Heroes Fic: A Capable Woman 14/28 - Claude, Angela, Arthur, Bob, The Young Haitian

(Fanfiction.net Account)

Chapter: Chapter 14 (14/28)
Characters/Pairings (This chapter): Angela, Arthur, Claude, Bob , The Young Haitian, Cameos HRG & Young Elle (please list all characters if linking) Major talk of Peter
Summary: We are not all born full of sin, we acquire it over time.
Chapter 12 Summary: "The way children are treated here is inhuman."
Category: General (with a splash of tragic love)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: PG-13 (for adult themes) (this chapter is PG)
Spoiler alert: The entire series
Note: Each chapter is written as one whole, separate, story and be viewed as such. Together they are a life. (For explanation of the entire series see prologue post)

Chapter Fourteen

(Claude, Angela/Arthur, (Young) The Haitian, Bob and a cameo by (Young) Elle & HRG

The Petrelli Home

Manhattan

1992

Angela aggressively pulled open the two doors to her large bedroom closet on a mission. She eyed the boxes of shoes and racks of designer clothing, scanning the drawers and the shelves, looking for something specific. Her gaze finally found it - a large box on the bottom of the closet, hidden by a few purses and a photo album. Angela reached down and pulled out the large heavy box. Leaving it where it landed, she knelt down on the floor next to the box with a large release of air.

She tore open the box’s lid. It was filled with stacks and stacks of old books. Mostly paperbacks, one or two hardcovers. The kind one finds in used bookstores and garage sales - yellowed and with the corners flaked off. Some so old they had those old green edges found on old paperbacks from the 1970s. All the books had one thing in common and that was their subject: dreams.

“There must be something I’m missing,” Angela muttered to herself as she tore through the pages of the books, reading and searching like a mad woman.

Arthur heard the racket from the hallway and entered the room. He walked around their bed until he finally caught sight of Angela on the ground in front of the open closet – books everywhere.

“What is going on here?” he exclaimed.

“There’s something I’m missing. Some metaphor I don’t know, some representation I’ve forgotten...” Angela was nose deep in a large faded hardcover.

“Angela, you memorized these books years ago, what’s gotten into you?”

“He’s always dead, Arthur...” Her voice was low and strong with a tinge of emotion. “In all the dreams. Dead.” Her voice was deep in her throat on the word dead. “At different times, different ways, but he’s always dead.” She sucked in her tears and threw the book in her hand to the ground, looking around for another book to replace it.

Arthur knelt down next to her, taking her gently by the arms, to take her attention away from the books. “You almost never dream in metaphors anymore, Angela. Not in years, we’ve learned that.” Arthur was actually kind with her. He wasn’t demanding or shouting, he was actually sweetly talking to her; he was just telling her the truth.

“No, no. It must be something else.” Her voice was filled with the tears from her eyes. She was with Arthur, her emotions could flow more easily than when she was in the presence of others who were not her family; Arthur she trusted.

“What can he do, Angela? Maybe it has something to do with what he can do? What do you see him doing?”

“That’s just it.” She looked into his brown eyes. “I see him flying -- seeing the future, I see him time traveling and sending things through the air.” She swallowed hard. “Every night it’s like something new. That’s why I was so confused, unsure, at first...but now I think I know.” Angela was now facing what she was afraid of. The denial that had sent her to the books in the first place.

“He’s an empath?” Arthur asked agog; he knew how rare that was.

Angela nodded her head almost on the verge of tears. “I think so.”

Primatech Research

Hartsdale, NY

Angela Petrelli sat in Bob’s office, impatiently waiting. The office had once belonged to Kaito, but it now belong to one Robert Bishop. Bob had succeeded Kaito in the office, about ten years before, when Kaito had backed off from his duties, deciding to spend more time in Japan with his own business and his new family. Kaito was still a higher ranking founder next to Bob, but Bob was promoted and moved into Kaito’s office just the same. It brought Bob Bishop more responsibility, yet not as much as Kaito had when he occupied the same office. Bob reported to Linderman, Arthur and Kaito. Bob ran the day-to-day activities at Primatech, but he did not make large decisions, although he wanted to, and everyone knew it.

