Letters to My Niece (10/13)
Title: Letters to My Niece (10/13)
Author: lit_chick08
Rating: NC-17 overall; PG-13 for this chapter because of language
Pairing: Paire, Claire/West, Peter/Elle, Claire/Adam Monroe
Word Count: 7493
Spoilers: Everything shown thus far, including Season 2. I’m picking and choosing what I like, so you could be potentially spoiled if you haven’t seen the latest episodes
Summary: Peter and Claire try to come to terms with how they feel about each other while the world threatens to end around them
A/N: This is a sequel to “Letters to My Uncle,” which can be found HERE. You might be confused if you try to read this one without reading the first one.
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Dear Claire,
The fondest memory I have of my family is the Christmas that I was eleven. Ironically, it is the only Christmas that I have ever spent away from Nathan. He was stationed in Germany that year and couldn’t catch a flight back due to the weather. I had been heartbroken; Nathan had always been my hero and the only thing I had looked forward to since he had been transferred from Texas was that visit.
That year, my father had his first “cardiac incident,” which I thought had been a minor heart attack but I would later find out was his first suicide attempt. He had taken some time off of work - which, if you knew my father, was the most shocking thing of all - and spent most of his time locked up in his den, doing God knows what. Ma was busy organizing charity benefits and the annual Christmas party, and I was spending most of my Christmas vacation with my Guatemalan nanny.
On the day before Christmas Eve, before the sun had even risen, my father came into my room and woke me up. He told me to get dressed and to meet him downstairs in fifteen minutes. I have never gotten dressed quicker in my life and, when I got downstairs, Pop was waiting in his huge overcoat, holding my coat.
He took me to Hell’s Kitchen, to a tiny apartment over a restaurant that had almost no light and smelled of onions and peppers. There were mousetraps in the corners, linoleum rolling up off of the kitchen floor, and only one, small bedroom. The bathroom was across the hall and intended to be shared with the other, equally microscopic apartment on the floor.
This, he told me, was the place where he had grown up, the apartment that his parents had rented after coming to New York from Italy; he had shared one, double bed with his parents and his older brother until he was ten, when he and his brother were moved to the living room. It was so far from the lap of luxury that Nathan and I grew up in that I was shocked. He told me that he had worked hard in school so that he could go to college, that he had worked full-time at a meat packing factory to go to law school at night, and that it’s important to understand the value of hard work.
When I asked him later if he had ever brought Nathan there, he told me no, that he didn’t think that Nathan would appreciate it the way that I could. It was the only time that my father had ever done anything with me that Nathan hadn’t done first.
After we left the apartment, he bought me lunch at a hot dog vendor, something that Ma would never have allowed. It was the one and only time that I had ever seen my father as the man he must’ve been before he became Arthur Petrelli, Attorney-at-Law, before he had changed his from Arturo and started to become a major player in society.
That day gave me hope that maybe my father wouldn't always be an insufferable bastard.
Peter
* * *
The beginning of the end began with a visitor.
Claire, who had been helping Molly with her algebra homework, had barely registered the sound of the doorbell. Micah, in the middle of finishing up a book report, had been the one to answer the door and then, a moment later, call, “Claire, it’s for you!”
Confused, she had gotten to her feet and headed to the foyer only to be stunned at the sight of West, covered in a light dusting of the snow that had been falling steadily since the night before, clutching a handful of papers.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out in shock, grateful that she, Molly, and Micah were the only ones home.
Running a hand through his long, shaggy hair, he replied, “Look, we don’t have much time. We’ve gotta go.”
“What? West, what’s going on?”
With a sigh, he asked, “Is your dad here?” When Claire shook her head, West breathed in relief. The last thing he wanted to do was have to face an angry Noah Bennet.
“I know that this isn’t going to mean anything and you’re not going to want to trust me, but you have to.”
“West, what - “
“My name isn’t West Rosen; it’s West Bishop. Bob Bishop is my father. The Rosens work for the Company; they were supposed to give me a cover. I’m also not nineteen; I’m twenty-three.” Seeing the stunned expression on Claire’s face, he rushed on, “The Company wanted to keep an eye on you after Kirby Plaza and they picked me to do it. I didn’t want to but it’s what I was raised to do. But you have to believe that I care about you, I really do, and - “
“Shut up,” she ordered, ice filling her chest, disbelief swirling around her. It wasn’t as if he was the first man in her life to lie to her; she had more than her fair share of those. But he was the one person that she had thought to be completely guileless, and the sting of it hurt.
She thought of how many days she had spent at the Rosen home, at the barbecues where she had helped Doctor Rosen man the grill and the shopping trip she had taken with Mrs. Rosen to find West a perfect birthday present. They had treated her like a daughter and the entire time they had just been biding time to get her to Bob. The whole concept of it made her nauseous, and to think that West had come from the same psycho who had hacked into her like she was a side of beef…
“I’m sorry,” West said, sounding as if this confession was genuinely bothering him, “but Elle’s gone off the reservation and I think she’s going to come after you. You’ve got to get out of here.”
“And let me guess, I should hide out with the Company because you can protect me?” she spat.
He shook his head. “No, you need to stay away from them too. I got the Haitian to get you a ticket to Port au Prince; he has family there that will keep you hidden for now. Until this whole mess gets figured out - “
“I’m not going anywhere,” Claire interrupted, “but I think you need to get the hell out of here.”
“Claire, you don’t understand! Elle’s unstable on her best day, and right now she thinks you’re responsible for Peter Petrelli not loving her! She hacked into my dad’s system to get information on the Board, on blood lines, on everything, including all of the information on Sylar! If she goes to him, if she uses what she knows - “
“What does she know?”
West froze, uncertain whether he should reveal what he had found. Despite his affection for Claire, he had been bred to be loyal to the Company first and foremost. If he showed all his cards, there was no way he was ever going to be able to go home.
“Tell me or I’m calling my father.”
Decision made for him, West confessed, “I’m pretty sure that Peter Petrelli isn’t actually a Petrelli; I think it’s way more twisted than that.”
Claire started. “Why would you say that?”
“I found this file on my dad’s computer that breaks down the Board and their families. Peter’s file was in Victoria Pratt’s file…along with Sylar’s.”
Claire’s mind began to race a mile a minute. If what West was saying was true - and she sincerely doubted that it was given his history of lying through his teeth - then she needed to speak to Victoria Pratt immediately. Of course, given that all she knew about Victoria Pratt was that she had gone into hiding in order to avoid being killed by Adam and Arthur, that was going to make the job significantly harder. However, this needed to be done and she knew what she was going to have to do.
Grabbing her coat off of the peg beside the door, she grabbed the papers in West’s hand to reveal a passport that identified her as Eleanor Raines, a plane ticket to Port au Prince, and an envelope of money. Stuffing all of it into her pocket, she stepped to him, causing him to take a step back despite the significant differences in height.
“I am going to go take care of this. You are going to stay here with Molly and Micah until everyone gets home, and then you’re going to tell them what happened with Elle; do not say anything about Peter. If you do something to Molly or Micah, if you even look at them the wrong way, I will kill you. Do you believe me?”
West slowly nodded, believing her words to the very depths of her soul.
With a nod, Claire rushed out the door, leaving West to wonder if he had ever really known who Claire Bennet was.
* * *
To say that Arthur Petrelli was surprised to see his only granddaughter come bursting through the door of the hotel room he was hiding out in was an understatement; after seeing the look on her face after Adam had told her everything, he had expected her to go straight to his sons, tell them everything, and refuse to ever go near him again.
Arthur was beginning to think that he had severely underestimated his granddaughter.
“Claire - “
“I need to know where Victoria Pratt is,” she cut in with no greeting. “I know you said that you can’t find her, but I think you can if you really try.”
Rising off of the bed, Arthur acknowledged, “If I push hard enough, I might - “
“Then do it.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow as he smirked. Oh, yes, he had definitely underestimated his granddaughter; most grown men wouldn’t dare to speak to him the way that she was and she was doing it without a drop of fear within her. The last time anyone had directly challenged him like this, it had been Charles, but that had been a lifetime ago.
“Why do you need to know where Victoria is? She’s not a threat to anyone; she’s far too peace, love, and happiness to be.”
“That’s none of your business.”
Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “You come busting in here asking for a favor and it’s none of my business? I think that if you want my help - “
“And I think that if you want me to keep your little Board assassination scheme, not to mention you being alive quiet, you’ll do it and not ask questions.”
