Title: I Pray That Something Picks Me Up (1/?)

Author: Emilie

Fandom: Heroes

Rating: PG

Summary: Claire's journey to finding her real dad.

Word Count: 3120

Disclaimer: I do no own these characters. No profit is made, no offense intended.

Author's Note: I think a big point of this fic is the idea that it isn't as important for Claire to find out if she got her powers from her parents as it is for her to, you know, find her parents. In other words, that's my excuse for not writing Claire grilling her mom on powers and all that. Forgive me. Also? The theory on Claire's dad is pure spec and, I admit, probably a littlecracky. It's all in fun, so no flaming.

Dedication: CJ, you old cock! This is all your fault, really. You told me about this idea and I got all attached, which is never good. It led to this fic, which may or may not be good enough for the crazy delusions of that mind of yours. Enjoy, since you're probably the only one who will!

---

Claire had always been told to never talk to strangers. It got a lot harder when the man she'd thought of as her dad for her entire life was suddenly, disgustingly, unrecognizable. So was it that much of a stretch to talk to a woman who claimed to be her mother?

Claire had been the one to reach out but it'd been her mom--her actual mother--who'd made the call. It could easily be a trick, another fake meeting set up by the strange man with the horn-rimmed glasses. It could be a trap that was she walking directly into as Zach had warned her. She almost listened to him--he was all she had left, so why not?--but in the end, curiosity killed common sense. Sixteen years of her life had been spent being lied to, it was time she took the initiative to find answers. She liked to believe that's why the Haitian spared her memories. Even if he was--to the point of annoyance--mostly silent, he said he would try when she pleaded for his help to find her parents, to find out their names, to find out anything.

The next day she got the call.

Not much had been said but they'd agreed to meet at the diner a few blocks from the library. Claire was too worried about sneaking out of the house to have the required freak-out about the fact that she was going to meet her mom.

Downstairs, she quietly grabbed her bag from the kitchen stool and made her way for the front door.

"Claire?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin, turning to see her dad standing in the doorway that just before had been empty. "Jeez, dad!"

He folded his arms over his chest and laughed, "Sorry, Claire-bear."

Her skin crawled.

"So." He tilted his head a bare centimeter. On the surface he was still smiling, he still looked like a dad; but on the inside? She wasn't even sure she wanted to know. "Where are you off to?"

"The library." It used to scare her that she could lie so easily. but she'd stopped caring the day she realized her life had been nothing but lies. "There's this crazy exam for math on Monday. Figured I'd get some studying in somewhere Lyle can't bug me."

"Sounds like a plan. Need a ride?"

Claire nodded, wanting this to go smoothly. "You know, if you'd let me get a licence then you wouldn't have to drive me around everywhere."

He grabbed his coat and gave a fatherly roll of the eyes. "Oh, so we're attempting to broach that matter, are we?"

He was so casual when he talked to her, like they had a healthy relationship. It made her sick. But even then, she answered. "Just somethin' I thought I'd point out."

---

She snuck out of a back exit of the library after she was dropped off. It was all very secretive and for a minute she felt like the female version of 007. Maybe after the mission Peter would show up to congratulate her. It wasn't too long of a walk to the diner they'd agreed on, but when she was in the open in broad daylight, the sense of excitement turned to dread when she realized that her father--as much as she hated it, that was still what she called him on impulse--could be drive by and see her.

Thankfully, after speeding up a bit, she made it without incident. By the time she got to the door, a sudden panic attack hit her. Her chest constricted and her hand refused to lift to open the door. Tears burned her eyes and she had to squeeze them shut to force them away. In the blistering heat, she bowed her head and whispered to herself, "You can do this. Don't chicken out, not now."

A stranger exiting opened the door all of a sudden, startling her into walking inside just to get out of his way. She looked around for no longer than a few seconds before...

"Claire?" The woman who called her name--short-blonde hair and clothes that, oddly enough, looked exactly what one would wear when meeting with their long-lost daughter--had the face of a someone who didn't have too many happy years to her name. Her hazel eyes were filled with recognition and tears as she stood up and approached her. "Oh my God, it's you. I'm--Oh, I'm so, so glad you decided to meet with me, Claire."

The woman was shaky and relieved and happy and it was so heartbreakingly genuine that Claire almost turned and left. It was scary, the thought of actually opening up. But she reminded herself why she was there. She wouldn't get answers if she ran away, unless the woman was kind of enough to write up an entire letter explaining every single that ever happened. Since that was doubtful, Claire braced herself and kept her expression clear of anything. She shook the woman's hand and they both sat down.

"Claire, I--" She purposely closed her mouth. "I'm sorry, I should--I should ask if it's okay if I can call you--"

"It's fine. It's my name, right?" The woman nodded and Claire had to admit, she breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't actually named Peach or something.

