Running Away

Summer 2013:

Peter: The past Summer was incredibly difficult for the family. Monty's illness, the revelation that Nathan is not Claire's biological Father; it was all a lot to deal with. Monty progressed well with his chemo and the Doctors pushed ahead with plans to give him a Bone Marrow Transplant; using my bone marrow. Initially, Claire seemed withdrawn. I guess she needed some time to come to terms with truth. None of us knew what to say, Nathan most of all. There he was, one of the most powerful men in America, and his family was falling apart at the seams. I did not envy him. I tried hard concentrate on putting the family first and ignored the nagging doubts I had about my engagement to Caitlin. I loved her and yet part of me rejoiced at the news that Claire was not my niece. I could, however, have handled the whole situation much better than I did.

"Good Morning, Nathan," Dr Micheal Coleman, Monty's Oncologist, greeted him as they met to discuss the days events.

"Micheal," Nathan acknowledged as they shook hands.

"Heidi . . . Peter," Dr Coleman smiled as they filed into the room. "No Claire today?"

"She's, ah . . . She couldn't make it today," Nathan attempted to explain her glaring absence.

"Oh. Well. This is my colleague, Dr Elizabeth Bell." He turned and introduced them to a stern looking woman of about forty. "She will be assisting with Peter's procedure today."

"Thank you so much." Heidi stepped forward and took the other woman's hands in hers. Elizabeth's face softened as their eyes met.

Dr Coleman cleared his throat as he seated himself behind the desk in his small office. "I thought we should just do a brief run through of what we will be doing today, in case you have any questions. Now, don't hesitate to ask. Our role is to guide everyone through what is often a very challenging day. As you know, Monty has been on high dose of chemotherapy and radiation to help . . ."

Dr Coleman's words faded into the background as Peter found himself staring at an empty chair across the room. The chair that was meant for Claire. "Where are you, Claire? I need you."

"Peter?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry." Peter snapped quickly out of his trance and realised that the worried eyes of everyone else in the room were on him.

"Do you have any questions about the procedure?" Dr Coleman asked again.

He shift uncomfortably in his seat. "No."

"Right. Now, where was I?" Dr Coleman wondered aloud. "Yes. Once Peter's cells have been harvested we will start Monty's transplant . . ."

Peter phased out again. His mind drifting back to Claire. Images floated through his mind. The moment they first met. Kirby Plaza. Her first night in New York. "It all seems so long ago." The meeting ended and together they were escorted towards the hospital room that was to be his during his brief stay.The whole time Peter's mind was on Claire. The beautiful golden haired Cheerleader. The girl he had believed was his niece. The woman he had grown to love. He wrestled with his conscience as they moved him into a sterile operating room. She was always on his mind. Every day, hour, minute and second. He breathed to love her and now, lying before the knife, he had the sudden realisation that if something went wrong, he might never get to tell her how he truly felt. For the first time in a long time, Peter Petrelli was scared of something. Losing Claire forever. Her image floated hauntingly before his eyes as he was lost to the blackness.

Peter's distant behaviour had not gone unnoticed. Nathan knew exactly what, or whom, was on his brother's mind. He politely excused himself after they wheeled Peter into the operating room. He slipped silently though a fire exit and up to the roof. Finally sure he wouldn't be seen, he purposefully pushed himself off the roof and into the sky. He flew quickly towards the Petrelli Estate.

Claire was tidying her room when Nathan silently entered.

Her pale green eyes lifted and met his. "I know why you're here." She sat slowly on the edge of her bed.

"Good. Then you'll come with me?"

She rolled her head to the side and looked away. "I can't."

"Why not?" He moved to side beside her.

"I'm . . . It's just something I'm going through right now," Claire sighed, her eyes filling with tears.

"We're all going through something and that's why we need you. Now more than ever."

"Things have changed, Nathan. I feel like I've been living a lie and . . . I don't know who I am anymore."

"You are Claire Petrelli and you are part of this family. Those test results make no difference to us. We need you . . . Pete needs you."