He blinked in shock at the blatant blackmail threat as well as the look in Claire’s eyes. If there was one emotion that Arthur Petrelli was familiar with, it was desperation; whether in the courtroom or at Primatech, he had seen the spectrum of anxiety and he knew what extreme lengths people would go to in order to insure that their world remained exactly how they wanted. Between the Petrelli DNA in her and having been raised by Noah Bennet, Arthur did not doubt that Claire would go as far as she needed to in order to keep her loved ones safe; he wasn’t so sure that she knew the cost to your soul to do so.
“If you need,” he began, softening his tone.
“I need you to find Victoria Pratt and I need you to do it quickly.” Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she gently added, “Please.”
Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath before focusing all of his energy in locating Victoria. He had attempted to find her in the beginning of his and Adam’s quest for the Board members but, upon the realization that she was hiding from the Company as well as Adam’s assurance that she was hardly dangerous, he had quit. After all, he had no ill will towards Victoria; she had always been a good friend to Angela and, when she had left the Company following Adam’s imprisonment, she hadn’t done anything to interfere with business. Victoria had simply drifted into nothingness, starting a life in cancer research and marrying some nameless man who had lived an un-extraordinary life.
As Claire paced the length of the room, Arthur pushed through the mental barriers that Victoria had erected, struggled to the point that he was certain that he would need a tranquilizer to deal with the pain in his head, but, after his nose began to bleed and he was drenched in sweat, he had an address for his granddaughter.
Writing it out for her, he handed it to her and said, “Be safe, Claire.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “No such thing anymore.”
* * *
Sylar was not sure what to make of Elle Raines. He certainly wanted her power; he had never had electrical power and it would definitely be an asset to his repertoire. But the offer she was proposing was so much more enticing and Sylar was nothing if not a practical man.
If he listened to Elle, he could not only have Claire Bennet’s power but also finally kill Peter Petrelli. Life didn’t get much better than that.
The woman in question was currently seated across from him at some dimly lit bistro, his line of vision partially obscured by the centerpiece, and he couldn’t help but think that this was, perhaps, the strangest first date he had ever had. Not that he had many in his prior life…Gabriel had never had the confidence for that.
He could appreciate the beauty of her; she had certainly drawn the appreciative glances of the men around them, but Sylar had long ago sworn off distractions and he had the feeling that Elle Raines was the worst kind of distraction.
“If you want Claire Bennet,” she began after ordering a glass of the most expensive champagne on the list, sipping it as if it was the first alcohol she’d ever ingested, “you have to get rid of the Merry Men.”
“Merry men?” he echoed.
“She’s heavily protected by the others. If you want to get to her, you’re going to have to be able to match her protectors power for power. Now, don’t get me wrong: you have some pretty sweet tricks in that bag, but you’re going to need more.” Noticing his quirked eyebrow and sinister expression, she snapped, “Not mine, jackass!”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“You can’t go directly for Peter again or you’re going to get another Kirby Plaza. Now, Noah won’t be a problem; he’s just a human, the same as Suresh. And really Parkman isn’t that much of a threat; telepathy’s nice and all but it isn’t exactly a defensive power, y’know? The real threats are Niki, Monica, and Nathan.”
“Who would you suggest going directly after?”
“Monica can mimic anything she sees but she’s weak; it’s the whole reason that the Company let her return to New Orleans. If push comes to shove, she’ll be easy to topple and that power will come in handy. Niki’s strong - “
“I remember.”
“Yeah, well, now that her personalities are integrated, she’s fairly stable. That’s why we’re going to have to bring out the crazy.” Leaning forward, her blonde hair shining in the candlelight, “I’ve been replacing her psych meds with placebos for months now to see what happens; if we can get Jessica to come out, we can get her on our side. She’s already starting to crack so it shouldn’t be that much of a challenge.”
“And Nathan? What does he do?”
“He flies. Now, you can’t exactly chase him into the sky so we’re going to need to make you fly.”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Why, by getting you the same power.” Reaching into her tiny purse, she removed a snapshot, which she slid over to him.
Sylar took the picture that featured Claire and a tall boy with dark hair grinning like an idiot.
“His name is West; he’ll get you where you need to go.”
* * *
The phone call that summoned Peter home from work came from Noah, of all people. He had barely gotten the phone to his ear before the former Company man had commanded, “Get home right away.”
It had taken him almost forty-five minutes to find another nurse to take over the care of poor Mrs. Alderman and, when he had teleported home, he had found West Rosen tied to a chair in the living room, the rest of the group assembled, and everyone looking like they were ready to strangle someone.
“What’s going on?”
“Claire left our kids with a Company spy, that’s what!” Niki spat, anxiously pacing the length of the room.
“Mom, calm down,” Micah said sounding bored from his perch on the couch beside Molly.
“Where’s Claire?”
“That would be the question,” Matt stated. “Once he showed up, she took off with a plane ticket, $2000 in cash, and a brand new passport.”
Peter turned to face West, who looked more than a little weary at the sight of Claire’s overprotective uncle. “And why would she have done that?”
“Because West here is Bob Bishop’s son and was sent to Costa Verde specifically to get close to Claire,” Nathan informed him, his face tight as if he was fighting the urge to bludgeon the boy. “His whole job was to make sure that Claire stayed as far away from all of us as possible.”
Peter couldn’t help the rage that began to fill him. He knew from talking to Claire about how close she had gotten to West, how she had wished she could’ve done better by him, and how guilty she had felt leaving him in Kentucky and taking off with Adam when he had been so good to her. To know that it was all a lie, that he had taken advantage of Claire, that he had taken his Claire’s virginity, made him see red.
“You son of a bitch!”
Noah managed to stop Peter before he tackled the chair that West was tied to. “Calm down, Peter! I know how you feel, but if he’s unconscious, he’s of no use to us. Besides, we have bigger problems.”
“Like what?”
Monica, who had thus far been quiet, spoke up, “Like Elle going off to find Sylar to get a little vengeance.”
“What?” he gasped.
“Apparently Elle feels…slighted by you,” Mohinder said as tactfully as possible, “and she feels that Claire is the cause of that. Which, of course, begs the question of why she would feel that way.”
Peter felt his stomach roll, bile stinging his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it back. He couldn’t believe that it had come to this, that his selfishness had brought this down; everyone was in danger, Claire especially, because he couldn’t keep his pants zipped.
If ever there was proof he was a Petrelli…
“I’m sorry,” was all he could manage. “I thought…I didn’t think she’d…She’s not always so terrible,” he lamely finished.
From his place on the chair, West scoffed. “Yeah, for a fucking psycho. Do you even know how she got to be with the Company? Her own dad knew that she was damaged goods; he hoped they’d keep her locked up forever the same way they did Adam.”
“How about instead of debating Elle’s good and bad points we figure out what the hell we’re going to do?” Niki snapped. “She’s with Sylar, we have no idea where Claire is or whose side she’s on - “
“Now wait a minute!” Peter objected. “You can’t honestly think that Claire’s, what, working for the Company? Working for Sylar?”
“How about working with Adam?” Matt suggested. “I got a call today from Ando, Kaito Nakamura’s personal assistant. Hiro Nakamura reappeared in Japan yesterday and wants to help out. He asked me to email him what information we had so they could catch up before they come here; when I sent him the picture of Adam, Hiro freaked out. He said that he knew Adam when his powers first showed up and he called himself Takezo Kensei back then; the story kind of got lost in translation but the end result was that Adam is a bad guy who vowed to wreak vengeance on every member of Hiro’s family.”
“And you think that Adam killed Kaito?”
“I think that it would explain why we always got there too late to save any of the Board members and why your mom’s so scared of him. I mean, if he wants to know what we’re doing, he has to stay close to us and that means he can’t go after Angela. And he and Claire are close.”
Peter looked around the room at the others, who all seemed to be avoiding his gaze. His eyes landing on Noah, he inquired, “Even you? You think that Claire’s capable of some conspiracy to kill the Board?”
With a sigh, Noah admitted, “I know less about my daughter than I ever thought was possible. Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”
“Pete,” Nathan began, “she just took off and won’t let us find her; it’s the same trick that Adam does. And Ma warned me that this could happen, that she’d get wrapped up in the power.”
“But that’s not Claire!” Peter insisted.
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Monica spoke up, “but I don’t think y’all understand what that run-in with Bob did to her. She got very…dark after it. Now I love Claire like a sister but…if she isn’t helping Adam do it, she isn’t stopping him either.”
Peter could only stand there and let the words sink in, wishing with everything that he had that there wasn’t a kernel of truth to Monica’s proclamation.
* * *
It wasn’t easy to find the cabin that Victoria Pratt had decided to spend the rest of her days in, but Claire had persevered. She had spent the majority of the day trying to get the remote location in Washington State, using West’s bundle of cash to get a plane ticket to Seattle followed by a bus ticket to the middle of nowhere and finally hitchhiking with an elderly woman to the driveway of “Anne Smith,” the local recluse.
