Title: The
Queen of Hearts
Characters: Paire, Ensemble, hints of Peter/Simone
Genre: Romance,
Humor, UST
Rating: PG, for
now
Disclaimer: I
don't own Heroes or any of its characters, nor do I own the lyrics
in the summary, which are from the song Desperado.
Summary: "Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy. She'll beat you if she's able. You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet." Living with Claire teaches Peter the difference between love and infatuation.
A/N: Merry Christmas! Here is the chapter in which I spoon-feed you exposition. Sorry about that, but it couldn't be helped. Peter and Nathan just wouldn't stop fighting. Pets them That's brotherly love for you.
Chapter Two: Don't Flashy-Thing Me
The hospital staff was a little baffled at how well Peter seemed to be doing; his skin had lost its pallor entirely, and the dark circles around his eyes were mysteriously absent. They had wanted to observe him for another twenty-four hours, but Nathan intervened, and persuaded them to release him that day. So now, they all sat around Peter's hospital room, waiting for the doctor to return for one last precautionary examination.
"There's something I have to tell you," Peter began solemnly, his eyes to the floor, expression pained. He looked like a man preparing to confess his sins. "It's my fault. The explosion… it's all my fault."
Hiro gasped, "You are the exploding man?"
"What are you guys talking about?" Claire asked, feeling a little lost.
Isaac answered her, "I painted an explosion happening in New York, and then, when I was in 'rehab'," finger quotes around the word, "I painted the reason for it," slight pause, "a man." At Isaac's explanation, Peter's shoulders slumped even more, as if those words proved that everything was, indeed, his fault.
"And you think this 'exploding man' is you, Peter?" His guilty expression told her that he did, but she still didn't understand, "But why? Why would you think it's you?"
He ran a hand through his hair, "Right before I passed out, I had a vision." Finally he looked up at them. "You were all there, looking at me like I'd let you down. Except for us, the streets were deserted." He paused, letting his gaze flit to each of them, finally settling on her, "You ran away from me." His voice didn't change volume, seemingly addressing them all, but his eyes were locked on hers, and she knew that last comment was meant for her. "I didn't understand what was happening 'til I looked down at my hands."
"Does this mean you're going to turn to the dark side?" Hiro asked worriedly.
"Of course he's not," She scoffed, completely dismissing the idea, but Peter didn't look like he shared her confidence.
"Here's what I don't get," began Isaac, "Peter copies people. So wouldn't there have to be someone for him to copy? Some other person capable of… exploding?" And for the first time since he had made his confession, Peter's expression looked hopeful. "So maybe if we can find this other guy, we can make sure he – or she – never comes into contact with Peter."
"I hate to rain on your parade," Nathan interrupted, not in the least bit apologetic, "but when did my brother become Miss Cleo?" At everyone's blank looks, he continued, "How do you know that this vision of hisis indeed prophetic? He said he felt like he'd let everyone down; maybe this dream merely symbolizes how he felt after choosing his… profession," he overly enunciated the last word, making it sound like some politically correct euphemism.
Insulted, Peter bit back, "Give it a rest, Nathan. You can't seriously not believe me, not after everything that's happened."
Nathan folded his arms across his chest, tilted his head back proudly, showing he still wasn't buying into their stories of prophecy and destiny. When Peter didn't back down, Nathan sighed and said condescendingly, "You honestly believe you're going to explode? Just because of some dream?"
"Hiro saw it happen," was Ando's attempt at helping Peter.
"It's true!" followed by Hiro's emphatic nods.
Skeptically, "You saw my brother explode?"
Hiro shook his head, and Ando explained, "He only saw the explosion. He traveled to the future, to November eighth," he looked to Hiro, making sure the information was correct, "That's when the explosion happens."
"The eighth, huh? As in, the day after the election? The election you said I'd win?" More nodding from Hiro. "Wonderful. I'm going to go down in history as the congressman dismissed from office because his brother committed an act of terrorism."
"This is serious, Nathan," Peter reprimanded.
"I agree," responded Nathan with false sincerity, "If you blow up the city, I won't stand a chance for reelection."
Peter let out a frustrated huff, but didn't say anything in return. If Claire hadn't felt so loyal to Peter, and if his brother wasn't such a jerk, she would've thought he looked like a petulant little boy. Maybe that's what he looked like to Nathan, who continued to goad him, "What if we sent you on a nice, long vacation? You can't destroy New York if you're not in New York. I hear there are some starving orphans in Africa in need of saving."
And the petulant little boy was gone, replaced by a fierce man, who rose to his feet to glare accusingly, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? To get rid of me so you didn't have to deal with me?" He continued vehemently, "Aren't you going to offer me money this time? Or were you just planning on paying my airfare?"
"Guys," Isaac mediated, "this is getting us nowhere."
His body coiled in angry restraint, Peter's chest heaved as he let out harsh breaths. Nathan merely stared back at him coolly.