Her jaw clenched suddenly. "I'm so angry at her. I can't believe she would do this to you . . . and to me. Everyone went out of there way to make me feel me like I was part of the family. Then to find out now . . . It's like some sick twisted joke."

He put a protective arm around her shoulder. "I wish there was something I could say that would explain her actions."

"It's the same with Monty's illness. I keep expecting to wake up any moment."

"I want to tell you everything is going to be okay, Claire," his voice was strained, "but, I don't know what the future holds. I just know that I want Monty to get better-"

"That makes two of us," she sniffed.

"And," Nathan continued, "I want you to be part of this family. There is nothing anyone could say or do to make me stop loving you like you were my own."

Claire wiped the tears from her pretty face. "Thanks. You don't know what it means . . . to hear you say that . . ."

"Here for you. Always." He stood and offered her his hand. "Now are you coming?"

Claire looked unsure for a moment.

"C'mon. I promise to get you there in style."

"Okay." "If only he knew how many times I've been flying with Pete . . ."

She was there when he opened his eyes. The image was blurry, but unmistakeably Claire. Relief flooded through him.

"Hey," she greeted him softly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He frowned, still groggy from the anaesthetic.

"It'll wear off soon," she promised, "they had to give you a little more than normal." She stroked the side of his face.

He closed his eyes to better appreciate her delicate touch and the sound of her voice. A wave of her sweet perfume washed over him and he was sure his heart would burst.

"Claire . . ." he spoke a few minutes later.

"I'm right here." She squeezed his hand.

"Monty?"

"He's in recovery. Nathan and Heidi are with him."

Peter closed his eyes again. Several minutes passed.

He licked his lips. "You have no idea what your being here means to me."

A lump formed in her throat. "I'm sorry I wasn't there this morning. I still need some time to process . . . everything."

"I know. Things are a bit crazy right now," he cleared his throat. "I can't believe you're not my-"

"I know."

"Kind of weird huh?"

"Yeah."

A shadow appeared in the doorway. They both turned to see Caitlin appear in the doorway. A sudden surge of loyalty hit Peter square in the chest. He loosened his grip on Claire's hand. He felt her hand tense and she pulled away. He instantly missed her reassuring touch.

"Caitlin?" he murmured hoarsely.

"I caught an earlier flight," her accent floated through the air.

Caitlin's sudden appearance made Claire understandably awkward. She stood up to offer her the chair. "I-I should go."

"No," Peter answered quickly, "You don't have to-"

"It's okay." Claire found herself staring longingly at his hand. "We'll talk later. Right now I think you should be with your girlf-fiancee." Claire cursed the way she had stumbled over the words as she left.

Peter felt the pressure in his chest increase as he watched her leave. "Just say the words and she's yours," his inner voice counselled him. Somewhere inside he heard the dull echo of hollow laughter. Peter looked at Caitlin's smiling face as she sat down beside him. "If only it was that simple." He pushed himself upwards.

"Claire . . . Wait!" He jogged after her.

"Yeah?" Her shoulder length blonde hair whipped as she turned expectantly.

"I just want you to know that, ah, this doesn't change anything. Our relationship. How I feel about you . . . It's not going to change."

Claire fought back tears. "Neither," she whispered. "Dear God, just make this feeling go away."

Suddenly contemplating the effect the last few days events might have had on her; he studied her closely. "Are you okay?"

She gave an unconvincing nod as a tear slipped down her right cheek. He reached out an gently cupped her face, wiping away the tear as he did so.

Claire struggled to keep herself from falling into his arms. "You should um, probably get back to Caitlin. She flew all this way."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

"Fine. I'll be fine. Go . . ."

"Alright. But, I'm here for you."

