Nathan & Claire: "And Everything Changes"
Title: And Everything Changes
Rating: PG (K+)
Word Count: 4,116
Status: Complete
Fandom: Heroes
Genre(s): Drama
Spoilers: up to 2x08 "Four Months Ago"
Pairings/Characters: Nathan, Claire, Peter, HRG, Heidi, Angela
Summary: Both Nathan and Claire suffer through the aftermath of the event at Kirby Plaza, with Claire stepping into Nathan's life to stop him from losing all control.
A/N: My 1st Heroes fic! Also, Claire does realize she has not very appropriate feelings for Peter, but since neither she nor Peter acts on it, I don't consider this to also be a Peter/Claire fic.
And Everything Changes
It takes her an entire week to even try to accept that they’re dead.
She hasn’t cried since; she thinks maybe the shock at what transpired has not gone away just yet. Or maybe some part of her is still in denial. Or maybe it’s a mixture of both, if that’s even possible.
That night at Kirby Plaza invades her dreams; in her slumber she relives it all: her pointing the gun at Peter, her face screwed up as despair takes over her; Nathan arriving just in time, lowering her gun down gently (You were right, Claire. The future is not written in stone.); Peter and Nathan zooming up into the sky; the flash of light bursting across the sky, followed by a silence that’s much too long.
It’s a harsh reminder every time she wakes up, a reminder that they’re not coming back, they’re never coming back, because they couldn’t have survived that (Peter has her ability of regeneration, so she’s not too sure about his fate, but he hasn’t been found, and besides, she gave up hoping a few days ago), and that realization just makes her feel more and more empty inside.
But yes, her biological father and uncle are gone, perhaps gone forever, and while she knows it will take probably forever as well to not feel so lost because of it, she guesses she is on the way to making some progress.
That is, until she gets the phone call.
***
She and her family are temporarily living with her grandmother in Dallas until her parents find a new house, since their old one is now pretty much non-existent due to Ted Sprague’s radioactive disaster.
She lost everything in that fire, every last trace that showed who she was, all the memories in that house growing up… but most of what she lost were material things, tangible objects, and while she should still feel much more upset at this than she currently was, she was not. She can’t really bring herself to think about that now, for the loss of Peter and Nathan is all she can think about, and it’s that sort of grief that incessantly blinds her.
She knows her father notices her pain, even though she is able to convince her mom, Lyle, and grandmother with smiles that she’s perfectly fine. Sometimes while eating dinner or sitting on the couch she’ll look up and see him looking at her, studying her, his blue eyes crinkling in concern behind his glasses. But he never says anything, and she suspects he does this because he feels she needs some time on her own to think about what happened, to think about what she’s lost and how she’s going to adjust. He knows her all too well.
After dinner she retreats to one of the guest bedrooms which currently serves as her own, and lies down on the bed, a long sigh escaping her lips.
The ring of her cell phone makes her jump, and she digs into the pocket of her jeans, pulling it out and quickly answering it.
“Hello?”
“Claire?”
She sits up in shock at the sound of Heidi’s voice.
When she visited Nathan’s home for the first time, Heidi was really the one, besides Peter, that was warm to her, that made her feel a little more comfortable with each passing day, and even though it wasn’t often that she had the chance to speak to Heidi, her good opinion of her was already formed when Heidi had greeted her for the first time with a smile. Finding out your husband has an illegitimate daughter can’t really be pleasant at first, so Claire was grateful that Heidi attempted to be nice to her.
“Heidi?” She responds, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Yes,” Heidi continues, and Claire takes notice of her hesitation, her tone of voice that suggested something was not right, “I felt I had to tell you, Claire. My husband-- your father, he’s in the hospital. There’s been a sort of accident.”
Her breath quickens at these news, at the fact that Nathan‘s alive, but she doesn’t take notice, not now. “ Is he okay? I mean, is it serious?”
“He’s badly burned, Claire.” Heidi says, a tightness suddenly appearing in her voice, and Claire can tell she’s trying hard to hold back the tears. “ He’ll never be the same.”
Claire doesn’t quite know how to respond, the shock is too much. She has the strong urge to ask about Peter, but something tells her it’s not the right time.
After a moment, she says, “I’ll come see him immediately.”
Heidi gives her the name of the hospital where Nathan’s at, along with the room number, and Claire jots it down with a shaking hand.
“Okay, I got it.”
“Now, I’m sure Angela didn’t want me telling you this just yet, but I felt that you needed to know.”
Her heart goes out to Heidi. “Thanks, Heidi.”
“You’re welcome, Claire. Take care of yourself.”
“You too. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
Nearly a minute after Heidi hung up she finally hangs up the phone, her eyes never leaving the paper she’s clutching in her hands.
***
She approaches her father at the kitchen counter. Her mom, Lyle, and grandmother had already gone to sleep, and the house was quiet.
“Dad?”
He turns to look at her, and his face quickly takes on concern as he takes in her pale face.
