Chapter Seventeen

Peter, Arthur/Angela, Bob, Nathan, HRG, Heidi, (talk of Claire)

Please remember to review good or bad, I need to know if its all worth it and how to improv if I need to. Even a "hi. bye"

Peter Petrelli had always liked dogs. But while Nathan, his brother, would have straight out asked or demanded for one as a child, Peter would only sit in his room and dream of one. He knew his parents weren’t dog people, so he kept his inclination to himself. Yet, it was hard not to notice the look on Peter’s face when he saw a dog on the street, at a friend’s home, or the theme that started to emerge in the small sketches found in the corners of the young boy’s notebook.. When Peter was eight and Nathan was nineteen, Nathan bought Peter a dog, a huge Bernese Mountain / Saint Bernard mix, a picture of the dog still sits next to the rows of pictures in Angela’s living room. The dog choice fit Nathan’s personality perfectly.

“That dog is too big for him and this house,” Angela demanded.

“Well, it’s my gift and he can’t return it.” Nathan said forcefully, but with his great smile and an air of mischief.

Angela wasn’t happy.

One day, about five months later, Angela was standing on the sidewalk talking to someone politely, Peter and Angela can’t remember who, while Peter, off to the side behind her, played with his dog, petting and nuzzling him, his small hands holding the dog’s light blue leash.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the dog busted from Peter’s tiny grip and darted out into the street. Peter, out of instinct, ran after the dog at full force.

Angela turned her head behind her, as she saw her son dart past her at a lighting speed. “Peter!” she yelled, reaching out her arm and taking two huge steps toward him, grabbing on to him and stopping him as he reached the curb.

Peter struggled to get away and Angela had to crouch down and wrap her entire arm around him, holding him to her chest, so Peter wouldn’t run off.

The sound of a car screeching to a stop filled the Manhattan air.

“Noo!!” little Peter cried out, as he watched his beloved dog fall to his death on the pavement.

Angela pulled Peter closer in what looked like a loving hug, but what she was really trying to do was keep Peter from running out into the New York City street as she felt him struggle beneath her grip.

“Why did you stop me!?” Peter wailed, as tears ran down his face.

“Shhh.” Angela cooed in his ear to calm him. “Shhh.”

“I could have saved him.” Peter tried to hold in his tears.

“No. No you couldn’t.” Angela informed him softly, as she tried to soothe him. “You would have gotten yourself killed, “ she remarked in a sterner manner.

“I don’t care, I don’t care!” Peter whimpered as tears, once again, started to overcome his eyes.

Angela turned her son toward her forcefully, holding him tight by his forearms with both hands. She looked him dead in the eye. “Listen to me,” her voice was full of concern and purpose.“ Don’t you ever think like that. Ever! Do you hear me, Peter. Getting yourself killed by running out into the street to save that dog – accomplishes nothing. Your death affects more people than that dog’s does. If you died, it would affect more than you, it would affect me, your father, Nathan – your friends – the person in that car that hit you, that person’s family – their children. You have to think about the larger picture when it comes to your actions, Peter. You can’t only do what you want to do, you have to think of the larger purpose, the larger goal –the few for the many. While the death of your dog hurts you, Peter – your death affects and hurts many more than just you. Sometimes, no matter how much it hurts us personally, in our hearts, we must put our own personal feelings aside for what is good -- “ Her voice calmed down to a low serious tone. “For the many. Do you understand, Peter? Your feelings and thoughts are nothing compared to the feelings, thoughts – the lives of others. Tell me you understand me, Peter? This is important. It is important that you understand me, Peter.”

Little Peter nodded his head as small tears fell down his cheeks. Angela hugged him for a brief moment, his tears soaking the back of her neck. She slowly lifted her son away from her, dried his tears with her fingers and smiled at him. It was a moment Peter would never forget, it was a lesson he took to his heart, he just didn’t take it the way Angela had intended it.

2001

Arthur Petrelli rarely visited the Company anymore. He was always too busy with clients and Linderman. He, like many of the founders now, was a busy man with important obligations that did not include visiting the “business “ he had a hand in. Besides, Arthur was a high ranking founder, he didn’t do that anymore. Or at least he didn’t choose to. Arthur Petrelli was a regal man who demanded respect from everyone, even from his wife and his wife was the same in return; they were a perfect match. Still, Arthur had many issues that plagued him. Issues he would pass along to his sons, whether he wanted to or not.

Arthur still had an office in Kirby Plaza, just like the rest of them, but Kirby Plaza wasn’t more than labs, offices and no major jail cells what so ever – it was more for business. Therefore, if Arthur, or any of the founders wanted to check up on their “investment” and inspect the daily goings on of the bag and tag that had to be done at Primatech Research or Primatech Paper. Since Hartsdale NY was closer to New York City most of Arthur’s visits were done at Primatech Research. He still did it rarely, Linderman almost never. Arthur felt ignorance was the truest evil of all – he would not aloud himself to be a figure head – the business at The Company was too important.

