10. Ohioan Standoff, part two
Spiderman didn't carry a cell phone. He had that nifty Spidey-Sense built in, and it told him whenever there was inherent danger or villainy nearby. Otherwise, he got his news by hanging around people who liked to discuss crimes in progress during conversation.
Peter Petrelli did carry a cell phone, and some kind of sense told him it was ringing while he was soaring towards the park at sonic speed. Slowing down, he first wondered why his phone reception was back up. Seeing that it was Claire on the ID, he decided that renewed reception was better than a lack of Spidey-Sense.
He landed on a high school rooftop and answered right before it went to voicemail. "Claire?"
"Peter, where are you?" she asked impatiently. "Why aren't you here?"
"I'm sorry Claire, I really am," he said, deeply sincere, "but I can't be there right now. Are you guys okay? How is everyone?"
"We're fine, but what about you? You said you were going to be here! What is so important that you can't be here?"
Peter shut his eyes, feeling guiltier with each angry question she gave. "Claire, I'm sorry. It's just...The thing is, we think Sylar's in the park down the street. I have to go take care of him. I sent some help to your house, though, don't worry. They'll help you out."
There was a second of silence on the other end. "Sylar is here? In this city?"
"We saw explosions over there…" He would've explained further, but realized that he might be wasting time, as apologetic as he was for ditching Claire. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go. You guys will be fine, trust me!" He had to force out the last sentence, but Claire had heard it, and that was what mattered.
Up ahead in the distance, Peter could see the vague flashes still illuminating the park. Sylar was still at it. But Peter felt ready. After all this time and work, this was what he'd been waiting for. He'd never felt more powerful and confident than he did at that moment. In a way, he felt like Nathan, who never ever failed to appear so strong and sure of himself.
"If it makes up for it, I'll definitely make you proud, Claire," Peter said softly. "You and Nathan."
The two men held their standoff for a long minute, Claude projecting a distrustful stare at Bennet, who had replaced his initial shock with an intent gaze. Meanwhile, something moved downstairs. Bennet caught it in his peripheral vision and ducked behind the wall immediately, shooting at the now conscious Miller and Nelson. Claude had instinctively dropped to the ground as well, dodging taser prods by a mere split second.
He was absolutely speechless for a few moments as he lay on his stomach, watching Noah Bennet firing at the Company agents below, who now returned with silenced shots of their own. "Hey!" Claude whispered hoarsely, recomposing himself, "Why the hell are you firing at your own men?!"
"I don't work for them anymore," Bennet answered, his shots emptying into a bookshelf next to the door. "They're after Claire!"
So the Company had come for Claire at last? But no, wait…
"What? How can they be after Claire, they're after Peter's niece!"
"Claire is Peter's niece!"
Claude's eyes widened; he was now completely ignorant of the gunfire flying all around him. "That conniving little son of a bitch…"
The gunfire ceased after a while, and Bennet eyed the shadows below warily. "You're here with Peter, right?" He asked. "Where is he?"
"I don't know, he and Hiro were supposed to have entered the house already."
"Who?"
Impatience added to Claude's already rising anger. It was like they were watching a confusing movie and had to trade half-assed explanations with each other. "Look, could we drop the bloody Abbott and Costello routine? As idiotic as it is, we're obviously on the same side at the moment, so let's swap reconnaissance." Bennet, seeing the reason Claude presented, nodded as he checked and reloaded his gun. "One of those two down there has built-in night vision, that's the deal with the blackout. Also, we can't call Peter to find out what's going on because someone's jammed the phone reception. I'm thinking it's the team in the back."
"Well, I counted five in total," said Bennet, peering behind the wall once again. A shot zipped by his ear, hitting a picture frame, and he returned fire. He hid for cover. "Only one I know personally is the illusionist, Candice."
"An illusionist?"
"Yeah. I'm guessing she might be the cause for Peter's delay. We'll need to find him and get downstairs, my family's hiding in the basement."
"For that we'll need Hiro, then. You got another gun?" Bennet tossed him his spare, along with a silencer. Claude examined it for a second, cocking it and picking up his blade.
