Tags: five years gone

Five Year Gone (Paire) Part 3/?

Title: Five Years Gone
Author: summer_cities (linking not working!) aka sarahliz1624 aka Sarah
Rating: Will most likely be M or MA, but for now it's T. There will be warning before an up in the rating and there will be a kiddie - friendly version.
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Summary: Five years after the bomb destroys New York, Peter and Claire have moved on with their lives, both believing that the other is dead. AU but they are still related. 
Spoilers: All of Season 1.
Reviews: Much appreciated. Positive AND Negative are lovely. Thank you!!
PS: You DON'T have to be a Heroes fan, or have even seen Heroes, to enjoy this. Just be sure to watch the trailer first.

You can also see the trailer here. I suggest you watch it first so as not to be confused and to get a taste of what is to come. Now, on with the fic!! 

Part One
Part Two

Claire Bennet
November 8, 2011

A/N: Thank you so much to all who’ve reviewed. It means so much to know that my work is appreciated. Please continue to do so, it’s how I make my writing better. I’m particularly proud of this chapter, so enjoy. Oh, and if you haven’t already, pop on over to youtube and watch the trailer for this fic. The link is in my profile. And now, without further adieu, here is part 3!
Sandra trudged slowly up the stairs of her apartment building, pulling her keys from her pocket as she approached the door. She was weary after a long day on her feet at the diner and wanted nothing more than to take a long, hot shower and to curl up in bed.
She stripped her clothes off on the way to the bathroom. Flicking on the light and the fan to the tiny room, Sandra entered quickly and with a purpose, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Reaching in between the curtain and the wall she turned the water on, testing the temperature with her hand before taking it out. She finished removing her clothing and tested the water one more time before climbing in to the shower.
Hot water cascaded down her back, and she let out a small moan.  She allowed herself to relax for a moment; it was a rare occurrence, Sandra letting her guard down. Although she led a seemingly ordinary life, every moment of it was spent glancing over her shoulder. Some would call it paranoia, but she knew that it prudent to be cautious. Her ability had turned her into a criminal in everyone’s eyes. It made her angry that she had to hide; it wasn’t like she’d asked to be different.
She stepped out of the shower and onto the pink bath rug, wrapping a soft white towel around her frame and glancing at the mirror over the sink. Straight brown hair fell where curly blonde had once laid, and she lifted a remorseful strand in front of her eyes. They had done everything they could to hide her identity, her father and she, and dying her hair had been the pivotal first step. The flattening iron was sitting on the sink, still plugged in from that morning. Sandra stared at her reflection, the way she did most every night, trying to figure out where she ended and her alias began.
“My name is Sandra.” she whispered. “Sandra. Claire Bennet is dead. Sandra.” Her image never faltered, but she liked to remind herself of who she truly was, especially after ‘creepy guy with the glasses’ visited. “He’s just a customer, and I’m just a waitress.”
Sandra entered her modest bedroom and sauntered over to the closet. On her way she pressed the power button to her television set. The president was on again, making a speech in New York City. Sandra paused at the closet door, doubling back and sitting on the edge of her bed.
“My fellow Americans, fellow New Yorkers, please let us take a moment to remember the men, women and children who were taken from us five years ago. Five bells for the five years of sorrow.”
Five bells resounded loudly.  She rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. The speech was pre-recorded. It had occurred hours ago, but she hadn’t heard it yet, and listened intently as her father spoke.
 “Sacrifice, is something that we’re all too familiar with. As you all know, I lost my brother to this enemy, five years ago today. We’ve all lost, we’ve all mourned, and we’ve all had to become soldiers, heroes, protecting one another from the gravest of dangers.  This is a battle that none of us wanted, one that we entered with a heavy heart. Knowing that the enemy was ourselves. We’ve won battles the world over not only against those that would do us harm…”
A tear streamed down Sandra’s face. The thought of Peter sent her façade crashing down. Her Uncle, her hero, her best friend, had been killed that day by Sylar, and it seemed that the world refused to let her forget it. She’d lost the only thing that was really important to her, and wished more than anything that she had the power to teleport herself back and start over. Hiro Nakamura could do it, maybe she should go looking for him again. ‘No,’ she told herself. ‘Nothing can change the way things are. Nothing can make this any different than it is. Your name is Sandra Butler. You’re a waitress in Midland, Texas. You need to let the past go.’
Nathan continued his speech. “But we do not forget the price that we’ve had to pay, the laws that we’ve had to pass to keep our citizens safe, to preserve our way of life. Our hope has always been that a great peace is on the horizon; that one day wounds would be healed and salvation could be found. And I’m here to tell you that that day is today. I’m proud to announce that we have developed a treatment, a method to reverse the genetic code. The first clinics will open next month across the world and soon, we can begin lifting restrictions. Cities and families can be reunited and we can finally live without fear. We’ve been vigilant, we have been uncompromising, and our efforts have paid off. The nightmare is over. The world is safe.”
