On the Crossroads of Destiny
"A child is born to innocence. A child is drawn towards good. Why then do so many among us go so horribly wrong? What makes some walk the path of darkness while others choose the light? Is it will, is it destiny? Can we ever hope to understand the force that shapes the soul? To fight evil, one must know evil. One must journey back through time and find that fork in the road, where heroes turn one way and villains turn another."
Manhattan, New York
September 9th, 2014
Water dripped steadily from the pipes creating a soft pitter-patter against the gravel and the dank air smelled of new rain.
Raucous noises floated into the streets from the bars and clubs on either side of the rundown street.
In the past this place had once been the epicenter of the city, crowded with expensive shops and people, but it had steadily declined over the years to a derelict place filled only with drunks and addicts.
The city that never slept, seemed to hang in an eternal slumber.
Splash. Two shadows chased each other down the narrow alleys. One of them was a thin, dark-haired, man in his early thirties. The other a young, long-haired, brunette. Both of them were dressed in dark leather jackets and jeans.
Abruptly, the man turned down a narrow alleyway that ended in a dead end, the way forwards blocked by a rusted metal fence. Without breaking his stride, the silent figure leaped the fence so skillfully and agilely that he seemed to fly for a moment before he touched down on the other side.
The brunette girl, however, slammed into the fence and swore. Gripping the metal tightly in her fingers, she began to climb, but the obstruction had already cost her a few precious seconds.
The other man had already pulled ahead. Pulling a gun from the holster in her belt she fired off a few rounds. One of the bullets grazed the man's leg, succeeding in slowing him down enough that she could make up some of the lag.
He had just ducked into an abandoned parking garage when she finally caught up to him.
"Freeze!" She shouted, her gun aiming steadily at the back of the man's head. "Or I swear to God I'll put a bullet through your brain."
Reluctantly the man obeyed.
"Hands where I can see them." She ordered. "Palms towards me, NOW." She shouted when the man hesitated.
He complied with a sigh. "It doesn't have to be like this, Claire."
The gun in her hand didn't waver. "Yes it does, Peter."
A tiny smile pulled at the corner of Peter's mouth. "No it doesn't. Why can't you see that you're on the wrong side?"
Tears pricked in Claire's eyes, but she managed to keep her voice steady. "Don't turn around." She ordered.
Peter ignored her. Slowly he began to shuffle, trying to turn his head so he could see her.
"Don't think I won't shoot you!" Claire repeated. Peter froze, but he was more amused than afraid.
"Come on, Claire, we both know you won't shoot me. If you really wanted to, you would have shot me a long time ago." Slowly, he began to turn again.
"I said don't move!"
Again, Peter ignored her, speaking in a calm soothing tone. "Claire I could have done a thousand things to get away from you. I could have flown, teleported, turned invisible…"
"Then why haven't you?" She whispered.
He had turned around completely now and their eyes met. There was a sad smile on his face. "I only run from you, Claire."
The stray lock of his hair still hung in front of his eyes. The only difference between this Peter and the Peter Claire remembered fondly was the nasty scar that ran across his face.
"You shouldn't have come after me alone, Claire." Peter continued. "You should have called Sylar."
Claire snorted. "And have you two destroy another city block in the aftermath? No thanks. Besides, I didn't think you'd be in such a hurry to see Sylar again. He's not too happy with you. The last time you two met, you left him buried in the ground with a stake in his head."
Peter shrugged, unperturbed.
"Turn yourself in, Peter. Let's end this." Claire said, but it was an empty plea.
"Don't you understand, Claire, that I'm trying to do the right thing?"
"And I suppose things are better this way? Out in the open?" Claire retorted angrily. "You're the one that made them hate us in the first place!"
"What's the point of having these powers if we can't play God?" Peter asked.
"We're not gods, Peter, you're not God!"
"No, but I might as well be." He replied. "Come to my side, Claire. We could do great things together."
The Peter she knew would never say such things. He would never have hurt so many people. He would never have hurt her.
"Go to Hell." She breathed. And then Claire pulled the trigger.
The bullets froze in the air and hovered there. Claire's breath caught in her throat.
Peter looked disappointed. "Then I'm sorry I have to do this, Claire." With a flick of his hand, he sent the bullets careening into her body.
The force of the impact pushed her backwards, but the wounds were already healing before she even hit the ground.
"Good-bye Claire." Peter said, and the next second he had vanished in a burst of wind.
