Do you have any idea how much of a bureaucratic and PR nightmare it would be, dealing with Claire's Ferris wheel stunt…? ^-^' I'm beginning to see that… XD So you get some realistic stuff along with the superpowers, but I'm trying to keep it to a minimum, I'm still all about the characters…

Anything you'd like to see? People you'd like in the story? Questions answered? Topics addressed? Let me know :) The story is at this time flexible enough that I might get it in... though I'm not making promises ^-^'

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Also, I made a banner for this story. If you want to see it, you can pop over to my LJ

http : / / sorion . livejournal . com / 466700 . html (remove the spaces)


Part 3

Gabriel jerked awake a lot sooner than he would have liked and blinked in the near darkness. It took him a moment to realise what had woken him, and he turned to look at Peter who slept soundly. Which only left... His eyes wandered to the glass door behind which somebody apparently had a hard time finding the restful part of sleep.

For a brief moment he considered waking Peter, since Claire without a doubt would have preferred being comforted by her uncle instead of Gabriel, but he discarded it. One of them at least should be properly rested by morning, since Gabriel had no illusions whatsoever about Noah's ability to actually stay away until noon, and he could deal with a pissed off Claire, once she got over whatever panic she was caught in right now and returned to the anger she always felt around him.

He silently padded to the other room and made sure to close the door behind himself again. Against his expectations, Claire was not tossing and turning, but a sheen of sweat covered her face, her breathing was laboured and her expression was pained.

"Claire?" he whispered, standing next to the bed. When she didn't react, he projected some calm again, before sitting on the edge of the bed and carefully laying a hand on her arm. "Claire..." he repeated, this time allowing some soft sound in his voice above a whisper.

Claire didn't awake suddenly, she much more drifted into wakefulness... and then startled when she saw who was with her.

"Shh," Gabriel said, taking away his hand. "You're at Peter's, remember? He's out there, sleeping." He twisted to the side so that she could see past him if she wanted. As of now, she didn't appear to want a whole lot; she looked only half-aware and confused, still caught in her dream. Gabriel tried a stab in the dark from the emotions he had received, while she was sleeping. "You're not in your dream anymore. You're not alone."

She wanted to stare at him accusingly, but all she managed was a lost look. "How did you know it was that?" she said, instead.

Gabriel smiled, crookedly, and took her hand that she for reasons unknown to her didn't pull away. "For one, it's not exactly surprising after what we were talking about, earlier, and for another... I'm an empath, and I know the feelings you were projecting."

Claire sniffed and used her unoccupied hand to rub her eyes. "Why are you awake, anyway?"

Gabriel smirked. "You were projecting quite loudly..."

Claire narrowed her eyes at him, both of them satisfied that the spark of anger had managed to return. Anything was better than the feeling of being lost and at fate's mercy. "Why didn't Peter hear, then? He's an empath, too," she grumbled.

Gabriel considered that. "I think he's mostly a tactile empath. I'm not. When he's awake, he can focus on people's emotions, even if he doesn't touch them. I guess now we know it doesn't work when he's asleep."

Claire pointedly looked at their joined hands.

"That's for your benefit..."

Claire wanted to pull away her hand at that, not at all liking the implication, but he tightened his hold.

"Claire, it's okay. It's okay to want comfort after a nightmare." He tilted his head. "Or during a nightmare, for that matter. Trust me, I know."

Claire bit her lip but let her hand where it was. "I don't want comfort from you, and I don't want..." Her breath hitched and she turned her head away from him.

"You don't want to appear weak in front of me?" he guessed correctly, but she didn't answer. "Had I thought you were weak at even a single point in time, trust me, you would have had your peace, because I certainly wouldn't have been interested in seeking you out."

She snorted, making him grin.

"Granted," he agreed, "that probably doesn't make things better..." Except that it did, in that moment. "Plus... you have seen me at my weakest. And you at least don't start killing people when you lose it."

Claire turned to look at him. "You asking my advice was 'you at your weakest'?"

Gabriel slowly shook his head. "No. When your dad told me that the Petrellis weren't my parents, on the other hand..." he let his voice drift off. "That one definitely makes the top three of Sylar's weakest."

At the time, Claire hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in the man, but she had been kind of preoccupied with the whole threat to her parents and being kidnapped thing. In retrospect... she probably could have seen a myriad of emotions crumbling in Sylar's expression.
"What were the other two?" she couldn't help asking into the quiet of the room.

