Title: Forget Me Not

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: With the exception of my dear Sweetie; none of them are mine. *darn!*

Summary: Set around Shadowboxing; Claire discovers an amnesiac Sylar wandering around and takes it upon herself to help him.


Chapter 10

The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could
First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything
The weight of water, the way you told me to look past everything I had ever learned
The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love

~ Make This Go On Forever; Snow Patrol

Four days later and it still hurt.

Whenever she closed her eyes all she could see was him. Him in her bed, him comforting her, his face when he didn't remember their time together, him leaving.

As childish as it was she refused to say his name.

To make matters even more painful, three days ago her father had called informing her of Nathan's death and pending funeral. Claire had wanted to yell at him, tell him she already knew, outright blame him for the situation; but she was still just too exhausted to find out what the cover story of his death was. She knew the truth, and that was good enough.

Claire gargled mouth rinse and spit it out into the sink. She didn't even bother to try and make herself look better before she went back to the living room where Sweetie waited. Flopping down on the sofa she grimaced at the nasty feel vomit left in her mouth. Sweetie sighed, "I know you're invincible or whatever, but you sure you feel alright? That's the second time today you've tossed your cookies."

"It's just stress," she reasoned, slipping her hands into the sweatshirt she wore. "Nathan's funeral is finally tomorrow and final's are basically here…amongst other reasons…" she lamely dropped off, trying desperately not to become upset again.

"Whatever you say," muttered Sweetie, not putting up with her excuses. "But I'm pretty sure this has more something to do with a certain someone who no longer is living under this roof."

"Sweetie –" Claire tried to butt in, as a fresh knot tightened in her stomach.

"I know, I know, I see him poking around here I should call your father in an instant. And I respect your right to not telling me all the details with this one, but you need to keep that in mind that I don't have all the facts as I give you advice," she continued honestly. "Are you sure there isn't any way you two could meet up? Talk about what happened?"

"No," she answered firmly, terrified by the thought. "I told you he's different, his mind was sp –"

"Mind was split, two different consciousnesses floating around, blah blah blah, that's all well and good," she interrupted. "Have you thought about how he might have been split? Maybe your telepath friend had all the evil bad bits, and the gentleman who was here had all the good positive parts."

Claire swallowed down the lump that jumped up in her throat. No, she hadn't considered that, but things were never be that simple. "Even if that were true, he's all back together now. He's back to being that crazy killer he was before."

"Might be true," agreed Sweetie, "however, it would seem to me that that good side has something more to fight for."

She leaned in to tap Claire chin, bringing a grin on both of their faces. A flicker of hope rose in Claire's chest, but she quickly snuffed it out. "Please stop trying to make him the good guy, he's really not. It would just make everything easier if I could go back to hating him."

"I don't think it's going to be so easy," warned the older woman, taking a drink of her iced tea. Claire tilted her head, not at all trying to hide her annoyance. "Do you love him?"

She shrugged, purposefully avoiding eye contact. "What does it matter now?"

"Did you ever tell him you loved him?"

A phantom knife simultaneously stabbed her in the back and gut, leaving her breathless for the moment. Flashing back to the rooftop, the last time she was really alone with him. All the things he got to say; and all the things he wouldn't let her. Somehow, him not letting her answer his unspoken question was the most painful thing he had ever done to her.

"Did he ever tell you?"

"Sweetie, believe it or not, I am really not in the mood to discuss this," Claire snapped, grabbing both full glasses as she stood, heading to the kitchen. "I told you right after he left, I need to pretend none of this happened. And you do too."

"I don't think it'll be that easy," she repeated as she too stood slowly.

Claire slammed the glasses down on the counter, "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Exactly how much sex did you have with that boy?"

"Feel free to leave at any time –"

"I'm only asking if you used any protection?"

The blonde let out an exacerbated sigh, "Not that it's really any of your business; but ever since I got my GED's, Mom and I decided I should get the shot once a month."

"Think that worked for you?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Your ability," she answered simply and Claire felt a rush of cold paralyze her body. "The way you described how your power works, seems to me vaccines like that might just get filtered out of your body." The younger girl shook her head, she had to be mistaken. "Adding up your mood swings, the odd cravings I've been hearing about, the amount you've been sick. It's all very similar to when my daughter was…"

Sweetie trailed off, nothing but sympathy in her eyes. "When your daughter was what?"

