Trust And Blood, 3x15
In Washington, Building 26...
Nathan paced around his office, rubbing his head. How the hell had things spun so out of control? It was just supposed to be a simple transfer! A damn plane crash? Nothing in his life was ever simple was it?
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He dialled Angela's number. The need to vent was too much to handle. He would just go mad if he didn't talk to somebody now. He sighed in relief when his mother answered.
"Did I wake you?" He asked, tapping his fingers on the desk nervously.
"I've been expecting your call." His mother's crisp tone came over the line, devoid of any sort of i-just-woke-up fog. "Have you managed to detain all the escapees?" He didn't even bother to ask how she even knew there were any escapees. He was used to her psychicness by now.
"No, not yet." Nathan replied, glancing out the window at the busy, wet streets of Washington. All the people down there looked relaxed. Carefree. It was true; ignorance is bliss.
"How does the damage look like?" Angela asked, business-like as ever. "Well, it's not good. Someone messed with the plane's main computer and all hell broke loose."
"Are there any casualties?"
Nathan sighed. "No, Noah and the pilot managed an emergency landing." He rubbed his forehead, breathing hard. He could already feel the frown lines forming. "The plane broke apart when it hit the ground." He heard silence on the other end. He could already hear the unspoken question. Is Peter okay? Trying to take his mind off the seriousness of the situation, he kept talking. "Some of the prisoners escaped." He babbled, even though he knew that this was not news to Angela. All he heard was silence on the other end for a few minutes and he was almost about to hang up when Angela spoke.
"Well dear," She sighed in a tone that could almost be described as motherly, "There's only two things that can come out of situations like this. Trust and blood." She paused before continuing. "The thing is, Nathan," She asked, her words laced with something close to malice, but not quite. "who's trust are you going to earn, and who's blood is it going to be? And is it worth it?" Nathan didn't answer her, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer or not.
43 hours earlier...
Somewhere in Arkansas, Russellville
Hiro's lungs were burning, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He could hear those scary-ninja American soldier people behind him, and he could feel the fear coursing through his veins, keeping his legs moving. He really missed his power, he decided. He wouldn't even have to run if he had it. He heard some of the guards shouting and it heightened his panic. He somehow made his legs move faster, trying to gain as much distance from the crash site as possible. In his hurry, however, he forgot to look where he was going. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the ground under his feet. He fell forwards, landing in the rough, sandy ground. He moaned softly into the ground. Ow.
Before he could make a move to get up though, he felt two pairs of hands drag him to his feet and away from where he had landed. He was about to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth, making it impossible for him to do so. He glanced to capturers and sighed in relief. It was not one of the stormtroopers, it was only Matt Parkman and Dr. Suresh. He closed his eyes and sighed. Thank God.
They pulled him backwards against the wall, making sure to keep out of sight of the stormtrooper that was shining his torch on the exact place where Hiro had fallen. As soon as they were sure the stormtrooper was gone, Matt immediately turned to Hiro.
"Hiro, what are you doing here?" He asked while looking around for anymore of the guards. "Did you get your powers back?" He asked hopefully. It would certainly be very useful right now. To his disappointment, Hiro shook his head dejectedly. "No, I'm powerless. The hero's path is never easy." Both Suresh and Parkman mentally rolled their eyes. Most of the time, Hiro's blind optimism was humorous, but neither of them felt like laughing right then.
Mohinder scanned the clearing. "If we stay here, we're dead. We have to keep moving!" He shouted, barely able to be heard over the sound of the chopper that was headed their way. Hiro was quick to agree with him. "Yes, save the others!" He conceded as they edged sideways, carefully keeping out of sight.
"Where are they?" Mohinder called back, running for cover as the helicopter shone a huge beam of light in their direction.
"I saw them running. Peter Petrelli and some others." He panted, following Mohinder. "It is our duty to save them-"
He was cut off by Matt. "Don't you get it? Powers alone aren't going to cut it with these guys. They were ready for us. All of us!" The thought scared Hiro to no end. He hadn't been ready for his own powers, so how could anyone else be?
"Then what do we do?" He asked desperately. No one replied.
"The sun will be up soon. There's more trees and cover that way, come on." Mohinder finally said, making a break for it. When he looked behind him, however, Matt wasn't following him. "Matt!" He hissed, running towards his former roommate. "Matt! Where are you going?" He tugged on Matt's sleeve, turning Matt to face him. He gasped when he saw Matt's eyes. They were white, glazed over and though they were open, he didn't seem to see neither him nor Hiro. What in the world? Matt tilted his head in the opposite direction of where Mohinder had been going, and strode boldly forward, not even bothering to check to see if anyone had seen them. Mohinder turned to Hiro, who merely shrugged and followed Matt. Mohinder shook his head before running after them. Matt seemed to know what he was doing after all.
Peter ran forward, glancing behind him nervously. He couldn't believe Nathan was doing all this. I mean, he could, he just didn't want to. It made him so...Angry, and yet it made sense. Claire's sudden 'disappearance' made sense too. She must have been the first one Nathan took. Red tainted his vision. He ran faster. "Don't move." A familiar voice called from behind him. "Noah." Peter let out a bitter chuckle. "Of course. I should've known you'd be involved in something like this. You're the original company man, aren't you?" Peter turned around to face Noah, hands in the air. Noah didn't say anything, just used his gun to motion for Peter to get on the ground. Peter refused to move. "How can you do this? What about Claire? What does she think about all this?" Peter yelled, fighting to be heard against the sound of shouts and gunshots.
Noah didn't answer, but froze momentarily at the sound of Claire's name. Taking advantage of Noah's momentary mistake, he lunged forward, twisting the gun out of Noah's hands. Before Noah could react, Peter had pushed him to the floor and had the gun trained on him. Wow, Peter marvelled. He couldn't imagine many people had managed to get the drop on Noah Bennet. Ever.
