Author's Note: The title comes from an Othello quote, but modified slightly. If this confuses you, there are reasons behind the sudden changes in plot, it's not me forgetting the story so far.

And Who Is He To Say That I Am The Villain?

Part One: Clear Across America- Taking Time

Peter Petrelli, Odessa, Texas

Friday 13th

So, this was where I had ended up? Who would have thought it, and now I couldn't go back-not ever. It was a sad truth but I took it on the chin, it didn't matter. Nathan's career would be better off without my presence, Mom would have her real favourite and Simone had Isaac. There was nothing to keep me there, and many reasons to leave. Mainly, because, fool that I am, I loved them all anyway.

I looked around myself, remembering the last time I had been in Odessa, Texas. It was odd to think that both Claire and I had almost died here. Then again, I had been a hero. Maybe not exactly the kind I had wanted to be, but I had saved her.

Funny how, after everything I knew. That I would kill everyone I loved, I came to the place where I had almost died, it had a certain importance to me, which I felt was right, as long as Claire didn't die I was happy to go out into the desert and let myself do so. Then again, I'd probably die out there before I had a chance to go all atom on everyone, if I took nothing to eat or drink.

I had promised myself to go and say goodbye to Claire when I had realised where my feet had lead me, and make sure she was okay before I went out to the desert, so I looked up the Bennets in the bible of phone-numbers that is the yellow pages and located her. I reached her house within the hour, having grabbed a taxi at the airport and with no luggage; I had nothing extra to wait for.

The Bennet house was large, as I had expected, though not intimidatingly so. I wandered up the wide drive, checking my watch to make sure she'd be home from school. It was six o'clock; she would be home by now. I rang the bell quickly and waited.

A boy of around fourteen, with sandy blonde hair and a scowl opened to door. He scowled some more.

"You're not Zach," he stated, slightly angrily.

"No." I replied, not sure who Zach was anyway.

"Are you here to see my sister?" I nodded, the boy looked even angrier, and, I wasn't sure, but quite upset too. "Well, she's not here. Goodbye." he moved to shut the door but I stopped him by putting my foot in the way.
"My name's Peter Petrelli, if your sister's not here, either, do you know when she'll be home or, may I speak with your father?"

"I'm Lyle." he replied.
"Nice to meet you, Lyle,"

"You better come talk to dad then." I followed him into the house and he shut the door. Leading me to a study at the back of the first level, he opened the door. "Dad, someone to see you" Noah Bennet looked up from the phone call he was engaged in, his face paled and he hung up.

"Come in, Mister Petrelli."

**

"Claire's missing?!" I exclaimed when he explained the situation, a nod was all the confirmation received.

"Yes, she never came home from school yesterday. Her friend, Zach, was supposed to be picking her up after Cheerleading, but they told him she hadn't been to practice. At first, we assumed that she had been invited out somewhere and would be back later when Zach phoned to let us know, but, then we waited and she never re-appeared. We've been hoping all day that maybe she stayed at a friend's house and is on her way back, but now I am worried."

"And she said nothing at all?" I asked.

"Nothing, as far as I can gather. I have spoken with almost every child's parents in her school, and no one knows where she is"

"You don't do things by halves do you?" I asked a little surprised. He glared at me.

"No, not when it involves the safety of my daughter - I do not do anything 'by halves'" I flinched slightly - I hadn't meant it like that, but, all I could think was that Noah Bennet had a few more secrets than anyone knew existed.

"I'm sorry-I didn't mean to be offensive..."

"No, I'm sorry - I'm just worried about Claire." he shook his head slightly, and when I looked I could see that he hadn't slept for worrying. "I had hoped that maybe she had gone to visit you after everything that happened at the dance - but it appears I was mistaken."

"She might have - but missed me. I can get my brother to check at my apartment and around the area."

"I would be very grateful, and if you could help us look around here..."

"It'd be my pleasure." I assured him with a smile.

So much for goodbye...

