just_1_word prompt 39.10 [parent]
When Claire heard the sound of tiny pebbles bouncing off her bedroom window, she had a moment where she felt like she was back in high school. But she wasn’t. That girl had been gone for a long time and now she wasn’t really filled with excitement when she heard the noise. Instead there was an odd mixture of hope and dread twisting around inside of her as she pushed back the blankets on her bed so that she could slide out and move to her window.
When she peeked out, she didn’t see anything but shadows. Not that it kept her from opening the window with a sense of trepidation as the wind assaulted her senses. As soon as there was a way to gain entrance, she could see the shadows moving and so she pulled back as she watched a dark haired figure struggle to climb in.
For one heart beat, she wanted to believe it could be him but it wasn’t.
“Claire.”
“Peter.” She kept her voice low as she glanced over her shoulder at her bedroom door before looking back at him. “What are you doing?”
“I came to check on you.” He pulled himself to his full height which was amusing to her considering he wasn’t that much taller than her.
“In other words, he sent you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, trying not to frown.
“Yeah.” Peter managed to look somewhat sheepish before he let out a sigh. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just come himself.”
“Because him coming to see me isn’t part of the deal.” The sigh drifted from her as she looked down at the floor, her features rippling with unnamed emotions.
“That’s what he said.” Peter nodded in agreement, sighing as well because he didn’t understand the whole thing. It just didn’t make sense to him but that was probably because he would have done it all differently. But this wasn’t his life and they were the ones who had come up with the plan, not him.
For a long time she simply stood there, staring hard at the floor as though it would open up to give her some kind of answer or peace but there was neither for her. Finally she had to look at the man that she considered to be the closest thing she had to a best friend beyond him being her uncle. “How is he?”
Boy, was that a loaded question.
“Most days, he’s fine? He doesn’t talk a lot though.” Peter hated to admit it because it was weird but the concern was there as he thought of the other man in question. “I think he has to fight each day not come here.”
“He can’t.” She shook her head strongly.
“Why not?”
“Because if he does, I know I’ll go with him.” She swallowed thickly again. She knew Peter didn’t understand it really but she was sure he understood the idea of loving someone so completely that it was like ripping yourself apart to just stay away from them.
Peter didn’t answer her, at least not verbally but he chose to hug her instead. She was thankful for the show of support as she wrapped her arms around him, taking the moment to control her emotions by hiding her face in his chest. It helped but it was little comfort next to hugging who she really wanted to hug.
“I shouldn’t stay for long.” He couldn’t hide the regret in his tone as he started to pull back. “Is your dad still keeping the new Company away?”
“Yes.” She sighed, pulling back. “They have kept their promise and so has he. I came home and they’ve left me alone. It helps that they think Sylar is gone somewhere else.”
“Good.” It was only for that reason that he didn’t take her with him right now. “Do you have pictures?”
“Yes.” She turned around quickly, moving to the stand beside her bed where she had stashed a small photo album. It was only the size of a novel but it contained more than enough pictures to keep the recipient at bay for a little while. Pulling it out, she handed it over to him.
“Thank you.” Peter took the book, opening it up so that he could flip through the pages quickly.
Claire watched him quietly, imagining that it was Sylar she was watching and that it was his face showing tenderness as he studied the different pictures. She wondered if he smiled when he looked at the pictures or did he just frown? She wanted to believe he was happy even if it was killing them both to stay away from each other. Remembering the situation caused her throat to close as she had the strong urge to start crying again.
“P-Peter?”
He looked up as her voice trembled and he watched her try not to break in front of him. “What?”
“Will you tell him that nothing has changed? That it hasn’t changed at all?” It felt almost wrong to give her uncle the same vow she always gave him, the one he carried to Sylar every time he came to see her.
“I will.” Peter hated the empathic side of himself that felt the pain radiating from her and he often wondered how he came to be the go-between for them but here he was. He moved to hug her again but the soft knock on her door caused them to stop, their eyes widening in surprise.
“Claire?” The soft voice on the other side sounded concerned, possibly confused.
“It’s my mom.” Claire hissed as she turned to her uncle, starting to push at him. “You need to go.”
He didn’t argue as he rushed for the window but he did pause when he was half way out. “I’ll be back.”
“I know.” She smiled weakly at him before kissing his forehead. She stepped back as he disappeared, frowning softly before turning around to rush to her door. She made sure to look tired as she opened the door, blinking wearily at her mother. “What?”
Sandra frowned, waiting for her daughter to step back before she walked into the bedroom. “Who were you talking to?” She asked suspiciously, arching a brow as she turned around slowly.
