Building 26, 3x15
The war has just begun...
I'm gonna fight 'em off
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right behind my back
And I'm talkin' to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
Behind a cigarette
And the message comin' from my eyes says leave it alone...
Don't wanna hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone knows about it
From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell
And if I catch it comin' back my way
I'm gonna serve it to you
And that ain't what you want to hear
But that's what I'll do
~Seven Nation Army, The White Stripes~
Costa Verde, Bennet House...
You don't have to be Special to be
a hero. Warn Alex. Government agents coming
to get him. Sams Comics on Buford. He's like
your sister. GO NOW.-REBEL
Lyle stared at the screen. What the hell? What was going on? He glanced across the table at his dad, who was shovelling cereal into his mouth like it was a lifeline. His mom was fawning over Mr. Muggles, as per usual. "Hey dad, where did you say Claire was again?" Lyle asked casually, gripping his phone tightly under the table.
"She's staying at her grandmother's house in New York." Noah's faced tensed slightly when he said this, before relaxing. His grip on his spoon stayed unnaturally tight.
"Right..." Lyle glanced down at the message. "Well, I'm just going to, you know..." He pushed his chair back and made a mad dash for his room.
Govertment agents? He typed back urgently. What's going on? Is Claire okay?
His phone beeped half a second later. I think you should talk to your father about this. WARN ALEX FIRST. HE IS IN DANGER.-REBEL
Lyle ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. Why was his family always stuck in the middle of these things? He groaned at the ceiling and grabbed his driving license, a pair of sunglasses and a hat from his table. It was what Claire would do.
"Hey mom," He called as he ran back down the stairs, "do you mind if I use the car for a while? My friend Justin has this new video game and I have to check it out." He begged her with his eyes. Sandra rolled her eyes at him.
"Sure." She searched her bag for a while, trying to locate her keys. She pulled them out of her bag with gusto. Lyle reached for them, but Sandra held them out of his reach. "First..." Lyle held his breath, "have you done your homework?" Lyle rolled his eyes. Typical.
"Yeah, sure, I'm done." He impatiently held out his hand for the keys. She handed them to him, grinning. "Good boy. Be back home by 7." Lyle nodded, practically running out the door. He might be too late already.
Somewhere in Arlington...
Claire pushed herself up to a sitting position, blinking. She was in a bed. She tried to remember what had happened yesterday... Her mom dropped by, smashed her heart to pieces...She gritted her teeth, remembering. She had ran off, cried to herself in the parking lot... She winced. She had spilled her guts. To Sylar. Great. Just perfect. She always did stupid things like that when she was upset. Then something occured to her. If she was in the bed, where was Sylar?
She glanced around the room, searching for the dark haired man. Her lips quirked up when she saw him. He was curled up on the couuch, obviously uncomfortable, his legs hanging over the edge of the sofa. He'd let her have the bed. How...Sweet of him. She grimaced, then grinned ruefully. Sweet and Sylar didn't mix. At all.
She got off the bed, making sure not to make a sound as she padded over to the dirt-ridden bathroom. Quickly stripping down, she stepped into the stream of freezing cold water, shivering uncontrollably as she did so. With shaking hands, she rubbed the cheap-smelling soap onto her body and weaved the miniscule amount of shampoo into her hair. She washed it off, then slowly wrapped the paper-thin towel around her, still shivering in the cold air. She stuck her head out of the bathroom, grabbing the bag of new clothes from the floor. It would be so good to wear something that didn't smell faintly like foot.
Sylar was dreaming.
The girl smiled infuriatingly at him.
"Hey bad boy," She grinned at him, her teeth sparkling in the light.
"Elle," He breathed. His eyes narrowed. "You're dead..."
She nodded. "True, but I still exist in your mind.." She cackled, a sound that irritated his ears. "And I always will." The look in her eyes was evil.
He didn't say anything, just glared at her from his seat on the couch. Where was he again? Oh yes, at that motel with Claire and Luke. Elle paced around the room, tapping her fingers on her chin. "Nice to see you found someone to replace me." She sat on the edge of Claire's bed, grinning at him ruefully.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" She stated absentmindedly. "She looks like me, kind of. Except she's the total opposite, of me, of you." She smirked. "So pure, so ripe, just bursting with potential..." Sylar twitched, but he wasn't sure why. "She should be damaged, by all the things you've done to her. But she's not." Elle's smirk grew wider. "And that scares you. And she's the only person you've actually felt guilty for...Other than me and your mom, of course.." She snorted. "What a loony-bin she was." Sylar twitched again. "And that scares you too. She makes you feel..." Elle breathed. "Probably why you killed me." She shrugged. "What are you going to do with this one?" She gestured to the still sleeping blond. "You can't kill her," She grimaced, "Unfortunately." She crossed her legs and gazed at him curiously. "So what are you going to do with her; with them?" She raised an eyebrow at Luke.