He rubbed a thumb unconsciously over her hand he was holding, his eyes staring into nothingness. "Elle and your dad betraying me," he finally said. "Well, Elle, really. I didn't know that Noah was involved at the time." He sighed deeply and released the breath with a shudder. "The other time was when my mother died."

It had been Claire's understanding that he had killed her, but this didn't sound like it was quite so simple. It also didn't sound like Gabriel would have been all that happy to share that memory with her… even though she knew that he would have without question, had she asked. Instead, she asked something else that puzzled her. "Not your nightmare?"

Gabriel smiled, weakly. "No. That was…" he was searching for the right words, "… a nightmare, obviously. Definitely the worst. I mean, a telepath made it for me, so it would have to have been the worst possible scenario for me…" His eyes fell on their joined hands, and he seemed to notice absently what his thumb had been doing, but he didn't stop the steady, soft movement. "But I had deserved it." He looked up and into her eyes. "And it was… liberating, in a way. I couldn't kill, I couldn't be the monster I never wanted to be in the first place. In my worst fear, I found the time to heal."

Silent tears slipped from Claire's eyes and into the hair at her temple, but she didn't notice it.

"And now…" Gabriel tilted his head, keeping their eyes locked. "Now… I don't think it would be my worst nightmare, anymore." His own eyes watered. "What I fear the most… is becoming that monster again. I couldn't bear that, Claire."

Claire clasped his hand in return, now.

"Which is why Peter knows where my… 'off switch' is. At the first sign of Sylar re-emerging, I'd either take care of it myself, or he would have to do it."

Claire's grip tightened.

Gabriel smiled softly. "I'd tell you where it is, too, but I'd like to do some good, first…" he said, making her laugh a tiny, watery laugh.

"But it's not gonna happen," he added, firmly, softly and leaned closer. "I can feel that he's gone. The pull, those… urges. It's not there." He huffed, amused. "I'm still curious as hell, but that's not linked to killing people anymore, so… I really plan to stay around for you. You don't have to be afraid of being alone. I promise. Oh, and hey," he suddenly remembered, brightening, "you missed the part yesterday when Hiro went into the future and came back, actually offering me his power."

For some reason that Claire wasn't entirely sure about, that didn't surprise her, but merely made a tight knot in her chest snap and make her breathe a little more easily.

"That probably means I'll do okay," he added.

Claire shook her head. "But it's like you said. We have to watch all our loved ones…" she swallowed, "… drop like flies." Her voice broke at the end of the sentence.

Gabriel used his free hand to run it through her hair, carefully. "That would be hard on anyone. But, Claire, it won't be hard on them. We can be there for the people we love right till the end."

Claire listened to the words and even found them comforting… but… "You confuse me," she finally said. "Who are you?"

"If you give me the chance, I would like you to get to know me," he offered.

Claire blinked slowly, remembering Peter who apparently had gotten to know Gabriel, but unable to actually process what he was saying.

"You should sleep some more," he said. "Do you want me to help you?"

Falling asleep sounded nice enough. Facing more nightmares didn't. Her fingers tightened on his hand ever so slightly.

"I won't leave if you don't want me to," he said as a response to her reaction. "And don't think about what you should or shouldn't want. You can worry about that again tomorrow."

Claire smirked, sardonically, if tiredly. "I guess you owe me, anyway."

He chuckled, a low rumble, projecting the feeling of warm contentment, until her eyes closed, never letting go of her hand.

Without truly meaning to, Gabriel eventually nodded off as well. He was too exhausted to notice how invisible hands lifted him, carried him to the other side of Claire where there still was a little room and laid him down.

Both he and Claire kept a hold of the other's hand, effectively enfolding Claire in his arm.

Peter closed the door quietly behind himself – though not before allowing a small, benign smirk directed at the bed – and went back to sleep, spending a passing thought on hoping that Claire wouldn't freak out come morning.


Peter woke some hours later to a knock on the door. A quick look at the time made him groan. It wasn't even nine, yet. He first rolled his eyes and then out of bed, padded past his bedroom where he couldn't help but peek in and smile – apparently, the knock hadn't woken those two – and then to the door. Through the spyhole he didn't see Noah as he had expected but his frazzled looking mother. He opened the door.

"Hey, mom," he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "Everything okay?"

She waved him off, appearing something between busy and uncomfortable. "Of course. Things went as planned, I hear."

Peter nodded. "Yeah...?"

Angela nodded as well. "Good." She cleared her throat. "Noah will be here in a few minutes. You should wake those two," she nodded towards the other room, "before he sees them and starts shooting."

