Disclaimer: Yep. Still don't own Heroes or, unfortunately, Nathan Petrelli. It sucks, believe me, I know. If I did, you know he'd still be rocking that hobo beard.
Thanks for the reviews: Seriously! I did not expect this much good feedback! I think this proves my point that Tim Kring should hire me for his writing staff. The public ADORES ME (I'm being sarcastic...or am I...I don't know. But thanks, all of you)!
A/N: Alright, so first things first: I'd just like you all to know that I did not intend on making this a multi-chapter story. It was intended originally to be a oneshot. But you know, I just read everyone's requests for more and it got me thinking until I figured what the hay, why not fully flesh this thing out? I mean, why leave the reader to draw their own conclusions when I can just tell you everything that happens in great detail? Besides, it's more fun this way. So yes, here's the next chapter of 'Blood Ties', my new multi-chapter story. Enjoy!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The police station had a dark, eerie glow to it, the cold, night breeze blowing in through the opened doors and cracked windows. Claire hugged herself tightly, slowing pacing around behind the podium. She could faintly recognize the sound of West breathing quietly behind her as he stepped over the yellow police line and approached her, gently resting his hand on her quaking shoulder. It all seemed so surreal- so dreamlike...only two days ago she had witnessed her biological father lying lifelessly behind the very podium she stood behind, two gunshot wounds pierced through his nice, blue shirt. She heard West sigh behind her, a chill wind from outside breaking the silence.
"Are you okay, Claire?"
Had it only been two days? Two days ago she had been caught up in the whirlwind of her father's resurrection, flipping mindlessly through the channels and reflecting over how grateful and lucky she was to have her father- the father she'd always known- alive. Then she saw it splayed on headline news, the image of the father she had never had the opportunity to truly know dying in the midst of flashing camera bulbs. The quest had begun then, the knowing sense settling itself in her very core that if her biological father had any chance of survival, it lied in her. If only it were so easy, she thought wistfully, reaching up and squeezing West's hand tightly. Her mother had, of course, denied Claire's request to come to Odessa, and she had spoken briefly with her father about it only to receive a fierce 'no.' So she did all she could do- leave a note and get to Odessa the only way she knew how with an empty wallet and a sense of emergency...through West.
Claire nodded slowly, closing her eyes and recalling all of the events that led her to this very spot- the place where Nathan Petrelli, her biological father, was gunned down. "I'm alright," she said halfheartedly, lacing her fingers with his. "I just wish I knew where he is now." And it was true; after the frenzied reports of the shooting spread across the entire nation, the news suddenly...well, stopped. Completely. As if there was something deeper going on- something dark and secretive that had bound itself to the father she didn't know. There were no reports of his whereabouts, no information about his survival or his death...nothing at all. It was as if everyone had unanimously decided to forget about it completely- to act as though they hadn't seen someone get shot twice in the chest on live television. And somehow to Claire this was more chilling than anything. Sure, she had found the place where he had been shot, but where was she to go from here? Where was she to turn when the incident itself was slowly becoming non-existent- a faint, forgettable smudge in time?
Well I'm not going to forget about it. She clenched her jaw tightly, taking in a deep breath through her nose. Not so easily...
The moon hung high in the sky, it's rays spreading out through the window and dancing on the tile floor beneath her. Her eyes found two small dots of red, now dry on the ground...her father's blood. A quick sensation of terror passed through her and Claire sunk to the floor, hope fleeing ghostlike from her body and leaving her feeling empty and horribly unfulfilled. West followed her down, wrapping his arms around her, saying nothing for there were no words of encouragement that could come- he, too, was stumped. She stared at the blood, feeling as though she should cry but finding herself hollowly unable to. It was that very blood that laced the two of them together, Nathan and her. It was the reason for everything.
"We'll just have to talk to somebody, Claire. One of the policemen...we'll wait until morning-"
"If they won't tell CNN they aren't going to tell a blonde cheerleader from Costa Verde." Her words came out flat and defeated, and even West's arms around her could not bring her from the awful sense of pointlessness that hung around her and seeped deeply into her pores. All of this had been for naught- defying her parents, clinging to West's back as the cities flitted endlessly below...it only led her here, which in turn led her nowhere. "My biological father could be dying right now, West. Who knows? Maybe he's already dead." She paused, the tears she knew she should be crying finally stinging behind her eyes. "And there's nothing I can do."
She felt his nose in her hair, his lips on her neck and he hugged her tightly, drawing in a deep breath. "We can't give up, Claire. I'm not going to let you."