Sandra hurled the remote at the television, effectively turning it off. A treatment? A cure? They weren’t sick, yet they were hunted as if they carried a deadly virus. Sandra grabbed the knife from her bedside drawer and drew it across the skin of her arm. The flesh healed immediately, as if it hadn’t ever been torn in the first place. At least she could still find solace in the intangible pain she was able to inflict on herself. She dragged the blade again, deeper this time, so she could really feel the twinge that only sharp steel could provide. She carelessly threw the knife back in its drawer and watched her arm stitch itself up again.
There was a pain inside of her, an ache deep in her chest that made her want to carve her own heart out and lay it down on the bedside table. She’d tried that before, however, and all it managed to do was create a mess. It did nothing for the metaphysical knife stuck in her heart.
 Sandra finally gave in to the nagging voice in her head and rushed back to the closet, pulling a small wooden box off the top shelf and placing it on the bed, reclaiming her place next to it. Still wearing nothing but a towel she opened the lid carefully, as if it were a sacred tabernacle that could only be handled with the upmost care. She reached inside and gently lifted the items the box contained. Most were loose photographs of her parents and brother, her friends from high school, and of course the family pet, Mr. Muggles. Underneath was her sophomore yearbook, which she took out with great care. The binding was worn with corners turned and pages falling out.
Once all of the contents of the box had been removed, Sandra pulled out the false bottom to reveal a 5” x 8” silver frame. In it resided a picture of her biological father on his wedding day accompanied by his younger brother. Both wore tuxedoes, although Nathan’s jacket looked as if it had been discarded long ago, while his best man’s bow tie had been undone in a rather messy fashion. Both men had huge smiles on their faces, as if neither had a care in the world except enjoying the moment.  Sandra ran her thumb over the side of her Uncle’s face. She missed Peter. He had known her as no other could. Only here, in the confines of her room, would she admit to herself that he ever existed, but clutching this picture – the only one she had of him – made him feel closer to her.
Claire Bennet descended the stairs of her biological father’s mansion. She was still having some trouble getting used to the fact that she came from a wealthy family – the Bennets weren’t poor by any means, but they certainly weren’t this wealthy, and although every teenage girl secretly (or not so secretly) dreams of having the kind of wealth that came along with being a Petrelli, Claire never imagined that her real parents could be living the lifestyle that Nathan and his family did. Her hand rested gently on the banister as she took one step after another, savoring the sight of the extravagant foyer.
Claire was 16 years old and had dreamed of knowing her birth parents since she found out she was adopted. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family. Her father and mother had always been wonderful to her – in fact, she couldn’t imagine having grown up with two better parents. As for her brother, Lyle, well, he just happened to come with the package, so she put up with him, although she had to admit that her family wouldn’t have been complete without him. When her father, Noah, had told her that he’d found her biological parents, Claire couldn’t have been more thrilled, but the last thing she was expecting was the (most likely)future Congressman Nathan Petrelli to be on the other end of the phone the day she had called the number Noah had given her.
Now, just a month later, Claire was at the Petrelli Mansion for the first time, (at the request of her grandmother) so that she could meet the family before the election sent their lives into total chaos. Claire stopped on the eighth stair, surveying the area. It was then that she noticed a dark haired man sitting on a couch in the front parlor. It seemed he had been watching her for a moment, because when she looked into his eyes he tilted his head back slightly, as if to say hello. Either that or he knew he had been caught and was too afraid to look away. Claire gave him a small smile and glanced away, wondering who he could be.
“Claire,” Angela called. Claire looked to the bottom of the stairs, where her grandmother stood. “Your father would like to see you. He’s in his office.” Claire nodded politely, stealing one more peek at the handsome man before finishing her descent down the staircase and heading towards Nathan’s office.
Sandra remembered that day so clearly. It was the day that she and Peter had first met. She smiled through her tears, hugging the picture frame to her chest and allowing her flashback to continue playing in her head.
Claire knocked gently on the office door before poking her head in. “Your mom said you wanted to talk to me.” she said timidly. Nathan glanced up from his desk, a look of wonder on his face, as if he had never heard a young girl speak before.
“I did. I do. Come in, please.” he stuttered quickly, waving her in with his arm. Claire entered shyly, leaving the door ajar behind her. She wrung her hands together carefully, trying to anticipate what this man was about to say to his long, lost daughter. ‘How was your flight?’ seemed appropriate. Perhaps ‘how’s school?’ or ‘I’ll bet you’re not used to this weather.’ could be expected. For a man she’s only met for a moment before being whisked away by her grandmother to unpack, she felt that she could read him pretty well. He stood reluctantly, resting his fists upon the surface of his desk. He looked her straight in the eye (something she didn’t expect) before speaking. “This should have happened a long time ago under better circumstances.” he said.
