Participants:
| Scene Title | Sons And Daughters |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | One final journey through time, brings Hiro, Kimiko and Xiulan to the discovery of how it all started… |
| Date | December 31, 2005 |
What does it take, to drive a good person to commit an unthinkable evil?
The clink of glass on glass accompanies the way dimmed lights reflect off of ruby red wine sloshing in long-stemmed crystal. Lounging back against a leather sofa, a dark-haired woman in a black dress rests one arm up on the back of the couch, the other cradling the tall and thin glass in one hand. "To the days of old," her voice is quiet, tired, but gradually taking a relaxed quality to it. Across from her, divided by a black-topped table, a white-haired old man in a suit sits with a matching glass of wine, a broad smile across his lips, blue eyes focused on the woman intently.
When backed into a corner, with no options left, how would we do things any differently?
"Angela," his voice has the quality of sandpaper, with an accent that is difficult to place, "I think the good old days are a bit too foggy for us to really toast to." Outside of the penthouse, through tinted windows, the skyline of New York City looks like it's on multi-colored fire from the pop and flash of fireworks detonating high in the air. Standing tall between the two floor-to-ceiling windows, a grandfather clock reads one minute to midnight.
To protect the future we want, instead of the future we've earned, how far would one person go?
"I don't know, Daniel," Angela regards the wine curiously, eyes half-lidded, a sigh slipping out after that. "Things seemed so much simpler back them, didn't they?" As her focus drifts lazily from the wine over to Daniel Linderman, she fails to notice the dark-haired man dressed in black looming on the balcony overhead, or the two women accompanying Hiro Nakamura.
When push comes to shove, how hard would you push back?
"I've seen something…" She throws those words out before Daniel can answer back, "a dream, just the other day." Her eyes drift shut fully, her taste for wine gone. "There's a darkness coming, Daniel. There's death coming, a shadow so large that I'm terrified of the repercussions." When her eyes open, they're focused entirely on Linderman and the contemplative look on his face.
Would we, could we not go quietly into that dark night?
"What did you see?" He hardly wants to know, from the reluctance in his voice, from the way his eyes fail to meet hers, but instead track his own murky reflection in the red wine. Angela doesn't answer immediately, doesn't want to, may not need to.
Or could we rage against the dying of the light?
"He's an old shadow," Angela whispers, her neck muscles tensing, "and if the world isn't ready — isn't strong enough to stand against him, what I've seen, Daniel." Her focus becomes piercing, her voice wavering in its stead, "the world isn't ready for the shadow of death he represents…"
And make the necessary sacrifices.
The Deveaux Building
December 31st, 2005
New Year's Eve
Hiro stands with his arms crossed, quiet and watchful. He glances significantly at the women with him, clearly thinking one name because of Angela's words. Kazimir Volken. He mouths it without saying it aloud before his eyes go back on Angela and Daniel. When he does whisper he asks, "Remember when they were young?" Kimiko surely would, because she was there. Xiulan probably not.
Man….
Xiulan could -really- stand a glass of wine right about now.
She is, however, making an attempt to pay attention to what is going on. What /is/ going on? The thought is coupled with a sideways glance slanted at Hiro, one brow twitching faintly as she purses her lips and unconciously rubs her thigh. Really? She has no idea what is going on. Not, mind that that is overly surprising. Still, it is a cause of mild chagrine. What she /does/ know is that the woman below is President Petrelli's mother. Mind you, she's a good deal younger here, but it is doubtful that anyone is going offer complaint about appearing younger. Course, the conversation is a bit on the ominous side. More so because… Well, really, Richard -is- a shadow. Course, she couldn't possibly be talking about him. No. More likely that it is the Grand Master of Doom, Arthur Petrelli being discussed below. Or that Nazi monster they saw not so long ago. Course, she doesn't /know/.
She's gotten pretty used to being in the dark, really.
Kimiko can't help but put forth, "Angela's aged very well." Daniel on the other hand, "I can't believe I yanked his ear…" she shakes her head. "It seems unbelievable now. But if Angela sees the coming of Volken, why didn't she do more to stop it?"
"…perhaps she did." whispers Hiro cryptically, frowning.
