Chapter 21- Paint it Black

Nearly 8 hours had passed, but Gabriel sat mostly in the same position even though the faces of the wounded and worried changed as if in shifts, presenting fresh maladies and batches of trauma in a never ending stream of misfortune. The only comfort he had was knowing that the seats on either side of him were occupied by people who were not likely to bleed on him or drop dead any time soon. Peter had called Claire to tell her of the accident. Gabriel barely listened to his phone conversation, but if he told her anything else regarding his secret reservations, she wasn't letting on. She would occasionally glance at him apprehensively, but she made no attempt to say anything to him or try to offer false hope or cheer and for that he was grateful. The last thing he wanted was for her to fawn all over him. It would not only be ineffectual, it would just be downright awkward. Although he didn't really want her to come share his misery, he didn't try to stop Peter because Claire knew Jenna well enough to have her own concerns. He liked to think that was what brought her there rather than a misplaced need to babysit him or hold his hand.

Carlos had arrived approximately an hour after Jenna and Ethan were admitted. He sat alone in a corner of the waiting area, alternately shifting in his chair or getting up to pace for a bit. Occasionally, he would anxiously turn his wedding ring on his finger with a miserable expression. It was clear he was worried, and it gave Gabriel a small measure of satisfaction to know that he cared enough for them to be so outwardly distraught. Even though Carlos had never seen any of them, they cautiously kept a safe distance so he couldn't hear the group of strangers discuss his wife's condition or details of her life that as far as he was concerned, they had no reason or means to know.

Peter was able to keep them up to date, however, by reading the mind of every nurse or doctor that ventured into the area to speak with him and the news was generally not good. Although the messenger often left out important details in her progress in order to try and keep a small measure of hope alive, he was able to fill in the gaps with educated guesses and outright mind digging to get the whole story. The driver that hit them had been drinking along with taking pain medication, causing him to pass out and lose control of the car. Jenna's heart had stopped several times since arriving in the emergency room and they feared that all the cumulative lapses of available oxygen may have resulted in some level of permanent brain damage. As her ability to maintain her vitals was sporadic, she was placed on life support in an effort to give her the best chance possible to recover with a minimal amount of physical strain. Her EEG did come back positive, but she was in a deep coma. The nurse was quick to point out that it meant nothing in and of itself because recovery was often spontaneous, but they wouldn't know how she would fare until the next critical 72 hours had passed.

Ethan joined Carlos three and a half hours later, his face swollen and bruised from a broken nose and his arm in a sling to take pressure off his broken collarbone. He moved stiffly and his eyes were still hazy as though he still couldn't fully comprehend his circumstances. Gabriel carefully watched him as he painfully sat down and wondered if it was the residual effects of his concussion or if the gravity of the situation had finally set in for him. Whichever it was, he kept it to himself and didn't say much to his stepfather. He slouched in his chair, wincing as his sore muscles stretched, and lay his head back in an effort to try and get some rest while he waited.

Peter felt bad for him because he knew that he must have been in a good amount of pain even with the drugs he would have been given during treatment. Thankfully he had good health insurance, as he found out when he got his credit card back from the paramedic, so the house pharmacy filled his first round of prescription medication for him. It lay unopened in his lap along with his crumpled discharge papers, but at the rate things were going, he was going to be there for awhile so it was good that he had it.

"I'm going to go get some coffee. You guys want anything?" Claire asked yawning as she stood to stretch.

"Yeah, get some for me too." Peter gratefully accepted. His energy had been flagging for some time, but he was trying his best to stay alert and upbeat for Gabriel's sake. "Black."

