(no subject)
Only the Messenger (Ch 8-13)
Heroes | Sylar, Peter, Mohinder, Thompson, OC
PG13-NC17 | 14886
“I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Andrew Miller spoke behind Addison as she walked up to the table, drinks in hand. Although, he had been dead for four days, the astral plane seemed to do him well, as his appearance was altered. He no longer looked disheveled and drunk, but was clean-cut and actually looked his age.
“I can’t talk to you, not right now.” She spoke as she placed the orders on the table smiling her hardest through gritted teeth. The three men looked at her oddly but dismissed her actions as soon as they got their hands on the alcohol.
Narrowly missing an awkward conversation, she turned around and spotted a visitor at an empty table. She flung the tray under her arm and walked briskly over towards the man, Andrew following in tow.
“So did you fly here or walk?” Addison asked as she approached Peter. He let out a loud laugh and looked up at her. “Neither.”
“Neither?” His response had her genuinely dumbfounded.
Peter had a smile on his face as he answered her confused expression, “I teleported.” Addison let out a giggle; she needed a good laugh after everything she’d gone through the past couple of days.
“Hmmm…. You did huh?” playing along as she set a glass of water on his table. She stopped when Andrew, who had been sitting patiently through their little amused giggling, grasped her hand. Addison tried to avoid looking at him, assuming that Peter would think she was crazy talking to air.
This time, Andrew didn’t wait for her response, he growled through his teeth, “I need to talk to you.”
“Hey, leave her alone.” Addison watched as Peter looked straight at Andrew. When Miller didn’t let go of the girl’s hand, Peter moved over to remove it, but his hand slipped right through his.
All three were in shock; Addison couldn’t believe that Peter could see Andrew and neither could Andrew himself. Peter pulled his hand away quickly. It startled him when his hand passed through the man’s and landed on hers.
“What the hell?!” he exclaimed looking at his hand like it wasn’t his own. Addison was staring at him, gaping through an open mouth as she tried to find words to speak.
Peter snapped his eyes to the other man, watching him disappear with a startled expression plastered on his face. He stood up just as the last of Andrew’s body completely disappeared. Curling his left hand around Addison’s wrist he tugged her out of the bar.
She flinched at his touch but didn’t object as he pulled her out into the alley. As soon as they were outside, the cold wind hit her skin and she was extracted from her daze.
“How could you see him?” the words came spilling out of her mouth and she found herself babbling on and on.
Peter flung his hand to her arm as she brought it up as a gesture to her mumbling rant. He was startled when she flinched her arm away, stopping her babbling. She stared at him through doe eyes, holding her hand as she waited for his answer.
“Was that guy invisible?” he asked her as she stood in front of him.
“Invisible?!” she sounded exasperated as her eyes widened, “He’s been dead for four days!! I just thought he was my imagination.” She put her hands up in the air, acting defeated, “Like I was losing my mind.”
Peter threw his hand up to his head, pulling it through his long bangs as he started to pace the dark alley. Addison watched Peter wading back and forth through puddles and she slumped down on the stairs.
He stopped and looked up into the night sky watching the clouds increase. Sighing, he turned back to her and tried to make sense of what had just happened.
“So… you can talk to the dead?” He noticed she was huddling herself against the wind and quickly took off his coat and put it around her shoulders.
She laughed, but it wasn’t amused, “Sounds crazy, huh?” feeling the warmth from his coat wrapped around her shoulders.
Peter sat down next to her and stared at concrete steps. “Any crazier than a guy who sucks up powers like a sponge?”
She stifled a small laugh before lifting her eyes to his. Even though she was smiling, he could tell she was troubled.
“You could always talk to Mohinder,” he said locking eyes with her, “He usually has all the answers.”
She rolled her eyes, using a defeatist tone, “Yeah, can he solve all my other problems?”
Peter smiled and he turned to face her, “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at problem-solving. What kind of problems are they?” She tilted her head, taking a deep sigh, “You don’t want to know.”
Great, I’m sitting here in the cold talking to a man who can fly, teleport, and talk to the dead… and there’s a guy who thinks he’s my brother. How could this day get any worse?
Peter heard her thoughts. “I’m no problem-solver but I think I can help you out with your brother problem.” Peter said trying not to sound too suspicious.
“How?” she asked bewildered, pulling his coat closer as the wind gusted in the alleyway.
“Human sponge, remember?” he smiled, standing up. Peter extended his hand outwards to her, she took it and he pulled her up.
“And how are we going to do that?” Addison asked, looking at him through tired eyes.
“We’re going to go see little you.” He said cocking his head to the right, “All you have to do is think about him.” Her eyes widened as he took her other hand and closed his eyes. The brick walls warped around them and she felt her stomach turn. Squeezing her eyes shut, they disappeared from the alley just as the thunder started to rumble.
-- ooo --
The air warped around them as they reappeared in a tiny corridor. Addison broke away from his grasp, clutching her stomach.
“Sorry. It takes some getting used too.” Peter said, looking around the room. It was dingy and dark and the paint was peeling from the walls. Addison pushed past her nausea, straightening up and examining their surroundings.
“Something’s not right.” Peter whispered as he traced his hand over the wall. “Are you sure you focused on him?” He squinted through the darkness, his eyes falling on Addison.
“Yeah, but where ar…” her voice trailed off when she heard voices and she twisted her body. Running her hand against the wall, she located a door and found the doorknob, turning it. Peter noticed the change in lighting, his eyes widened and he reached out towards her.
“Addison, no.” he yelled softly but she had already opened the door. Her eyes focused on the owners of the voices. Two men stood near the far wall; one had his back to her and the other was cast in shadows. She tuned her ears to the conversation the two men were having as Peter made his way closer to her.
I remember you.
She gripped the edge of the door, hearing a loud slam as the shadowed figure was pushed against the wall and into the light. Addison gasped as she saw the long dark bangs of the man and snapped her head to her right.
“Peter?” she exclaimed, confusion rising in her voice. She examined his expression, ignoring his pleas to return back to the present as she turned her attention back on the scene in the apartment. The other man had his hand around Peter’s throat and was holding him inches from the ground.
You’re like me aren’t you… I’d like to see how that works.
Addison watched in horror as a deep gash was cut into Peter’s forehead, caused by an unseen force. She was terrified but she couldn’t tear her eyes away, the other man’s voice seemed so familiar but his actions were unbelievable.
She lifted her eyes just in time to see Peter’s attacker thrown back against the opposite wall, crashing into a glass cabinet. Peter stabilized himself as he fell down, his rival picking himself up from the wreckage. The light cascaded over his face and Addison saw the man’s features, short dark hair coupled with deep brown eyes shadowed under thick eyebrows.
She took in a short breath, shaking her head, disbelief overtaking her expression as she muttered, “No… it can’t be.” A hand rested on her arm and the surroundings warped around her, replaced with the bright atmosphere of her apartment. She snapped her head around the room, reassuring herself they were back before directing her gaze on Peter.
“I must have been thinking about something else, I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, his eyes looking at the floor, “We’ll find your brother.”
“No, you found him.” Her words were so faint and she felt sick saying them. The man she had just seen was so unfamiliar but she couldn’t help but remember the hint of aggression the Gabriel she knew showed the other night.
Her response caught Peter’s attention; he lifted his gaze up to hers and asked incredulously, “Sylar?”
“Sylar?” Addison questioned, her face contorted in confusion.
“Talking about me?” a darker tone trailed through the room and both swung around. Sylar sat calmly in a large chair; his coat flowing over his knees as they were neatly crossed.
Peter grabbed Addison and pulled her back. Sylar watched his actions and laughed, pulling himself up from the chair. “I’m not going to hurt her,” he paused and looked at Addison, “She is, after all, my sister.” Peter backed away from his adversary, dragging Addison with him, as he watched Sylar’s lips curl into an eerie grin. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for you.”
