Matt Parkman

Sacramento, California

The call had come in from somewhere near the area that Matt and his partner now searched. They traveled on foot, heading through backyards. The Sylar Safety site tells those who encounter the killer to head for the nearest possible public place, but it seemed that the person who called either didn't or couldn't.

Matt looked over at Bartholomew Ridge, his partner, who was in the process of leaping a fence into someone's backyard, and tried not to read his mind. It was a trust issue between them. Ridge has been known to bench press cars, so Matt tried to stay on his good side.

The two of them were complete opposites. Ridge was tall, buff, and very intimidating. He was black and British, which confused most people. Matt, on the other hand, was relatively short and portly, with an accent from what could have been New York.

Ridge gazed around, hoisted up by the fence, and then nodded to Matt. Something definitely happened here. "We'll split up," Matt said. "We'll cover more ground that way. Shout if you see anything."

"I'm not shouting with a serial killer around, especially one who would very much like to cut me open," Ridge said, a little undignified.

"You know what I mean," Matt said, heading away from his partner and ducking into an alley. He pulled his gun out, knowing that Sylar could hear his footsteps for miles away. The killer probably already knew they were there. He only hoped it wasn't too late to save the caller.

Matt, Ridge's voice filled his head, slowing him down. I'm at the caller's house. It's trashed, and there's a dead guy here. He isn't cut open, so I'm assuming he's still around here.

That's good, Matt sent back, not knowing if Ridge heard him or not. Even with the growing power, he was unsure if he could talk to people telepathically. He knew it worked on Molly, but he hadn't tried it on anyone else.

Matt stopped, expanding his mind to reach anyone in the area. He found a lot of dreams, mostly boring ones, but he did catch a few stray thoughts from the people at the gas station behind him. Then it came to him; the cold deadly voice of a killer. Damn it girl! Quit phasing!

He locked in on the thoughts and tracked them backwards. Sylar was somewhere near the gas station, with a girl. He sent a thought to Ridge, praying it made it, and took off at a near run. Whoever Sylar's victim was, she wouldn't have long.

He spotted them, across the street from the gas station; Sylar with his telekinetic grip on a young girls throat. Matt took careful aim, not wanting to hit the girl, and fired. Sylar's ear exploded in a mist of blood and cartilage. The killer screamed, losing his focus. The girl, back on her feet, phased through Sylar and ran over to Matt.

"You blew off my ear, Parkman!" Sylar screamed.

"You put four in me back at Kirby Plaza. Consider us even," Matt called back. Just shoot him, mister! The girl's thoughts shrieked at him from such a close distance. He knew she was barely keeping from screaming it aloud. Matt knew what would happen if he did, and waited until Ridge got there. If he didn't catch the thought, he definitely heard the gunshot.

Sure enough, there was Ridge, on the far side of Sylar. Ridge gripped the back of car and threw it at Sylar. Nice try, Sylar thought, knowing Matt would hear it. He spun, sticking both hands out and catching some ten feet away from him. Matt dropped to a shooter's stance and fired three times. Nevertheless, Sylar tossed the car at Matt. It hit the ground, skidding towards him rapidly.

There was a whoosh of air, and Matt felt arms wrap around his chest. Then, the car was on top of him and the girl. It was an odd feeling that came over him. He could see sparks lighting the seat on fire, but all he felt was a rippling cold wash through him, again and again, until the car had passed. He stood, still whole, still with the girl wrapped around him. "That was weird."
Ridge, who had come over to possible call in about a downed agent, said, "Tell me about it."

Sylar was gone.

Claire Bennet

Manhattan, New York

Lunch with Nathan wasn't as bad as she thought would have been. They talked about things other than Peter, which was a nice thing. He'd said that he was going to tell Heidi about Claire soon, and that was even better. Nathan even brought pictures of his boys, her biological brothers, and that was just awesome.

Staring out the window, she thought about that most. She had a picture of each them now, tucked in her wallet. Monty and Simon. She couldn't wait to meet them, maybe baby-sit so Nathan and Heidi could talk. She could tell, however, that there was a great sadness in Nathan. He seemed on the verge of tears the entire time, and he couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Claire, there's something I need to tell you," he said, and there was a note of finality in his voice that put her on edge. "I don't want to ruin what could be our best day ever together. Oh, who am I kidding? This was really our only day together." He pulled over, and started to weep.

"What is it?" Claire asked, hating to see anyone in the shape he was in, especially after they had tried so hard to make her smile all day.

"It's about Peter."

He ruined it. Claire never wanted so much to run from someone as she did right then. She'd rather be in a car with Sylar, telling him to be gentle when he ripped open her head and looked inside. Anywhere but here, that's all she could think about. She forced her mind on the pictures of her new brothers. She knew what it was about, and she knew that her father, Noah, had probably been trying to force this for some time. Noah tried on her almost every time he saw her.

