Fate, in the hand of men
- a Heroes story -

Author: ryuosen
Artist: davinci's girl
written for heroes bigboom
Genre: Action, Drama, Angst, Scifi, Het, Slash
Rating: R for violence, rape, language, sexual themes,
Summary:
Everything changed with Claire's dive off the Ferris Wheel, just not for the better. When life became unbearable, there was no choice but to rebel. Yet for all their power, they're still losing. With their last chance, Peter, the right man for the job, used Hiro's power to stop Claire from ever taking the dive. Pity that he got himself killed beforehand, leaving Sylar with the task. Pity that he died too...
Notes:
A big thank you to Ayou for listening to my ideas, whining and for kicking my ass, when it was necessary. To davinci's girl for the beautiful cover and the awesome fanmix booklet. Thanks a lot. It was great to work with you!

Chapter 3 - a plan

New York 2006

Emma was still in shock as she sat on one of the many chairs in the area of examination room 23. She couldn't believe what had happened, the patient had woken up. Had woken up and grabbed her arms as if such things like muscle atrophy didn't exist. While she knew that all patients got their weekly exercises, it shouldn't be possible. In all her time as a medicine student, later a resident and now as a file clerk she had never heard of something like this.

Now she was waiting for doctor Miligan to finish his initial examination.

She had been given the day off while a nurse tried to reach the only living relative the man still had. At least now she knew his name. It was a weird name and reminded her of her youth but when she spoke it and watched the lights float in the air she couldn't help but think it beautiful.

It really had a certain ring to it.

Parting her lips she had just formed the first syllable as the door opened and the doctor stepped out. Quickly she rose and greeted him again, receiving a smile in return.

"How is he doing doctor?"

"Emma you know I cannot tell you that. You'll have to ask his mother when she comes in."

For a moment she looked disbelieving at the man, they both know that she had the clearance to simply read the file. But she's here out of concern and didn't want to snoop after the young man like she was some weird stalker. Sighing she let her shoulders slump. Alright then she would have to read the file.

"You know that he never had a visitor in all the years he's been here, don't you?"

"I know that Emma but the rules are in place for a reason. We both know that."

Then he handed her the file and left without a word. For a moment she was bewildered but eventually she opened it and glanced over the first page before slamming the folder shut again.

Impossible!

What she had just read there couldn't be possible even if he had heard everything over the years. It defied everything they knew about the brain. Shocked she sank onto the chair, she had occupied before. Ten minutes later she is still sitting there as the nurse came to tell her that the mother was in a nursing home with bad case of dementia. Her son had been lost to her a long time ago. Besides for her, he was still a child, even in her memories, not a grown man. She wouldn't recognize him anyway.

So they were back to the beginning, before he had woken up. A young man with no one to visit him. Resolutely Emma stood up, if there was no one to get to know this new person then she would be the one to do so. Looking at the file she knew that she wouldn't have an opportunity to visit now. The doctor had only left for a short break before the tests would resume. But tomorrow she promised herself, tomorrow she would visit.

Tucking the folder in its designated place next to the door she left. Life had thrown enough curveballs at her for one day. But tomorrow she would get her answers and she would find out how a man.. boy who she had never met before in her life knew her name.

San Francisco 2015

A sickening intake was all they heard as Claire returned to life. But neither paid attention to her. All they could think about was that Peter had been hit with shanti and that he was the one they counted on to travel back in time. But now they didn't have any antidote anymore to cure him. Besides Peter was also mortally wounded, the blood still dripping from the gaping hole above where his heart was, spoke silent volumes.

"You'll.. have to do it."

Peter had been the first to speak and it was the only solution he could think of. Sylar would have to take the ability with his empathy and then make the jump back. Slowly he crawled over to where the former serial killer propped against the debris, regenerating and still looking at him dumbfounded. Had it been any other situation Peter would have rejoiced in shaking Sylar's composure, but knowing that his death was imminent took the jest out of it quite well.

"I can't Peter, I have never been able to take an ability from you."

Luckily Sylar's head had already regenerated completely, the speed was incredible and even superior to Claire's. But at the moment Peter wasn't interested in that but the damning stubbornness that matched the one of the Petrellis any day. Didn't the other see that this was their only choice?

