A.N: This was written for the LJ community "Paire challenge" for a one-shot prompt of "Family Values".
I don't own Heroes, and don't read this if you don't like incest or you haven't seen "Trust and Blood" yet. Enjoy!
She's being passed around like a rag-doll and she's sick of it.
Her fathers bicker over her as people like her, her friends are hounded by armed men, sent out to re-capture 'dangerous terrorists' – at least, that's what she heard the Hunter guy call them. She can't help but roll her eyes; both of them say they're trying to protect her.
Protect her from what? From them? From the horrors they've unleashed into this world?
She can tell Nathan's reconsidering – his neck's on the line now she helped bring the plane down. And yet he still says he's willing to let her go, Scott free, and live a normal life. Show her how to sweep things under the carpet like a true Petrelli.
Her dad must have agreed to something to arrange this; Claire can hardly see Nathan doing this out of the kindness of his own heart, not when he's allowed his own brother to be hunted like some animal. But it's not like she trusts her dad now, either.
When she gets home, she feels exhausted, and she knows it's not just from the strain of the last 48 hours. She went to New York for a few days to see the Petrellis, and those few days have taught her more about her biological family than she ever thought possible.
Every single one of them has ulterior motives. Every one of them manipulates, lies and cheats their way through life, using their attributes to gain the upper hand. Claire isn't sure whether she wants to be like them, she just wants to be normal, a Bennet, free from all this…
Or will that make her as bad as they are? If she goes into the background, like both her fathers want her to, like Angela wanted her to as she helped her pick out college brochures of golden haired people with dazzling, white teeth, like Peter wanted her to when he told her to go home, wouldn't she be turning into them?
Claire can't abide the thought of being a Petrelli, so the next morning, she tells her mom she's changed her mind, picks one of the faceless colleges Angela showed her, and says she wants to move back to New York.
---
If Angela's surprised, she doesn't show it. One of the maids answers the door, and Claire's let into the same sitting room where Peter lay dead once before. The room's been re-decorated since then.
"So," the matriarch says with a tight-lipped smile, "You changed your mind."
"Not exactly," she replies, setting her mouth into a grim line, "You're going to help me."
Again, surprise isn't the emotion that crosses her grandmother's face.
"I know exactly what you can do."
---
She spends the next few months working with Angela under-cover, helping out people like her without actively getting involved in the battle. It seems like, despite earlier assurances, Angela's Primatech days are still going strong, and soon enough, Claire's directly involved in the manufacture of fake passports, ID, surveillance on Nathan's cronies; she's helping save people without ever having to step into the line of fire and, for once, she's ok with that.
There's a small building buried within the Petrelli grounds; Angela told her that Nathan and Peter used to play there as boys, and they refurbish it. It has weapons stocked underneath the floorboards, and serves as a place for fugitives to stay without jeopardising the main building.
Sometimes it's people she knows, sometimes it's strangers. Other times it's Peter, and Claire's heart leaps into her throat the first time she sees him. He looks dishevelled, exhausted from the strain, but his eyes widen when he notices her and crushes her into an embrace, smoothing back her hair and muttering over and over, "You're ok, thank God, you're ok."
Claire holds him tight to her, squeezing out silent tears from her eyes. Angela watches from the sidelines with an unfathomable expression.
---
It's been a year, and the 'terrorists' of Nathan's world now have a new home. It's been nicknamed the new Guantanamo, and the horror stories that come from the place keep Claire awake for weeks, anxious for her friends, for Peter, for herself.
Every time he appears safe and sound at the door feels like the air is rushing back into her lungs and every time their embraces are longer, their eyes linger a little more, and Claire no longer feels ashamed of the dreams she has of him on the nights when she can sleep.
They sit in his father's old study, a fire blazing and the lights down low, and he regales her with stories of things that have happened to him, and Claire finally gets to see how much good she's managing to do. Without Angela's operation, without Claire's organisation, the man before her would surely be dead, powers or not.
It's that thought that crosses her mind when she presses her lips to his for the first time, smooth against rough.
As their embrace becomes more passionate, Angela Petrelli closes the study door, the ghost of a smile upon her face.