HIRO NAKAMURA

KYOTO, JAPAN 1671

Opening his eyes felt like the most difficult task Hiro had ever attempted. It took him almost five whole minutes to force his eyelids to separate and then stay open against the heavy natural urge to let them slip shut again. When he finally did manage to keep his eyes open, all he could see was darkness. His head throbbed with pain and every inch of his limbs felt sore. Instinct told him to move and take in his surroundings, but his body refused to cooperate. The most he could do was turn his head slightly from side to side, which gave him a partial view of the darkness, occasionally broken up by thin strips of light across what looked like a cement floor. From his position he couldn't see where the light came from, but he imagined it must be from windows of some sort, somewhere behind and above where he was lying.

The last thing Hiro remembered was holding his sword firmly and courageously above his head, trying to decide if he would have better luck with the single warrior in black, or the herd of warriors in red. Neither side looked very friendly, but in the end, Hiro had decided that one warrior would be better than a whole group. Before he had a chance to move at all though, he had felt something hard slam into his skull and he had dropped to the ground, blacking out instantly. Now he found himself in a dark room, likely some form of dungeon, and he hadn't a clue as to who had taken him captive.

After lying still for nearly ten minutes, Hiro's head began to clear a little. The throbbing at least had started to subside and though his body still ached he felt as though he might be able to move if he tried. He didn't try quite yet though, he needed to think a bit first.

How did I get here? Hiro felt his glasses sliding down his nose and was impressed that he had managed to keep them on at all considering what his captors must have put him through, considering the pain he was in. I really should work on mastering my powers. Maybe I really do need my sword in order to control them. He turned his head to the side again, trying to adjust to the dim lighting.

Finally working up the energy to move a little, Hiro started slowly stretching out his legs, feeling the hard pavement beneath his bare feet. Where are my shoes? He wondered suddenly, noticing for the first time that they were missing. Stretching out further, Hiro tried moving his arms as well, but realized they were chained, either to the wall or the floor, he couldn't tell for sure. Wriggling his wrists briefly to see how tight the chains were, Hiro eventually had to give up.

I wish Ando were here. He couldn't help missing his friend in this situation, but deep down Hiro was glad that he had insisted that Ando stay behind before returning to New York. If his friend had accompanied him, Sylar most likely would have killed him, and besides, Hiro wasn't even sure if he had stopped the explosion, so New York could be gone. Did I fail?

MOHINDER SURESH, CLAIRE BENNETT, & MOLLY WALKER

NEW YORK

"I'm sorry my apartment is not in better order…" Mohinder dropped his eyes, a little embarrassed, as he opened the door to his guests.

Claire tried not to show her surprise at the disarray of the small apartment as she stepped through the door. "It's fine, really…I just appreciate you letting me stay with you."

"Well, as you might have guessed, I'm not the best at housekeeping or childcare for that matter, so when someone volunteers to cook and help me baby-sit, you must understand how eagerly I would take you up on that offer." Mohinder led Molly into the front room by her hand.

Claire smiled at the girl, whose expression mirrored the way that Claire was feeling about the apartment. "I'm glad to help. I've always wanted a little sister."

Molly grinned up at the older girl in response.

"I don't want to pry, but how did your apartment get to be so…" Claire was at a loss for appropriate words.

Mohinder laughed a little. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten a chance to clean after Sylar and Peter decided to use it as their personal war zone."

Claire wanted to know more about that day, but she didn't ask at that moment. She had a feeling that it wasn't something that Molly needed to hear. "Well, no worries, I can help you get this place back in order."

"Thank you, Claire, that is very helpful of you, though not at all necessary!" Mohinder assured her as he closed and locked the door. He fumbled briefly for the light switch before flipping it on. "Well, make yourselves comfortable…" He glanced around the apartment, again grimacing at the mess.

Claire removed her jacket and hung it on the hat rack by the door. "Do you have any food in the kitchen?"

Mohinder shrugged. "Perhaps. I don't eat much myself…"

"How can you not eat?" Claire laughed.

