"Claire. Claire get up immediately." The voice of Angela Petrelli disrupts Claire's happy oblivion, calling her back to reality. Claire didn't want to just yet. She rolled over and stuck her head under her pillow to muffle the noise.

"Are you ill?"

What a stupid question Claire thought. Of course I'm not. Unfortunately my body can heal from anything she thought bitterly.

"Are you alright?"

Claire rolled over and took the pillow off her face to give her grandmother an incredulous look.

No, Angela, I'm not alright. I can't die. So, yeah, physically I'm in top condition, mentally…. Well there we may have a bit of a problem. But no worries cause as long as I continue to be your little robot you need not concern yourself.

Claire of course didn't say any of this but simply nodded her head, hoping to get her grandmother off her back.

"Well then if not get up immediately. You'll miss class otherwise."

Claire started giggling uncontrollably. Who the hell cares? It was so trivial. Class was the least of her problems. Besides, she was going to live forever and everyone else was going to die. She'd have all the time in the world. Claire started laughing harder. She didn't even really find any of this funny.

However Claire got up to do as Angela wished. Why not? She didn't care about fighting her anymore. She would do whatever they wanted, play their game of charades.

Angela gave her one of her looks, probably wondering what was up with her. She left, probably deciding it was better not to ask.

They'd come every single Sunday, Peter and Simone. She'd stay as long as she could stand it, watching them together, then she'd leave. Eventually she could make her self sit through the entire meal without leaving any suspicion. She'd be pleasant, converse with the family, answer questions and the like. She made it appear that she hadn't care in the world besides getting good grades and having a social life, guys, parties, clothes; what people expected of her, acting like a college girl. She became good at putting on her mask. Angela would be proud if she knew.

The brunches went on for two months. In between those were balls and parties which Simone always came to with Peter. She was always on his arm. He lead her around, introduced her to Nathan's friends. She was a natural, smooth and charming. She fit right in. It made Claire feel that much more of an outcast.

Even when Reggie was there he failed to cheer her up much. She tried to fit in with the world that she once laughed at with him. He would just look between Claire and Peter and raise an eyebrow but he would never comment. He, if anybody, certainly noticed the change in them.

It hurt her so much to be around him. But she'd do it. Every event he was at so was she if she could manage it. It was pain, but it was better than feeling lifeless without him. It was good to feel jealousy than to be apathetic, better to long, even if she couldn't touch.

Later in her room, after they were gone and everyone was asleep, she'd take out the knife she had smuggled from the kitchen and cut herself, small incisions on her arm. It was good to feel something even pain for it was different pain than the one Peter inflicted her with. And in the end it wouldn't matter. She could heal from any wound expect the ones that hurt her the most, the ones that would leave scars on her heart.

When the blood dripped out of her she could imagine it was a bit of her that was infected with him. She was just getting him out of her system. Eventually, over time, her blood would run clear, lifeless and pure and there would be no more of him in her and she would be free.

Claire didn't bother to go shower or put on any makeup. She just opened up her closet, selected her smallest pair of pants and shirt, not bothering to check if they matched. Claire also randomly selected a belt and put it on the smallest notch.

Ever since parting ways with Peter two months ago she had stopped eating. She just had no interest in food anymore. It all ended up tasting like cardboard anyways.

Over those months she had lost a noticeable portion of weight. When asked about it she just said it was exam stress, nothing to worry about. And no one pressed further cause no one really cared. Her ability wouldn't let her go any further after a certain amount of body weight was gone. She found she wouldn't die from this either.

Damn her ability.

She found she didn't need sleep either. She tested it out. She stopped later though because she missed it. She welcomed the oblivion it brought her. It was the one escape she could have.

She headed down stairs and out the door not bothering to greet anyone. She just started walking down the street. She had no intention of going to class today. She wouldn't be able to pay attention anyways.

Her mind drifted to what occurred last night during dinner. She was still trying to come to term with it. It just seemed impossible.

Before when Peter first left her she had kept telling herself that Peter didn't mean what he said. He was just trying to be noble or something, them being related and all. He would come back, she had been so sure.