After hiking up the long, dirt driveway, Claire finally caught sight of the cabin, a small one-storied affair that was surrounded by pristine snow. A large SUV was parked next to the wraparound porch, though it had obviously not been used lately as the snow surrounding the tires was so deep that it nearly covered the wheels. Shivering as another cold wind blew, Claire climbed the steps to the porch and lightly wrapped upon the heavy door. After several moments, she knocked again, louder this time; within the next few moments, she was all but putting her fist through the door in an attempt to get the remaining Board member to open the door.
The sudden sound of a shotgun cocking made Claire spin around quickly, nearly wiping out on a patch of ice; an older woman with red hair stood before her, the double barrel of the shotgun trained on a startled Claire.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
Raising her hands to show that she was unarmed, Claire answered, “My name’s Claire and I’m looking for Victoria Pratt.”
The sound of the shotgun firing was louder than Claire would’ve thought; that was the last thought she had before the slug tore through her chest, shredding her heart with a single shot. As she hit the porch, bleeding profusely, Claire could already feel the excruciating pain of her heart mending itself. When the woman moved to stand over her, Claire stared up into her blue eyes and gasped, “Why the fuck did you do that?!”
She stumbled backwards in surprise before gasping, “Who are you?!”
Still lying on the porch, she winced as her breast bone reformed. “I’m Claire Bennet; Angela Petrelli is my grandmother.”
“So it is true; you’re a regenerator.”
Slowly pushing herself into a sitting position, she asked, “Are you Victoria?”
Extending her hand to help her up, she nodded. “I’m sorry for shooting you, but everyone who knew me as Victoria Pratt is either dead or trying to make sure that I end up that way. I thought you were with the Company.”
Claire brushed the snow and rock salt from her clothing while trying to piece together the front of her jacket to help preserve her modesty. “You could’ve just asked!”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “but hesitation with the Company gets you killed and not all of us have that handy power.” With a sigh, she gestured for Claire to follow her inside of the cabin.
It was sparse inside, utilitarian furniture with almost no decoration. There were plants everywhere, lush and green despite the temperature, and Claire inhaled the heavy scent of flowers. She watched as Victoria moved into the other room, returning with a sweatshirt, which she handed to Claire to wear. Claire accepted it, slipping it over her destroyed shirt, and then watched as Victoria began to make a pot of tea.
“I assume that Angela told you where I was.”
Claire didn’t correct the assumption.
“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone when I contacted her after John’s death so this must be quite the emergency. I don’t imagine that you came 3,000 miles for tea.”
“How much do you know about what’s going on?”
“You mean the original Board being killed off? I’m not living under an assumed name in No Man’s Land because I’m feeling quirky. After Kaito, I knew that it wasn’t coincidence; after my husband died in a crash in the car I always drove, I knew what was happening for certain. Angela confirmed it; she told me to disappear.”
“It’s so much bigger than that. I mean, the whole murdering thing is big but it’s the murders, it’s Shanti, it’s Sylar - “
“It sounds like you’re about to ask me something important,” Victoria declared, handing her a steaming cup and settling into an easy chair.
“Angela won’t tell us anything about before, about what happened. Adam got out of captivity and he won’t either, but he’s the one killing people. The Company began strategically releasing Shanti and there’s someone like us named Sylar who kills people, cuts open their heads, and steals their powers. Oh, and I think that Peter Petrelli isn’t actually a Petrelli because his file was in yours.” At her stunned silence, she added, “You can start wherever.”
Victoria chuckled after a stunned moment. “You know, Angela told me about you. Nathan was maybe three and she told me that she was going to be a grandmother. I laughed, of course, but she told me the vision she had about a beautiful, blonde girl named Claire that would one day be Nathan’s daughter and her granddaughter. She was so happy that day; the mere idea of you gave her such joy. Are you this big of a pain in the ass with her?”
Claire smirked. “Worse.”
“Well, if you want to hear everything, it’s going to take awhile.”
Thinking of Adam, Claire assured her, “No else in the world has as much time as I do.”
* * *
Dear Claire,
I want to believe that you’d never betray us, that you’d never betray me.
I can’t even begin to understand what would make you keep Adam’s secrets but if you are, if you haven’t been tricked and if you’re the villain in a cheerleader’s uniform…
How am I supposed to save the world from you?
Peter
* * *
“I’ve known your grandmother since we were children,” Victoria began as she stirred milk into her tea. “We both suffered through an Upper East Side upbringing, though clearly Angela took to it more than I. While I went off to college and peace rallies, Angela met Arthur. Her parents went nuts, of course; an immigrant’s son, a factory worker, someone of no importance daring to marry their daughter almost caused an international incident. They cut her off completely when she became a Petrelli; I was the only person on her side of the church on the big day.”
Claire blinked in surprise. She never would’ve guessed that Angela’s past had something like that in it; the silver spoon was lodged so firmly into her mouth that Claire could hardly picture her living the life of a pauper for love.
“We went different ways; I finished my PhD, ended up in Haight-Ashbury indulging in far more psychedelic endeavors, and Angela worked as a shop girl while Arthur went to law school. When he graduated, he started his firm above the same shop where Angela worked; we lost touch for awhile but she found me again when Nathan was born. I’d never seen her so happy before; all of the struggle seemed to pay off for her when he came. That was before Arthur left for Vietnam; she was lost while he was gone. I moved in for awhile to try to help. Summer of 69, I was at Woodstock when I met Adam Monroe; he had seen me make flowers grow while I danced.”
“That’s your power?” Claire interrupted.
“I can make any plant grow anyplace I choose no matter what the climate or location.” Gesturing to the flowers that surrounded the house, she confessed, “They’re about the only things that don’t die around me.”
Claire didn’t say anything but she could understand the concept; she often feared that she had the same effect on people.
“Anyway, I introduced him to Charles Deveaux, whom I had met at a civil rights rally. Charles could bring people into memories but he was hardly concerned with that. Adam told us these grand plans he had for people like us, people who could change the world. It was all that Charles and I wanted then; we were so idealistic. We didn’t realize then how…how twisted everything would become.” Looking away from Claire into nothingness, she admitted, “I was the one who brought Angela and Arthur into all of this. I had always known that Angela could dream the future; she had done it since we were little and it had been a game then. I had no idea that Arthur had a power; I thought that it was just too coincidental. Once they were on board, Arthur brought in Daniel, who had saved his life when they were in Vietnam, and he was the one that brought in Kaito and Maury and eventually Bob. The others came later but none of them stayed long; it’s a hard business.”
“I’m learning that.”
“We needed money to start Primatech; none of us were starving but none of us were millionaires then either. Kaito had barely started his company then, Arthur was just starting out, Charles was a public defender, and Daniel was actually unemployed then. It was Daniel who had the idea of how to utilize my power to start the company; he said that performing a criminal act for a greater purpose was still a good deed. I was stupid enough to believe him so I did what he asked.”
“Which was?”
She sneered. “Drugs. Marijuana, cocaine, heroin, mushrooms, I made them all grow on land that Daniel purchased. It was a ‘growth market,’ he said. Next thing I knew, we were rolling in it but it got so much bigger than that; Daniel used the drugs to get into weapons, the weapons to get into the mob, and then he took over. I made Daniel Linderman the king of the gangsters; I’m the reason for all of this.” Victoria wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I was put in charge of research, specifically research to protect civilians from people like us who used their power for evil. It was Arthur’s idea to have an…an anti-virus that would neutralize threats. I had no idea where to even begin until Shanti Suresh died in the early 70s; the disease she died from was unknown and I still don’t know how Kaito got a sample of her blood but I used it to synthesize the first testable strain of Shanti.”
“Wait, first strain?” Claire cut in. “There are different strains?”
Victoria nodded. “11 to be precise, all designed for different purposes. Some were failed experiments but two major strains came into use: one that would simply block the reaction in the brain that causes a power and one that kills. I created cures for both in case they randomly appeared like they did with the Suresh girl, but it was around that time that I realized that the Company didn’t want cures. Somehow our mission changed; it became less about helping people and more about helping ourselves. Maury became psychotic with his power, using it at will or to terrorize; Daniel, Kaito, and Arthur were all hungry for power in any way they could get it. And Bob, he was so resentful of Arthur and the way he had assumed unofficial leadership that he could hardly come to meetings anymore. When the vote came to imprison Adam, I knew I couldn’t stay anymore. Angela begged me to stay, begged me to understand the threat that Adam was, but I couldn’t. I believed in Adam Monroe; for all of his faults, he was the one person in this world that could see it for what it really was.”
“So what did you do?”