Sylar slumped against the seat. "I have no idea."
Building 26, Washington D.C.,
Danko pinned a picture of Peter to the board that was already covered in photos. He gave a small, satisfied smile. He was pretty confident that they were going to catch these...Abominations..The only ones he thought were going to be a problem was Senator Petrelli's brother, and this Sylar too. He remembered Agent Simmons bloodied and bruised face, and the broken state of the rest of his men that he had sent after them. He was definitely going to be a problem.
He turned to address the room.
"Wires are up, accounts are frozen and we have traffic cam feeds from all 50 states. The Patriot Act gives us alot of leeway here." He swivelled around, making sure he got eye contact with all of them.
"What's our status on this Sylar guy?" One of his better researchers asked, twiddling his pencil and swivelling on his chair to look at Danko. Danko grimaced. "No leads yet, we're regrouping later today."
Nathan watched this with a frown on his face. Sylar was going to be a problem, that much was obvious. And no leads on Sylar meant no leads on Claire. Maybe they shouldn't have kept Peter in the dark about what had happened. He would have been able to save her... Probably, anyway. He wasn't so sure now, because now Peter was down to one power, making it a less than fair fight. He pondered this, letting Danko's words fly past his ears... Until he heard Danko say; "We bring them down. One way or another." This was when he decided to step in.
"No." He felt the entire room turn towards him. "Not one way or another." He could feel eyes boring holes into his skin. "We will bring them in, we don't take them down. As I have mentioned before to Mr. Danko," he shot a glare at the man, "we are not assasins. We take them in without casualties, as far as possible. We use tranqs, not bullets." He paused. "Are we clear?" He asked, in a tone that was meant not to be argued with. The room was silent, and the tension was so thick that Nathan was surprised that he could move. He flashed a cold, shark-like smile. "Good."
"Now," he continued in a lighter tone, "our targets know their being pursued, which means that their going to be that much harder to catch. So I put in a request to the White House this morning to double our funding." He inserted another shark-like smile here. "Your job is simply to hunt them, track them, and bring them home," his eyes settled on Danko's, "alive."
Building 26...
Daphne's eyes fluttered open. Jeez, why did that hurt so much. She moaned, clutching at the skin above her left arm, just slightly below her shoulder. She yelped as her fingers made contact with the wounded skin. She threw her head back, gasping at the sensation of the pain that sizzled across her shoulder. She felt like the skin was on fire. And why was it so cold? Her movements were slowing, something that truly sent her into a panic. She felt like... She bit her lip, tasting blood as she tried to focus on something else other than the pain that seared in her left arm. She took a deep breath, trying to gather herself and figure out what the hell was going on.
Her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to gage where she was. The room was unfamiliar, hospital-like, but not quite. It's facilities were more run-down than any hospital's and the thin, rusting metal that coated the walls were peeling. Hardly hospital standards. She had spent enough time in hospitals to know. The pounding in her head and shoulder was making it hard for her to focus. She felt dizzy, and was her skin hot? She had been shot, right? So why did it feel like she had a really bad case of the flu?
She peeked down at the wound, before flinching and looking away. The skin around the bullet holes were raw, mangled, and by the look of things, it hadn't been treated. She glanced around the room for anti-septic cream, iodine, anything. She remembered faintly her mom telling her once, after she'd fallen and scraped her knee, that you always had to clean your wound, no matter how small or big, or there'd be an infection. She closed her eyes, blinking back tears. She hadn't thought about her mom in a while.
The door of the room she was in creaked open. Daphne shut her eyes immediately, pretending to be unconcious.
"Do you want me to treat her?" A woman's voice asked, unsure and nervous.
"No." There was no sympathy in the man's voice, but it wasn't cruelty either; it was just cold and hard. "Leave her."
Daphne was finding it increasingly hard to focus, her mind was blurring. The cold air pressed her mind inwards, and she succumbed to it, head pounding and skin burning as she fell into a restless slumber.