Claire nodded and tried to focus on anything but the crazy hopes she had built up in her head. She had spent all day, not to mention the last few years, praying that this man would want her to be a part of his life, that he would want to love her as the daughter that she was, not as a mistake he should be ashamed of. She noticed that his shirt was pink; a bold choice, she thought, given his profession and the public scrutiny it entailed. Finally she decided to bring her own hopes down – after all, if she was going to get her heart broken, she might as well be responsible for it herself.”You know, you don’t have to do this,” she told him. “Pretend to be nice to me.” She threw a little anger into her voice, as if that would make it hurt a little less. Nathan shut his eyes and shook his head.
“I’m not pretending.”
Claire knew that there were tears welling up in her eyes and blinked furiously in a feeble attempt to get rid of them.
“Claire, most people, um… they think the worst of me and I’ve probably given them good reason to but I want to do better.” he explained, his hands resting on his hips. It should have been an offensive stance, she thought, but the way he hung his head it was as if he actually felt remorse, even shame. It surprised her. “I want to be there for you.” Claire’s heart fluttered. He did love her. He did want to be a part of her life and he wanted her to be a part of his. The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but it was quickly demolished as he finished his sentence. “But I can’t. Not now.”
Claire’s heart broke. She looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to dry the tears that she knew were seconds away from spilling. She took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. She nodded her head up and down in understanding. How could she ever expect to mean anything to him? After all, until a few days ago he hadn’t even known that she existed. He was running for Congress, he couldn’t deal with her right now, if he planned to deal with her at all. “Of course.” she whispered, avoiding eye contact the best she could.
“I’m sorry, but there are things happening right now that I can’t expect you to understand. I barely understand them myself.” he explained, not sounding at all sorry. ‘Why should he be?’ she rationalized. After all, it wasn’t like he was obligated to her. He had a family of his own and so did she. What could she possibly have been expecting of him? How could she have been so stupid?
Nathan rounded the desk, intent on finishing what he planned to say. It seemed like he had practiced this speech. Claire took another deep breath to steady herself – there would be time for tears later. She wanted Nathan Petrelli to see that she was strong; she was a Petrelli too. “I got into politics for the chance to do something good.” he continued. “I have a chance to help, to be a part of something big. but in order to do that I have to…”
“The election.” she cut him off. Claire could see where he was going and decided to head him off. “Can’t have some illegitimate daughter popping up and waving at the cameras.”
“I need to win.” he stated seriously. Claire could see the passion in his eyes. He wanted this badly, she could tell. Who was she to stand in the way of his dreams?
“You need me to leave.” Nathan nodded somberly. Whether or not he would be sad to see her go was something Claire truly couldn’t tell, but at this point she was too focused on not crying to try and decide.
“It’s just one week.”
“And then what?”
Nathan stood and approached her. He was different from every other father she had ever known. Her own father was warm and comforting, he always knew what to say to make her feel better. Zach’s father had been a blue collar man his entire life, but always had a jolly smile on his face. Nathan seemed more like some of the male teachers she had, a little cold and too serious for their own good. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “And then you come home to your family. Okay?”
Somehow the sentiment seemed less than genuine as he pulled her in to an embrace. It was like he knew something that she didn’t, and he was keeping it from her. Claire had never felt like such a child in her life as she did in that moment, praying for Daddy’s approval while being kept out of the loop.
Once Nathan pulled back she asked the question that was still floating in the room. “Where am I going to go?” He smiled and pushed a strand of hair over her shoulder.
“With Peter. He’s going to get you out of the city for a while.” he said. Claire furrowed her eyebrows.
“Who’s Peter?”
Nathan held up a finger and strode over to the door. “Hey, Pete.” he called. “Can you come in here a sec?”
A moment later the handsome man from the foyer emerged, a comforting smile on his face. Claire’s tension eased immediately, even though this man was still a total stranger. “Peter, this is Claire. She’s my daughter. Claire, this is my brother, uh… your uncle I guess… Peter.”
Both Peter and Claire were frozen for a moment, as if the wind had been knocked out of them and they were waiting for it to come back. So the spark between them before, when they’d caught each other’s gaze, had it been familial? Or was it, as they both feared, something more; a forbidden attraction that could never be addressed?
Peter broke the silence first. “It’s nice to meet you Claire. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Even though she knew nothing about him, something about Peter made Claire believe his promise. After all, she’s felt safer since he walked into the room than she had since she left Texas. Something told her that a week away with Uncle Peter wouldn’t be so bad.
Sandra smiled, thinking back to that fateful day. “If only we’d known what we were getting ourselves into.” she whispered to herself. “Maybe we could have changed it all.” Sandra gazed lovingly at the photograph one more time before returning it to its hiding place and crawling into bed. ‘I’m sorry, Peter.’ was the last thought that passed her mind before she drifted off to sleep.