Peter rubbed his face, annoyed. "They're exhausted," he protested.

"Peter," Angela said, stepping close to him and pretty much staring him down. "Noah will freak out, shoot your friend, and make Claire really angry with her father. We currently have to reassemble some sort of functioning network, and we can't have two key players not speaking to each other for months."

Peter sighed.

"Did I make myself clear? You are all dealing with public relations now, and that is not something either you or Claire have any experience with. If you want your lives to work out, you need to know how to play the press and as a result the public." She paused. "You also need to be able to convince the public that you know what you're dealing with when it comes to Specials, or someone else deals with it for you."

"Are you talking about locking people with abilities up again?" Peter asked suspiciously.

"Not as a general rule, no." She straightened. "Even though that would have been easier than what this new situation forces us into. There will be more Specials coming out of the closet every day, now. People's friends, neighbours, family. What we need – and we need it fast – is a plan and the required network for support, counselling, training and, yes, if absolutely necessary, detainment."

Her eyes wandered out of the kitchen and to the bed she could see through the glass wall. "Wake them up. We need both of them."

Peter tilted his head, smiling slightly. "Did you know? Did you know what would happen to Gabriel once I got to him?"

Angela sighed. "My visions were unclear when it came to him... But it appears he has cleared up his own future," she added, decisively.

Peter's smile widened noticeably, and Angela answered it, if a bit pained.

He went to open the bedroom door, leaned halfway in and knocked on the glass. "Hey..." he said, watching them both flinch and slowly wake up.
"You two make a cute picture, but according to my mom, Noah will get here in a bit and disagree. And I'd like to have my bed sheets without holes and blood stains, thank you." He smirked.

Gabriel was the first to realise whom he had been holding in his sleep, removed the arm quickly and sat up. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep."

Claire just shook her head and sat, too. She was not awake enough to deal with how comforting his presence had been, nor could she muster the energy to get angry at him for something she had asked him to do. She settled for being vaguely disgruntled.

Peter took in Claire's clothes that she still wore. "Gabriel, your clothes are dry. Why don't you take a shower, then you can pop over to Claire's dorm and get her something to wear." He looked at Claire. "Sound good?"

Claire stretched and looked at her attire. "Yeah, sure." She was about ready to get out of those clothes. Actually, she was about ready to burn the damn things, after the day she'd had in them.

Gabriel swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. "What time did you wake up?" he asked, incredulously. "Since my clothes are dry, already?"

Peter smirked. "Before I tucked you in, in the middle of last night, I put them in the dryer. You were hunched over on the edge of the bed, by the way."

Gabriel startled, turned to look at Claire who rolled her eyes (probably both amused and annoyed) and back to Peter. "You..." He waved a finger at Peter.

Peter just laughed. "Get in the shower." His eyes followed him as he left.

Gabriel paused briefly when he saw Angela sitting at the table, looking at him. He nodded. "Angela."

"Good morning, Gabriel." She sounded a lot more composed than she actually was, then again, that had always been kind of a specialty of hers.

Gabriel blinked, not really sure how to react to that. "Right..." he mumbled to himself and disappeared in the bathroom.

Peter fully entered the bedroom and closed the door. "You okay?"

"Not sure..." Claire thought about it for a second. "Surprisingly well rested, actually," she finally admitted.

Peter nodded, slowly. "Gabriel is… pretty much the most peaceful presence I've ever known. I don't even remember how often he kept me from going completely nuts in there…"

Claire stared at her knees. Gabriel did calm her down, at least when the memories of him didn't do the opposite. Seeing as he still calmed her down, regardless, he really must have had quite the presence. Naturally, that didn't mean that she had to like it, no more than she liked breaking down the night before.

"Don't know what the hell was wrong with me, yesterday," she mumbled.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Claire looked up. "What do you mean? I've had worse things happen to me than what happened yesterday." She sounded very much angry at herself.

Peter nodded. "You did." He sighed. "Claire, I've seen you dig up corpses in the desert without batting an eyelash." He let that sink in for a second or two. "You jammed a shard of glass into the back of a man's head. Granted, he was taunting you and trying to kill people, but you're not a stone cold killer, are you? Is that really who you are?"

Her jaw set. "It was necessary at the time."

Peter shook his head. "Are you listening to yourself? You buried a part of yourself because you felt you needed to be able to do things like that." He averted his gaze for a second. "And I've seen where this could take you."

