Dolor De Amor
It's always dangerous when I listen to Sia, it like, well, it causes me to write stuff like what's below. But her music is so beautiful, and it truly inspires me to write Peter'/Claire. So hope you guys like it! This is just the first part, if its worth continuing, let me know.
....
Dolor De Amor
Post Nathan’s Death
A few weeks after the funeral
As time passed, and the semester ran on, with everything that had happened recently, Claire threw herself into her school work full time. She felt a need to ignore everything that happened in the outside world. It was for purely selfish reasons, really.
Noah’s calls progressively slowed down from a few times a day, to a few a week, all of which she sent to voicemail, until she ultimately turned her phone off. It wasn’t that she hated her father, but she hated everything he did. It seemed as much as she tried to explain to him how it bothered her that he lied, it never worked, he never listened.
With Nathan gone, she’d thought she’d feel a need to get closer to the only dad she had left, but she didn’t. no words would ever truly express the resentment she felt towards him. It was a feeling that didn’t plan to leave any time soon, and as much as she had tried to express that, after Nathan’s funeral, he didn’t understand that either.
So its how it really began, her solitude, her complete detachment from everyone. The first person that really cut off contact with her, after her dad was Gretchen. She’d kept insisting that they try some type of romance between the both of them, but Claire had finally told her, she couldn’t. She cared about her, as a friend, and she’d been great as that. But the truth was, she couldn’t imagine anything beyond that.
Gretchen had transferred dorms again, quickly after Claire’s confession. She mourned the loss of a friend, but found the emptiness of the room soothing as well.
Her mom didn’t even call her as often anymore, not now that she had her boyfriend. He’d persuaded her to take some big trip with him to South America, where they had been now for a couple of months.
In a strangely twisted way, Claire was happy her mother was away. She was the one person, who she’d feel shame for pushing away in her current semi stoic state. Her mother, who’d always been everything Claire had ever needed, wouldn’t have understood- so it was perfect that she was there to see her.
There were days that went by ok, and she wouldn’t feel despair trickling down her, or like she didn’t have enough air. But there were those days, where climbing out of bed to get to class, just seemed like required too much energy. What she couldn’t pinpoint, was why she felt so bad. The feelings would hit her out of nowhere, too.
One moment she’d be fine, she would be able to manage a smile, and remembering Nathan wouldn’t bring her any tears, and then out of thin air, the thought that he was gone, made her want to shoot herself. She wanted to go to sleep, and wish she’d never wake up again.
There was this constant hole in her chest, when those moments rose, and she felt like the life was being pulled out of her, and everything seemed so pointless. She felt as if life itself couldn’t get worse. She’d scream into her bed sheets, and wake up with drenched pillows, full of tears. Some nights she didn’t remember ever crying, and it scared her.
Slowly, she felt as if she might be going crazy, because she’d never been that close to Nathan- she’d wished for it, but it had never really happened. They’d never truly formed a father-daughter bond, as strongly as she’d wanted, it was why all the despair she felt, truly surprised her.
Days blended together, until she’d completely lost track of time. Before she knew it, Christmas was right around the corner, and she had another voicemail from Noah, asking her to spend Christmas with him and Lyle, seeing as her mom would still be in South America with her boyfriend.
She had deleted the message, the thought of spending Christmas with her dad, truly repulsed her. Just remembering what he’d done, brought a full bought of emotions back, that she had worked hard to bottle away.
Claire had looked at her phone, and frowned, realizing there was a missed call and a voicemail, from a number she didn’t recognize. The voice was icy, and chilling, it belonged to Angela Petrelli. She was asking the same thing as her dad, to spend the holidays with her, and the Petrelli’s that were left. The prospect of company was just so- distant. She couldn’t fathom the idea of being close to someone else. Especially when it involved people who would most likely than not, bring subject of Nathan up.
And so it was, that she decided not to go to either of them. She couldn’t spend the holidays on campus, so she decided to rent the cheapest apartment she could find, nearest to her school, under an alias. The last thing she need was for her dad to show up at her door step unannounced.
She woke up, Christmas eve, feeling relief in the fact, that no one knew where she was, or where to find her. It was raining outside, making her smile for an odd reason. Usually she hated the rain, but it felt so perfect, that she couldn’t describe it.
After grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, she sat by the window, watching small droplets hit the window, with a tiny splash. She wanted to open the window, and take the shots of water herself, instead of watching them hit the glass. Something about how they hit with such power, even if it was small, made her want to take it instead. Claire wanted the water to drench her, to wash away the unpleasant feelings surging through her.