Five Years Gone (Paire) Part 2/?

Title: Five Years Gone
Author: summer_cities (linking not working!) aka sarahliz1624 aka Sarah
Rating: Will most likely be M or MA, but for now it's T. There will be warning before an up in the rating and there will be a kiddie - friendly version.
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Summary: Five years after the bomb destroys New York, Peter and Claire have moved on with their lives, both believing that the other is dead. AU but they are still related. 
Spoilers: All of Season 1.
Reviews: Much appreciated. Positive AND Negative are lovely. Thank you!!
PS: You DON'T have to be a Heroes fan, or have even seen Heroes, to enjoy this. Just be sure to watch the trailer first.

You can also see the trailer here. I suggest you watch it first so as not to be confused and to get a taste of what is to come. Now, on with the fic!! 

Part One

Peter Petrelli
November 8, 2011

Loud music blared from the speakers at one end of the nightclub while scantily clad, barely legal girls danced on raised platforms throughout the room. Couches and comfortable chairs filled the space, all pointed towards the main stage, of course. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the room a sultry glow. Half naked waitresses waltzed around, taking orders from both the creepy guys who were just there for a good time and those more… serious customers. Men would order whatever they could think of for an opportunity to stare down a young woman’s bra. If there was one thing that the ‘Raven’ could say about its patrons it was that they were thirsty. To any visitor or passerby this place would look like nothing more than what it was: a pricey strip club where women were ogled at by twenty guys wishing for a piece of what they could never have. To the regulars it was paradise – a place where the proprietor was never around and they were free to do as they pleased.
To the owner, Peter Petrelli, it was hell. A prison designed for only him; punishment for his past transgressions.
Peter sat at the bar on the back side of the club, just as he did night after night, invisible to the world. He was preparing to watch the ‘main attraction’ take the stage; his girlfriend, Niki Sanders, was a dancer for him at the club and was by far the most popular woman he had there.
A voice blared out over the music. “And now, on the center stage gentlemen, please give it up for the main event, Jessica!”
He groaned at himself in disgust. Five years had passed, and in that time he had gone from a respectable position as a hospice nurse to little more than a pimp. He paid girls to dance on stage and take their clothes off. He’d even made his girlfriend a part of the show. Peter sighed. It made him angry.
More than that, it made him sad. His cold hard exterior never faltered, but inside he could still feel a small piece of his former self – the Peter Petrelli that no one had seen for a very long time. In five years everything had changed. Peter buried his face in his hand, rubbing the uneven texture of his scar with his fingers. It was funny; he barely noticed that it was there anymore. Niki liked it. She thought it made him look dignified. Peter thought it made him look old.
He was only 31. Five years were gone – and in that time he felt he had aged fifty.
Scanning the room quickly Peter noticed Hiro Nakamura sitting on the far right side. Peter growled under his breath. ‘If it hadn’t been for Hiro and his meddling, maybe none of this would have happened in the first place.’ he thought. Peter had half a mind to go over to him and tear his head off for coming back like this, but when he glanced back at the stage he knew that Niki had seen him too. He’d let her handle things. She’d promised that she would take care of everything.
