Fic: Primatech 815 - Ch. 14
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Isaac trembled in Simone's concerned embrace, his wide brown eyes unable to meet hers as the cave dwellers carefully studied the now sealed cave entrance, screaming their leader’s name.
"Peter!" Matt called, pressing himself gingerly against the sharp rocks. "Peter! Can you hear me?"
The man's cries were met with silence and Isaac soon felt a ball of guilt forming in the pit of his stomach. "I... I dunno what happened," he stammered. "We... we were just talking and-"
"It's okay, baby," Simone soothed, holding him tighter. "No body's blaming you."
"We need some extra hands," Matt grumbled, grabbing one of the rocks and tossing it aside. "Somebody needs to go down to the beach and get help."
"Yeah, right," Isaac nodded, not completely taking in what was being said or what he was saying. "I'm on it."
"What?" Simone gasped. "You sure? Baby you almost got crushed just a second ago!"
"It's alright," he said, slipping out of her tender embrace and heading towards the tree line. He knew that he was the one responsible for all this and he couldn't just sit around as Peter bled or suffocated to death. "I'm alright. I can do this."
Without another word, he took off towards the beach. "Make sure you tell Claire!" Matt shouted after him, his voice quickly fading to a whisper in the distance.
"So what are the odds of this working?" Sylar asked, breaking the silence that had fallen on the two since they had left the beach.
"What are the odds of us surviving a plane crash?" Mohinder snapped, wishing that Sylar would just keep quiet.
"People survivor plane crashes all the time," the other man pointed out.
Mohinder frowned, glancing over his shoulder and catching Sylar's intense gaze. He shuddered, picking up his pace and putting some distance between them. “So are you trying to say it was a coincidence?” he asked, gauging the other man’s response. "I'm surprised to hear such a thing from you. Weren't you the one who said all this was part of our 'destiny'?"
"Our destiny," the serial killer clarified, quickening his step to walk side by side with the genetics professor, "is to be together. I didn't factor us surviving a plane crash with forty five other people, but I suppose they will serve some sort of purpose."
The Indian man frowned, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He should have known better than to engage Sylar in any type of conversation. He was delusional and for the life of him, Mohinder could not understand why the other man had asked to come on this hike with him. Sylar himself had said several times that he had no interest in leaving the island, yet he was out in the jungle facilitating a rescue plan.
"You know it's been a while since the two of us have been alone together."
Ah. So that was it. "We've been together for eight days," Mohinder snapped.
"Yeah, on the beach," the American pointed out. "There are always other people around. Here, it's just you and me."
The geneticist rolled his eyes once again at the other man's comment. It was then that he remembered Claire's words to him, how she had suggested that he "dump" Sylar. He shuddered at the very idea of the two of them as a couple. "Do you realize that the people at the beach think we're a couple?"
Sylar stumbled, momentarily losing his footing. "What? What makes you think that?"
"Claire said I should 'dump you'," he told him. He paused as a thought suddenly popped into his head. "You haven't been telling anyone that we were dating, have no?"
"No!" he answered quickly, and Mohinder instantly knew that he was lying.
He frowned, stopping in his tracks. "What have you said?"
Sylar stiffened, coming to a stop a few feet away. "Nothing."
"Has anyone said something to you?"
The killer fell silent, his eyes darting between the trees and the ground, but pointedly not looking towards Mohinder. "Some people... have called you my boyfriend."
Mohinder felt his skin loose color and his jaw go slack at the words. So there were others? More people than just Claire who thought of them that way? "Have you corrected them?"
"It's easier not to."
The Indian man felt his eyes narrow as he balled his hands into tight fists. He had never felt so disgusted, so humiliated in his life. It was bad enough that people were thinking this way, but to have Sylar go around facilitating these rumors only made things worse.
"Look at me!" he snapped, only mildly surprised when Sylar turned his head towards him. "You're nothing more than a stone around my neck. You're just a thorn in my side! I don't like you! I can't stand you! You'll never be anything more to me than a parasite so don't you dare think for one second that anything could ever happen between us!" With that said, the Indian man stormed off, not caring whether or not Sylar followed.
Claire frowned, squinting her eyes against the harsh sunlight as she looked up to see a panicked Isaac frantically heading towards the beach. "Isaac?" she gasped, scrambling to her feet. "What happened?"
The painter came to a sudden stop, his body throbbing with panic as his eyes darted around the beach, taking in the small group quickly gathering around him. "It's Peter," he blurted out. "He's trapped."