Peter kept his gun trained on Noah as he walked backwards, eyes never leaving the company man. "Just so we're clear," Peter snarled as he walked away, "The only reason I'm not putting a bullet in you're brain right now, is because of Claire. She loves you." Peter's eyes softened for a second "Just don't let her down more than you and Nathan already have by doing this." Then the softness was gone, and Peter turned and ran, disappearing into the woods.
As he watched Peter's shadowy silhouette disappear into the trees, something that looked very much like a meteorite crashed into the ground in front of him. He managed a grim smile as the air strike commenced, watching as the bright orange flames billowed and rose into the air. Another 'meteorite' hit the ground, sending debris in every direction. Much like Noah's world. Grey area's were overrated, he decided as he stared on at the flaming wreckage.
In Newark, New Jersey...
Sylar's gaze locked in on Agent Simmons. He wished he had been able to get that persuasion girl's power. It would have really come in handy right about now. They had been sitting in his father's deserted home for around 43 hours now. The other two soldiers had passed out from blood loss, exhaustion or just plain fear without giving him any useful information about why they had attacked him and Claire, or where his father was. And to make matters worse, Claire hadn't stopped cursing at him and screaming at him the entire time he had been torturing them. She was giving him a headache. And Meredith...She just bored holes into him with her eyes. All in all, his day was not going very well.
"Are you going to tell me what you know?" Agent Simmons stared at him for a second, then spat at him. He heard Claire freeze behind him. He could practically smell the fear radiating off of her, the dread of his response. He smirked and leaned back, dragging his sleeve across his face and wiping the spit away slowly.
"Hmm, stubborn, aren't we?" He spat, flinging his arm down in a quick, solid movement. Both Claire and Agent Simmons flinched, and he hadn't actually done anything yet. Meredith just sat there in stony silence, trying to glare him down.
"Don't hurt him." Claire whispered into the silence of the room. Sylar spun around to face her. He mock gasped in horror.
"Oh no, I won't hurt him." He sneered. "I won't hurt the guy who just shot us up with tranqs and tried to capture us. Why would I possibly do that?" She growled at him, and a small smile blossomed on his face. It seemed that the cheerleader had grown claws."Just don't, okay? Please." Claire pleaded, green eyes earnest in the little light of the room.
He stared at her and leaned back against the wall. She would always be a puzzle, an unsolvable one for him. The guy had just attacked them, and she was begging him not to hurt the guy. He ran a hand through his hair. They should really stop her from hanging around Peter so much.
"Fine. I won't hurt him." Claire didn't like the way he had said that. "Really?" Claire asked, eyebrows raised.
Sylar smirked, and leaned over her chair. "No, Claire. I won't hurt him. Just someone else." He grinned and nodded towards the house opposite. The feeling of dread returned with full force. "Or anyone else." She added half-heartedly to her first plea, knowing full well it was no use.
He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows in mock fury. "Now, Claire, that wasn't the deal." He waved his arm and both Meredith and Agent Simmons were knocked out instantly. She glowered at him. "You are such a big bastard." Chuckling bitterly, he raised his arm. "I know." He replied simply, before waving his arm again. Claire felt a slight touch to the side of her head(no pain, remember?), and felt the world go hazy, before completely fading into darkness. Again.
Back in Japan...
Ando sighed and set his chopsticks back down on the black plastic bowl. "I need a ticket to Arkansas, Russellville." He explained for the third time in Japanese. "What do you mean you never heard of it?" He was really starting to lose his patience. He needed to find Hiro now. "Arkansas!Clinton..." He heard the dial tone. "Hello?" Ando sighed as he returned to eating his bowl of noodles. He'd try again later. Just as the phone hit the table, a strange and harsh wind blew, sending papers flying. It reminded him of someone...Nemesis.
He turned and there she was, right beside him. He gritted his teeth, frustrated. What was she doing here? How had she found him? Never mind. "Nemesis?"
"It's me." Daphne replied, trying for a smile but failing miserably. She couldn't help it; she was just so worried about Matt and...
"How did you find me?" Ando asked, interrupting her flow of increasingly darker thoughts.
"Hiro told me about your 'super-secret' hide-out." Daphne rolled her eyes, remembering Hiro's almost child-like excitement when he had told her about his and Ando's new 'batcave'.
Ando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Of course. Best way to keep a secret, tell everyone." He finally noticed the worry, the fear that was etched across her face. "Is something wrong?"
Taking a deep breath, she finally blurted it out. "It's Matt. He didn't some home last night. He didn't call." Looking almost wistful, she whispered, more to herself than to Ando, "He always calls."
It was then that Ando saw the faint reddishness around her eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them. Mistaking his pro-longed gaze for confusion, Daphne rolled her eyes and elaborated on her reason for being there. "I didn't know who else to turn to." She admitted, gaze falling downward. Ando frowned for a second, connecting all the dots.
"Wait, Hiro's missing also. He's kidnapped. Maybe the same thing happened with Matt."
Daphne's eyes widened. "I've got to find him." She breathed.
"I think he was taken to Arkansas." Ando supplied, remembering the phone call he had been on before Daphne/Nemesis had arrived.
"How do you know that?" Daphne asked, brown eyes narrowed.
"Because both Hiro and I have GPS trackers." The corners of Daphne's mouth lifted into a sardonic smile. "Of course you do."
Ando pointedly ignored her jab. "He's somewhere near Russellville, Arkansas. I was trying to buy a ticket to fly there."
Dahne paused for a minute, processing this information. "Why fly when you can run?" She grabbed the edge of his shirt, every intention to make a run for it(pun intended), when she remembered something.
"Wait, I have to show you something." She reached into her bag and pulled out the drawings she had found on Matt's desk yesterday. "I think Matt drew these." She said quietly, handing them over to Ando. "I think they're supposed to happen." Silently, Ando reviewed the drawings. The first one was really weird. It was the cheerleader kissing the brain man. The next one...He wasn't sure exactly what it was, it was just red with...Oh. They were bodies, covered in blood. He cringed. The third was a man with big glasses talking to a young boy, fire surrounding them. He saw the last picture and inhaled sharply. The woman in the drawing was unmistakably Daphne. She was wearing the exact same clothes, had the same white-blond cropped hair. In the picture, Daphne had two bullet holes with blood spurting out of them, right below her shoulder. She wore an expression of such agony that he winced.