“I left New York. I spent the next 5 years traveling, starting and stopping lives all over; as much as I hated what the Company had become, I missed my friends and the rush of what we did. I can’t explain it. The feeling you get when you’re right in the middle of the action, the way that everything is life or death can be so…”
“Freeing,” Claire completed.
Victoria smiled softly. “Exactly. I had stopped in New York on a layover to Los Angeles when my flight was delayed. I decided to spend the night in the city, maybe see Angela and Nathan, when I met this man who was trying to buy a gift for his wife. He was looking at the world’s ugliest snow globes when I bumped into him. His name was Gabe; I never knew his last name. I was so stupid to sleep with him, not only because he was married but because AIDS had just made its appearance. But I did and that was that. I never heard from him again and I didn’t want to. It wasn’t until almost 3 months later that I realized that I was pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Claire echoed.
She nodded. “It was too late to have an abortion, so I went to LA and started another new life. I was 8 months along when Angela showed up on my doorstep. I hadn’t seen her in New York; I hadn’t seen her in years. She had changed so much and was so much colder than she had been when we were younger. When I invited her in, I realized that she was pregnant too. She made small talk for awhile before I finally asked her what she was doing there and she told me that it was Company business.”
“Did she take your baby?!”
Victoria finally returned her gaze upon Claire, shaking her head sadly. “She asked me if I remembered her future granddaughter, the girl named Claire, and I said yes. Angela said that she - well, you - would be a regenerator like Adam, which meant that the Company would want you for the get-go. I offered her some stupid platitude but then she said that the reason she was telling me this was because of the son that I was carrying. He would be incredibly important and powerful; he’d have a power that none of us had seen before and he was going to change the way the Company did business.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “I was so flattered that my son would do that. Angela then said that he was going to marry her granddaughter one day, that they’d fall in love, have children, and they’d destroy the Company that we built to start something better. But, see, she wasn’t happy about that because it meant that you would die. You and my son would die because the Company would never leave you along; as long as there were villains, they’d come after you and your family. Angela said that he would die before his 30th birthday if we didn’t do something.”
Claire suddenly had the urge to vomit, terrified of what she knew was coming.
“You see, we had to do something to make sure that you would never fall in love with each other because if we could do that both of you would be safe. Angela already had a plan. She knew what was going to happen and she had planned ahead; she wasn’t actually pregnant, just wearing padding. She and Arthur were on the rocks and it was easy enough to fake; she already knew when I’d go into labor and had set everything up to make it look like she would suddenly go into labor while in California. I just had to agree to…give him to her.”
It wasn’t until she felt the wetness on her face that Claire realized she was crying for Victoria. “You gave her Peter?”
“I would rather never see my son than know that raising him would lead to his death. I knew that he’d be safe with Angela; she swore that she’d love him like he was her own, that he would be a Petrelli, and what kind of life could I have offered him anyway? I could hardly take care of myself back then. Besides, it would save both of you. That was all we cared about; keeping you and Peter safe was always our goal.”
“Angela doesn’t care about that! She hates me! She set Peter up to destroy New York for the stupid Company! She lied to you and - “
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victoria cut in tersely. “I made sure that Charles kept an eye on Peter; he knew what the plan was and he was the one who told her to count on Peter because he could survive it. Peter was always going to explode; Angela just made sure that Nathan would be there to help fix everything. And if you think that Angela hates you, you don’t your grandmother at all! She kept track of you your entire life; the last time I spoke to her, she was so proud of you.”
“Proud of me?”
Getting to her feet, Victoria crossed to the fireplace, picking up a box resting on the mantle. “She said that you were so much stronger than she is, that you would do good in this world. Angela’s not a monster, Claire; she’s just been around them for so long that she doesn’t remember how to act around people who aren’t ones.”
Claire accepted the box and slid open the lid. There were photographs of Peter through the years, from infancy to present, a clipping of his graduation announcement, the same photo of Nathan and Peter that both brothers kept, and there, at the bottom, was Claire’s senior portrait. Flipping it over, in Angela’s elegant scrawl, were the words that would make Claire’s heart ache: My Claire, 18. It’s so sad, Tori; they would’ve been perfect together.
* * *
“Flying Man!” Hiro Nakamura cried as he and Ando teleported into the Petrelli brownstone, startling everyone, especially Nathan who now had his arms full of Japanese male.
“Hello again, Hiro,” Nathan politely replied, extracting himself from the embrace. “Everyone, this is Hiro Nakamura.”
Glancing around the assembly, the man grinned. “Heroes! We are going to save the world!”
Niki, who was leaning against the doorway, muttered, “What are we going to do, beat them with enthusiasm?”
Unlike the others, Peter couldn’t help but smile at Hiro’s attitude. “We’re glad you’re here, man.”
Slightly more subdued, he stated in English that had vastly improved from his last time in New York, “It is important that we stop Kensei. He is a bad man.”
“We can all agree on that,” Noah assured him.
Ando, who was holding a long, black portfolio, set it on the floor and asked, “Where do you want these?”
“What are they?” Mohinder inquired.
“I went through a warehouse where my father kept his important belongings hoping he would have left us something to fight the bad men. In the back, I found some paintings by Mr. Isaac. I think that they could be very important.”
“The missing paintings…The Haitian and I thought that they were in Ukraine.”
Hiro shrugged.
Matt, who was nearest to Ando, helped him to set it onto the coffee table and unzipped the case, removing the eight, numbered canvasses. The first canvas depicted Claire’s meeting with Adam; the second featured Sylar shooting Mohinder; the third was Claire’s capture and torture; the fourth was of Elle and Sylar’s meeting. When it was quickly determined that the first four canvases were of no use now, Matt quickly arrived at the last four.
In the fifth canvas, Claire was seated in a strange living room with a redheaded woman. There were no identifying details as to the location and both of the women were looking at the opening door with shock and fear on their faces.
“Who is that?” Molly asked, pointing to the redhead.
“Her name’s Victoria Pratt,” Angela spoke up, surprising those who thought that she was still upstairs. “She was on the Board.”
“Why would Claire go to see her?”
“To open Pandora’s Box. Victoria had nothing left to lose; Claire could rope her into almost anything.”
“You said that Victoria was dead,” Mohinder stated.
Unfazed, she retorted, “I lied.”
Moving on to the sixth canvas, it appeared to be nothing more than a cityscape of New York without even so much as a subject. Frustrated, they moved onto the seventh, which caused all of the Petrellis to gasp.
There was Claire, broken and listless, being carried in the arms of Arthur Petrelli.
“Pop,” Nathan murmured in disbelief.
Noah glared at Angela. “You lie about him too?”
The Petrelli matriarch looked as if someone had punched her in the gut. “They couldn’t have…They wouldn’t have…Daniel wouldn’t have…”
“Pop’s alive,” Peter said, testing to see how it sounded out loud.
Nathan reached past Matt to get to the eighth portrait in hopes that it would provide an answer. Instead, it prompted even more questions. They were in Kirby Plaza once again, Sylar and Elle standing together, Bob and several Company employees huddled together, Peter and the others completing the circle, a circle in which Claire and Adam were in the center, both bloodied, clinging to each other. Adam held a gun in his right hand; Claire clutched what looked like a vial in her left.
“We need to find Claire,” Monica declared, stating what everyone was thinking.
If Claire was holding what Monica thought she was holding, her new best friend was going to release the Shanti virus.
* * *
“You really think that you can destroy the Company?” Victoria queried, what sounded almost like amusement playing in her voice.
Claire shrugged. “It’s my destiny, right? Besides, as long as they’re around, we’ll never really be free. And they’ll keep making more people like Elle and letting people like Sylar live.”
Victoria looked at the passport and plane ticket that Claire had given her. “What will I do in Haiti?”
She smiled. “Start over for real. Maybe Eleanor Raines will have a really easy life.”
The older woman laughed. “Oh, it wouldn’t be difficult.” Her expression softening, Victoria queried, “What’s he like?”
Claire paused for a long moment, unsure how to adequately describe Peter. There were so many words that could apply - caring, charming, infuriating, brave, ridiculous - but none of them fully encapsulated what he meant to her. Finally, knowing that there would be no judgment, she said the only thing she could possibly say that would sum it all up.
“He’s my hero.”
Before Victoria could reply, there was the distinctive sound of the lock rattling followed by the door swinging open. Both on their feet, Claire was attempting to locate an exit when Victoria visibly relaxed despite the fact that Claire couldn’t see why.
“What’s going on?” Claire demanded in a panic.
“Relax,” a new, accented voice ordered. “I’m here to help you, darling. Your grandfather sent me.”
And right before her eyes Claire saw the bodyguard her grandfather had sent her.
