Set after 2.11 Powerless. A hypothetical Season 3. AU.
The first half of the double length action chapter. Nathan, Niki, Peter, Hiro, Adam, etc. Sorry for the long wait, lots of time and effort went into making this.
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Rating: T
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It took a life spent with no cellmate
To find the long way back
Lyrics by Interpol
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Chapter 10: The Trigger – Part One
It's long into the afternoon when they arrive and the sun has lost most of its earlier fervor. Mellow and warm, it peeks sadly behind the low-rise buildings and traces their outlines on the dusty asphalt. It didn't take them long to get what they need. Money can buy anything regardless of the state. Niki tucks the handgun between the belt, adjusts her jacket, pretends it's nothing. But the weight is there. It hinders her movement and she can feel it digging into her hip with each turn. Nathan wears his deep in the pocket of his coat – it's bulky and unstable like this, but it doesn't obstruct him.
There's a strange sense of power that comes with owning a weapon, stimulating and repulsive at the same time. Like having control over life and death. Their guns look the same - black and metallic, with a wooden grip. Bullets glint golden and roll between his fingers as he fills the magazine. One, two…
Just a couple of millions. But that bid is off, the night long gone. He's borne the scars and earned his pardon. And he should be able to forget.
Niki remains quiet and their plan surely has its flaws. Despite her casual manners with the guns, her eyes betray the fact that it was Jessica who did all the killing. Still, it doesn't need to come to that. They can be quick and deft and soundless. Invisible would be even better.
The Primatech building looms reddish in the setting sun. Casting away their doubts, they pass the light and shades, closing the few hundred yards that separate them from the answers. This place, the beginning of everything, will be revealing its last important secret.
Peter squints at the brooding sky, suspecting a shower, if not a downpour any time soon. The air is ripe, sticky with fumes and a mixture of smells, ready to be cleansed. But he won't be here to witness it.
Hiro shows up at 9 pm sharp.
With his cheerful shirts and geeky cardigans and the Kenzei sword, he looks the same as always. But time never had an effect on him to begin with. Peter catches the sight of them and jumps down from the railing, instantly visible again. Meeting them half way, he shakes their hand and glances around. Tense and morose in the perpetual dark coat, he is bound to clash or balance the general mood.
"Did it work?" Hiro asks. Peter nods. At least it will, soon.
He even bought a map along the way, figuring that some practice would do him good. The ability is still new to him and locating Adam may have been a lucky guess under the instruction of Molly. In the end, it doesn't matter how he did it. There'll be plenty of time to practice, after they've got this little problem it out of their way.
"Yeah, we can go now."
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There are endless possibilities in their cooperation, Peter realizes. He points and Hiro shoots, figuratively speaking. And he never did like working on his own. Nathan says he's too dependent. That's not true, you know – he just likes some assistance. Because maybe then he won't screw up again.
As the stuffs away the map, Hiro seems to consider for a moment, then nods sharply as if remembering. Ando stays behind this time and there's some strange glint shining in his eyes. Awe, perhaps. Peter shifts, amused. With Hiro, everything seemed heroic – straight out of the pages of a comic book.
Cracking into a smile, the friend observes, "It's just like in the future. Only, you don't have that scar." What? Peter thinks, puzzled. They all know he can't scar, ever since that night in Odessa. But he doesn't have time to ask.
A hand on his shoulder, Hiro squeezes his eyes shut and he knows what's coming.
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In an instant, the city morphs into an empty hallway and wooden doors that proudly bear the company logo. "We're in." There are no windows, so he assumes it's the ground floor.
"Which way?" Hiro asks him, fluorescent lights shining back from his glasses. Peter frowns, trying to concentrate. It doesn't work.
Maybe a map would help. Hiro points at a fire exit plan. But the precise location fails him again, and maybe he rushed with the girl's ability in his impatience to go after the villain. "Nothing," he breathes. All the rooms look the same.
"Is he gone?"
"No. He's here. I just can't–" Peter inhales, focusing once more, but it's like trying to control a limb that has been paralyzed all his life. Defeated, he steps away from the wall.
