Progeny, Chapter 4
by Creedog VanDrey
Category: Heroes
Genre: Action
Rating: T
Language: English
Summery: Peter and Claire rejoin the ever-changing Company, reconnecting with friends new and old.
Spoilers: Vaguely Season 3. If you missed the spoiler notice from the previous chapter, this spoils a lot of my other series, "The World Entire."
A/N: I know this chapter has been a long time coming, but my life has been in a slight dishevel for a while. Ironically, I've had loads of time where I could be working on this, but I was frankly uninspired until recently. One problem is that I lost the flash drive with the original version of this chapter, so I've had to rewrite from almost scratch.
In the last chapter of The World Entire: Progeny… President Nathan Petrelli saves his family from a doomed flight aboard Air Force One, but doesn't survive himself. Peter teleports Claire and his daughter Hannah to Coyote Sands to raise her, only to have her explode again, so Peter takes them to a remote Japanese island. Monica and Lyle attend the church of an annoying anti-Special demagogue. Vice President Liam Samuels takes Nathan's place as the reelected President.
: : :
Chapter 4: Stages of Life
Dutch developmental psychologist Erik Erikson proposed a theory of psychosocial development. He split the human lifespan into eight stages, from infancy to seniority, attaching to each stage an essential need to be met. Children grow to understand the world. Parents learn to care for a child. And for those fortunate enough to grow into old age, they have the opportunity to look back on their life and determine meaning. We watch as each new generation takes its place, molding the world, making it better.
: : :
Gabriel Gray and Meredith Gordon
Primatech Research Facility
Hartsdale, New York
December 28, 2012
The ceremony was supposed to start at 2:00, but it was 2:23 when Peter finally teleported in with Claire and the week-old Hannah. Claire laid a soft kiss on Hannah's head before Peter teleported out just as quickly with an apologetic wave to an unfettered Meredith.
The small crowd that had gathered was mingling in front of the stage. A few looked bored and Bess Detskij looked thoroughly inconvenienced. But finally, Meredith signaled Gabriel to the stage.
Gabriel casually jumped onto the stage and pulled a small jewelry box out of his coat pocket. He noticed his tied was askew, so he halfway fixed it while Meredith climbed the stairs without hurry.
"Hey," he called out to the room, as there was no microphone on stage. The crowd took a minute to settle down, and he continued, "So I didn't actually prepare anything, but I'm just here to award Meredith here her watch."
He opened a box, revealing a dainty woman's gold watch. Meredith politely grinned, noting aloud to the audience, "Well, since none of y'all can see it, it's got a little picture of my family behind the face, which is really nice. Thanks, Gabriel."
After Meredith slipped it on, Gabriel excitedly beckoned, "Light up" while making a "burst of flame" gesture with his hands. After a cursory glance, Meredith acquiesced, and produced a ball of flames around her hand. Proudly, Gabriel explained, "Completely fire-proof, and charged by heat."
Meredith chuckled appreciatively.
Gabriel announced to the crowd, as an afterthought, "I give you your new Company Director."
He swung out one arm to Meredith, who performed the weakest of bows. "Thank you. Now… get back to work," she teased.
Bess immediately began to clap, and the rest of the crowd followed suit.
: : :
Gabriel Gray and Bess Detskij
Primatech Research Facility
Hartsdale, New York
5/4/2015
Two and a half years later…
The lights were dimmed in the atrium. Two blocks of chairs, filled with Company employees, arranged in perfect squares facing the stage and separted by an aisle. Two spotlights shone on a lone podium on the stage.
Gabriel took his place at the podium, wearing in his best suit, a forest-green pinstripe, and tried not to fidget. Beside him stood Meredith, sporting a brand new peach-colored skirt-and-blouse ensemble, doing her very best to look austere.
The instant the clock at the back of the room reached 8:00 in the morning, Bess Detskij, in a steel gray long-cut pant suit, strode confidently on stage.
Gabriel spoke into the podium mic, reading from a script, "Welcome, employees of the Company, to the Passing the Torch ceremony. I'll be your emcee this evening." Bess cleared her throat. Staring daringly at her, Gabriel over-prounced, "My apologies. This wonderful Monday morning."
As a projection screen lowered behind him, Gabriel pulled out a watch box. Behind him, a diagram for a wrist watch appeared.