Angela checked her watch and grew weary of sitting. Standing, so she could stretch her legs, Angela made her way around the office. She took in the light beige file boxes stacked so neatly on rows of shelves. Each one with a different name, a different founder and their family. She didn’t mean to, but Angela’s eyes caught sight of her own name, set out in five file boxes that she knew one day would grow to at least seven. She ran her leather-gloved finger along the fronts of them, gliding it along to the end - it wasn’t playful, it wasn’t whimsical, it was with disgust.

“I keep telling myself I should put it all on disk...” Bob’s voice entered the room.

Angela turned to look at him in the doorway.

“Maybe when I have more time I’ll start with the smaller volumes.” Bob walked into the room. “You know, you can look at them. They are yours.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I know what’s in them. What’s the point?” She put her hands in front of her and held onto her fingers.

“I understand you want a tour. I have the perfect person.” Bob smiled oddly and took a breath.

Claude took Angela through the hallways of Primatech, as they reached the end of their tour.

“I’m usually out of the Odessa office–“ He spoke in his Manchester accent. “So you’ll excuse me, if I don’t fully know my way around.” His eyes scanned the doors as they passed, as if looking for one in particular. “My partner and I– we’re here on Company business.” They reached a room and Claude looked at a small name plate next to it. “You wanted to see the empath, right?”

Angela nodded her head. Claude opened the door with a loud rattle. He offered his hand forward for Angela to enter first and she did.

Bob had been too busy to take Angela around, which was fine by her, not that Angela needed anyone to show her around Primatech. But the kind of knowledge Angela was looking for wasn’t anything she knew about firsthand: the bag and tag. Angela was looking for knowledge that couldn’t be found in files or second hand accounts.

“Empaths are an interesting lot.” Claude entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Rare. Very rare. I think we’ve come across three I believe -well, you know don’t ya --I don’t have to tell you, do I? But, I guess you’ve never seen one under glass before, have ya?” Claude flipped a switch and the large window in front of them illuminated.

Angela was shocked to see a young boy, about seventeen, sitting alone on a bench. He looked cold and small, gaunt and weak. He reminded her of her son, he reminded her of Peter.

“He’s so young...” Angela almost questioned.

“Yeah, well I guess you’ve kinda stumbled onto the young lads and ladies ward here. Not on purpose, it just sorta – ended up that way, I guess. Who happens to come in, who happens to come out.”

Angela walked along the glass to the other side of the room to take a better look. The boy laid down and set his head on the bench, he looked like he needed it.

Claude watched Mrs. Petrelli for a moment and then finished his talk. “We’ve been trying to see how much he can take. Paradin’ him in front of every Tom, Dick and Harriet with an ability. He’s absorbed more than any empaths on record.”

“What does it do to the body?” she questioned with all seriousness.

“What you’d expect. It’s hell. Not to mention, unlike with one ability, the brain is trying to deal with so many at a time it can’t focus, it dances around like a magpie – it has to be controlled and worked on-- before even one ability can be used to the same extent as the benefactor it came from. Otherwise, its just a parlor trick, a reflex. Some come easier though, and outshine the others. Still -- ‘Jack of all trades, master of none’,” he joked. “We exposed this one to so many abilities at once he went into a coma for two months, almost died, his heart couldn’t take it. The other one we had, died early on; it was too much for ‘um. This one we exposed to someone with cellular regeneration – he’s also the only one of those we got here, someone in the basement. Adam, something or other –and still this one’s brain is degrading...”

The emotions churning in Angela’s stomach, as she listened to Claude, crept slowly up her forearms like a cockroach. But, Angela would not let her emotions get the better of her. She would not show weakness. Not in front of this stranger, not in front of this Company, not now; she would not give her secrets away. This boy lying on that slab was just an example of what Angela Petrelli and her husband had passed down to their child - an amalgam of everything she feared. It was taking all of Angela’s strength not to lose her composure and crumble into nothingness, but Angela did what she did best, she fought it. For the first time outside of her own body, Angela saw her youngest son’s future laid out in front of her like a road map - a road map she would find a way to stop.

