Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it.
"Nathan. He's alive."
There's a long silence, and she wonders if he's sober enough to understand her. But when his voice comes, it's as clear as it gets, these days.
"Where are you?"
Claire tells him the location of a diner twenty minutes out of town, and he says he'll be right there. She's a little worried about him flying drunk, but she's more worried that he'll be recognized. When she hangs up she ties back her hair and bundles it under a cap.
Driving to the diner she worries about so many things – about being followed, about being caught, by her dad or by the Company – but she has to take this risk. Peter's remembering.
Nathan's coffee's cold by the time he comes in, and so is he. "Where is he?"
She tells him what she knows, and what she suspects about Peter's ability to regain his memories. He listens with growing impatience and irritation. "I'm coming over," he says, the minute she stops talking.
"Nathan, no. The Company can't find us, do you understand me? I'm taking a big enough risk just meeting you."
"Then why didn't you just tell me over the phone?"
Claire looks down at the table, and before she really comes to a concrete decision about it she hears herself say, "Because I've done something terrible. Something so bad, I can't tell anyone, I can't even tell Peter – when he finds out, he's going to – I don't know."
Tears fill her eyes. When she risks a glance at Nathan, he's just a blur. "What did you do?"
"I slept with him," she whispers.
"Oh, my God, Claire." Nathan doesn't seem to know what to say. He spreads his hands out on the table and stares at them.
Claire starts to cry, and can't stop. After a second Nathan gets up and comes over to sit beside her. He puts an arm around her shoulders and hugs her, and even though he smells like whiskey, the relief she feels when he tells her it's going to be okay makes her turn into the embrace and hold on to him as she cries.
It's not okay.
They both know there's no way it's going to be okay.