Title: Love is a Temporary Madness

Author: Pinky and the Brain/ShenanaginsProductions

Summary: What are the circumstances surrounding Noah Gray's birth? Who is his mother? Why is he blonde? How can he exist in this new timeline? When was he conceived?

Disclaimer: We wish we owned Sylar, but we don't. He belongs to the creators of Heroes, as does the rest of the world. We think.

A/N

Brain's Notes: This is our shortest chapter. It also took the longest. ^.^ But I think this was one of the funnest chapters to write. Enjoy!

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Angela Petrelli was just finishing the first course of her Field Club meal (broiled oysters in a balsamic reduction- her favorite) when her cell phone rang.

"Angela Petrelli," she answered in a brisk tone, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin as the busboy came and replaced her oysters with a baby spinach salad.

"Ma."

Nathan's tone sounded choked, almost as though he had been crying. Angela was immediately on alert, setting her fork down and leaning forward.

"Nathan. What is it?" she asked gently, yet with a hint of urgency.

"I need to see you. Now," her son's voice answered. Without hesitation, Angela signaled to the waiter for her check.

"I'm on my way home right now, actually. Is there something wrong?" She sounded outwardly calm, but inside her heart rate had increased slightly.

"I'll tell you when I get there." The line went blank, as did Angela's mind.

_

Nathan arrived just after she did. Angela was setting her keys down on the entrance table in the foyer when he burst through the door. His chest was heaving as though he had been running, but his car was parked in the driveway. His expression was slightly anxious, and the tenseness in his posture suggested he was much more riled than he was letting on.

"Explain this." Without so much as a greeting, he strode forward and shoved his palm in front of her face.

Nothing was there.

"I- I…" It was one of the few times in her life Angela did not know what to say.

"Can you see it?" he demanded.

"Nathan." She took her son's hand between hers and squeezed lightly. "There's nothing to see."

He ripped away from her abruptly, and color rose to her cheeks. "Exactly."

He stormed into the living room and stopped in the middle of the room, where he stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her expectantly. His square jaw was set, and his lips were a thin line.

"Tell me what happened, Nathan." She walked slowly forward, putting a slight emphasis on his name. He flinched at the sound.

"Do you want to know what should be there?" he asked quietly. He looked at the ground and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. Angela drew in a sharp breath at the very un-Nathan-like gesture.

"Tell me everything, Nathan," she soothed, finally having reached him. She put her hands reassuringly on his shoulders, and his head snapped up.

"There should be a cut there. A slice. Blood. Something. I just cut myself on a very large piece of glass. I…" he trailed off, staring intently at Angela.

She froze momentarily, a muscle in her neck flexing. But she soon recovered, and patted her son's shoulders reassuringly. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation, Nathan."

"I only know two other people who can heal like that. One of them is my daughter. The other is dead." He bared his teeth, his gaze never leaving Angela's.

Angela Petrelli sighed audibly. She backed away slowly, a soft smile on her lips. "Oh, Nathan." The face of her son stared confusedly at her as she reached down slowly and picked up a small candlestick from the coffee table. "I'm so sorry."

In one swift movement, she lunged forward, and with a large clang, the body of her son slumped to the floor, unconscious. Angela Petrelli stared at him for a moment before putting the candlestick back in its place and taking her phone out of her pocket.

Her French-Manicured fingers swiftly dialed a number that she knew all too well. The line rang once, twice, three times before an exasperated sounding voice picked up.

"What do you want?"

Angela looked back at the body laying on the floor beneath her feet. Was it just her, or had Nathan's hair turned a shade darker? "Mr. Parkman," she addressed him. "We have some cleaning up to do."

_

"I'm not going to do it again." Matt Parkman crossed his arms and glared at Angela. Between them Nathan Petrelli laid, unconscious, on Angela's sofa.

"You have to, Mr. Parkman. You committed to this. We need Nathan." Angela's arms were also crossed, her lips a thin line, her expression smug.

"And what happens when he starts to doubt again? Do I just have to keep doing this over and over? That wasn't part of the deal," Matt protested, moving away from the body on the sofa. Slowly, ever so slowly, the features of Nathan Petrelli were beginning to change. The face was growing slightly longer, the body slimmer…

Angela leaned forward and placed her hands on the back of the leather couch. "So what happens when he," she gestured to her son's gradually shifting figure, "wakes up and realizes he's been duped? What are we supposed to do then?"

Matt turned his head, glancing unsurely at Nathan. "I just can't keep doing this," he breathed.

"You won't have to. We just need him long enough for the Company to be up and running again, with a good public face at its head. I'll keep more diligent watch over him." She nodded, almost to herself.

"This is sick. You're just using him until you don't need him anymore? Then what? You kill him? I don't want to be a part of that," Matt spat.

"You forget who you're talking about," Angela murmured. Matt's shoulders lowered slightly as Nathan's nose grew a fraction larger while they spoke.

"Please, Mr. Parkman. It's too late for you not to be a part of this. You're in, whether you like it or not. Now stick to your commitment. Make him Nathan," Angela said in a steady voice. Matt closed his eyes as though he was willing himself to be somewhere else. However, when he opened his eyes, there was a new determination shining in their depths. He stepped slowly forward and crouched down so that he was level with the couch. With one final, unsure glance at Angela, he reached forward and turned Nathan's head so that they were facing each other. Nathan jolted, his eyelids fluttering open. His eyes were black as pitch, and his eyelashes were darker than the rest of the hair on his head.

