Disclaimer: I own nothing. Okay? Nothing.
A/n: Anyway, here's another. I hope it's okay. This story is wrapping up…prolly 7 more and the Epi. Should be fun! It will be awhile for the next b/c I'm camp until July 6. So…enjoy it!Dani
The Hidden
Seven
Ever since he admitted he loved her, Peter had avoided her. Well, tried to avoid her. He couldn't really do it because she was everywhere.
They were required to be in the same place at the same time with the same people. He was thankful for the first time of his requirements from Nathan. They couldn't talk about it public and they were never alone. When they were Peter would have to be somewhere with Hiro or Suresh.
It was the best he could do and it had worked for the last month. Peter wanted to be with her, to hold her but he couldn't. So he ran. He didn't know what to say, if there was anything to say.
He worried that he might just kiss her and never stop.
That thought was exhilarating and horrifying.
Claire was frustrated, to say the least. She just wanted to talk to Peter and she couldn't even get him to be alone in the same room with her. She knew it was hard for him but if she could talk with him, maybe it would be better.
This is my chance. Claire followed Peter through the crowd of people.
He turned left. She followed. She followed him down a small hallway and into a door on the right. She froze and stared at the sign.
"Men".
One word that could steal her moment—but she wasn't going to let it. She was tired of things stopping her from getting what she wanted. She pushed the door open.
She looked around the restroom. It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought. Then again, this was a classy place. She was distracted by the marble floors and the shining urinals. It took her away for a moment.
"Claire!" Peter yelled when he saw her.
She looked at him quickly. He raised an eyebrow. Claire cleared her throat. "We need to talk."
"I'm kind of busy Claire," Peter said. "We'll do it later."
"No, we won't. You always say that but we never do it. We're talking now."
Peter looked at her, half-smiling. "Okay, talk." She put her hand on her hip. He smiled. "Give me a minute? Wait outside."
"How do I know you won't go invisible or fly away or phase through a wall just to avoid me?"
Peter laughed. Sometimes he wondered if she couldn't read minds. "You don't. But I'm telling you I'll meet you outside the door."
They locked eyes for a second before she walked out the door.
"I'm here. What's so important?" Peter smiled. She shook her head.
"Not here. Outside," she said. He nodded and they walked out together, but separately.
"Claire, I know what this is about."
"No, Peter. You don't. I lied," she said. The words he was about to say disappeared and he looked at her, confused.
"About what?"
She looked at him. Could she really do this? She sighed.
"About you. About us," she said. His expression didn't change. She sat down on the bench nearest them. "That night when I was over at your house, I was upset. I said some things that I didn't mean."
"Like what?"
She looked at him. He's going to make me say it. "When I said I loved you. I-I didn't mean it." She said the words and they were accompanied by her tears. But she said it. She released the words she didn't mean, the tears she did. But what she was trying to say with them, she didn't know.
She looked beautiful. He wanted to tell her that. But he couldn't. She made him laugh with her burst into the men's room. Her mood had changed since then. These words she was saying confused him.
"When I said I loved you. I-I didn't mean it." He wanted to reach out, to wipe away her tears over him, over them, over this. He didn't do it.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked. She was lying. He was going to catch her in it.
"I was just so frustrated, Peter. I didn't know what else to do or to say. I wasn't thinking straight that night. I just wanted to tell you that. Then you've been avoiding me and I couldn't tell you. I didn't mean to make things weird," she said.
He shook his head. "Claire…"
"Don't Peter. Let's just forget it and go back to the way it was, okay?" Claire turned without waiting for an answer. He grabbed her arm.
"Claire." His voice was pleading yet demanding at the same time. "Stop lying." He looked at her through her tears. "We both know that night was real. We both meant what we said."
In the silence surrounded them he could hear the laughter and music that flowed from inside out into the night air.
"How could you mean that and then act like I don't exist?"
He looked at the pain in her eyes. He knew it because it was in hidden in his. "You know how hard this is. It's so complicated."
"It's not that hard. It's not complicated. We love each other. We just love and let go of everything else."
"Everything else? That's our family Claire. That's what you've wanted and you finally got it. Can you just walk away?" He studied her face as she thought of an answer. He knew it already and he didn't have to read her mind.
"Yes. If I have you."
Peter shook his head and turned his back on her. He felt her hand touch his right shoulder gently.
"I can't do it, Claire. It's not fair."
"Fair." Claire gasped in an almost laugh. "My life's never been fair. You know that more than anyone. In a few years, I'll stop changing, stop aging—like you have already, like Mohinder said. Then what? Everyone will go away Peter. Except me and you. What then? Do I have to wait that long?"
He eyed her cautiously. "No."
She inched closer to him and he soaked in her scent. He knew he shouldn't. He should walk away—he'd gotten good at that. But he couldn't move anywhere except toward her. Toward her kiss, the one he wanted so desperately. For another moment, he stopped arguing with himself, with right and wrong and kissed Claire passionately, like two people looking for something that no one else could ever fill.
They kissed again and again, until the laughter ceased from inside. Peter listened as the music faded.
"I should leave."
Claire shook her head. "Don't. Not yet."
"It's best," he said. He kissed her softly, closed his eyes and teleported out.
Hiro blinked. How he got there, he wasn't sure. It wasn't his intention to go to the future—but he guessed it never was. He knew it was the future. It was darker. Not the light, but the happiness. It seemed gone. New Yorkers walked like normal, but they seemed void of life, scared almost.
He walked through the streets. It was August 7, 2008, according to the words that passed him on the scrolling billboard. He wondered why he was here. Something must be happening.
He walked down the street cautiously, looking for something else out of the ordinary. He didn't see anything.
As he turned the corner of 35th and 7th, there was a man standing awkwardly in the mass of people. Hiro knew him.
He looked confused. He was wearing a suit, dark with a red tie. His hair was tussled. He quickly glanced around him in all directions.
Hiro got closer. "Peter! Peter Petrelli!"
The man looked at him. "Hiro." Peter moved toward him. "What are we doing here?"
Hiro shook his head.
"We should find out."