“Uncle Claude?”
Author: lit_chick08
Rating: NC-17 overall; PG-13 for this chapter because of language
Pairing: Paire, Claire/West, Peter/Elle, Claire/Adam Monroe
Word Count: 7493
Spoilers: Everything shown thus far, including Season 2. I’m picking and choosing what I like, so you could be potentially spoiled if you haven’t seen the latest episodes
Summary: Peter and Claire try to come to terms with how they feel about each other while the world threatens to end around them
A/N: This is a sequel to “Letters to My Uncle,” which can be found HERE. You might be confused if you try to read this one without reading the first one.
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Dear Claire,
The fondest memory I have of my family is the Christmas that I was eleven. Ironically, it is the only Christmas that I have ever spent away from Nathan. He was stationed in Germany that year and couldn’t catch a flight back due to the weather. I had been heartbroken; Nathan had always been my hero and the only thing I had looked forward to since he had been transferred from Texas was that visit.
That year, my father had his first “cardiac incident,” which I thought had been a minor heart attack but I would later find out was his first suicide attempt. He had taken some time off of work - which, if you knew my father, was the most shocking thing of all - and spent most of his time locked up in his den, doing God knows what. Ma was busy organizing charity benefits and the annual Christmas party, and I was spending most of my Christmas vacation with my Guatemalan nanny.
On the day before Christmas Eve, before the sun had even risen, my father came into my room and woke me up. He told me to get dressed and to meet him downstairs in fifteen minutes. I have never gotten dressed quicker in my life and, when I got downstairs, Pop was waiting in his huge overcoat, holding my coat.
He took me to Hell’s Kitchen, to a tiny apartment over a restaurant that had almost no light and smelled of onions and peppers. There were mousetraps in the corners, linoleum rolling up off of the kitchen floor, and only one, small bedroom. The bathroom was across the hall and intended to be shared with the other, equally microscopic apartment on the floor.
This, he told me, was the place where he had grown up, the apartment that his parents had rented after coming to New York from Italy; he had shared one, double bed with his parents and his older brother until he was ten, when he and his brother were moved to the living room. It was so far from the lap of luxury that Nathan and I grew up in that I was shocked. He told me that he had worked hard in school so that he could go to college, that he had worked full-time at a meat packing factory to go to law school at night, and that it’s important to understand the value of hard work.
When I asked him later if he had ever brought Nathan there, he told me no, that he didn’t think that Nathan would appreciate it the way that I could. It was the only time that my father had ever done anything with me that Nathan hadn’t done first.
After we left the apartment, he bought me lunch at a hot dog vendor, something that Ma would never have allowed. It was the one and only time that I had ever seen my father as the man he must’ve been before he became Arthur Petrelli, Attorney-at-Law, before he had changed his from Arturo and started to become a major player in society.
That day gave me hope that maybe my father wouldn't always be an insufferable bastard.
Peter
* * *
The beginning of the end began with a visitor.
Claire, who had been helping Molly with her algebra homework, had barely registered the sound of the doorbell. Micah, in the middle of finishing up a book report, had been the one to answer the door and then, a moment later, call, “Claire, it’s for you!”
Confused, she had gotten to her feet and headed to the foyer only to be stunned at the sight of West, covered in a light dusting of the snow that had been falling steadily since the night before, clutching a handful of papers.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out in shock, grateful that she, Molly, and Micah were the only ones home.
Running a hand through his long, shaggy hair, he replied, “Look, we don’t have much time. We’ve gotta go.”
“What? West, what’s going on?”
With a sigh, he asked, “Is your dad here?” When Claire shook her head, West breathed in relief. The last thing he wanted to do was have to face an angry Noah Bennet.
“I know that this isn’t going to mean anything and you’re not going to want to trust me, but you have to.”
“West, what - “
“My name isn’t West Rosen; it’s West Bishop. Bob Bishop is my father. The Rosens work for the Company; they were supposed to give me a cover. I’m also not nineteen; I’m twenty-three.” Seeing the stunned expression on Claire’s face, he rushed on, “The Company wanted to keep an eye on you after Kirby Plaza and they picked me to do it. I didn’t want to but it’s what I was raised to do. But you have to believe that I care about you, I really do, and - “
“Shut up,” she ordered, ice filling her chest, disbelief swirling around her. It wasn’t as if he was the first man in her life to lie to her; she had more than her fair share of those. But he was the one person that she had thought to be completely guileless, and the sting of it hurt.
She thought of how many days she had spent at the Rosen home, at the barbecues where she had helped Doctor Rosen man the grill and the shopping trip she had taken with Mrs. Rosen to find West a perfect birthday present. They had treated her like a daughter and the entire time they had just been biding time to get her to Bob. The whole concept of it made her nauseous, and to think that West had come from the same psycho who had hacked into her like she was a side of beef…
“I’m sorry,” West said, sounding as if this confession was genuinely bothering him, “but Elle’s gone off the reservation and I think she’s going to come after you. You’ve got to get out of here.”
“And let me guess, I should hide out with the Company because you can protect me?” she spat.
He shook his head. “No, you need to stay away from them too. I got the Haitian to get you a ticket to Port au Prince; he has family there that will keep you hidden for now. Until this whole mess gets figured out - “
“I’m not going anywhere,” Claire interrupted, “but I think you need to get the hell out of here.”
“Claire, you don’t understand! Elle’s unstable on her best day, and right now she thinks you’re responsible for Peter Petrelli not loving her! She hacked into my dad’s system to get information on the Board, on blood lines, on everything, including all of the information on Sylar! If she goes to him, if she uses what she knows - “
“What does she know?”
West froze, uncertain whether he should reveal what he had found. Despite his affection for Claire, he had been bred to be loyal to the Company first and foremost. If he showed all his cards, there was no way he was ever going to be able to go home.
“Tell me or I’m calling my father.”
Decision made for him, West confessed, “I’m pretty sure that Peter Petrelli isn’t actually a Petrelli; I think it’s way more twisted than that.”
Claire started. “Why would you say that?”
“I found this file on my dad’s computer that breaks down the Board and their families. Peter’s file was in Victoria Pratt’s file…along with Sylar’s.”
Claire’s mind began to race a mile a minute. If what West was saying was true - and she sincerely doubted that it was given his history of lying through his teeth - then she needed to speak to Victoria Pratt immediately. Of course, given that all she knew about Victoria Pratt was that she had gone into hiding in order to avoid being killed by Adam and Arthur, that was going to make the job significantly harder. However, this needed to be done and she knew what she was going to have to do.
Grabbing her coat off of the peg beside the door, she grabbed the papers in West’s hand to reveal a passport that identified her as Eleanor Raines, a plane ticket to Port au Prince, and an envelope of money. Stuffing all of it into her pocket, she stepped to him, causing him to take a step back despite the significant differences in height.
“I am going to go take care of this. You are going to stay here with Molly and Micah until everyone gets home, and then you’re going to tell them what happened with Elle; do not say anything about Peter. If you do something to Molly or Micah, if you even look at them the wrong way, I will kill you. Do you believe me?”
West slowly nodded, believing her words to the very depths of her soul.
With a nod, Claire rushed out the door, leaving West to wonder if he had ever really known who Claire Bennet was.
* * *
To say that Arthur Petrelli was surprised to see his only granddaughter come bursting through the door of the hotel room he was hiding out in was an understatement; after seeing the look on her face after Adam had told her everything, he had expected her to go straight to his sons, tell them everything, and refuse to ever go near him again.
Arthur was beginning to think that he had severely underestimated his granddaughter.
“Claire - “
“I need to know where Victoria Pratt is,” she cut in with no greeting. “I know you said that you can’t find her, but I think you can if you really try.”
Rising off of the bed, Arthur acknowledged, “If I push hard enough, I might - “
“Then do it.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow as he smirked. Oh, yes, he had definitely underestimated his granddaughter; most grown men wouldn’t dare to speak to him the way that she was and she was doing it without a drop of fear within her. The last time anyone had directly challenged him like this, it had been Charles, but that had been a lifetime ago.
“Why do you need to know where Victoria is? She’s not a threat to anyone; she’s far too peace, love, and happiness to be.”
“That’s none of your business.”
Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “You come busting in here asking for a favor and it’s none of my business? I think that if you want my help - “
“And I think that if you want me to keep your little Board assassination scheme, not to mention you being alive quiet, you’ll do it and not ask questions.”
