Dislclaimer: I don’t own anything, for the last time! =)

Epilogue

“Encore of Empathy”

The combined funeral for Noah Bennet and Simone Deveaux was held on a Sunday, and lucky enough to have crystalline blue skies. After all the motley crew had been through, the least the deserved was good weather to honor the fallen.

Bennet’s body had never been recovered, but Isaac buried his love in an unused field away from the city. This is where he and the others stood today, a tiny ensemble of those who barely knew the deceased, but recognized the consequences of good intentions. Niki sent Hiro to teleport her son and husband out to New York. Apparently, both DL and Micah were also abnormal in the DNA department, adding on even more to Peter’s archive of abilities.

Matt, Nathan, Peter, Claire and Hiro completed the group, standing in a row to face two cross-shaped stakes in the ground. Isaac spoke before them, giving a eulogy about Simone that he started breaking up in about halfway through. Niki and Hiro wrapped him in a comforting embrace, as Claire felt Peter squeeze her hand.

He looked down at her and softly asked, “You want to say something about your dad?”

“I dunno,” Claire shook her head. “I probably should, but I don’t really know what to say. All my life he was apart of the Company and I’m not sure who he really was.”

“Say what you feel,” Peter advised simply, brushing a lock of her hair back. Claire smiled up at him, and then walked forward to her foster father’s cross.

“Everyone?” she asked timidly, and eight pairs of eyes met her in response. “I just wanted to say this little thing about my dad.”

Claire had everyone’s undivided attention, even Isaac with his bloodshot eyes.

“Well…,” she began. “I think that a lot of you, when you first met him, thought he was a bad man. For a while, I thought he was too. But then he proved that he cared about his family more than anything and I was apart of that family. Even though they adopted me…or really, I was given to him…he took me in and he just…he was my dad. He didn’t care that he and mom didn’t make me; I was still-am still his daughter, and…” Her voice caught in her throat, and Peter felt wetness glistening in the corner of his own eyes while watching Claire try to keep it together. “I just…miss him and hope he’s proud of me.”

Solemn murmurs of agreement came from her small audience and Claire was out of things to say. She stepped away from the makeshift grave marker and walked into Peter’s arms, gratefully accepting the chaste kiss he pressed into her hair. His polo shirt would probably be stained with her silent tears, but Peter didn’t mind. What she needed now was comfort, and he’d be heartless to deny her that.

Niki kneeled in front of Simone’s grave, staring into her compact mirror. Peter frowned slightly upon the sight, but realized what the young blonde was attempting. The notion of seeing Simone again, even through another person, chilled him to the core. How could a killer talk to his victim post-mortem? Talk about awkward.

The medium was successful, however, and within a few seconds, Niki stood up as a new woman. She turned inquisitive eyes onto the crowd, one at a time. A little confused frown at Micah and DL…a slight smile at Hiro…a terse blink at Nathan….and at last, she spotted Peter, on the end, with his head bowed.

“Peter,” she said gently, padding over to him. The man lifted his gaze up to meet hers, and recognized Simone’s expressions on Niki’s face.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words he whispered, and Simone shushed him with a finger against his lips.

“It was a mistake,” she acknowledged. “I’m not mad at you.”

Peter nearly exhaled as one giant chip was finally lifted from his shoulders. All the forgiveness from others, all the forgiveness from himself…it helped, but the one person he needed to hear it from was Simone. Now that the fire was extinguished, he felt lighter, happier, more like his old self almost instantly.

“I did love you,” Simone continued, stroking his face fondly. Though Peter knew it was his former flame, seeing Niki in front of him, telling him these things was still a little odd. “But it never would have worked, and though I’m thankful for what we shared, I’m glad we’ve both moved on to better things.” She beamed down at Claire, and the cheerleader finally felt a little bit of acceptance for the departed art dealer.

Simone left Peter, and then arrived at Nathan, the next familiar person in line. “I’ve been watching you too. Congratulations on the election.” Nathan shrugged politely and accepted her courteous handshake.  

Isaac was in for a shock when Niki gracefully slid her arms around his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. DL beat the world record for how far somebody’s eyebrows can stretch up their forehead, and he uncomfortably looked away. Matt glanced huffily at Peter from over Claire’s head.

“Lucky bastard,” he muttered, prompting a grin from Peter.

Simone-as-Niki pulled away from the painter, clutching his face as Isaac buried his hands in her hair.

