UNFINISHED Heroes fic
Title: Aftermath
Pairing(s): Nathan/Peter, Claude/Peter, Bennet/Matt, Mohinder/Gabriel, most established canon family relationships
Rating: R for references to violence and disturbing images
Warnings: UNFINISHED FIC with very little chance of being finished
Summary: My take on what happens after 1x23. I have read NO season 2 spoilers other than a very vague one, and I don't know who that applied to.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, Claude and Peter would be shagging already!
Author's/artist's notes: Do not TELL me any season 2 spoilers, or I will hurt you.
This isn't going to get finished, and I've kind of lost the impulse to work on it because a) not enough time left to get it done and b) it's going to get Jossed Kringed to hell and back, and meh... So, this is an unfinished thing, but I wanted to post what I'd done so far instead of have it just sit here gathering dust. Sorry if that annoys you folks!
Aftermath
by Penemuel
There's pain and fear and something else nagging at the back of his mind, but the one impulse that rises above all the others is survive. He can't do that here, so he crawls, pulling himself along by sheer willpower. Survive. Survive. Survive! Down into the darkness, away from the chaos above, before they see you. Survive...
It hurts -- everything hurts so much and he just doesn't understand why or what's wrong, but the next time he wakes up he's sprawled in damp filth and he doesn't want to think about what might have been nibbling at his shoe. He whimpers and tries to drag himself to his feet, ends up on hands and knees. He has to find someplace safe, someplace to heal...
He starts to crawl.
* * *
"No, please check Officer Parkman first -- he's been shot. He needs help much more than I do -- believe me, I can wait." Bennet manages to get the paramedics' attention away from himself and Claire long enough to slip the gun into her purse unseen, then cradles his wounded arm and sits on a concrete wall next to her. "You okay, Claire-bear?" he asks softly, seeing her looking up at the sky once more.
"No," she answers with a small voice, looking back at him and then around at the carnage in the Plaza.
He hugs her close with his good arm and kisses her forehead. "I'm here, Sweetheart. It's over..."
A third team of paramedics arrives and he painfully shrugs out of his jacket to allow them to treat his injuries.
* * *
Mohinder's hands are red with blood -- DL's, Parkman's -- he looks down at them as the paramedics wheel the policeman towards the waiting ambulance; looks up again to find that time has passed and Molly is still clinging to the blonde woman's hand. The little girl looks back at him and smiles, and he thinks he smiles back. He looks around the Plaza, trying to locate everyone and realizing that there are more people missing than just the brothers Petrelli.
"No..." he breathes, looking down again at the blood on his hands and realizing that there will be more.
* * *
They fly up, up -- up so high, Peter clinging to Nathan and at the same time wanting to push him away. The burning won't stop and he knows it means death for both of them but he just can't think can't control it can't do anything but-- Nathan!
//I'm here, Pete, I'm here. Never letting you down again!//
Oh Nathan...
He can feel himself flying now, thoughts of his brother's love making it work, finally, and he looks at Nathan. "I love you," he says, wishing he could lean in to kiss those lips one more time. "Now go -- don't die for me, damn it!" and he pushes, freeing himself from his brother's weakening arms. Pushes, and all of a sudden Nathan is flying in the opposite direction, the thoughts that scream out confused, unable to comprehend what's just happened.
//Pete?! What?! Let me help you!//
"You already have, Nathan -- just get clear!" he screams, his voice raw in the diminishing oxygen and increasing cold he doesn't feel. The fire's bubbling under the surface and there's nothing in the world that will stop it now and the blinding bright flash hurts like nothing he's ever felt before. His last thought is a prayer that Nathan got far enough away before it was too late...
* * *
Molly and Micah sit quietly in the back of the ambulance while Niki holds DL's hand. The paramedics work feverishly to keep him as stable as possible, not quite sure why he isn't dead yet, but not about to say anything aloud about it. When they get to the hospital and the doctors force Niki and the children to wait while he's moved to an ER gurney, no one notices the bullet lying on the trauma room's floor. Later, the doctors will be confused by the lack of an exit wound and the lack of a bullet, but at the moment they're all too busy to notice.
The nurses lead Niki and the children to a waiting area, and she sits down and holds them both tight for a long moment, not even registering the blonde girl sitting across from her. "Is he going to be okay?" the girl finally asks, and Niki's head shoots up. She frowns, and realizes this is the blonde from the Plaza.
"I'm sorry?"
"Your husband -- is he going to be okay? I'm Claire -- my... dad was there."