Finally, Peter relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders as he sat back down beside Claire, who was looking up at the clock, biting her lower lip, and fidgeting with the hem of her uniform top, which Peter noticed, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," an instinctive response, but she backtracked, telling him the truth, "It's just, my dad gets off work soon."
She was starting to panic a little. Why hadn't she thought about her dad sooner? Well, she supposed she had, when Isaac and the others came looking for her, but then they'd told her Peter needed her, and she'd thrown caution to the wind, leaving with them before she'd thought out the consequences. Now that Peter was awake and healthy, the dread and anxiety was setting in.
"Do you need to get home?" Peter asked.
"I can drive you," Ando offered, already in the process of standing.
"No!" she exclaimed, surprising everyone. "He can't see me with you." Her eyes widened as realization hit, "He's gonna know I ditched school."
Isaac chuckled, "The worst he can do is ground you, right? I spent a lot of time being grounded when I was in high school; it's not the end of the world."
She shook her head, "You don't understand. Getting grounded is the best case scenario,"
"Claire," Peter's expression was soft, his voice soothing, "will he hurt you?"
"He doesn't beat me, if that's what you're asking." Frustrated, she paused, considering whether or not to tell them her real fear before deciding to just take the plunge, "He's gonna know I remember. He might already know."
Peter, not comprehending, "Remember what?"
But Claire was shaking her head, silencing him, "There's something weird going on with him…" She kept going, rambling about her dad's creepy henchman whose power was the equivalent of the flashy-thing from Men in Black and how he used that power to wipe her friend and brother's memories.
Finally, she turned to Isaac, "He knew you could paint the future. How would he know that? Why would he know that?" She could practically see the cogs turning in their brains. "God, I used to think he was just a normal dad with dorky glasses, but now I have no clue who he is."
Everyone was looking at her, not knowing what to say after her outburst, until Isaac conceded, "He does wear dorky glasses." And the tension was broken.
Claire laughed along with everyone else, feeling the anxiety drain from her body. "I kept trying to pick out new frames for him, but he's freakishly attached to those horned rims."
"Horned rims?" Peter asked; she was a bit thrown off by how intent his voice was. "Nathan, didn't you say one of the guys who tried to kidnap you wore horned rimmed glasses?"
Stunned, Claire asked Nathan, "My dad tried to kidnap you?"
"There are thousands of people who wear those glasses," Nathan replied. "What are the odds that it's the same man?"
"But it's possible," Peter pointed out. "And what about the memory-wiping guy who works for her dad? Maybe he's your 'spooky Euro dude.'"
"You're reaching."
"This can't all be coincidence," Peter argued. Claire and the others just sat and watched them volley back and forth.
"Fine, let's say this little theory of yours is correct, and her father really is part of some conspiracy," Nathan sneered, "What do you think you're going to do about it?
"Well, I have to do something!" He was back on his feet. "It's my job to look after her!"
Nathan responded exasperatedly, "Says who?"
"Every one!" he gestured wildly, "Hiro from the future, Isaac's paintings!" And then, most vehemently of all, "Me! I say so!"
"What are you going to do?" Nathan responded contemptuously, "watch her twenty-four/seven?"
"If I have to!" Peter yelled back defiantly.
"Oh, the media will love that," Nathan raised his hands, mimed the headline of a newspaper, "Candidate's brother travels cross-country to stalk cheerleading Lolita."
"She's very photogenic, so the paparazzi should get some nice pictures," offered Ando, and the comment was so unexpected that both brothers turned and looked at him as if he'd grown another head.
Finally, Nathan turned back to Peter and reasoned, "Peter. You're being irrational."
"Someone tried to kill her, Nathan. And who knows when he'll try again?" Peter's statement made her blood run cold. Claire hadn't given much thought to the possibility of the man coming back to do the job properly. Peter finished resolutely, "I can't let her die."
"Well, you can't stay here, either," Nathan shot back.
Peter didn't argue, just stared back Nathan, considering. "You're right. I can't stay here."
"Finally, some sense." Nathan sounded relieved, but Peter wasn't finished.
"She'll have to come stay with me." Claire felt her world turn upside down for the hundredth time that week. It had flipped so many times she didn't ever think her feet would find the ground again.
Nathan looked horrified, but Peter ignored him, his mind made up. He turned and knelt in front of her; he looked determined, resolute. "What do you say, Claire?"
In the background, Isaac, Hiro, and Ando wore nearly identical expressions: eyebrows raised in disbelief, mouths parted in shock. But all Claire could focus on was Peter's imploring gaze.
"It's not safe here," Peter told her firmly. "Whoever it is that's after you knows where you live. He could come back at any time." She felt a trickle of fear but knew he wasn't saying these things to scare her. He only wanted to make sure she knew the reality of the situation.
She could hear Nathan ranting, listing off all the reasons this was a bad idea: her age, school, her dad…
But Peter unwaveringly held her gaze, waiting for Nathan to finish before he spoke to her quietly, earnestly, "I can't argue with what he's saying, Claire. I don't have all the answers. But I promise you, if you come with me, I'll do everything in my power to protect you."