Silently, her eyes lingered as he disappeared up the hallway. "But that's just it, you're not." She walked briskly until found herself alone in a bathroom. She lent over the sink and gazed at her reflection. "It's time to get past this. He's getting married. He's in love with someone else." She closed her eyes slowly and stood perfectly still as small wet tears slipped down her face. Blinded by the water in her eyes she reached into her bag for a tissue and instead pulled out a pale blue business card. She stared at it curiously. "It's time to let go."

Claire: As time went on I began to find it more and more difficult to function as a member of the Petrelli family. I was desperately trying to keep it together for Monty. Nathan and Heidi were too preoccupied to realise I was thoroughly distracted. Caitlin's presence made me feel like an impostor. A stranger in the house I had come to call home. Unable to constantly pretend everything was okay I moved out of the mansion. I had no job, so the pool house was as far as I got. Even so I was confident that putting some distance between us would fix everything. It didn't.

Claire was washing some dishes in the sink after a meal one night when Caitlin approached her.

"Thank you for dinner, Claire." Her accent was charming, but Claire couldn't stand it.

Claire gave a half hearted smile. "Peter is the one you should be thanking. I would be nothing in the kitchen if it weren't for him." She continued washing, keen to avoid Caitlin's gaze.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Caitlin asked politely.

"No," Claire answered quickly.

"Oh, okay." Caitlin started to leave and then stopped. "You . . . You don't like me do you?"

Claire stopped and turned to face her. "I have no idea what you mean." She tried to appear casual, wondering if she was truly that transparent.

"Peter talks so much about you so much and-"

"I'm sorry." Claire frowned at Caitlin's words. "I just have a lot on my mind at the moment."

Caitlin nodded. "I wanted to ask you . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Will you be my bridesmaid?"

"Bridesmaid?" Claire echoed. The mere thought of watching Peter marry someone else brought her to the verge of collapse. She steadied herself against the bench.

"I was hoping it would help us get to know each other better."

"Sure," Claire replied slowly. "She's so nice it's nauseating." "Would you excuse me a minute . . . I just need to . . . ah, I'll be right back."

Claire's chest heaved as she fled from the light of the kitchen. She stumbled into the garden. Running desperately to try and fight the growing tightness in her chest. She collapsed onto the park bench. Finally alone. The seat was her favourite place in the whole garden. She always came here to be alone; to think. Tonight, she came to forget. To forget her past and the anguish of her present.

"Mind if I sit?" Peter's quiet voice startled her.

She stared at him. "How is it that he always manages to find me when I just want to be alone?"

"Are . . . Are you okay?"

"I . . . go ahead." She motioned for him to join her.

He positioned himself carefully, before turning to her with questioning eyes.

She smiled weakly. "I don't," she sighed, "I don't know who I am anymore."

He took her hand. "No one expects you to be okay with this. It's just . . ." he searched for the right words. "I don't know what to do or say or . . ."

"Ever since I found out I was adopted all I wanted to be part of a real family. I finally thought I was . . ."

"You are."

"But, I'm not. My real father is out there somewhere. I might have other Brothers and Sisters or . . . Uncles." Neither of them could make eye contact. "My memories . . . Everything is so messed up."

"I miss you, Claire," he paused, somewhat flustered by his confession, "what I mean is . . . I . . . We don't spend much time together anymore."

"I need some time. To get me head around all of this. I don't know how to be . . . around any of you, anymore."

"It'll get better." He squeezed her hand tightly. "I promise."

He pulled her closer, wanting nothing more in that moment than to take her into his arms and hold her.

Her vision was suddenly hazy, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. "I ah, I should . . ." Claire pulled away from his grasp. Now desperate to put distance between them before her secret was revealed.

"Claire . . . Wait!" She heard his foot steps behind her before they stopped abruptly.

Peter was torn. He wanted, no he needed, to make Claire understand. He would have followed her if not for the silhouetted image of Caitlin, his fiancee, appearing in the window before him.

"Let her go. Just let her go." His inner voice counselled. "You know this is how it has to be."

In the next chapter of Volume Six: Change One Thing, Change Everything: Peter's reaction to Claire's new relationship with Victor threatens his own.