"What do you propose we do?" Stopping himself from asking more, Daniel occupies his mouth with a sip of wine, brows crease in a look Angela recognizes as frustration. She takes her time, coming up with an answer, because in truth putting rationalizations behind the vagueness of dreams is hard, putting something in motion to change things may simply ensure it happens. It's the battle she's struggled with all her life.
Finally, her answer is clear, if not telling. "The world has to be made aware of us, Daniel." That idea stops him dead in his tracks, blue eyes going wide as he lowers his wife glass and looks up to Angela as if she just asked him to shoot himself in the foot. "The world has to know, they have to be ready, they have to be able to endure."
"Angela." His tone is sharper in response, leaning forward to settle his glass down on the mirror-smooth table's surface. "We have struggled for the last four decades to keep that very thing a secret. You know what happens when people find out about us. The fear the hate. Are you so lost in your own dreams that you forget what happened at Coyote Sands?" Those words burn into her, "Forget what happened to your s— "
"That's enough, Daniel!" She practically throws her glass at the table with the ferocity she slams it down, at the same moment the grandfather clock begins chiming, "Don't you think I've struggled with this? Don't you think for a moment that I forgot everything we lost there!" Standing up, the way Angela's voice projects makes her seem twenty feet tall.
Daniel shrinks back against the sofa, looking up at Angela in silence. "If we don't do this, if we don't step out into the light, then everything we've worked for is gone, Daniel. You, me, this whole world is dead." Her eyes narrow, jaw tense and lips downturned into a frown so sharp it could cut glass, "if we stay the course any longer, Daniel, we are dead. We are all dead."
Angela's outburst stirs Xiulan to rocking slightly on her heels, her weight shifting as she tucks her fingers in the front pockets of her jeans and slants another glance toward the siblings. While a million questions flit through her mind, she gives none of them voice, opting instead to return her gaze to the scene playing out below.
"And so this would be how we find out exactly they decided whatever path they plan to take." murmurs Kimiko. "I wish I'd brought a video camera."
Well it's another puzzle piece, if a small one. Hiro rubs his chin, considering. "What made them decide to do it the way they did it though?" he asks, as much to himself as to his partners.
"I… did have some idea, about how to handle something like this, should it have ever come to it." Daniel's tone indicates he isn't pleased with the idea, but ignoring Angela only tend to make what she's seen, and what she feels worse. "There's— avenues we can take. I think it might be time to find out if we can trust your son with some of our work. A test, we can call it…"
"Peter is too soft-hearted to — " Angela's response is cut off entirely by a wave of Daniel's hand, his eyes falling shut.
"Nathan." It's not what she expected, not in the way she presumes Daniel means, at least. Lingering there in silence, Angela watches Linderman move up from the sofa as well, walking towards the windows that overlook the city of New York. "If we're going to do this, Angela, we have to be able to trust the system that will be bearing down on us. We have to start maneuvering things now to ensure that we do not have a repeat of what happened in 1961." Staring at Angela's reflection in the glass of the window, Linderman's eyes narrow at the fireworks as the chimes stop on twelve. "Happy New Year, in any case…"
So they twist their own son. By plot. Hiro does not take that well. In fact it's a coldness that grips his tone enough to convey in his whisper, "Why do they always do this to their sons?" Really, he should say 'children'. And he wishes he could say he was thinking of 'children', but he's not. He's thinking of another son who was playing a GameBoy and bringing a dead bird to his mother to heal.
"Duty," Xiulan offers in perfunctory tones. It is just the way it is. It is the way it has been since powerful men and women have been having sons. To soften the less then comforting response, Xiulan lightly brushes her finger tips over Hiro's shoulder before turning her gaze back to the pair below.
When footsteps sound in the distance, Angela and Daniel's conversation comes to an abrupt, awkward halt, followed by the doors to the room swinging open slowly. There, in the wide entranceway, stands a tall and broad-shouldered old man with salt and pepper colored hair, dark brows and a warm — if not somewhat confused expression on his face. Arthur Petrelli quietly walks in, loosening the bowtie of the tuxedo he wears. "This isn't exactly the pair I figured would sneak off for a little quiet time during the middle of our party," Arthur notes with a crooked smile, looking somewhat accusingly between Angela and Linderman.