"Oh. Is he-- which one--" and these aren't the right things to say. She grimaces and starts again. "I'm Niki, this is Molly and Micah, and I don't know about DL -- he was shot..."
Claire gives her a sad smile. "I'm sorry -- I hope he'll be all right."
"Is your dad--"
"Ms. Sanders -- how nice to see you again," Bennet says, entering the waiting area. "Claire, they're talking about admitting me overnight for observation," he says with a note of apology in his voice. "At least it'll give me a chance to check on Parkman..."
Then he kneels down and smiles at Molly. "Can you forgive me, Molly? I never meant to scare you so badly." He looks over at Claire with a little nod and a lot of admiration. "This is my little girl, Claire."
The little girl nods, then looks up at Claire and smiles. Claire smiles back, although she can't help wondering exactly what he's apologizing for. "Okay," Molly says, and Claire realizes that it's wrong for two young children to be in the middle of this mess. Then Molly plops herself down in one of the seats and frowns. "I didn't see what happened to Doctor Suresh..."
"We'll find Mohinder later," Bennet says calmly. "I don't believe he was hurt at all, so he probably went home to get cleaned up." He doesn't voice his suspicions about why Mohinder wasn't hurt -- this isn't the time or the audience for it.
"Mr. Bennet? Your room is ready," a nurse says, looking over the group assembled there with mild curiosity.
"Thank you -- I'll talk with you later, Molly. Ms. Sanders, and Micah, is it?" He smiles and nods, then stands again and squeezes Claire's shoulder. "Come on, Claire-bear..."
* * *
He's so weak, so tired. He can't stay here -- that impulse keeps driving him on. Survive. Survive. Survive. He crawls along, on and on until he reaches what he knows is the right place. He has no idea why he knows this, but he does. He looks up and sees a ladder leading up. Somehow manages to find the strength to climb, to push the manhole open, to drag himself out gasping and exhausted into an empty side street. "Help..." he says, his voice barely more than a breath. "Someone help me..."
* * *
He gasps air into his lungs and pain explodes through him. Pain and things are twisted - broken - wrong. He sits up and something cracks and snaps, and part of the pain fades while another part flares into being for a moment then also fades. Something else makes a horrible crunch and he screams, quickly silenced as the rawness of his throat makes itself known. Every breath is pain, although even now that's fading away so quickly, blessed cold air soothing the fire of agony. He starts to cough, draws himself up to his hands and knees and chokes something up that looks burned and bloody and altogether too vital to be lying splashed on the ground in front of him, but now he can breathe easier and that throbbing pain behind his eyes is subsiding.
Something really bad happened, he realizes.
Something really, really bad, and he's lying in the middle of an impact crater in a field, his clothes scorched to threads.
Something really bad and Nathan!
Where is Nathan?!
He drags himself to his feet, crying out sharply at another crack and a crunch as something settles back into place and bones knit as tendons repair themselves again, this time in the right places. He doesn't care about that though -- the only thing on his mind now is finding Nathan.
He leaps into the air and as the sound of helicopter blades grow louder in the distance, he fades from sight, flying out in an ever-widening circle around the crater he realizes he made when he fell back to Earth.
* * *
He got there too late, he knows. Too late to stop it as he looks up into the sky and sees the bright burst of light. Too late, and if he'd stayed, if he'd done more, if he'd--
Bloody hell, they're all there, too. Every last one of 'em and none of 'em stopped it. The only one who did was the one he'd never believe had it in him, and it hurts he was wrong about that, too.
He stays invisible, sneaks past Bennet when the paramedics are making enough noise to mask even an elephant walking past, and runs in the direction of the trail of fire and smoke. If there's one thing he knows he can still do well, it's run...
* * *
Mohinder slows as he nears the door to his building. There's someone sitting there. A bum, looking for someone to open the door so he can sneak inside and squat in one of the empty apartments? He isn't sure, but something about the figure sends a rush of fear through him. Something...
The figure looks up and croaks something unintelligible. Blood splashes on lips made pale by shock. "Help me..." the man is pleading.
"Sylar!" Mohinder hisses, taking a step back.
"Please, help me..." and there's more blood, but the man doesn't seem to respond to that name.
"Zane?" he tries, holding his ground although he's trembling in something that isn't entirely fright.
"Please...?"
