A/N: I didn't get much reviews on the battle chapter, so whoever is reading, and thinks about reviewing on this chapter...please! review on the battle chapter! Also, please see the A/N at the bottom.
Chapter Eleven
"Makeshift Sanctuary"
Everyone looks for sanctuary, a place to call home, a place to feel safe against the dark rules of the world. It is necessary for the race we call humans because it has given us the miracle of grace, of safety, but we all know it won't last forever.
Sanders-Hawkins Residence, Las Vegas
For the third time today, Peter had the dream again. He closed his eyes, and he was immersed with the feeling of inevitable guilt.
It was as if the world was going to end, despite the fact that they were in a tight-knitted building, with only two doors opening up to the whole humanity. It was blurred in his eyes, everything, but one thing stayed consistent: the strong grip on his shoulder held by Claire.
"Peter, I think it's time to go now," she said, worriedly.
He couldn't talk, he could barely breathe, but one thing was for sure, he could think. And the one thing on his mind, it kept screaming and screaming out to escape his lips, was the name Hannah.
"Peter, we got to go," Claire kept saying.
"Can't…" Peter managed to say.
"Yes, you can," Claire placed her hands on his face, looking at him. "I am counting on you. Please."
She'll hate me, Peter kept thinking. She already does. I can let her down. Claire placed a subtle kiss on his lips, as Peter found another hand heavy itself on his shoulder: Hiro.
"Peter, we must leave now," he said.
Could he? He looked back at Claire, who said, "I believe in you. You can do this." And he could, he closed his eyes, and saw nothing by darkness engulfing him. But he wasn't in the time for celebrating, because he just proved what Hannah had been saying all along: he had let her down, once again.
He let his daughter down, beyond all reason. He could only pray Evan kept his promise to protect her, so that he could see her again, tell her he never wanted to hurt her. He was still thinking, as he hit hard on Niki's floor.
Secret Facility, Russia
Evan awoke with a pressure on his left shoulder. He turned sideways to see a sleeping Hannah, her head on his shoulder, still immersed in beautiful sleep. He let it slide, and observed his surroundings.
He immediately grew concerned. It was not a place he would want to be: it looked like an isolation cell, like the ones you saw in one of the cells of a mentally deranged person, with padded walls surrounding them.
Light bounced off every surface, as he realized there was no way out, no doors, just endless soft, white walls around them. Hannah's head moved slightly, as she slowly woke up. Her head moved off his shoulder, and looked around.
"I knew you always thought I was crazy," she said. Evan looked at her, smiling. "Where the hell are we?" she asked.
"You'd think I'd know," Evan answered.
"The last thing I remember is passing out, after that, it's blank," Hannah looked at him.
Evan stood up, looking down at the future daughter, and walked to the nearest wall. He put the palms of his hands on the padded walls, and concentrated.
"What the hell are you doing?" Hannah asked.
"Using my abilities to get us out, what does it look like I'm doing?" Evan looked at her.
The teenage boy closed his eyes once again and resumed his work. He could feel the palms of his hands getting hot, getting closer to busting him and Hannah out of here. But when he opened his eyes, he realized his hands weren't glowing with their normal blue blasts, they were empty.
"What the-?" he cursed.
"What's wrong?" Hannah got up to face Evan at eye level.
"I don't think I have my powers anymore," Evan answered.
"That's not possible," Hannah looked at him.
"Believe me, it's possible," Evan said.
Hannah tried to make a strong armor around her arm, out of cold metal, just like in the fight. But she couldn't. It took all of her to even try, and it wasn't even working.
"Shit," she cursed. "Shit shit shit."
Great, she was stuck in a fuckin' whack shack, with no powers, and the only one even listening to her was an asshole named Evan. Great.
Sylar never really had a friend, and it was somewhat a joy to finally belong to a team who actually needed him. Knox and Flint might've had their objections to the serial killer, but welcomed him nonetheless.
His mother, as psychotic as she was sometimes, was still his mother, even though she gave him up as a two year old. He forgave her, after she said it was the best for him at the time. He realized he wasn't so different from his mother anyway. Besides, weren't all great minds crazy and some point?
As a boy, little Gabriel Gray was shunned out, being labeled the geek who liked to play around with science equipment, but found peace in his own isolation. But somewhere deep inside of him, he was still looking for a kin to understand every high and low of his life.
Daphne did, a little. She had her arguments, saying he shouldn't have killed all those people, he shouldn't have, but she knew. She looked through him and saw behind the strong frame were just a few pieces of broken glass.
Daphne tried to make him stop killing, stop his so-called 'hunger' for power, but he told her countless time it was 'evolutionary imperative.' It had to be done, and he had to take what others didn't deserve.