Out of no where, there was a knock at the door that made her burn herself with the hot chocolate. Claire got up, and set the mug on her table, trying to be silent as she walked over to the door. There wasn’t anyway it could be anyone who knew her, she’d been sure not to sign her name on the rental application.
But through the peephole, she proved herself wrong. On the other side of the door, drenched in water, from the rain, stood a broody looking Peter.
It had been so long since she’d thought about him, ever since the night of Nathan’s funeral. It actually amused her how things seemed to have changed around. She remembered that night vividly, as she’d consoled him, and had hoped he’d be able to cope. Now it was her that needed the concern, and help, not that she’d ask for it.
Seeing him there, only a couple feet away, it brought so many feelings back. She felt happy to see him, despite her anti-social state, and part of her wanted to eagerly invite him in, yet the other, the other didn’t want him to see how she’d become.
He made it difficult, when he gave a small laugh, with what looked to be a painful smile, and looked down at the ground, “I can see the shadow of your feet, Claire.”
Claire bit her lip, and unlocked the door, and opened it, revealing herself at last. She attempted her own smile, but knew it probably resembled more of a grimace than anything.
She studied Peter, as they weren’t saying anything. Even though he was smiling, she could see it was just a façade, if there was a way to show how awfully she, herself had been feeling lately, it stood in front of her. In a sum of words, Peter showed the stress, and the emotional beating on the outside, that she inwardly had been feeling.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to hide her discovery from herself. There wouldn’t be a point in confessing what she was going through to him, he looked like he was going through his own hell.
Peter blinked slowly, and visibly swallowed, as if he was mustering up the energy to respond, “My mom really wanted- we really wanted you to join us, for Christmas”, he finished off in a whisper.
He wasn’t looking at her anymore, rather, everything else on the ground but her. His eyes were distant, off in his own world, he looked near death.
She couldn’t do it. Just seeing his suffering, reminded her of Nathan again, and when Peter inhaled, she felt a raw ache, so potent it nearly knocked her out.
“I can’t- I’m, um, swamped with school stuff”, she lied.
His eyes ran back to hers, and she noticed they’d gotten slightly glossy, “Please, I can’t go back there without you. I-”
But he couldn’t finish, it was like the air had brought more pain inside him. Claire felt that ache again, breathing was painful for her too, she couldn’t take seeing Peter anymore, not when it reminded her of Nathan, and not when that brought all the pain back.
When she was about to say no, when that moment was so close, and the answer was a second away from her lips, she saw his nose flair. Peter inhaled again, and Claire felt the memories of Nathan rushing back like a movie in her head. She closed her eyes tightly, trying everything in her power to block it all out, but it didn’t work.
In front of her, Peter doubled over, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself, from a near-breakdown. She could see just how close he was from breaking down, and it tore her too. She could deal with herself being miserable, and having bouts of wanting to die, but she couldn’t deal with Peter in pain.
“Fine”, Claire heard herself saying, surprised at her response, “I’ll go.”
It would drain her, even possibly break her, but if it would help Peter, she’d do it. He might not have been a constant in her life, but he was someone Claire didn’t want to compromise being ok. If only one of them could be ok, it had to be him, always him.
…..
Christmas at the Petrelli mansion was awkward.
Heidi, Angela, the boys , and Peter were there, and though the boys were off in their own place, Angela and Heidi seemed to be bonding through their cooking. It would have left her and Peter to talk, and catch up, but it wasn’t that at all.
He seemed distant, even if he spoke to everyone evenly, and with a smile. Maybe it was that they couldn’t see how it was all fake, that he didn’t truly want to smile, or possibly even be there, she didn’t know. All she did know was that she didn’t want to, she only felt a sudden desire to go upstairs and scream into a pillow with all the power inside her. She felt the need to even jump off the top terrace, and hope she wouldn’t be able to regenerate back together.
The pain that ran through her felt worse and worse with every single second that passed by. It was a conundrum to her. With her eyes closed, she tried to breath evenly, and concentrate on a passage she’d visually memorized from a book she had read, anything- just not being there, and certainly not think about what she was feeling in her chest.
When it got to be too much, when she felt like it was tumbling her down, and that every single molecule in her body was withering in pain, right along with her, she stood up, trying to make it out, something else happened.