Claire shivered. She didn't want to think about a possible future self that would not hesitate to kill Peter. But that was something else, entirely, wasn't it?

"Because that is what happens when you have to hide who you are." He waited until she returned his serious look. "You hide more of yourself than you should, and eventually, you can't find it anymore."

Claire pursed her lips.

"It's what happened to my mother, to Nathan… to your dad. And it's why you broke down last night. You stopped hiding, and that part of you doesn't want to be a person who can look at death, emotionless."

Claire sniffed. "So, what?" she asked, angrily. "I'm going to break down every five minutes from now on?"

Peter just smiled. "Of course not. But there have been a lot of things in your past that you never dealt with." He stepped closer to her. "Deal with them."

Some of her defiance flashed in her eyes.

"That's the spirit," he said, grinning. "And you're not alone. I'm here for you, as is Gabriel. I know, I know," he added, quickly, before she could protest, "you want nothing to do with him, but he's on your side, regardless."

Claire cleared her throat. "I guess it's safer to have him on the team than off it…"

Peter had to laugh at that. "It is…" He snapped his fingers. "Right. I have to get him a towel," he said, opening a closet, taking two out and throwing one to her before doing as he'd said.

Claire hesitated for several long moments before she got up to greet her grandmother.

"Good morning, Angela."

"Good morning, Claire." Her clear eyes followed Claire until she sat. "You slept well, I hear."

Claire gave her a very dirty look. "And I hear that it was your idea to have Gabriel fly me out." She smiled a saccharine smile that turned just this side of nasty when she said the name.

Angela returned the smile with a fake one of her own. "Peter was immediately recognised, as I knew he would be. And there were certain things I needed to take care of, concerning Gabriel, before he could be seen in public."

Peter closed the bathroom door and frowned at her. "What things?"

"Nothing to worry about, dear."

Peter huffed, stood in the middle of the room and crossed his arms. "Excuse me if I don't find this reassuring."

Angela's lips twitched. "I will explain once he's done with his shower. It is about him, after all."

Peter's expression showed clearly that he was not to be messed with. "I will not let you use him, manipulate him, lie to him, or let you do anything even remotely dishonest…"

"Peter," Angela interrupted him. "I have no intention of doing any of that. And I couldn't lie to him, anyway, even if I wanted to."

That seemed to mollify Peter a bit.

"I will not use him, either, but he will be needed. I hope that is acceptable for you?"

"He could use a purpose," Peter agreed.

"Indeed he could." She looked pensive. "And he will find it."

The shower stopped audibly and made everyone quiet down, leaving them to their own thoughts. When the blow dryer started, Claire straightened in her seat.

"So… what's the plan?" she asked.

"You are not going to like all of the necessary steps that need to be taken, but I'm sure you're going to have to agree that they are inevitable, what with the choices you made," Angela said, calmly.

Claire's jaw set, she scratched at the surface of the table with a fingernail and looked up at her while keeping her face slightly downturned. "You're going to make me hide here, aren't you?"

Angela nodded, once. "That is one aspect, yes. Before you protest, we can try to not 'hole you up', but it would be to our advantage if the press didn't know quite yet where to find you. We can arrange for outings, both with and without the media."

Claire didn't like it, but she had expected it. She didn't get to voice any kind of disgruntled and pouty comments, however.

The expected knock on the door came.

Peter sighed and smirked slightly when he went to open it. He had to admit that he was glad that his mother had shown up. Noah didn't have to be welcomed by the sight of his daughter sharing a bed with his declared arch-nemesis.

He pulled open the door with a flourish and a loud, "Good morning, Noah!"

Noah startled.

Peter just walked back into the living room, leaving Noah to close the door. "It's not even close to noon, you know."

Noah closed the door a little more loudly than necessary. "You didn't actually expect me to stay away, did you?"

"A man can hope, can't he?"

Noah stood in the doorway to the living room and let his eyes roam quickly. "Where is he?"

Peter plopped down in another of the four chairs, joining his mother and Claire. "Bathroom. Obviously."

Noah walked closer and finally sat in the last chair.

When he didn't say anything for the longest moment, Claire exhaled explosively. "He didn't try to kill anyone all night. You can stop scowling." Her tone and expression were of pure sarcasm.

"Well excuse me for being worried about you sharing an apartment with a deranged serial killer."

Thankfully, Noah was no telepath and didn't hear the triple thoughts of 'bed, not just apartment'.

"If I'm a serial killer, then so are you, Noah," Gabriel said, exiting the bathroom, fully dressed and his hair mostly dry. He had even shaved. "Your body count is higher than mine," he added, slowly walking closer and coming to a stop behind Peter's chair.

