Unbreakable
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Nessa.
Chapter Ten
It didn't work. The formula. Nothing changed in her heart rate or her pulse. She was only growing colder by the minute. There was nothing left in her. The formula only worked if the patient was alive and with every passing moment she wasn't alive. Not anymore.
"Caitlin, please, you don't get to die. Not like this. Not after I just found you again."
He pressed his hands on her chest, trying to pump her blood through her body. If he could get the formula to circulate, maybe, just maybe it could heal her. Maybe, just maybe, she would live.
He wasn't going to give up. She'd never given up on him. How could he give up on her so soon?
"Caitlin, you have to fight for me. For Nessa. Please, fight. Come back to us."
"Peter!" Nessa's voice called out, appearing in the doorway.
"Nessa, go hide. It's not safe."
"Mummy! Mummy's hurt!" she cried, rushing to them. Her eyes were filled with tears, so many tears, and he could sense the pain coming off her in waves.
"Nessa…"
"Mummy's hurting," she whimpered, grabbing one of Caitlin's hands.
"Honey, it… she's not…"
One of the monitors began to beep. The flatline that had been Caitlin's heart had a quick spike. Then another. And another.
"Nessa, what are you doing?"
"Mummy's hurt. I'm fixing her."
The line grew steadier and steadier. He stopped trying compressions. He stepped back and held Caitlin's other hand. He stood back and watched their daughter; their remarkable daughter. He watched her heal her mother, bring her back from the brink of death or perhaps even death itself, because she loved her.
Empathy was how he used his powers. Empathy helped him connect to others and collect their abilities. It helped him understand how use powers and how to help people.
His daughter had inherited that same ability. Her empathy and compassion made her powerful. It's why she was here when she should be hiding somewhere safe. She'd known her mother was in trouble and that he didn't have the ability to save her.
Peter didn't know how she could possible heal her, but Nessa had. Caitlin's heart was back. She had a pulse. She was alive somehow. Maybe it was the formula. Maybe it was Nessa. Maybe it was some weird combination.
She coughed, her body jolting on the table.
He wrapped an arm around her to help her sit up. Caitlin coughed again as Nessa joyfully cried out, "Mummy! Mummy!"
Her voice was weak, so weak. "Peter?"
"I'm here. We're both here. I've got you."
"Peter…"
He rubbed her back. "I know. I know. It's gonna be fine now. You're safe. You're both safe."
Nessa pulled herself onto the table and crawled into Caitlin's lap. He watched as mother hugged daughter. His two beautiful girls. His family.
"Peter, I want you to meet Nessa… your daughter."
He couldn't help but smile. "Hi… hello…"
"That's why you make Mummy sad?" Nessa asked, tilting her head. She was intelligent, his daughter. Almost too intelligent.
"I guess so," he said, still smiling at her.
"It wasn't his fault, luv." Caitlin kissed the top of their daughter's head. "Don't blame your father. He didn't know about you. He was tryin' to get back to us. He just couldn't."
"I know. Do I call you Peter or da?" Nessa looked at him curiously.
"Whatever you want, Nessa."
She thought for a moment then shouted, "Da!" and threw her arms around his neck happily. He hugged her back, this amazing girl, this daughter he almost didn't know existed.
"Aww, isn't that sweet. Unfortunately, it's time to break up this family reunion," his father called from the doorway.
Nessa tensed in his arms while Caitlin gripped his arm, still sitting up on the table.
"No, don't come any closer," Peter warned, looking directly at his father. Arthur ignored him and advanced into the room, flanked by Sylar and Elle.
"I will say this, your girlfriend has shown a remarkable resilience toward death. Perhaps we should test her further."
Electricity crackled through the air as Elle lifted her hand, sparks dancing in her palm, as she looked at them with a wicked grin. Peter swung Nessa onto his back as she reclasped her hands around his neck and hooked her legs around his chest. He used his right hand to pull Caitlin to her feet.
"There's nowhere to run, Peter," his father said.
He was right. There were no convenient windows to jump out of and fly. Even if they did escape the building, his father would continue to send men after them. His family wasn't safe as long as Pinehearst existed.
They would have to stand and fight.
Caitlin backed up along with Peter. Unlike him, she didn't have any powers. She couldn't shoot lightening out of her hands or throw fire or objects. She was normal, except for this healing thing and she still wasn't sure that counted.
She need a physical object. A gun. She'd feel a lot better with a gun in her hands.
"Caitlin, there's a gun under my shirt," he whispered quietly as if he could read her mind. Hell, he probably could.
She slipped her hand around his back and underneath his loose t-shirt. Sure enough he'd tucked a gun into the back of his jeans. Heavens bless him.
Caitlin pulled the gun free and flipped off the safety. It felt good to be armed again. It wouldn't do much against powers, but she felt better already about the odds.
"Aim for the head," he whispered again.
"Peter, you really don't want your daughter to see this. All you have to do is put the girl down and walk away," the well-dressed man, Peter's father, called.
"No," Peter snapped.
She aimed the gun straight ahead. "No one's taking our daughter. You'll have to kill us both."
"That can be arranged," Sylar, the dark sinister man, called.