"Gabriel?" And this time there's a light of recognition in the man's eyes. He sees the pain there, too -- pain, and fear, and the vindictive side of himself is telling him to leave the man there; to let him bleed to death, even as he's helping him up and wrapping an arm around his waist, supporting the lean form despite the inches the man has on him. He's startlingly light, and icy cold to the touch. "Come on, Gabriel -- let me help you..."
He brings the man into his building, into his apartment which still shows signs of their last encounter there, shattered glass embedded randomly into the walls and broken furniture lying in splinters on the floor. He brings him into the bathroom and pulls off his jacket and shirt, gasps softly at the wound that goes right through him. "My god -- you should be dead..."
"Help me, please?" Gabriel mouths, then he falls unconscious in Mohinder's arms.
* * *
He finds his brother lying unconscious in the dunes, evidence of a rough landing scorched through the sparse grass before his unceremonious collapse in the sand. He's relieved beyond words for Nathan's foresight, to come down in some place out of the way and hopefully soft enough to avoid further injury, because what he's already done to his brother is bad enough.
He can hear the wheeze of Nathan's breath in singed lungs as he drops to his knees and cradles his brother in his arms. This isn't the way it's supposed to be -- he's not supposed to be the one clutching his brother's unconscious form to him, looking down at burned skin and singed hair and feeling nothing but pain and tiredness where there was life and vitality such a short time ago.
He's not supposed to be his brother's murderer...
"Nathan, please, wake up!" he gulps, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead, tentative hands stroking burned and blistered flesh, peeling away charred clothing. He can hear Nathan's heart beating, but it's so weak, not the strong thump he would curl into and fall asleep to in Nathan's arms. He lets out a despairing wail and clutches Nathan close, the sobs wrenching his recently regenerated body now and threatening to tear him apart once more. "Don't leave me, Nathan, please... Please don't leave me!" he begs, kissing his brother's cracked lips, tears streaming down his face. "I can't do this without you..."
* * *
Claude sees the trail scorched through the dunes, runs to find Peter sobbing over what he's sure must be Nathan's body. "Bloody hell..." Skids to a stop next to them and drops to his knees, ready to take Peter into his arms when Nathan lets out a wheezing groan and he realizes the man is somehow still alive. "Bloody hell, you idiot poodle, get him to a hospital, don't just sit here lettin' him die!"
Peter looks up in shock, realizing he's there, and the look in the boy's eyes is going to kill him. He never wanted to break him with their training, just make him realize he couldn't be a dreamer all the time, but this -- this he's scared has broken his Peter, and if Nathan dies, he knows it will.
"Get him to a hospital," he says again, slowly, because he's really not sure it's getting through. "Y'can fly, still, right? Ya got Niki's power, right? Y'can carry him and me, an' get us there right quick."
"Hospital..." Peter says, and Claude can see some sign of conscious thought returning to his eyes.
"Yeah, hospital. C'mon, Poodle, upsy daisy," he urges, standing and waiting while Peter scoops Nathan up like a broken doll. There's another painful groan and Peter looks down at his brother. When he looks up again, there's a fire of determination in his eyes, and Claude nods. "There ya go." Then he looks up at a sound and pales. "Shit, here they come..." He fades from sight and an instant later, Peter and Nathan join him, just as the helicopter makes a circle over the dunes.
Peter's voice is still rough from tears, but much more firm than Claude's used to hearing as he orders, "Wrap your arms around me and hold on -- I'll try to keep you there with telekinesis, but we're going now." And Claude barely has time to do so before Peter takes off and they're flying through the air at a terrifying speed. Claude clings for dear life as Peter cradles his brother protectively in his arms and flees.
* * *
and that's where I ran out of steam. Sorry, all -- just no time and argh going to be all wrong anyway... I was going to have them recover* and head down to one of the Petrelli houses in the Caribbean; collect Janice, rescue Sandra and Lyle, train Peter how to use his abilities, etc. etc....
*Claude was going to find someone he knew, a healer, and bring her to Peter so he could absorb the ability and safe Nathan from radiation poisoning. She wasn't going to be as powerful as Linderman, so no instant fix, and Nathan would have slowly been getting better over the four months between HTSAEM and the new season. And they were hiding out in the Caribbean to keep safe from Mama Petrelli.
Although the potential Petrellicest/Claude/Bennet orgy will show up elsewhere ;)
Oh yeah, and Mohinder was going to befriend Gabriel and slowly Gabriel was going to come to realize he might have done something horrible, but not remember for a bit that he was Sylar. 'Cause I kind of thought he'd be the one with the memory loss, and I'm very worried that I was wrong on that one... *stabbity stabbity* Jossed Kringed again!
