Heroes Volume Three: Villains
Chapter Six: RedemptionElle Bishop: I've gone on many missions. Killed many people. Never fell in love, but I sure strung some people around. Peter Petrelli. Matt Neuenberg. Can they ever forgive me? I doubt it. I've harmed too many people. And do I care? Little. I care nothing about people. But I suppose
Knowing what I know now, can I forgive my dad? I've never really apologized for anything. People are weak, but I am not a normal human. I always have a clear purpose. Maybe my dad's weak too. Maybe I'm too weak…to realize that not even he escapes my social limitation. I could care less about society, and they me.
Regardless of forgiveness and all, there is redemption. I am never wrong in what I do. But people, especially Bob…dad…can perceive things, obviously in the wrong way. And redemption is looking good for them. Or fixing problems. I need to do that. He seems happy to have me back, but am I just a tool? Is he really happy? Is he worthy of my redemption?
Noah Bennett was unaware anything had been going on with his daughter. Some protector. But as far as he knew, he was doing all he could. And it was working. He did not enjoy being lazy, filing paperwork until his partner arrived from New York.
He gazed out the window, pondering. Where was the Haitian? He had aided many ventures not by Bennett's orders, but as he had hacked into the Company's database, even they had lost sight of him as of recent days.
A knock on his door jarred his mind and swung him, as the door opened, into reality. "Hello. Mr. Bennett? I am Maya." A younger woman walked in, on the verge of tears. Thank god they weren't black, he remembered. Recalling his file on her up from his desktop, he saw that she was emotional.
Hate the Company's policy as he might, he would've thought their harsh ways would've tamed that out of her. A tough case, she was. "Hi, I'm Mr. Bennett." He had to keep his identity, or most of it, shrouded again. She'd never match Claude, or the Haitian. But it wouldn't be tough to match Eden. She was too wild and controlling.
Ironic. Now his latest partner was docile and yet had one of the deadliest (by nature, at least. Many powers could be used to kill) powers yet. He had her demonstrate range of control, once they were in the observation room, and merely nodded. Unaware of what to do, he had her sent off to her hotel.
And placed a call.
"Bob, she's too inexperienced. You can't send her out in the field. She doesn't belong here. Not yet." Noah paced back and forth across the floor of his office.
"Look Noah, you no longer have the authority you once did. I'm making the call on this." Bob barked into the phone finitely.
"You're doing to her what you did to your daughter! You're moving too fast!" Noah really was scared for this poor girl. Damn my need to be protective…No, no Noah! You're being drawn in again. Compassion is good.
"Again, Noah. You don't have your own little cell of specials and scientists anymore. What are you going to do?" Bob always had a way of never sounding sarcastic, coming out sincere.
"I…don't know. You could at least respect my seniority, Mr. Bishop." Noah demanded, nonetheless, with the familiar authority of the group leader he once was (and, nominally, still was).
"I am. You are the best suited to become the next step in the Company's plan to get back to where we were. We need the Haitian. Half of these villains, if not all of them, are mad at us more specifically then the world at large. We were aware of this risk, but with the Haitian's power and his great range of control…." Little more needed to be said.
"He's been rather elusive lately. You would think you wouldn't risk the limits of the highest manifesting special in history. There's something more going on here. You know my partner was assigned to me for a reason, as was this mission. What else do you want with the Haitian?" Noah pondered suspiciously.
"Just bring him in. That's all Maya's been instructed to do, as well." Bob Bishop hung up the phone, finishing the first sentence: dead or alive. And Noah was too close to him, to do that. Maya, she knew what was what.
Maya sat and managed more clear tears. Clear as crystal. That was how obvious it should've been to her that Gabriel was nothing more than a…Sylar. That name was synonymous with her grief, with bastard, murderer, and any other word that embodied evil.
She would kill him. No matter what the cost. She would abandon this Bennet, abandon this mission with the Haitian and kill Sylar. No matter what. What he did to her…she was used, toyed with, and her brother was killed. She defied anyone to question her now.