She felt a hard push against the gun in her hands, like a shove, trying to knock the gun away. She gripped the gun tighter and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet stopped in mid-air before dropping uselessly to the floor.
"Last chance, son," Arthur said.
"Never," Peter said coldly. "You're not getting her."
"Fine. Kill them. Kill them both," he said.
Caitlin fired off two more rounds as Peter guided them behind an overturned lab table.
"You need to shoot them in the head. It's like a kill switch for abilities," Peter said to her quietly, Nessa still clinging to his neck like a monkey.
"What about you?"
"I'll think of something."
Static filled the air. That sparky bitch was at it again. Sparks shot across the room and a ball of blue fire struck the table, shocking her fingertips that rested against it. Just like the ones that killed Ricky all those years ago.
She'd already hated that blonde bitch. And that was before she dared to touch her daughter.
Good thing Ricky had insisted she learn how to use a gun. No one would hurt her family again. Not as long as she could breathe.
He had to protect his family. He felt his daughter's grip around his neck tighten. She was scared, not that he blamed her. The world she was born in had few people, let alone any really dangerous sorts. His daughter had never been danger like this.
There was no way his father would get to his daughter. Both he and Caitlin would die first. He had powers, but she didn't. He had to protect them both. He'd failed her before. He wouldn't fail her again.
"Nessa, stay low," he whispered, trying to unhook her from his neck. The steel table would help protect her from harm. She whimpered as he detached her, then tucked herself into a ball near him.
Caitlin squeezed off a shot from around the side of the table.
A sizzling pop was her response, a blue electric fireball nearly hitting the gun, which surely would have electrocuted her.
"I'll kill that bitch if you've got him," Caitlin said softly.
"If you think I can't hear you plotting, you're sadly mistaken," Sylar called.
He looked at Caitlin. She was bewildered, but not entirely surprised.
"Listen to your brother, Peter. He made the right choice," his father called from the doorway. "I really do wish you had seen things my way."
"He's not my brother!" His hand curled into a fist, fire raging inside. They were very evenly matched, him and Sylar. Which was good. He could buy time for Nessa and Caitlin. Unless Sylar got his switch, he'd be safe. He'd keep healing.
"Da…" Nessa looked up at him.
"Stay hidden. No matter what," he begged her, looking to Caitlin, who nodded in agreement. She knew what he was planning without reading her mind.
Peter made himself invisible and as he blinked out, he watched his daughter copy his ability, going invisible as well. Smart girl.
He glanced around the table. Sure enough, Sylar had a fireball ready and waiting in his palm. His father was closest to the doors, Elle heading around the side closest to Caitlin. As soon as he began using his powers, Sylar would be able to find him, even with the invisibility.
He moved closer to him. If he could circle back around and put a scalpel through his head, he could neutralize Sylar,
Then his hand brushed a table, knocking over a tray. He tried to reach out with his powers, but it was too late. The fireball struck him in the chest, knocking him right off his feet.
There was another gunshot. Caitlin, trying to distract them.
Sizzle. Crack!
Caitlin ducked again, the table crackling with the expended electricity. She was barely aiming the gun now, just firing blindly in what she hoped was the direction of the threat. She'd heard the noise and known it was Peter.
She glanced to her right. There were more tables over there. All she had to do was knock one over and she'd have another place to hide. She could keep them focused on her instead of Nessa.
She heard a grunt of pain and what sounded like flesh hitting flesh. Peter.
Now was her chance to move.
Caitlin stayed low, basically jumping toward the next closest table and yanking it down with her. Various instruments clattered to the floor along with her, the gun still in her hand, clanging loudly against the table.
She dropped the gun when a current of electricity swept across her skin, zapping her.
Caitlin hit the floor hard, her skin repairing itself, while the gun lay just out of reach.
As soon as she regained feeling in her hands, she grabbed for it, only to have it blasted out of her hands. She tried not to react to the pain, but she couldn't help letting out a yelp.
"Caitlin!" Peter called from across the room. He sounded tired and worried.
"I'm fine!" she called back, her body trembling from the shock. So much for the gun.
She felt around the scattered equipment surrounding her. Most of it was useless junk and papers. Then she closed her hand around a syringe. There were no intact vials to pick from. She would just have to improvise.
Each punch was like a freight train. Occasionally, Sylar mixed it up, lobbing a fireball, but mainly they'd devolved to hand-to-hand combat. Powers were great, but draining, and it had already been a long day for them both. Plus, there was hatred and fury in each blow. The physical release was better than using abilities to pummel their opponent.
At least, that's how Peter felt.
Until after he'd heard Caitlin cry out in pain. Now he just wanted this over.
His next shot, a bolt of electricity, just missed Sylar's face as the other man ducked to the side. They were too evenly matched—always had been.
Sylar had honed his offensive powers. Peter had never bothered. He hadn't needed to use his abilities that way. Not to the extent Sylar did.
That's why Sylar had him pinned to the wall in a chokehold when a strangled cry broke both their concentration.
The zaps still hurt, but she was adjusting to them. Her skin would sizzle and heal, but she still felt the pain. The same pain her brother had once felt.
