Chapter Seven



During their brief phone call Peter and Nathan had decided on meeting in Vegas.

"Vegas? Why Vegas?" Nathan could still hear Bennet's complains ringing in his ears. "Why not?" he'd shrugged but Bennet had grumbled on: "Why not someplace even more public, like, oh, I don't know… Disneyland?"

Nathan had sent him an overly patient glare then. "Because our parents don't own a free apartment that I happen to have spare keys to in Disneyland but in Vegas!"

And that had been the end of that. Bennet had shut up, thankfully, for the rest of the flight and had contented himself with making his tall form even more heavy than before. And he'd made a sport out of poking his long limbs into parts of Nathan's anatomy that didn't like to be poked at all.

Or, well… one particular part of him had, much to Nathan's shock, rather liked the steady warm pressure and had come to perk up in interest.

So now he'd been rock-hard for the last ten minutes and Nathan had no clue if Bennet simply hadn't noticed yet (which was kind of hard to believe with Bennet's foot pressed in between Nathan's thighs just so) or if he'd simply decided on not commenting for now. Nathan was sure it was the latter and he already feared the second the bastard would chose to mock him about it (with that damn smirk firmly in place, Nathan could clearly imagine it).

But for now Bennet had nothing to say and so Nathan steered their bodies through the silent night. Finally, when they'd reached their destination, he slowed down in speed to land at the side of the empty road, right behind the garishly sparkling "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign.

"God, remind me to never take anyone on piggy-back ever again, alright?" Nathan grunted and tried to shake some feeling back into his tight muscles. Every joint in his body seemed to be stiff and bruised.

"Why? I rather got the impression that parts of you enjoyed it!"

And there was the damn smirk again. Nathan sighed and threw Bennet a dark look. Then he simply started walking along the side of the road. Bennet with his long legs was by his side only seconds later. Nathan watched the man's surprisingly content face for a while before he chose to finally comment on it.

"You know what? You seem awfully frisky for a man who just lost his home, his job… his entire life."

Bennet's face darkened visibly but he kept silent. Nathan held up a hand and stopped walking when a stray thought suddenly occurred to him. "Do you at least have your wallet?"

"Why?" Bennet asked. "You expect me to pay rent for your parents' apartment? Sorry, Petrelli, I'm fresh out!"

"You got nothing? No ID, no cash at all?" Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"I have, let's see…" Bennet pulled a black leather wallet out of his back pocket and quickly sifted through it. "I have my driver's license and roughly about a hundred and seventy-five dollars in cash. Oh, and a season ticket for the Arizona Bears. Does that help you somehow?"

"Football?" Nathan lifted an eyebrow and took the wallet from Bennet's hands. He started walking again and Bennet easily fell in next to him. "I figured you'd be more of a, I don't know… boxing-type maybe. Definitely not football."

Bennet eyed him closely. "You don't know a thing about me, Petrelli." He tried to get his wallet back but Nathan quickly pulled it out of reach. He sifted through it some more.

"I'm starting to get that," he stated and stared curiously at a picture he'd just found inside the wallet. A man somewhere around his late thirties grinned back at him from it, with dark blond hair and a wicked gleam in his eyes. He was dressed casually in sweater and jeans and the corners of his mouth were drawn into the dirtiest smirk Nathan had ever seen.

"Who's this, Bennet? Your boyfriend?" he joked.

"That's Claude," Bennet made another attempt to get his wallet back but Petrelli was quicker and hid it behind his back.

"The invisible man?" Nathan asked further. "Not so much invisible at all, is he?"

"Yeah, right! For it would make so much sense for him to be invisible in a picture," Bennet countered.

"Is that Claire by his side?" Nathan had taken another look at the photo and had just noticed a small hand clasping the man's larger one. The rest of the child hadn't made it onto the picture.

"Yes, it was taken on Claire's seventh birthday. He brought her blue balloons," Bennet looked much sadder suddenly. "That was the last time we met in person."

