**REPOST** I don't know what happened, but the last few paragraphs of this chapter didn't make the cut! Here is the complete chapter…sigh….

Chapter 49- ER

Ando stared at the small screen that Jim had assigned to him almost unblinking. He gathered that the number on the panel had something to do with the invisible shield that protected the ship, and he knew he had to tell the Captain if it ever went below 20, but other than that he had no comprehension of exactly what he was doing. But he faithfully watched because he had a feeling his job was very important and he was nothing if not the master of dutifully executing mundane tasks. Of course he would have liked to do more like maybe attack the ugly alien with a sword to save the day, but the last time he tried to swordfight with Sylar it didn't end very well and Sylar didn't even have a weapon to defend himself with. He instinctively grabbed onto the console when the ship shook again and the number on the screen took a temporary dive from 47 to 22.

"Scotty!" Jim called fixing his eyes on the ship on the screen. "Is there any way we can fire and warp at the same time?"

"Unbelievable." Scotty mumbled with a sour look on his face as he worked on a panel next to Ando. "The things Ah get asked ta' do. A magician is what Ah am apparently." He frantically pushed buttons and peppered the electronics with insults until he was satisfied. "Ya' ain't got much, but you are a go providin' the boys can keep it up down there."

Jim turned slightly in his chair confused until he remembered that the ship was currently being powered by the efforts of two superhumans in the engine room. "Sulu, what have we got?"

"About enough for one round of photon torpedoes and maybe a jump to the alpha quadrant." He reported.

"I agree." Chekov nodded. "Ve vill probably not quite make it to the neutral zone, but ve vill be close."

"Close will have to do it then. Set a course for Klingon airspace. We have to drop off our guests anyway and hopefully they can help us out if the Romulans decide to give chase." Jim sighed pushing a button on the arm of his chair. "Bridge to engineering. Sylar, Peter, how you guys holding up?" His only answer was a determined growl and he knew they couldn't hold out much longer. It was a miracle that they had done as much as they had, he didn't feel right asking any more of them. "You guys are doing a great job. Just hang on a little longer and we will be gone."

"Hurry." Came Peter's voice. He sounded weak and tired, but determined.

"Scotty, we have to help them out." Jim declared. "Leave sickbay online- I'm sure Bones needs the power but cut it to all other areas of the ship. I only want sickbay, the photon banks, and the nacelles running. We have to squeeze out every bit we can. Sulu, when he gets done, fire a round and get us out of here."

"Aye, Sir." He responded with his best war face as he aimed the munitions directly at Mendak's ship. "Firing." His reflexes were fast and certain because he had flown the ship away before the torpedoes even had time to find their target. In what seemed like seconds, they were floating peacefully in the darkness of space, apparently alone.

"Sulu, use the thrusters to limp us across the finish line. You have the com." Jim smiled. Safety was only a few parsecs away… "Scotty, I want to get down to the engine rooms if it is safe and check on our human generators."

"Aye, Sir." He took another glance at the power meter and noticed it was no longer moving and that didn't sit well with him. In the lift, he turned to Jim and exclaimed, "Bloody exciting, isn't it? But how are we gonna explain this all in our report? Ah mean, we can't very well say two magical people powered the ship!"

Jim looked at his chief engineer and laughed desperately as his eyes twinkled. "I don't have a damn clue about what we are going to tell them at this point. We have way too much to explain and I'll worry about that when the time comes." He shook his head and smiled broadly. "I can always just tell them the truth. They will think I fell off my rocker, but I can always blame it on Bones. I can say I had a bad reaction to some medicine he gave me. It wouldn't be the first time, you know."

"Oh, Aye." Scotty mildly agreed. "He's something of a terrorist with the hypo thing, ain't he?"

"You have no idea." He chuckled remembering how his hands and tongue swelled to enormous proportions from the sand flea inoculation back at the academy and all of the following injections to counteract his symptoms. When they reached the door to the main engine rooms, he cautiously peered through the window and looked around, but saw nothing. "Where did they go?" He wondered aloud.

"Well they bloody well didn't mosey on out to the cafeteria for a sandwich, now did they?" He asked. "The door's still locked- from the outside Ah might add."