Now, in her suite at Costa Verde, she didn't care. If she was a villain or a hero, she would not go down. Not until Sylar died. She lay down on her pillow resolved. Tomorrow, New York was her dominion. And Sylar was
A wry, evil grin spread across her tanned face.
Across the hall, a blond haired girl checked in. Elle Bishop was haunting her symbol of redemption like a ghost. She knew as well as Noah that Maya wasn't prepared. He father was just too desperate. And she had to get even with the Haitian, herself. She sensed killing in the future, and dreamt a pleasurable dream. Involving what but death, of course?
KIRBY PLAZA, ROUGHLY 5 MONTHS EARLIER
Sylar felt the sword gorge him. So this was death, eh? Interesting. His eyes glazed over as he used some telekinesis to slow and hinder the sword, redirecting it within his organs so he survived. His durability wasn't perfect, but it allowed him to survive and merely lapse into unconsciousness.
Won't that geek be surprised. Believes in fate, hah! I am my own fate, and he is his. And he being who he his, and committing that act, deserves his death. That'll tech him to 'interpret' Isa-…my…power. It is all too literal for them to bear. And he slumped down, over the sewer.
Claude Rains laughed, muffled in a jacket, at the goings on. These heroes actually thought it was over. Such pathetic remnant, they had left behind. That selfish bastard Petrelli and his brother, nothing as long as they were under their mom's eyes. There was only one savior, and he probably, Claude had figured, had multiple powers.
And guess who was the horse, the mustang free from reins? Claude walked over to the sewer, examined the blood on it, and swatted the cockroach crawling across. "Can't believe I'm aiding the bloody villain." He grunted, dragging the body into the sewer.
This was all planned. Candice Wilmer, Michelle, or whatever alias she was under would find him at the repository near Ellis Island and, due to his anonymous tip, she would try to redeem herself to that fake Company by going to the location they had now abandoned, the medical facility where they had taken her to relieve her psychological disorder before she went into the field.
This had almost become too predictable. Not easy, but humorous. His dry wit attributed itself due to his ease in manipulation and frustration in trying to constantly destroy the Company. And whether that happened first or he freed Diane, the other would soon follow. And Claude Rains would redeem himself, fulfill himself. And he'd be through with this, though the world never would.
NEW YORK, NEW YORK. PRESENT DAY.
Maya arrived in New York. She had set up a beacon towards Sylar. She did this by visiting the one man she was sure Sylar would come towards: Mohinder Suresh. She almost felt sorry that this might wind up in the death of this scientist who 'saved' her. Though really, he was just doctor administrating a cure…why am I trying to justify what I'm doing? I'm killing Sylar. That is a good work. If a vicious killer's been my legacy so far, I might as well be one.
"Greetings, Dr. Suresh." Maya stuck her head in an open door. She found a room disassembled, phone numbers, drawings by Molly, scientific miscellania, and books, it all melded together into a small mountain at the foot of a chair. And there, head down, was Dr. Suresh.
"Maya? Why are you here? This place is dangerous. For you, abandoning the mission, and me, for abandoning the Company altogether. I have a killer on my back and I had to give up my protector to protect…Molly." He broke down, clearly distraught. He was ready, it seemed, to die. Or face dire consequence.
Good. Maya continued to speak. "I'm so sorry." She opened, closing the door and beginning to trash the trash into empty bins, unused by the eccentric man.
"I feel sorry for you. I didn't heal you to get sucked in again." Mohinder looked at her with the look of pity. He was a man fulfilled as long as Molly was safe.
At this she straightened abrupt, locked her eyes in on his. "So now you have control over me, Mohinder? Sylar controlled me once; I won't be controlled again, by any man. My emotions led me to become a hero! I killed, but I killed villains. Illegal mobsters, a cheating wife. Now I will…kill...an evil man." She broke down in tears that went from gray to ominous ebony rather fast.
