Disclaimer: I don't Heroes, and the fundamental concept of this story was inspired by rain and leaves' "Four Months Later" and is used with his permission
Feedback: I'd like it, trust me
A Leap to Safety
As Claire walked into Copy Kingdom- she still wasn't sure whether she thought that or 'Primatech Paper' was a dumber name for a place-, she swallowed slightly as she looked over at the corner of the counter where her father was currently stacking bags of sweets into shelves.
She knew that it was stupid to be worried about this; here she was, wanting to jump Peter despite the fact that it would be wrong on so many levels, and she was afraid about how her father would react to a stolen car? In terms of the consequences if Peter or her were discovered, that really didn't rank that highly on the 'bad news' scale…
Claire just wished she could convince herself of that…
"Hey," her father said, breaking into her train of thought as he smiled over at her, putting another bag into the shelves in front of him even as he spoke. "Five-pound bag of Gummi Bears; receptionists love them. A well-stocked candy dish makes them feel popular…"
His voice trailed off as he turned to look properly at her as she stood in front of him, one hand on the counter as she looked apprehensively at him.
"Dad," she said uncertainly, speaking as rapidly as possible in an attempt to get the issue out in the open as soon as possible, "if I told you something, will you promise not to freak out?"
As her father moved to stand almost directly in front of her, Claire tensed herself for his reaction before she spoke again. "My car… kinda got stolen."
After a moment's silence, her father sighed, a smile on his face as he looked at her.
"My God, Claire," he said, relief evident in his voice. "My heart just about stopped."
"I know," Claire replied, allowing herself a slight smile at the sight of his reaction; at least he wasn't that freaked about it. "What's a stolen car when you're-"
She cut that sentence off before she could finish it; with Peter back in her life, she had even more reason to be careful about what she was saying in public. "Never mind; look, the point is, if I ever get another car, I promise that I'll never leave it unlocked ever again."
It was only when she registered the expression on her father's face that she realised the mistake she'd just made.
"You left it… unlocked?" her father repeated, the smile fading from his face as he looked at her in ever-slightly-visible frustration. "Claire…"
Before he went any further, he took a brief glance at their surroundings, evidently confirming that the shop was quiet enough for the staff not to miss him for a few moments, before he placed an arm around her shoulders and begin to walk her off towards the back of the shop. "I have to be able to trust you. And not just with the car; with everything!"
"I know," Claire groaned (She was really starting to get sick of this speech; did he think she wouldn't get the point unless he repeated himself or something?). "I made a mistake-"
"We can't afford mistakes-" her father began.
"Because we're in hiding and it's dangerous," Claire groaned, trying to keep the 'I know' part of that statement in her head only; that definitely wouldn't help her convince her father that she was mature enough to cope with the current situation.
"That's right," her father replied briefly. "Besides, with Peter-"
Claire stopped walking at that, turning to glare at her father.
He could say what he wanted about her, but he was not going to use Peter to try and reinforce his argument; the guy had been through enough crap because people wanted to 'use' him for stuff (She still wished she'd had the chance to punch her grandmother after what Nathan had told her about the plan to destroy New York during those brief moments when he was coherent enough after the explosion).
"Don't even think about bringing him into this," she said, glaring coldly back at him even as she took care not to speak too loudly in case she attracted any unwanted attention. "He needs help, Dad-"
"And I'll do what I can to get it for him," her father replied, crouching slightly to look her more directly in the eyes. "But you need to realise that it's going to take time, and as it is Peter's only going to attract attention; you need to-"
"Help him learn what he can do in case we have a repeat of Kirby Plaza," Claire retorted firmly, folding her arms as she glared resolutely at her father, a part of her almost not believing that she was saying this.
In many ways, she'd already made up her mind about what she could do to help Peter in his current condition even before she came here, but saying it to her father like this- in many ways, openly defying him for the first time in her life; even when she'd pretended the Haitian had erased her memory she'd never done anything he'd explicitly told her not to do- made it almost automatically more… real.
"What?" her father hissed back at her, taking her arm and hurrying her off to a back room before he turned to look at her once again. "Claire, we are trying to lay low-"
"Peter's got no memory of what he can do and no idea how to stop himself from doing it; if I don't help him get the hang of it who knows what he could do?" Claire countered, stepping back as soon as they were inside the storeroom. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything anywhere he can be seen, but he needs me if he's going to learn what he can do."
After a moment's silence as she and her father looked at each other, her expression resolute while her father's at least appeared slightly uncertain, Claire sighed and spoke again.