They hear nothing; in fact, the whole building feels eerily quiet. "I think we should split. Check everything. He's around here, somewhere."
And that's the best plan for now.
Going through the empty corridors they don't meet a soul – the staff is gone, missing, alarms off and doors unlocked, mostly. Like someone has already done the work for them. They take a turn to the left, stepping over some knocked out guards, maybe dead. It all feels too easy. Easy enough to be a trap.
"What's happened here?" Nathan's voice bounces off the whitewashed walls, unanswered, unheard. Unnecessary. Niki shrugs silently, and reaches for the gun, in case their luck failed them.
He gestures to the stairwell and they descend to the basement floor. The outward correctness ends right here – just plain concrete walls and metal doors. Something that Matt already told him about. Their footfall echoes in the claustrophobic corridor that winds like tunnel, one turn leading to another. And another.
A bloody trail leads them on, but it ends just as abruptly as it started. A few casings lie on the floor, but no bullets. No wounded either. What they find is a door – ajar, pried open.
Venturing inside, they see a lab. Or what used to be a lab. Research and tubes litter the office; papers, files spilled out on the floor as if the cabinets had been overcome by nausea. Clearly, they're not the only ones who came looking for something. And maybe it's been already found.
Niki stoops, picking up some random folders – whole lives encapsulated, analyzed, and put in store. Died in an accident. Possible suicide. Gone missing. Some formal way of saying 'eliminated'. She throws it away, disgusted by the cold formality of the accounting.
"Anything?" Nathan asks, discarding another heap of documents. All useless.
"No. Just some dead people."
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As if to argue his last remark, there's a clack from outside, breaking the silence. A startled glance at Nathan and he must have heard it too. He presses a warning finger on his mouth, but she is already advancing to the door, careful not to make a sound.
For what feels like an eternity, they listen.
Finally, the steps continue, short and hesitant, but definitely progressing. Grabbing his gun, he ducks behind a counter, ready to aim. Another door creaks and the footfall sounds unmistakably near, unmistakably behind the corner. Cocking her gun, Niki ducks against the wall, waits for the intruder to come close. Closer. Close enough.
It's her who reacts first. "Don't move."
Nathan stands up and lowers his gun as he sees who they're aiming at, and gestures Niki to do the same.
It has happened before, in different places, but it was always a sign. "Hiro?"
The eyebrows creep high behind the dark hair and the inevitable follows. "Flying man!"
Nathan laughs briskly, and for once, he doesn't mind the nickname.
The terminal isn't particularly busy, yet the queue doesn't move one bit. Noah takes out one of his passports and flaps it to the page where he sees himself looking at him. Butler. Claire always hated that name, but it sounded nice and simple to his ears. Simple and unnoticeable. And maybe that's why she hated it.
"Are you sure about this? Maybe you should stay with Claire." Matt is busy mind reading. Or his worrying has become that obvious. "I told you I can handle this alone."
The check in has just started and the gates are open, calling him back.
"She's with the Haitian. It's as safe as it gets," Bennet replies, ignoring the bad feeling in his guts. She's got to be fine. Molly's life is at risk right now and getting her as far away from Sylar as possible is their prime objective. One thing at a time.
The girl rests her tiny head on Parkman's arm and lets out an incoherent mumble. "Hang on, sweetie," Matt answers her and offers a smile that the adults have stopped believing in.
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The lights blink on and off. No smoking. Fasten the seatbelt. Put your baggage in the overhead lockers. They all know the routine by now.
Molly lets go of Matt's hand and climbs to the window seat, but all she sees is the wet curtain of rain and yet another plane slowly assuming its place on the runway. She's flown before, but she'll need a few dozen times more to lose the excitement. It's taking long, though. The flight attendants bustle, nervous, and keep apologizing for the delay. A group of German tourists make some disgruntled noises and the rattle of Spanish grows louder with the passing time. Bennet sighs, frustrated.
Fifteen minutes and the mess is cleared. The flight is not cancelled. He almost hoped.
Noah shifts on the seat, and reluctantly, he switches off his phone as a pleasant voice declares the impending takeoff. For the next four hours, they hear nothing from New York.
