Part 2: "Things That Matter"

Apparently, people in the Petrelli household slept in on Saturday mornings. It was very different from the Bennet household where getting ready for weekend soccer games, taikwondo meets and cheerleading practices all conspired to prevent anyone in the family from sleeping in, even if they wished to do so. The smell of freshly made pancakes, waffles or toast would seep into her room every morning, leaving Claire hardly any choice at all but to get up and have breakfast.

It was already 10AM, but all was still silent downstairs. During her early morning reconnaissance downstairs, she discovered that everyone, with the exception of Nathan's two boys – her half brothers really, Claire still hadn't gotten used to the idea of two more brothers to deal with – who had already been chauffeured to their respective piano lesson and soccer game by an actual chauffeur, was still in bed.

It was odd to wander unsupervised in the sprawling Petrelli family home, a home that really was more of a mansion or estate deserving of its own zip code rather than a house. She had walked restlessly around the minutely kept gardens, admiring the hours of care and effort that someone had put into the kaleidoscope of flowers and shrubbery that demanded awe from anyone lucky enough to walk through them, and she had explored the entire ground floor of the house, awe struck by the rich décor and the elegant understatement of everything around her. Claire had even discovered a few additional rooms that she hadn't been aware of before although she had now stayed with Nathan for over a week; it made some quirky sort of sense, seeing as the library and the billiard room were probably the least likely places she'd ever visit.

Now she was back in her room, lying with her stomach down on the bed. Luckily for her, Zach was also a relatively early riser, at least early enough for her to call him to catch up. "What's up Zach?"

Even from a few states away, Claire could hear the wry amusement in her best friend's voice. "Enjoying your life of luxury?"

"Why yes I am." She stared down at the sepia bed sheets, loving how soft they felt under her fingers. "It's starting to feel a little like home."

"Hope not too much." Zach yawned. Claire liked that he hadn't even bothered to hide it. "Otherwise I'd never see you again. You'd be back to pretending you never knew me."

"No I wouldn't." Although he was joking, a shot of anxiety coursed through her. She had come too close to losing just those very memories not too long ago, the fear was still raw in her mind. "I'd never forget you Zach."

There was a heart felt pause, before he quickly covered it up. "Good to know, now I can rest easy. Why are you calling me at 10 in the morning?"

"Can't a girl just call to say hi?"

"Not when that girl's surrounded by every conceivable luxury in the world, flanked by the most incredible uncle ever." Zach put up a high pitched voice. "Ooooh, Peter did this today, and he took me to Central Park and we had ice cream and it was sooooo much fun!" He squealed girlishly. "We saw this movie and we had popcorn, and he was so nice and he showed me all his powers. He's my hero."

"I so do not sound like that!" Claire protested, saying it more loudly than intended. She turned around, making sure that the door was still securely closed. "Oh you are so going down when I get back. I promise you, your life's not going to be worth living!"

Zach was still laughing at his own joke. Claire drummed her fingers patiently until he subsided, glaring at the open window and trying to imagine new and horrifying ways to kill her friend. "Are you finished?"

"For now." She had always liked Zach's dry sense of humour, but obviously not so much when it was directed at her. "Okay, so what's been happening? Where in wonderful New York have you been to in the past few days?"

To his credit, Zach did sound genuinely interested. That was another thing Claire liked about him, he was sincerely interested in other people and often went out of his way to be nice to them, particularly with his friends. Her heart softened and she relented, telling him of all her escapades with Peter.

"You know, it's hard to imagine all these people you keep talking about." Zach's tone was thoughtful. "Peter's the one that can fly, right?"

"No." She huffed good naturedly. "Nathan can fly, Peter's an …" She tried to recall the exact word he had used to describe his ability. "Peter's an empath. He absorbs other people's powers."

"Like a sponge?"

"Something like that." Claire muttered.

"And your bio-dad can fly, but you haven't seen him yet."

"Right."

"You have a weird family Claire."

"Tell me about it." His comment for some reason made her pensive, thoughtful.

After a few seconds of silence, Zach said contemplatively. "You know, things would go a lot smoother if I had some visual cues." Off her puzzled silence, he explained. "Pictures, Claire. Send me some."

"What, you think I've been going around getting some happy snaps to take back home?" Claire asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Well, yeah."

"Um, no."

"Well, get some now. With your phone." Claire stared dumbly down at her phone, struck by the awesome simplicity of the idea. Zach had again cemented his position as the much smarter of the two.

Claire pretended to be put out. "Oh, all right. I'll see what I can do."

Almost as if on cue, Peter poked his head into the room, squinting against the bright sunlight. "Good, you're up." His eyes scanned her freshly showered form and her change of clothes. "And you seem to have been up for a quite a while. Breakfast is ready."