"Nice machete," Bennet commented. "Chinatown?"
Claude nodded, though he was greatly annoyed with the near-banter his ex-partner was attempting to initiate. "Yeah, Kai Li's. By the way," he pointed the blade at him again, although Bennet didn't make a move as he eyed Claude cautiously. "This is a temporary truce," he explained, curt but vicious. "You may have finally fucked up with the Company and gotten Sandra and the kids involved, but unlike Peter I have no reason to trust you. Do you understand?"
Bennet, too used to threats, naturally shifted into impudent mode before he could have a second thought. "Guess you're not getting your apology," he said coldly. Unlike with Parkman or Suresh, though, he didn't smirk.
"Didn't want it," Claude shot back, "man like you's not worthy of forgiveness. However," he sheathed the machete at last, "I think we can leave our little row for later. Right now you can lead the way downstairs and I'll give you some cover fire."
Bennet knew that sending him first was Claude's resentful way of taking charge, but at the very least, the man was on his side for the time being. He nodded, and gun at the ready, he dashed down the stairway, as Claude fired into the dark below.
Once he'd made it to floor level, he turned around, ready to cover for Claude, but someone bumped into him.
"Ow! Oh, Dad?"
Bennet grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and hurried her over to a linen closet, keeping the door ajar as a shield. Checking that the Company agents were distracted, he turned back to her. "Claire, why aren't you in the basement?" he asked, as if getting ready to ground her.
"Peter said that Sylar is here!" she said urgently.
His brow furrowed. "Sylar?"
"Yes! He called and said he's in the park up the street, he was going to go fight him. But I couldn't let him do this alone, Dad, I mean, what if he doesn't…" she hesitated to go on. "What if he doesn't survive this time?"
"He will survive," said Bennet with certainty, realizing what was going on. "But something else may happen. Peter's walking into a trap, we'll need to-"
A grunt and a thumping sound interrupted Bennet, from close range, and when he and Claire turned around they found Nelson crumpled on the ground with a fresh bullet hole in his back. Bennet would've covered his daughter's eyes, but then Claude stormed up to them, looking like he was readying a whole arsenal of censor-worthy obscenities.
"Hey!" he yelled, stepping over the body. Miller had apparently escaped. "When I said I'd give you cover fire, you were supposed to return the damn favor, you inconsiderate mother-"
"—Uncle Claude?" said Claire, squinting and instantly recognizing what she saw through the beard and bum's clothing.
Claude blinked. He hadn't noticed her there at first, and good God, she was all grown up now. "…Claire! Didn't see you there, sweetheart! My my, you're as beautiful as ever, aren't you?"
"Um, what are you doing here?" she asked, not noticing the way her father watched Claude uncertainly.
"I was…in the neighborhood?" he explained—well, more like suggested.
"We've got a problem," Bennet cut in, "Peter may have run into the illusionist I told you about. She's posing as a serial killer. Claire, you said you called Peter's phone?"
"I did, but he's not picking up anymore," she said.
"Then we're going to have to get to him before the Company does." He looked at Claude. "Didn't you say you brought a friend? Hiro? What does he do?"
"He's a time travelin' teleporter!" Claude said proudly.
Bennet's brow arched. "Really?" he asked with some interest.
Claude nodded, inappropriately enthused. "God, he's bloomin' brilliant, you'd never believe it-"
"—Could we maybe get a plan rolling sometime before Peter gets into trouble?" asked Claire, growing frustrated.
"Yes," said Bennet shortly. "Claude, you and Hiro get my family out of here, I'll drive over to the park and warn Peter-"
"—I'm coming too," Claire asserted, and before her father could protest, said, "we don't have time to argue about this, Dad, he's my uncle!" Turning around, she hurried off to the garage without another word.
"Claire!" yelled Bennet. "Claire! Dammit…Claude, get Hiro to teleport to the park as soon as everyone's safe!" And he took off after her down the hallway.
Claude was left alone, very annoyed. It was enough that he had been tricked into siding with his former best friend again, but the fact that he wasn't even allowed to properly murder Peter for it was just downright-
There was a 'Whump!' sound, and he turned around to see that the kitchen was now filled with an odd fog of white powder. Upon closer inspection, the source of the fog turned out to be a huge bag of flour on the counter, newly obliterated by the bullet embedded in the wall.
