Disclaimer: I don't Heroes, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission
Feedback: I'd like it, trust me
AN: Forgot to mention it earlier, but I just think I should clarify it now to avoid any misconceptions; this story will be at least somewhat anti-West (I might give him some better moments later on, but at first he'll just be a prat). If you liked him, I'm sorry, but I just can't see him as anything more than a jerk who likes to show off with his power and thought that he and Claire should be together just because she's the first other person with powers he'd ever met. Peter, on the other hand, went all the way to Texas to protect Claire just because he felt he had to, with no idea if she even had a power and convinced that he was going to die; who would you say cared more about Claire as a person rather than as a person with powers?
A Leap to Safety
As she came down for breakfast the next morning, Claire was privately congratulating herself for managing to maintain a clear head despite the very tempting situation she'd found herself in.
There she was, sharing a room with a man she was so crazy over she should probably be certified as insane, with him half-naked and no idea about the numerous reasons why she shouldn't even have kissed him last night- never mind all the other stuff that she'd been tempted to do with him once the reality of the situation had fully sunk in- and she'd managed to avoid doing anything more than that one kiss he'd given her when he'd first… appeared… in her room.
No two ways about it, she thought to herself as she entered the kitchen, you can't fault my self-control; even in the face of major temptation, I kept my cool.
"… dang it all!" her mother's voice suddenly said from inside the kitchen, breaking her train of thought and prompting her to enter the new kitchen, where her mother was standing over a pot on the stove. "My wedding ring fell in with the eggs!"
Walking over to stand beside her mother, Claire simply smiled slightly as she reached into the building water to grab the ring. The faint twinge around her skin as it burnt in the hot water was still slightly strange, but after spending the last few months getting used to the full extent of her abilities- just because she wasn't meant to use them in public didn't mean she didn't still like getting in some practice to see what she was capable of- it was so minor that it barely even registered. As Claire held up the ring before her, her hand already turning from bright red back to its usual colour, she smiled slightly over at her mother.
"We do have a colander, dear," her mother said, looking at her adopted daughter in a slightly teasing manner as she took back the ring. "No need to be flashy."
"It's no big deal," Claire said dismissively as she passed the ring to her mother.
"It isn't until it gets you noticed," her mother countered, raising the ring to her lips, blowing slightly on the metal circle to cool it down.
Claire almost couldn't believe what her mother had just said to her.
"I can't even be myself at home?" she asked, looking in frustration at the woman who'd raised her for so many years and yet was beginning to seem increasingly like a stranger to her. "It's bad enough that I have to be all fake at school."
"We simply asked you to lay low," her father's familiar voice said from behind her, prompting Claire to turn around and look at him as he stood in the kitchen door in his stupid purple shirt.
"High school doesn't work like that, Dad," she said, feeling like shaking her head as she turned to face him while her mother walked away to give them a better chance to talk. "You lay low, and you get noticed more than anyone. They have metal detectors for people who lay too low. I have to be someone."
"You know I trust you, Claire," her father replied, smiling slightly at her as he walked over to the fridge. "I mean, we got you your own car."
"Look, it's not just me we need to worry about any more…" Claire said, looking between her parents before she continued what she had to say.
It might not be the most tactful way to reveal their new guest, but it was all that she could think of to say; after her father's lies- both her fathers' lies- had nearly torn her life apart, she wasn't about to start lying to her parents about the situation she now found herself in (Lyle, maybe, but that was her brother; she was practically expected to not be honest with him).
"Peter's back," she said, once she was certain she had the attention of both of them. "Actually, he's in my room."
Her father blinked in shock.
"Peter Petrelli?" he repeated, staring at her incredulously. "Are you sure it's him?"
"Well, he looks like Peter, and he showed up around midnight on the floor after waking up in a metal box; I'd call that pretty good evidence it's him," Claire retorted, allowing herself a brief internal smile at the expression on her father's face- it wasn't often that she had the chance to shock him- before she got back to the matter at hand. "But… he doesn't remember anything."
"Anything?" her father repeated, looking sceptically at her. "You said that he 'showed up' on your floor-"
"He seemed as confused about it as I was," Claire replied, looking pointedly at her father as she continued to speak. "He didn't know who I was, he didn't know who he was, and he doesn't even seem to know about his abilities; he seemed just as confused about the teleporting thing as I was."
(Technically, what she'd said about Peter not knowing who she was wasn't a lie; Peter might have remembered her name, but he clearly didn't remember it in the 'right' context, given that he'd kissed her when he'd first appeared… and she had to stop thinking about that; what if he tapped into the power of that guy who'd broken into her house with Ted and found out how much she'd been thinking about that particular issue?)
"Uh… remind me, who was Peter again?" her mother asked, looking uncertainly between her daughter and her husband. They'd filled her in on the essential details of Claire's encounters with Sylar that had forced them into hiding in the first place, but there really hadn't been enough time to make sure she remembered precisely which of Claire's temporary friends, acquaintances and relatives did what.
"He's the one who saved Claire when Sylar attacked the school; he mimics the powers of anyone in his immediate vicinity," her father clarified, before he turned back to look urgently at Claire. "You're sure it's him?"
"Trust me, no illusion's that good; it's Peter," Claire confirmed, nodding at her father; she'd remembered his warning about Candice Wilmer, this woman who could generate illusions, but a quick check with some scissors had confirmed that what she saw was what was there. "I tried giving him a scratch on the arm last night while he was asleep just to make sure; it healed so fast it barely even had time to bleed."
"Right," her father said, almost automatically slipping into his 'take charge' mode as he looked between her and her mother. "Sandra, take Peter something to eat and maybe see about setting up a room for him, but try and keep it secret; we don't want anyone finding out about him. Claire, just go to school and act normal; we can talk more about what we do with him-"
"There's no 'talking' needed; he's staying here," Claire cut in, looking resolutely at her father.
