well, this is DEFINITELY AU. In this little world, Gabriel/Sylar doesn't kill Elle... And he is still a Petrelli, dammit.

anyway, prologue, lengthy though it may be.

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. If I did, Elle would be alive, Sylar would still be Gabriel, and still be a Petrelli, Hiro wouldn't be stuck in the past, and Claire would have died during the eclipse....
I think that's all...
....Oh, and little Noah would already be on the way.

Fugitives

Prologue
"You've built a love, but that love falls apart. Your little piece of heaven turns to dark."- DHT

Sylar & Elle
California

The beach, at first glance, was deserted. However, anyone bothering to look beyond a first glance might have caught sight of the two figures lying on the sand, near the water. A first impression of the pair might have been that it was a romantic outing. That first impression would also have been as wrong as it is possible to be. Few "romantic" evenings ended in blood pouring from a clean straight cut in the pretty blond's forehead. A cut put there by her "date". Elle's chest heaved and shuddered as she breathed, teetering on the edge of losing conciousness completely. Had she been in any state to question it, Elle might have wondered why her skin wasn't continuing to split, but the slice in her head, combined with the agony brought on by the sparks of electricity coursing over her skin, Elle wasn't in much of a state to wonder about anything.

Sylar- Gabriel?- stayed poised over her, fingers twitching, as he tried to force them back into position, so he could finish the job. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he finish her off?

He needed too, needed to be rid of her, to be rid of all connections to Gabriel. And Elle was the biggest connection to Gabriel. She made him weak- made Sylar weak, not Gabriel. A Gabriel with the will to regain control was not something Sylar could afford. Yet, he still couldn't kill her. Gabriel was still too prominent in his mind, still too much in control. Of course, coming up with perfectly logical reasons as to why this stupid little bitch had to die would do no good. Gabriel was emotional, not logical. All this woman had ever done was manipulate him, and lie to him, yet he couldn't managed to cut just a few more inches, so that he could get to her brain... See what really went on in there, and finally fully master the electrokinesis he'd absorbed from her, before. He hated not knowing how something worked... Both Gabriel and Sylar. How things worked had been his entire life- before and after Suresh showed up. Even with the temptation of the knowledge of how the power worked, he couldn't force himself to move.

"Ga..." Elle attempted to speak, having regained some semblance of clarity. Gabriel- Sylar?- refocused his attention on her, and grimaced at the sight of the blood staining her pale hair. "Ga...briel?"

He understood. She was asking who he was at the moment. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't really sure himself, so he simply nodded, not entirely certain she could even see him, despite her eyes being open.

"You... changed... saw..." she whimpered as a strong current of electricity made its way up her body, "Don't give... up. Ple...ase... Need..." Before she could finish what she had to say, she slipped back into her semi-conscious state.

Still not sure if he wanted to kiss her, or kill her, Gabriel/Sylar stood, and gathered the frail woman in his arms, and started walking alongside the water. He wasn't sure where he was going, or what he was going to do with Elle when he got there, but he'd find out.

Dallas, 5 years in the Future

The pair slipped through the shadows of the abandoned lot, perfectly silent, as if they themselves were shadows. They couldn't afford to be caught, not now. Not with so much at stake. They were good at hiding- especially in plain sight- but running, and actually being able to avoid being caught had always been an issue. This time, they had to keep from being caught. Because this time, being caught meant being dead. They were both out of breath, both exhausted. They'd fled home that morning, and hadn't stopped since. Bennet was certainly persistent; had to be, to be Pinehearst's top agent. Any one that had Bennet put on their trail was usually caught in a matter of hours. So far, they'd eluded capture all day. Though, they were sure Pinehearst hadn't sent their best agent out for them. No, the best agent was reserved for something so much more important than them. They just happened to know where that "something much more important" was.

"He'll be okay, right?"

"He'll be fine, ba-"

The rest of the reply was cut off by the gunshot, and bullet that passed directly between them, and ricocheted off a rusted trash bin.

"You know you can't hide from me!" came a shout from somewhere behind them, "Just tell me where he is, and I might let you go!"