She laughed harshly, still staring hollowly at the blood on the ground. "You didn't even know him, West. I haven't told you one thing about him." That was true as well; the only thing that he knew about former-Congressman Nathan Petrelli was that he was her biological father and that he had been shot on national television. Claire bit her lip, shifting slightly in his embrace. West doesn't even know my father flies...
He hugged her tighter, his warmth spreading through her body and providing a small relief from the eerie chill of the room, the harsh wind whistling through the slightly-opened windows. West spoke barely above a whisper, his soft breaths against her hair. "All I need to know is that you care about him, Claire." He paused briefly, the moonlight beaming on the two of them as they sat huddled on the blood-stained tile floor. "That's all I need to know."
A brief calm settled in her heart at these words as she watched a patch of moonlight rest upon the dots of blood, the crimson looking other-worldly against the stark white tile and the pale glow of the moon. Eyes fixed, she bit her lip tightly and sniffled, a few tears finding their way down her hot cheeks. West seemed to notice this and brushed them away with the pad of his thumb, still cradling her gently in his arms, soft and reassuring breaths against her neck. "Thank you, West."
It seemed so meager coming from her lips, so insubstantial when she thought about all the things that he had done for her. Without him she would be trapped in her white-picket-fenced home, locked in her small and suffocating room, the knowledge that her biological father was dying thousands of miles away from her gnawing away at any ounce of sanity that she had left. It was all too much, even now...it always seemed to be more than she could handle, her life. But I know I can face it with West, she thought, closing her eyes and grasping his hand tightly. I just know it...
Suddenly she realized how very tired she was; how heavy her limbs felt in his arms. She had been searching tirelessly for two days, flying without rest beneath the hot, midday sun, and although she was indestructible, her tired body demanded sleep. West seemed to grow sleepy as well, his breaths becoming slower and more rhythmic behind her, his head resting limply on her shoulder. Claire started to doze, eyes fluttering slowly shut, the image of her biological father driving away in a limousine with a rock-shaped hole in the back window flitting through her mind subconsciously, the shards of glass in the desert sand...
She bolted awake, heart racing. "W-West?"
The moon was in the exact same spot behind the clouds, the sky just as dark as before- she had only been asleep for moments. Eyes darting crazily in the semi-darkness, she wriggled herself from his embrace and shook him quickly, ears tuned for another loud noise. Her breath catched painfully in her throat. Groggily, he blinked his eyes open and stared at her, no clear expression on his face. "Claire?" He yawned loudly-too loudly- sending a painful spark of alarm tearing through her stomach. "What's wrong?"
Claire whispered fiercely, standing up and yanking West to his feet. "Somebody's here!"
All signs of weariness seemed to leave his face at once as he stared at her with wide, brown eyes, holding his breath and straining to hear any signs of an intruder. Smiling hesitantly, he considered chalking it up to her wild dreams, when-
He grabbed her wrist and ran away from the podium, jumping over the yellow police line and huddling into the corner, enveloped completely in darkness. The clear, unmistakable sound of footsteps approached, ringing loudly through the entrance hall leading up to the very room they were in, each step bouncing off the tile walls and breaking the peaceful silence from before, each footfall like a gunshot in her stomach. West held her tightly, placing her behind himself and blending in seamlessly with the darkness, barely even breathing now in pained expectance. For a moment, Claire wondered why all of this this was necessary- and then it hit her. They were on police grounds- the place of an investigation. Were they caught they would certainly be arrested, and how many more delays could her dying father endure? Not to mention this isn't exactly the average crime scene, she reminded herself, peeking from behind West's back. There was, of course, the mystery hanging around the shooting, and the deep, almost unexplainable knowledge that something larger was at work here...something herself and her flying boyfriend didn't exactly need tangling up in. The footsteps grew louder until the intruder crossed the threshold into the conference room, their silhouette becoming visible now.
"Hello?"
His voice seemed distinctly familiar, and she knew without a doubt that she had definitely heard it once before. But whom had it belonged to? His figure was tall and a tad round, the clear outline of a gun held firmly and attentively in his hand.
"Is anyone there?"
They pressed themselves deeper into the corner, staring at the faint outline with paralyzing fear as it came closer and closer, more and more distinguishable as it moved into the pale glow of the moon. Her mind began to race frantically as she clutched West's back, burying her head between his shoulder blades, fearing for the very worst, eyes fixed on the obvious shape of the gun.
