Claire shook her head again when Brooke asked about the hospital. "No...no hospitals. No doctors." How could she explain to a doctor the blood that stained her shirt, but the fact that she had no wound? He'd throw her out and call her a liar.
She gave a faint nod to Peter when he mentioned he wanted to keep an eye on her-she knew it would make him fell better. "I'm fine, I promise. Good as new."
When they made it into his apartment, she took the water glass and took a long, deep drink-hey, she'd had some blood in her mouth, so she wanted to get rid of the taste, okay? She then set the glass down and shrugged out of her jacket, pulling it around herself to finger the hole now in the center of the back, surrounded by a blood stain. Finally, the blond slowly looked up to Brooke and Peter.
"Okay...I'm sorry y'all had to find out this way, but..." She sighed, then set the jacket down and stood, turning so her back was to them. The blood and hole on the back of her shirt was clearly visible, before she tugged the back up from the top, revealing the lack of a matching bullethole in her skin.
Once she was sure they'd seen it, she let her shirt back down, then turned and sat again. "So...I can heal. From anything. Even death...."