"What?" She barely registered Niki’s startled voice as she suddenly appeared beside her. She was too distracted by the sound of her heart hammering too loudly in her chest for Claire to even think straight.
"A cave collapsed!" he explained. "We don't even know if he's alive."
"Oh God," she breathed. The ground was spinning and she suddenly felt very woozy.
The teenager flinched as Niki placed a gentle hand on shoulder. "Claire, it's okay," she assured her. "Peter's gonna be okay. We just have to get some guys together and head over to the caves. We'll get him out."
She nodded, hardly noticing as Niki and Isaac left to gather up people to lend a hand. She was about to follow, when something suddenly occurred to her: the fireworks. The signal! She couldn't just leave the beach when Mohinder was counting on her to help him isolate the Spanish signal, but sitting by and waiting around to find out whether Peter lived or died was not an option either. She needed someone to take her place, but who was left?
The teenager cringed, suddenly realizing there was only one person left on the beach who could possibly send off the flair. "Claude?" Claire cried, picking up her bottle rocket and heading towards the British man's tent.
Isaac felt his heart beat quicken as he pushed past the crowd and towards the bathrooms. He couldn't take the pressure anymore. Suddenly everyone expected so much from him. His buyers, his fans, even Simone. This wasn't how he had imagined life as an artist. It was as if everyone was constantly looking over his shoulder and judging his work. He struggled to meet their standards, but he kept falling short.
His breath quickened as he slipped inside the bathroom, looking underneath all the stalls to make sure that no one else was in the room with him before locking the door behind him.
Sweat was practically pouring down his face as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black film canister. He had been talking to someone at the showing. The guy had told him about a way to relax, a way to take the edge off, and before Isaac could even ask just what he was talking about, he found his companion slipping the container into the palm of his hands.
Tears sprang to his dark brown eyes as he popped off the gray lid and slid the small bag of heroin into his hands. He couldn't get inspiration on his own anymore. His buyers weren't impressed with him anymore. And Simone was starting to get frustrated and disinterested. This was where his life had taken him; hiding in an art gallery bathroom shooting up heroin. Yet if this was what it took, he'd do it. He knew in his gut that this was the only way he could become a great artist.
Isaac didn't head back to the caves with the others. The painter knew that the cave in was all his fault. Peter was probably lying underneath a pile of rocks bleeding to death and struggling for air all because he had been blinded by his own anger. He was sick and tired and weak. He couldn't help anyone, not even himself. There was only one thing that could possibly make him feel better.
Bennet frowned when he heard Isaac coming. The man in the horn-rimmed glasses was currently in the middle of skinning the boar Isaac had helped him catch just that morning. The sight of the skinless animal and Bennet's large hands covered in blood made his already suffering stomach long to empty itself of its contents.
"Something wrong, Isaac?" Bennet asked, glancing over at him for just a second before turning back to his task.
"There... there was an accident," he muttered. His brain suddenly felt cloudy and unfocused. "Peter... He... he's trapped... in the caves."
"Anyone trying to get him out?" Bennet’s voice was distance and completely devoid of interest as he kept his focus solely on the piglet he was preparing for dinner.
"Yeah. Bunch of people."
"Then why aren't you with them?" he asked, finally turning towards the artist and giving him his full attention. "You didn't just come here to tell me about Peter, did you Isaac?"
The younger man bowed his head in shame as tears began to fill his deep brown eyes. He was pathetic, useless, just like everyone had always said. The only thing he was good for now was getting in the way. "I want my stash," he practically sobbed the words as he struggled to keep his feelings in check. "I... I can't stand feeling this way."
Bennet frowned, disappointment clear in his eyes. "Come here, Isaac," the other man said pointing his knife towards a set of branches a foot away. "I want to show you something." The Hispanic artist did as he was directed, not really caring what Bennet was going to show him, but playing along just so he could hopefully get his drugs. Taking a few steps closer to the thick leaves, he saw that there was a cocoon hanging from the tree branch. "What do you suppose is in that cocoon?"
The artist shrugged, not at all sure where the other man was going with this. "I don't know. A butterfly?"
"No," he corrected. "It's much more beautiful than a butterfly. That's a moth cocoon. Butterflies get all the attention, but moths build their cocoons out of silk which helps them grow faster. Stronger."
