This story is a bit on the AU side, running on the premise that Gabriel/Sylar escapes with Peter from Pinehearst during Eris Quod Sum. For readers of Storm Clouds Gathering, don't worry. I'm not through with that one yet.

"They kept going because they were holding on to something." --Lord of the Rings

Chapter One

Gabriel Gray realized with sudden, painful clarity that he loved his brother. He glanced at Peter's sleeping form and sighed. Mere days ago, he would have scoffed at the impracticality of family love, of brotherly love. And now…

He would do anything to protect his brother.

The train car bumped and rattled over the tracks, and Gabriel worried that the jolts might awake Peter from his sleep. But they did not. That worried him, too. Peter had been hurt in the escape… Could his injuries be severe?

Gabriel frowned. How stupid of him not to think of that earlier. He studied his brother's face, noting the way Peter winced in his sleep every now and then.

"I'll take care of you, Peter," Gabriel promised.

"I'm coming!" Phoebe Agnew called as the knocking continued at her apartment door. Whoever it was, they were growing impatient. Phoebe struggled into a pair of jeans, nearly knocking a picture off the living room wall in the process. "Be there in a minute!" She jerked a soft gray shirt over her shoulders and swiftly began to button in. As soon as she was decent, she ran to the door and peered through the peephole. A man and a woman were standing in the hallway. She did not recognize either of them.

Keeping the chain lock in place, Phoebe opened her door slightly. "Yes? What is it?"

"My name is Matt Parkman," said the man. He had honest eyes, and Phoebe could taste the truth in his voice. "I'm here with a message for you."

"Come in," Phoebe said warmly, sliding open the chain lock and pulling back the door. Matt walked into the apartment, followed by a small, quirky blonde.

"Daphne," said the blonde quickly, not even looking at Phoebe. Her eyes were roaming the apartment. "Nice digs. You must read a lot."

"I do," said Phoebe, shutting the door gently behind her guests. She brushed a strand of strawberry blond hair over her shoulder. "So… What's my message?" For some reason, Daphne's presence made her nervous. There was a shadow of deception there… Phoebe shrugged off the worry. Maybe Daphne wasn't a natural blonde or something.

"You work with Primatech, don't you?" Matt asked, studying her closely.

"I did some freelance work for them." She smiled slowly. "And you could tell if I was lying, couldn't you? You're a mind reader, right?"

Matt blinked. "Well… yeah. How did you know?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Truth likes me. Sometimes it lets me know where it lies." She grinned at her own pun.

So did Matt. "Truth lies… That's pretty good."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You people are slow. Come on, Matt. Give her the message."

"Angela Petrelli is in serious trouble," said Matt, running a hand through his dark hair. His eyebrows raised, shifting his open face into an expression of bewilderment. "I don't know what's going on, but everything has changed. I didn't trust her before. I still don't, but…" He sighed and met Phoebe's eyes. "She needs help. And she asked for you."

"For me?" It was Phoebe's turn to raise eyebrows. "I haven't spoken to her in months. What's going on?"

"She's in a coma," Matt said. "And her kids are in some weird situations."

"Her kids?" Phoebe crossed her arms. "You mean the Petrelli boys?"

"Yes…" Matt shook his head as if in wonder. "All three of them."

"All three of them?" This was getting stranger and stranger. "I thought she only had two--Peter and Nathan."

"Well there are three," Daphne cut in. "Gabriel Gray--formerly know as Sylar--is Petrelli brother number three. Well, technically number two if you're looking at things chronologically."

"And they're in trouble, allof them, from what I gathered," said Matt.

"Doesn't surprise me," said Phoebe, shaking her head. "There's a wicked stubborn streak running through that family."

"Yeah, and those guys get it honest," said Matt. "Their dad's still alive."

Phoebe's green eyes widened, and her voice came out breathless. "What?"

"Arthur Petrelli is alive," Daphne explained. "He's been alive the whole time. And he's trying to either take out or manipulate each of his sons."

There was truth in that statement, but there was something untruthful behind Daphne's eyes. Phoebe studied the other girl closely.

