Author's note: Chylea, stop trying to give the plot away! :D It won't work, anyway, I'm not telling you anything.
Chapter 25
Lily was starting to get a little stiff, but she was afraid to move; she was well aware that the doctors didn't like her being in here while they were working, and she was being very careful not to irritate them enough to banish her. It might not have made much difference; RJ was out cold and had been, Dr Beckett had told her, for quite a while now. Still, if he woke up unexpectedly he'd likely go wolf straight away and she wanted to be on hand just in case.
"Lily, love, this is going to take a while yet. Are ye sure you don't want to go and rest?" Dr Beckett asked.
"No, thank you. If I'm not in the way, I'd rather stay, just in case."
"You're not in the way. But you cannae be comfortable there."
"It's fine," Lily insisted. "We're used to meditating in corners and things. Honestly, I'm fine."
He gave her a rather dubious look, but he did give up on trying to make her leave, so she counted it as a win. Mohinder hadn't tried to make her leave at all.
"Dr Beckett?" Dr Keller looked around the edge of the screen. "Sir, we're having a problem with Radek, can you come out here for a moment?"
"Go ahead," Mohinder agreed. "We're quite safe for a few minutes more."
"Alright. Dinnae touch anything, I'll be right back."
"His accent's getting stronger," Lily noted, unfolding from her corner and coming to stand by the head of the bed.
"Yes, I believe he's worried. We've encountered one or two minor problems. Nothing to worry about, we've compensated, but he's worried in case the treatment doesn't hold."
"Is that likely?" Lily asked. "I thought you guys were sure this would work."
"We are sure. It will work. It's simply proving harder than we anticipated."
"You're not upsetting the puir lass, are you?" Dr Beckett asked, coming back around the screen and pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. Lily made to move, and he waved her to stay where she was.
"He wasn't upsetting me," she added quickly. "He was telling me you still think it's going to work."
"Of course it's going to work. Have ye no faith, lass?"
"Some," she said with a faint smile.
"Stay where y'are, you're doing no harm there. Mohinder, are you ready for the next stage?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"Alright. Lily, this may be upsetting to look at, but he's not being harmed, alright?"
"Alright," she agreed hesitantly.
Mohinder activated the machine; bright lights encompassed RJ, and he screamed.
Casey was standing at the window again, studying the view. "You know, you've already stood there for, like, an hour," Theo told him, tossing his uniform top at him when he turned. "You're going to strain your eyes."
"Sun's coming up," Casey noted, pulling the top on.
"Oh yeah?" Theo came to study the view; the sun was rising in front of them, and sea and sky were streaked with gold and pink. "Nice."
"It is," Casey agreed, dropping onto the nearest bed. "God, I could sleep for a week."
Dominic looked up from the terminal in the corner. "We'll go join Lily, if you want to get some rest."
"Thanks, that'd be great." He stretched, yawning. "Wow, I can't believe how tired I am. I didn't even do anything."
"Tiger doesn't like being wet," Theo noted, tossing a blanket at him. "We'll be back in a while, alright?"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna hang out here. Hey, find out how Peter and Zelenka are doing, yeah?"
"No problem," Dominic assured him. "We'll let you know."
"Thanks." Casey rolled over as they left, turning towards the window again.
Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door; he rolled off the bed to answer it.
"Sorry," his guard apologised. "Your friends asked me to let you know Peter's already been discharged; Dr Zelenka had a few bad minutes, but he's expected to make a full recovery."
"That's great. Thank you very much."
"No problem. Do you need anything else?"
"No, thanks. I'm just gonna…" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, backing up to let the doors hiss closed.
"That's great," he murmured to himself, looking around the room.
***
The view was even more breathtaking than in the painting. Peter studied it for several minutes, wondering vaguely what the city looked like from the air and fighting the urge to just take off and find out. He was gripping tightly to the rail, ignoring the cold wet feel of it under his fingers.
