Title: Angela

Author: dancingdragon3

Pairing: Sylar/Peter, Angela/Daniel

Genre: AU, action/adventure, slash, romance, hurt/comfort

Rating: NC-17

Length: 20,000 words over all, in four parts.

Contains: erotic asphyxiation, post-sex rimming

Special Guest Star Appearance by: Malcolm McDowell, as Daniel Linderman

Summary: AU season 3.5, volume 4, Fugitives. The action here picks up during Cold Snap. Sylar, Peter, and Luke have teamed up, and with Rebel's help are going to protect special's from the government. It's Angela's turn to be rescued (Hence the guest star. Christine Rose has a crush on him in RL).

Disclaimer: The show Heroes and it's characters are the property of NBC and Tim Kring. No rights infringement intended. The song Radar belongs to Ms. Spears.

Notes: I've added a couple extra days to the timeline between the end of Shades of Gray and the end of Cold Snap. Let's say that Nathan didn't get outed by Danko as quickly as he did, okay? Sylar has all his season 1 powers, plus Meredith's fire, and Doyle's puppet-man power which he took in Dual.

Beta by adahleida

Angela, the love of my life

I need to hear you say it, Arthur

My king, my queen

Did you order Linderman to kill Nathan?

I don't know Daniel, sometimes I worry you're outliving your usefulness

Not my baby

Nathan has to die

Say it Angela

I can heal the scars

I love you Arthur

You have to decide

Do you know what I'm thinking

Do you want to live in blind obedience

Am I gonna kiss you, or am I gonna kill you

Or do you want to know the truth

I'm a monster too

Are you really my mother

Tell me your secrets

I see only my nightmares

I just wanted to feel alive

I gave a love only a mother can give

We were trying to be better than God

I am tired, Noah

She's my mother too, Peter

I have told so many lies

Show them all why you're my favourite

She's the only person who accepted me for what I am

What other secrets are you keeping, Mother?

This is where I belong, in a cage

Oh Gabriel, you don't the half of what you're capable of

Maybe it's not too late to cobble my family back together

You're looking for reassurance, maybe even absolution, but I'm not giving it

Make mommy proud

You pushed me aside

There are other people who want them all dead

They're right to be afraid of us

Yes dear, I've had a bit of experience with all this

I am tired

The things we're going to do

So many lies

Tell me your secrets

I'm a monster too

My family


It's a necessary evil

"Angela. Angela, my dear, wake up now." Angela opened her eyes and stared in wonder at the man standing beside her bed.

Daniel Linderman. Her first, her only true love.

"Daniel, what are you doing here? This isn't possible."

"I'm here to show you what comes next, and to remind you of what's come before. And you should know by now that with us, all things are possible," he responded, pulling aside a heavy, red velvet curtain to reveal a floor to ceiling window.

She looked to where scenes of her life were playing on it. Scenes of them and the others at the Coyote Sands Relocation Center. Her sister. Dr. Suresh. Her parents. Maria, Bobbie, Daniel, and Charles. And later. Meeting Arthur and Samson. Scenes of Arthur taking her memories. Years of lies. So many things stolen. So many other, precious things thrown away.

The pictures finally stopped on the night of their escape from Coyote Sands.

"What do we do in this dream?" A young Charles Deveaux was asking as they sat around the table at that diner.

"Whatever we have to," the younger Angela said, filled with the determination only the young have. Before time showed them just how bad things can be.

"They're right to be afraid of us," Angela watched herself continue. "The things we can do. The things we're going to do to keep this secret safe."

"It's a necessary evil," she whispered along with the girl she had once been.

"Oh Angela, why do you torture yourself like this? It's not as if you set out to be a villain. Everything you - we - did was for self preservation. To protect your family, to protect all of us. And you certainly had your share of harm done to you, over the years." Linderman made a motion with the curtain.

The window began showing more scenes of her and Arthur. Of all the lies he made her believe, and the terrible things he had made her forget. Of her and Daniel. Maria and Samson... and Gabriel.

"Stop this, Daniel. You can show me how many ways Arthur wronged me but it won't do any good. It will never justify my actions. It doesn't change the fact that I became a monster. Arthur made me forget many things, but he didn't make me into what I've become. He didn't set me on this path. I did that all by myself. Me and my... dreams."

"Angie, my dear," Daniel sighed and laid his hand gently upon her cheek. "That is why I'm here to show you a new path. Show you that monsters can change. Even monsters can be forgiven." He kissed her tenderly on the lips, his white beard soft against her face.

He broke the kiss just as gently and stepped back to the curtain to reveal another new scene.

Peter, her sweet Peter stood side by side with Sylar (Gabriel?) and another, younger man. More scenes played of them fighting off the military together. Rescuing people. Of others with abilities gathering with them, fighting with them, cheering them. Cheering them as they kissed.

