Chapter 3: Vivacity

Sylar had been talking non-sense. How could Noah have possibly touched anything if he was still strapped into the seat? He hoped the man of the future was talking rubbish as far as his time scales were concerned as well as the old man hardly thought he could manage a few days in his current position. At least he could clench his thirst with the pouch his travel companion gave him.

The water did not taste like any water he had ever tried before and after careful consideration and reading the inscription on the pack, most of which he had no idea what it meant, he had to conclude however that the pouch was actually not water per se, but a form of nutritional drink, that filled him up quickly and satisfyingly and made him so comfortable and at ease that he had possibly fell asleep himself, unperturbed by his current circumstances.

Noah had absolutely no prior warning to the doors opening to his side, he had no idea if and when the vessel slowed, stopped, came into contact with anyone. So he looked rather helpless and prisonerlike and dependent and everything he would've never wanted to, when the intruder stepped in.

The two men, the one standing in the entrance way and the one tied to the chair did not recognize each other, at least not at first. To the intruder's defence, he only took one glance at the trapped elderly and quickly establishing the old one was of no consequence for the time being, he rushed over to Sylar and very primitivelike for the era, he checked his forehead and his pulse, making the ability collector stir. "You can sleep it off, I just need your kinetic quickening. You're trailing almost the entire Shranriat flotilla behind you if you haven't noticed," the grey haired man said dynamically, with amused undertones.

Sylar offered his hand and the two shared a handshake, cordial and brotherly, clutching fingers, rather than the brief, formal touch of palms. At the same time, a fleeting glow passed between them. The handshake developed into a grip as Sylar pulled himself up into a sitting position taking advantage of the other man's strength, where he remained arched and ready for action, but resting till his assistance was necessary.

Claire's immediate, disconcerted voice could be heard, although Noah wasn't sure where it came from, "Peter, you know I don't like it when you exchange your cell regeneration with anything! And it's not because you get a few minutes older each time you get rid of my power!" She protested, "is it really worth it?"

Peter looked up, "what's the worse that could happen to me with two immortals around? I can take the one right ability back any time."

"I'm not around yet," the eternally girl reminded him, "but I will be, once I set this craft to self destruct when the Shranriat are close enough to be affected. Claire out."

"Peter Petrelli? Is that you?" The bound man wondered. Although he had heard his daughter use that given name and he had seen ability replication at work, this Peter looked nothing like the young man he remembered as Angela's son. This person didn't have all that much hair, that grey too, he was slightly, but comfortably overweight and initially on first sight Noah judged him as not much younger than himself. Although if he thought about it, the shiny teeth, the newcomer's muscle tone and the hint of what was once handsome features was reminiscent of the determined and congenial person he once knew as Peter.

The questioned spaceman gave him a funny look and took stock of his clothes and the rest of his appearance. "Petrelli you say?" Sylar displayed a small smile behind him, waiting for his friend to come to his own conclusions.

"I haven't heard that name in centuries." The new arrival forgot about their pursuers for a moment, and knelt in front of Noah's chair to fold one of the seat's arms open, pulling a large, mirrorlike object out the side of it that he held in front of the man of the past. Words and letters came up on its screen, but it was again some language the ex agent didn't recognise.

"You really are Bennet," Peter shook his head and gave a whistle of appreciation, "you have some ancient disease none of the last few generations have heard of! And I can assure nowadays not just immortals like us have centuries long life spans!" He offered his hand to the old company man and shook the other's warmly. "Wait a minute, this will take longer than usual, cause the program has a little trouble treating twenty-first century illnesses without being given pointers. Nobody would have the need!" He touched the screen, making a few different coloured light come out from the mirror, that reflected on Noah's body. "That's it, you're not a dying man anymore. There's no reason why you shouldn't go on for another hundred years or so."

Sylar grunted with the prospect of having his old arch enemy around for god knows how long and would've commented if their spacecraft would've not started to be shaking with a renewed attack. "Would it not be better to take your Glider?" He finally asked, referring to the vessel Peter and Claire arrived with, forced to return to more pressing matters.

"Oh, the Glider exploded last year," Peter let him know offhandedly, leaving Noah where he was tied up and taking his place at the controls as if he would've forgotten the time traveller's existence. "The shuttle we came in is too little for all of us. You will just have to keep this dinghy in one piece. Do you think you can control particle fusion?"

The answer could be assumed from Sylar's nod, but could not be heard as Claire burst in, the door sizzling shut red and searing behind her. "I'll give you into trouble later," she grunted towards Sylar, but she did not have any time to assess his condition, let alone consider anything else in the room as urgent action of getting themselves out of line of fire was necessary. She took her place beside Peter at the helm and the three evolved humans started working together and in unison as a well oiled mechanism themselves in such a swift manner as some automatic algorithm.

Tbc