When founders did visit places like Hartsdale they met with very few people. Anonymity was paramount for the safety of one’s family and person. That’s why it was so surprising to Arthur when he crossed paths with Noah Bennet. For so many reasons, if he had known the man was there he would have made himself scarce. If he had known perhaps none of it would have happened, perhaps history would have taken a different turn, but that’s for another chapter.

Arthur had of course taken over Bob’s office while he was there, something they all did when they arrived in Hartsdale - Linderman, Kaito, even Angela. Taking over Bob’s office with their own space and their own gumption. It was something Bob hated, but was of course used to by now – it was just the unspoken hierarchy to which Bob played second fiddle. It was enough to give a man a complex; Bob was lucky his talents had gotten him a long way with women. Elle’s mother was an example of how having a golden touch could give a man things other men could only dream of - and that included pretty blondes.

Still, Bob respected the unspoken line of succession, most of them were, after all, more powerful than him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting in the wings with bated breath - plans and schemes. It didn’t mean he wasn’t someone who was capable of a hostile takeover.

If his eyes would have given him away, Arthur Petrelli would have been in big trouble. But, lucky for him, by this time in his life at the age of nearly 60, Arthur knew how to be covert. When men can read minds and women can dream of the future, one learns quickly how to not let something as simple as one’s face give away one’s secrets.

The two men shook hands. By this time Noah had met Kaito, Bob and now Arthur. Arthur purposely left out his last name. But, that was what was done at the Company. Last names were rarely used.

“Call me Arthur.” Petrelli nodded his head and Bennet grinned professionally.

These two men had so much in common, besides their love for Claire. They were both pragmatic Company men, who understood the madness that they made company with. They were both passionate, not averse to violence to make it count, and they both were passionate about protecting their family. They were realists, they were honorable men by their own standards, and they both had grey hues of liquid morality kept inside them by a hard outside shell. If they had known the binds they both shared, the two would have gotten along famously. They were men whose convictions and off-the-deep-end commitment would in the future get them both killed. Only one would recover.

Arthur and Noah talked business and only business. Arthur made sure to make no references to Claire, AKA the child everyone knew the man kept as his own. Noah Bennet seemed like a nice enough man, as Kaito had told him, loyal, eager, determined - the kind of man, as Bob once said “Once he get’s something in his teeth he’ll never let go.” There was no doubt in the minds of Arthur or anyone within the Company that knew or met Noah Bennet, that he would never put the girl before Company interests. Therefore, once the girl manifested Arthur and Angela knew that the second act of this play would begin. Although, perhaps Bennet would never find out, Arthur wondered, never find out what Claire could do - after all Petrellis were very good at hiding their secrets.

And then just as what seemed like the briefest meeting in history was about to end and the two men would go their separate ways for a lifetime, Bob threw a subject into the room, seemingly out of nowhere.

“How’s that foundling of yours?” Bob questioned, yet with very little concern about the child.

“I’m sorry?” Arthur asked as he set a file onto the desk in front of him. He looked up at the two men.

“Bennet here is taking care of that child who was rescued from that fire in Texas.”

Noah nodded his head. “She’s doing well. No signs of manifestation. But, it’s still early. She’s only nine. We have time.” Noah smiled and nodded his head again. He still had so much youth left inside of him. That would change soon, just as it had changed Arthur Petrelli. “How do you find fatherhood?” Arthur questioned, yet wondered to himself if perhaps he shouldn’t have.

What Arthur didn’t know was that Bennet, much like himself, would have to be careful with

his answers. “I’m not really her father... surrogate father, really. She’s just an assignment,” He looked over at Bob and then back at Arthur. “ I understand that.”

Arthur would never know that Bennet was lying.

“You have no other children?”

“A son. Lyle. Younger. He’s four... almost five.”

“How do you find it?” Arthur waited for an answer as if he was a professor quizzing a student. Perhaps Arthur was just checking in, getting some reassurance or peace of mind.

“I’m on business a lot.”

“Of course.”

Bennet walked a few steps into the room. “Do you have children, sir?” Bennet asked, trying to take control of the conversation and the subject off him.

Bob took a step forward and Arthur waved him off.

“Yes, I have two boys...and two grandsons.” Arthur sat on the corner of Bob’s desk.

“Then you know. Fatherhood. It’s...it’s... that fine line. A fine line between being the bad guy and being their hero. Telling them what they have to do to keep them safe and letting them make their own mistakes. I think I tread that line like any father, does…” He smiled. “I suppose I make of it just fine. It is what it is, isn’t it?”

“And when the girl manifests?” It was as if Arthur was testing him.

Bennet grinned large and nodded his head. “You’d be the first person I would tell.”

