A Capable Woman 21/28 -Nathan, Peter, Angela, Simone & Charles Cameos

Chapter 21

Nathan, Peter, Angela, Bob, Linderman, Maury, Simone & Charles Cameos

Three Months Later

(May 2006)

“Ma!?” Nathan shouted to his mother as he took large strides up the stairs.

“I’m in here,” Angela called from her bedroom. She was sitting at her desk by the door writing a letter; her reading glasses were set on her nose as she pressed her fountain pen into the parchment in front of her.

Nathan approached and leaned on the door frame; he was dressed for work.

Angela looked up from under her glasses and noticed Nathan was holding a large folder filled with papers. She pulled off her reading glasses and glared at the papers in Nathan's hand. “Is that for me?”

“The last one, I promise.”

Angela let out a huge sigh and put her hand out toward Nathan.

Nathan walked to his mother’s side and handed her the folder. He then walked past his mother’s desk while he waited for her to sign what he had given her.

“I swear...” Angela set through the papers, reading and signing. “If I’d known there was so much paperwork after you die, I would have gone first.”

“Ma?!”

“I was kidding.” She took off her reading glasses and handed the papers behind her to Nathan. She then put the cap back on her pen.

“Thanks. I can't stay I have to get back to the office.” Nathan walked toward the door.

“Nathan?” Angela turned in her chair and looked at him.

“Yes, Ma,” he stressed and raised his eyebrows. He knew it would never be a quick in and out.

“Have you decided yet?”

Nathan got that Petrelli grin on his face. “I’m...yeah.. I’m thinking about it.” He seemed pretty proud of something.

“Just thinking about it?” She took off her reading glasses and tossed them on her desk.

“Well, I... I’m probably gonna do it. I mean Heidi’s still in rehab and—“

Angela gestured with her head. “She thinks it's a good idea?”

“She says she’ll support what I decide to do. Whatever choice I make.”

Angela stood and walked to her son. “What do you want to do?”

“I wanna do it, Ma?” He looked at her with serious, but conflicted eyes.

“Your father would be proud of you. He would have wanted you to do this.”

Nathan nodded his head. “I know, Ma. I know.”

“Do this for your father, Nathan. Do it for yourself. This is what you were born to achieve, Nathan. “She brimmed with pride and bravado. “We all have our roles to play, this is yours. You can make a difference. I know it. And you know it. You’ve already made up your mind... just say it out loud.”

Nathan smiled at his mother, almost beaming. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna run for congress.”

Angela leaned in and kissed Nathan on the forehead. “And you're gonna win.” She lifted her eyebrows up at him and shook her finger in his direction.

And when Nathan left her room, Angela walked over to her desk. She took out the letter she had finished just as Nathan had arrived. It had four small phrases listed after each other in a column.

Congress

Vice President

President

Within Five Years

And Angela Petrelli put the letter in an envelope. The address on the front read: Daniel Linderman – Las Vegas, Nevada

It was the first dream she had written down in had written down in thirty

Two Months Later

Bob and Linderman

Primatech Research

Hartsdale, NY

The alarm sounded and Linderman met Bob in the hallway. “What’s going on?”

They walked down the hall together as people exited the building making their way past them like ants escaping a hive.

Linderman was worried there was a jailbreak going on.

“Someone’s been stealing gold from the vault...” Bob said with disgust in his voice.

“What? How can that be?”

“I felt something was wrong, I couldn’t figure out what, so I installed a weight system; when it gets below a certain weight an indicator lets me know.”

Bob and Linderman each pushed open a set of doors with a hard shove to enter another hallway.

“Maury...” Linderman gritted his teeth.

Bob nodded his head yes.

“What’s going on!?” Angela demanded, appearing on the scene.

Linderman turned to Bob. “Get the Haitian, he’s around here somewhere.”

Bob nodded his head yes and exited back through the doors he came from.

Linderman wasn't very happy. “Seems, Maury’s been stealing some cookies from the cookie jar.” Linderman took his gun out of his holster that he wore under his jacket.

Angela looked at the gun. “Like that’s going to help,” she scoffed looking around, waiting for anything to pounce on her.

“The Haitian is on his way.” He paused and looked around. He caught eyes with Angela and they both got an odd feeling, as if Maury was around. “Maybe we can reason with him.” He put his gun away. “Maury?” Linderman yelled out.

“Maury?!” Angela shouted trying to sound sincere.

Linderman looked around suspiciously as he and Angela made their way down the hallway. “We know you’re here. Just come out and talk to us. We can talk this one out.”