A few feet away from her Peter tripped, on one of Monty’s toys, as he himself had been trying to leave the room, and fell, making him pass out. That very second, Claire felt the pain of the hit- felt the blackness that consumed her eyesight, until she as well, fell unconscious.
....
Dolor De Amor
Post Nathan’s Death
A few weeks after the funeral
As time passed, and the semester ran on, with everything that had happened recently, Claire threw herself into her school work full time. She felt a need to ignore everything that happened in the outside world. It was for purely selfish reasons, really.
Noah’s calls progressively slowed down from a few times a day, to a few a week, all of which she sent to voicemail, until she ultimately turned her phone off. It wasn’t that she hated her father, but she hated everything he did. It seemed as much as she tried to explain to him how it bothered her that he lied, it never worked, he never listened.
With Nathan gone, she’d thought she’d feel a need to get closer to the only dad she had left, but she didn’t. no words would ever truly express the resentment she felt towards him. It was a feeling that didn’t plan to leave any time soon, and as much as she had tried to express that, after Nathan’s funeral, he didn’t understand that either.
So its how it really began, her solitude, her complete detachment from everyone. The first person that really cut off contact with her, after her dad was Gretchen. She’d kept insisting that they try some type of romance between the both of them, but Claire had finally told her, she couldn’t. She cared about her, as a friend, and she’d been great as that. But the truth was, she couldn’t imagine anything beyond that.
Gretchen had transferred dorms again, quickly after Claire’s confession. She mourned the loss of a friend, but found the emptiness of the room soothing as well.
Her mom didn’t even call her as often anymore, not now that she had her boyfriend. He’d persuaded her to take some big trip with him to South America, where they had been now for a couple of months.
In a strangely twisted way, Claire was happy her mother was away. She was the one person, who she’d feel shame for pushing away in her current semi stoic state. Her mother, who’d always been everything Claire had ever needed, wouldn’t have understood- so it was perfect that she was there to see her.
There were days that went by ok, and she wouldn’t feel despair trickling down her, or like she didn’t have enough air. But there were those days, where climbing out of bed to get to class, just seemed like required too much energy. What she couldn’t pinpoint, was why she felt so bad. The feelings would hit her out of nowhere, too.
One moment she’d be fine, she would be able to manage a smile, and remembering Nathan wouldn’t bring her any tears, and then out of thin air, the thought that he was gone, made her want to shoot herself. She wanted to go to sleep, and wish she’d never wake up again.
There was this constant hole in her chest, when those moments rose, and she felt like the life was being pulled out of her, and everything seemed so pointless. She felt as if life itself couldn’t get worse. She’d scream into her bed sheets, and wake up with drenched pillows, full of tears. Some nights she didn’t remember ever crying, and it scared her.
Slowly, she felt as if she might be going crazy, because she’d never been that close to Nathan- she’d wished for it, but it had never really happened. They’d never truly formed a father-daughter bond, as strongly as she’d wanted, it was why all the despair she felt, truly surprised her.
Days blended together, until she’d completely lost track of time. Before she knew it, Christmas was right around the corner, and she had another voicemail from Noah, asking her to spend Christmas with him and Lyle, seeing as her mom would still be in South America with her boyfriend.
She had deleted the message, the thought of spending Christmas with her dad, truly repulsed her. Just remembering what he’d done, brought a full bought of emotions back, that she had worked hard to bottle away.
Claire had looked at her phone, and frowned, realizing there was a missed call and a voicemail, from a number she didn’t recognize. The voice was icy, and chilling, it belonged to Angela Petrelli. She was asking the same thing as her dad, to spend the holidays with her, and the Petrelli’s that were left. The prospect of company was just so- distant. She couldn’t fathom the idea of being close to someone else. Especially when it involved people who would most likely than not, bring subject of Nathan up.
And so it was, that she decided not to go to either of them. She couldn’t spend the holidays on campus, so she decided to rent the cheapest apartment she could find, nearest to her school, under an alias. The last thing she need was for her dad to show up at her door step unannounced.
She woke up, Christmas eve, feeling relief in the fact, that no one knew where she was, or where to find her. It was raining outside, making her smile for an odd reason. Usually she hated the rain, but it felt so perfect, that she couldn’t describe it.
After grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, she sat by the window, watching small droplets hit the window, with a tiny splash. She wanted to open the window, and take the shots of water herself, instead of watching them hit the glass. Something about how they hit with such power, even if it was small, made her want to take it instead. Claire wanted the water to drench her, to wash away the unpleasant feelings surging through her.