Angela's hands closed around the thin Egyption cotton sheets, her fingers leaving indentations as she pressed down on them.
The street was filled with people. Men in black armour on one side, and Peter, Matt Parkman and a curly haired boy on the other. Nathan was in the middle, trying to keep the two opposing sides apart. Kirby Plaza was alive with screams, yells and battle cries. And then she saw it; that change in what she'd been seeing for weeks. A small, blonde-haired girl whizzing into the center of the action, hand in hand with Ando Masahashi and Hiro Nakamura. She squinted, her eyes narrowing. She was sure she'd seen the same girl get shot... The scene changed.
A dark haired man, standing on the edge of a dark abyss. Sylar. His face was stone, painted with grief and an unnameble anger. He looked...Wild. Uncontrolled. Which was unusual. Then there was a flash of lightning, and a familiar blonde-haired girl appeared beside him, pleading with him and tugging him away from the edge. He succumbed to her as she pulled him away. Angela moved through the endless fog, trying to catch a glimpse of this nameless girl. Through the mist, fog and darkness, she caught a glimpse of blue-green eyes, and again, that oh-so-familiar blond hair. Angela froze, her mind working overtime. Claire.
Angela gasped as she woke, sitting up straight, her hands still tangled in the sheets. Her breathing slowed, but her fear remained. The game had changed. A new piece had been revealed. A dusty old chest board flashed through her mind as she remembered a game she and Arthur had played a long time ago. A younger version of Arthur pushed a piece across a gleaming chessboard.
Arthur smiled to himself as he replaced her knight with his bishop. Something gleamed in his eyes. "Bishop takes knight."
Check.
New Dehli, India...
Hiro glanced at the picture of the sketch Matt had drawn on his phone. It was almost exactly the same as the scene in front of him. An expression of childlike glee lit up his face from the inside.
"This is it, Ando." He announced, grinning. "The same towers, the same wedding canopy... The exact spot from Matt Parkman's drawing." He breathed in, taking in the scent of Indian spices and fresh morning air. "Now, all I have to do is save the bride, and stop the wedding."
Ando looked supremely unenthused. More so than usual. Hiro took in his friend'd dark spots under his eyes. He reached out, patting Ando's shoulder. Nemesis... He swallowed. She had become a casualty of war. He bit back the small wave of tears that came to his eyes. It made him more determined than ever to be a hero.
Ando had told him about his promise to Nemesis. Ever since that day in Arkansas, Ando had seemed drained. Devoid of emotion, and just tired and worn out. He remembered that feeling. It was how he had felt after Charlie... He stopped, not wanting to think about the sweet, ginger-haired girl.
"Ando," Hiro said in a quieter voice, "Nemesis was a hero too." Ando gave him a weak smile.
"Hiro..." He started in Japanese. "I..." Words seemed to fail him. It was just the reality of the situation was hitting him, so fast. Daphne had died. Nemesis was dead. There would be no more hearing Hiro's increasingly animated conversations with her on Friday night's, no more hearing her bemused voice drift over the other end of the phone. An actual person that he'd actually known; was just gone. Poof. And he'd let her down. He hadn't managed to get her to Matt. He had tried saving her, had gotten shot in the process. His left arm throbbed as a reminder. It didn't matter in the end; he'd had to leave her, or they'd have both died. He snapped back to focus.
"Never mind." He gave Hiro a forced smile. Hiro gave him a sad smile, clapping him on the shoulder once more. "This is crazy, you know?" He gestured to the foreign street around them.
"Well," Hiro started, his characteristic, highly enthusiastic voice back, "if there's one thing I've learned is that when destiny calls, you answer the phone!" He held up his phone to demonstrate. Ando rolled his eyes, grabbing the phone from him and peering at the sketch.
"I'm going to check what time the wedding starts." He announced, pausing before clarifying. "So I won't be late to stop it." Ando's eyes rolled skyward as Hiro rushed by him before he could say anything. Oh Hiro... He thought as he rolled his eyes before turning to follow his friend. "Stop a wedding..." He muttered to himself. "It makes no sense..."
As he turned, he saw an attractive, Indian woman exiting the wedding tent. The bride! His eyes widened and he turned back to the photo of the sketch in Hiro's phone, just to be sure. Yup, that was her. And without another thought, he followed her.
