A Note From Lara: Okay, I've been trying to write this since I first heard the song, but I just couldn't get it right. I'm still not too happy with the first part, but overall I think it's okay. It's also really long, as far as songfics go. In fact, I've included a sort of "second chapter" at the tag end that is not part of the original story, but I felt it needed to be added.

~Chapter One~

"Light Up The Sky" by Yellowcard

--Flashback--Three Weeks Ago-- Kirby Plaza--

Claire gasped, clawing at her throat, where an invisible hand strangled her. Her vision went dark as Sylar choked her telekinetically. Oh god, she should have listened to Peter, she should have trusted him, she shouldn't have run...

By the time she realized she shouldn't have left him, she was wandering, lost, in New York City. She arrived on Kirby Plaza, and the next thing she knew, Sylar was there. And he had finally taken the opportunity to take what he had been deprived of on homecoming night. Once the life had been choked out of her, it was all over for her.

You're making choice to live like this,

In all of the noise,

I Am Silence.

Where was Peter? She needed Peter! She needed her hero. Peter was the one person she thought might be able to really protect her. Her two fathers, her mother and her grandmother... they all lied and betrayed her.

She coughed weakly as Sylar pushed harder on her throat with his telekinesis. His dark eyes narrowed as he smiled viciously at her. "No heroic Peter to save you now, is there?" he snarled.

A memory rushed up of Peter, as she had first seen him, of the warm light in his eyes that made her instantly feel as if she was cared about. As if she was... loved. But... not the way she wished he would love her, now that she knew him more.

Oh god. She finally found the right guy, and not only was he way too old, he was her uncle to boot. But it didn't matter, god, it didn't matter, because she was going to die... now. Claire felt despair overwhelm her, as black specks danced in front of her eyes and crept over the edges of her vision.

As her trachea collapsed, Claire fell into a deep darkness...

We already know how it ends tonight,

You run in the dark through a firefight.

Peter's feet pounded on the pavement, terror coursing through him. He had searched everywhere for Claire. Everywhere. Finally, he had arrived at Isaac's loft, only to find the painter dead and a rough drawing of Sylar killing Claire on Kirby Plaza.

That had been the moment that he realized. Claire was the center of his life. No matter how sick, how wrong it was, he loved her. He needed her in a way he'd never needed anyone before. And if he couldn't reach her in time, she was dead.

All his reasoning told him that nothing could kill his cheerleader, but this was Sylar they were talking about. Sylar, who had killed him twice already. If there was a way to destroy Claire, Sylar would find it.

He skidded to a halt on the Plaza, staring in horror as Claire's lifeless body dropped to the ground. He paused only a second before running to her side. Bruises around her throat... she wasn't breathing. She had no heartbeat. "C'mon Claire, heal," he whispered. "Heal! Dammit Claire, don't leave me!"

Silence. Nothing but silence.

He could sense movement behind him; out of the corner of his eye he saw the blonde attacking Sylar with a parking meter, holding him at bay. But all the sound had dropped away from the scene as he prayed, listened for a heartbeat, anything to bring her back...

But no heartbeat came. Claire Bennet was dead.

And I would explode just to save your life,

Yeah I would explode.

Peter rose to his feet, rage and fury and grief and a thousand other emotions surging through him, sparking off a reaction. "Go back to your family," he said to the blonde. She nodded and backed away, leaving him to face off against Sylar. "You son of a bitch, you killed her!" he yelled.

Sylar chuckled, not a trace of remorse showing in his face. "You were too late, hero," he said. And the chain reaction that had been building in Peter for several minutes now melted over. A faint glow began in his hands, flashing and shimmering as the radiation sang across his skin.

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

Seconds. He had only seconds before controlling the explosion overwhelmed his capacity for other abilities. If he acted quickly enough...

Peter seized Sylar by the shoulders and launched himself into the sky. A hundred feet from the pavement, his ability to fly failed him, but it didn't matter. The explosion building in him pushed him onward, like a rocket or a missile. They rose higher and higher in the sky, and the searing heat of Peter's fire burning away the darkness...

Let me tell you why,

I would die for you.