"The bloody hell was that?" he said aloud.
Neither Hiro nor Liam could keep up the frenzied pace or long. Sooner or later one had to give out. Liam made the mistake of channeling a lot of energy into a downward swing, allowing Hiro to roll over as the rake came down upon him and embedded itself in the ground. Lunging over the ever-present puddle, Hiro snatched his sword, jumped up, and shut his eyes.
When he reopened them, he almost lost his hold on time.
Liam's rake was frozen only a few inches away from his right cheek. Mack, now solid, had taken out a gun from somewhere and fired it, the bullet staring him right between the eyes. Hiro stepped out of his lethal spot, getting a better view of the scene.
Inspired, Hiro got an idea, and grinned mischievously. A minute later (to him at least) he was inside the house, and blinked once again.
He heard Claude curse from behind, but Hiro didn't acknowledge his presence, being too thrilled by the scene outside to care:
"Liam, get off of me!" Mack yelled angrily, prying herself out of their make-out position. "Keep it in your pants when you're on the job, jackass!"
"I-I…I didn't do that!" Liam looked around in confusion. "Where's my gun? And the time traveler?"
Hiro tapped on the window pane, displaying the gun and rake for them to see. "Hallo!" he greeted.
"Son of a bitch!" Liam yelled. He and Mack started for the door, but both didn't even advance an inch before Liam stumbled clumsily on top of Mack, who was on her way down as well. They looked down to find Liam's shoelaces tied around Mack's high-heel.
"I've have to admit, you've got style," said Claude, coming up from behind and slapping Hiro on the back. "Classic physical comedy, but I'll admit it's clever. Well done."
"Thanks," Hiro grinned. "But where is the family? I must transport them to safety before I go fight Sylar-"
"—Yeah, about that. Apparently the part of Sylar is being played by an illusionist tonight, so there's no need to panic. False alarm, you could say." Claude clapped his hands. "To the basement, shall we? We'll need to make two trips tonight, so let's start on the first."
Sandra could hardly believe her eyes when a bearded and much disheveled Claude Rains opened the basement door after all the ruckus she heard upstairs. "Claude, it's you!" she exclaimed, hugging him once he confirmed his identity. "My god, it's been so long, where-"
"—No time for that just yet, Sandra," he smiled. "And Lyle! You must've grown a foot and a half since I saw you last, boy."
"Uncle Claude, are you here to help us?" Lyle asked.
"He's probably more equipped to do that," he said, motioning towards Hiro. "Hiro is our ride out of here. Where to then, eh?"
Hiro shrugged. "I'm not sure. I have been gone for several months."
"Well, let's say New York. You ever been to the Deveaux Building?"
Unfortunately, the name drew a blank, and he shook his head. "No, I haven't. Oh!" Hiro's eyes shined happily. "But I know another place! I think it's empty now, I'll take you there!"
Peter landed on the sidewalk just on the edge of the park. He looked around; the place looked just like he'd left it only twenty minutes ago, and the nuclear flashes had ceased right before he landed. Had Sylar seen him fly in? There was no way…the guy wasn't even expecting him. Peter approached with caution, staying invisible as he walked onto the grass.
It was a huge park, and full of nighttime creatures that pecked around in piles of litter and toppled garbage cans. There were a few bums hanging around the public restrooms, seemingly hung over. Sylar probably hadn't been in this area—these people probably would've lost their heads by now. He was surprised they hadn't run off at the sight of the mushroom clouds. These drunks' poor judgment aside, it was going to be important to restrict Sylar to whatever side of the park he was currently terrorizing.
"GAAARRGGGH!!"
At the sound of the scream, he dropped his invisibility and speedily bolted into the air. Adrenaline rushing through him, he jetted past the basketball courts, over the playground, and landed at last at a picnic area. Under a gazebo stood Sylar, hunched over as the moonlight from behind him cast a long shadow over the white concrete. Peter steeled himself inside, confident, fearless, able to feel his power flowing easily through his veins. At that moment, he truly felt invincible.