"Really?" Noah said, not really letting it sound like a question. After all, he was well aware of the numbers himself.

"Yes, really." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "One touch is all it takes for me to know everything about you. Never mind that I spent long enough in Parkman's head that it would have been virtually impossible not to pick up his telepathy."

Noah just stared at him.

"You hate me, I get it, and that's fine. Just don't think you have a right to self-righteousness."

"Did you shave?" Claire asked, before they could jump each other's throats.

Gabriel turned to look at her, startled but clearly amused. "What's a man with three days' growth to do on the other two days?" He sighed dramatically and put both his hands on the back of Peter's chair. "It's a mystery."

Peter laughed. "Dude, I don't even..." He laughed again.

Claire huffed, but couldn't quite keep the laugh out. "Enough already." She pushed back her chair. "And I want that shower, now, anyway."

"Just one moment," Angela said. "Gabriel. Could you please give Claire a brief summary of what you think would be the best, immediate course of action?"

Claire and Noah stared at her, incredulously. Claire voiced both their thoughts: "You want him to come up with a plan?"

"Claire, understanding things is in his nature, for one. For another… with the plan coming from him, you'll believe that your father and I didn't conspire behind your back."

Claire narrowed her eyes.

Gabriel chuckled. "You expect me to say what you would?"

Angela just smiled. "We'll see, won't we?"

Gabriel lowered his eyes… Claire would be so mad at him… Then again, that wasn't exactly something new, was it?
"Since Claire helpfully made herself an icon…" he snorted at his words and tried very hard not to smile at Claire's scowl directed at him, "it would be best if she could hide here until we have a public persona for her to represent and then find a life for her to match."

"Public persona?" Claire all but spat the words.

Gabriel remained as calm as ever. "Claire, the indestructible girl made an appearance on national TV. If you want to help Specials in the aftermath – and you can't tell me that you don't – you need a story to tell, you have sympathy to gain. And, well, making you a… celebrity," he smirked a bit, "is the safest way to keep plans of possible abductions to a minimum. People need to be aware of you."

He cleared his throat when he saw that his words had sunk in. "Short-term," he said and looked at Angela, "we need to stage an interview. No audience. An interviewer of our choice, preferably a female one. Aired on as many stations as possible, though I don't think that will be a problem," he rattled off a list of things he could think of just then. "And it should be soon. Announced today if possible, recorded within a week at latest. We approve of the final cut."

Angela smiled, satisfied. "No audience?" she asked, that apparently having been a point she hadn't thought of.

Gabriel shook his head. "They can interfere, twist stories."

"And long-term?"

"We need a support system for Specials, and it has to be presentable to the public, at least on the surface. Then we should create some sort of… evaluation," he couldn't think of a better word, "to determine who might be a danger to themselves and or others. Offer help and training…" he hesitated.

Peter patted his hand where it rested on the back of his chair. "Some will need to be detained."

Gabriel nodded, jerkily. "Yes. And offered help," he said, his voice allowing no argument.

Noah silently shook his head, hundreds of explanation as to why that was a virtually impossible goal running through his mind. Peter and Claire on the other hand appeared… hopeful.

Claire finally snickered into the silence. "I have a feeling you're going to be more trouble to the company now than you ever were."

Gabriel smirked. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Claire's expression sobered. "You think it's doable?" She frowned doubtfully. "In all seriousness?"

"We will find a way."

Noah sighed loudly, making ready to voice his own doubts, but Angela wouldn't let him.

"It's up to them, now, Noah."

He returned her pained look still incredulous.

"It's a new world with new rules," she said. "All you and I can do, now, is hoping that the younger generation is wiser than we were and help them shape that world."

The other three shared an awkward look, until Peter broke the ice by saying, sarcastically, "But no pressure, right?"

Claire and Gabriel snorted; Noah and Angela looked much more like they wished for… something, anything else.

Claire finally breathed loudly and leaned back in her seat. "Okay. I'd really like to have that shower, soon." She looked at Angela. "So why don't you tell us what you needed to take care of for him?" she nodded towards Gabriel. "I don't want any more nasty surprises."

Gabriel curiously lifted an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

Angela cleared her throat and straightened in her seat. "I cleared your name."

Gabriel let go of the back of Peter's chair and straightened as well. "My name?"