"I think you got a baby in you, Honey Child."

Claire's head reeled back as though it had been punched. The evidence the older woman lined up was true, then Angela's unexpected visit popped into her head. Feeling the blood drain from her face, she rushed to the bathroom. Digging to the back of the cabinet underneath the sink she uncovered the purple and white box her grandmother had left for her.

She ripped apart the box to pull out a pregnancy test stick to use.

In two minutes time the stick showed a red plus sign.

"Shit!"

X~X~X~X~X

Emma stood at the doorway of her filing office, watching the hustle and bustle of the hospital go on around her. It was something she hadn't started doing until recently, but she now enjoyed observing what other people were doing. On the far side of the registration desk she saw Peter Petrelli viewing some paperwork. She watched him intently stare at the papers, but she could tell his mind was a million miles away. That was hardly surprising as his brother's funeral was the next day. She had been keeping her eye on him the past couple of days, ever since the news of his death. She had watched dozens of people come up to him insisting he go home, but he wouldn't. Emma understood the need to keep busy after a tragedy, to put off the grieving until after the burial.

Though the triple shift Peter was on probably wasn't the best idea, the point was she understood.

Across the way he raised his eyes, meeting hers and giving a little wave. She returned it adding a smile with hers. The desired effect showed as he too smiled in return. Setting down the pen he signed, albeit clumsily, that he needed to talk with her before their shifts were over.

Emma was about to sign back, but something to Peter's right distracted him. A petite blonde girl popped out of nowhere, throwing herself into his arms for a hug. A hug which Peter returned and Emma couldn't help the pang of jealousy that struck her. Both leaned back to talk about something, she couldn't make out their lips to know for sure what about. After a few moments of tense conversation Peter kissed the girls forehead, another jealous stab resulted from Emma. He glanced back and forth, to be sure he wasn't needed she assumed, before he led the girl into an empty break room.

Nodding to herself, Emma stepped back into her office. Taking a seat at the computer, she slipped the ear buds back into her ears before resuming her work, trying to will the tears not to fall.

X~X~X~X~X

Claire immediately began pacing around the small room as Peter locked the door. He tried to get her to sit down, but she wasn't going to relax until she had her say. She licked her lips nervously, working up to the reason she had come. "You did tell the hospital what you're doing tomorrow right?"

He sighed, "Claire –"

"It's just weird that you're here," she continued, still fidgeting around. "Seems like they might've given you the week off or something –"

"I doubt you came to New York a day early to discuss my overworking," he stated, leaning against the table with crossed arms. "What's wrong Claire?"

She swallowed thickly. "I need your help with something, I just need you to please not be mad at me…"

"Are you in trouble? Is someone trying to hurt you?" he asked worried.

"No, not quite." Peter reached out to grab her arm so she would stop moving. She breathed out nervously, "Long story short, I met a guy about a little over a month about who could do what I do."

"That's incredible!" he exclaimed. "Where was he from?"

She shrugged ambiguously, "He didn't have any idea of his life before. So I let him stay with me."

"You sure that was a good idea?"

"No, it wasn't," she admitted, "even then I knew it was a bad idea, but he needed help."

Her uncle sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. "Where is he now?"

"Gone," Claire replied quickly. "A couple days ago his memory returned, but he didn't remember any of our time together, so I just let him go. I don't know where he was going and I didn't try to stop him."

"Do you need my help finding him?"

She shook her head, "I'm more in need of medical help from you."

Peter paused for a beat. "Medical help. You?"

"I'm pregnant," whispered Claire, watching his response. Shock was a kind word for Peter's facial expression and it remained frozen as such. "I just need to be sure of what's going on inside me and I want to avoid leaving a paper trail, just in case he comes back."

"Wait, in case he comes back? Claire, who is this guy? If you're scared of him why did you sleep with him the first place?"

"Look," she ordered. "Out of all the crap that our families have done, you and I are the only ones who haven't lied or cheated each other out of something. I don't want to lie to you, Peter. You're kind of the only friend I have left. And I promise I will tell you who the dad is some day, just not right now. It's too soon to think about."