Claire turned and smiled at him, saying absently to Zach. "I'll call you later."

"Was that Peter?" Zach teased. "Say hi to him for me." Claire hung up on him without deigning to reply.

"Hey." She said brightly, hoping he wouldn't notice her flustered look. Freed from Zach's teasing, it was only then that she realised she was looking at a very horrible and particularly shocking sight.

"What's wrong with your hair?" Claire blurted tactlessly, staring googly-eyed at Peter's extremely unkempt 'morning' look.

Which was actually the world's biggest understatement. Claire had admired the way Peter presented himself, always appearing well groomed without being overly fussy or effeminate. It wasn't what he wore, it was rather the way he wore his clothes that suggested an easy casualness with himself and his life. Best of all was his hair – sleek, dark and always with that comic book, flippy quality that she didn't know could actually exist with a real life person.

But now it was standing up on end in every conceivable direction. It looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

Peter quickly tried flattening his flyaway hair self-consciously, indignant under her horrified scrutiny. "What?" He said defensively, continuing to press his hair down. "I ran out of product, okay? And I didn't have a chance to – what?"

How could she say this more tactfully? "It looks horrible. What did you do to it?"

"I have bad dreams sometimes and I … struggle." He paused, coming across to sit on the end of her bed and asked anxiously. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"

"Well …" Claire stifled a giggle at his sudden sombreness, running quickly to her overnight bag to pull out her personal supplies. "Let's see if I can fix this." She was already laying everything out neatly on the bed, wondering where to start.

"I think this can wait until later." Peter eyed her pointedly. She chose to ignore him and started brushing his hair, encountering a few knots on the way and making him gasp in pain. "Ow!"

"Stay still."

"Come on, I may be – what did you call me before? That word?"

"Sensitive?"

"No, that other made up one."

"Oh." Peter sure had a look of sleek, dark hair to comb through. "Emo. You're emo Peter. You should play it up, girls totally dig it."

"Right, emo. I may be emo, but it doesn't mean I like having my hair done by a teenage girl, who's incidentally my niece!" He finished this mini-tirade with some indignation.

"Claire? Peter?" Nathan poked his head into the room and stopped short at the scene of Claire liberally applying product to Peter's hair. "When you've stopped braiding each other's hair, breakfast's getting cold." He made to close the door but stopped. "Oh and Peter, I know you've always had a thing for your hair but come on. Leave my kid alone!"

Peter made a face at the closed door, muttering. "He spends more time on his clothes than I do."

"Here." Claire bossily tilted his head towards her again, using her fingers to lightly mould his look.

"So who was that guy you were talking to?" Peter asked with feigned indifference.

"Who, Zach?" His hair was really hard to get just right.

"Yeah." There was a pause, Claire pursing her lips. Why wouldn't Peter's hair flop the way it usually did, with his bangs partially covering his face? "Is he your boyfriend or something?"

Peter's careful tone was enough – just enough – to draw her attention away from his hair. "Huh? Zach?" She gave a little laugh. "Ah, no. Nothing like that. He and I … we're just friends."

He evidently misunderstood her tone because he pressed on. "Do you … do you want it to be something more?"

She frowned in confusion before understanding finally dawned on her. "What, with Zach? God no." She smiled a secretive little smile. "He's … let's just say he bats for the other team."

"Oh." Peter seemed oddly mollified by that answer and patiently suffered her remaining ministrations. It was only when she was finally satisfied with his look that she let him leap off the bed. "That's more normal. Now, can I take a picture?" She held up her phone expectantly.

Obviously feeling like he was compelled to agree, he allowed her to take his picture. "Er … thanks." Peter mumbled, suddenly appearing embarrassed at what he had subjected himself to. "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't ever mention this little episode to anyone, especially Isaac. He'd give himself a heart attack laughing so hard if he knew about this."

Claire smirked, secretly pleased. "It'll be our little secret."


After Nathan's mini-meltdown the night before, Peter tried coaxing Claire to stay in for the day. "We have a pool house further down the grounds if you want to use it."

"It's like, three degrees outside!" Claire protested.

"Oh, yeah." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Want to go to Times Square?"

"Okay." Claire jumped up eagerly. That was an iconic landmark she had yet to explore and having Peter as her personal tour guide was a huge plus.

"Nathan!" Peter shouted at the top of his lungs, grinning conspiratorially. Even Claire knew by now that Nathan hated people shouting inside the house; he often complained that it startled the hell out of him. "Claire and I are going out! Just so you know!"