He thought that she didn't really love him. That was one explanation. But how could he think that? Hadn't she told him and shown him in countless ways?

Did he think her too young, that she didn't know her own heart? She was not a child. Anyone who had gone through all the things she had certainly was no child. She had had other relationships not many but enough to know that what she had with Peter was special. She had tried running from it with West. Perhaps that what Peter was doing with Simone?

Or was she just not enough? Could it be simply that he really didn't love her? Thought he did but found he didn't. Maybe it really had been all a game to him. It just seemed so unlike Peter though.

Claire walked into the park, people passing by all around her. She didn't see them. She sat on a park bench and watched the pigeons.

She promised herself that she would never loose control again like she had done last night. The cutting, the not eating, that was one thing. But jumping off buildings was something else. She couldn't do any of it any more. She couldn't let them think something was wrong. They probably already knew, at least suspected. They would have to be blind not to. Of course they did. No more mistakes, no more letting them, or him hurt her. Claire now understood the Petrellis better, their ways. She could use this mask as a shield.

She had to slip it on fully, not take it off, so no one could ever see through.

Claire spends the morning at the park just reflecting on her life. She people watches. There is a woman jogging with her headphones on, drowning out the world around her, moving to her own rhythm. There is a single mother looking after her child as he runs around enjoying the fresh air and openness. There is a couple walking hand in hand, her head leans against his shoulder….

Claire turns away. She doesn't want to watch their happy bliss. It something she'll never be able to have. She doesn't want to put lemon juice on the wound. She can't for one day she hopes to close it.

There is something that catches her eye. It was only there for a moment. A man, with dark hair, long bangs ….But it can't be. She has thought of him too much and now she is imagining things.

Claire leaps up from the bench. It is noon, Angela will be gone. She can go back to the house.

As she nears the mansion she sees a figure walk down the steps. Simone. She looks up and sees Claire. She waves and comes over. Claire is ready, hardening her mask. She will not slip.

"Hey, I was just coming over to see you. I didn't know you if you'd be here or not. Thought you might have class. Guess I lucked out."

Claire can see why Peter loves Simone. She is a nice, sweet woman. Plus she doesn't come with the baggage that Claire does.

Claire gives her a small smile. She can be civil. "What's up?"

"Well, I never had many girl friends and well…. Peter has told me so much about you…I feel like I know you. You are special to him, one of his best friends and oh God I'm babbling." Simone flushes slightly. "I was basically wondering if you'd be my maid of honor?"

Claire is momentarily stunned. She has no idea what to say. She wants her to be the maid of honor at her wedding? And she is in love with the groom. It is rather ironic.

She hadn't planned on partaking much on the wedding but now… now maybe it'd be a good thing. Working with the wedding would mean more time to be around Peter.

Ugh, I'm like some freaking addict Claire thought. I'm pathetic.

She found herself telling Simone yes anyways.

"Thank you so much Claire. This means so much to both of us. I know he's going to be thrilled. But hey, listen I got to run. I have to meet Heidi and Peter. I'll get in contact with you later, okay?"

Simone is hurrying down the side walk, trying to hail a cab. Claire walks inside and hangs up her coat. She walks over and sits in front of the fire place.

She'd help Simone pick out her wedding dress. They'd talk locations, caters, themes. Through it all she'd wouldn't bat an eye lash. Every time Peter was there she would act indifferent; like she didn't dislike him but he wasn't her most favorite person in the world either. He'd never know how much he hurt her. Maybe they could regain some of the tattered remnant of their friendship at least. They could come to some civil understanding. She'd be storing these memories away, these last ones of Peter; saving them to look back on when he was no longer around. But when he wasn't what would she be living for?

Claire keeps her eyes in front of her, to stare at her flowers she holds in her hands. Pink roses are nice, she thinks. Simone has them for her bouquet, only hers are red ones. Claire personally would prefer red tulips though; if it were her wedding bouquet that is and she was the one getting married. Not that she is though, thinking about getting married that is. She is especially not thinking about marrying her uncle.

But if she were thinking about getting married, (not getting married to her uncle part she reprimands herself. She wouldn't be surprised if she got struck down by lightning. She certainly would deserve for all her unholy thoughts.)