"Do you still want to go?" He asked quietly. Without hesitation, Daphne nodded.
"Why?" He asked in the same quiet, serious voice. "I mean, knowing what you know...That you could possibly not come back from this, why?"
Daphne fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his intense gaze. "Because..." She took a deep breath. "That's what a hero does. They put their life on the line to save the people...The people they..." She whispered her next words so softly he almost didn't hear her. "Care about." She brushed a stray tear away from her face. "Besides," She continued, smiling sadly. "Matt did the same for me."
Ando stared at her for a second, before reaching out a giving her a big hug. Daphne stiffened in surprise before relaxing and returning the hug with a light squeeze. Daphne pulled away before putting her hands lightly over Ando's. "Just tell Matt for me, okay? Tell him that I cared about him, just in case I don't get to." Ando squeezed her hand lightly and said in the most mature voice Daphne had ever heard Ando or Hiro use, "I'll do everything in my power to make sure you do." Daphne gave him a small, sad smile. "Thank you." She whispered.
"私は非常にお会いできて光栄に思っていた." He said in Japanese before repeating in English. "I was very honoured to meet you."
"私も(me too)." She replied in Japanese. Ando's brow furrowed. "Wait, you know Japanese?"
She shrugged. "Only very little. I learnt a little after I met you and Hiro. I just wanted to make sure you weren't talking bad about me behind my back." She hopped up from the chair. "Come on." She tapped her foot impatiently, all emotional vulnerability gone from her face. "We're wasting time." Without hesitation, Ando grabbed her hand. The two of them became a blur as Daphne's feet began to move.
In Newark...
Luke stepped out of the car, watching curiously as yet another squad car pulled up outside Samson Gray's old house. He snorted. It's not like there was anybody in there. There hadn't been for months. And as far as he remembered, there hadn't been anything except creepy, stuffed, dead animals and dust in his house. He doubted many people wanted to steal that. Before he could finish this thought, his mom began to speak. He rolled his eyes as she launched into another speech. "Taxidermy. Never really liked that old man." She muttered. Luke rolled his eyes. His mom had always had a thing about Mr. Gray. She always went on and on about how she got a bad vibe off of him, or some other crap like that. Moms, he thought to himself as he grabbed the groceries from the back of the car. He ignored her and focused intently on Mr. Gray's house. Hmm...He wondered what was going on that they needed an ambulance there. "That's right." His mother's voice drifted back into his conciousness. "Take a good look. Because that's your future if you keep getting into fights at school." Luke felt like throwing the groceries at his mom. He had apologised; maybe a hundred times for yesterday. "Just hope a night in juvie taught you something."
"Yup, the foods great." He shot back, keeping his eyes focused on the pavement. Mary stopped short behind her son, wincing slightly. "Don't push it Luke." Mary warned, pushing her way past him and through the door. "Not after yesterday." Luke bit his lip to keep from retorting. Blessed silence fell for a few seconds before Mary finally burst out. 3,2,1...Luke counted in his head.
"Just tell me, why did you have to hit that kid?" And there it is. Luke shrugged. Because he called me a freakshow. And maybe he wasn't wrong.
Mary imitated the shrug, putting on her best; 'you're not fooling me' face. "What does that mean?" She asked as Luke heaved a big sigh. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She muttered, fumbling for her keys. Finally having found them, she turned to face him. "A shrug. Is that your answer for everything?" She obviously wasn't going to leave it alone till he gave her an answer. He put on his best, 'fine, I'll tell you face' and said in the sincerest voice he could muster, "He called you a whore." Mary paused, and gave him a long hard look before rolling her eyes and opening the door. "Get inside."
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Mary should've known something was wrong since the minute she stepped foot in the house. The TV was on, and she could've sworn she'd turned it off before going to pick Luke up from juvie, the chair's were all out of place and...There were three people sitting in front of the TV. She'd heard cases of this kind of thing before. "Call the police," She whispered to Luke, and she couldn't help the slight shake in her voice. She moved toward the fireplace, quietly and quickly, then grabbing a firepoker, she rounded on the 'intruders'. She almost dropped the firepoker when she saw who the 'intruders' were.
The first one was a blond-haired teenage girl, who looked utterly exhausted. The second one was an older woman who resembled the girl slightly, who's forehead was bruised slightly and unconcious. And the third one was...She gasped when she saw his condition. There were screwdrivers sticking out of his palms, and his face was bruised and bloody. And all three of them had their mouths duct taped shut and their wrists bound to the chairs. "What the hell..." She breathed.
The older woman and the man were still unconcious, but the younger one seemed to be trying to tell her something. She was straining against her binded hands, eyes wide with terror as she looked to the area behind Mary. Luke gasped as the phone he'd been using to call the police flew out of his hand and was smashed into smithereens against the wall. Mary spun around just in time to see a dark haired man emerge from the room behind her. "You're either Mary Campbell, or the current occupant." He held up a letter accusingly, grinning widely in a way that just seemed to scream; danger!
She held up the firepoker; poised to attack, but it flew out of her hands, joining the phone on the floor. The man smirked and moved his hand towards her and she gasped as something unnatural pushed her forcefully back into a chair. As she looked over at Luke, she saw the same thing had happened to him as well. What in hell's name was going on? She felt the fear build up in her stomache. She hadn't felt this scared since she found out she was pregnant with Luke, or since her ex had come home drunk with a baseball bat. Those had been the two worse days in her life...But, she had a feeling today was going to top both of those.
"We've been waiting for you." The man continued in a voice that sounded just as dangerous as his smile looked. Mary couldn't keep control of her voice anymore and questions flew out of her mouth before she could think of them.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" She asked, her question coming out as more of a shriek.