"That's enough, Daniel."

"My apologies," the older man said, bowing his head and closing the curtain on Peter and Sylar kissing in the rain.

"What are you doing here? You can't be here," Angela cried in frustration.

"Ah my love, don't you remember? Everything we touch we are always touching. When I healed you, I left with you the best part of myself. I will always be with you."

He moved closer and took her face in his hands. "But that doesn't mean that you shouldn't go on living your life," he finished quietly.

"I don't understand."

Daniel smiled softly and kissed her again. It started slow and gentle like before, but soon turned passionate. One of Daniel's hands came up to grip her hair, causing her to moan.

Angela woke abruptly to the quiet dark of her bedroom. She sat up and looked around, her expression saddening as she realized that she was alone and truly awake this time.

Her fingertips grazed her lips as her large, brown eyes roamed around her immaculately furnished bedroom. Taking in all the beautiful, priceless things. Her silk sheeted bed. Empty save for her. Her Renoir. Pictures of her beautiful boys on her nightstand...

And she started to cry.

A little while later her cell phone beeped, announcing a text message. Her dream played in her mind as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone where it lay before the picture of Peter and Nathan.

"Danko has exposed Nathan's power. Help is coming. Rebel," the message read.

She shut the phone and tightened her fist around it. She could feel the walls of her carefully constructed world crumbling around her. For so long, and with so many sacrifices she had built an army of men to protect her. And now, one by one, they were falling.

Angela and Noah, New York City

"I'm resourceful. I can find ways to survive that don't involve Rebel." Angela told Noah. They were seated in the backseat of her limousine on a rainy morning.

"I'm going to leave the city tonight before anything unfortunate happens," she continued, "you've got fifteen minutes to catch the next rail to D.C. Take my umbrella, and Noah - be prepared. Peter... Peter may be trying to find a different solution to this. I wouldn't want you two to get in each other's way again. Don't say I never did anything for you."

"Thanks for the warning. I wouldn't go home if I were you. Don't say I never did anything for you," Noah replied before exiting the car.

Three hours later, Peter, Sylar, and Luke stood on top of a building as Danko's agents followed Angela on the street below.

"They're closing in on her," Peter told Sylar, watching as she entered a building down the block, followed by several of Homeland Security's finest.

"She's in the elevator," Sylar responded, opening his eyes. "This is it." He turned to Peter and Luke.

"Change of plans," Peter said. "I want you to go get her. I'll go with Luke instead."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please." He put his hand on the taller man's chest.

"All right. But she's not gonna come with me."

"Yes, she will. She's not stupid."

Sylar nodded in agreement. "I'll meet you at the rendezvous." He turned and leapt across to the building Angela was cornered in.

Peter watched as Sylar gracefully arched against the cloudy grey sky. His long black coat billowed around him as he landed easily on the other rooftop and strode confidently out of sight. Peter turned to Luke and they exchanged looks of grudging admiration at the display before leaving.

Angela closed her eyes as the lift car shuddered to a halt. She tried the button but the doors wouldn't open, and the car began to descend. After all this time, she was ashamed to be so afraid.

She knew what was going on now in the new and improved Building 26. She would be strapped down, drugged. Who knew for how long. They might never let her wake up.

She tried to calm her increasingly panicked breaths.

This is your punishment, she thought to herself. Your just reward. You were a party in the development of this drug. This control. And you let Bob Bishop use him to get it. Maybe if you had been honest with all of them, none of this would have ever happened.

She could feel the walls of the elevator, like the sins of her past, closing in on her.

Hearing a noise she looked up as the door on the lift's roof opened and Sylar (Gabriel?) dropped down in front of her. She pressed her hands into the wall at her back.

Sylar held his hands down in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "I'm here with Peter. I'll take you to him." He raised a hand slowly and held it out to her.

Angela looked at him, thinking back to her dream and the men chasing her. (Even monsters can change.) The car stopped with a jolt. (Are you really my mother?) Her expression hardened as she made up her mind and pushed off the wall. Oh Mari, I promise I'll make this right, she thought as she stepped forward to take the outstretched hand.

Sylar leaned down and put his other arm around her waist just as the doors opened. They both turned to give the soldiers similar smirks of superiority before ascending through the elevator shaft.

"Put your head down," Sylar said, covering her head with his hand as they burst through the ceiling and then the building's roof beyond.

Angela raised her head after a minute to look at the man holding her. His face was a mask of concentration as they moved between the skyscrapers. He turned to meet her gaze with a questioning one. She returned his look with a sad shake of her head before laying it back down onto his shoulder. She held on tight as they soared through the overcast sky.

They landed a little while later inside Castle Clinton, which Peter and Sylar had known would be closed. Battery Park was always deserted when it rained.

"Mom?" Angela turned to see Peter and the younger man from her dream.

Mother and son embraced.