"It was getting a bit… noisy down there." A feigned smile comes from her Angela with some difficulty. "I'm surprised to see you up here, don't you have guests to mingle with? I'm surprised Charles even let you anywhere out of his sight."
Growing silent, Linderman only offers a perfunctory nod to Arthur as he starts to walk away from the window, making a meandering path towards the door. But Arthur, with something of a crooked smile, lays a hand down on Linderman's shoulder with steely eyes. "No, Daniel. I think you'll want to hear my answer too." Practically freezing under Arthur's touch, Linderman looks up to him, and then over to Angela as the dark-haired woman turns around slowly.
"I just got done talking to our sons. Nathan, in particular. He seems to have it in his head, that the DA's office is going to go through with a full-scale investigation of Daniel, here, despite his loving father being the lawyer who'll be taken down with him when this happens. He's got this… hero complex that I think is going to put him in a dangerous position."
Tensing up, Angela looks from Daniel to Arthur and back again, "Well— he'll come around. Peter will— he'll persuade him otherwise, Nathan's always been headstrong, Arthur. I wouldn't worry about him."
"What did you see… in Nathan?" One white brow on Linderman's forehead rises slowly, and Arthur casts his eyes down to his old friend, moving his hand from his shoulder with a frown.
"Trouble," is his only response.
Hiro's expression is one of hard skepticism, and not at Arthur. Or at Angela. Or even at Daniel. It's at Ishi, who obviously is not here. He looks aside to his companions and asks quietly, "Do YOU see anything at all of worth in this man?" Because the implication is clearly that he doesn't.
Kimiko shakes her head quietly. "No," she says softly. "I do not. I hate to say it, but Mother was very wrong about him. The most benevolent of them all - he'll die before any of them. The one who could have influenced them the most."
Personally, Xiulan is of the opinion that they would all be better off if Arthur Petrelli died right here and right now. Sadly, she's fully aware of the fact that Hiro wouldn't let her do that. Course… She could just shoot him in the head and be done with it. She could probably get off a shot before Hiro would think to disarm her. Instead, she regards the younger Arthur curiously, her lips pursing as she considers the man. "Even if I did, which I do not." She admits. "I would say I did not." Her perceptions, of course, being colored by what she knows he will, eventually, do. Mind you -she- thinks they are talking about Arthur. So.
"What do you plan on doing about it?" Linderman's uncertainty comes with a tug to the lapels of his suit jacket, blue eyes focused up on Arthur. But it's Angela who is given the most scrutiny, and when Arthur finally delivers his answer, it's more to her than anyone else. Though, from the tone of his voice, the answer seems like a bitter poison to him as well.
"Shakespeare has taught me, that when the son challenges the father, only one remains standing." Both of Arthur's hands tuck into his pockets with a sigh, "I'll do what I have to do, in order to protect this family, and protect this Company. I'm not going to let Nathan's childish attitude be the ruin of everything we've worked so hard for."
Angela looks as though she may have as well been slapped in the mouth by Arthur's words. Her eyes, wide and distrusting, only turn into something more angered, more vicious as she storms across the room, and does physically what his words did verbally to her. The loud smack of flesh on flesh jerks Arthur's head to the side, his eyes closing and lips pressing together into a firm, flat line. "How dare you. How dare you even consider doing that to our son!"
While Linderman edges away from the husband and wife, Arthur slowly turns his head back to focus on Angela. Lowering his brows, the look of discontent on his face is clear. His expression remains neutral, but then slowly shifts towards disappointment as he speaks. "How dare you be considering what you are with our son?" There's so much venom in Arthur's words, "how dare you toss one side away in order to play favorites with Nathan."
Shocked, Angela's eyes widen, but she makes no more to step away from Arthur. She fiercely, defiantly stands her ground, hands balling into fists at her side. "Stay out of my head!" Her brows lower, teeth clash together, "You have no idea what you're seeing, Arthur! None!"
"I think I've seen enough." Is his cold response, "You're willing to turn Peter into a weapon in order to fulfill whatever agenda it is you have?" Arthur's eyes narrow slowly. "Peter is the one who was born with an ability not Nathan. Peter is the one who has the potential, for as much as he squanders it. Do you have any idea what you're planning would do to him?"