He blinked in shock at the blatant blackmail threat as well as the look in Claire’s eyes. If there was one emotion that Arthur Petrelli was familiar with, it was desperation; whether in the courtroom or at Primatech, he had seen the spectrum of anxiety and he knew what extreme lengths people would go to in order to insure that their world remained exactly how they wanted. Between the Petrelli DNA in her and having been raised by Noah Bennet, Arthur did not doubt that Claire would go as far as she needed to in order to keep her loved ones safe; he wasn’t so sure that she knew the cost to your soul to do so.
“If you need,” he began, softening his tone.
“I need you to find Victoria Pratt and I need you to do it quickly.” Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she gently added, “Please.”
Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath before focusing all of his energy in locating Victoria. He had attempted to find her in the beginning of his and Adam’s quest for the Board members but, upon the realization that she was hiding from the Company as well as Adam’s assurance that she was hardly dangerous, he had quit. After all, he had no ill will towards Victoria; she had always been a good friend to Angela and, when she had left the Company following Adam’s imprisonment, she hadn’t done anything to interfere with business. Victoria had simply drifted into nothingness, starting a life in cancer research and marrying some nameless man who had lived an un-extraordinary life.
As Claire paced the length of the room, Arthur pushed through the mental barriers that Victoria had erected, struggled to the point that he was certain that he would need a tranquilizer to deal with the pain in his head, but, after his nose began to bleed and he was drenched in sweat, he had an address for his granddaughter.
Writing it out for her, he handed it to her and said, “Be safe, Claire.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “No such thing anymore.”
* * *
Sylar was not sure what to make of Elle Raines. He certainly wanted her power; he had never had electrical power and it would definitely be an asset to his repertoire. But the offer she was proposing was so much more enticing and Sylar was nothing if not a practical man.
If he listened to Elle, he could not only have Claire Bennet’s power but also finally kill Peter Petrelli. Life didn’t get much better than that.
The woman in question was currently seated across from him at some dimly lit bistro, his line of vision partially obscured by the centerpiece, and he couldn’t help but think that this was, perhaps, the strangest first date he had ever had. Not that he had many in his prior life…Gabriel had never had the confidence for that.
He could appreciate the beauty of her; she had certainly drawn the appreciative glances of the men around them, but Sylar had long ago sworn off distractions and he had the feeling that Elle Raines was the worst kind of distraction.
“If you want Claire Bennet,” she began after ordering a glass of the most expensive champagne on the list, sipping it as if it was the first alcohol she’d ever ingested, “you have to get rid of the Merry Men.”
“Merry men?” he echoed.
“She’s heavily protected by the others. If you want to get to her, you’re going to have to be able to match her protectors power for power. Now, don’t get me wrong: you have some pretty sweet tricks in that bag, but you’re going to need more.” Noticing his quirked eyebrow and sinister expression, she snapped, “Not mine, jackass!”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“You can’t go directly for Peter again or you’re going to get another Kirby Plaza. Now, Noah won’t be a problem; he’s just a human, the same as Suresh. And really Parkman isn’t that much of a threat; telepathy’s nice and all but it isn’t exactly a defensive power, y’know? The real threats are Niki, Monica, and Nathan.”
“Who would you suggest going directly after?”
“Monica can mimic anything she sees but she’s weak; it’s the whole reason that the Company let her return to New Orleans. If push comes to shove, she’ll be easy to topple and that power will come in handy. Niki’s strong - “
“I remember.”
“Yeah, well, now that her personalities are integrated, she’s fairly stable. That’s why we’re going to have to bring out the crazy.” Leaning forward, her blonde hair shining in the candlelight, “I’ve been replacing her psych meds with placebos for months now to see what happens; if we can get Jessica to come out, we can get her on our side. She’s already starting to crack so it shouldn’t be that much of a challenge.”
“And Nathan? What does he do?”
“He flies. Now, you can’t exactly chase him into the sky so we’re going to need to make you fly.”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Why, by getting you the same power.” Reaching into her tiny purse, she removed a snapshot, which she slid over to him.
Sylar took the picture that featured Claire and a tall boy with dark hair grinning like an idiot.
“His name is West; he’ll get you where you need to go.”
* * *
The phone call that summoned Peter home from work came from Noah, of all people. He had barely gotten the phone to his ear before the former Company man had commanded, “Get home right away.”
It had taken him almost forty-five minutes to find another nurse to take over the care of poor Mrs. Alderman and, when he had teleported home, he had found West Rosen tied to a chair in the living room, the rest of the group assembled, and everyone looking like they were ready to strangle someone.
“What’s going on?”
“Claire left our kids with a Company spy, that’s what!” Niki spat, anxiously pacing the length of the room.
“Mom, calm down,” Micah said sounding bored from his perch on the couch beside Molly.
“Where’s Claire?”
“That would be the question,” Matt stated. “Once he showed up, she took off with a plane ticket, $2000 in cash, and a brand new passport.”
Peter turned to face West, who looked more than a little weary at the sight of Claire’s overprotective uncle. “And why would she have done that?”
“Because West here is Bob Bishop’s son and was sent to Costa Verde specifically to get close to Claire,” Nathan informed him, his face tight as if he was fighting the urge to bludgeon the boy. “His whole job was to make sure that Claire stayed as far away from all of us as possible.”
Peter couldn’t help the rage that began to fill him. He knew from talking to Claire about how close she had gotten to West, how she had wished she could’ve done better by him, and how guilty she had felt leaving him in Kentucky and taking off with Adam when he had been so good to her. To know that it was all a lie, that he had taken advantage of Claire, that he had taken his Claire’s virginity, made him see red.
“You son of a bitch!”
Noah managed to stop Peter before he tackled the chair that West was tied to. “Calm down, Peter! I know how you feel, but if he’s unconscious, he’s of no use to us. Besides, we have bigger problems.”
“Like what?”
Monica, who had thus far been quiet, spoke up, “Like Elle going off to find Sylar to get a little vengeance.”
“What?” he gasped.
“Apparently Elle feels…slighted by you,” Mohinder said as tactfully as possible, “and she feels that Claire is the cause of that. Which, of course, begs the question of why she would feel that way.”
Peter felt his stomach roll, bile stinging his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it back. He couldn’t believe that it had come to this, that his selfishness had brought this down; everyone was in danger, Claire especially, because he couldn’t keep his pants zipped.
If ever there was proof he was a Petrelli…
“I’m sorry,” was all he could manage. “I thought…I didn’t think she’d…She’s not always so terrible,” he lamely finished.
From his place on the chair, West scoffed. “Yeah, for a fucking psycho. Do you even know how she got to be with the Company? Her own dad knew that she was damaged goods; he hoped they’d keep her locked up forever the same way they did Adam.”
“How about instead of debating Elle’s good and bad points we figure out what the hell we’re going to do?” Niki snapped. “She’s with Sylar, we have no idea where Claire is or whose side she’s on - “
“Now wait a minute!” Peter objected. “You can’t honestly think that Claire’s, what, working for the Company? Working for Sylar?”
“How about working with Adam?” Matt suggested. “I got a call today from Ando, Kaito Nakamura’s personal assistant. Hiro Nakamura reappeared in Japan yesterday and wants to help out. He asked me to email him what information we had so they could catch up before they come here; when I sent him the picture of Adam, Hiro freaked out. He said that he knew Adam when his powers first showed up and he called himself Takezo Kensei back then; the story kind of got lost in translation but the end result was that Adam is a bad guy who vowed to wreak vengeance on every member of Hiro’s family.”
“And you think that Adam killed Kaito?”
“I think that it would explain why we always got there too late to save any of the Board members and why your mom’s so scared of him. I mean, if he wants to know what we’re doing, he has to stay close to us and that means he can’t go after Angela. And he and Claire are close.”
Peter looked around the room at the others, who all seemed to be avoiding his gaze. His eyes landing on Noah, he inquired, “Even you? You think that Claire’s capable of some conspiracy to kill the Board?”
With a sigh, Noah admitted, “I know less about my daughter than I ever thought was possible. Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”
“Pete,” Nathan began, “she just took off and won’t let us find her; it’s the same trick that Adam does. And Ma warned me that this could happen, that she’d get wrapped up in the power.”
“But that’s not Claire!” Peter insisted.
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Monica spoke up, “but I don’t think y’all understand what that run-in with Bob did to her. She got very…dark after it. Now I love Claire like a sister but…if she isn’t helping Adam do it, she isn’t stopping him either.”
Peter could only stand there and let the words sink in, wishing with everything that he had that there wasn’t a kernel of truth to Monica’s proclamation.
* * *
It wasn’t easy to find the cabin that Victoria Pratt had decided to spend the rest of her days in, but Claire had persevered. She had spent the majority of the day trying to get the remote location in Washington State, using West’s bundle of cash to get a plane ticket to Seattle followed by a bus ticket to the middle of nowhere and finally hitchhiking with an elderly woman to the driveway of “Anne Smith,” the local recluse.