Claude pointed to the boy behind the glass. “Our doctors suspect at some point it will degrade his entire ability... and with out empathy he’ll lose the cellular regeneration and just die. It’s sad really.” He looked at Angela for a response, but she continued to hold it well. “That makes only two out of the three we know about surviving–“

“Can he...?” she asked concerned.

“The proximity you mean? Can he absorb your ability from here? Unlikely. But, who knows. Some of the powers we had to tell ‘um he had. I guess if you don’t know your left arm is there– how would you know how to use it? Of course someone with your power, who knows? One day he could be fine and then the next day like a switch, “ Claude snapped his fingers, “ He could be walkin’ up telling ‘us who’s gonna win the next five Super Bowls.”

“What if he wasn’t exposed to so many abilities while he was here, then what?”

“I suspect he’d be home playing video games and chattin’ up some girls at the local football game – never the wiser he had an ability in the first place. “ He leaned his back against the glass and folded his arms. “If an empath never meets another person with an ability, was he ever an empath at all?” Claude remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Do you want to see what he can do? We can do a little show. Show you his wares?” Again, Claude looked at Angela ready to gauge her thoughts: what impression had been made on her.

“No.” Angela swallowed hard, but gave little response. “I’ve seen enough.” She turned for the door and left the room.

Angela exited the room into the hallway and noticed a large window in front of her. She slowly approached it. Through the glass and below her, Angela could see another cell, only bigger and with equipment on its outskirts. As she approached she could see a few men in white lab coats, now seeing the full length of the room. It was then that she noticed a young, blonde, girl, about eight, or seven perhaps, sitting in a chair. The child was strapped down and had a glazed-over look on her face. In the corner of the room stood Bob and a man who would one day wear horn rimmed glasses.

“That’s Bob’s daughter?” Angela questioned. “Elle.” She thought she recognized the girl.

“Yeah, the boss’s kid. Not immune to the confines of this place. I mean if it’s an ability worth testing... why not test it – why not use it to one’s advantage, right? “

Again, Claude tried to gauge Angela’s reaction, but it was hard. She was after all a woman of steel now, no longer the girl who would let people use her secrets against her.

“What can she do?” Angela questioned.

“She’s electric. Could power a whole city block, if need be.”

“She looks tired.” It was a statement that came out like a question.

“Pushing people past their full capacity is the only way to show their full potential’.” Claude looked at Angela... “I’m only quoting your own husband.” He looked back at the window. “Nothing but the best for daddy’s little girl.” His tones were growing more and more sarcastic.

Claude and Angela watched as one of the men in the white coats twisted a dial and the girl started to shake and vibrate with electricity.

Angela jumped, but caught herself. Claude saw it.

“I’ve seen enough.” Angela turned and walked away from Claude at a determined pace. “It’s inhuman the way children are treated around here,” Angela demanded harshly as she put her gloves back on to leave.

“It’s inhuman the way people are treated around here,” Claude said as an aside, his hands in his pockets, never moving from his spot against the window.

Angela slowly turned toward him with a strong-willed look on her face. “This world is filled with horrible, lecherous people. Murderers, rapists, arsonists, mad men. Under every rock and behind every corner. Dangerous and powerful people. Killers. We keep these people from roaming the world. Destroying it. Someone has to be there to police the unpoliced.“ She walked closer to him and stopped. “What this Company does... is a service. A service people, if they knew... they would thank us for. I am thankful this Company is here to protect my family. As should you. “

Claude slowly walked toward her as he spoke.“ And who are you to choose who lives and who dies? Who’s good and who’s bad?” He was face-to-face with her now. “ Who am I...you... to persecute our own people, our own kind for something they haven’t even done yet or knew they were capable of? Who are we to judge?”

“You do not have the luxury to speak to me like this,” she arched her eyebrow at him.

“Don’t I?” he leaned in and whispered ominously in her ear. “You see, I know your secrets. I know everyone’s secrets. I’m that fly on the wall.“ He grinned at her and continued talking softly “And this place. It’s a brothel wrapped in barbed wire. A necessary evil, a force of good encased in the oozing puss of hypocrisy. But, you can change that. Take a stand. Do something.” He slowly pulled away from her ear. “And not just in the name of your own family,” he whispered in her face with all the confidence one gets from knowing the secrets of others. “Think about somebody else’s children… and grandchildren for a change” Claude watched as Angela didn’t flinch once at his words, yet her eyes gave her away. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your secrets. They’re not worth my time. Or my soul.” Claude smirked and walked off. “I am sorry, Mrs. Petrelli,” he spoke in his full voice, “But I have to go meet up with my partner. “ Claude grinded his large smile. “Get back to Texas.” He stared her down. “You get to Texas...much... Mrs. Petrelli?”