As if on cue, it is a looming shadow in the hall that begins walking into the room. Tall, gaunt, as dark as the suit he wears, bald head reflecting the light of the hall lamps, some glinting off of the necklace he wears that bares the same symbol as Hiro's lost Kensei sword. On seeing the Haitian over Arthur's shoulder, Angela takes one uncertain step back.
"I'm sorry, Angela." There's a slow shake of Arthur's head, "But I can't have you making this any harder for me than it already is. I at least owe Nathan one more talk before I make my decision, but if you warn him…" He turns his back on his wife, motioning for the looming shadow of the Haitian to move into the room. "Come on, Daniel. We don't have to be here for this."
Hiro scowls coldly and holds up a hand in a gesture that assists him concentrate, freezing the goings-on before them. "That's enough. I'm not watching this. I don't care what it's supposed to teach me, all it has left to teach me is that these people are evil, and that I already know." He looks to Xiulan and Kimiko. "I'm tired of this. And I don't think there's much more to see…but I want to hear your thoughts." He looks specifically at Xiulan, since Kimiko already knows he listens to her, "Both of you. Please."
Kimiko takes a breath. "I don't know what was here that we needed to see, other than to know exactly the nature of the man we are dealing with. One willing to sacrifice his own sons. Perhaps we are merely here to learn how ruthless he is…how ruthless they all have become." She shakes her head, her hand absently touching the sword at her side. "Perhaps we could have ended it here, but it would have changed things."
Her gaze on the frozen tableau below, Xiulan draws in a slow breath through her nostrils, dark eyes narrowing as she slants a glance at Arthur's unmoving face. Oh, she would -love- to see him dead, it would save ever so much trouble down the road. Despite that fact, she gives a slow shake of her head, dark hair feathering over her cheek as she turns her attention to regarding Hiro, instead. "I think that we could not use your power to save a good man who deserved to live. It would be a grave injustice to use it to put an end to another man, whether he be a monster or not."
So saying, she glances back down at Arthur and does her level best /not/ change her mind. She does, however, admit, "If I were you? I would put a bullet in his head and call it a day." Fortunately, she is not Hiro and has faith that he will -not- give in to less then heroic urges. So much so, that her expression softens as she sweeps her gaze back to Hiro's face and steps in to lightly touch his cheek. "Heroes don't take the easy route, Hiro. If I learned -one- thing from Magnes, it would have to be that. Besides, who knows what alternate evil is lurking out there in the darkness waiting for the opportunity to take Arthur Petrelli's place."
"…I know." says Hiro, echoing the words of another hero from a bygone age in a universe that never happened in this reality. He looks from Kimiko to Xiulan. "Adam Monroe. Kazimir Volken. At least those two, and there are others. Dr. Ray. Those people from another time who may once have been good men but who are no longer, including a twisted Nathan Petrelli. Logan, if that's even his name." He gestures in a manner of disgust and dismissal at the tableau below them, "This tragedy is just a shadow. Our time is reality, to us. The one thing I'm glad you both got to hear was that Nathan WAS a good man." He looks at Angela, who in the next tics of moments will have a Bad Thing happen to her. "I believe he might still be. Our Nathan, anyway."
Kimiko is pretty much out of things to say, or actions to take. As far as she's concerned, it's her brother's show, and his decision to decide whether or not they wish to go home. There are people to tell certain truths to, and information that they'd best hear.
"I think that Nathan Petrelli is the President of the United States and that, given he is betraying his own kind, it is /highly/ unlikely that there is anything of worth in his heart, Hiro. More likely he has simply become his father's son." He's a turd-monster, plain and simple and there is no way Xiulan will ever believe differently. One cannot have that kind of power and not become tainted, it is /why/ communism consistently fails. "But," she adds matter-of-factly. "It is sweetly endearing that you still have faith in him." Even if it does smack of Magnes.