“Simone,” he choked, gritting his teeth to fight back the tears.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” she replied, stroking his mane of unruly brown hair. “If you ever need anything, I’ll be there, okay?”

Swallowing hard, Isaac’ nodded, his eyes still tightly closed. Seeing Niki there, rather then Simone, would only ruin the magic.

After kissing him once more, Simone drew away to go stand by her own wooden cross. Isaac had scrawled Simone Deveaux across it in his comic-book handwriting, eliciting one last smile from the spirit before she let Niki return.

The mother starting weeping before Simone’s cross, and DL crossed over to her, cupping her cheeks.

“Niki?”

She looked upon her husband through vision blurred with tears. “I heard every word.”

Xoxoxoxoxo

The funeral ended with hugs and goodbyes, for it was time for the parting of the ways. Matt had a wife and unborn baby to attend to in L.A, while Niki and her family were off to Vegas to start a new, debt-free life. Nathan’s new career called for a move to Washington, D.C, and Hiro, personally, was less then excited about returning to Japan and his desk job at Yamagato Industries. But it’s not like they could be superheroes forever. Real life had to rear its ugly head at some time, and that time had come.

However, Peter remembered that he still had one last heroic act to offer.

After Matt nearly broke Niki’s back in a bear hug, Peter approached them. He touched her lightly on the shoulder and cocked his head to imply that he wanted to talk to her alone.

“Listen, I know I talked to you last week about the cure, right?” he started, walking along a grassy path with her. Niki stopped him, and looked him in the face seriously.

“I watched the press conference. They said they found one.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I gave Mohinder my DNA sample so he could finally get it made, under one condition. And was that was…that you would be its first receiver. You said Jessica was ruining your life, so I figured that you needed it the most.”

“I know what I said,” Niki replied slowly. “But I think...I don’t mind it so much anymore. Jessica’s gone now, and…to be able to do for you guys what happened today at the funeral…I want to be able to help people like that. So...”

Peter thought about her words silently and Niki mistook it for offense.

“I mean, thank you so much for the offer, but…” She took a deep breath. “It’s just not what I want anymore.”

“No problem,” Peter replied after a beat, smiling a little. “I think I can find someone that will take it.”

*

Peter found the invisible man at Columbus Park, feeding pigeons. He approached the park bench from behind, surprising Claude when he plopped down on the wooden seat.

“You didn’t come to the funerals today,” he noted, watching the little pieces of stale bread fall from Claude’s fingers to the birds. The mentor shrugged glumly.

“I hate the things,” he replied gruffly. “They’re depressing as all hell.”

Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, since you weren’t there, you missed me talking to Niki. She turned down the cure.”

Claude finally looked at him. “So what now? Gonna give it to your bro?”

“Nah,” Peter shook his head, a crafty grin showing his straight teeth. “He wouldn’t want it either. See, I had this idea after I dropped by Mohinder’s to pick up the actual treatment.”

He reached into his worn messenger bag and pulled out an injection full of yellow liquid.

“I thought you might want it.”

“Me?” Claude scoffed, and arched an eyebrow. “And why would I want it? I couldn’t steal stuff and is that thing even tested? I could turn inside out and explode for all you know!”

“Stop trying to talk yourself out of it,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I know this is what you really want. You’ve wanted to be visible for sixteen years. And Claire’s dad is dead now…she needs a father in her life. You said that the reason you couldn’t be there for her all those years was because of the invisibility. But you can be seen now!”

He thrust the shot into Claude’s palm and pointed to the underside of his elbow. “Right here; inject it slowly. Mohinder said the results might be a little jolting at first as your molecules change, but it’s only for a bit.”

Claude stared at the syringe blankly, as if he couldn’t decide whether it was filled with marshmallows or rust. Both men said nothing through the thick tension, and Peter shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Just think about it okay?” he pleaded quietly. “Claire’s birthday was last week too, if you need any more motivation.”

Claude’s expression didn’t change, but he did pocket the injection like Peter wanted. The offer was tempting, but could he really walk back into the real world after sixteen years of absence? The practical things aside, Claude had no real friends, no job or possessions, not a lot of money, and no set living arrangements.

But you get all of those things if you went visible…

“You know where we’re staying if you want to get in touch or something…”

Peter moistened his lips and then walked away uneasily. He could have made the biggest mistake of his life. Claude, the poor bum, could hawk the cure for thousands, or the treatment could have some sort of flaw that would kill the British man. Out of thousands of worst case scenarios, there was only one good result they were aiming for. Judging the odds made them seem dangerous and real.

