Authors Note: Wow, I watched an episode of Heroes last night after missing almost the entire season (Life got in the way, curses) and fell in love with it again. Soooo I got onto and watched the entire season. Personally I don't think I'll make it until April 23. I will die. And so Here's my version of what will happen next. Enjoy! Reviews are greatly appreciated.

The pain was unimaginable. Every cell in his body was screaming for release. His eyes moved down his body, seeing the forks and knives jutting out from him at odd angles like some horrible acupuncture from hell. He closed his eyes, wondering what on earth Sylar was waiting for.

Then the door opened. Mohinder felt a rush of hope, swiftly followed by dread as he heard Peter Petrelli's voice calling. He opened his mouth, letting out a strangled gasp of pain, but no words came to him. Soon from his vantage point on the ceiling he watched Peter enter the room. A few drops of his own blood rained down on the young man's head, and he looked up. Through the haze of pain Mohinder choked out one word.


The next motion was a blur. All Mohinder knew was that barely a second after Peter looked up he was being pinned to the wall by Sylar. Knowing what was going to happen, the scientist closed his eyes, but he could not block out the sounds of Peter's agonized screams. Clenching his teeth, he struggled against the items pinning him to the ceiling, but the movement sent pain ripping through his body, and he fell limp, gasping and barely conscious. There was a ringing in his ears, but he noted that the screaming had silenced, and all hope was lost. Peter was dead, and with him any chance of their survival.

"So, um... where is Peter?"

Angela Petrelli gave the young girl a smile. "He went to find Mr. Suresh. He's a scientist who's been trying to help people with gifts."

Claire nodded, a light of understanding coming into her eyes. "I read his book!" She explained. "Well... kinda. I mainly read the part dealing with... well, me."

Her grandmother (what an incredible notion that was, her grandmother) nodded, but before she could reply the front door was opened, and another voice echoed down the hallway to the living room in which the two were speaking.


Mrs. Petrelli got to her feet. "Your father." She said, sounding not too pleased. "Peter's gone, Nathan, but there's someone else here I think you should meet." She called.

Claire shook her head quickly. Her father - the father who had practically abandoned her without second thought - was not the Petrelli she wanted to see at the moment. Nonetheless Nathan soon appeared in the doorway, looking shocked.

"Mom you... do you know who this is?" He asked.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Nathan. You may have the world convinced you're a saint but I know better."

His eyes narrowed at her, and then looked to Claire, getting almost the exact same, guarded look back. They stared at each other like that for a few moments, Angela standing off to the side, looking not the least bit uncomfortable, and finally Nathan broke the ice.

"So... Why are you here?"

"I was looking for Peter." Claires words were sharp and clipped.

"Oh, how do you know him?"

"He saved my life." Claire explained as if she was speaking to a four year old. For the first time Nathan looked truly interested in what she was saying.

"Are... you the cheerleader?"

Claire put her hands on her hips, and nodded, looking away slightly, growing to hate that title more and more. "Yeah." What the man said next threw her completely.

"So it's your fault he was in that coma."

Claire looked back up at him, shock on her features. "What?" Her voice trembled. "A coma?"

Nathan nodded. "Yeah. For two weeks. He almost died."

Claire glanced around the room quickly, trying to get her head around what she was being told. "Wh... When, and how... my fault?" She sputtered.

"Yeah, he traipsed halfway across the country for you and then collapsed right outside the police station."

"And you're blaming me? Look, I didn't ask him to come, but I am grateful, because otherwise I would be dead!" Claire's voice rose a few pitches. To the side Mrs. Petrelli began to look a bit concerned.

Nathan looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better about it, turning around, his hands running over his slightly stubbled chin. "Dammit... Ma, where is Peter?" He demanded.

"He went out." Mrs. Petrelli said simply.

"Playing hero again, huh?" He got no answer, and shook his head, looking flustered and annoyed. "Well tell me when he gets back cause I need to kill him." He began moving towards the door, when suddenly his cell phone rang. He sighed, and took it out.


Claire rolled her eyes, wishing the man would just leave, watched his face as it changed from bewildered to afraid, then suddenly to angry. "Who the hell is this?" Another pause, and he had become confused again. "Hiro? What are you-?" Yet another, longer pause, and Nathan's face paled. "Alright, alright. Yeah." He flipped the phone closed and turned to look at Angela.

"What is it?" The woman asked. Claire looked quickly back and fourth between them, growing more and more worried.

"It's Peter."