With a flick of his hand, Peter’s grasp on Addison’s hand broke and she was flung backwards. She slid on the hardwood flooring until her back made contact with the wall.
She scrambled to get up but Sylar turned his head, wagging his forefinger in a mocking tone, “Ah ah ah. I’d stay down if I were you.” He extended his hand out, breaking the leg of a table off as it flew towards his palm. Before it had a chance to connect with his hand, he flicked his fingers outwards and it careened towards Peter, knocking him off his feet.
Peter stumbled to get up but was knocked down again, a wooden chair shattering as it struck his stomach. Sylar continued his assault, throwing any available item at his victim. Wood laid in pieces on the floor as Sylar advanced towards Peter. He grasped him by his throat and pulled him up from the wreckage of his attack.
Clawing at his hand, Peter focused all of his concentration until he felt the hand loosen and drop him as Sylar staggered back. He oriented himself, starting his advance again when Peter flung a stool at him pushing him farther away.
Addison watched their confrontation, fear keeping her from intervening. She constantly repeated to herself that this was not real and that the man in front of her was not Gabriel until a familiar voice sounded in her ears.
“You might want to stop them.” The deceased acquaintance said dully. Addison turned her head, seeing Andrew sitting casually on the floor next to her. Her eyes squinted in disbelief as she replied, “Are you insane?”
He laughed when her answer registered and he pointed his hand to the two still fighting. “It’s not like you’ll get hurt.” Addison shook her head, raising her voice, though it was barely audible against the chaos happening a few feet away. “No, I’ll get killed.”
She saw Andrew’s lips curl into a grin and he turned and faced her, “Well, there’s always that. It’d make my job easier.” He brought up his leg and placed an elbow on his knee, flashing a smile at her.
“What job?” Addison asked, her brown eyes narrowing in his direction. He bounced his eyebrows in a playful expression before looking back at the fight still going on. “Now’s a good time.” He said, indicating the break in chaos. Addison brought her eyes to the two men; they stood feet away from each other. Both were visibly drained, mentally and physically. A combination of scarlet and orange overtook Peter’s hands as they rested at his sides while Sylar’s fingers twitched, waiting for his assault.
Addison took one last look at Andrew before pushing herself up and walking towards the impending destruction. Peter’s hands lifted and she was blinded by the bright light that was emitted, throwing herself in the path.
The force of the blast deafened the room. Addison stood in front of him, eyes boring into his face, but not focusing. Time stood still, minutes passed by, as the shock rocketed through the room. Sylar made no effort to move, he kept his stance, watching her eyes cloud in front of him.
Tears drained from her eyes as her body wavered, falling to her knees and forward. His arms caught her as she fell, guiding her down to the ground. He stared at her body tucked in his grasp before lifting his eyes to gaze through the chaos. His gaze was met with her killer, his face smeared with tears as he scooped up her body and ran out the door.
-- ooo --
The force of her hitting to the ground bolted her awake. She flung upwards violently, staring at the wall across the room, shock overtaking her breathing. Addison buried her face in her palms, trying to recollect the fuzzy memories clouding her mind. Her body twitched remembering her nightmare until a loud crash pulled her from her thoughts.
She gazed at the bedroom door hearing shuffling as she pushed herself off the bed. Walking cautiously towards the door she opened it a few inches and peered out into the living room. Pillows and books lay strewed about the room and she pushed the door open walking in.
Addison bent down and picked up a book, drifting her gaze around the room. It was if a tornado had gone through her apartment, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. She heard footsteps and whizzed around coming face to face with her intruder. The man was in his late 40’s with short salt and pepper hair. He dressed impeccably, wearing a dark gray suit; the smug grin on his face caused her nerves to jump as she stared at him.
“Addison McCallen I take it?” he asked keeping the smile on his face. Addison couldn’t find words, slowly nodding her head in reply. He laughed, looking past her to the wreckage he caused, “Interesting.”
“Who are you?” she questioned, keeping her stance. Thompson nodded his head, walking over to the coffee table and throwing down a pile of folders. He looked back up at her, “A friend.”
Sitting down in a chair, he extended his hand out to the sofa. Addison hesitated but her eyes followed down to the folders on the table as she sat down across from him.
“I’m curious,” he said looking at her, “Do you remember anything from last night?” His question peaked her interest and she tilted her head in confusion.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Addison opened her mouth to protest, but he was right; she had no idea what had happened the night before. Thompson noticed her perplexed expression and he leaned back against the chair, pointing to the folders in front of her. Her hand reached out to the folders and she picked up the first one, opening it up and examining its contents.
The pictures laid out a timeline, starting with the layout of her apartment, followed by images of a chaotic fight between Peter and Gabriel. She thumbed through the photographs, finding shots of her seemingly talking to herself, until she stopped short, staring the last pictures in the file. She gasped looking at them; the images depicted a blinding orange light, preceded with her lifeless body tucked in Gabriel’s arms.
“You died last night, Miss McCallen.”
She lifted her eyes from the images, shock written on her face. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep the shock from being noticed. “Well, clearly I didn’t, as you can see.” She said, her heartbeat rising. He continued to stare at her and Addison got an eerie feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
The smug grin returned on his face and he responded, “Clearly.”
Addison looked back down at the photos on the table and shook her head. Lifting her gaze, she looked back at Thompson, a disgusted look on her face. “So… you were following me?”
“I’d explain, but it’s just a bunch of psychobabble,” Thompson voiced, getting up. “What I can tell you is that we find people like you,” he extended his hand out towards Addison to accent his confession. “and we protect them…. Or put them to justice.”
“What do you want with me then?”
“What I want is for you to find your brother.” He saw her face change and he added, “Yes, we know about Gabriel. Except we know of him as Sylar.” He bent down and picked up another folder, tossing it in her lap. It contained another set of pictures but they were different from the previous folder. From what she saw, they looked like crime scene photos.
She felt sick looking at the images, bodies laid frozen in gruesome positions, all with the tops of their heads removed.
“Believe it or not, that’s the product of your brother.” Thompson said, watching her throw the folder on the table, looking away. Addison bit her lip. Closing her eyes; she shook the images out of her mind.
“How can I believe you,” she said shaking her head, “You raided my apartment. How can I possibly trust this!?” She threw her hand down, pointing to the files. Thompson paced a bit before stopping and giving a response to her question, “You can’t.”
His answer caused her to look up. He held a card in front of her face, taking it; she lifted her gaze to his. “It’s up to you if you want to be an accomplice, but then again, that makes you a criminal.” The smile returned to his face, “If you find him, call.” He said, turning around and exiting her apartment.
-- ooo --
Addison spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the windowsill, watching clouds pass by. Every now and then she would glance at the table to the folders and pictures laid out on it, and every time she would feel the sting of threatening tears.
She turned her head when she heard the door open. Climbing off her perch, Addison hesitated, hearing a familiar voice echo in the other room. Rounding the corner, she found Sylar standing at the door frame, his eyes lifted to Addison as he saw her enter the room.
He played the cards, showing shock on his face, “What happened? Are you alright?” He looked around the room, scanning the wreckage that he had partially created.
“No thanks to you.”
Sylar was genuinely thrown off by her words, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her upper arm as he questioned, “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t.” Addison said, pulling her arm away, causing Sylar to retract his hand hastily. Water started to well up in her brown eyes and she glared at him, “Who are you?”
“Addison, it’s me, Gabriel.” Sylar replied, trying to keep up his appearances but failing. He stared at her, studying her eyes when he noticed the fury behind them.
Before he could react, she had thrown herself at him, pounding her fists against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving running stains as she continued her attack.
“Who are you?!” Addison screamed, pushing him closer to the wall. She brought her fists down for another violent hit but they stopped, hitting an invisible shield. She avoided his gaze as she assaulted his barrier, punching harder and harder until she could break through. “You think you can just take innocent lives?!”
