A Life of Lies - Finale
Previous chapters
Author’s note: It’s the last chapter, y’all. There was a time when I didn’t think it would ever get this far, and it wouldn’t have without all the comments and without freetheelves2’s help. I thank you all.
Heidi, Peter, and Angela sit in comfortable silence, watching the flickers of the fire and sipping on glasses of a particular fine red wine from a bottle Nathan had opened earlier in the evening. Nathan walks back into the room, and takes his seat next to Heidi.
“Finally got them to sleep, did you?” Peter asks.
Nathan sips his wine, and sighs in appreciation. “Yeah, took forever. Simon kept asking if I was sure that Santa was coming, and Monty was just about bouncing off the walls. Which one of you gave him caffeine this close to bedtime?” He looks at them suspiciously, but no one admits to it. “I guess it’s just Christmas excitement. I finally got him to sleep by promising that when he wakes up, Santa will have come.”
“You do realize that those boys are entirely too old to still believe in Santa, don’t you?” Angela asks.
Heidi laughs. “Simon already doubts. He asked me three times this week if I was positive Santa exists, because he’s heard some nasty rumors at school saying otherwise. I’m thinking this will be the last year we manage to convince him. By the way, hand over some of those cookies.”
Peter passes over the plate of cookies the boys had left out for Santa, and Heidi takes a large peanut butter one. Tasting it, she breaks off some of the cookie and feeds it to her husband.
“Mmm. My favorite - who made these? I thought Cook was going to make those butterscotch ones for Pete.” Nathan steals the rest of the cookie from Heidi.
“Claire was teasing the boys, telling them that Santa likes it best when he gets homemade treats. An hour later, all three of them were covered in flour and giggling like lunatics, but I have to admit, they made some really tasty cookies.” Heidi chuckles. “Don’t worry, I got pictures.”
“Where is Claire?” Peter asks. “I thought she would join us this evening.”
Angela reaches over and takes a cookie from the plate on Heidi’s lap. “She was exhausted after our long day. I sent her on up to bed early. We should all be heading to bed; you know what tomorrow’s going to be like.”
Nathan looks over at the clock and groans. “Eleven already. If we go to bed right now, we might get seven hours before the boys wake up and all hell breaks loose.”
- - - - - - - - - -
The candles have burned down to mere flickers, and Sylar intuitively knows it must be close to midnight. The hot cocoa has been drunk, and is but a mere chocolate-flavored reminder on her lips when he kisses her. They’ve removed the blanket from the bed, and have it draped around them while they snuggle in the armchair by her window. They’ve already exchanged the small gifts they’ve gotten for each other, but he’s got one more that he’s hiding until the timing is perfect. She’s acting anxious, and he wonders if she knows about his plan.
The clock on the nightstand switches from 11:59 to 12:00, and Claire’s apparently been waiting for midnight to make her move. “I know we’ve already done the gift thing, but I’ve got something extra for you.” She removes herself from his lap, and goes over to where she’d thrown her purse earlier. She rifles through it, and pulls out something she quickly hides behind her back. Walking back over to him, she grins at him. “It’s just a little something, but I couldn’t go all the way to Washington on the day before Christmas and not get you anything, now could I?”
“You didn’t have to. I thought we agreed we were going to stick to a small budget for gifts?”
She takes his hands in hers. “It just cost me a wink and a promise, that’s all, but it you want, we’ll consider it an early New Year’s gift.” She seems nervous. “If you don’t want it, I can’t exactly return it, but you don’t have to take it. I just… I owed this to you. I promised myself, when all this started, that I was going to give you a new life, and well, it’s the only thing I could think of that you still needed.” She lets go of his hand, only to place a simple piece of paper on his open palm.
He looks down at the paper, and then looks again.
She laughs at his double-take. “It’s for real. Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”
Sylar can’t stop the shaking in his hands as he looks down at a Presidential pardon, forgiving him for all this sins, making him a free and unfettered man no longer hunted by any governmental or judicial body. The paper flutters to the ground as he pulls her back down for the first kiss of the rest of their lives. She giggles when he kisses all over her face and hair, and then her giggles turn to gasps when he carries her back over to their bed and uses his body to press her into the mattress.
“Love you so much, babydoll.” He kisses her again, more passionately this time, and then trails soft kisses down her cheek and onto her neck.
“Stop it, that tickles.” She giggles.
He listens to her, and focuses his mouth lower, lightly nipping at her collarbone. Taking advantage of the fact that Claire’s closed her eyes and is distracted by his lips, he uses his telekinesis to summon the small jewelry box from its hiding spot. He tastes the tender skin of her shoulder, and presses a kiss to her upper arm, and then two inches lower, and then two more, all the way down until he can lick over her pulse point on her wrist.
“Claire?”
“Yeah?” Her response is more of a gasp when he kisses her palm.
“I know I offered you the world before,” and he slides off the bed, kneeling beside it, “and you said no. Say yes this time?” He pops open the small box, and holds it before her.
She leans up on her elbows to look at him, and finds him on one knee, presenting her a diamond ring. She feels like she can’t breathe. “What?” It’s not the most elegant thing she could say, but it’s the only thing she can think of.
“Marry me.”
So many thoughts run through her head, and she wishes that he had telepathy so he could hear everything she’s thinking. She just stares at him for a minute before she’s able to whisper a quiet “yes.”
Both of their hands are shaking as he slowly slides the ring onto her finger, and she can’t stop a tear or two from escaping from her eyes. She looks at her ring, and then at her new fiancé. She doesn’t say another word, just leans forward and catches his mouth in a tender kiss. He breaks the kiss just long enough to crawl back into bed, and then takes her into his arms.
- - - - - - - - - -
Peter had quickly fallen asleep, almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. If anyone had been watching him, they would have seen him tossing and turning, mumbling in his sleep. He wakes up with a start, gasping. He knows that the dream will haunt him for the next few days, and wonders why in the world he’d dreamed something like that. He closes his eyes, attempting to shake the image of his mother’s bloody body from his mind. He tries to go back to sleep, but hears a giggle quickly followed by a moan. He rolls over onto his stomach, and pulls his pillow over his head in an attempt to block out all the noise. It doesn’t help, and he wishes that he could find some way of getting this new power under control. It’s not as dire a problem as it was when he first started absorbing powers, but he’s got to get the super-hearing under control before he goes insane.
He tries some of the mental exercises that Claude taught him, trying to focus on someone with a particular power. He’s so distracted by the soft pants and groans that he starts floating off the bed when he tries to focus on Nathan’s power. He thinks of how his wine glass iced over the night before, and finds his sheets are suddenly frozen stiff. He focuses on Ted’s powers, but the sheets just start smoking and smoldering instead of defrosting. Realizing that he needs to focus on someone with a more passive power, he thinks about Claire. He can’t imagine any way that cellular regeneration will keep him from sleeping or cause a catastrophe, so he thinks he’s safe in concentrating on her.
He focuses on his breathing, trying a form of meditation that has worked for him before. Breathe in, think of Claire; breathe out, think of what it feels like to heal. Breathe in, think of Claire; breathe out, listen to a particular load groan. No, no, he has to focus. Breathe in, think of Claire, breathe out; listen to Claire’s breathy moan as her partner urges her to come.
He jumps out of bed as his mind finally makes all the connections, and he wonders what he should do. He can’t just ignore it, but he can’t just burst into her room and throw a fit. He can’t believe that this entire time, he’s been listening to Claire and he decides there’s not enough mental bleach in the world to take care of the images suddenly dancing through his head.
He concludes that she’s Nathan’s problem, and if he can’t sleep because of her - well then, Nathan won’t either. He creeps down the hallway silently, trying to not wake his mother as he tiptoes past her room. He reaches Nathan’s bedroom, and knocks repeatedly on Nathan’s bedroom door.
Nathan pulls the door open, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What. Do. You. Want?”
“I heard it again!”
Nathan closes the door in his face, but doesn’t lock it in time. Peter pushes the door open.
“Peter, its twelve something in the morning. Christmas morning. The boys are going to be up and screaming bloody murder by six at the latest. Please, let me get some sleep.”
“But Nathan…”
“I don’t care if the maids are getting lucky. I’m not the morality police. Go back to bed, and use some earplugs.”
“But Nathan, I know who it is!”
“Bed, Peter. Now.” Nathan swears that it’s easier to corral his sons than it is to deal with his brother. He’s going to fall asleep on his feet if Peter doesn’t leave soon.
“Fine. If you don’t care that your daughter’s got a man in her room, then I sure don’t.”