Angela thought back to how Arthur use to deal with Maury. Maury trusted Arthur most of all. It had been Arthur who encouraged Maury to return to his family and his son.

"Boys need a father." Angela once overheard Arthur tell Maury in the privacy of his study and Maury did what Arthur advised him.

But once his son Matthew was thirteen-years-old Maury left for good. Arthur was disappointed, but understood the choice if Maury felt it was "the right thing to do."

Linderman and Angela walked with great conviction and power through a set of double doors that led into another hallway. They looked around, but no Maury.

Suddenly, the Haitian appeared around a corner behind them. It was then that they saw Maury appear at the far end of the hallway in front of them - he had been using his power to disguise his presence.

“Maury...” Linderman spoke with all of his sarcastic sweetness.

Angela's eyes narrowed.

Maury saw the Haitian right away and he looked frightened out of his mind.

“Get him.” Linderman barked.

Maury ran out of sight and down another hallway.

Linderman pulled his gun and motioned for the Haitian to follow. He looked at Angela. “Tell Bob we’ve got him.”

Angela nodded her head and turned behind her and through the double doors again, toward Bob’s office. She hadn’t gone that far, turning around another corner, when she felt a man’s grip on her throat and she was shoved hard up against the wall.

Angela looked to see Maury Parkman wild-eyed in front of her, dressed in one of his flashy Italian suits, his hands firmly clenched at her throat. Soon he would no longer wear such suits, when his paranoia took over and he held himself up in his apartment in Philadelphia.

“Well, if it isn’t Lady Macbeth, “ Maury snarled at her.

Angela did as much as she could not to show her fear; she was almost there, but not quite, her eyes gave her away. It was like in one moment she became that girl again thirty years ago.

“Maybe the Haitian is doing me a favor, " he smirked. “I miss this – there’s just something about seeing the whites of someone’s eyes before you kill them.” He pushed his grip around her throat.

Angela let out a gurgle and her body tightened, it was difficult to breath.

“Did you see the whites of Arthur’s eyes when you killed him?” He leaned in. “I don’t have to try and read you mind for that – I know you did it – only you could do that to him – you were killing him for years – finally you finished the job.”

“He was slowly killing himself...” Her voice was barley audible.

“What?” He pushed into her neck harder.

It was hard for Angela to speak.

“He was my friend, Arthur. He was the only one in that damn group whoever gave me any respect, you and Linderman and Charles, everyone -- always looking your nose down on me – Just because you all learned to block your thoughts from me didn’t mean I didn’t catch on. You all acted like I was subject to your power. Like I was some cockroach –lower than all of you."

He started to chuckle.

“Which is funny, right?” His eyes seemed to have darkness behind them. ”’Cause I’m the most powerful one out of all of you,” he smirked. “I can make you allllll do whatever I want. Anything I want. All I wanted was — all I deserved was your respect. But you always thought you were too good for me. So, young, so beautiful, so rich. I could have had you, I had so many opportunities, but out of respect to Arthur, I never did. But who wants you now?”

“You could never have me,” she spit out like a snake.

“Please, you had no respect for that man, me, Kaito, Adam - what's the difference - we all know the stories. “Maury leaned in closer. “You have no idea what you did to that man, how you devastated him.”

Angela wanted to defend herself, rail about how it was nothing Arthur hadn’t done to her, the true story of Adam and Kaito, but she knew she should keep her mouth shut. There was a dread in her eyes as Maury’s face was so close to hers Angela could feel his breath on her skin.

Maury continued on. “You always wondered how he found out about you and Kaito? You wanna know? I told him, I showed him in fact. Kaito had too much of a fervent imagination for it not to be real. I was in the back room, you didn’t even know it. He slipped and I caught it. I can’ t tell you I didn’t take a little amount of glee in showing it to Arthur, in bringing you down from that self-inflicted pedestal of yours,” he gritted his teeth. “I want you to feel the pain you made him feel...ahh... “ Maury smiled. “Finally, the Haitian seems to be far enough away...”

Maury nodded his head and he got that evil grin on his face. Then suddenly Maury’s entire demeanor changed and he appeared to have an honest look of shock on his face. Maury Parkman looked like a human being again, not a man high on his own power.

“Oh, my god, you..you...you didn’t kill him?” And Maury saw the truth as Angela flashed in her head what had happened to Arthur.

“Maury!” Linderman yelled from the other side of the hallway.