Isaac blinked in confusion, suddenly getting the feeling that Bennet had spent most of his free time looking up useless information on Wikipedia. "That's wonderful, but-"
"You see this little hole," Bennet cut in, pointing at the tip of the cocoon with the blade of his knife. "This moth is just about to emerge. It's in there right now, struggling. It's digging its way through the thick hide of the cocoon. I could help it, take my knife, gently widen the opening, and the moth would be free. But it would be too weak to survive. The struggle is nature's way of strengthening it." Isaac felt his stomach curl as Bennet reached into his back pocket and pulled out the small bag of heroin. "Now this is the second time you've asked me for your drugs back. Ask me again and it's yours."
Matt grunted, gripping the large rock in his hands and passing it on to the next person in their line of workers. He huffed, whipping the sweat from his brow and flexing the tips of his raw and worn out fingers. The man blinked, noticing that after hours of work they had finally made a hole large enough for someone to fit through. "Hey!" he said, drawing everyone's attention towards the entrance they had managed to create. "Hey! We've got a hole."
"Peter!" Claire shouted, pushing her way past the others and scrambling towards the narrow gap. Simone was just a step behind her, pressing herself against the jagged rocks to try to get a look inside the collapsed cave. "Peter! Can you hear me?"
There was a short pause before the sound of soft moans met their ears. "He's alive," Simone said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Peter?" Claire said again, urging the other man to give them a clear response. "Are you okay?"
"I'm pinned," they heard Peter's voice whisper. He sounded weak, frail, and just barely on the edge of consciousness. "I can't move."
"What do we do?" Simone asked, turning her worried eyes towards Matt. "How do we get him out?"
"Isaac," Peter whispered from within the cave. "Isaac was with me."
"He's okay," Simone assured him. "He got out just in time!"
"We can't make the tunnel any bigger," Matt sighed, running his hands over his short black hair, "but since Peter can't get out, someone's going to have to go in and un-pin him."
"You mean, crawl through that?" Niki asked, whipping the sweat from her neck.
One of the Asian men blurted something out, gesturing vigorously at the tunnel. Of course, since no one spoke their language, the man was ignored. Matt would have felt guilty for so carelessly pushing someone aside, but a man's life was at stake and that was the most important thing on his mind.
"I'll do it."
The group of survivors quickly turned around and saw Isaac standing just a few feet away.
"Isaac?" Simone gasped, pushing herself off the rocks and towards her boyfriend. "No way. You barely made it out of there, now you want to go back in?"
"I did this Simone," he told her firmly. "I put Peter in this situation, it's only right that I'm the one to get him out."
Matt sighed, pulling out the flashlight he'd been carrying out of his back pocket. The bottom line was that someone had to go in and get Peter, the only one on the island with any medical knowledge, out and he wasn't exactly the right size to crawl through the small tunnel. "Go slow," Matt told him, handing the artist the flashlight. "Try not to nudge any of the rocks around you."
"Anything else?" Isaac asked, flicking the flashlight on and off to make sure it worked.
"Good luck," he said, patting the younger man on the back.
"Be careful," Simone said, pressing a bottle of water into Isaac's side.
Isaac nodded, accepting the bottle of water and kissing Simone's temple tenderly. Without another word, the artist approached the tunnel, slipping inside the entrance and wiggling his way through. The small group gathered closer to the entrance as Isaac all but disappeared inside. Matt frowned, crouching down next to the hole and trying his best to try to spot Isaac and see how far he had gone.
Before long the cave started to rumble and Matt's stomach clenched with the fear that the artist may have nudged a rock out of place. "Isaac!" he called. "Isaac move!"
The words barely left his mouth before the tunnel they had spent hours trying to form closed off completely.
Isaac coughed, his whole body shaking as dirt and dust once again poured all over him as the entrance he had just been crawling through closed up behind him. He shook his head, dispelling some of the bits of rocks from his hair and clearing his head, before pressing on. It didn't take long before he spotted Peter, lying flat on his back, dazed and barely awake with a large rock covering his right arm.
"Hey," Isaac smiled, pulling himself out of small opening. "I'm here to rescue you."
Peter smiled back as he watched Isaac approach him carefully. "That's great," he rasped. "Think you can get this rock off of me?"
Isaac nodded, crawling beside the other man and getting into a good position so that he would be able to pull the rock off without stepping on Peter. "Alright," Isaac said, wrapping his hand around the large rock and getting ready to lift it off. "On the count of three. One... Two... Three!"
