Heroes Volume Three: Villains
Chapter One: VortexSylar: People are social creatures. Why do we feel a need to interact? Some people believe it is best to act on the impulse of their heart and soul. Many misunderstand these people. But these people are special, and the fact that they are special draws them to power and purpose. They are all sucked into this vacuum of power, and all are drawn together. And only the sheer collective of them can truly change the world. However, whether this change is for good or evil is determined by those who are in control, and it must take a group decision to overrule these manipulators.
Peter Petrelli paces the cold tiles of the hospital floor in Odessa, Texas with desperation. He found it hard to believe that little over a year ago he was a mere intern in a hospital much like this. But like that hospital, the Peter of the past was so far away. Matt Parkman wasn't able to stop by, as he was readying a rental to go back to New York. Whether Peter was going was a different matter.
"Hey, Doc." Peter spoke almost wordlessly to the passing man. "How long?" He'd been in the field to long to ask 'How's it looking?'. He knew it'd be awhile, but depending on how serious Nathan's condition was, there might not be enough time to save him.
"It's looking like he has a week left in him. We stopped the blood and repaired the wound, but it's out pretty cold. It's up to his own body now, to see whether his system can fight off the internal. But as far as him waking up, we'll never know. It'll take thee days just to see how he's doing." The doctor delivered in a kind, understanding manner.
As the doctor walked off down the hall, Peter's thoughts turned to the killer. Matt said that he barely got a glimpse of him, but he had gotten enough to let the police sketch artist set up what looked likely to be a man. No man he knew would willingly shoot Nathan…unless Sylar was back. But that couldn't be. Hiro killed Sylar in Kirby Plaza.
Adam Monroe might, but to Peter it was too hard to think of him as a villain. God, it seemed every time Hiro vanished it caused someone trouble. But it wasn't his fault. Hiro, though annoying, was good hearted and after all, helped his brother realize who Adam was.
Matt stepped in silent and somber. One single key hung from a ring in his left hand. He stood there as soberly and confidently as he had stood down Sylar, and even Peter himself two days ago. Both felt bad that they couldn't even command him to wake up. "What'd they say?" Matt asked.
"It'll be a few days before they know." Peter hung his head and sat on the bench they had, Matt also moving to rest on the other end.
"Well, I have the car. I guess we should leave as possible. That killer could still be around, and there's no time to waste on saving Nathan." Matt's instincts as a cop urged him to leave, regardless of the emotion happening. And as a detective, he wondered as well how the Company managed to react so quickly.
"No, go ahead. I'll fly. I need a moment with Nathan…and some business to finish at Primatech." They shook hands, parted without words that were unneeded. They had their mission, and it was up to them to absolve another generation's sins.
Peter walked past some beds, sanitized his hands outside the door and touched it's cool metal handle despondently. He walked up to Nathan's prostrate form, gazed at the face of a leader. A leader who had once again found a calling to heed.
"Nate...I don't know what to say. You always make the right choice, in Kirby Plaza and when you helped me here. And I…I must've…although I didn't mean it…I…I must've caused you so much agony. I'm sorry. You are such a great leader, and we need you. Just know I'll do anything to protect my family, and to save you. That's…why we do this, isn't it? For our family, for forgive our parents, love each other, for you to save me just because."
And with that said, he strode to the window. As he done in his apartment, oh so many times, he telekinetically lifted the window, and jumped.
Claire Bennett was frustrated. She knew it wasn't right to expose the Company so dramatically, but something had to be done. Her dad was only looking out for the best, but running from the Company or protected by them, she still had to suppress her powers. Except when they, of course, would come by whenever they dared and when her dad was in a good mood to get some blood. She didn't mind that part of it. She wanted to help people. But the Company didn't care about her, and might not even use her blood in the right way.
She walked through the campus that was Costa Verde somewhat at ease. She did have a friend or two on the cheerleading squad. And anything, right now, was better then home. As long she didn't run into West. She wanted to see him, however the Company, along with her meeting her counselor by force, had put her in different classes than him. She wanted to explain to him how right he was, that they could never expose themselves wide-open, but as far as how the heroes would be revealed, when and why she didn't know. She didn't even know how to take down the Company. She just knew that she loved West, and he was right.