After hiking up the long, dirt driveway, Claire finally caught sight of the cabin, a small one-storied affair that was surrounded by pristine snow. A large SUV was parked next to the wraparound porch, though it had obviously not been used lately as the snow surrounding the tires was so deep that it nearly covered the wheels. Shivering as another cold wind blew, Claire climbed the steps to the porch and lightly wrapped upon the heavy door. After several moments, she knocked again, louder this time; within the next few moments, she was all but putting her fist through the door in an attempt to get the remaining Board member to open the door.
The sudden sound of a shotgun cocking made Claire spin around quickly, nearly wiping out on a patch of ice; an older woman with red hair stood before her, the double barrel of the shotgun trained on a startled Claire.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
Raising her hands to show that she was unarmed, Claire answered, “My name’s Claire and I’m looking for Victoria Pratt.”
The sound of the shotgun firing was louder than Claire would’ve thought; that was the last thought she had before the slug tore through her chest, shredding her heart with a single shot. As she hit the porch, bleeding profusely, Claire could already feel the excruciating pain of her heart mending itself. When the woman moved to stand over her, Claire stared up into her blue eyes and gasped, “Why the fuck did you do that?!”
She stumbled backwards in surprise before gasping, “Who are you?!”
Still lying on the porch, she winced as her breast bone reformed. “I’m Claire Bennet; Angela Petrelli is my grandmother.”
“So it is true; you’re a regenerator.”
Slowly pushing herself into a sitting position, she asked, “Are you Victoria?”
Extending her hand to help her up, she nodded. “I’m sorry for shooting you, but everyone who knew me as Victoria Pratt is either dead or trying to make sure that I end up that way. I thought you were with the Company.”
Claire brushed the snow and rock salt from her clothing while trying to piece together the front of her jacket to help preserve her modesty. “You could’ve just asked!”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “but hesitation with the Company gets you killed and not all of us have that handy power.” With a sigh, she gestured for Claire to follow her inside of the cabin.
It was sparse inside, utilitarian furniture with almost no decoration. There were plants everywhere, lush and green despite the temperature, and Claire inhaled the heavy scent of flowers. She watched as Victoria moved into the other room, returning with a sweatshirt, which she handed to Claire to wear. Claire accepted it, slipping it over her destroyed shirt, and then watched as Victoria began to make a pot of tea.
“I assume that Angela told you where I was.”
Claire didn’t correct the assumption.
“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone when I contacted her after John’s death so this must be quite the emergency. I don’t imagine that you came 3,000 miles for tea.”
“How much do you know about what’s going on?”
“You mean the original Board being killed off? I’m not living under an assumed name in No Man’s Land because I’m feeling quirky. After Kaito, I knew that it wasn’t coincidence; after my husband died in a crash in the car I always drove, I knew what was happening for certain. Angela confirmed it; she told me to disappear.”
“It’s so much bigger than that. I mean, the whole murdering thing is big but it’s the murders, it’s Shanti, it’s Sylar - “
“It sounds like you’re about to ask me something important,” Victoria declared, handing her a steaming cup and settling into an easy chair.
“Angela won’t tell us anything about before, about what happened. Adam got out of captivity and he won’t either, but he’s the one killing people. The Company began strategically releasing Shanti and there’s someone like us named Sylar who kills people, cuts open their heads, and steals their powers. Oh, and I think that Peter Petrelli isn’t actually a Petrelli because his file was in yours.” At her stunned silence, she added, “You can start wherever.”
Victoria chuckled after a stunned moment. “You know, Angela told me about you. Nathan was maybe three and she told me that she was going to be a grandmother. I laughed, of course, but she told me the vision she had about a beautiful, blonde girl named Claire that would one day be Nathan’s daughter and her granddaughter. She was so happy that day; the mere idea of you gave her such joy. Are you this big of a pain in the ass with her?”
Claire smirked. “Worse.”
“Well, if you want to hear everything, it’s going to take awhile.”
Thinking of Adam, Claire assured her, “No else in the world has as much time as I do.”
* * *
Dear Claire,
I want to believe that you’d never betray us, that you’d never betray me.
I can’t even begin to understand what would make you keep Adam’s secrets but if you are, if you haven’t been tricked and if you’re the villain in a cheerleader’s uniform…
How am I supposed to save the world from you?
Peter
* * *
“I’ve known your grandmother since we were children,” Victoria began as she stirred milk into her tea. “We both suffered through an Upper East Side upbringing, though clearly Angela took to it more than I. While I went off to college and peace rallies, Angela met Arthur. Her parents went nuts, of course; an immigrant’s son, a factory worker, someone of no importance daring to marry their daughter almost caused an international incident. They cut her off completely when she became a Petrelli; I was the only person on her side of the church on the big day.”
Claire blinked in surprise. She never would’ve guessed that Angela’s past had something like that in it; the silver spoon was lodged so firmly into her mouth that Claire could hardly picture her living the life of a pauper for love.
“We went different ways; I finished my PhD, ended up in Haight-Ashbury indulging in far more psychedelic endeavors, and Angela worked as a shop girl while Arthur went to law school. When he graduated, he started his firm above the same shop where Angela worked; we lost touch for awhile but she found me again when Nathan was born. I’d never seen her so happy before; all of the struggle seemed to pay off for her when he came. That was before Arthur left for Vietnam; she was lost while he was gone. I moved in for awhile to try to help. Summer of 69, I was at Woodstock when I met Adam Monroe; he had seen me make flowers grow while I danced.”
“That’s your power?” Claire interrupted.
“I can make any plant grow anyplace I choose no matter what the climate or location.” Gesturing to the flowers that surrounded the house, she confessed, “They’re about the only things that don’t die around me.”
Claire didn’t say anything but she could understand the concept; she often feared that she had the same effect on people.
“Anyway, I introduced him to Charles Deveaux, whom I had met at a civil rights rally. Charles could bring people into memories but he was hardly concerned with that. Adam told us these grand plans he had for people like us, people who could change the world. It was all that Charles and I wanted then; we were so idealistic. We didn’t realize then how…how twisted everything would become.” Looking away from Claire into nothingness, she admitted, “I was the one who brought Angela and Arthur into all of this. I had always known that Angela could dream the future; she had done it since we were little and it had been a game then. I had no idea that Arthur had a power; I thought that it was just too coincidental. Once they were on board, Arthur brought in Daniel, who had saved his life when they were in Vietnam, and he was the one that brought in Kaito and Maury and eventually Bob. The others came later but none of them stayed long; it’s a hard business.”
“I’m learning that.”
“We needed money to start Primatech; none of us were starving but none of us were millionaires then either. Kaito had barely started his company then, Arthur was just starting out, Charles was a public defender, and Daniel was actually unemployed then. It was Daniel who had the idea of how to utilize my power to start the company; he said that performing a criminal act for a greater purpose was still a good deed. I was stupid enough to believe him so I did what he asked.”
“Which was?”
She sneered. “Drugs. Marijuana, cocaine, heroin, mushrooms, I made them all grow on land that Daniel purchased. It was a ‘growth market,’ he said. Next thing I knew, we were rolling in it but it got so much bigger than that; Daniel used the drugs to get into weapons, the weapons to get into the mob, and then he took over. I made Daniel Linderman the king of the gangsters; I’m the reason for all of this.” Victoria wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I was put in charge of research, specifically research to protect civilians from people like us who used their power for evil. It was Arthur’s idea to have an…an anti-virus that would neutralize threats. I had no idea where to even begin until Shanti Suresh died in the early 70s; the disease she died from was unknown and I still don’t know how Kaito got a sample of her blood but I used it to synthesize the first testable strain of Shanti.”
“Wait, first strain?” Claire cut in. “There are different strains?”
Victoria nodded. “11 to be precise, all designed for different purposes. Some were failed experiments but two major strains came into use: one that would simply block the reaction in the brain that causes a power and one that kills. I created cures for both in case they randomly appeared like they did with the Suresh girl, but it was around that time that I realized that the Company didn’t want cures. Somehow our mission changed; it became less about helping people and more about helping ourselves. Maury became psychotic with his power, using it at will or to terrorize; Daniel, Kaito, and Arthur were all hungry for power in any way they could get it. And Bob, he was so resentful of Arthur and the way he had assumed unofficial leadership that he could hardly come to meetings anymore. When the vote came to imprison Adam, I knew I couldn’t stay anymore. Angela begged me to stay, begged me to understand the threat that Adam was, but I couldn’t. I believed in Adam Monroe; for all of his faults, he was the one person in this world that could see it for what it really was.”
“So what did you do?”