“I guess I don’t have to show you your nightmare," he said with a bit of disgust. "You're already living it.”

“Come on, Maury – let’s just talk.” Linderman charged him at a fast walk, showing his power and strength.

“Talk?” Maury said from his gut. “Yeah, right?" And Maury slowly started to disappear from view as he created the allusion that he wasn't there.

“Maury!” Linderman started running, but Maury was gone.

The Haitian finally appeared around the hallway corner behind Linderman.

“Find him.”Linderman snarled to the Haitian while he motioned his head toward the hallway in front of him.

The Haitian nodded his head and followed where Linderman had gestured.

“And I want him alive!” Linderman bellowed. “Are you alright, Angela?” Linderman asked her.

Angela nodded her head and was able to regain herself again. She took a few steps toward Linderman as he put his gun back into his holster.

They both looked down the hallway where the Haitian had exited.

“I can’t believe Maury became one of them,” Linderman almost spit. “Pity, really,” he sighed. “He could have done so much for the cause.”

“Yes.” Angela didn’t really think it was a pity, but she concurred.

Linderman looked at Angela. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Bring him back. We found an extraordinary family in California - they have a daughter who is just what we’re looking for. She finds people.” He looked back toward where Maury had exited. “Parkman won’t be messing with our plans. And if he doesn’t want to come back into the fold--”

“We can just kill him,” Angela spoke pointedly.

Linderman smirked. “It really is a pity. All that power and he doesn’t know how to wield it for the greater good. Never did.”

A few months later the parents of that extraordinary family, the Walkers, would be dead and Molly Walker would become the newest child taken in by the Company.

September 2006

(Six weeks to Election)

Angela could hear Daniel’s words in her head as she walked down the Bloomingdales' aisles and past the forrest of clothing racks.

“Now that Arthur is gone...the word will get out that no one is protecting you, Angela. He was a powerful man. He had powerful enemies...villains. We must all protect each other now – you and I.”

And he was right, Angela was more vulnerable now than even she could understand. She had Arthur around for so long to protect her, over thirty years, Angela had almost felt invincible, they both had; Angela had gotten cocky.

But now it was up to Angela alone, running around putting out all the fires that lay in the wake of Arthur’s death -- being sure to catch the holes in the dam before they burst in on not only the Company, but on Arthur and Angela’s own secret agenda.

With Arthur gone, Angela only had herself to do the job that had once been occupied by two. It was nothing Angela wasn’t equipped to do, she could do the work of ten men, let alone two, but it was rocky at first and Angela’s children wondered what was going on with their mother. As each passing month that led to the November election had Angela following one “stunt, “ as Nathan would call them, after another. Peter was worried, Nathan was getting angry and very close to becoming fed up with her, if he wasn't already.

Nathan remarked about it to Peter only a few months after his father’s death; her peculiar actions and demeanor. Peculiar to Nathan, only because there was no way for Angela to explain why she was acting so strange. So, it was her explanations, her excuses, that were so peculiar.

What had really happened Angela never told; she could never tell for Angela had to keep her secrets, for her secrets were the lid of Pandora ’s Box. If she revealed them, Angela felt, all hell would break loose onto the world. This meant that Angela had to be content with the fact that her sons, Nathan particularly, would have to live with the thought that his dear old mother had gone a little nutty.

Angela didn’t care what Nathan thought of her as long as he was safe, safe from the madness. A man who can fly is nothing but powerless in a world of people who don’t need guns. Even in a world of people who do.

Nathan & Peter

A few months before

Arthur Petrelli's Study, the Petrelli Home

“It’s like she has a screw lose,” Nathan said harshly as he packed up his father’s desk into a box. “Hey, where’s that big black filing cabinet?” He looked in a corner.

“What file cabinet?” Peter pushed himself off the window sill where he had been sitting.

“Look there’s a sun mark,” he pointed to a square that was darker then the rest of the carpet. “Ma!” Nathan yelled. “Where’s Pop’s filing cabinet?”

“I threw it out!” she yelled back from the living room.

The truth was the Company had come through and taken everything that left a trail back to them - it was what they always did.

Peter walked over to the study door and closed it. “Mom is not going crazy...” he stressed in a low voice.

“She’s pretty bonkers to me. Saying any damn thing she pleases...” Nathan said sharply.

“She’s so used to having Dad around, I think she’s just compensating… you know trying to speak for two people in a way– “ he gestured with his hands. “So… she’s just speaking her mind more.”

