3
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Claire is unprepared for the sky to explode.
In her mind, she never actually believed it would happen, she thinks. All the talk of 'it's gonna be me,' and 'gotta leave the city' and 'end of the world,' and somewhere in her head she still always thought of it as a lie, a storyline from a comic book. Maybe it's a leftover from so much time with Zach, maybe it's just because all of it is just so insane, she doesn't care. Oh, okay, my dad just got shot. My biological father is a Congressman. Peter's my uncle, and now we're running from the FBI because he's gonna blow up the city. Whatever.
But in a way it hurts more because of it, the jolt, the spark, the wave of heat, the blinding light. How could it not hurt more when for all the times she was warned, she still truly didn't see it coming?
Her father's arms lock solidly around her waist and pull her back from the Plaza, away from the strange woman and her bleeding husband, from the little girl and the guy with the strange accent. Claire gasps for air and collapses to her knees, her father's hands on the back of her neck.
You're in shock. Breathe, Claire-bear. Breathe.
She barely hears him over the roar of the city in her head. Her vision expands, then narrows to a single, grey dot, and noises rise until all she can hear is people shouting, car horns honking, shuffling, walking, running, living, busy busy New York action.
Peter loves the city, she knows. In the week she'd stayed at the Petrelli mansion, he'd taken her out on the streets whenever being there got to be too much. He bought her an authentic street vendor hot dog and a small keychain with a New York City teddy bear charm on it. They'd made an attempt at the Met, both of them pretending to be interested until she'd caught him dozing off in front of a Manet. He'd laughed and taken her to Bloomingdale's instead. She'd bought a scarf, blood red with lines of black silk.
Aren't you scared? she'd asked him.
The sky was raining fire. Petrelli fire. Peter and Nathan fire. Not her family, but…something…else. Something.
Terrified, he'd admitted. But…not, at the same time. You know?
Claire knows.
--
Let's go home, her father had said. Home is anywhere our family is together.
Well, yeah. Okay.
They stop in Odessa first, for a month. Appearances must be kept, after all, and Claire winds up giving over-rehearsed speeches to her teachers about her extended vacation in Aspen. To recover – from Jackie, and that terrible chemical fire at her house, of course. They tut and shake their heads. Such a pretty girl with such horrible luck. What's the world coming to, anyway?
Somehow, Claire isn't surprised when she finds that Zach has forgotten, again. She almost doesn't have the energy to start a new round of memories, but she drags him around to the familiar spots all the same. New start, new memories, new tape.
After the familiar questions and freaking out ends, Zach is urgent, pressing her for answers and knowledge. Where did she go? She wasn't in Aspen, was she? What happened? Wait – New York? You weren't there for that freaky radioactive explosion, were you? Oh my God. That is so cool.
His excitement gives her something new to think about, at any rate. And it's almost a strange kind of comfort to be hiding something from her father again. Not that she thinks he'd really care much, but the reflex is familiar. Claire values familiarity highly these days.
There's a box of things recovered from the fire. Her box is slightly bigger than Lyle's just because of the proximity of her room and the kitchen, where the explosion was located. The first thing she sees is Meredith's Mexican necklace, the jewelry that had once meant so much more to her than it was. It's charred and the chain is broken, and Claire fingers it for a moment before passing it off to the secretary at the fire station. I don't need it anymore, she says.
Still, she visits Meredith, for closure, she guesses, and finds an empty trailer. She'd left behind a phone number, though when Claire calls it Meredith's voice is empty and airy, claiming that she'd never had a daughter and she has no clue what Claire is talking about. Oh, honey, I think you've got me confused with someone else.
Right. Claire's really sick and tired of hearing people say that to her.
She finishes out her junior year (isn't it strange, to go from saving the world to Chemistry tests?) and they quickly leave Texas behind. The saddest thing about it is that Claire can't wait to leave.
Zach hugs her at the airport and gives her a graphic novel about the X-Men to read on the plane. For inspiration, he says.
Strangely, tears spring to Claire's eyes, which startles her. She hasn't cried since Kirby Plaza. Thank you, she says. Don't forget about me, okay?
Third time's the charm. He winks, then Dad pulls her through the gates and he's gone.
She wonders idly if she'll ever see him again. Part of her knows she won't.
--
They tell Mom and Lyle what happened on the plane. Claire is a bit reluctant about this, of telling them at all, and the method. But apparently, planes are safe. The noise makes it safe from electronics, the height makes it safe from…other things. Claire thinks of Nathan and isn't so sure.