Noticing Peter, Sylar walked over slowly but just as assertively, dragging his latest victim along at his side.
Peter saw the victim's face appear under the park lights, and in an instant, he was a mere mortal once more.
"Nathan…?" he uttered. Then, once the impact fully set in, it suddenly all came out in one anguished scream. "Nathan!!"
With a smirk, Sylar dropped Nathan's lifeless body to the grass, and levitated himself a few inches off the ground. "Don't worry, Peter," he sneered. "I'll put this to better use than Nathan ever did. Watch." And in the next second he had zoomed off into the clouds, with no further provocation.
This was because he had done enough. Staggering over quickly, Peter collapsed to his knees by his brother's body. He could barely inhale any air as the tears flooded to the surface. "Nathan," he choked, picking his brother up from the ground. "No, Nathan, no…Oh God, not you…"
It couldn't have been his big brother; limp and bloody and brainless and wearing a stare completely devoid of life. But it really was. Right here, this inanimate weight lying in his arms. This corpse was Nathan Petrelli, the Congressman, the politician, the famous attorney, the big man on campus, the guy everyone really talked about whenever they called Peter "Nathan's kid brother."
After all these months of searching, he'd found him too late. And he wasn't dead because Nathan had been a hero in New York. It was because of that goddamn son of a fucking bitch…
"I'm sorry, Nathan…" he told him. "I…I came too late. You were alive, all this time…you were still here on Earth, and if-if…if I'd only looked harder, dammit…"
"Absolutely pathetic," came Sylar's voice once again.
Peter looked up, and he was standing under the gazebo, with that fucking grin.
"Are you still here weeping, Peter?" New found rage storming inside, Peter raised a firm hand, ready to murder. But before he used any power, Sylar brought up his hand as well, and he was holding something.
"Unlike you, I've been productive," Sylar said smugly, as he held up yet another de-brained body to the moonlight.
Peter's wide-eyed horror pleased him, and his grin widened. "Thanks for staying around here while I got around to that," he continued. "I thought you might be a…hindrance once I saw you arrive. I guess I had no reason to worry, did I?"
Peter couldn't breathe again, all his focus now on the dead man Sylar held up like a demented puppeteer. At once a puppet, but at the same time, a dead human being. Just another kill to Sylar now.
But it was a kill Peter could've prevented…
No...
One he should have prevented.
He heard something, and it wasn't Sylar. It was a woman.
So pathetic…has no control…This man can't beat Sylar, no way…We really will have to catch him ourselves…
"You're…" Peter stuttered, "you're not…"
Sylar's grin went away. "Not who?"
"Peter!" Claire yelled from across the playground, running towards him. "Peter, that's not Nathan, or Sylar!"
"Aww, no one likes a tattle-tale," said Sylar, but in the distinctly different woman's voice. Suddenly everything around him faded and seemed to disintegrate. The atmosphere started to shake all around them. Nathan's body disappeared from Peter's arms. In a few seconds Sylar was no longer there, a smirking girl in a short skirt now in his place. "Guess we'll have to play later, huh Pete?"
"Peter, freeze her!" yelled Bennet, from behind Claire. "Don't let her leave!"
But Peter didn't move a muscle. He watched Candice mount the motorcycle that had appeared nearby, and she sped over the grass and out into the dark street. She was long gone once Claire and her father caught up with him.
He was absolutely still, sitting in the grass and staring blankly after Candice as Claire ran up to him. "Peter, are you okay?" she asked, embracing him immediately.
"Nathan." He uttered softly. "Sylar killed Nathan."
"He didn't really die," said Claire, hugging him tighter, trying to reassure him. "It was an illusion…he didn't really die. Nathan didn't die. It's okay, Peter, it's okay."
"No, it's not," he said, looking over at Claire. "Because she was right. I can't beat Sylar."
So I'm speculating heavily on Candice's abilities here, since we really haven't seen her transform into a guy (or two) or illusion some very bright explosions in a park. Personally, I think she could develop her powers way past giving people pimples and hiding dead bodies.