"My name's Merideth," she offered. "Family name, actually. One person in each generation has been named Merideth. I dunno why they like it so much but..." Again, she stopped herself. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you don't care for things like that."

"Are you from here?" Realizing the abruptness, Claire added: "Sorry, your accent makes it sound like..."

Merideth shook her head, hands fidgeting with her cup of tea, gnawing on her bottom lip. "Born on the east coast but when I was sixteen my parents moved out here. I--I stayed in New York for a few months around that time, actually..."

She sounded like she was going somewhere with that, but merely drifted off, leaving them in silence as Claire looked her over. "If you don't mind me sayin', you don't look that old."

"Is that a good thing?" She looked scared for the answer.

Claire shrugged. It was starting the hurt, the cynical expression she had fixed on her face; like someone was using a tool to forcefully contort her face. "Just somethin' I noticed..."

"I was young," the woman explained, voice still painfully quiet. "Real young."

"Is that why you gave me up?" Claire asked, words dripping with venom that came out of nowhere. "Dropped me off in a basket at some fire station or somethin'?"

"I--" She sat up, brow furrowing with confusion. "No! What--what'd he tell you happened?"

"He didn't tell me anythin'. He doesn't even know I'm here."

"Oh." It was hard to tell whether she was disappointed or relieved or just surprised at the news. It didn't matter, since she continued on anyways. "There was a situation. A mix up. I honestly don't remember much about that night. But..." She paused when the waitress came over and took their orders. Claire wasn't hungry, so she got milk and Merideth asked for a refill of her tea. Finally, she continued. "Everything happened so fast, I tried so hard to keep you safe. But they...they took you from me, Claire. Hate to say it but I don't have much of a right hook on me. Tried my hardest but it didn't stop 'em.

"I looked for you and him after that night, filed reports. I looked for ten years. He disappeared with you. Then about two or so years ago I found him, I found...I found you. Thought it was kinda stupid of him for stayin' here in Texas but then again, it was kinda stupid of me to not find you for so long."

"Two years?" Claire closed her eyes for a moment and tried to process that, tried to keep herself from getting emotional. This was strictly Q&A. She couldn't let herself...

"He found out I was in town. He came to me and...he promised me that you were safe and happy and I--I could see that. I didn't want to leave, though, not after I'd finally found you."

"The why did you?"

"He's a powerful man, Claire. In the end I had the choose what was best for you."

"What changed, then?"

The first real, true smile graced Merideth's lips at that question; it made Claire suddenly feel uncomfortable and terribly self-conscious. "You wanted to meet me."

Claire shook her head, fighting back tears to the point of desperation to hide the fact that this was affecting her. Her resolve was cracking. "I've been wanting to meet you for so long. I've wanted answers."

"I have answers," Merideth assured her. "Ask me anything."

Can you shove your hand in a food dispenser, turn it on, and then have your hand heal itself like no big deal? immediately came to mind but Claire, surprisingly, reined in the impulse before she blurted it out. She started off with something else, something she wanted to know just as much. Something that would be easier to answer. Or so she thought. "My real dad. Tell me about him."

Merideth's expression changed slowly, stirred from whatever stupor she'd been in about being able to talk with her daughter after so long. Even if Claire wanted the answer, she felt some regret at asking.

"His name was Isaac." Her eyes drifted away from Claire's. There was no avoidance, only a small spark as memories no doubt flooded her mind. When she continued, she looked almost ashamed. "I don't think I ever knew his last name."

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Claire's voice caught halfway but it didn't stop her. She was too angry. "How's that supposed to make me feel?"

"Claire, listen." Her name still sounded so foreign on her lips. "When I knew him, there was somethin' there."

"Well, I hope you forgive me for having a hard time believin' that." Rolling her teary eyes, she spat the words out bitterly. Her hands were shaking in her lap underneath the table and the awkward glances from the other patrons weren't even phasing her anymore.

Her mother--God, she thought it would get easier as time went on to call her that, but it wasn't happening--looked at her pleadingly, managing to keep her voice soft and quiet. "We were both young and it was...it was a summer I ran away from home to the city, the summer my parents decided to move out here. At that point, I didn't want to talk about that or them or about my life or...or anythin', really. And neither did he. It was an unspoken agreement we had, not to ask any questions. I'm sorry if that's hard to believe but it's true. We told what we wanted to tell and we were happy like that. For two months we were happy being who we wanted to be for once."

"So I was the bad endin' to your fairytale?"

"You weren't the bad endin', Claire. If anything, you were what woke me up to how stupid I had been to stay hidden from the world for so long." A tear escaped her eyes as she leaned against the table, hand hesitantly turning over as an offering. "Being in the city at that age, no rules, no anythin'? It was easy--too easy--for us to get carried away. And we did, we...we did stupid things. Stupid things to have fun, stupid things to escape what we weren't talking about. For me, it was bein' a teenager and it was wantin' to be independent and wantin' more. But for him..."

