HEROES: Duality p4 - Resolutions
Disclaimer: I own nuttink!
Notes: Having written the bulk of "Darkness" before s3 played out, I found the show went in a different direction than I thought it would. I eventually figured out where my story and the show canon really diverged. Here's what happened in my AU, and it's all Matt's fault, as usual. (sorry, Grunny!)
Pinehearst and PrimaTech have been given government sanction. The President is readying to announce the existence of "Specials" to the world. Meanwhile, Sylar has found his true father and now searches to find his destiny as a new drug has begun hitting the streets....
-
Costa Verde, CA - The Bennet house, 12:30 pm
"I'll go in and get Lyle to help with the groceries," Sandra informed her husband.
"You know, it's the little things like this I missed out on, didn't I?" Noah asked as he followed her to the front door, arms laden with food.
"I wonder what's got Mr. Muggles all excited?" she asked him as she reached for the door. They could hear his agitated bark racing from the front entry back to the living room. "Lyle? What did I tell you about throwing the ball for Mr. Muggles in the house?" she asked as she stepped inside.
The couple walked in to see the Pomeranian following his favorite tennis ball, nipping at it as it hung a foot over his head, dancing back and forth.
"What in--?" Sandra started, but found Noah charging past her, having dropped the bags he was carrying and reaching in his jacket for his gun.
"Sylar!" he growled. "Sandra, get out, call for help!"
She did as she was told, backing out the door and fumbling in her purse for her cell.
Mr. Muggles had caught the ball in his mouth and raced back into the living room. Noah followed cautiously and drew his gun on the man sitting on the couch.
"What the HELL do you think you're doing here?" he demanded.
Sylar glanced up from the excited ball of fur in his lap. "Playing catch?"
Noah took a step forward.
"Don't worry, I would never hurt Mr. Muggles," he said calmly, petting the dog's thick fur and removing the ball from his mouth. "I think he likes me." He tossed the ball to the side and Mr. Muggles dove after it.
Noah wasn't deterred. "Get the hell out."
"Or what, you're going to shoot me?" he asked. "You remember how that went last time, don't you?" He glanced down as Mr. Muggles jumped back into his lap with the ball. "Besides, I think the wife and kids might be upset if you hurt the poor, innocent puppy, here." He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at Bennet. "Don't you?"
"What do you want?" Noah growled.
"I just wanted to see Claire, nothing more," he said as he glanced toward the door. Noah heard Sandra cry out in surprise as her phone suddenly flew out of her hands and into the yard. "Just to talk, nothing more."
"You leave my daughter alone," Noah snarled, trigger finger twitching.
Sylar slowly rose, holding Mr. Muggles. "I just wanted to apologize," he said. "For all the--" he paused, searching for the word, "--trauma I've caused her of late."
This took Noah off guard. "What?"
Sylar turned and set Mr. Muggles down on the couch, where he yipped in frustration realizing his new friend was done playing. "Let's just say, I did some soul searching, and I want to make amends."
"Why don't I believe you?"
Sylar let out a half-chuckle. "I've been used and played my whole life, it seems," he explained. "You remember, don't you Noah? When you and Elle tricked me into killing that kid, Trevor?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Noah said.
"That's a lie." Sylar's mouth twisted in a half-smirk. "She should have let me hang. It would have saved a lot of people a lot of misery. Ask that little girl of Mohinder's. Molly, isn't it? I guess I owe her an apology, too."
"Keep the hell away from her or--"
"I have no intention of hurting her, either, Noah," he said. "You see, I know now what it's like to lose someone you love, perhaps the only one who truly loved me when I was just a means to an end for everyone else. A weapon. A tool. Something to be bought and sold."
"What are you talking about?"
"I met my father," he said. "My real father, not the man who abandoned me and my mother. That was my uncle, it turns out. My real father was like me, too."
Noah grimaced.