He chose not to answer her question, choosing instead to make his way over to the bloodied, bruised man and yanking off the duct tape that covered his mouth. Mary watched in horror as the man woke, gasping for breath and spitting out little droplets of blood. "Agent Simmons says hello." The man continued, smiling as the man came to. "His people trained him very well. He barely flinched when he lost a finger or two." Mary watched as the girl struggled with her bindings, glaring up at the raven haired man with hate burning in her eyes.
"The trouble is, he's got information that I need. So you," He glanced at Mary and Luke with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Are going to help me loosen his tongue."
The agent didn't look scared at all at this statement, more angry than anything. "Sick freak. You're going to torture me in front of them?" He spat, fire burning in his eyes.
"No." Sylar leaned down, until he was looking Agent Simmons right in the eye. "I'm going to torture them," He glanced at Mary and Luke, grinning. "In front of you." The glint in his eyes promised to follow through.
Somewhere in Arkansas, Russellville...
"Why the hell did you authorise an air strike?" Nathan yelled, over the noise of the helicopters. He looked over the still-burning piece of land, before turning back to face the current bane of his existence. He was really starting to regret hiring this 'Hunter' guy.
"It's standing protocol, Senator. I don't need your pemission." He turned away from Nathan, beginning to walk away. Nathan followed him, incredulous at his behaviour.
"Permission?" He yelled. "It's my operation!" This seemed to amuse Danko. "Not out here it isn't." He replied cooly as he walked to their control tent. "I've got civillians at risk. The second that crash happened, your prisoners were re-designated terrorists."
Nathan struggled to keep up with Danko's brisk walk. "You mean targets, right? Shoot to kill, that's your tactical, elegant solution?"
Danko stopped short and turned to face Nathan. "These people of yours are dangerous." Nathan shook his head.
"These people are going into custody. We're not assasins." Nathan argued.
Danko's eyes glittered dangerously. "You have a rabid dog, you don't put a chain around it's neck and pray for miracles. You put it down." Nathan sighed.
"I guess it's good we don't have a rabid dog, then." Nathan finally replied, voice low and commanding. "Do we?" The challenge in Nathan's eyes was clear.
Danko just rolled his eyes and turned away.
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Peter ran as fast as he could, looking back over his shoulder every now and then. He had to fine Parkman. Or Mohinder. Or someone. Anyone, really, who'd be willing to fight this with him. His eyes darkened. This was war.
"Peter?" He heard someone call from behind him. He skidded to a stop, and turned, only to find Tracy sitting on the dried, rocky forest floor.
He ran over, extending a hand to her. "Tracy, come on. We have to keep moving..." She cut him off. "I can't do this." Peter's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" He got on his knees, still glancing around furtively.
"I'm not some 'thing'." She moved her hands around her vividly, and Peter felt a surge of annoyance shoot through him. They didn't have time for this right now! "My life was finally getting back to normal." Peter cut her off immeditaely. "Okay, just stop. If you stay here, they will catch you." He got to his feet, extending a hand to her. "Now come on."
He turned but Tracy pulled him back. "Why? Why would Nathan do this to us?"
Peter shook his head. He'd stopped asking questions like that years ago. "I don't know. But we're going to find a way to stop him."
Tracy shook her head, panicking. "This is a nightmare," she muttered running a hand through her hair. Peter took a hold of her shoulders, shaking her gently. "You stay here, and he wins. You come with me and you can fight."
Tracy considered her options carefully. Neither of them sounded very appealing, to say the least. But she might be able to manipulate Nathan into letting her go if she stayed with Peter... So she put on her best, 'I'm scared' face and let Peter pull her through the forest. This was war after all.
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"Maybe these people can help us." Hiro whispered, crouching behind the rusty old truck. Mohinder gave him a slight nod, but Matt didn't respond at all. His eyes were still that scary shade of white, still glossed over and unseeing, and Mohinder was starting to get slightly worried. Before either of them could move, Matt got to his feet and moved toward the medium-sized trailer in front of them.
Matt moved toward Usutu, who, in his mind, was standing at the door of the trailer. He couldn't focus on anything else; something was begging him, calling him to move towards Usutu. He followed Usutu, inside the trailer, absentmindedly breaking open the door and not hesitating to climb into the trailer. Mohinder and Hiro followed him warily. "What is he doing?" Hiro whispered to Mohinder, eyes wide. "We're not thieves."
Mohinder sighed and tried to explain to Hiro what he understood, which was...Less than he'd like it to be. "The trance is compelling him. Let's just," He took a deep breath, "..Let him go."
Mohinder made a move towards the door, but before he could even touch it, it burst open, sending Mohinder jumping backwards with a start. In his hands, Matt was holding paper, and a box of markers. Opening the box with terrifying speed, Matt began to draw. Mohinder and Hiro peered over his shoulder nervously, unsure what to do and getting more nervous by the second.
"What should we do?" Hiro whispered to Mohinder, glancing nervously around the woods for any sign of the stormtroopers. Mohinder sighed, running his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. Then he spotted clothes. Real, not orange and waterproof clothes. "Come here." He motioned for Hiro to follow him, making a break for the clothes that were hanging out to dry.
Meanwhile, Matt's fingers were struggling to keep up with the images that were flying through his mind. It was so vivid, so real, that he couldn't be sure what was real and what wasn't. The only thing that seemed real in his mind was Usutu. "Focus, Parkman." Usutu ordered, directing his gaze back to the pen and paper in front of him.
"We need to blend in. Put these on." Mohinder tossed some jeans at Hiro. Hiro seemed to fight with his consience for a while, before finally grabbing the clothes from the rack. "I will take their address, send money later." Hiro announced decisively. Mohinder rolled his eyes as he pulled on a shirt, but couldn't help the smile that teased his lips. Hiro would forever be Hiro.
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Tracy watched as the soldier made his way carefully through the woods, mentally running over in her mind what Peter had told her to do. She was in this together with him...For now. She waited until he saw the unconcious soldier that she and Peter had laid carefully in position, and waited for him to run over to him before shaking the branches of the tree she was hiding behind violently, and making a run for it in the opposite direction. Peter would take care of the rest.