Nathan didn't know why but he suddenly felt the strong urge to somehow lift Bennet's subdued spirits. He went for the first thing that came to his mind. "Two years? Damn, that's a pretty long-distance-relationship you got going there, Bennet. I really hope the sex is good enough to make up for the lost time."

"We're not… that's…" Bennet sputtered but then got control over his voice again. He eyed Nathan levelly. "I don't think that's any of your business but Claude and I are just friends!"

"Come on," Nathan smirked and leered at Bennet. Bennet simply glared down at him and… was he blushing? Yes, that was definitely a blush covering Bennet's cheeks there!

"I knew it!" Nathan shouted triumphantly.

"The hell you know, Petrelli! It was a one-time-thing only and I was drunk off my ass! Claude may be gay but I'm not!"

"Sure," Nathan leered on. "Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Bennet, but I know better!" The last part came out nearly sing-songed and Nathan's eyes gleamed mockingly. Now he had the bastard at last.

"Takes one to know one, what Petrelli?" Bennet stated and was past Nathan in two strides.

"Now, that's rich, Bennet!" Nathan suited up to him quickly. "I was on my way to propose to Heidi, remember?"

Bennet stopped in his tracks and threw a dangerous look at Nathan. "Yeah, by the way, did you plan on eventually letting her join you and Peter or did you just want to keep on screwing your own brother behind your wife's back?"

Nathan stumbled back as if he'd been slapped. All the color drained from his face and his hazel eyes narrowed to golden slits. With something bordering on a hiss he jumped up to Bennet and grabbed the man by his shirt. "If you ever hint at something like that again, Bennet, I swear I'm gonna kill you for real this time! I am not screwing my brother! I've never touched him, not like that!"

Bennet stared at the angry face for a while. He was completely sure that he'd been right in his assumption. He'd seen it in Petrelli's eyes. In both Petrelli's eyes, the younger brother had it just as bad as this one. Eventually he replied calmly: "But you want to, you've thought…"

"No," Nathan spat and released his hold on Bennet's front. "No, you're wrong, Bennet. I would never think about something like that. That's… sick!"

"Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Petrelli!" Bennet threw Nathan's words right back at him and then simply marched further along the road.

Nathan followed at a slower pace and the silence between them stretched uncomfortably.

By the time they passed the first of many garishly gleaming Casinos the hostility had grown to a nearly tangible knot hanging in the air between them. And when Nathan walked up to a modern, twenty-stored apartment house built completely out of glass and chrome, and Bennet followed him into the elevator and the doors dinged shut behind them, it seemed that the little air there was in the steel cage was quickly sucked up by the hostile atmosphere.

Bennet rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. Nathan coughed and opened the first few buttons of his shirt. He loosened his tie and wondered how such a small accessory, that usually felt nearly natural to him these days, could suffocate him so much. He also wondered briefly how it had managed to survive the last twenty-four hours of constant fight or flight unharmed and firmly in place.

The elevator announced the fifth floor (only fifteen more to go, Nathan thought darkly) when Bennet suddenly turned to him.

"Okay, look, Petrelli," he sighed and rubbed his tired face before he stared down at Nathan again, eyes shadowed but not as hostile as before. "Hate me all you want, I don't care, but… if you start dragging Claire into this resentment between us, which is by the way only natural given our situation, then I swear I'm gonna get real angry."

"You're the one who accused me of sleeping with my brother, Bennet!" Nathan's voice flamed up and soon enough he had a glaring Bennet right in front of his face (and a strong fist clenched in his loosened shirt).

"You see, that's what I meant. You don't think before you open your mouth." Bennet shook him slightly. "Don't you dare say things like that in front of my daughter, I don't want her to hear anything like that, okay?"

"Your daughter?"

Bennet didn't raise to the bait but kept fixing him with gleaming eyes. Eventually Nathan threw a quick look at the steel grip on his shirt before he faced Bennet once again. "Get your hands off me, Bennet."