After a dramatic sign, Gabriel announced, "Today, I'll be giving Bess her watch to commiserate her promotion to Company Director. Her watch is a stainless steel analog, automatically corrected to the Atomic Clock. You'll notice a number of dials in the background, including a compass, month and date, and even GPS coordinates. If you want to know how I was able to include all these features, it's because I spent a year designing it. Miss Detskij has had this promotion in the works for a while."
Bess was shooting daggers to Gabriel, who summarily ignored them and handed Bess the watch. "Still hate me?" he whispered.
"Always," Bess replied with cheer. She turned to face Meredith, who approached her, with script in hand.
Meredith read, "Elizaveta Detskij, please raise your right hand." Bess's hand was long since raised. "Do you solemnly swear to uphold your duties as Company Director?"
"I do."
"Then, I, Meredith Gordon, do bequeath to you, all powers and privileges of my office. Lead this Company to greatness."
Meredith extended her hand. Bess met her more than halfway, vigorously shaking it. Bess rushed to the podium. The entire audience, almost in unison, slumped down in their chairs. Bess inhaled slowly and spoke regally, "I wish to thank Gabriel for his lovely watch and Meredith for her faith in me." She took another breath, and finished quickly, "Now, I invite you all to join me in the main containment bay for a reception." With that she walked off, leaving a stunned—and firmly situated—audience in their seats.
The main containment bay was the largest room in the Company's headquarters. It was an austere, cement-lined room typically used to house multiple belligerent bag-and-tags before they could be processed. It now housed two tables of hor d'oeuvres and a large sheet cake.
Matt, Daphne, Mohinder, and Barbara stood together, drinking champagne. "She does realize it's eight-thirty in the morning, doesn't she?" Daphne noted, sipping the last of her bubbly. She handed the empty flute to Matt expectantly.
"You do realize it's eight-thirty in the morning?"
"With my metabolism, you realize the longest I've ever been drunk is eleven minutes?"
"Everyone remembers their wedding day," Matt teased.
Barbara and Mohinder laughed. Barbara then gasped and grabbed hold of Mohinder as she almost stumbled down. In the blink of an eye, Daphne retrieved a chair and helped Barbara into it. Mohinder knelt down with great concern. "Barbara…"
"Something is not right with my hip joint," Barbara seethed.
"Artificial cartilage?" Mohinder offered.
"Probably," Barbara spat, "just have them look into it when they replace my knee. Just one of the problems with being a cyborg, I suppose."
"Priya, you're not a cyborg."
"I appreciate that, Mausi," she replied.
Matt offered, "He's right, you know. You're not cyborg unless you have computerized hardware." This earned him a smack on the forearm from his wife.
Across the room, Claire was reacquainting herself with an old friend. Zach, after a tight hug, asked her, "You finally back from your 'extended vacation'?"
"Raising an empath is no vacation. Are the rumors true? Are you an agent now?"
"Three months next week. I'm working with Johanssen."
Piper sidled up, wrapping her rubbery arm around Zach's neck twice, "Hey, this your old girlfriend?" Claire and Zach's mouth sat open for half a second before she continued, barely pausing between words, "Yeah, just kidding. Anyway, I got done with my two years of Army work before I came back and got my red badge of courage." She slipped off her jacket, unbuttoned two buttons on her dress shirt, and pulled down the collar to show off a red adhesive bandage on her arm. "Anyway, now that I'm limbered up again, and through that slave labor camp Parkman calls agent training, I am a loyal minion of the Company."
"You got the shot months ago. The injection site should have long since healed," Zach noted.
"Oh, it did, but us one-of-them's like to show pride in our status. Some get the helix tattooed but this is cheaper."
"Congrats," Claire applauded.
Peter then approached, explained that she was being beckoned, and dragged a confused Claire away.
They were intercepted a few feet away when Claire was suddenly enveloped in a surprise hug by her biological mother. "Oh, Baby, I've missed you." Meredith then gave the same friendly treatment to Peter.
"So, where's my…" Meredith paused to muddle on this, "Where's Hannah?"
"With Trisha," Peter responded, "we wanted to let her get to know her cousin Noah."
"She's got her work cut out for her." Meredith then brought up, "So, as I hear it, you two are ready to return to the Company full-time?"
Peter remarked, "We feel confident that Hannah has control of her abilities."