How long had Ricky suffered before he died? How long had his bitch used her powers to torture him? Why did he have to die that day? Why couldn't she have let him live?
Caitlin threw herself at Elle, knocking her to the floor. They struggled, Elle burning her fingers into Caitlin's forearm as she cried out.
She fought through the pain, thinking of Ricky, thinking of how he'd tried to protect her and Peter—his family—and she jabbed the needle into her throat. With the last of her strength, she depressed the plunger.
Air. It was all she'd had to arm herself with.
It took a moment, a moment that left her writhing in pain, electricity shooting through her body, burning her from the inside out, then it stopped. Elle stopped.
There were no death throes or twitches. She simply just stopped.
Shaky, Caitlin tried to get her feet under her. Her muscles protested, leaving her on her knees, bent over. She was disoriented as she fought to regain control of her limbs.
"Not so fast," a male voice said. Peter's father. The man who organized their abduction, her murder, and tried to steal her daughter.
She felt the pressure at the back of her neck as he yanked her up like a helpless pup.
"Enough with the games, Peter," his dad called out.
Peter glanced up from where he'd fallen. He'd seen both Caitlin and Elle go down hard. He didn't know which one of them had screamed in pain, but he prayed it wasn't Caitlin.
His father had one arm locked around her throat and his other hand was held out threateningly, nearly touching her arm.
"Don't hurt her."
"It's too late for that." Arthur closed his hand on her arm and she screamed in pain. A white light passed from her to his father, nearly causing her to collapse in his grip.
"Caitlin!"
Her blue eyes looked at him, weary, as his father slashed her arm with a piece of broken glass. Blood appeared instantly and this time, it didn't heal.
She was powerless.
It was the world's worst hangover.
Her body screamed at her to stop, but she couldn't. Even as she felt her own blood pouring out of her arm, she couldn't stop fighting. Not even as the glass pierced the side of her throat.
She yelped in pain.
"Mummy!" Nessa cried. She wanted to scream for her to hide, but she couldn't speak. Not with the shard against her neck. Just breathing was pressing it tight enough to cut deeper.
"No!" Peter shouted and she felt the power behind it, felt the shock as he opened his fist and blasted his father across the room. She tumbled and fell as well, the glass nicking her throat.
Caitlin groaned, glass and debris cutting through the material of her clothes as she struggled to get her bearings. It would be too easy just to close her eyes. To give in.
Then she thought of her daughter. And Peter.
And her hand found what she'd been looking for.
He ran toward where she'd fallen until he heard a shriek. Nessa.
Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Sylar and his daughter. And he was cutting into her forehead. He felt the rage boiling inside mixed with fear. Fear for her safety. He'd seen what Sylar could do.
He lunged at the other man, pushing at him with his powers. Sylar stumbled back, losing his grip on Nessa. She dropped with a pained grunt and he went to her. Already, she was healing up, his incredible daughter.
"Da, I'm—look out!" she tried to warn, but it was too late.
Whoosh! A scalpel sank into his stomach, staining his shirt with his own blood. The sharp instrument was buried deep, driven there by Sylar's telekinesis. Before he could remove it, another one sank into his hand.
He stumbled back, his good hand grabbing the side of a table, nearly toppling it. Sylar advanced, throwing a pencil this time that sank into his knee, causing him to buckle.
This was it. This was the end. This was how he was going to die.
Breathing ragged, he held up his hand to blast Sylar.
And a gun exploded.
She fired again, watching the bullet sink into his forehead.
Then she was on her feet and across the lab. Before she could shoot him again, Peter pulled the scalpel from his stomach and stabbed it into the base of Sylar's spine. He dropped like a stone.
Her arm and neck still bleeding, Caitlin sank down to her knees beside Peter, yanking the objects out of his skin. He groaned, his teeth clenched together as his body tried to heal itself.
"Peter…" she said softly, touching his cheek.
"Caitlin, you're bleeding." He touched her arm and she felt the pain again. His father had cut deep. She was bleeding out slowly.
"Mummy…" Nessa said, her warm hand touching her arm. She could feel a strange warmth taking over, sneaking up from where her daughter touched her and racing toward the wounds.
Peter held her, slowing maneuvering behind her, pulling her into his lap. She leaned against him as she watched the bleeding slow and her skin knit.
There was a loud clatter and he had a fireball ready in his palm.
"Peter, it's me! It's me!" Claire called, her hands raised. He closed his hand and the fire disappeared.
Noah Bennet followed in on her heels, a gun in hand. "What's going on?"
"Sylar is down. Keep the scalpel in…" he warned as Nessa let go of her mom's arm. Caitlin's skin looked brand new.
Noah nodded, going to check on him as Claire approached. Nessa eyed her cautiously, shifting closer to him. "It's okay, Nessa. This is Claire. She's a friend," he said softly.
"Hi, Claire."
"Hey," the blonde said gently, smiling at his daughter. "You okay?" she asked him.
He looked at his family. "We're gonna be okay…"
Author's Notes:
Action scenes are a pain to write and action scenes with multiple characters AND powers? It took me forever to write the actual confrontation out. Continue on for the end!