Nathan Petrelli, New York City, New York

Peter Petrelli's Apartment

"Peter?" I called, as I entered the apartment. There was no answer; it was always the same now, no Peter. I was starting to get worried about him, but my brother could probably look after himself...well, I hoped he could. The telephone rang, and I sighed, why did I always end up taking messages for my little brother? I picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"Nathan?" I was shocked to hear the very brother I had been cursing only moments before on the other end of the line.
"PETER!"

"Yes..." he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"Where the hell are you?" I asked him, angrily, "And, to those ends, why are you ringing yourself?" he chuckled down the phone, and I was sorely tempted to hang up on him, but then I'd never know where he was, and mother would be even more upset.

"I'm..." he paused, as if wondering if it was a wise idea to tell me where he was-he knew I would come and find him. "I'm in Odessa."

"Texas? Where you got arrested?"

"Where I was a hero, Nathan!" he protested.

"I don't care, Peter. Why are you there?"

"Don't come and get me, Nathan. Look, I'm here...because I didn't want to hurt the rest of you-"

"Peter you're-"

"Let me finish, Nathan!" he cut in, he'd never cut across me like that before - never.

"Find out where Claire Bennet is, Nathan," I paused, I had been about to yell at him, but I wondered.

"Okay, I'll look, Peter."

"And you won't come and get me?"

I laughed, "At least you're out of trouble while you're looking for her."

"Bye, Nathan."

"Goodbye, Peter." I rang off, this was annoying, now I had to look for some teenager. Sometimes I really disliked my brother.

Simone Deveaux, New York City, New York

Saturday 14th

Isaac looked up at me, I shrugged as I replaced the phone on the hook.

"No sign of him." I sighed unhappily and sat down at Isaac's desk, thumbing through some of his sketches, absently.

Isaac stood uncertainly by my shoulder, turning back to him and leaving the wad of paper where it was, I took his hand. "Thank-you for helping me, Isaac."

"Simone, you know I'd always help you." I laughed slightly, it wasn't like my normal laugh, strained, humourless. I smiled weakly at him.

"I know, which is why I feel so guilty."

"Don't feel guilty," he told me sympathetically "Feel guilty after we find Peter." he smiled at his own joke, but all it did was make my thoughts return to Peter.

Isaac sighed, when yet another person knocked at the door, and he moved to answer it. Nathan Petrelli, Peter's brother, stood rigidly there and handed him an envelope. He didn't say a word to explain, but simply turned and left again.

"What was that about? Why was Peter's brother here?" Isaac shrugged and he returned to me, turning the plain white envelope over in his hands.

"That's who it was? I haven't the faintest idea…" he took the letter opener from his desk and slide the message open deftly.

"What does it say?" I asked quickly, as his eyes darted across the page. He turned the note around for me to see, all it said, in thick, black capitals was:

'PETER'S IN ODESSA'

"Do you think he wants us to go and get him?" Isaac asked me, I shrugged.

"Why else tell us without an explanation?"

Mohinder Suresh, New York City, New York

Sunday 15th

There wasn't much to be done except listen to Gabriel, there wasn't anything I could do. He had the ability and I did not, which meant that if I had any chance of bringing these people of extraordinary ability to my side, I would need him to convince them for me.

"Who are we going to see next?" he asked me quietly as we walked through the crowded city. Over all the noise, I was surprised I could even hear him, especially as he was barely audible. I looked down at the address in my hand.

"A Mister Carl Wearne,"

"What can he do?" he asked interestedly, I looked at Gabriel for a moment and knew deep down I probably shouldn't trust him, but anything that helped a little would be of some use to my cause. I looked back to my notebook as we stood on the edge of the pavement trying to hail one of the shining, yellow taxis I had enjoyed a brief stint of driving.

"Apparently he can teleport." I told him, Gabriel's face became brooding once more.

"How…useful…"

"Indeed, I suppose it would be."