“Right now we’re watching live footage of the President approaching Marine One for his trip to his home state, New York.” the announcer stated. Peter’s ears perked up and he turned his attention to the television. His brother, the President, was on the screen, approaching a helicopter on the White House lawn. He let out a dry chuckle at the irony of Nathan flying in a helicopter. Peter wondered if he found it to be a waste of time. Wouldn’t it be faster to just fly to New York himself? Although it was difficult to picture thousands of people looking on as the President of the United States yelled “Up, up, and away!” before propelling himself skyward.
The humor of the moment quickly dissipated as the screen changed to a picture of Gabriel “Sylar” Grey.
It had been five years since a nuclear bomb had wiped out half of New York City. That was the day Peter lost everything. Nathan, his own brother, had betrayed him, at the behest of their mother, his own kind were being hunted, considered ‘dangerous’ because of one lunatic; Niki’s son had even been killed in the blast, along with countless others.
Along with Claire.
It had been five years since the world had gone to hell, and everyone felt it necessary to commemorate the anniversary. It felt too celebratory for Peter’s taste, like attending a funeral for one person on the same day year after year. On the television, underneath video of the aftermath were the words ‘America Remembers’. Peter sighed. No one remembered better than he did.
Peter turned his head to watch as his girlfriend approached the bar, leaning up against the counter and resting one long leg on the barstool next to him. He knew she was aware of his company but chose to remain out of sight until he had the privacy in which to reappear.
“How were the receipts tonight, Marco?” she asked the bartender. The man poured two glasses of liquid and placed them both in front of the blonde. She picked one up and brought it to her lips.
“It was a good night, ma’am.” he replied.
“Good.” Niki murmured before taking a sip. She kept quiet for a moment, feeling a pair of eyes watching her. She slid the other glass down the bar, sitting down as Peter materialized. “You don’t have to be here.” she told him. Peter glared at her with his stony eyes, lifting his glass and downing the strong liquid. Peter had never been much of a drinker, but recent circumstances had changed that fact. “I told you that I can handle it.” she assured. Peter nodded towards the door.
“What’d he want?” he asked, an angry scowl on his face. The scar made him more menacing, he decided, which helped when there was an over zealous customer he needed to intimidate. He trusted Niki to take care of things for him. After all, he couldn’t risk too much exposure, but he couldn’t hide his curiosity as to why the short Japanese man had returned to him after all this time.
“What do you think?” she retorted, watching Hiro as he strode out the door. “He’s still trying to stop an exploding man.”
“Sylar’s dead.” he snapped.
“I sent him off to Bennet, just let him deal.” Peter’s head shot up in her direction at the sound of that name. Claire’s father, Noah, had trusted him to keep his daughter safe, and now she was gone, just like everyone else in the city. Claire was standing next to Peter when the bomb went off. He knew that Claire could regenerate – that was her curse – but there was no way she could have survived incineration. There wouldn’t have been anything left to regenerate.
Peter closed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to physically shake his thoughts away. It had been five years, there was no use dwelling on the past. Although it seemed that was what everyone else was going to do. He looked back to the T.V. screen. Niki followed his gaze, but as soon as Sylar’s face appeared she looked away with a pained expression. She couldn’t stand to stare at the face of the man who had killed her little boy. Peter understood this. He took the last swig of his drink as he stood, using his telekinesis – one of his many abilities – to unplug the distasteful broadcast. Niki threw him a thankful look before standing slowly and heading back to her dressing room without another word. Peter watched her drift away, and as soon as she was out of sight he disappeared once again.
Five years was certainly a long time, but it didn’t make the pain of losing the one you loved any less raw.
Part Three