Pairing(s): Nathan/Peter, Claude/Peter, Bennet/Matt, Mohinder/Gabriel, most established canon family relationships
Rating: R for references to violence and disturbing images
Warnings: UNFINISHED FIC with very little chance of being finished
Summary: My take on what happens after 1x23. I have read NO season 2 spoilers other than a very vague one, and I don't know who that applied to.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, Claude and Peter would be shagging already!
Author's/artist's notes: Do not TELL me any season 2 spoilers, or I will hurt you.
This isn't going to get finished, and I've kind of lost the impulse to work on it because a) not enough time left to get it done and b) it's going to get Jossed Kringed to hell and back, and meh... So, this is an unfinished thing, but I wanted to post what I'd done so far instead of have it just sit here gathering dust. Sorry if that annoys you folks!
Aftermath
by Penemuel
There's pain and fear and something else nagging at the back of his mind, but the one impulse that rises above all the others is survive. He can't do that here, so he crawls, pulling himself along by sheer willpower. Survive. Survive. Survive! Down into the darkness, away from the chaos above, before they see you. Survive...
It hurts -- everything hurts so much and he just doesn't understand why or what's wrong, but the next time he wakes up he's sprawled in damp filth and he doesn't want to think about what might have been nibbling at his shoe. He whimpers and tries to drag himself to his feet, ends up on hands and knees. He has to find someplace safe, someplace to heal...
He starts to crawl.
* * *
"No, please check Officer Parkman first -- he's been shot. He needs help much more than I do -- believe me, I can wait." Bennet manages to get the paramedics' attention away from himself and Claire long enough to slip the gun into her purse unseen, then cradles his wounded arm and sits on a concrete wall next to her. "You okay, Claire-bear?" he asks softly, seeing her looking up at the sky once more.
"No," she answers with a small voice, looking back at him and then around at the carnage in the Plaza.
He hugs her close with his good arm and kisses her forehead. "I'm here, Sweetheart. It's over..."
A third team of paramedics arrives and he painfully shrugs out of his jacket to allow them to treat his injuries.
* * *
Mohinder's hands are red with blood -- DL's, Parkman's -- he looks down at them as the paramedics wheel the policeman towards the waiting ambulance; looks up again to find that time has passed and Molly is still clinging to the blonde woman's hand. The little girl looks back at him and smiles, and he thinks he smiles back. He looks around the Plaza, trying to locate everyone and realizing that there are more people missing than just the brothers Petrelli.
"No..." he breathes, looking down again at the blood on his hands and realizing that there will be more.
* * *
They fly up, up -- up so high, Peter clinging to Nathan and at the same time wanting to push him away. The burning won't stop and he knows it means death for both of them but he just can't think can't control it can't do anything but-- Nathan!
//I'm here, Pete, I'm here. Never letting you down again!//
Oh Nathan...
He can feel himself flying now, thoughts of his brother's love making it work, finally, and he looks at Nathan. "I love you," he says, wishing he could lean in to kiss those lips one more time. "Now go -- don't die for me, damn it!" and he pushes, freeing himself from his brother's weakening arms. Pushes, and all of a sudden Nathan is flying in the opposite direction, the thoughts that scream out confused, unable to comprehend what's just happened.
//Pete?! What?! Let me help you!//
"You already have, Nathan -- just get clear!" he screams, his voice raw in the diminishing oxygen and increasing cold he doesn't feel. The fire's bubbling under the surface and there's nothing in the world that will stop it now and the blinding bright flash hurts like nothing he's ever felt before. His last thought is a prayer that Nathan got far enough away before it was too late...
* * *
Molly and Micah sit quietly in the back of the ambulance while Niki holds DL's hand. The paramedics work feverishly to keep him as stable as possible, not quite sure why he isn't dead yet, but not about to say anything aloud about it. When they get to the hospital and the doctors force Niki and the children to wait while he's moved to an ER gurney, no one notices the bullet lying on the trauma room's floor. Later, the doctors will be confused by the lack of an exit wound and the lack of a bullet, but at the moment they're all too busy to notice.
The nurses lead Niki and the children to a waiting area, and she sits down and holds them both tight for a long moment, not even registering the blonde girl sitting across from her. "Is he going to be okay?" the girl finally asks, and Niki's head shoots up. She frowns, and realizes this is the blonde from the Plaza.
"I'm sorry?"
"Your husband -- is he going to be okay? I'm Claire -- my... dad was there."