"My work is very consuming and sometimes I suppose I simply forget about other things…"

"That's weird." Claire laughed again and Mohinder blushed slightly, hating that this girl could make him feel so hopelessly pathetic in so many ways.

"I might have something you could snack on." He offered.

"I'm not really that hungry, but I was thinking about Molly…" Claire glanced at the girl who was still standing by the door a little awkwardly as if she didn't quite know what to do with herself.

"Are you hungry, Molly?" Mohinder asked her.

"Sort of."

"Come on sweetie, let's see what we can dig up in the kitchen." Claire motioned for the girl to follow as she started winding her way through the obstacle course of overturned desks and chairs and scattered books. "While we're looking for food, maybe you can figure out where we're all going to sleep Dr. Suresh…" As Claire was looking over her shoulder at Mohinder, her foot caught on an overturned chair and she let out an unintentional yelp as she collapsed to the floor and felt her hands and knees being pierced by multiple shards of glass.

Mohinder gasped as she pushed herself back onto her knees. He realized that he still hadn't cleaned up the shattered glass that Sylar had left blanketing the floor. "Oh god, Claire!" He rushed to her side and helped her to her feet.

"It's okay." Claire assured him, carefully prying the thick pieces of glass out of her palms. Mohinder watched in awe as the skin on her hands closed up over the deep gashes that the glass had created. She wiped her hands on her pants and held them up for Mohinder to inspect. "See? No big." Her hands were completely clear of any marks.

"That's incredible." Mohinder felt giddy.

Claire bent over to remove the glass that had sliced through her pants and punctured her knees. Those were stuck in more deeply and she had difficulty pulling them out. "Umm…would you mind maybe…"

Mohinder nodded and helped her pull the glass free. Once it was out he couldn't resist pulling open the slits in her pants to watch her knees heal themselves as well. "Truly remarkable."

Claire grinned as his reaction, but then grew serious. "You're lucky it was me that tripped and not Molly."

Mohinder nodded. "Watch your step." He told the child and she nodded obediently, carefully picking her way around the debris until she reached the small kitchen where Claire and Mohinder had moved on to. "While you're rummaging through here, I'll try to get this mess a little more tidy…"

Claire shook her head. "You might as well leave it until morning, it's been a long enough day. We'll just move slowly tonight."

He nodded, agreeing with her logic and moved into the bedroom to problem-solve the sleeping arrangements.

"Okay, let's see what Dr. Suresh has to eat in this place!" Claire wanted to keep an uplifting spirit for the young girl, despite the dismal events of the long night and the fact that they were now staying in an apartment that felt as though a tornado has passed through it.

Molly stood on tiptoes, trying to see into the cupboards that Claire was opening, but she still couldn't reach. "What's he got?"

Claire smiled down at the girl. "Not a lot." She pulled out two boxes of macaroni and cheese. "Sound good?"

Molly nodded. "Sure."

"Let's hope he has the rest of the ingredients." Claire scanned the required necessities on the side of the box and then checked the refrigerator for milk and butter. "Looks like we're in luck." She rummaged through a few more cupboards until she found a pot to cook the pasta in. Once she had set it up on the stove she started searching for dishes and silverware. "I think I spotted some soda in the fridge, Molly, why don't you get it out and pour us some." Claire finally found a few mismatched bowls, cups, and forks and set them out on the counter while she finished preparing the easy meal.

"I think it's a little old." Molly wrinkled her nose as she opened the bottle of soda and it didn't fizz in the slightest.

Claire laughed. "Well, it's all he has."

Molly nodded and poured the flat soda into the three glasses that Claire had set out.

"I'm afraid this place isn't designed for more than one person." Mohinder stated as he rejoined the girls in the kitchen. "The bed should be large enough for the two of you to share though, and I'll take the couch."

Claire instantly felt guilty about making him sleep on the couch. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this. I hadn't intended to…"

"Don't worry about it Claire, I'm glad to help, though I do think your dad will be worried when he realizes you are gone."

"I left a note." Claire told him simply. "It told him that I had left for answers and I wanted him to go back to Texas to take care of my mom and brother."