"But you n..need have to.. I can't."

And it was the truth, he felt already the effects of the virus. He couldn't do anything, least of all using his acquired power. Coughing he felt blood dribble down his chin and it only made him beg Sylar more. He hadn't used the look that Nathan had once upon a time called puppy eyes in years but now he gave it his best go. All to persuade Sylar, anything to change their fate. Peter knew that Sylar had come to the same conclusion as he had, however his concerns were also warranted.

Despite that they had known each other for years, seen each other at their best and worst, Sylar had never been able to empathize enough with him to take an ability. Not for their lack of trying either. Countless times they had sat together in one of their many shelters, always on the run but whenever they had the time they had tried. There had been countless situations and emotions used to establish a connection, starting with how both their mothers' had always expected more from them then they could give, that they both had loved Elle to that they were apparently the only specials able to replicate powers.

Nothing had helped, not this, not that. Eventually they had run out of ideas to try and stopped.

But now they had only one go before all was lost and Peter was desperately searching his brain for something they had in common which might connect them deeply enough. Sylar's expression mirrored his thoughts. He, too, was searching for something to empathize and turning up flat. In the background they could hear the machines that dampened their powers and Claire's coughing as her lungs repaired themselves.

Peter was once more perusing a route over his mother. She had after all shaped their lives in many ways.

Briefly he drifted back towards the day, when she had died, and did a double-take. His mother's filtered through his brain and only then he remembered that she had something about a key... she had known that he would die and he hadn't even realized it but what was the last word she had spoken?

He knew it had started with an "A" but what had followed. Now he wished he had paid more attention after she had mentioned Hiro but it was too late now to cry over spilled milk. Wiping the blood from his mouth he studied Sylar. What else did they share that connected them, aside from their mothers, the nature of their power, their desperate need to act, to be the hero and suddenly it was right in front of his eyes and he laughed. Hacking and coughing, splattering blood over his skin as he realized that it had been easy the whole time, but they had been too blind to see it.

Where stemmed their need to be a hero from? Their wishes to be something special, to stand out against the masses?

Pulling himself closer to Sylar, grabbing one of his hands and interlaced their fingers, while ignoring Sylar's questions. Instead he pulled himself up until they were on one eye level. Looking into the brown colored depths Peter discovered to his own surprise that Sylar's eyes weren't just brown but had golden flecks in them, still they looked at him in confusion. Their strategic mastermind hadn't realized it yet.

"I know now, what we both want the most. What made us who we are and what drives us even now."

Leaning close he whispered to Sylar, his breath puffing against dry lips as he spoke.

Our wish to be accepted... for what we are.

His lips sealed Sylar's before he even had a chance to respond. Peter dearly hoped that he had found their common ground and that it was enough, because he had accepted Sylar a long time ago. Maybe even before he had gifted him with a new copy of his book while they had been trapped in a lonely nightmare.

As far as kisses went, well he could honestly say that this was the first time he ever kissed a male. He had also prior this moment never thought about doing it and the kiss sucked, big time. Sylar was frozen in place, their lips were split and dry and he could taste his own blood between them.

Then however he felt it: heat.

Searing hot heat, he usually associated with arousal or passion. It washed over him and then they were kissing properly before something itching ran alongside his hand interlaced with Sylar's. He just knew that it had worked. His task was done.

It was a good way to die.

Breaking the kiss he smiled at Sylar, a big lopsided smile that hopefully conveyed all his trust, all his emotions. Despite his inability to understand them currently, he was at peace with himself. Breathing out he leaned forward and rested his head on the naked bony shoulder, now that the distraction was over, the pain returned. He coughed and felt more blood drip from his chin, he watched it dripping onto Sylar's naked chest. A good way to die indeed. With that thought Peter stopped fighting his desire to sleep.

Breathing out he closed his eyes and let go. He never heard Claire's shrill screams in the background.

New York 2006

Peter's examination took almost two hours before either he or Angela were allowed to see him. By then he was already again under the effects of a strong sedative. According to the nurse he had screamed, pleaded and outright begged to be left alone as they had conducted the examination.

