Title: No Place Like
Home
Characters: Paire, Niki/DL
Genre:
Romance, Drama, Fluff –future fic
Rating:
pg-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or any of its
characters….I own nothing!!!!!
Spoiler Warning: Pretty much the entire Heroes series…if you seen it, you'll be okay.
Summary: Claire goes to New York to find Peter in order to save the world and finds something she never expected.
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The chair she was resting in was hard as stone against her back. Cold too. Her eyes shifted across the airport waiting area. Since the Haitian, she felt paranoid. She sighed heavily as her worn green eyes dropped down like weights to her cup of beige colored coffee. He sipped the coffee once more wincing as she tasted the extra shot of 'Rocket' which was pure caffeine. She blinked quickly a few times scared if her eyes closed for long enough she'd fall asleep. She pushed her blonde hair from her eyes before picking up a book she had bought for the trip. It was a cheap book from the resale shop. No Place like Home. In 1914, a sixteen year old girl, Abigail, was left homeless by her mother. She was then taken in by an agency who sent her half across the world to England, to be Sire Walter Can Courteaux's wife. It almost reminded her of Sara, Plain and Tall. She loved that book. Both were written as a simple yet beautiful story of a woman trying to her place.
Claire could identify now. She just wanted to find her place and then maybe everyone would leave her alone and maybe just maybe she could be normal. She shifted against the hard seat as she looked at the various clocks on the walls that showed the different time zones. It was currently six o'clock in the morning in New York. The Haitian told her to go to New York and she did. He helped her though. He had just made the ticket available for her and the address, everything else she was on her own. She drained out her savings account she had been keeping since she was ten. It wasn't the jacket pot, but it was enough to keep her afloat for a few months. She had fooled her dad into believing she was 'normal'. The past two weeks had been a huge lie. Claire had made a very believable life for herself, a fake life. She lied saying she was going to a bon-fire with some school friends then staying at a 'little cheerleader's sleep over'. Whatever the heck that meant. She jumped on a red eye and now was here. Claire looked back out the window over the city skyline as the sun began to peek over the clouds cascading a bright sunburst color over the buildings. At that moment she said a silent prayer. She felt weak. All she had was a duffel bag and a backpack that were full of clothes, necessities, and a few pictures of her life she knew she could never go back to. She was sure by now her father had erased all memory of her from her mom and her brother. Maybe even everyone she ever knew. She downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp. It was slightly on the cold side now, but she didn't care. It was the caffeine rush she wanted, not the taste. She looked back down at the piece of paper that had been clutched in her left hand for an hour. It had Peter's name and address on it. She leaned forward causing her hair to fall into her eyes once more as she starred at the paper. Hopefully, Peter would help her. He was the only chance she had left.
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She debated the subway or a taxi knowing she needed to save some money. In the two weeks she had fooled everyone to believing she was the 'old Claire' again, she had researched New York extensively. It was a bit more expensive then she would have liked. She finally gave in to the taxi for several logical reasons. The first being she had no clue of the subway systems, the second was that she was carrying a backpack and a rather large duffel and the third was so maybe she could catch at least ten or fifteen minutes of sleep. She sprung awake when the cab jolted to a halt. Claire peeked out the window of the cab. Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, "Is this it?"
"Yah," the cabbie said as he got out in order to retrieve her bag from the trunk. It wasn't very convincing Claire thought, but she also noticed his English wasn't on the up and up. She slipped her arms into the straps of her backpack as the oversized cab driver sat her bag at her feet. She shoved her hand deep into her front left pocket still starring at the apartment complex, she withdrew her hand feeling guilty for spending precious money. She handed it over to him reluctantly, "Keep it."
"Enhoy New Jork," the cabbie said as he hurried back to his post in the cab. That was the most he had said in the past fifteen minutes. She dipped down catching the strap of the somewhat heavy bag and hoisted it on her shoulder. She was carrying her life on her shoulder. Sadness hit her once again or maybe it hadn't left. She sighed making her way toward the doors of the complex.
She pulled the door open stepping inside quickly. She glanced around as she eased up to the elevator. Becoming more aware with her surroundings she realized that her standard of living, compared with that of her life in Texas, would have to drop dramatically. She didn't think of herself as spoilt, but she was well taken care of. Now, she was looking out and fending for herself. She felt a shiver roll down her spine as she stepped onto the elevator. She hesitated in pushing the button for Peter's floor, "Get a grip Claire..."
Claire's shaky hand pushed the button quickly and then she stepped a few inches back as if it were going to bite her. Maybe she should have tried harder to reach him. He didn't know she was coming. She had tried several times in order to get a hold of him, but there was no answer. She was surprised he didn't even have an answering machine. Maybe he was one of those ludites. Maybe, the fact was, he didn't believe in technology. Yes, that could be it. She shook her head thinking it was stupid of her to think that. This was insane. What was she doing here? The elevator dinged at almost a whisper as the doors jarred open. She stepped out slowly almost timidly into the hallway instantly spotting Peter's door. Yes, this was insane. She still couldn't believe she was standing here, on the other side of a door, the door to her hero, her knight in shining armor, and all she could think about was turning around. She had come too far now. Even now, after all she had done and all she had been through, she couldn't believe this petrified her to all ends. Just seeing Peter again. She prayed she wouldn't break down. She couldn't and she promised herself she wouldn't. All she needed was a place to stay until she turned eighteen which was just two months away.
She shifted the heavy duffel as she starred at the door blankly. Her tired green eyes ached as she blinked a few times. The caffeine was wearing off now. She wished her healing power would recharge her body and give her an energy boost. Maybe the ability only worked with physical injury. The one time she wanted her power to work, to be useful, it didn't work for the purpose needed.
"Please be home Peter," she whispered as she raised a hand to knock. She waited about twenty seconds and knocked again. This time, waiting almost thirty seconds. He wasn't home. She let the bag drop to the floor. She leaned her head on the door and starred down at her tennis shoes. Her light washed jeans looked worn and ragged, unfortunately, she had bought them that way. A waste of money now. But then again, she hadn't a need of money back in Odessa. She moved the duffel close to the wall with her foot as she took off her backpack dropping it on top of her black duffel bag. She was an idiot. She never should have come here. This only added to her long list of disappointments. She slid down the wall only to hit the floor with a hard thud and a heavy sigh. The cold tile against her legs and the hard wall against her back made her think of the rock hard chair she had spent four hours in this morning. She wanted to wait until nine to be at his apartment. She honestly thought he'd be there. Of course, he probably had a job. Claire hadn't figured that into the equation. Now what? Sit here and freeze while waiting for him.
"Perfect," she said in a weary tear choked voice. She pulled her black jacket closer as she leaned into her backpack, curling her legs beneath her as comfortably as possible. She wasn't planning on closing her eyes, but after twenty-four hours of no sleep and no food in six hours, she was lucky she hadn't passed out on the floor. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't budge. She sighed as she felt herself being pulled. 'Maybe just a little while…' she thought as she gently fell asleep on the hard floor.
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Comments are love!!!! Thanks for reading ya'll!!!