Nathan’s suddenly wide awake. “Claire? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Come on.”
Peter can barely keep up with the furious father as he stomps down the hallway and up the stairs to Claire’s room. When he tries to open the door, he finds that it’s locked and Nathan starts shaking the handle like he can force the door open with his anger.
After an agonizingly long two minutes, Claire opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind her. She rubs her eyes with her right hand, like she’s been asleep, but they all know better. “What’s going on?”
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Nathan is yelling so loudly that it hurts Peter’s ears.
“Sleeping. You might want to try it sometime; it’s really kind of popular these days.”
“Don’t you dare mouth off to me, Claire. I know you’ve got a guy in there.” Nathan pounds on the door. “You, whoever you are, get out here now!”
She steps firmly in front of the door, and holds onto the handle with her left hand, hiding it from their view. “There’s no need for all the drama. Can’t we all go back to bed and talk in the morning?” Peter can tell that she’s trying to hold the door closed, and he wonders who she’s hiding.
“Claire, step away from that door, now.” Nathan crosses his arms over his chest.
“No! You’re not going to play the loving, devoted, concerned father now. It’s not like you really ever cared all that much before, except for a few days after your guards attacked me.” Tears start gathering in Claire’s eyes. Peter can tell that her words have hurt Nathan deeply.
Claire continues on before Nathan can respond. “Besides, I’m an adult. I can do whatever I’d like, with whomever I’d like.”
“No, you can’t. You’re a child, my child, and you’re entirely too young to have a man in your room. God, Claire, what were you thinking?” Nathan runs his hands through his hair.
A stray thought from Claire suddenly crosses Peter’s mind, and he gasps. Claire realizes that his telepathy must have betrayed her, and she takes a deep breath. She hadn’t planned on telling them like this, but since Peter already knows… “I was thinking I would celebrate my engagement to the man I’m going to marry.”
Nathan just stares at her with his mouth hanging open. “Your what with the who now?”
Claire lets go of the door handle, and stops hiding her hand behind her. She waves her left hand in front of her father and uncle, and the diamond gleams, catching the light from the window at the end of the hall and throwing rainbows on the carpet and walls. “My boyfriend just asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”
Peter watches as a tiny vein on Nathan’s forehead suddenly swells in size and starts throbbing, and he wonders if his brother’s going to blow a gasket. Instead, Nathan throws a fit. Just slightly different, really. He makes a move towards the door, and Claire calmly steps in front of him again. “Claire, get out of my way. I’m going to kill him, whoever he is. How dare he!” Nathan’s yelling, and Peter’s surprised everyone in the house isn’t awake yet.
The door slowly opens, and a man steps up behind her, and wraps his arms around her. She turns and buries her face in his chest.
Peter uses his telekinesis to flip the light switch at the edge of the hallway, and in the sudden fluorescent glare, he recognizes the man. “Sylar! Claire, get away from him!”
“Peter, dad,” Claire starts, leaving Nathan struck by the fact that she’s calling him ‘dad’ instead of ‘Nathan,' “I want you to meet my fiancé, Gabriel. You can call him Sylar if you’d like.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Peter’s tone of voice can only be described as a shriek, and Nathan’s surprised that his brother’s freaking out more than he is. “He’s a wanted murderer! Get away from him before he kills you!”
“Actually, I’m not wanted anymore.” Sylar corrects him. He waves his hand and a piece of paper flies out of the room. “The President pardoned me. I’m not going to hurt her, or any of you.”
“You… you… you…” Nathan starts stuttering, but stops and takes a deep breath. “How dare you? How dare you manipulate my daughter into thinking you love her and use her to get a pardon? I ought to kill you just for using her like this.”
“He’s not using me!” Claire responds. “I love him, he loves me, and we’re getting married. He never mentioned the pardon; that was all my idea and my doing.”
Nathan doesn’t say anything, just takes a few strides forward, pulls Claire out of the way, and punches Sylar as hard as he can. The man’s head pops backward, and blood gushes from his nose. Nathan feels a surge of satisfaction that he hasn’t felt in years, and decides he wants to see the man bleed some more. Instead, Sylar’s nose heals cleanly before his eyes.
“How the hell did you do that?” Peter wasn’t expecting to see that Sylar’s gained healing from somewhere, and he worries about his ability to take Sylar down in a fight now. “What poor soul did you kill for that?”
Sylar smiles softly at Claire, and Peter feels ill at the thought of how entangled Claire’s gotten with the man. “I didn’t kill anyone for it. Claire gave it to me.”
Nathan is still just staring at them. Peter jumps to the wrong conclusion, and goes berserk, thinking that Sylar had killed Claire and then seduced her when she came back to life. He can’t think clearly, he just wants to kill Sylar for daring to touch her, and he unconsciously calls up a ball of lightening and throws it at Sylar.
- - - - - - - - - -
Angela places her hand over Heidi’s, holding her back, and they watch as Nathan throws a punch that breaks Sylar’s nose. Angela’s not surprised when his nose immediately heals, but Heidi gasps. “How did… I thought Claire and Peter were the only ones who can heal like that?”
“Not anymore, dear. Listen, we’ve got to break this fight up before they do too much damage.”
Heidi sees Peter throw lightening at Sylar, and scorch the man’s hair. The dark locks immediately grow back out, and she sees a scorched mark on the door behind him. “I think it’s too late for that, Angela.”
Both women wince as Peter throws another punch at Sylar, this time calling upon his super-strength, only to have the other man duck just in time. Peter’s hand slams against the door, and Angela knows that he must have broken at least two fingers. She’s not particularly concerned, since she knows that they will heal instantly. “We’ve got to stop them. I’ve got a plan. You try to get Nathan under control, and I’ll deal with Peter. I’m sure Claire will take care of Sylar. Wait for a minute, they’ll start talking again, and then we’ll rush in.” Angela bites her lower lip, and Heidi recognizes the gesture - it’s the same one that she’s seen Peter and Claire do a million times. “Whatever happens, dear, don’t be scared. It’ll all work out as it’s supposed to.” She pats Heidi’s hand.
They wait a minute, until Claire throws herself in front of Sylar. “Stop it! Just stop it, please. Dad, Peter, don’t do this.”
Angela nods at Heidi, and they step from the stair landing into the hall. Heidi goes to Nathan, and tries to pull him away. He won’t budge, and she hopes that Angela’s having more luck getting Peter to listen to reason.
“Peter, stop this. You’re going to do something you regret.” Angela pleads with him. He stands there and glares at Sylar, before turning to look at her.
“Ma, its Sylar. He’s tried to kill Claire before - you saw what happened when he actually did kill me. I’ve got to do this.” His eyes harden with resolve, and her heart breaks.
“Peter, please, walk away from this before there’s blood on your hands. He’s not going to hurt her. Don’t do this.” She knows that it won’t do any good to warn him, but she’s got to try.
He smiles at her, and it’s the most evil thing she’s ever seen. “Don’t worry. It’ll just be his blood.” He takes a step closer to Sylar and Claire.
Angela closes her eyes, and prays for patience. “I’m asking you again, walk away from this. Don’t let your hatred blind you. Claire loves him, Peter, they’re getting married.”
“Over my dead body.” Peter growls. He sees that Claire’s got Sylar by the arm, and that the killer’s distracted. He ignores his mother’s warnings, and throws himself at Sylar again.
Angela backs away from the fight and from her reckless son. She wants to scream at him that it won’t be his body that ends up dead, but she knows it won’t do any good.
- - - - - - - - - -
Simon and Monty awake to the sounds of screaming, yelling, and loud thuds coming from the other end of the hall.
“Simon, are you awake?” Monty whispers.
“Yeah. What’s going on?” Simon asks his little brother.
Monty gets out of his bed, and crawls into Simon’s. “I don’t know but it sounds scary.” He sounds much younger than he actually is.
Simon wraps his arms around his brother and they both wince as they hear a particular loud boom. Simon tries to think about what could be happening, and comes to a frightening conclusion. “It is Christmas night, and Dad said we had to be nice and quiet because Santa was coming…”
Monty’s eyes light up. “Do you really think its Santa? Maybe his reindeer are making all the noise!”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It sounds like a fight, though. I don’t think Santa would fight.” Simon doesn’t voice his concern that maybe Santa’s not such a good guy after all. Maybe Dad had sent them to bed so that Santa couldn’t get them, not because Santa wanted to surprise them with toys and clothes and video games. Maybe that rumor at school about Santa not existing was a lie to keep them from knowing the real truth.