"I see you've made some new friends," Angela said as she pulled back to run her hand across her son's forehead and into his hair.

Peter smirked and turned to Luke. "I told you she'd start in before she remembered to say thank you," he said.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Thank you." She looked over at Sylar who was slouched against the inner wall with the boy. "Thanks to you both." Her rescuer just shrugged in return.

"So," Peter said, leaving the embrace. "Everybody lost their free passes, huh?"

"Danko pushed Nathan out a window, Peter. What would you have him do, fall to his death to protect me and Claire?"

"Like that would ever happen," he scoffed.

Angela turned to Sylar. "And you Gabriel, I'm sure you have a few stones you'd like to cast my way."

"A few," he agreed. But instead of naming them, he simply continued staring at her.

"So you're the one who pretended to be Sylar's mom?" Luke unexpectedly asked.

Everyone turned disbelieving, and in Sylar's case amused, eyes to the teen.

"What? Is it a secret or something?" Luke asked.

Three pairs of eyes swung back to the woman who was already lost in her memories.

(Are you really my mother?)

(Promise me, Angie. If anything happens to me, you'll take of him.)

(I'm a monster too.)

(I promise, Mari. I wouldn't let anything happen to little Gabriel.)

"...even said I was her favourite," Sylar was saying as she tuned back in.

"You didn't?" Peter exclaimed, turning to his mother. "He's not even your son and you told him that?"

Angela knew she deserved the disgust in his voice.

"Let me guess, she's told you that too?" Sylar asked. "Of course she has. Just like she told that to Nathan whenever she needed his compliance. Buck up toots, I'm pretty sure all parents say that to all their children at one time or another. Right, Angela?" Sylar's gaze challenged hers, which dropped after a moment.

"All parents are manipulators by definition, Peter," he finished grimly.

"Amen to that," Luke said.

Sylar nodded his head in Luke's direction as if to say "from the mouths of babes".

"I'm gonna take a walk. Don't wander off." And with that, Sylar leapt over the wall and out of sight.

Peter watched him leave and sighed. Gabriel was obviously more upset by his mother's deception than Peter had realized. Remembering Gabriel's almost desperate reaction to the blow job from the night before, and considering how open to physical affection he seemed when they were awake... that heart breaking speech he gave their first night together... the way he seemed as driven now to rescue people as he had once been to hunt them down himself...

Peter was rapidly coming to the conclusion that his partner was a man far more troubled, lonely, and complicated than he had originally thought. And that was saying something. He had read the man's file after all.

Peter turned to Luke. "Stay here and protect her in case they find us. We'll be back in a little while." He followed Sylar over the wall.

Angela and Luke exchanged glances.

"I'm Luke by the way," the boy said, holding out his hand.

Angela returned his gesture with a look of mistrust and put her hands in her jacket's pockets.

Luke rolled his eyes and resumed holding up the wall.

Peter found Sylar beyond a flower garden, sitting on a bench facing out to the harbor. His eyes were closed, and his hands were on his knees. It almost looked like he was meditating.

Peter sat down next to him, allowing only a few inches to separate them. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. This was the first time they had had a chance to be alone all day.

Putting thoughts of mothers from his mind, Sylar focused on the young man seated next to him. He still wasn't sure whether Peter remembered the dream from the night before, but at this point, he didn't care one way or another. Luke was right. There was more going on here than loneliness. The previous day's training had proven that. At least he hoped it did, because he could not resist Peter Petrelli anymore. Not after last night.

"Thanks, for not killing my mom."

"The night's not over yet, Peter."

Peter huffed out a small laugh, and grinned crookedly at the erstwhile killer. He bumped up against him affectionately.

"Oh admit it. You like her. You respect anyone who can pull one over on you. Even though you absolutely hate it when someone does."

"You think you know me so well don't you?" He opened one eye to look at the empath.

"I'm getting a handle on it."

"Oh really?" He opened his eyes wide in amusement. "Funny, I haven't noticed you handling anything," he said, leaning back and opening his legs suggestively.

Peter blushed, turning to look out at the lights of the ships in the harbor.

Asshole, he thought.

Sylar narrowed his eyes, deciding.

"You're right. I do like her."


"Angela. Your mother?" he replied, sitting back up.

"Oh, right. Yeah, she has her moments. For the record though, lying to you like that was fucked up."

"Thank you."

Peter nodded.

"She's still better than Arthur."

"No argument here. Hey, did I ever thank you for saving me from him and Mohinder?"

"I don't think you got the chance. Mohinder was kinda busy smashing my head into the floor."

Peter curled his lip in disgust. "Oh yeah. Well, thanks anyway. I guess I owe you my life at least a three times over. And my mom's," he said, thinking back to Level Five, the feel of his mind slicing into her skin. He reached over to put his hand on Gabriel's.

"Seriously." Their eyes met. "Thank you, Gabriel."

