He Was My Hero- Episode 10
He Was My Hero
Episode 10
The first time Claire had ever gone to the beach, was when she’d been on a family vacation with her parents and Lyle. She'd been eight, and remembered how fascinated Lyle had been to see the ocean. She, on the other hand, hadn't really given it much thought. Even now, as she stared out on to the beach at the Hampton's she couldn't make herself less excited.
It was windy and cold but, worst of all was that she'd had to bear hearing Caitlin's accent the whole drive to the mansion they were staying at. Heidi had fuelled her, asking her questions about her relationship with Peter, and asking her about life in Ireland, how her and Peter had met. It would have been fine, if she hadn't had such an annoying voice, thought Claire.
Every so often Peter would look at her, and they'd make eye contact, but Claire would turn and kiss Deacon. His lips were so different than Peter’s; she didn't know if that was good though. The kissing was enjoyable, but the texture of how his lips felt in comparison to Peter's was completely different, they were more rugged, used, abused. Peter's felt like he really took care of them, but then again she laughed when she thought about it, because for a guy, Peter was pretty girlie.
"What's so funny?" asked Deacon between their kisses, but Claire only shook her head. She didn't know how to tell him that she thought Peter's lips were girly without him thinking something strange about it. It was already hard enough that she'd had to explain that he couldn't tell Heidi that he knew that Peter was her uncle; it would complicate things, not that they weren't already complicated to begin with.
"Do they have any Irish Pubs here?" the clear, accented voice from Caitlin rang loudly in Claire's ears, over and over again like an echo.
Irish Pubs? Claire didn't know whether to roll her eyes and scoff, or just break out into giggles. How dense was she? Claire knew she wasn't remotely jealous of her but she still couldn't help but feel some type of anger and aggression towards Caitlin. She knew it was probably just her annoying accent, but every time she inched closer to Peter, or moved her hand deeper into his lap - well, it just made something click inside of her, like a little bomb waiting to go off.
When Claire noticed that Peter's own hand was moving into Caitlin's, the air in her lungs began to shrink and she felt herself slump back into the porch swing and close her eyes as everything around her began to disappear.
...
"Maybe she's dead."
There it was, that annoying voice above her that made her insides twirl and boil with frustration. Dead? She certainly wasn't dead...was she?
Claire gingerly opened her eyes to look around her. She was lying on the sand with Deacon holding her hand, and Peter was looking on, half worried, half relieved.
She propped herself up on her elbows, and really tried not to glare at Caitlin, "I'm not dead."
The Irish girl merely shrugged and pulled up Peter to her, "Love, why don't we go into town and try to find an Irish pub?" She questioned, with what she thought was a seductive smile, "That's where we first met, remember?"
If Deacon hadn't been next to her, and Peter hadn't cared about Caitlin's well being, Claire would have strangled her right there. There was just something so unattractive about the way she spoke and made facial expressions, she couldn't stand it.
"But, Caitlin...Claire just fainted, and I don't think here are any Irish pubs in town honey," he cooed back and gingerly caressed her cheek, "We should make sure Claire is safe first, don't you think?"
Claire knew she was being careful, especially in front of Peter. Because of course, she was his angel, his love, his - whatever. But Claire could tell, she could see that Caitlin wanted to sigh and roll her eyes more than anything, and she was sighing again because she, Claire, was coming first to Peter.
"Just go, all I need is Deacon anyway," she smiled up to him, with a fake love-filled face.
For a second Peter frowned, and looked hurt, but he regained his composure and scoffed, "I'm sorry?"
Claire cocked her head to the side and turned to Peter with a sweet smile, "I said that all I need is Deacon."
He shrugged indifferently, "Whatever, it's not like it really mattered."
That hurt. She didn't know whether he meant it or not, but she knew that his words had hit her hard and her chest had exploded, as if her bones had disintegrated into dust, until she was hollow inside, "Good! Because, I didn't want you to care. All I need is Deacon, he's perfect."
Peter scoffed and looked at Caitlin, "Well Caitlin is foreign, beat that!"
Claire crossed her arms, and frowned, completely livid with Peter, "Well you know what? Why don’t you take your annoying girlfriend and blow up or something? Except this time, stay dead."
Peter huffed, "Well - Caitlin's better in bed!"
"Uh…No, I'm pretty sure that no one is better than Deacon. He can do things no other man can."
"Well - Caitlin is awesome in bed."
Claire snickered, "Whore."