It was 7th hour, and as the bell rung she picked up her bag and ran, abandoning her friend from cheerleading. She knew West had weight training last, and seeing as she had to head over to the field she thought she could see him then. And she did, but the crowd of people in Costa Verde seemed to separate them like the Red Sea.
She came out of practice feeling somewhat better. A cheerleader approached her. "Hey Claire. We're planning on catching a movie Friday, you want to come?"
As much as she wanted to, and however much she was enjoying it, she knew outside of supervised activities, she'd never have a life outside school. "Sorry, I've got a ton of homework for Bio, a project on regeneration in animals or something."
The sympathetic look she received almost made her feel good, in some sick way she felt needed. "Oh…ok then, see you tomorrow!" And she ran off to join the others while Claire hitched up the bag and as she did, swung it into someone.
"Sorry, uh…." She trailed off as she looked up into West's eyes.
"Hey Claire. How's it going?" He said as if it meant nothing, but he was still interested. Claire was still important to him, at least as a friend.
"Horrible. West, you were…" Her plead and revelation was cut short by a blaring horn. She looked to see her dad. And he was pretty sure he saw who she was with. Shit. West took off without a word and explanation of why he was there. She was almost whisked away in the thought that he flew in just now to see her, but was brought to reality by a softer beep of the same horn.
Just showed how her dad was. Meant the best, but wasn't quite doing it right now. Isn't that what he'd preach to that one guy who joined the Company for him? Not to be confused and drawn in by the Company's good intent?
She walked up and jumped in the front. If she was going to be picked up and thus couldn't drive, she wouldn't, at least, get in the back. "Hey dad." She said with a resigned smile.
"Hey Claire. How was your day?" She just stared back. And that was all Noah had seen since. He had always second-guessed himself. But he had no more contacts. Lord knows where the Haitian was. Claude was impossible to find, even if their…history…never happened. Mohinder was alienated as well. What power did he have anymore?
"Look, I know West is the only one besides us aware of the goings-on. But I won't have him eliminated." He tried to sound kind, but he was talking about having someone killed. That was nothing new. But to his daughter…. about her boyfriend….
"Great favor you're doing me." Claire sulked back, and sat right back up with vigor and pleading. "Dad, listen to us! Our life is never going to be normal when we're involved like this! We are talking about death almost casually!" She had a point. One he dreaded over each day. But this was his family, his choice.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I know West is a good person, and he'll do anything to protect you, just like me. But you can't stay involved or something else is bound to happen. You can be on the squad now, and know that you'll be here for at least as long as you're in high school."
"It's still not normal." She gasped softly, murmured at the air in frustration.
Peter Petrelli stepped into a warehouse. One that was a symbol of parents' sin. That vault wasn't enough. He needed to wait, slowly, for the fire to come, and soon he went nuclear. And with an instantaneous cloud that sucked itself in as soon as it came out, it was all gone.
One man walked away from this rubble. He may have worn black garments with black hair, but he was definitely in the right. He cared little about some killer. He was powerful, and before he went to face them, he wanted the Company to be ready. Otherwise it would be no fun.
Matt Parkman walked into a lonely apartment. That damn Mohinder was too dedicated, to the wrong side. Oh well. He supposed that as long as he was doing this, one of them had to be around to take care of Molly.
He sifted through many miscellaneous papers the professor had strewn about, looking for the phonebook/list they had compiled. He needed to know where Peter was. He couldn't understand why he had stayed behind. There was no reason. Anyone who had any sense would run to New York. To save your brother and flee a killer…he may have a big power, but even Matt liked to take precautions as if he didn't. Would Peter really be that careless? And then, after a few minutes of absent thought and sifting through, he came across something.
A drab-looking company letter, but the word 'Bennett' raised a flag. It read "We are pleased to announce that Noah Bennett has been re-activated into the Southwest District. Please note the resulting change in…" Matt was shocked. The Bennett he knew was dedicated to bringing the Company down. In many ways, this current group of three was similar to the one he had a Kirby Plaza, only with Nathan as a leader and Peter as the loose cannon.
Instantly, his search intensified and he opened his cell phone, ready to contact Peter as soon as he found the number. He found it and dialed it as fast as he could. "Petrelli, it's Parkman. Where are you? "
"At the place that used to be Primatech." Peter's voice was all business.