Claire thought about lying, she really did but it went against a promise she had made long ago. “Peter.”
“Claire.” Now she was being fixed with a disappointed look. “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?”
“No. Of course not.” The younger blonde sighed softly before arching a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Emma woke up.” Sandra looked down at the dark haired bundle in her arms. “I tried to get her back to sleep but I think she wanted her Mama.” All disappointment faded as she smiled softly, almost looking amused.
Claire forgot the last couple of minutes as she walked forward, slipping her arms around her daughter to pull the baby close against her. Emma had been quiet but as soon as she was held against Claire’s familiar body, she let out a little mewling noise as she started to nuzzle with an open mouth. “I think she’s hungry.” Claire rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle. “Demanding bugger, aren’t you?” She teased her daughter as she moved to sit down on her bed, propping some pillows up behind her.
Sandra watched quietly as Claire opened her shirt and allowed her daughter to attach with no reaction at all. It always looked a bit painful and Claire often joked that Emma was as greedy as her father but of course Claire didn’t feel any sort of ache as her daughter fed. The older woman sometimes envied her daughter for the joy of actually having a child of her own blood but it didn’t matter as both girls were definitely Sandra’s.
This made it hard at times to know Claire was in pain even if the younger girl masked it well. So she moved forward, pausing beside her daughter’s bed as she reached out to brush her fingers against Claire’s temple. “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”
“Me?” That seemed to surprise Claire as she looked up at her mother. “Why?”
“Because you’re doing what you’re doing.” Sandra nodded, tucking a curl behind the girl’s hair.
Claire wanted to tell her there was no reason to be proud but she swallowed the words down along with the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Mom.”
Sandra smiled softly, kissing the top of her daughter’s head before she slipped away to let herself out of the room. She was hoping to get some sleep before it would be her turn to take Emma for a little while in the morning.
As Claire was left alone in the silence, she looked down at her daughter before smoothing a finger lightly over her forehead. Emma reacted almost instantly as she made a frustrated whimper at being bugged while feeding and so she bit down a little harder. Claire winced at the pressure as though it hurt and then she had to chuckle. “You’re definitely like your father.” She muttered, rolling her eyes a little.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was aware of the ache in the center of her chest and she had to sigh as she looked over at the open window. Her father had tried to tell her before that she would never really understand sacrifice till she was a parent and she was finally starting to get what he had meant.
[hadtobeahero is used with permission and love. The use of Sandra isn't aimed at a specific journal.]
When she peeked out, she didn’t see anything but shadows. Not that it kept her from opening the window with a sense of trepidation as the wind assaulted her senses. As soon as there was a way to gain entrance, she could see the shadows moving and so she pulled back as she watched a dark haired figure struggle to climb in.
For one heart beat, she wanted to believe it could be him but it wasn’t.
“Claire.”
“Peter.” She kept her voice low as she glanced over her shoulder at her bedroom door before looking back at him. “What are you doing?”
“I came to check on you.” He pulled himself to his full height which was amusing to her considering he wasn’t that much taller than her.
“In other words, he sent you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, trying not to frown.
“Yeah.” Peter managed to look somewhat sheepish before he let out a sigh. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just come himself.”
“Because him coming to see me isn’t part of the deal.” The sigh drifted from her as she looked down at the floor, her features rippling with unnamed emotions.
“That’s what he said.” Peter nodded in agreement, sighing as well because he didn’t understand the whole thing. It just didn’t make sense to him but that was probably because he would have done it all differently. But this wasn’t his life and they were the ones who had come up with the plan, not him.
For a long time she simply stood there, staring hard at the floor as though it would open up to give her some kind of answer or peace but there was neither for her. Finally she had to look at the man that she considered to be the closest thing she had to a best friend beyond him being her uncle. “How is he?”
Boy, was that a loaded question.
“Most days, he’s fine? He doesn’t talk a lot though.” Peter hated to admit it because it was weird but the concern was there as he thought of the other man in question. “I think he has to fight each day not come here.”
“He can’t.” She shook her head strongly.
“Why not?”
“Because if he does, I know I’ll go with him.” She swallowed thickly again. She knew Peter didn’t understand it really but she was sure he understood the idea of loving someone so completely that it was like ripping yourself apart to just stay away from them.
Peter didn’t answer her, at least not verbally but he chose to hug her instead. She was thankful for the show of support as she wrapped her arms around him, taking the moment to control her emotions by hiding her face in his chest. It helped but it was little comfort next to hugging who she really wanted to hug.
