Seeing the blonde haired girl with the broken neck reminded Jed immediately of Jackie Forbes. Reid had chosen her because she had the same name as the girl Sylar killed in Texas. It had been a beautiful Saturday morning, and he and Reid had been tracking her for days. Finally, she was completely alone. She'd decided to go for a run in the woods by the high school she used to attend.
Standing behind the trees, Jed couldn't help but feel attracted to the tall blonde haired woman as she ran, clad in tight, black, athletic spandex. He felt a pull of doubt about what he was going to do, but Reid was as quick to pounce as a predatory cat. He appeared from his camouflaged state right in front of the woman, and before she could scream, used a taser to stun her.
As she fell to the ground, Reid hissed, "Now, Jed! Do it!" And Jed sighed and made a quick, clean cut across her head.
As they drove on that night, Reid feeling very smug behind the wheel, Jed realized that this was now his reality. There would never be any turning back.
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Matt and Mohinder watched in awe as Sylar's eyes went from a milky white back to their original charcoal hue. The picture was complete. Sylar looked it over and winced, then threw it on the bed, walking to the wall and hitting it.
Cautiously Matt picked up the picture and looked at it, then raised a brow. Mohinder walked over to him. "Let me see," he asked. He looked at it for a few seconds, then put it down. The Indian doctor looked at the man he'd always considered an enemy and sighed. "You're going to kill again, if your predictions are true," he said, knowing it was unnecessary to say so.
"And it's given us no more information about where Claire is," Sylar said.
Mohinder sighed. "Well, Sylar, she is…mostly indestructible," he tried to reason. "There is a good chance they won't—can't—kill her."
"That's not the point, Mohinder," Sylar snapped. "If Claire is suffering, it's because of me. God! I never should have allowed her to talk me into this stupid trip. I should have made her go back to her family. Didn't she know she wasn't ever going to change me? That picture clearly shows—I'm going to kill again!"
Mohinder was about to speak again until the sound of a juvenile moan caught his ears. They all looked to see Molly, shifting in the bed. They ran to her.
"Is she waking?" Sylar asked anxiously.
Mohinder nodded. "It appears so. Molly? Love?" he asked, combing his fingers lightly through her hair.
"I'll go get the map from the other room," Matt said.
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Claire groaned in her effort, as she twisted her head back into place. This was starting to get really annoying. The two men just stared at her. Then finally, Reid spoke. "You're not the tracking system, are you?" he deduced. "Your power is healing. You can't be harmed!"
"You're a freaking genius," Claire barked at him. "Since you now see the pointlessness in all of this, why don't you just let me go?"
Jed seemed to be agreeable to that, but Reid gave him a twisted, evil smile. "I don't think so," he said. "Granted, torturing you might be more of a challenge now, but that only means we'll have to get…creative. And my oh my, do we have the tools to try! Jed?"
Jed moved out of the way to reveal the various tools of torture at their fingertips. For the first time since this had started, Claire feared for her life.
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Molly opened her eyes to find the three men practically swarming around her like bees. She jumped back in alarm.
Mohinder spoke. "Give her some room," he ordered Sylar and Matt. Obediently they stepped back.
"He took Claire," Molly said flatly. They looked at her, surprised.
Mohinder put his hands on her shoulders. "Who was it, love? What can you tell us?"
"It was the new Boogeyman," she said in a frightened voice. "He can make himself disappear. That's his power."
"You mean invisibility?" Sylar asked.
Molly shook her head. "I don't know how. Somehow…he makes himself look like the stuff around him. He's there, but you can't see him."
"Like camouflage," Matt suggested.
"Molly," Sylar began. "Do you know where the New Boogey-Man took Claire?"
Molly looked at him intently. "He's not like you," she said in a soft, strange voice. "He's worse than you. You hurt people because you want what they have. He hurts people because he likes to hurt. And he's going to hurt Claire to hurt you."
Sylar stood up. "Give her the map," he told Matt.
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By now, they had broken nearly every bone in her body, and had found the way to prevent her bones from re-setting themselves. They first broke her right index finger, and found, with growing frustration, that the finger snapped itself back into place. Then Jed got the brilliant idea of pumping her full of muscle relaxant, because apparently if her muscles weren't working, they wouldn't bring the bones back together.
Claire lay there, her head thrown back, trying to hold back a sob. The only thing they hadn't broken was her nose; if they had, there was a good chance that blood would run down her throat and drown her. She'd found a whole new world of pain.
Reid looked down on her with almost a hungry look in her eyes. "Let's cut her open," he said to Jed. "But don't use your laser. Let's use a good old fashioned knife."
Jed obediently brought Reid a shiny surgical knife, and the latter gracefully took it in his left hand and looked down at his patient, who was now pleading with him with her eyes.
"I bet you're regretting spitting in my face, aren't you baby?" he said.