He wasn't about to let Claire badmouth Caitlin though, "Yeah, coming from the sixteen year old who lost her virginity to-"
Before Peter was able to finish his sentence Claire had jumped on him and started pounding at his chest, even though she knew she'd never be able to cause him any permanent damage. She focused all her frustration and anger into her fists, until before she knew it; blood was seeping through Peter's mouth and nose.
A few seconds later, Deacon reacted and pulled Claire off of him. For a tiny person, he had to admit she was very strong and violent when she got angry. He could even see a small vain pulsing in her forehead.
Deacon looked over at Caitlin and noticed their faces were saying the same thing: what the fuck was going on?
Claire struggled in Deacon's arms, but he didn't let her go. She felt her face get hot with tears of anger and frustration, "I hate you, Peter Petrelli."
‘How could you say that about me?’ ran through her mind.
His face was stoic and unemotional as he grabbed one of Caitlin's hands and turned around, but not before having his own say, "I don't care."
When they were so far away that Claire couldn't make out Caitlin's voice anymore, Deacon tugged on her arm, "So, what was that about?"
She merely rolled her eyes and let the crisp, salty air fill her lungs, before exhaling and waving Deacon off. He wasn't really anyone to ask for explanations or some type of translation of what they had been discussing about. All he was for her was some guy she was dating. If she really wanted to be honest with herself, he didn't interest her that much, other than his good looks he really didn't have anything going for him.
Claire put a hand through her hair to shake the sand off and stood up, still unwilling to let go of any information for Deacon. He was just another nice accessory that she'd gotten from New York, nothing else.
Looking over to the beach house, Claire noticed Heidi calling them and sighed, looking back over to Deacon, "That was nothing ok? Nothing."
Later
After what could only be explained as an uncomfortable lunch between everyone, Claire was the first to excuse herself from the table. She didn't think she'd be able to lie any more, and feared that at any moment she'd slip. It wasn't easy lying to everyone; she was starting to get confused with who knew what, when and where. Was she related to the Petrelli's? Who wasn't supposed to know? It was all starting to be a really big blur.
She dumped her plate into the sink, and looked at it, not really concentrating on it, but simply staring in far thought. What she wanted, what she really missed at that point, was the simplicity of what her life had been in Odessa. She really hadn't had to lie to everyone like she did now. She'd just been a cheerleader then and nothing more.
It had been simple then, back when her dad had just been a paper salesman, and her mother had been obsessed with Mr. Muggles. If anyone had told her back where she'd be one year later, she would have never believed them.
Claire sighed and turned around, and was startled to see Peter standing in front of her with a huge smile, as if completely ignorant to the fact that they'd had an argument earlier.
"Hey...you ok?" he asked, raising his hand to touch her cheek slightly.
She backed away from him and frowned, "No, you totally called me a whore earlier."
Peter scoffed and couldn't help but let his smile widen, "I didn't call you a whore! You called Caitlin a whore. Plus, it was all just for fun, right?"
Claire crossed her arms and flicked her tongue to the top of her mouth, in utter awe at was Peter was telling her. All just some act? To cover up the fact that they secretly were - what? She couldn't even find a word to what they had shared, or what they were - other than uncle and niece.
"You know what? Whatever. God, I don’t even care, Peter, ok?"
She went to pass him, to leave the kitchen, but he held on to her elbow and pulled her back, as if magnetically, letting her hit his chest. She looked up at him, but pushed herself away again, determined not to give into his smile and pretend like nothing had happened.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's with you?" he asked, rubbing her arm with his thumb that was holding onto her.
He didn't take his eyes off her, and maybe that's what caused her to go silent. Something about being under his gaze, and him being completely focused on her, took away her ability to talk. His eyes held so much intensity as he looked at her that it was intimidating, and all she could really do was croak.
After a while though, the insecurity she felt melted away, and instead she looked back up at him and sighed, "Nothing, ok? Go back to that annoying mess of yours."
Peter frowned and stepped back for a second, gathering his thoughts, "Wait, are you - are you jealous?"
Claire didn't say anything to this, just scoffed and looked away. She wasn't sure what to say, because she felt as if part of her was jealous, but of what? She shouldn't have been jealous of Caitlin, of all people. Besides, she'd already had Peter, and there wasn't anything else she wanted from him but the sex, right?
"I'm not jealous, I just...I had a fight with Deacon, ok? It has nothing to do with you."
But in fact it did. She didn't know if she could tell him that she was upset because of him, she just didn't know why. It really didn't make any sense when she thought about it, because she didn't like him like that.
