Fic: Pieces, One-Shot (Nathan/Claire)
Title: Pieces
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairings: Platonic Nathan/Claire, heavily implied Peter/Claire
Warnings: Bucket loads of angst… :/
Summary: What if Peter died the night of the fight with Sylar? Who would Claire turn to for comfort?
Possible multi chapter fic.
A/N: An idea that I know would have kept bugging me until I wrote it. This can be a potential longer fic…for now; I’ve left it at this. I know I’ve played around with who dies the night of the fight a lot and now that it’s been confirmed that Nathan is the one who dies, I felt even MORE compelled to write a fic with him alive, even if it meant killing off my love… :( But I can promise I’ll be doing something fluffy with Paire to make up with this soon! :D Yes, I named this after a RED song whose lyrics I just HAD to include…sorry! :P but it just fit… hahaha. And I do know I have borrowed a quote from Claire in season2 but that fit as well so… anyhow, I hope you enjoy this…
Pieces
…
Prologue:
He remembers...
Remembers vividly her face when she walked out of the building, blood staining her face and clothes, tears streaming down her face…he had stepped forward, his arms instinctively reaching for her but to his discontent, Noah had beat him to it, enveloping her in a tight hug. She had held onto her adoptive father for a moment before she pulled away, her sad eyes locked on his.
He remembers her trembling form as she ran into his arms, her helpless sobs as he held her to him, fighting his own tears…remembers Noah’s confused expression as he watched them. She didn’t let go, not for a long time and he held her, ignoring the eyes of everyone present on them, the sole thought on his mind having been to give his daughter comfort; comfort she was in desperate need of at that moment.
She had looked up at him with red eyes when she had pulled back, her bloody face wet with tears. His heart had ached badly as he had touched her cheek gently but she had shook her head, eyes closing in grief as she mumbled in a broken voice.
“Peter…”
Nathan had swallowed, his heart aching painfully as he bent his head to bring it to level with hers, trying to get the crying girl to look at him, “Claire,” he’d said gently. She had refused to meet his eyes, “Claire, honey, what happened in there?”
She hadn’t replied. After another sobbed ‘Peter’ she had hugged him again, just crying harder. He had sighed helplessly, looking over her head at Noah in silent defeat.
And so no one knew. What had happened inside that hotel room...how Peter had died...where Sylar had gone...Claire wouldn’t tell them and they wouldn’t ask.
He had kissed her forehead before she had gone back to her adoptive father, Noah’s arm wrapping protectively around her shoulder as he led her to the car. He had watched the black SUV drive off, leaving him standing alone, with nothing but the haunting memories of her crying face and the weight the grief over the loss of his younger brother heavy on his shoulders.
Claire Bennet
I'm here again
a thousand miles away from you
a broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am…
But then l see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole…
-Pieces; RED
Two weeks later…
She sat huddled in a corner of her room, the comfort of her bed long forgotten; her knees drawn tightly up to her chest, her face held in hands wet with tears, her trembling lips occasionally forcing the salty taste of falling tears down her dry throat.
It was dark, even with the sun shining bright just outside her bedroom window…it was dark. The tightly drawn curtains made sure of that. The shut windows promised isolation, an escape from the noise of the busying world outside filled with people. Normal people still able to sleep, eat, go to work, walk freely…people who could get on with their lives without any haunting thoughts or fears to make them stop every few steps and look over their shoulders, without the pain and grief of losing loved ones. She envied them.
She couldn’t remember a time in the past two weeks when her face was dry, completely barren of tears…she couldn’t remember the last time she had ate…the last time she had showered or gone out…she couldn’t remember anything, really. All she felt was a dull numbness…spreading from the top of her head to her toes; numbness that made her immune to her surroundings but did nothing to ease away the hurt, loss and pain she felt.
Pain…
It was ironic really; for being the single indestructible person in the house, she hurt the most. No matter what she did, how hard she tried, the pain wouldn’t leave. It would stay with her, wherever she went, suffocating her to an extent that she couldn’t breathe.