"It's been four months, and no sign of him, anywhere," Nathan said, his arms shaking. "Not even Molly could find him. We have new threats the likes of Sylar and worse popping up all over the world, and we just don't have the resources to fight them and search for him."

"Shut up," she said. "Stop trying to justify it to me. You're giving up hope. You know Peter; you know what he can do. He can heal."

"Claire, he blew up. How can anyone heal from that?"

She opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Don't bother telling Heidi. If you can't have faith in your own brother, how can you possibly have faith in us?" She stormed off, fighting off her own tears. To hell with Nathan. She knew where she was, and could make it home on her own.

Kit Frost

Hart Center, New York

He sat in there chair, waiting. He knew what was coming, and it was kind of disappointing. He was accepted, but he wasn't being put on the Sylar case, the one that can make a career. Instead, they were putting him on hold until the next case came up, and that could take awhile. He couldn't see the future that far in advance.

Mr. Bennet entered the room, a smile on his face, a file in his brief case. "We have a partner for you, but she's a little different."

"If means I can get to work faster, than I'll take Mighty Mouse," Frost said. He ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach that meant his joke wouldn't take. He wouldn't be intimidated by this man.

Noah chuckled, however, disproving Frost's gut for the first time. Something was foul here, he just didn't know what. "I'm glad to hear that. We're a little spread thin around here when it comes to agents, what with all the new people manifesting abilities and Mohinder's research on them. We'll probably have an assignment for you this afternoon, at the latest. I think we should discuss something first. I'm under the impression that you don't really know what agents do."

Frost nodded. "I do. We're sent out to neutralize people with dangerous abilities."

Noah frowned. "That is it, but not entirely. Not every dangerous person is a threat. Most just don't know who to handle the gifts when they manifest. You're job is go, neutralize them, and bring them in so they can learn control in a safe environment. We have a facility in Australia, perfect for the more dangerous abilities."

So that was what made his stomach uneasy. It wasn't that he wouldn't have a case for awhile, but that his cases weren't what he expected.

"In fact, your partner is already on assignment, waiting for you in Phoenix," Noah said, picking the files out his brief case. He handed one of them to Frost. "She, too, is ex-military. That's on top of being ex-SWAT. Her name is Ashley Tisdale, but she goes by Ashe. She is the best match we could fit to you particular gift."

Frost opened the file, glanced at a picture of a young woman, maybe late thirties, with crimson hair and a lightly freckled face. Instead, he was more interested in what she could do. He found it, and then it was his turn to frown. "Bone manipulation?"

"Confusion is to be expected for the first few outings, Mr. Frost," Noah said, smile returning, "especially with such an unknown ability. Don't worry. It's her own bones she can manipulate, not yours. She has been known to just bone shards out of her wrists, or form a sort of armor. The good news is that her skin heals quickly when the bones just out of her. It's pretty disturbing the first time you see it, but you look like a man who can stomach it." He handed the second folder to Frost. "Your first assignment."

"This kid?"

Noah nodded. "With a single touch, he can destroy all of the cells in your body within minutes, and he is unable to shut it off, as of yet. We need you to tranquilize him and take him to the nearest Hart Center."

Knowing he couldn't refuse, Frost nodded.

"Good," Mr. Bennet said. "Dr. Crane will give you your equipment on the out."

Claire Bennet

Peter's Apartment, New York

She couldn't hold her tears all the way to the door, and she broke down in the lobby. The creepy next door neighbor was there, but he didn't look at her; he was on the phone, purposefully ignoring her. She stumbled up the stairs and fumbled with her keys, glad that Micah had gone back to DL this morning.

Claire burst into Peter's apartment and collapsed into the couch. She thought she would cry more with his stuff all around her, but it was comforting. That is, until someone knocked on the door. She knew it was Nathan, come to try and justify the reason he'd given up on Peter. She didn't want to hear his excuses, and ignored him.

A voice carried through, confusing her. "Claire?" It wasn't anyone she knew, and she wondered how they knew her name. She stood, wobbly in the knees, and went to the door, peeking through the peep-hole. It was the tow-headed neighbor. "Claire?"

Anger flooded through her until she though she would scream at him to leave, but she saw herself reaching out to the door and twisting the knob. He stood before, his hands in his pockets, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "What?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but see you crying on your way in," he said, blushing a little. "I just wanted you to know that if you needed to talk, there's always me. My father taught me to never let a crying girl cry alone."

"How do you know my name?"

"Ah, that," he said. "Again, I've heard it used a few times around here. That, and I recognized you're from the pictures of Kirby Plaza. I know you name wasn't mentioned, but you can find out anything online."

"Who are you?"