Peter appeared to accept this, as he mulled over her request. "When you say medical help, are we talking a check up or something else?"

Her stomach dropped and she looked down ashamed. "I hadn't gotten that far in my decision," she admitted. Her uncle stood with a long sigh, walking to the door. He gazed out the tiny glass window while leaning on the jam, saying nothing for several minutes. Claire felt herself beginning to cry again, "You're disappointed in me, aren't you?"

"What? No!" He whirled around, surprise all over his face. "I'm trying to think of the best way to do this with as few people as possible knowing about it." Giving her a tight hug he added, "I could never be disappointed in you."

"I think you'd be surprised," she muttered, pulling away and wiping the tears with a small laugh. "I am so sick of all the hormonal crying!"

"I'm sure," agreed Peter gave his own laugh. Looking back out the small window he continued, "I have to go check a few rooms for equipment and sign out. Why don't you go across the lobby to wait with Emma."

She shook her head in confusion. "Who's Emma?"

"She was in med school awhile back, her dream was to focus on neonatal care. Which is perfect for you." He ushered her towards the door. "Go, I'll be there as soon as I can."

X~X~X~X~X

Emma continued to click away at the computer, not really doing any productive work, when the blonde from earlier stood at the entrance to her office. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the girl saying something, but decided to ignore her in the hopes she would leave. Still clicking on random files, the girl walked in farther and tried to repeat what she said before. Not looking away from the screen Emma only pointed at the sign on her desk, "All Requests Must Be Made in Writing".

A moment passed where Emma thought she would actually leave, but the girl reached out to tap her arm. Finally turning her attention towards her the girl mimed the removal of her ear buds. Begrudgingly she followed the request and stared at her as she spoke silent words. "Hi, my name is Claire, Peter said you might be able to help me."

"Could you repeat that?" asked Emma, just being precocious though she understood everything. "I'm deaf."

The girl, Claire's, eyes did that widened shock she so hated to see, so this girl was one of those types. "Peter didn't mention anything about you being deaf."

"He sometimes forgets to mention important things like that," she jabbed harsh enough to make Claire flinch.

"Have I offended you somehow in the 45 seconds I've been in this office?"

"No," Emma shook her head, acknowledging her own rude behavior. "I'm sorry. So how do you know Peter?"

The other blonde grinned softly, apparently getting the underlying message. "He's my uncle. Nathan was my birth father."

Oh. That made sense. Emma replayed the events she had observed earlier and they all added up to a relationship between family members. She felt a little bit of guilt as she explained, "Peter has never said anything about you."

"Well, I've kind of been the black sheep of the family, which I'm totally fine with, but Peter's the only medical guy I know…"

"Are you sick?" inquired Emma, looking over her apparently healthy form.

"No, that can't happen," she explained vaguely, her lips over exaggerating the words indicating she was no longer speaking aloud. "But I am pregnant. Peter thought you might be able to help? He said that you were studying for a neonatal practice?"

"He told you that?" she asked absolutely stunned he had brought that up.

Claire's reply was interrupted by Peter rushing back into the room. "I found us some place two floors up, Room 327. Claire, go get ready. We'll be right there." The younger girl exited and he turned to address Emma, who was beginning to feel anxious. "Did she tell you what's going on?"

"She needs a doctor, not me," she gave as an excuse.

"She needs this to stay quiet," he explained. "I can't do it alone. And I was hoping you'd help me since you have some of the training."

"Why are you having me help her?" Emma asked, feeling the guilt from Christopher's death beginning to swell up in her.

Peter reached out to touch her shoulder and a relaxed sensation flowed through her. "Because I trust you." Blatant reasoning like that, she couldn't argue and an odd sort of confidence built. "I have another favor to ask, one I was wondering before Claire came in." She tilted her head to indicate her interest. "I was hoping you would come with me to the funeral. I need someone there I really can count on."

She had to mentally double check she understood the large request. "Claire's going, isn't she?"

"But she's not you."

Emma sighed lightly, nodding with a flattered smile. Anything he asked of her, she would do.