"Oh. Is he-- which one--" and these aren't the right things to say. She grimaces and starts again. "I'm Niki, this is Molly and Micah, and I don't know about DL -- he was shot..."
Claire gives her a sad smile. "I'm sorry -- I hope he'll be all right."
"Is your dad--"
"Ms. Sanders -- how nice to see you again," Bennet says, entering the waiting area. "Claire, they're talking about admitting me overnight for observation," he says with a note of apology in his voice. "At least it'll give me a chance to check on Parkman..."
Then he kneels down and smiles at Molly. "Can you forgive me, Molly? I never meant to scare you so badly." He looks over at Claire with a little nod and a lot of admiration. "This is my little girl, Claire."
The little girl nods, then looks up at Claire and smiles. Claire smiles back, although she can't help wondering exactly what he's apologizing for. "Okay," Molly says, and Claire realizes that it's wrong for two young children to be in the middle of this mess. Then Molly plops herself down in one of the seats and frowns. "I didn't see what happened to Doctor Suresh..."
"We'll find Mohinder later," Bennet says calmly. "I don't believe he was hurt at all, so he probably went home to get cleaned up." He doesn't voice his suspicions about why Mohinder wasn't hurt -- this isn't the time or the audience for it.
"Mr. Bennet? Your room is ready," a nurse says, looking over the group assembled there with mild curiosity.
"Thank you -- I'll talk with you later, Molly. Ms. Sanders, and Micah, is it?" He smiles and nods, then stands again and squeezes Claire's shoulder. "Come on, Claire-bear..."
* * *
He's so weak, so tired. He can't stay here -- that impulse keeps driving him on. Survive. Survive. Survive. He crawls along, on and on until he reaches what he knows is the right place. He has no idea why he knows this, but he does. He looks up and sees a ladder leading up. Somehow manages to find the strength to climb, to push the manhole open, to drag himself out gasping and exhausted into an empty side street. "Help..." he says, his voice barely more than a breath. "Someone help me..."
* * *
He gasps air into his lungs and pain explodes through him. Pain and things are twisted - broken - wrong. He sits up and something cracks and snaps, and part of the pain fades while another part flares into being for a moment then also fades. Something else makes a horrible crunch and he screams, quickly silenced as the rawness of his throat makes itself known. Every breath is pain, although even now that's fading away so quickly, blessed cold air soothing the fire of agony. He starts to cough, draws himself up to his hands and knees and chokes something up that looks burned and bloody and altogether too vital to be lying splashed on the ground in front of him, but now he can breathe easier and that throbbing pain behind his eyes is subsiding.
Something really bad happened, he realizes.
Something really, really bad, and he's lying in the middle of an impact crater in a field, his clothes scorched to threads.
Something really bad and Nathan!
Where is Nathan?!
He drags himself to his feet, crying out sharply at another crack and a crunch as something settles back into place and bones knit as tendons repair themselves again, this time in the right places. He doesn't care about that though -- the only thing on his mind now is finding Nathan.
He leaps into the air and as the sound of helicopter blades grow louder in the distance, he fades from sight, flying out in an ever-widening circle around the crater he realizes he made when he fell back to Earth.
* * *
He got there too late, he knows. Too late to stop it as he looks up into the sky and sees the bright burst of light. Too late, and if he'd stayed, if he'd done more, if he'd--
Bloody hell, they're all there, too. Every last one of 'em and none of 'em stopped it. The only one who did was the one he'd never believe had it in him, and it hurts he was wrong about that, too.
He stays invisible, sneaks past Bennet when the paramedics are making enough noise to mask even an elephant walking past, and runs in the direction of the trail of fire and smoke. If there's one thing he knows he can still do well, it's run...
* * *
Mohinder slows as he nears the door to his building. There's someone sitting there. A bum, looking for someone to open the door so he can sneak inside and squat in one of the empty apartments? He isn't sure, but something about the figure sends a rush of fear through him. Something...
The figure looks up and croaks something unintelligible. Blood splashes on lips made pale by shock. "Help me..." the man is pleading.
"Sylar!" Mohinder hisses, taking a step back.
"Please, help me..." and there's more blood, but the man doesn't seem to respond to that name.
"Zane?" he tries, holding his ground although he's trembling in something that isn't entirely fright.
"Please...?"
"Gabriel?" And this time there's a light of recognition in the man's eyes. He sees the pain there, too -- pain, and fear, and the vindictive side of himself is telling him to leave the man there; to let him bleed to death, even as he's helping him up and wrapping an arm around his waist, supporting the lean form despite the inches the man has on him. He's startlingly light, and icy cold to the touch. "Come on, Gabriel -- let me help you..."
