam suddenly. "Go away. Go, now."

Adam nodded again, not taking his eyes from Claire's. "Yes, of course. This is not the time or the place." He grinned and winked at her rakishly. "I've all the time in the world."

With one last lingering look at Claire, Adam threw himself out of the window just behind him and disappeared into the city. Peter got himself fully under control and watched with shame as the radiation burns he'd caused Claire healed.

Their hands remained joined as they stared through the broken window into the too bright sunlight that danced on the other side.

Mohinder drew himself up the wall, walking with a limp to where Peter and Claire held each other. "What was that all about?"

"What do you mean?" Claire asked, her voice oddly monotone as her thoughts remained with the charming blond who'd just escaped.

"You told him to stop, and he actually did, Claire," Mohinder stressed, pressing one hand against the cut on his head, which had finally, mercifully, stopped bleeding. "I don't think Adam has ever listened to anyone."

"I don't like the way he was looking at her," Peter said stonily, releasing Claire and moving to the window, knowing already that Adam was gone.

"At me?" Claire asked with some surprise.

"Yes, at you," Peter stressed. "I don't like what he said just before he left, either. He'll be back."

Claire's thoughts were traitorous, but she kept her face impartial. She reassured Peter and Mohinder. "We'll be ready for him next time. We'll be ready for all our enemies, next time."

"You were always Peter's enemy," Claire said quietly, pressing her face into her husband's chest. "Always fighting, trying to kill one another."

"It was my duty to fight him. If I didn't, he'd have had no purpose in life."

"He'd have had a life, at least. Something other than always fighting, always searching."

Adam cradled her face. "It's all I had before I met you."

Claire grinned. "And look how you turned out, you warmonger."

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