Nathan knew in normal cases the examination was to be stopped immediately. But this wasn't the norm, this was Peter Petrelli and Nathan would rather rot in hell than letting that bastard get away with what he had done to Peter. So they had proceeded on his word until one of the nurses couldn't bear to listen to Peter's pleas anymore and sedated him after having his bloodwork taken.

"So doctor what can you tell us?"

"As far as the SOEC kit goes, we have definite signs of rape."

Their mother flinched at that but the doctor paid it no heed and continued with his diagnosis.

"We have collected the clothes, blood -, urine and hair samples as well as the traces beneath his fingernails. Extragenital areas such as mouth, throat, wrists and thighs show signs of trauma as do the genital areas. Frankly speaking, it was a miracle that we didn't need stitches. We also found abrasions that could be scars. However, it can either indicate that he had anal sex prior to this incident or that it has been going on for some time. We cannot say for certain."

Nathan didn't how he was keeping the coffee down, but he did and it was a miracle. Even before the doctor had opened his mouth, he had felt sick to the stomach. A side glance at his mother showed that she was barely holding onto her own composure.

"We will do a test for STDs and send the remaining evidence to the police station."

"Officer McKinnon is handling the case. Here is his card."

The doctor didn't look surprised. He took the card and nodded briefly before allowing them to see Peter. Nathan didn't know if it was just him or did his mother dread seeing Peter as he did. He knew why, going into that hospital room would make everything real. He wouldn't wake up next to Heidi with a nightmare but had to accept that his brother would need him from now on. There was no telling how Peter would come out of this.

"Mrs. Petrelli, there is one more question I like to have answered."

They both stopped and waited for the doctor to voice his question.

"Was Mr. Petrelli ever before diagnosed with latrophobia?"

For a moment she looked confused before eventually shaking her head and Nathan could only agree. While Peter had always tried to avoid the needles when sick, he had never shown fear of medical personnel before, not like he had today.

"Not that I know of doctor. He is a hospice nurse. If he had a problem with medics, he would be working in the wrong branch."

Knocking slightly they entered the room. Peter was sleeping in a hospital bed wearing scrubs which had been provided after the examination. His face had regained some of his tanned color, lessening the severity the bruises. It was a false comfort. Nathan pulled a chair from the table in the corner and sat down, taking Peter's hand in his own. His hands and wrists had been bandaged but he could still see the discoloration where the fabric ended.

Angela followed suit, taking the other chair provided.

Her fingers were caressing her son's face and Nathan could see as her apathetic emotionless mask fractured. Peter really looked terrible, nothing like the man they both knew. He couldn't read his mother's thoughts but he knew that they both wondered if Peter would still be the vibrant man they both loved, when he woke up. Only time would tell and Nathan hated it. He was helpless and couldn't protect his brother as he had always done before. Now it was up to Peter and if the scene in his bedroom was any indication they were all in for a long ride.

"What are we going to do with him once he wakes up?"

"He should stay at one of our places until this is all over. Besides there is still the matter of his attacker. We can't be certain that he wont return. Tomorrow I will make sure that he is brought into a secure wing."

Stopping her motions, Angela regarded him for a few seconds, before resuming what she had been doing. Nathan simply watched Peter's face, finally not marred by an expression of pain. Unlike how he had looked inside his apartment hiding beneath a sheet in a corner.

"We'll need to be careful. Your run for congressman can either be made of fall because of this. There is no room for foul play or error. However no one will think anything of it if you add another point to your campaign."

"And what would you have me add?"

Now Angela looked at him like he was an idiot and Nathan felt like one, too. Whatever she had thought of, had to do with Peter and therefore with this situation. Yet he couldn't figure out, what she meant and told her so.

"Nathan, it's simple really. Peter's a Petrelli and our name carries quite a lot of influence over the police, especially with you as attorney. The police has already done more for him than they might do for most male rape victims. This type of crime is a taboo and the system is barely equipped to deal with it. Break that taboo, make yourself strong for more equality and a certain percentage of 4.5% of New York's population will thank you for it."