In the silence, Claire finally let the tears fall and a few desperate sobs escaped her. When had things gone so very, very wrong?
.
.
.
Atlanta, Georgia
Five Years Ago
Peter was never quite the same again after he took Sylar's power.
Although he did manage to overcome the whole cut-open-people's-skulls-to-discover-their-secrets-urge, Peter had developed a hunger for the truth and he no longer had any tolerance for lies and secrets.
It would sometimes explode out of him at the strangest times and Peter became obsessed with the truth, with how things worked, so much so that he was no longer himself.
And then Claire began to notice little things about Peter. The fact that he started to pick up strange little habits along with the superpowers that he came across. That he began to change as he grew more powerful.
Months after she first joined the Company to hunt down dangerous specials, Claire was partnered with Peter to go after a man named Knox who gained power from fear and who had gone on a killing spree in Atlanta.
The "one of them, one of us" policy hadn't worked too well. Both of their "normal" partners were currently lying holed up in a hospital bed nursing bruised ribs.
And against her better judgment, Claire had relented when Peter convinced her to continue with the operation.
They found Knox packing his bags in a rundown motel room after Peter had blown down the door.
Immediately Knox pulled out a gun and aimed it at them, snarling.
Claire held her hands up in false surrender. "Give it up, Knox." She said. "And no one else has to get hurt."
Knox was undeterred. "You can't stop me, precious." He snarled, showing his teeth. Grinning, he cocked his gun. "Are you afraid?" He asked. "Such a pretty little thing, it's a shame to die young."
Claire smirked.
Knox frowned and he took a deep breath through his nose. "You…you're not afraid." He said, suddenly uncertain. "Why aren't you afraid?"
Beside her, Peter took a deep breath through his nose. "But you are." He said, mockingly, cocking his head.
The gun in Knox's hand began to shake. Without warning he fired. Claire thought Peter would stop the bullets in the air, but instead he let them pass through his body, stumbling slightly from the impact and watched with a twisted amusement as Knox's eyes widened at the sight of Peter's body regurgitating the bullets.
"What's wrong? Never felt fear before?" Peter taunted. He took another deep breath through his nose, scenting the air. "Your fear's giving me a rush." He murmured, prowling closer like a predatory lion.
"Peter?" Claire whispered, uncertainly.
Suddenly Peter lifted Knox and pinned him to the back wall, choking off his air supply.
"Peter, what are you doing?" Claire hissed.
Peter ignored her, his fingers squeezing tighter. "That's right…" he cooed. "Feel that fear. The impending death, just like all those people you killed…"
Knox's face was turning blue, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.
"Peter!" Claire screamed, reaching out to grab his arm.
He released Knox at her touch, letting the man slump to the ground unconscious. Peter was breathing hard, his eyes wide in horror.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." He said, backing away quickly. "I just…lost it for a moment."
Claire looked him at warily, but reluctantly put it out of her mind as she proceeded to tie up Knox. But when she cast a quick glance back at Peter, he was looking down at her with a hungry expression in his eyes. Except he wasn't really looking at her, he was looking through her and it sent a chill up her spine.
Rooftop
Manhattan, New York
January 1st, 2009
She found him on the rooftop, alone, at dusk.
Below them, the lights of New York were twinkling in and out like millions of stars in the universe. Fireworks were still going off in the distance.
"Hey," Claire said, sitting down beside Peter on the ledge and dangling her feet over the edge. Neither one of them was afraid of the fall. "Why weren't you inside for the New Year's Countdown?"
Peter shrugged and wrapped his arm around her, pulling Claire close to his warmth to stop her shivering. "I wanted some fresh air…to think."
Claire smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder and breathing in his scent.
"Think about what?" She asked.
"Lots of things…" Peter said evasively.
Claire, sensing that he didn't want to talk, wisely let it go.
Maybe she should have pressed him though. Maybe then she could have stopped him, convinced him not to continue down that path. She should have noticed sooner that he was suffering, because later he would confess so many things that he had been thinking to her, long after it was too late:
"How is it possible that there are hundreds of thousands of people in this city and yet I feel so alone?"
"Why does it feel so good to fly up here and look down on the city at my feet?"
"What's the point of having these powers if I can't use them to make a difference?"
But Claire didn't notice, didn't ask. She only hummed quietly and told him that Nathan was looking for him. And together they sat and looked down on the city beneath their feet.