"Used to be?" That must be a pretty dark path Peter was walking. Almost has if all that power caused him to go to absolutes with cleansing the world from the Company. God, Parkman, even that sounded rash. You're just trying to fix the past.
"I'm on my way." Peter had no time for this.
Pete appeared ready to jet over here. Good. "Hold on, Pete. There's something you should know. Noah's back with the Company, and he and the family are Southwest. Some place called Costa Verde."
Peter obviously struggled to grasp the memory and name, but soon responded. "How…why…"
"I don't know. Anyway, it doesn't concern us yet. Just come over like you planned…and let's break into an office."
The man who was once Gabriel Grey strode through a dark hallway, masking himself in shadow. He alone, the ultimate of evolution. And once he destroyed the remaining traces of this cheerleader, and her herself, he would not be stopped.
He had lurked around the Company all day. Their security wasn't too difficult. Now, he was ready to step in to a room that contained hope. And destroy it.
"Hello, Mr. Grey." Bob Bishop was able to turn anything, including humans, to gold. But contacting Sylar with even a finger was dream. And thus the pistol in his hand was aimed point-blank at the temple of the largest threat to any hero, regardless of alliance.
"It's Sylar." He coolly stepped in, fully intent on getting past the alchemist.
"Naming you an angel is too inappropriate. I agree." Bob enticed the murderer on with his blunt, usual persuasive tone.
"Naming yourself like a holy man is misleading too." Sylar shot back, icy precipitate forming near-liquid spheres ready to engulf the man's body.
"Let's not get tied up on specifics, Sylar." Bob was a man of business, and his tone was testament to such.
"Really? You want to know why I'm here? Simply to destroy the hope of mankind." Sylar, of course, cared little about mankind. But this Company controlled many heroes, and indeed was the center of all abilities. That's why he killed off Chandra. To save him from being sucked in by the Company's vortex.
"And I'm here to stop that." Bob gritted. Sylar laughed at the idea, chillingly ripping the air.
"As if that will redeem you." Bob scoffed in disdain. The air tensed. Something had to break the silence soon. Conflict was on the horizon, and battle near inevitable. Bob wondered how fast Sylar could react telekinetically after shooting ice at him. Would the bullet get through?
"Nothing can redeem him, Sylar. Nor you." Peter walked in and stood there, in the doorway. He hid the shock at finding Sylar alive. He overcame the simplest trace of that in his voice. Sylar couldn't know his shock, or it'd be used against
Instantly Sylar aimed his ice at Peter. He was aware with his hearing. It took slightly longer for Peter to begin to wield some energy at Bob, and Bob's gun remained facing Sylar's temple. Peter's eyes were locked, however, on neither of them, but the shelf behind with only five vials of Claire's blood. The question in his mind was not how to get them, but how much was enough.
"Really, Peter? I'm becoming the best of the human race. Is that so wrong?" Sylar taunted his excuse of a challenge. Soon he'd possess so much, if he could just get to his brain.
"All you are is a villain." Peter managed to growl behind clenched teeth.
"I'm the villain, Petrelli? Think again. We take our minor little victories and triumphs, and they've been proven evil time and time again, but yet we still scamper back to this Company. They're sucking us all in and manipulating us for evil. Taking them down once and for all is the only way to destroy your wretched problems. I've learned that, Petrelli. Can you?" The doubt Sylar intended to spread melted across the hero's face.
Bob Bishop, however, decided that this fight had gone on too long. Everyone here was against the other two, but with that comment the tide had turned, and unlike the others, Bob planned on survival. He deftly flicked his gun with expert marksmanship, and the sound of shattering glass split the air as coolly as Sylar's laugh.
"Seems my job is done for me Petrelli. All that's left is the demise of you two. Good job, Bishop." Sylar said as Peter was thrown once more, bruised and bleeding out one eye, to the far end of the room.
"Ah, but we'll get more. You don't know how." Bob gritted, gun re-cocked and aimed as though he'd shoot right then.
"Ah, but I do Mr. Bishop. Where do you think I've been this last day? I want that blood, it's the only thing putting you so-called heroes in my way."
"You'll never get it." The rasp of a weak man was uttered out the corner, as Peter dragged himself to the window. But no one saw it; until at the last instant more shattered glass was heard. Light flooded in intensely, and for a second they could see Peter, healing his hand and eye, jumping out and flying away.