"Well, the first place we're going to station you is in Barstow." Meredith dug through a shoulder bag and handed them a yellow file.
Claire opened it, "Peter, Claire, and Hannah Bulter… Meredith, we're not…"
"Of course not. Read on: 30-year-old widowed father of a three-year-old girl and his 22-year-old half-sister, about to start medical school."
"Why does this street name sound familiar?" Claire mused.
She was answered with a painful but minor electric shock to the back of the head. Elle then greeted her with, "Hey, Pom-Pom. Guess who's gonna be neighbors!" She wrapped her arms around Claire's neck in a one-sided hug.
"Mom, seriously," Claire begged. Meredith made a valiant attempt to show sympathy.
"You want your dog back?" Elle asked out of the blue, "'Cause you can't have him. Noah loves him too much."
"Wait, are you talking about Mr. Muggles?" Claire replied, flabbergasted, "W-w-what about the Costa Verde Disaster?"
"Oh, you wanna know why he wasn't vaporized, don'cha? Oh, he got doggie cancer in like 2009, so I injected him with some regen blood."
"And that worked?" Claire replied, looking green.
"No, it actually gave him 'acute blood poisoning'. Because it was human blood. Who knew?"
"I did," Gabriel remarked darkly, placing his arms around his wife's shoulders.
"Know-it-all," Elle teased, "When I said Noah was attached to the mutt, I actually meant Bob Barker here. So sad about losing his 'Little Fluffy.' Anyway, he was like an hour from death anyway, so I tried injecting him with an Evolution shot."
"And?" Claire asked, against her better judgment.
"He exploded." She made a popping noise with her lips.
"Mr. Muggles… exploded?"
"Into teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy doggie bits." She make an exploding firework gesture and brought her hands back together, "Then all the little doggie bits just came back together. Except for the tumor."
"That's disturbing."
"He does the same thing every time he gets hit by a car. Or, you know, thrown into the next county a nuclear explosion."
"'Every time'?" Claire was poised to ask the obvious question, but instead concluded, "Why do I even start conversations with you?"
Elle noted gleefully, "Anywhere, we're off to set something on fire."
In a pure deadpan, Gabriel explained seriously, "We're very mad that Bess chose to have strawberry cake at this shindig."
Claire turned to her mother and asked, "Is it too soon to ask for a transfer?"
Meredith asked, "Funny, I thought you and Gabriel had buried the hatchet."
: : :
Claire Bennet
Primatech Research Facility
Hartsdale, New York
9/22/2011
Claire, with a tube sucking blood out of her arm, was looking forlornly at the empty box of Oatmeal Crème Pies. She had pledged voluntary conscription to the Company not three days ago, and so far the work had been dull.
The door opened and Claire's second favorite uncle walked in.
"Sy—Gabriel, sorry," she greeted awkwardly.
Gabriel knocked and entered the room. "It's okay. Is Pete here?"
"No, he's off. Have you tried his room?"
"No, I, uh, was hoping to talk to you, actually."
"Suit yourself. Though, you're gonna have to open that cabinet and get me something to eat."
"Hunger pangs. I can relate." He tossed her a box of Nutty Bars. "And I mean, actual hunger, not… you know."
"I got it," Claire graciously cut him off while ripping open a package and gnawing on the snack bar.
"I need a favor," Gabriel asked. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and pulled down his collar, exposing the scratches marring his neck.
Claire's voice immediately filled with concern, "Why didn't you heal? I seem to recall a certain having my head ripped open." She paused and apologized, "Sorry, still working through the anger issues. Again, why don't you have my power anymore?"
"The Antidote wiped me clean. Peter reinjected me, but all that came back immediately was intuitive aptitude and telekinesis." He demonstrated by lifting a snack bar out of Claire's box and bringing it to him. "But I haven't been able to get yours back. I've run through that night in my head a dozen times and I've got enough sympathy to weight down an ocean liner but… no regeneration."
"What do you need me for? Is being around me going to make it easier?"
"Well, I've decided to cheat. I had Matt mind-whammy me again, so I've once again picked up telepathy. I was hoping you'd give me permission to… explore you."
"Well, when you put it in those terms… Look, we've all got a lot to atone for. Explore away."
Gabriel pressed his thumbs firmly against Claire's cheekbones and wrapped his fingers around to the base of her skull and brought his forehead within half an inch of hers and began to concentrate. Claire scrunched her face as her mind was invaded.