“Claire? Is something wrong?”
She doesn’t reply, just merely hands the paper to him, and when he reads it, he looks up at her in confusion.
“Heidi, Nathan’s wife, called me earlier.” She explains. “Nathan’s alive. He’s in the hospital. She says he’s burned real bad.”
Her father studies her for a few seconds, then says, “You want to see him.”
“Yes, dad. I really do.”
After a few more seconds of silence, he nods, bringing his hand up to touch a side of her face. “Okay, Claire-bear. We’ll go.”
She moves forward and hugs him, grateful that he understands. “Thanks, dad.”
He hugs her back, tightly, then withdraws from the embrace and stands up, smiling. “Now, how about some ice cream?”
She smiles.
***
On the airplane she is quiet most of the time, staring out of the window at the sky.
It’s only a few minutes afterward of doing this that she’s reminded of Peter and Nathan disappearing into the sky, this very sky, and she looks away, almost hastily.
Her father seems to sense her discomfort, for he puts his hand over hers to reassure her.
When they finally arrive at the hospital, she starts to shake, which she knows is not due to the strong air-conditioning.
Upon reaching the room where Nathan is, she sees Angela standing outside of it, almost like she has been waiting for them.
Her father’s voice makes her jump slightly. “I’ll be out here, Claire-bear.”
She nods at him, and approaches Angela, meeting her steely gaze, but Angela says nothing, and to her surprise, moves out of her way. She can tell by Angela’s face that she is not particularly glad to see her. But Claire can’t honestly think of a time when Angela was ever glad to see her, so she’s not that offended.
She passes by Angela, stepping softly into the room, and after a little over a week, she sees Nathan.
She tries hard to hold in her gasp at the sight before her. Badly burned was right, she realizes.
One side of his body is fine, but the other side…if you looked at him from that side he’d be completely unrecognizable to you, no matter how long you’ve known him.
They could try to fix him, but it probably wouldn’t make much of a difference. He’ll always be disfigured now.
Nathan doesn’t know she’s there: his eyes are closed. And she thinks that is probably for the best.
If Nathan looks like this, then Peter…
She can’t bring herself to finish that thought.
Footsteps behind her make her look around, and it’s Angela, her face set in a tight, almost indifferent mask.
“Peter?” She inquires quietly, but she already knows the truth in her mind, in her heart.
Angela doesn't even look at her. “He’s gone. We’re going to have to accept that now.”
She nearly flinches at Angela’s clipped voice.
She looks back at Nathan. Their voices have not disturbed him.
A few seconds of awkward silence go by, and she doesn’t think she can stand being here any longer.
Without a word to Angela, she leaves the room, and her father’s there, wasting no time putting an arm around her as they walk on down the hallway.
It’s only when they exit the hospital that she begins to cry, her father’s arms being her only consolation.
***
Four months has passed since that night at Kirby Plaza, and she’s still trying to adjust to her new life.
She and her family moved to California, and she never felt more alone in her life.
A few weeks ago she had found Nathan’s cell phone number on a slip of paper in her purse; it had been there for months but she had completely forgot about it. It was then that she remembered when he gave it to her when she stayed at his house for a while (‘If you ever need me.’), and realizing that she did need him, she had been calling him ever since.
At first, she could tell in his voice that he couldn’t understand why she was calling him, and it hurt, for that was not exactly the greeting she wanted to receive. But she continues to call him, sometimes five times a week, and he doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance.
Her mom, Lyle, not even her dad, know that she’s calling him, and she prefers it that way.
She goes into her bedroom, getting ready for bed, when that urge to call him comes again, and within seconds he’s on the line.
“Claire.”
She hears his impatient sigh, and she wonders why, if she bothers him so much, that he never just refuses to answer her calls.
She struggles for something to say. When she calls him, she’s always at a loss as to what to say, yet she still calls him. And honestly, she doesn’t really understand why.
“Why do you do this?”
His question is not cruel, but weary. It stings just as much, though.
“I just need someone to talk to.”
She’s told him that a thousand times.
“You have a family, Claire. Go talk to them.”
Her heart sinks. “ But you’re my family too.”
He sighs again.
“I’m your daughter,” She adds quietly. “Why do you keep pushing everyone who cares about you away?”
His end of the line is silent for a few seconds, yet it feels more like an eternity.
“I’m sorry.” He finally says, simply and calmly.
The click resounds loud in her ear.
***
She misses Peter. Her wounds never last physically, yet her emotional ones seem to last a lot longer than normal. She wonders if it’s possible that her ache over the loss of him will ever go away.
***
Another week goes by, filled with more phone calls to Nathan that end much too soon.
She knows he hurts. She knows the guilt he feels over Peter’s… disappearance. She can’t bring herself to think ‘death’, because that would mean that she’s fully accepted the idea that Peter’s dead, and she doesn’t want to do that, she can’t. Not yet.
Peter’s gone, but Nathan’s alive in New York, spiraling deeper and deeper into depression. Pretty soon, if he’s not careful, he’ll be gone too, in death.
