[identity profile] ms-miracle-grow.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hh_mirror
((Done with permission from the Heroes-muns. Spoilers for the whole first season.))



The door to the Sorting Room opened slowly, and a pretty blonde girl, about sixteen, poked her head around it. "Hello?"

Hitching her bag over her shoulder, Claire Bennet made her way inside, eyes wide as she took in the stone walls and suits of armor. "Wow. This is so just like the set to a movie." A kind of half-smile was on her face as she headed towards the table in the middle of the room. Setting her bag down, she sat, crossing her legs and glancing down at the application.

She'd come all the way to Scotland for a purpose. After the explosion, after Nathan (her bio dad, which was a concept she still couldn't wrap her brain around completely) and Peter (Uncle Peter? That just sounded weird) had disappeared - had died, probably - all Claire could think of was that she had to do something with the power she'd been given. Peter had saved her, then had died saving the world. He'd lived so brightly, so completely focused on his destiny, on what he'd been meant to do, and Claire wanted his death to mean something. She wanted her dad - her real dad, the man who had raised her - to not have taken a bullet for her for nothing. She wanted to help people.

Hey, even Nathan had come around in the end. The future wasn't set in stone. There was always hope.

Unfortunately, being a cheerleader in Odessa, TX, wasn't exactly the best background for a super hero. Unless saving people required a handstand or a human pyramid, she was going to need some help. Hopefully, she'd be able to get it here. Claire just had to remember that she was posing as a totally normal girl. Hey, she could keep cover. Not like she didn't have any experience in that.

"Um, hi," she said, not really sure what else to do. "I'm Claire Bennet. I'd like to apply for your school? Please?"

The quill jumped to life and Claire started back. At first she looked wildly around the room, heart pounding. She hadn't exactly had the best experiences with objects moving seemingly on their own. But when she didn't see anyone, Claire relaxed, looking down at the quill with a smile.

"Cool."

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Wrinkling her nose at the question, Claire looked around the room. "This is kind of an...unusual question, don't you think? I mean, for a school application. Sounds like a question that would be on some internet quiz or something." She flashed a tiny smile, then shrugged and laughed a little. "Um, I feel like I should say brie or something, so I sound mature and sophisticated." Again she laughed, looking ruefully at the application. "But I guess the truth would be the nachos that they have at football games at my school? Even though I so shouldn't eat them. Or toasted cheese sandwiches with a glass of orange juice. I don't know, I guess I'm kinda simple."

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

The smile on Claire's face faded slightly, and she looked up quickly. What kind of application was this? "Well, Barney has that annoying song," she forced a laugh, one shoulder rising and falling in a slight shrug.

But behind the friendly, if slightly bland, expression, Claire's mind was racing. Could they know? Or were they just trying to make her slip up? Or maybe this was just one of those personality things, like 'If you could only save one person from a burning building, who would it be?'. (Of course, Claire's answer to that would, in reality, be a lot different than most people's. Having the ability to heal yourself would do that.) In any case, Claire suddenly was a lot more wary of the application, and she proceeded with caution, smile frozen on her face, eyes darting around the room from time to time.

She had to be careful.


3. What time is it where you are?

Compared to the last question, this one was refreshingly normal. Taking a look at her watch, Claire said, "Well, I'm still set to Texas time. And..." she laughed. "God, I'm so bad at math. My watch says six oh-five. So whatever it would be to get it onto Scottish time."

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

A look of repulsion crossed her face. "You can't force yourself on people. That's just wrong, no matter who you are. And you shouldn't encourage it, either. People who think they're above all that, they need to be stopped. You should be able to feel safe around people, especially people you think you could care about. Harassing them, forcing yourself on them, that's disgusting."

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

"Um..." She paused, thinking. Then one corner of her mouth lifted in a sad little smile. "'Between a Rock and a Sponge'. It's...a play on the name of...of this guy I knew. He...he was a hero." Her smile was forced larger and Claire stuck out her chin, definitely not crying. "And hey, heroes get things named after them, right? I mean, a fictional bar isn't exactly a statue, but I think he'd laugh."

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

Holding up both of her hands, Claire laughed and shook her head, eyes going wide. "Oh, no. I kinda think I'm the last person you should ask about all that. I've got, like, no experience, and the little I do have kind of...ended bad." But she considered the question for a minute, a smile playing out on her mouth. "But I guess, if I had to, I'd just say it should be whoever he loved. I mean, really loved. Like, the person he trusted and wanted to spend time with and made him feel safe. And butterflies and all that. If you're going to do the whole 'til death do you part' thing, it should be with your best friend, right?"