They listen to more yelling, and Monty wrinkles his brow. “That sounds like Dad and Uncle Peter arguing. Maybe Santa only brought one gift for them, and they can’t share.”
“Uncle Peter’s great about sharing, remember how he shared his ice cream with us last night?” Simon reasons. “Well, there’s only way to find out for sure. Come on, let’s find out.”
They hold hands as they push the door open and venture out into the hall. It’s not at all what they were expecting. Dad and Uncle Peter are fighting with a dark haired man, and Mom, Grandmamma, and Claire are yelling at all three of them to stop.
“Boys!” Their mom’s scream lets them know that they’ve been spotted. She turns back to Dad. “Stop it, Nathan! The boys are going to get hurt.”
The dark haired man glances at their mom, and then stops trying to hit Uncle Peter. Instead, he focuses on them and waves his hand at them. They’re surprised to find themselves flying backwards through the air and back into their room. The door to their room slams shut, and the boys are bounced up into the air and back into their beds. They hear a scraping sound as the hallway credenza slides in place to block their door from opening again. The sheets and blankets rise up into the air, and wrap themselves around the boys. No matter how they struggle, they can’t get up. The blankets aren’t so tight that they hurt, but they nevertheless soon cease the brothers fighting with their bedding. Simon thinks that was wicked cool, and wonders if the man would do it again if they asked politely.
“Simon?” Monty asks.
“Yeah, Monty?”
“Was Mom mad at us?” Monty sounds worried.
Simon thinks for a minute. “No, I think she was mad at Dad. Don’t worry; we’re not going to get coal in our stockings.”
Monty’s silent for a few more minutes. Simon can barely him whisper his next question. “That wasn’t Santa or one of his elves, was it?”
- - - - - - - - - -
“What did you do to my sons?” Nathan screams as he jumps at Sylar again, only to be held in place telekinetically.
Sylar doesn’t bother to spare him a second glance as he continues trading blows with Peter. “I sent them back to bed. I didn’t hurt them; I just made sure that they won’t wander out into the hall again.”
“Leave my sons alone, and leave my daughter alone too!”
“I don’t want to fight you, Nathan. I don’t want Claire’s brothers to get hurt by accident either, I just got them out of the way of the fight.” Sylar loosens his telekinetic grasp on Claire’ father, and lets him fall to the floor. He’s not expecting the older man to rush him, and he uses his telekinesis to throw him to the other end of the hallway. Nathan slams into the wall, and then crumbles to the ground, not moving.
Heidi runs to his side and kneels by her husband. She runs her hands over him, trying to find any injuries. Satisfied that the only thing hurt is his pride, she helps him to his feet. She grabs him by the elbow before he can rejoin the fight. “Nathan.” She starts to chide him, and he jerks away from him. “Oh no you don’t, Nathan.” She steps in front of him, and puts her hands on his shoulders, like she can hold him in place. “You’re through fighting.”
“Heidi, step out of my way. I’ve got to help Peter take care of Sylar before he destroys this house and kills us all.” Nathan tries to twist out of her hold, and she tightens her grasp.
“No, Nathan. He just tried to help us by getting our boys out of danger.” She sees that he’s not listening to her, and shakes him. “Are you blind? Take a good look over there,” and she turns him to look at the fight, “and tell me what you see.”
They watch for a few minutes. Peter throws a fireball at Sylar, but misses the man and sets the wall on fire instead. Using one hand to control his telekinesis to hold Peter in place for a minute, Sylar uses his other to quickly throw ice at the wall before the fire spreads. He has trouble controlling the fire, and has to let Peter go to focus on the ice. Peter sees his opponent’s distraction, and telekinetically yanks the hall mirror off the wall and flings it at Sylar. His aim holds true this time, and Peter manages to hit score a direct hit on Sylar’s chest. Nathan winces as he hears the man’s ribs cracking. “I see my brother fighting a fight I should be helping him with. Let me go, Heidi.”
“Then you don’t see what I see. How did Peter manage to hit him just then? Even I saw it coming, so that should have been an easy blow to duck away from.” Heidi asks, trying to lead her husband to the answer.
“You’re right, Peter telegraphed his every move. I’ve warned him about that. If Sylar had just ducked or turned to the right…” Nathan replays the scene in his mind, and sighs. “If he’d ducked, Peter would have hit Claire instead. She wasn’t paying any attention. Sylar knew it, and took the blow instead.”
“Exactly. I’ve been yelling at you two morons to stop for the last few minutes, and you wouldn’t listen. He could have attacked Peter, but instead he put out the fire before this entire house burns down around us. He’s purposely taking hits he could avoid to protect Claire. He loves Claire, and you two need to stop attacking him.”
“But Heidi, he started it all.” Nathan’s ashamed at how whiny he sounds.
“Bullshit, Nathan.” Nathan’s shocked at his wife’s language. “I saw you punch him - you started it. If you’re talking about using your powers to fight, Peter started it. Sylar has yet to make an offensive move; everything he’s done has been in defense. You have got to stop this fight.”
“Heidi, he’s going to hurt Claire. We’re doing this for her.” Nathan tries to explain.
“No, you’re going to end up hurting Claire. Peter’s going to hit her by accident, or you’re going to hurt her by demanding that she give up the man she loves.” Heidi puts her hands on Nathan’s shoulders again, and looks him in the eye. “I know she’s your little girl, but you’ve got to let her go. She’s going to marry him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. She’s grown up, Nathan, and you’re refusing to see it. Stop this fighting before you irrevocably ruin your relationship with your daughter.”
“She’s so young, and he’s evil!” Nathan can’t let his only daughter go easily.
“To tell you the truth, Peter looks more evil than Sylar does right now. Besides, she’s only a few months younger than I was when we got married.”
Nathan scoffs. “Yeah, but we only got married because you…” he starts to say, breaking off in silence when he sees the fury on his wife’s face.
“You had better not finish that sentence, mister. We only got married because we loved each other; there’s nothing on the face of the earth that could have made me marry you unless I loved you.” She cradles his face, and then kisses him softly and tenderly, a perfect replica of the kiss during their wedding. “I love you, Nathan. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how I look at you?”
“Of course, Heidi.” Nathan kisses her again, wondering why she’s bringing this up now.
“Then why can’t you see that your daughter looks at Sylar in the exact same way? They love each other, Nathan, so let them be happy. You know what, my father said the exact same things about you, and I told him I just didn’t care. We fought over you, albeit not like this, but I knew I was right. Stop this fight, Nathan, and give them your blessing before someone ends up getting hurt.”
- - - - - - - - - -
Sylar’s getting tired of fighting. He knew that Claire’s family wouldn’t take the news well, but he didn’t think they’d try to kill him. He ducks as Peter telekinetically throws something at him again. All the sconces are off the walls, and they’re using them as projectiles to toss at each other. He gets inspired when he looks up, and throws Peter back against the window and uses the curtains to hold him in place. “Peter, I’m telling you, stop this now. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I’m not playing this game with you for much longer.”
The smaller man bucks against his restraints, and Sylar wonders how long it’ll take him before he destroys the curtains. “Peter, I swear to you I’m not going to hurt Claire, or anyone else. Those days are over, I don’t need to kill to get powers any more.”
Angela steps up and stands besides Sylar. “Peter,” she begs her son, “just talk to the man. He’s telling the truth. I’ve seen it, Peter, I’ve known this entire time about Claire and Sylar. He really has changed. He’s going to be your best friend in the future, if you just give him a chance; you’re even going to name you son after him, Peter. Let’s just talk this out like civilized adults.”
He can’t believe that his mother is taking Sylar’s side. Peter thinks about his options, and knows that he can’t win against Sylar, Claire, and Angela. “Ok, I give, let’s talk.”
Sylar smiles at him, and Peter finds himself falling to the floor. Angela places her hand on Sylar’s shoulder, and leads him to the stairs. Nathan looks at him and shrugs, as if to say ‘we tried the best we could’. Peter wonders what Heidi had said to Nathan to make him finally give up the fight.
“Come on, boys, let’s go down to the living room.” Angela calls out to them. “Heidi, Claire, why don’t you check on the boys and then catch up with us. I think my boys and I need to have a little conversation.”
Nathan and Peter follow Angela and Sylar down the stairs, and Peter’s still furious. He’s realized that his mother was right, and he tries his best to calm. He’s on the verge of succeeding when he notices, for the first time that night, that Sylar’s wearing nothing but a robe and boxers. He starts fuming again as he thinks about why the man’s so under-dressed, and he starts to lose his tenuous control on his temper. He reminds himself that he’s got to give the man a chance, for his mother’s and niece’s sakes, even if he doesn’t want to. He focuses on his breathing, and tries to relax.
