*author's note: There is a lot of info to take in during this chapter, but I am headed for the finish line. The next chapter will be the second to last, then I will end this one and start a sequel. I'm thinking of calling the sequel Six Years Later. What do you think I should call it?*
Five Years Later: Chapter Eleven
By the time they touch down in Havana, Cuba, it is nearly midnight. Peter and Stephanie lead them through the crowd of locals on the street who are busy enjoying their nightlife, laughing and drinking outside of the clubs and bars. From within the ramshackle buildings, music plays all around them. The rhythmic beat is intoxicating, and Gretchen and Claire cannot help but smile at one another like giddy school girls, even as the whole world seems to be crashing in around them.
As the crowd thins, Peter leads them away from the hustle and bustle of this small ghetto section of Havana and towards the beach. Here they are alone, and Gretchen takes Claire's hand as they walk side by side.
"Our place is just around this bend," explains Peter. "It's not much, but ... it's private."
He trudges ahead, Stephanie hurrying to catch up, and the Haitian not far behind them. Claire takes her time, however, swinging arms with Gretchen happily, and omitting a pleasant sigh. The moon is full tonight, and it's reflection sparkles across the waves like pixie-dust. Looking at it now, it is very hard to imagine that they just narrowly escaped a life or death situation. Life suddenly seems so full of possibility now. Could it be too much to hope for ... that danger might just leave her alone ... forever?
"Peter hasn't said much," Gretchen finally says, breaking the silence. "Do you think he's angry you asked him to meet you?"
Claire rolls her eyes, letting out a dismissive laugh. "Don't worry about Pete," she promises. "He's just naturally high-strung."
"Uh, huh," nods Gretchen, still feeling unsure.
"Come on!" exclaims Claire with a giggle, letting go of her hand. "I'll race you!"
Claire runs ahead, still giggling, but Gretchen hesitates, taking a deep breath.
Noticing her absence, Claire stops and looks back. "Come on, slow poke!" she yells back with a smile. "First one to Peter's house gets a prize!"
Gretchen laughs, and suddenly feels all the weight of the day slip from her shoulders. "What kind of prize?" she calls back to Claire.
Claire gives her a lascivious grin, raising one eyebrow suggestively. "You'll have to catch me to find out!" she tells her.
Claire takes off again in another flurry of giggles, and Gretchen finally runs after her, intent on at least finding out what she would have won ... if there were actually a chance in hell that she could beat Claire in a foot race.
Coming around the bend that Peter described, Claire slows down and looks up in awe. In front of her is a seaside cliff, jutting up seemingly out of nowhere, and Peter is standing at the bottom beside a long staircase, which follows the cliff all the way up. At the top of this staircase is a cottage, small and round, but isolated and beautiful on the top of the cliff.
Gretchen follows Claire to where Peter is waiting alone, having sent the other two up the stairs ahead of them. He is standing with his arms folded tightly across his chest, a stern and disappointed expression on his face. He locks eyes with Claire and steps in front of her, blocking her way to the stairs.
"Not yet," he tells her. "We've got some talking to do. Gretchen, would you mind going on up and letting Stephanie get you settled in? I promise this won't take long."
Gretchen swallows hard, his coldness unsettling to her finally relaxed nerves. "Of course," she manages to choke out. "I'll just ... yeah ..."
She leaves Claire and Peter alone in their silent stare-down and begins her long walk up the stairs towards the cottage. Behind her, she hears heated whispers beginning to be exchanged ... but she can hear nothing of what's being said.
"Why in the world would you ever risk leaving Hiro's side?" hisses Peter as soon as Gretchen has started up the stairs. "That was foolish, Claire! Just like the robberies. I've warned you not to be so damn impulsive!"
"What else was I supposed to do?" asks Claire, folding her arms as well, and matching his expression to a tee. "I couldn't just stay in the past hiding forever, Pete! I had to know what the hell was going on and stop it ... before all of our kind goes the way of the dinosaur!"
"No one is going extinct, here, Claire," he corrects. "That's not the danger. Don't you get it? I told you to stay with Hiro for a reason! Because the greatest danger of all is to you, Claire! You!"
"We are all in danger, Pete," she insists. "Look, I don't know where you've been the last two years, but ..."
"You want to know where I've been?" he asks, walking away from her a few steps towards the beach. "I've been out trying to protect you. Trying to find out as much as I could about the government's plans. Developing a network of other evolves, to work together to uncover information. ... Claire, this is a lot more complicated than we originally thought. There's a lot we didn't know. And I had planned to tell you ... soon. But ... I never imagined you would pull a stunt like this! If I had thought for one second that you might leave the protection of Hiro's side, I would have told you immediately."
"Told me what?" Claire demands to know, unfolding her arms to follow him.
Peter walks on, shaking his head. "You have no idea what you've risked by coming here," he tells her as she catches up. "But ... I guess that's really my fault for not telling you everything sooner."
"How about you tell me everything now?" replies Claire, giving him a look of impatience.
"Claire ... we've got to find Hiro and get you out of the present before they find you again," he insists. "It's you they're looking for ... don't you get it yet? They don't want us anymore. The game is changing. Look at the bomb that they left in Angela's car ... that was for you, not for Angela. If they had wanted Angela, they would have taken her by now."
