Peter Petrelli

Toronto, Canada

He stood with his brother before his paintings. Peter was in shook that Nathan had sought him out. After everything they went through when Peter went nuclear, it seemed as if nothing could ever bring them back together. For the first time in his life, Peter felt as if his father would be proud of them.

"So," Nathan asked, "you can still paint the future and turn invisible, and that's it?"

Peter nodded, surveying his work. Waves of unease flowed of Nathan. There was something he was leaving out of the story of how he came to get Peter. "What's going on, Nathan?"

"It's not important, not anymore," Nathan said. He pointed to the first painting Peter had drawn, the one of the Asian man decapitated. "That one happened already. It was one of dad's old work buddies, Kaito Nakamura."

"Any relation to Hiro?" Peter asked, putting aside the emotion for a moment. There was a reason he showed his paintings to Nathan.

"As it turns out, yes. Kaito was Hiro's father. He's been working for me, recently."

"What do you mean?"

Nathan shrugged. "A lot has changed since you left." Peter smiled. That was a delicate way of putting it. "Let's just say the cat's out of the bag on that one." He moved on to the second painting. "That's Ma."

Peter nodded. The painting of the scarred woman in the hospital bed with two men standing over her seemed to scream at them. It was good to know that Nathan felt that it was their mother, too. It made everything feel almost normal again. "Has it happened yet?"

Nathan shook his head. "Not when I was there." He looked at the two other paintings of deaths. "The last guy should look familiar, too. That's Claire's adopted father, Noah Bennet. Good guy."

Peter sighed, remembering his niece. "How is Claire?"

"That's one of many things we need to sit down and talk about, Pete," the unease seemed to increase in intensity at the mention of Claire. "I don't know where she is. I came here looking for her. She should be here by now, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Peter stepped up to the last blank canvas he had, his eyes fading to white as his trance took over. He began painting.

Sakura Miyamoto

New York, New York

She almost dropped to the ground during the teleportation. It was a weird feeling, like being pulled by your insides to a place you know you shouldn't be able to reach. She wondered if Ando felt this way the first time Hiro teleported him.

Sakura looked around at the buildings, thinking New York was filled with tall, close-fitting buildings like in the movies. Instead, she found herself staring one massive building with a gate around it. (Where are we?) she asked.

(At the home of Nathan Petrelli. Hiro has a few words for him.) Ando said. (He's the man who flew Peter up and away from the city.)

Hiro said something in English, and Sakura kicked herself for not taking English lessons. Now she was being left behind. She followed them up to the door, and waited patiently as Hiro knocked on the door.

A woman answered the door, and Ando spoke to her in English. The name's Hiro Nakamura and Nathan Petrelli were all she caught. Sakura registered the fact that the woman recognized both names. She introduced herself as Heidi, and led them into a large parlor, seating them on luxurious couch.

Peter Petrelli

Toronto, Canada

When Peter stepped back, the painting was finished, but it made little sense. "Isaac told me he could search for someone," he said, a note of sadness in his voice.

"Maybe it just takes time," Nathan said.

The painting was a disturbing one indeed. It showed the front of the house they were in, and a number of people. Peter recognized a number of them; Kate, Nathan, Claire, and himself, but there were more. Claire was between Peter and Nathan, and Kate was in the background with a gray-haired young man. A large, intimidating man stood in the front, as if facing off with the others. There was a shadowy figure peering out of a nearby house, and in the far background, there was a glint of sunlight.

"What does it mean, Pete?" Nathan asked; worry now mixing with the unease. It grew stronger when Peter shrugged.

Will Stone

Seattle, Washington

He took the steps two at a time, knowing that someone was going to yell at him. He'd been gone all night, without calling. From two stories up, he could hear the voice of the one person he didn't want to talk to. "Damn. You came back."

Will looked up, into the face of Teagan Wilkes. Red hair flowed down around her freckled face. It was amazing how this woman was related to the sweet Mackenzie. "Bite me," he said, continuing to make his way upstairs.

"I take it you took the test and it came back positive," Teagan said with a sneer.

It took everything he had not to come back with what Mackenzie called his trademark snide remarks; you don't antagonize a woman who can shoot flames six feet without a flamethrower. "It's none of your business what the test results were."

"When you're shacked up with my sister, I make it my business," Teagan said. "Considering the way you're reacting, I know I'm right." Will sighed as he twisted the knob of his door, choking back his words. He was going to tell her that she lived under his roof, too, but there seemed no point. "She deservers better than a Mutie like you, anyway."

He spun around with a booming shout that flung Teagan into the far wall. Will cursed himself for unwillingly using his power, but he was ready to do it again. "You're a Mutie, too, you know."

She put her hand up, igniting in the transition, and sent a jet of flame his way. "That's how I know you don't deserve her, freak."

The fight would probably have continued if Mackenzie didn't open the door right then, but she did, pulling Will out of the way. "Quit fighting you two!" Teagan stuck her tongue out at Will as he shut the door. "Bad news, then?" she asked, looking slightly depressed. That made her the only one in the apartment who didn't have a mutated gene in their body.