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

"Um, I'm not exactly smart." Claire gave a self-deprecating laugh, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I totally barely passed Bio. But maybe you should just get a secretary or something? Or switch jobs? I guess I don't see paper as a huge problem. That's kind of what my dad does for a living." Claire paused, biting her lower lip, then smiled again. "He's the manager of a paper company." So far as anyone else in the world needed to know, that is.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

"Me? I'm...just a cheerleader. I mean, I don't think anyone is worthless, but I'm not exactly anything special." Sticking her hands in her pockets, Claire stared down at the paper for a minute, not really seeing anything. Or, rather, seeing something very different than a rough, wooden desk and a large piece of parchment. "I've known some really extraordinary people, though," she continued quietly. "I mean, really, really amazing. There was this one guy, he saved my life. Even though he didn't even know me. He died saving the world. And there were other people, they gave up everything... I think that's special." Raising her head again, Claire blinked, then smiled softly. "I'm just a girl."

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

Oh. Um. Digging in her bag, Claire brought out a bag of gummy worms, a few pens (pink, glittery ones), a disposable camera, and a few paperbacks she'd bought at the airport. "Sorry, that's pretty much all I have." Glancing around, she tucked a strand of hair behind her hear, eyes questioning. "So - did I pass?"

Date: 2007-09-03 11:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter was going to argue the point and say that his powers weren't cool, but Rachel was smiling, and he didn't want to say something that might end that. To him, his powers were really just burrowed - it was more cool that Rachel's were her own and the range of things she could do.

"Yeah, well. I'm not a magician, so don't be counting on any special show of tricks," he rolled his eyes briefly. Even though, if Claire asked, he probably would make an exception and show her a few tricks just to watch her face light up in a smile. Peter was, and he knew this quite well, a sucker for doing anything that would make people smile.

Date: 2007-09-03 11:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter made a weird sound that might have been phonetically translated into 'nyargh!' when Claire shoved the pen into her arm. Pure instinctual response, even when he knew full well that the wound wouldn't last more than ten seconds.

"Jesus christ," Peter mumbled weakly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Do you have to do that on purpose?"

Obviously Rachel had realized that Claire was the reason he could heal, and he shot her an understanding smile at the sudden hug she gave Claire. Peter was just as thankful towards his niece for the ability, but it was nice to see that someone else was, too.

"Yeah, vampires," Peter shrugged casually, amused at the sudden direction the conversation had taken. "There's all kinds around here. Werewolves, witches, people who say they're aliens, talking animals. It gets interesting."

Date: 2007-09-03 12:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter looked slightly ill in response. He got that she had to test the limits of her powers, but so far he'd been a chicken about testing the cell regeneration. Trying to pick up trees with telekinesis was fine, but he'd only managed to get so far as scraping his knuckles along rough wood to test the healing. Nothing like jumping off oil rigs, Jesus.

Shifting his weight so that Rachel could lean against him without toppling over, Peter affectionately bumped his chin against her shoulder, burying his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's pretty insane," he agreed dryly. "You get used to it, though. Most of the people around here are pretty friendly, eventually you don't even care that you're talking to an angel, or a," demon, Peter wasn't going to follow through and say the logical opposite, "house elf, or whatever. It's cool."

Date: 2007-09-03 05:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
See, and here - right here, this - was the essence of what confused the hell out of me about Peter. Without thinking about it, we just kind of fell in together. All these physical forms of intimacy that seemed to mean nothing and yet were part of the reason I felt so secure and at home with him. A touch, the way our eyes met and I knew what he was trying to say, the way he would reach for me or I would reach for him. He responded, and most days I didn't feel awkward or out of place or like an outsider.

And yet he apparently wasn't attracted to me at all. None of the touches on his part appeared to be leading anywhere. Very rarely had I felt this degree of comfort with a person, to feel secure that I could reach out and they would reach back. And it had never happened with someone who didn't want to sleep with me. I had no context for what Peter and I were doing. The only conclusion I had for the touches was sex, and Peter didn't want that. Not with me.

He claimed there were feelings, there. But I could only quantify emotions by the actions they generated. Things like this, like what we were now, I understood them on a basic level. He wants me so he holds me, he enjoys me so he sleeps with me. I matter to him, so he kisses me. I hold his attention, so he is attracted to me. My relationships had failed because I hadn't been enough, I had stopped being an object of desire.

But if I had never started with Peter, then how was I supposed to keep him?

I had tilted my head slightly to rest my temple against Peter's, lost in my own thoughts. I came back when I felt a sudden tension in his body and I blinked, lost. Oh, crap.

