He Who Controls the Flame (001 fanfic)

Chapter Ten- Eyes of Fire

Peter watched as Juliette stared down at the match, her entire body shaking as she tried to will her power into existence. Peter understood her pain, had been in the same shoes she was in not too long ago. He could remember when Brenner first took him in and ordered him to use his power. He had been terrified out of his mind, so terrified that the power wouldn't come, no matter how much he begged it to.

Brenner had whipped him bloody until he passed out. He awoke with blood and piss coating him and he vowed to never show such weakness again. But Juliette...Juliette wasn't weak. She was raw strength, raw passion, raw love. Everything about her was like an unwavering titanium. She was certain of who she was and no one could break her, but people could hurt her. And that ordeal with the Orderly...that had hurt her like nothing else ever had before.

Juliette loved to put on a strong front, loved to sass off anyone who doubted her, had a silver-tongue sharp enough to lacerate anyone who dared try her...but she wasn't invincible. She'd never hurt a fly, and she had done much more than that to the Orderly.

Juliette wasn't weak, no she never had been, never would be, but her father didn't see her ptsd as a cry for help but as something to crush out of existence. He was one to talk though. That man was probably the most in need for therapy than anyone else Peter knew. And Peter was pretty high on that list.

Juliette's face was getting red and Peter noticed the narrow line of her shoulders was still. She wasn't breathing. Worry tugged on his gut and he stepped forward, ready to tell Brenner that she had had enough, that she wouldn't be going unconscious to prove a point, when Juliette's shoulders released and she sagged forward.

She couldn't do it.

He knew she wouldn't, it didn't surprise him, but it saddened him more than he wanted to admit to see the pure agony written on her face. She hated her powers, hated doing anything her father asked her to do, but she didn't want to disappoint him. He could relate. He had been on the backhand of that Brenner disappointment before and it was a cold, cold place to be.

He wanted more than anything to bound over to her and sweep her into his arms, to protect her light from the dark and shadow that was her father, who threatened to snuff her out with every exhale.

Brenner leaned backwards, his jaw tense. His eyes were narrowed not on his daughter but on the wall ahead of her. The dickwad couldn't even look at her. He saw Juliette's face fill with color and her shoulders twitched, her head bowing. She was shrinking into herself, like she was waiting for a blow, either physical or verbal. Peter felt the need to retch at the sight.

"Thank you, Juliette, you're dismissed." His words seemed to echo in the air around them, bouncing on the walls and crashing into one another uglily.

The surprise was written clear on his daughter's face. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. "What?" she blurted with the grace of a bull in a china shop, but Peter didn't admire Juliette for her gracefulness.

Her father's lips tightened into a thin line and Juliette rolled her eyes before pushing out of her chair. She kept her spine straight, her chin high, despite the fact that her hands were shaking at her sides.

Peter was glad that the meeting was over, hoping that he'd be able to walk her back to her room and somehow get her to laugh again.
They had had a small moment while he was giving her a massage and God...he couldn't stop thinking about that massage. The feeling of her, even under that starchy hospital gown, was imprinted into his mind. While he worked, he had wanted nothing more than to bend down and run a strip with his tongue up the side of her neck. She smelt like strawberries and he wondered if she'd taste like it too.