Pairing: Peter/Claire, some Peter/Simone
Summary: Peter and Claire discover they're related, but in a different way.
Spoilers: through Distractions.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Tim Kring et al.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Thanks to kallie_kat for the beta!
A/N: Just pretend that Peter wasn't in a coma for several weeks; he just passed out for a few hours, then went back to New York with Nathan. Claire is 17 in this story.
Burnt Toast Diner. Fri Oct 15, 6pm. – P
Claire let out a breath she felt like she'd been holding for a week. Peter was coming for her.
Life had been crazy since Homecoming for Claire Bennet. She'd already known she was a freak due to her ability to heal from anything, even death. But now she was a freak whose former best friend had been killed by a psycho looking for her and her new best friend no longer remembered them being friends.
It was enough to make a cheerleader give up her pompoms.
Claire had begged the Haitian that worked for her father to give her Peter's number. He refused the first dozen times that she asked. On the thirteenth try he relented and handed it over. Thirteen was her new favorite number.
Of course, once she had his number, it took her several more days to work up the nerve to call him. She stayed late after school so that she could call him from outside the gym, a place she felt close to him. It was October 13th when Claire nervously dialed Peter's number and hit send.
"Hello?" came the wary greeting.
"Peter? Peter Petrelli?" she anxiously asked.
"Yes, this is Peter. Who may I ask is calling?"
"It's Claire Bennet; the cheerleader from Odessa," Claire informed him.
"Claire?" Peter's voice immediately grew warm, if a little worried. "How did you get my number? Is everything okay?"
Claire shook her head, despite the fact that she knew he couldn't see her. Tears of relief upon hearing his voice filled her eyes. "This guy that works for my dad had your number. I don't know how he got it, but he knows who you are. He's special too, like us, but different. I hope you don't mind me calling."
"Of course not," Peter assured her. "What's wrong?"
"Everything!" Claire wailed. "School's crazy now that Jackie's dead and that guy who tried to kill me is missing, probably still out there. My best friend doesn't remember anything about me healing or even that we were friends. At home I have to pretend that I don't remember anything about healing or how Jackie really died or anything."
"Claire, slow down," Peter said, wishing he were there to talk her down in person. "Now, what do you mean that you're not supposed to remember?"
"The Haitian, the guy who works for my dad, that's what he does. He makes people forget. He made my brother forget about me healing. He made Zach forget too. It was like one minute everything was normal, and the next thing he's saying we haven't talked in years. My dad told the Haitian to make me forget too, but he didn't. He said it was important that I remember."
"He's right. I don't know why you're important yet, but you are. I went to Odessa to save you, remember. There has to be a reason for it all."
"I don't know about all of that. I'm just a girl. What can I do?"
"I haven't quite figured that out yet," Peter admitted. "What is it that you wanted me to do about all of this?"
"I, um, I don't know," Claire said. "I just knew that I had to talk to you. You saved me from Sylar. I just knew that if I could talk to you everything would be better."
"I'm flattered. Has it helped?"
"A little," Claire said, a smile in her voice. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this, Peter. How can I keep looking at my dad every day as if I didn't know about freaks like us? I don't think that I can stay here."
"Are you talking about running away?" Peter asked. "I don't think I can support that. I know it must be hard for you—"
"You have no idea how hard it is," Claire interrupted. "My own father, well, adopted father, tried to have my memories erased. How am I supposed to live with the knowledge that he tried to take away part of who I am? He's a monster and it's getting harder and harder not to let it show how much I hate him."
"It's never fun learning about who your father really is, believe me, I know," Peter said, thinking of his own rocky relationship with his dad.
"Don't treat me like some kid," Claire hissed.
"I'm not," Peter hastened to say. "I just know what it's like to have issues with your father."
"Then help me," Claire pleaded. "I can't stay here much longer, Peter."
"Don't do anything yet," Peter said. "Give me some time to try to figure something out."
"Promise?" Claire asked, sounding happier already.
"I promise," Peter said. "I'll call you back at this number when I can."
"Thanks, Peter. Good bye."
"Bye, Claire," Peter said, disconnecting.
The next day she received the text from Peter with their meeting time.