Knowing that is what makes her decision.
***
Her father doesn’t ask questions, just gets her the plane ticket she needs and hands her a credit card to use for emergencies, along with some cash.
No matter how many unpleasant secrets she‘s found out about him, she’s still so grateful, every day, that he’s her father.
***
She found out from Angela (she contacted her as a last resort) where Nathan was.
She is surprised to find that he doesn’t live with his wife and sons anymore. She had known about him resigning from Congress, but she didn’t know any more details than that.
Strangely enough, she’s not surprised when she learns that Nathan has been staying in Peter’s apartment for the past four months, ever since he was released from the hospital.
In a sad way, it makes sense to her.
***
She climbs the steps to the floor where Peter’s apartment is, feeling more nervous with each step she takes.
When she reaches the door, she decides to knock first, even though she knows where the key is. Peter had told her once where it was, a couple of days after staying at Nathan’s house.
“You’re family,” He had said. “It’s only right you know, if there’s an emergency, or if you just need me or something.”
She could still picture his smile, how his deep brown eyes lit up, and she feels her chest tighten with something that can’t be mistaken for anything else but despair.
She raises a hand and knocks on the door. When there’s no movement from inside, she knocks again.
Nothing.
Maybe he avoids opening the door at all.
She stoops down and reaches under the welcome mat for the key. She unlocks the door and opens it slowly.
She had never seen the inside of Peter’s apartment before, but she guesses that it must be the same way it was before, when Peter was still here. The only difference is that quite a lot of empty beer and whiskey bottles littered the floor, some abandoned on the kitchen table and other surfaces as well.
She knows for a fact they’re Nathan’s. Of course. There were many times during their phone calls that she heard loud talking in the background, along with faint music and the sound of glass meeting a hard surface. So he sometimes went to bars, then sometimes drank here. But by the amount of bottles here she’s beginning to assume that he drinks here more often than at bars.
She wanders around the apartment, careful not to look too long at any of Peter’s belongings, and comes to the conclusion that Nathan’s not here.
So she has no choice but to wait.
***
She preoccupies herself by cleaning, dumping all the bottles in the trash. But after a while, when that’s all done, she finds herself walking into the living room, taking in all the proof that Peter had once been here, that he had once existed.
‘He does exist,’ She reminds herself. ‘He still exists.’
But she knows that defensive thought is useless.
She studies everything: his movie collection, his CD collection, the books lying haphazardly on the TV and coffee table. She even takes notice of a shirt on the floor, along with a pair of worn socks a few feet away.
Her eyes suddenly come to rest on a box that she didn’t take notice of when she first came in. She moves towards it, and realizes they’re full of pictures, some framed, some simply in piles.
She reaches for the first framed picture she sees at the top, and pulls back sharply after something jabbed at her finger, cutting it. It wasn’t a bad cut, and she feels it close and heal as she reaches for the framed picture again, this time more carefully. She holds it up and sees what had cut her. The glass frame was broken; shards of glass spread all over the picture of Nathan and Peter smiling in tuxedos. It was the same picture she saw when she visited Nathan’s house for the first time, learning that Peter was her uncle. Seeing this picture again right now does not comfort her very much.
She picks each piece of glass off the picture and throws them in the trash. She puts the framed picture back in the box and reaches for another one, and pretty soon she’s looking through the whole box.
It’s only when she reaches a picture of her and Peter smiling together, and realizing when and where it was taken, does she begin to cry.
The party is nice, very formal, with important people whose names she probably should know but doesn’t. It’s all to help Nathan’s campaign, and for him, she acts cordial with all those who greet her. She hasn’t been revealed as Nathan’s illegitimate daughter yet ( Nathan promised to do that after the election), so she poses as Peter’s date, if the question of her appearance comes up. Nathan is speaking with people, with Heidi by his side, while Angela does the same at another corner of the room.
She’s been standing in the same corner for the past fifteen minutes; Peter did his best to not leave her alone and neglected, but he kept being called over by Nathan to be introduced as Nathan’s brother, Peter, again and again.
She wonders why she even tried this, why she didn’t just stay in her room until it was over. After another minute or so, she tires of this idle act, and leaves the room, knowing nobody will really notice. She goes upstairs to the room she’s staying in, sitting on the bed. She reaches for her cell phone on the bedside table, thinking about calling her father, when a knock on the door stops her.
“Come in,” She says.
The door opens and Peter steps in, a little off-balance, she notices.
“Are you drunk?” She asks, grinning from ear to ear.
He approaches her, slumping down next to her on the bed. “Just a little bit.”
She understands why he would get drunk right now, though. All he’s been worrying about is the possibility that he’s the exploding man, and it’s only normal that he wanted to calm down for a night with copious amounts of wine.
He looks at her, grinning. “Nathan told me to leave the room for a while because it was starting to show.”
She laughs.