"Did you know him?" Sylar asked. "He hunted down people with abilities, too. Killed them like I did just to take their powers. I guess the apple didn't fall too far from the tree in my family, did it? Makes me wonder how your young son is going to turn out. Larry, isn't it?"
"Lyle," Noah corrected him through gritted teeth.
"Lyle, hm," Sylar noted with a tilt of his head. He took a step toward Noah. "Do you remember what I wrote on the wall in my apartment? 'Forgive me'. That's all I really ever wanted," he explained. "But you couldn't let me have that, could you?"
"Get the hell out of my house," Noah said again.
"That's all I ever wanted, forgiveness," Sylar repeated. "I realize now, I have to forgive myself before others can forgive me. That's why I came here, to apologize to Claire."
"So you said. She's not here," Noah said. "Now get the hell out."
Sylar mused at him. "You don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"When we worked together? When Angela gave me a chance to redeem myself as her son? I was happy," he explained. "I found a new path laid out before me. But you, you couldn't let me change. All you saw was a killer."
"That's all you are."
"That's what you made me."
"You had already killed before we found you."
"Ah, yes," Sylar mused. "Brian Davis. He didn't want his ability, you know."
"So you killed him and took it."
"At the time, I thought he wasn't worthy of being special," he explained. "Sure, I could blame it on The Hunger my own ability gave me, but in the end, I became an addict. I craved knowledge, power, whatever you want to call it."
Noah glared at him sympathetically.
"Like I said, Angela gave me a chance to redeem myself," he explained. "But that was on her terms. I want another chance, but on my terms."
"Like hell," Noah spat.
"Lock me up, I'll just find another way to escape. It's not that hard to do," he chided. "I've done a lot of harm to a lot of people, and meeting my father has made me realize it's a wasted effort in the end."
"What are you talking about?"
"My father is dying of cancer. He made me realize that all this killing, all this mayhem, it accomplishes nothing in the end except misery. Sure, you can argue my actions have made others seem like heroes, but--" Sylar paused, remembering his father's words. "'All the power in the world doesn't matter, if you've lived an unsatisfied life.' That's what he said. That's what I've lived, an unsatisfied life."
"I'd just be satisfied if you died." Bennet countered.
"Noah, please," he chided. "There's no getting through to you, is there?"
"You're a liar and a killer, why should I believe any of this?"
Sylar sighed. "I knew I should have talked to Peter first. You want me to leave? Fine, I'm going, but think about what I said, Noah." He glanced back to the couch, "'Bye Mr. Muggles, I had fun playing with you, boy."
As he said this, Noah found his arms being forced upward, like a puppet, so his gun pointed at the ceiling. He briefly wondered if Sylar had taken Eric Doyle's power as the man casually strolled toward and out the door.
Sandra watched him exit from the safety of her car, ducking down in hopes he wouldn't see her. She watched him as he walked across the lawn, stopped and held out his hand for a second, then turned and strode to her. He tapped on the window. She jumped in fright.
"You dropped something," he said and held up her cell phone. He waited for a moment for her to roll down the window. When she didn't, he simply placed the phone on top of the car and walked away. Noah came running out of the house a minute later.
"Where did he go?" he asked, running up to the car.
"I-I don't know," she replied, still trembling.
"Dammit!" he exclaimed and hit the roof of the car. The phone started to slide off, but he caught it before it could hit the concrete of the driveway.
"What-what did he want, Noah?" she asked as she got out.
"More mind games," he replied. "He claims he wanted to apologize to Claire and turn over a new leaf."
"Are you serious? Is he? After what he did to Claire and who knows how many others?"
Noah didn't answer. He honestly didn't know what to believe. He pulled out his own phone and punched in a number. "You'll never guess who I just got a visit from."
"Sylar?" came the voice on the other end.
"Yeah, and you better give your youngest a heads up, he said he should have talked to him, first."
"I understand," Angela replied. "I'm having dinner with my sons, tonight. Maybe I'll set an extra place?"
"He said he wanted another chance, and to apologize to Claire," Noah explained.
"So I did manage to get through to him, after all?"
