Author's Note: This was a drabble for pairechallenge on LJ. (: The theme was black, and I couldn't help but try. May be horrible, but eh, it was fun. (: Review! (Oh, and it's short 'cuz it's a drabble. Keep that in mind. (:)

-x-

It was very dark that night.

The night she was just imported straight back to her Costa Verde home.

Was it pitch-black because of what happened, or because the stars were gone - like her hope? The darkness just cloaked over the city, hovering over it menacingly.

Was it necessary? Did she have to be treated like glass just because both her fathers were out to protect her?

Claire didn't want this, she didn't want this royal treatment. she was just like the others, like the hunter said - 'it doesn't matter who your daddy is.' What mattered was, she wanted to come back for them. Namely, she wanted to come back for him.

Peter.

That name just rings in her ears, like the vibrating silence thick in the air, almost as thick as the tenebrous night sky and the humid air that surrounded it.

He had saved her countless times before, so she would merely be returning the favor. Right?

Of course not - it's much more complicated than that.

They were... family now. Just family. And why couldn't she live with that?

But other times, she felt like she still needed the saving. Like that knight in shining armor would just go marching - well, flying, really - through that clouded dark sky to her window. He'd pick her up, spin her around and they'd find a secluded place where they could be alone, and they could love, kiss, and touch as much as they...

No. It couldn't be like that. Whenever her fantasies popped up like that, she'd just heckle herself and shake it off, because she knew above all things it was wrong. Running away wouldn't solve the impossibility of their love. Normal eighteen year olds do not get fantasies about their own UNCLES, they worry about college applications and who they'd go to parties with.

Claire Bennett was definitely not a normal eighteen year old in the slightest.

This time, it obviously couldn't be ignored.

With the wistful expression in her eyes, staring out her window at the intimidating night sky, she could almost SEE him flying towards her door, SMELL his natural masculine scent, and HEAR the tapping noise he'd make while he called her name, coming to rescue this damsel in distress from her dungeon and fly her off into the gloomy, dark sky. He would come, wouldn't he?

Peter Petrelli WAS her hero, after all.