Chapter Four: In Love And Death

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He picked me up in his arms and took me down the hallway to his bedroom. And...well, here you can use your imagination because I am certainly not going to describe what happened next.

If it is at all possible I was happier than I had even been after that night. Everything seemed to go right. My exam results came back and I had aced every one of them, even the ones I was sure I was going to fail. Peter and Gabriel were going strong, although keeping their relationship low key. Even Mama and Papa Petrelli seemed to have gotten used to our relationship.

And Nathan? He was as adroable as ever.

When I began to vomit every morning I simply thought I was coming down with the flu. After all Nathan had used a condom. Mum decided to check, just in case, and bought at least three different types of pregnancy tests. They all said the same thing: positive.

I tried to tell Nathan but he was always busy so one day, in front of Gabriel, Peter and at least three other customers, I said for all the world to hear that I was pregnant.

Nathan was, understandably, stunned. That didn't last long, though. Before I knew what was happening he had picked me up and spinning me around, laughing. Needless to say I was very happy with his reaction, and also needed to go to the bathroom afterwards. Pregnancy isn't kind to spinning.

Peter, Gabriel and those three customers congratulated Nathan while I was in the bathroom and the three customers actually stayed to congratulate me once I had return from my bathroom trip.

About a month later Angela asked if she could speak to me privately. I was at Peter's, watching Blonde Ambition for the hundredth time and, because she seemed to have mellowed abit, I said yes.

She drew me into one of the many living rooms and motioned me to a nearby sofa. We sat in silence for a moment as we sized each other up. At least, I think that was what we were doing. Certainly she stared at me for a long time.

I was about to aske her whether I could leave, since no matter how many times I see Blonde Ambition it never loses its charms, when she spoke.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Since I didn't think Angela had pulled me into the living room to chat about the meaning of life I said, "Ah, no."

She smiled. It was a rather sad smile. "I'm here to warn you."

"About what?" I prompted, since she seemed to want a response.

Apparently I had given the right one because she continued. "Your relationship with Nathan has affect him – and the plans we have for him – in many ways. You are becoming a liability and need to be taken care of. My husband...well, let's just say you don't want to know what he wants to do. Because I think you are a very sensible girl I have taken it upon myself to reason with you."

As she said this I went through a variety of emotions. At first, as always, I was a bit slow on the uptake. Then I got angry. Okay, maybe there wasn't that much variety. I knew what she was leading up to: she wanted me to leave Nathan. Otherwise something horrible would happen to me. I was starting to feel like a character in a movie; you know, they pay off the lover so that their offspring will not be distracted from their studies/tennis career/etc, although usually my part is played a guy.

She sounded so reasonable as though everything was inevitable. It infuriated me as that sort of attitude always does.

I stood up, because a) it gave me some height over her (not that that was a problem) and b) I could walk away more quickly.

"How dare you?" I asked in a very quiet deadly tone, I think. "Who do you think you are, to ask – no, tell me to leave me?"

She opened her mouth to saying something but I gave her no opportunity. "I don't give a fuck about your stupid plans for him. And I certainly don't give a fuck what you throw my way. You," I added, taking a leaf out of Cecilia and Buffy's books, "are beneath me."

I was in the process of walking out of the door (and probably out of the house) when she said, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

I paused for a second beside the door then left. I felt very empowered as I did, as though I had accomplished something by standing up to Angela. But as I walked down the streets leading to Sylar's another emotion overtook me: fear.

I had heard the rumours about Papa Petrelli, that he was somehow connected to the mob. I had dismissed it because it didn't really matter whether he was or not. What if they were true? I was so screwed if they were.

I told Nathan about my conversation with his mother once I arrived. There were only two other people in the store so he merely pulled me behind the counter as I did.

He didn't laugh at my fears. In fact, he got that serious expression on his face which meant that he was trying very hard not to show his anger. Nathan rarely got angry, or lost his temper, but when he did...well, let me just say you wouldn't want to be around when that happened.

He managed to calm me down a bit, although I could tell he was going to have a serious talk with his father. I left, not exactly smiling but on my way there.

And then, just a few seconds from the door, I felt a pain in my chest. I grimaced and pressed my hand to the spot. It came away covered in blood. On top of my slowness I am also slightly deaf at times. I know this because Nathan, and the other two customers, had come rushing out just seconds after I felt that pain in my chest.

I turned to look at Nathan and, like a child with something it does not understand, showed him my bloody hand. His expression as I did so was twisted as though he was the one in pain.

I felt myself falling backwards. Thankfully Nathan caught me otherwise I would be adding a cracked skull to my list of complaints.

"Nathan?" I whispered because somehow I couldn't get my voice to go nay higher. "What's happening?"

He choked. His eyes appeared to have gotten wet. "Still as slow as ever, Rachel." He hesitated then decided to tell me. "You've been shot."

I processed this information as I heard one of the customers call 911 and talk to the person on the other end. "I've been shot." I repeated it just to see how it would sound on my lips. Not very nice sounding at all.

I started to cry and, in the process, panic. "Nathan, don't let me die. Please, Nathan, don't let me die. I can't die, Nathan. Nathan, please," I sobbed in his arms. How could everything change so much in just a few minutes?

He was crying too. "Stay with me, Rachel. I won't let you die, I promise. You won't die. You won't die." He began repeating this like some sort of mantra, as though if he said it enough times it would become true. He rocked me gently in his arms.

After a few minutes, in which the customer who had called 911 told us the ambulance would be here as soon as possible, a sort of calm came over me. I was going to die. It was as simple as that. I stopped crying and, taking Nathan's head in my hands, made him look me in the eye.

"Nathan," I said seriously, enunciating every word. "I will always love you." I took a deep breath. "And my answer will always be yes."

I tried to take another breath but something was preventing me, as though there was something sitting on my chest cutting off my air supply.

Nathan kept saying, "Stay with me, Rachel, stay with me," over and over again. But repeating this rarely makes them come true, unless you're Dorothy Gail and 'there is no place like home.'

I stopped breathing as the ambulance pulled up on the curb. Although they did everything they could, I died at 2:41pm exactly.

They never caught whoever shot me. But I knew who was behind it. And so did Nathan.