Apocalypse by SLynn

Summary: Three years have passed since the explosion and life has drastically changed for everyone. This isn't the world they imagined they'd be saving.

Spoilers: Up to 'Fallout'

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

Chapter 15: Council

"Still nothing?"

"Sorry."

"But that face…"

"I think it's time you consider the possibility that it may just be a dream," Beatrice said with a sigh.

Jonah shook his head, certain it meant more. That the face from his dreams, that person, was somehow the key to unlocking his past.

"It's like I've told you before," Beatrice continued. "Without something solid, a name or a place, something concrete, I can't do it. Even with these things, sometimes it's not possible. I'm still learning so much about what I can do, how far I can go. I wish for your sake that I could do more, but…"

"I know," he interrupted with half a smile.

"Are you sure there was nothing more? Nothing new?"

"Positive," Jonah answered. "It was just like always. The storm, the empty streets and her. Always her. Running away and looking back at me…"

He didn't know how to describe it further. It was like the harder he tried to fix her face in his mind, the more it slipped away until all he was left with was a mere impression. Hopeful and naïve. Terrified and beautiful. Strong. Always, strong.

"Beatrice," a young man called from the door. "It's nearly time."

"Thank you. I'll be right there."

"I'm keeping you from more important things again," Jonah said, only half serious.

"More arguing. More questions. More indecisiveness. No decisions," she stated with a laugh. "Very important."

Jonah smiled back at her, knowing she didn't mean it. That Beatrice, like the rest of them, was just growing impatient and worried. Life had been too easy lately. It felt like the calm before the storm.

"You should be on the council," Beatrice added, standing to go. "You found this place. You were the one who first thought it was all possible. David…"

"David's intentions are good," Jonah cut in quite quickly.

"Whose intentions don't you think that of?"

Jonah shrugged as if caught, admitting to the fault.

"That's exactly why I shouldn't be on the council. Among other reasons."

"Nonsense. It should be you. David worries me."

"What does Albert say?" Jonah asked, suddenly serious about the matter.

"Same as always," Beatrice answered. "That he'd know if something was wrong."

Jonah nodded, accepting that as well.

"Would you take his place if we asked?"

"You know…"

"I know nothing of sort," Beatrice cut in sharply. "I'm serious. You'd have a lot of support."

"If you want the popular vote you should be talking to Jacobs."

"But it should be you," she argued.

"Why?" he asked. "I can't do anything. I can't remember anything. I'm not cut out for it. I…"

"You're a good person," Beatrice answered. "You have a good heart. I know you'd make a great leader."

"You've got the wrong guy."

There was a general buzz in the assembly room as the people gathered together. Claire hadn't wanted to come but Niki and Micah, with Jacobs help, had persuaded her to join them. Together, the four of them found their way to the front of the room, waiting for the three members of the colony's council to appear.

"What are these things like anyway?" Niki asked Jacobs, liking the old man despite some of his odder ways. Maybe even perhaps because of them.

"Kind of like town hall meetings," he returned. "Typically they come out, say their spiel, and then take questions if anybody has them. It's fairly routine."

"And they decide everything?" Niki continued to ask. "Everything for everyone?"

"Mostly," Jacobs answered. "There are some things that are handed down, every day things like housekeeping rotations, general perimeter guard duty; the things we all take turns doing. Each task has a supervisor and all the supervisors meet and decide who does what and when."

"Sounds a bit military," Niki commented.

"It is," he said, "a bit. But there are no stockades, if you're curious."

"So no troublemakers?"

"None so far. We are self-policing and mostly a quiet set."

Niki nodded silently, not sure still how she felt about any of this.

The lighting in the room wasn't bad considering that they only had a few generators going. Mostly it was lit with candles except towards the front where the council would speak. There had been a small platform set up for them, as most of the crowd was standing, but no microphones which Claire thought was odd. She wasn't sure how anyone would be able to hear, the racket was awful. Or maybe she'd become so used to her small circle of friends that this many people was too overpowering.

After a few more minutes wait the doors opened and the room grew quiet as the three members of the council entered.

Claire's first impression was that of surprise. Somehow she'd expected something more than the three average people who stood before them now, but it was just two regular looking men and one woman.

"The man on the left," Jacobs whispered to them, pointing slightly at the average-sized blond man, "that's David Spencer. He just joined the council a few months ago."

"Why's that?" Claire asked back.

"Another time," he said. "It's a long story. The woman you see, that is Beatrice Cabalo. Very bright. Very gifted."

"She's so young," Niki commented, taking in the Filipina's appearance.

"Don't let that fool you," Jacobs said with a smile.

"Who's the last man?" Micah asked quietly, staring at the tall figure who had just made his way onto the stage. He was hard to miss. The African-American man had a full gray beard, long coat and cane, and had to be at least seventy years old.

"That is Albert," Jacobs answered.

"Albert what?" Claire asked.

"Just Albert," he replied. "He says he has no need for a last name. A lot of folks around here feel the same."

"Thank you all for coming," David began causing all mummers to cease immediately. "We know it's been awhile since our last public meeting and we realize a lot of you are concerned. There have been a lot of rumors circulating about the Order, about rations, and about deaths among us. Let me start first with the Order."

"He's very smooth," Claire whispered to Niki.

"Political," she returned, eyebrow raised.

Neither of them liked it.