"I'd advise against playing another mind game with him. He wanted to get his old job back it seems, but on his 'own terms'. Whatever he meant by that."
"Maybe he was right, he should have talked to Peter, first," she replied and hung up. She held the folded phone up to her chin and pondered this development. After a moment, she opened it and dialed another number. "Yes, it's Angela Petrelli. Tell me, are you free for dinner tonight? I need to discuss something with you and my boys. No, just you. Alright then, see you around seven? Yes, my place. Thank you."
She folded her phone closed again and glanced at the clock. Three hours was plenty of time to get ready. "Bea, we'll be expecting two more guests for dinner tonight," she informed the maid.
-
Petrelli Residence, 6:55 pm
Peter went to answer the door, surprised at who he found standing there. "Matt?"
"Hi, I heard there were cheap lap dances among other things to be found here?" he joked in his best lascivious voice.
Peter rolled his eyes and shook his friend's hand in greeting. "Yeah, Nathan's seeing another client right now, but he should be free in a few minutes," he joked back.
"No seriously, your mother asked me to dinner, said she had matters to discuss?" Matt explained. "She didn't really elaborate."
"Yeah, she's good at that," Peter replied, leading the way to the dining room.
Matt had never been inside Manse Petrelli before and was slightly taken aback by the luxury. "Is this a house or a museum? I've been in a few of the more glamorous Los Angeles domiciles and this one could give them a run for their money."
"I grew up here and I'm still not sure how to answer that, Matt," Peter replied with a smile.
"Janice's dad was a lawyer, too, and even for LA, his house was a bit more modest."
"Really?"
Yeah, and her mother could give Angela tips on how to stay frigid. Brr! he thought to his friend.
Peter laughed out loud.
"What's so funny, you two?" Angela asked, startling both men. Neither had noticed her sitting at the head of the table when they walked in. A shared smirk between the two men was all she needed to know. "I thought as much," she said coyly. "Where's Nathan?"
Stifling a laugh, Peter answered, "He was upstairs. Want me to get him?"
"Would you? I have to talk to Detective Parkman," she informed him. "Alone."
Peter gave her a questioning glance and left.
"Now then, sit, Detective," she ordered him. Matt did as he was told before he realized it. "Now then, how many times have you encountered this Sylar, Detective?"
Matt cringed at the name. "I've seen his handiwork a number of times, Mrs. Petrelli. Molly's parents were the first--"
"I asked you how many times you have come face to face with him, Detective, not how many crime scenes he has left for you."
Matt collected himself and continued, defaulting to 'cop mode'. "After Molly's parents were killed, he came after her in the station. Killed two good men and almost killed Agent Hanson, our new FBI liaison. I thought I had shot him, but he escaped." He paused before continuing. "The next time was in Kirby Plaza. He literally returned the four bullets I had shot at him, sending me to the hospital, while he somehow escaped."
"Any other occasions, Detective?"
"A few near misses, but no actual contact with him since Kirby, ma'am."
Angela mused over this information. "You barely seemed to control yourself when I mentioned him. Why is that?"
"Besides what he did to Molly and me? He's a killer, Mrs. Petrelli. A cop killer, even, and I'm a cop. It's my duty to--"
"What if I told you he briefly worked for me recently?"
"I'd say you need to change your hiring practices," he shot back. "Ma'am."
"At the time, I had a need for his, shall we say, talents?" she informed him. "The enemy of my enemy and all that."
"You mean you used him to get at your late husband?"
"That was one of the reasons, yes," she replied. "You're good, Detective. Very good."
"Are you trying to tell me you want me to track Sylar down?"
"Quite the opposite, Detective. He's coming here. Tonight."
Matt rose. "What? When were you planning on telling us? Do Nathan and Peter know?"
"We do now, Ma," Nathan said from the doorway behind Matt. "What are you playing at, now?"
"Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, dear" she replied with a smile.
"What's going on? How do you know Sylar is coming here?" Peter asked.