Claire gasped as her trachea healed, and she sat up. A hand descended on her shoulder and she looked up to see a tall blonde woman kneeling beside her. "Are you alright?" the woman asked.

She nodded, disoriented. "Where's Peter?" she said hoarsely. Niki Sanders raised her eyes to the sky and Claire looked up just in time to see a massive explosion tear the sky apart, and light up the city like another sun.

Let me light up the sky.

--End Flashback--Present Day--

I can't find a wall to pin this to,

They're all coming down since I've found you.

Green eyes reflected back at her in the window. It was just her and Peter in the house again- the boys were at school, Heidi and Angela had gone to lunch, and Nathan was clearing out his office in preparation for his inauguration. Peter, still out of work, had had to give up his apartment and move in with the rest of them. And as for her... well, normal life wasn't looking like it was going to bang in her door anytime soon.

Three weeks after the explosion, she still wasn't sure she really believed what had happened. It felt... distant. Like something out of a comic book; not real, not her life at all.

But it was real. It had happened. And for two days, she had been devastated, mourning the loss of her hero. She had been more despondent even than Nathan. She had wandered around the mansion like a lost soul, putting on a relatively brave , if tearstained, face for the sake of the rest of them, but inside she was screaming.

But then...

--Flashback--Two Weeks and Five Days Ago--Petrelli Mansion

Claire was crying again. She hadn't really had dry eyes since waking up on Kirby Plaza. But she knew that it was her fault Peter was dead, and she couldn't deny it to herself any more.

Heidi, and Claire's half-brothers, Simon and Monty, did their best to comfort her, but none of them really understood. Nathan hadn't spoken to her since they'd lost Peter. She thought maybe he felt shame for abandoning them that night. Angela, though...

Angela, who was sitting in the wingbacked chair across from her, staring at her with accusing eyes, undoubtedly blamed her for the death of her youngest son as much as Claire blamed herself. Unable to take sitting in the house one second longer, Claire ran out into the rain.

Her bare feet smacked hard on the pavement, cut open by shards of glass on the sidewalk and healing again as she ran. The raindrops mixed with her tears, running down her face and soaking through her hair and clothes.

I just wanna be where you are tonight.

I run in the dark looking for some light,

A flash of lightning briefly lit up the sunless street, and she spotted a bedraggled man walking toward her. Some homeless guy, she assumed, and ran on, not even bothering to hide the fact that she'd been crying.

But as she drew closer, she realized that it wasn't a homeless person at all. It was... Peter. Claire stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him through the pouring rain.

And how will we know if we just don't try?

We won't ever know.

"Peter," she whispered. He nodded, familiar crooked smile settling across his face at the sight of her.

Lightning flashed again as they stood there, simply looking at each other.

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

She threw herself into his arms. She couldn't have stopped herself, even if she had wanted to. She couldn't survive without Peter. He was her hero, and the closest thing to real family she had. He was her best friend.

They stood there in the rain. She cried into his shoulder, and he held her, stroking her hair gently. "How?" she finally whispered, pulling back to stare up into his face.

"A miracle." He cupped her cheek in his hand, rubbing away raindrops and tears as best he could with his thumb. "My miracle."

There was no doubt that he meant her. Of course... her ability. He had that, after all. And so the same thing that had destroyed her hero... had also saved him? But Claire decided she didn't give a damn how it had happened, as long as he was here, wonderfully solid in her arms.

--End Flashback--Present Day--

Let me tell you why,

I would die for you.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced around. Claire smiled when she saw Peter standing behind her.

"Anything wrong, Claire?" he asked. His long bangs fell into his eyes and on an impulse she reached out and tugged on his hair.

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

Maybe she had just meant the gesture as friendly uncle-niece teasing, but Peter froze. The revelations in Isaac's loft had stayed with him, coloring his memories and casting a different slant of light on every second he spent with Claire.

He turned away, shooting her a shaky smile in an attempt to end the encounter as quickly as possible.

Let me make this mine,

I'll ignite for you.

--Flashback--Homecoming--

He gazed at the banner in the trophy case, announcing the heroism of Jacky Wilcox. The photo of the blonde cheerleader seemed to fit exactly what he was looking for, based on Isaac's painting. That, combined with the fact that she had saved a man's life...