Petrelli Mansion
New York
July, 2009
She walked in on the two of them conspiring together.
Dr. Suresh and her father, Nathan. They were leaning close to each other, whispering softly, but both immediately stopped talking when she walked in.
"Hey…I was wondering if I could talk to you about Pet-" Claire paused when she saw them both staring at her. "What." She asked suspiciously. There was a mess of papers on the desk between them. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Nathan said, sharing a look with Suresh. "We were just talking."
"About…" Claire prodded.
"Dr. Suresh's research." Nathan said, standing taller as if daring her to disagree. "What was it you wanted?"
Claire frowned. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about Peter…in private."
Nathan looked pointedly at Dr. Suresh, "I'll just be a minute." He said and led Claire outside, closing the office door behind him.
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Nathan asked.
Claire shifted hesitantly. "It's Peter…I don't know if you noticed, but he…seems on edge lately. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Nathan's eyes darkened. "Don't worry about it Claire, it's probably just stress." He dismissed her with a pat on the shoulder. "I'm kind of busy, so if you don't mind."
"Nathan." Claire said. "What are you hiding from me? What are you and Dr. Suresh really planning?" She demanded.
Nathan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Claire, whatever you think we're doing that's not it."
"I thought we agreed no secrets."
"This is different." The senator retorted.
"Is it about Peter?" She whispered, her entire being filling with dread.
Nathan flinched and ushered her into the office. "Listen to me, Claire. I don't want you to get involved. But I don't want Peter hearing about this even less…" Nathan sighed. "Can you keep a secret?"
Wordlessly, Claire nodded.
"Do you understand how Peter's power works, Claire?" Mohinder asked. She shook her head. "He's something like a sponge, absorbing the powers of those that come near him. Peter literally rearranges his DNA to accommodate for their power."
"It doesn't come without risk." Nathan muttered. "He passed out once from absorbing too many powers and ended up in a coma for two weeks."
"I've been fascinated by Peter's power, by its possibilities." Mohinder continued. "And it's recently come to my attention that absorbing too many powers, rearranging his DNA too many times, is bound to have side effects."
"What do you mean?" Claire breathed.
Mohinder sighed. "I think that…Peter is in danger. At the rate he's going, he'll absorb too many powers and there has to be a limit. I think it's very probable that if he rearranges his DNA too much…he'll suffer side effects."
"What kind of side effects?" She asked fearfully.
Dr. Suresh looked tired. "I don't know. It could be so many things. He might lose control of his power or his body might shut down again like it did before or…there could be psychological effects."
"Psychological…"
"His DNA might become so twisted that…he isn't the same person anymore…his mind and personality will…deteriorate." Mohinder said dejectedly.
Claire felt numb and full of denial. "Are you saying he's going to…go crazy or something?" She accused.
"No! Not necessarily…but there are huge amounts of risk. He's absorbed so many powers…if he overloads now…what's going to stop him from going nuclear again?" Mohinder asked.
"You can't tell me you haven't noticed the signs, Claire." Nathan protested. "Peter's…changed. He's quieter, more withdrawn, more impatient. You've seen him on missions you understand. He's being reckless. He came to me talking about exposing us, how it would be easier. I'm worried about him."
"There's nothing wrong with that…" Claire protested feebly. But she wasn't convincing herself. Peter seemed…darker than the young man who had saved her lifetimes ago in Odessa, Texas. "What are you going to do about it?" Claire asked.
"Mohinder's working on a cure." Nathan said. "A way to…remove Peter's powers."
"He won't support that." She said.
"I know…which is why you have to keep it a secret, Claire. You know we don't have a choice…this might be the only thing that can save his life. Claire, please." Nathan begged.
This felt wrong in so many ways. "I won't tell him." She promised.
Nathan relaxed, relieved. "Thank you, Claire."
"He won't forgive you for this."
"No? I'm hoping he will…once he's in a better state of mind." Nathan remarked.
Company Headquarters
Outside New York City
September, 10th, 2014
"Damn it, Claire, we've gone over this thousands of times. I told you—specifically ordered you—not to go after him alone."Noah Bennet shouted, slamming his fist into the metal table for emphasis.
But his glasses were slightly crooked from the tirade. That and the superimposed image of a loving, clueless, paper-selling, father from her memory kept Claire from taking him too seriously.