Out of no where, there was a knock at the door that made her burn herself with the hot chocolate. Claire got up, and set the mug on her table, trying to be silent as she walked over to the door. There wasn’t anyway it could be anyone who knew her, she’d been sure not to sign her name on the rental application.
But through the peephole, she proved herself wrong. On the other side of the door, drenched in water, from the rain, stood a broody looking Peter.
It had been so long since she’d thought about him, ever since the night of Nathan’s funeral. It actually amused her how things seemed to have changed around. She remembered that night vividly, as she’d consoled him, and had hoped he’d be able to cope. Now it was her that needed the concern, and help, not that she’d ask for it.
Seeing him there, only a couple feet away, it brought so many feelings back. She felt happy to see him, despite her anti-social state, and part of her wanted to eagerly invite him in, yet the other, the other didn’t want him to see how she’d become.
He made it difficult, when he gave a small laugh, with what looked to be a painful smile, and looked down at the ground, “I can see the shadow of your feet, Claire.”
Claire bit her lip, and unlocked the door, and opened it, revealing herself at last. She attempted her own smile, but knew it probably resembled more of a grimace than anything.
She studied Peter, as they weren’t saying anything. Even though he was smiling, she could see it was just a façade, if there was a way to show how awfully she, herself had been feeling lately, it stood in front of her. In a sum of words, Peter showed the stress, and the emotional beating on the outside, that she inwardly had been feeling.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to hide her discovery from herself. There wouldn’t be a point in confessing what she was going through to him, he looked like he was going through his own hell.
Peter blinked slowly, and visibly swallowed, as if he was mustering up the energy to respond, “My mom really wanted- we really wanted you to join us, for Christmas”, he finished off in a whisper.
He wasn’t looking at her anymore, rather, everything else on the ground but her. His eyes were distant, off in his own world, he looked near death.
She couldn’t do it. Just seeing his suffering, reminded her of Nathan again, and when Peter inhaled, she felt a raw ache, so potent it nearly knocked her out.
“I can’t- I’m, um, swamped with school stuff”, she lied.
His eyes ran back to hers, and she noticed they’d gotten slightly glossy, “Please, I can’t go back there without you. I-”
But he couldn’t finish, it was like the air had brought more pain inside him. Claire felt that ache again, breathing was painful for her too, she couldn’t take seeing Peter anymore, not when it reminded her of Nathan, and not when that brought all the pain back.
When she was about to say no, when that moment was so close, and the answer was a second away from her lips, she saw his nose flair. Peter inhaled again, and Claire felt the memories of Nathan rushing back like a movie in her head. She closed her eyes tightly, trying everything in her power to block it all out, but it didn’t work.
In front of her, Peter doubled over, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself, from a near-breakdown. She could see just how close he was from breaking down, and it tore her too. She could deal with herself being miserable, and having bouts of wanting to die, but she couldn’t deal with Peter in pain.
“Fine”, Claire heard herself saying, surprised at her response, “I’ll go.”
It would drain her, even possibly break her, but if it would help Peter, she’d do it. He might not have been a constant in her life, but he was someone Claire didn’t want to compromise being ok. If only one of them could be ok, it had to be him, always him.
…..
Christmas at the Petrelli mansion was awkward.
Heidi, Angela, the boys , and Peter were there, and though the boys were off in their own place, Angela and Heidi seemed to be bonding through their cooking. It would have left her and Peter to talk, and catch up, but it wasn’t that at all.
He seemed distant, even if he spoke to everyone evenly, and with a smile. Maybe it was that they couldn’t see how it was all fake, that he didn’t truly want to smile, or possibly even be there, she didn’t know. All she did know was that she didn’t want to, she only felt a sudden desire to go upstairs and scream into a pillow with all the power inside her. She felt the need to even jump off the top terrace, and hope she wouldn’t be able to regenerate back together.
The pain that ran through her felt worse and worse with every single second that passed by. It was a conundrum to her. With her eyes closed, she tried to breath evenly, and concentrate on a passage she’d visually memorized from a book she had read, anything- just not being there, and certainly not think about what she was feeling in her chest.
When it got to be too much, when she felt like it was tumbling her down, and that every single molecule in her body was withering in pain, right along with her, she stood up, trying to make it out, something else happened.
A few feet away from her Peter tripped, on one of Monty’s toys, as he himself had been trying to leave the room, and fell, making him pass out. That very second, Claire felt the pain of the hit- felt the blackness that consumed her eyesight, until she as well, fell unconscious.