“I shouldn’t stay for long.” He couldn’t hide the regret in his tone as he started to pull back. “Is your dad still keeping the new Company away?”
“Yes.” She sighed, pulling back. “They have kept their promise and so has he. I came home and they’ve left me alone. It helps that they think Sylar is gone somewhere else.”
“Good.” It was only for that reason that he didn’t take her with him right now. “Do you have pictures?”
“Yes.” She turned around quickly, moving to the stand beside her bed where she had stashed a small photo album. It was only the size of a novel but it contained more than enough pictures to keep the recipient at bay for a little while. Pulling it out, she handed it over to him.
“Thank you.” Peter took the book, opening it up so that he could flip through the pages quickly.
Claire watched him quietly, imagining that it was Sylar she was watching and that it was his face showing tenderness as he studied the different pictures. She wondered if he smiled when he looked at the pictures or did he just frown? She wanted to believe he was happy even if it was killing them both to stay away from each other. Remembering the situation caused her throat to close as she had the strong urge to start crying again.
“P-Peter?”
He looked up as her voice trembled and he watched her try not to break in front of him. “What?”
“Will you tell him that nothing has changed? That it hasn’t changed at all?” It felt almost wrong to give her uncle the same vow she always gave him, the one he carried to Sylar every time he came to see her.
“I will.” Peter hated the empathic side of himself that felt the pain radiating from her and he often wondered how he came to be the go-between for them but here he was. He moved to hug her again but the soft knock on her door caused them to stop, their eyes widening in surprise.
“Claire?” The soft voice on the other side sounded concerned, possibly confused.
“It’s my mom.” Claire hissed as she turned to her uncle, starting to push at him. “You need to go.”
He didn’t argue as he rushed for the window but he did pause when he was half way out. “I’ll be back.”
“I know.” She smiled weakly at him before kissing his forehead. She stepped back as he disappeared, frowning softly before turning around to rush to her door. She made sure to look tired as she opened the door, blinking wearily at her mother. “What?”
Sandra frowned, waiting for her daughter to step back before she walked into the bedroom. “Who were you talking to?” She asked suspiciously, arching a brow as she turned around slowly.
Claire thought about lying, she really did but it went against a promise she had made long ago. “Peter.”
“Claire.” Now she was being fixed with a disappointed look. “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?”
“No. Of course not.” The younger blonde sighed softly before arching a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Emma woke up.” Sandra looked down at the dark haired bundle in her arms. “I tried to get her back to sleep but I think she wanted her Mama.” All disappointment faded as she smiled softly, almost looking amused.
Claire forgot the last couple of minutes as she walked forward, slipping her arms around her daughter to pull the baby close against her. Emma had been quiet but as soon as she was held against Claire’s familiar body, she let out a little mewling noise as she started to nuzzle with an open mouth. “I think she’s hungry.” Claire rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle. “Demanding bugger, aren’t you?” She teased her daughter as she moved to sit down on her bed, propping some pillows up behind her.
Sandra watched quietly as Claire opened her shirt and allowed her daughter to attach with no reaction at all. It always looked a bit painful and Claire often joked that Emma was as greedy as her father but of course Claire didn’t feel any sort of ache as her daughter fed. The older woman sometimes envied her daughter for the joy of actually having a child of her own blood but it didn’t matter as both girls were definitely Sandra’s.
This made it hard at times to know Claire was in pain even if the younger girl masked it well. So she moved forward, pausing beside her daughter’s bed as she reached out to brush her fingers against Claire’s temple. “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”
“Me?” That seemed to surprise Claire as she looked up at her mother. “Why?”
“Because you’re doing what you’re doing.” Sandra nodded, tucking a curl behind the girl’s hair.
Claire wanted to tell her there was no reason to be proud but she swallowed the words down along with the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Mom.”
Sandra smiled softly, kissing the top of her daughter’s head before she slipped away to let herself out of the room. She was hoping to get some sleep before it would be her turn to take Emma for a little while in the morning.
As Claire was left alone in the silence, she looked down at her daughter before smoothing a finger lightly over her forehead. Emma reacted almost instantly as she made a frustrated whimper at being bugged while feeding and so she bit down a little harder. Claire winced at the pressure as though it hurt and then she had to chuckle. “You’re definitely like your father.” She muttered, rolling her eyes a little.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was aware of the ache in the center of her chest and she had to sigh as she looked over at the open window. Her father had tried to tell her before that she would never really understand sacrifice till she was a parent and she was finally starting to get what he had meant.
[hadtobeahero is used with permission and love. The use of Sandra isn't aimed at a specific journal.]