Author's note: I just want to thank all the lovely people who reviewed my story-thanks you guys you made me feel like this worth writing, so I shall keep writing it. Also I wanted to say I know my perspective kind of swings around with no real pattern or reason and that might be a little annoying but it's just how I write. And in case you haddn't noticed, thoughts are in italics. On to the fic!
Trinity
Chapter one
After the kidnapping Nathan got paranoid about Claire being out of his site. They fought about it, huge, screaming fights that would send everyone in their vicinity running for cover. Claire discovered that being indestructible was apparently no longer enough, and after some heartfelt, genuine emotional displays on Nathan's part had agreed to take a car to and from school and let her bio-dad know where she was at a times.
"So these are the rules" Nathan said, dictating to Claire as she sipped her orange juice before school, exactly one week after the kidnapping, "you take the car, which I have upgraded to have bullet proof windows and sides, to and from school. After school you get directly into the car and come home-no going to Peters' and..."
"What!" Claire burst in, slamming her juice down on the table so it spilled, anger shooting out of her eyes, "why can't I go to Peters'? It's not like he's going to hurt me!"
"Why would I hurt Claire?" Peter walked in, looking quizzical, dropped his coat onto a chair and grabbed Claire's unfinished orange juice.
"Arg!" Nathan growled, throwing his arms in the air and stomping on the floor. "You wouldn't hurt Claire, you wouldn't hurt a bug, but your apartment is where the two of you got attacked. In fact I think you should move."
"Ah." Claire said.
"I'm not moving!" Peter said, downing the orange juice in one swallow and grabbing a muffin, "I like my place. Its rent controlled and I'll never get anything that nice for that price if I leave."
"Peter" Nathan said, talking slowly like he was explaining something to a mentally deficient person, "whoever kidnapped you and my daughter last week knows where you live and was waiting for you when you got home. You can't stay there; it's not safe."
"Man, Nathan!" Peter said, standing up and trying to scrunch his hands up in his nonexistent long hair, "whoever it was who took us didn't even keep us, or try to keep us. I doubt that they're a real threat."
"Yeah" Claire said, standing up and grabbing her backpack, "It was like the lamest kidnapping in the history of the world."
"Lame!" Nathan roared, "I don't care if it was lame. You two where kidnapped, had something shoved into your brains, were drugged and taken against your will to some warehouse in Queens! It may have escaped your notice that this is not a good thing! Someone wanted you, for what reason I don't know, but they did want you for something and until this situation is resolved you will both do what I say for your own safety!"
Peter and Claire stared at Nathan, both of them fascinated by the throbbing vein in his forehead.
Peter turned to Claire. "He makes a good point" he said.
"Of course he does" Angela Petrelli's voice preceded her into the kitchen, "you should both do as he says."
At the sight of his mother Peter's face clouded over. Claire was watching his face anxiously and grabbed his hand and started to pull him towards the door. "C'mon Peter" she said, "you can drive with me to school."
"Ok" Peter said, talking as if he had come out of a trance. They headed towards the door and just before they went out into the September sunshine he turned back, "I will move in for a while Nathan" he shouted back to the kitchen. While he was talking Angela walked into the entryway, "But Mom" he said, his voice getting very quite and completely emotionless, "don't think for a second I'm doing this because you want me too."
As they went out the door Claire and Peter could hear Nathan's frustrated voice, "But there are more rules!"
In the car Claire bit her lip as she watched Peter as he sat with his arms folded tightly in his lap, gazing into space through the new bullet proof windows. Even though with traffic the ride to Claire's school took over ten minutes he didn't say a single word or move an inch.
"St. Mary's academy Ms. Petrelli." the driver's voice broke through her anxious thoughts.
"It's Bennett" she said absentmindedly, still staring at Peter. Outside the car she could hear the bell for first period ringing. Sighing she slid her legs out the car door, stalled for a moment thinking and then turned around and ducked her head back into the car.
"Hey Peter" she said, invoking no response, "Peter!"
Like a man waking from a coma Peter snapped into reality and turned towards Claire. "Oh" he said, "have a nice day Claire."