"What would you have me do? Leave it to someone else?" Claire retorted.
"You should have called Sylar." Noah said coldly. "Or at least some kind of back-up."
"It was on a whim. I wasn't sure he'd be there."
"He could have killed you, Claire." Noah said.
"I'm invincible." She said bitterly.
Noah bent down until he was level with his daughter's face and looked Claire straight in the eye. "No…you're not. I'm worried about you. He's killed everyone who ever got in his way…who's to say he won't kill you, too?"
"It doesn't matter anyways," Claire snapped. "I'm not a child and I don't need your protection or your permission anymore!" And without waiting for a response, she stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Out in the barren, bunker-like, halls she ran into Niki.
Niki Sanders ran a hand through her loose blond hair and smiled knowingly. "Don't be too mad at him." She said, straightening out some of the creases in her gray tank-top. "He's only worried about you."
"Yeah? Well he's been worried my whole life. I think it's about time he started letting me take responsibility for myself, don't you?" Claire demanded, storming down the hall.
Niki kept pace with her easily. For a moment there was only silence and then: "What did he tell you?" She asked.
"What?"
"What did he tell you?" Niki repeated.
"He didn't tell me anything." Claire said.
"Oh please, do I look like an idiot to you?" Niki asked, amused. "Whenever you catch him alone, he always tells you something. What was it this time?"
Claire sighed. "He wanted me to join him, same old same old…"
"And you've heard it all before." Niki finished.
Claire nodded.
"You know, Claire. I know Peter, I believed in what he was doing once."
"I know the story." Claire said. "You were one of his allies. You helped him, before everything went sideways that is."
Niki sighed. "I put my faith in him, in his vision. But he let me down. He always lets you down, Claire."
"That sounds like something Nathan would say." Claire said bitterly.
"Maybe." Niki replied. "Nathan knew him better than anyone. Maybe if he was here…" She closed her eyes briefly. "Peter was never the same after Nathan died."
"I know."
"He lost it." Niki continued. "Lost track of the right path."
"Trust me," Claire said. "I know."
Rooftop
Manhattan, New York
3 years ago.
"I have a love-hate relationship with rooftops." Peter said bluntly. He was holding a rock in his hand, squeezing it so tightly that bits of dust were falling in a pile at his feet. And then suddenly without warning he chucked the rock as hard as he could at the wall, and with his super strength left it lodged in the brickwork.
Peter was panting, that stray lock of hair dangling in front of his face. Sobbing, he cupped his face in his hands and turned towards the starless sky, rubbing his face vigorously.
"Did you know that I first flew on this rooftop?" Peter asked. Claire stood silently at the door, too afraid to say anything. "With Nathan…He was standing right there and I was here…and I…I was yelling at him to tell me the truth…and suddenly I was flying." Peter continued. "He was the one, who taught me how to throw a baseball. Did you know that? That's normally something a father does, but my dad was never around…so Nathan taught me. He would throw the ball wide or extra high and I would yell at him to throw it right at me…" Peter laughed bitterly. "And he would say 'That's not how it'll come at you in a game, Pete.' "
"I get that it hurts." Claire whispered. "I do."
"No…No, you don't,"
"Peter, don't shut me out." Claire begged. "We can talk about this."
But he had already taken off into the sky.
Months later, he would reveal all of them to the world.
Company Headquarters
Outside New York City
September, 10th, 2014
"Hey Pom-pom," Elle said. She was leaning against the door to Claire's room, grinning.
Claire was in no mood for Elle's games. "Get out." She snapped.
Elle pouted. "I heard you ran into Peter today." She teased. "What was that like?"
She knew what Elle was really asking, knew that what she was about to say would be meaninglessly hurtful, but full of spite she couldn't resist. "Why?" Claire asked. "Were you hoping that he'd ask about you?"
Elle flinched. But Claire continued mercilessly. "Oh, grow up, Elle!" She spat. "I don't know how they can keep you around knowing your connection to Peter. Don't tell me you still have feelings for him even after everything." Was she really talking about Elle anymore?
Elle's hand drifted to her stomach. And this did not escape Claire's notice. "It's his child isn't it?" She accused.
"No!" Elle protested. "It's Gabriel's…We…"
"It's his child and you haven't told Sylar yet, have you? What do you think he'll do when he realizes you're carrying Peter's child?"
Elle looked on the verge of tears and Claire almost felt regretful. Almost.