Will frowned, fingering the small black box in his pocket. How could he tell her that he was a freak and she wasn't; that he was different, and she wasn't? He looked into her face, he sweet, delicate face, framed in short almost blonde, almost brunette hair and nodded.

Mackenzie's blue eyes drooped a little. "I knew it." She nodded her own head, tears coming out of her eyes. "How the hell am I supposed to keep the two of you from killing each other?"

Will shrugged, waiting for the impending shout fest to begin, but it never came. Instead, she kissed his cheek and said it was about time he got home, and that he should take a nap. He sighed, knowing full well that a fight of another sort was about to take place, and that Mackenzie wanted him away as she reamed her sister. He plodded off to the bedroom, looking at the old laptop that lay on alone his desk.

If only he could sell on his books, then he could afford to separate the two. Teagan and Mackenzie fought constantly over him. Maybe, if he had money, Teagan would accept that he truly loved her sister.

He lay down on the bed, taking time only to kick off his shoes before crawling under the covers. It sickened him that his pillow smelled like the whiskey Mackenzie was trying to get him to quit drinking. Everybody had their vice. Teagan had putting Will down, and Mackenzie had her hack of a writer boyfriend. Will had alcohol, and they were trying to take it away. It was the only thing he didn't like about Mackenzie, but even then, he understood.

One day, he told himself as the voice started rising in the living room of his tiny two bedroom apartment, he was going to kick the bottle. Until then, he still had one under his pillow, which he pulled out now and downed more than a mouthful.

Claire Bennet

Toronto, Canada

They had been following the compass for hours now, taking the path south until they got to the edge of town and it still pointed south. That's when they had their argument. If the compass truly pointed to what she looked for, then Peter wasn't in Toronto, but Claire could feel that he was here in the city, and refused to give up. They returned to Michael's apartment to ask how the compass worked, but no one was there.

"I just want to find Peter!" Claire said, exasperated. The needle in the compass must have finally gotten the hint, because it started spinning, this time point northwest when it stopped.

"Well, it's not like we have any other leads," Smokey said, taking the compass and leading the way.

It took them to a residential neighbor hood, which they wandered around. As they moved, the needle seemed to pinpoint Peter's position, as it spun as they moved around. They followed it to one house in particular.

Claire sighed as it came into view. "That's it, I give up. He's not here, and the compass doesn't work." But when the door opened, and both Petrelli brother walked out onto the front lawn, Claire lost control. She took off at full speed, crying out 'Peter' as she ran.

He looked towards her and smiled, and Claire leapt up into his arms. When he set her down, Nathan hugged her. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Better question," Peter said. "How did you know I was here?"

Claire recounted her story starting with the strange man who told her to go to Toronto and ending with the compass pointing at the house. She turned to introduce them to Smokey, but he was gone, vanished.

Smokey

Toronto, Canada

"Now you see what I mean," Swan, also known as Katherine Walsh, said. She pointed to the paintings Peter had drawn of the storms tearing across the world.

"Angel needs to see this," Smokey said. "This could be the one thing he always feared."

"Yeah, he's on his way with Sparky. Wyrm is on his way back, taking time not to get caught this time by either Prometheus or the Agency. The company is finally out of the way." Kate took a deep breath. "The next logical step is Vann."

"You don't think we could possibly get him out of there, do you?" Kate shrugged. There was little else to say.

Heidi Petrelli

New York, New York

Where the hell was Nathan, anyway, she thought as she poured drinks for his Japanese visitors. She'd been given Hiro's name, and she felt a tension like never before. She may not have a true-blue ability, but she did have a talent for sniffing out trouble. Something big was going on.

She was about to take the drinks into the parlor when a hand wrapped around her mouth and pulled her back. "Say one word, and I'll fry you right here where you stand," a gruff, male voice said into her ear. "Now, where is Nathan Petrelli? I have a gift for him, courtesy of the Prometheus Group."

Peter Petrelli

Toronto, Canda

He felt sick to his stomach. This was beginning to look a bit too much like the painting he just drew, and he still wore the power negating bracelet. Sure, he could still use the painting one and the invisibility, but he couldn't absorb new powers. He had to do something to stop this from happening.

Peter looked at Nathan, still hugging Claire, who was kept between them. Peter spun around, taking it all in. Kate and the gray-haired youth he was sure was Smokey were trying to sneak away, some distance away. A glare of the sun nearly blinded him from a tall building about a hundred yards away.

Worst of all, the shadowy figure was there, behind the neighbor's house. Well, it was more of a shadow falling on the ground from around the corner, but it was still there.

"Look what we have here," a man said, stepping onto Kate's lawn, freezing everyone in their tracks. Peter turned slowly, knowing what he would see and not wanting to.

The Stranger was tall, with a crop of white hair on his head. His face was so very pale; he could be mistaken for a ghost. He stood there, glaring at them like a cowboy ready for a showdown. He was dressed in a long black coat, with black leather gloves.

"Welcome to the party, Peter Petrelli," the man said. "I'm sure you recognize us. Our face surely rings a tiny little alarm in your brain, but it was nearly four months ago that we shared the cell next to you. So, allow us to reintroduce ourselves to you. You may call us Legion, and know this; we are many."