“More? Pete, Ma was always the one who let Pop talk. She hardly ever really speaks her mind flat out. She’d always let Pop speak and then silently pushes her agenda, later. Ma's controlling, there’s a difference.” He looked at Peter. “Sometimes I think we grew up with different mothers...”

“In a sense...I think we did.” Peter caught sight of his father’s purple heart. “Think about it. She was like twenty-one when she had you, she was just a kid –“

“Are you saying I was a starter child?” Nathan smirked.

“Maybe…” Peter joked.

“Help me pack this up. I want to keep the medal.” He pointed to the Purple Heart. “And the pictures – the clock too.” He waved his finger in the general direction of the objects in front of Peter.

“I can’t believe you're moving into dad’s office.”

“When I run for congress I need a place as my primary residency, so I can run in the district. “Nathan picked up a picture of himself and his dad, it was Nathan’s graduation. “I’ll probably be staying here a few nights a week when it gets closer to the election. Election night for sure. I’ll need a place to work when I’m here on and off. So for now this is home.” He set the picture down on his desk. ” It’s time to get over it, Pete. Pop would have said the same thing.”

Angela saw it all in a dream two weeks prior, but there was nothing she could do about her behavior at the moment. And so there was nothing she could do about what Nathan thought. But as the days passed and time ticked closer to the election she was quickly returning to the appearance of some kind of normalcy as she finally got her footing. That was until the socks incident.

Angela Petrelli

Six weeks before the election

Bloomingdales, Manhattan

She was being followed for sure and if she didn’t think quickly, he might just kill her there or off somewhere in the basement of Bloomingdales. Angela had to find a way to get a small crowd around her, a distraction, people, he wouldn’t do it with people around – they never do. She knew her and Arthur’s enemies as well as she knew their heroes, but then that line was always blurry anyhow.

Angela walked at a quick pace as she looked around aggressively for a crowd of people, which was hard on a Monday morning. She needed a witness or a large crowd to protect her; she needed protection. But Angela was always quick on her feet and she finally knew just what to do.

And, as if it was just a normal gesture, Angela Petrelli took a pair of designer socks, threw them in her purse and walked through the front door. The alarm went off instantly and Angela Petrelli was taken off by two armed security guards while a small crowd watched on

An hour later an unknown man was seen being taken away by a tall black man and a man with horned-rimmed glasses. And while the tall black man took the unknown man upstate for incarceration, the man with the horn-rimmed glasses paid a visit to an Indian cab driver named Suresh.

Angela Petrelli

a few hours later

Manhattan

When Peter asked his mother why she had done what she had done, her only answer was, “I just wanted to feel alive again “ and it was the truth; it was just about other things. But looking into her loving son’s eyes - her pride, her joy - it was all okay. Now it was time she went home.

After all, Peter’s first words to his mother when he saw her sitting in the police station were “Are you okay?”

Nathan wasn’t so concerned with her, he was more occupied with how it would reflect on his campaign; doing what Nathan always did, taking his mother for granted. Linderman was right; Nathan was ready to play his part. He was Arthur’s boy, Angela had no doubts.

“Nathan only cares about himself.” Peter told her as they exited into the bullpen of the police station after Nathan had left them to take care of himself and his own issues.

“Your father was the same way. Alpha dogs, both of them.” Angela retorted to her son

Nathan and Arthur were two peas in a pod, Peter was her boy. Those men -- those men and their ideas, she thought. She had no respect for the fact that being an alpha dog had started this whole thing - brought the madness into her life. Her bitterness blamed it all on testosterone and evilness. If Angela could have thrown in all organized sports, she would have. Yet in reality both Petrelli boys were equal parts their mother and equal parts their father - it was a genetic 50/50.

Peter was concerned for his mother as he helped her on with her black and white coat. Angela could tell. Mothers just can, but she knew he didn’t have to worry, that was her job.

“You, in the meantime, for all your selflessness, and sitting with dying people. What? You're gonna retire on what you make?”

“Maybe I’ll just shop lift my socks.”

“Don’t get smart.” She gestured toward him with her gloves.

Angela had been growing impatient for a lot of things lately. Nothing was going her way, she had waited too long, worked too hard. The time was at hand and now with her husband’s death there was very little time before what was to come next - micro-management was the only way.

And Peter seemed to get the brunt of it. She worried for him. He needed to get out from Nathan’s shadow. Be his own man; learn to fend for himself. This was what she struggled to explain to him at his father’s funeral and for months afterward, but he wasn’t getting it. She feared he never would. There was very little movement for Angela’s taste.