"No" Claire said, sliding back into the car, "I'm not going to school today." She could literally see the words of protest forming behind Peter's lips (the thought that they were nice lips was quickly banished, erased as though it never existed) and interrupted him before he could voice his objection. "We're going to play hooky."
A slight smile appeared on Peter's face, barely reaching his eyes. Under the edge of her skirt Claire crossed her fingers. She wiggled her eyebrows in what she hopped was an amusing invitation but probably looked more like she was having a seizure. Claire had never really learned much eyebrow control.
Luckily her eyebrow acrobatics made Peter laugh. "Ok" he said, "Nathan will be really pissed but ok."
Claire beamed at him and Peter beamed back.
"We need to ditch the car" she said, "and make sure Nathan doesn't think we were kidnapped again."
"I have an idea" Peter said as they got out of the car. All around them teenage girls in identical uniforms (little plaid skirts and all) where heading into school. "Give me your phone."
Claire handed over her sidekick and watched as Peter called the school and informed them that Claire had the stomach flu while Claire did a silent cheer for encouragement. Luckily Peter hung up the phone before he laughed and blew the whole thing.
"All right" he said, tossing back the sidekick, "what do you wanna do?"
This time she got the eyebrow expression right.
Peter stared with dismay at the glass front doors, dreading going inside them. A glance at Claire's face told him that that she was intent upon going…shopping.
"Do we have too? He asked, hoping against hope that he could dissuade a 16 year old former cheerleader from a trip to Macy's.
Claire laughed. "Relax Peter. I just need something else to wear so I'm not stuck in this uniform all day, and we can't go home because Heidi's there. This will take like ten minutes tops."
"Oh that's good" Peter said as he followed Claire in to the store and they began to weave in and out of departments. Claire was right, she knew what she wanted and it only took her a few minutes to find it.
"I just need to try this on." She said, heading into the changing room with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, "just wait here."
Peter did wait, feeling unbelievably awkward standing in the midst of mini-skirts and skimpy see-through t-shirts. Trying not to stare at the clothes like he was an old, shocked man at what today's youth was wearing he didn't notice the saleswomen slide up next to him.
"Aren't you a little old to be shopping in juniors?" he turned, a little startled to see someone had gotten so close without him noticing. But this woman didn't seem to be a potential kidnapper; she looked like a totally normal, though fairly beautiful young women, dressed in the department store uniform. Not a threat his brain said.
He laughed. "I'm also the wrong gender to be in the women's department but here I am." he said, flirting just slightly. It had been a long time since Simone after all.
The saleswomen-Laura her tag said-laughed, showing off bright white teeth and a long tanned neck and tossed her brown hair. Clearly flirting back.
Claire frowned from the changing room door, watching the woman and Peter interact. This is our day she thought, and tried not to think about why it upset her that someone else (some other woman whispered that part of her brain) could make him laugh so easily. She walked over and tapped Peter on the shoulder, putting on her biggest, brightest smile.
"I'm ready to go" she said, letting her fingers linger possessively on Peter's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice but the woman sent her a little glare. Then like a switch went off he jumped a little and turned towards Claire. She noticed the brief flicker of something-was it fear?-on his face before it returned to normal.
"Ok" Peter said, handing Claire his credit card, "why don't you go pay for that and then we can get out of here."
Claire took the card and sent a bitchy little smile toward Laura and sauntered off, swinging her hips a little. Peter noticed and turned quickly back to Laura-who was frowning a little.
"She seems a little young for you" she said, the frown turning into a blank face, "not that I'm judging."
Peter (who had never understood what it meant when someone blanched) blanched. "Oh no" he said, his face turning bright red as he looked between Claire, who at the checkout stand gave him a smile and a little wave, and Laura who was giving him that look women gave when they vaguely amused by the behavior of stupid men. "Claire's just, I mean, she's my…"
"It's ok" Laura said, turning so she was half facing Peter and adjusting some lace shirts, "I can see the way she looks at you."
Peter literally felt his heart stop. "How does she look at me?" he asked.
"Oh you know the look" Laura said, "the possessive kind."
