Will Stone

New York, New York

He left the others at the hotel, leaving some excuse. He didn't even remember which one he gave. He'd been too focused on getting to the place where it all started; Kirby Plaza.

If Seattle was bad, New York was worse. Everywhere he looked, he saw distrustful eyes looking away from everyone else. Fear ran course through the throbbing mass of people. They must have been tourists trying to fit in, because Will had always heard that the citizens of the city where more than willing to fight back, do something stupid and brave. It was their city, after all, and they should be able to fight for it.

By noon, he stood in Kirby Plaza, exactly where Peter Petrelli once stood, loosing control and starting to build his own cache of radioactivity, turning himself into an atom bomb. There was a sense of pride here, a pride of coming together to save the world. Peter had thought himself a hero, trying to save the world from Sylar, but in the end, it was Peter who exploded.

Will was humbled before the emotions that swept him. This was his life's work, and the progenitor of the first-final stand against Sylar, the so-far ultimate villain. Will only wished he could have been here to help.

Few people looked twice at Kirby Plaza, even though there were a number of people moving in and out of the building. Will thought everyone who did glance this way had a question about some unexplainable aspect of their life, just like he once did, and were afraid to seek the answer here.

He wanted to shout them that the answers weren't always as bad as you thought; that it was okay to be different, but he didn't. Instead he just sat at the on the fountain, taking in the atmosphere of where it all started.

Claire Bennet

New York, New York

It was a sense of déjà vu that washed over her as she exited the airport. Once before, she came here looking for someone and it ended up horribly. The entire city was almost destroyed and she thought she'd lost the first connection she'd made with anyone sense she found out about herself. The feeling nearly crippled her with fear and dread.

Claire forced it down. There wasn't a killer on the loose anymore. Peter was getting control of his powers. Everything was alright. Using the airport's Wi-Fi, she sent a message to Shade, telling him she'd meet him later that week at the Hart Center.

As she left climbed into a waiting cab, she thought of calling Nathan or Peter, but both were too busy doing other things to bother with her. The person she called she didn't think she ever would. What did she have in common with Heidi Petrelli?
When she answered, Claire's throat threatened to seize. Something bad was going on, she could feel it. Something evil.

"Claire, are you there?" Heidi asked, concern obvious in her voice.

"Yeah," Claire said. "A goose just walked over my grave, gave me the chills."

"How are you doing?" Heidi asked. Claire knew what she meant. How was she doing now that her dad was dead?

"Okay, I suppose. Look, I'm back in New York."

"Nathan told me you weren't coming back."

"Yeah, I don't want him to know, either," Claire said, hoping Heidi would understand. "I just want to be by myself, get everything together, you know?"

"And you need a place to stay?" Heidi asked, gathering it rather quickly. "I know just the place."

Peter Petrelli

Kirby Plaza, New York

He took a spot off the plaza, so he could see the place were everything went to hell. It hadn't changed much since he last saw it. Pete felt incredibly afraid, thinking that something bad was going to happen. It worse than the explosion. Since he left Heidi in his apartment, he'd broken out in a cold sweat. He was getting sick, just like he did in Odessa, where he first meet with Sylar.

He couldn't do this alone, like he'd said to Heidi. He looked around the plaza, hoping to find someone who could help him, not knowing anyone, or if they could even do anything.

Pete spotted one person, sitting on the fountain. Dark brown hair overhanging his face, rip in his pants; to Pete, he looked like he was searching for something. He walked over to the kid and sat down next to him. The kid's eyes went wide. "Peter Petrelli," he said in reverence.

Peter nodded. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of hero. I'm not."

"That's bull and you know it," the kid said. "You made it okay to say this is what I am. You the reason I'm here. I'm lost, and I can't find my home, whatever that it."

"I can't help you find home, not when I don't know you."

"My name is William Stone," he recited, sounding like a man at an AA meeting, "and I am a mutant. The problem is, I have no idea where to go from here."

"How do you feel about fighting?" Pete asked, thinking this was easier than pie. This kid wanted to help, wanted to fight, wanted to prove something to someone.

"Just tell me who and why, and I'm there," Will said. "I've already faced a number of gang members, and I fought against a nut-job named Legion."

Wait, "What? You fought Legion?" Pete asked, his turn to speak in reverence. Anyone who could survive a fight against that monster could easily help him out against Prometheus.

"I had help, but yes, I did," Will said proudly. "If I get the chance, I'd do it again. This time, I'd end the whole damn thing once and for all." Pete saw a flash of hate in the kid's eyes and wondered if it was such a good idea to use this kid. Will wanted to be used though, Pete told himself.

