Three days had passed, and Sylar was beginning to think he had the wrong approach to all this; he had contacted several of Peter’s friends, asking for their aid in finding him, but it seemed most of them were way too afraid or comfortable with their lives to risk it for a man who had often put his life on the line for them.
Matt Parkman had a family to think of, and it didn’t help that it was Sylar requesting his help in the first place. Mohinder Suresh was somewhere in India, enjoying a quiet life, and he said he was not going to ruin that for anything, especially when the world was in its current situation. Sylar had also contacted the remaining people of the carnival, but it seemed they had a full time job concealing themselves these days.
He could have asked Claire for help, and she would have probably come, but he didn’t want to involve her if he didn’t absolutely have to; she had started this mess to begin with.
Sylar considered asking Peter’s friend Emma for help, but she didn’t really have sufficient power to aid him. And the biggest problem still loomed ahead of him; how would he find Peter? He could be anywhere by now. He could also be dead.
Looking at Peter’s email – he had often spied over the man’s shoulder to see his password, so he hadn’t had difficulties logging in and finding all the contacts he needed – he was getting a little desperate. In the past, he would have probably just cut his way through the ranks. He wasn’t sure if that was the kind of direction he should take with this.
Suppose that Peter was dead; if Sylar laid low while looking for him, they might not figure out his location. But if Peter was still alive, being overly cautious might cost him too much time…
Sylar didn’t like this feeling of helplessness. There had to be a way to find out where they were holding Peter. It couldn’t be anything too obvious or in the open because he would have broken free otherwise. Unless, of course, he was being Peter and wasn’t even attempting to save himself.
Staring at the computer screen in the dark room, he tried to will some sort of answer to appear. He had been locked inside the apartment since Hesam came by, listening to each sound coming from the outside, expecting someone to break in to go through the apartment. Until now, no such thing had happened. He had lowered the blinds and drawn the curtains, and if someone happened to come in, his level of frustration was so high by now that he would probably kill them before he could even ask what the hell they were doing there.
Suddenly the screen flickered, and as his eyes were drawn to it, he saw a new message had appeared in Peter’s mailbox. Before he could move the mouse over it to click, though, it opened itself on the screen.
“I know you’re looking for Peter, and have been asking for help. I want to help you.” That was what the message said.
“What the hell…” Sylar muttered. He hit ‘reply’ and typed: “Who the hell are you?”
Only few minutes passed before a reply arrived, and once again it opened itself on the screen:
“I helped you before. You know who I am.”
Sylar frowned, his brain working furiously. Who… Then it dawned to him. “Micah.”
A moment passed. He didn’t write a reply, but a few second later a new message arrived:
“Yes. I know where Peter is.”
Sylar guessed that for a boy who could communicate with computers and such, listening to what he was saying with this laptop couldn’t be very hard. He wondered why it had taken such a long time for Micah to contact him. Had he been busy? It didn’t matter. “Tell me,” Sylar simply said, and in a few second another message arrived, with location and details.
“I can come and help you,” the next message said.
“No, I need you to stay hidden,” Sylar told him. “In case they find out or move him, I need you to stay up to date…”
Sylar wondered if it was kind of sad that the only person who had offered his help in finding Peter was a kid. Sure, a whole lot of people hadn’t responded to his messages… He decided it didn’t matter. He knew where Peter was. Now he would send out messages about where to meet him if they wanted to help him, and if no one showed up, Sylar would take care of this himself.
Because that’s what heroes did, especially for each other.
Alaska was cold, Sylar decided. Getting there hadn’t been easy either; he couldn’t just board a plane, so he had to use just about any other means known to man. He made it, though, and was there on time. It was a few hours to the time he had sent to every reliable special on Peter’s mailing list. He didn’t expect any of them to show up, though.
As he peered through the darkness towards a secret military base, he wondered what would be the best way to approach. Stealth or total mayhem? He knew Peter was alive – Micah’s intel was good – so the only problem was getting to him before someone decided killing him would be better than allowing him to escape.
While he thought about that, he kept glancing at his watch. Despite the belief that no one would show up…
Close to midnight he knew it was time to move. Shifts would be changing, men wouldn’t be at their posts, and although he wasn’t too worried about opposition, it would be easier to move in there when things weren’t completely in order. Pocketing his phone and making sure he would at least feel it if he got a message – Micah had promised to keep him up to date if they moved Peter – he straightened his jacket and took a step forward.
