Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Nathan called as Peter was getting off of work one night. He was ranting about something, and ordered him to come over. Peter was too tired to do anything more than mumble an assent.
So Peter shuffled up to the Petrelli home, still in his scrubs. And when he opened the front door, he was smack dab in the middle of World War III, the two factions being his niece and his brother.
The minute he walked in, Claire dashed over to him, and started arguing her case.
"Peter, tell him that my grad party isn't one of his retarded political functions! Tell him he can't do that to me!"
Peter looked at Nathan, who's face was very red and his suit jacket was off, sleeves rolled up. Never a good sign.
"She's being unreasonable, Peter. She can have the big party, but if she does, I have to have a guest list of at least 200. I thought she knew this. I can't have this big of a function and not invite certain people," said Nathan.
"It's my party." Claire's arms were crossed and her eyes were glazed with tears. "I shouldn't have to invite your political people to the first real party I've had since I came here."
"Just listen to me for a minute!" Nathan paused, and took a deep breath. "A big party means you're my daughter officially, with all the bells and whistles, fully acknowledged. And I'm glad for that, I'm happy to do that." Claire scoffed. "But you've got to understand that it would be an insult to the people I work with if I didn't invite them."
"I thought the party was in like two weeks," said Peter confusedly.
"It is," said Claire. "I've got less than two weeks to basically re-plan the whole thing, but for 300 people this time."
"I told you I'd hire a planner. I'm more than happy to hire a planner," said Nathan, his hands open in exasperation.
"I don't want a planner! I want to have my party the way I wanted to have it," said Claire.
"And you can, just be realistic here," said Nathan.
Claire ignored her father and looked at Peter. "He called and cancelled at the place I wanted. He moved the party to a stupid hotel."
"The Four Seasons, Claire. Jesus," said Nathan. "And I tripled your budget. Isn't that enough?"
"You think I care about the money? I just want a party that's my own. We could have it at Showbiz Pizza for all I care," said Claire.
Nathan looked genuinely perplexed. "I thought you'd be happy about it."
"Whatever. It's not what I wanted." Claire turned to Peter. "He bought new invitations and everything, you know," and a tear sneaked down her cheek.
Two years ago Peter would have wiped it away. Instead he just stared at her for a minute, and then cleared his throat. "The Four Seasons is a really nice place, Claire. I think you'll like it---"
He couldn't finish his sentence before Claire gasped and pounded up the stairs to her room.
"Damn it, Nathan." Peter turned angrily to his brother. "Did you call me to come referee an argument?"
His brother sat heavily in his favorite leather chair. "Yes. Yes I did. Sometimes I wish I could just send her back to Bennett."
Peter frowned. "His memory of her is completely suppressed. It wouldn't be safe for them if she went back. Or for her."
"I know. I know that. But I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," said Nathan.
"Can't you handle this yourself? She's your daughter," said Peter.
"She won't listen to me." Nathan said it in a voice that told Peter he should have known that already. "You have to talk her through this."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but she's barely speaking to me these days," said Peter.
"She's a teenager. Moody and difficult. She's about to move out and she wants her independence. I get that. I just need her to listen to reason about this party," said Nathan.
"Just go talk to her. Please." Nathan put his arm on Peter's shoulder.
"Fine."
-----
It's hard to say how difficult it is, to stand there and watch her cry, and know he can't defend her because if he does, everyone's going to know.
And now he's knocking on her door, the door to her room that he hasn't been in for months.
-----
"Go away!" Peter heard Claire yell from inside her room.
"No. Open the door," said Peter.
"You took his side! You always take his side!"
"I wasn't taking any side, Claire. I was just trying to explain to you," said Peter.
"Get away from me!" Claire and Peter used to have fairly regular shouting matches, and Peter was accustomed to hearing her screech at him. The weeks he had spent carefully avoiding her apparently hadn't created any unfamiliarity between them.
"I won't," said Peter sternly, and he felt his temper rising. "Open the door, Claire."
"Why? So you can try and make me feel better about having my party jacked by Nathan?"
"I just want to talk," said Peter, and twisted the handle of her door. Locked.
"NO! Get out of my life!"
D.L.'s face flashed briefly in his mind. Peter's fist shot through her door, and twisted the lock, which seemed marginally less rude than completely walking through the wall. He threw her door open.
Claire had been sitting on her bed, and she shot up from it to stand in front of Peter. "Get out," she said in a low, angry voice.
Peter slammed the door behind him. "God, you piss me off!"
"Yeah, well, right back at you! Get out of my room!" She shoved him on the shoulders.
"Just shut up and listen to me for a minute, will you?"
"No, I won't! You took his side over mine, Peter!" There were tears rolling down her cheeks now, and her face was pink. "You always take his side. You'd take everyone's side before you'd take mine!" And she pushed him again.