"Petrelli!" Sylar swore it as if a curse, and telekinetically threw Bob to the ground. "You're lucky, Bishop. I'll only ask you to step aside." He walked over Bob's limp, unconscious form and set out to Costa Verde.
In Costa Verde, a man landed. He stealthily moved about until he found where he wanted to be. He made his way to Claire's room, making use of invisibility and phasing. Claire almost jumped to see her uncle there. She did just that once she was sure.
"Hey Claire." He said, patting her on the back in their embrace.
"I'm so glad you're here." She hung onto him as if he was a lifejacket that could keep her above the tumult of the waves.
He extended his arms and held her shoulders, locking onto her eyes with sincere need and joy. "I am too. Claire…. I have an odd request. I need your blood."
She abruptly turned away, sat down and then fell so she was lying on her bed. "Fine. No one ever sees me as a person anyway."
Peter, hurt by this, sat down alongside her on the bed. She pulled herself up. "Listen, I know things in our family aren't normal, even without the powers. You're probably best away from it…"
"It'd be better then here." She interrupted softly.
"…But I promise you, I'll always have your best interest at heart. That's why no matter what you dad is doing, now…."
"What am I doing now?" Noah appeared in the doorway, his ever-present revolver on his waist and his hand quickly flying there.
"Certainly not destroying the Company." And the gun flew out. Peter wasn't nervous. He'd been in a much more tense standown today. But throw in love between these three, and this could be a very difficult one to get out of.
"Well, at least she's safe." With those words Bennet had just said fresh in mind, Pete proceeded cautiously on his next words, speaking them with power but earnestness.
"At the cost of her comfort. TALK to your daughter, Noah. That night you gave me the privilege of your name is dead. You and I both know that without the Company, we could all go back to what might pass as normalcy. And as long as you're with them, you're the cold-hearted Mr. Bennett."
"She needs to be left alone, Peter." Bennet ignored with all his might the words coming out of Peter's mouth.
"Her blood is vital."
"To taking down the Company?" Bennet couldn't have that. Change was hard, adapting was easy, but he'd gone through it so much lately.
"To save her father." Pete decided to throw in some emotional aspect. Maybe that steely Noah would realize something. Or Claire, now only helplessly looking on, would do something.
"I'M her father." Bennet said back. No one dared challenge him about that. Claire was his daughter.
"My brother, then. Her biological dad. Whatever. But he's our leader, taking down the Company, revealing what we can do." Claire made a start at this. She didn't want them to go about it that way! But he continued.
"And here you are, their agent." He remarked rather pointedly.
"All I ever wanted was for my family to be safe." And with that a shot rang out, and with a close shave Peter deflected it, telekinetically, and let it drop softly to the ground. With that Peter began to move, slowly, so Bennett's gun wouldn't fire.
Determined and slowly getting out each word, he went on with the discussion. "At least I know now what side you're on. You own selfish side." And with a calmer gaze. "I love you, Claire. And as long you have an uncle, he'll try to make it better." He broke his second window, flew for the third time today and left.
And all they could do was look at the jet stream, thoughtful on the words of the empath. The family rushed up, but the two were wordless to explain it.
Gabriel Grey was on the highway. But this ugly means of transport would soon be no longer needed. How easy would it be, he mused, to kill a man in a coma?
One other person watched the goings-on from afar, maybe from too far, in the Bennett bushes. And took particular care to watch the end. West spoke to himself. "I thought I shot you. But no worries. You won't reveal me or Claire to anyone!"
Elle attended to Molly and kept an eye of the sleeping form of Maya while Mohinder left to get something at Mr. Mendez's loft. Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up, smirking as she saw the caller ID.
"Daddy?"
"Elle, dear. Please. Come back. Without you my life is dead. And recently, the Company has fallen."
With a smug glance at who lay on the bed and the girl who drew in her notebook nearby, she responded. "Fallen? Not yet, Daddy. I think I've found us a perfect weapon, and a compass to go with it."
END OF CHAPTER ONE
Next, on Heroes.
A shot of Hiro, in a cave. "Adam Monroe?"
A shot of Claude, "Poor Victoria Pratt."
A shot of Ando, in his cubicle, on the phone. "A promotion?"