Claire Bennet,

Somewhere in the American Desert

Monday 16th

I wasn't overly sure where I was exactly, or how I had gotten there, but the diner was nice enough. It was the kind of place you saw in old television shows, way out in the desert and everyone knew everyone. I smiled despite myself.

"Are you read to order?" the waitress asked me pleasantly, her red hair falling over her face as she leaned forward to get her notepad. I nodded and she smiled.

"I'll have the cherry pie, please"

"Good choice. Anything else?" I looked over the menu which consisted of an insane amount of bacon and nodded.

"Can I get a coffee too?" I asked her, folding the menu back again and placing back on the table. She nodded again, jotting down my order.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with your order" She walked away, ripping off my order and placing it on one of the skewer on the shelf of the food hatch which lead into the kitchen.

I was thinking of home, and how I'd abandoned poor Zach. I was supposed to meet him after practice, but I hadn't. the thing was, I couldn't remember why or how I had ended up where I was, it was like the Haitian had blanked the entire journey from my memory, but that couldn't be what was happening. I sighed heavily, I was stuck somewhere, most probably in the middle of the desert, and I wondered how my real father would react to me when I finally met him.

The waitress returned with my order after a few more minutes. She pushed the plate onto the table and filled my coffee cup carefully for me.

"Do you want any cream or ice cream on that pie?" she asked me politely.

"Ice cream, Please" she nodded and returned with a small ice cream tub after a few seconds.

She scooped some of it onto the plate then left after telling my to enjoy my pie.

I ate sparingly, but it sure was nice pie.

I looked around myself silently as I ate, watching the other people in the diner with a detached interest. The eyes of a dark individual sitting at the counter caught my own, and I looked away. His gaze was trained a little too knowingly on me, but that was impossible - if I didn't know where I was, how could anyone else? I didn't look up again, but I did hear him call to the waitress that had served me and ask for more coffee. I ignored it, I was just nervous he was just some random guy-he couldn't know anything about me. I really missed Zach just then.

Micah Sanders, Las Vegas, Nevada

Monday 16th

"Micah?" The front door opened and Dad walked in, carrying a bundle in his arms.

"I'm here, Dad" he strolled into the sitting room and dumped the bundle on the coach opposite to me. He looked around us then turned back to me.

"Where's your Mom, Micah?" concern furrowed his brow as he checked the house for any signs of Mom, and I was tempted to sneak away before he realised she was gone. He returned before I could, however. "Micah, where's Niki?" he asked me desperately. I looked up at him sadly.

"She's gone, Dad." He sat down heavily on the coach next to me, and sighed.

"Gone? Gone where?" I shrugged

"I don't know." I was being honest enough, I would never lie to Dad…at least, as long as the truth didn't put either of them in danger - be it from each other, or someone else.

"Why? Why would she leave me? Or you - she would never leave you!" I sighed, watching my father break down was not something a kid wanted to see on their weekend, so I turned to him seriously and patted his arm.

"Jessica was back." his head snapped up and his eyes met mine.

"Jessica?" I nodded, solemnly.

"What do you mean, Micah?" he queried dazedly, obviously Mom leaving was affecting him more than he cared to admit even to himself.

"Jessica was taking over, had been in control for weeks. Mom was herself again, and she didn't want Jessica to hurt us - so she left." Dad nodded sadly then stood up.

"Micah, get your stuff." I stared blankly at him.

"What?"

"Get your stuff, Micah. We're going to get your Mom back"

"but she doesn't want us to - I miss her to but-"

"Just get your stuff, Micah! I'm not going to let Niki get herself hurt - she belongs with us. Jessica's part of your Mom, and I know Niki doesn't want to leave us." I was slightly worried about my father's sanity, but I did as I was told just the same, if it meant Mom not leaving us - I was game.

Ando Masahashi, New York City, New York.

Isaac Mendez's apartment

Thursday 19th

Hiro and I reached Isaac apartment early that day, and I followed my friend in through the door.