Gabriel shook his head miserably to indicate he didn't want anything. Maybe he was tired or hungry, but he had no concern for himself. Every ounce of energy he had went into the rumination that had been churning in his head, replaying every second of the day's events, trying to make some sense out of the random chaos that threatened to take everything that he had. Even though he knew that the accident was a chance event, he couldn't help but wonder if he could have altered the outcome by changing the sequence. Any action on his part could have impacted the moment, and as the more ways he could have made different choices piled up so did the crushing sense of guilt he felt that he didn't follow through on any of them. He began to realize just how selfish he had been in his pursuit of abilities. He only hunted and collected powers that were directly beneficial to him personally such as regeneration, telekinesis, even Damian's life force sucking ability could prove very useful given the right circumstances. But never once did he consider taking abilities that could potentially be used to help others and as he thought of his daughter suffering somewhere within the walls of the hospital, he wished he had taken something to help mend her broken body in ways that the doctors and all their modern technology couldn't.

But aside from abilities, he had a myriad of opportunities to alter the events through chance. He could have met with her for dinner rather than Peter, but more importantly he could have simply forgotten about his precious need for secrecy and went outside to say hello to her, Ethan's recognition of him be damned. By doing so he could have led them away from the edge of the sidewalk out of harm's way, or in the worst case scenario he could have simply used his ability to stop the speeding car in its tracks and saved everyone. He valued his anonymity, but looking back, the potential risk of being outed as the former killer and terrorist he was would have been worth saving her and everyone else. He probably never would consider himself a hero because he knew his own dark tendencies too well, but he would have done it if only he knew what to expect.

As he was not able to see into the future and predict events, his only hope for resolution lie in the fellow immortals that flanked him. Each offered a potential unique solution to his dilemma and he was fairly certain that they would help him if only he could get up the courage to ask. Peter tried to do what he could to save Jenna and Gabriel was profoundly grateful to him for it. He knew the situation must have been just as stressful for him because of his own close relationship with her almost as a second father, and although he didn't have more than a passing knowledge of Ethan, his concern extended to him as well and was proven by his compassion for not allowing him to watch his mother suffer. Peter may have acted out of a convoluted sense of professional duty to render aid as well as his own motivation to intervene, but Gabriel couldn't help but feel it may have also been done at least partially as a favor to him. He didn't have to stay with Ethan as he did, but it was as if Peter knew he was serving as a proxy and that for once he held all the power while Gabriel was left on the sidelines helpless to intercede on behalf of his own flesh and blood.

Peter knew what loss was, both through his job and his personal experience. Witnessing the deaths of Nathan and Emma had left the empath a changed man, although he never quite entirely lost sight of what he always considered to be universal truths: the basic goodness of people, the unshakeable faith that love conquered all, and a fierce loyalty to those closest to him no matter how many times he was hurt or betrayed. He always found a way to forgive and hold out hope that things would get better. But there was no denying that although the intervening years lessened the sting, Emma's passing still left an indomitable hole in his soul that was reflected in his haunted eyes. Gabriel never sought confirmation, but he strongly suspected that Peter had on occasion traveled back in time just to see her again- the way he and Hiro did in the dark alley to verify Jenna's attacker. If he did it once to soothe his own pain, he could do it again to allow him a second chance to alter the course of events that led them all there. But he didn't ask Peter to take him back because Hiro explained the rules of butterfly stomping to him in very clear terms. He already knew that he couldn't change anything even if he did go back least it set off a cataclysmic unforeseen chain of events that her circumstance prevented. As perverse as it sounded, Ethan's broken bones and her near death experience may actually have beneficial effects that would be erased if he stepped in. Maybe this accident would spur one or both on to greater things and the world would suffer or miss out on some great achievement or invention all because he tried to spare them a little misery. After all, wasn't it his own entanglement and mistreatment as a slave that prompted him to bring the entire system tumbling down? His original plan had been to lay low until the storm passed and opinions of specials changed. He knew that others suffered for their abilities, but he was largely unaffected by their plight until he found himself hanging in a slave trader's tent.