His concentration split, and her fists flew through his guard. Snapping his hands around her wrists, he halted her attack, his face emotionless. She stared at him through wide eyes, trying to convince herself that this was all a dream. His hands tightened around her wrists and she mumbled, fear rising in her voice. “He was right…”
Hearing her words clearly, he clenched his jaw, digging his fingernails into her skin. His mind wanted desperately for her to accept him but his body thought otherwise.
“I just want you to understand.” Sylar’s voice sounded pleading but his face remained frigid and distant. Addison rolled her eyes, pushing her face closer to his to accent her words, she spat, “Because murder is so simple.” She felt the sharp sting of his fingertips sinking into her flesh once again as his body stiffened.
He narrowed his eyes at her reply until he noticed the grimace showing on her face. Loosening his grip, his nails pulled out from the bloody crescents he created, letting his hands return to his sides.
“I can’t… I won’t allow myself to let you go on with this…” Addison faltered watching his expression stay cold. “I can’t be placed with that burden.” She backed away from him, heading for the phone. Sylar allowed her to pick it up, saving his energy. Searching through the contacts, Addison located the number but the phone flew out of her hands before her finger could rest on the call button.
Her gaze lifted to Sylar; his hand was raised in the air as he continued to stare at her. Though there was no evidence of a smile on his face, Addison could tell his ego was getting a boost from looking at his body language.
“I asked you nicely,” he said, his eyes boring into her own, “Now, you’ve put me in a situation I don’t want to be in.”
She turned around, bringing her hand up to strike him but Sylar moved fast. He snatched her by the wrist and swiftly slammed the back of his hand against her cheek, causing her to stumble back. Sylar caught her before she had a chance to recover, grabbing her violently by the jaw and ramming her into the wall.
“Don’t ever try that again.” He hissed, snapping her head to the right. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, hitting his hand and he let go, realizing what he’d done. He had never been physically violent to someone, besides using his ability to gain what others didn’t deserve, but that never required human contact. For the first time in his life, he felt what he could only assume was his conscious.
“I’m sorry.” He stammered, directing his attention to the floor. A mocking laugh filled the room and he lifted his gaze to her frightened face.
“No you’re not. People like you are never sorry.” Her words were bitter and caused Sylar to flinch upon hearing them. Addison saw Sylar’s body stiffen and she braced herself against the wall, anticipating his reaction.
He clenched his jaw watching tears roll down her face, before turning on his heels and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he paused, taking a quick glance at Addison until he turned the knob, leaving her apartment.
The click of the lock caused Addison to sink down to the floor, tears falling freely as she buried her face in her hands. She stayed in that position for what seemed like hours until a knock on the door broke her trance. Addison pushed herself up, hastily wiping the tears from her face as she approached the door. Wrapping her hand around the knob, she opened the door, coming face to face with Thompson.
“You didn’t do as you were told.”
“I tried… it’s…” she stopped her sentence, noticing the unnerving smile plastered on his face. She scrunched her face in confusion, opening her mouth to question, but she was halted when she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders. A cloth covered her nose and mouth and she felt the biting sting of chloroform.
Addison stumbled, feeling the chemicals take affect. Her eyelids became heavy as she fought to stay awake. Thompson’s smug grin imprinted itself in her mind as she drifted, the drug finally taking hold of her body.
-- ooo --
Her eyes opened, staring groggily around the room. Addison sighed, pushing herself up from the cold, hard slate they excused as a bed. The room was small, with stark white walls and a large mirrored surface. Chills ran up her spine as she realized that it wasn’t a mirror but a two-way window. The air was freezing and she tucked her knees up to her chest, staring at the dark paned glass. She could tell someone was watching.
Almost instantly, the large metal door opened and a man in a white coat walked in, followed by Thompson. He stopped at the window, while the white coat advanced on Addison, carrying a tray. Addison huddled against the wall, trying desperately to push herself as far away as possible. He filled the needle with liquid and bent down over her trembling form when the door blasted open and another man directed his attention to Thompson, “Sir!”
Thompson pulled up a hand to halt the white coat, receiving confirmation from the suit that their visitor had arrived. He strode up, placing his hand on the other man’s arm, “That won’t be necessary.” Addison lifted her eyes up to Thompson long enough to see him smile and attempt to pull her up.
Addison swung her fist and it connected with his jaw. She scrambled up, preparing to escape from him, but he shot out his hand and grabbed her ankle. Addison lost her footing and fell on the cold floor. Pushing herself up on her hands, she turned around, her heartbeat rising.
“I hate you.” She spat, watching him straighten up and rub his jaw. Thompson reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Honey, the feeling is mutual.” He tugged on her arm violently and she flew towards him. Dragging her across the room, he opened the door and tossed her into a chair. He took a quick glance at the security cameras, sighing as he turned around and grabbed her once again, pulling her along as they exited the room.
He made his way down the hall, hauling her with him as he reached the elevator. Several guards had followed and were surrounding them, no doubt assuring that she wouldn’t escape. The elevator dinged and Thompson gripped her arm, pulling her into the elevator. Doors closing, the elevator lowered until reaching the ground floor. Addison kept her eyes down on the tile, letting him drag her about the building until they stopped at the entrance doors. She looked up at him confused, and he kept a defiant attitude, responding to her expression.
“Now, I have a little situation on my hands.” He paused, still holding her upper arm. “I could drag you around the plaza and have a hundred people stare at us, or…” His grip on her arm tightened and Addison cringed. “You could behave and follow along, like a good little girl.” Thompson’s eyebrow rose, seeing Addison push her lip out, glaring daggers at him.
“Oh. Such a look.” He said, a smile forming on his face. Opening the door, he released her arm and she walked outside, watching him cautiously. It was a cold day in New York and the wind blew in the plaza as she stood looking at the large crowd of people. Thompson had walked past her and the guards that should have made it their duty to watch her were aimlessly walking with Thompson. She knew that if she had tried to escape, they would make her regret it so she pushed on, following them until she collided with a native.
The man brushed his bangs out of his eyes and lifted his face, a sparkling smile placed upon it. His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he awkwardly backed up. “It’s not possible.” He muttered, his brown eyes wide. Addison felt the prick of hurt as she gazed at his expression. The young man continued to back up, throwing himself into the onslaught of New York City crowds.
“No! No, No Peter!!! I’m not dead!” Addison screamed through the chaos. Her pleading eyes followed Peter as he shook his head, disappearing in the mass of people.
“Try and keep up, Miss McCallen.” Thompson’s voice broke next to her. He lifted his hand to her arm, but she jerked her shoulder away, glaring at him as she passed by, following the guards.
The escorts forced their way past the flocks of people until they reached the signature statue that stood in the center of the plaza. Sylar had been standing at the base of the monument and the guards circled around Addison, blocking any form of escape. Thompson walked up to him, holding his hand out in a friendly matter, but Sylar only glared at him with an frigid stare. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding up a tape as it was instantly consumed with ice.
Thompson let out a laugh; reaching into the sentinel cage he grabbed Addison by the arm. “Nice trick. Why don’t we take this inside?” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun and pressed it into her ribs.
When Sylar didn’t respond quick enough, Thompson cocked the gun, causing Addison to whimper, hearing the gun click as she stared at him through watery eyes.
Sylar kept his expression cold, raising his eyebrow in compliance as he followed the group into the building. As soon as they had entered through the doors, the guards scattered, leaving the three alone in a vacant room. Sylar was curious but he didn’t think too much on it, as he continued the effect of an unnerving atmosphere.
The silence was broken when Thompson’s gun flew out of his hands. He jerked his body in surprise, his hand loosening around Addison’s arm as she ran towards Sylar.
Sylar tilted his head slightly, holding the shock from showing on his face. He hadn’t moved the gun from Thompson’s hand, which meant someone else was in the room. Addison latched onto his arm and he quickly pulled her behind him, seeing Thompson return his gaze on them both.