Peter's heart started up again. He laughed, "No, she's my niece, and today we're kind of running away from the family. I think she was just pissed because I was talking to someone else."
"Oh" Laura said, laughing with relief. "That makes much more sense, I mean, she's so young and…"
"Yeah" Peter said, smiling at Laura in a new way. It had been a long time since Simone indeed.
"All ready!" Claire said, appearing by Peter's shoulder.
"Ok" Peter said, smiling at her, to Laura, "It was nice to meet you Laura."
"You too" the saleswoman said, holding out her hand for a shake, "what's your name by the way?"
By this time Claire was already pulling Peter out the door so he had to turn to answer her: "Peter Petrelli" he half-shouted, but he was gone before he saw Laura's victorious smile.
It turned out that all Claire wanted to do was go to Central Park-Peter had been worrying about bunjy jumping off the Brooklyn bridge (without a cord knowing Claire), or standing in front of a subway, or something equally stupid and dangerous to test her regeneration skills.
But no, it was just a walk in central park and a couple of ice cream cones.
"So" Claire said, absent-mindedly munching down the bottom of her cone, "you seemed to like that woman in the store."
"Ah yes" said Peter, tossing a ball of sticky ice cream covered napkins into a trash can, "she was nice. She also thought you were my girlfriend."
Peter watched as Claire turned an interesting shade of red. He was very, very tempted to listen in on her thoughts and fought the heroic battle not to do so. Then it occurred to him that she might not just be embarrassed but….
The circumstances of their meeting where certainly not orthodox. Generally speaking as her uncle (somehow whenever he thought that word in a way that was not associated with Simon or Monty his brain seemed to flinch) he would have know her since birth, even if that occurred when he was ten. Given their age difference they would have virtually grown up together, and he would have been something like an older brother instead of…well instead of whatever it was they were.
"C'mon" Peter said, sitting on a park bench and patting the seat next to him, "let's talk."
If possible Claire turned even redder. "I know what you're thinking!" she blurted out. Peter started to interrupt with a joke about how that was his thing but she rushed on, talking fast. "And we don't need to have that conversation. I mean…most people don't meet their uncles covered in blood running from a psycho killer. But I do know you're my uncle. I just…really wanted to cheer you up this morning, I mean, you seemed like totally bummed about having to move in with us. But if you'd rather go and hang out with her that's fine."
Peter was slightly stunned. "I was just planning on saying that I know you wanted me to yourself today, not" he half smiled and gave a small laugh, "any of that."
"Oh God!" Claire moaned and sank down on to the bench, head in hands.
"But" Peter said, attentively putting his hands on her shoulder, almost afraid you would sink away from him, "I was thinking the same thing."
Claire looked up and he was horrified to see that there were tears on her face. "Really?" she sounded hopeful (Probably of just not being embarrassed, his brain said, don't be stupid.)
"Yeah" he said, wiping away one falling tear with his hands, "we're more friends than anything. Friends get jealous sometimes."
"Right." Claire nodded, "that's totally what it is." She looked shy all of a sudden. "You know, you're pretty much my best friend."
Peter stood up from the bench and grabbing her hands, pulled Claire up too. "You're pretty much my best friend too" he said, turning to take them deeper down the pathway into the park, "but I don't know what that says for my street cred, that my best friend is a 16 year old cheerleader."
"Ex-cheerleader" she corrected, "and who says street-cred anymore?"
Once again Peter laughed, "God I'm old" he said.
Claire nudged him as they walked along, "so" she said, voice coy all of a sudden, "are you going to ask her out?"
By 6 P.M Nathan was livid. First he had gotten a call from Claire's school asking if she would like someone to bring her assignments by, since she was sick. At first he was concerned, because she might have gotten sick between the breakfast table and her first class, maybe. Then he remembered a conversation she had had with Mohinder (when they were getting their blood drawn so the geneticist could draw up full DNA profiles of them all) about weather or not she could even get sick or die. He had been stunned to learn that she had never been sick a day in her life, and whished he could pass that gift onto his sons, whose childhood measles and colic he remembered all too vividly. The geneticist hadn't know the answer, but something told Nathan that her absence from school had more to do with his younger brother being with her than any illness. When the school principal told him it was a nurse who had called her in sick his suspicions were confirmed.