Claire swallows hard. "They planted the bomb before Angela gave me the car," she breathes out with sudden realization. "Which means ... they knew where Angela was all along."
"And, they didn't take her off to become part of some evolve army," adds Peter with emphasis. "They only used her to get to you. They aren't interested in building an army anymore. They want an army of one now ... and, that army is you, Claire!"
Claire laughs disbelievingly. "Why would I be considered an army of one, Pete?" she asks, raising her brow. "I'm just a healer who happens to know some kick-ass karate moves. I'm hardly the brand of weapon you are, for instance."
Peter stops walking suddenly and takes hold of her arm, turning her to face him. The look in his eyes is one of warning and fear.
"Actually," he says, "it's not exactly you they want ... it's your child."
Claire laughs again. "Well, now I know you're going crazy," she tells him, "because I don't have a child, Pete. Look around. Do you see any rug-rats hanging around?"
"You don't have a child yet," he corrects, still holding tight to her arm. "But ... you will, Claire. And he will have the most powerful ability anyone's ever seen ..."
Claire jerks her arm away and takes a big step back, a sudden look of horror on her face.
*****************
Gretchen enters the cottage and sees Stephanie in the small kitchen, pouring two cups of tea. She smiles at Gretchen, who is standing idly just inside the front door, and gestures for her to come up the small landing to join her. Gretchen steps up shyly and takes a seat at the bar. Stephanie takes the stool across from her and slides a cup of tea her way, taking the other for herself.
Her smile is warm and infectious, and Gretchen smiles back despite her growing feeling of dread, which began the moment Peter sent her upstairs alone.
"Where is Rene?" asks Gretchen, looking around the open room for signs of the Haitian.
"Taking a shower," explains Stephanie, sipping at her tea. "Would you like to see your room?"
"I'd rather wait for Claire ... if that's okay."
"Of course," says Stephanie. "Whatever you'd like. I'm sure it can't be very comfortable for you ... being in a strange place with strange people. Peter really should have waited to have his talk with Claire until morning."
Gretchen bites down on her bottom lip, working up the courage to ask the burning question on her mind. "Wha ... What exactly are they talking about ... do you know?"
Stephanie takes a deep breath and sits up straighter, cradling the small china cup in her hands as if for warmth. "I have a pretty good idea," she tells her. "But ... it's probably not my business to say. I should let Claire share that with you when she returns."
"Okay," says Gretchen, feeling even more uneasy than she had a second ago. "Can you give me a hint? Is he angry because she brought me here?"
Stephanie smiles reassuringly. "No," she promises. "It's got nothing to do with you. He's only worried about his niece, just as he always is. He feels it's his duty to watch out for her. Please, try not to worry. I'm sure everything's going to be just fine."
Gretchen looks her over, studying her for obvious tells, as a poker player would his opponent. "Is Claire in danger here?"
"Isn't Claire always in danger?" she replies.
"I thought she was safe with Peter." Gretchen says, feeling that queasiness return to her stomach. She hasn't eaten since breakfast, she suddenly realizes. And all this stress is beginning to take it's toll.
"She's as safe as she can be," answers Stephanie, still shrouding the truth from her.
Gretchen takes a deep breath and exhales with frustration, saying, "Look ... I've had a really long day, and I know I shouldn't be taking it out on you, but ... what the hell is going on here? If Claire is in more danger, then I want to know about it! NOW!"
Stephanie's face falls, her doomed expression matching that of the one Peter had on the beach. "She's in more danger now than ever, I'm afraid," she finally tells Gretchen.
Gretchen closes her eyes tight, a feeling of dread overtaking her senses.
In an effort to console her, Stephanie reaches out a hand and takes Gretchen's in her own, giving it a squeeze. "You have to trust Peter," she says to Gretchen softly. "He will do everything in his power to keep Claire safe."
"I don't even know Peter," Gretchen reminds her, opening her eyes again, and taking back her hand. "All I know is that I finally found the life that I want, and now I'm afraid it's just going to slip right out of my hand again."
*******************
"I can't have a child, Peter," Claire claims, her eyes still wide with terror. "I'm a lesbian ... remember? It kind of takes sperm to make a baby."
"They've already got that ingredient," Peter tells her with all seriousness. "The perfect sperm for your perfect eggs. It's all been arranged. All they need is you, Claire."
"But ... can I even carry a child?" she asks, turning away from him, a hand protectively covering her flat stomach. She looks out at the waves as they wash over the shore and tries desperately to look into the future herself, but sees nothing but her own fears. If only she were a painter instead of a healer ... things would be so much easier.
"I don't know if your body would hold a pregnancy," he admits. "But, it really doesn't matter, Claire. They've been breeding evolves for years already. They have incubators ... surrogates. All kinds of ways of getting around an uncooperative womb. They won't let anything stop them. The only way to stop them is by making sure you never get captured in the first place."
"How do they know my child will be ... powerful?" she asks, as if she doesn't already have a clue. "... How do you?"
"Painters ... of course," he replies simply. "They're like a dime a dozen these days. I have one working for me, and so do they. Both our sources see the same vision."