Perhaps it was her talk with Charles on his rooftop a few weeks after Arthur's death. They were having tea while Simone, Charles' daughter, showed Peter around Charles' penthouse.

“Charles, don't get me wrong. I love Peter, but that kid can barely get out of his own way. He’s ruled by insecurities. He’s weak.” Her own words ran in her head.

All Angela knew was that she needed to get some sense into her boy, or life would step all over him, use and abuse him and throw him out and who he would become might not only destroy the boy she knew, but the world itself.

Angela was changing tactics; she prayed it wouldn’t be too late. She felt Peter couldn’t handle it, the world, he was too sensitive. She had tried to shut him away from it, but now it dawned on her that her husband was partly right and he needed to understand it more – he needed to learn to protect himself. His mother and brother wouldn’t always be around. But Angela seemed to forget that Peter was her boy after all and he could take more than she ever could imagine. And it would be the only way that Peter would become the man she wished he could be. The man on this day she was urging him to be. She wasn’t trying to separate her boys; she just wanted Peter to be independent. Perhaps she had held him too close for too long.

“When you put everyone else first you end up last,” Angela told her son with an all-knowing sound to her voice.

Angela knew that from experience. She would put herself and her family first, so no one would ever make her last again - Peter had to do the same thing.

“You always put Nathan first, he took advantage.” Just like the world would do to him, if he didn’t listen. People would take advantage of his good nature. And she knew Peter would believe them and the consequences would be deadly.

“Yeah, it wasn’t you that was just pushing him right out in front of me?” Peter demanded.

“He took up more space than you. Demanded more attention. And besides, it’s not my fault you allowed it.” Angela didn’t have the time or the patience to take the elevator. She waved it off and took the stairs.

“He’s my brother. I love him.”

Angela wasn’t happy. She knew love was her downfall and it did not save the world. “Love is overrated.”

“He loves me, too. I know him. We’ve always been close.”

“Rose-colored glasses.”

Angela had seen Nathan at his best and at his worst, she saw him when he thought no one was looking. She knew him better than he thought she did. She loved Nathan, but he was selfish, just like his father and just like she had been.

Peter needed to see the world for what it was. She felt it was, now, the only way she could protect him from it. Protect his heart from the world.

Peter didn’t think it was for his protection or his benefit. “That’s cruel, Mom! Look, since Dad died, I know you’ve been feeling free to speak your mind, but it wouldn’t hurt to edit yourself every once in a while.” He walked away from her on the steps where they had stopped.

“I”m sorry if the truth hurts.” Her voice changed, she was trying to explain to her son how she only wanted what was best for him. “I’m just saying, you hero-worshiped him. And those feelings were never returned.”

Perhaps Angela was seeing too much of her husband in her son. She too had looked that way at her husband, in her own way, and to her own belief never got back what she gave in return. For years Angela saw the same thing in Peter and Nathan’s relationship and it pained her. She knew her boys loved each other as much as she loved them, but Nathan took Peter’s love for granted. That, of course, would all change soon.

But at this time, Angela understood and felt, in her soul ,that just like Arthur, Nathan would always be looking out for number one, no matter what the cost, all under the umbrella of “I’m just trying to do the right thing here.” Arthur’s old mantra of sorts, crowned on the head of her firstborn son.

Angela was now a bitter woman, using her anger toward her husband so she wouldn’t explode. Because deep down inside she knew, in the end after years of disappointment, Arthur had finally come through for her. Arthur Petrelli finally did what Angela had asked him to do and it cost him his life. Coming to terms with that truth was too much for Angela to deal with, so she pressed on with her life, with the future. For if Angela didn't look to the future, the past would destroy her and she wouldn't allow that.

Peter defended himself. “You’re wrong. It’s biological, and I can’t help it, we’re connected.”

Connected, Angela thought, there was that word again, so prominent in her life - like it was stalking her.

And then it happened. The moment Angela Petrelli had been dreading since Peter’s birth. He got serious and he poured his heart out to her about Nathan and Heidi’s accident - the one Angela had dreamt herself.

“…I woke up, and I knew he’d been hurt.” Peter looked at her with innocent eyes in that same way Peter had looked at her when he told her wanted to be a nurse so he could, " help people".

Angela stared down at her sonintensely, slapped him across the face for his foolishness and walked down the stairs toward her car, but of course it wasn’t foolishness. She only wanted him to think it was.

Angela

Manhattan

Angela had said goodbye to Peter in the parking lot and was now being driven home from the police station by her driver. She was in the middle of a phone call, on her cell, in the middle of downtown manhattan.