“I left New York. I spent the next 5 years traveling, starting and stopping lives all over; as much as I hated what the Company had become, I missed my friends and the rush of what we did. I can’t explain it. The feeling you get when you’re right in the middle of the action, the way that everything is life or death can be so…”
“Freeing,” Claire completed.
Victoria smiled softly. “Exactly. I had stopped in New York on a layover to Los Angeles when my flight was delayed. I decided to spend the night in the city, maybe see Angela and Nathan, when I met this man who was trying to buy a gift for his wife. He was looking at the world’s ugliest snow globes when I bumped into him. His name was Gabe; I never knew his last name. I was so stupid to sleep with him, not only because he was married but because AIDS had just made its appearance. But I did and that was that. I never heard from him again and I didn’t want to. It wasn’t until almost 3 months later that I realized that I was pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Claire echoed.
She nodded. “It was too late to have an abortion, so I went to LA and started another new life. I was 8 months along when Angela showed up on my doorstep. I hadn’t seen her in New York; I hadn’t seen her in years. She had changed so much and was so much colder than she had been when we were younger. When I invited her in, I realized that she was pregnant too. She made small talk for awhile before I finally asked her what she was doing there and she told me that it was Company business.”
“Did she take your baby?!”
Victoria finally returned her gaze upon Claire, shaking her head sadly. “She asked me if I remembered her future granddaughter, the girl named Claire, and I said yes. Angela said that she - well, you - would be a regenerator like Adam, which meant that the Company would want you for the get-go. I offered her some stupid platitude but then she said that the reason she was telling me this was because of the son that I was carrying. He would be incredibly important and powerful; he’d have a power that none of us had seen before and he was going to change the way the Company did business.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “I was so flattered that my son would do that. Angela then said that he was going to marry her granddaughter one day, that they’d fall in love, have children, and they’d destroy the Company that we built to start something better. But, see, she wasn’t happy about that because it meant that you would die. You and my son would die because the Company would never leave you along; as long as there were villains, they’d come after you and your family. Angela said that he would die before his 30th birthday if we didn’t do something.”
Claire suddenly had the urge to vomit, terrified of what she knew was coming.
“You see, we had to do something to make sure that you would never fall in love with each other because if we could do that both of you would be safe. Angela already had a plan. She knew what was going to happen and she had planned ahead; she wasn’t actually pregnant, just wearing padding. She and Arthur were on the rocks and it was easy enough to fake; she already knew when I’d go into labor and had set everything up to make it look like she would suddenly go into labor while in California. I just had to agree to…give him to her.”
It wasn’t until she felt the wetness on her face that Claire realized she was crying for Victoria. “You gave her Peter?”
“I would rather never see my son than know that raising him would lead to his death. I knew that he’d be safe with Angela; she swore that she’d love him like he was her own, that he would be a Petrelli, and what kind of life could I have offered him anyway? I could hardly take care of myself back then. Besides, it would save both of you. That was all we cared about; keeping you and Peter safe was always our goal.”
“Angela doesn’t care about that! She hates me! She set Peter up to destroy New York for the stupid Company! She lied to you and - “
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victoria cut in tersely. “I made sure that Charles kept an eye on Peter; he knew what the plan was and he was the one who told her to count on Peter because he could survive it. Peter was always going to explode; Angela just made sure that Nathan would be there to help fix everything. And if you think that Angela hates you, you don’t your grandmother at all! She kept track of you your entire life; the last time I spoke to her, she was so proud of you.”
“Proud of me?”
Getting to her feet, Victoria crossed to the fireplace, picking up a box resting on the mantle. “She said that you were so much stronger than she is, that you would do good in this world. Angela’s not a monster, Claire; she’s just been around them for so long that she doesn’t remember how to act around people who aren’t ones.”
Claire accepted the box and slid open the lid. There were photographs of Peter through the years, from infancy to present, a clipping of his graduation announcement, the same photo of Nathan and Peter that both brothers kept, and there, at the bottom, was Claire’s senior portrait. Flipping it over, in Angela’s elegant scrawl, were the words that would make Claire’s heart ache: My Claire, 18. It’s so sad, Tori; they would’ve been perfect together.
* * *
“Flying Man!” Hiro Nakamura cried as he and Ando teleported into the Petrelli brownstone, startling everyone, especially Nathan who now had his arms full of Japanese male.
“Hello again, Hiro,” Nathan politely replied, extracting himself from the embrace. “Everyone, this is Hiro Nakamura.”
Glancing around the assembly, the man grinned. “Heroes! We are going to save the world!”
Niki, who was leaning against the doorway, muttered, “What are we going to do, beat them with enthusiasm?”
Unlike the others, Peter couldn’t help but smile at Hiro’s attitude. “We’re glad you’re here, man.”
Slightly more subdued, he stated in English that had vastly improved from his last time in New York, “It is important that we stop Kensei. He is a bad man.”
“We can all agree on that,” Noah assured him.
Ando, who was holding a long, black portfolio, set it on the floor and asked, “Where do you want these?”
“What are they?” Mohinder inquired.
“I went through a warehouse where my father kept his important belongings hoping he would have left us something to fight the bad men. In the back, I found some paintings by Mr. Isaac. I think that they could be very important.”
“The missing paintings…The Haitian and I thought that they were in Ukraine.”
Hiro shrugged.
Matt, who was nearest to Ando, helped him to set it onto the coffee table and unzipped the case, removing the eight, numbered canvasses. The first canvas depicted Claire’s meeting with Adam; the second featured Sylar shooting Mohinder; the third was Claire’s capture and torture; the fourth was of Elle and Sylar’s meeting. When it was quickly determined that the first four canvases were of no use now, Matt quickly arrived at the last four.
In the fifth canvas, Claire was seated in a strange living room with a redheaded woman. There were no identifying details as to the location and both of the women were looking at the opening door with shock and fear on their faces.
“Who is that?” Molly asked, pointing to the redhead.
“Her name’s Victoria Pratt,” Angela spoke up, surprising those who thought that she was still upstairs. “She was on the Board.”
“Why would Claire go to see her?”
“To open Pandora’s Box. Victoria had nothing left to lose; Claire could rope her into almost anything.”
“You said that Victoria was dead,” Mohinder stated.
Unfazed, she retorted, “I lied.”
Moving on to the sixth canvas, it appeared to be nothing more than a cityscape of New York without even so much as a subject. Frustrated, they moved onto the seventh, which caused all of the Petrellis to gasp.
There was Claire, broken and listless, being carried in the arms of Arthur Petrelli.
“Pop,” Nathan murmured in disbelief.
Noah glared at Angela. “You lie about him too?”
The Petrelli matriarch looked as if someone had punched her in the gut. “They couldn’t have…They wouldn’t have…Daniel wouldn’t have…”
“Pop’s alive,” Peter said, testing to see how it sounded out loud.
Nathan reached past Matt to get to the eighth portrait in hopes that it would provide an answer. Instead, it prompted even more questions. They were in Kirby Plaza once again, Sylar and Elle standing together, Bob and several Company employees huddled together, Peter and the others completing the circle, a circle in which Claire and Adam were in the center, both bloodied, clinging to each other. Adam held a gun in his right hand; Claire clutched what looked like a vial in her left.
“We need to find Claire,” Monica declared, stating what everyone was thinking.
If Claire was holding what Monica thought she was holding, her new best friend was going to release the Shanti virus.
* * *
“You really think that you can destroy the Company?” Victoria queried, what sounded almost like amusement playing in her voice.
Claire shrugged. “It’s my destiny, right? Besides, as long as they’re around, we’ll never really be free. And they’ll keep making more people like Elle and letting people like Sylar live.”
Victoria looked at the passport and plane ticket that Claire had given her. “What will I do in Haiti?”
She smiled. “Start over for real. Maybe Eleanor Raines will have a really easy life.”
The older woman laughed. “Oh, it wouldn’t be difficult.” Her expression softening, Victoria queried, “What’s he like?”
Claire paused for a long moment, unsure how to adequately describe Peter. There were so many words that could apply - caring, charming, infuriating, brave, ridiculous - but none of them fully encapsulated what he meant to her. Finally, knowing that there would be no judgment, she said the only thing she could possibly say that would sum it all up.
“He’s my hero.”
Before Victoria could reply, there was the distinctive sound of the lock rattling followed by the door swinging open. Both on their feet, Claire was attempting to locate an exit when Victoria visibly relaxed despite the fact that Claire couldn’t see why.
“What’s going on?” Claire demanded in a panic.
“Relax,” a new, accented voice ordered. “I’m here to help you, darling. Your grandfather sent me.”
And right before her eyes Claire saw the bodyguard her grandfather had sent her.
“Uncle Claude?”