She was plagued by memories, memories of him. Memories that brought her pain, an aching in her heart that grew stronger with every second, bringing with it stinging tears…It didn’t help that the memories were sharp; clear as if they were happening right in front of her eyes.
She remembered him, vividly at that…the way his eyes had crinkled when he smiled…the way his lip had crooked to the side when he did…how his bangs had fell onto his forehead…how he had always emitted the feeling of safety and security when he was with her, how just the soothing touch of his hand brushing over her skin, voiding it of her tears had felt…
And it was then that she would feel his loss the most…when she realized with a lurch of her stomach, with a stab in her heart that he was gone.
She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, couldn’t stop the shivering coursing through her body, not when she was confronted by the cruel reality of the face that she would no longer be able to see that crooked smile, those emo bangs…she would no longer be able to feel safe with his arm around her, no longer seek the comfort of his hand to wipe away her tears…
He was gone; her hero was gone. And she had nothing but bittersweet memories to hold onto.
She broke down into more tears, unable to stop them. She didn’t hear the knock on her door but it didn’t really matter; she couldn’t have found the energy in her to tell whoever it was to enter anyways.
“Claire?” It was her dad…using the same concerned tone he used every time he talked to her. She withdrew her hands from her face, squinting slightly as her pupils adjusted to the sudden bright sunlight streaming in through the door. Why did it feel so foreign? Had it really been that long since she had seen sunlight? Noah rushed to her side, pulling her to her feet and hugging her. It did nothing to soothe her, nothing to fill her longing for comfort, for something to give her a fraction of the comfort he provided.
Her father sat her down on her bed, taking a seat beside her as she took a shaky breath in attempt to pull herself together. She didn’t meet his gaze, not wanting to render guilt at the thought of how selfish she had been these past days, not thinking once about how her family was affected by her behavior.
“Claire…” Noah repeated, “Your mother and I are very concerned about you sweetheart…I understand your still upset over Peter’s-” she tensed immediately.
After avoiding his name, even in her head in an attempt to save herself of the pain it brought, hearing it spoken so casually and that too while referring to his…no, she didn’t want to think of that…just the mention of it just threw her off guard.
Noah seemed to notice this for he shook his head quickly, “Claire-bear, you need to move on in life. Your 19, your young…you have your whole life in front of you… starting college is the best option for... Get out of the house, make new friends, try… try moving on.”
She remained silent. Noah stared at her for a moment before he sighed in defeat, standing up. He looked around her darkened room for a moment, a disapproving expression painting his features. He had long given up hope to get her to open the curtains, let the air in… as had her mother. They had argued at first, but had eventually given up. Noah sighed again once before turning his gaze back on her. “I love you Claire-bear…you know that…and I can’t see you like this…I will do anything to make things better for you…all you have to do is try…” he sighed, looking at her once last time before leaving her room.
She watched him go, biting her lip to keep from crying again. He didn’t understand… it was easy for him to say that she had her whole life in front of her, that what she should have been doing was making friends and partying… but what he didn’t understand was how the knowledge of the very fact that she had her whole life in front of her disturbed her. She had thought he would be there for her, he would absorb her powers and stay with her, protect her…but now…
Sylar had been right; she would be left all alone…
She saw her cell phone lying inches away on her bed and she instinctively reached for it.
She had been out of touch with pretty much everyone in her life the past two weeks. All the other heroes…her grandmother…even her own adoptive family despite the fact that she lived with them… the only person she was truly in contact with was Nathan.
Whenever she felt exceptionally depressed, whenever she felt she was going to explode with emotional overload, she turned to him. She didn’t know what it was in her biological father that compelled her to call him…even before she knew him like she did now, when she had just moved to Costa Verde…after the first time he had…died…she had turned to Nathan.
He provided her comfort, not the initial comfort she wanted, he didn’t say much, but it was just something soothing in his words…perhaps it was the mutual understanding of the loss that calmed her. No matter how much her adoptive father tried to show he understood, he would never be able to understand Peter’s loss like she and Nathan did. Nathan’s words, whatever they were, brought her comfort.