"You're welcome, Peter," was the equally serious reply.

Sylar's tongue licked out to moisten dry lips. His eyes dropped, first to Peter's mouth, then to their hands. He turned his over, rubbing his palm and fingers slowly against Peter's. Breath quickening, blinking compulsively, he looked back up to meet the younger man's impossibly wide eyes. He leapt.

"Peter, did you know that when a person touches me I can sense their emotions? Particularly how they feel about me?" Peter's hand dropped away as did his smile.

Oh my god.

"And did you also know that when you used Parkman's power on me that allowed me to copy it?"

Holy shit.

"You've... you've been hearing my thoughts? This whole time?"

Sylar smiled wryly. "Yep," letting his lips pop on the 'P'.

"You... you!" Peter scowled, eyes bulging as he thought furiously.

"Peter, Peter. Such language from such a sweet, young hero. Does your mother know you think like that?"

"Fuck you. Are you telling me that you've known what I've been feeling and thinking about you ever since you rescued me?"

Sylar nodded.

'And... that dream last night?'

Sylar smiled wickedly. His eyebrows raised in glee. He nodded again silently, enjoying Peter's mental chaos.

And he hasn't... 'you haven't... ' "Okaay..." Wow, this is... pretty fucking embarrassing. "So why haven't you said or done anything about it then?" 'At least tell me I'm barking up the wrong tree.' "You know humiliation doesn't really go with this whole partnery vibe thing we're supposed to be having," Peter complained. He didn't realize that he was switching back and forth between speech and telepathy.

The older man shook his head fondly at the emotional display before finally speaking up again.

"One, I am not a tree. And second, there is nothing wrong with our partnery vibe." Sylar leaned in closer until he could breathe in the scent of the nervous man beside him. The man that he could not stop wanting.

"But third, people's actions rarely follow their true desires, Peter." His dark gaze trapped Peter's, and his voice lowered, deepened, causing the other man's heart to speed up.

"I've known what you've been thinking about recently, and I've known... feelings you've had about me for even longer. But that doesn't tell me what you are willing to do. It doesn't tell me if you are willing to act on them. And it also doesn't tell me your motivations. If you really want me... or if you're just scared and lonely and making do."

"Oh. Oh. So you... do..." Peter's question was a whisper as he found himself short of breath.

Moving even closer, Sylar nodded, smiling predatorily.

Peter watched as his partner's eyes roamed across his face settling on his mouth. His own eyes widened. He swallowed. His blood pounded in his ears, deafening him.

God, he's gonna kiss me. Peter didn't know if he was asking for help or permission.

Sylar nodded again, showing teeth. His breath came out like a soft growl.

'You bet your sweet ass I am,' Peter heard in his mind just before hands snapped out to grab his face. For an instant Peter was reminded of a future that would never be, before giving himself over to the present.

Sylar's mouth hesitated a second before contact and then, finally, his lips molded onto Peter's. Perfect. They inhaled. Their lips gently pulsed together once, twice. Exhale. A third time. Inhale. Before separating. Exhale.

"Well, okay then," Peter mumbled before resuming the kiss, opening his mouth to let in Gabriel's tongue. It probed deep and lush into the younger man's mouth, stealing all his breaths.

God, he's good at this, Peter thought, getting déjà vu.

Sylar broke the kiss abruptly, leaning back and frowning.

"I would remember this if we had done it before," he said without conviction.

"After everything we've seen, are you sure about that?"

Sylar's hands stroked Peter's neck as he considered the question. He watched as his thumb caressed the lightly stubbled cheek, captivated by the unfamiliar sensation.

"Honestly, there's not much I am sure of these days," he said thoughtfully. "Except that I really want to kiss you again." His confession was rewarded with a smile.

"Sounds good to me," Peter said.

As his arms came around Gabriel and the embrace deepened, the heavens opened and rain came down in heavy, vertical sheets. He could only clutch at the larger man's back as his senses were overwhelmed. Gabriel held his head like a precious thing. His tongue, dove in over and over again, as hard and wet and relentless as the rain pouring down on them.

Peter had never been so consumed by a kiss. The world narrowed to only them. Their lips. The rain. And click. Peter knew this was one of those moments he hadn't realized he had been waiting for. A moment of destiny.

When the kiss slowed, both men were breathless. They barely separated, panting quietly together. Their noses and lips were still touching, their eyes still closed.

As they calmed down, they pulled apart slowly. Sylar's hands lowered to Peter's shoulders. A moment of awkwardness, and their eyes met. Fear and hope were shyly exchanged. Reassured by what each saw, they shared a small laugh like sigh of relief and happiness.

Together, the new lovers turned their faces up against the downpour, feeling like years of pain and fear were being washed away in moments. Catching each other's gaze again, they smiled and thought in unison, 'I love the rain' .