14Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or any of the characters therein.
"Grief is the price we pay for love." - Queen Elizabeth II
The barrel of Claire's gun was aimed firmly at the boy's small head. Surprisingly, he wasn't crying and neither his face nor countenance expressed fear, even as Knox held him. She wondered which parent he got that from.
"Stop it, Claire, leave him out of this," Peter ordered as he motioned for her to lower the gun. "This is between us."
Claire laughed. Poor stupid man, he had no clue about the world he'd stepped into. But even as she laughed, the conviction in his tone takes her back to a time when he was hero. Her savior.
Sylar took a step forward and step towards her and she visibly tensed. "Stop it, Claire. Let him go."
Knox gave her a look and she understood its message. She hated that she couldn't be allowed the smallest bit of fear or apprehension, especially given the situation.
"Make me," Claire challenged with a smirk, much like the one he wore when he sliced open her head. It was a dangerous smirk, one that displayed her confidence and promised death.
Gabriel took another step, eyes shining dangerously, his dark side threatening to come out. He flicked his finger, a casual gesture to anyone else. From him, it sent Claire's gun flying. Before anyone could react, even the whirlwind fast Daphne, another flick sent Claire into his arms.
"We need to talk." The words came out in something between a whisper and a low growl. Words she knew were meant for no one but her.
"Fine, but get your hands off me," Claire agreed, while shoving his hands from her body. She knew before coming her it'd be unavoidable and as much as she'd like to deny it, she wanted to hear him.
Peter looked on in questioning surprise. He wanted to ask, but knew it wasn't the time. Sylar seemed to be calming her, Peter knew that his voice might send her back over the edge.
"Peter," Sylar called back as he and Claire walked down the hall. "Watch my son."
Peter agreed that he would and called the boy over to him, placing a hand across his chest as Noah leaned against his legs.
He did his best to give the small child a reassuring smile as he watched a door close behind Sylar and Claire. Obviously, something happened between them in the past few years, but Peter had no clue what it was.
As soon as the door closed, Sylar was screaming at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Me? What's wrong with me? You took everything from me!" Claire screamed back, leaning up just slightly on her heels to make herself seem more imposing. "You are what's wrong with me!"
Sylar's shoulders slumped in something akin to defeat. Or maybe it was exhaustion. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" His voice was softer now, filled with untold emotion. The most pronounced being guilt
"Your words don't mean anything to me," Claire snapped.
"Apparently neither do my actions," he countered while moving forward until she was pinned between him and his bed. "I tried so hard to make you see me differently. I tried to be a better person for you. And you never saw it."
Claire snorted and shook her head. "Of course I saw it. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Or are you forgetting about our little mistake?"
"What happened to you, Claire?" Sylar asked, echoing the very question Peter asked her earlier. "You used to be so innocent. So pure."
"You happened to me. You stole my innocence," she shot at him. "Twice."
"Damnit, Claire, I'm sorry!" he screamed at her. "At least for one of them. I could never be sorry about the other."
His last words were softer and her expression shifted, just for a moment, as she heard them. "I am."
His head snapped back to her, looking at her with an expression of complete disbelief. "How could you say that? What we had, what we did, it was beautiful."
Claire laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. "It was stupid and it ruined my life."
Sylar shook his head. "You ruined your own life when you turned your back on us."
Claire could see the words already forming at his lips. "Don't say it."
He didn't listen. "I loved you."
For a moment, Sylar thought he saw remorse flash in her eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. "Shut up."
He saw her weakness and went for it. "It's funny how the roles have been reversed, isn't it? I'm the good guy now. Living a normal life with my son. Having a family. And now you're the killer who is all alone in the world. You had everything and you threw it all away."
Tears began to form in her blue eyes, but she blinked them back quickly, refusing to let him see her cry. "You took it all away."
Anger flashed again in his chocolate pools. "I gave you something beautiful and you just tossed it aside."
A tear slid down despite her efforts to keep it back. He stepped closer, their bodies flush against each other.
"How could you do it, Claire? How could you point a gun at our son?"
Another tear and then another fell and then she was crying against his chest, clutching at his shirt as she let it all out. "I don't know. I hate you for taking him from me, but I know it's not your fault. I didn't want him. I was just so scared. So scared they'd get him, take him from us."
Sylar melted with her and wrapped an arm around her. "Why didn't you believe me when I said I'd protect you both?"
She looked up at him then, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Because he's not like us. He can get hurt, he can die. When Mohinder told me he'd never have an ability, I thought he'd be safer with a normal family, having a safe, normal life. No Company, no villains."
Sylar put his hand under her chin and tilted her head so he could look at. "I miss you, Claire."
He didn't give Claire a chance to respond before he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss.
Meanwhile, in the other room, the villains eyed Peter and the young Noah nervously. Tensely waiting for Claire's return. Noah was obviously getting equally impatient as he rocked back and forth on his short little legs.
He finally turned and looked up at Peter. "Uncle Peter, what are mommy and daddy doing?