“What about you?” He asks, putting on a serious face the best he can, “ There’s wine available everywhere downstairs. Don’t tell me a seventeen year old doesn’t want to steal some and secretly get drunk.”
She shakes her head, a mock frown upon her lips, “ I can’t. Regeneration prevents me from getting drunk.”
His eyes widen in shock.
“Trust me, I’ve tried.” She adds.
He stares at her for a moment. “That really sucks.”
She sighs. “Yeah.”
They’re quiet for a few seconds, then he says, “Are you okay? You left the room a little quick.”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… hard to adjust to this. They don’t even know who I really am yet.”
He smiles at her. “When the election is over, they’ll know. Nathan will tell the truth.”
She smiles back.
He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but his lips linger there a little too long, which she knows he didn’t mean to have happen. It’s just a comforting gesture; his inebriated state made him make it last longer than it was supposed to.
And when he pulls back and smiles, she can tell she’s the only one who’s noticed.
And after he leaves the room, she feels sick, because she knows the truth. She liked the feeling of it, far too much.
Her silent sobs seem to never die down as she looks down at the picture, as she mourns over the loss of someone who mattered so much to her, much more than she ever realized.
She knows the truth now. She was in love with Peter. There’s no denying it, she can’t anymore, no matter how sick it is.
Her display of grief had prevented her from noticing that someone had entered the apartment, and she has no idea how long Nathan has been standing there when she finally looks up and sees him.
She looks at him through blurry eyes, and he says absolutely nothing.
But she can see in his eyes that he knows the truth too.
***
They sit silently at the kitchen table, her at one end and him at the other. They didn’t deliberately plan that, but it’s still something she takes notice of with a slight sadness. Even when they’re in the same room together they’re so distant from each other.
He looks nothing like the Nathan she used to know. A dark, thick beard coats his face, and his eyes have a darkness in them she’s never seen before. She can smell the whiskey on him from where she sits at her end of the table.
The miracle is that there are no burns anywhere on him. He’s fully recovered physically. How that’s possible she doesn’t know; she remembers how he looked when she saw him in the hospital. But she doesn’t ask, because it would just be a painful reminder of what happened to Peter. And she would rather avoid that remembrance, for both his and her sakes.
“Claire,” He finally says, and she looks quickly up at him, a little startled, “Why are you here? You should go back to your family.”
She stares at him. “I’ve told you before, you’re my family too.”
He says nothing.
She continues. “You can’t keep doing this, Nathan. Everything: your family, your goals, your life… you’re letting it all go.”
“It’s my life, Claire. Not yours.”
She sighs, exasperated. “Well, what about Heidi? Your sons? They need you. Why aren’t you there for them?”
His face tightens. “That’s none of your business.”
She looks down at the table. “ I’m sorry. But you have to know, what happened to Peter was not your fault. He would have exploded anyway. If you hadn’t taken him away from Kirby Plaza, he would have killed millions. You did him a favor.”
He says nothing, and she becomes frustrated. “ You’re being really selfish right now, Nathan. You’re not the only one who misses Peter.”
His eyes flash in defiance. “ I know that, Claire, God.”
She waits a few seconds, calming herself. “Peter was my hero. Because of him, I’m alive today. I miss him a lot too.”
She can’t carry on anymore, and she looks down again at the table so Nathan won’t see the tears filling her eyes.
He sighs deeply, and she can detect the regret in it. “ I’m sorry, Claire. I really am. What you want me to be, a dad to you… I just can’t be that. Not right now.”
She nods, accepting his confession with disappointment that weighs heavily on her.
“Well,” She begins, changing the subject a little, “I moved to California. I’m going back home at the end of the weekend. So I’m staying here for two days, to help you. Because, quite honestly, you need it.”
She says it all with confidence, determination. She’s not asking, she’s stating.
He doesn’t try to contradict her.
***
The weekend is over far too soon, but she hopes she made some progress.
It’s hard to get him to smile, which is understandable, considering the situation he’s put himself in these past few months. But she’s tried, because she just can’t stand it when people frown more than they smile, and she’s proud to say that she’s succeeded a couple of times.
He’s only smiled twice the entire weekend. Once, when she remarked that his beard was grotesque and ordered him to shave it, and another time, when he asked her why she cared so much and she replied that since he was her father, it was her job to care.
Those smiles were only half of the smiles he used to show, but they’re there, nonetheless.
That’s more than enough.
***
When she arrives at the airport back in California, her father is there, silent, but his eyes questioning.
She says nothing either, but smiles, and hugs him.
***
She's barely in her room that night when her cell phone rings.
“I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“Yeah, I did, thanks. And you? You stay away from the alcohol?”
He sighs, but it’s not an exasperated one. “Yeah. You made sure of that.”
“Good.” She can tell he’s secretly grateful for her interference.
He’s quiet for a second, then: “Are you all right, Claire?”
“Are you?”
She waits a while, and she's close to thinking that their phone call was disconnected.
“Yeah." He finally says.