"And you think he will do that?"

"I hope so." Claire knew that her father's first instinct would be to track her down, but she hoped he would listen to her and leave New York, letting her be responsible for her own choices. "You know, your kitchen supply is pretty pathetic." She changed the subject, not wanting to dwell anymore on the father she had run away from.

"I know. Eden use to cook for me…" He paused, realizing he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Eden? Is that your girlfriend?" Claire smiled.

"Umm…no. She was a girl that knew my father and helped me with some research…but she actually was tricking me…" He hesitated. "Actually, she worked with your father."

"Oh?" Claire paused. The name sounded familiar. "Does she have dark hair, above her ears?"

He nodded.

"I think I saw her once at my dad's office." Claire remembered the young pretty girl who had been there the day she had gone in search of banner paper for her Homecoming game. "She was very pretty."

"Yes, she was." Mohinder agreed softly. "She…she died."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Claire regretted bringing the painful subject up.

Mohinder nodded, appreciating her sympathy. "So, how long have you known that Nathan Petrelli is your father, I mean I assume you didn't always know since you grew up with another family, correct?" He pulled a tray of ice cubes from the freezer and plopped a couple cubes in each glass that Molly had filled with soda.

"No, I didn't know. I mean, I've known that I was adopted for years, but I never had any interest in my biological parents until I learned about my abilities," Claire explained. "I wanted to know if they were special like me. It was a long process because my mother had supposedly died in a fire when I was just a baby, but that was a lie." She shook her head. "A lot about my life has been a lie, actually. Anyway, I finally tracked my mother down and met with her, but she said my father didn't want to meet me. Then I came to New York to find Peter and met his mother instead. She's the one who told me the truth about my father." Claire tried to squeeze perhaps the most important moments of her life into a very brief explanatory sentence.

"I see. Well, I know that your father is special, but what about your mother? Does she also have abilities?" Mohinder inquired.

"Yea, she can create fire."

"Interesting."

"Food's ready!" Claire turned off the stove and started dishing up the macaroni. "Sorry if it's not very good." They took the bowls over to the small table and sat down to eat.

"It's not bad." Mohinder decided after first taste.

"Thanks." Claire smiled at his politeness and tasted it herself. It wasn't horrid, but she knew it could have been better. "So Molly, Dr. Suresh told me that you were special too."

Molly nodded with a full mouth.

"What is that you can do?"

She swallowed her bite before answering. "I find people."

"You what?"

"If I think about someone I can find them."

"Anyone? Anywhere?"

The girl nodded.

Claire's eyes brightened excitedly. "Then you can locate Peter!"

Molly glanced at Mohinder who nodded slowly. "If Peter is still alive, Molly can most likely find him, yes."

"Most likely?" Claire didn't understand the hesitancy.

"Molly has been sick for a very long time." Mohinder explained. "Until today I was afraid I would never manage to find her a cure, but I finally figured it out and administered it to her." He glanced at the girl who was smiling at him broadly; her admiration of her doctor was evident in her eyes. "The sickness blocked her powers mostly, but she has been regaining her abilities slowly, though I am still not confident in the extent to which she is able to use them."

"Okay…" Claire sighed. "Can she try though?"

"Of course, but not tonight."

Claire was a little disappointed, but she understood Mohinder's reasoning. Molly had had a busy enough day and she needed rest before trying to use her powers again. "Fine, we'll try it tomorrow…if that's okay with you Molly…"

Molly nodded. "If it helps you find your hero, then I want to do it."

"Thank you." Claire smiled gratefully at the young girl and resumed eating.

After dinner the girls readily climbed into the bed they were sharing, still wearing their clothing. Claire was starting to miss her own bed and her pajamas, but she would rather sleep in her clothes for weeks than to go back to Texas and give up on finding Peter. Seeing that the girls were comfortable in the bedroom, Mohinder gathered a few books from the mess on the floor and read by a single lamp until the sun started to rise a few hours later. He couldn't sleep until he understood Molly's disease better, to make sure that he had cured her permanently.

