Chapter 24

This chapter includes a scene cut from the episode Godsend (Peter waking up from his coma) I take no rights to that scene.

Petrellis

Some Time Ago

She walked the silent hospital hallway to Heidi's room while flashbacks of having her own children danced in her head. She reached the doorway and spied Nathan holding his firstborn son on his lap, while Heidi slept in the bed beside him.

"I'm sorry–" And Angela started to leave.

"No, no–" Nathan said softly. "Come in," he whispered.

"If Heidi is–"

"No, no. She's sound asleep. " Nathan grinned at her. " Come meet your grandson." Nathan smiled at his mother and then back at his son.

Angela walked in slowly eying her grandson for the first time, feeling the same feelings she felt when she first saw Nathan, Peter and Claire as babies, she couldn't help it.

"So, this is— this how it feels." Nathan was moved by his own child.

"Yes." Angela sat down in a chair next to Nathan.

"I should have– I missed all this with Claire."

"Nathan..." she scolded him.

"I know you don't want me to talk about her...but she was my daughter, Ma. I can't just forget her, no matter how short her life was."

"I didn't want to upset. Sometimes we need to leave what's in the past, in the past." Angela set her fingers across her new grandson's forehead. "You were just not mature enough to understand it all – to deal with it, Nathan. You know that. Leave it in the past."

"All I want to do is protect him–"

"Make the world a better place, keep him away from the shadows," she spoke the words like a rock skips across a pond, because it was an obvious answer.

"This is how it feels?"

"Yeah." She nodded her head. "This is how it feels."

"It's overwhelming."

"I know." Her emotions filled her eyes, but she never let her tears fall. " I know." She said soft and slow.

"I'm excited and I'm scared, is that how you and Pop felt? "

"Well, I was considerably younger than you, so take how you're feeling and double that." She raised her eyebrows at him.

Nathan laughed softly and tears started to well in his eyes. "How will I know what to do? How will I know what the right decisions are?"

"You'll just do what you think is the right thing?"

"The right thing.." he repeated, knowing it was a family phrase. His father's words that would then become Nathan's mantra.

"And pray they forgive you." Tears started to well in her eyes.

"I never told you, a few months before the fire, I went to see them and I just..." His eyes filled with emotion. "I couldn't... I couldn't even make myself hold her, I just... walked away." He held in his emotion. "This time I'm gonna do good, I'm gonna do good by my kid, Ma. "

"I have no doubt, Nathan." She leaned in and kissed her grandson on the forehead. "I have no doubt." Angela kissed her son on the forehead as well. "I'm going to go call your father." She smiled and leaned back. "And I still think I'm too young to be a grandmother–"

Nathan smiled and leaned toward her as if he was going to kiss her on the cheek. "I've got a secret for ya, Ma, you're too young to be my mother too." And he kissed her on the cheek.

Angela stood, smiled and walked toward the door.

"Not a day over twenty-five." Nathan ribbed sarcastically.

Angela turned and gave him one of her wry looks, "Don't push it."

The Petrelli Family

Manhattan

2006

Angela reached the hospital at about five in the morning. The sun was just coming up. Nathan had called her the day before, from Texas – Oddess, Texas to be exact. Peter had collapsed, appeared to be in a coma, the doctors weren't sure why.

Angela had insisted Peter be brought back to New York, Nathan agreed – it was where the best doctors were. Angela waited as long as she could before she just had to leave her house. She didn't care if she would have to wait at the hospital, she just hated sitting around in her silent house. Just her and pictures of Peter and pictures of her family.

Angela got to the hospital just in time to meet the medevac, a helicopter, as it arrived.

The doors to the emergency room slid open for Angela and she walked into the hospital with her full force, demanding she be brought to her son. He was just arriving, Nathan had reached her on her cell phone as the car pulled up to the ER doors.

Nathan, still dressed in his tux, called out to his mother and Angela caught up with him just as Peter's gurney was wheeled past her. She took Nathan's hand and her stomach turned. It was her worst nightmare come true. Angela and Nathan tried to keep up with the doctors as they pushed Peter in front of them. It was a chaotic madhouse.

Angela had already arranged for Peter to have a private room. All Angela and Nathan could do was watch as the doctors and nurses hooked Peter up to medical equipment and lifted him into his bed. Watching was something Angela Petrelli was very much used to by now, but it still didn't make it any easier.

She remembers Nathan gripping the edge of her shoulder and her holding his hand. They didn't look at each other, just Peter.