Claire swallowed. "Yes," she whispered.
Reid shrugged. "Too late now," he said, and without warning plunged the knife deep into her warm insides.
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"I'm trying," Molly insisted, squeezing her eyes together tightly. "I'm—I'm just so tired…"
"Molly, Claire's life might be at stake!" Matt urged. "Please—you have to try harder!"
"We can't force her!" Mohinder argued. "She's just a child, and she's been through a very traumatic experience. She needs time!"
"And with all the time we're giving her, Claire might be dying," Sylar almost shouted. "The longer we wait, the more he gets away with!"
"Claire wouldn't want Molly to hurt herself looking for her—I'm sure of it!" Mohinder shouted back.
"I can do it Mohinder," Molly said, pushing herself up in bed. She took a deep breath, then went into her trance. The men watched as her finger moved across the map, then finally settled on a particular spot.
"She's there—with them," Molly stated.
"Them?" Matt repeated.
"I could see two men—they have the same face," Molly explained. "They're both there, with Claire."
Sylar looked the child in the face. "Where?" he demanded.
Molly tapped the map. "There. That's where I see them."
Mohinder took the spot she pinpointed and searched the internet for it. He frowned and went back to the bed. "Darling, are you sure? There are no buildings there."
Molly nodded with conviction. "That's the place."
"Maybe it's below ground," Matt suggested.
"It's a good hiding spot," Sylar admitted. "But I'm going to find them," he said, walking out the door.
"And I'm going with you," Matt said, following.
Sylar stopped. "Parkman, I'm not going to do anything--"
"I know you're not," Matt interrupted. "I just thought…you might want some backup."
For the first time since Matt had known him, Sylar smiled with complete sincerity and walked on. Matt did as he had promised—he followed.
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They saw the body jerk as Jed tore it out. He stared at it in his hands in shock. It was still warm and beating, after all. He wasn't prepared for that.
Reid was panting. From what, Jed didn't know. "You did good Jed," Reid told him.
Jed didn't answer. He just stared at the human heart he held in his hands. He couldn't believe he had done it.
Reid clapped him on the shoulder. "We gotta go, bro. If all indications are correct, the little girl was the tracking system, and she's probably gonna wake up soon and lead Sylar right to us. We need to be out of here." He began to walk away, then stopped and turned when he realized Jed wasn't following.
Reid was getting irritated. "Jed, come on! She's dead, we did what we came to do. Now stop staring at the damn thing and come on!"
Jed finally turned and looked at Reid. "We really killed her, Reid. And we really killed those other people too. What have we done?"
Reid rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Did he really have to have this conversation with him again? "We've avenged Zane, that's what we've done. Just like he'd do for us. Now put that thing down and come with me."
Jed sighed. Where else could he go? Reid was right; he couldn't stay there. Finally he gently put the heart, now cold, on the table beside the body. He walked out with Reid.
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They left just in time to avoid Sylar, as the former serial killer realized that the spot Molly had marked on the map was an abandoned subway station. The doors were sealed, and Matt took out his gun, prepared to shoot open the lock, but Sylar brought his hands together and apart sharply, making the doors collapse and fly into the hallway.
Sylar stalked through the dark hallway. "Claire? Claire!" he called. He turned to his unlikely partner. "Parkman? Do you…hear anything?"
Matt shut his eyes and rubbed his head, knowing fully well that it didn't help to do that, but it made his effort seem more visible. "I can't hear anything, man. Not from anyone. She might be—might be…out," he said hopefully.
Sylar turned around and kept walking. Then he felt his foot slip under him, and would have fallen if not for Matt's hand grabbing his arm. Sylar cleared his throat and quickly shook it off. He didn't want to bond with this guy. He still hated him, after all.
"I slipped on something," Sylar told him.
"That's what I figured. Unfortunately, we have no light," Matt replied.
Sylar sighed, then remembered something. "Stand back," he told him.
Matt complied, and Sylar used the power he took from Ted Sprague to light up the hallway—light, not heat.
Matt gasped and stood against the wall. "It's blood! You slipped on blood!"
He was right. There, on the floor, right next to a metal door, was a dark red, almost black, puddle. The viscous liquid was coming through from the bottom of the door.
Sylar gave Matt a worried look, then, motioning for him to step back, he used his telekinesis to do the same thing to this door that he did to the previous one.
Holding up his radioactive hand like a torch, Sylar walked in, followed by Matt. The sight that met them stopped them both in their tracks.
"Oh my God," Matt managed to mutter.
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"Drink it all up, darling. It'll help work those drugs out of your system," Mohinder told Molly, handing her a glass of milk. She was now sitting up in bed, squinting as the sun began to rise and come through the curtains.
Molly smiled and swallowed some of the milk. "Mohinder, do you think Matt and the B—Sylar—will find Claire?" she asked her guardian.
