Charloft: Savior
Jul. 19th, 2010 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticWhether it was from death by rampaging rhino, natural causes, or humiliation, tell us about a time someone saved your life.
“And I’m tired of you telling me what I have to do!” Peter snapped, getting right in the older man’s face. “I don’t have to do anything!”
“Except fly,” Claude retorted, grabbing the empath and tossing him off the roof.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. There was no time for coherent thought or a replay of Peter’s life. He was falling and he didn’t know how to stop. All he knew was fear and panic, and the undeniable certainty that he was going to die.
A face flashed in his mind’s eye. A pretty blonde girl with a sad smile. The fear as they fled from her attacker. The look of awe in her eyes when she saw him healing. The worry when he told her to get help.
“You’re totally my hero.” He could hear her words as clearly as if she were right there speaking to him. He couldn’t leave her. Not like this.
Then Peter hit the cab and felt the stab of metal slice through his body. It was pain worse than anything he could imagine, but his heart was still beating. Slowly he pushed himself up, more pain stabbing him as the metal gouged through his body. But he was alive, and he staggered away feeling the wound start to mend.
Peter tilted his head up to look at how far he dropped. He made it; he lived. Thanks to Claire.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed out.
“And I’m tired of you telling me what I have to do!” Peter snapped, getting right in the older man’s face. “I don’t have to do anything!”
“Except fly,” Claude retorted, grabbing the empath and tossing him off the roof.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. There was no time for coherent thought or a replay of Peter’s life. He was falling and he didn’t know how to stop. All he knew was fear and panic, and the undeniable certainty that he was going to die.
A face flashed in his mind’s eye. A pretty blonde girl with a sad smile. The fear as they fled from her attacker. The look of awe in her eyes when she saw him healing. The worry when he told her to get help.
“You’re totally my hero.” He could hear her words as clearly as if she were right there speaking to him. He couldn’t leave her. Not like this.
Then Peter hit the cab and felt the stab of metal slice through his body. It was pain worse than anything he could imagine, but his heart was still beating. Slowly he pushed himself up, more pain stabbing him as the metal gouged through his body. But he was alive, and he staggered away feeling the wound start to mend.
Peter tilted his head up to look at how far he dropped. He made it; he lived. Thanks to Claire.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed out.