With a large grunt, Isaac shoved the bolder off of the young man's arm, causing a howl of pain to erupt from the nurse. For a moment, Isaac was worried that Peter's screams would cause another cave in, but when the rocks did not fall, he decided to focus his concern on the nurse's physical state.
"Sorry, man," he whispered. "You okay?"
"My shoulder's dislocated," Peter grunted, studying his arm with a critical eye.
Isaac paled at the nurse's words. "Whuh?" he murmured. His stomach was already tying itself into knots; just the mere mention of someone's body part being dislocated was enough to nearly send him over the edge.
"You're gonna have to pop it back in."
Isaac had a feeling he was probably going to throw up.
"We need to try again," Claire said frantically, eyeing the now sealed entrance with worry. "They're going to suffocate. What if both of them are hurt?"
"Claire," Niki started, resting a reassuring hand on the blonde teenager's shoulder.
"We can't just leave them like this," Simone added in.
Matt frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose as the small group continued to panic and argue amongst themselves. "Okay! Okay!" he grunted, rubbing at his temples wearily. He had been a cop for years, but he had never exactly been put in a leadership position before. The man had never realized how difficult taking charge could be. "We'll try again. Everyone just needs to form up again, and we'll start digging."
The group of weary survivors grumbled and nodded before reforming their chain and getting back to work, determined to rescue the two men trapped inside of the collapsed cave.
Isaac frowned, coiling his fingers into tight fists, hoping they would stop trembling. His stomach was doing back flips. The sickening pop that erupted from Peter's shoulder when he had pulled the joint back into its socket still echoed in his head, even as he tried to focus on thinking of a way out or conserving oxygen as they waited for rescue.
He heard Peter take a loud gulp of water, wetting his dry mouth before clearing his throat loudly. "So how long has it been?"
The artist blinked, looking up at the young nurse with confusion in his eyes. "I dunno what you're talking about."
"How long has it been since your last fix?" he clarified.
A slight blush spread across the Hispanic man's face. He was grateful for the dim light of the cave, hoping that he could hide the way his face was quickly reddening. "'Bout a day and a half," he admitted. "How'd you know?"
"I'm a nurse," he said, offering him a drink from the now half empty water bottle. Isaac frowned and waved him off, feeling too guilty to share water with the other man. "I've seen these symptoms before."
"You're not the only one who sees things," Isaac grumbled pointedly, instantly regretting the words. He already felt like an ass for getting Peter trapped in the cave in the first place, he didn't need to make matters worse by starting a fight.
A shocked look suddenly spread across the young nurse's face as he bowed his head and looked away. It was clear that he knew exactly what Isaac had meant. "I... I'm not gonna lie," Peter whispered. "I have a crush. But I'm not that kind of guy. I... I won't do anything. She's your girlfriend. I'll back off."
"Of course," Isaac sighed. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to worry about Peter hitting on Simone, but what about her? Peter was kind, helpful, and handsome while Isaac was just a talentless druggie. How could he compete? "You're everybody's hero. A real saint."
"I'm no saint," the young man said. "I've got skeletons in my closet too."
"Not like me."
Peter frowned, before reaching out and placing a tender hand on the other man's shoulder. "You're a good person Isaac. You're quitting and that says a lot."
"Yeah, only took me five years. I'm pathetic. A useless coward."
"Would a coward crawl into a cave, risking his life for someone he didn't even know?” he whispered tenderly. “You're not useless Isaac. You've been helping out more than anyone since the crash. You really need to give yourself more credit."
A small smile started to spread across the young artist's features. He hated to admit it, but Peter actually did make him feel a bit better. He raised his head up slightly, about to offer the nurse his thanks, when his eyes caught sight of something. It was a small insect, darting back and forth in the corner of the caves. "Is... is that a moth?"
"What?" Peter asked, twisting around to get a better look.
"Over there," Isaac said, crawling over a pile of rocks to get over toward the bug. It was only then that he saw a small beam of light shining down a few feet above them. "There's a light. I see a light!"
Claire grunted as she tossed aside another rock, quickly turning back towards the collapsed entrance and pulling another free. She was completely focused on the task at hand, pulling rock after rock without pause. Her arms were burning, sweat was pouring down her face, and her clothes were caked with dirt and grime. Yet she couldn't stop. She had to keep going. Her only focus was on getting her task done and setting Peter free.
