Title: The Price of a Memory (1/17)

Characters: Claude, Peter, Mohinder, special guest appearances by Molly and Nathan

Pairings: Peter/Claude eventually

Rating: R

Warnings: slash

Spoilers: Through the end of Season One. Written before Season Two, so AU after that but shares some parallels with certain elements from the newer season.

Summary: A few months after the events of How to Stop an Exploding Man, Claude meets Peter again to find he's not the person Claude once knew. Now Claude has to find out why.

Disclaimer: Heroes and the associated characters don't belong to me.

The Price of a Memory

Part 1/17

The next time Claude saw Peter, he was on one knee in the middle of a busy sidewalk tying the shoe of a small child. Hair short and clothes more adult than anything the invisible man had seen him in before, Claude might not have recognized him except for the overly serious look on his face as he took the shoelaces through the motions at a slow, deliberate pace while the girl stood with one hand on his shoulder, watching avidly. How touching. When he was finished, the girl beamed, holding out her foot like Cinderella at the ball. Really, she looked far too old to be needing her laces tied for her but Peter wasn't the type to let someone else's kid crack their head open on the sidewalk out of neglect, even if it meant blocking pedestrian traffic in the most annoying way possible to do it.

Taking the girl's hand loosely in his own, the two started walking together again. That might have been the end of it except they were walking in Claude's direction. Invisible as he was, it went without saying that there was no risk of the boy seeing him but as he wasn't in the habit of getting out of other people's way, the whisper of contact between their arms as Peter passed by was enough to make the other man look down as if expecting to find an insect had landed on his skin. Seeing nothing, he kept walking, carrying on a comfortable silence with the little girl.

Without knowing he was going to do it, Claude followed.

Claude hadn't seen the boy wonder in person since the night they'd been shot at by Claude's former colleagues. Hit with a dart from a tranquilizer gun like some animal, Peter had managed to rescue his sorry ass by scooping him up and flying him to safety like some damsel in distress. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, the boy had proceeded to act like being attacked together had solidified some sort of non-existent bond between them. Like they were on the same team simply because the kid had a habit of attracting the attention of dangerous people with guns. Not bloody likely. Feeling betrayed, Claude had stormed off, determined that New York could blow to hell for all he cared. He wasn't obligated to stick around and watch it happen.

Except he did stick around and he did watch it happen. Not like he had brought popcorn or champagne or anything. Not even cheap champagne. But he had stood on a rooftop in the middle of the city with no way of knowing if he would be safe from the explosion when it came. From there, he'd watched as a streak of light rose toward the sky before bursting outward like fireworks gone wrong. Watching it happen, Claude was struck by the enormity of his own failure. By the enormity of Peter Petrelli's failure. All that work and it had been for nothing, even if the city was still in one piece.

Claude didn't have a lot of trouble working out what had saved them all in the end. The story of Nathan Petrelli's brief disappearance and subsequent hospital stay was buried in the newspapers underneath wild speculations about the cause of the mysterious explosion over the city that night. No one seemed able to connect the two, which wasn't surprising. But it was Claude's guess that big brother had sprouted a conscience and had stepped in to save baby brother at the last second. A clever move, that. It explained why the explosion had appeared to be moving upward rather than down. It might even have been a noble sacrifice if only Nathan Petrelli had had the decency to die in the act.

But he didn't and fuck knew how that happened. Instead, he'd recovered and taken office as planned. Meanwhile, Peter had slipped back into the oblivion of relative anonymity. He'd all but disappeared.

Until now.

Now he was tying shoelaces for little girls in the middle of busy sidewalks like someone's sodding housewife. Claude didn't know what he'd been expecting to become of Peter in the wake of that explosion. Maybe a cape and a silly secret identity to go with that endless determination that he was meant to save the world--or destroy it. Maybe a one way trip to the insane asylum, courtesy his loving family. Maybe something else. Maybe nothing at all. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't this.

He followed Peter and the girl to a shit hole apartment building a few blocks from where he'd originally encountered them. Her hand still connected to Peter's, the girl walked a little ahead of her guardian as they bypassed the broken elevator in favor of walking up endless flights of stairs, Claude behind them the whole way.