"What if I told you Nathan Petrelli, sitting in the Oval Office as President of the United States, helped me stage the Moab prison break?" asks Hiro calmly, in the manner of one trying to patiently make a point. He understands Xiulan's words and she is NOT wrong. He looks to Kimiko and says, "The Nathan that took my power for a while was not ours. He was from some future I haven't seen. He was twisted, by this…conspiracy." More gesturing at the scene. "I'm not a sweet person anymore, Xiulan." adds Hiro, though it likely feels like a lie to the women. His next words seem like an impassioned plea, "I don't do sweet since Ando died. I can't afford to be so silly. So when I tell you that there is something good and wholesome within Nathan Petrelli and I feel it in my heart, please for my sake…believe me."
Kimiko looks at Hiro in silence, lips pressed tight in a thin line. Just once, she nods. The plea is more for Xiulan than for herself anyway. Of course she believes her brother. It's her duty to believe him, and trust him.
For a few long moments, Xiulan remains silent, simply regarding Hiro with a calmly assessing gaze. When the moment passes, she offers a single dip of her chin in a nod. "I do not know him, Hiro, there may be something inside that you have seen that the rest of us are blind to." Does she think it is likely? No, not really, but she is, at least, willing to admit that she could be misjudging him. It is on a sigh, that she notes quietly. "Will it help if I say that I -hope- your belief in him is justified?" It really is the best she can do.
Hiro puts fingers to his temple in a mildly exasperated gesture and just…lets out a hushed laugh. It's like Mark Twain said: the secret source of humor is not joy, but sorrow.
"Never mind." adds Hiro, sighing as the bitter noise burns itself out. "You two ready to go home?"
"I am so very ready to go home," Xiulan admits. At this point, she wouldn't even care if Arhtur Petrelli was having tea on her sofa. Well, she /would/ care, but… You know. "We could go directly to my shop?" Gracious, it's probably a mess. "I could make us tea. Or…" Yeah, the tea is likely to be stale about now, really. Sighing she adds, "I really do want to believe your opinion of him." Meh. It's no fun upsetting Hiro. Seriously.
"Wherever you think is best." Kimiko says, almost absently. "I'm ready to return to the present. I confess I am uncertain of what we're supposed to do once we get there, but…I am ready to return." She looks back at Hiro. "You should get your sword back from Monroe. Soon."
"Oh yeah…." remarks Hiro with a predatory look in his eyes. "I should." There's a pause as he nods. "Your place, Xiulan." Then he steps over to put a hand on each woman's shoulder and bring them through time with him.
When confronted with a choice, to let the world pass by you and allow the devil's work to be done…
By now, the briefest sensation of falling that accompanies Hiro's teleportations through time and space has become something Xiulan and Kimiko have adjusted to. The eager blur of the world distorting around them for a split-second before they arrive somewhere — somewhen — else in an instant.
Or to take sin upon yourself, become the devil, to walk the path of best intentions to a better future…
«…in other news today, the body of suspected terrorist Isabelle Ashford was discovered just outside of Long Island City Queens today. Investigators have yet to comment on the connection between Ashford's disappearance and her death, but NYPD-Scout officers and members of the Department of Homeland Security are looking into possible retalliation from violent anti-evolved terrorist group Humanis First.» The quiet noise of a television's evening news is the first sound to welcome the Nakamuras and their extended guest back to the present. Beyond closed windows, the nighttime skyline of New York City looks so distant, just a flickering set of yellow-gold lights and a stream of red and white from the nearby freeway.
Could we make the difficult choice, and become the villain?
«Humanis First has found itself in the news once again thanks to a foiled morning attack on the Brooklyn Public Library,» The world they know, not the illusion of the past that has haunted Hiro and Kimiko for four long months. In their time spent across times shores, they have found out so many things, discovered so many truths, and uncovered so many more questions. «Were it not for the corageous efforts of one man who managed to talk down the leader of the gunmen, this incident likely would have involved more bloodshed. It's on this somber note that we turn our focus to the weather, with Steve Bouchard's forecast coming up, it looks like the sunshine has finally come back to the Big Apple!».
Could we bear the ultimate sin, for a chance at a brighter future. Would we risk everything that we created for this…
But now, home is all that surrounds them. More immediately home for Xiulan, but in a general sense of time and space, a home of sorts to Hiro and Kimiko Nakamura. It has been a long, difficult journey, but now the task that lies ahead of them is not one of discovery, but rather one of action. And that, at least, is a start.
…everything we struggled for…
In the beginning.
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Previously in this storyline… Fin |