The Spark. (001/Peter Ballard/Henry Creel Fanfic)

- 10

(my man's going thru it)

No.

It was the only thought he could coherently form as he stared into her eyes, not a single trace of recognition showing through them.

"Perhaps I should leave you two to meet. A1, why don't you show Peter to your room. He is a worker here." Brenner offered, casting one last vicious smile at Peter before opening the door to lead them out.

He followed her numbly, his mind too busy trying to process everything happening, too stunned at the cruelness of Brenner to say anything. She cast an odd look at him, like he was losing it.

"Sooooo, why'd you decide to work here?" she asked, obviously trying to break the awkward silence as they neared the hallway to her room, the very hallway he had been too scared to walk down for ten years.

"I didn't." he answered shortly, only a step behind her. He didn't have time for short talk, she knew him, he just had to find a way to make her remember.

He had to.

He didn't think he could make it if he had to do this again, meeting her and falling for her and watching it all fall apart.

So, when they entered her room, which looked almost exactly the same as it did ten years ago, he noticed with a pang, he skipped the small talk.

"Show me your neck."
"What?"

"Turn around, show me your neck." he ordered again.

She looked very offended and slightly creeped out as she crossed her arms and simply gave him a one raised brow stare.

He rolled his eyes at her stubbornness, walking up to her and spinning her around, going to reach up to move her hair.

However, almost as soon as she was spun, she swung back around, kicking his feet out from under him and pinning him against the wall in one swift movement. She looked furious.

And then he was hit with deja vu and grief so hard he closed his eyes, feeling sick. Maybe, just maybe if he opened them again he would find the very same girl, sixteen, holding a flame up against him. Maybe this had just all been one horrible nightmare.

But when he opened his eyes, the much older version of her was still staring at him, her anger fading to concern.

"Goodness, what is possibly so important about my neck that makes you look that heartbroken?" she asked, leaning back to let him off the wall. She then got up and helped him up, giving him another curious look as he jerked his hand away as fast as possible once he was up. "But fine, take a look, but make it quick."

He nodded numbly, before stepping behind her, watching as she swept her short hair off her neck. Despite all his grief, his shock, the moment still felt intimate, as his fingers gently brushed the back of her neck, her head turned only enough to see him out of her peripheral vision. He forced himself to continue gently running his hand over the back of her neck, trying so hard to ignore the soft shifts in her breath when he touched her, the nerves tingling at the skin on skin contact, the goosebumps down his arms, down her neck.

Her voice broke his trance, her tone obviously trying to be sharp, sarcastic, but the waver in her voice revealed the softer tone below it. "Are you done yet?"

He took one last look, his heart dropping. There was no chip. None that he could see at least. The only way to be sure was if he had his powers back, the ability to rip the chip out, to find it, was all he wanted at that moment.

Actually, that was a lie.

All he wanted was her back.

"Could you do something for me?" he asked, unable to meet her eyes, unable to see her look at him as if he were a stranger.

She shifted on her feet, peering at him. "Depends on what the favor is. And what I get in return."

"You remove this chip from my neck-" he paused and turned around, this time it was his turn to sweep the hair off of his neck and show her the chip under his skin, "and you'll get lots in return."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

She shook her head, "That's wayy too sketchy, that chip is obviously in there for a reason, one I probably do not want to mess with."

He swallowed and let out a soft breath. If he could win her over once, he could do it again. He would convince her, find a way eventually.

No matter how much it hurt.

Until then, he would just have to wait.

Wait, plan, and try. That was all he could ask for.