Five Years Gone (Paire) Part 1/?

Title: Five Years Gone
Author: summer_cities aka sarahliz1624 aka Sarah
Rating: Will most likely be M or MA, but for now it's T. There will be warning before an up in the rating and there will be a kiddie - friendly version.
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Summary: Five years after the bomb destroys New York, Peter and Claire have moved on with their lives, both believing that the other is dead. AU but they are still related. 
Spoilers: All of Season 1.
Reviews: Much appreciated. Positive AND Negative are lovely. Thank you!!
PS: You DON'T have to be a Heroes fan, or have even seen Heroes, to enjoy this. Just be sure to watch the trailer first.

You can also see the trailer here. I suggest you watch it first so as not to be confused and to get a taste of what is to come. Now, on with the fic!!



Five Years Gone


Claire Bennet
November 8, 2011

The Burnt Toast Café in Midland, Texas, was the home of many things; for starters there was the Blue Plate Special that people would travel across eight towns and three counties for. There was, of course, the fast and friendly service that regular customers had come to expect and appreciate from the staff. It also housed its very own tragedy; Charlie Andrews, a much loved waitress and local farmer’s daughter, had been brutally murdered there by Gabriel “Sylar” Grey. And last, but not least, it was the home and hiding place of one Claire Bennet, now known as Sandra Butler.
Men had always paid attention to Sandra. Having her ass grabbed at 3am by a drunken moron was not a rare occurrence for her, nor did it cause her any distress. After all, it happened nearly every night she took a shift. But she was tough. The young waitress had been known, on more than one occasion, to grab a man by the ear and drag him to the curb.
No one messed with her.
But who could blame them for trying? After all, Sandra was a beautiful girl. She had a slender figure that curved in all the right places, her long brown hair fell softly past her shoulders, not bothering to wave or coil on the way down, and her bright green eyes could catch a guy off-guard from across the room. Yes, Miss Butler was a knockout, to say the least, and not one man in town failed to notice (and neither did their wives).
But alas, it seemed that she only had eyes for one guy; Andy. A cook in the café, he had been drawn to her from the day that they met. He was tall, blonde and lanky, with a winning smile and a heart of gold. Andy was the all-American boy, and it seemed that Sandra had reluctantly fallen for him too. They were Midland’s golden couple; the school board even had a pool going on how long it would take for them to get hitched. It was even money on the following June.
As the head waitress of the Burnt Toast Café, Sandra was a busy girl, although that never prevented her from being one of the friendliest people you’d ever meet, and her grin never failed to bring some of Midland’s oldest and grumpiest residents back time and again for a slice of pie and a quick chat with the young woman. She always smiled and laughed, but didn’t say much. She was shy that way.
Except for with that one guy, the one that Andy liked to call ‘the creepy guy with the glasses’. He was usually in once every other week or so, even though no one knew who he was. Perhaps he was a traveling salesman, some had speculated, but no one could be sure. All anyone was sure of was that he always sat in Sandra’s section, he was always reading a copy of the “Midland Daily”, and she always lingered at his table just a little longer than the others.
“Now just holler at me if y’all need anything else, ok?” Sandra offered, setting two platters down in front of her customers at the bar. She beamed cheerfully as she backed away and skirted off in the direction of the kitchen. As she reached the door something caught her ear and she sashayed around the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools and staring up at the television set that was mounted on the wall behind the bar.
“Right now, we’re watching live footage of the President approaching Marine One for his trip to his home state, New York.” the announcer stated. President Nathan Petrelli was on screen, crossing the lawn in front of the White House with a smirk on his face, waving at the crowd. Sandra’s lip curled in disgust at this man, the President of the United States of America.
Even thinking about the man who had sent her and so many like her into hiding her made her ill. Lives had been destroyed, people killed, all because the world was afraid of the people who could do extraordinary things. Telepaths, the telekinetic, healers, empaths, all of them were being hunted. People with abilities were tracked, quarantined, sterilized, even jailed and murdered; all because of the man America called their commander.