She felt the adrenaline in her bloodstream rocket up as she felt the man turn towards her, cocking his gun. She ran faster, moving back and forth between the trees. She heard a grunt and a thud, and turned to look behind her. She smiled when she saw Peter standing over the soldier. Success.
She ran back towards him, dropping to her knees beside him. "Thanks." She murmured, breathless. Peter didn't acknowledge her; he was too busy...She had no idea what he was doing. "What are you doing?" She asked as Peter rolled the guard over and removed his bulletproof vest.
"I'm going back. Find Nathan." Peter said, not looking at her. She didn't get him. He had refused to look at her since he convinced her to stay, and when he did, she always detected something that felt very much like scorn to her, buried deep in his eyes.
"What is your problem with me?" She asked, toying with her fingernails. Peter stopped short, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?" He asked, returning to his task.
"Since you're going off to get yourself killed, I thought I might as well ask you now." She stood up, putting her hands on her hips. Peter stood as well, eyes cold and distant. The chill in the air was obvious now. "Fine." Peter said after what seemed like a million years. "You're a manipulator. A user, just like Nathan. I tend not to like people like that." He turned away from her and continued removing the soldiers uniform.
"Fine, you don't like me, I get that. But how do you even know Nathan's here?" Tracy asked, dropping to her knees. Peter glanced at her briefly, re-assembling the soldier's gun and cocking it. "Nathan's here. He's probably sweating bullets." Peter smiled at the thought. "Trying not to show it. This whole program was his idea. It means that his ass is on the line. He's here." He finished.
Tracy was fiddling with the second soldier's phone. She briefly glanced up at him. "You go back, they'll kill you."
"You have a better idea?" This Peter wanted to hear.
"Maybe." She ignored Peter's condescending tone. She held up the phone. "I know Nathan too, and not like a brother. I know the way he thinks."
Peter snorted. "That's 'cause you slept with him." Tracy showed no shame, only grinning. "Yeah, that...And I think the same way."
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Daphne loved this feeling. The feeling of the wind rushing through her hair, the different landscapes that rushed by...This was what she wanted to be doing. Every single day. She jerked to a stop when she saw where they were. This was the place...The place where she...She turned to look at the fallen plane. She couldn't see Matt or Hiro, but that didn't mean they weren't here. What she did see was soldiers. Men in black. With guns. She gulped and crouched down beside the broken, damaged plane, beckoning for Ando to do the same.
"Soldiers." Ando breathed, echoing her thoughts. "What's going on?" He wondered aloud.
Daphne was wondering the same thing. It couldn't be just a coincidence that Matt and Hiro had been taken the same time, right? The question was, who was pulling the strings...The only person she knew of that had a beef against both Hiro and Matt was Arthur Petrelli...And he was dead...Wasn't he? She gulped at the thought of her personal nightmare man still being alive. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She didn't want to think of that now; she would not think of that scum-sucking lowlife at possibly her last moments on earth.
"I have no idea." She finally said, breaking the silence that had settled between her and Ando. Truer words had never been spoken.
Back in Newark...
Claire could feel her wrists going numb as she struggled against the bindings. She could already see the bright red lines that were forming against her wrists, but she didn't care. She could feel the rage burning through her. He really was a selfish bastard. She had wanted to find her real parents too. She hadn't gone around torturing innocent people, now had she? She was going to teach him a lesson. Not everything was about him.
She glanced at the exhausted man beside her. And who wouldn't be exhausted in his position? He had been tortured for hours, by Sylar, and he still had refused to give out any information. They should give him an award, she thought to herself. She glared as Sylar sauntered back into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He winked as he walked by her. Asshole. And to think she was actually beginning to feel sorry for him...Her temper boiled as she remembered his tortured eyes. Probably all some sick joke just to make her feel something for him...Even as she thought this, she knew it wasn't true, but she was just to angry to care.
"Agent Simmons..." Sylar waved the cup of coffee under the worn out agent's nose. The agent stirred but didn't wake. "..seems faitgued." He mused to Mary. Growing impatient, Sylar knocked on one of the screwdrivers that had been embedded deep into the agent's hands. He watched in amusement as Claire flinched. Agent Simmons cried out with each time he knocked. "You really need to pay attention." He singsonged, pressing hard on the screwdriver before stepping away, chuckling slightly as Agent Simmons came to. "You're father's in custody," He choked out, "You sick piece of crap."
Sylar's world shook and he snorted. "Another lie. Well, it's time to get started. Where to begin?" He pulled out a chair, trailing his finger upwards and pointing it at Luke. Claire let out a high pitched squeal as he did so, and all parties turned to look at her. "Claire, I know you're excited, but you'll just have to contain yourself." He drawled, smirking at her. She hated him. She hated him so damn much... Claire pulled harder on her bindings. There was no way in hell that she was going to let him do this. She could feel them loosening, if she could just...
He trailed his finger upwards, pointing it at Luke. He felt the boy shivering in his chair. He always got a high on the fear that came off of his victims. He twirled his finger in the other direction, resting it on Mary. "Mommy." He sat himself down in the chair, leaning back and taking a sip out of the mug. Ahhh... Mary stared at him in a mixture of disgust, fear and well, fear. "Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you?" She asked, begging for an answer as to why her perfectly ordinary, un-glamorous life had been interrupted.
Sylar took another sip of coffee, watching her carefully as he did so. "Nothing." He answered, shaking his head. "Wrong place, wrong time. I could have been a flood or a tornado." He shrugged. "There's really no difference, actually. How about you, Luke, any thought?" He called, glancing over at Luke. Luke merely gulped, keeping his mouth shut. Sylar grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I sense some..." He fumbled for thr right word. "..dysfunction in the Campbell household." Luke struggled to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to fry this guy into oblivion. Who the hell did he think he was? His mom chimed in, almost echoing what he had been going to say. "You bastard, you better leave him-" She felt something take control of her mouth, clamming it shut. Sylar smiled as he tightened his hold on her windpipe. She couldn't breathe, why couldn't she breathe?
