@electricelle, @eafoot
Nathan was dead.Â
All it had taken was her walking away, caught up in her internal chaos. Her mind was a bitter mesh of questions and blame. Peter had killed those innocent people, Sylar was at fault for the explosion.Â
And the kid, she--
Sylar should have stopped, but like the monster he was, he had made sure there was nothing to bring back. It was what it was. Nathan: she took blame for, he had tried to fill a void, but they were at best only business partners. Familiar in making impossible choices in the external blood in this world. She had thought she had been done with all this when her real parents had died, but....
She was hurting.Â
Hurting, and all the while, waiting. Arthur was angry. That boy was his legacy. For a moment, she hadn’t understood which: Nathan or Noah. It was all a wire trap of confusion but it didn’t seem like the distinction mattered. Arthur was immortal now and he had forgotten to preserve his legacy.Â
With these deaths, now he was reminded and he blamed her. She didn’t care. She was just waiting for a few things to happen. She knew it was coming. She sat in her (room), blade in her hand.Â
Peter was locked up, raving. It would be cruel to wake him up, make him realize what he had done. This stranger in a strange land. The joke was that it wasn’t really Peter, not the one she had become to know.Â
It would be cruel to bring him back to cognitive thought but she fully intended to do so. She was just waiting for this night to be over, the mourning over the innocents lost in the blast....
Was just out of reach.Â