And so she couldn’t help but feel a small beacon of hope as she dialed his number, knowing that comfort, however little it may be, was guaranteed.
He picked up on the second ring, “Hello?”
She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I’ve fallen 20 stories... I’ve been stabbed in the head, crashed a car at 70 miles an hour… I’ve even been on fire…” Nathan didn’t say anything on the other end, probably sensing from her tone that she was the one who wanted to talk this time, not something that happened too often. She opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face, “But this hurts...” she cried, her voice cracking, “more than any of that… And it’s not getting better.” Nathan was still silent, she took another shaky breath, swallowing, “I’ve always gotten better, no matter what but this… this just keeps getting worse…” She trailed off, tears and sobs consuming her.
There was momentary silence on Nathan’s end before she heard a soft, ‘Honey…’ She sobbed again, every time he called her that, she felt a strange longing to be with him, to hug him, to acknowledge solidly that he cared, that he was there for her…
“It’s funny isn’t it?” she asked, her bitter smile masked with her cracked voice, “I’m the most indestructible person and yet, I don’t think anyone can understand the pain I’m going through…I just…I cant-I cant handle it anymore…my dad’s telling me to start college to move on…but I just…cant let it go…is that too hard to understand? It’s just been two weeks…”
“Honey, your pain is completely justified,” Nathan said softly. She closed her eyes, she heard him take a deep breath, “But your dad is right…I’m not saying that you listen to him and start college from tomorrow. Take your time, as much time as you need. These wounds don’t heal fast, take it from me, I know…but at the end of the day, you’re going to have to move on…”
She swallowed, “They care so much…my mom…my dad…and all I’m doing is staying locked away in my room, not talking to them…nothing…I’m just being selfish… -”
“That’s not true Claire, you’re not being selfish,” Nathan cut in firmly, “it’s completely natural, the way you’re acting.... Sometimes things happen that…that change us. For the good for the bad…but those changes don’t always last… it’s a phase, honey, you’ll get through it…and whenever you need me…you know I’m here…”
She bit her lip and nodded, realizing a moment later that Nathan couldn’t see her. “Thanks,” she said in a cracked voice. This was what she had needed…someone to tell her that it was natural how she was feeling, that her isolation and crying was justified…
“Anytime honey,” she sensed a note of finality in his tone, knowing it was the cue to hang up.
She took barely a moment to consider her next words. “Can I come to New York?”
…
The silence was hanging around them, the heat of her father’s surveying stare burning into her. She looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze. The lounge seemed unfamiliar to her. Like the sunlight, it seemed foreign and she found herself wondering the last time she had been there.
“Claire,” she knew the tone, it was firm and meant he wanted her to look at him. She slowly met his gaze, unsure of what she would find; he stared at her for a moment before asking in a low voice, “You’re sure about this?”
She nodded, “Yes,” she replied firmly. “It’s not helping me here and maybe if I spent some time with my…other family…maybe that could help?”
Noah stared at her again before he sighed, “If that’s what you want.”
She smiled sadly, truth be told, going to New York was not what she wanted, but the thought of being able to see Nathan again, to be able to constantly have him with her instead of waiting for their phone conversations was inviting to say the least. He understood her need to be alone and maybe she would be able to recover quicker if she didn’t have to worry about feeling guilty about ignoring her adoptive family.
She stood up, walking over to her adoptive father and willingly hugging him for the first time in two weeks. He smiled, hugging her back and kissing the top of her head. “Thanks Dad,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Anything for you Claire-bear,” he replied.
She pulled back, smiling at him again briefly before heading upstairs to her bedroom. Now that she had her father’s permission, she was desperate to leave as soon as she could.
Nathan Petrelli
When Claire had told him she wanted to come and stay in New York with him, he had been, to say the least, surprised. He had known she wasn’t getting on very well in Costa Verde but to want to come and live with him…? He had agreed immediately, of course. He couldn’t remember the number of times he had wanted to go to her himself, comfort her while present instead of while talking over the phone. Having her so close to him was going to be easier.