Peter's face paled considerably. "What? Your mom?"
Noah nodded as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. But Peter's mind was spinning. Sylar had just told him they were brothers, that would make him Claire's uncle. The thought sickened him. "Why do you call me 'Uncle Peter?'"
"Cause of mommy. You mommy's uncle, too," he answered proudly with a bright smile.
"Do you know if me and your dad are brothers?" Peter asked softly and felt foolish for doing so. Noah couldn't have been more than four, quizzing him on the family tree wasn't likely to be productive.
But young Noah surprised him. "Not really. Daddy told me he thought you was his brother, but he was wrong. But you still friends like brothers."
Peter shook his head. He was learning way too much and it was going to be hard going back to his time with this information, knowing that his innocent little niece would end up being anything but innocent and have a child with her worst enemy. It was mind-boggling and it was painful.
As Claire and Sylar stepped out of the bedroom, Daphne flew across the room and knocked Peter into the adjacent play room. His body crashed against his nephew's toys.
Sylar pushed Claire to the floor and Knox moved towards Noah. "Noah, go hide. Over there. Go now."
Noah did as he was told and cowered behind the stools at the breakfast bar.
Sylar glanced into the other room, but could only see a blurry of movements as Peter and Daphne fought at lightning speeds. He turned back to Knox but was caught with a sucker punch to the jaw. He stumbled and was hit again, this time in the stomach. He hit his knees, briefly, and looked up at Knox.
"I understand how your power works. You get stronger with fear. I'm not afraid of you."
Knox nodded towards the boy. "But he is."
Sylar turned and saw his son shaking in fear. "Noah, run now!" he screamed, but was cut short as Knox grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him in the air and throwing him down into his kitchen table.
"Daddy!" Noah screamed, in fear for his father's safety as he watched the other man hurting him.
Sylar didn't have a chance to get up before Knox kicked him, sending him flying across the room and into the breakfast bar.
Noah. Sylar sat up and pushed the rubble aside frantically until he found his son. As he pulled his boy's small, lifeless form into his lap, the world went still. He whispered his name over and over as he stared at his son. His beautiful son now stained with his own blood.
He gently laid him on the floor and turned towards Knox looking every bit the killer he once was.
Knox stopped dead. All the fear was gone and he was powerless. Peter and Daphne could only look on in horror at Noah. Claire crawled across the floor until she came to rest at her son's side. She ran her hands through his hair, savoring the softness of it, the way it slid between her fingers, so that she would never forget what it felt like.
Sylar was at Knox now. He was in a blind rage, his vision bled red and everything else dropped away. All he could see was his son and the man who killed him.
He grabbed the murderer's collar and hit him. He switched his hands and hit him again and again and again. He didn't know when the radiation started. He couldn't feel it. He could only feel the other man's bones crunching against his fist. Screaming as he swung.
But then it became too much. The power was taking over, consuming him and he couldn't breathe anymore.
Peter was screaming somewhere in the background, trying to go to him. Perhaps the only person who could understand the ability that was destroying him. And liberating him. His rage was filling him, fueling the nuclear radiation as he screamed.
Somewhere behind him Claire was on her feet now. Tears stung her eyes as she leveled her gun. It wasn't the first time she'd pointed a gun at a man she loved while he was on the verge of exploding, but it didn't make it any easier. She was about to lose everything. Again.
It didn't matter. They were all too late. The explosion ripped through them.
Claire walked into the cold, dark room. She knew he was in there. Helpless and alone. Exactly how she felt.
The Haitian was behind her, following silently and using his ability as needed.
"Trying to teleport?" she asked him. Her voice was cold, mocking and filled with amusement at his situation. "That's not going to work with my friend here."
She walked over to him, looked down at his restrained body. "200,000 people died in Costa Verde," she told him as she grabbed a scalpel from a nearby cart. Claire turned to him again, meeting his eyes with hers. Hoping he could see the pain in them. "I want you to feel the pain of…Every. Single. Death."
Her words came out like acid and while she did feel anger at all the lives that were lost, it was only two of them that caused this need. For revenge. For blood. His blood.
She dragged the scalpel across the bare skin of his chest. Watched closely as the red covered his pale skin. "That's one."
Peter groaned in pain, struggling against his confines. "I can save them. Every one in Costa Verde. In the world. It doesn't have to be like this Claire. I saved you once, I can save you again." His breath was ragged. Claire didn't know if it was from the fear or the pain. She hoped it was both.
"No," he cried just before she slid the blade across his skin again. He yelled out in pain, this one was deeper and it hurt. Like hell.
"That's two," she told him coldly. The only two that really mattered.
Her father chose the perfect moment to enter the room. She left minutes later, seeing no reason to argue with Nathan because she'd gotten what she came for anyway.
Claire stood in the hallway, just outside that room. She slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. Tears immediately filled her eyes and fell from her cheeks. Tears for Noah. For Sylar. And for what she had become.