He brings the man into his building, into his apartment which still shows signs of their last encounter there, shattered glass embedded randomly into the walls and broken furniture lying in splinters on the floor. He brings him into the bathroom and pulls off his jacket and shirt, gasps softly at the wound that goes right through him. "My god -- you should be dead..."
"Help me, please?" Gabriel mouths, then he falls unconscious in Mohinder's arms.
* * *
He finds his brother lying unconscious in the dunes, evidence of a rough landing scorched through the sparse grass before his unceremonious collapse in the sand. He's relieved beyond words for Nathan's foresight, to come down in some place out of the way and hopefully soft enough to avoid further injury, because what he's already done to his brother is bad enough.
He can hear the wheeze of Nathan's breath in singed lungs as he drops to his knees and cradles his brother in his arms. This isn't the way it's supposed to be -- he's not supposed to be the one clutching his brother's unconscious form to him, looking down at burned skin and singed hair and feeling nothing but pain and tiredness where there was life and vitality such a short time ago.
He's not supposed to be his brother's murderer...
"Nathan, please, wake up!" he gulps, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead, tentative hands stroking burned and blistered flesh, peeling away charred clothing. He can hear Nathan's heart beating, but it's so weak, not the strong thump he would curl into and fall asleep to in Nathan's arms. He lets out a despairing wail and clutches Nathan close, the sobs wrenching his recently regenerated body now and threatening to tear him apart once more. "Don't leave me, Nathan, please... Please don't leave me!" he begs, kissing his brother's cracked lips, tears streaming down his face. "I can't do this without you..."
* * *
Claude sees the trail scorched through the dunes, runs to find Peter sobbing over what he's sure must be Nathan's body. "Bloody hell..." Skids to a stop next to them and drops to his knees, ready to take Peter into his arms when Nathan lets out a wheezing groan and he realizes the man is somehow still alive. "Bloody hell, you idiot poodle, get him to a hospital, don't just sit here lettin' him die!"
Peter looks up in shock, realizing he's there, and the look in the boy's eyes is going to kill him. He never wanted to break him with their training, just make him realize he couldn't be a dreamer all the time, but this -- this he's scared has broken his Peter, and if Nathan dies, he knows it will.
"Get him to a hospital," he says again, slowly, because he's really not sure it's getting through. "Y'can fly, still, right? Ya got Niki's power, right? Y'can carry him and me, an' get us there right quick."
"Hospital..." Peter says, and Claude can see some sign of conscious thought returning to his eyes.
"Yeah, hospital. C'mon, Poodle, upsy daisy," he urges, standing and waiting while Peter scoops Nathan up like a broken doll. There's another painful groan and Peter looks down at his brother. When he looks up again, there's a fire of determination in his eyes, and Claude nods. "There ya go." Then he looks up at a sound and pales. "Shit, here they come..." He fades from sight and an instant later, Peter and Nathan join him, just as the helicopter makes a circle over the dunes.
Peter's voice is still rough from tears, but much more firm than Claude's used to hearing as he orders, "Wrap your arms around me and hold on -- I'll try to keep you there with telekinesis, but we're going now." And Claude barely has time to do so before Peter takes off and they're flying through the air at a terrifying speed. Claude clings for dear life as Peter cradles his brother protectively in his arms and flees.
* * *
and that's where I ran out of steam. Sorry, all -- just no time and argh going to be all wrong anyway... I was going to have them recover* and head down to one of the Petrelli houses in the Caribbean; collect Janice, rescue Sandra and Lyle, train Peter how to use his abilities, etc. etc....
*Claude was going to find someone he knew, a healer, and bring her to Peter so he could absorb the ability and safe Nathan from radiation poisoning. She wasn't going to be as powerful as Linderman, so no instant fix, and Nathan would have slowly been getting better over the four months between HTSAEM and the new season. And they were hiding out in the Caribbean to keep safe from Mama Petrelli.
Although the potential Petrellicest/Claude/Bennet orgy will show up elsewhere ;)
Oh yeah, and Mohinder was going to befriend Gabriel and slowly Gabriel was going to come to realize he might have done something horrible, but not remember for a bit that he was Sylar. 'Cause I kind of thought he'd be the one with the memory loss, and I'm very worried that I was wrong on that one... *stabbity stabbity* Jossed Kringed again!