"Where have you been?!" Nathan roared as Claire and Peter walked in the door, laughing, at exactly 6:05 (he had been clock watching, an event he had not thought he would be required to do until Claire started dating.)
"Relax Nate" Peter said, looking a little surprised, "she was with me."
"I know that" Nathan said, "and as thrilled as I am that you two are bonding even further, I explained this morning that you need to be careful. And" he turned to Claire, "skipping school is not ok."
"Peter needed cheering up." Claire's voice trailed her as she wandered out of the entryway and into the kitchen. She would never get used to how big this house was-that you couldn't just come in and flop down on a couch-there were whole rooms to get through before you even got to the rooms that were functional.
"You should know better" Nathan hissed at Peter, his pointing finger an inch away from his brothers eye, making him back up slightly, "after what you agreed to this morning I expected better!"
"I agreed to move back in-yes." Peter said, edging around his irate brother to the freedom of the rest of the house, "and Claire and I needed a day of freedom before we're locked up for good."
"Oh for Christ's sake" Nathan muttered, staring at the ceiling as though he could beseech the heavens for better behaved relatives, or ones with more sense. He followed them into the kitchen were Heidi was cooking; something she felt compelled to do now that she could reach the counters again.
"Calm down Nathan" his wife said, stirring something that smelt like soy sauce, "no harm done. Besides I'm sure they won't do it again."
Affirmations came from both Peter and Claire and Nathan's blood pressure dropped a little. "Ok" he said, dropping down into one of the bar stools that fronted the counter, "what did you two jailbirds do today?"
"Peter got a girlfriend" Claire sing-songed.
"I did not" Peter said, "I just met a girl that maybe I'll ask out."
Nathan beamed at his brother. This was good, this was great. Ok, his new daughter had skipped school but she was fine, his brother was thinking of dating again and it was very normal. No one was talking about flying or dreams, his wife was walking (and doing other things) again and everyone was going to be safe inside the family home.
Everything was fine.
For about a month.
October rolled around and Claire was siked to see fall in the city. Nathan and Heidi even talked about taking her up to Vermont to really see some colors, and Peter was dating Lauren from Macy's who irritated his mother because of her very working class background (which Peter had to admit was a bonus.) Everything was fine.
Except Claire was feeling weird.
It started out small, like she would say that there was some weird smell around which no one else noticed. Then she pretty much stopped eating (leading to a Petrelli wide freak out about possible anorexia, which Nathan thought might be caused by depression from lack of contact with Peter) and complained that her stomach felt weird.
Then she started throwing up. Mostly this was around meals. Food would be served and she would rush from the room, hand over her mouth. Or right when she first woke up in the morning. This led to several really frustrating talks with Heidi and Nathan, and a really, really want-to-kill myself awkward conversation with Angela about bulimia.
"I'm not making myself throw up!" Claire yelled, frustrated out of her mind and at the end of roach with this latest effort to get her to confess to an eating disorder she didn't have.
"Ok" Peter said, having been called in as the best person to deal with Claire, "I know I've been kind of absent for a while around here, but you can still tell me anything."
Claire threw up her hands. "I am not staging some kind of drama because you're dating! God!"
"That's not what I…"
"Angela said that and so did Heidi but in a nicer way. I am not lonely or depressed or missing my family so much that I'm making myself throw up! I just don't feel good!"
Peter grabbed Claire's shoulders and rubbed them, trying to get her to calm down. "Alright" he said, "you don't feel good. I'm a nurse, let me figure it out. Tell me what's wrong with you."
Claire sat down and rubbed her eyes and Peter noticed for the first time how tired she was looking. Maybe I should have spending more time at home he thought.
"Well, there's the vomiting which you know about…"
Peter interrupted. "Is there some kind of pattern to the vomiting?" He had grabbed a notepad and a pen and looked very professional, almost laughably so, to Claire. She wanted to tease him about having his "medical face" on but was too tired.
"I don't know, in the morning? Whenever I eat, sometimes when I smell weird stuff."