"Because he told Noah Bennet as much," she replied. The three men started.
"Is he okay?" Matt demanded to know.
"What about Claire?" the brothers echoed each other.
"Relax, Noah is fine, as is his wife. Neither Claire nor her brother were home."
"What about the dog?" Matt asked.
Angela sighed. "Yes, the dog is fine, too, Mr. Parkman." Nathan rolled his eyes, but Peter gave him a warm smile.
"Sorry," Matt apologized. "Ted almost hurt him when we, uh, never mind, shutting up now."
"When you two blew up his house?" Angela asked. Matt cringed and turned red in embarrassment. "As I was saying, Sylar is coming here, tonight. Noah claims he said he wanted to talk to Claire, but after a brief stand-off, he declared he should have talked to Peter first."
"Me?" Peter shouted. "Why me?"
"I don't know," she mused. "Perhaps you can ask him when he gets here? Right now, I'm famished. Do you want to eat while we can or wait until he shows up?"
The trio looked at each other before Nathan took the lead and sat down at his mother's right. Peter took the chair to her left and Matt beside Nathan. Pleased with their decision, Angela picked up a tiny bell at her side and rang it. The kitchen door opened a minute later and the maid brought out a tray of Beef Wellington and baked potatoes.
Matt was visibly uncomfortable with being waited on. Peter shot him a look and mentally said, Just go with the flow, Matt. Pretend you're in a restaurant.
Museum, restaurant, what next? he replied. Peter's reply almost made Matt choke on a bite of beef.
"You alright, Matt?" Nathan asked, clapping him on the back.
"Yeah, fine," Matt coughed as he shot Peter a dirty look. Peter raised his wine glass in salute.
"Are you boys quite done?" Angela asked, before taking a sip of her own wine.
Matt shot Peter another dirty look. "Yes, ma'am." The brothers snickered.
"Well, at least one of you can show some respect," she said icily. "Speaking of, don't you know how to knock?"
The three men seated around her all looked to her, but she was staring at the other end of the long table.
When they turned to follow her gaze, they sprang into action. Matt pulled his weapon, Peter's hands flared in energy, and Nathan jumped up to defend his mother.
"SIT DOWN!" she yelled. "All of you. Sit down, right now."
Sylar held his hands up as a show of good faith. "My bad. It seems I was expected, however."
Angela went back to her dinner, slicing another piece of meat. "Yes, Noah called immediately after you left. Please, sit, pull up a plate."
"I wondered why there were five settings," Nathan grumbled as he retook his seat.
"I don't like this," Matt said. "I don't like him."
"I didn't ask you if you liked it, Detective," Angela retorted before turning her attention to Sylar. "Now then, Gabriel, you had something to ask us?"
Sylar smiled at her use of his given name. "You gave me a chance to redeem myself once before, Mrs. Petrelli."
"Yes I did," she replied.
"Except you did it for reasons of deceit. You lied to me and used me to further your own agenda."
"I gave you a chance to see there was more to life than killing."
"And then it all came crashing down, much like your precious PrimaTech."
"It was just a building. The few people left inside were dead, anyway," she said casually.
"Meredith was in there," Nathan countered. "She was Claire's mother."
Angela opened her mouth to reply, but Sylar held up his hand. "That was my fault, Nathan, and I apologize," he said calmly. "To you and Claire. My rage over your mother's--and father's for that matter--deception drove me to try to teach a fatal lesson to Claire. For that, I apologize."
Nathan glared at the man, fists clenching. He suddenly found Matt's hand on his wrist. "He's telling the truth. He really is sorry for what he did," he said in disbelief.
"And I should apologize to you, Matt," he replied. "Then again, you were trying to kill me."
"You killed Ted Sprague, Molly's parents, you shot Maya--whoever the hell she is--right in front of Molly, and who knows how many others you've killed?" Matt said grimly. "You deceived Mohinder for how long? You used him to kill more people, and then almost killed him and Peter when they realized who you really were. You were willing to destroy New York City, even! I'm a cop. I'd just be doing my job to put a wild animal like you down."