"How do you know what their painter sees?" she continues to question.
"I have a double agent, working inside their organization," he explains. "An evolve, with a power similar to Matt Parkman's. He tells me everything he can of what their painter sees ... and, I'm sorry, Claire ... but, it's the same vision ours is seeing."
She turns back around to face him, her hands stuffed deep in the pockets of her shorts. "What's the vision? Please ... I have to know."
He takes a deep breath and shuffles his feet, looking as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. "In the future, your son will be raised by this ... government force ... and he will be taught to use his power against our kind, and erase us entirely."
Claire takes a step back, closing her eyes tight against this truth. "Why me, Pete? Did the visions tell you that? Why am I the one that has to give birth to this ... spawn of Satan? "
"I don't know," he says with a sigh. "I'm not even sure what your son's ability will be. I only know that they want him to be born ... at all costs."
Claire opens her eyes again and stares him down, her panic turning into a desperate need for preparedness. "What else have you found out that you haven't told me yet?"
Peter returns her stare, warning in his deep brown eyes. "I know how the government got involved in this again, and it wasn't just Noah's files. They have an evolve leader ... of sorts. A woman who hates her own kind so much, she went out of her way to start a war against us. And, Claire ... this may come as kind of a shock to you, because ... well ... we kind of all thought she was dead."
"What are you saying?" Claire asks, stepping forward again. "That I know this person you're talking about?"
"You did ... once," Peter explains, his voice soft and hesitant. "It's Elle, Claire. Elle Bishop. She's alive ... and she wants revenge on us all."
Gretchen couldn't get any further information out of Stephanie. So, she finally gave up and asked politely to be shown her room, which she discovered was not so small as she would have imagined from looking at the cottage from below earlier.
The room is open and spacious, and has a large set of double doors that lead out to a patio facing the ocean below. Gretchen opens these at once upon being left alone, and takes a deep breath of the fresh sea air. She stands there at the open doors for quite a while, telling herself that Claire will be popping her head inside any moment now. But ... when that moment continues to grow longer and longer, she turns back around and begins peering around the room for something to busy herself with.
She finds that the room is scattered with candles, and decides to search for some way of lighting them.
After feeling around inside a desk drawer, she finds a lighter, and proceeds to move from candle to candle around the room, lighting each and every one, thinking that this will make for a more relaxing environment for Claire to return to. The task calms her as well, and she feels better once she's completed it. She takes a step back and regards the glowing room with pride in a job well done.
She can't do much for Claire right now, given her lack of information, but ... she could at least do this. And, looking things over again, with the candlelight shining softly upon the large canopied bed in the center of the room, she suddenly realizes this wasn't just for Claire. It was for both of them. After all that had already happened today, this was the least they deserved.
She sits on the end of this bed and sighs, crossing her legs impatiently. Now ... if only Claire would walk through that door.
*******************
"Elle?" Claire asks Peter, her eyes wide. "But ... how is that possible? My dad told me that Sylar killed her."
"He did," Peter agrees, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "... Claire, look ... there's a lot Noah didn't tell you. I know it isn't fair, but ... he was only trying to protect you from things."
"Like the fact that Elle was alive?" she asks. "What else didn't my dad tell me?"
"Well ... he also didn't tell you that it was your blood that he used to heal her," Peter says.
"What do you mean ... used to heal her?"
"He thought she might be of use to us," Peter explains. "In our fight against Sylar. She knew things about him that we didn't. Things we might have been able to use against him."
"So ... he just took my blood without telling me ... and used it to heal Elle?"
"He thought it was the right thing to do ... at the time," continues Peter in Noah's defense. "He had no way of knowing that she would run from us. And, he certainly had no way of knowing that she would turn against us the way she did. In fact, I'm not even sure he knew that she had. We all assumed that she had disappeared to hide from us ... not to turn us over to the government."
Claire shakes her head and prepares to run past him, back towards the stairs to the cottage. Peter grabs her arm and pulls her back.
"Claire ... wait," he says.
"No," says she firmly, pulling her arm away. "Just ... let me go, Peter. I have to think about this. Don't you get it?"
"Don't you, Claire?" he asks, raising his brows. "We have to find Hiro and get you and Gretchen the hell out of here ... before Elle comes looking for you herself!"
"You think I'm afraid of Elle?" she asks disbelievingly. "I've tangoed with Miss shooting sparks before, Peter ... remember? There's nothing she can do to me that she hasn't tried already."
"She's a lot more powerful now," he tells her. "She's evolved, the same as you have ... and, she has a lot of friends. Friends with all kinds of abilities."
"So we'll deal with it," says she, stubborn as ever, "in the morning. Right now, it's late, and I have a gorgeous woman waiting for me. She's been waiting five years already, Pete. I'm not making her wait any longer."
With that, Claire turns and makes her way towards the stairs, her shoulders slumped, and her head still shaking in shock.
Peter stays on the beach and watches on, his own head shaking as well. For once, he wishes Claire had not inherited his family's stubborn streak. Had she been Noah's biological child, she would be safe right now. Normal, mortal, and safe.
*to be continued ...*