Rewinding the conversation in my head, I picked up the last thing I'd heard. "Why tape it?" I asked Claire.

"Well," Claire considered the question, biting absently at her thumbnail. "At first it was for my family. My real family. I wanted to show them what I was, thinking that they could, I don't know, explain me or something. But then it became for me. Like, so I wouldn't forget, no matter what." She paused, then evidently decided that Peter and I could be let in to some thought. "There's this guy who works for my dad. Or, he did. Anyway, he can take your memories. Make you forget. One day, everyone in my life had just...forgotten stuff. Except me. He told me I'd need my memories. And I had to pretend and..." Claire trailed off, the frustration of that still evident in her face. "Anyway, I wanted to always have a way so that they couldn't take at least that from me, you know?"

That was...a lot. I sorted through in my mind, making a logical list of...

Oh, who was I kidding? "Your real family?" I blurted out. "I thought Nathan was your dad."

"He is. My bio-dad," she grimaced slightly. "I was raised by my adopted parents. I didn't think they would understand who I was. Turns out, my dad understood probably better than anyone."

Wow, that was a whole lotta family for one person. I didn't have any, not anymore. I couldn't imagine having two. I didn't know if I envied her so hard it ached somewhere in my chest or if I was relieved I wasn't in her shoes.

Two guesses to which one it really was.

"He made you forget?" I changed the subject, looking...well, terrified. "That's probably the creepiest thing I've ever heard. Someone rooting around in your mind, making you think or feel or remember or forget something you don't want to? That's scary." The words were lame, but I couldn't actually express how horrified that thought made me. My brain was my own, thank you very much, and I'd appreciate it if it and my body were left in peace.

Date: 2007-09-03 05:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
((Two of two. God help us all.))

"Yeah," Claire gave one of her sad little one shoulder shrugs. "It was..." A brief smile glimmered across her face. "Yeah. Creepy. And lonely. No one remembered, not even my best friend, Zach. I was totally alone. And I knew my dad had done it. And then I tried to find my real mom, but she turned out... I don't know. And my real dad was Nathan, but he just gave her a check and left and didn't want to see me. I thought I was going to find a family, but..."

"They all left." I said that with so much history behind the words it hurt.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking at me. I smiled a little and shrugged awkwardly.

"They always leave."

"Not always." She looked over my shoulder to Peter then back at me.

In spite of myself, one corner of my mouth curved up in what could only be described as a hopeful expression. "Not always," I agreed quietly.

Date: 2007-09-03 05:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Huh, Peter hadn't known all of that. It was understandable, at least, why Claire had started video taping herself. He wondered who had taped it for her, who had been her partner in crime - it must have been good to have someone who believed in her, who was willing to ride the freak show with her and help her out. Peter hadn't really had that, amongst Nathan and Simone and Mohinder, who'd thought he was crazy - he felt thankful that Claire had at least one person to share it with.

Jesus, the idea of Mr Bennet erasing everyones memories, though. That was an uncomfortable thought. On one hand, Peter wondered if it might not make everything easier - but on the other, he couldn't imagine forgetting what he could do. Likely, he'd go through the exact same progression of discovering them as last time.

He'd gone quiet again as they were talking; it was good that Rachel was being willing to talk with Claire. Small steps to becoming more emotionally comfortable with other people. And thank you, finally, she was admitting that people didn't always leave. Not that Peter had much experience with this, between his dad and friends and his patients. Especially his patients; each of whom he'd loved and devoted himself to, even when they were fading and would eventually die. It wasn't leaving, it was just... going somewhere else.

"Yeah, not always," he commented, nudging Rachel with his shoulder and shooting her a look. Honestly, she should know right now that he was one of the hardest people in the world to get rid of. Once Peter formed attachments, he didn't let go of them easily.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Perhaps Claire shared a bit of her uncle's empathic ability or maybe she just caught the look on my face, but she suddenly gave me a knowing smile and said, "I'm going to go over there," she pointed to the opposite side of the room, "and talk to someone for a while. Um, you guys have fun. I'll be back in a bit." The she turned and walked away, barely hiding her laughter. Yeah, thanks, Claire.

I turned so that I was facing Peter, eyes full of emotions that I really wasn't built to express. So I let them show, the best I could do, and I hoped it was enough. My arms looped loosely around his neck and I leaned in. Our lips met in a kiss, and even that gentle touch sent fire racing down my spine, made me weak at the knees.

"I get it," I murmured against his lips. "I'm slow, not stupid, Petrelli."