Mohinder sighed and took the glass from Molly when she was done. "I don't know. I hope they find her soon."
As if someone heard Mohinder's request, the phone rang, and he got up to answer.
It was Matt. "You have to come down here," the former cop said in a terribly broken voice.
Mohinder furrowed his brow. "What happened? Did you find Claire?"
"Yeah…yeah, we found her. But the way we found her—oh God, Mohinder. They—they butchered her!"
Mohinder turned at looked at Molly, who looked at him in fear. "I'll be right there," he said to Matt, and hung up.
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Jed just stared at his food. He had no appetite. He had killed three people before, and tore a girl apart, and now it finally hit him.
It hadn't hit Reid yet, apparently. He was tucking into his food with a vigor usually reserved for after a marathon run. After abandoning the subway station, Reid felt terribly hungry. So they found a diner across town and stopped in there, planning to run as soon as they were done. Finally he realized his brother wasn't eating, and put down his fork for the first time since their food had arrived.
"What's wrong? Burger's bad?" Reid asked with food still in his mouth.
Jed shook his head, his eyes beginning to form tears. "How can you sit there and eat like nothing just happened? I—I just ripped the heart out of a girl!" his voice broke and he held his head in his hands.
Reid groaned and took another bite of his French toast. Jed continued to sob.
"How did we become monsters, Reid? All we wanted was to avenge our brother's death, and we've become just as bad as his killer! Even Sylar wouldn't do what we did," Jed moaned.
Reid's chewing slowed down. He was really beginning to tire of this bitching and whining. He sighed. The wrong brother had been killed. Granted, Zane wasn't the bravest, or the cleverest. But he was loyal, and if Reid needed him, he'd do whatever was necessary. But it was Zane that was taken from him, and Reid was now stuck with this irritating little coward he had to call brother. He just didn't understand. Well, they had done what they set out to do. Reid was sure that Sylar had found his little girlfriend by now, and now was bearing the brunt of all of his crimes. Technically…he didn't need Jed anymore.
Reid wiped his mouth, then put down his napkin and looked at Jed, who was now wiping his eyes. "Come on," he said, throwing down some money and getting up. "There are some things we need to take care of." He walked out of the diner, Jed following behind.
For some reason, Reid sped up his walking, then quickly rounded a corner. Jed was confused. "Reid?" he called. "The car's not parked there!" Curious, Jed walked around the corner, into the alleyway. Reid wasn't there.
Jed looked around, confused. Behind him, the background of trashcans and boxes began to shimmer and transform, and eventually, the shape of a man could be distinguished. An arm went up, and a gun was fired. Three shots went into Jed's back.
Jed, stiffened, then, feeling the life drain out of him, fell to the ground. Reid materialized completely from his camouflage. He looked down at his brother and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jed," Reid said. "You made me do this." He heard the cries of people who had heard the shot, and knew he'd have to run. Shifting back to camouflage mode, he easily blended into the scenery and walked off.
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Mohinder and Molly took a taxi to the spot that Molly had identified. Mohinder didn't like taking Molly with him, especially after what Matt had said over the phone, but he didn't have a choice.
Matt was standing there, waiting for them. Immediately he walked over to them and took Molly in his arms. "We'll wait here," Matt told him. "Just follow the stairs…and the trail of blood," he added quietly.
Mohinder felt his heart go numb, but he nodded and followed the instructions. As he got closer, the smell of blood hit him strongly. He got to a doorway, and Sylar appeared like a ghost in the threshold.
"Mohinder…" he said in a broken voice.
The geneticist swallowed. "What happened to her?" he asked.
Sylar stepped aside and allowed Mohinder to walk in. Mohinder saw Claire for the first time since she had been kidnapped, and the sight made him turn and vomit the contents of his stomach into the hallway.
"Mohinder…" Sylar said again. Mohinder looked up, wiped his mouth, and nodded. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He walked back in.
She was lying on a table, in restraints. It looked as if all the bones in her body had been broken, as some of her limbs were twisted in unnatural angles. But that was the least of the horror. She had been cut open, her rib cage broken and opened like a window, and there, where her heart should have been, was an empty hole. The vital organ now lay next to her fractured hand. There was blood everywhere—on her, the table, the floor, running into the hallway.
"Ohh…dear God," Mohinder finally managed to say. He clutched the end of a counter, his head and chest feeling cold.
Sylar stood there, looking down on her, into her open, blue, lifeless eyes. "Even with everything I've done—all the people I killed—I never could have brought myself to do something like this. I never wanted to make anyone suffer, I just…wanted what they had." He gently touched Claire's forehead. "They did this to her. To get to me. Molly was right. They hurt her to hurt me."
Mohinder gulped. "You called me here…to help you clean her up? Bury her?"