There was silence for a few moments before Nathan appeared, looking for lack of a better term, extremely grouchy. "How many times –"

"I like to shout." Peter cut his brother off, handing Claire her red coat in the process. "We're going to Times Square. We'll remember to call if we get into trouble."

Nathan's only response was to call out after them. "Make sure she's home before midnight!"


Claire hummed tunelessly to herself, feeling a little put out. Peter had, as promised, taken her to Times Square and they had a really enjoyable afternoon bumming around the area, allowing Claire to just absorb the energy from the bustling metropolis around her. She wasn't used to seeing so many people in the one place, with tourists and locals alike criss-crossing like a sea rolling with turbulent waves.

Towards the end of the afternoon, Peter had received a call from Mohinder. It was apparently really important – so important in fact, that he had abruptly cut their day short. He had gotten her home in record time then had quite firmly but kindly told her she wouldn't be coming with them to put down some trouble that had arisen in New Jersey. It was really the first time Claire hadn't gotten her own way with him and it was disconcerting to say the least.

"Why can't I come?"

"Because, it could be dangerous." He repeated patiently for about the hundredth time. "Nathan would kill me if anything happened to you."

"But I'm indestructible. As in, cannot be destructed … destroyed."

"You're not." He replied crisply. He appeared much older than her all of a sudden. "You told me yourself. When your brain was pierced, you didn't regenerate. That means you're not invincible. You can be hurt, even killed." Peter crossed his arms, a stubborn expression on his face. "You can't come with us."

"But I want to!" Claire hated she was being so juvenile about this, but what the heck? In for a penny, in for a pound. "You're being stupid." She pouted.

"No actually, I'm being sensible. Just because you regenerate doesn't mean you can't be hurt, emotionally or physically. I won't risk it."

"You have no right!" Her voice was approaching dangerously high pitched levels. "I'm not some little cheerleader that has to be protected. I can help you – help everyone."

"Maybe. But not this time."

"You can't do this, you have no right!" She was outright yelling at him now.

"I can and I do have a right." Their argument was heated enough to make even Peter more than a little flustered. His face was red, even his eyes had a slight red glow to them and his voice was raised. "Don't make me pull the uncle card."

Claire was breathing so heavily now she felt like she had just finished a particularly hard routine. "You're too young to be my uncle." She retorted angrily, clearly having run out of things that actually made sense to say. "You're just like a stupid, stupid, floppy haired, emo slacker who can't even do his own hair properly and who's got no right to stop me from going!"

"That's the most stupidest thing I've ever heard, and why are you always so fixated on my hair?!"

They stared at each other, suddenly realising how stupid they must both sound to anyone within a ten mile radius. Grinning with sudden bashfulness, Peter muttered something with the words "sorry" and "didn't mean to be rude".

Claire shrugged, feeling more than a little stupid herself. That was certainly the silliest argument she had ever had. "Sorry."

"I know." Peter grinned at her through his bangs. "You understand right squirt?"

Claire sighed heavily, hating to concede the point. "Yeah."

"Come here." He closed the gap between them and embraced her without reservation. "I just need to keep you safe." He whispered into her ear, lighting stroking her hair. "It's my mission, it always will be." Claire flushed with the memories of all the horrible things she had just said to him. How could he be so nice and kind to her when she had just been so terrible to him?

They grinned awkwardly at each other, but was thankfully saved further embarrassment by Nathan storming into the room. "What in the name of Mary Magdalene is going on with you two? I could hear you half a house away."

Peter threw Claire a shrewd, calculating look. "You might want to talk to your daughter." He said pointedly to Nathan, grabbing his leather jacket off the couch. "It wouldn't kill you to spend some time with her you know. She's your daughter; act like you're her father." With that he strode out, leaving Claire to gawk dumbly at her bio-dad.

Nathan's eyes narrowed before he gave her a brief, accepting smile. "Heidi and mom are out at the opera. Want to grab some dinner?"

She had to hand it to Nathan. Once he decided to do something, he did it to the fullest and most extravagant extent. She found herself stuttering back. "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

Nathan thought briefly, his dark eyes boring into hers. Whereas Peter's eyes were always warm and friendly, Nathan's were closed off, glittering and cold like stone. "Feel like some fajitas?" Off her delighted look, he smirked wickedly. "Heidi hates them, but between you and me, they're my favourite. Always have been."

"They're my favourite too." She grinned stupidly up at him, feeling a connection to her biological father for the first time. Maybe Nathan wasn't such a grumpy father after all.

"All right. Just give me a few minutes to change." He looked down at his impeccable polo shirt and tailored pants. "Where we're going, this will be overdressed."