They get to the living room, and Nathan crosses his arms over his chest. “Ok, talk. Make it good.”
“I’ve got nothing left to say. I told you everything upstairs.” Sylar’s tired and just wants to be back in bed again. He wonders if they’re going to make him stay away from Claire, and he wishes that they’d had more time before Nathan and Peter had interrupted them.
Peter takes a ragged breath, and stumbles when he hears Sylar’s thoughts.
“Pete, you ok?” Nathan asks, worried that he’s exerted too much energy during the fight.
“Yeah, peachy keen.” Peter’s starting to get a headache, and it intensifies when Sylar can’t keep his damn mind off Claire. “Could you cut that out?”
“What?” Sylar tries to look innocent, but pushes another thought of Claire at him. He knows he shouldn’t torment Peter like this, but now that they’re not fighting, it’s almost fun. He thinks about what a wildcat she can be, and how demanding she is, and how he loves to make her scream.
Peter’s turning pale and has his eyes closed, trying his hardest to turn his telepathy off. The last straw is when he hears Sylar gloating about how he’d taken her virginity, and Peter loses his battle. Eyes still closed, he uses his telekinesis to hurl the fireplace poker at Sylar like a javelin.
He doesn’t sees his mother step in front of Sylar and use herself as a shield, and he only opens his eyes when he hears Nathan scream. It’s just like his nightmare from earlier that night, and he wants to scream, too.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sylar’s not expecting Angela to step in front of him and take a blow meant for him, and as she falls, he catches her in his arms. He exchanges horrified looks with Nathan. The fireplace poker had gone straight through her upper body, and emerged from her back. Sylar doesn’t know what to do, if he should remove the poker or not.
“Oh God.” Nathan begs. “Oh God, please no, please.”
“Nathan!” Sylar snaps at him. “Pull yourself together and help me before she bleeds to death.” He sees Peter taking a step towards him, and for the first time that night, puts his full power behind his attack. Peter’s unconscious and pinned to the wall before Sylar can blink, and he turns his focus back to Claire’s grandmother. “Help me, Nathan. We need to pull the poker out.”
Nathan blanches. “We can’t do that, we need to call 911. She’ll die before they can get here if we remove that thing.” He can barely look at his mother.
“I can heal her; we just need to get it out first.” Sylar’s never been so glad that he’s got Claire’s power and knows how to use it. “Hold her still, and on three, I’ll pull it out. One… two… three!” The poker flies across the room and embeds itself in the wall near Peter. Angela takes a ragged breath, and Nathan stares horrified at the how much blood she’s losing.
Sylar places one hand on her forehead and one hand on top of her wound, and focuses on sensing the damage. He loses himself as he does his best to heal every wound, fixing every blood vessel and torn muscle, but there’s so much work to do. The poker had come so close to her heart, and her left lung’s deflated - he’s worried about his ability to heal this much destruction.
“Nate…” she whispers.
“Shh, mother. Let him help you. Be still.” Nathan grasps her hand with his, surprised that she’s still able to talk.
“Love you all.” Her eyes close, and Sylar knows that she’s slipping away. He doubles his efforts, focusing on Claire and her abilities. Even though he’s doing the best he can, her heart stops beating. Nothing he does gets it going again, and he’s worried that he’s lost her already. “Nathan, focus, I need you to do CPR while I try to fix this.”
“I don’t know CPR.” Nathan confesses. “Can you talk me through it?”
“I can do it.” Sylar and Nathan turn to face Peter, unaware that he was conscious again. “Let me down. I’ll help you.”
“You’re the one that did this!” Nathan roars at his brother, but Sylar releases him anyhow.
Peter rushes to them, and falls to his knees. He starts chest compressions as Sylar continues his work. Sylar knows that they’ve been successful when he hears the tiny fluttering that indicates that her heart’s beating on it’s on again, and she takes a deep breath. Peter starts crying, and Sylar can’t blame the man.
“Thank you.” Sylar can barely hear Nathan’s soft whisper.
Sylar shakes his head, and shrugs. “I didn’t do anything special. It’s Claire’s power.”
“No, you did.” Peter agrees with Nathan. “It was my fault, and I wouldn’t have been able to heal her like you did. You could have let her die. Thank you.” He puts his hand on Sylar’s shoulder, and while it feels odd to him, he knows it’s a peace sign that the Petrellis are finally ready to accept him.
- - - - - - - - - -
Claire thinks that she’s walked into some sort of alternate reality when she and Heidi step into the living room. Sylar’s sitting on the couch. Angela’s lying down on the couch, with her head in Sylar’s lap. Nathan and Peter are perched on the arms of the chair, Peter sitting so close to Sylar that he’s almost hugging the man. The Christmas tree is lying on the ground, toppled over sideways, and there are ornaments and a fireplace poker embedded in the wall.
“What in the hell happened in here?” Heidi asks the same question that Claire’s thinking. Heidi walks over to the couch, and wraps her arms around Nathan.
The men and Angela had agreed that they wouldn’t tell Heidi, Claire, or the boys, so Nathan just smiles weakly at them. “We had a few… issues.”
Claire thinks her father should win the ‘understatement of the year’ award as she notices the giant bloodstain in the middle of the floor. Sylar slowly gets up, making sure to put a hand under Angela’s head and gently lowering it onto a pillow. He walks over to her, and pulls her into a deep kiss. She’s expecting her dad and Peter to throw another fit, but they don’t say anything - they just sit there and smile at her instead.
“Seriously,” she asks as she rests her forehead against his, “what happened?”
“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here, wearing my ring, under the mistletoe.” He kisses her again.
Heidi and Nathan watch as Claire tenderly holds her fiancé, and Heidi presses a kiss against her husband’s brow. “Remember when that was us?”
“Yeah. You were right.”
She giggles. “Of course I was right.” She looks over at the couple again, and hopes that Claire and Sylar will always love each other as much as she and Nathan do. She also hopes that she’ll be able to book St. Patrick’s cathedral for Valentine’s Day; she doesn’t think they’ll be able to wait much longer than that.
- - - - - - - - - -
They’ve stayed up all night, talking and laughing. Heidi and Nathan are sharing the love seat, and Peter’s sitting on the floor in front of them. Angela’s got one side of the couch, and Sylar and Claire are cuddling on the other end. They’d managed to get the room back to order, and they’re just waiting for the boys to come down for Christmas now.
The sun’s starting to rise when Peter looks at the clock. “Well, would you look at that? It’s after seven, and the boys still aren’t up.”
Sylar looks guilty. “I might have tucked them in too tightly. Someone might need to make sure that they’re not still tied to their beds.”
Claire laughs. “We took care of that while you were having your little discussion down here. Promise me that you’re not going to tie our kids to the bed.” She sees Sylar’s stricken look, and quickly clarifies her comment. “When we have kids many many many years from now.”
“Now, don’t be so hasty, Claire,” Nathan warns her, “You don’t know what kids can be like on Christmas night and Christmas morning. If I’d thought of it, I would have tied them up last night, so don’t knock his idea.” He sees the glare that his wife gives him, and throws his hands up in the air. “I was just joking, Heidi.” She lightly smacks his arm, but then softly kisses him. Peter makes gagging sounds, and Nathan whacks him in the head with one of the throw pillows.
“Boys, they never really grow up.” Angela comments wryly.
They jump when they hear a loud crash from upstairs, and the boys come thundering down the stairs like a pack of wild elephants. They come running into the room, and throw themselves at the gifts under the tree. Less than five minutes later, and the room looks like they’ve been hit with flurries of wrapping paper and the boys are playing with countless toys.
“Claire?” Angela asks. “I think I see another present. It’s way in the back. How about you grab that, please?”
Claire reaches behind the tree, and finds a small package almost hidden under the tree skirt. She looks at her grandmother, confused, when she sees that it’s addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Gray.
Angela smiles at her. “Well, go on, open it.”
Claire makes her way back over to Sylar’s side, and they open it together. It’s another small jewelry box. They exchange baffled glances, and Sylar flips the lid open. Inside are two matching wedding bands, and Claire’s surprised to find that they match her engagement ring.
“The rings belonged to my parents. I wasn’t sure I was going to able to give them to you today,” Angela confesses and then glances over at Sylar, “seeing how he’s been carrying my mother’s engagement ring around since April. I’d just about given up on him ever giving it to you.”
She laughs as she sees the bewildered looks on everyone’s faces. “Did you honestly think this all happened by accident? Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me - just be sure to name one of my great-grandbabies after me.”