The cuts on Gabriel's neck began to close.
: : :
Liam Samuels
Freedom Tower
Washington, D.C.
November 9, 2016
The large room was quiet. Decorations still hung from every corner and the ultra-thin television sets on the walls still displayed election coverage, though the sound was muted. President Liam Samuels sat on the stage as the clocks reported that it was nearing 2:30 in the morning.
He was still sitting pensively when an attractive woman of forty entered the room, wearing a white-trimmed peach-colored suit that contrasted with her olive skin and mahogany-brown hair. She took a seat beside Liam and began to stroke his grey-streaked black hair.
"Hey, Sweetie," Liam whispered.
"Are you still brooding in here?"
"I'm not brooding," he insisted. "You remember how excited I was to do this eighteen months ago?" he asked sarcastically. Dahlia grinned. He continued, "Rick just started spouting statistics, using all these politician techniques that I taught him… And then I led by four points until the very end. I got caught up in the hype. I'm not sad I lost. I'm relieved, in fact."
"I knew you would be," she answered softly. In a cheerful tone, she pointed out, "Not many people can say they served for four years as President without being elected. What are you going to do now?"
"I think it's about time we visited Greece like you've always wanted."
"So you're just out of the game?"
"Oh, we both know how this is going to play out. After two or three months on the Greek coast, I'll get antsy, and you'll tell me it's time to go home and get back to work. I'll claim I'm tired of the limelight and ready to get back to my roots. I'll start by consulting for various aspiring Congressman for the New York State House. But, fifty-to-one odds, in three years, I'll be the very front-and-center campaign manager for Nancy's Presidential bid. Lord knows I can't resist the challenge of making a divorced, black, Republican woman President."
"And I'll be there every step of the way," Dahlia soothed.
Liam continued unhindered, "It won't be too hard. She had fantastic approval ratings as VP. There were times when her approval rating was like twice mine."
Dahlia kissed Liam's cheek.
"I just lost a Presidential election by a landslide. I think we need to celebrate." Liam pulled his wife up by the hand and left the room, turning off the light, and plunging the room into darkness, with a smile on his face.
: : :
Primatech Office Supplies
New Orleans, Louisiana
August 4, 2021
Monica Dawson was still beautiful at thirty-four. In front of the all-acrylic glass office building, she waited patiently in the Louisiana summer heat, fluttering the thin white blouse she wore under her cream-colored jacket-dress. In her hands, she held a thin, notebook-sized piece of hard plastic.
Peter, Claire, and 8-year-old Hannah teleported in before her. Peter and Claire hadn't aged since Monica had last met up with them. She greeted them warmly, "Welcome to New Orleans."
"Thanks!" Claire cheered, already sweating in her merlot-and-rose waistcoat suit. She immediately regretted her dark colors; she also began to consider a shorter hairstyle. "I figured you be running this place by now."
"Just as soon as Carlson keels over."
Monica handed Peter the plastic sheet. "It's blank," he remarked about the sheet as he shook it.
Monica took the sheet back and slapped it against the glass wall of the antechamber as the foursome passed through the automatic doors. The sheet turned an opaque white and writing appeared. "New tech, so unreliable. You're gonna have to start selling this stuff. Don't worry, the demo supply works better."
"We're the Bishops," Peter announced.
"Seriously?" Claire whined.
Monica explained, "Look, 'Bishop' is a very common surname down here. And Mr. Bishop put a lot of years into creating background identities. It made our job very easy for some 'niece' of his and her widowed stepbrother to have a transfer here from California. By the way, you two are being promoted. Congratulations, you're reserve agents."
"I thought you needed more personnel in your medical department."
"You are the medical department. We've been running at below-70 percent capacity for nearly a decade. Whatever you guys did at Barstow to get into the black, Strauss wants you to do here."
"What will we be working on?" Peter asked.
"What else? The disappearances. We've had eleven since the beginning of the year already. Welcome to the team."
: : :
Primatech Solutions, Inc.
Midland, Texas
March 30, 2025
"Welcome to the team," Meredith cheerfully welcomed her daughter, Peter, and twelve-hear-old Hannah. "Sweetie, you look lovely."
