Chapter Five: Super Dead

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"Guys, I don't think we should be doing this."

"Zack, this diamond ring is worth millions – even billions – of dollars so we are doing this whatever you say."

"Lyle, this is wrong. Don't you think it's wrong, Greg?"

"No."

"Okay, Zack. This is getting old fast. You are going to retrieve the ring. No arguing."

Zack looked down at the open grave and the corpse inside. Its flesh had rotted away until it was little more than a skeleton. He took a steadying breath and jumped down.

As he reached out towards the diamond ring on one of the corpse's rotting fingers, he hesitated. "Guys..." he began only to be interrupted by Lyle who said, "No arguing."

Zack sighed petulantly, reached down and grabbed the finger the diamond ring nestled on. There was a burst of bright light and the only thing Zack could think to say was, "Oh shit."

I sat up suddenly, gasping for air, feeling myself...rejuvenate. I held my hands up in front of my face and watched as the muscles, and later the flesh, regrew. It was a fascinating process, let me tell you. And rather nauseating.

Then I noticed, belatedly (apparently death didn't affect that Famous Slowness of mine), that a boy was standing over me, a very shocked expression on his face. I glanced behind him to see another boy and a very grizzled looking man peering down into the grave, with that same shocked expression on their faces.

Since they didn't appear to be about to say anything enlightening I touched my hair to see if it was all there. It was. It was longer than it had been, but that was to be expected. As were the overlong fingernails. I gazed at them, frowning.

I don't know why I did it. I flicked one of my fingernails. It broke off immediately. I repeated the process with all of my fingernails until they were as short as they had been. I did not try that experiment on my hair.

That done I glanced back up at the three gaping males above me. They had not moved an inch. I was rather impressed.

Then it hit me all that once. I remembered...everything. My life in New Zealand...my parents...my friendship with Peter...with Gabriel...my crush on Nathan...Nathan's proposal...my unexpected but absolutely thrilling pregnancy...At that point I put my hand on my stomach as though doing that would somehow give me a clue as to whether my baby was alive.

The respite didn't last long. I remembered...my conversation with Angela...my fear...the pain in my chest, as though someone had ripped out my heart...Nathan, crying and saying, "Stay with me, Rachel, stay with me," over and over again...dying...

Tears spilled out before I could contain them. I glared up at the three stunned males above me. I stood up and grabbed the boy nearest me so fast the other two had no time to react.

"What have you done to me? What have you done to me?" I shouted at him angrily, feeling the tears run down my face. I shook him hard, harder than I meant to. I felt so angry. I could feel it boiling over until I could no longer contain it.

With an animal scream I threw the boy out of the grave. I felt him hit the ground with a sickening crunch. My anger left me.

I jumped out of the grave, barely giving a thought to how easy it had been, and bent to examine the boy. The other two merely stared at me, their mouths wide open. They would be no help.

"Are you alright?" I asked, all concern now.

He grinned shakily up at me. "Yeah. I think I'm just...in shock." He tried to sit up and grimaced. Apparently he was not as alright as he had claimed.

"I'm so sorry..." I groped for words. "I...was just so angry and...I didn't think."

The boy smiled. "Well, we were trying to rob you...so I guess I deserved it."

I blinked. "Rob me? Of what?"

"Your ring." This was the other boy, who seemed to have found his voice at last.

I looked down at said ring. It was the engagement ring Nathan had given me. I barely remembered him putting it on. Some instinct made me place my other hand over it protectively.

There was a silence, broken only seconds later by the grizzled man. "So, Zack," he said, putting his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. Well, it was pretty cold. "Why didn't you tell us you had a power?"

"I...didn't know I had one." The boy I had manhandled, whose name appeared to be Zack, gingerly got to his feet. I followed suit, trying to apologise a second time. He waved my apology away.

All three of them looked at me.

I tried to begin a conversation but, never having been good at that sort of thing before, faulted before I had even started. "So..." I began and then waited for someone to fill in the blank. No one did.

They eventually took me with them to their place of residence, a very large four bedroom apartment, complete with kitchen, bathroom and laundry. I had a feeling they had robbed quite a few graves to pay for this place.

I fell on the bed they gave me with a sigh. It made an ominous creaking sound then promptly broke in half. The other three were very interested in this and, although we were all tired, kept me up half the night testing me.

It turns out that when Zack brought me back to life I came back...changed. Obviously I thought of Buffy. But it was different from that. I was stronger, more agile. Although I couldn't see through walls I could see the bacteria in the mould behind the toilet. And I could hear...things. Not beasts in the night or something rubbish like that. No, it was more like I could hear something that happened miles away. My sense of smell had heightened as well. That was not pleasant.

Although I was fascinated by what had happened to me somehow I couldn't express it. I know this is going to sound very clichéd but...some part of me was missing and I had a feeling it was my heart.

Greg and I put Zack and Lyle, who had fallen asleep due to pure exhaustion, to bed. All Greg did was look at me a certain way and I was spilling my guts, so to speak. He started a little when he heard me mention Peter Petrelli but other than that made no sound.

When I had finished he was silent for a moment. Then he walked over to the rubbish bin and picked out a newspaper. Without a word he gave it to me.

On the front page was Nathan, doing that presidential wave that, for some reason, all politicians end up doing. The article below said that Nathan Petrelli, former assistant district attorney, was running for Senator. He was supported in his campaign by his wife, Heidi, and their two sons as well as by his mother, Angela Petrelli. Sadly his father, Arthur Petrelli, had died of a heart attack a few months back. His younger brother, Peter Petrelli, a former hospice nurse, was in hospital due to his most recent attempt at suicide.

I gazed at the article through tear filled eyes. I took a wobbly breath. "How could this have happened? How could they...change so much?" I glanced up at Greg, who was gazing at me with pity his eyes.