 The anchor continued. “The White House promises a major policy shift during the…”  
“You know, Sandra,” A voice interrupted her concentration on the newscast, instead bringing her attention to the handsome young man leaning his hand on the back of her chair. “For a girl who’s supposed to hate the President, you sure do perk up whenever he’s on.” he indicated. Sandra had never noticed this; during her time in Midland she had never veiled her distaste for their leader, but Andy’s implication made her realize that watching him on television and skimming the paper for articles on him at every opportunity really didn’t help to enforce her standpoint.
“I just like to stay informed.” she responded quickly, staring back at him. Andy walked around to the other side, bending over the counter in her direction. “After all,” she quipped, “How can I have an opinion on him, or anything for that matter, without knowing all the facts?”
“Well just be careful,” Andy replied. “A guy could get jealous.”
“He’s old enough to be my father.” Sandra retorted distastefully, stealing one last glance at the screen before returning her full attention to the man in front of her. It was true. Nathan Petrelli was old enough to be her father. And she should know.
After all, he was.
The fact that she came from the same blood as that monster was nearly unfathomable. She remembered a time when she believed that there was good in him; a time when she believed that he could, and would, do the right thing. She knew she’d never forgive herself for being so naïve. She knew that the things that were happening in the world today disgusted her so much not only because of the pain that they caused, but because she could have done something to prevent them.
“Earth to Sandra; are you still here?” Andy waved his hand in front of her eyes, snapping her out of her trance.
“Sorry. I was just… never mind. What did you say?” she asked.
“That guy’s back. Sitting in your section again.” he notified her. “Want me to get Louise to take him?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. He’s harmless. Unlike some men I know.” she responded light-heartedly, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek before grabbing the full coffee pot on the counter and turning towards the table which seated ‘the creepy guy with the glasses’.
“Hello, sir.” she greeted cheerfully. “How are you today?” Taking the mug on the table and flipping it over, she poured him a cup of coffee, only taking her eyes off him for one second to make sure the cup didn’t overflow.
“I’m fine, thank you.” he responded pleasantly, not bothering to look up from his paper. “How are you?” he asked, perhaps a little too genuinely.
“Great, thanks.” Sandra walked around him, leaning precariously over the man’s shoulder, pretending point to something on the menu. “I missed you, Dad.” she whispered.
The president may have been her biological father, but this man was her Dad. The ‘creepy guy with the glasses was the man who’d raised her, the one who’d picked her up and rocked her when she cried at night, singing that lullaby she remembered to that day. This man was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, and kissed her knee to make it better when she fell off and scraped it. He was he man who had promised to protect her, no matter what it took. Petrelli may have been her blood, but this guy with the glasses was her family.
“I missed you too, Claire-Bear.” he replied, reaching over his shoulder and taking hold of her hand.
Sandra flinched at the sound of her real name, standing upright and rounding the table again, letting his fingers drop back to the table. “So, what’ll it be?” she asked, her professional persona back in place. After taking his order, she gracefully turned away and waltzed into the kitchen. Although no one noticed, the man’s eyes never left the back of the young woman’s head.
“So, what’s he having this time?” Andy asked, looking up from his grill and throwing a sly look in Sandra’s direction.
“French toast.” Sandra sang, leaning on the opened door to the kitchen. She smiled at her boyfriend and added, “Thank you, dear!” Andy laughed and returned to his work while his girlfriend turned back to the dining room.
The man with the glasses was reading his paper again, stealing glances at the waitress whenever he could. Sandra wiped down the counters and pretended to ignore him, just like she always did. The truth was, having him there made her feel safe. He watched over her. Sandra smiled. She prayed he would always be there. She needed him, after all.
Part Two