He felt the air stir behind him and turned sharply, one hand clenched, power at the ready.
“Is this the rescue party?” Edgar asked, straightening his jacket. He looked a bit windswept, but just as alert as always. So the carnies had gotten his message after all…
Sylar wasn’t sure if he had run all the way from wherever they were currently hiding, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste his time asking. “Seems like it,” he replied. “It’s nice of you to show up.”
Edgar just shrugged. He and Peter had spent more time combating each other than actually cooperating, but after the dust settled, it seemed Edgar knew who his friends were – especially since he was standing here with Sylar for company. “Let’s get going, then,” Edgar said, his fingers playing with one of his favorite knives. He seemed eager to be gone, but it wasn’t as if Sylar had any great desire to linger either; it was getting colder out here if possible.
They set out together, Edgar a step behind him, and Sylar wondered whether they should discuss some kind of plan. He had been so certain he would be doing this alone that he hadn’t even bothered to consider what he should do differently if someone else showed up.
He was distracted, though, by a small sound from the spot they had just left, and a rather loud shout from the darkness: “Sumimasen! Wait, Mr. Sylar!”
Both Sylar and Edgar turned, cringing at the loudness of the cry. Two men were racing after them. Sylar thought he recognized them.
The shorter, round-faced man bowed deep. “I am sorry we are late,” he said, an accent in his voice. “But we are here now, to help rescue Peter Petrelli.”
Edgar was still frowning.
Sylar merely nodded slowly. Peter’s friends… “You’re Hiro?” He recalled that the man used to call him ‘Brain Man’.
“Yes,” Hiro beamed at them through the dark and cold. “Hiro Nakamura! And this is my partner, Ando Masahashi.”
The other man waved at them a bit uncertainly. He seemed to be more aware of the change in temperature than Hiro; they definitely weren’t dressed to be outdoors in Alaska.
“Shall we go?” Ando asked after a few seconds. “I thought we were in a hurry?”
“Yes, let’s go,” Edgar agreed, seeming to decide that it was a better option than staying out here. Perhaps he had met Hiro as well, who knew. He didn’t seem to question their presence here.
“We tried to be on time,” Hiro went on, jogging to keep up with the two men. “It is very hard, though, to calculate the exact time all the way from Japan.”
Ando was trailing him, casting looks around as if waiting for an attack. He wasn’t entirely wrong to expect one, of course, considering they were accessing an area that was forbidden for people who weren’t military.
“Is there a plan?” Edgar finally asked. “Or are we just going to walk to the front gate and knock?”
“I have a man inside, so to speak,” Sylar said. “He’ll make sure the cameras won’t see us. The rest we can take care of by ourselves.”
Edgar didn’t seem to have a problem with that; he merely played with his knife, his strides longer. He looked almost eager. Sylar wondered if he was taking this as a chance for some personal vengeance as well as saving one of them. After all, these past months couldn’t have been easy on the carnies. Sylar didn’t bother to make too many rules, though; if Edgar caused trouble, Sylar would simply have more time to focus on rescuing Peter.
They crept through the darkness to an iron fence. Sylar tested it, and if it had previously been electrified, it was not anymore. Edgar took that as a sign to proceed, and with a movement faster than the eye could see, he slashed and cut a hole in the fence. Sylar spread it telekinetically to make it easier to enter, and so they went through. Since this was a secret military base, there were no spotlights washing over the area or visible guard towers. Most of the levels were underground, and if Micah’s information was correct, that was where Peter was currently held.
The wind whipped around them as they went closer, and Sylar guided them around a corner to a smaller door. He tested the handle, but found the door locked.
“What did you expect?” Edgar asked, almost curious beneath the tone of sarcasm.
Sylar didn’t bother to answer. A door was no object…
Suddenly he heard an electric lock, and as he tried the handle again, the door opened at once. His eyes shot up, and he saw a few cameras strategically placed on the walls; no one could approach the door or enter without being seen. Well, not if the cameras worked. Sylar smiled. It would work to their advantage if these people relied on their technological toys…
They stepped inside, although when he gave their Japanese companions a look, both of them looked a bit leery about such an easy entrance. There was no time to explain, nor would Sylar bother to do so, which meant they had to go on faith if they wanted to follow. That shouldn’t be a problem for Hiro, though.
The corridor was dimly lit and looked abandoned, only it was too clean to be so. Every once in a while they saw cameras, especially at every turn they took, but doors still kept opening for them – with less delay than the first one – and Sylar knew they must be on the right path. Micah was making this mission very easy.