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Ando followed the bride into a grand hall. It was covered in different flowers, red and orange cloth... Wedding gifts lined tables. The woman seemed troubled, and sad as she gazed at the elaborately decorated cake, wiping away a tear.
Ando stepped forward, and she glanced at him. He smiled re-assuringly, and stepped closer.
"Hello," he took another step towards her. "Hi," he repeated, "my name is Ando."
The woman smiled, wiping away another stray tear. "I'm sorry," she apologised, "Annapoora."
"Annapoora?" He repeated, unsure if he was pronouncing it correctly. She nodded, smiling weakly.
"Your name sounds familiar. Are you a guest of the groom?" She asked, playing with a flower petal on the table. Ando shook his head, smiling.
"No, not exactly." He peered at her, concerned. "Are you okay?"
Annapoora shrugged, looking away. "Just a little sad, that's all." She smiled, her eyes faraway as she rubbed at her eyes.
"On your wedding day?" He asked, intrigued by the strange, beautiful woman. He walked round to her. "But this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, isn't it?"
Annapoora laughed somewhat bitterly, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. "Yeah," she nodded, "that's what they say." She look ed extremely sceptical at this piece of knowledge.
Well, might as well get right to it, Ando thought, before saying firmly, "Then you must call of the wedding." The shock on her face registered, followed by extreme confusion. He was familiar with this expression. It was the same expression many people held when Hiro started talking. Am I becoming Hiro? He wondered briefly, before snapping back to reality. Annapoora was blinking at him, like she'd just only registered that he was there.
"This is incredible..." Her voice shook.
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Building 26, Washington D.C.
"Abby Collins." A tall, brunnette woman with a cold smile held out a hand toward Nathan. Danko knew at that instant, by the look in her eyes... She was going to need some extra convincing. And he could tell by the tension in Petrelli's shoulders, that he knew it too...
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"The White House has transferred oversight of you operations to DHS." She said, her tone as smooth as a practiced politician. Nathan winced. She was going to be... Difficult.
"I'm here to kick the tires and find out what it is we bought." Very difficult.
"Just what we need." He heard Danko say behind him. "Another bereaucat." Nathan's smile tightened and so did Abby's. He had the strongest urge to right-hook the man across the face. Nevertheless...
"Can I give you a tour?" He asked, forcing a smile. Abby nodded, her face unreadable. He walked her toward the doors, away from Danko.
"I don't know how fully briefed you are on what's happened here, but the last few days have made it painfully clear to me that Eagle Rock Prison is woefully inadequate to our needs." If he had been paying attention, he would have seen the sceptical look that crossed over Abby's face. He didn't see it, but Danko did.
"The reason I've asked for such a large funding increase is to reinforce the facility so I can deal with these prisoners." He moved to open the door.
"Right, because their all... magic." The sarcasm in her tone was painfully clear. Nathan froze in place, turning towards her with narrowed eyes.
"You don't believe any of this, do you?" He asked, leaning against the door. Abby raised her gaze defiantly, her lips pursing.
"Who put you on this assignment, exactly?" He asked, folding his arms. He could see Danko watching them out of the corner of his eye. The last thing he needed was another one of his smart-ass comments.
"People close to the President are concerned about his exposure on this." Abby's lips grew thinner. "Time travellers? Mind readers?" Her sceptism was obvious.
Nathan swung the door shut, sighing. "We are dealing with a threat the likes of which this country has never seen before." This was true, although he knew that he just sounded like he watched Communion too many times.
"We need better containment," he continued, ignoring her disbelieving gaze, "I can barely handle one detainee..."
She cut him off, eyes wide. "Are you telling me you're keeping a prisoner here, " her tone was incredulous, "without warrant and Miranda rights?"
The pause that hung between them for a few seconds longer than it should have was enough for her to catch on.
"I'm going to need to speak to the President directly." He said, avoiding her gaze. He edged around her, and she stared at the door for a moment in disbelief. He was just crazy if he thought she was going to let that happen.
She turned to face him, as he walked briskly away from her. "Well, that's not going to happen."
He turned to face her slowly, the look in his eyes similar to a small child denied something he wanted. She took a step closer to him, her hands on her hips and her eyes spitting fire. In contrast to her demure curls and rose-coloured lipstick, she had an expression that could scare off a pitbull. Nathan forced himself not to flinch.
Her words were slow and they burned into him. "I'm your new boss, and I want to see your prisoner..." her eyes glinted dangerously, "..now."