"But I understand." He continued, like she'd never spoken. "Single mom, troubled teenage son, and judging from the pathetic alimoney check I found, I'd say Dad took off quite some time ago." He tightened his hold on her with each word. Mary was battling for air now, fighting against Sylar's hold on her, but it was no use. Her eyes widened and she turned to look at Luke, pleading with him to do something, anything.
"What are you doing to her?" Luke whispered, quaking with fear.
"Only what you wished you could have done years ago." Sylar's voice was lower and laced with malice. Claire could practically feel the anger coursing through him. This wasn't about them, this was about him.
"No, no, stop..." Luke pleaded weakly, but it sounded pathetic and false, even to his own ears. He wasn't lying though; not completely. No matter how much he and his mom fought... No. He wouldn't wish her dead.
"You're lying." Sylar said and Luke's eyebrows flew up. He wasn't! Sylar turned to Agent Simmons. "Agent Simmons, Mary is losing her patience. Isn't it your job to protect her from monster's like me?" Sylar pushed harder against Mary's windpipe. "He's not going to talk; let her go!" Luke pleaded, louder this time. Sylar's gaze flickered back to him, his generous brow quirking. "You say that 'cause you care, kid?" Sylar mocked, "Or is it just a pre-condtioned response 'cause mommy drew the short straw?" He turned back to Mary, pushing his telekinetic fingers harder around her neck. She rasped, trying to breathe. Strangled noises came from her throat and Luke began to panic. Claire pulled harder on her bindings, desperation clawing at her chest. She could swear they were looser now...Then Luke spoke.
"What do you know about me?" Luke asked, challenging Sylar with his cool gaze. Sylar studied him carefully. He hadn't thought the boy had it in him. Sylar smiled, taking a huge slurp of his coffee. "Mum's a drone, and Dad abandoned you. I know that rage, Luke. And I know that deep down, you'd like nothing more than to see her blood all over the living room floor." A muffled sound came from Claire, and both Luke and Sylar turned toward her. Her eyes were fixed on Sylar's, spitting fire at him. Sylar couldn't really hear what she was saying because of the duct tape, but it sounded like, "Get over yourself, asshole". He just grinned at her, before turning back to Luke. Mary's face had turned a pale, pale white and anyone could see that she was struggling to keep a hold on her conciousness.
Luke struggled with the telekenetic bonds that were holding him down. There was obviously no reasoning with this guy, he was bat-ass crazy. He would just have to show him how to back off. He forced his hand upwards, aiming it at Sylar's coffee mug. "Go to hell..." He grunted, as the mug shattered and the coffee exploded upwards. Okay, Sylar had to admit. He had not seen that one coming. Mary gasped for breath, his hold on her having been released. She glanced over at Luke, and Luke felt it. He felt the horror in her gaze, the judgement. This was exactly why he never told anybody."Well, well." A dark, dangerous smile bloomed on Sylar's face. "It's a small world." Oh crap, Claire thought to herself. This could not be good.
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Luke didn't even know why this guy was doing this. Why he didn't just kill him like he'd expected the guy to. He stared disbelievingly at the man as he placed one of Luke's old toy figurines on the table in front of him. "Show me." He commanded, his dark brown eyes daring Luke to contradict him.
Luke sighed, glancing at the purple figurine. Extending his hand out towards it, he glanced at Mary. She was staring at him anxiously, holding her breath. He wondered what her reaction would have been like without all this. He snorted. She'd probably have packed him away to some mental institution. Anger coursed through him and he felt waves of heat being emitted from his hands; the figurine was reduced to a puddle of goo. He glanced over at Mary again. The expression of horror was obvious now, nothing she tried to cover it up with later could deny that...But what Luke hated most was the fear. As if having this...Thing, made him a monster. It wasn't like he'd asked for it!
Turning to Sylar, he gave a small shrug. "Some stuff melts, some burns. Water boils." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "Kinda like a microwave."
Sylar nodded, eyes never leaving the melted figurine. He felt it. The need to understand, the need to take, burning at the back of his mind. However, it was somewhat supressed. Lowered, somehow. Manageable. And for some reason, he really didn't want to kill this kid. He reminded him, somewhat...Of himself. Different, special and yearning to be accepted by anyone and everyone. Thank god he had gotten over that stage. Well...Mostly anyhow.
"That's very impressive." He finally said.
"You should see what happens around pacemakers." A small, almost sadistic and most definitively evil grin settled on Luke's face.
Sylar's forehead wrinkled then smoothened. Not exactly the kind of thing he was into, but from one psychopath to another...It was a start. He gave a small sound of amusement.
Claire listened to the conversation carefully. This was going almost...Well. Luke's scalp was still in tact, so she was taking that as a positive side. She glanced over at Meredith. She was still out. Damn. If she could just burn through Claire's ropes, she could...She wasn't actually sure what she could do, but she could at least try to help these people. Beside her, Agent Simmons shifted in his seat, tugging at his hands and wincing as he tried to pull them out of the chair. Claire's mouth fell open. She almost couldn't remember what it felt like to feel pain anymore, but she was pretty sure tugging your screwdrived-into-a-chair-hand out of the chair, yeah, that was going to be painful.
Sylar's voice drifted back into her thoughts. "You know I heard you at the door." He was saying. "That kid you hit at school, he didn't call your mother a whore; you lied. You do that alot." Surprise and shock ran through her brain as she heard him say this. Did he actually care about this kid? That was so...Un-Sylar-like and more human; to empathise with someone.
Luke gave another disheartened shrug. "Why do you care?" He asked quietly.
"Because you live half a block down from my father, and if that's a coincidence, God's improved his sense of humor." Sylar leaned back against the wall behind him, studying Luke carefully as if he was a piece of fascinating machinery. One of Claire's binding popped loose and she carefully removed the duct tape from her mouth. Ahhh...That was so much better.