"So do you," Claire remarked sincerely. Though her mother was now in her mid-fifties, she looked a decade younger, due to a rigorous program of hair coloring and skin care.
"Auntie Mere!" Hannah excitedly hugged Meredith.
"Lord in Heaven," Meredith beamed, "if you aren't the most beautiful young lady I ever did lay eyes on."
Peter took his daughter's hand and noted, "Meredith, congratulations on the promotion."
"This facility is my baby. Open six months. Fifteen years with the Company, every job from rookie agent to director, this is what I hope the future of this place is. Making a world safe for all."
"You should make that the mission statement."
"Part of it is," Meredith pointed behind Peter and Claire, where the mission statement proudly stood.
Claire giggled, "And here I thought you'd gone philosophical."
"Your mom, no. I'm still a Texan at heart. So, you ready to get started?"
Claire and Peter readily agreed, but the moment was cut short when they saw Hannah staring at a wall across the lobby. After exchanging glances, they walked over toward where Hannah was standing.
Dozens of framed photographs lined the wall. Above the rows of pictures was the caption: "In Memory of Those Lost in the Odessa Disaster: December 22, 2012."
"Odessa," Hannah remarked, not looking up, "It's the town that used to be near here."
Claire paused, wondering if Hannah was talking to her and Peter. She replied, "Yeah. I grew up there. It's still there; the government will reopen it once they're sure the radiation levels are low enough."
Hannah's eyes descended to the top two photographs. The first was of Nathan Petrelli; the second was of the Haitian, labeled "René Bokor" in quotes. The rest were position below these.
"It happened on my birthday."
"You knew that, Hannah," Peter remarked.
"I'm twelve now. I know it's not a coincidence. What does the disaster have to do with me? And which one's Mom?" Hannah looked up expectantly.
Peter looked to Claire, who nodded. He knelt down behind his daughter, who resolutely avoided her father's eyes by staring straight ahead. "Your mom's picture isn't up there. But as for your other question… we're both mimics, and a while back, before you were born, I knew this man by the name of Ted Sprague…"
Across the room, Meredith watched as Peter spoke to his daughter while Claire stood several feet back, watching the two with a heartbroken look on her face.
: : :
Micah Sanders and Molly Walker
Primatech Solutions Headquarters
Hartsdale, New York
March 20, 2029
Micah and Molly, now in their early thirties, stood before the Restricted Area of Primatech. Molly was waiting patiently, reading over a dossier on e-paper. Micah simply stood with his hand held out, holding a touch phone, his pose relaxed but with a concentrating look on his face.
Molly looked over, surveying him. "Micah, are you working?"
Slipping the phone in his pocket, he noted sheepishly, "We are at work."
"We're on welcome duty for Peter and Claire. It's a big honor."
"I know. And I do like Peter and Claire, and I do look forward to working with them. But, we've been waiting for ten minutes. I thought the guy could teleport."
"Not all of our brains are connected to the atomic clock." Molly noticed Micah wasn't responding, so she turned her head again, noticing Micah's hand was in his pocket. "Why do you even have an office? I hope your finishing some reports."
Micah noted while staring into space, "Peter and Claire appeared at the front desk three minutes ago. And their badges just registered at Elevator B getting off at the third floor, so I'm estimating… seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
At that very moment, the trio of Peter, Claire, and a bouncing sixteen-year-old Hannah, turned around the corner. After rolling her eyes, Molly put on a smiling face and prepared to welcome her newest colleagues.
: : :
A/N: You know, I really ought to be more squicked out by the Petrellicestiness. I mean, I've got Peter and Claire acting like new parents. Now, I've got Gabriel doing a Vulcan mind meld with Claire, which is hilarious on multiple levels.
I really didn't want to highlight this, because it would have made a better background detail, but I'm trying to show evolving fashions and technologies as we take multi-year leaps in time. However, since this is not a visual medium, I fear it may becoming confusing.
Having to rewrite this was a detriment to the Bess's Coronation Reception scene, where I had a beautiful conversation between Mohinder, Barbara, Matt, and Daphne that I was unable to recreate fully. On the other hand, the loss of content allowed me to put a bookend on Liam Samuel's story. I wanted to include a long governmental subplot, but I've had to scrap most of the idea because it kept getting too muddled. This does allow me to get to 2029 quicker, which is really the point of this series.
Started 6/10/2009. Finished 12/2/2009.