Claire, on the other hand, offered a much more realistic and immediate solution. It was her special blood that had saved his very life from being lost to the ravages of the Shanti virus. Her blood also rescued the lives of both of her fathers from the effects of radiation poisoning and being shot in the head. As much as Noah always marveled over his ability to survive almost any demise, he was equally amazed that the Company man could outlive a direct shot to the eye with no abilities to aid him. At least some of the statistically improbable outcome could be attributed to the cause of the injury: leave it to Mohinder to screw up what would have been a sure kill shot for anyone else, he thought bitterly. Claire too knew all too well what loss was and she too could have used her ability to intervene, but the fact that she didn't spoke volumes. There was no doubt that she loved both Nathan and Noah even though at times the relationships were rocky and rife with issues of trust and secrecy. She could have given both steady infusions of her fountain of eternal youth to keep them young, to correct the devastation of their aging bodies, but she didn't and he knew why. It all went back to the conversation he had with Peter in his kitchen about why he chose to work as a paramedic when it was all so futile. Yes there were times and circumstances when saving a life was not only practical, but necessary. But how long can one go on cheating death? At what point does it become clear that the need to survive is rooted in the fear of personal loss, of selfish desire to keep the ones you love close? How many times could he save his daughter only because he couldn't let her go? As he told Peter, once rescued, death will only come knocking at a new entrance, at a different time. It was inevitable, and it was unbearable.

Claire looked over the paltry offerings in the all night cafeteria in the basement of the hospital. They had missed the last call for actual food hours before, so all that was left were packaged doughnuts, chips, soda, coffee, and candy bars. For a hospital, one would think they would offer healthier options unless they were trying to ensure future business via diabetes and high blood pressure. She yawned sleepily as she poured a cup of strong, black coffee for Peter and one for herself, to which she added sweetener and flavored cream. Peter's choice smelled wonderful and it served to awaken her senses, but she couldn't imagine the stomach cramps that would come from drinking something so bitter. Almost as an afterthought, she poured another for Gabriel even though he said he didn't want anything. It seemed rude not to at least try and offer him some form of sustenance especially if she and Peter were going to be eating in front of him. She didn't know how he took his coffee, so she stuffed a few packets of sweetener and creamers into her pocket for him to use as he saw fit before grabbing an assortment of snacks for them to share. She paid for her purchase and returned to the waiting area, carefully balancing the drinks in the flimsy cardboard carrier the cashier scrounged up for her, but she found herself mysteriously alone. Gabriel and Peter were gone as were Carlos and Ethan. Her heart sank in her chest. Suddenly, she wasn't tired or hungry anymore because she just knew that something terrible had happened.

In her absence, a nurse approached Carlos and Ethan with a calm but certain sense of tense urgency that sent a stab of panic through Gabriel's chest. "Follow me," the nurse instructed in an unmistakably sad tone, "there's been a development that we need to discuss."

Peter knew from his own time in hospitals and from Emma's conversations about her job as the head of ER's that it meant only one thing: the family had a decision to make. He swallowed hard and looked to Gabriel with all the compassion he could muster. "I'm sorry." He told him as sincerely as he could while he watched the vacuous darkness in his eyes swallow the last vestiges of all that made him human. "Do you want to go back there? If you do, I'll make it happen." He vowed cautiously. He could honestly see it going either way with his paternal instincts compelling him to be with his child and his logical side telling him to just walk away and avoid the pain. "What do you want to do?"

Gabriel's voice cracked slightly before it became flat and nearly monotone. He was clearly struggling to keep it all together and it was heartbreaking. "I have to see her." Peter was relieved that even though it was going to be devastatingly tragic, he was choosing to listen to his softer side. Sylar would no doubt return in full force, but for the time being he was still trying to hold on. He gave him a supportive, understanding nod and loosely grabbed his elbow to cloak them both in invisibility and to teleport them past any closed doors they might encounter. They easily caught up to the other party thanks to Ethan's slowed, limping gait and they followed right into Jenna's room.