Second floor. Peter sneaks along the wood paneled corridors, listening for any sound of human activity. Dead bodies are silent. He'd stopped checking for the pulse after three negative results. There are several more in the office spaces – men and women, with their skin already cooling down and he forces himself to keep looking. Somewhere there's the one that's alive.
Finally, he catches a short grunt several doors to the left. Staring at the plaque with the regional manager's name on it, he hears another huff and a muted thud in the space before him. Leaning a hand on the smooth surface, the door yields easily, making a plaintive creak.
There's a man in the leather chair behind the desk and the light from the window casts too little light to be entirely sure.
"Peter, my friend. Thank God you came," Adam shouts, sounding genuinely relieved. And Peter notices why. He is tied up. Hands, feet, the entire body fixed to the desk. Unable to move.
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"What is this?" Peter questions, suspicious about the whole thing. He scans the guy for clues and notices some holes in his jacket, big enough for a bullet to pass through. A few bullets actually.
Adam writhes in the restraints, gesturing him to take them off. "They tied me up after I tried to escape. Some weird experiments. Give me a hand with this, will ya?" The empath doesn't move a finger. Just crosses his arms.
It doesn't quite add up. He's not offering his assistance and he certainly doesn't believe the guy.
Adam rolls his eyes, sending his head back with an irritated jolt. "I'll explain everything, just get me out of this."
"First, tell me why you're here."
Taking a deep breath, his nostrils flare and he forces himself calm. "There's not time for catching up. Either untie me or we'll both blow into pieces while you get your nice little chat." Peter flinches.
"What are talking about?"
Adam repeats, slow and clear, "The whole building is a time bomb."
"Great." The older man cheers, finally free from the bonds. "Now, let's get the hell out of here." – "No."
He tries to escape, but bounces against an invisible wall. Peter turns around, heading the other way.
"Hiro's still in the building. Probably Nathan as well."
"You do realize we might not make it if we go after them?"
But the empath doesn't listen, already heading back to the lower floors where he last saw him.
Adam curses him under his breath and then turns to catch up with him. Bloody hero.
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"We must go back to Peter," Nakamura says, adjusting his sword. – "Just a minute."
On their way out, Nathan found something. An older file, with only half of its contents left, yellowish sheets sticking out in the chalk white papers. He skims the text and it appears to be some kind of a report, difficult to tell what. He looks for the date, but doesn't find it. No company logo, just some weird symbol that–
Some loud noise in the corridor and the echo of two pairs of feet, advancing fast.
"Hiro!"
If he could just find the rest of the file…
"Nathan, let's go," Niki pulls at his arm. "Leave it."
Just a few more seconds…"You have to teleport us out of here."He finds the rest of the file. A familiar name on the list. But it might already be too late. A loud bang and the ceiling cracks. Some moments later they'll be buried alive.
A slim hand grabs his wrist and he recognizes Niki's voice in the shattering building.
"Nathaan!" Peter echoes.
He answers, but it's all eroded by the turmoil of falling cement.
They land on the tarmac – all five of them – into the tranquil night of New York City. Covered in dust and cement, they keep on coughing as they try to regain their feet. Somewhere in Odessa, thousands of miles and two hours away, a building collapses into a cloud of dust and piles of debris. They are alive, breathing. Once again, they have cheated death.
Some passers-by give them odd looks. The alley assaults their senses with the putrid smell of rotten food and garbage. The smell of reality.
"What the hell was that?" Nathan mutters and spits out pieces of sand and dust, still clutching the folder that almost cost his life.
Peter and Hiro look positively exhausted. Niki's arm is crushed, coloring purple, shirt torn.
"That was a close call."
Everybody's eyes turn to Adam. The immortal villain stands up, brushing the dust off his Armani suit.
"Would have taken me eons to dig out of that grave."
To be continued…
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Notes: Made some edits to the end notes of the last chapter regarding the shippier storylines. Basically, I've decided to go with the original idea. Don't worry, lots of character interaction and drama still coming.
Next: The parallel part features Sylar, Claire, and Elle. More soon.
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Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed the update. Comment if you're following!