Angela hadn't dreamed of Peter in Texas, of Claire almost being killed, of any of it, and she cursed the heavens as to why she hadn't. Still, by this time Angela knew everything that had happened that night directly from The Haitian. He called her moments after it all went down.

"He wants me to take away her memories." The Haitian told her over the phone in French. "Bennet. Her father."

"No." Angela was firm. "You will not do that." She paused. "You will have to tell her what is going on, within reason. She should always be in control of her mind. You will not violate her like that, do you understand me?" She paused. "She will have to know. And she will have to pretend she doesn't. Am I making myself clear."

"Yes."

"Good."

That night Peter collapsed Angela didn't dream it this time, she really did find out from Nathan.

And now Angela's son, Peter, was facing the fate she had dreaded for years. The fate of all empaths before him, certain death – if his heart couldn't take it, if the strain would be too much.

When he was settled in his bed and Nathan was dealing with the paperwork, Angela reached over and pushed Peter's hair out of his face.

Angela then leaned in and whispered in her son's ear. "You can fight this. You're stronger than this. You're a Petrelli. This will not break you." She leaned back away from his ear, looked at her son, heartbroken, and kissed him on the forehead.

She would sit by his bedside for two weeks.

Nathan stopped shaving on and off. He tried to work on his campaign, but he couldn't. He would sit with his mother for hours in silence. Angela spent most of her time watching Peter, reading assorted books and bugging the nurses and doctors, even though she knew they couldn't possibly understand what Peter was going through. She feared bringing anyone else near Peter with an ability he hadn't already absorbed, so she hadn't called the Company for help. Besides they hadn't been able to help the other empaths in their care, so what was the point. Not even Linderman could help Peter for his situation wasn't technically the usual medical kind. Angela would just have to wait it out.

Plus bringing in her own doctors, specialists from around the world, let Angela feel a sense of control she didn't have at the moment.

Still, Angela knew that her secret, Peter's secret life as an empath was coming to a screeching halt. For there was no way, after this incident, after Peter was checked into the hospital that the Company would not be able to figure out what Peter could do. What Peter was. That Peter had manifested as an empath. His cover was blown, but she would be sure hers wasn't.

The third night in, Angela sat half asleep with a book in her lap when her cell phone rang, it was Linderman. It was a call she had been waiting for. She left her book on her chair and took the call away from Peter's room and the restricted area of the hospital.

"Yes." Angela answered the phone as she exited ICU into an empty hallway.

"So, your boy's an empath." Linderman's voice had a lilt to as if it was a nice surprise.

"So it would seem," she said coldly.

"I am sorry, Angela. I mean for Peter -- the state he's in. I'm sure if we had known, we could have helped him, stopped him. Do you know how many abilities he's absorbed?"

Angela opened a door and walked into an empty stairwell for some privacy.

"No, I have no idea. But more than four for sure, less than 20."

"You never saw this coming, Angela?"

"I can't see everything, Daniel."

"No. I suppose you don't." He paused. "Fever, coma, all the usual signs?"

"Yes. He has all the signs of an empath overload."

"I see." He paused. "I am sorry for that. I'm sure it's very overwhelming." He paused again."Peter is not distracting you from our plan, Angela?"

"Of course not."

"We've seen empaths thrive, Angela. You know that."

"One, Daniel. We knew one. The rest all died." She held in her emotion and it came out as cold anger.

"What can we do, Angela? We could send over some of our doctors?"

"I know the history of this Company with empaths – so no.– And I won't expose him to any more abilities, not in this state. So, you'll excuse me if I say to you, stay the hell away from this hospital!" Angela hung up the phone and returned to Peter's bedside.

Peter dreamed of the bomb for his entire stay in the hospital. Angela knew the look through his eyelids, the rapid eye movement, he was using her power. Yet, Angela couldn't get herself to leave Peter's side, besides he already had her powerwhether she was in the room or not. Peter just didn't understand it all yet.

Yes her presence did make his power stronger within him. Since he was new to his ability, he had to practice at it, build it up, work it out, before he learned his full potential. But it was a potential he already had in him. Peter didn't need his mother to feel her power. And he didn't need his mother to be powerful. Everything Peter needed was already inside of him, Peter just needed to learn that.

Angela arrived at the hospital on the dot every morning at the same time each day, sometimes she fell asleep overnight in her chair. Mother and son dreaming – pre-cogging together, yet none of Angela's dreams showed her Peter's fate.