Suddenly, someone bumped into him. "Oh, sorry," he gasped, spinning around.

"No, it's my fault," the teenage girl who'd walked into him said. Peter couldn't help noticing that she was incredibly beautiful.

An idea occurred to him. "Do you know this girl?" he asked, pointing to the tributary stacked in the case.

"Jacky? Yeah. Halftime show's in a few minutes. She'll be there- she's a cheerleader. Are you a reporter or something?" she asked.

Peter smiled. "Alumni. Just curious."

"You know, just between you and me, she's not really that special. Just your average teenage girl," she said.

Peter raised his eyebrows, turning to face her full on. "She rushed into a burning train car and saved a man's life. Sounds pretty special to me," he said, but he got the sense that there was something else this girl wasn't telling him. What was it?

"You're right. She's the town hero. I'm totally jealous. Me, I don't win too many popularity contests." Peter watched her go, wondering what more there was to this story.

Let me light up the sky,

Just for you tonight.

"It gets better. Life after high school? It gets a lot better." He didn't know what made him say it, but he felt the need to wipe away the sadness he'd seen in this girl's eyes.

Let me help you fly,

Cause you won't have time.

To cover your eyes,

Or get your disguise.

Ten minutes later, he heard crashes and screaming. He turned around, ready at any moment to see Jacky Wilcox running to him for rescue. But instead, it was the girl from before. And she was wearing a cheerleading uniform.

She was soaked in blood, and there was terror in her face. "Help me!" she gasped, crashing into him again. "He's coming!" It was her? He was here to save this girl? Not the "town hero," but this ordinary girl who won no popularity contests? "Run!" he yelled...

They won't ask you why,

They'll just watch you die.

As she tripped on the colliseum steps, he ran to her, helping her to her feet. "Keep going!" The silent shadow followed behind, and Peter had bruises on his arms from where he'd been assaulted with locker doors.

She stared at him as they reached the top of the colliseum. "Run! Find lights, people. He doesn't want to be seen," Peter said, clutching her by the shoulders. She hesitated, and he pushed her away, turning to face her would-be attacker.

Ten seconds later, he was falling...

--End Flashback--Present Day--

Claire hid her confusion as he pulled away. Had he done something? Read her mind and seen the decidedly illegal thoughts she'd been having for him- her uncle, the rational part of her brain insisted- lately?

But he wasn't just her uncle. He was her best friend, and her hero. She thought back to the day she had told him that...

--Flashback--Fallout--

Claire sat down next to him on the hard plank the Odessa sherrif's deparment attempted to pass off as a cot, smiling. But she couldn't help but feel a stab of agony- incongruent with the short time she'd known him- at how bad he looked. His skin was frighteningly grey, and he looked ready to collapse at any moment.

And it's still so hard to be who you are,

So you play this part,

And the show goes on.

Peter couldn't help but marvel at how long she had gone on like this, all alone with a gift that he knew from experience wasn't necessarily the easiest to live with. She must be incredibly strong, to be able to bear the pain that must have come with discovering it.

Not only did dying hurt, but healing hurt too. The bones knitting themselves together again, the torn flesh repairing itself... it burned like fire all over. How did she put up with it?

But he didn't get a chance to ask her. Her father called her away barely a minute later. He only had time to tell her about the time-traveler's message.

You've come this far with a broken heart,

Yeah you've come this far,

And you've broken.

As she walked out of his cell, she turned back to him, pausing in the doorway. Her green eyes met his, and she smiled a sad little smile that made his stomach suddenly do funny things. "You're totally my hero," she said, grinning.

Once she was safely out of view, he threw himself back onto the cot, exhaling deeply as he tried to slow his heartrate, which was suddenly way too fast. And he was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with the exhilaration of having possibly saved the world. No, it definitely had everything to do with a cheerleader named Claire Bennet. Who, despite the blood and gore, had looked decidedly sexy the night before in that uniform...

Get your mind out of the gutter, Petrelli! he commanded himself. She's seventeen! For awhile, at least, telling himself that worked.