His voice seemed gentle this time- less harsh and demanding and more...understanding? "I heard you- it's alright. Just come out...I'm not going to hurt you." The shape of a man lowered his gun to the side as if he could sense her wariness- her overpowering fear.
Hesitantly, the figure moved into the moonlight, his features thrown into recognition, and Claire breathed a small sigh of relief. West, oblivious to his identity, twitched crazily and turned to face her with wide eyes, as if declaring her responsible for the death that was certainly coming their way. Slowly, she placed her hand on his shoulder and inched out of the corner, smiling calmly at her boyfriend as she crawled out completely from the darkness. The policeman jerked towards her and instinctively rose his gun, comprehension immediately dawning on his face as she stepped into the moonlight. Dropping his weapon, he smiled and laughed to himself, shaking his head. "Claire Bennet?"
She smirked, heart steadying itself slowly but surely. "Officer Parkman."
The policeman instantly holstered his gun and approached her with a breathless sort of smile, as though there was no one else in the world that he wanted to see before her. As though he had been suspecting her. "He told me you'd come here," he said lightly, eyes still glued on the dark corner from which she had emerged. "You brought a friend?"
"Something like that." She paused and laughed quietly under her breath, turning towards the corner in which her flying boyfriend crouched silently, still veiled in darkness, probably staring at the both of them as though he were witnessing some highly dangerous and secret deal that he had been painfully left out of. "West...you can come out now."
Hesitantly he inched out of the corner, crawling on all fours, his suspicious face illuminated in the moonlight. He stopped, eyes glued to the strange policeman who had been patrolling the abandoned conference room so very late at night, interrupting the small nap that he and his indestructible girlfriend had been happily sharing. Palms still on the cold tile floor, West spoke tentatively, eyes and body still sharp with the prospect of having to defend himself. "Who...who are you?"
Matt looked down and smiled awkwardly, reading all of the worrying thoughts of this teenage boy, hearing in his own mind the highly-detailed escape plan that included flying out of the window. Strange. "I'm Matt Parkman." He paused, glancing quickly at Claire and then back to West, still crouched on the floor. "And I've been waiting for you."
Claire rolled her eyes at West and marched over beside him, holding out her hand and shaking her head. "Really West, it's alright. He's friends with my dad." Still staring at the policeman intensely, he slowly grabbed her hand and stood up from the floor, brushing the dust from his knees.
West spoke next. "What do you mean you've been waiting for us?"
Parkman paused, biting his lip as his eyes automatically drifted towards the podium...the blood on the ground. He sighed quietly. "He told me you would be coming. He was certain. I've been keeping watch here since...well, since it happened."
Claire approached him, trying so desperately to read the emotions in the officer's eyes; wishing with all of her heart that she could read his mind like he could hers. She could not have the answer soon enough- her heart was racing as she opened her mouth to speak. "Who, Parkman? Who said I'd be coming?" Could it have really been Nathan asking for her? A touch of elation filled her heart- hopes that her father was still alive flooding through her entire body. Please say Nathan, she thought, watching the policeman for any movement that would give away the sacred answer. Please say Nathan...
It seemed to take him an eternity to speak, the suspense more painful than anything Claire could have imagined. "Peter."
She gasped, quickly looking at West and then back towards Parkman. "Peter?"
"Yes...Peter." Something sad stole over Matt's eyes as he began to stroll around the room, approaching the podium with heavy footsteps, standing still before it. Claire followed his movements attentively, her mind buzzing from too many questions that needed to be asked. She told herself to be patient- in his own (unfortunately slow) way, Parkman would tell her everything. Just be patient. Steadying herself against the panic, she grabbed West's hand and laced her fingers with his. It always seemed to help.
Eventually, he turned around, a deep grief imprinted in his eyes, moonlight illuminating his face. At this moment Claire recognized the traces of blue beneath his eyes, the stubble on his face...the untidy state of his hair and clothes. He hadn't rested; just like her. Not for two days. Not since it happened, she thought sadly, mind taking her back to her own living room two days ago, where she witnessed her father slain as her mother's chicken dinner grew cold in the kitchen. At length, he spoke. "Peter's been down here since it happened- he found an abandoned house about twenty miles east of here. He said he wasn't going to leave until you came...he said he dreamed you were coming." Matt folded his arms and paced around the path of the yellow police line, eyes on the ground. "He says you're the key. And honestly, I hope he's right." He paused slightly. "Claire?" He looked up and found her eyes. "He needs you."