Her father speaks in general terms, specifying nothing. We were in New York when the explosion happened. Claire was with her biological family, who were involved. What she can do…it had something to do with it. She's fine, though, she was never in any danger.
Well. At least Claire can tell when her father's lying now.
Her mother cries. Lyle backs into the furthest corner of his seat and looks down at his hands. Claire is reminded of that day with Zach in assembly.
She was very brave. Her father's voice is proud, slightly choked, and Claire feels intensely ashamed all of a sudden. She did everything right. She's a hero.
Oh, honey. Her mom hugs her. Claire wants to pull away and slap her. Stop doing that. Stop. Claire didn't do anything. She pointed a gun and lost her courage. That's it.
Later, Lyle starts looking at her again. So…you're like a superhero mutant, then huh? Lyle indicates the X-Men comic, sitting on her fold-down tray.
No. She recoils. No, I'm not anything. I'm just a girl.
That's not how Mom and Dad see it. There's just enough bitterness in his voice for Claire to feel guilty.
No, they don't. Claire can lie, too.
--
California isn't at all like The OC, she learns.
Their name is different. They're the Wells family, from Houston. On her school papers, she has to remember to write Claire Wells. She doesn't want to think about whether her automatic response would be Bennet or Petrelli.
Her father is different, now. He treats her like an adult, an equal. They spend long nights in the living room, glued to the television, watching CNN and MSNBC and looking out for mention of Congressman Petrelli or the businessman from Vegas, Linderman.
He tells her of the Company and its beginnings, and Claire slowly starts to understand him as a person, rather than a father. She thinks that it's a painful pedestal to fall from, especially in such a jarring way as Noah Bennet did. She also thinks that it's the hardest part of having children, the moment when you realize that half their love is instinctual, mandatory, and what happens when that illusion is ripped away? What happens when they're old enough to understand words like 'adoption' and 'ability' and 'biological?'
So it's different, but not worse. She feels like she's been clawing away at this relationship, ripping away layer after layer until finally finding something real. Something she's willing to fight for.
It's about two weeks into the new school year when he finds something. She isn't really sure what, but it's a testament to the new level of trust and respect that he lets her come with him.
A hospital, in New Jersey. A delirious, rambling Nathan Petrelli. Claire walks into the room and promptly backs right back out to catch her breath.
He clutches at her arm, and she thinks he remembers her until his eyes fog over and he starts calling her Heidi. She brushes off her father's hands and lets him hug her, whispering things that make no sense into his ear.
It's a real hug this time, not the staged stiffness that were his sparse hugs in New York. He clutches to her tightly, and she thinks she realizes, a little, why Peter loves him so much.
She wants so badly to ask him about Peter, but his face is dark from soot and tears and she knows he doesn't know anyway. She takes his hand and looks over at Noah Bennet, her question in her face. She doesn't even have to say it.
--
They stay in Jersey for four weeks while Nathan recovers. At some point, her father takes care of the paperwork, inventing a name and a cover for him, so as to avoid publicity. Even now, the television is flashing his picture at every news hour, desperate for information on the freshman Senator's disappearance. Claire thanks the heavens that nobody recognized him during the two days he was in the hospital.
He regains his senses slowly. One week in, he says her name and Claire jumps up, nerves jolted. But then he says Meredith's name too, and she realizes he's just rambling. She goes back to her book, surprised to realize that she's disappointed.
Every night, he awakes screaming. Claire and her father sit with him most nights until the nightmares cease, and after that only Claire sits with him. She thinks her father knows, but understands, in a way.
It's strange, being in such close proximity to both Nathan and Noah. Her two fathers, both so special to her in such different ways. She can't pretend to be repulsed or disdainful of Nathan anymore, not after Kirby Plaza. Not after he came around, in the end. Not after he told her that the future wasn't set in stone. She's so damn proud of him she could burst.
After a month, Nathan wakes up one day and asks about Peter.
He's… Claire stammers. Noah is out, getting food, and she was blissfully immersed in Kurt Vonnegut when Nathan had suddenly appeared in the bedroom doorway of the hotel room. I don't know where he is, Nathan.
He sways on his feet. His lips barely move when he speaks. Claire?
She stands, book falling from her hands. Yeah. Yeah, it's me.
A look of desperation comes across his features and she takes an involuntary step forward. What…what happened?
Oh, Nathan. She initiates the hug this time, and he accepts it. Peter…the sky exploded. You saved us.
His entire body is so tense she can feel him shaking from it. No, I didn't, he says.