Peter tried to think about how professional and trustworthy Mohinder was, instead.

xoxoxoxoxo

With their shattered bedroom window, Peter and Claire couldn’t exactly return to their apartment. So, while it was getting repaired, they crashed at a room in The Liberty Inn. The familiar hotel reminded Claire of how far she’d come. Claire started her journey in this very complex, with the cute bell boy named Frankie and a search for Lewis Rushton.

The day after the funeral, both of them lay naked and tangled in cool bed sheets, the early sun beaming through the blinds.

“You know, morning sex was even better then I thought it would be,” she grinned down at Peter. He flipped them over, pinning her down playfully, and using the opportunity to kiss every inch of skin he could access. Claire squealed and fought back against his loose hold, getting free enough to bring his lips from her shoulder to her own mouth.

He slowed almost instantly, relaxing his grip and slipping his hands down to caress her curves. She moaned against his mouth, running her fingers through his messy hair. Peter pulled back suddenly, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Claire…I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but…”

He rolled over, lying flat on his back, and Claire sat upright in the bed. Concern distorted her pretty features and she rested a gentle hand on Peter’s arm.

“What is it? You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of superficial and weird.”

“I was a cheerleader; I think I’ll understand superficial.”

He smiled slightly, before remembering what he wanted to inquire. “You’d love me no matter what I look like, right?”

Claire bit her lip. “You’re not a 500-lb old guy with leprosy disguising your true looks, are you?”

Peter snorted. “No. Besides, if I could look anyway I wanted, I’d make myself into Brad Pitt.”

“Brad Pitt’s ugly.”

“Fine. Some other really good looking celebrity you like.”

Claire mused. “Hugh Jackman. But remember, Sylar stole those shapeshifting abilities from someone and I bet you absorbed them.”

Peter sighed melodramatically. “I guess this means you’re gonna force me to look like Hugh Jackman whenever I’m with you from now on?”

“I love you the way you look now,” she replied shyly, kissing him on the corner of the mouth. “But if you don’t really look like Homer Simpson, what do you mean? It’s not like you can ever get wrinkles, or disfigured or anything.”

“That’s sort of what I was talking about,” Peter admitted, getting up from the bed and putting on a white bathrobe that was slung over the firm hotel chair. “If I was scarred…”

Dread started to flare up in the pit of Claire’s stomach. “Peter…what are you doing?”

He ignored her and stepped into the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Claire grabbed a robe as well, and followed him into the lavatory.

“Remember my dream, where I saw Sylar as my reflection?” he inquired, and she nodded immediately. Peter continued his vague explanation.

“I used to be so afraid of that. Sylar in the mirror.”

He raised a finger so it was above his left eyebrow, and then brought his hand straight down. A red cut created from Sylar’s maiden power of telekinesis shone from Peter’s forehead to side of his chin.

“Peter!” Claire screeched, whipping him around to face her. “What, are you gonna go all emo on me now? Heal that!”

He turned back to his likeness on the other side of the glass, turning his face to view the scratch better. Blood was pouring from it, but Peter looked past that, concentrated on the wound itself. He slowly knitted the skin back together, drawing the thin lines of blood back into his body. But as soon as the cut stopped bleeding, he discontinued the healing. Rather then a smooth strip of skin on his face like it should have been, a white sliver of scar tissue sliced down from his forehead and across his left cheek.

Peter turned back to Claire. “But it’s different now. I want to see Sylar every time I look in the mirror. I want to remember all the things I’ve done, so none of it ever happens again. Sylar and me were a lot alike, I think. He just didn’t have someone like you to save him from himself.”

Claire gave him a ‘have-it-your-way’ sort of look, before wiping off the little bit of blood that was still splashed on his cheek.

“Do you think it’ll hurt when danger’s coming, like Harry Potter?” she asked sarcastically, running a smooth finger down the length of said scar. Peter almost smirked.

“Let’s hope it’ll be a while before we find out.”

He bent down to kiss her, but a loud rap on the door diverted his attention. Claire moved to answer it, but he stopped her.

“After what happened at my apartment, maybe I should answer the doors from now on.”

“You’re so overprotective,” Claire sulked. Peter finished the kiss he planned on giving her as a peace offering.

“I’m your hero. What do you expect?”

He moseyed out of the bathroom and checked the peephole. To his surprise, Claude stood in the hotel hallway, beard shaven and tawny hair neatly combed. Frowning in total bafflement, Peter opened the door and invited him in.