"You are Nathan Petrelli," Matt muttered, tilting his head and staring with an intimidating intensity at the man in front of him. "You are not Sylar. You are Nathan Petrelli, son, senator, father, brother. You are Nathan."

Nathan's face seemed to bubble and shift, and he growled in a voice that sounded nothing like Angela Petrelli's son. Matt shook Nathan's face, forcing the dark eyes open. They glowered balefully at him as he began chanting. "You are Nathan. You are Nathan."

Nathan ground his teeth and grunted. His eyes closed again as his face continued to shift sickeningly. When his eyes flashed open again, they were a much lighter shade of brown. Matt felt smiled with relief despite himself. "You are Nathan Petrelli," he said a final time.

It was complete. The body on the couch was indeed Nathan Petrelli, bearing no more resemblance to the monster who had been responsible for his death.

"Thank you," Angela said in the most grateful of voices. Matt stood up and turned his back to her.

Abruptly, a shrill ringing broke the sudden silence, forcing both of them to jump in surprise. Angela looked to Matt, who pivoted to look back at her. Their eyes both lowered at the same time to Nathan. Angela slowly reached into her son's jacket pocket and pulled out a small Razor phone. She flipped it open, frowning.

"Nathan has a new voicemail…" she said slowly. Without hesitation, she scrolled through his messages, and pressed speaker.

"Hi, Nathan… I mean, Senator," a breathless voice emitted from the phone, "It's Juliette."

Angela's eyes narrowed as the message continued. "I was just wondering if you were okay. I guess, well, I guess it's okay if you're not, but I'm really worried over what happened. Please give me a call. I hope it all works out. Well, bye."

Matt didn't know why Angela suddenly looked so somber. She pressed a single button, and with a beep a cool female voice announced, "Message deleted." With a snap, she closed the phone and replaced it in Nathan's pocket.

Without looking up she said, "Mr. Parkman… I have one more task for you."

_

Matt Parkman was not prepared to find a fragile, innocent looking blond girl to greet him. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, with wide eyes and a pale complexion.

She reminded him of Daphne.

She was nowhere near as strong, and her face was rather thin and pallid, but she had the same brightness in her eyes, the same confidence in her posture although she was tiny, and her hair was the same shade of golden blond.

And it was then that he knew that he could not carry out the other half of his duty.

Angela's words rang in his head as he approached the front desk of Petrelli's office. "She knows too much, her memory must be…. altered. She is a danger to us all. I fear that Nathan has developed feelings for her, and the sooner they both forget about that, the sooner she can stop meddling."

A nuisance. That's what Angela had called her. Harmless, but irksome, and distracting to Nathan. Poor girl, she didn't know what she was getting herself into. She thought she was falling for a state senator, a dignified political figure. Little did she know, she was working towards the exact opposite.

What could she know of the evils that lurked just around the corner? Of the distrust and injustice he had to deal with every day? She had probably never even been robbed. He was a mind-reader. This gave him insight on people rarely found by anyone else. He could tell that she was the least of Angela Petrelli's worries. He had no right to mess with anyone's mind, least of all hers. She deserved to know what she was getting herself into, but it wasn't his place. All he could do was give her the liberty of her memories.

He could just tell Mrs. Petrelli that Juliette O'Neil wasn't in the office when he'd gone to get her.

He turned sharply, intending on leaving the office before she noticed he was there.

Too late.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" She called after him.

He stopped short, and turned back around, smiling. "Oh, I was just looking for the Senator, but I can see he's not here." No duh.

The girl's face fell; at the mention of her boss she looked concerned, and sad, and although she was not thinking of anything specific, she was definitely worried about him. It was odd how clearly her eyes betrayed everything she was feeling. He hardly had to listen to her thoughts.

"You're right… he's not. Can I have your name? I'll tell him to call you." She smiled in a professional yet detached manner.

"No, that's all right, I don't want to make more work for you. I'll just come back later. It's really not that important," Matt shrugged.

"No, really, it's all right," she insisted.

Matt ground his teeth against the urge to persuade her to drop it with his power. "All right," he agreed.

He approached the desk, scanning the contents curiously as he did. There was a bottle of pills, a laptop, some post-it notes, a pad of paper… nothing really out of the ordinary. Right next to her, however, he noticed that she had a latte with the name "Nathan Petrelli" scrawled on it in sharpie marker stowed away beside her for when her boss returned.

She really did care for him.

"May I have your name?" she asked politely, pen at the ready.

Matt sighed. He couldn't let this go on. She seemed like a nice person; she didn't deserve to have her heart ripped in two by this monster in Nathan's body (perhaps literally).

He leaned forward, and she raised her eyebrow at the gesture. "I didn't come here to see the senator," he murmured, "I came here to see you." He could still be persuasive without the use of his power, it was just… more difficult. "You're getting into something you really shouldn't be a part of." Juliette's eyes widened, and she wrinkled her forehead, taken aback. "The senator isn't the man you think he is. If I were you I'd… I'd stop now before it's too late."

Leaving her aghast with that somewhat cryptic, creepy warning, he spun around and walked swiftly out of the office.

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A/N

Brain's Notes: We know the ending was abrupt, but we couldn't figure out how else to finish it. I love how Angela is so heartless, don't you?