He had changed, or more accurately, Claire had changed him. The last time his brother had died, he had gone insane, becoming an alcoholic, driving his family and kids away…but this time was different. He was tempted, no doubt to take refuge in alcohol, every time he saw a bottle of scotch, every time he saw a picture of Peter reminding him of his death…but this time he had a purpose, a reason not to. And that reason was Claire. He needed to stay sober; he needed to keep himself together so he could stop her from falling into pieces.
Peter’s death had affected her in ways only she truly knew and which he could only guess. His brother had a sort of natural warmth to him…something that drew people to him. So it wouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that Claire was attached. But he knew that their relationship had been so much more. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Claire had had in her heart for the kid what with him going half way across the country to throw himself off a building for her without even knowing her name…he was her hero, like she reminded him countless times.
Besides the whole episode in Odessa, she had saved him too. The savior act was mutual; they had saved each other, helped each other and been there for each other through thick and thin. It was perfectly understandable how Claire was so heartbroken over his death.
He had memories himself. Peter had been his brother after all…he had memories of them as kids, growing up, as adults…but every time he felt tempted to find a means to numb the pain the memories brought, he would think of Claire; remind himself that she needed him.
His eyes suddenly sought out a short blond head making its way through the crowded airport. He immediately straightened up from where he was leaning against a wall, putting himself in her line of vision. He took a moment to look at her as she walked forward, pulling a suitcase behind her. She had lost weight, lots of it. Her once petite frame was so much thinner...her face not betraying the grief he knew she carried in her heart.
He felt his heart break at the sight of her and he shook his head sadly, stepping forward. Claire’s eyes finally saw him and she quickened her pace, letting go of her suitcase as soon as she was near enough and walking briskly into his open arms. It felt familiar to him for some reason; hugging her, putting his arms around her in a protective…well, fatherly manner… She held him tightly, reminding him painfully of the last time they had hugged.
He pulled away a moment later too look at her closely, her cheekbones were more hollow and there were bags under her eyes…all things her regeneration didn’t prevent. She offered him a small, sad smile and he kissed her forehead lightly, putting an arm around her shoulder as he led her to the limo; nodding his head at his chauffer towards her luggage.
“How are you Claire?” he asked once they were seated inside the vehicle. It was a stupid question to ask really, he should have known she would be miserable.
Claire didn’t reply immediately and he waited patiently, “I don’t know…” she replied quietly, looking up at him to meet his gaze.
“Judging by our conversations I would say your hurting pretty bad…” he said. There was no point denying it, no point sugar coating things. The truth was the truth, however bitter it may be.
Claire didn’t reply, just turned to stare out the tinted limo windows. “It’s cold here…” she commented absent mindedly.
He smiled slightly. “It’s New York,” he offered.
Angela greeted Claire warmly, embracing the young woman fondly as she entered the Petrelli mansion and immediately telling her off for not taking proper care of herself. Claire forced a smile and responded politely before he convinced his mother that she was most likely tired and wanted some rest. Claire cast a great full look over Angela’s back at him.
He motioned for her with his arm, wrapping it around her delicate shoulders as he led her upstairs to the room she had only once before occupied. She remained frozen in the doorway for a moment, confusing him.
“Claire?” he questioned. She stared at the doorframe to her right, swallowing silently before she turned back to the room, stepping away from him and taking a shaky breath.
“It’s…nothing. I’m fine.” She assured him, giving him a brief smile.
He wasn’t convinced, not one bit. But he nodded nevertheless. “Henry brought your bags up…if you need anything, just let me know.”
Claire nodded, looking around the room before meeting his gaze. “Thank you…” she said in a quiet voice. He saw the tears welling in her eyes and walked over to her, reaching out to rest his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m glad you’re here, honey…” he said, pulling her into a quick hug before smiling at her and leaving her to the privacy of her room. He knew she would want it. More than that, he knew she needed it.