After a few days, the nurses all knew Angela and she knew them all by name.

"Hello, Mrs. Petrelli," said one of the nurses to Angela as she came in for the day.

"Hello, Janie." Angela smiled her usual smile. She had her purse on one shoulder and a bag filled with books and her shawl over one shoulder.

Angela saw her phone was ringing so she took the call outside the doors of the ICU. She wasn't suppose to have her phone on, but Angela never followed rules.

It was the Haitian. "She keeps asking to see your son."

"I know." She walked closer to the wall to talk in private. "That can't happen." She paused. "He's not in any condition to be anything to anyone right now. You must stop her. She feels connected to him, it's understandable, she just doesn't know why. But they can never meet again. She cannot be found out as part of this family. It is too dangerous. The things they will do to her not even she can recover from and you know that from what you've seen."

"Yes." he paused. "Don't worry. I will protect her."

"I know you will."

Two weeks five hours and fifteen seconds later Peter Petrelli came through his empathic coma quicker then any empath on record. He was a Petrelli, he was a fighter. He was her boy.

It was a normal night. Nathan had sat with her for a while before leaving. Simone, Charles' daughter had come to call. Angela and Nathan had become frustrated with the situation and each other.

"He's not gonna die, Ma!" Nathan spoke over her.

"Well, he will unless I do something about it." And she left the room to talk to the doctors. When she returned Nathan and Simone were gone.

Angela was getting use to sitting in cold hospital rooms at late silent hours of the night. She was using her black and white shawl to keep warm in the cold hospital room. She had lost patience for her book and she had no desire to sleep. What Angela needed was coffee. And when she came back to the room to find Peter awake in his bed, she dropped that coffee where she stood.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I thought I'd lost you." Angela raved on.

He was trying to get out of bed, but he wouldn't listen. He ranted and raved. She had run to him, run to him and try to stop him from leaving, as he tried to leave his bed. She tried to explain to him what had happened. That he had been in a coma for two weeks, he needed to stay in bed. Peter wouldn't listen.

"What ... What are you doing? What are you doing? Get back in bed."

"I need to leave, I need to get away from here." Peter wasn't listening.

"You've been in a ... You've been in a coma for two weeks, okay? Okay. Now, Nathan told me you've been running around like a crazy person, saying you're a hero. Okay? And it nearly got you ... It nearly got you killed." She stroked his head, like she did when he was a child. She took his eyes. "Listen to me. Peter? " She knew she didn't have his attention. "Peter. LISTEN TO ME! You may think that you can save the world, but you can't."

She understood so well that feeling. That feeling. Thinking that you alone can save the world, but it just can't be done. One person cannot save the world and all she wanted to do was save him that pain.

"Okay? Okay?" He had to understand.

"I have to save the world from me. " He sounded so sad and weak to her.

"Just so long as you do it from this bed. Sit." She helped him back into bed as he finally was relenting, but Angela looked at him uneasy, unsure of what he would do next.

Peter babbled on that she was right and he breathed heavy, his sentences weren't sentences, but only words.

"Okay, I'm going to go get a doctor.." And Angela looked at Peter, afraid he would move as she ran for the door.

She slipped on her coffee in the doorway, but held onto the archway for a quick moment, not to lose her footing. She looked back at Peter one last time to be sure he wouldn't move and then, within moments, she had darted down the hallway.

But just as she had feared, when she returned with the doctor, Peter was gone.

"Damn it!" She slapped her hand on the archway, taking it in her grip. "Damn you, Peter," she said softly, her voice had a timbre of fear and sadness in it. "Damn him!" she yelled again in her full voice.

All she wanted to do was kill him for doing this to her. For risking his life, for leaving and putting her again in such distress. For doing this to her. She was looking herself in the face and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Angela spent days looking for Peter in her dreams. She encouraged Nathan to continue with his campaign, to go to Vegas and meet with Linderman. Peter would have wanted him to go on, she told him. Angela knew just what to say to Nathan and Nathan agreed. Still, Angela could not seem to dream of Peter. She seemed to dream of nothing.

At one point, she thought she dreamt of the pigeons on Charles' roof. "What could that mean?" she thought.

She dreamed again of a place where people with powers were hunted and a world was divided. What gave Angela a sense of peace when she woke was that she felt, she knew, that the bomb would stop all of it. That peace was coming soon. There would be fear and pain for awhile, sure, but it would rise up into something beautiful, because her son would lead the way.