"Claire…" her father sighed, shaking his head slightly as he looked at her, "we can't just take him in; he's-"
"He saved my life and trusted me to stop him if things got ugly; I'm not going to kick him out now just because it's not 'convenient'," Claire retorted, gazing resolutely at her father in a manner that she liked to think was one of the few good things she'd learned from her biological father; Nathan might have been a jerk when they'd met- until the bit where he stopped Peter accidentally blowing up New York, of course-, but he could deliver one hell of a mean look when he wanted to. "You want me to abandon my entire life so that we can be safe? Fine; I'll do it. Ask me to ditch the guy who saved my life and was willing to die- twice- to save people?"
"Twice?" Sandra repeated, looking in confusion at Claire.
"He didn't know about my power when he came to save me- all he really had to go on was some weird warning from the future and a painting by some future-seeing artist that showed him dead near the gym- and he wanted me to shoot him to stop him blowing up New York," Claire clarified, before she looked back resolutely at her father. "The important thing right now is that he was willing to die if it meant other people would be safe; if he's willing to take that kind of risk for people he'll probably never even meet, I don't think it's asking us too much to just try and help him now, right?"
For a moment, Claire thought that her father was going to continue to argue, but, after a moment where he simply stared silently at her, evidently trying to gauge her sincerity about what she had just said, he sighed and nodded.
"All right," he said, giving her a small smile as he looked at her. "You just… go to school and do what you can about staying out of sight; we'll… we'll work something out with Peter."
Even amid the conflicting emotions she felt about her current 'victory'- how was she going to deal with having Peter in her house on a constant basis versus the joy she felt at the knowledge that she going to have Peter in her house on a constant basis-, Claire was still able to shoot her father a brief smile as she walked out of the house; she.
That was step one out of the way; Peter was somewhere safe for the foreseeable future.
Now all that she could do was try and think of some way for her to help him get back to who he was before she did something that she knew she was going to regret…
Even as his daughter walked out of the house, Noah Bennet was only slightly surprised when his wife walked over to a nearby table and picked up a copy of the US Press.
"Did you see this?" she asked, looking critically back at him.
Walking forward to take the paper- the revelation of Peter Petrelli's sudden reappearance in their lives would have to wait; besides, he was fairly certain that the younger man was at least still asleep, so it wasn't like they'd need to worry about him coming down while they were occupied- Noah quickly took in the article before him. The headline read YAMAGATO C.E.O. DEAD AT AGE 70- followed by a photo of Kaito Nakamura that had presumably been taken as a PR shot for his company, alongside a picture of Kaito's dead body, lying spread out on the pavement with blood around it.
He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that his wife would call his attention to it, really; after he'd mentioned that Yamagato had been involved in Claire's adoption- he'd concealed the full details about it from her, of course, but he'd still refused to tell a total lie to his wife about where their daughter had come from-, Sandra had taken a certain interest in the Japanese CEO's career in case he was ever somewhere where she'd have the opportunity to thank him for giving them Claire.
What really shocked him- despite the fact that he knew it shouldn't- was the familiarity of the second picture.
He'd seen it before…
"I knew this would happen," he said, sighing slightly as he studied the image before him. "Kaito…"
"How'd you know this was gonna happen?" his wife cut in; lost in thought at the loss of one of the men who'd made him who was today, Noah briefly didn't answer his wife's question.
"Hey," Sandra said again, staring pointedly at him. "That's not the way we do things anymore. No more secrets; that was the deal."
As he looked back at her, Noah allowed himself a slight smile.
It was at moments like these that he was reminded what a fool he'd been to try and cut this incredible woman out of his old work; once she'd found out what he had done in the past, she had swiftly taken it upon herself to help him deal with the situation that they now found themselves in, displaying control and organisational skills that would have rivalled most of the Company's best men in helping him develop the necessary paperwork and find the correct location for them to move to.
"Wait there," he said, stepping back slightly as he put the paper down. "I'll be right back."
A few moments later, he was walking into the room that had officially been selected as his 'office' in their new house, a rolled-up sheet of paper in his hand as Sandra walked into the room behind him.
"You remember Claire mentioned a 'future-seeing artist'?" he said as he sat down in the nearest chair, spreading the paper out on the coffee table before him. "His name was Isaac Mendez; everything he's ever painted has come true."
He didn't need to elaborate further as she took in the picture before her; just as he'd recalled, it was an exact duplicate, right down to the angle that the 'camera' was looking at the body from, of the picture in the newspaper.
"Except for a series of eight," he continued, placing a book at one end of the painting to keep it flat as he continued to. "I was only given the first."
"There's seven more?" Sandra said, anxiety clear on her face as she studied the painting and the picture in the newspaper; allowing for the obvious differences in texture due to the materials used to create the two different images, they were exactly the same. "What's in the other paintings?"
"I don't know," Noah said grimly, as his wife looked in ever-growing horror at the images before the two of them. "But I'm going to find them."
More than ever before, he was glad that he'd become good at hiding his true intentions; he may have promised not to keep secrets- his continued alliance with Mohinder Suresh to tear down the Company from within notwithstanding-, but that didn't mean he had to share his feelings about certain topics. Given their current circumstances, with the potentially most powerful man on the planet now alive and in their daughter's room, the last thing he needed was for her to see how worried he was about what kind of future the next few paintings might show.
He knew from Peter's experience alone that what they saw in the pictures didn't always tell the full story- Peter may have died saving Claire, but their powers had guaranteed that he hadn't stayed that way for long-, but if he could find those paintings, he'd at least have an idea of what was coming for him…