Jim rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean jack. Sylar can unlock doors by twitching his finger or Peter could have just teleported them to the other side." He had personally witnessed both.

"Oh, Aye. Forgot about that bit." He had a look see for himself, but came up with the same result. "They were right back there by the coils." He murmured. "Ya don't think they disintegrated do ya?"

"How the hell would I know?" Jim shrugged. "When we tested them they didn't burn up, but that was for a very short time. God knows what could have happened for as long as they were at it."

"Sylar told me it wouldn't hurt them…" Scotty trailed off. Was the killer lying to him? If so, both he and Peter were now martyrs and while that seemed in character for Peter it didn't fit the bill for Sylar. "Computer," Scotty called, "where are Peter Petrelli and Sylar?"

"Peter Petrelli and Sylar are located in the main engine room." The voice coolly responded.

"Ok, let's go get them." Jim sighed reaching for a silver fire suit that would protect him from the ambient radiation that was sure to linger in the room. As soon as they entered, Scotty began the internal decontamination program that would filter the air and that was a good thing in Jim's book because the entire room smelled like burned flesh and it was absolutely sickening. Worse even than the burned Klingon he came face to face with on Koth's ship- this was far worse, but it was nothing compared to the sight of the two men when he found them laying on the floor behind the warp core, nothing more than charred bodies burned beyond recognition and a small pool of blood by the head of one of the bodies that appeared to have a very serious nosebleed. Despite his revulsion, he kneeled by them and called their names to no avail. He even reached out to touch a crispy arm, of who he couldn't tell, but got no response. He looked at the soot covered fingers of his glove and wondered if he was too late. "Kirk to medical!" He yelled desperately. "I have two badly burned victims in the engine rooms. I need assistance now!"

Scotty, hearing the uncharacteristic panic in his captain's voice, came running but stopped short at the terrible sight. "Ocht, Mon!" He gasped. "Ah don't think there's much we can do for 'em." He quietly observed. "Powers or no, Ah cannae imagine they could come back from that."

"I don't know either, Scotty, but we have to try." Jim replied resolutely. "I have watched them both come back from the dead before. Who's to say they can't do it again?" He looked over the men and realized that in both instances they had a sharp object lodged in the backs of their heads and that didn't appear to be the case this time, but he didn't have a clue who it all worked- he just hoped it would again.

It seemed he got his wish when one of the bodies stirred and opened shockingly white eyes that contrasted with the blackened skin. Jim almost fell backward in shock and horror and Scotty did let out a little shriek despite himself. The milky white faded and was replaced by dull hazel and Jim found himself regretting his wish: it was apparent just by the look in the eye that he was in incredible pain and now he found himself wishing he would again fall unconscious. To do nothing seemed inhumane and it made him sick to watch him suffer, but there was nothing he could do but wait for medical.

When McCoy did arrive, all he could do was look down and whisper, "My God" and doubt his ability to do anything other than to sedate them until their own healing fixed them or death came. Neither could come soon enough in his estimation.

Nathan slowly and carefully pulled himself up into a sitting position on his bed. His head still hurt like hell, but he could think more clearly and as long as he had his wits about him he could deal with everything else. Everything except the uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut that told him something was dreadfully wrong. He knew the feeling very well- well enough to know that it wasn't just nausea- he had that feeling when Peter was somehow in trouble and it was stronger now than ever before.

"Hey." Claire smiled as she approached cautiously. "Look who's finally awake."

Nathan smiled reflexively at his daughter because he knew he should, but he was a little preoccupied with what was going on inside. If she became suspicious, he planned to tell her that he was still a little groggy and it was after all a viable excuse. "Yeah, I'm back." He shrugged. "Hey, do you know where Peter is?" He asked cutting right to the chase but pretending it was an innocent inquiry. It hopefully wouldn't seem strange that he would ask for his brother from his hospital bed- it was no secret they were close.

"He was here, but he went with Sylar to the engine room." She replied. The tone in her voice told him she wasn't exactly comfortable with the circumstances and that only further raised his suspicions. What if Sylar was exacting revenge on Peter at that very moment? Even though he appeared mostly stoic when he found out he was going to be sacrificed, as he was about most everything no matter how serious, Nathan could almost see the seething anger just below the surface and no matter his attempts at remaining cool on the exterior, it was obvious that this slight would not go unanswered.