"Bullshit," the pair muttered together. Pinehearst didn't let people go. Nathan didn't let people go. Ever.

...Not even family.

Nathan and Arthur

Pinehearst

Present Day

"So, all this is going to happen?"

Nathan observed the sketches his father had lined out across the long coffee table. He picked up one closer to the end, to get a closer look. This one had to be years away...

Arthur nodded, "Or, for now it is. That's the problem with drawing the future. It's only the future if the world stays on it's current track. One little thing shifts, and the future changes entirely. It's a problem that needs to be fixed."

"And that's why you need him?" Nathan pointed to the very last sketch.

"Not him. His ability. It's a rare one, one we haven't figured out how to replicate with the formula."

"C'mon, dad, this has gotta be four or five years from now... If it happens at all," Nathan shook his head at his father's seeming foolishness...

"It is happening, son," Arthur replied, calmly, picking up the sketch book he'd been using, and flipping to a page he hadn't bothered to pull out, "Your brother has made sure of that.... Even if he doesn't know it."

"Pete?" Nathan cocked his head to the side, confused, "I don't-"

Arthur cut him off, "Not Peter, Nathan, Gabriel," he didn't give Nathan a chance to respond before he handed the sketchbook to him, "That happened yesterday afternoon."

Nathan blinked, not even seeing the sketch. He was too busy trying to be sure he'd heard his father right. He didn't have a second brother. Much less one called Gabriel.... Unless... He had rather vague memories of when Peter'd been born- he'd been twelve at the time- and there had been another... Gabriel. But there'd been an accident... Everyone had thought he'd died. No one had ever told Peter, there had been no reason... Before he could begin to question this rather alarming news- that his first little brother, Peter's twin, was alive- Arthur spoke, as though he'd read his mind- which he likely had.

"I tried to have your mother kill him," he said it as calmly as if he were commenting on the weather, and not talking about the murder of a newborn child, "after she told me what he would become. But, Angela always did tend to go against my wishes when it came to her sons. She didn't finish the job. Gave him away instead."

After a very long pause, Nathan finally asked, "What did he become?"

Arthur looked at him with an expression that said the answer should have been obvious... "Sylar."

Gabriel and Elle

Peterson Beach house, California

The beach house door hadn't even been locked. Gabriel shook his head at the stupidity of some people, but wasn't going to complain. The place hadn't been occupied for a while- likely the family that owned it only stayed a few months out of the year- and it was a perfect place to keep Elle until such time as she woke up, and he figured exactly what he wanted to do with her. He hadn't gotten very far into that particular plan, just yet. He was still stuck on what to do after Elle fried him into oblivion several hundred times, for what he'd done. He hoped to avoid that part, but he wouldn't blame her when she went against his hopes and did a repeat performance of their time in that cell...

As it was, electricity was occasionally arching from her to him, making him twitch. Though, Elle remained unconscious. Gabriel was rather thankful for this, as it gave him time to think. Think about what Bennet had said. He'd come to the conclusion that Elle was right; he should have ignored anything Noah told him. Angela lying, and manipulating him was plausible- even likely-, as was Arthur... but both making the same claim? Especially since Arthur couldn't have known of what Angela told him... But Noah had known exactly which buttons to press. You really think you two could have a normal life? he'd asked. I read your file, Gabriel, you're not their son. They're playing on your mommy issues to make you into their weapon. And the final nail in the coffin; You know exactly who he is, because you helped create him. And you can't undo that.... he killed your father, Elle.

Noah was good, Gabriel had to give him that, but if he ever saw him again, he'd kill him. Or maybe it'd be the other way around. After all, Noah had just planted the seed of doubt, it was him who'd let it grow, until he'd almost... Oh, God, he'd almost killed Elle. His Elle. His little broken angel with her broken watch. He'd fixed her, in that cell, because he'd helped to damage her. Now she was broken again, and this time it couldn't be blamed on her father, or her own guilt... This time, it was all on him. Him, and that damned addiction. Sighing deeply, Gabriel sank as far as he could into the chair he'd placed by the bed on which Elle was currently lying. He'd patched her head up as best as he could, and had washed the blood out of her hair, and off of her leg. Playing the day's events over in his head, Gabriel watched the little blue sparks dancing over Elle's skin. Would she be in the same state she had been in before, when she woke up, or was this just a reaction to having her head cut open? If it was the first, he promised himself, he would do everything within his power to fix it.