They did, but that’s another story…
Author’s note: It’s the last chapter, y’all. There was a time when I didn’t think it would ever get this far, and it wouldn’t have without all the comments and without freetheelves2’s help. I thank you all.
Heidi, Peter, and Angela sit in comfortable silence, watching the flickers of the fire and sipping on glasses of a particular fine red wine from a bottle Nathan had opened earlier in the evening. Nathan walks back into the room, and takes his seat next to Heidi.
“Finally got them to sleep, did you?” Peter asks.
Nathan sips his wine, and sighs in appreciation. “Yeah, took forever. Simon kept asking if I was sure that Santa was coming, and Monty was just about bouncing off the walls. Which one of you gave him caffeine this close to bedtime?” He looks at them suspiciously, but no one admits to it. “I guess it’s just Christmas excitement. I finally got him to sleep by promising that when he wakes up, Santa will have come.”
“You do realize that those boys are entirely too old to still believe in Santa, don’t you?” Angela asks.
Heidi laughs. “Simon already doubts. He asked me three times this week if I was positive Santa exists, because he’s heard some nasty rumors at school saying otherwise. I’m thinking this will be the last year we manage to convince him. By the way, hand over some of those cookies.”
Peter passes over the plate of cookies the boys had left out for Santa, and Heidi takes a large peanut butter one. Tasting it, she breaks off some of the cookie and feeds it to her husband.
“Mmm. My favorite - who made these? I thought Cook was going to make those butterscotch ones for Pete.” Nathan steals the rest of the cookie from Heidi.
“Claire was teasing the boys, telling them that Santa likes it best when he gets homemade treats. An hour later, all three of them were covered in flour and giggling like lunatics, but I have to admit, they made some really tasty cookies.” Heidi chuckles. “Don’t worry, I got pictures.”
“Where is Claire?” Peter asks. “I thought she would join us this evening.”
Angela reaches over and takes a cookie from the plate on Heidi’s lap. “She was exhausted after our long day. I sent her on up to bed early. We should all be heading to bed; you know what tomorrow’s going to be like.”
Nathan looks over at the clock and groans. “Eleven already. If we go to bed right now, we might get seven hours before the boys wake up and all hell breaks loose.”
- - - - - - - - - -
The candles have burned down to mere flickers, and Sylar intuitively knows it must be close to midnight. The hot cocoa has been drunk, and is but a mere chocolate-flavored reminder on her lips when he kisses her. They’ve removed the blanket from the bed, and have it draped around them while they snuggle in the armchair by her window. They’ve already exchanged the small gifts they’ve gotten for each other, but he’s got one more that he’s hiding until the timing is perfect. She’s acting anxious, and he wonders if she knows about his plan.
The clock on the nightstand switches from 11:59 to 12:00, and Claire’s apparently been waiting for midnight to make her move. “I know we’ve already done the gift thing, but I’ve got something extra for you.” She removes herself from his lap, and goes over to where she’d thrown her purse earlier. She rifles through it, and pulls out something she quickly hides behind her back. Walking back over to him, she grins at him. “It’s just a little something, but I couldn’t go all the way to Washington on the day before Christmas and not get you anything, now could I?”
“You didn’t have to. I thought we agreed we were going to stick to a small budget for gifts?”
She takes his hands in hers. “It just cost me a wink and a promise, that’s all, but it you want, we’ll consider it an early New Year’s gift.” She seems nervous. “If you don’t want it, I can’t exactly return it, but you don’t have to take it. I just… I owed this to you. I promised myself, when all this started, that I was going to give you a new life, and well, it’s the only thing I could think of that you still needed.” She lets go of his hand, only to place a simple piece of paper on his open palm.
He looks down at the paper, and then looks again.
She laughs at his double-take. “It’s for real. Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”
Sylar can’t stop the shaking in his hands as he looks down at a Presidential pardon, forgiving him for all this sins, making him a free and unfettered man no longer hunted by any governmental or judicial body. The paper flutters to the ground as he pulls her back down for the first kiss of the rest of their lives. She giggles when he kisses all over her face and hair, and then her giggles turn to gasps when he carries her back over to their bed and uses his body to press her into the mattress.
“Love you so much, babydoll.” He kisses her again, more passionately this time, and then trails soft kisses down her cheek and onto her neck.
“Stop it, that tickles.” She giggles.
He listens to her, and focuses his mouth lower, lightly nipping at her collarbone. Taking advantage of the fact that Claire’s closed her eyes and is distracted by his lips, he uses his telekinesis to summon the small jewelry box from its hiding spot. He tastes the tender skin of her shoulder, and presses a kiss to her upper arm, and then two inches lower, and then two more, all the way down until he can lick over her pulse point on her wrist.
“Claire?”
“Yeah?” Her response is more of a gasp when he kisses her palm.
“I know I offered you the world before,” and he slides off the bed, kneeling beside it, “and you said no. Say yes this time?” He pops open the small box, and holds it before her.
She leans up on her elbows to look at him, and finds him on one knee, presenting her a diamond ring. She feels like she can’t breathe. “What?” It’s not the most elegant thing she could say, but it’s the only thing she can think of.
“Marry me.”
So many thoughts run through her head, and she wishes that he had telepathy so he could hear everything she’s thinking. She just stares at him for a minute before she’s able to whisper a quiet “yes.”
Both of their hands are shaking as he slowly slides the ring onto her finger, and she can’t stop a tear or two from escaping from her eyes. She looks at her ring, and then at her new fiancé. She doesn’t say another word, just leans forward and catches his mouth in a tender kiss. He breaks the kiss just long enough to crawl back into bed, and then takes her into his arms.
- - - - - - - - - -
Peter had quickly fallen asleep, almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. If anyone had been watching him, they would have seen him tossing and turning, mumbling in his sleep. He wakes up with a start, gasping. He knows that the dream will haunt him for the next few days, and wonders why in the world he’d dreamed something like that. He closes his eyes, attempting to shake the image of his mother’s bloody body from his mind. He tries to go back to sleep, but hears a giggle quickly followed by a moan. He rolls over onto his stomach, and pulls his pillow over his head in an attempt to block out all the noise. It doesn’t help, and he wishes that he could find some way of getting this new power under control. It’s not as dire a problem as it was when he first started absorbing powers, but he’s got to get the super-hearing under control before he goes insane.
He tries some of the mental exercises that Claude taught him, trying to focus on someone with a particular power. He’s so distracted by the soft pants and groans that he starts floating off the bed when he tries to focus on Nathan’s power. He thinks of how his wine glass iced over the night before, and finds his sheets are suddenly frozen stiff. He focuses on Ted’s powers, but the sheets just start smoking and smoldering instead of defrosting. Realizing that he needs to focus on someone with a more passive power, he thinks about Claire. He can’t imagine any way that cellular regeneration will keep him from sleeping or cause a catastrophe, so he thinks he’s safe in concentrating on her.
He focuses on his breathing, trying a form of meditation that has worked for him before. Breathe in, think of Claire; breathe out, think of what it feels like to heal. Breathe in, think of Claire; breathe out, listen to a particular load groan. No, no, he has to focus. Breathe in, think of Claire, breathe out; listen to Claire’s breathy moan as her partner urges her to come.
He jumps out of bed as his mind finally makes all the connections, and he wonders what he should do. He can’t just ignore it, but he can’t just burst into her room and throw a fit. He can’t believe that this entire time, he’s been listening to Claire and he decides there’s not enough mental bleach in the world to take care of the images suddenly dancing through his head.
He concludes that she’s Nathan’s problem, and if he can’t sleep because of her - well then, Nathan won’t either. He creeps down the hallway silently, trying to not wake his mother as he tiptoes past her room. He reaches Nathan’s bedroom, and knocks repeatedly on Nathan’s bedroom door.
Nathan pulls the door open, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What. Do. You. Want?”
“I heard it again!”
Nathan closes the door in his face, but doesn’t lock it in time. Peter pushes the door open.
“Peter, its twelve something in the morning. Christmas morning. The boys are going to be up and screaming bloody murder by six at the latest. Please, let me get some sleep.”
“But Nathan…”
“I don’t care if the maids are getting lucky. I’m not the morality police. Go back to bed, and use some earplugs.”
“But Nathan, I know who it is!”
“Bed, Peter. Now.” Nathan swears that it’s easier to corral his sons than it is to deal with his brother. He’s going to fall asleep on his feet if Peter doesn’t leave soon.
“Fine. If you don’t care that your daughter’s got a man in her room, then I sure don’t.”
Nathan’s suddenly wide awake. “Claire? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Come on.”