She smiles. “Then, yeah. I’m fine.”
fin.
Rating: PG (K+)
Word Count: 4,116
Status: Complete
Fandom: Heroes
Genre(s): Drama
Spoilers: up to 2x08 "Four Months Ago"
Pairings/Characters: Nathan, Claire, Peter, HRG, Heidi, Angela
Summary: Both Nathan and Claire suffer through the aftermath of the event at Kirby Plaza, with Claire stepping into Nathan's life to stop him from losing all control.
A/N: My 1st Heroes fic! Also, Claire does realize she has not very appropriate feelings for Peter, but since neither she nor Peter acts on it, I don't consider this to also be a Peter/Claire fic.
And Everything Changes
It takes her an entire week to even try to accept that they’re dead.
She hasn’t cried since; she thinks maybe the shock at what transpired has not gone away just yet. Or maybe some part of her is still in denial. Or maybe it’s a mixture of both, if that’s even possible.
That night at Kirby Plaza invades her dreams; in her slumber she relives it all: her pointing the gun at Peter, her face screwed up as despair takes over her; Nathan arriving just in time, lowering her gun down gently (You were right, Claire. The future is not written in stone.); Peter and Nathan zooming up into the sky; the flash of light bursting across the sky, followed by a silence that’s much too long.
It’s a harsh reminder every time she wakes up, a reminder that they’re not coming back, they’re never coming back, because they couldn’t have survived that (Peter has her ability of regeneration, so she’s not too sure about his fate, but he hasn’t been found, and besides, she gave up hoping a few days ago), and that realization just makes her feel more and more empty inside.
But yes, her biological father and uncle are gone, perhaps gone forever, and while she knows it will take probably forever as well to not feel so lost because of it, she guesses she is on the way to making some progress.
That is, until she gets the phone call.
***
She and her family are temporarily living with her grandmother in Dallas until her parents find a new house, since their old one is now pretty much non-existent due to Ted Sprague’s radioactive disaster.
She lost everything in that fire, every last trace that showed who she was, all the memories in that house growing up… but most of what she lost were material things, tangible objects, and while she should still feel much more upset at this than she currently was, she was not. She can’t really bring herself to think about that now, for the loss of Peter and Nathan is all she can think about, and it’s that sort of grief that incessantly blinds her.
She knows her father notices her pain, even though she is able to convince her mom, Lyle, and grandmother with smiles that she’s perfectly fine. Sometimes while eating dinner or sitting on the couch she’ll look up and see him looking at her, studying her, his blue eyes crinkling in concern behind his glasses. But he never says anything, and she suspects he does this because he feels she needs some time on her own to think about what happened, to think about what she’s lost and how she’s going to adjust. He knows her all too well.
After dinner she retreats to one of the guest bedrooms which currently serves as her own, and lies down on the bed, a long sigh escaping her lips.
The ring of her cell phone makes her jump, and she digs into the pocket of her jeans, pulling it out and quickly answering it.
“Hello?”
“Claire?”
She sits up in shock at the sound of Heidi’s voice.
When she visited Nathan’s home for the first time, Heidi was really the one, besides Peter, that was warm to her, that made her feel a little more comfortable with each passing day, and even though it wasn’t often that she had the chance to speak to Heidi, her good opinion of her was already formed when Heidi had greeted her for the first time with a smile. Finding out your husband has an illegitimate daughter can’t really be pleasant at first, so Claire was grateful that Heidi attempted to be nice to her.
“Heidi?” She responds, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Yes,” Heidi continues, and Claire takes notice of her hesitation, her tone of voice that suggested something was not right, “I felt I had to tell you, Claire. My husband-- your father, he’s in the hospital. There’s been a sort of accident.”
Her breath quickens at these news, at the fact that Nathan‘s alive, but she doesn’t take notice, not now. “ Is he okay? I mean, is it serious?”
“He’s badly burned, Claire.” Heidi says, a tightness suddenly appearing in her voice, and Claire can tell she’s trying hard to hold back the tears. “ He’ll never be the same.”
Claire doesn’t quite know how to respond, the shock is too much. She has the strong urge to ask about Peter, but something tells her it’s not the right time.
After a moment, she says, “I’ll come see him immediately.”
Heidi gives her the name of the hospital where Nathan’s at, along with the room number, and Claire jots it down with a shaking hand.
“Okay, I got it.”
“Now, I’m sure Angela didn’t want me telling you this just yet, but I felt that you needed to know.”
Her heart goes out to Heidi. “Thanks, Heidi.”
“You’re welcome, Claire. Take care of yourself.”
“You too. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
Nearly a minute after Heidi hung up she finally hangs up the phone, her eyes never leaving the paper she’s clutching in her hands.
***
She approaches her father at the kitchen counter. Her mom, Lyle, and grandmother had already gone to sleep, and the house was quiet.
“Dad?”
He turns to look at her, and his face quickly takes on concern as he takes in her pale face.
“Claire? Is something wrong?”