He shifted, nervously. "I'm you neighbor. My friends call me Smokey."

Claire began to feel foolish for being a little afraid of the guy. She stuck her hand out, and he shook it. "I'm just not in the mood to talk about it, especially with a guy I just met, but thank you anyway."

"Well, just so you know," he said, smiling big and blushing even more, "I'm almost always in. If you want to talk, you know where I'll be." He started to go, but then stopped. "Oh, there is a place where you can keep you anonymity and talk to anyone. It's online, kind of a MySpace for gifted people."

"Yeah, I know the place."

"Well, alright. Bye."

"Bye." She shut the door as he left, feeling slightly better for having meet the man, but she couldn't help but wonder. Could Peter have survived?

Martin Baker

Location Unknown

He was dressed impeccably in his white lab coat, perfect for a day at the office. He entered the bunker's lab at precisely ten p.m. Julie, the lab assistant, was on duty as usual. Often, he daydreamed about feeling her up on her desk, but shoved the thoughts away now that work called.

He was gifted in ways that made him an asset to the project. He could sense the powers of others if they used them within a certain radius of him. Each time he practiced, he expanded that radius; he was now up to three hundred yards. Julie, too, was gifted. Hers was minor compared to his, and he was not about to be bothered by knowing what it was.

Dr. Baker lifted the chart and gazed at his shrinking patient list. Two were one assignment for the boss. The other two were considered too dangerous for public use at the moment. Point Zero constantly slept in his room, with moments of extreme pain caused by seizures. With every seizure came the source of his gifts. Not the telekinesis with which he used to trash the office, but the beneath it. He showed great promise in the program.

Point One was found around the same time as Zero. One gave his name as Sylar, and that was good enough for the boss. Sylar had already acquired numerous abilities before he came to the project, and has since gained flight and spontaneous regeneration. According to the study, only three people left on earth had this ability naturally, and that would only last as long as Point Two didn't find them first.

Two gave his name as Legion, and was perhaps the strangest of them all. He was the first one to go out in the field, and contained a number of useful traits. Among them was telekinesis and pyrokinesis. He has since added enhanced strength.

Point Three was the least likely to go out in the field, as he could not actually obtain other abilities by any means. He was, however, likely to be the number one choice in the program, since his own ability can be used any number of ways. He didn't give a name, but he had one other that Point Three. Jonathan Baker, his name was, Martin's only child.

Jon had the ability to absorb, discharge, and manipulate energy. It sounded like a lot for one gift, but it was all the same. The energy he absorbed had to be discharged, and how it discharges is up to Jon. So far, the project has discovered that he can propel himself through the air, energize his or other peoples cells to increase healing speed, and stimulate his own muscles to give him enhanced strength and speed. They, however, lacked the full punch of someone with the gifts naturally.

Martin gazed in at the people in his care. Both were locked up, safe and sound. Day's work over, he thought to himself. Returning the chart to Julie's desk, he caught sight of a newspaper, an old one at that. On the front page, it covered the explosion four months ago. He smiled, thinking of the man who exploded. That was a candidate for the program if any existed.

Claire Bennet

Peter's apartment, New York

She sat at her laptop for the first time since Nathan gave it to her and logged on to the internet. It was one of the benefits of living in the apartment building; free internet. Well, it was included in the rent, and Noah paid that. She typed in the web address, waited a few seconds, and then she saw it. The same website as the one Micah was on. She clicked on create a new profile.

It asked no real personal information, like where she lived or her real name, but it did ask her power. It was so like gifted people could link up, it said. She gave her power, and then it asked for a screen name. It recommended she use one that kind of hinted at her gift.

Claire thought long and hard, then typed one in. It came from her conversations with the Haitian. Freakshow. It somehow seemed appropriate. She hit create profile, and soon she was staring at the way the world would soon see her; anonymously. She spent a few minutes hunting down Micah and Molly, sending them friend invites with a message telling them who she was. She was about to log off when someone sent her a message.

She opened it. It was from a guy who called himself Shade. Freakshow, huh? With a talent like yours, I'd call myself blessed.

Claire smiled. Unaware of what she was doing, she sent a message back. So what does your mean?

I can manipulate shadows, another message popped up.

That's cool, she sent right back.

After a minute, Claire thought that Shade wasn't going to write her back and was about to log off when he did. Yeah, well, it got me kicked off the football team, like my performance was enhanced by it.

Well, I'm sure it could be used to your advantage.

She sat there all night, talking about his gift and hers, how it affected their lives, and the things they were missing out on. The sun was coming up when Shade finally said he had to log off, with one last message. Think about changing your screen name. I refuse to call you that, and I don't recommend telling anyone your real name. Until then, I'll just call you Phoenix.

She smiled, logged off herself, and then went to get some sleep.