She looked at him without a hair out of place and said sternly, “I don’t.”

“Of course.” Claude nodded his head looking at her with an all- knowing eye. “Of course you don’t.” He grinned large. “I must have been mistaken.” Claude walked to the other end of the hallway. “And good luck with that whole exploding man thing,” he said sarcastically. Just another thing Claude shouldn’t have known about, but did. He turned and looked at her one more time. “I’ll keep an eye out myself.” And Claude disappeared into the landscape of the building.

Angela furrowed her brow, turned toward the exit, and started for the door at a very quick and angry pace; she was getting out of there.

Bob came up the hallway behind her. “Angela!” he shouted to her, as he walked to catch up with her. “Whoa, wait...” he laughed it off, as if it were just another day at the office. “What’s the hurry? Hold on, I’m just about done here, we’re doing some experiments...”

“Experiments? This is what you do with our money. You use children as your lab experiments?”

“Ahh...?” He cocked his head to one side. “A child’s age does not determine how dangerous they are.” His eyes got dark. “You yourself manifested at seventeen,” he reminded her pointedly.

“I was sixteen and I wasn’t dangerous. At least not to anyone but myself.”

“So, we agree danger has nothing to do with age, then?” He had that look of all-knowing smugness. “We can’t treat any of them differently, we have to be objective – ‘cut out our heart’ ... for the greater good, Angela.” He spoke his last two lines as if quoting someone; he was, he was quoting them all.

Angela narrowed her eyes at him. “And that includes using your own daughter?”

“Now, what I do with my own daughter, that’s none of your business. Elle needs to know what she’s capable of, so she’s not a danger to herself and toothers. This isn’t anything I need to remind you of.”

“I’m bringing this up with the other founders.”

“Go ahead. But, I won’t let you put your nose into the way I raise my daughter, Angela. That, you don’t get a say over. She’s my daughter and it’s really, to be honest... frankly, as I’ve already stated, is...none of your business.” He gave her a pointed glare. “I don’t meddle with the way you raise your children, I think I deserve the same courtesy. “ He paused for a moment. “What we do protects the world from evil, Angela. We protect the world from people who want to do it harm and yes... even if they don’t mean to. That means we have to make sacrifices. And we all have made sacrifices.” He looked at her in a way that reminded Angela she had known him too long.

“I understand what we do is necessary.” Angela said softly and to the point, as if Bob had offended her, and she left his side for the exit. She hadn’t gotten far when Bob called to her, making her stop in her tracks.

“Still no dreams about what those boys of yours can do, huh? Pity. But, hey – Arthur didn’t manifest until he was in his late twenties, right?” He paused. “There still may be some hope for your boys yet.”

Angela didn’t let his words buck her as she walked away from Bob with a quick and graceful gait.

Just then a loud noise went off, like an alarm, or a European siren.

“He’s escaping!” Angela heard a man yell and before she could look to see where it was all coming from, her body was knocked into by another small body hitting against her torso and legs. She grabbed onto the shoulders of whomever it was and turned to see a young beautiful Haitian boy, about twelve of thirteen, standing before her. Angela smiled at him and he smiled back.

“There he is!’ yelled a man who came around the hallway corner to Angela’s left.

The Haitian boy lost his smile and hid behind Angela’s legs. He couldn’t have been that much older than Peter she thought.

“What’s going on here?” Bob asked as he approached, a little winded.

“He’s blocking our powers and he won’t stand still,” exclaimed another man who had followed the previous one.

“He’s just a child,” Angela scolded.

“He’s a menace,” said the first man.

The Haitian glared at the first man with those amazing eyes of his. Angela glared at Bob and Bob motioned with his head for the men to leave and they obeyed.

Angela looked at The Haitian. “What is your name?” She crouched down to his level.

“He doesn’t speak, he’s mute.” Bob informed her.