They took the staircase down, and when they came to a door, Sylar felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out, finding a message waiting for him:
“Guards from this point on, armed. You’re on your own. Take the first right, then the left at the end of the corridor. Fourth door on the right. Good luck.”
Sylar read it over a few times so that he wouldn’t turn the wrong way.
“Is this really the time?” Edgar asked impatiently, his voice hushed.
“This is important,” Sylar said, pocketing his phone. “Armed guards from this point on, so if you’re not prepared for that, I suggest you stay here.” He looked at Hiro and Ando, but neither of them even twitched.
“It was too easy this far anyway,” Edgar muttered, peering through the frosted glass.
“We take the first right, then go left at the end of the corridor,” Sylar told them. “Don’t get lost.”
He pushed the door open, stepped out, and was at once spotted by two armed guards in uniform. They blinked, seemed to decide he wasn’t supposed to be here, and raised their guns. They didn’t get further than that before the blur that was Edgar went past him. The men were thrown back, fell down, and didn’t get up. Edgar came back in sight, and small drops of blood slid down the blades of his knives.
Hiro looked a bit squeamish at that. “Do we have to kill them?” he asked, “Wouldn’t it be better –”
The commotion of the attack must have carried over to the next corridor because more armed soldiers ran over, stopped at the sight of them, and opened fire without waiting for an explanation. Sylar raised his hand, guiding the bullets away, and Edgar took cover, as did Ando and Hiro.
Sylar could hear more of them coming and decided he was done playing. One concentrated effort, and he pushed them all back, most of them knocked out with the force of the attack. A siren began to wail in the background. Edgar swore, stood up, ready to attack. But killing all these men wasn’t that appealing to Sylar anymore. He just wanted to find Peter and get him out of here…
Hiro offered him a solution: “I have a plan,” he shouted, reaching towards him and Edgar. “Grab me.”
Sylar moved over, seizing one of Hiro’s arms. Ando already had a hold of his friend. Edgar looked a bit indecisive, but eventually he moved towards them as well and grabbed Hiro’s left arm.
Hiro nodded, then closed his eyes, looking like he was focusing hard, and suddenly the gunfire stopped. Sylar looked around, then realized what must have happened.
“Neat,” Edgar said, stepping back and observing the frozen scene. Bullets hung still in the air, and everything but them had stopped moving.
“Let’s go,” Sylar said, and led the group to the right corridor, then to the end of it before taking the left one as Micah had instructed him. He counted the doors, then stopped in front of one that looked like it was solid steel. He looked at it, then tried to grasp it with his mind. He found it increasingly hard to do it while the time was stopped; it was as if the door had become part of the wall, immovable. “Hiro, you can stop now.”
“Are you sure?” Hiro asked. “The gunmen…”
“They will have to figure out where we went, and I don’t need more than a second.” He didn’t want to move Peter while the time was frozen either.
Hiro did as he requested, a frown on his face, and as soon as the bullets hit the wall back in the first hallway, the door before them was also ripped from its hinges and flew back. The others ducked out of the way while Sylar merely bowed a bit to let the door pass him, his eyes intently peering inside the small room that could have perhaps fit a child, but not a grown man. Peter lay there, huddled in the far corner, his breathing hard and strained. He was wearing a thin pair of white pants which were smeared and dirty. There wasn’t a spot on his skin that wasn’t either dirty, angry red, burned, or covered in bruises, welts and wounds. It even looked like someone had cut open his chest and then stitched it back together…
“Peter,” Sylar called carefully, crouching lower. He didn’t want to hurry the other man, but the soldiers would come searching for them soon; the guns had stopped for now, and feet were moving on the concrete, some of them towards their location.
Peter’s head turned. He squinted a little, as if the pale light was hurting his eyes. “Sylar?”
“Come on,” Sylar encouraged him, offering him his hand.
Peter moved very slowly. Either he was afraid, or then his body was simply broken.
“Peter Petrelli, we’ve come to save you!” Hiro announced as soon as Peter had crawled out.
“We’ll need rescuing soon if we don’t find some kind of shelter,” Edgar said. He was looking towards the hallway they had come from, knives raised.