“I’m impressed.” Thompson said through a dead cold stare. Sylar felt Addison push forward but he held her back, meeting Thompson’s gaze with one of his own. He heard a faint heartbeat and he cautiously directed his attention towards the sound. Thompson noticed his eyes dart and he muffled a laugh, turning his head, but he was thrown into the wall before he could get his eyes on course.
Sylar and Addison stared at Thompson with wide eyes, until he was slammed into the door and a figure started to materialize, holding him against the metal.
“Peter?!” Addison exclaimed, breathless. She felt Sylar’s muscles tense under her hand as he glared at him. Sylar pulled away from her; walking briskly up to Peter, he flicked his fingers out, pushing Peter away from Thompson. Peter stumbled back, blocking the full effect of his power and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell!? I just helped you!” he growled.
“I don’t need your help.” Sylar yelled, clenching his teeth. Thompson started to move but Sylar shot out his hand, holding him firmly by the throat. He kept his eyes on Peter, until he started to disappear from his view. Ignoring him, Sylar looked back at Thompson, tightening his grasp as he smirked.
“Killing me won’t accomplish anything.” Thompson said, gasping for air. Sylar laughed, lifting his free hand towards his neck, giving a devious grin. A high pitched shriek echoed in the room as he dragged his finger inches from his throat, drawing blood. He continued his attack but was stopped when a chair connected with his back. His victim fell to the ground, coughing madly as Sylar pushed himself from the wall, turning around.
“You don’t give up, do you?” he questioned, finding Peter standing confidently in front of him. Peter kept his stance, replying “What can I say? Helping killers isn’t exactly my cup of tea.” A taunting smile broke out on his face and Sylar laughed, returning his mocking answer, “Didn’t you become one?”
A sharp crackling sound echoed in the room as Sylar’s hands were engulfed in a bright blue light. Peter countered his provocation with one of his own, taking a deep breath, his hands sparked up in a deep orange shade. Sylar kicked his foot out, beginning his advancement when a loud bang rang in his ears.
The gunshot caught their attention, and they turned around quickly staring at the source for the noise. Addison stood a few feet away, Thompson holding the back of her jacket as he held the gun up in the air. He was bleeding profusely from his throat but it didn’t seem to bother him. Lowering the gun, he pushed it against her jaw bone.
Sylar got over the shock, sighing in relief, as he shifted his gaze to Peter. The empath stared at him confused before picking up the clue his mind sent. Thompson narrowed his eyes at Sylar, watching Peter disappear once again his hand tightened over the trigger.
Sylar stood defiantly, waiting patiently as he continued his confrontation with Thompson. After a few minutes, Addison was jerked out of Thompson’s grasp, giving him an opportunity. He threw out his hand, and the gun came flying towards him. He grasped it, quickly unloading the barrel into Thompson’s chest.
Peter pulled her down, out of Thompson’s hold as he back collided with the wall. Losing control of his invisibility, his figure gained more substance and became less faint.
Addison opened her eyes, lifting them up, she saw Peter sitting in front of her smiling. She didn’t try to move from his lap as her eyes lit up, returning his expression with a giddy smile. Peter absent-mindedly reached out, wiping the tears from her face until he looked up at Sylar.
She followed his gaze and pushed herself up from Peter’s lap, as she hesitantly walked up to Sylar. As soon as she had gotten close enough and he hadn’t moved, she threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her face in his coat. Sylar didn’t seem as surprised as he did before, hugging her back before he pulled her away from him. He looked at Peter from across the hall, but drifted his gaze back on Addison, giving an almost inaudible reply, “You need to go.”
Standing up from the wall, Peter picked up the feedback emitting from Sylar’s mind. This won’t ever happen again. Peter tilted his head in Sylar’s direction and he met his expression with a hard stare, Next time I see you, you’re dead.
Sylar smirked, knowing Peter had just read his mind, as he watched Peter walk up. Peter took Addison’s hand, guiding her down the hallway and out of view, leaving the building and undesired chaos behind.
-- ooo --
The low beats of music droned in the background as Addison sat at the bar, counting her tips. The tavern was almost vacant, despite a few customers here and there. Addison sighed, folding the bills and stuffing them in the back pocket of her jeans. It had been her first night back since the altercation at Kirby Plaza, she was tired, confused and had gotten an earful from Dean.
1:05 am
Her brown eyes drifted up towards the clock on the wall, watching the hand click softly, as she ran her hands through her hair, pulling it up in a messy bun. The door to the back opened and Dean came walking out, placing a glass of water in front of her. She gave him a small smile, taking the glass and drinking slowly.
Dean’s eyes surveyed the room, locating two customers who seemed pre-occupied with the music and entertainment on the television. He lowered his eyes just as Addison brought hers up.
“Are you ever going to tell me where you’ve been the past 2 weeks?” he asked, smiling as he saw her head shake in disbelief. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She replied, finally giving a genuine smile.
It had been a week ago, today, that she had left that building and her brother behind. For some reason, she couldn’t get that notion out of her head. She hadn’t heard from Gabriel since then, so the only assumption she had was that they had caught him or he was dead. She swallowed hard, thinking of the worst case scenario.
Addison glanced back at the clock, hearing the dull tick of the time echo in her ears.
1:08 am
She rolled her eyes on how slow the clock was, as she lifted a hand to rub her tired eyes. Raising the glass to her lips, a familiar voice broke behind her.
“Anything good here?” he questioned, and Addison nearly spilled her drink. Spinning around on the stool, she faced a black overcoat. She lifted her eyes up to his face, recognizing his dark eyes and features. He stared down at her, keeping his expression stern, but her smile caused him to break and he smiled back.
Her face fell and she hesitated, bringing her hand out to touch his arm. Sylar noticed and he muffled a laugh, feeling her hand connect with his wrist. “I’m not dead.” He responded, but before he could react, she had bounded off the stool and had latched her arms around his neck, hugging tightly.
Sylar wrapped an arm around her waist, fearing that she’d fall and take him down with her, finally lowering her down and taking a seat next to her at the bar. Sylar placed his elbows on the bar top, staring at the dark grains in the wood before sighing and lifting his gaze to her. “I want you to have a normal life.”
“Normal?” she exclaimed, her voice ringing in his ears. “I’m never going to have a normal life, Gabriel.” Sylar’s hand twitched when he heard her say Gabriel, she was the only person who actually made him accept that name, she didn’t use it for a special agenda like his mother did or use it as an insignificant trait like the rest; she just said it like it was. No meaning behind it, except compassion.
He looked at her and smiled, “As normal a life as you can make it,” he trailed off, looking at the clock, “I just don’t want you involved in the things I’m in.” he said, finishing his sentence and pushing himself up from the stool. Addison turned herself around as he got up. Pausing for a second, he lowered his face down and kissed her on the forehead, “See you around.”
She followed his gaze as they met the clock once again and he narrowed his dark eyes before turning and heading for the exit.
1:15 am
Addison dropped her eyes to the floor but brought them back up when she heard his voice, “By the way, your clock is broken.” His hand slipped into the pocket of his coat and he wrapped his hand around another small piece of paper before walking out into the cold.
“He could almost pass as a normal human being.” Another familiar voice said, and Addison jumped when she turned her head and saw Peter appear, his body lounged back in a relaxed manner. Punching him in the arm playfully, she lowered her voice “Don’t do that, you know it freaks me out.”
“Sorry,” he said, laughing as he grabbed her glass of water and took a drink. Lowering the glass down, his bangs flopped down in his eyes and he pushed them aside, asking “Are you done for the night?”
Addison nodded, raising herself up from the stool and disappearing in the back room. She re-emerged, holding her coat and walked up to Peter, who had waited by the door. She pulled her jacket on, her eyes catching a glimpse of a figure by a table. Addison paused, watching Andrew stand behind the table, his hand on the chair. She watched as his normal street clothes were replaced with golden garments. He smiled at her and disappeared in a misty glow.