She lay in a prone position, all manner of tubes and wires running in and out of her in a grotesque tangle of machinery that fed her, breathed for her, and kept her heart beating for her like she was some sort of cyborg. Her head was bandaged with snowy white gauze and her swollen eyes were taped shut in some mockery of peaceful rest. Carlos gently reached down to stroke a length of her dark but slowly graying hair while Ethan looked over the scene incomprehensively, no doubt thinking that it was partially his fault. If she hadn't tried to protect him… The doctor gave the family a moment to adjust to the reality of the situation before quietly beginning his speech. "She sustained a skull fracture in the accident, which caused her brain to swell. We removed a portion of the skull to relieve the pressure, but unfortunately she has had a stroke near the brainstem. She is now dependent on the life support system to maintain her vital functions." He paused to let the shock of the news subside before gently continuing. "We have consulted with neurologists and neurosurgeons, but we are of the opinion that she is unlikely to recover even if we attempt to clamp the bleeding vessel."

"So what are you saying?" Carlos stammered helplessly. "Are you saying she's dead?"

"No." The doctor patiently corrected. His job was never easy. "But she will not survive on her own without support. It is, of course, your decision as to whether or not we continue treatment, but her prognosis is very poor."

Carlos looked down on the woman he loved as tears clouded his eyes. He never imagined being a widower. In fact, he never thought that when he left for work that morning it would be the last time he saw his wife alive. He shook his head sadly and his voice was laden with anguish. "It's not what she wanted. She wouldn't want to live like this." He didn't want to let her go, but he had to. He had to do what was best for her.

Unseen in the corner of the room, Gabriel clenched his jaw and trembled slightly under Peter's grasp while the doctor solemnly powered down the machines that forced her body to function. He knew that it was the right thing to do, but he couldn't make himself let go. He was watching his child die before his eyes and everything within him screamed to find a way to bring her back. She had been his only reason for abstaining from giving in to his dark impulses, she was his connection to the greater world around him that he could never really be a part of, and she was firmly rooted deep with his very heart and soul. She loved him even though she knew who he was and what he'd done, and she taught him perhaps better than anyone how to be human again. As he watched her struggle for her final breath, he felt something with himself die along with her and he couldn't bear it. Peter had to act quickly because he had seen that look before and he knew that none of Sylar's cool logic, patient restraint, or well crafted theory would contain the overwhelming grief that was about to surge to the surface, so in a flash he whisked them away.

He didn't know if Gabriel still had his thermonuclear ability or not, but just to be on the safe side he deposited them in the middle of the desert in Nevada where nuclear tests were once carried out. There was no way he could stop an exploding man, but he could try and keep him from wiping entire cities off the map. He held his breath as he watched Gabriel drop to his knees, arms raised in surrender as he let out the most anguished, guttural, primal scream he had ever heard. Although the winds carried away the echoes of his sorrow across the hardpan desert floor, it did nothing to diminish the pain he felt inside and he found himself distraught beyond tears. He had only come close to such devastating agony once in his life and that was when Jessup tried to pull his chip out of his neck. But that was a physical sense of doom that was real, people could see the blood flowing from the open wound and his suffering could be measured in ragged breaths and spiked nerve impulses. But what he felt as he struggled wearily to his feet was purely emotional and could not be easily touched, witnessed, or soothed.

Peter knew. The scathing blast of anger, guilt, and sorrow that radiated forth from Gabriel had the same force as an atom bomb and the magnitude of it almost took his breath away. He felt compelled to reach out to him, to try and offer some sense that he wasn't alone, but Gabriel tersely waved him off dismissively as he stumbled away, weighed down with a burden of immeasurable grief that he wanted to bear alone. Peter placed his hands on his hips and squinted as he watched Gabriel wander off into the blazing light of morning, wondering what he would do or where he would go. Moreover, he wondered if he would ever see him again or if he would actually follow through on his implication that he would take his own life. Gutted by grief as he was, it seemed a likely possibility and it worried him deeply because of them all, Gabriel had the motivation and the means to succeed. He was a man who learned from his mistakes. He failed once, but he wouldn't fail again.