She shrugged. "Sylar was never a matter of official police records, and Danko's team is gone. All it took was a little add-on to your file with an eye witness account by our two Japanese heroes that clearly states that the death of your mother was an accident." She tilted her head. "Your case is closed and your name cleared, Gabriel Gray. Make something of it."

Gabriel stared at her, dumfounded. As did Claire and Peter, though Angela and Gabriel didn't notice another thing in the room for a few moments.

Noah broke the spell. "That's awfully generous of you," he said, suspiciously.

Angela huffed. "Nonsense. Gabriel will be needed in what is to come. This had to be taken care of before the press starts digging into his past. And they will."

Gabriel smirked. "Thanks anyway."

Angela waved him off with a hand, magnanimously. "As it has turned out, Micah Sanders was more than willing to help you set your records straight."

Gabriel blinked, then grinned. "I think he's got a bit of hero worship going on there. I guess me threatening to kill him after I saved him didn't have much of an impact…" He raised an eyebrow.

"He was…" Angela searched for the right words, "maybe a little over-excited when I met him earlier this morning. The new situation seemed to very much please him."

Claire stood. "At least someone appreciates my efforts. Now, if you will excuse me, that shower is waiting." She looked at Gabriel.

"I'm going to pick up some clothes for you, yes ma'am," he said before she could.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Funny," she said, disappearing in the bathroom.

The moment the door closed, Peter could feel Gabriel deflate behind him. He tilted his head back and up. "You okay, buddy?"

Gabriel appeared distracted for a moment. "Yeah, just..." Everything had changed. The world had changed. Nothing was the same. And he was not only in the middle of it, he was expected to...

Peter smiled slightly. "This shit just got real."

That startled a laugh out of Gabriel and he smacked his friend on the back of his head. "You're an idiot, Petrelli." He took a step back from the chair. "Be right back." And he was gone.

Angela studied her son intently. He looked so... content, at ease.

Peter, still smiling, caught her looking. "What?" he asked.

Angela took a deep breath, though she managed to keep it oddly restrained at the same time. "Nothing of importance."

"Oh?" Peter said, not really believing her.

"I'd seen this coming for days but... I guess it is still an entirely different matter to see it with my own eyes."

"You mean Gabriel?"

"I mean you and Gabriel," she clarified.

Peter sobered, but he kept the content air about him. "You know, mom..." he stopped, the smile slowly returning. "He might not actually be your son, but he is my brother."

Noah stared at Peter wide-eyed.

Angela just nodded, hurt reflecting in her moist eyes clear as day. Still she smiled. "I know."

Noah twisted to her. "You're just giving up? He killed your son, Angela!" His voice was as firm and fiery as his eyes as they bore into her. "We can't just leave that!"

She turned her head slowly. "We have done so many people so much wrong, Noah. All in the interest of learning about abilities so we could bury them." She pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. "It can't be buried anymore, you know that. You can't bury the world, the future."

"But Sylar is still..."

"Sylar was what we made him," she repeated what Gabriel had insinuated the night before, only coming from her, someone who was as guilty as Noah was, it hit Noah so much more. Then her tiny smile returned, still looking as if it physically hurt to think about the thing that made her smile... and it did hurt her, so very, very much. "Through our wrongdoings and too much pain he became who he needs to be today."

Instead of just crumbling, which was something he could not let himself do, Noah snorted. "You're saying it was his... destiny?" The irony he added to the last word was not lost on anyone.

"What would I know about destiny? My dreams are usually more immediate than that." Her eyes lost focus for a moment. "But things do have a tendency to come around in some other way when I move to prevent them." She focused on Noah again. "Gabriel is the most powerful of all, and because of what happened, he is now in control of his abilities and willing to protect the people we failed to protect."

"One heck of a price to pay," Peter muttered, first staring at the tabletop then snapping his gaze firmly to his mother. "Just to have the most powerful man on our side."

Noah seemed to agree, but Peter wasn't finished.

"And I'm not talking about the pain he brought onto others, mom."

Angela's eyes watered again, the veiled smile back in place. She evenly forced the words she had to say to her little boy past her constricted throat. "Your brother has a chance at being happy." She swallowed and cleared her throat. "He is strong enough to stay on that track, now."

Peter turned those words over in his mind. The now particularly catching his attention. He knew as well as anyone that Gabriel wouldn't have been strong enough, not even a single day earlier, no matter how much he might have wanted to be... "What's done is done," he finally said, after a very long pause, sharing an intense look with his mother.

"A blank slate," she agreed. "Make something of it," she repeated her earlier words to Gabriel.

.

TBC