The wound on his head had healed before any of the medics had really gotten a good look at him, and since he didn't seem to be injured they'd let him go pretty much straight away. His escort had offered to take him back to his quarters, but he'd asked for a little air first. For form's sake, the soldier had remained just inside the balcony door, watching him while still allowing him a little privacy.
The door hissed open and he turned to see Casey standing there. The boy was back in his training uniform and looked oddly uncertain as he examined the balcony from the doorway.
"May I…" He gestured vaguely.
"Yes, of course." Peter automatically stepped back, although half the balcony separated them. Casey took a couple of steps forward, grasping the railing and studying the view. "How's RJ?"
"Still asleep. Lily's with him."
"Are they finished?" Peter asked in surprise. When he'd left the infirmary both doctors had still been deep in the work. "They think it worked?"
"Won't be sure until he wakes up, but they think so."
"That's good." Peter shifted his weight, dropping one hand to rub against his pants. "You know, I painted this scene, back when this started."
"Yeah? Us?"
"The view from this balcony." He gestured vaguely; Casey automatically turned to look. "Me fighting you." Casey went very still, and he added, "Sylar."
"I'm Casey," he said uncertainly. "We tested it."
"No. You're Sylar." Praying that he'd scrubbed his hand dry enough, Peter flicked his wrist, filling his palm with electricity.
***
Sylar was sitting cross legged on the floor of the cells, eyes closed and breathing steady. Disturbingly, he still looked like Casey, and John noted with some anger that no one had bothered to offer him dry clothes. He had to be freezing; the brig was deliberately kept at just under comfort level.
"So," he drawled, folding his arms, "this is the part where you tell me your master plan."
"I'm not Sylar." He didn't move as he spoke.
"No? Want to tell us how the other one made the morpher light up? His friends—sorry, your friends—seemed to believe him."
"A trick." He opened his eyes, rising smoothly to his feet and mirroring John's position. "It flared red. It should have been white; it's Dominic's morpher, no matter who touches it. He just made a light to confuse you."
"Casey told me this brig wouldn't hold him," John said conversationally. "Got a snappy answer for that?"
"No." His eyes flickered to the control panel, and the forcefield turned itself off.
John took two quick steps back, out of the line of fire of the guards at the door. Casey didn't move until the forcefield turned itself back on; then he slowly unfolded his arms, letting them rest by his sides.
"You're not holding me here, John. This is voluntary incarceration. I want to see my team."
John turned to the nearest guard. "Get him something dry to wear. After he's changed, if he moves, shoot him."
Out in the corridor he tapped his radio. "Lorne."
"Yes, sir?"
"Put a tail on Casey. No interaction; report directly to me."
"Yes, sir," Lorne agreed.
"Alice?" he called.
"Yes, John," she said from behind him.
"Who's up with the Rangers?"
"I don't understand the question," she said apologetically.
"I have two Caseys, and they both say they're the real one."
"Ah. Where is the second one?"
"One in the brig, one up with the Rangers."
"I can't help you then, John. Footage from the brig is not retained, therefore I have no memory of it. I cannot examine the Casey in the brig."
"I've seen you in the brig. And there's scanners."
"Yes, there are scanners. And they even work. They're not the problem. The footage from those scanners is not stored anywhere. There is no record of anything that happens in there."
"Can you lie-detect him for me?"
"Scanners are not precise enough to do that anywhere but in the infirmary. Casey's team mates do not seem to doubt his veracity, though they are concerned about his health. They believe he may be ill after his swim earlier."
"But they think he's really Casey?"
"If they don't, they're not talking about it in any way I can detect. But he's not with them; they've only spent a few minutes together since your fight below."
John grimaced, thinking for a moment. "Where is he now?"
"Talking with Peter on a balcony on level seven of the Control Tower."
"Keep an eye on him."
"If he really is Casey, he'll know."
"If he really is Casey, it won't matter."
"Sir!" Lorne's voice was panicked.
"Yeah, Lorne."
"Casey's vanished!"