Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspired by the trailer for 3x14.
Somehow
She couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed like a nightmare from which she could not wake up, all so vivid, and yet all so surreal. She'd been blindsided, caught in her own living room as she padded downstairs to read the morning paper and eat breakfast. Trapped by men dressed as if she was the rodent, and they were the exterminators. All the screaming and kicking couldn't help her now; she hadn't even had the chance to defend herself, like her father taught her. He hadn't seen her fail, for she was always the first one up in the morning. But when he found that she was gone, she could only imagine the rage and the turmoil that she was leaving behind.
She couldn't believe who had done this to them. Hearing that it was someone like them playing traitor was bad enough, but did the villain du jour really have to be her biological father? There went the universe again, playing sick jokes on her. No, the world wouldn't come crashing down if she didn't shoot her hero. But when it did all fall apart, it would always be someone she trusted who would be responsible.
Most of all, she couldn't believe that he was here. She'd dreamed of their reunion for days, but never like this. Not in a million years would she wish her fate on him. She'd thought that he would be safe, since she'd noticed that something about him had changed while they fled Pinehearst. In a way, she was glad that he was… back to his usual self. It was like he was whole again, connected to her in a special way, sharing something that made them unique. And in a selfish way, she was grateful he was here, to have someone to comfort her in this makeshift prison. But then again, she wanted him to be free, so she could hold on to the hope that someone was going to save them.
She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists, detesting the cold metal of the handcuffs against her wrists and the scratchy cotton of the orange prison uniform against her skin. Beside her, she heard the whisper of fabric, and then she felt a gentle hand press lightly on her fist, and warm lips brush against her ear.
"It's going to be okay, Claire," Peter whispered, his breath a caress against her neck. "As long as we're together, we'll be okay somehow."