Peter can barely keep up with the furious father as he stomps down the hallway and up the stairs to Claire’s room. When he tries to open the door, he finds that it’s locked and Nathan starts shaking the handle like he can force the door open with his anger.
After an agonizingly long two minutes, Claire opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind her. She rubs her eyes with her right hand, like she’s been asleep, but they all know better. “What’s going on?”
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Nathan is yelling so loudly that it hurts Peter’s ears.
“Sleeping. You might want to try it sometime; it’s really kind of popular these days.”
“Don’t you dare mouth off to me, Claire. I know you’ve got a guy in there.” Nathan pounds on the door. “You, whoever you are, get out here now!”
She steps firmly in front of the door, and holds onto the handle with her left hand, hiding it from their view. “There’s no need for all the drama. Can’t we all go back to bed and talk in the morning?” Peter can tell that she’s trying to hold the door closed, and he wonders who she’s hiding.
“Claire, step away from that door, now.” Nathan crosses his arms over his chest.
“No! You’re not going to play the loving, devoted, concerned father now. It’s not like you really ever cared all that much before, except for a few days after your guards attacked me.” Tears start gathering in Claire’s eyes. Peter can tell that her words have hurt Nathan deeply.
Claire continues on before Nathan can respond. “Besides, I’m an adult. I can do whatever I’d like, with whomever I’d like.”
“No, you can’t. You’re a child, my child, and you’re entirely too young to have a man in your room. God, Claire, what were you thinking?” Nathan runs his hands through his hair.
A stray thought from Claire suddenly crosses Peter’s mind, and he gasps. Claire realizes that his telepathy must have betrayed her, and she takes a deep breath. She hadn’t planned on telling them like this, but since Peter already knows… “I was thinking I would celebrate my engagement to the man I’m going to marry.”
Nathan just stares at her with his mouth hanging open. “Your what with the who now?”
Claire lets go of the door handle, and stops hiding her hand behind her. She waves her left hand in front of her father and uncle, and the diamond gleams, catching the light from the window at the end of the hall and throwing rainbows on the carpet and walls. “My boyfriend just asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”
Peter watches as a tiny vein on Nathan’s forehead suddenly swells in size and starts throbbing, and he wonders if his brother’s going to blow a gasket. Instead, Nathan throws a fit. Just slightly different, really. He makes a move towards the door, and Claire calmly steps in front of him again. “Claire, get out of my way. I’m going to kill him, whoever he is. How dare he!” Nathan’s yelling, and Peter’s surprised everyone in the house isn’t awake yet.
The door slowly opens, and a man steps up behind her, and wraps his arms around her. She turns and buries her face in his chest.
Peter uses his telekinesis to flip the light switch at the edge of the hallway, and in the sudden fluorescent glare, he recognizes the man. “Sylar! Claire, get away from him!”
“Peter, dad,” Claire starts, leaving Nathan struck by the fact that she’s calling him ‘dad’ instead of ‘Nathan,' “I want you to meet my fiancé, Gabriel. You can call him Sylar if you’d like.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Peter’s tone of voice can only be described as a shriek, and Nathan’s surprised that his brother’s freaking out more than he is. “He’s a wanted murderer! Get away from him before he kills you!”
“Actually, I’m not wanted anymore.” Sylar corrects him. He waves his hand and a piece of paper flies out of the room. “The President pardoned me. I’m not going to hurt her, or any of you.”
“You… you… you…” Nathan starts stuttering, but stops and takes a deep breath. “How dare you? How dare you manipulate my daughter into thinking you love her and use her to get a pardon? I ought to kill you just for using her like this.”
“He’s not using me!” Claire responds. “I love him, he loves me, and we’re getting married. He never mentioned the pardon; that was all my idea and my doing.”
Nathan doesn’t say anything, just takes a few strides forward, pulls Claire out of the way, and punches Sylar as hard as he can. The man’s head pops backward, and blood gushes from his nose. Nathan feels a surge of satisfaction that he hasn’t felt in years, and decides he wants to see the man bleed some more. Instead, Sylar’s nose heals cleanly before his eyes.
“How the hell did you do that?” Peter wasn’t expecting to see that Sylar’s gained healing from somewhere, and he worries about his ability to take Sylar down in a fight now. “What poor soul did you kill for that?”
Sylar smiles softly at Claire, and Peter feels ill at the thought of how entangled Claire’s gotten with the man. “I didn’t kill anyone for it. Claire gave it to me.”
Nathan is still just staring at them. Peter jumps to the wrong conclusion, and goes berserk, thinking that Sylar had killed Claire and then seduced her when she came back to life. He can’t think clearly, he just wants to kill Sylar for daring to touch her, and he unconsciously calls up a ball of lightening and throws it at Sylar.
- - - - - - - - - -
Angela places her hand over Heidi’s, holding her back, and they watch as Nathan throws a punch that breaks Sylar’s nose. Angela’s not surprised when his nose immediately heals, but Heidi gasps. “How did… I thought Claire and Peter were the only ones who can heal like that?”
“Not anymore, dear. Listen, we’ve got to break this fight up before they do too much damage.”
Heidi sees Peter throw lightening at Sylar, and scorch the man’s hair. The dark locks immediately grow back out, and she sees a scorched mark on the door behind him. “I think it’s too late for that, Angela.”
Both women wince as Peter throws another punch at Sylar, this time calling upon his super-strength, only to have the other man duck just in time. Peter’s hand slams against the door, and Angela knows that he must have broken at least two fingers. She’s not particularly concerned, since she knows that they will heal instantly. “We’ve got to stop them. I’ve got a plan. You try to get Nathan under control, and I’ll deal with Peter. I’m sure Claire will take care of Sylar. Wait for a minute, they’ll start talking again, and then we’ll rush in.” Angela bites her lower lip, and Heidi recognizes the gesture - it’s the same one that she’s seen Peter and Claire do a million times. “Whatever happens, dear, don’t be scared. It’ll all work out as it’s supposed to.” She pats Heidi’s hand.
They wait a minute, until Claire throws herself in front of Sylar. “Stop it! Just stop it, please. Dad, Peter, don’t do this.”
Angela nods at Heidi, and they step from the stair landing into the hall. Heidi goes to Nathan, and tries to pull him away. He won’t budge, and she hopes that Angela’s having more luck getting Peter to listen to reason.
“Peter, stop this. You’re going to do something you regret.” Angela pleads with him. He stands there and glares at Sylar, before turning to look at her.
“Ma, its Sylar. He’s tried to kill Claire before - you saw what happened when he actually did kill me. I’ve got to do this.” His eyes harden with resolve, and her heart breaks.
“Peter, please, walk away from this before there’s blood on your hands. He’s not going to hurt her. Don’t do this.” She knows that it won’t do any good to warn him, but she’s got to try.
He smiles at her, and it’s the most evil thing she’s ever seen. “Don’t worry. It’ll just be his blood.” He takes a step closer to Sylar and Claire.
Angela closes her eyes, and prays for patience. “I’m asking you again, walk away from this. Don’t let your hatred blind you. Claire loves him, Peter, they’re getting married.”
“Over my dead body.” Peter growls. He sees that Claire’s got Sylar by the arm, and that the killer’s distracted. He ignores his mother’s warnings, and throws himself at Sylar again.
Angela backs away from the fight and from her reckless son. She wants to scream at him that it won’t be his body that ends up dead, but she knows it won’t do any good.
- - - - - - - - - -
Simon and Monty awake to the sounds of screaming, yelling, and loud thuds coming from the other end of the hall.
“Simon, are you awake?” Monty whispers.
“Yeah. What’s going on?” Simon asks his little brother.
Monty gets out of his bed, and crawls into Simon’s. “I don’t know but it sounds scary.” He sounds much younger than he actually is.
Simon wraps his arms around his brother and they both wince as they hear a particular loud boom. Simon tries to think about what could be happening, and comes to a frightening conclusion. “It is Christmas night, and Dad said we had to be nice and quiet because Santa was coming…”
Monty’s eyes light up. “Do you really think its Santa? Maybe his reindeer are making all the noise!”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It sounds like a fight, though. I don’t think Santa would fight.” Simon doesn’t voice his concern that maybe Santa’s not such a good guy after all. Maybe Dad had sent them to bed so that Santa couldn’t get them, not because Santa wanted to surprise them with toys and clothes and video games. Maybe that rumor at school about Santa not existing was a lie to keep them from knowing the real truth.
They listen to more yelling, and Monty wrinkles his brow. “That sounds like Dad and Uncle Peter arguing. Maybe Santa only brought one gift for them, and they can’t share.”
