This one is slightly different from the rest, where they were actual scenes i adapted slightly this one is AU in that peters went back to new York with Caitlin to find his past instead of going to the future or to Montreal. Naturally it is a paire, or an implied paire at least.
Caitlin
So that was Claire was it? She was blonde. She should have known. I was always the blondes, always the gorgeous, small, perfect blondes that got the man. Her man.
But peter wasn't hers she realised, she had known it the second his eyes had met the teary ones of his niece and he had immediately rushed forward to pull her into his arms and murmur her name into her hair over and over again.
Claire.
Not Caitlin, never in that voice had he whispered Caitlin, always Claire.
He had whimpered in his sleep the few nights they had spent together in cork and the only distinct thing she could make out was "Claire" Every night it was Claire he called for in his tortured sleep.
She had looked into that box, the one she had encouraged him not to open, she had seen a picture of peter and some blonde girl; arms wrapped around each other tightly, smiles bright enough to blind and eyes locked on the other. She had prayed that the girl wasn't Claire when he had first whispered her name in his sleep, she had hoped with all her heart that Claire was just some past flame that had long since burned out, but now she knew she was wrong. Claire was much more than that. And she wasn't going anywhere.
She knew it was over the second peter turned his eyes on her, his arms were still wrapped around his niece as hers were around him and his head rested atop hers while she buried her face in his neck and cried softy.
His eyes had changed she realised. In cork they had always been dark and haunted, as if she was missing something. Here, with Claire in his arms they had lightened significantly- to an almost golden colour and the light that had been absent suddenly shone from them like a beacon. He had been tough, almost cold in Ireland; he had managed to pull off the part of thug in Ricky's gang perfectly because of it. No emotion. He wouldn't be able to do that anymore, he was soft now, gentle and warm as he reverently touched Claire's cheek to make her look up at him from her place glued to his chest.
His memories were back, she knew that too, he had remembered everything about his old life the second he had seen Claire. Maybe because she had been that life. He was still ignoring the rest of his family gathered in the room, what she assumed to be his mother brother and sister or sister in law were all standing in the doorway next to her conversing quietly. Nathan- as she heard the brother being called- looked as if he wanted to rush forward and either deck peter or hug him but was being restrained by who she was sure was his wife by a hand on his arm and a murmur of "let Claire see him, you know how she's been" the mother was simply standing there watching them impassively- showing no emotion whatsoever and not sparing Caitlin a glance.
One thing Caitlin noticed was that not one of them seemed bothered by the closeness of niece and uncle. Maybe things were different here in America but surely they must see that they were unnaturally close, even if peter had been thought dead for a while, no niece should be reacting like that. But then she remembered the photo. And Peter's eyes. And his smile. They had all changed, all lit up and transformed into something magic at the sight and feel of Claire. They must all be used to it and couldn't see a difference; either that or they were one majorly fucked up family. She couldn't deny it though. Peter belonged to Claire. After all, it was always the blondes.