Hi guys, my first Heroes fic here :) Just so you know, it's set just after Claire meets her biological family, and continues from there. Only in this fic, I'm ignoring the impending doom of Peter's explosion and the trip to Paris so that I have time to play with two of my favourite characters! POV will switch from Peter to Claire, it's pretty clear though. It's probably going to end up a little more than a tad AU, but I don't know yet. I just wanted to get this out there and see what you guys thought of it! Enjoy!
HEROES DOESN'T BELONG TO ME. IF IT DID... ooh the fun I'd have!
Panic
He wakes from the dead to a nightmare. At first, he doesn't even realise it. Claire is there like an angel at his side. Claire - of all people - holding a foot long shard of glass in her hand and a mixture of shock and relief in those sweet eyes. She's saved him. There are gasps of joy and surprise, hugs, tears, and even a small clip around the ear and a scolding from his mother for frightening her like that. Everyone's caught up in the moment. Then it dawns on Peter that it doesn't make sense that Claire's here, and he asks questions. When he gets his answers he wishes he'd kept his mouth shut.
It shouldn't affect him so much, but discovering that Claire is his niece makes him feel like the earth is shattering around him. He reels at the news, while Nathan and his mother continue, oblivious. They're too wrapped up in relief that he's alive. Only Claire seems to notice that something's wrong. She approaches him tentatively and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Peter, what's wrong?"
He jumps at the contact and the sound of her soft voice - he's been far away in his own world of shock and confusion and whatever else it is that he's feeling. Nathan and Angela turn to face the two of them; their conversation interrupted, as if only just remembering that they're there too. There are too many eyes on him. Everyone's looking, watching, questioning.
"Uh, yeah I'm fine, just a bit…out of it, that's all." He replies, quickly, shaking his head and standing. Surely that's believable enough for them all? He's just come back from the dead - surely he's entitled to be a little…strange. "I'm gunna take a shower, get cleaned up."
He practically sprints for the staircase, heading for his room upstairs without another glance at his family. He finds sanctuary beneath the hot jets of the shower; soaking away the dried blood and grime. He leans against the tiled wall, letting his wet fringe cover his face, and sinks to the shower floor.