The young Millbrook never liked talking about his past victims, instead concentrated on the good that she knew was deep down inside of him. He was sweet, she had to give him that, gave her pleasant dark jokes that were amusing to hear when she had a bad day, and he was, no doubt, a handsome man.
Daphne convinced him to smile once in a while, because, truthfully, she hadn't seen him smile unless there was an ulterior motive behind it, or another victim.
"You keep feeling guilty, Daph," Sylar crept up on her.
She was in the observation room, surrounded with cameras displaying every move every agent or prisoner was making. Both of them were still injured from the battle. Daphne still had a little tissue over her nose to stop her from bleeding, and, Sylar, well; he was injured in every way possible.
"And you don't expect me to be? Look at them, Sy, they're just kids," Daphne said, pointing to the middle screen showing Hannah and Evan in the isolation chamber.
"Sometimes I wonder why you're on this side. You have the heart of a hero," Sylar sat on one of the chairs.
"And I thought being on this team would change that," Daphne sighed, sitting opposite the serial killer.
"Why change sides? That's the million-dollar question, Daph," Sylar asked.
"Because I already lost everything I loved and fought for. What's there left to lose?" Daphne said, not looking at her friend's face, instead observing the cameras. The question rang in her head, long after Sylar left the room: What's there left to lose?
Sanders-Hawkins Residence, Las Vegas
Niki got the biggest shock as she woke up in the morning, with five injured heroes crashing on either the couch or the floor. Hiro and Ando took liberty in the hardwood floors, Peter had his sleep on DL's chair, his hand inches from Claire's, who sleeping on a bench, her head on the arm of DL's chair, while the pretty unknown hero slept on the family couch. Great, now she had seven people crashing at her home.
"Whoa," Micah said, seeing the new company in the living room. "Mom, did you have a sleepover without telling me?"
"Very funny, Micah. This is serious. How am I supposed to have seven people in the house?" Niki said, looking at her teenage son.
Micah shrugged to his mother's question, as she said, "I guess we'll worry about that when they wake up."
Micah sat down on his seat at the dining table, and smiled as his petite girlfriend got out of his room with sleepy eyes. She took a glance at the gang in the living room and shot Micah a worried look.
"Don't ask," he said. Niki looked at the two kids, shooting each other morning smiles.
"Wait, did you guys sleep in the same room?" she asked.
"Yeah," Micah said absent-mindedly, but then realized what he just said. "Don't worry, Mom, I slept on the mattress, she slept on the bed. Nothing happened."
Niki shrugged, and went back to preparing breakfast for the two teenagers. She heard a grunt from the living room, and saw that Peter was the first one waking up.
He got out the chair, and walked to the dining room where his company was. He looked horrible: pale in the face, unhealed scars, shirtless and blood worthy.
"Dude, you look like shit," Micah said, looking at the grown man.
"Language, Micah," Niki said, and his girlfriend laughed.
Niki walked towards her old friend, and surprised him by giving him a hug. "For what it's worth, Micah's right," Niki whispered into his ear, and Peter laughed.
They pulled apart, and Peter got his smile back. "What the hell happened to you, Peter?" Niki asked.
"Long story, Nik," Peter said, sitting down next to Micah. "We have the whole day," the teenager said.
Mohinder suggested a check-up on Peter and Hiro to see if they were fit enough to teleport to wherever Hannah and Evan were. Peter was a lost cause; he could barely walk without falling to the ground to Niki's help, and everyone was praying Hiro was strong enough. Unfortunately, neither was in shape to teleport.
"Their immune system was shot; it would take a few, two at the most, days for them to recover from their battles," Mohinder said to the gang.
"What if we just use normal transportation to get there?" Claire asked, arms crossed as Peter disappeared into his makeshift room in the Sanders-Hawkins home.
"It would take just as much time. Molly located them in Russia, and, even by plane, it would take a few days to arrive there. It'll be safer to use teleportation," Mohinder said.
"Russia? What the hell are they doing there?" Mia asked.
"Guesses are, it's all part of Natasha's master plan," Micah said, and waved his hands like a magician, making a fool of himself in front of his girlfriend.
Claire got her laugh back thanks to the boy genius, but Peter needed to, too. She hadn't seen him smile ever since before the battle, every smile he gave her was fake, and distant. Claire wanted to go to his room, comfort him, but just as she started to the door, Hiro stopped her.
"No, Cheerleader Claire. Peter needs his rest," he said, his hand on her shoulder. Claire nodded, but a part of her wanted to just go into the room, do nothing but lie in his arms.
Mia was worried. It was probably the first time in her life, but she admitted it. She was worried. Ever since he was a boy of fifteen, she'd been all he had.
They were each other's family, and they understood each other. Black sheep of the family, under-achievers, but Evan did have something over her: he was confident.