“What does he do?” she looked up at Bob for a moment..

“He can take out a memory. Any memory and burns it from your mind. And whenever any one of us gets near him, none of us can use our abilities...” He sounded frustrated.

“Impressive.” Angela smiled at the boy and her eyes danced at the possibilities.

“We’ve been trying to figure out if he can control it, but right now -- we can’t keep him near anyone or they become useless. A field agent of ours found him in Haiti. Thompson, he’s out of Odessa now– brought the boy in about three months ago – thinks we can use him – which would be very beneficiary, but if he won’t stop blocking our powers – I don’t know what we’re going to do with him.”

“Where is his family?”

“He has none. He’s ours now.”

“Yes, isn’t he.” She smiled at the Haitian. “He looks dehydrated. Are you thirsty? Would you like a glass of water?”

The Haitian nodded his head.

Angela stood and spoke to the boy in French. “Would you like that?” Every good debutante society girl of the 1960s was taught French and that was why Angela’s mother demanded she learn the language – to at least help her find a good husband, she told her daughter. Angela turned to Bob. “Get the boy a glass of water, Bob.”

Bob looked at Angela like she had asked him to go to the moon. “I’m not–“

“Water. Now.” Angela had a way of being persuasive with very few words.

Bob wasn’t very happy about it, but she was his boss, at least he felt her husband was and he obeyed. “Fine.” And Bob huffed off with as much politeness as he could muster.

After Bob was gone Angela took the Haitian’s hand. “So, you don’t have a name do you?” She asked in French.

The Haitian looked up at her and shocked both of them by speaking, and in English. “I have a name...”

Angela smirked; he had tricked them all.

The Haitian continued. “I choose to keep it to myself. My silence is my weapon and my voice is my power. It is my protection.”

Angela nodded her head and spoke in French again. “Then it is a secret I will keep for you.”

The Haitian answered back in French. “One day, I hope to return this favor.” He spoke like a man, although his body still resembled a boy. He would protect her the way she had protected him and one day he would confide in her the secret of his name, and Angela would tell no one.

Angela could see how smart he was. She knelt down, looked the boy in the eye and in French spoke her final line, “I will make sure you are protected.” She nodded her head as she could hear Bob coming down the hallway. The Haitian nodded his head back to her and Angela stood.

Bob approached - he handed Angela the water, and she handed it to the boy. The Haitian reached up and took Angela’s hand with his free one and Angela smiled at him. Within a year the boy would almost be Angela’s height.

The three of them walked down the hall as Angela spoke. “This boy should be an asset to this Company, Bob. His power, if used for us and not against us – it could be everything we have been looking for. Our best defense. You need to handle it more wisely.” She knew how to get someone on your side was by appealing to their best interests.

“You mean in the field?”

“One day, perhaps. He’s still young. But his talents are of something you can put to good use.”

“We’ve had no progress and right now I’m afraid the only course of action is...elimination.”

The Haitian knew that word.

Angela was cross. “He’s mute, not dumb, Robert.”

Bob didn’t like to be called Robert. They stopped walking.

Angela continued talking. “This Company will teach him -- the way we all have. We will teach him to wield his gifts. And he will thank you for this service.” Angela squeezed the Haitian’s hand. “I will be bringing my objections up with the other founders, but until then I want to hear back that this boy has been treated with the utmost respect-- and that he has the chance to grow up to be a man. He deserves better.” She took a soft breath that could only be described as controlled. “We all do. If he is treated well, Bob,” she appealed to his Company nature, “The more loyal he will be.” She turned to the Haitian. “You are safe now. I have to leave, but I will return to visit you when I can. I don’t know when, but I will.” She winked at him. She looked at Bob sternly. “Bob.” She arched her eyebrow and started for the door.

Bob called after her as she left. “And what happens when someone else gets a hold of him,” Bob yelled after her. “If he’s used as a weapon against us, we’d all be powerless...”

Angela turned slightly and smirked at Bob by the large Primatech entrance way. “Then aren’t you glad you found him first.”

And Angela Petrelli left the building.

Next Chapter: The Company has Claire. How will Angela save her? Or will she leave her granddaughter to the wolves and let the company just have her?