"You're wrong." Luke was quick to contradict him. "I'm no one." He hesitantly met Sylar's eyes. Sylar just stared at him, expression somewhere in between curiousity and disbelief.
"I'm not." He continued. "I don't have any friends." He sighed. "Shoplift stuff I don't even want. Sell my Ritalin to meth mouths at school." Sylar's world shook a second time, and he stepped closer to Luke, staring at him curiously. Why was he so determined to make himself out like a bad kid?
"Luke, stop!" Mary cried from her seat, obviously not wanting to hear anymore. And really, who could blame her?
"No, no, no. Don't worry." He rushed to 'comfort' Mary. "He's lying. At least about the drugs." Mary looked slightly relieved but still discomfitted.
Luke didn't look the least bit apologetic for his lies. He nodded towards his mother. "She hates me, you know." It was said matter-of-factly, no sadness or self-pity in his words, just yearning, again. Yearning for acceptance.
"No, I don't!" Mary protested, but it sounded so false even Mary didn't quite believe herself. She didn't hate Luke, she just hated the circumstances that they were living in right now. The life they were living.
Even though there was no tingle in the back of his head, Sylar knew she was at least half-lying. "Well, I don't even need an ability to know that that's a lie." He smirked, looking over at Mary. Mary didn't defend herself, just looked miffed and leaned back in her seat. He turned back to Luke. "She can see it in you Luke. What you can do." His voice was definitely lower now.
"No, she doesn't know about it." Luke's voice was softer than ever.
"I'm not talking about the power. I'm talking about you." Sylar said.
Meanwhile, Agent Simmons seemed to have managed to get one of his hands out of the chair. Both Mary and Claire winced as his bloody, mangled hand was freed. Then Claire saw his gaze fix on the gun that Sylar had confiscated. Sylar's voice blurred in her mind. If he got the gun, he could kill Sylar... And for some crazy, unthinkable reason, her heart stopped at the thought. And not in joy. In fear. Like Sylar was a person she actually cared about. Maybe it was because of the little boy in the photo she had seen, maybe it was because if Agent Simmons didn't manage to kill Sylar, he would die...Maybe it was even because she had (very, very)briefly enjoyed his company, but for any one of these reasons, or all of them, she couldn't allow Sylar to die. Yet.
"This is what scares them...What's in here." Sylar was saying as Agent Simmons struggled to free his other hand, and Claire struggled to free hers. "The will."
"I love my son." Luke saw a tired expression wash over Sylar's face as Mary interrupted him. "I just want him to be happy!" She insisted. "Well, he's not." Sylar glared at her. "You lie, Luke because you'd rather be anyone else other than yourself." The understanding flowed through Sylar, followed by that oh-so-wonderful power surge, this time not fueled by a kill, but by his newly found empathic mimicry. "That's why you got into that fight. That kid could be dead with your ability, the only reason he's alive is because of your kindness and that scares you." Meredith chose this moment to wake. "What's going on?" She mumbled groggily, but was shushed by both Claire and Agent Simmons at the same time. Agent Simmons pulled his remaining hand out of the chair the same time Claire did hers and lunged forward for his gun. Agent Simmons grabbed his gun, and was about to shoot Sylar when Claire lunged forward, tackling him to the ground. "Hey, watch out!" She heard Luke yell, then felt something warm bubble through her body. Her vision starting to blur, she could only make out Mary's screams of 'Luke, what are you doing?!" and Meredith yelling, and something penetrating her stomache. As her vision started to fade, she saw one face standing over her; a puzzled expression etched on his face. "Sylar..." She murmured, as her vision went completely black.
Back in Russellville, Arkansas...
Nathan leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. God, it was hot out here. So far, most of the Specials had been detained, except for Peter, Tracy, Matt, Mohinder, Hiro, Flint Gordon and someone called Sparrow Redhouse and a few others. He rubbed his forehead, trying to relieve the massive migraine that was plagueing him. He hadn't had a bit of good news all day. His thoughts went to Claire. He gritted his teeth. Apparently, the team that had been sent to retrieve Sylar and Claire had been 'disbanded'. He didn't know exactly what that meant, and wasn't sure he wanted to. Maybe he should have sent Noah...His phone rang, jolting him out of his dark thoughts.
"Petrelli." He answered automatically, flipping it open.
"Nathan, it's me." Tracy's voice rang over the phone. He clutched the phone tighter to his ear. What the hell...
"You need to give yourself up now." He replied with urgency, thinking of Danko. If that psycho found her, he'd probably shoot her on sight.
"Why?" She asked. "Why do that when I have a way of getting exactly what I want?"
"This isn't a negotiation. You don't have anything that I want." And thank god for that.
"I have Peter." Tracy said, glancing over her shoulder and the floppy-haired, superman wannabe.
Shit. Nathan slammed his fist down on the makeshift table in front of him. He took a deep breath, sighing.
"Okay, I'm listening." He gritted out. This was a really sucky break-up conversation.
"I get my life back." Tracy comanded, her chest feeling lighter even as she said the words. "I give you Peter, my part in this gets written off as 'never happened'. I go back to my apple martinis and overpaid lobbyists." She waited apprehensively for Nathan's reply.
"How do you wanna do this?" Tracy smiled. She knew he'd bite.
"Mile marker 47. There's an old historical site near the road. Three hours." She paused before adding, "And come alone. If I even see one pair of boots...Peter becomes a very big icicle."
Nathan squinched his eyes chut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No tricks. You can trust me,Tracy." Tracy snorted before hanging up. As if. He was the last person she would trust right now. She turned and almost jumped in shock when she saw Peter standing right behind her. She struggled to keep a neutral face. "He's on his way." She finally said, burying her hands in her jacket pocket. Peter nodded, face as stony as ever.
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"You lost your ability?" Mohinder asked incredulously as he pulled on the ill-fitting shoes. "How?"