Angela was about to leave the house one afternoon when Nathan called her.

"Ma." His voice was low and husky.

"Nathan?" she knew something was going on, it was the sound of his voice. "Did you find Peter?"

"No. No..." he shook it off. "You're not going to believe this? But... I got a call from... Meredith called me today." He was still shocked.

"What?" Angela wasn't too happy.

"She's alive. Meredith is alive." He took a breath. "And so is Claire."

"I'll be right over." Angela hung up the phone and was right over to Nathan's office.

.

Angela and Nathan Petrelli

Petrelli Campaign Headquarters

Manhattan

Angela tried to explain to Nathan how going to see Claire was a bad idea. And it wasn't for any of the reasons she told him. It had nothing to do with money and everything to do with survival. Everything Angela Petrelli told Nathan was true. And everything she told Nathan came from the same reasons she hated Kaito for letting her see Claire that day the girl was handed off to Noah Bennet.

It was because Angela knew herself so well, and she knew her boy so well. So, again, nothing Angela said was a lie, it was the reasons behind it that were untrue. Angela knew for Nathan's sake, for Claire's sake, she had to be harsh, she had to be cruel, it was the only way. In her world, it was the only way to get the job done.

"We reap what we sow, Nathan," Angela retorted. It would be a sentence her son would throw back in her face, so to speak, while speaking about her sins with Bob Bishop.

Today the phrase referred to Nathan's supposed sins. "You have no one to blame but yourself," she said from her chair as Nathan closed the blinds for privacy.

"I'll go down to Texas and handle it," he said, all business. Nathan was stepping up, being a man.

It was time to work her magic. "So close to the election?" She knew if Peter could make him fear political ruin, this would work just as well. "Don't be ridiculous. If the press gets wind of this, especially on the heels of the Linderman scandal–"

"I cared about Meredith once. I owe her more than a phone call. I owe them both." He was sitting by now and playing with the baseball that used to sit in his father's office, gripping it like a stress ball in his palm. It made him look like Arthur.

"Besides..." he paused. "I'm this girl's father, Ma." He stressed with all concern.

Angela could see she was losing him. "You're a glorified sperm donor. Don't get emotionally attached." Only Nathan's mother could know just how to manipulate him, just where to push it. The two parts of his parents always fighting inside of him for control - the emotional and the practical.

"How can you be so cold? " he asked her.

It wasn't the first or the last time Angela Petrelli would be asked that question and she didn't care. Because Angela understood she had to be cruel to get results, to save lives. It just had to be done, because what Angela knew and what Nathan didn't was that he was being followed by Linderman's men. Linderman didn't even know Angela knew, but of course she did.

It was just another part of their cat-and-mouse game. Linderman and Angela were jockeying for control, to be number one – to be in charge – to have command over Nathan – and each other. And yet they both needed each other and neither one would admit anything but ignorance to the other's agenda, to the other's backstabbing.

If Nathan went anywhere near Claire, Claire would be found out as a Petrelli. And it would all unravel, everything Angela had built up to save Claire from her own fate. That could not happen. Nathan could never see Claire.

"Because I know you, Nathan." She started out, looking in a mirror as if she didn't care."Beneath the gruff exterior, you're a sap. And the moment that young girl looks at you with her sad, little weepy eyes, you're lost – you're finished. You'll start giving, she'll start taking – until there is nothing left." She closed her compact with a smack and looked at Nathan hard. "So prioritize, Nathan. Wire the money to Texas. Focus on the people who really matter." Again, all of it was true.

But Nathan Petrelli was Arthur Petrelli's son and he did not listen. And Nathan Petrelli was Angela Petrelli's son and he did not listen. He was unable to cut his own heart out and he went to Texas, to see Meredith --to give her the money. And he tried not to look at a picture of his daughter, of Claire, but much like his own father, he just couldn't. Angela was right. She did know her boy. She knew Nathan very well. Just not well enough. After all, he still went.

What Angela Petrelli had been right about was this: Nathan was being followed. And when Nathan appeared on Meredith Gordon's doorstep, it was official. Nathan was Claire Bennet's father, the cheerleader was Nathan's daughter. Now Linderman knew it was not just a hunch, but a fact. Angela wouldn't know any of this until it was too late. Angela's house was burning down around her and this time, she had no idea.

NEXT CHAPTER: Angela meets adult Claire.