She doesn’t reply, just merely hands the paper to him, and when he reads it, he looks up at her in confusion.
“Heidi, Nathan’s wife, called me earlier.” She explains. “Nathan’s alive. He’s in the hospital. She says he’s burned real bad.”
Her father studies her for a few seconds, then says, “You want to see him.”
“Yes, dad. I really do.”
After a few more seconds of silence, he nods, bringing his hand up to touch a side of her face. “Okay, Claire-bear. We’ll go.”
She moves forward and hugs him, grateful that he understands. “Thanks, dad.”
He hugs her back, tightly, then withdraws from the embrace and stands up, smiling. “Now, how about some ice cream?”
She smiles.
***
On the airplane she is quiet most of the time, staring out of the window at the sky.
It’s only a few minutes afterward of doing this that she’s reminded of Peter and Nathan disappearing into the sky, this very sky, and she looks away, almost hastily.
Her father seems to sense her discomfort, for he puts his hand over hers to reassure her.
When they finally arrive at the hospital, she starts to shake, which she knows is not due to the strong air-conditioning.
Upon reaching the room where Nathan is, she sees Angela standing outside of it, almost like she has been waiting for them.
Her father’s voice makes her jump slightly. “I’ll be out here, Claire-bear.”
She nods at him, and approaches Angela, meeting her steely gaze, but Angela says nothing, and to her surprise, moves out of her way. She can tell by Angela’s face that she is not particularly glad to see her. But Claire can’t honestly think of a time when Angela was ever glad to see her, so she’s not that offended.
She passes by Angela, stepping softly into the room, and after a little over a week, she sees Nathan.
She tries hard to hold in her gasp at the sight before her. Badly burned was right, she realizes.
One side of his body is fine, but the other side…if you looked at him from that side he’d be completely unrecognizable to you, no matter how long you’ve known him.
They could try to fix him, but it probably wouldn’t make much of a difference. He’ll always be disfigured now.
Nathan doesn’t know she’s there: his eyes are closed. And she thinks that is probably for the best.
If Nathan looks like this, then Peter…
She can’t bring herself to finish that thought.
Footsteps behind her make her look around, and it’s Angela, her face set in a tight, almost indifferent mask.
“Peter?” She inquires quietly, but she already knows the truth in her mind, in her heart.
Angela doesn't even look at her. “He’s gone. We’re going to have to accept that now.”
She nearly flinches at Angela’s clipped voice.
She looks back at Nathan. Their voices have not disturbed him.
A few seconds of awkward silence go by, and she doesn’t think she can stand being here any longer.
Without a word to Angela, she leaves the room, and her father’s there, wasting no time putting an arm around her as they walk on down the hallway.
It’s only when they exit the hospital that she begins to cry, her father’s arms being her only consolation.
***
Four months has passed since that night at Kirby Plaza, and she’s still trying to adjust to her new life.
She and her family moved to California, and she never felt more alone in her life.
A few weeks ago she had found Nathan’s cell phone number on a slip of paper in her purse; it had been there for months but she had completely forgot about it. It was then that she remembered when he gave it to her when she stayed at his house for a while (‘If you ever need me.’), and realizing that she did need him, she had been calling him ever since.
At first, she could tell in his voice that he couldn’t understand why she was calling him, and it hurt, for that was not exactly the greeting she wanted to receive. But she continues to call him, sometimes five times a week, and he doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance.
Her mom, Lyle, not even her dad, know that she’s calling him, and she prefers it that way.
She goes into her bedroom, getting ready for bed, when that urge to call him comes again, and within seconds he’s on the line.
“Claire.”
She hears his impatient sigh, and she wonders why, if she bothers him so much, that he never just refuses to answer her calls.
She struggles for something to say. When she calls him, she’s always at a loss as to what to say, yet she still calls him. And honestly, she doesn’t really understand why.
“Why do you do this?”
His question is not cruel, but weary. It stings just as much, though.
“I just need someone to talk to.”
She’s told him that a thousand times.
“You have a family, Claire. Go talk to them.”
Her heart sinks. “ But you’re my family too.”
He sighs again.
“I’m your daughter,” She adds quietly. “Why do you keep pushing everyone who cares about you away?”
His end of the line is silent for a few seconds, yet it feels more like an eternity.
“I’m sorry.” He finally says, simply and calmly.
The click resounds loud in her ear.
***
She misses Peter. Her wounds never last physically, yet her emotional ones seem to last a lot longer than normal. She wonders if it’s possible that her ache over the loss of him will ever go away.
***
Another week goes by, filled with more phone calls to Nathan that end much too soon.
She knows he hurts. She knows the guilt he feels over Peter’s… disappearance. She can’t bring herself to think ‘death’, because that would mean that she’s fully accepted the idea that Peter’s dead, and she doesn’t want to do that, she can’t. Not yet.
Peter’s gone, but Nathan’s alive in New York, spiraling deeper and deeper into depression. Pretty soon, if he’s not careful, he’ll be gone too, in death.