"It's complicated." Hiro frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"And unfortunate." Mohinder added. "From what I heard, it would have been quite useful today."
"It wasn't my fault," Hiro muttered, bundling up the hideous orange clothes in his hands and looking around for a place to hide them. Aha! He rushed forward, burrowing the clothes in the empty mini-igloo. "Now even Ando has a power. But he has no idea how to be a hero." Hiro remarked, remembering his and Ando's earlier argument.
"Then your friend Ando should stay as far away from here as possible." Mohinder said firmly. "And so should you." Hiro frowned and turned to face Dr. Suresh, a deeply perturbed expression on his face.
"You think I should leave?" Hiro asked, distraught. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.
"Find a policeman, turn yourself in." Mohinder ordered.
"No." Hiro rebuked, standing his ground. That was a coward's way out. And Hiro knew, there were many things that could be said about him; but a coward was not one of those things. "It is my duty. I must help my friends."
"Not any more." Mohinder jerked to his feet, moving towards Hiro. "If you tell them your powers are gone, they may let you go." Mohinder really didn't want to see something bad happen to Hiro. He was one of the most genuine, optimistic people Mohinder had ever met in his life. His outlook on life was different, better, than most people's.
"Surrender? Never." Hiro dissmissed it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Mohinder gave a bitter chuckle. He was also one of the most stubborn. "I am a warrior." Hiro said, in a serious voice Mohinder had never heard him use before.
"This is not your fight anymore, Hiro." Mohinder said firmly. "Save yourself while you still can." And with that, Mohinder turned away to go check on Matt. Hiro stood there, frozen in place for a while, analyzing what Mohinder had said. He was wrong. Even if he didn't have powers right now, this would still be his fight. It would always be his fight. Powers or no, he would always be one of them.
Matt came to, staring at the pictures on the table. "Hey," He muttered non-committedly to Mohinder over his shoulder. The pictures on the table were confusing. Utterly confusing. However, there was only one that interested him right now. The rest could wait. It was a picture of Daphne sitting on a park bench somewhere with Ando. Daphne's arm was in a cast, but other than that, she looked fine. He sank back into his seat, sighing in relief. She was going to be fine. His mind flashed back to the picture he had drawn at home, and his mind began to panic once again. No, he had to go save her!
He heard Mohinder asking him questions but they rolled right over his head. Not now. Nothing was important right now, except her. He found his legs moving at an unnatural speed, propelling him forwards towards Daphne. "Those men will kill you!" Mohinder was shouting. "I'm not going to leave her!" He yelled back, not stopping. He wasn't going to leave her.
Back in Newark...
Claire blinked, opening her eyes warily. There had been lots of yelling. Screaming too. Where was she?
Then it all came back. Sylar...Meredith...Luke...Shit! Agent Simmons! She pushed herself up from the floor with surprising strength, jumping to her feet. No one seemed to notice. All eyes were focused on the wall behind her. Slowly, she turned, scared of what she would see.
Sylar was holding Agent Simmons against the wall telekinetically, his hand raised in his all-to-familiar pose.
"Sylar?" She asked shakily, hoping to distract him from what he was doing long enough to figure out what the hell she could do to salvage the situation. She couldn't believe this. Only Sylar could make her regret saving him in less than five minutes. Sylar didn't move from his position, just drawled, "Oh good. You're awake."
"Sylar, let him go." She pleaded, stepping closer to him. He flinched, his shoulders tensing.
"He tried to kill me, Claire. He shot you." Sylar said, eyes darkening. Claire glanced down at her shirt. It was stained with blood. She felt a pang in her heart. She had gotten shot, and she hadn't even known. Her anger at Sylar shot up, remembering what he had stolen from her.
"Well, it's not like I noticed that, did I?" The sharpness in her voice could cut through steel.
Sylar let out a bitter chuckle. "It's the thought that counts."
Claire lost it. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid to save him! What the hell had she been thinking?
"That is it! Could you just stop this?" Claire yelled. "Not everything is about you! You can't just walk around destroying other people's lives just to make yourself feel better! You're acting like a spoilt idiot, like a child who didn't get the toy in the window! Get your head out of your ass, and act like a man!" Claire stopped her rant, catching her breath. The room was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop. Sylar turned slowly to face her, his eyes cold, but his lips were twitching upwards in a small smirk. "Are you quite done?" He asked in an amused voice.
Claire folded her arms. "That depends. Are you still going to kill him?" Sylar's eyes seemed conflicted for a moment, before relaxing. He turned back to Agent Simmons, who was holding his breath. Sylar raised his palm once more, slamming him backwards into the wall one last time. "That depends, Claire. If he tells me who sent him, in the next five seconds, or where my father is; I'll let him live. If he doesn't..It's such a shame." Sylar grinned evilly. Claire beseeched Agent Simmons with her eyes, but he just closed them, leaning back against the wall defeatedly. "Five..." Sylar began.
Claire glanced desperately around the room, begging anyone, anyone, to say something, anything, that would save Agent Simmons life. Sylar was already at 3!
"Sylar, don't you dare do this!" Claire screamed, lunging towards him. Sylar stepped out of her way, easily dodging her uncalculated move.
"Claire, it's not my fault if he doesn't want to live, now is it?" Sylar asked with the same dangerous smirk on his face.
"Two." Sylar's eyes darkened. Claire's heart beat faster.
"One." Sylar raised his hand and Claire sunk to the floor. Sylar raised his infamous finger when a voice called out, "Wait!" Sylar turned towards Luke with interest.
"Yes?"
"I know where your father is."
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These chapters...I swear their going to kill me...Sorry about splitting up the chapter again, but I'm going back to school in 2 days, which means;
1. My updates will be much slower:(
2.I have absolutely no time to finish this chapter right now:(
But, I swear, I will update as fast as I can. Thank you to all those who are following this story, seriously, so touched! And as always, you have to check out Purple Lex, julyisfree, cerberus angel, Anei and PensAreAwesome...Go and discover their awesomeness:) And if you could leave a review, that would be great;)