The taller man loomed over him until the elevator dinged to announce their arrival on the twentieth floor. When the door slid open Bennet finally released his hold on Nathan's clothes and took a step back. "Remember to hold your split tongue in check around Claire and everything's fine!"

Without another look at Bennet Nathan left the elevator's confining space and turned right. When he'd reached the last door on the left and pulled his keys out of a pocket Bennet had suited up to him. Nathan placed a hand onto the handle and, just before he opened the door, sent Bennet a shaded glare.

"You're one to talk, Bennet. I'm sure Claire has heard nothing but the truth out of your mouth for the last seven years."

"I know that I had to lie to her more than I'd ever wished to but, it was necessary to shield her from certain things. I had to protect her, Petrelli, and I did a damn good job of it until…"

Bennet broke off and Nathan sent him another dark look before he opened the door and entered his parents' apartment. Bennet followed warily and, after Nathan had turned on the lights, took a long look around.

The rather gloomy hall with paneled wood on both sides opened up into a lighter, creamy-colored sitting room with a top-to-bottom, side-to-side window on the right. It had to be special-tempered glass because the neon lights from outside didn't make it into the room at all.

Bennet stepped inside and instantly eyed the plush leather couch with longing. He was starting to feel the stress of the past hours in every bone and muscle, let alone in his throbbing head, and he'd love nothing more than to sink down onto the couch and close his tired eyes.

Not that calm rest was an option with Petrelli anywhere near, Noah thought gloomily. Than man just kind of rubbed him the wrong way, and he couldn't for the life of it figure out why. Sure, the constant threat of the fact that this was his Claire-Bear's father who could try to take her away from him was looming permanently on the edge of his mind and it surely clouded his judgment but…

There was something else, something darker, more primal… a feeling that had settled into his guts the very minute they'd come in close contact. The crazy flight, or make that flights, the threatening each other at gun-point in permanent turns, the fist-fights… and then the completely surreal baiting of each other, the sniping and the more harmless banter, almost friendly…

What was it about Nathan Petrelli that had made him act so out of character today that he barely recognized himself?

Bennet threw a long assessing look at Petrelli (who'd thrown himself onto the couch much to Bennet's annoyance) as if he expected the answer to his jumbled thoughts to pop up on the man's forehead like one of the neon signs this city was famous for.

Petrelli had his one arm thrown over his face and his legs stretched out on the couch. "Quit staring and sit down before you keel over, Bennet!" His voice came out muffled but calm, almost sociable. Bennet shook his head in defeat. One minute they were at each other's throats and the next they behaved like… friends?

"Crazy!" Bennet sighed more to himself and then looked around again.

"What's that?" Petrelli asked from behind his arm.

"Bathroom?" Bennet asked instead of an answer. When Petrelli pointed back into the hall without opening his eyes Bennet turned around on his heels and went to look for himself.

He found the blue and white tiled restroom easily enough (there were only two doors apart from the front door and one of them led into a posh bedroom) and there he stared for a long time at the bruised and beaten face in the mirror. Who was that man staring back at him?

Bennet splashed cold water onto his face while he tried to figure out if the man he'd known himself to be could be found anywhere under the grime and crusted blood. He wasn't so sure.

When he dried his face he briefly contemplated taking a shower but then… No, not until he'd seen for himself that his Claire-Bear was safe and sound and in his arms again where she belonged.

As if on cue Bennet suddenly heard a sharp knock on the apartment door and he was there in a matter of seconds, yanking the door open and then sliding to his knees in relief when he heard the heavenly sound of his daughter's voice.

"Daddy!" Claire cried and threw her arms around him.

God, Bennet hadn't known how much he'd longed for this moment above anything else. Shower, clean clothes, even sleep was forgotten the second his arms closed around his daughter's trembling body.