Ring. Ring. Mohinder realized that he must have finally dozed off when his cell phone woke him at five thirty in the morning. He fumbled in his pocket to retrieve the phone, hoping to answer it quietly without waking the girls.

"Hello?" Mohinder answered groggily, clearing his throat and trying to wake up quickly.

"Dr. Suresh…"

Mohinder recognized the voice instantly and he sat up straighter, leaning sideways, trying to see into the bedroom. "Good morning Mr. Bennett." He spoke quietly, hoping Claire wouldn't wake up. "What may I do for you?"

"It's my daughter…" Mr. Bennett explained slowly. "She has run from me and she has made it very clear that she no longer wants my help."

"I'm very sorry, Sir." Mohinder decided against telling Mr. Bennett that his daughter was in fact there at the moment. "What may I do for you though?"

"She doesn't understand a lot of what's going on, but she's determined to find answers." Mr. Bennett sighed. "She's not safe on her own. She's just a child and most likely still a very valuable target for quite a few people."

"I'm not sure I understand why you're calling me…"

"Dr. Suresh, I am leaving New York this morning. I will return to Texas as my daughter asked and let her do this on her own, but I need to ask you a favor…"

"Certainly."

"If it's at all possible, could you try to find her or help her in some way? She doesn't have anybody in New York…"

"I will do my best…" Mohinder felt a little guilty lying to him.

"I'm not going to give up on her, Dr. Suresh. Back in Texas I will continue research and see if I can find out anything about the conspiracy that we all somehow became involved in last night. I have a feeling Claire is involved more than any of us realize." He hesitated. "You have to understand that I am not her real father…"

"Yes, Mr. Petrelli is." Mohinder snapped his mouth shut, realizing he hadn't meant to say that much.

"Yes…he is…" Mr. Bennett didn't press how he knew; he had more important issues on his mind right now. "Dr. Suresh, there's something else you need to know, another reason why I have called you and asked you to find my daughter."

"Oh?"

"Sylar is alive."

Mohinder felt his mouth go instantly dry. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. I went back to Kirby Plaza and saw blood smeared toward the drain leading down to the sewers. Then I checked police reports and they had no record of there being anyone at the plaza matching Sylar's description." Mr. Bennett explained. "He must have lived through Hiro's sword and escaped before anyone noticed."

"All right…" Mohinder stood. "I need to…we shouldn't…" He found it difficult to form a coherent thought at that moment. "He knows where I live."

"Do you think he will come after you?"

"It's not just me, I still have Molly, and…" Mohinder paused, but realized it was the right moment to be truthful. "Mr. Bennett, your daughter is here with me."

"She is?" Mr. Bennett's voice actually expressed relief. "Thank God she found you. Is she there right now?"

"Yes, well no, she's sleeping in the bedroom with Molly."

"Don't tell her I called." Mr. Bennett requested quickly. "She'll just think I'm trying to interfere, but please take care of her…"

"You have my word, Mr. Bennett."

LAKE ONTARIO, NEAR TORONTO, CANADA

"Hey dad look, he's waking up!"

The sun was painfully bright as he struggled to open his eyes, being forced to squint against the glare. "Where…what…where am I?" His harsh coughing seemed to rumble throughout his entire body.

"You're on our boat, Mister. I found you floating in the water late last night. You're lucky we were out camping or you probably would've drowned!" A man bent over him with a towel. "My son and I tried drying you off the best possible, but you seem to have caught a fever."

"Where am I though?" His voice was slowly regaining strength, but he did feel feverish.

"Lake Ontario. We're heading back to Toronto now. We should be there within the hour."

"Toronto?"

"Yep, where're you from and how'd you get out in the middle of the lake like you were?"

"I…I don't know." He felt certain that lying was the only thing he could do at this moment.

"Uh-oh…do you have amnesia?"

"Son, don't ask things like that, it's not nice!" The father rebuked his son, but then looked down with concern. "Do you know your name?"

"Yea…I'm Peter. Peter Petrelli."