Daphne looked away from Phoebe nervously. "So… Can we get to Primatech now?"

The train was picking up speed.

Gabriel was trying not to fall asleep. He glanced once again at Peter, frowning worriedly. In the scuffle caused by their escaped, Peter had been flung roughly into a wall by a telekinetic guard, then smacked around quite a bit by a guard with a nightstick. Despite this, Peter had fought valiantly for his freedom. Before falling asleep in the baggage car, he had groggily told Gabriel, "I'm not going to just sit around and do nothing. I won't be worthless. If all I can do is take punches to buy time for somebody else to use their power, then that's what I'll do."

Gabriel believed him. It was in Peter's blood to be a fighter. Glancing down at his wrists, Gabriel reflected that it was in his blood, as well, his blood that was the same as Peter's… except that now, Peter's blood was powerless.

"What time is it?"

Gabriel glanced at Peter, who was sitting up with a grimace. "It's time for you to go back to sleep," he said firmly. "You're injured. You need rest."

"No I don't," said Peter with an insolent shake of his head. "I can heal. I--" He winced. "Oh crap. I forgot about that…" He drew in a harsh breath between his teeth and eased himself back down on the blankets. "Where are we?" he asked quietly, staring up at the ceiling of the boxcar.

"We're in baggage car number 11 of the Westbrook Rails' train from New York City to Westbrook, Maryland," said Gabriel matter-of-factly.

"I know that," Peter replied impatiently, turning his head to look his brother in the eyes. "I mean, how close are we?"

"Still hours away," said Gabriel. He frowned. "How are you feeling?"

"Not that great, to tell the truth," said Peter. "It's so frustrating. I'm not used to this--this--"

"Mortality?" Gabriel suggested.

"That's it. That's exactly it," said Peter. "I'm not used to this mortality anymore. I felt pain even when I had my powers, but it always went away." He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Peter, if you want, I can take you to a hospital," Gabriel suggested, wishing Peter would agree, yet knowing he wouldn't.

"No," said Peter firmly, keeping his eyes closed. "It's just a few bruises. I'm fine."

"Just a few bruises?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Just a few broken ribs and a minor concussion is more like it."

Peter opened his eyes and glared at Gabriel for a few moments, then sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "You're right. I am a little banged up."

"A little? Peter--"

"It doesn't matter, Gabriel," said Peter intensely. "What matters is that we find a way to stop--to stop our dad from destroying the world."

"You know… That is so like you, Peter," said Gabriel, shaking his head and smiling slightly. "I expected you to say something like that."

Peter grinned crookedly. "Get used to it."

"Angela?" Phoebe winced at the sight of her former boss. Angela Petrelli looked terrible, which was all the more shocking considering how much she cared about her appearance. "Angela, I know you can hear me. I'm here." She crossed the room and sat in the chair beside the older woman's bedside. "Matt Parkman says you need my help." She glanced over her shoulder at Matt, who stood in the doorway, shadowed by Daphne. "So… I'm here to help."

Gently, she reached out and took Angela's hand. "Show me the truth," she whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Show me what you want me to do."

And the truth came, images and words flashing into Phoebe's brain. Some of the truth was harsh and made Phoebe gasp. Some of it made her curious. Then Angela revealed her mission to her.

Phoebe frowned, her green eyes remaining closed. "Bodyguard? Me? A bodyguard?" she exclaimed aloud.

Then Angela silently impressed upon her the urgency of the situation, and Phoebe felt strongly that the urgency was real, was true.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why me?"

But Angela drew away then, and Phoebe opened her eyes and gently let go of the other woman's hand.

"So… What did she say?" Daphne asked from the doorway.

Phoebe glanced at the other girl, and a strong sense of deception and confusion came to her. She slowly shook her head. "It's a bit personal. All you have to know is that I have a mission."

"To be a bodyguard?" Matt asked incredulously.

"So it would seem," said Phoebe, standing and brushing off her jeans. She avoided Daphne's curious gaze and focused instead on Matt. "I'm going to be leaving soon, so… I'll give you guys my cell phone number, and we can stay in touch."