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Danko was quick and methodic about it. It was easy, really, with his clearance. He just snuck in, made the screw a little looser... A piece of cake. Strauss didn't even know, she had been out cold when he came in. It was all for a good cause. The greater good... To rid the world of all these... His lip curled distastefully. Freaks.
It really was too bad that he couldn't see that the last shreds of his sanity would be rid with them.
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The air smelt warm and damp, and she could smell the sweat that was becoming slightly rancid. Abby's eyes widened as her skin took in the heat that surrounded the room. She had just stepped in and she was already starting to sweat.
A woman with long, blonde-hair and lithe arms and legs was chained to a metal chair in the middle of the room, in front of 5 huge lights with heat radiating from them. Her body was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. The metal chains that clung to her wrists must be burning her by now.
"Oh my god." Abby breathed.
"I know. It looks harsh, but..."
"Abby?" Tracy peered over her shoulder, tugging against the chains.
Nathan's stomach dropped. He had a very, very bad feeling about this.
Abby's eyes widened. "This is Tracy Strauss." Her voice was hollow. She turned towards Nathan, her eyes almost the size of saucers.
"You know her?" Nathan's fists clenched and unclenched.
"She used to lobby for a defence contracter." Abby peered worriedly at Tracy, as if trying to match her to the woman she had met so many years looked so different without the pearls and that confident, surefire smile.
"Abby, they won't let me out of here. You have to do something." Tracy pleaded, her eyes wide with hope, completely ignoring Nathan.
"What is this insanity?" Abby asked him, searching his eyes for any plausible explanation.
"This woman is extremely dangerous." He said, shaking his head and looking grim, as if that would explain everything.
Tracy rolled her eyes at him. She was going to win this one. "Abby, he's lying. You know me."
"This woman is Tracy Strauss and you have her shackled to a chair." She looked at the chains that Tracy wore in horror, as she could hardly believe the entire thing was real.
Nathan put his hands in his pockets, his mouth set into a grim line. He was losing control of the situation. "That's why we need better funding."
"Funding?" Abby looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm shutting this operation down today, and then I'm going to the AG's office and I'm filing human rights violations against you, Senator."
Nathan's frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to argue, but she was determined to finish this.
"This is torture." She hissed. "You're through." Abby pushed open the doors, needing to get out of the room. She couldn't be here right now, she needed to take action now, before he used that silvertongue of his to convince her otherwise. She ignored Tracy's calls of panic as she left the room. She'd get her out of this soon enough.
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"This is so cool." Claire put her fingers over her ears, trying to push down the urge to punch Luke in the face. She could see by the tension in Sylar's shoulders that he was fighting down the same urge, only something much more brutal. She leaned forward from the backseat, switching off the radio. The rock music Luke had insisted on was giving her a headache.
Sylar had been in a bad mood since he'd gotten up. He was quiet, which was unusual for him, and the look he'd sent Luke when the boy had told him to just keep heading west reminded her of a lion who was poised to attack. Not good.
"Road trip. My mum never took me anywhere." Claire studied Luke, wondering if he had pieces of his brain missing. Sylar looked like he wanted to kill him right on the spot.
"We should stop at some skanky diner somewhere and get some pie and some milkshakes." Luke looked positively ecstastic at the idea.
"We're not stopping." Sylar said, eyes stony and completely focused on the road.
This didn't seem to phase Luke. "Sure?" He glanced out of the window, a smug smile colouring his face. "It's a long way to your dad's."
Sylar's jaw twitched. "Where is he?" He asked, in a tone lower than usual. Warning bells started going off in Claire's head. Sylar spun the wheel around and they screeched to a stop by the side of the road.
He flung out his hand, and an invisible force glued Luke to the car window.
"Sylar!" Claire reached forward toward him, but he batted her hand away like she was a fly. Flicking his hands, she found herself pinned to her seat.
"You should've worn a seatbelt." He chuckled darkly, as she struggled to free herself.
His eyes darkened and he turned toward Luke. "You told me to keep heading West. Now I want to know exactly where he is."
Luke didn't show a trace of fear. "Okay." He replied steadily.
Sylar's brow furrowed. He hadn't really expected it to be that easy.
"He told me that if he ever had to disappear, I could find him in Minnesota. He's got a cabin, in the woods, about 28 miles west of..."