"Claire!" Noah sobbed and buried his face in the blond locks. He squeezed her hard, inhaled her scent and sobbed all his relief into her hair. "Oh Claire, thank God you're alright. My Claire-Bear!"

"Oh Daddy, I missed you so!"

"Are you alright?" Noah held her at arm's lengths and quickly looked her up and down. "Claire?"

"I'm fine, Daddy! I'm fine," Claire's voice sounded exhausted but otherwise fine. She threw herself into his arms again.

Noah had no idea how long he'd sat there crouched in the doorframe, his little girl cradled securely in his arms, but eventually he looked up and noticed Peter Petrelli standing behind them, a worn out expression on his face.

"Thank you, Peter," Noah looked at the younger man with serious gratitude. "For bringing her back safe."

Peter managed a weak smile. "You're welcome."

"Peter? Pete!" Nathan had woken up from his impromptu nap on the couch and now stood in the doorframe of the sitting room. He took two more steps and then Peter was there, rushing past Bennet and Claire into his outstretched arms as if he was being pulled forward by an invisible rubber band.

"Nathan!" he breathed out and buried his face in the crook of his brother's neck. "God, Nathan!"

"I'm here, Pete," Nathan had his fists crunched in the jumper on Peter's back and the fabric was nearly torn apart by his strong grip. He let his eyes close for a moment to simply bathe in his little brother's presence before he took a step back to hold Peter at arms lengths.

Noah watched the two brothers from his position on the floor. The similarity of the Petrelli-reunion to what his greeting of Claire must have looked like earlier was not lost on him at all.

And that's the exact moment Noah realized it.

When he saw the relief and… love in Petrelli's eyes, the look softening the harsh features in exactly the same way Noah was sure his emotions had made his own face ease when he'd held Claire… that's when it all fell into place.

Their hostile dealings with each other… their entirely crazy actions the whole time… he realized at once what it was that had made them act this way.

Here they were, two very similarly headstrong men, trying to protect the ones they loved most in this world while they felt their lives crumble to pieces around them. They were feeling threatened by each other. And in their panic they reacted the only way they knew how to deal with the fucked-up situation.

Like a hurt and cornered animal, lashing out and snarling and biting at everything in its path.

It was every creature's natural instinct, though, in their case now, completely irrational and unnecessary.

Because Noah realized there and then that if he and Petrelli would just stop their biting for a second and take a close look at each other, they'd see themselves in the other like reflections in a mirror. Cause that's what they were, two sides of a medal.

And Noah knew that if he could just make Nathan realize it somehow… convince him that they were very much alike…

He was sure that once they'd both realized that they would get along much better. Perhaps they would even have a chance to become… allies? Friends? Whatever.

At least something other than the enemies they'd behaved as the entire time.


Holding cell at Primatech-Paper, Odessa

Many hours had passed since Angela Petrelli had stood up from the cot and had left the cell without another word. Hours with nothing to do for Claude but to think about Noah and Claire.

Where were they now? Had they really managed to get away? And had it really been the Petrelli brothers that had somehow gotten them out?

Claude's thoughts had revolved around nothing else. He hadn't touched the food that had been shoved through the cat-flap-like hole in the wall. He hadn't spared a single thought on it, nor had he slept a second (although he had to have been awake for more than twenty-four hours straight). And Claude had only now started to think about the rather dire situation he found himself in right now.

Apparently his double-life had finally come to an end. He'd blown the cover himself by trying to warn Noah of this attack. And if that hadn't proven his disloyalty to the company yet… the way he'd reacted to Noah's and Claire's flight certainly had.

So, he was found out. After seven years of spying and secretly working against the company's policy in rather plain sight… he was done now.

Oh well, or so it bloody looked, alright.

But Claude couldn't have cared any less about what happened to him now. Lifelong imprisonment… okay, not such a good perspective but… better than the short-lived alternative, right?

Oh bollocks, let the company come and take him out… Claude didn't care. Ever since the day he'd helped killing Thompson he'd thought his life would be over any day, and seven long years later here he was still, alive and kicking… he'd outlived his estimated expiring date by far.