He leaped from his bed, nearly crashing into a nurse who attempted to stop him and made a mad dash for the doors. He didn't exactly know where the engine rooms were, but he wasn't about to let that stop him if his brother was potentially at the hands of a deranged killer. He didn't have to go far to have his worst fears confirmed. He jumped aside just as McCoy and other medical staff ran through the sickbay with a badly burned body on a floating stretcher. He watched in horror as they gently but quickly transferred the poor bastard to a bed and he just instinctively knew that it was Peter. There were only a scant few patches of raw, angry red skin among the charred flesh but he knew without a doubt that it was his brother and he ran to him as McCoy was drawing up a hypo of medications that he hoped would put him out for the duration. "Pete?" Nathan called as he gingerly reached out to touch his face, but he drew back for fear it would hurt him more. "Jesus, Pete! What happened to you?" He was on the verge of tears and angry with himself for not heeding his instincts. If he would have reacted faster, maybe he could have helped in some way.

Peter slowly opened his eyes and focused on his brother. He was healing, but slowly and although the pain was blinding he tried to smile as much as his damaged muscles would allow to hopefully let his brother know that everything was alright.

However, to Nathan the smile looked more like a grimace and the guilt nearly ate him alive. "Did Sylar do this to you?" He nearly growled. "God so help me I will kill him or die trying."

"Coming through!" Jim yelled as a second burned body arrived which he helped carry. The staff stripped Nathan's bed and reused it for the new arrival. It was just as well, his new post was at his brother's side and it seemed the casualties were piling up fast.

"Right." McCoy grumbled looking over Peter's decimated flesh in search of a useable area to insert the hypo.

"Wait." Matt called rushing to Peter's side apparently listening to him. "He wants you to work on Sylar first." He sighed. "He said he is much worse. Uh…rules of triage."

McCoy growled. "Don't tell me how to triage, kid. I know the rules!" He was angry, but he knew Peter was right so he reluctantly went to Sylar's aid.

"Pete, why?" Nathan asked incredulously as he glanced at Noah who held Claire tightly. She stared at her uncle in terror as if he were some kind of monster. "No one gives a damn about him, he deserves to suffer for everything he has done to us- to you!"

Matt tilted his head slightly and spoke for Peter. "He didn't do this to me. He saved us all, Nathan. He was the hero today and the rules of medicine don't favor one life over another. I'll be fine."

"Jesus, Pete! When are you ever going to stop being the martyr and start looking out for yourself?!" Nathan chided. "That man is a killer and whatever he did today does not forgive everything he has done. He does not give a damn about you or anyone else but himself and he is lying if he says different. I know his kind, Pete, he will say or do anything to get what he wants and right now he has convinced you that he can be good and he wants to change, but it's a trap, Pete! You or any of us will only be as important to him as we are useful and he won't hesitate to throw us away when he is done."

McCoy listened to Nathan's rant and he couldn't completely disagree with the man, he was talking sense, but he felt differently when Sylar slowly turned his head away with a despondent look in his dark eyes and the doctor felt guilty for not sedating him sooner. Sometimes emotional pain can be worse than physical and although the meds couldn't really help with that, they would at least make him mercifully unaware for a time. And from all that he had learned from Noah, the man didn't really need any more trauma heaped on him than he already had. Psychopath or not, McCoy had to believe that somewhere deep down in the man's soul there had to be something left that still had feelings and it was his duty as a doctor to relieve suffering when he could. No matter what the man may or may not be guilty of it wasn't his place to judge him, but he did need help and he was determined to provide it.

Normally Sylar was made of stronger stuff and he would have refused the medications forcefully if he had to, but in his current condition all he prayed for was relief. He didn't think of himself as weak for wanting mercy in this case because he had withstood far more than any man could and of that he was proud. He had gone the distance and pushed himself further than even he thought he was capable of, but his body screamed in pain which brought back too many bad memories to abide. Aside from the radiation damage, his very soul hurt at Nathan's words even though they were true. It was all the confirmation he needed that redemption would never be attainable for him no matter what he did. A small part of him mourned being summarily written off because he once was a good person and he could be again if he really tried, but he had burned too many bridges and was forced to forever wander the world alone for the choices he had made. He could man up and accept responsibility for his actions, but forever was a very long time to be alone he thought as the medications took effect and his deep brown eyes drifted shut.