"Who?" Claire asked, already knowing the answer. She just wanted to hear his name- to hear it spoken aloud, not just repeated time and time again in her dizzied and frantic mind.
"Nathan."
She wanted to enjoy the relief that was running through her body- the lightness in her heart- but she realized it was far too early for that. She needed to know everything. "Matt, is he...is he still alive?"
Their eyes met, the answer she dreaded locked up within him, unwilling to come out. Hesitantly, he opened to his mouth to speak, making an odd, strangled sort of noise before closing it once more and clenching his jaw. "We just need to get there. Now." He walked briskly up to the both of them, his long shadow trailing behind him. "I've got a squat car outside- it'll take maybe a half an hour to get there...lots of back roads-"
"I can help." West spoke loudly, stepping towards the policeman with a look of importance. "I can get us there in ten."
"By flying? I don't think so, kid."
West look flabbergasted- almost offended. "Wait...how did you-?"
"I read your mind," he responded flatly, hands on his holstered hips. "It's what I do."
West frowned, voice rising in annoyance. "Well- Well, why can't we fly? I flew Claire here from Costa Verde in two days flat...you scared of flying, Officer?"
Matt actually laughed, a look of nostalgia overtaking his features. "Actually, no. I've done it before. And it was...interesting." A mistiness past over his eyes before he paused and elaborated. "We can't fly there because I'm almost one hundred percent sure you can't fly Claire and myself there on your back. I would tell you to take Claire alone, but you don't know the way. I'm flattered by your willingness to help, but we've got to do this the old fashioned way. If I turn on the sirens, we can get there pretty fast." He looked down at the ground and grinned, as if hesitating to say something else. At length, he decided to speak, a laugh hidden behind his speech. "Besides, you're not a cargo jet, are you?"
An odd look overtook West's face as he furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, obviously choosing not to reply to the officer's statement. He cleared his throat before speaking, glancing up at Claire and then back to Parkman, wary. "So we're taking the squat car with the sirens on, then?" West looked suddenly...excited, although the small frown on his face made it appear as though he was still trying to keep a level of control over the situation. He shifted a little on the spot, eyeing Claire, before responding. "Well...alright. I've always wanted to drive fast."
"Oh, well, you won't be driving in this case, but I suppose you'll have just as much fun in the backseat." Matt grabbed the keys from his utility belt and smiled weakly before turning towards the podium, that same familiar sadness imprinting itself into the tired shadows of his eyes. Claire wondered silently to herself as she studied him, a sort of grimace set on his face and stubble-worn jaw. Immediately his eyes tore themselves from the two spots of dried blood illuminated in the moonlight and focused all of their energy on her, something manic and pained in their expression. "I'm fine," he responded to her thoughts nonchalantly, straightening up and heaving a long, pent-up sigh. He twirled the keys around with his fingers, metal glinting in the moonlight. "Let's go save your father."
Instinctively, Claire reached out for West's hand as she jogged quickly behind the policeman, too excited and full of dread to think straight. All she knew was that in a matter of minutes- that's right, minutes, she thought in relief, reflecting upon the countless hours and days she'd already spent on the chase- she'd be seeing her biological father again. She'd be able to once more gaze into those flawed, hazel eyes and feel as though everything was connected...as though the blood that connected them had powers stronger than cellular regeneration and human flight...as though their blood made them eternally bound. It was natural; it was scientific. It was right. And the blood that bound them made them family- real, genuine family...something she could not refuse.
And I'm not about to give that up. As they walked out of the police station, a stale, night wind blowing her hair about, she gripped West's hand tightly, smiling despite herself. Not without a fight.
-------------------------------------------------
A/N: So? You like it? Eh? Basically, this is the second chapter of what I intend to be a three-chapter story, which in turn means that there's one chapter left. But what could possibly happen in the next one, you ask? Will Claire finally be reunited with her long-lost father, or will it be too late? Are everyone's intentions what they seem to be, or does someone have a- dare I say it- hidden agenda? Is Nathan really Nathan, or did Candace the shape-shifter come back to life and pose as our favorite politician only to be shot mere moments after? Okay, well that was a stretch, but you know what I'm saying. I think what I'm going to do is just have Maya come in midway through the next chap and cry everyone to death. What do you think? I think I'm going to do that unless you review me and tell me I shouldn't do that (this is an obvious ploy for reviews- I would never do that). Anyway, thanks for reading, and please-oh-please review!