Sylar sat there, taking in Matt's tirade. When he finished, he merely said, "Touché." Matt fumed. "I guess that means I owe Mohinder and young Molly an apology as well." He turned to Peter. "And what about you, Peter? What do you have against me?"
"Besides when you almost killed me?" Peter regarded him a minute. "We gave you one chance and you threw it back in our faces. Why should we trust you this time?"
Sylar smiled. "You're right. Why should you trust me? I was the one who was lied to and became a monster because of those lies. Twice over, that I know of." He cast a glance at Angela. "I don't blame any of you for your hatred of me. Why should I?"
The other three exchanged glances.
"The thing is," he continued, "the first time, I was brought in and forced to work with you--well, really just Noah--and it failed. I fell prey to my Hunger for knowledge and power. This time, I'm coming to you on my own terms. Like someone told me, how do you live with an unsatisfied life?"
More looks exchanged. Angela took another sip of wine.
"Thanks to Claire, I'm basically immortal now. Don't you think all the killing and bloodshed would get old after a few years?" he asked. "I realized I want more out of life. I used to help people, fix watches. I want to do something constructive again, not destructive. I am asking for another chance as a Company agent."
"No," Matt said flatly. "Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I'm going to trust you after what you've done to me and mine in the last year."
"Can I just say, if not for me, you wouldn't have Molly, right now?" Sylar countered. "You probably wouldn't even be involved in all this--" he waved his hand, "--crazy weirdness of a life, right now? In fact, they probably would have thrown you in a mental institution for 'hearing voices', you know."
The quartet exchanged more glances, a fuming Matt standing firm on his decision. The Company would have bailed you out if they had, Detective, Angela projected to Matt.
He gave her a questioning look. What did she mean by that?
It was Peter who finally broke the icy silence. "He does have a point."
"I know I do," Matt interjected. "The man's a killer and--"
"I was referring to Sy--Gabriel, here," Peter replied, catching himself. "He is asking to make amends for his past wrongs. I say we give him another chance. If anything, it's a better way to keep an eye on him. Mom, Nathan?"
"I told you, I'm not a part of the Company, this time," she said. "If you want advice on how to bring down a dangerous person, I will advise you, but that's it. This decision is up to you three, and we now have one vote either way. Gabriel has stated his case. It's up to you now, Nathan." She took another sip of wine. "Just remember, no fighting in the house."
Four pair of eyes focused on the former Congressman and junior Senator of New York.
"Sylar has caused a lot of damage in all our lives," he began. "Gabriel Gray tried to turn his life around once with the Company. He is correct in that he was deceived into doing so, but now wants to try again without any coercion. Is that correct, Mr. Gray?"
Sylar smiled. "Yes, Senator, that is correct."
"Would you agree to a probationary period, under constant supervision if we allowed you to work for us again?"
"You mean the same treatment as before? I basically live at PrimaTech, only going out on assignments, then right back to my quarters?"
"Pretty much, yeah," Nathan answered.
"Nathan, don't," Matt muttered under his breath, not caring that Sylar could hear him. "This is a big mistake."
"Is that what you say to someone who's served his time and tried to change his life around while in prison?" Nathan asked.
"He's never served time for his crimes, Nathan!" Matt protested.
Nathan mused his decision. "Think of this as a work release type program," Nathan explained. "If this works out, he gets some small freedoms back over a period of time." He looked directly at Sylar. "A very long period. If not, we lock you up and make you stand trial for murders you have readily admitted to us."
"Sounds fair to me," Gabriel replied.
"I can't sit here and take this," Matt said, standing up to leave. The others called after him to stop.
Much to his chagrin, he had to pass by Sylar to exit the room and the man grabbed his arm as he did. Matt drew back to punch him.
"Whoa! Hold on a second," Gabriel pleaded. "I don't expect your forgiveness right away. I'm just asking for a chance to make amends. To try and make some right after all the wrong I did."