Spock watched the entire spectacle from his bed with Mohinder still at his side. Since Jim was present, he surmised that they had made a successful escape from the Romulans but despite his initially low estimation of success, somehow he was not surprised by the outcome. If there was any being in the universe that could pull something like that off- repeatedly even- it was Jim. If he was stranded on a deserted planet with only a gum wrapper and a bit of string somehow he would still manage to devise a plan that worked and it was this incalculable x factor that was both a source of frustration and amusement to him. Spock never counted on luck in any of his endeavors; there was only hedged bets, contingency plans and probabilities to be considered, but far be it from him to question it if he were standing within range of Jim's magical sphere of logic bending luck if he was a benefactor as he was this time. Knowing Jim as he did, though, he realized that it wasn't all luck; Jim was probably the smartest, most cunning human he had ever had contact with and many of his plans which appeared harebrained on the surface were actually well thought out and took a considerable amount of nerve to execute. No doubt that was the case this time as well, although if he bothered to inquire about it Jim would casually shrug it off as no big deal.

Mohinder tore his eyes away from Sylar long enough to focus on his charge. "How are you feeling, Spock?" He asked with genuine concern. Perhaps he should have been a medical doctor, he had been told many times that he had a great bedside manner, he just didn't have the nerve for the job. Somehow manipulating tiny fragments of human building blocks seemed like much less pressure but could potentially be just as important as he was finding out the more he furthered his father's work.

Spock's initial reaction was to give a report on the functioning of his nervous system, but he understood that humans sometimes were imprecise with their inquiries and Dr. Suresh probably meant it as a general status update. "I believe the treatment I have received has been beneficial." He replied when in truth it was a bit more than that. He could never recall feeling stronger or more whole than he did then.

"Fantastic." Mohinder beamed. "You know, we were a bit uncertain as to how it would affect you. Dr. McCoy had reservations about giving you a direct transfusion, but it really was our only option. We almost lost you, my friend." Spock was silent long enough for Mohinder to become nervous. "I…I'm sorry, did we violate a religious code or…?" He stammered. He knew there were some people who objected to transfusions and other medical interventions based on religious beliefs and he felt guilty for never even considering it in Spock's case…if he even knew what his preferences were…

"I have no such prohibitions." Spock finally answered. "But I am curious as to what treatment was given as I was apparently so close to death." He had his suspicions, but he wanted confirmation.

"Claire's blood has healing properties and she volunteered to give it to you." He explained. Claire turned her head to them at the sound of her own name and he motioned for her to come. Reluctantly, she ended her vigil of her now comatose uncle to see the alien man. It wasn't like Nathan was letting anyone near him anyway while he hovered over him, nervously smoothing down the sheets or fiddling with whatever he could get his hands on while he watched his brother's skin slowly regenerate.

"Hello." She said with a shy smile. Even though she now felt differently about him, it was still hard to look into his eyes, dark and absorbing just like Sylar's except his held no malice- just curiosity if anything.

"Greetings." He nodded slightly. The tone of his voice was more or less neutral with just a hint of friendliness, like he was guarded and a little apprehensive too. "It appears I owe you my gratitude for the rapid improvement of my condition."

"It was no big deal, really." She blushed. She wasn't exactly used to being the hero and even less comfortable with being recognized for her efforts.

"If by 'no big deal' you mean to say that you had only a minimal part in assisting me in my recovery then I would have to disagree." He replied somewhat jokingly. He didn't mean to make her feel uncomfortable, but she really was being illogical. "I believe it was your ability that was the deciding factor."

"Really?" Jim asked as he approached. He knew it made him look like a shameless eavesdropper, but he didn't care in the least- not when there was a good story afoot. "So you gave him your blood and everything's back to neat?" He asked amazed.

She was even more embarrassed than before, especially because it was Jim who was interested. "Yeah well, that's how it works." She shrugged. "That's what I do."

Before he could go on, Sulu's voice echoed through the room. "Bridge to Captain Kirk, we have visitors. You might wanna get back up here for this."