“Everything alright?” Peter asked, looking at her. Addison smiled brightly and replied back, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
1:25 am
Heroes | Sylar, Peter, Mohinder, Thompson, OC
PG13-NC17 | 14886
“I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Andrew Miller spoke behind Addison as she walked up to the table, drinks in hand. Although, he had been dead for four days, the astral plane seemed to do him well, as his appearance was altered. He no longer looked disheveled and drunk, but was clean-cut and actually looked his age.
“I can’t talk to you, not right now.” She spoke as she placed the orders on the table smiling her hardest through gritted teeth. The three men looked at her oddly but dismissed her actions as soon as they got their hands on the alcohol.
Narrowly missing an awkward conversation, she turned around and spotted a visitor at an empty table. She flung the tray under her arm and walked briskly over towards the man, Andrew following in tow.
“So did you fly here or walk?” Addison asked as she approached Peter. He let out a loud laugh and looked up at her. “Neither.”
“Neither?” His response had her genuinely dumbfounded.
Peter had a smile on his face as he answered her confused expression, “I teleported.” Addison let out a giggle; she needed a good laugh after everything she’d gone through the past couple of days.
“Hmmm…. You did huh?” playing along as she set a glass of water on his table. She stopped when Andrew, who had been sitting patiently through their little amused giggling, grasped her hand. Addison tried to avoid looking at him, assuming that Peter would think she was crazy talking to air.
This time, Andrew didn’t wait for her response, he growled through his teeth, “I need to talk to you.”
“Hey, leave her alone.” Addison watched as Peter looked straight at Andrew. When Miller didn’t let go of the girl’s hand, Peter moved over to remove it, but his hand slipped right through his.
All three were in shock; Addison couldn’t believe that Peter could see Andrew and neither could Andrew himself. Peter pulled his hand away quickly. It startled him when his hand passed through the man’s and landed on hers.
“What the hell?!” he exclaimed looking at his hand like it wasn’t his own. Addison was staring at him, gaping through an open mouth as she tried to find words to speak.
Peter snapped his eyes to the other man, watching him disappear with a startled expression plastered on his face. He stood up just as the last of Andrew’s body completely disappeared. Curling his left hand around Addison’s wrist he tugged her out of the bar.
She flinched at his touch but didn’t object as he pulled her out into the alley. As soon as they were outside, the cold wind hit her skin and she was extracted from her daze.
“How could you see him?” the words came spilling out of her mouth and she found herself babbling on and on.
Peter flung his hand to her arm as she brought it up as a gesture to her mumbling rant. He was startled when she flinched her arm away, stopping her babbling. She stared at him through doe eyes, holding her hand as she waited for his answer.
“Was that guy invisible?” he asked her as she stood in front of him.
“Invisible?!” she sounded exasperated as her eyes widened, “He’s been dead for four days!! I just thought he was my imagination.” She put her hands up in the air, acting defeated, “Like I was losing my mind.”
Peter threw his hand up to his head, pulling it through his long bangs as he started to pace the dark alley. Addison watched Peter wading back and forth through puddles and she slumped down on the stairs.
He stopped and looked up into the night sky watching the clouds increase. Sighing, he turned back to her and tried to make sense of what had just happened.
“So… you can talk to the dead?” He noticed she was huddling herself against the wind and quickly took off his coat and put it around her shoulders.
She laughed, but it wasn’t amused, “Sounds crazy, huh?” feeling the warmth from his coat wrapped around her shoulders.
Peter sat down next to her and stared at concrete steps. “Any crazier than a guy who sucks up powers like a sponge?”
She stifled a small laugh before lifting her eyes to his. Even though she was smiling, he could tell she was troubled.
“You could always talk to Mohinder,” he said locking eyes with her, “He usually has all the answers.”
She rolled her eyes, using a defeatist tone, “Yeah, can he solve all my other problems?”
Peter smiled and he turned to face her, “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at problem-solving. What kind of problems are they?” She tilted her head, taking a deep sigh, “You don’t want to know.”
Great, I’m sitting here in the cold talking to a man who can fly, teleport, and talk to the dead… and there’s a guy who thinks he’s my brother. How could this day get any worse?
Peter heard her thoughts. “I’m no problem-solver but I think I can help you out with your brother problem.” Peter said trying not to sound too suspicious.
“How?” she asked bewildered, pulling his coat closer as the wind gusted in the alleyway.
“Human sponge, remember?” he smiled, standing up. Peter extended his hand outwards to her, she took it and he pulled her up.
“And how are we going to do that?” Addison asked, looking at him through tired eyes.
“We’re going to go see little you.” He said cocking his head to the right, “All you have to do is think about him.” Her eyes widened as he took her other hand and closed his eyes. The brick walls warped around them and she felt her stomach turn. Squeezing her eyes shut, they disappeared from the alley just as the thunder started to rumble.
-- ooo --
The air warped around them as they reappeared in a tiny corridor. Addison broke away from his grasp, clutching her stomach.
“Sorry. It takes some getting used too.” Peter said, looking around the room. It was dingy and dark and the paint was peeling from the walls. Addison pushed past her nausea, straightening up and examining their surroundings.
“Something’s not right.” Peter whispered as he traced his hand over the wall. “Are you sure you focused on him?” He squinted through the darkness, his eyes falling on Addison.
“Yeah, but where ar…” her voice trailed off when she heard voices and she twisted her body. Running her hand against the wall, she located a door and found the doorknob, turning it. Peter noticed the change in lighting, his eyes widened and he reached out towards her.
“Addison, no.” he yelled softly but she had already opened the door. Her eyes focused on the owners of the voices. Two men stood near the far wall; one had his back to her and the other was cast in shadows. She tuned her ears to the conversation the two men were having as Peter made his way closer to her.
I remember you.
She gripped the edge of the door, hearing a loud slam as the shadowed figure was pushed against the wall and into the light. Addison gasped as she saw the long dark bangs of the man and snapped her head to her right.
“Peter?” she exclaimed, confusion rising in her voice. She examined his expression, ignoring his pleas to return back to the present as she turned her attention back on the scene in the apartment. The other man had his hand around Peter’s throat and was holding him inches from the ground.
You’re like me aren’t you… I’d like to see how that works.
Addison watched in horror as a deep gash was cut into Peter’s forehead, caused by an unseen force. She was terrified but she couldn’t tear her eyes away, the other man’s voice seemed so familiar but his actions were unbelievable.
She lifted her eyes just in time to see Peter’s attacker thrown back against the opposite wall, crashing into a glass cabinet. Peter stabilized himself as he fell down, his rival picking himself up from the wreckage. The light cascaded over his face and Addison saw the man’s features, short dark hair coupled with deep brown eyes shadowed under thick eyebrows.
She took in a short breath, shaking her head, disbelief overtaking her expression as she muttered, “No… it can’t be.” A hand rested on her arm and the surroundings warped around her, replaced with the bright atmosphere of her apartment. She snapped her head around the room, reassuring herself they were back before directing her gaze on Peter.
“I must have been thinking about something else, I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, his eyes looking at the floor, “We’ll find your brother.”
“No, you found him.” Her words were so faint and she felt sick saying them. The man she had just seen was so unfamiliar but she couldn’t help but remember the hint of aggression the Gabriel she knew showed the other night.
Her response caught Peter’s attention; he lifted his gaze up to hers and asked incredulously, “Sylar?”
“Sylar?” Addison questioned, her face contorted in confusion.
“Talking about me?” a darker tone trailed through the room and both swung around. Sylar sat calmly in a large chair; his coat flowing over his knees as they were neatly crossed.
Peter grabbed Addison and pulled her back. Sylar watched his actions and laughed, pulling himself up from the chair. “I’m not going to hurt her,” he paused and looked at Addison, “She is, after all, my sister.” Peter backed away from his adversary, dragging Addison with him, as he watched Sylar’s lips curl into an eerie grin. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for you.”
With a flick of his hand, Peter’s grasp on Addison’s hand broke and she was flung backwards. She slid on the hardwood flooring until her back made contact with the wall.