Knowing that is what makes her decision.
***
Her father doesn’t ask questions, just gets her the plane ticket she needs and hands her a credit card to use for emergencies, along with some cash.
No matter how many unpleasant secrets she‘s found out about him, she’s still so grateful, every day, that he’s her father.
***
She found out from Angela (she contacted her as a last resort) where Nathan was.
She is surprised to find that he doesn’t live with his wife and sons anymore. She had known about him resigning from Congress, but she didn’t know any more details than that.
Strangely enough, she’s not surprised when she learns that Nathan has been staying in Peter’s apartment for the past four months, ever since he was released from the hospital.
In a sad way, it makes sense to her.
***
She climbs the steps to the floor where Peter’s apartment is, feeling more nervous with each step she takes.
When she reaches the door, she decides to knock first, even though she knows where the key is. Peter had told her once where it was, a couple of days after staying at Nathan’s house.
“You’re family,” He had said. “It’s only right you know, if there’s an emergency, or if you just need me or something.”
She could still picture his smile, how his deep brown eyes lit up, and she feels her chest tighten with something that can’t be mistaken for anything else but despair.
She raises a hand and knocks on the door. When there’s no movement from inside, she knocks again.
Nothing.
Maybe he avoids opening the door at all.
She stoops down and reaches under the welcome mat for the key. She unlocks the door and opens it slowly.
She had never seen the inside of Peter’s apartment before, but she guesses that it must be the same way it was before, when Peter was still here. The only difference is that quite a lot of empty beer and whiskey bottles littered the floor, some abandoned on the kitchen table and other surfaces as well.
She knows for a fact they’re Nathan’s. Of course. There were many times during their phone calls that she heard loud talking in the background, along with faint music and the sound of glass meeting a hard surface. So he sometimes went to bars, then sometimes drank here. But by the amount of bottles here she’s beginning to assume that he drinks here more often than at bars.
She wanders around the apartment, careful not to look too long at any of Peter’s belongings, and comes to the conclusion that Nathan’s not here.
So she has no choice but to wait.
***
She preoccupies herself by cleaning, dumping all the bottles in the trash. But after a while, when that’s all done, she finds herself walking into the living room, taking in all the proof that Peter had once been here, that he had once existed.
‘He does exist,’ She reminds herself. ‘He still exists.’
But she knows that defensive thought is useless.
She studies everything: his movie collection, his CD collection, the books lying haphazardly on the TV and coffee table. She even takes notice of a shirt on the floor, along with a pair of worn socks a few feet away.
Her eyes suddenly come to rest on a box that she didn’t take notice of when she first came in. She moves towards it, and realizes they’re full of pictures, some framed, some simply in piles.
She reaches for the first framed picture she sees at the top, and pulls back sharply after something jabbed at her finger, cutting it. It wasn’t a bad cut, and she feels it close and heal as she reaches for the framed picture again, this time more carefully. She holds it up and sees what had cut her. The glass frame was broken; shards of glass spread all over the picture of Nathan and Peter smiling in tuxedos. It was the same picture she saw when she visited Nathan’s house for the first time, learning that Peter was her uncle. Seeing this picture again right now does not comfort her very much.
She picks each piece of glass off the picture and throws them in the trash. She puts the framed picture back in the box and reaches for another one, and pretty soon she’s looking through the whole box.
It’s only when she reaches a picture of her and Peter smiling together, and realizing when and where it was taken, does she begin to cry.
The party is nice, very formal, with important people whose names she probably should know but doesn’t. It’s all to help Nathan’s campaign, and for him, she acts cordial with all those who greet her. She hasn’t been revealed as Nathan’s illegitimate daughter yet ( Nathan promised to do that after the election), so she poses as Peter’s date, if the question of her appearance comes up. Nathan is speaking with people, with Heidi by his side, while Angela does the same at another corner of the room.
She’s been standing in the same corner for the past fifteen minutes; Peter did his best to not leave her alone and neglected, but he kept being called over by Nathan to be introduced as Nathan’s brother, Peter, again and again.
She wonders why she even tried this, why she didn’t just stay in her room until it was over. After another minute or so, she tires of this idle act, and leaves the room, knowing nobody will really notice. She goes upstairs to the room she’s staying in, sitting on the bed. She reaches for her cell phone on the bedside table, thinking about calling her father, when a knock on the door stops her.
“Come in,” She says.
The door opens and Peter steps in, a little off-balance, she notices.
“Are you drunk?” She asks, grinning from ear to ear.
He approaches her, slumping down next to her on the bed. “Just a little bit.”
She understands why he would get drunk right now, though. All he’s been worrying about is the possibility that he’s the exploding man, and it’s only normal that he wanted to calm down for a night with copious amounts of wine.
He looks at her, grinning. “Nathan told me to leave the room for a while because it was starting to show.”
She laughs.