Peter grabbed her hands and held them down. "Stop it! That's not true and you know it. I've fought for you more than I've ever fought for anyone in my life!"
"What do you mean? You couldn't move fast enough to back up your brother! I haven't seen you for weeks. Clearly I'm somewhere near the bottom on the list of people you give a shit about. It's always been like that!"
Peter didn't mean to lose his temper, but he was tired, and frustrated, and it all came boiling out at once.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" He dropped her hands, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "I came to save you in Texas when I didn't even know your name! I jumped off a building for you, Claire! I work every day to keep you safe!"
Claire didn't say anything, and the anger slowly seeped from her face. "What do you mean?"
Peter let go of her shoulders and took a step backward. "Nothing. I mean, I don't want bad things to happen to you, okay?"
They were both silent for a moment, the fury in the room slowly simmering down to a dull stillness.
"About your party," said Peter, and he thought for a second about how to say what he wanted to best.
As he did, he glanced at Claire's room. It was the first time he had seen her new room. The walls were a shocking color of crimson, and the floor was a mess – littered with clothes and shoes and magazines. He used to spend a lot of time with her in her room when she was younger, watching movies, listening to music, talking.
Peter's forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "Is there some sort of compromise we can come up with?"
"Well, I'd rather not, but it looks like I'm not getting what I want," said Claire nastily.
Peter said nothing.
She sighed, and her eyes darted back and forth. "I want to go on a cruise in Hawaii after graduation. With my friends, like Nathan promised."
"I'm sure he'll do that."
"And I want you to help me at the party," said Claire.
"Me? Why? I don't know anything about parties."
"All I want you to do is keep Nathan and his stupid guests away from me that night," said Claire.
Peter sighed. "Alright. But would you go down and tell Nathan the deal? There's no reason to keep a fight going."
Claire turned away from Peter, and sat at her vanity. She fiddled with a few bottles that were lined up there. "You can do that."
"Claire…"
"No. No. I'm basically turning my graduation party, which has been planned for months, into a political rally for Nathan. So he can just deal with me being mad at him for awhile," said Claire.
"Life is too short for grudges," said Peter.
"Thanks, so much, for that. I really needed to hear that tonight," said Claire sarcastically.
"Wait, I'm sorry - geez."
"Just go." The look that Claire gave him in the mirror was, he swore, the same one she gave him in the car mirror two months ago, when she told him to stay out of her thoughts.
He did what she asked him to. Just slipped out the door, and clicked it shut softly.
-----
He can beat death, blow up the world, stop time and space, and kill a man with his brain. He can fry an egg on the palm of his hand, be invisible, and read the mind of anyone, if he thinks hard enough. He can win the lottery a hundred times over and be the richest man on the planet. He can fly.
But it seems to him that he can't do anything he really wants to.
-----
Peter didn't lift his head up when Tani sat down in the familiar chair in front of him.
"You look sad today," said Tani "Are you?"
"No." Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Just tired."
"Were you up late…gambling?"
Peter thought for a minute. There was no reason to suppress what happened last night. For the most part at least.
"No, I was just out late at my brother's."
"Your family. We haven't talked about them much," said Tani. "Are you close to your brother?"
Peter nodded. "My mom lives with him too."
"Is your brother married?"
"Yeah, with two kids…great kids. Boys. They're fun. And, uh, he has an eighteen-year-old too."
"You like your sister-in-law?"
"She's great. Too good for my brother," said Peter with a chuckle.
Tani nodded. "And are you at their place often?"
"No, not usually. I mean, I go over on Sundays, for dinner," said Peter.
"So, what was so special about last night?"
Red lights were blinking rapidly in Peter's head, but he chose his words carefully. "My brother got into a pretty bad fight with the oldest kid. He asked me to come help."
Tani faked a look of shock. "Like, back up? One of you holds, the other punches?"
Peter grinned. "Nah. I haven't beaten anyone up lately. And anyway, his oldest is a girl."
"Ah, I see. Sorry. I guess I thought – anyway. So why did your brother call you to help?"
Peter shifted in his seat. "Um, I think that my brother thinks I get along well with her. That she listens to me."
"Does she?"
"She used to," said Peter, and it was a strain to keep his forehead from wrinkling.
Tani nodded slowly, and probably would have asked some more questions, if his three o' clock appointment hadn't opened Tani's door, making Peter stand up in a hurry and apologize for going over time.
-----
What was supposed to be an effort to fix his 'gambling' problem becomes just another person that he has to hide things from, watch what he says and how. He decides he can't take it this week and cancels his appointment. Says he has a summer cold.
He tells his brother he's got a cold too, and can't make it on Sunday. On Saturday night he orders a pizza and watches Braveheart in his pajamas. He reads Coleridge in an act of self-flagellation and drinks a whole bottle of wine. He bucks up on Sunday afternoon and writes a note reminding himself to take his tux to the cleaner before Claire's party on Saturday.