“Uncle Peter’s great about sharing, remember how he shared his ice cream with us last night?” Simon reasons. “Well, there’s only way to find out for sure. Come on, let’s find out.”
They hold hands as they push the door open and venture out into the hall. It’s not at all what they were expecting. Dad and Uncle Peter are fighting with a dark haired man, and Mom, Grandmamma, and Claire are yelling at all three of them to stop.
“Boys!” Their mom’s scream lets them know that they’ve been spotted. She turns back to Dad. “Stop it, Nathan! The boys are going to get hurt.”
The dark haired man glances at their mom, and then stops trying to hit Uncle Peter. Instead, he focuses on them and waves his hand at them. They’re surprised to find themselves flying backwards through the air and back into their room. The door to their room slams shut, and the boys are bounced up into the air and back into their beds. They hear a scraping sound as the hallway credenza slides in place to block their door from opening again. The sheets and blankets rise up into the air, and wrap themselves around the boys. No matter how they struggle, they can’t get up. The blankets aren’t so tight that they hurt, but they nevertheless soon cease the brothers fighting with their bedding. Simon thinks that was wicked cool, and wonders if the man would do it again if they asked politely.
“Simon?” Monty asks.
“Yeah, Monty?”
“Was Mom mad at us?” Monty sounds worried.
Simon thinks for a minute. “No, I think she was mad at Dad. Don’t worry; we’re not going to get coal in our stockings.”
Monty’s silent for a few more minutes. Simon can barely him whisper his next question. “That wasn’t Santa or one of his elves, was it?”
- - - - - - - - - -
“What did you do to my sons?” Nathan screams as he jumps at Sylar again, only to be held in place telekinetically.
Sylar doesn’t bother to spare him a second glance as he continues trading blows with Peter. “I sent them back to bed. I didn’t hurt them; I just made sure that they won’t wander out into the hall again.”
“Leave my sons alone, and leave my daughter alone too!”
“I don’t want to fight you, Nathan. I don’t want Claire’s brothers to get hurt by accident either, I just got them out of the way of the fight.” Sylar loosens his telekinetic grasp on Claire’ father, and lets him fall to the floor. He’s not expecting the older man to rush him, and he uses his telekinesis to throw him to the other end of the hallway. Nathan slams into the wall, and then crumbles to the ground, not moving.
Heidi runs to his side and kneels by her husband. She runs her hands over him, trying to find any injuries. Satisfied that the only thing hurt is his pride, she helps him to his feet. She grabs him by the elbow before he can rejoin the fight. “Nathan.” She starts to chide him, and he jerks away from him. “Oh no you don’t, Nathan.” She steps in front of him, and puts her hands on his shoulders, like she can hold him in place. “You’re through fighting.”
“Heidi, step out of my way. I’ve got to help Peter take care of Sylar before he destroys this house and kills us all.” Nathan tries to twist out of her hold, and she tightens her grasp.
“No, Nathan. He just tried to help us by getting our boys out of danger.” She sees that he’s not listening to her, and shakes him. “Are you blind? Take a good look over there,” and she turns him to look at the fight, “and tell me what you see.”
They watch for a few minutes. Peter throws a fireball at Sylar, but misses the man and sets the wall on fire instead. Using one hand to control his telekinesis to hold Peter in place for a minute, Sylar uses his other to quickly throw ice at the wall before the fire spreads. He has trouble controlling the fire, and has to let Peter go to focus on the ice. Peter sees his opponent’s distraction, and telekinetically yanks the hall mirror off the wall and flings it at Sylar. His aim holds true this time, and Peter manages to hit score a direct hit on Sylar’s chest. Nathan winces as he hears the man’s ribs cracking. “I see my brother fighting a fight I should be helping him with. Let me go, Heidi.”
“Then you don’t see what I see. How did Peter manage to hit him just then? Even I saw it coming, so that should have been an easy blow to duck away from.” Heidi asks, trying to lead her husband to the answer.
“You’re right, Peter telegraphed his every move. I’ve warned him about that. If Sylar had just ducked or turned to the right…” Nathan replays the scene in his mind, and sighs. “If he’d ducked, Peter would have hit Claire instead. She wasn’t paying any attention. Sylar knew it, and took the blow instead.”
“Exactly. I’ve been yelling at you two morons to stop for the last few minutes, and you wouldn’t listen. He could have attacked Peter, but instead he put out the fire before this entire house burns down around us. He’s purposely taking hits he could avoid to protect Claire. He loves Claire, and you two need to stop attacking him.”
“But Heidi, he started it all.” Nathan’s ashamed at how whiny he sounds.
“Bullshit, Nathan.” Nathan’s shocked at his wife’s language. “I saw you punch him - you started it. If you’re talking about using your powers to fight, Peter started it. Sylar has yet to make an offensive move; everything he’s done has been in defense. You have got to stop this fight.”
“Heidi, he’s going to hurt Claire. We’re doing this for her.” Nathan tries to explain.
“No, you’re going to end up hurting Claire. Peter’s going to hit her by accident, or you’re going to hurt her by demanding that she give up the man she loves.” Heidi puts her hands on Nathan’s shoulders again, and looks him in the eye. “I know she’s your little girl, but you’ve got to let her go. She’s going to marry him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. She’s grown up, Nathan, and you’re refusing to see it. Stop this fighting before you irrevocably ruin your relationship with your daughter.”
“She’s so young, and he’s evil!” Nathan can’t let his only daughter go easily.
“To tell you the truth, Peter looks more evil than Sylar does right now. Besides, she’s only a few months younger than I was when we got married.”
Nathan scoffs. “Yeah, but we only got married because you…” he starts to say, breaking off in silence when he sees the fury on his wife’s face.
“You had better not finish that sentence, mister. We only got married because we loved each other; there’s nothing on the face of the earth that could have made me marry you unless I loved you.” She cradles his face, and then kisses him softly and tenderly, a perfect replica of the kiss during their wedding. “I love you, Nathan. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how I look at you?”
“Of course, Heidi.” Nathan kisses her again, wondering why she’s bringing this up now.
“Then why can’t you see that your daughter looks at Sylar in the exact same way? They love each other, Nathan, so let them be happy. You know what, my father said the exact same things about you, and I told him I just didn’t care. We fought over you, albeit not like this, but I knew I was right. Stop this fight, Nathan, and give them your blessing before someone ends up getting hurt.”
- - - - - - - - - -
Sylar’s getting tired of fighting. He knew that Claire’s family wouldn’t take the news well, but he didn’t think they’d try to kill him. He ducks as Peter telekinetically throws something at him again. All the sconces are off the walls, and they’re using them as projectiles to toss at each other. He gets inspired when he looks up, and throws Peter back against the window and uses the curtains to hold him in place. “Peter, I’m telling you, stop this now. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I’m not playing this game with you for much longer.”
The smaller man bucks against his restraints, and Sylar wonders how long it’ll take him before he destroys the curtains. “Peter, I swear to you I’m not going to hurt Claire, or anyone else. Those days are over, I don’t need to kill to get powers any more.”
Angela steps up and stands besides Sylar. “Peter,” she begs her son, “just talk to the man. He’s telling the truth. I’ve seen it, Peter, I’ve known this entire time about Claire and Sylar. He really has changed. He’s going to be your best friend in the future, if you just give him a chance; you’re even going to name you son after him, Peter. Let’s just talk this out like civilized adults.”
He can’t believe that his mother is taking Sylar’s side. Peter thinks about his options, and knows that he can’t win against Sylar, Claire, and Angela. “Ok, I give, let’s talk.”
Sylar smiles at him, and Peter finds himself falling to the floor. Angela places her hand on Sylar’s shoulder, and leads him to the stairs. Nathan looks at him and shrugs, as if to say ‘we tried the best we could’. Peter wonders what Heidi had said to Nathan to make him finally give up the fight.
“Come on, boys, let’s go down to the living room.” Angela calls out to them. “Heidi, Claire, why don’t you check on the boys and then catch up with us. I think my boys and I need to have a little conversation.”
Nathan and Peter follow Angela and Sylar down the stairs, and Peter’s still furious. He’s realized that his mother was right, and he tries his best to calm. He’s on the verge of succeeding when he notices, for the first time that night, that Sylar’s wearing nothing but a robe and boxers. He starts fuming again as he thinks about why the man’s so under-dressed, and he starts to lose his tenuous control on his temper. He reminds himself that he’s got to give the man a chance, for his mother’s and niece’s sakes, even if he doesn’t want to. He focuses on his breathing, and tries to relax.