He studied his mother's face for a few moments, the room quiet save the equipment that monitored Peter's condition before he smiled. Nodding he excused himself briefly to speak with his campaign manager. Angela was left alone with her youngest child, who was still sleeping peacefully under the effects of the medication. Pushing his bangs to the side she studied his face, her fingers sliding over the bruised cheekbone.

Fury gripped her and she had to pull her hand away, lest she woke Peter or worse hurt him. Sharp polished nails dug into her purse as she took once more in what had become of Peter. It made her think of the dreams she didn't have anymore

Dreams of fire and an exploding New York... just like they had planned.

It was no more, somehow the future had been changed. Peter would no longer explode and she didn't know whether to be grateful or angered that all their carefully laid-out plans had been messed up. The explosion had been supposed to unite the world and Nathan would have been the person to keep it all together.

But that future was no more and she didn't know why.

Despite dreaming every night she had yet to find out what had changed, she knew however the why.

A man...or a woman...

She knew that he or she was the reason that Peter would no longer explode and she was also certain that whoever he or she was, knew that she was searching for him. He might be a dreamwalker as well. The dreams were too frequent, too rhythmic in their concision. No someone was manipulating them and she had no idea on how to stop it, she had long since lost control over them.

Most of the times Peter was the center figure in her dreams before others appeared around him in a specific pattern. Some she knew, Nathan's daughter Claire or the son of Chandra Suresh. Others were unfamiliar to her like the blond woman with a dark skinned man, a cop or a bespectacled Asian. They all stood around her youngest son until they all dissolved in nothing more than smoke, blown away by a breeze she couldn't feel. It was a sign she knew, but the knowledge of the meaning eluded her. Never before had she had symbolic dreams. She didn't know what to make of them.

Then he came, like a shadow closing in on Peter and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't see a face. Darkness slid over his form until he stood right behind Peter, towering over her son. Yet he did nothing and suddenly it was a woman behind Peter with her hands sliding over his shoulders, whispering something into his ear while she showed him something in her other hand.

Shapeshifter, perhaps?

Suddenly it would all be gone and he would be there, standing back to back with her. He had an incredible control over dreams. Angela couldn't move, couldn't speak, only wait.

"Your plans wont come to fruition. I wont allow it."

Just like that, like smoke and mirrors, he would be gone again and she could finally wake up.

Angela turned to the door as Nathan entered again, a satisfied expression on his face. In return she offered him a small smile before rising. It was time she got home. There were still preparations to be made. It was out of question that Peter would stay anywhere but their home.

"Will you stay in this room?"

"No, I spoke with the doctor again. Peter wont be awake for another 24 hours and I need to see how Heidi's doing. We can come back tomorrow morning."

"Very well, I will have everything prepared for Peter to recover at home. Also inform me as soon as the police clears his apartment. It will need quite a bit of work."

Nathan nodded and watched as his mother left. Wishing Peter a good night he left as well closing the door behind himself. Thinking he had heard something, Nathan turned around to come face to face with a small brunette woman in hospital scrubs. He noted that she looked like she was swimming in them, exposing more skin than covering. The woman offered him a smile before lifting a finger to her lips before she slowly passed Peter's room and disappeared in another corridor. Frowning at the meeting Nathan shrugged, it wasn't any of his business what the other patients were doing.

Walking away he never noticed that the door to Peter's room opened and small shadow vanished inside.

San Francisco 2015

Both Sylar's and Claire's attention was solely focused on Peter or rather Peter's body because that was all that was left of him. Sylar had known the moment he had seen that smile, full of hope and love. His empathy had flared in response but at the same time he had heard the rapidly failing heart beat. Nothing more than a broken rhyme reaching his ears, they had known better would die, just not how quick, not this quick.

Sylar carefully lowered him onto the ground next to him pushing the far too long bangs aside as he did so, almost a caress. Peter looked peaceful in death, a small smile gracing his lips and weren't if for the lack of breathing one might think that he was just asleep.

He wasn't though, but they hadn't lost hope. Peter's death had given them their only chance.

"Did it work?"