Sylar heard that familiar bell tolling in the back of his head. He snarled, flinging him back against the window.
"You're lying." He growled.
Luke just smiled, almost adoringly. Claire felt sick. "It's amazing how you can do that." He grinned to himself.
Now Sylar really appeared to be losing his patience. "Tell me where he is." This time it was quieter. Scarier, somehow.
"Okay, okay." He lifted his hands up in surrender. "He had an ex-wife who lives in Des Moines. They had a kid who was born with some kind of weird bone disord-" He choked on his words as Sylar's invisible hands seemed to press down on his throat. Claire could see a faint reddish outline appearing on Luke's neck.
"Stop lying to me." Sylar gritted out, pressing him further back into the seat.
"You...Can just..." Luke choked out, "stop right now...because I'm not going to tell you anything..." He gasped as the force on his neck increased, "'cause if I do...You'll...Kill me.." His voice was hoarse and forced but he still wore that annoying little smirk on his face. He knew he'd won.
Sylar released him with a growl, his forehead scrunched up in a scowl. His frustration was obvious, but he knew that this time, the little squirt had him beat.
He leaned back into his seat, hitting the horn to vent his frustration. He left a dent in the steering wheel, and Claire winced.
"We'll stop at the next diner." He said gruffly, screeching back onto the road. Claire surpressed a small smile, and Luke grinned. The kid was smart, she'd give him that. He was growing on her.
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"This is what I'm talkin' about!" Luke's obnoxiously loud voice crowed as they pulled up in front of a roadside diner. Claire rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but grin when she saw the annoyance that flashed in Sylar's eyes as he got out of the car. Here was the big, bad monster, and he had to listen to a kid slightly more than half his age. She chuckled to herself as she got out of the car.
"Something funny, Claire?" Sylar drawled, smirking as he locked the car, Luke trailing ahead of them.
"Hilarious." Claire smirked up at him. "I think it's just wonderful that you have to take orders from Luke, some high school kid who you picked up by the side of the road." She grinned up at him, and surprisingly, the grin was easy, and she found she didn't have to force it.
He scowled down at her grinning face. "Careful, Claire, or I might just decide to kill off one of your fathers." He smirked. "Which one are you mad at this week, again?"
The smile disappeared completely and somehow, he wished he hadn't said anything. She brushed past him, stomping off in the direction Luke had gone. Sylar paused, staring at the spot where Claire had been for a moment, before following suit.
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Building 26, Washington D.C,
The heat was getting to her. She could feel the sweat on her face, and the heat seemed to press into her. She was melting, and her ex-boyfriend seemed content to let it happen. Anger creeped up on her, and she slammed her hands forward against the the chains. How could she ever have fallen for him? She slammed her hands forward again, letting the chains bear the full brunt of her anger. Clank.
She froze. Was it just her, or did she feel something loosen? She twisted her neck, craning to see if something had come loose. She felt her heart do a loop when she saw a nail sticking out. She gave another experimental pull, and the whole chain moved. She grinned when she saw that now two nails were loose.
"Argh!" With one final heave, it was done. Her chains were off. She felt like holding her hands up in the air and just waving them about, but she had no time for that right now. She needed to move.
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"I'm talking about people who could slice open your head with their finger." Nathan twitched visibly as he thought of Sylar. "Make you think what they want you to think, get inside your head." Abby looked by far, more disbelieving than ever.
"This is your argument?" Abby's forehead creased, and she sounded even more ready to pull the plug. "That these people are so dangerous that they have no constitutional rights?" She stepped forehead, enunciating her next sentence to make sure he understood her perfectly. "There is no justification for treating people this way." As Abby's frown increased, so did Nathan's.
"You can't pull the plug on a war, when you haven't even been to the front lines." His voice was strained almost begging her to understand. If he'd been there as many times as he had, he was sure she would be supporting this mission one hundred percent.
The alarm rang out behind him. He clenched his fists. "Excuse me." His voice was cold, emotionless apart from a tinge of fear that sounded almost unrecognisable coming from his mouth. Abby's eyebrows raised. Her curiousity was peaked.
Nathan spun around, following the surge of employees that pulled him toward the hallway. His heart stopped when he saw the tall blonde with her metal chains wrapped around one of his employees necks. His face was red, and anyone could see she was struggling to breathe.