Perhaps he and Elle were just damaged goods, perhaps they'd never be whole, but at least they could be put back together enough that the pieces of who they were weren't scattered about like shards of a broken glass.

Perhaps...

And with that last thought, Gabriel succumbed to the call of physical and emotional exhaustion, to dream of better things.... For a time, anyway.

----

Elle woke with a start, sitting up straight, her head filled with images of Gabriel- no, Sylar- trying to kill her. Where she expected to feel sand beneath her hands, she felt a soft mattress, where she expected to feel her hair matted with blood, she felt nothing. She almost allowed herself to hope that it had all been a dream... That she'd passed out, after she'd been shot, and was back in her room at Pinehearst... Almost. Until she felt the dull throb of the cut on her head. She reached up to brush her fingertips across the wound, and was met with the feeling of butterfly stitches holding the skin together. Her hand traveled farther up, to her hair. It was clean, as she'd thought. She was still in the same clothes she'd been in all that time- his shirt, his boxers- but her shoes were gone.

Half-curious, half-scared, Elle looked about, only able to really make out half of what she was seeing. This wasn't her room at Pinehearst, that was for sure. It was much to nice, much to homey. Pinehearst's rooms were like the rooms at Primatech: cells, with a few personal touches.

Judging from the light coming in the window, it wasn't too long after dawn, so it hadn't been but a few hours since the incident on the beach. Which, if the view was anything to go by, she was still on. So, if she was here, then where was-

"Elle."

Elle, if it had been possible, would have leaped out of her skin, her muscle tissue, and anything else it was possible for bones to get out of, at the sound of his voice. She spun as quickly as she could manage- but still found that the room continued spinning when she stopped- and attempted to summon her normal glowing globes of energy. She found herself, however, quite incapable of it, as even lighting one little spark sent tendrils of pain spiking through her arms. Dropping the idea of electricity for a moment, Elle focused on finding her target. And there he was, in a chair next to the bed, asleep. Which was odd, since she'd very clearly heard him say her name.

"Please... don't..." Elle twitched when Gabriel- if that was who he was- spoke again. He sounded... scared. Torn between curiousity about what was going on in his head, and a strong sense of self-preservation that was telling her to get up and leave now, Elle remained glued in place, watching, waiting for him to say something else. "They killed him," he muttered. There was no fear this time. This time it was pure, unadulterated fury, "Elle, they.... They killed him!" the last came out as a shout, and as he said it, Gabriel shot up in his seat, eyes snapping open, all so fast that Elle couldn't help but let out a surprised scream/squeak, and back away.

Gabriel's eyes focused, and his gaze landed on her. His expression was one of immense relief, and, as if he really had no control over what he was doing, he reached out for her, likely to brush her cheek, but Elle flinched away, as she had the night before. Only this time she didn't stop at flinching. This time, she continued to scoot back until she was met with the headboard of the bed. Gabriel's eyes darkened with disappointment, as he sighed, almost as if in acceptance. He had been expecting this reaction from her. Good, because he's going to keep on getting it. Again, Elle attempted to summon up a ball of energy. This time, she was rewarded with the ball, but still the sparks made her hand and arm feel like they were going to fall off. She cried out, her fingers curling involuntarily, as her own sparks turned against her. She let the energy die out, gasping, but she didn't take her eyes off of Gabriel, or Sylar, or whoever he was.

"Elle," he said, moving forward slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might be scared off with the slightest movement- which, technically, she was, and would be-, "Elle, please just listen to me for a moment," as if she had much choice, "What happened... What I did last night..."

"What you did?" Elle scoffed, "You tried to kill me!" She instantly regretted having raised her voice, as it caused her head to throb, and the room to start spinning circles around her. Forcing herself to remain within a reasonable volume, she continued, "You tried to kill me, Sylar," she spat the name at him, knowing it would hurt him. Good. He'd hurt her, in more ways than one, and she was never one to leave a score unsettled.