Somehow those words seemed familiar to Arthur, but he wasn’t sure why. What he couldn’t remember was that it was very similar to Angela’s response to Linderman when he asked her an almost identical question about Peter.

And then Bob lead Noah out of his office, but not before Bennet and Petrelli gave each other a firm handshake and locked eyes. Arthur nodded his head and occupied himself with putting his reading glasses back on the bridge of his nose, getting back to work at hand as if he had better things to be doing. Finally, Bob and Noah left the room and left Arthur alone.

Arthur walked around Bob’s desk to get back to work, catching sight of the mess of files stretched out on the desk like a Rorschach test, when his eye took notice of one particular file. It was what looked to be Bennet’s file, peeking out with its ivory name tab from under a few files set on top of it. Looking closer Arthur could see that the tab did indeed read: Bennet, Noah.

Arthur didn’t want to look at the file, he couldn’t, he knew what was inside, but he still had to fight the urge not to give into his temptations as Angela’s words ran in his head, “Don’t look at her picture.” Arthur had to keep his objectivity, as Angela called it. He was, after all, the one who had taught Angela that same lesson. It was not a mantra Arthur was new too. Still, Arthur Petrelli found himself slowly pressing his fingers to the file on top of Bennet’s, slowly sliding it out of the way, putting Bennet’s file in full view. And as Arthur lifted his fingers up and away from the file he could see the top of a small picture peeking out from the top of the manila file folder. He just couldn’t help himself, and just as Angela had predicted it, Arthur Petrelli found himself pulling the small picture out, slowly revealing to him the face of his granddaughter for the first time.

He knew her instantly, almost taking his breath away – he was struck. And he thought to himself that Angela was wrong, Claire didn’t have his eyes.

“She has Angela’s eyes,” the voice in his head said full of awe as he looked at Claire’s hazel eyes, eyes he suspected looked brown in the moonlight, just like “his Angela.’

And Arthur knew what he always knew deep down, that what he was doing to protect Claire, to save her - was for all the right reasons, even if his actions were not. But looking at his granddaughter’s face for the first time only solidified something deep inside of Arthur Petrelli. For looking into Claire’s eyes and seeing Angela’s eyes looking back at him, Arthur saw the woman he had married long ago and the child she had once been. And it was then that Arthur Petrelli vowed to himself that he would never do to Claire what he had done to Angela. He promised that Claire would never become a Petrelli. And when a Petrelli made a promise, they kept it.

2002

The Petrelli Home

The Waltons they were not. Nathan sat in the middle of his parent’s living room, holding his infant son on his lap as he watched Peter and his father go at it once again.

“Can’t you for once -- can’t you just be happy for me!” Peter shouted to his father, his eyes ablaze - there was no doubt he was a Petrelli.

“You think this is about being happy?!” Arthur bellowed back. “Happiness has nothing to do with it– nothing whatsoever--”

“Well, I do!” Peter shouted over his father’s last words, answering the previous statement.

“Sometimes you have to make the hard choices. Peter!”

The baby son Nathan was carrying in his arms started to cry.

“Heidi?” Nathan handed his son off to his wife and they shared a look. Heidi took both her sons out of the living room.

“We sent you to four years of college and this.. THIS is what you decided to do with your life? This.”

“Can you boys just get a grip!?” Angela insisted in their direction.

“He has a point, Ma” Nathan turned to his brother. “Be a doctor Pete, why a nurse? What are you a woman?”

Peter looked at his brother with a look of huge disappointment. “What is that, what is that suppose to mean?”

‘It’s a joke,” he grinned and stood. “You wanna help people, go to medical school. Join the Peace Corps for a couple of years. I mean come on, Pete – it’s like this close to being a candy-striper .”

Angela gave her son a very unhappy look. Nathan didn’t seem to get why. Nathan walked over to the doorway and leaned on the archway.

Peter wasn’t too happy with Nathan either, as he rolled his head forward and shook it, taking a deep breath. He felt ganged up on.

Arthur came back into it with fighting force. “We only want what’s best for you, for Christ sakes!” He put out both his arms in frustration.

“And what’s that, being a lawyer like Nathan, like you – defending criminals for a living!”

Arthur’s eyes got wild. “Justice is justice, kid. Everyone gets to fight fair, that’s the law, that’s the name of the game. That’s what I fight for. Everyone gets a chance to defend themselves.”

“You’re a criminal for defending criminals.”

“Pete-“ Nathan tried to intervene, but he was talked over.

Arthur was almost in his son’s face. “Hey, kid! – Don’t talk of things you know nothing about. Do you understand the things I have scarified for you --what this family has sacrificed for you! You have no idea what I’ve done for this—!”

“Arthur!” Angela scolded, afraid her husband was about to reveal something he shouldn’t.

