At the point when Peter pulled her into his lap, Claire really wasn't paying attention to much around her, she simply went willingly because she was clinging to him so tightly. This was just one more loss on top of all of the rest, but she hadn't become hardened to the losses over the years, so each hurt. Even losing Nathan, who she'd never really had in order to lose. But her tears weren't just for her own pain, but for Peter too, who had lost a brother – who had lost most of his family one by one. She knew how much Nathan meant to him, it hadn't been hard to determine with the way Peter had relied on Nathan back in New York, and she'd at least witnessed the truth of Nathan's feeling when they thought Peter dead. It was what she had witnessed that had made accepting the terror of those five years harder to do. Now? Now at least something made a little sense, as it meant not all of it contrasted with that image.
But she and Peter hadn't lost everyone, not as long as they had still been out there. So it was Peter she held on to now, the proof that even while lost in the world, there had been someone out there even if he'd been out of reach.
When it seemed both Peter and Claire weren't leaving the roof, Nathan sat down on the rooftop itself, slowly letting up his grip on the mute to the connection in order to reach out briefly to Peter, having felt the gentle press and seen no reason to not respond. He hadn't thought for a minute that his attempts to conceal himself were effective for anything except keeping from upsetting Claire further, by he didn't linger, retreating back along the link but not raising barriers again.
Time ticked by as Nathan listened to Claire's sobs continue and eventually lessen, he himself quiet and not attempting to engage Peter. Peter needed to be there for Claire unreservedly. Nathan just needed the comfort of knowing someone was there for her.
Eventually, however, Claire was able to find her head above the sea of stuff she was feeling, grief still raw but not as loud in order to make room again for all the rest, from the disorientation to the hope. So many questions, so many things that needed explained, but the topic right now was the one last addressed before she'd cried so hard she couldn't talk anymore. At least now she could breathe again, it felt as though she'd cried for far more than another death, without intending to do so – an unintended by necessary purge.
"So, he's... here?" It was an unnecessary question itself, as Peter had said that, but it wasn't just face value. There were hows and whats attached, because this place still didn't make any sense. She was having to redefine everything she'd know to be true an hour ago and that wasn't so easy when those definitions included so much pain. She made a face at Peter's soaked shirt as she lifted her face from it, fretfully smoothing the wrinkled wet fabric with her palm. "How did you find out what- what happened?"