Disclaimer: I don't own Nathan or Claire
Claire stood from afar as her newly found father greeted his wife and sons. Besides Nathan, her family now consisted of not only a grandmother and an uncle, but, also a step-mother and two brothers. She felt her heart break in half as if a lance had suddenly pierced through it, watching him as he lovingly welcomed them home.
Sitting at the top of the stairs, her mind wandered off on how her life would have been "Growing Up Petrelli".
Fathers have an unconditional love for their children. A father would be one who stayed up at all hours of the night comforting his screaming baby due to an ear infection. He would hush her in a soothing voice and gently rock her back and forth until having fallen back asleep in the comfort of his arms.
On her first attempt to ride a bicycle, he would be there at her side, not to watch her fall, but, instead, to be there to catch her when she fell.
Every evening, after being tucked into bed, he would read to his little girl a bedtime story, a fairy tale of improbable events of a happily forever after. He would then, quietly slip out of her bed, lightly kissing her rosy cheeks before leaving the room.
As a worrisome father, he would be pacing the floors as he waited for his daughter to come home from her first date. He would be the one yelling at her for that smashed headlight on his brand new car, but, at the same time, hugging her for having arrived home safe and sound, and away from harm.
Twirling strands of her hair around her finger, Claire straightened up and walked to her bedroom. She wondered if Nathan would have been that kind of a father, a loving father if she had grown up under his household.
She murmured, "Not my father, he's Nathan Petrelli."
He would one day be walking her down the aisle to give her hand in marriage to a young man who would promise to take care of her, and love her "until death do us part".
"No, not Nathan Petrelli."
The End