"Alright," said Matt with a friendly nod. "Just let us know if you need any help."

Phoebe glanced back at Angela, then, wondering at the woman's confidence at her. When she turned back to Matt and Daphne, she noticed that Daphne's eyes had also gone to Angela--and Matt's eyes were on Daphne. The truth hit her powerfully: Matt is in love with Daphne, and Daphne has a lot to hide.

Peter woke up in dim light, shivering from cold, his body aching from the beating he had received escaping his father's facility. His father…He sat up gingerly, drawing a blanket tightly around his shoulders. Everything was changing so quickly. The family he had once known was gone. In its place was a complicated mess. He glanced over at Gabriel, resisting the urge to think of the other man as Sylar. Gabriel was sleeping in the corner of the boxcar, sitting up against the wall.

Peter sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his rumpled dark hair. Everything was changing. He was beginning to like having Gabriel as a brother…

A sudden urge to cough raked at his lungs, and he tried to suppress it, not wanting to wake his brother. His brother… He had to smile at that. He never would have expected--The cough ripped out of him as soon as he stopped concentrating on stifling it. His lungs convulsed within his battered ribcage, sending sharp jolts of pain through his body with each breath and each cough.

"Peter, are you okay?"

Peter looked up with pain-blurred vision at Gabriel, who had crawled across the floor to his side. The younger brother's eyes widened. It was just so strange to see Sylar looking at him with concern. He tried to laugh, which made the coughing even worse. "I'm fine. I'm fine," he choked out, one hand covering his mouth while the other clutched at his ribs.

"You're a terrible liar," Gabriel remarked, his dark eyes round with worry.

Peter had to nod at that, rolling his eyes at his own self. Finally, the violent coughing ceased, and he sat doubled over on the floor of the boxcar, dragging in breaths with effort.

"Peter, do you need--" Gabriel reached out to touch him.

Peter held up a hand. "Just… Just let me breathe," he panted, feeling a sudden, panicky need to retain independence. He was a grown man, after all. He had saved the world a few times. He could handle a few cracked ribs. And anyway, his father had told him that his body was weakened from having his powers ripped away from it. Surely that was temporary. He would get over it.

"Alright, Peter," said Gabriel with reluctance in his voice, withdrawing his outstretched hand. "But… Maybe there's something I can do."

"No." Peter shook his head. "You don't have a healing power. Just--just… wait. I'll be fine once I get over this."

They both sat there in stillness for a moment, Peter breathing raggedly, while Gabriel watched tensely, as if he were using all of his self-control to keep from doing something, anything to ease his brother's pain.

The strangeness of it made Peter's head spin. Or was that the light concussion? Finally, the raging pain in his chest eased, and Peter breathed a heavy sigh and laid down on the blankets.

"Good-night, Peter," said Gabriel quietly.

Peter started to protest, started to say that he was not falling asleep, that he would stay up and keep watch, but he was too busy slipping into unconsciousness.

"Phoebe! Hello! Never thought I'd see you here again."

Phoebe turned around quickly, her blond hair swinging around her shoulders. "Noah! How have you been?"

Noah Bennet approached her with a wry smile. "Tolerably well. You know, the usual…"

"Baggin' and taggin' us advanced humans, huh?" Phoebe asked with a raised eyebrow.

Noah shrugged. "Something like that. What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing a favor for Angela," Phoebe explained. "She let me out of this place with my life and my sanity, so… I owe her."

"Does this have anything to do with her sons?" Noah asked, narrowed his eyes on her.

Phoebe tilted her head to one side to study him. "You wouldn't dare tell Arthur Petrelli, would you?"

Noah sighed. "No. Of course not. And I know you can tell that that's the truth."

Phoebe nodded slowly. "It's the truth. And that means I can tell you what's going on. Angela is sending me to some little town called Westbrook, Maryland to meet up with Peter and Gabriel. I'm supposed to be their bodyguard, for some odd reason. She said for me to keep them safe in Westbrook while awaiting further instructions."

"You know who Gabriel was, of course?" Noah asked, his forehead creased with worry lines.

Phoebe nodded. "He was Sylar."