She scrambled to get up but Sylar turned his head, wagging his forefinger in a mocking tone, “Ah ah ah. I’d stay down if I were you.” He extended his hand out, breaking the leg of a table off as it flew towards his palm. Before it had a chance to connect with his hand, he flicked his fingers outwards and it careened towards Peter, knocking him off his feet.
Peter stumbled to get up but was knocked down again, a wooden chair shattering as it struck his stomach. Sylar continued his assault, throwing any available item at his victim. Wood laid in pieces on the floor as Sylar advanced towards Peter. He grasped him by his throat and pulled him up from the wreckage of his attack.
Clawing at his hand, Peter focused all of his concentration until he felt the hand loosen and drop him as Sylar staggered back. He oriented himself, starting his advance again when Peter flung a stool at him pushing him farther away.
Addison watched their confrontation, fear keeping her from intervening. She constantly repeated to herself that this was not real and that the man in front of her was not Gabriel until a familiar voice sounded in her ears.
“You might want to stop them.” The deceased acquaintance said dully. Addison turned her head, seeing Andrew sitting casually on the floor next to her. Her eyes squinted in disbelief as she replied, “Are you insane?”
He laughed when her answer registered and he pointed his hand to the two still fighting. “It’s not like you’ll get hurt.” Addison shook her head, raising her voice, though it was barely audible against the chaos happening a few feet away. “No, I’ll get killed.”
She saw Andrew’s lips curl into a grin and he turned and faced her, “Well, there’s always that. It’d make my job easier.” He brought up his leg and placed an elbow on his knee, flashing a smile at her.
“What job?” Addison asked, her brown eyes narrowing in his direction. He bounced his eyebrows in a playful expression before looking back at the fight still going on. “Now’s a good time.” He said, indicating the break in chaos. Addison brought her eyes to the two men; they stood feet away from each other. Both were visibly drained, mentally and physically. A combination of scarlet and orange overtook Peter’s hands as they rested at his sides while Sylar’s fingers twitched, waiting for his assault.
Addison took one last look at Andrew before pushing herself up and walking towards the impending destruction. Peter’s hands lifted and she was blinded by the bright light that was emitted, throwing herself in the path.
The force of the blast deafened the room. Addison stood in front of him, eyes boring into his face, but not focusing. Time stood still, minutes passed by, as the shock rocketed through the room. Sylar made no effort to move, he kept his stance, watching her eyes cloud in front of him.
Tears drained from her eyes as her body wavered, falling to her knees and forward. His arms caught her as she fell, guiding her down to the ground. He stared at her body tucked in his grasp before lifting his eyes to gaze through the chaos. His gaze was met with her killer, his face smeared with tears as he scooped up her body and ran out the door.
-- ooo --
The force of her hitting to the ground bolted her awake. She flung upwards violently, staring at the wall across the room, shock overtaking her breathing. Addison buried her face in her palms, trying to recollect the fuzzy memories clouding her mind. Her body twitched remembering her nightmare until a loud crash pulled her from her thoughts.
She gazed at the bedroom door hearing shuffling as she pushed herself off the bed. Walking cautiously towards the door she opened it a few inches and peered out into the living room. Pillows and books lay strewed about the room and she pushed the door open walking in.
Addison bent down and picked up a book, drifting her gaze around the room. It was if a tornado had gone through her apartment, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. She heard footsteps and whizzed around coming face to face with her intruder. The man was in his late 40’s with short salt and pepper hair. He dressed impeccably, wearing a dark gray suit; the smug grin on his face caused her nerves to jump as she stared at him.
“Addison McCallen I take it?” he asked keeping the smile on his face. Addison couldn’t find words, slowly nodding her head in reply. He laughed, looking past her to the wreckage he caused, “Interesting.”
“Who are you?” she questioned, keeping her stance. Thompson nodded his head, walking over to the coffee table and throwing down a pile of folders. He looked back up at her, “A friend.”
Sitting down in a chair, he extended his hand out to the sofa. Addison hesitated but her eyes followed down to the folders on the table as she sat down across from him.
“I’m curious,” he said looking at her, “Do you remember anything from last night?” His question peaked her interest and she tilted her head in confusion.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Addison opened her mouth to protest, but he was right; she had no idea what had happened the night before. Thompson noticed her perplexed expression and he leaned back against the chair, pointing to the folders in front of her. Her hand reached out to the folders and she picked up the first one, opening it up and examining its contents.
The pictures laid out a timeline, starting with the layout of her apartment, followed by images of a chaotic fight between Peter and Gabriel. She thumbed through the photographs, finding shots of her seemingly talking to herself, until she stopped short, staring the last pictures in the file. She gasped looking at them; the images depicted a blinding orange light, preceded with her lifeless body tucked in Gabriel’s arms.
“You died last night, Miss McCallen.”
She lifted her eyes from the images, shock written on her face. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep the shock from being noticed. “Well, clearly I didn’t, as you can see.” She said, her heartbeat rising. He continued to stare at her and Addison got an eerie feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.
The smug grin returned on his face and he responded, “Clearly.”
Addison looked back down at the photos on the table and shook her head. Lifting her gaze, she looked back at Thompson, a disgusted look on her face. “So… you were following me?”
“I’d explain, but it’s just a bunch of psychobabble,” Thompson voiced, getting up. “What I can tell you is that we find people like you,” he extended his hand out towards Addison to accent his confession. “and we protect them…. Or put them to justice.”
“What do you want with me then?”
“What I want is for you to find your brother.” He saw her face change and he added, “Yes, we know about Gabriel. Except we know of him as Sylar.” He bent down and picked up another folder, tossing it in her lap. It contained another set of pictures but they were different from the previous folder. From what she saw, they looked like crime scene photos.
She felt sick looking at the images, bodies laid frozen in gruesome positions, all with the tops of their heads removed.
“Believe it or not, that’s the product of your brother.” Thompson said, watching her throw the folder on the table, looking away. Addison bit her lip. Closing her eyes; she shook the images out of her mind.
“How can I believe you,” she said shaking her head, “You raided my apartment. How can I possibly trust this!?” She threw her hand down, pointing to the files. Thompson paced a bit before stopping and giving a response to her question, “You can’t.”
His answer caused her to look up. He held a card in front of her face, taking it; she lifted her gaze to his. “It’s up to you if you want to be an accomplice, but then again, that makes you a criminal.” The smile returned to his face, “If you find him, call.” He said, turning around and exiting her apartment.
-- ooo --
Addison spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the windowsill, watching clouds pass by. Every now and then she would glance at the table to the folders and pictures laid out on it, and every time she would feel the sting of threatening tears.
She turned her head when she heard the door open. Climbing off her perch, Addison hesitated, hearing a familiar voice echo in the other room. Rounding the corner, she found Sylar standing at the door frame, his eyes lifted to Addison as he saw her enter the room.
He played the cards, showing shock on his face, “What happened? Are you alright?” He looked around the room, scanning the wreckage that he had partially created.
“No thanks to you.”
Sylar was genuinely thrown off by her words, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her upper arm as he questioned, “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t.” Addison said, pulling her arm away, causing Sylar to retract his hand hastily. Water started to well up in her brown eyes and she glared at him, “Who are you?”
“Addison, it’s me, Gabriel.” Sylar replied, trying to keep up his appearances but failing. He stared at her, studying her eyes when he noticed the fury behind them.
Before he could react, she had thrown herself at him, pounding her fists against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving running stains as she continued her attack.
“Who are you?!” Addison screamed, pushing him closer to the wall. She brought her fists down for another violent hit but they stopped, hitting an invisible shield. She avoided his gaze as she assaulted his barrier, punching harder and harder until she could break through. “You think you can just take innocent lives?!”