By the look on Peter's face, Claire knew he did not believe one ounce of her lie, but he was a gentleman, it wasn't like he was going to call her a liar, and for the moment, she really did like him. Deacon would have called her a liar right away and would have pestered her until she would have had to spill out what was really bothering her, but not Peter. He just let her be. It was a small sacrifice for him, but she was thankful.
"Ok, you want to talk about it?" he sort of whispered, still rubbing her arm softly, with a gentle look on his face as well.
It was so easy then. They were the only two in the kitchen, and everyone else was eating dinner. No one would see her kiss him, and no one would hear them. It just one, simple kiss.
She leaned in slowly and rested one of her hands on his chest, feeling the slow rhythm of his heart in her palm. Just feeling it brought some excitement to her that she didn't know how to explain. Slowly, she inched her face closer to his, and started feeling his breath upon her own.
When their lips met, it was erotic and hot at the same time, and Claire was sure she could feel something growing at the bulge of his pants. It's what she lived for in him, what she fed on. It was exactly what she wanted. But once she felt his long, thick, silky bang hit her own cheek, she moaned. There was just something about his bangs that turned her on to a degree where she wasn't in control anymore.
Peter's lips moved to her cheek, and he grabbed hold of her waist, just like they had always done. All she wanted then was to feel his lips glide to that part of her throat that drove her over the edge, and have the feel of him sucking on her neck in a vampire form. Soon his lips were on her neck and all she could really think about was what would come next, only in that moment, Peter stopped.
He let go of her completely and pulled away with his eyes wide open in shock, "We shouldn't be doing this. I'm with Caitlin, I like her, I can't do this."
Something inside Claire's chest deflated and she struggled not to form a sad frown. Why was his rejection affecting her so much now? It would have never bothered her much before, she would have just waved it off, and kept on pursuing him, but now she couldn't, and she didn't even know why.
She nodded her head and swallowed a lump that had grown in her throat, "You're right; I don't know what I was thinking."
Peter smirked and shrugged as well, at a loss of what to say back. Instead he brushed a finger across her cheek and kissed it gingerly, before exiting the kitchen. Claire hung on to the touch of his fingers on her cheek, and she didn't know why but it all made her feel so sad all of a sudden that tears brimmed her eyes, and a sob escaped her lips.
Two arms made their way around her waist, but right away they didn't feel like his. She knew what his felt like, slim, lean, light and soft. The arms that had made their way around her were Deacon's. They were more muscular, and built, and the texture of his hands was completely different.
She should have felt comforted and completely at ease, but she didn't. If anything, being in Deacon's arms only made her feel more uneasy and uncomfortable.
The small attraction that she'd had to him had evaporated, and instead all that seemed to fill her now was a disturbing obsession for Peter that she felt no control over.
Later
The sun was hot against her skin as she lay on her stomach, trying to forget the awkward night before. It completely baffled her how anything about Caitlin had really started irritating her all of a sudden. As much as Claire hated to admit it, the truth was she was jealous, plain and simple. Jealous that she had Peter instead of herself.
She could hear them giggling from afar, in the water and splashing around, which was precisely why she had decided to lay on her stomach, with her face facing the opposite direction. She didn't want to be forced to look at them and feel that bubble of hatred towards Caitlin grow inside her even more.
"You're going to get a sun burn lying so long like that," commented Heidi, setting her chair next to hers and sitting down.
Claire merely grunted, "I'm fine, I like this view better."
Though she couldn't see, Claire could imagine that Heidi was shaking her head and laughing at her silently.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous."
Claire sighed, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, I could be completely wrong of course. But I don't think it's a coincidence that Deacon decided to go home. It's ok to be honest with me, Claire. I know that you're shy about the age difference between you and Peter, but that's not really anything. And if I know Peter as well as I think I do, I'm willing to bet that he feels the same way about you. It's obvious when he looks at you."
Something inside Claire snapped and she sat up, "I sent Deacon home, because he broke up with me, ok? And I don't like Peter, he doesn't like me! He only likes that stupid redhead!"
It had gone silent, even the laughing from Peter and Caitlin had died down, and she saw that she had gained their attention as well.
Without anything else to say, but the feel of her cheeks getting red with embarrassment, Claire stood up and grabbed her things to leave the beach.
She left, leaving the awkward scene behind, for them to figure out.
From a far Peter sighed, and looked on to her in deep thought, but Caitlin was sure to break that concentration.
“Let’s go get a pint love”, she cooed, which to of course, he couldn’t help at laugh, but nod at the same time.
Well there goes, I know it feels like it's going slow now, but don't worry ;) it'll all get very interesting, very soon. Please feed my muse? (review!)