--End Flashback--Present Day--

Peter wasn't sure what he'd done wrong. He could see the hurt clearly in Claire's clear green eyes, and he could practically feel her withdrawing from him. What had he done wrong? She dropped back onto the windowseat, staring out the window again.

"Claire?" he asked.

"What?" she mumbled, not meeting his eyes anymore.

He sat down next to her. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You've... well, you've been quiet lately." She shrugged, still staring into her lap, her fingers tracing slow patterns in the fog the November rain had created on the windowpane. "Claire?"

She refused to look at him. "It's... really nothing. I've just been having these flashbacks..." Her voice broke slightly, but she steadied herself and pressed on. "About Kirby Plaza."

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

Peter took her hand. "It's okay," he said. "Sylar's dead. He's not gonna come after you again."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. When I woke up and realized that you were... what you'd done, I was so scared. I was scared I'd lost you forever, and I couldn't bear to think about what life would be like without you, and the whole time after that was just so horrible, and I... I can't do this anymore, Peter."

Finally, finally she looked up at him, and her eyes were brimming with emotion. "I love you," she said. "And I know it's completely messed up and there are a million reasons it's wrong, but I don't care. I love you."

Let me tell you why,

I would die for you.

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

It was as if someone had lit a fire inside him that was searing away all the paper walls he had tried to put up against her, and she found her way right back in again.

"You... love me?" he asked quietly, stunned.

She was waiting for him to respond, say anything. Her green eyes were huge, and she was clearly terrified by her admission. He still held her hand in his, and he felt his hand tighten sharply. Claire took it as rejection, the squeeze meaning shock- maybe disgust. The pain was naked in her eyes as she tried to withdraw her hand. He couldn't bear it, the sadness and longing in the jade depths.

Unable to come up with a better response, he simply pressed his lips against hers fiercly.

Let me make this mine,

I'll ignite for you.

For a moment, she was too stunned to respond, but her mind caught up with the situation quickly enough. She pressed herself closer to him, allowing her hands to tangle themselves in his hair. His tongue flicked urgently at her lips, demanding entry. She obliged immediately, moaning softly against his mouth.

Let me light up the sky,

Light it up for you.

Let me tell you why,

I would die for you.

He was on fire. Unable to do more than lose himself in the sudden rush of passion and pull her as close to him as they could possibly get. His hands slid down her back, holding her to him. Oh god, she was so incredibly responsive... it was like every half-dreaming fantasy he'd had in the last few weeks, the ones he'd tried and failed to suppress. No, it was better, because this was real.

But all at once, she pulled away, breaking contact just for a moment. "Does this mean... does this mean you love me too?" she gasped.

He smiled, also breathing hard. "Since the day we met," he said. And then her mouth was on his again, and the rush of heat ran through him once again. Her fingers ran to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them almost unconsciously....

And it's still so hard to be who you are,

But you've come this far with a broken heart.

Somehow they found their way to his bedroom... or maybe it was hers, she wasn't really sure. She had no idea how, but all that really mattered at that moment was ridding him of his pants as quickly as possible.

Peter trailed kisses down her neck and she moaned softly, falling onto the bed as she did so and dragging her with him. At the weight of his body pressed heavily against her, of his mouth that quickly found its way back to hers, she was suddenly reminded violently of the last time she'd been this close to losing her virginity.

She gasped in shock, remembering Brody, and what he had done...

And it's still so hard to be who you are,

But you've come this far with a broken

The moment he felt Claire stiffen in fear, Peter peered into her mind, looking for what had frightened her. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but at this point it was a little late to worry about that. What he saw there disgusted him.

"I'm not that boy, Claire," he whispered, holding her shaking body close against him.

She nodded. "I know. I know. It's just..."

"A bad memory. I understand. We... if you're not comfortable with this, we can stop now." She bit her lip, meeting his eyes. Then she shook her head. "I'm okay now," she said in a husky voice.

And then she had recaptured his mouth, nibbling gently along his lip in a way that sent goosebumps running along his skin. Her arms twined around his neck, pulling her down to her again. As she ran her hands over the bare skin of his shoulders, he whispered "I love you, Claire Bennet."

Let me light up the sky,

Let me light up the sky.