X~X~X~X~X

In the small room off towards the back of the hospital, Claire let out a small squeak as the cold gel came in contact with her belly. Emma had conducted a brief physical declaring everything on the outside looked healthy, not a surprise to the other two in the room. "I want to know how far along. Two weeks, a month, I don't know," Claire repeated for the umpteenth time, suddenly nervous as the time for answers approached.

"We know," Peter reassured again, having just double checked that no one was in the hall to disturb them. "I know you're nervous, but you need to relax."

Claire nodded, nervous bundles twisting in her gut as she grabbed onto both Peter's hand and Emma's free arm. She closed her eyes waiting for quite awhile, before the sound of a heartbeat filtered through the room. Upon hearing the sound she wished deep down that Emma would be able to tell everything she could about the baby's health.

Just as the thought completed, a sharp gasp came from Emma and Claire's eyes flipped open wanting to know what the problem was. But she wasn't looking at the screen, she was looking in the air. "What's wrong?"

"I can see the heartbeat," she whispered in awe, just staring up in the air.

Still staring at the blonde, Claire turned slightly to Peter. "What is she looking at?"

He reached out to touch Emma's hand before a silly grin plastered on his face. "Would you look at that?"

"Look at what?"

"Emma has the ability to see colors from sound," explained Peter, attention still completely in the air. "This is just amazing. They're pulsing, changing colour with every beat."

"The colors look strong," stated Emma, also not looking anywhere but up. A hand reached up and trailed through the air. "Bold, rich; I've never seen anything like it." She returned her attention to Claire. "I think that means the baby is very healthy too, just like its mom."

A nervous smile settled on her lips and Peter squeezed her hand, letting her know whatever she decided was not going to be judged by him. She greatly appreciated it that moment. "What about everything else?" she pushed forward. "I still don't see a picture on the screen."

Truth be told, whenever people showed sonogram pictures the baby in them always looked like gray blobs to her, even pretty far into the pregnancy.

"If the pregnancy really is only a month in, there may not be much to see," said Emma, moving the sensor over her stomach. "A fetus doesn't look like a person until about the second month."

A little more time passed as Emma trailed the device around, when Peter suddenly pointed, "There!"

With a little readjusting, what could only be described as a gray circle like blob filled the screen. And it was the most beautiful thing Claire had ever seen in her life. "Is that the head?" she asked in wonder.

"Yeah," replied Emma, taking a picture. "From the looks of things, I'd say this baby is at about 9 weeks."

Claire sat straight up as terror coursed through her veins. "What?"

The movement lost both the heartbeat and the picture, but the other woman observed the saved photograph. "About 9 weeks, maybe even pushing towards 10 by the looks of things."

The world became dizzy as Claire struggled to breathe properly. "That's not possible. You've got to be wrong, or something…"

Peter studied the image as well and nodded. "Emma's right, this baby is over two months gestation."

"Oh my God! This is impossible!" she cried out, burying her head in her hands as an idea struck her. "It has to be our ability."

"Maybe it's not who you think it is," he offered with a wince.

A sharp glare was flung in his direction. "No. I only just slept with a guy three, maybe four weeks ago. About two months ago I was potentially going to be dating another girl, so, definitely no guys."

Peter had nothing else to add to that as Emma clicked the print button on the ultrasound machine and began to clean up. "If things are moving as fast as you say they are, you should have a check up every week," she reasoned, completely stepping over her last comment. "That way we might have a chance of knowing the due date."

An eerily quiet settled over the room and Claire focused on a spot on the floor in order to control her breathing. The level of panic that was continually turned over inside her was nauseating. Peter squatted to meet her eyes, his tone of voice full of regret. "I hate to tell you now, but if your body really is speeding things up, you need to make your decision sooner rather than later."

"If my body is speeding up the pregnancy, do you really think it's going to let me terminate it?" snapped Claire, feeling more and more lost. Peter backed off, looking more than a little relieved. "I'm sorry," she apologized, addressing both of them. "Please, don't tell anyone. I'll tell people later, just not now."

"Of course not," replied Peter, giving a hug. "Everything's going to be alright, I promise."

Emma nodded as she gently squeezed her hand. She kissed her cheek and left the picture in her hand. "Congratulations."

She turned the small paper around in her hand, observing the grayish figure on it. Her other hand settled on her stomach as she finally made the connection, letting out a little giggle. "That's our baby."