Turning his head around he came face to face with Claire. The young woman was less than two feet behind him, stark naked. Yet he felt no desire or passion pool in his gut at the sight of her beautiful unmarred body, instead he calmly met her gaze. Likewise she was equally unimpressed with him, having just finished regenerating, just as bare. After having both had died too often in fires, they had decided to only wear extremely flammable clothes. It was simply too much pain to be killed again during the the process of cutting the melted clothes from their bodies. It had been years since Claire's presence had done anything for Sylar but make him feel guilty. Though by now he knew that he alone wasn't to blame for the course Claire's life had taken.

"Yes, it worked. Peter did it."

They had placed their faith and fate in Peter's hands and he hadn't disappointed them.

Claire's face was without expression. Most would have thought that the news would fill her with joy but her lips were pulled in a hard line. His gift was understanding and he knew immediately that she begrudged him that he would be the one to save them all. It's a curious thing and reminded Sylar of someone nearly equally naive and self-righteous. But Peter had learned through pain, blood and sacrifice until there was nothing left but the bare bones of the man who had once saved a cheerleader to save the world.

His niece on the other hand had gotten many positive reactions up to the day she had been kidnapped. Afterwards she had spent years in an artificial coma while some sick scientist tried to find out what made her tick and used every bit of her body like some a freaking blood bank and organ donation. She had only learned of their war after Bennet and Sylar had broken her out of the facility she had been held in. While Claire wasn't to blame for her fate, Sylar still fully blamed her for continued pigheadedness when it came to the war.

"Why don't we try negotiating?"

She had been prepared to shoot Peter should he explode, even if Peter would have come back to life later. Claire had been prepared for murder. Or the time when she had crashed the car with that wannabe rapist inside. Not that he would have begrudged her the revenge she had sought. But it contradicted with everything else Sylar had ever heard from her. He had never understood why she hesitated when it came to normal humans.

Perhaps he wasn't meant to understand her.

It made him think of the tattoo that at one point had been resting on his lower arm depicting a girl that had only existed in Sylar's fantasy. But beggars couldn't be choosers and that time he had few options left. Many people hated him, too many.

"Negotiation? Peter tried, he tried for years after you vanished. Want to know where it gotten him?"

He got up and faced Claire. The gunfire had ceased for the time being, but probably only long enough for the humans to get their other equipment running. In no time the heat of the explosion would be gone and their temperature sensors would pick up on both him and Claire. One way or another they needed to leave, fast.

"We have to move."

Claire nodded but stayed where she was. Only as Sylar passed her did she act. Her fingers closed around his arm in an iron grip, stopping him from moving further. Facing her Sylar found himself surprised to see an unusually soft expression on her face. It only lasted seconds before it changed into something of determination and resolve. He watched as she strode over to a pile of debris and pulled something from behind it. Startled that some of their weaponry had survived the explosion, he tried to grab a rifle himself only to have his hand smacked away.

"What was that for, they'll be coming any minute."

She only glared and grabbed what looked like a grenade belt before hoisting the rifle over her bare shoulder. Sylar remembered packing them for ambushes. Listening to Claire's cursing he examined a pistol. It wasn't too badly damaged, merely the surface had quite a few scratches. Everything important, like safety, trigger, hammer and the barrel still seemed to be intact. It would have to do. There was another belt. Hastily he stuffed two clips of ammo into the loops before looking around.

"Seems as if none of our clothing survived. You think us being in the buff will throw them off?"

Claire didn't answer and for a second Sylar thought she had left. Yet her heartbeat was still clearly sounding in his ears. She couldn't be more than a few feet away from him. He turned his head to see her standing at the destroyed opening of their shelter and for a few moments he was reminded of a porn he had watched behind his mother's back during his teenage years, something about "Girls with guns". The former cheerleader still didn't wear anything safe for the grenade belt she had handled before. In her hands was a grenade launcher. Sylar had no idea that they even had one.

Her face showed nothing but grim determination. Sylar knew that expression. Claire was about to do something stupid.

"Sylar..."

Peter often had worn the same expression before throwing himself headfirst into danger.

"I forgive you."

Then she was gone, leaving a frozen Sylar behind.