"He loved me, Claire." Elle said.
"He told me he loved me, too. Once. Who do you think he was lying to?" Claire winded up for one last curveball. "Do you know what they're going to do with that child once it's born?" Claire asked. "Peter Petrelli's child, the only one powerful enough to stop him. They're going to train that child, feed it powers, to kill its own father."
Elle slammed the door behind her. And Claire was left alone with her own bitterness.
Washington D.C.
September 11th, 2011
The TV news was running constantly, programs on the new specials phobia sweeping the country. The government was taking action and ordering all specials to register themselves. At that point, there were already rumors flying around that specials were being shipped to containment facilities in the Midwest.
Claire padded out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body and another wrapped in her hair, and sat down on the couch of the five star hotel room where she was staying. She was due to meet with Angela Petrelli and her father later about their options.
Nobody had seen or heard from Peter in a few months.
Sighing, Claire ran a brush through her brunette locks. It was such a shame to lose the blonde hair that she'd been born with, but she didn't have a choice. In order to remain safe, she had to disappear.
Absentmindedly, Claire flipped through the channels, trying to find anything that wasn't about the specials crisis.
Later, she would become an avid agent of Pinehearst, the face of Company resistance, when prosecution of specials became less covert and more blatant-disregard-for-human-rights. When resistance became all out war, they would all be labeled terrorists.
Peter would emerge as the leader of a terrorist faction bent on giving people with powers the respect and freedom they deserved. Watching him speak to his followers about their god-given rights, about their superiority, about their destiny to conquer would make her sick.
By the time they tried to stop Peter, it would already be too late. Mohinder would be dead and along with him any hope of a cure. Hiro would be incapacitated, leaving Peter the only time traveler.
But for now, Claire sat ignorant, toweling her newly brown hair dry.
Company Headquarters
Outside New York City
September 11th, 2014
The small bunker was crammed full of the only remaining resistance to Peter's autocratic hand.
A small, measly, number. These were the only ones left who were able to fight and Peter already possessed most of their powers.
Daphne sat in a corner huddling with Matt Parkman, their three year old daughter bouncing on her lap.
West was whispering with Monica, his arm in a sling from a scuffle in Denali last month. And as she watched, Claire saw them lean in and kiss each other passionately.
Micah was nowhere to be seen. But Claire suspected he was holed up in his room, mourning. Today was the anniversary of Molly's death after all. Peter had killed her so that the Company would never be able to find him and her death had devastated Micah. They'd just started dating.
Sylar, Angela Petrelli, and her father were conversing in quiet tones at the front of the room. Angela must have had a dream. Claire thought. And from the look on her face, it wasn't good news…but then again, when had it ever been?
Grimly, Noah stood up and the entire room fell silent. "Angela Petrelli has had a dream." He began, "And we have reason to believe that Peter's decided on his next objective."
A collective silence descended upon the room.
"We think…he's going to go after the Haitian."
A ghost of feeling stirred in Claire's chest. No one had heard from the Haitian since the government had fallen at the battle of Raleigh. She'd assumed he was dead. But if he was simply in hiding and Peter had finally found him…
"If Peter gets his hands on the Haitian's power, he'll be unstoppable." Sylar said, rising from his seat. Claire tried not to be disgusted by how comfortable everyone was around him. Sylar was a hero now, the only one with enough power to hold his ground against Peter. He commanded attention and confidence. "He'll be able to block the powers of anyone who comes near him and we won't stand a chance anymore."
Fearful whispers swelled from the crowd. Somewhere a child began to cry.
"No matter what. We have to stop Peter." Noah finished. "We'll be assembling a team right away. It's all hands on deck for this operation."
A hand rose from the crowd. "Even if Peter hasn't absorbed our power yet?" There were a few among the Company ranks who had powers Peter had yet to absorb. They were rare but coveted. These people were rarely sent on outside missions for fear that it would make Peter more powerful.
"Everyone." Noah said grimly.
Sylar's eyes searched the crowd until they landed on Claire. He gestured for her to step out with him and reluctantly she obliged.
While Noah made battle preparations, Claire followed Sylar out into the hallway. "What do you want?" She asked.
"I heard about what you did to Elle today," He said, "It was cruel."
"What does it matter?" Claire snarled. "You can tell when she's lying. You know the truth! How can you forgive her?"