He was confident in everything he ever did, from breaking out people in a bank heist to cooking his first meal (pasta: bad). They hadn't had the most amazing four years together, but at least they spent those four years together.
"Mia, are you okay?" someone asked her. She turned to see the handsome Indian man looking down on her.
"Just worried, that's all," Mia said, putting her hands over her face.
"I don't think you have reason to be. From what you've told me about Evan and Hannah, they sound strong enough to face this by themselves," Mohinder said, sitting opposite her.
"Yeah. It's just that, I've been all he's got for the past four years," Mia said. "We're each other's family."
Claire watched as Peter slept soundly, without a snore to interrupt him. He looked beautiful, as cheesy as that was. Perfect skin that felt soft under her touch, lips she longed to kiss once again, and arms she wished were wrapped around her.
She disobeyed Hiro's comment, and crawled into bed with him, seeing him sleep softly. Their faces inches apart, closer to being the death of Claire. She already felt his breath laying on hers, a sudden tension that made her want him even more than ever.
Her fingers placed themselves on Peter's muscular shoulder, feeling every tension in their muscles. Their lips were merely inches apart, and Claire finally made a move to close the space between. She brushed her lips against his, and she thought it was better than heaven.
Within moments, she felt him kissing back, feeling that he wanted this, too, he wanted her. The thought itself sent Claire careening off the edge. Her hands lowered themselves to his naked torso, feeling his heated skin against her touch.
But they didn't stop there, they lingered at his jeans, playing, teasing him. His own hands guided him to her waist, covered by only a thin layer of one of Niki's t-shirts. Was this really happening?
"Mmm," she moaned into his mouth.
"We can't," Peter said, pulling away from Claire's kisses, but his hand still placed on her waist.
"You're right," Claire said, looking at him in the eyes. "We should wait until this is all over. We should wait until Hannah and Evan are back, and you're feeling better."
"No, I mean," Peter said. "I mean, we shouldn't do this. This, us." Claire backed away, and pulled Peter's hand away from her body, and stared, incredulous, at Peter.
"You're not serious, are you?" she asked.
"I am," Peter said.
Claire got off the bed, crossed her arms and said, "You're not fuckin' serious, are you? You kiss the living daylights of me, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me, then you say we fuckin' can't?" She was in disbelief. "Get things straight, Peter!"
"How can I do that? How can I possibly do that when you're here?"
Peter got up, and gripped on her arms. "I can't get things straight because you being here is driving me crazy, you're making me lose it!"
"What's wrong with you, Peter?" Claire asked.
"You wanna know what's wrong with me? What's wrong with me is that I am completely and utterly in love. With you," Peter said. "I'm in love with my fuckin' niece, which should not be happening! Because you're my niece, and I should not love you beyond everything, but I do."
Claire looked at him, feelings mixed between anger, disbelief and a slight feeling of happiness. But the happiness only lasted a while; it was soon replaced with inevitable anger.
"Don't," she said.
"What? Don't say what? I love you? Because that's the truth, Claire," Peter said.
"No! The truth is you're still afraid! After everything, you are still afraid!" Claire said, giving him an enormous wake up call.
"I love you, too." She…she loved him? "But, please, don't say it. Don't say it until you aren't afraid anymore," she said. "I'm going out. Please, don't try to find me."
Secret Facility, Russia
Evan once again found solace in sleep. What was a man to do in an isolation cell anyway? It wasn't like Hannah was going to do anything with him.
When he woke up, a few hours later, and still sweating like a pig, he saw an unconventional sight. He saw Hannie crouched down, hands together and eyes closed.
She was praying. Her eyes snapped opened once again, seeing that her companion was staring. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing. What were you praying for?" Evan asked. Hannah sat up next to Evan and looked at him.
"A lot," she simply answered.
"Like?" Evan asked, looking at her.
"Like for us to get our powers back, for us to get out of here, for my parents to get together…" her voice faded.
"Why even pray for that? They're too stubborn to listen to anyone, even if it is God," Evan said.
"They were meant to be, Evan. You'd think God wouldn't interfere," Hannah said. Evan spotted the anger in her voice, and asked,
"Hannie, what's wrong?" She looked at him directly in the eye and said,
"If God interferes, I only have six days to live."
"What do you mean?" Evan asked.
"If my parents don't get together in those six days, this me, the me you see right here," Hannah said, "won't exist anymore."
A/N: I am putting together a TFT Official Soundtrack...and I really need some songs for the two Discs and why not ask the opinion of the readers themselves?
Disc One will have character songs, general songs and couple theme songs. Disc Two will have events (battles...etc). You can submit your songs on your review, either this chapter or any chapter following.
The best will be put on the CD, coming out as soon as the last chapter is submitted.
-Aly