Anyways, Claire thinks. If she were getting married she couldn't see herself doing it in an old church like this. It is nice and all, certainly has a lot of history, culture but… It just isn't her. She'd prefer something quiet, smaller, with only her closest family and friends invited. Maybe in a garden or on a beach…

Claire can feel his eyes on her. When she gathers the courage to sneak a peek he has already looked away.

Peter looks ridiculously handsome in his tux. But his hair… it's so not him. He has it gelled back. He seems for a minute less like Peter. The church isn't him either. As a matter of fact Claire hadn't seen the old Peter shine through in a long time.

Claire realizes; it just really hits her hard. She's losing him, little by little and what is going to happen next is going to be the final step of the assimilation process. She feels like she is going to hurl. She doesn't want to watch, wishes to be any where but here. But she knows she couldn't even if she wanted to. She has to watch the final stroke.

The organ strikes the beginning chord of the wedding march song. Claire's gaze flickers from Peter's face to Simone walking up the aisle. Claire knows him so well and what she sees on his face confuses her. Peter looks captivated, only… like isn't really seeing Simone either.

Simone does look amazing though, even Claire has to admit. Her curly hair is artfully piled on her head, a veil shrouding her face. She takes smooth, measured steps. And her dress is fabulous. It's a floor length, full sleeved, white silk V neck with lots of expensive lacey fringe.

Everyone is in awe of her. She hears sniffling coming from some where. Simone climbs the steps to Peter and he takes her arm. Then they kneel together in front of the priest. A reverent hush falls over the congregation as the priest begins to speak.

Claire begins to zone out, her mind not really grasping the words. It is really happening. It feels so surreal to her. That deadness is creeping back up on her, threatens to swallow her whole. She concentrates on breathing in and out. She clutches her flowers tight. One of the thorns from the roses pricks her finger and a tiny drop of blood pools there. It instantly heals but the drop remains.

Simone is looking around her out of the corners of her eyes; for what Claire wonders.

Peter is equally non-focused on Simone. His gaze keeps drifting over in her direction, though it is kind of hard to tell with her only getting a side view.

"…speak now or forever hold your peace." Claire's attention snapped back into focus when she heard him utter those words.

She panics. She should say something. Those two don't really love each other, they can't they've been lying to themselves. She clutches her roses so tight they pierce her skin in several places but she doesn't even notice.

She sees Peter, his lips forming inaudible words. His gaze meets hers. It spoke a thousand words. So much, she couldn't process it all at once. She knows, understands everything. Why he has done what he has. She understands what she didn't before.

Peter has made his choice. He has made it all along, just didn't know it yet. Peter lets go of Simone's arm and looks like he is about to rise.

Peter could never go through with it, even when it is the right thing to do. He did all of this because he loves her. He loved her so much he let her go. He did it all…

She doesn't care for any of his reasons. Doesn't he understand that she has already chosen him, that he doesn't have to do any of this? Why did he always have to be so noble and self sacrificing? Didn't he know she didn't care if the whole world knew?

Claire wants to cry, laugh, scream and then kiss him all at the same time.

Peter hesitates for a moment looking at her with a question in his eyes. Claire's stomach dropped. That's right, for all he knew she hated him. It was all she could do not to scream out 'YES!" at the top of her lungs. She nodded her head at him vigorously which really wasn't too subtle.

Peter smiles and he looks like he is going to cry he is that relieved. He opens his mouth, his voice cracking, not making a sound from being so dry with nervousness. It's too late. The priest after having waiting the customary few seconds opened his mouth to speak the words that would unite and break them all.

That was when the voice rang out.

"I object!"

Author's Note: *gasp* Cliffhanger! Yes, I know I'm cruel but I couldn't resist.

So who do you think it is? *poke* What do you thinks going to happen? I'm curious as to what you all think.

As always I really appreciate reviews. They are very encouraging especially when I'm working on a new story and finishing editing this one. It is nice to know people read and actually LIKE what I've written. Who'd have thought…

There is only going to be a bit more, we're almost at the end. Stay tuned.