"Look," she continued, looking at him with what she hoped was an understanding expression. "You want to keep me safe; I get that, and I appreciate, OK? But Peter needs me if he's going to cope with… what he can do… before we can figure out some way to help him remember it on his own; it might not matter if I don't really know how my… thing… works, but Peter has to know about his limits if he's going to 'blend in'."
For a moment, as her father continued to stare silently back at her, Claire wondered if she'd gone too far or been a bit too… passionate… in her plea- how would her father react if he knew how she felt about Peter?-, but he finally nodded.
"All right," he said, still looking at her in a very pointed manner that made it clear he didn't like what she had decided to do but was at least willing to try and put up with it at the moment. "But just remember; if you feel you have to… train… him, stay-"
"Out of sight and don't let anyone else see what he can do; I know, Dad," Claire said, groaning slightly in frustration as she turned around and walked out of the storeroom, more out of an attempt to stop herself saying anything that she'd regret later.
God, couldn't her dad just accept that she was able to make her own decisions about some things now? If he wanted to protect her from the Company by uprooting her entire life, she could handle that, but if he even tried to get Peter moved away somewhere else because he wanted to 'protect their cover'…
Claire wasn't going to stand for it.
When he didn't even remember his own name, Peter had come to her- her, of all people- when he was alone and acted on instinct to go somewhere safe; how could she turn him away after something like that (And no, she told the traitorous part of her mind that insisted upon reminding her about her real relationship to Peter, it's not because I want him around, it's because I want to make sure he's safe before I send him back somewhere where the Company might be looking out for him).
Somehow, repetition just was not making the point stick any better than it had when she started using it…
As Peter sat at the Butler's kitchen table, now dressed in a dark blue shirt, trousers and shoes that Claire's mother had picked up from a shop for him- she'd gathered the trouser size from the ones he'd been wearing when he arrived, and the shirt and shoe size had just been an estimate that seemed to work; apparently the Butlers didn't want him to leave the house for reasons he hadn't been told yet-, he looked up as he heard footsteps coming towards the door, smiling slightly as Claire walked into the kitchen; her mother had taken her brother off to get some new clothes and her father still hadn't come back from work yet.
"Hey," he said, putting the book he'd been reading off to one side- something about genetics; he'd found it tucked away in a box in Claire's room shortly after he'd had breakfast and started reading it out of idle curiosity- to look at her. "Good day?"
The frustrated look that Claire gave him in response to that query was all that Peter needed to answer his question.
"Not too good, huh?" he asked, looking apologetically at her.
"Getting your new car stolen on only your second day with it and then having your father tell you that he basically doesn't trust you when you're doing the best job you can isn't what I'd call good, anyway; would you?" Claire countered, glaring back at him for a moment before she sighed and slumped down in the nearest chair, tossing her bag off to the side. "Sorry; it's all been a bit… well, it's been a rough few months, really."
"It has?" Peter replied, looking uncertainly at her. "Uh… I'm not trying to sound self-centred or anything, but… does that have anything to do with…?"
For a moment an awkward silence settled over the table, Peter unwilling to finish the sentence and Claire initially uncertain what he was talking about, before an explanation struck her.
"With… what happened to you?" she said, shaking her head as she looked at him. "Trust me, what happened to you was… rough… but it has nothing to do with what's been happening to me the last few months; we'd have been in this situation whatever happened to you."
"Oh," Peter said simply, silence settling over the room once again before he looked curiously at her. "What… did put you in this situation?"
For a moment, Claire simply sat in silence, looking at him with a thoughtful expression on her face that gave him little to no real idea where her thoughts were going, before she nodded resolutely.
"My mom told you how we met, right?" she asked.
"I… saved you from getting killed, right?" Peter asked, looking uncertainly at her; he still wasn't entirely clear on the specifics of that.
"Yeah…" Claire said, nodding in confirmation as she stood up and walked over to a nearby drawer, opening it to pick up a knife. "I'm guessing she just didn't tell you why he was trying to kill me.
With that, she pulled up her left sleeve and sliced a deep cut into her arm.
"Claire!" Peter yelled, automatically sitting up and staring in horror at the blade as it dug into her skin. "What are you…?"
His voice trailed off as he stared incredulously at the injury she'd just made; right before his eyes, not only was the deep cut she'd made in her own skin no longer bleeding, but the cut was actually healing itself even as he looked at it.
"Oh my god…" he whispered, looking in amazement at the skin where the cut had been before he looked back at her.
If what he'd seen was real- and he had no reason to believe it wasn't-…
God, it was no wonder he found this girl so incredible even when he could barely remembered anything specific about his own life.