"Mister I-sak?" Hiro called, quiet embarrassingly if I must admit. I looked around, it looked pretty empty - but it usually did.

"If something jumps out at us - I'm going home." I told him as we wandered around the studio looked for signs of life…or death.

"Mister I-sak should be here," Hiro told me, with his usual determination. I nodded wearily.

"Destiny - I know" He shook his head

"No, it's Wednesday." I raised an eyebrow

"How does that make it a certainty that he'll be here? Or does destiny not work on Wednesdays?" I asked him, Hiro did say some odd things sometimes.

"Mister I-sak was killed on this Wednesday." I groaned

"So, were going to find him with his head cut open?" That wasn't something you wanted to see after just eating, my stomach lurched in agreement and I hoped we didn't encounter Hiro's future Isaac.

"There is no one here…" he told me after we had fully inspected the studio, and much to my stomach's pleasure found nothing resembling a dead body.

"Can we leave then?" I asked hopefully, he shook his head.

"Why not?" Hiro smiled at me and waved a comic in my face. 9th Wonder.

"Where did you…"

"It was over there!" he told me, pointing to the side table.

"What happens next?" I had given up on trying to dissuade him from these strange and perilous antics.

"We," he began, flicking through the pages and arriving at our current position, he turned the comic for me to see.

"Niki?"

D.L Hawkins and Micah Sanders, New York City, New York

Monday 23rd

"Who the hell are you?" I yelled at the man standing in front of me. He shrugged, a sly smile spreading across his face.

"Something only God can tell you." I glared at him

"What the?"

"Ask him for me when you see him," I looked at him blankly, pushing Micah behind me and motioning for him to run turning away - just for a split second. Then I turned back to the man questioningly, what had he meant? "Let me know when we next meet." he told me, I looked down at my stomach, at the scarlet blood seeping through my shirt and the knife jutting out of my gut. My hands moved to the wound and he dragged the knife out, slick with dark blood. He examined the blade carefully, turning it over in his hands and wiping off my blood on his shirt. I collapsed to my knees, coughing. He watched me, grinning, evidently pleased with himself.

"See you in hell!" I choked back, my vision blurred and still gripping my side I fell completely to the floor. I heard Micah's running feet, the man didn't move, he obviously wasn't interested in my son's ability, that, or he didn't know about it. The question was, did he know about mine?

"I don't plan on dying," he chuckled "But you are..." A whooshing noise replaced anything else in my hearing, and it meant nothing.

Matt Parkman, Odessa, Texas

The Bennet Home

Saturday 14th

"Officer Parkman, nice to see you again," he greeted me warmly and with a handshake, but I doubted Bennet was overly pleased to see me.

"Likewise, Mister Bennet."

"Please, come in." he gestured into the house, standing back to allow me entry to the large home, and I nodded.

"Thank-you."

He lead me through the house into the dining room. It was a large, square room with black half paneled walls and a dark wooden floor. Several rugs were neatly positioned through the space and a large rounded table sat in the centre. Several paintings of dogs lined the walls higher up, and a delicate looking chandelier hung from the room's ceiling. I sighed, Yvonne and I could only dream of such a décor arrangement.

Sitting at the table, was the rest of the family. Mrs. Bennet, looking worn out and worried; their son, whom I had not met, looking angry and a small dog sitting at his feet. On the other side of the table, sat Peter Petrelli. I stared at him in disbelief - what was he doing there?

"This is Officer Parkman, he's here to help us find Claire." Bennet introduced me with a degree of annoyance, and the family nodded to me.

"Hello Officer Parkman - nice to see you again" Peter called to me, cheerily.

"Please, take a seat." Bennet told me politely, I did as I was told, and we began to discuss Claire's disappearance.

"I would like to request that Peter assists you, Officer Parkman." Bennet told me after we had gone over all of the facts - I glared at him.

"I'm sorry, sir - this is an LAPD matter. I'm afraid I cannot allow a civilian to participate in this investigation, unless it is for questioning."