"Tracy..." Her head snapped in his direction. Her blue eyes flicked over him, unreadable, and for a second, he actually thought she might spare the man. But only for a second. She pushed him away from her slightly, and he relished in the freedom, spinning around and away from her. But Tracy caught hold of his hand, and as Nathan watched the ice move up the man's arm, he felt his heart drop. He'd forgotten what it was like to watch a man die. Tracy smirked, and pushed him against the wall, watching the man shatter into a million little pieces. Them her eyes found his. There was a message hidden behind them.
"This is just the beginning." They seemed to whisper. Then she shuddered, falling to the floor as the taser took it's affect. Everything seemed like a blur. He clenched his hands, willing himself to breathe. He had everything under control-he did.
His eyes fell to the floor and he felt white-rage fill him up from the inside out. How the hell did she get out of her cage? He seethed inwardly. He turned to face Abby, whose face had went white. She was speechless, her face contorted in a mask of horror. He turned away, following the brigade that was leading Tracy away. She was never, ever getting out of here again.
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Sylar seethed inwardly as Luke blew bubbles in his milkshake and Claire aimlessly stirred her coffee. Kids. He was sitting with kids. Albeit, Claire was slightly more mature but still... He cut into his pancake with gusto, pretending it was Luke's head.
"At least tell me how long this is going to last." He said finally. He couldn't take this. The sooner he knew, the sooner he could leave Luke behind. As for Claire... She could help him with Noah, who was almost certainly on his trail by now.
"Are we driving for another week? Another hour?" He felt Claire lean in slightly, eager to hear Luke's answer. Luke ignored his question completely, pointing towards an old man sipping a glass of water while reading a paper.
"Check it out." He aimed his hand toward the glass, and almost immediately the water fizzed, bubbling and overflowing. Luke grinned as the glass shattered and the man promptly let go of it, his hand burning a hot red.
"Stop it!" Both Claire and Sylar reached out simultaneously, grabbing Luke's hand and yanking it downwards.
"Calm down." Luke chuckled, childlike glee spreading across his face. "I'm just messing with him." Claire's mouth opened to lecture him, but Sylar was faster.
"Not here." He hissed. Great, now he had to babysit the little numb-skull too?
He glanced around suspiciously, suddenly noticing a man sitting at the side-table, a little too engrossed with reading the newspaper. The man's eyes flickered upward, and Sylar tore his gaze away. He hadn't spotted a tail earlier, and Nathan's men couldn't possibly be on their trail already... Unless Noah was working with them, which wouldn't surprise him, actually... He refocused on Luke.
"We don't need the attention." He reprimanded, glaring at the teenager. "Our powers are not for amusement, Luke, do you understand that?" He growled out, wiping his mouth with a napkin that he stole from Claire, whose brows furrowed in annoyance.
"What, you only use your powers for a reason?" Luke was almost laughing, finding the idea positively amusing.
"Usually." His eyes flickered to Claire, who seemed very interested in his answer. "Sometimes I disappoint myself."
Claire's mouth twitched into a sarcastic smile. "Yup, like when he kills, tortures and eats people's brain." She chuckled bitterly.
Sylar opened his mouth to protest-he was eating here. He didn't really need that imagery in his head. He pushed his pancakes away, appetite sullied.
"You eat brains?" Luke gasped, mouth wide open, causing a red-headed waitress nearby to turn and give them a strange look.
"No." Sylar scowled, glaring at Claire, who smirked. "Claire's ust over-exaggerating."
Suddenly Claire's expression froze, her spoon clutched firmly in her hand. "Sylar.." She said, her eyes fixed on the man he had been staring at earlier.
"Yes...?" He gave her an inquisitive look.
"That guy over there. Reading the paper?" She nodded discreetly in his direction. "The paper he's reading... It's from last week."
Luke almost dropped his spoon. "Wait, are they the people who are after us? Are they like going to kill us or something? Are they-" Sylar clamped a hand over Luke's mouth, eyes boring into the kid.
"Go get the car. Bring it out to the front. Me and Claire will meet you there. Try not to look too suspicious." He studied Luke, eyes blazing. "Do you think you can handle that?" Luke nodded mutely.
Sylar smirked. "Good." He removed his hand from Luke's mouth, pushing him away. "Go." Luke got up and moved towards the door, casting a nervous gaze back at them before rushing out. Sylar took a final sip of his coffee, before grabbing Claire's hand and making towards the exit. Sure enough, the man with the paper's eyes flicked up towards them, before flicking down again when he saw they were looking.