Her face crumpled and she lowered her head, trying to recover. Claire hated that she felt bad for her in that moment so she forced herself to keep her hands in her lap instead of reaching out. When her mother finally raised her head again, it was almost disturbing at how desperate she looked to pretend like this was easy to say. "I saw scars. Burn marks on his wrists and the back of his neck. It was the first and only time I ever wanted to ask him a question. I never did, I wish I did but I...was stupid."

"What're you sayin--?"

"He needed the drugs." The words seemed to fly out of her mouth without a moment's notice. She looked down at the table again, abashed. "I got sick of it after a while. I was lucky, I guess you could say. But he never stopped and I stayed anyways. I guess I really did think I loved him."

Claire's heart pounded in her throat. "And then I was born..."

"And then I found out I was pregnant," she explained. "I was sixteen and I was scared but even then I knew I had to do what was best for you; I had to leave. I knew my parents wouldn't be happy but I'd be better off with them than I would've been with Isaac. He wasn't a bad man but even as a stupid teenager I knew he wasn't fit to be a dad. I didn't want to do that to you. It was the only real smart thing I did."

"Did he ever get to hold me?" Claire almost broke down at that; it wasn't a question she thought anyone should ever have to ask. "Did he even know about me?"

"No," she shook her head, hands still resting on the table, eyes still pleading with Claire. There was a painful beauty about her then, the vulnerability she'd just given herself by telling a story that she'd probably never told before. Claire hated it. "I'm sorry."

"You don't--" have to say you're sorry, she almost said before stopping, forcing herself to close her mouth and look away. Even as a kid, before she knew about her powers, she'd wanted to know who her parents were, to know the answers to the million questions in her head. She'd convinced herself that even if the answers weren't pretty, she'd be thankful for them nonetheless. Now she wasn't so sure. It hurt her head just trying to figure out how she felt about all this. "I uh...I guess I can see why you didn't tell him. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"I'm not happy about that part of my life either, to be honest. But--" She fixed Claire with a firm gaze. "I do not regret you. I promise."

"So you never tried to find him? My dad, I mean."

"I...thought about it," she admitted, but didn't look like she thought it was a good idea. "I still remember the apartment we stayed at. Sometimes I think about going back, just on the off-chance he's still there. Stupid, I know. Guess that's why I've never gone through with it."

"That's not stupid..." Claire whispered, voice suddenly leaving her. "If it is, then this entire time I've been wanting to find you has been stupid."

"Wasn't it?" That, along with the look in Merideth's eyes, caught Claire off guard. "Do you feel better now that you've seen what I look like? Heard what I've had to say? I want you to be, Claire, I do but...I don't know."

"I am," she rasped, feeling as if she was shaking herself of a haze. "I'm just...processin' all this, that's all. It's hard not to be a little angry about all this."

"It's unfair, a lot of it, I know. I'm sorry."

"You keep sayin' that. You don't have to be sorry." She lifted her hand from beneath the table and rested it over Merideth's. She was surprised by how warm she was. Before she could say anything, her cell phone tore apart the moment. Sighing, Claire pulled her hand back and reached into her purse for her cell phone. The caller-ID informed her that it was...her dad. Correction: her 'dad.' Knowing she couldn't ignore the call, she flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"Claire?"

"That's whose cell phone you're calling. What's up?"

"Just got home and your mom--she's visiting your grandma and you said you'd go with her? She said she reminded you. I'm sorry to cut into your studying time--"

"Shoot, yeah," Claire covered her face. "I'm sorry, tell her I'm sorry. I'll be waiting for you outside in about ten minutes." Hanging up, she gave Merideth an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, my mo--uh, I had somethin' I had to do today I forgot about. Would you be willin' to come back here, tomorrow?"

Merideth nodded, standing along with Claire. "Of course."

"I had more things to ask you, things I've been wantin' to know for a while know."

"One Big question at a time, I guess." She laughed a little as she wiped away tears and Claire couldn't help but smile. "I'm lookin' forward to it."

---

The diner was empty when Claire came back the next day. The only non-employee was an old man having a bowl of clam chowder. Claire's stomach tightened and she closed her eyes to gather herself before approaching an employee cleaning the counter-top. This was what she'd warned herself about, tried to protect herself from.

Disappointment was a sucky feeling.

"Excuse me, has a woman come through here, short blonde hair and--"

"The lady you were here with yesterday? She came by this morning, left a note for you." He waked behind the counter and grabbed a folded paper from beside the register. "Here ya go."

Claire took it, thanking him and walked over to the booth by the window before opening it up to read:

Claire,

I didn't want to go but I didn't want to risk any of this either. The man kept you from me for sixteen years, he knows what he's doing. We should play things safe for now.

I hope you realize it wasn't easy for me to leave. Please, call me at the number below. I want to give you answers.

I love you, I'm glad you're okay,

Merideth.

TBC...