Volume 4.07 "Rebirth"
A/N: D: ! As soon as I uploaded this my friend started reading it!? Gah! As anyone reading this may have guessed, this is my version of Jeremy Greer's 'death' from Heroes.
Because he didn't deserve to die.
Disclaimer: If Tim Kring ever decides to show up at my door with Mark L. Young in tow and asks to buy my story, YAY! Until then, our works are the same in very few eyes...
Chapter One "Crossing Paths"
It ended.
A tear slipped softly down her cheek, then another, and another.
No.
One seemingly endless ride, one vision, and the fastest sprint of her life later, she silently opened the medical box.
Chucking out one of the ice packs she had stuffed in it, she drew out one small syringe, contained inside a clear sterile packet.
Why was no one here? She'd seen them, why was nobody with him?
Don't ask, don't think.
She stabbed the needle into his heart.
He woke to the sound of bleeping.
...He... he woke?
What the-
"Go ahead, take your best shot, give me a reason."
Was it all just a bad dream then? Just a long, horrible nightmare?
He sat up abruptly, his back and the wires biting into his arms pulling at him to stay lying down.
As he watched Mr Bennet quietly speaking into a cell phone through the slanted blinds, he knew it was not.
No.
Why. Whyhe still here? Why wasn't his body laying in a morgue somewhere, where it could do no more harm?
He lay back down and stared at the ceiling, his face void of any discernible emotion, save for the anguish in his eyes.
She blinked slowly.
The tears had gone, in fits and bursts, hours ago. Damn them for returning.
She didn't know what happened now. She had never tried anything like this before. No matter what was wrong, and who was dying. It wasn't just that it would be like reaching into a television and pulling the strings of a puppet to how she wanted them, but the other things, too.
The feeling, feeling in her gut that said you can't win. You can't cheat death, not ever, so don't try.
The massive complications now. Was she a character now? Was she a shadow character? What would she do about others, now? Other situations like this? And him. Would he live now? Where would he live? Would he be happy? Would she meet him?
No. It was useless to think such things. Because it truly was like something on TV, or in a film. Not real.
At least, not for her.
But... there had been an exception before, many, in fact; but only one that was more than a glance, an accidental brush of the shoulder. She had always been strong enough to force herself to keep walking. And her phone, it was right there. All she had to do was call him.
Call Noah... call Noah…
"Mr Bennet?"
Noah looked up from the floor he had been staring at, deep in thought, in surprise. He could've sworn the boy curled over on his side had been sound asleep. He couldn't figure how he was able to lie on his side, what with the wires attached to various electronic devices around the hospital bed plugged into his arms, not to mention the massive injuries he'd been subjected to. How on earth he'd survived being towed down the back roads of Cainen he didn't know. Especially as despite being deceased at the scene where he had been found, he had -literally- unconsciously frightened the coroner's assistant.
"Yes, Jeremy?" A couple of years ago he would have immediately started spinning out a well-rehearsed story until René was able to wipe the subject's memory. Now, he had time to treat Jeremy like the young man he was, and to let him speak, instead of blankly deceiving him. Dear god he thanked whatever miracle had allowed Jeremy to survive. To add yet another to the long list of lost souls... and he could see good in this boy. This bringer of life and death. He could be... beautiful.
"What am I doing here?" Wondering what emotions Jeremy was going through right now, maybe a mixture of confusion and sorrow, Noah answered,
"You're in hospital Jeremy, you had an accident-"
"BULLSHIT!"The shriek only an adolescent boy could manage, full of an adult's anger and a child's desperation.
"Calm down Jeremy, you don't want the cops to hear-"
"And why is that, huh? Is it because they sent me off to be dragged down the streets?!"
"Jeremy! Calm. Down!"
He had been aware, then, of what happened. It was possible that he had fought, but Noah doubted it. After what happened with the mob outside the station, he'd seemed… blank, empty. Defeated. No, Noah reckoned he hadn't put up any resistance, using his ability or otherwise. As Noah watched the kid's body shake with the coughs that were a result of his yelling, he apologized. "I'm sorry, Jeremy. You're right, what happened to you wasn't an accident." Noah looked thoughtfully at the boy as with some difficulty he turned to lie on his back, his jaw clenched and his eyes sad. He wondered if he should mention that most of the town's police force was incapacitated or dead, and that nearly all the cops walking around in the hospital were actually out-of-towners, not the faces that must be in his head right now.
