A/N: Trek comes home on DVD tomorrow! WOOOHOOOO!!!! Guess what I will be doing for the rest of the week…

Chapter 12- Decisions

With a little help from his friend, Jim was feeling much better by the end of the day even though Sylar sat on the edge of the bed at the far end of the sickbay glaring at him intermittently. Even though Peter had convinced him that the crew meant no harm, it was as though the murderous impulse was still in full effect and suddenly Jim knew what a rat felt when it was tossed into a cage with a snake. This guy could probably scare the daylights of a Romulan without really trying. He knew he for one would probably have nightmares for awhile…

In truth, Sylar's menacing from afar was purely coincidental although its effects did not completely escape his attention. What he was in fact doing was dispassionately scanning and absorbing details of his environment, making reams of mental notes that he would later assemble into cognitive maps and working hypotheses. Once upon a time, the thrill of discovery would have brought a feeling of accomplishment and joy, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt that way about anything. His innate ability, intuitive aptitude, was the only one that he could truly call his own but now it largely worked without any real effort on his part. Unraveling mysteries was as easy as catching a cold- which he might have found exciting since it was impossible for him to actually do.

Peter milled about aimlessly mulling things over in his head. He knew he had done the right thing, but he also knew how quickly things could go south as long as Sylar was awake and mobile. On the one hand, he knew that the crew was doomed should he be provoked again, but on the other he also understood in some twisted fashion the way that Sylar must have felt about the whole situation and truth be told he couldn't blame him. He wanted to talk to him and try to let him know that he was not as alone as he believed himself to be in all of this, but he also knew that Sylar did not believe that he needed mutual human relationships. It was as if he was most comfortable in his isolation, but it made sense in that it was much easier to do whatever was necessary to ensure your own survival if you didn't give a damn about anyone else around you. Peter sighed and folded his arms. The ability to see both sides as equally valid often left him completely indecisive and he was at a loss as to what to do next. If he did nothing, more 'misunderstandings' were bound to happen but he also knew that Sylar's tolerance for companionship was very limited and if he pushed too hard too fast that alone could set him off. In the end, he decided to just play it by ear and trust his instincts as he always did.

McCoy held an emergency meeting in his office with Noah and Spock. "What I would like to know," he hissed in a barely controlled rage, "is exactly what he can do. I have seen him rise from the dead, use some invisible force to hold us immobile and cut the throat of Dr. Suresh, spontaneously heal and then he shoots some kind of blue hell from his hands! What else is he capable of?"

"Well," Noah began calmly, "he has a habit of disappearing for long stretches of time and we can never be certain if and what powers he may have acquired, and he was infected with the Shanti virus during which time he lost some of his abilities. But I can tell you about the ones we have watched him use."

"Please do!" McCoy huffed sarcastically.

"There are of course the ones you mentioned. The 'blue hell' as you called it is electricity. Peter can do it too." He obliged. "As Peter said he can tell when someone is lying to him, he can touch an object and know its history…"

"Wait, what does that mean?" McCoy sputtered.

"Say he found a picture of your daughter. He could pick it up and see the memories you had when you held it, or when she gave it to you." Noah smiled slightly as the horror of the implication sunk in for McCoy. "And he can do this with any object if he wants to gain information about you. Think of it as his version of Peter and Matt's mind reading ability."

"I do not understand how this is possible." Spock objected. "It would require traces of psychic energy be held in a semi-permanent state for him to detect. And for the residue to be deposited, the owner of the object must in some way transfer energy from the mind to the object."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Noah chuckled. "At this point no one knows how exactly they do anything that they do, yet a lack of understanding doesn't prevent them from using their abilities in the slightest."

"I guess that is the whole point of all this." McCoy grumbled. "So is that it?"

"Not exactly." Noah admitted. "He can turn objects that he touches into gold. And he used to be able to go into a trance like state and paint the future, but I don't know if he can still do that or not. He may have lost that one to the virus. I am pretty sure Peter can, though."

"What is this Shanti virus?" McCoy asked with a squint. "Is it infectious to ordinary humans?"

"What was it is more like it. The thing about time travel is that it can beautifully illustrate the butterfly effect in which a seemingly innocuous event can cause an apocalypse. Without being overly dramatic, the only reason we are sitting here is because Peter was able to search it out and destroy it before it was released and killed over 90% of the world's population. That was the future of humanity, but since the timeline was altered no one knows of its existence." Noah sighed heavily and regretted his next bit of information. "Sylar contracted the virus because the company I worked for developed and injected him with it when we first discovered and captured him. We ran tests on him until he nearly died. Each time he was close we were ordered to revive him and continue with the experiments not caring if it did kill him in the end as long as we got the information we wanted. After that, he was going to be left to die because the virus not only erased the abilities of the individual, but it had the nasty side effect of being 100% fatal."

"My God." McCoy breathed falling back in his chair. It all became clear to him why the man acted as he did if he thought he was reliving the experience all over again. Suddenly he felt sick at being complicit in doing what little he had done in light of what he had just learned.