His concentration split, and her fists flew through his guard. Snapping his hands around her wrists, he halted her attack, his face emotionless. She stared at him through wide eyes, trying to convince herself that this was all a dream. His hands tightened around her wrists and she mumbled, fear rising in her voice. “He was right…”
Hearing her words clearly, he clenched his jaw, digging his fingernails into her skin. His mind wanted desperately for her to accept him but his body thought otherwise.
“I just want you to understand.” Sylar’s voice sounded pleading but his face remained frigid and distant. Addison rolled her eyes, pushing her face closer to his to accent her words, she spat, “Because murder is so simple.” She felt the sharp sting of his fingertips sinking into her flesh once again as his body stiffened.
He narrowed his eyes at her reply until he noticed the grimace showing on her face. Loosening his grip, his nails pulled out from the bloody crescents he created, letting his hands return to his sides.
“I can’t… I won’t allow myself to let you go on with this…” Addison faltered watching his expression stay cold. “I can’t be placed with that burden.” She backed away from him, heading for the phone. Sylar allowed her to pick it up, saving his energy. Searching through the contacts, Addison located the number but the phone flew out of her hands before her finger could rest on the call button.
Her gaze lifted to Sylar; his hand was raised in the air as he continued to stare at her. Though there was no evidence of a smile on his face, Addison could tell his ego was getting a boost from looking at his body language.
“I asked you nicely,” he said, his eyes boring into her own, “Now, you’ve put me in a situation I don’t want to be in.”
She turned around, bringing her hand up to strike him but Sylar moved fast. He snatched her by the wrist and swiftly slammed the back of his hand against her cheek, causing her to stumble back. Sylar caught her before she had a chance to recover, grabbing her violently by the jaw and ramming her into the wall.
“Don’t ever try that again.” He hissed, snapping her head to the right. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, hitting his hand and he let go, realizing what he’d done. He had never been physically violent to someone, besides using his ability to gain what others didn’t deserve, but that never required human contact. For the first time in his life, he felt what he could only assume was his conscious.
“I’m sorry.” He stammered, directing his attention to the floor. A mocking laugh filled the room and he lifted his gaze to her frightened face.
“No you’re not. People like you are never sorry.” Her words were bitter and caused Sylar to flinch upon hearing them. Addison saw Sylar’s body stiffen and she braced herself against the wall, anticipating his reaction.
He clenched his jaw watching tears roll down her face, before turning on his heels and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he paused, taking a quick glance at Addison until he turned the knob, leaving her apartment.
The click of the lock caused Addison to sink down to the floor, tears falling freely as she buried her face in her hands. She stayed in that position for what seemed like hours until a knock on the door broke her trance. Addison pushed herself up, hastily wiping the tears from her face as she approached the door. Wrapping her hand around the knob, she opened the door, coming face to face with Thompson.
“You didn’t do as you were told.”
“I tried… it’s…” she stopped her sentence, noticing the unnerving smile plastered on his face. She scrunched her face in confusion, opening her mouth to question, but she was halted when she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders. A cloth covered her nose and mouth and she felt the biting sting of chloroform.
Addison stumbled, feeling the chemicals take affect. Her eyelids became heavy as she fought to stay awake. Thompson’s smug grin imprinted itself in her mind as she drifted, the drug finally taking hold of her body.
-- ooo --
Her eyes opened, staring groggily around the room. Addison sighed, pushing herself up from the cold, hard slate they excused as a bed. The room was small, with stark white walls and a large mirrored surface. Chills ran up her spine as she realized that it wasn’t a mirror but a two-way window. The air was freezing and she tucked her knees up to her chest, staring at the dark paned glass. She could tell someone was watching.
Almost instantly, the large metal door opened and a man in a white coat walked in, followed by Thompson. He stopped at the window, while the white coat advanced on Addison, carrying a tray. Addison huddled against the wall, trying desperately to push herself as far away as possible. He filled the needle with liquid and bent down over her trembling form when the door blasted open and another man directed his attention to Thompson, “Sir!”
Thompson pulled up a hand to halt the white coat, receiving confirmation from the suit that their visitor had arrived. He strode up, placing his hand on the other man’s arm, “That won’t be necessary.” Addison lifted her eyes up to Thompson long enough to see him smile and attempt to pull her up.
Addison swung her fist and it connected with his jaw. She scrambled up, preparing to escape from him, but he shot out his hand and grabbed her ankle. Addison lost her footing and fell on the cold floor. Pushing herself up on her hands, she turned around, her heartbeat rising.
“I hate you.” She spat, watching him straighten up and rub his jaw. Thompson reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Honey, the feeling is mutual.” He tugged on her arm violently and she flew towards him. Dragging her across the room, he opened the door and tossed her into a chair. He took a quick glance at the security cameras, sighing as he turned around and grabbed her once again, pulling her along as they exited the room.
He made his way down the hall, hauling her with him as he reached the elevator. Several guards had followed and were surrounding them, no doubt assuring that she wouldn’t escape. The elevator dinged and Thompson gripped her arm, pulling her into the elevator. Doors closing, the elevator lowered until reaching the ground floor. Addison kept her eyes down on the tile, letting him drag her about the building until they stopped at the entrance doors. She looked up at him confused, and he kept a defiant attitude, responding to her expression.
“Now, I have a little situation on my hands.” He paused, still holding her upper arm. “I could drag you around the plaza and have a hundred people stare at us, or…” His grip on her arm tightened and Addison cringed. “You could behave and follow along, like a good little girl.” Thompson’s eyebrow rose, seeing Addison push her lip out, glaring daggers at him.
“Oh. Such a look.” He said, a smile forming on his face. Opening the door, he released her arm and she walked outside, watching him cautiously. It was a cold day in New York and the wind blew in the plaza as she stood looking at the large crowd of people. Thompson had walked past her and the guards that should have made it their duty to watch her were aimlessly walking with Thompson. She knew that if she had tried to escape, they would make her regret it so she pushed on, following them until she collided with a native.
The man brushed his bangs out of his eyes and lifted his face, a sparkling smile placed upon it. His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he awkwardly backed up. “It’s not possible.” He muttered, his brown eyes wide. Addison felt the prick of hurt as she gazed at his expression. The young man continued to back up, throwing himself into the onslaught of New York City crowds.
“No! No, No Peter!!! I’m not dead!” Addison screamed through the chaos. Her pleading eyes followed Peter as he shook his head, disappearing in the mass of people.
“Try and keep up, Miss McCallen.” Thompson’s voice broke next to her. He lifted his hand to her arm, but she jerked her shoulder away, glaring at him as she passed by, following the guards.
The escorts forced their way past the flocks of people until they reached the signature statue that stood in the center of the plaza. Sylar had been standing at the base of the monument and the guards circled around Addison, blocking any form of escape. Thompson walked up to him, holding his hand out in a friendly matter, but Sylar only glared at him with an frigid stare. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding up a tape as it was instantly consumed with ice.
Thompson let out a laugh; reaching into the sentinel cage he grabbed Addison by the arm. “Nice trick. Why don’t we take this inside?” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun and pressed it into her ribs.
When Sylar didn’t respond quick enough, Thompson cocked the gun, causing Addison to whimper, hearing the gun click as she stared at him through watery eyes.
Sylar kept his expression cold, raising his eyebrow in compliance as he followed the group into the building. As soon as they had entered through the doors, the guards scattered, leaving the three alone in a vacant room. Sylar was curious but he didn’t think too much on it, as he continued the effect of an unnerving atmosphere.
The silence was broken when Thompson’s gun flew out of his hands. He jerked his body in surprise, his hand loosening around Addison’s arm as she ran towards Sylar.
Sylar tilted his head slightly, holding the shock from showing on his face. He hadn’t moved the gun from Thompson’s hand, which meant someone else was in the room. Addison latched onto his arm and he quickly pulled her behind him, seeing Thompson return his gaze on them both.