Sylar spun around. "What the hell are you talking about? I called you here so you could save her life."
Mohinder was puzzled. "Sylar…she's dead. Granted, I know she has incredible healing powers, but…but…"
Sylar walked over to Mohinder and put his hands on his shoulders. "She can be brought back. We still have her heart. You-you can put it back into her. Her brain is still intact. That's what is vital."
"Sylar…"
"You're a doctor. You can do this."
"I'm a geneticist, not a surgeon. This isn't my field of expertise!"
"But you know something about this! Please, Mohinder, you're the only one who can do this."
Mohinder looked at the man who had caused so much misery and pain, who now himself was in agony and was pleading with him. But how could he bring Claire back to life? He knew nothing about doing a surgery like this.
Sylar continued to stare intently at him. "Mohinder. I know I've wronged you. Greatly. You could call us even. I caused you a great pain, and now I'm hurting as well. But—but Claire doesn't deserve this to happen to her! Please. I'm not asking for me. I'm asking for her. Please. Save her life!"
Mohinder sighed. He thought of his father in that moment, trying to prove his theories, trying to keep Mohinder away from it all. He thought of what Sylar had told him about his feelings for Chandra. But he couldn't think of his father right now. He couldn't think of the one he couldn't save. He had to think of the one he could.
"All right," he relented. He looked around. "From the looks of it, most of the tools we need are here. We're going to need to wash everything…and clean up the blood." He now walked up to Sylar, who was still staring down at Claire's body. "I want to warn you…I make no promises. I don't know if I can bring her back or not."
Sylar turned to him, his eyes dark and piercing. "I understand. All I want is for you to try."
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He had replaced Claire's heart, reattaching the aorta. As gently as he could, he brought the ribcage back together, then the flaps of flesh that had been cut open. But the skin didn't mend itself the way it had when Claire had been on the autopsy table before. Mohinder looked down at it and sighed, then turned to his assistant. "I'm going to need a needle and thread."
Sylar looked through the tools on the counters, and finally found a sharp needle and twine. "Will this work?" he asked, handing it to Mohinder.
Mohinder took it and nodded. "We have no choice."
Carefully he stitched the two flaps of flesh together, bringing the ends tight together so that air would not leak in. He did two rows, back and forth. Then he covered her with the shirt she had been wearing.
They waited. Nothing.
After ten minutes, Mohinder sighed and walked to the counter, leaning against it. He was dreading having to say it, but he had to. "She's not coming back this time, Sylar. She's reached the point of no return."
"No. No, she hasn't, Mohinder," Sylar said calmly. "We just need to give her more time." He leaned over Claire's body, her eyes still glazed over, her skin a lifeless pale. "Claire? Claire, I know you can hear me." He took her bruised and broken hand in his. "Chief…" he said in a tender, hoarse voice.
Still, there was no response. Mohinder tried to say what he needed to say as delicately as he could. "We need to track down Claire's parents…and tell them what's happened."
"No!" Sylar cried. The box of surgical instruments suddenly flew off the table and smashed against the wall. Mohinder watched in fear as all the objects on the counter began to fly and hit the walls at various angles. He ducked into a corner and shielded his head, fearing that something might hit him.
"I'm not going to let her go!" Sylar cried, still holding Claire's hand. It was then that he realized that the hand, which had been cold up until then, had some warmth in it.
Gasping, he dropped it. Curious, Mohinder walked closer to the table and stood next to Sylar. The two men watched in amazement as the bones in the hand began to reshape themselves, the skin regaining its natural color. There was a disturbing thunder of cracking sounds as the bones in Claire's body began to come together as they were supposed to, fusing and unfusing where necessary.
Intrigued, Mohinder pulled up the girl's shirt to reveal that the skin was now growing together, the twine unloosening itself from its fleshy material.
Finally, the pale, glossy look in Claire's eyes vanished, and she took a deep breath in and coughed raggedly.
"You were right," Mohinder said in wonder. "She's alive."
Claire looked down at herself, then at the two men and sat up, pulling her shirt closely around her. "What the hell's going on?" she demanded. "Why was I lying topless on a table with you two staring at me?"
Sylar just shook his head. "We thought we'd lost you. Mohinder…well, he had to do some surgery on you."
That's when she remembered. "Jed and Reid!"
"Who?" Mohinder asked.
"They're the ones who kidnapped me!" Claire now turned to Sylar. "Do you remember someone named Zane Taylor?"
Sylar's and Mohinder's eyes both grew wide and they looked at each other. "We both remember Zane," Mohinder said, with some anger in his voice.
"He was their brother." Claire looked around. "Let's get out of here. We need to find them."
Mohinder helped Claire off of the table. Still looking at her, he said, "We should let Matt know Claire's fine." But when he turned, Sylar was gone.