They get to the living room, and Nathan crosses his arms over his chest. “Ok, talk. Make it good.”
“I’ve got nothing left to say. I told you everything upstairs.” Sylar’s tired and just wants to be back in bed again. He wonders if they’re going to make him stay away from Claire, and he wishes that they’d had more time before Nathan and Peter had interrupted them.
Peter takes a ragged breath, and stumbles when he hears Sylar’s thoughts.
“Pete, you ok?” Nathan asks, worried that he’s exerted too much energy during the fight.
“Yeah, peachy keen.” Peter’s starting to get a headache, and it intensifies when Sylar can’t keep his damn mind off Claire. “Could you cut that out?”
“What?” Sylar tries to look innocent, but pushes another thought of Claire at him. He knows he shouldn’t torment Peter like this, but now that they’re not fighting, it’s almost fun. He thinks about what a wildcat she can be, and how demanding she is, and how he loves to make her scream.
Peter’s turning pale and has his eyes closed, trying his hardest to turn his telepathy off. The last straw is when he hears Sylar gloating about how he’d taken her virginity, and Peter loses his battle. Eyes still closed, he uses his telekinesis to hurl the fireplace poker at Sylar like a javelin.
He doesn’t sees his mother step in front of Sylar and use herself as a shield, and he only opens his eyes when he hears Nathan scream. It’s just like his nightmare from earlier that night, and he wants to scream, too.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sylar’s not expecting Angela to step in front of him and take a blow meant for him, and as she falls, he catches her in his arms. He exchanges horrified looks with Nathan. The fireplace poker had gone straight through her upper body, and emerged from her back. Sylar doesn’t know what to do, if he should remove the poker or not.
“Oh God.” Nathan begs. “Oh God, please no, please.”
“Nathan!” Sylar snaps at him. “Pull yourself together and help me before she bleeds to death.” He sees Peter taking a step towards him, and for the first time that night, puts his full power behind his attack. Peter’s unconscious and pinned to the wall before Sylar can blink, and he turns his focus back to Claire’s grandmother. “Help me, Nathan. We need to pull the poker out.”
Nathan blanches. “We can’t do that, we need to call 911. She’ll die before they can get here if we remove that thing.” He can barely look at his mother.
“I can heal her; we just need to get it out first.” Sylar’s never been so glad that he’s got Claire’s power and knows how to use it. “Hold her still, and on three, I’ll pull it out. One… two… three!” The poker flies across the room and embeds itself in the wall near Peter. Angela takes a ragged breath, and Nathan stares horrified at the how much blood she’s losing.
Sylar places one hand on her forehead and one hand on top of her wound, and focuses on sensing the damage. He loses himself as he does his best to heal every wound, fixing every blood vessel and torn muscle, but there’s so much work to do. The poker had come so close to her heart, and her left lung’s deflated - he’s worried about his ability to heal this much destruction.
“Nate…” she whispers.
“Shh, mother. Let him help you. Be still.” Nathan grasps her hand with his, surprised that she’s still able to talk.
“Love you all.” Her eyes close, and Sylar knows that she’s slipping away. He doubles his efforts, focusing on Claire and her abilities. Even though he’s doing the best he can, her heart stops beating. Nothing he does gets it going again, and he’s worried that he’s lost her already. “Nathan, focus, I need you to do CPR while I try to fix this.”
“I don’t know CPR.” Nathan confesses. “Can you talk me through it?”
“I can do it.” Sylar and Nathan turn to face Peter, unaware that he was conscious again. “Let me down. I’ll help you.”
“You’re the one that did this!” Nathan roars at his brother, but Sylar releases him anyhow.
Peter rushes to them, and falls to his knees. He starts chest compressions as Sylar continues his work. Sylar knows that they’ve been successful when he hears the tiny fluttering that indicates that her heart’s beating on it’s on again, and she takes a deep breath. Peter starts crying, and Sylar can’t blame the man.
“Thank you.” Sylar can barely hear Nathan’s soft whisper.
Sylar shakes his head, and shrugs. “I didn’t do anything special. It’s Claire’s power.”
“No, you did.” Peter agrees with Nathan. “It was my fault, and I wouldn’t have been able to heal her like you did. You could have let her die. Thank you.” He puts his hand on Sylar’s shoulder, and while it feels odd to him, he knows it’s a peace sign that the Petrellis are finally ready to accept him.
- - - - - - - - - -
Claire thinks that she’s walked into some sort of alternate reality when she and Heidi step into the living room. Sylar’s sitting on the couch. Angela’s lying down on the couch, with her head in Sylar’s lap. Nathan and Peter are perched on the arms of the chair, Peter sitting so close to Sylar that he’s almost hugging the man. The Christmas tree is lying on the ground, toppled over sideways, and there are ornaments and a fireplace poker embedded in the wall.
“What in the hell happened in here?” Heidi asks the same question that Claire’s thinking. Heidi walks over to the couch, and wraps her arms around Nathan.
The men and Angela had agreed that they wouldn’t tell Heidi, Claire, or the boys, so Nathan just smiles weakly at them. “We had a few… issues.”
Claire thinks her father should win the ‘understatement of the year’ award as she notices the giant bloodstain in the middle of the floor. Sylar slowly gets up, making sure to put a hand under Angela’s head and gently lowering it onto a pillow. He walks over to her, and pulls her into a deep kiss. She’s expecting her dad and Peter to throw another fit, but they don’t say anything - they just sit there and smile at her instead.
“Seriously,” she asks as she rests her forehead against his, “what happened?”
“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here, wearing my ring, under the mistletoe.” He kisses her again.
Heidi and Nathan watch as Claire tenderly holds her fiancé, and Heidi presses a kiss against her husband’s brow. “Remember when that was us?”
“Yeah. You were right.”
She giggles. “Of course I was right.” She looks over at the couple again, and hopes that Claire and Sylar will always love each other as much as she and Nathan do. She also hopes that she’ll be able to book St. Patrick’s cathedral for Valentine’s Day; she doesn’t think they’ll be able to wait much longer than that.
- - - - - - - - - -
They’ve stayed up all night, talking and laughing. Heidi and Nathan are sharing the love seat, and Peter’s sitting on the floor in front of them. Angela’s got one side of the couch, and Sylar and Claire are cuddling on the other end. They’d managed to get the room back to order, and they’re just waiting for the boys to come down for Christmas now.
The sun’s starting to rise when Peter looks at the clock. “Well, would you look at that? It’s after seven, and the boys still aren’t up.”
Sylar looks guilty. “I might have tucked them in too tightly. Someone might need to make sure that they’re not still tied to their beds.”
Claire laughs. “We took care of that while you were having your little discussion down here. Promise me that you’re not going to tie our kids to the bed.” She sees Sylar’s stricken look, and quickly clarifies her comment. “When we have kids many many many years from now.”
“Now, don’t be so hasty, Claire,” Nathan warns her, “You don’t know what kids can be like on Christmas night and Christmas morning. If I’d thought of it, I would have tied them up last night, so don’t knock his idea.” He sees the glare that his wife gives him, and throws his hands up in the air. “I was just joking, Heidi.” She lightly smacks his arm, but then softly kisses him. Peter makes gagging sounds, and Nathan whacks him in the head with one of the throw pillows.
“Boys, they never really grow up.” Angela comments wryly.
They jump when they hear a loud crash from upstairs, and the boys come thundering down the stairs like a pack of wild elephants. They come running into the room, and throw themselves at the gifts under the tree. Less than five minutes later, and the room looks like they’ve been hit with flurries of wrapping paper and the boys are playing with countless toys.
“Claire?” Angela asks. “I think I see another present. It’s way in the back. How about you grab that, please?”
Claire reaches behind the tree, and finds a small package almost hidden under the tree skirt. She looks at her grandmother, confused, when she sees that it’s addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Gray.
Angela smiles at her. “Well, go on, open it.”
Claire makes her way back over to Sylar’s side, and they open it together. It’s another small jewelry box. They exchange baffled glances, and Sylar flips the lid open. Inside are two matching wedding bands, and Claire’s surprised to find that they match her engagement ring.
“The rings belonged to my parents. I wasn’t sure I was going to able to give them to you today,” Angela confesses and then glances over at Sylar, “seeing how he’s been carrying my mother’s engagement ring around since April. I’d just about given up on him ever giving it to you.”
She laughs as she sees the bewildered looks on everyone’s faces. “Did you honestly think this all happened by accident? Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me - just be sure to name one of my great-grandbabies after me.”
They did, but that’s another story…