"Get the hell away from me," Matt snarled, pulling his arm free. He stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.
"Should I--?" Gabriel asked the others, motioning after him.
"I'll go," Peter said and teleported outside. Angela harrumphed as she ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it from the gust of displaced air in his wake.
"Matt, wait up!" Peter called out, chasing after his friend.
"No, Peter!" he yelled. "I'm not going back in there, and I sure as hell am not forgiving that murdering bastard for what he did to my family! To you, to Claire, to everyone else!" Matt protested.
"Alright, fine, you don't have to," Peter replied, trying to calm him down. "You and Molly are from LA, right? You guys were going to head up that branch of the Company, we'll keep him out here on the East Coast well out of your way. Sound fair?"
"Fair is seeing that fucking psycho pay for what he's done, Peter!" he fumed.
"I understand, Matt," Peter replied. "Hell, he's tried to kill me several times over. If not for Claire, I would have died in Odessa the first time I met him, much less when he killed me in Mohinder's apartment."
"I live there, too!" Matt argued.
"Right, you do now, but you didn't when he tried to kill Mohinder and me." Peter reminded him. "Didn't you know that when you moved in?"
Matt sighed. "No, not right away. Not until," he paused be fore continuing quietly, "Mohinder had a nightmare about it. His screams woke me up and he confessed what had happened. Hell, he still has the occasional nightmare about what happened to his father. That's another of his early victims!" He pointed back at the house for emphasis.
"Matt, this isn't like you, and you know it."
"I'm sorry, Peter," Matt said. "I just thought this was a business dinner for Company business, not an ambush trying to hire that murderer back to the Company."
"Yeah, mom's kinda devious that way," Peter chuckled.
Matt looked at his friend and the goofy smile on his face. He bust out laughing as well. "Dammit, Peter," said when he finally caught his breath. "I had a nice mad-on going, and you went and ruined it!" he joked.
"Yeah, I know," Peter agreed, chuckling.
Both men stood there, unsure what to say next.
Peter finally broke the silence. "Do you need me to call you a cab or something?"
Matt thought about it for a second. "Nah, I need to take a walk, work off the rest of this anger off before I get home."
"Matt, it's at least ten miles!" Peter protested. "How about I teleport you halfway there? Sound fair?"
Matt looked at his friend. "I don't have to hug you for this to work, do I? I know you Petrelli boys are all about the hug."
"Funny guy," Peter laughed, grabbed Matt's shoulder, and the pair vanished in a gust of wind as Angela watched from the front window. (Matt would later apologize for the shoes, but Peter brushed it off.)
She smiled. Things were happening just as she dreamed they would. At the very least, she was glad Matt hadn't shot up her house when he pulled his gun. It was nice to see the boys getting along. Mostly. They would have to for what was coming.
"He doesn't like me very much," Sylar said from behind her.
She turned and saw Gabriel standing there, Nathan watching him from the doorway. "You have caused him much grief, Gabriel. The two of you will have to work it out. There is much you must atone for to earn his forgiveness." She strode past him and up the stairs.
Gabriel Gray raised his eyebrow in curiosity at her words.
"You say that as if the fate of the world depends on it, Ma," Nathan noted before Gabriel could say anything.
She turned and forced a smile at her eldest. "It does."
-
Elsewhere....
"Yo, man, where you been?" the tattooed man, Frankie, asked his former gang leader.
"Away," he answered gruffly, checking the street traffic.
"Lock up? I didn't hear you went in, where at?"
"Nah, not the usual place," he replied. "Listen, I got some new stuff, expensive but it's worth every penny."
"What'chu talking 'bout, man? What'chu got?" Chino asked.
The black man held up a vial of pink liquid. "Something that's gonna change the world, man. Call it...Formula P."
"Looks like kool-aid, dawg."
"Formula P? What's the 'P' stand for?" Frankie asked in disbelief.
Knox smiled. "Power."
TBC________