--
That night, they talk about Peter.
I don't remember, Nathan chokes out. I can't…after I spoke to you…there's just nothing. Claire shoots a startled look at Noah and automatically thinks of the Haitian. She's so sick and tired of people forgetting things.
That's normal, her father assures. After a traumatic experience. In the hospital, you were delirious. You're still weak, even now. It will take a while for your memories to return. Claire almost believes him.
So there's a chance that Peter's alive, isn't there? Claire asks hopefully, after Nathan has succumbed to exhaustion once more.
Maybe. Her father's voice is hesitant. Please don't get your hopes up, Claire-bear. We don't know anything for sure.
--
It's getting to be November when Nathan brings up the concept of his family.
I have to see my wife, he says, with a startling look of guilt to Claire. Heidi…she must be worried sick. My boys…
Noah nods solemnly. We'll get you back to New York. But we need a plan.
They end up dropping him off in the Bronx. The next morning there's breaking news on the television, the heroic story of the freshman Congressman and his struggle with his brother's disappearance. Claire shakes her head. There's no way that Nathan wouldn't be elected to anything he runs for, now.
Senator Petrelli regrets handling the situation poorly. Claire is only mildly surprised that Nathan isn't up at the podium, weaving this story himself. Of course, after Kirby Plaza…well, things are different. His brother Peter has been missing for almost six months, and the Senator needed some time to grieve and be with family. He is holding out hope for Peter to be found, but right now, the Senator and his family are focused on moving on.
Claire shuts the TV off and throws her Kurt Vonnegut novel at the wall.
--
They're back in California and now, Claire hates it.
She feels a pull from somewhere, not quite New York and definitely not Odessa. She doesn't belong in the sunny plastic of LA, as safely anonymous as it is.
She dreams of Peter every night. Nathan is there too, most of the time, and every morning she wakes up with images of dark hair and fear and red stairs that lead to nowhere. One night, she dreams of the explosion, except this time it's her that Nathan flies away, leaving Peter to blow up in the middle of the city. She dreams of Peter-pieces splattering on the clouds, and wakes up scrambling for the bathroom before she pukes her guts out on her new bedspread.
She calls Zach once, mostly because she feels like she should, though she doesn't particularly want to talk to him. After she greets him enthusiastically, there's a moment of silence before his incredulous voice. Claire Bennet? What…what do you want?
She hangs up on him, slamming down the phone angrily. Third time's the charm her ass.
She starts the suicide attempts again. She doesn't find a new friend to let in on the secret, and so she tries it by herself. Sets up a tripod like Zach had suggested so many times and films herself jumping off roofs. It gets to be too dangerous when someone sees her fiddling with the tape and asks her about it, and so she stops filming it and just starts being reckless instead. She gets into fights at school and follows gang members into alleyways. She thinks her father knows, but he doesn't say anything so she keeps doing it.
There's something clean and refreshing about dying. She wakes up, wounds closing, blood smeared all over her clothes and feels her skin itch and tingle. It's like becoming a new person every night. Every time she looks in the mirror she sees the same features, the same face and hair and eyes and lips, but every time, it's different, in a much more subtle way.
Nathan calls her about three weeks after they'd left him in New York. They talk, mostly about Peter, and it's actually pleasant. He tells her stories of when he was little, of he and Peter playing tricks at their parents' fancy parties. Of Peter convincing Nathan, subsequently getting into trouble, and of Nathan subsequently getting them out of trouble, every time. She thinks that for all his faults, Nathan was a good brother. She also thinks that this is what she kind of wanted, ever since her father told her she was adopted. These are the things she wanted to know.
She tells Nathan about the dying thing, surprising herself. He doesn't try to talk her out of it, or even scold her, which she's grateful for. He seems to understand that what she needs is not a father, or even an authoritative figure. He doesn't press her for information on his life, rather he calls with some strange excuse, then proceeds to just chat with her for an hour or so. It's light and it makes Claire happy on some level.
She thinks about what it means, kind of. She thinks about it a lot, in fact, it seems that it's all that she thinks about these days. She thinks about Nathan and Meredith, about Nathan and Heidi, about Peter and Nathan, about her and Nathan and Peter. She thinks about Nathan's phone calls, and she thinks about what he probably told his wife. She thinks about just how little she knows about Peter, compared to just how much she misses him. She thinks about you know, I finally felt like I was a part of something when I met you, and it's funny, I felt the same way when I met you.
She thinks about how, if it weren't for Peter, she probably wouldn't be talking to Nathan at all.
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