"Do you smell weird stuff a lot?"
"All the time" said Claire. "Is this what going to the doctor is like, because I haven't had a check up in like" she thought, "ever really. I guess my dad didn't want me to."
Peter was frowning. "Back on topic Claire. You look tired, are you tired?"
"Really, really tired. Even though I sleep all the time."
"Ok" Peter said, looking extremely uncomfortable, "do your breasts hurt at all?"
"What?!" Clare blurted out, "Why do you want to know about my boobs?"
Peter felt like sinking down on to the floor in a puddle of embarrassment. Blowing up would be easier than having this conversation. "I need to know Claire. Just pretend I'm a doctor you don't know."
"Fine" said Claire, and to Peter's complete astonishment she reached down and started to very gently stroke one of her breasts, and then the other.
Clearly she's thinking about something else, Peter thought, making an effort not to let his mouth hand open, because she couldn't be doing that in front of me…oh god I'm going strait to hell. There is some kind of special part of hell for uncles who watch their nieces give themselves breast exams-and enjoy it!
"Yeah" Claire said, removing her hand and letting Peter breath again, "They're pretty sore. How did you know that?"
Claire stared at Peter, who was looking more and more freaked with every answer. Finally he put his pad down and stared at her. His face changed to an impersonal mask and he asked a question he really didn't want to know the answer to.
"Claire have you ever had sex?"
Claire choked on the water she was drinking and she was sure a little must have come out of her nose or ears or something. "How is that any of your business?"
"It's just" Peter looked uncomfortable and worried at the same time, "these symptoms, they kind of sound like, since you probably can't get sick…"
"Spit it out Peter."
"They sound like symptoms of pregnancy."
Claire laughed. "Oh" she said, laughing a little, "I thought you were going to say something terrible like cancer. I can't be pregnant."
Once again, they were getting into territory that for a verity of reasons Peter did not want to get into, "why not?"
"Well" she said, setting down her water on the table, "do you believe in immaculate conception?"
Somewhere inside of Peter a huge sigh of relief came out, again for a verity of reasons he would rather not think about.
"I guess" he said, "that these could all by symptoms of the flu, or mono. Or something to do with our genetics.
Claire smiled at the way he said our. It was one more thing that linked them, this special flaw they shared.
"But still" he said, looking extremely uncomfortable, "I need to know when your last period was."
Claire frowned. They had already established she wasn't pregnant. But she answered anyway. "Um…" she thought…"about, I guess two months ago. Weird."
Peter's head popped up. "Is that unusual?" He asked, "Is that late for you?"
Claire's face turned red but she answered. "Yeah-it's really late. Could something be wrong with my stomach?"
Peter sighed again and leaned forward to grab one of Claire's hands. "Claire, I'm goanna ask you to humor me."
She liked holding hands with him-liked the way her hand looked small inside of his, the way his skin felt-soft for a guy but not girly soft and the way their skin tones contrasted-his emo white skin and hers tanned from the Texas sun. "What do you want me to do Peter?"
"Take a pregnancy test."
"This is pointless" Claire said, sitting with Peter on the side of the tub while they waited for a plastic stick to tell them she was not pregnant. "I told you I'm a virgin. Do you not believe me or something?"
"I believe you" Peter said, "It's just that all the symptoms fit and…" He frowned. Don't tell her yet, his brain said, you'll just freak her out and you have no idea if you're right. He looked at his watch. "Times up."
Claire grabbed the stick before Peter could (it was her pee on it after all) and turned it over.
"I don't believe it…."
On the stick, in clear letter (Peter had gotten the digital kind on his embarrassing run to the pharmacy because it was easy to read) it said: Pregnant.
"It's gotta be wrong, right Peter?"
Peter opened and shut his mouth a couple of times. "I don't think it is Claire" he said, "I think I know what happened when we were kidnapped."
To be continued….
A/N: dun dun dun! Ok so, feedback is needed! Do you want to know what happens next, think you know what happened, never want me to ever write another word again? I Need to know. Coming up in chaoter two: Peter's theory, a conversaton with Mohinder, Peter and Laura go on a date and a shocking revalation!