"How about a few of the people that pull Legion's strings?"

"You can't be serious," Will said. "Let me get this straight. You want me to help you take out a bunch of super-powered freaks?" Pete nodded. "Let's go, man!"

Mackenzie Wilkes

New York, New York

The hotel room was small and filled with half-hearted paintings of place she would never see, and judging from the way they were painted, never wanted to see. She sat on one of the beds in the room, listening to the water run in the shower.

Her mind turned to Will, off on another one of his little trips. She prayed it didn't involve a trip to the local liquor store. There were three of them in walking distance of the hotel that she saw, probably more. This part of New York was worse than Seattle. They must have passed three or four obvious drug-dealers on their way here. It was the one's she couldn't spot that scared her.

Mackenzie leapt when the phone rang. She stared at it, hoping whoever it was would hang-up. No one knew they were hear, so whoever they were trying to reach was gone. Then, she remembered Will, and lunged for it, but it stopped ringing. Damn it! She hated being away from their place in Seattle. There was too much to be afraid off.

The phone rang again, and Mackenzie ripped it off the cradle. "Will," she said.

"Sorry, this is the front desk. We have a message here for you from, well, Will Stone," the clerk said. "It says he met Peter Petrelli and the two of them are leaving to take on the word, that he'll be back as soon as he can."

"Thank you," Mackenzie said before hanging up.

Teagan came out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. "Was that Will?" she asked. Mackenzie shook her head, not wanting to give her sister another reason to hate him. Teagan stretched out on the other bed. "Well, let me know when he calls. He said he would, if was going to be out for a while." Then, drifting off to sleep, she added. "He's not such a bad guy."

Mackenzie wanted to cry. For the first time ever, Teagan didn't bad mouth her boyfriend, and she wanted her to. Will once again left her alone to fend for herself while he's off doing God knows what till God knows when. This crap had to stop if they were ever going to have a future together.

She flipped open his suitcase to search for bottles, something she did whenever he was gone for more than an hour. Patting things down, she felt something in one of his pockets and couldn't identify it. She pulled it out, her mouth falling open, and she nearly dropped it.

The small, velvety black box bounced lightly on the bed. Mackenzie knew what it was without opening it. She knew inside, she'd find a small, elegant ring fitted to her left hand ring finger. She knew what he meant to tell, and it felt like the world opened up at her feet. At any minute she would fall. She waited.

A knock came at the door, scaring her. She shoved the box back into his pants pocket and slammed the lid of the suitcase so loudly, Teagan shot up, looking for whatever had caused the noise.

The door pushed open, and Gavin came in carrying several bags with a familiar arch on them. "I got lunch, if anyone's interested," he said, with a sweet little smile. Mackenzie nodded, even though she wasn't very hungry anymore, and returned his smile.

Will Stone

New York, New York

The world is so different when you're walking down the street with your hero. Will walked taller than he had since Mackenzie first agreed to go out with him. He looked over at Peter, and was worried though. How were they supposed to take out an organization when he was obviously sick.

"Are you okay, man?" Will asked. "You don't look so good."

Pete nodded, but then he stumbled. His eyes rolled up into the back off his head. He collapsed and started convulsing. People around them started to scream and panic, as white foam came pouring out of Peter's mouth.

From the crowd came a familiar face framed in blonde hair. "Lift his head," she ordered, crouching down next to him. She held him tightly, making sure he didn't swing around and hurt himself.

"Claire, what are you doing here?"

"Now is not the time to talk about that," she barked. "All I want you to do is save my Uncle."

Will lifted Peter's head up, tilting it slightly to the side. All the while, he stared disbelieving at Claire. His mind raced back to the reports of the explosion. There had been someone named Claire mentioned, barely. "Holy…"

Peter Petrelli

Location Unknown

He was about to tell Will that he was fine, then he'd fallen. That much he knew. As to where he was now, there was no was to tell.

The sky was filled with black clouds, arcs of pure blue energy streaking between them, them and earth, and everywhere to everywhere. The ground itself shook with such ferocity that he could barely stand. Tornados stretched from the clouds, reaching for the ground. There was no sound.

Before him, he saw Nathan. He was saying something to Peter, but Pete couldn't hear him. Behind Nathan, Jon stood, surrounded by arcs of energy. It was flooding him; Pete could feel it's reach from where he stood.

Nathan flew away from Pete, grabbing Jon, taking him into the sky. Pete wondered how anyone could stand to be so close to that surge. The world went black.