A quick glance to her side showed her that Simone was working with just as much energy. In fact, the older woman looked even worse. It couldn't be helped, Simone had been working to get Peter free longer than she had, but Claire had to wonder if it was Peter's safety or Isaac's that was on the tanned woman's mind.
"Claire," Matt said, tapping her shoulder with his large hand. "Take a break. We have more than enough people to dig."
"No," she said simply, her words coming out as weak gasps. "I'm good."
"Simone?" the cop began, but the sharp look the black woman sent his way was enough to keep him quiet.
"Hey!" Micah began, causing everyone to turn and look towards him. "It's the nurse. They're okay!"
A wide smile spread across Claire's face when she spotted Peter and Isaac appearing from behind a thicket of trees. If it wasn't from the dirt covering their bodies and the tired looks on their faces, Claire would have sworn the two had been hiding behind them the entire time. Without another thought, the teenager pushed herself off of the pile of rocks and all but sprinted towards Peter. The nurse let out a loud "oof" as she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug.
"Easy," Peter hissed, returning her hug with only one arm. "My shoulder."
"How'd you get out?" Simone asked, before planting a long desperate kiss onto Isaac's dirty lips.
"Isaac found a way out," Peter told her, smiling shyly at the affectionate couple.
"Way to go man," Matt cheered, clapping the artist on the back.
A shy smile spread across Isaac's face as the crowd continued to shower him with praise and affection.
Mohinder frowned as he checked his watch, reading that it was now 4:59. His stomach wrapped itself into tight knots as he remembered the hateful look Sylar had given him just before the two had parted ways in the jungle. Any other time, the Indian man would not have cared about hurting the serial killer's feelings, but this was different. His plan and all hopes for finding the Spanish woman's signal may come apart just because Sylar was feeling hurt. Sylar was cruel and petty and he hated being embarrassed. Worse still, he didn't even want to get off the island. It would be all too easy for him to just smash Mohinder’s equipment and go back to the beach.
He checked his watch again and saw that it was now five o'clock on the dot. The geneticist sent out silent pray to whatever deity was watching over him before pulling the match out of his back pocket and bending down to light the bottle rocket. The rocket took off with a high pitched shriek before exploding in the orange afternoon sky.
He held his breath and waited. One minute. Two.
Much to his surprise he soon saw Sylar's firework from his position in the jungle burst in the sky followed soon by Claire's.
"Yes," he sighed, scrambling to grab his transceiver. "Yes!" He flicked the transceiver on and watched the screen carefully. The words "acquiring signal" appeared before his eyes and were soon followed by "receiving signal".
Those black words on the faded screen were the last thing he saw before stars exploded in front of his eyes and the world went black.
Isaac groaned, his whole body trembling as he sat doubled over in front of the glow of the fire. His skin felt like wet paper and he wanted nothing more than to vomit right onto the dirt, but his stomach was empty. Nothing would come out and Isaac would be left in even more pain.
"Its okay baby," Simone soothed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling her boyfriend's body closer. "We're going to get through this together."
"Simone," he moaned, screwing his eyes closed tightly.
"Why didn't you tell me," she sighed, rubbing soothing circles into his back.
"Didn't... didn't want you... t-to think I was weak," he told her.
He could feel her scowl before she pressed a tender kiss to his temple. "I've always known Isaac," she whispered. "I've... I've been waiting for you to quit for years."
A weak smile spread across his lips as he looked over at her. "Maybe we... shoulda stayed in Australia. Coulda got some help."
"This is no time for 'what ifs' and 'maybes'," she told him. "You're getting clean now and when we get outta here, I'm gonna help you stay clean."
His smile widened as he pressed a quick kiss to her thick lips. He was dying inside, stuck on a deserted island going through withdrawal, but with Simone sitting there next to him, he suddenly felt like the luckiest man in the world. "Gonna stretch my legs a bit, babe," he told her. "Be right back."
With that said, the young man pushed himself off of the log he and Simone hand been sharing and walked towards the other side of the camp. He soon spotted Bennet standing in front of the boar he had spent most of the day gutting and preparing for dinner. A scowl came on his face as he approached the man standing in front of the open fire and roasting the piglet.
"Give them to me," he said before Bennet even had a chance to speak.
A look of disappointment crossed the man's face as he reluctantly reached into his pocket and handed the small brown bag to Isaac's trembling hands. "Are you sure about this Isaac?" he asked.
Isaac was silent as he took the small plastic bag and tossed it into the waiting flames. "I've made my choice."