Gabriel grimaced, at the name, "I'm not going to insult you by saying I'm sorry," he echoed his own words from that cell merely days before, "But, what Bennet said... And getting my powers back... It doesn't excuse what I did, what I was going to do, but it was part of why."

Elle remained silent for a long while, simply glaring at him, before finally asking, "Why didn't you finish the job?"

Gabriel seemed to think on his answer for a moment, "I couldn't," when Elle started to ask why, he continued, "I came to my senses... Had a wake up call... I don't know... I just couldn't do it."

Elle knew that was as good an answer as any, and decided it might be best to leave it at that... For now.

Angela, Peter, and the Haitian

Primatech Facility, Odessa, TX

"One bullet to the back of the head, and it's done," said Angela, looking at the gun that sat on the table in front of the little gathering.

"You want me to kill him?" Peter couldn't believe what his mother was asking of him. Yes, his father deserved to die, needed to be stopped, but Peter wasn't entirely sure that he could do it. Whether or not he deserved it didn't change the fact that he was family.

"Your father must be stopped, Peter," Angela insisted, "He tried to kill your brothers," Peter twitched at the plural, but remained silent, "Why do you think I poisoned him? Now that Nathan and Gabriel have both switched sides, it's up to us to make sure Arthur doesn't succeed in his plans. That's why I sent you to get the Haitian. Without his powers, your father is vunerable."

"But what about Nathan, and Sy-... Gabriel?"

"If it comes down to them, or us, you'll have to deal with them as well."

Peter shook his head, "Mom, I can talk Nathan out of this, if you'll just give me a chance-"

"Your brother will not listen to reason, Peter," the Haitian finally spoke, "He has seen a chance for more power, and has taken it."

Unfortunately, the normally silent man was right. It didn't make Peter like it any more. "What about Gabriel? He saved my life, mom... Dad just got into his head... "

Angela raised a skeptical eyebrow at her youngest son, "Yesterday, during the eclipse, he and Elle Bishop attacked Claire, and Noah. Claire died, Peter. If it hadn't been so near the end of the event, she might have stayed dead. Noah was nearly killed as well."

"I saw him, in the future," Peter argued, "He'd changed... And he wasn't with Pinehearst," this caught Angela's attention. Peter hadn't told anyone details of what he'd seen in the future, just that the world was going to go to hell. She motioned for him to continue, and so, Peter told her all of what he'd seen.

"For the moment, it makes little difference," Angela finally said, "If we're to succeed, none of that will happen. Your father, and your brothers can't win this fight, Peter. You know better than anyone what happens if they do."

"Your mother is right, Peter."

Peter glared at them both, but sighed in resignation, "So what are we going to do?"... Whatever it was, if he could avoid killing either of his brothers, he would.

------

It was raining. Peter'd always hated the rain; it always seemed to make a bad situation feel worse. Yet today, he was glad for it. Staring at the drops on the windows, and listening to the tick-tick-ticking of the rain as it fell kept his mind off of other things. Kept him from wondering exactly how he was supposed to kill his father- who could unfortunately see the future, now- and possibly his brothers. He was sure he could get his siblings, at least, to listen to reason, or maybe just Gabriel. Nathan had never been predisposed to listening to what his baby brother had to say. Especially when it was advice about listening to their parents. Nathan had always listened, had always been what Dad wanted him to be. Peter had been the rebel, had been the one to defy Dad's wishes. Peter getting into, and graduating from nursing school had been perhaps the biggest crime of the century, in Arthur's opinion. Regardless of whether he'd had his father's respect, or not, Peter was at least proud to say that he, unlike Nathan, had not turned into a puppet, blindly following their parents' wishes.

Unfortunately, it looked as though Gabriel was following Nathan's path.... Attacking Claire- which meant Arthur knew she was the key to the formula- almost killing Noah... But, maybe it wasn't too late. Just maybe.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Peter dug through his pockets to find his phone. He needed to call Matt and find out how to get in touch with Molly...

Kay, so, chapter one isn't finished yet. Should have it done soon. It will- sorta- follow cannon, with a few changes... Most of them are apparent in this.