“I’m impressed.” Thompson said through a dead cold stare. Sylar felt Addison push forward but he held her back, meeting Thompson’s gaze with one of his own. He heard a faint heartbeat and he cautiously directed his attention towards the sound. Thompson noticed his eyes dart and he muffled a laugh, turning his head, but he was thrown into the wall before he could get his eyes on course.
Sylar and Addison stared at Thompson with wide eyes, until he was slammed into the door and a figure started to materialize, holding him against the metal.
“Peter?!” Addison exclaimed, breathless. She felt Sylar’s muscles tense under her hand as he glared at him. Sylar pulled away from her; walking briskly up to Peter, he flicked his fingers out, pushing Peter away from Thompson. Peter stumbled back, blocking the full effect of his power and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell!? I just helped you!” he growled.
“I don’t need your help.” Sylar yelled, clenching his teeth. Thompson started to move but Sylar shot out his hand, holding him firmly by the throat. He kept his eyes on Peter, until he started to disappear from his view. Ignoring him, Sylar looked back at Thompson, tightening his grasp as he smirked.
“Killing me won’t accomplish anything.” Thompson said, gasping for air. Sylar laughed, lifting his free hand towards his neck, giving a devious grin. A high pitched shriek echoed in the room as he dragged his finger inches from his throat, drawing blood. He continued his attack but was stopped when a chair connected with his back. His victim fell to the ground, coughing madly as Sylar pushed himself from the wall, turning around.
“You don’t give up, do you?” he questioned, finding Peter standing confidently in front of him. Peter kept his stance, replying “What can I say? Helping killers isn’t exactly my cup of tea.” A taunting smile broke out on his face and Sylar laughed, returning his mocking answer, “Didn’t you become one?”
A sharp crackling sound echoed in the room as Sylar’s hands were engulfed in a bright blue light. Peter countered his provocation with one of his own, taking a deep breath, his hands sparked up in a deep orange shade. Sylar kicked his foot out, beginning his advancement when a loud bang rang in his ears.
The gunshot caught their attention, and they turned around quickly staring at the source for the noise. Addison stood a few feet away, Thompson holding the back of her jacket as he held the gun up in the air. He was bleeding profusely from his throat but it didn’t seem to bother him. Lowering the gun, he pushed it against her jaw bone.
Sylar got over the shock, sighing in relief, as he shifted his gaze to Peter. The empath stared at him confused before picking up the clue his mind sent. Thompson narrowed his eyes at Sylar, watching Peter disappear once again his hand tightened over the trigger.
Sylar stood defiantly, waiting patiently as he continued his confrontation with Thompson. After a few minutes, Addison was jerked out of Thompson’s grasp, giving him an opportunity. He threw out his hand, and the gun came flying towards him. He grasped it, quickly unloading the barrel into Thompson’s chest.
Peter pulled her down, out of Thompson’s hold as he back collided with the wall. Losing control of his invisibility, his figure gained more substance and became less faint.
Addison opened her eyes, lifting them up, she saw Peter sitting in front of her smiling. She didn’t try to move from his lap as her eyes lit up, returning his expression with a giddy smile. Peter absent-mindedly reached out, wiping the tears from her face until he looked up at Sylar.
She followed his gaze and pushed herself up from Peter’s lap, as she hesitantly walked up to Sylar. As soon as she had gotten close enough and he hadn’t moved, she threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her face in his coat. Sylar didn’t seem as surprised as he did before, hugging her back before he pulled her away from him. He looked at Peter from across the hall, but drifted his gaze back on Addison, giving an almost inaudible reply, “You need to go.”
Standing up from the wall, Peter picked up the feedback emitting from Sylar’s mind. This won’t ever happen again. Peter tilted his head in Sylar’s direction and he met his expression with a hard stare, Next time I see you, you’re dead.
Sylar smirked, knowing Peter had just read his mind, as he watched Peter walk up. Peter took Addison’s hand, guiding her down the hallway and out of view, leaving the building and undesired chaos behind.
-- ooo --
The low beats of music droned in the background as Addison sat at the bar, counting her tips. The tavern was almost vacant, despite a few customers here and there. Addison sighed, folding the bills and stuffing them in the back pocket of her jeans. It had been her first night back since the altercation at Kirby Plaza, she was tired, confused and had gotten an earful from Dean.
1:05 am
Her brown eyes drifted up towards the clock on the wall, watching the hand click softly, as she ran her hands through her hair, pulling it up in a messy bun. The door to the back opened and Dean came walking out, placing a glass of water in front of her. She gave him a small smile, taking the glass and drinking slowly.
Dean’s eyes surveyed the room, locating two customers who seemed pre-occupied with the music and entertainment on the television. He lowered his eyes just as Addison brought hers up.
“Are you ever going to tell me where you’ve been the past 2 weeks?” he asked, smiling as he saw her head shake in disbelief. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She replied, finally giving a genuine smile.
It had been a week ago, today, that she had left that building and her brother behind. For some reason, she couldn’t get that notion out of her head. She hadn’t heard from Gabriel since then, so the only assumption she had was that they had caught him or he was dead. She swallowed hard, thinking of the worst case scenario.
Addison glanced back at the clock, hearing the dull tick of the time echo in her ears.
1:08 am
She rolled her eyes on how slow the clock was, as she lifted a hand to rub her tired eyes. Raising the glass to her lips, a familiar voice broke behind her.
“Anything good here?” he questioned, and Addison nearly spilled her drink. Spinning around on the stool, she faced a black overcoat. She lifted her eyes up to his face, recognizing his dark eyes and features. He stared down at her, keeping his expression stern, but her smile caused him to break and he smiled back.
Her face fell and she hesitated, bringing her hand out to touch his arm. Sylar noticed and he muffled a laugh, feeling her hand connect with his wrist. “I’m not dead.” He responded, but before he could react, she had bounded off the stool and had latched her arms around his neck, hugging tightly.
Sylar wrapped an arm around her waist, fearing that she’d fall and take him down with her, finally lowering her down and taking a seat next to her at the bar. Sylar placed his elbows on the bar top, staring at the dark grains in the wood before sighing and lifting his gaze to her. “I want you to have a normal life.”
“Normal?” she exclaimed, her voice ringing in his ears. “I’m never going to have a normal life, Gabriel.” Sylar’s hand twitched when he heard her say Gabriel, she was the only person who actually made him accept that name, she didn’t use it for a special agenda like his mother did or use it as an insignificant trait like the rest; she just said it like it was. No meaning behind it, except compassion.
He looked at her and smiled, “As normal a life as you can make it,” he trailed off, looking at the clock, “I just don’t want you involved in the things I’m in.” he said, finishing his sentence and pushing himself up from the stool. Addison turned herself around as he got up. Pausing for a second, he lowered his face down and kissed her on the forehead, “See you around.”
She followed his gaze as they met the clock once again and he narrowed his dark eyes before turning and heading for the exit.
1:15 am
Addison dropped her eyes to the floor but brought them back up when she heard his voice, “By the way, your clock is broken.” His hand slipped into the pocket of his coat and he wrapped his hand around another small piece of paper before walking out into the cold.
“He could almost pass as a normal human being.” Another familiar voice said, and Addison jumped when she turned her head and saw Peter appear, his body lounged back in a relaxed manner. Punching him in the arm playfully, she lowered her voice “Don’t do that, you know it freaks me out.”
“Sorry,” he said, laughing as he grabbed her glass of water and took a drink. Lowering the glass down, his bangs flopped down in his eyes and he pushed them aside, asking “Are you done for the night?”
Addison nodded, raising herself up from the stool and disappearing in the back room. She re-emerged, holding her coat and walked up to Peter, who had waited by the door. She pulled her jacket on, her eyes catching a glimpse of a figure by a table. Addison paused, watching Andrew stand behind the table, his hand on the chair. She watched as his normal street clothes were replaced with golden garments. He smiled at her and disappeared in a misty glow.
“Everything alright?” Peter asked, looking at her. Addison smiled brightly and replied back, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
1:25 am