"You didn't answer my question," said Jeremy in a quiet, steely voice. Noah gazed at him for a second, gauging what to say next.
"I take it you mean that you assumed you would die?" He replied cautiously. Jeremy glanced at him and gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Well to all knowledge you were dead, were for over 24 hours," with a small sigh, Noah leaned forward in his chair. "A worker at the coroner's office discovered you out of… where you had been placed. She was very shocked when she realized your skin was warm."
That, Noah couldn't figure out. He doubted it was anything to do with Jeremy's ability. From his first encounter with the boy and the little he knew of the Company's information on Romika Tuan, to use the power the person had to be conscious, even if not conscious of what they were doing. Plus neither had shown any signs of healing themselves, through spontaneous regeneration or otherwise. Indeed, the only person he knew of to have ever truly come back from the dead without that ability was himself. This made him wonder what had happened to the amount of Claire's blood that the Company had gotten hold of. He knew that foul –or fair, depending on how you looked at it– play was most likely involved, and just wished that he could make any sense of Jeremy's survival.
"I honest to God don't know how you survived, Jeremy, but I've been a part of this lifestyle long enough to know not to look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, when there aren't any foreseeable drawbacks." He gave a small, warm smile.
"What does that mean," Jeremy croaked out in a calmer voice, without looking at Mr Bennet.
"Oh nothing, at least, nothing relevant to your current situation," Noah meant that.
"And what is my 'current situation', Mr Bennet?" Again, thinking before he spoke, Noah explained it as best he could.
"First you must understand that it is now the second day since... your release," he worded carefully, "During the subsequent time you were placed in the Coroner's office."
"If I was believed dead for so long shouldn't I have been dead?" Jeremy cut in.
"Let me finish please, Jeremy, I explained that I don't know how you survived." Noah paused. He was glad that the pain medication Jeremy was on was preventing him from staying angry for too long.
"Yesterday, at nearly quarter past twelve, Cainen Police Station was razed to the ground. No one knows how it happened, but it did. Three quarters of the police force were inside at the time, and now over half of them are dead. The three who survived are currently here, in the hospital, all in intensive care. Due to the suspicious nature of the incident, cops from neighbouring areas have stepped in. All they've got to go on are theories about ruptured gas pipes and the possibility of explosives, that someone could have caused it, plus the odd murmur of fault lines and sink holes, but they have no real leads. Of course, people have been saying about you and what they can guess or their minds can manufacture about your ability, but the doctor who is looking after you has verified that you couldn't have caused it due to the near-fatal wounds that caused you to appear dead." Noah waited, gazing at Jeremy, who still refused to look in his direction.
"That still doesn't say anything about my situation, Mr Bennet," he stated in a rough voice, obviously trying to ignore the pain in his throat, "That man... he died. I did it, in front of a lot of people. Sheriff Werner was gonna lock me up for it."
"That's... almost right, Jeremy," Noah slowly breathed in, then out. "For all intents and purposes Tracy and I believe you to be dead. He stopped suddenly, realising what he had forgotten to mention. "We were the ones that found your body." He watched warily as Jeremy finally faced him, his expression relatively blank, but his eyes still full of unabashed misery.
"Where?"
"In the middle of the road, barely thirty meters from the station."
"When."
"About two and a half hours after the sheriff said you were missing, soon after your release." Jeremy raised his head a little and dropped it back down on the thin, white hospital pillow, and exhaled.
Noah reminded himself of what he had been thinking earlier, about how much rest the kid was going to need to recover, and got up out of his chair. "You must still be exhausted, try and get some more sleep. We'll continue this conversation later." Grabbing his jacket from where he had hung it over the arm rest of the other chair in the room and putting it on, he added, "Don't worry Jeremy, I promise it'll be alright."
As he quietly clicked shut the door behind him, Noah couldn't help but remember how his last promise to Jeremy had ended.