“Don’t worry, Angela,” said a voice on the other end of the phone. “We got him. He won’t be bothering you or your family any more.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” Angela told Linderman and hung up the phone.

But Angela’s mind was reeling. It was happening. What Peter had told her -- about a dream he had, a feeling, something, he was describing to her what was the start of precognitive dreaming.

It was now a fact, Peter Petrelli had taken his mother’s power and only she knew it - Peter had finally manifested. Angela was right, the clock was ticking; it was all coming to a head. Angela knew of only one place she could go.

“I need to make a quick stop first, “Angela told the driver. “You know the place.”

Charles & Angela

Manhattan

Angela walked into Charles' bedroom and was caught by what she saw. Charles Deveaux, one of the strongest men she had ever known, laid out, unconscious, dying in his bed. She hadn’t even taken her coat off, wearing the same black and white coat she had worn from the police station. She gripped her purse in her hand tightly.

Simone saw the look in her eyes.

“I didn’t know...” Angela fought back her tears which only looked like shock.

“I figured with Peter...”

“He didn’t tell me, but then I didn’t ask.” She never took her eyes off Charles.

“The doctors said he should’ve been dead five months ago.” Simone’s eyes were full of tears.

“Well, your father is a fighter. Always was.” Angela's voice was low and husky.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Simone left the room.

Angela let out a huge sigh and looked over at Charles. “Well, “she said taking off her gloves. “I don’t know If I can stand it if I have to hold up both sides of this conversation,” she had a joking sense in her voice, but then her chin started to quiver, but she pushed it back. “Well, then,” she tossed her hair and set her gloves, along with her purse, onto Charles' desk

She caught sight of the gold records on the wall for a moment before taking long strides over to his bed.

“I guess I’ll just have to make conversation for the both of us then, “she took Charles hand and sat on the edge of the bed.

Angela looked at Charles and leaned in.

”Charles, “she said with all seriousness, “I know you can hear me, you don’t fool me.” She smiled a little. “I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore... with Arthur gone."

She put her other hand on top of his.

“It’s been so long. I know we lost touch...I had forgotten how easy it was to talk to you.” She paused. “I’m not sure what to do, Charles.” She patted his hand. “He’s manifested.”

She nodded her head and her eyes got red.

“Now. Peter. Now of all times. I knew it was coming, but so soon. I’m fearful for him, Charles. Like I told you on the roof, he’s weak, he can’t get out of his own way, how can he handle being an empath- it will be too much for him, I just know it. He’s just too weak for this. His heart won’t be able to take it. I’ve known this for so long, Charles. I’ve lived with it for so long. This is my boy and in all my dreams, he’s dead – I can’t let that happen. Except for you, me and Nathan I can never let him meet another person like us, I can’t let him know what he’s capable of - it will kill him — I can’t lose him. Not my boys. Not after Arthur. Not now. I’ve worked too hard and too long to protect them.“

Her eyes got that intense emotion in them.

”And I will lie and I will steal, and I will cheat – if it means my dreams will not come true. And you will help me protect him, won’t you, Charles? That's why he was sent to you... you will take care of him... like you took care of me and my son will do the same for you.”

Her emotion was getting the better of her.

“And you will see Charles... that I was right, Linderman and I were right. This world WILL be won on strength. Love is a wonderful thing in theory...” she ran her hand along the side of his face. “ But, I’ve learned the hard way... it won’t save the world.”

She looked out the window with a starry-eyed look on her face.

“I wish you could see it, it’s going to be beautiful... and my son Nathan will lead the way... and all of our sacrifices will be for something. I promise you. And all the bad futures I have ever seen will be no more.” Angela stood, leaned in and kissed her old friend on the head. “See you in my dreams, my dear friend.”

Simone walked in. “I’m sorry I forgot– I needed to get...”

“No. It’s alright.” Angela straightened up and made sure none of her tears had leaked out. “I was just on my way out.” Angela crossed to the desk to retrieve her bag and gloves. As she passed Simone she set her hand on her arm. “Do me a favor and just don’t tell my son I was here.”

Simone nodded her head yes.

“He’s a wonderful man, your father.” Angela eyes showed she was being truthful. “You’re lucky to have him as a father.”

Simone was about to lose herself in her emotion. “Thank you.” She could barely get out the words and she nodded her head. Angela took a final look at Charles and left the apartment.

Angela felt much too young to be so well acquainted with death.

~

Chapter 22