She stood at the cliff's edge, fear anchoring her feet to the ground, as she stared down into the abyss.
"Trust me." The final reassurance she needed.
She jumped, confident he would catch her.
---
Claire was crammed in a seat between Peter and Isaac, nerves tingling as the plane ascended into the air.
"I can't believe you made me downgrade to coach. I despise coach," Nathan complained from the other side of Peter. She suspected he was still sore about losing the argument with Peter.
After she'd agreed to go back to New York with Peter, Nathan had made several derogatory remarks about shacking up with minors, but Peter ignored him, satisfied with her answer.
He'd had her write a letter to her parents, told her she should offer them a believable reason as to why she'd run away. The only thing she could think of was that she was traumatized by what happened to Jackie. Hiro eagerly took up the mission of delivering her letter, promising to pack for her while he was in her room. When he reappeared almost immediately, he was holding the suitcase she'd only ever used for family vacations. Not long after that, the doctor returned to tell Peter he was free to leave, and Nathan shook his head resignedly and pulled out his cell to make flight reservations.
He'd only had to buy four tickets, as Hiro insisted on him and Ando fulfilling their "heroic journey," which Ando said was Hiro-speak for not being able to ditch their rental car.
Although she didn't regret her decision, there was still some residual fear. When she'd agreed to go with Peter, she hadn't really considered the logistics of her decision. She was going to be rooming with a practical stranger, and even though she trusted said stranger with her life, the thought of living all alone with him was nerve-racking. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying with you?" she asked Peter worriedly.
Nathan took it upon himself to answer, "If you're having doubts, I can always ask the pilot to turn the plane around. Of course, he probably doesn't take requests from people sitting in coach…"
"Don't listen to him," Peter grinned at her. "He's just jealous because the pilot can fly better than he can."
Nathan grumbled, and she could've sworn she heard him mutter, "Like hell, he can."
"Gum?" Claire turned her attention to Isaac, and then looked down at the proffered stick of gum. "Go ahead; it'll help with the ear popping."
She smiled and took it. "Thanks."
"No problem," he shrugged good-naturedly, "I have a ton of it."
As she opened the wrapper, she asked curiously, "Do you just really like gum?"
"It's supposed to help with cravings," was his wry response.
"Are you trying to quit smoking?"
He shook his head. "Not smoking. Other drugs. Bad drugs that you should never try."
She nodded her head obediently, "Got it. Drugs are bad. Just say no."
"Smart girl," he approved.
Claire rolled her eyes but kept smiling. "So, does the gum work?"
Isaac shrugged, "Don't know, but at least it's not hurting anything."
"Except your teeth," she teased.
Peter, who'd been listening to their conversation, leaned forward and slightly over her lap so he could see them both. "Cut the poor guy some slack, Claire. He's entitled to one vice… even if it is going to cost him a fortune in dental bills." He shared a conspiratorial smirk with her before leaning back in his seat.
---
When she and Peter finally arrived at his apartment, she was exhausted. He'd opened the door for her and gestured her inside, and she'd stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly as he pointed out the various rooms.
Finally, Peter suggested they get some sleep, and she excused herself to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She took her duffel bag with her, dug around for something to sleep in, hoping Hiro had packed some sort of pajamas. She changed into a loose tank top and a pair of pajama pants, brushed her teeth, and washed her make-up off her face, before heading back to the living room. The couch was already made up with bedding, so she raised the blanket and slipped in underneath it, stretched her body out, and snuggled into the pillow.
"You're in my bed," accused Peter's voice.
"What?" she replied dumbly.
"I'm taking the couch," he explained. "Your bed's that way," he gestured toward the door of his bedroom.
"Peter, I'm not stealing your bed. I'm the guest, so I should sleep on the couch."
"Claire…"
She didn't give him the chance to persuade her, "Besides, I'm already nice and comfy. I don't think I could make it back there if I tried." When he didn't argue, Claire gave a tiny smile of triumph. "Good night, Peter."
"Night, Claire," he took a few steps toward the bedroom door before pausing and turning back to her. "Hey Claire. Out of curiosity, do you have any other powers? You know, besides healing?"
"Not that I know of," her brows furrowed slightly, "Why?"
Peter ignored her question. "No laser vision? Super strength?"
"No," she giggled sleepily.
"Good," and he was marching back to her. He pulled the blanket off her, picked her up – one arm supporting her back, the other under her knees – carried her into the bedroom, and dropped her on the bed. He pointed an index finger at her and commanded, "Stay."
So she did.
He turned around and started back for the living room but paused in the doorway. He looked over his shoulder, and tossed his own triumphant smile back at her, before shaking his head amusedly. "Sweet dreams, Claire."
---
A/N: Whew, glad this chapter's over. I spent the majority of Christmas Eve working on this story, trying to find a way to cover all the information without completely bogging down the chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!