“Done for me!?” Peter demanded shoving his hand in his father’s direction. “Done for me? You – it’s all about you. It’s always like this.”

“Peter...” Angela tried to get a word in, but Peter wouldn’t let her.

“No.. No.. I wanna have my say – it’s always about what you think is best for me, what Nathan thinks is best for me - can’t I decide what I think is best for me - can’t I pick my own future? I told you a long time ago, I don’t want to follow in your footsteps, I wanna leave the family business - that doesn’t’ mean I don’t love you. Why can’t you trust me? Trust that I know what I’m doing. Both of you.” He glanced over at Nathan for a moment.

“You do this – it’s not on my dime. Be whatever the hell you want to, I’m just not paying for it.”

“Stop this, both of you! “ Angela looked at Arthur with a stern expression. There was a short moment of silence. Angela looked at her husband and then at Peter, waiting for one of them to make a response.

Peter looked at his father as if his words had hurt him, and they had. “Why do you always have to be so cruel?” Money wasn’t what Peter Petrelli was looking for.

“It’s a cruel world, kid, sometimes we learn to adapt.”

Peter laughed angrily and nodded his head as if it was a sentiment only his father could reiterate. “Well, I don’t believe that.” His eyes were clear.

Arthur looked at his son with all concern and then his eyes went dark and cold. “Yeah, well just wait.”

There was a short silence, while everyone looked at Peter.

Finally, Arthur spoke. “Go ahead, let him throw his life away –it’s not like we haven’t tried to stop him.” He gave Angela an evil look and he turned toward his study.

“Pop.” Nathan called after his father.

“I don’t need your money – I can do it myself. I didn’t come here for your money.” Peter stormed out.

“Peter!” Angela yelled toward Peter. She turned and gave Nathan a stern look.

“Wait, what?” Nathan knew that look.

“Go after your brother. Talk to him, he listens to you.”

“Ma, he wants to be a nurse.” Nathan laughed it off. Nathan’s oldest son, Monty, ran into the room and grabbed a hold of his father’s leg as Peter use to do to Nathan at the same age. “He’ll just grow out of it. Give him time.” Nathan ran his hand through his son’s hair. “It’s a phase. He’ll come around. Don’t worry.”

Angela Petrelli wasn’t happy with that answer. She turned toward the door after her son.

“Peter!?” Angela yelled to her son as she walked out of her front door. “Peter,” she called to him as she stepped away from her door and down the walkway.

Peter watched as his mother approached him. “Mom, there’s no talking to him.”

Angela now stood in front of her son. “I know. It’s okay.”

“I just feel like they both gang up on me like that.”

“Nathan is just being Nathan. Your father has no excuse.” She looked her son over.

“This is what you want to do?”

“I do. I wanna help people.” Peter had that look of sincere sweetness, it wasn’t just that he wore his heart on his sleeve, he wore his soul on his face.

Angela gave her son an off center smile. “Help people?” She ran her hand through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?” she said in her sly tones.

They smiled at each other.

“You know, you’re more like your father than you’ll ever understand, Peter.”

“Him?” Peter looked off toward the house. “I’m nothing like him, “he retorted in his youthful tones.

“Here.” Angela handed Peter a folded up set of twenties.

“What is this?”

“It’s money.”

“I see that.” Peter wouldn’t take the bills from his mother. ” I don’t want his money.” He gestured with his head and shoulders, his hands in his pockets.

“Well, some of it is my money too. And believe me I earned it.”

“I bet you did,” he said jokingly and with a wye smile.

“Don’t be smart,” she scolded.

“It’s still his money, I don’t want it, “ he said sincerely.

Angela set the bills in his front pocket. “You’re going to need some extra cash with your money all tied up in student loans. Books. Women.”

Peter smiled sheepishly.” Thanks, Mom.”

“You will never be a disappointment to me, Peter. Just be safe.” She paused. “That’s all I care about. Don’t give me a reason to worry and I won’t worry. That’s all a mother wants.”

Peter took his mother’s hand and squeezed it.

“I promise.” Peter leaned in and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Bye, Mom.”

And Angela Petrelli watched as her son Peter walked off, down the block and disappeared into the streets of Manhattan. And she worried for her son for other reasons than Nathan or her husband did. And she wished, in that small moment, that she could tell him all her secrets. But Angela Petrelli knew she couldn’t and she knew she wouldn’t. And she knew that no matter what the cost, as long as she lived, Angela Petrelli would do what many mothers would consider unthinkable. Angela just didn’t know what that was yet. She just knew that when the time came she would do what had to be done. For Peter, for Nathan, for the family.

She had seen an empath in the worst condition and she had seen an empath in the best condition. Angela Petrelli just didn’t think her son could handle it, the truth was he could, she couldn’t. And she was only keeping him from his inevitable destiny.

Next Chapter: Carlo’s son manifest. What does that mean for the Petrellis?