“Yes,” Sylar said, then looked at Peter, his tone softening as he spoke to him: “Here, take this one…” He held Peter’s hand a bit tighter, offering him a power. Peter seemed to clutch onto it like a leech, his hold on his hand tightening painfully, yet before his very eyes he could see the marks on Peter’s body starting to vanish. Claire was definitely with them in spirit if not in person…
Peter opened his eyes when his breathing was no longer rattling in his lungs, and the last bruises had faded from his skin. It took longer than usual, and he still looked tired, yet determined. He stood up, nodding at Hiro, then glanced at Edgar. “We’ve met,” he stated.
“We have,” Edgar agreed.
Peter offered his hand, and after looking at it, Edgar shook it. He probably meant to do it real quick, but Peter held his hand in his a bit longer before releasing it. Sylar could tell why; he had just taken his ability. “Thanks,” Peter said, which made Edgar frown a little, but he returned to watching the hallway soon after that.
“They’re coming,” he noted.
“Let them,” Peter growled, taking a step forward. “We’ll tear this place down…”
Sylar looked at him. Yes, he understood the rage. Seeing Peter like that, he didn’t want to imagine what they had done to him during his imprisonment. But this was not the way heroes did things. “Maybe we should just go,” he suggested. “We’ve done what we came here to do.”
All of them turned to look at him. Sylar simply looked at Peter, knowing the decision rested on him. A war seemed to be going on inside him, tearing him in opposite directions.
“Killing them won’t change anything – for the better,” Sylar went on. “Are there other specials here we should rescue?”
“Not that I know of,” Peter said hesitantly. His fingers twitched restlessly, as if itching to fight. “But they won’t stop.”
“They won’t stop even if we level this place,” Sylar argued. “They’ll just have an excuse to hunt us down. There has to be some other way.”
Peter stared at him, then sighed. “Fine,” he said. “We leave right now.”
“How?” Edgar demanded. “Well, I can always cut our way through the ranks.” He seemed only too happy to do so.
“Shall I be of assistance?” Hiro suggested.
Edgar gave him a glare; sure, he knew what Hiro could do, but it didn’t mean he liked the idea of their fight being stopped short.
The first group of soldiers came around the corner just then, and Hiro spread his hands. “Quick!” he shouted, and as soon as everyone was touching him, the corridor vanished. They reappeared in an alley in New York, which was noisier and warmer than Alaska had been.
“Well, this was fun,” Edgar noted. “If there’s nothing else…”
“No, thank you for coming,” Sylar said.
“Take care,” Edgar told Peter, then stepped out to the street and vanished from sight.
“He didn’t stick around for long,” Ando noted.
“Who would want to?” Peter mused. “World’s going to hell, and this was just an example of that.”
“We should head home,” Sylar said.
“They’ll come looking for me,” Peter sighed. He leaned against the dirty wall of a building and looked into the darkness.
“That’s why we need to go there now,” Sylar insisted, “before they come. Get our things and leave.”
“And go where?” Peter asked, sounding angry and defeated. “All I ever wanted to do was help people.”
Hiro made a sound of sympathy, looking a bit troubled by this all. “It is a different world.”
“It is,” Sylar agreed.
“Something has to change,” Peter muttered, then looked up at the rest of them. “We have to change it.”
“Change what?” Ando asked.
“The world,” Peter stated, looking like he had just realized something important. He looked at Hiro. “You can change everything.”
Hiro blinked, then looked horrified. “Change the past? No! Stepping on more butterflies… I cannot do it.”
“Is any other world worse than this?” Peter demanded. “It’s going to get worse, Hiro, but you can change it! You’re the one with the ability to go back.”
Hiro looked troubled by this. Sylar knew he and Peter had rarely disagreed, and perhaps it was hard for him to deny Peter’s request, even if it went against some personal code. And anyone could see that the world was going to hell…
Finally Hiro nodded. “It is true. But how are we going to do this? How are we going to change it so that none of this happens?”
Sylar looked at Peter. He had been wondering the same thing.
Peter was staring off into the distance, then seemed to make up his mind. He looked at Sylar. “I’m going to go and talk to Matt Parkman.”
They parted ways with Hiro and Ando. Peter would contact Hiro when it was time to make their move, but until then, Hiro had things to do in Japan.
“I don’t think Parkman will be too thrilled about your visit,” Sylar said as they walked to Peter’s apartment. They would go there quickly, take what they needed, and go. Good thing Hiro had teleported them a few blocks from the apartment, because Peter still wore only the thin pants and Sylar’s jacket.