"The Order," he went on, "is not planning to invade us. You all know that several of our people, at their own risk, have been frequently in and out of their territory and there is no truth in this at all."

At this the crowd began to break out in angry whispers.

David looked flummoxed.

"Please," Beatrice said, stepping forward; hushing them with a word. "Please. We can only tell you what we know. Henry Jacobs has returned today and has said as much himself. Most of the Order still does not believe we exist. People who do hear of us are still heading to the decoy city. We aren't relaxing our posture, but as of right now we see no danger."

"What have you seen?" a woman's voice asked from the crowd.

Beatrice lowered her head, and Claire saw for the first time that she was indeed young; probably only a few years older than herself.

"Our contact inside the Order was killed, so I can not see anything right now."

Suddenly the room was alive with voices.

"Did they find out who he was?"

"Was there anything new?"

"They're killing us now, I told you. They aren't bothering with internment."

"How did it happen?"

"Settle down," Albert called out sharply, rapping his cane on the floor. "Everyone. This is no way to start. We don't know how he died, just that three nights ago when Beatrice tried to contact him, it was too late. We will get the answers we need, but all of us must have patience and above all no one must panic."

There seemed to be a general murmur of agreement and Claire got the impression that even though there was no official leader among them, Albert was the unofficial one.

"Um," David began again after a lengthy pause. "We were also going to discuss rations. With our growing numbers, we will have to do a better job conserving…"

Claire's attention began to wan. She had the distinct impression that someone was watching her.

She tried to regain her focus, to concentrate on the speaker at hand, but she couldn't shake the feeling.

It was probably exhaustion; the last few days, especially last night, had been grueling. Even with her super recuperation skills, she needed a break. A real rest.

Likely it was just paranoia. Claire wasn't used to large crowds, or being around people she did not know. It had been a very long time since she'd been in public like this.

Still.

Glancing around from side-to-side, she saw no one out of the ordinary. All eyes were on the stage.

But it wouldn't go away.

Finally she looked over her shoulder to scan the back of the room. All the people nearest her, just behind her, were also watching the stage. They were all listening as far as she could tell with rapt attention. Everyone except…

At the very back of the room, leaning against the wall, she saw him. Claire looked right at the man who was looking right back at her.

It seemed like everything had stopped at that instant. Claire felt her breath hitch. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be real. He was dead. He was gone. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be him.

"Peter?"

In a snap, the room was alive again. People began to move about, hustling around and talking again at full volume. The meeting had ended and the crowd was rapidly dispersing.

"You ready to go?" Niki asked her, tugging gently on her arm and drawing her attention back to them.

No one had heard her. No one else had seen.

"Claire?" Micah called out, growing concerned.

"I saw him."

"Saw who?" Niki asked.

"I saw Peter," Claire answered in an agitated tone. "I saw him. He was in the back of the room just now and he saw me too. He was right there."

Claire pointed at the now empty patch of wall.

Niki and Micah exchanged a nervous look.

"I think you may need to go lay down for a bit," Niki suggested. "You've had a…"

"I know what I saw," Claire argued. "He was there. How could you think I wouldn't know him…"

"I'm not saying you didn't see him," Niki tried. "I just think that…"

"Jacobs," Claire said quickly, ignoring Niki and taking hold of the older man's arm. "Did you see? There was a man in the very back. He had dark hair and a long coat. A hat, he was hearing a hat."

"What kind of hat?" he returned. "A baseball hat?"

Niki shook her head, but not unkindly, hoping the man wasn't just playing with her.

"Yes."

"I saw him," Jacobs said, not understanding her urgency or the looks he was getting from Niki. "Jonah always stands in the back."

"Jonah?" Claire repeated, suddenly crestfallen.

"Yes," Jacobs continued. "Nice guy. He wears the hat to hide the scar, which I'm sure would make an interesting story if only he could remember it."

"Scar?" Niki asked, perking up. "He has a scar?"

"Where is it?" Micah joined in. "Is it on his face?"

"I told you," Claire said firmly. "I knew it was him."

"Hold on," Jacobs said, putting his hands up to stop them from questioning him. "What am I missing here? What's going on?"

"That man," Claire said. "That man you said was Jonah, that's not who he is. He's our friend, Peter. I know it. It's been three…"

Claire couldn't continue; her emotions wouldn't let her.

"Can we meet him?" Niki continued. "We need to be sure."

"Of course," Jacobs answered with a look of concern. "I can take you to him now if you'd like, but I'm not sure how much good it will do."

"You don't believe…"

"I'm not saying that," Jacobs said, interrupting Claire. "I'm saying that Jonah might not believe you."

"I don't understand."

"Jonah doesn't remember anything about before he came here," Jacobs continued. "He showed up one day when we were still looking for a place to begin and brought us here. He didn't know his name, his age, where he was from, nothing. We only call him Jonah because Albert said it was appropriate. It kind of stuck."

"Well, what about his powers?" Niki asked. "If…"

"He doesn't have any," Jacobs said with a shake of his head.

"Then it can't be Peter," Micah said sadly.

"Unless Sylar…" Claire began, but couldn't bring herself to finish.

"I'll take you to him," Jacobs said firmly. "To the council as well, they'll want to meet you. Albert in particular likes to welcome everyone new. I imagine that's why Jonah took off so quickly anyway. They are probably all together."

"When can we go?" Claire asked.

"Is now soon enough?"