"And the purpose of this experimentation was to determine the mechanism of his powers?" Spock asked undeterred. If he was at all bothered by what he had just heard, he wasn't showing it.

"Not so much how they worked, but rather what he had." Noah corrected. "We knew by that time he had more than just his base power, but none of the tests we did came up with anything. The Shanti virus was reported to neutralize the abilities of specials. At the time it seemed like stripping them of their powers was the safest thing for them, certainly someone like Sylar. So we tested it on him."

"And you believe that the virus successfully inactivated his abilities?" Spock continued.

"Most of them, it did. He retained at least telekinesis and perhaps more that he doesn't use but this was all before he had Claire's ability. Mohinder found that a mixture of her blood along with his formed an antidote. Sylar found out about it and stole a dose for himself, kick starting the process of acquisition all over again to rebuild what he had lost."

"How did Dr. Suresh's blood factor into the equation?" McCoy asked.

"Shanti," Noah said quietly, "was the name of his deceased sister. She was also a special, but she developed the virus and passed away before Mohinder was born. If she could have held on a little longer, they would have discovered the antibodies that she needed in his blood. His antibodies plus Claire's healing ability acting as an accelerant allowed for Sylar's rapid recovery. You ask if the virus is contagious, but all that remains is Sylar's acquired immunity to it so there is no chance the crew can become infected. Peter and Sylar's healing ability pretty much makes them sterile for all intents and purposes- their bodies destroy disease before it can be transmitted. They can't even be carriers."

"It would be ideal if we could obtain data on all available abilities. If I understand correctly, Peter does not share all abilities with Sylar and he would not be likely to acquire them. Do you think it would be possible to persuade Sylar to willingly participate in the research process?" Spock inquired.

Noah tried his best not to laugh because the man was so earnest and he didn't know Sylar the way he did, so he didn't have a clue how absurd his suggestion was. "Hell has a better chance in freezing over." He chuckled. "Sylar won't willingly do anything for you because that is just how he is. He wouldn't cross the street to save his own mother, so forget jumping through hoops for your little pet project."

"His reticence is understandable given his previous experience," Spock continued "however, Peter demonstrated that he is a man that values reason. It appears he can be motivated through logic if it is sound. I wish to speak with him in this manner if he is agreeable."

"Good luck with that." Noah mumbled. "You don't have to ask my permission to talk to him, but I will warn you that he can turn on a dime. I would have Peter nearby if I were you just in case…what you saw earlier is fairly tame compared to what he is truly capable of."

Matt, Ando and Hiro looked anxiously as the lift doors opened and their partners returned. They had been gone a long time and they were starting to worry. The look on the faces of Uhura, Sulu and Chekov were anything but reassuring, though.

"Is everything ok?" Hiro asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure." Uhura answered still in awe. "Maybe you should tell us."

"What happened?" Ando asked standing up. The tension was just too much for him.

"What do you think happened?" Matt cried. "He's awake, isn't he? Goddamn it! I knew it! What did I tell you? I said it was a bad idea. Did he kill anyone?"

"Almost. He shot blue…" Chekov searched for the right words and ended up just shaking his hand to illustrate his point "and then…" he made a sweeping gesture with a pointed finger. "It vas the most terrible thing."

"Seriously." Sulu agreed. "Did you see the look on his face? It was like he felt absolutely nothing. He was going to kill them all and then yawn, I swear."

Matt sighed and hung his head. It was only a matter of time before he followed through and it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

Nathan shuffled around in the dim light of Peter's apartment. He had tried several times to call his brother to warn him- to beg him to run if he had to. He had enough on his conscience with the deaths of hundreds as it was without that particular addition. He knew he was taking a big risk in reaching out, but consequences be damned. This was spiraling way out of control and he couldn't watch his baby brother become a victim. He might have deserved a fate like that, but not Pete. Peter may have bungled things now and again and generally made one mess after another for him to clean up practically his entire life, but his heart was always in the right place. Nathan seemed to have the same luck as his brother when it came to good intentions going bad, so he completely understood.

What he didn't understand was why Peter didn't respond to his calls and what worried him more was that nothing had moved since the last time he had come. The mail was piling up by the door and not so much as a dust bunny was out of place. Clearly, Peter hadn't been there in at least three days and a sick knot formed in Nathan's stomach. Did they get to him before he could? He knew that Peter often worked long hours as a paramedic, but a 72 hour shift was ridiculous.

He took one last look around the empty apartment and vowed to never return. The place was likely under surveillance and he wasn't going to play with fire by coming back. Nathan was not an optimistic man, but he had to hope that Peter saw the writing on the wall and went into hiding. He hoped that the subtle tip-off he sent to Noah was understood and he was forewarned. He may have botched the last job, but he could still be trusted. Besides, it was the only option he had.

He quietly closed the door and removed his cell phone from his pocket. "Hey. I'll be there as soon as I can. Of course I will take care of it, it is as good as done." He hung up and heaved a heavy sigh.