"What are you doing?" Claire hissed, trying to tug her hand away from his. "Let go of me!"
"I'm playing a role, now stop acting like such a child!" He hissed back, scowling at her. She stopped struggling, pushing open the door and dragging him out of the diner.
He could feel them. He could hear tiny whispers, a few meters away, trying to stay undetected. They knew about his enhanced hearing. He smirked. Noah was working with them. Interesting. It made Claire twice as valuable.
He could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, with that slight unmistakable twinge of fear. They looked too conspicuous, standing out here, doing nothing. Too suspicious. He felt vulnerable, out here in the open. Where the hell was Luke? Why had they parked so far away? He dragged his eyes away from the horizon, refocusing on Claire. They were getting closer... Each minute seemed to tick by with increasing slowness.
Distraction. They needed a distraction. He did the only thing he could think of that wouldn't send the agents into immediate attack mood.
He pulled Claire against him roughly, attaching his mouth to hers in desperation. He manouvered her so that both of them faced away from the oncoming army. Where was he? Claire's eyes were wide with shock, and he almost rolled his eyes when she started to pull away from him. Now was no time for shyness, or morality, unless she really did enjoy getting shot at. At least this way, their faces couldn't be seen, and they were just another happy couple that was into PDA.
"Just go with it." He whispered harshly into her ear. "Trust me, I'm not exactly enjoying this either." And with another harsh glare, he tilted her face up towards him, gently settling his lips over hers. Though she remained stiff in his arms, her eyes closed, and he felt some of the tension in her shoulders melt away. He was hyper-aware of everything; the nearness of the soldiers, the distant screech of tyres, Claire's clutch on his shirt growing increasingly tighter. She seemed to be having trouble standing, he noticed bemusedly. Slowly, he moved the hand that was on her waist to cup her head, gently pushing a strand of blonde hair away from her her face. And was it him, or did he just see the ghost of a smile pass over her face when he did that?
Her lips were soft, and she tasted like spring and sticky maple syrup with a hint of that bitter coffee. He smirked against her lips. She tasted like she looked. Sweet. Innocent. He wondered what Noah would think if he saw him kissing his daughter. The mental image was just hilarious.
He milked it for all it was worth. He ran his tongue over her lips, before nibbling on her bottom lip experimentally. She whimpered softly, and her left hand squeezed his shoulder reprimandingly. "And I thought you said you weren't enjoying this?" She hissed at him, her voice unnaturally shaky.
A cocky, half-grin floated onto his face. "We-e-ll..." She chuckled weakly against his lips, and something strange tugged at the back of his head. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it felt familiar, and yet out of place at the same time. He didn't have time to figure out what it was though, a screech of tires alerted him of Luke's arrival with the getaway car. And then the first shots were fired.
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Claire blinked. That was the first thing she did when she heard the shots. Then she noticed that she felt something warm seeping onto her shirt. She looked down. Blood. And then she realised. Sylar had been shot. His eyes scrunched up, and taking a huge gulp of air, he flung his hand backwards, sending multiple people flying. Three more shots were hit him, and she felt Sylar jerk with each bullet.
"Claire!" Luke's voice, unnaturally harsh, screamed at her. "Move!"
His order jerked her out of her daze, and she snapped into action. She grabbed Sylar by the waist, using him as cover as she pushed him forward into the car. She felt numb, cold, listening intently to the bullets as Luke drove them at unholy speed away from the place. She let her head fall backwards against the soft leather. She had just saved him. Again.
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Okay, I'm REALLY SORRY, but I have to split the chapter again, or there won't be another chapter for like... A LONG time. I'm really sorry this took so long! I've been in the land of writers block for a while now, and it's just *brain explodes* Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, it's the catalyst for the whole heroes/humans war plus the beginning of romanticness for Sylaire, so I AM SO EXCITED! You better be too! I think the next chap will be faster, but I can't be sure by the way things keep piling up. I will try and keep up regular updates though;)
Anyway, as always, my recommendations are; julyisfree, Purple Lex, cerberus angel,(who was a HUGE help on this chapter, BTW), Anei and PensAreAwesome and justforme83. There is a really good Sylaire fanfic that I just read, We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, that's just amazing, and I love it SOO much:D I'm Not The One by maydei is also super perf stuff, so check it out!;) Please leave a review, thank you, thank you so much!;)