"You…speak…of control…and this proves you have none." Mohinder battled the deadly drops that rolled down his brown skin, collapsing in his own trash. Destroyed, devastated, he seemed as if death was the only step left in his decay.
"I will not kill you. I'm so sorry." She managed after a long battle. And that it was. She was just too emotional of a woman; many thought her loco before, in jest and in all seriousness, back home.
Mohinder narrowed his eyes in a skeptical glance. "If you dragged me here to bait Sylar, you realize you WILL kill me?" He rose with limpness from the near-death experience.
"No, no sir. He must have my brother's power. But if we both have guns, and my power, it will require great focus for him to not die." Maya stated, ignorant of Sylar's prior great feats and with the confidence of Nike herself.
"Then he will kill me to retaliate. And it's all the same." He sunk down into the chair again. It was all over for him. Indeed. Thought Sylar from the elevator he ascended as he used his hearing to probe for any threats. The scientist and the girl…both interesting catches.
The girl, of course, would provide him with an awesome power that would make any hero about to attack him wary. The scientist made it all come full circle. The father had provided the beginning of his ascent, and the son the beginning of the descent of every other hero in existence.
Sylar opened the door. The two tensed up, drew guns. He chuckled. Such dramatics. Such a showdown. It always came down to it, didn't it? He supposed it was human's need for dramatics, romantics. He could never finish it with a quick ambush anymore. But it did make it more enjoyable.
"Hello, Sylar." She said the word with a grimace. A hint of 'how-could-you-betray-me?' and a grim and all too dark resolve.
"It's Gabriel." He said with a condescending tone and a mock-friendly smile. He even hung up his coat in the process. As if it was no more then a routine visit. He certainly wasn't new to killing and that was certainly his plan here.
"You're no angel!" She shouted angrily.
"The angel of death, maybe." Mohinder's quip of anger accompanied his brushing off of bangs, defiantly. His hand quivered on the trigger, not from indecision but from weakness of body.
Sylar sensed this and wrenched the gun to the floor with telekinesis. Maya retaliated with a mere gaze that soon was permeated by black ooze. Sylar strode forward and laughed. "That's rich, Mohinder. Right, Maya? Like your fabled city of gold…." He smirked at the bad pun even while sinking down to the floor, Mohinder beside him.
Maya looked down at him, cocked the gun and delivered her bit. "As YOUR American cowboys would say: Adios, Amigo." And she fired her bullet.
Suddenly, Sylar's eyes unblackened. So did Mohinder's. Apparently the scientist wasn't wished dead, or Sylar didn't have that large of control yet. Simultaneously, the bullet stopped midair.
"If we're cowboys, then Esto solamente non tu dia, Maya." He laughed viciously. "Did I say that right?" He made it apparent it didn't matter. "Anyway…I think your problem is, you're a bit too…cold-hearted." Inside of Maya, a chilling sensation spread. Not in her spine, but in her heart. No more thudding. She collapsed to the floor, muttering. One word. One name.
"Alejandro."
Sylar disposed of the body with rather chilling precision, and turned to the shocked, and figuratively frozen himself, Mohinder. "Alrighty, Company man. Let's get to work." Mohinder glared but merely nodded.
"Stay here. I'll be right back. There's much to do before I eliminate the cheerleader and the Company from our lives. That's what you want, isn't it? No fetters, no shackles on your studies by a certain Bishop? Eh?" Mohinder nodded uneasily.
"Don't worry. I'm not killing anyone...or any more…at least, not tonight!" He laughed as he strung Mohinder along. He moved over, opened the window, and flew off.
All was quiet in Costa Verde. A certain cheerleader frequently met a certain counselor, a certain ex-manager hated his job, and a certain killer watched over his girlfriend. A normal sunny day in California. And ironically, on the radio attached to a car approaching the Bennet/Butler house blared Dani California.
"Rest in peace." Elle Bishop spoke along with the lyrics, as she turned off the ignition. And turned on hers. An energy ball reamed in her hand. Sandra Bennet had left shopping, and then walk with Mr. Muggles; Claire was at cheerleading, and Lyle at baseball. Only her target was left: Noah.