“Claude? I didn’t know there was a man under all that hair,” he ribbed, closing the door behind him.

Claude wore nothing more formal then Peter’s daily attire. Just a white dress shirt with nice khaki slacks, with, most notably, a totally clean-shaven face. His usually wispy bangs were side swept and gelled, giving him a sleek, younger look. Claude looked about ten years younger, and proved to be quite a handsome man.

Claire poked her head out of the restroom, eyes widening. “Are you…Claude, are you visible?”

A small, genuine smile crossed Claude’s features. “I ein’t touching you, am I?”

“Oh my God!” she cried, closing the gap between them with her arms around his waist. He chuckled, and courteously pushed her away.

“You look great! Where’d you get all of this stuff?” she rambled, gesturing to his new clothes.

Claude shrugged. “A little place called Ralph Lauren. I made one last theft before taking the cure your loverboy gave me. I’ve got enough money to last me and you for quite a while.”

“Until you have to get a job,” replied Peter bluntly.

“You gave him the cure?” Claire cut him off incredulously. Peter said ‘yes’ nonchalantly, and now he was feeling the full force of a Claire-Bear Hug.

“What’s that on your face?” Claude squinted, and pointed to the scar. “That wasn’t there yesterday.” His eyes dropped down to their matching bathrobes and he winced. “And you’re shagging my daughter now, too. Fantastic. At least tell me the former and the latter have nothing to do with each other.”

Peter put and arm around Claire protectively. “They don’t. The scar is just a reminder for me. As far as the shagging goes…”

Claude pointed a finger so close to Peter’s nose, that the young man went cross-eyed. “She gets pregnant and you’re marrying her, savvy?”

“I get it, Captain Jack,” Peter said innocently, prompting Claude to glare back. Claire, meanwhile, was reddening furiously at the thought of Peter getting her pregnant. Even still, a pleasurable squirm followed the blush. Fantasies whipped through her mind of her in a gorgeous white dress, walking down the church aisle on Claude’s arm to meet Peter at the end. Them married, newlyweds, expecting a baby, with children, growing old together without aging a day…

It all seemed so natural and right for her to elope with him and start a beautiful family. Of course, with the way fate worked for them, their eldest son would probably have a destiny of savior of the universe, or The Slayer, or the one that will bring balance to the Force. Plus, at age eighteen, Claire wasn’t exactly ready for that sort of thing, but eventually…

I know what you’re thinking about, a familiar voice said in her head. She set her embarrassed green eyes on Peter, who looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow and a smile. I personally think he’ll end up being the Slayer. We haven’t dealt with vampires yet. Could be cool.

Or it could be a daughter, you know. That would be way cooler if she was all kick-ass and stuff.

Yeah. But we’d have to keep her away from the leather stores, because I really don’t want to be Peter the Overprotective Daddy.

Hypocrite.

Well, I never said anything about not being the Overprotective Husband.

Please tell me that wasn’t a proposal. You didn’t just propose like that did you?

Peter shrugged and winked at her. You’ll know when I do.

Claude gave them a funny look, for he’d been totally out of the mental conversation, as Claire bit her lip giddily and snuggled against Peter even closer. One of Peter’s last thoughts to her kept replaying over and over in her head like a stuck record.

When.

Fin.

*

And that's it! I'd like to thank ALL of my reviewers oh-so much for their support because honestly, without you guys, I would have given up on this story long ago. But you were my rock and my motivation, and I really hope you tag along with my next endeavors!

Speaking of which, I've already got new stuff in the works =) I may put up a novella, only 5 chapters or so, called The Remedy of Kin throughout the rest of July. Depends on my boredness and ambition.

However, I'm already deep into the outline for the next, all new 'epic', I guess you could say. Probably to be named Partial Eclipse. It's sort of under wraps right now (my BFF is begging me for details, and I usually tell her everything, but this time, it's totally confidential, heh), so I can't tell you much, but I WILL say it's six years after season one, in a future that we've never seen before. Like, Sylar and Peter live together and stuff. It sounds like a crackfic now, but I promise, there's a reason for everything, and I plan on keeping it as canon and in-character as possible (with the exception of Paire, which will START canon, but I'll worm out of it as most do *wink*)

And before I get any questions, NO, I’m not planning on writing a sequel for The Dark Sentinel. This has run it’s life, I believe, and the only way I could really make a sequel is if I have an idea for an epic that would just happen to fit in with the TDS universe as well.

Thank you, again, everyone, and I’ll be seeing you soon!

-rtwofan