"Here we are," the girl said unnecessarily as they stopped in front of a particular door. She smiled expectantly up at Peter as he fished around in his pockets for a set of keys. The way she looked at him he might have been a pony her parents had given her for Christmas. One she hadn't decided not to be afraid of yet.

Before Peter could sort through his keys, the door flew open and a dark-haired man appeared from behind it. Claude recognized him as Mohinder Suresh, the genetics professor Nathan Petrelli had brought with him to Peter's flat as back up the day Claude had decided to take the boy under his wing after all.

"Where were you?" Suresh asked, immediately bending down to take stock of the little girl as if searching for any damage that might have been done during her outing. The girl allowed the concerned examination without protest.

"Jesus, I left a note," Peter said, observing what would have been an obvious overreaction on the part of any parent but looked positively hysterical on the part of the seemingly unflappable geneticist. "We just went for a walk. Didn't we, Molly?"

Molly nodded, timid.

"That's not what your note said," Suresh said.

Peter looked inexplicably lost for a moment. Suresh seemed to be waiting for something as he watched the boy struggle.

"Peter?" he prompted when the boy didn't answer.

"We were going to feed the ducks at the park," Molly said, rescuing Peter. "Peter said his brother used to take him when he was little. Right?" She looked up at Peter, stopping just short of nudging him with her elbow.

"Uh, right," Peter said.

Suresh straightened from where he'd been crouched in front of Molly, crossing his arms over his chest. "So why didn't you go?" he asked.

"I guess we got a little sidetracked," Peter said, pushing his way into the flat as he spoke. Suresh moved aside, allowing him in. Claude managed to step through the door also just before it was shut.

"Sidetracked as in you thought of something else to do or sidetracked as in you forgot where you were going?" Suresh said, following Peter into the kitchen area where the boy began rattling away at various dishes for no apparent reason other than to make himself look busy.

"I didn't forget," Peter said a bit sullenly.

"Then why did you have to rely on Molly to prompt you just then?" Suresh pressed. "You knew you left a note but you had no idea what it even said!"

"I remembered I left a note, though, right?" Peter said, rounding on Suresh now, leaning against the counter behind him. "That's an improvement."

Suresh's lips were a thin line. "You took Molly with you," he said.

Peter sighed. "I needed her to remember how to get back," he said.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Suresh said. "What if she'd had an episode while you were out there? Did you ever think of that? You might not have known what to do, where to go."

"Christ, I haven't lost it completely, Mohinder," Peter snapped. "It's not like I've forgotten what hospitals are for or how to dial emergency."

Suresh sighed and Claude watched his shoulders sag as the fight finally drained out of him. "It's not good enough," he said. "I…worry."

"No kidding," Peter mumbled, turning the water on in the sink and beginning to idly rinse the dishes that had taken up residence there, scraping a little too long at the encrusted food. "I'm tired of people worrying."

Suresh was silent for a moment, watching Peter without seeming to see him at all. After a minute, Peter gave up, turning off the faucet. Flicking water off his hands into the sink, he dried them on the sides of his trousers before walking away, leaving Suresh standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, head hanging. Claude watched as Peter disappeared into a room at the back and shut the door behind him, not quite slamming it.

From where she'd been hovering on the periphery of the scene, Molly asked in a small voice, "Are you mad at Peter?"

"A little," Suresh admitted.

The girl moved a step closer. "Are you mad at me?"

Suresh looked down at her, smiling faintly. He reached out, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. "No," he said. "It's just that…I know Peter is your friend, Molly. He's my friend too. But you shouldn't go anywhere alone with him. It isn't safe."

"I just don't want him to get lost," Molly replied, all childlike earnestness.

"Nor do I," Suresh said but there was something weary in his tone like maybe in his less noble moments that was exactly what he wanted. That Peter and whatever issue he was having this week would simply get lost and leave the two of them in peace.

"Do you think he'll ever remember?" the girl asked after a minute.

Doubt was written all over the good doctor's face so plainly the girl would have to be mentally deficient not to see it. Still, he managed to conjure a brittle smile as he said, "I hope so." And no matter how false that hope sounded, Claude could see how much they both wanted to believe that it was real.