She caught him at a good time. Watching TV, the news. She couldn't tell, as static blared when she walked in. Noah turned around and nearly choked on his beverage he was drinking. "Be careful out there, Noah. Wouldn't want you dead, like your partner.
"Hello Elle. Why do…what the…" He wielded his glass of water threateningly. The news came as an honest shock to him. He said so, and more. "…and I just assumed Bob took my word."
"You know my dad. He's stubborn." She gave a kindly seeming gesture that didn't fool the wary Noah. It was all justified when her next words exploded like a powder keg. "Like he is about forgiving me!"
She snaked the electricity towards him. Her voice quieted with rage that was determined, focused. "I could care less what you think of me now, what he thinks of me. About the weak Mexican lady who represented my redemption. But I care about killing. And the only way I'll ever do a mission again is to please him. And you and the Haitian, regardless of whether you're working together, cause him particular trouble right now. He'd be happy if you died right now."
Noah grinned at his recent opportunity brought about by her carelessness. The sadistic obsession of the girl led way to a harmful conclusion for her. His smile slipped when he realized how cold he had just become, but regained it when he remembered that morally gray really just meant justifying acts normally criminal. And spilled his glass on her electric weapon.
The energy built up flew Elle towards the front door and eventually, out of it. "Stay away from my daughter, and my life. You know your dad's so cold, he won't care. I told you how you are nothing more then an employee to him. Just like me." Just as the sociopath shell began to crack, and a little girl battled through to the surface, something happened. Maybe it struck a balance in Elle, but that girl never came all the way out.
West was waiting in the bushes. He had spotted Elle when she made sure Claire was cheerleading, and followed the car back here. He had no love for Bennett, but at least he protected Claire. He had more hate, anyways, for the Company, and the girl who harmed his girlfriend. As he gently landed, he muttered. "Electric girl better say some prayers."
In her weakest moment, he fired. Elle was instantly pushed down by Noah, and watched on in amazement as Mr. Bennett turned around and fired at the sky which enveloped the speck that was West like a blanket all too fast. Elle watched on in amazement.
"We both have something to prove. Can you work with a man who didn't protect his partner?"
"If you can work with a sadist."
"I think I can"
In a cemetery in Japan, there lies an unmarked grave. The tombstone is now broken. Rubble lies on the dirt nearby. A bench is in a grove of trees, far off and two figures speak. "Thank you." A raspy voice utters. "I don't know how much longer I could've taken without…well, certain maladies of the mind are even beyond me."
"Well, I never pretended I was in favor of you, but I never despised you as much as the rest. I learned to love you."
"Well, thanks to my plan, we've thwarted time. Take that, carp." Adam Monroe snapped at the air.
"Whom are you talking to?" The ever-grammatic woman pondered and questioned with a gentle, near-seductive whisper.
"Hiro Nakamura." He spat with bitter tongue.
"Nakamura…"
"…Yes. Like our old associate. I hated him because his son is a time traveler. Hiro destroyed the love of my life." He almost broke his smooth façade at the thought of Yaeko. Regardless of his adventures in love, he somehow thought that that one would've made it all better.
"I thought that was me." The woman didn't seem hurt, more like she was reminding him.
"Yes, now it is. But when you didn't wind up dead on that rooftop, but unconscious, we could affect the future in a small enough way Hiro never knew it." Adam smiled with glee at the thought of outwitting the Nakamura clan.
"I laid low for you. I could've been famous. Helped you guys at the Company."
"It was best they thought you dead…Ms. Gramble, or should I say…Mrs. Monroe. Victor y is mine, thanks to you." He nestled his neck in hers, their lips interlocked, and it was perfect picnic for the newlyweds.
Next, on Heroes.
Matt: "Peter- no, no Peter no!"
West: "You have another think coming."
A woman's voice: "It's the only way to make sure we're safe forever."