“What about you?” He asks, putting on a serious face the best he can, “ There’s wine available everywhere downstairs. Don’t tell me a seventeen year old doesn’t want to steal some and secretly get drunk.”
She shakes her head, a mock frown upon her lips, “ I can’t. Regeneration prevents me from getting drunk.”
His eyes widen in shock.
“Trust me, I’ve tried.” She adds.
He stares at her for a moment. “That really sucks.”
She sighs. “Yeah.”
They’re quiet for a few seconds, then he says, “Are you okay? You left the room a little quick.”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… hard to adjust to this. They don’t even know who I really am yet.”
He smiles at her. “When the election is over, they’ll know. Nathan will tell the truth.”
She smiles back.
He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but his lips linger there a little too long, which she knows he didn’t mean to have happen. It’s just a comforting gesture; his inebriated state made him make it last longer than it was supposed to.
And when he pulls back and smiles, she can tell she’s the only one who’s noticed.
And after he leaves the room, she feels sick, because she knows the truth. She liked the feeling of it, far too much.
Her silent sobs seem to never die down as she looks down at the picture, as she mourns over the loss of someone who mattered so much to her, much more than she ever realized.
She knows the truth now. She was in love with Peter. There’s no denying it, she can’t anymore, no matter how sick it is.
Her display of grief had prevented her from noticing that someone had entered the apartment, and she has no idea how long Nathan has been standing there when she finally looks up and sees him.
She looks at him through blurry eyes, and he says absolutely nothing.
But she can see in his eyes that he knows the truth too.
***
They sit silently at the kitchen table, her at one end and him at the other. They didn’t deliberately plan that, but it’s still something she takes notice of with a slight sadness. Even when they’re in the same room together they’re so distant from each other.
He looks nothing like the Nathan she used to know. A dark, thick beard coats his face, and his eyes have a darkness in them she’s never seen before. She can smell the whiskey on him from where she sits at her end of the table.
The miracle is that there are no burns anywhere on him. He’s fully recovered physically. How that’s possible she doesn’t know; she remembers how he looked when she saw him in the hospital. But she doesn’t ask, because it would just be a painful reminder of what happened to Peter. And she would rather avoid that remembrance, for both his and her sakes.
“Claire,” He finally says, and she looks quickly up at him, a little startled, “Why are you here? You should go back to your family.”
She stares at him. “I’ve told you before, you’re my family too.”
He says nothing.
She continues. “You can’t keep doing this, Nathan. Everything: your family, your goals, your life… you’re letting it all go.”
“It’s my life, Claire. Not yours.”
She sighs, exasperated. “Well, what about Heidi? Your sons? They need you. Why aren’t you there for them?”
His face tightens. “That’s none of your business.”
She looks down at the table. “ I’m sorry. But you have to know, what happened to Peter was not your fault. He would have exploded anyway. If you hadn’t taken him away from Kirby Plaza, he would have killed millions. You did him a favor.”
He says nothing, and she becomes frustrated. “ You’re being really selfish right now, Nathan. You’re not the only one who misses Peter.”
His eyes flash in defiance. “ I know that, Claire, God.”
She waits a few seconds, calming herself. “Peter was my hero. Because of him, I’m alive today. I miss him a lot too.”
She can’t carry on anymore, and she looks down again at the table so Nathan won’t see the tears filling her eyes.
He sighs deeply, and she can detect the regret in it. “ I’m sorry, Claire. I really am. What you want me to be, a dad to you… I just can’t be that. Not right now.”
She nods, accepting his confession with disappointment that weighs heavily on her.
“Well,” She begins, changing the subject a little, “I moved to California. I’m going back home at the end of the weekend. So I’m staying here for two days, to help you. Because, quite honestly, you need it.”
She says it all with confidence, determination. She’s not asking, she’s stating.
He doesn’t try to contradict her.
***
The weekend is over far too soon, but she hopes she made some progress.
It’s hard to get him to smile, which is understandable, considering the situation he’s put himself in these past few months. But she’s tried, because she just can’t stand it when people frown more than they smile, and she’s proud to say that she’s succeeded a couple of times.
He’s only smiled twice the entire weekend. Once, when she remarked that his beard was grotesque and ordered him to shave it, and another time, when he asked her why she cared so much and she replied that since he was her father, it was her job to care.
Those smiles were only half of the smiles he used to show, but they’re there, nonetheless.
That’s more than enough.
***
When she arrives at the airport back in California, her father is there, silent, but his eyes questioning.
She says nothing either, but smiles, and hugs him.
***
She's barely in her room that night when her cell phone rings.
“I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“Yeah, I did, thanks. And you? You stay away from the alcohol?”
He sighs, but it’s not an exasperated one. “Yeah. You made sure of that.”
“Good.” She can tell he’s secretly grateful for her interference.
He’s quiet for a second, then: “Are you all right, Claire?”
“Are you?”
She waits a while, and she's close to thinking that their phone call was disconnected.
“Yeah." He finally says.
She smiles. “Then, yeah. I’m fine.”
fin.