As she watched Peter's inner turmoil manifest itself externally, her brow furrowed. Was he really so upset about her? Her entire life, no one had really cared like that. Not even her own father. What made Peter so different? What made her so different? Maybe she was misinterpreting. That had to be it.
There were worse things to be concerned about, anyway. Like the whole Sylar situation. "When you say he's here, you mean... in solitary confinement or something, right? Not... here." She made a small gesture to the area around them. "Not like us." Even while she was asking, her eyes made a quick scan of the room. She knew it was just wishful thinking. And that somewhere in the room, maybe, one of the people innocently eating bacon and french toast was that sick bastard.
And just when she thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Peter didn't know her. Not outside of this weird, fucked up place. It didn't make any sense. It didn't make any sense because she didn't want to accept that everyone's memories could be tampered with so easily— Peter, Claire, herself? Probably everyone else at Landel's, from the sound of it.
Even more confusing, though, was why Peter cared about her at all then if he barely knew her, from the sound of it. "It wasn't much different, I guess." She tried to build herself up, tried not to make it sound like a major deal. Being a big girl was important now. "Except you were the prisoner, and I got to play nurse." With a sly smile, she propped her head against the palm of her hand. "We had some good times."
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There were worse things to be concerned about, anyway. Like the whole Sylar situation. "When you say he's here, you mean... in solitary confinement or something, right? Not... here." She made a small gesture to the area around them. "Not like us." Even while she was asking, her eyes made a quick scan of the room. She knew it was just wishful thinking. And that somewhere in the room, maybe, one of the people innocently eating bacon and french toast was that sick bastard.
And just when she thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Peter didn't know her. Not outside of this weird, fucked up place. It didn't make any sense. It didn't make any sense because she didn't want to accept that everyone's memories could be tampered with so easily— Peter, Claire, herself? Probably everyone else at Landel's, from the sound of it.
Even more confusing, though, was why Peter cared about her at all then if he barely knew her, from the sound of it. "It wasn't much different, I guess." She tried to build herself up, tried not to make it sound like a major deal. Being a big girl was important now. "Except you were the prisoner, and I got to play nurse." With a sly smile, she propped her head against the palm of her hand. "We had some good times."