"You died." He sighed. "I suppose you were the glue that kept them together. Doesn't that make you feel all warm and fuzzy?"

"No." I sniffed and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. "No, it doesn't."

"Thought not." He stayed for a moment and, when it became clear I was not going to say anything, left for his unbroken bed.

As soon as he had gone I burst into tears. I sobbed as though my heart was actually inside me instead of on the floor in pieces. I cried myself to sleep but not until I had promised myself that I would right the wrongs that my death had caused. I fell asleep in the kitchen , muttering that to myself.

Thus I woke, cramped and aching, on the floor, surrounding by broken bits of chair. I allowed myself a few curses to express at least some of the anger boiling inside me.

The others didn't seem to be awake as yet so I walked out in search of the hospital Peter was staying at for observation. I wondered what had happened to Gabriel and if he and Peter were still together. Knowing the luck that had been dogging them, I'd say not.

It was surprisingly easy getting into his hospital room. I just said I was his cousin and they, for some reason, believed me. Maybe I looked trustworthy. I was shown into his room and left alone with him.

I sat down gently on the edge of the hospital bed and gazed down at him. He had always looked so vulnerable when he was asleep and that, at least, had not changed. He was still as cute as ever, too.

Maybe he had felt me sit down for it wasn't long before he turned towards me and mutter, "Nathan? Is that you?"

I said, "No," and it was as though he'd been given an electric shock. His eyes wide, he tried to sit up only to get tangled in the tubing surrounding him.

"Rachel?" He seemed very shocked. "Is that – it can't be...Rachel? Is it really you?" He shook his head as though to shake it of all its weird ideas. "You're dead. You can't be here." He started muttering to himself, things along the line of "They can't be right" and "I'm not going mad."

I took his hand in mine, which immediately shut him up. "You're not crazy, Peter," I said, looking him in the eye. "I was dead." I took a deep breath. "And now...I'm not."

Peter, still very pale, gazed down at my hand. "I'll say," he murmured, a tone of wonder entering his voice. He looked up at me. "How..."

I smiled wryly. "Let's just say...a miracle."

"Peter, they said a cousin of ours was here to see you..." Nathan came marching in, purposeful like, and my heart skipped a beat. So, it was there after all. He spluttered to a halt when he saw me and went as pale as Peter had. In fact, if I had seen him on an autopsy table I would have sworn he was dead.

I stood up. He hadn't really changed. Oh, he had aged but the old Nathan was still there, somewhere underneath. I still found him utterly adorable. And yet...he was different. I doubted he had seen a movie in years. I wondered what had happened to Sylar's, if it was still there.

"Nathan," I said, when it appeared that he had nothing to say.

He took a few halting steps into the room and actually reached out a hand to touch my face, just in case I was a figment of his imagination. I sighed at his touch, and he sighed with me.

"Rachel..." he whispered. "You're alive."

"Nathan, is Peter alright? Who was that cousin?" As the dark haired wheelchair bound woman entered the room Nathan quickly removed his hand from my cheek. I tried not to grab it back.

"Heidi," Peter said, saving Nathan from answering. "This is Rachel. We went to school together. When she heard what happened to me she rushed straight over."

I took over. "I'm really sorry of what I said I was caused any alarm it's just that I hadn't seen Peter in a long time and...well...I wanted to see," I finished, rather lamely to my mind.

Although not to Heidi, it seemed. She smiled on hearing how much I had wanted to see Peter and probably thought Peter and I had been involved. She managed to drag Nathan away so that Peter and I could have a 'nice chat.' She probably thought I would do him some good.

I stood for a moment beside the bed and then gently lowered myself back to my sitting position. "So...did you really commit suicide?" I asked, deciding to just go straight to the heart of the matter.

He told me what had happened to him, and I wasn't surprised to hear that Angela had had something to do with him being in hospital. When Peter described 'Claude Rains,' the man who had helped him control his powers, I had to smile. So that was why Greg had started when I had mentioned Peter. What a small world we do live in.

I was not surprised to hear that Peter had a power. It seemed inevitable somehow. He also insisted that Nathan could fly. Somehow that didn't shock me either. I suppose, once you've been brought back from the dead nothing can shock.

Except, in appears, the completely unexpected. When I asked Peter about Gabriel he went very quiet. He eventually told me that Gabriel, unlike we had both thought, didn't love him. That he had only been using him. I had a feeling that that was the whole story there. Gabriel always had his reasons.

However, the next part was what shocked me. Gabriel had adopted the name Sylar (how ironic was that?) and become a serial killer, murdering people for their abilities, which, it appeared, he could collect as easily as bug collector collected bugs. I wondered how quiet, intense Gabriel had become a serial killer.

Everything had changed, as though I'd never been. Nathan was as completely under his parents' (even if one of them was now dead) thumb as though I'd never interfered. Peter had tried to become something else and had been shot down time and time again. Gabriel had become a serial killer.

"What next?" I asked, trying to hold back a sob. "That plan about blowing up half of New York is true?"

Peter looked surprised at my knowledge. I gave a half laugh. Things just kept getting better and better.

"It is, you know," Peter said seriously. "I think they've already got Nathan on their side."

I began to laugh. I remembered the conversation Nathan and I had had, when he had said that he would never do such a thing. And look at him now. Had he completely forgotten me?

Then I remembered the way he'd looked at me, and I stopped laughing. He hadn't.

Peter was gazing at me worriedly. He patted my hand consolingly. "It's alright. You get used to the fucked up way things have turned out."

I almost stopped breathing. "Why?" I gasped out, my throat suddenly raw. "Why should we get used to it? Why can't everything go back to the way it had been? Why?"

"Because...it can't, Rachel," Peter said quietly. "It just can't."