Sylar looked at her carefully and Claire resented the way he studied her as if he was trying to see what made her tick. "I love Elle." He said. "I know she's not perfect, we've all made mistakes, done some horrible things. How can I resent her for hers?"
Claire closed her eyes and pictured all the horrible things Peter had ever done, all of the people who'd been lost, the battles that'd been fought. Candice, Maya, Gretchen, DL, Edgar, Amanda, Alex…
"Are you saying we should forgive Peter for everything he's done?" She retorted.
Sylar sighed. "No…but I know what it's like to be controlled by a hunger for power."
Claire turned to go back inside.
"Claire, I know you can't forgive me," Sylar pleaded. "I don't blame you. But don't lose yourself in all this hate. It's not going to get you anywhere."
She ignored him and stormed back into the council room where Noah, Niki, and Matt were discussing tactics.
"We should contact Ando." Matt said. "If he gives Sylar a jolt, it might be enough to hold Peter's attentions and buy us the time we need."
"I've tried." Noah said. "You know Ando gave up the hero lifestyle a long time ago. He won't leave Hiro's side anymore."
"Well what do you suggest then?" Matt snapped.
"Let me go." Claire interrupted.
"Claire…" Noah began.
"I can distract Peter." She continued, more coldly than she felt. "He still has a shred of feeling for me."
"Peter can read minds. He'll know if you're lying." Matt said.
"I know. But he can't take the Haitian's power unless he knocks out Rene's power blocking first. You only need a little time." She was looking at her father when she said this. "Give me the chance."
Noah sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was tired, Claire knew, they were all tired.
"I guess we don't have a choice."
Kirby Plaza
New York City
September, 2014
"How the heck did the Haitian manage to stay hidden right under Peter's nose?" West asked.
"Shut up, West!" Someone else hissed.
They were on stakeout, on the roof of the building across from Kirby Plaza. It seemed like forever ago that the Heroes had come together here to take down Sylar. Ages ago that Peter had stood in that square below, asking her to shoot him. If she had…would life have been better?
"Are you ready for this?" Sylar asked.
Regardless of her doubts, Claire nodded.
Sylar gave the nod.
It was chaos.
Claire ran breathlessly through the empty hallways. She had lost Sylar in the chaos. She had lost everyone in the chaos.
Ahead of her the hall was littered with bodies. One of them looked suspiciously like West, but Claire didn't stay long enough to look closely. Tears tried to spring into her eyes, but Claire pushed them down mercilessly.
This was no time for weakness. She had to stop Peter. Her and only her.
When Claire turned the corner she froze in horror at what she saw: Peter, soaked in blood, leaning over the mutilated body of The Haitian.
"Hello Claire." Peter said conversationally.
"Peter…what have you done?" She whispered.
He seemed to just notice The Haitian's body at his feet. "What I had to."
"Why." Claire sobbed. "All of this…why?" It was what she could never voice before. But it was all over now. Not even Sylar could stand up to him after this.
"Invincibility?" Peter asked. "Maybe it was for the power?"
Claire scoffed.
"Did I ever tell you about Lydia?"
She couldn't believe he was saying this now.
"Who's Lydia?"
"She had the power to look into a person's soul and see their most secret desires." Peter said, stalking towards her. "She looked into mine…and do you know she saw?"
Claire shook her head.
"Nothing." He said. "She couldn't see anything."
They were almost nose-to-nose now. "I had to do this Claire," He whispered, "Because I needed to see what it would feel like." One of his hands caressed her cheek. "I needed to know."
He picked up one of the glass shards off the floor and cut open her cheek with it, watching with satisfaction when the wound continued to bleed.
"Last chance, Claire, to change sides." Peter offered, wiping his hands clean on his shirt. "I always thought you were special."
"I won't ever join you." Claire spat.
"A pity." Peter said. He whispered something softly in her ear and then brushed past her into the hallway.
Blood from the body was soaking into the floor. Outside she knew, Peter would be ending Sylar and the remaining pockets of resistance. The world was already falling into chaos.
Claire finally relented and let the tears fall. She'd been a fool to think something of the old Peter remained.
Any governments that still stood would soon fall. All the remaining specials would be forced to live in terror and fear. Anyone who stood a fighting chance against Peter, anyone he deemed a threat, would be killed.
And to think all of this was started by a dreamy boy who wanted to save the world.
What was the last thing he had said to her, again? Oh that's right… It's going to be a Brave New World.
The End.