Then I kissed him again, slowly, trying to express everything in actions rather than words that I knew would fall flat. That I didn't understand. That I'd wait for him to figure it out anyway. That I loved him. That I didn't expect anything.

That I thought I'd finally figured out he wasn't going anywhere. And that feeling would probably get washed away in a bout of insecurity in the future, but for now, I was secure. For me, that was pretty much the best I could hope for.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"You're not stupid or slow, I don't-" Peter started to protest, but was promptly cut off by Rachel leaning in for a second kiss. Christ, she had to stop doing that, or Peter was just going to do something stupid and get more involved - something he normally had never restricted himself upon, but ever since Simone and having to run away because he was radioactive, had become slightly more cautious about.

It didn't help that Rachel was a good kisser. Like, a really good kisser. He couldn't help but react and fall into that every single time.

Once they pulled away, Peter's mouth twisted in amusement. "Did we just scare my niece away?" He asked in a murmur.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Laughing a little, I shook my head. "She's good." God, he'd responded. Like, really. And because of that I was feeling borderline confident for the first time pretty much ever.

Smiling at him, I pressed another kiss to his lips. "I like her." Why were we talking about Claire right now? "She's perceptive." That was said with a teasing smile as my fingers found their way into his hair. "You could take lessons!" I murmured, eyes dancing playfully.

Another kiss and, really, I was falling far too deeply into this. Mouth opening slightly under his, I let the taste of him fill my mouth, let the sound of his heart echo my own. This would be a really good time to be invisible.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"Shut up, I can too be perceptive," Peter mumbled, only to be promptly cut off and distracted again by Rachel kissing him once more.

This was confusing. And Peter didn't like confusing, no matter how much he loved sharing emotions. He liked emotions that he knew, that he could understand, relate to, and empathize with. Rachel was... confusing, but he liked her. He just didn't like that she was confusing. For a guy who prided himself on being able to understand people, it was a little disarming.

"Mm, okay, wait," he pulled back, a hand loosely cupping Rachel's jaw. "My niece is in the room, you're not supposed to be distracting me." His tone was lightly teasing, feigning reproving. "Not that this isn't good, but I have to be Uncle-like and tell her things before we leave. Like... no flirting with a guy that has thirty metal rings in his face, or something."

Date: 2007-09-03 07:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
"She's not going anywhere," I observed with a smile. But, after another quick kiss, I obliged, pulling back. "And don't knock the metal rings. They can be very attractive."

Where Peter was confused, I'd had a brief, precious moment of clarity. He was attracted to me. That one realization was enough to validate everything else we'd been through. If he was attracted to me, then I understood what was happening. And if I understood, I could move forward.

My hand reached up to cover his. "All right, Uncle conversation time," I teased. "But I'm letting you know, I want to continue this conversation later. It's up to you, and I won't start it, but I want to." My eyes searched his. "Okay?"

Date: 2007-09-03 07:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Oh, there was no mistaking exactly what Rachel meant. And while Peter initially felt a brief moment of unease - he wasn't sure if he wanted to commit to this relationship like that, because sex was a big deal for him, something really meaningfully important - he fought it down, and didn't let it show. Rachel might not understand, but he'd muddle through, somehow.

"Okay," he agreed, tucking his hair behind his ear and trying not to look like he'd just been making out - it didn't work very well. "Where did she go, did you see?" Peter would look for her, but he was a little more distracted in looking at Rachel.

Date: 2007-09-03 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
"I was kind of distracted," I informed him with a smile. My hand tucked my own hair back, then reached up to straighten his. "But she'll wander back. She just left to give us, you know, a second." My grin widened; I looked beyond happy. I liked knowing where I stood.

Claire seemed to have a sixth sense, because she choose that moment to show up, giving her uncle a huge grin. "Sorry about that," she said around the smile. "I hope you guys weren't bored."

I shot her a look, to which I got an innocent little smirk. Yeah. So not loaning her my pants now.

"Your uncle wanted to inform you of the dangers of men with metal in their faces," I said soberly, hands in my back pockets, nudging Peter lightly with my elbow. "It's apparently very important."

Date: 2007-09-03 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Great, now he just looked kind of stupid. Peter chewed on his lip thoughtfully, wondering if there was really anything serious he needed to say to Claire. She could take care of herself, but that didn't mean that Peter didn't want to keep her safe.

"Guys with metal rings in their faces aside," Peter shrugged, dismissing that, "I just have to ask that you tell your parents whenever you drop by and see us." His expression turned distinctly sheepish. "I don't want frantic letters being sent at me."

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