“He’ll listen,” Peter said. “That will be enough. I’m sure he agrees that the world isn’t a good place for people like us. Something needs to change.”
“So what exactly were you thinking of doing?” Sylar asked him as they stepped inside the building and took the stairs.
Peter opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when someone came down the stairs from the floor above. They both stopped, ready to fight, but when Hesam’s face came into sight, both of them relaxed a bit. “Peter!” the man exclaimed, stopping as well. “I was so… When did you come back?” he swiftly glanced at Sylar, then back at his partner.
“Just now,” Peter said. “Sylar told me you were the one who told him… thank you.”
Hesam nodded nervously. “I thought maybe if he knew… I mean, I recalled that I’ve seen you with someone, and I guess you said you had a friend staying over for a while. I figured that maybe if he was like you…”
“You did the right thing,” Peter reassured him.
“Depends on who you ask,” Sylar observed.
Hesam gave him a nervous look, then shifted a bit. “I should go…”
“Yeah, us too,” Peter said, “Thank you again.”
Hesam nodded and moved past them down the stairs. Sylar looked after him, then followed Peter. No one had been in the apartment since he left, he could tell that. He and Peter quickly went and grabbed a couple of bags, taking a change of clothes and other necessary things with them. Sylar was done first, and chose a spot at the window, staring down at the street, listening. Nothing suspicious happened, and when Peter came out he looked like he was ready to go.
Instead of going back down to the street, they went to the roof. The night was cloudy, and it looked like it might start to rain. “Let’s go,” Peter said after staring at the sky for a moment. He shouldered his bag, then reached towards Sylar, who offered him his hand. He wasn’t shocked when Peter soared into the sky a few second later. Instead he merely sped after him, deciding that he needed to trust Peter’s plan. After all, Peter had been playing a hero a bit longer than he had…
Just as Sylar had guessed, Matt Parkman wasn’t glad to see them. As soon as he saw them on his porch, he hurried back in. The way Sylar cocked his head told Peter that he was listening to the conversation indoors, but he didn’t bother to borrow the ability to do the same; Matt came back soon enough, taking Peter by the arm and guiding him downstairs. Sylar followed with a slight smirk on his face. “I don’t see bricks and cement anywhere,” he commented.
Indeed, the last time they had all been here, it was when Sylar was caught in a nightmare inside his head and Parkman had planned on leaving him on the other side of the wall – literally.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Matt demanded angrily. “I thought I said I wanted nothing to do with this,” he added to Sylar.
“This is something else,” Peter said. “We’re working on making this all stop.”
“How?” Matt asked, sounding highly incredulous. “It’s a mess. I think no ability in the world will make it end. My family… I have to keep them safe!”
“Hiro’s ability makes all the difference – and yours,” Peter added. “And I know exactly where to push to make a change happen.”
Matt seemed to think it over, then shook his head. “No. Absolutely no. I promised myself, no more. My family has to come first.”
Peter frowned, disappointed. But then, he understood Matt’s need to stay clear of this as long as possible, if not for himself than then for his young son.
“Well, thank you for letting us in,” Peter said, offering his hand.
Matt took it without a second thought, looking like he wanted to be rid of them as soon as he could. The moment their hands touched, though, Peter focused and absorbed his ability, and Matt must have realized that a moment later.
“I don’t need your help directly,” Peter confessed, “although I would have preferred you to come and help us.”
Matt just looked at him, then practically shoved them out the door. “Good luck,” he told them, though, before closing the door.
Peter smiled as they set down the path.
“You got what you wanted?” Sylar asked him.
“I needed his power, yes. I would have preferred him, like I said, because he has more practice…”
“Mind control,” Peter replied.
“Whose mind do you plan on controlling?” Sylar questioned as Peter took out his phone and prepared to call Hiro.
“Not control, really,” Peter mused. “I would rather like to call it a… push in the right direction. A warning.” He heard the dial tone, then Hiro picked up. “We’re done,” Peter told him. “It’s time.”
They reappeared at the edge of the carnival in Central Park. In the woods, it was easy to go undetected. Hiro peered towards the bright lights, chattering voices and music. Peter glanced at Sylar, then nodded and moved forward.
The music stopped as they walked; Sylar must have stopped Doyle and saved Emma. They crept closer between the tents. Peter checked the time, but knew it was no use; they would just have to get a better look and see how things were going. The ground trembled, making them hesitate for a moment, then stopped. The fight had ended. Samuel was taken in by the police. Peter looked around, then finally spotted Claire walking with her father, talking. The press was gathered on the other side of the clearing, talking to a blond woman.