Rather than the freshly caught mackerel he'd always taken himself for (figuratively speaking, of course – eat fresh from the fishing rod or else it might turn bad the next day), he'd turned out to be like something that came in a bloody tin can, like tuna for example (battered around the edges but still eatable after years). So… what did it matter if his expiring date had finally caught up with him now?

Nothing.

As long as Claude knew that Noah and Claire were safe…

Nothing mattered besides that.

So when a smug company agent, about half Claude's age and just barely allowed to cross the street without mommy or daddy holding his hand, entered Claude's cell eventually, he'd made peace with his fate. He couldn't even be bothered to listen to the threats the kid let loose.

The only time Claude's ears did perk up in interest was when the agent announced that Mrs. Petrelli wanted to speak to him for one last time (or so the bloody toddler agent smirked).

What could Angela Petrelli want from him again? There was nothing else they could possibly have a shared interest in, was there?

Well, perhaps she expected him to share information on Noah's next move, now that he had to be on the run again. But… Claude wouldn't for the life of it tell her anything. Never mind that there wasn't anything he really could tell.

He and Noah hadn't yet come around to making plans for their next move if (when) the worst case were ever to happen. Like now. He'd no idea where Noah would be headed next. And Claude had every intention of telling Mrs. Petrelli just that, no matter what threats the woman would come up with.

He was prepared for the worst.

But what he absolutely wasn't prepared for was Angela Petrelli walking purposefully up to him now and pointing at his chained hands. She unlocked the handcuffs in a sure but quick motion and then silently motioned for him to get up from the cot.

When Claude didn't move she sighed and threw a pointed look at her golden wrist-watch.

"Claude, we have a flight to catch."

Claude stared at Angela Petrelli for a second before his lips quirked upwards mockingly. "So is this the mini-break that I always wanted to take? No? A condemned double-agent's last wish before he's put down? What?"

"Claude," Angela stated calmly, "do you want to continue with this or do you want to walk out of here a free man?"

"What?" Claude kept staring at Angela's face. Her dead serious face, he could tell. "You're gonna spring me out now? Tsk, I don't think that's anywhere in the company's protocol for agents-turned-traitors."

"As you well know, company protocol doesn't concern me. And right now…" Angela eyed him levelly. "Let's just say, Claude, that right now I prefer to follow my own protocol above anything else. So, what do you say to a trip to Las Vegas to meet my sons and… whoever might happen to be in their company?"

Claude stared back at her silently. Did she really mean what he thought she meant? He couldn't believe it. But then… what other alternative did he have? Staying here playing sitting duck until the company decided to take him out? Not bloody likely!

So after a while he stood up from the cot, took a slightly over-the-top bow and smirked: "Well, then I figure it's my bloody cue to say: Lead the way, Mrs. Petrelli."

"Good answer, Claude," Angela smiled coldly and walked out of the cell. In the door frame the woman turned around and fixed him with another glare. It took Claude a while to realize what she wanted but then he quickly pulled his trick and the satisfied nod Angela gave showed him that he'd become invisible to her eyes.

She turned on the spot and strode along the empty corridors then. Claude followed warily, anticipating something bad to happen every second despite his trick. But it seemed that the company had other problems for now because the odd pair made it out of the building and into the small space of a waiting helicopter without incident.

Claude remained invisible and Angela didn't acknowledge his presence anyhow when she ordered the pilot to start the engines and steer the vehicle into the air. During the flight Claude pinched his own arm a few times to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming. But only when the helicopter had landed on a huge building surrounded by thousands of blinking Casino lights did he dare to start believing.

Angela Petrelli had brought him to Vegas. Could this really be happening?


TBC

It may take me a few days more to update this because I'm not yet happy with the next chapter. I'll try rewriting it and then you're gonna get it as soon as it's finished. Review this first, please.