The Mexican restaurant Nathan took her to was exactly as he had led her to believe. Casual, loud and with the best fajitas this side of the galaxy.

Seeing her ecstatic expression, he chuckled. "Told you they were good."

She couldn't even reply her mouth was so full. "Delicious." Claire had never seen Nathan so relaxed; it was like he'd unwound himself and for the moment at least, was no longer the uptight upper class jerk he appeared to be most of the time.

Impulsively, he leaned forward to wipe the sauce that was dripping down her chin. He gave her a baffled smile as he caught himself, awkwardly handing her the napkin.

"Thanks." She wiped her mouth self-consciously. "And thanks for spending time with me. I know you're pretty busy and all."

He waved her concern away. "As much as it pains me to say it, Peter's right for once." Nathan really did look physically pained by his confession, a fact that would have made her smile if not for the serious look in his eyes. "I shouldn't have been avoiding you. It's … really not my style." He sighed heavily and shot her a piercing look. "So, how are you at school?"

Claire was flattered by his interest. At the back of her mind she knew that this was exactly the kind of thing he did for a living; feigning genuine interest in people he couldn't have cared less about. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she believed that at this moment at least, he was genuinely interested in getting to know her.

This was what she had originally come to New York for. She wasn't going to waste the opportunity and be held back by her fear of rejection; this chance was too precious to squander.

So she told him everything. She started with the small stuff, things like her hopelessness at math; her co-captaincy of the cheerleading squad right up until the squad's dissolution, her friends and family, how she grew up, funny little stories about her mother and Lyle. Claire was careful to stay away from the subject of her father; she didn't want to betray the confusion that was still going on in that part of her life. "So I don't really do that well at school." She finished sheepishly, holding her breath expectantly.

Instead of being disappointed by her lack of academic prowess, Nathan shrugged nonchalantly. "Peter was never good at school either. He turned out all right." He finished the rest of his fajita, giving her a generous wink. "Okay, that's another thing you shouldn't tell him I said. Otherwise I'd never hear the end of it." It was the first time Nathan had made her laugh and she enjoyed the feeling. It made her feel closer to him somehow and much more comfortable being around him. "At least you're the co-captain of the cheer squad. Most make you popular, huh?"

"I was the co-captain. They kind of had to dissolve the squad after what happened to Jackie."

Nathan nodded. He surely must have heard some garbled version of it from Peter. But Claire hadn't even discussed it that deeply with Peter, she had tried hard to forget her friend's murder in front of her very eyes. "She was your friend?"

"Yeah. She … she died because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Sylar, he – he thought she was me. Thought she had my power." Nathan stared penetratingly at her. Unlike Peter, Claire still couldn't get a good read on Nathan. He was a lot more enigmatic than his brother and a heck of a lot harder to understand.

"It's not your fault." Nathan finished his drink, glancing at her with thoughtful expression. "You finished with that?" He indicated the remains of her meal.

Claire nodded. Talking about Jackie had made her lose any appetite she had.

Nathan gestured for her to get up. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll get the bill."

His movements were so sharp and precise, it reminded her of her PE teacher when she was in one of her drill sergeant moods. Claire stood at attention, quickly putting on her coat. "Are we going home?" She asked timidly after Nathan had paid.

He laughed, although it came out more as a bark. "Better. I think you might need some cheering up kid."


Claire looked around, baffled as to how driving her to one of the most dimly lit parks in the area could possibly have the effect of cheering her up instead of scaring the heck out of her. "What … are we doing here?"

Nathan locked the car and gestured, a secretive smile on his face. "You'll see." He led her down a path until they stopped at a clearing, leafy oaks on either side of them. "Okay, so you told me about your fetish for teddy bears and your love of the mall. Big surprise for a teenager. I'm going to show you something only my family – and possibly a few others – have seen."

His mysterious approach was making her nervous. What could possibly be in this park that could have cheered her up at this point? She looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Okay …"

He stepped closer, so close until he could have given her a tight hug if he wanted to. "Just one thing. Are you scared of heights?" She shook her head, half-terrified at what he was going to do. He put his arms securely around her frame, holding her tightly to him. He whispered into her ear. "I have to make a confession. I've never flown anyone else before."

Before Claire had time to react, she found herself flying along with Nathan at an incredible supersonic speed. The wind whipped her hair painfully against her face, but she couldn't have cared less. The whooshing sound of the wind, the vast emptiness of the air around her and the clouds flying past her with the speed of a bullet – she had never felt more free in her life. She managed to shout above the roar. "Oh my god Nathan, this is incredible!"

He smiled enigmatically. "I know, isn't it?" Was all he could say, as he put on even more speed and flew them upwards towards the moon.