“Soon,” Peter said. Hiro nodded; he looked determined. At this point, worrying about a possible outcome was a bit premature.
The press moved over to Claire. She stepped back, hesitated, and Noah tried to stop her. But she went on. She walked through the crowd towards the Ferris wheel. They watched her climb, and Hiro shifted. Peter laid a hand on his shoulder, carefully not to take his power by accident.
Claire stood at the edge, then spread her hands.
“Now!” Peter said, and Sylar grabbed a hold of Hiro just before he stopped time.
It was an eerie scene to walk through; Peter made his way across the clearing, past people who were staring up, some in wonder, some in terror as they began to realize Claire was going to jump. Further away he could see himself, with Sylar, looking up. Noah and the blond woman. Everyone just standing there, but not moving to stop her from telling the world…
Peter climbed up, and he was aware of Sylar following him. He hadn’t asked the man to come with him, but it seemed Sylar wanted to help him. As they stood on the top, Peter took one last steadying breath. She looked so… relieved. Like after she did this, all would be well.
But instead she would create a world where nothing would be the same.
Peter looked past her shoulder at Sylar. Their eyes met, and the other man nodded, looking serious. “This is the right thing to do, Peter,” he said. “Thousands of lives will be saved…”
Did Sylar really believe that, finally, or was he just trying to help him? At this point, Peter didn’t care about that.
He knew what to do. He was determined. He could do this… Peter looked at her unblinking eyes, then pried his way into her mind. It was… strange. Maybe it was the fact that the time was stopped, or perhaps it was his own unwillingness to do this to another person. But he had to do it. He didn’t have to try very hard to remember the days he had spent being tortured, and witnessing others suffer before that. Right now, he could stop all that. Right here.
Closing his eyes, he focused. He had a fairly good idea how Matt had done it. And with his own memories – and Sylar’s – it was so easy to re-create the world she would create…
Peter opened his eyes and stepped back. Sylar gave him a look, then followed him as he climbed down. They joined Hiro in their hiding place, and after one last nod, Hiro allowed the time to move forward again.
Claire’s body swayed a little, then fell. People rushed towards her, but this time she didn’t get up. She didn’t move. Noah seemed to notice that, and both he and Peter rushed over to her.
“When will she wake up?” Hiro asked, watching as they turned her over. She must have been alive – of course she was – but she still didn’t wake up.
“When she’s ready, I guess,” Peter said, looking at Sylar. “That’s how it worked with us.”
“And if not?” Hiro asked.
Peter had thought about that. When Matt shut Sylar into a nightmare, the rules were bent a little when Peter joined him. They woke up, though…
Claire, in her nightmare, would have to live in a world that her decision would create. Hopefully when she woke up, she would know better than to out herself and every other special to the world… And if she didn’t wake up, the result would be the same. Peter didn’t believe she would stay in a dream forever, though.
“What if she still wants to do it?” Sylar asked as they walked back into the woods. Hiro looked at them, no doubt wanting to hear the answer as well.
“Then I guess we just have to try again,” Peter decided. “But I don’t think it will come to that.”
They stopped, and Hiro looked towards the carnival with a wistful look on his face. As if there was something to be missed… Of course, with Hiro’s nature, he would have loved for the world to accept him, just like Claire. At least Hiro was able to accept that wasn’t going to happen, at least not like this.
“There might be others,” Sylar murmured softly, so that only Peter could hear. “There are plenty of files about specials lying around, and sooner or later…”
Peter nodded. He knew that – and feared that day. “Then we’ll just have to try again, when that happens,” he stated. “Hiro,” he added a bit louder. “Let’s go.” It was time to go home.
For a moment he wondered whether they would actually exist when they returned, but did it matter if they had just saved all those innocent people from their deaths?
“It’s done,” Sylar said, taking Peter’s hand in his. He sounded hopeful, just like he had that night when Claire jumped. Like there was something wonderful to look forward to.
Hiro grasped their joined hands, nodded grimly, and then they were off to a better world.
by Del and Jenny
Dead by Sunrise: End of the World
Three Days Grace: Let You Down
The Smashing Pumpkins: The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning
Creedence Clearwater Revival: Bad Moon Rising
All Thieves: Turn and Turn
A Perfect Circle: Imagine
30 Seconds to Mars: Stranger in a Strange Land