"Hey, I'm here to help - I can be subtle" I glared at Peter as he said this - subtlety wasn't the issue here.

"You can't help - I could be struck off for letting you."

"My brother can make sure that doesn't happen, Officer Parkman - But, I need to help find Claire." I sighed

"Does the word 'protocol' mean nothing to any of you?"

"Not particularly, but I hear it means even less to you," Bennet replied, I gritted my teeth

"Fine, but do as I say." Peter grinned, ecstatically.

"I never said otherwise." he promised me. I sighed, I was going to lose my badge - again.

Hiro Nakamura, Albany New York

Sunday 22nd

I was walking through Albany, wondering when he would arrive when I spotted a waffle stand…would it be wrong to get waffles when my best friend's life was is stake? No, a hero would not abandon his friend - even if it meant waffles. I sighed, leaving the waffles behind.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for really, but I hoped that, as he had said, he would be easily noticeable.

"Tell me," a deep voice began behind me, I turned quickly to them, facing a man with dark brooding eyes, and a terrifying smile. Predatory. "Can you do your trick before I do mine?" I blinked, hadn't I heard that exact line before?

"A Hero doesn't use tricks - he uses courage!"

He laughed "How noble," I nodded, he clapped his hands in amusement, "Very gallant - thing is, the good guy never wins."

"Yes, the hero always wins!"

"Maybe in anime, but this is the real world - and the villain's never been me before. You'll see what a real bad guy is." he chuckled, taking a step towards me. I suddenly had the urge to run away. It was a very strong instinct.

"You won't win," I informed him, even though my knees were shaking.

" Sorry, you've pulled the Joker - I win" he hissed…

Isaac Mendez, Las Vegas, Nevada

Thursday 19th

"Simone, why are we in Las Vegas?" I asked, turning to her in confusion. I had been wondering it for quite some time, but only now did I ask.

"Linderman." was her only reply, she walked through the double doors of the Casino and I followed in a panicked silence.

"The man who buys my paintings?" she nodded, pushing my hands from her arm impatiently.

"Yes, Isaac!"

"Why?" I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me, looking her straight in the eye. "Linderman's dangerous, Simone." She smirked at me, pityingly.

"I know that, Isaac."

"Then why willingly walk into a den of lions?"

She chuckled, "It could be worse, now calm down before you ruin everything."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, letting go of her shoulders and walking beside her with a synthetically calm demeanor.

"If we're going to find Peter, we'll need Linderman's help." I sighed - how had it ended up like this? I was the drug addict, wasn't I supposed to be the one who got us into dangerous situations?

Sylar, Las Vegas, Nevada

Thursday 12th

I smiled to myself, something I was pleased to note was happening more and more often these days. Everything was going well, falling into place, following my carefully worked plan. Luckily for me these, 'people with extraordinary ability' were rather good at doing exactly as I predicted they would. Sheep.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and looking out of the window. The desert looked amazing from where I was. I had always loved places such as this, the desert, the arctic, the rainforest. Extremes of conditions and temperature. Prefect. Nothing could be balanced, not really. It was the places such as this that made people fearful, the places such as this that I wanted to emulate as a person. I would be the extreme, the next amazing rung on the ladder of evolution. I would be the one to lead the world into something more amazing than they could have dreamed, and I would take that ability and power from those who did not deserve it - it was my destiny. I could feel it.

The strings of ability, family and ideals becoming blurred between them. They were mine, they had always been mine - and now they were returning to their salvation - and damnation. I laughed.

The door to the office opened, and I heard the footsteps move towards me.

"Mister Linderman?" I turned, my features that of another.

"Yes, Charles?"

Mohinder Suresh

Doctor Suresh's apartment

Tuesday 17th

I looked down at the list of names, address' and abilities slowly. I was making my way down the list and finding the people were either dead or not interested. I sighed heavily, this was harder than I had anticipated.

I picked up the phone again taking the next name and calling the telephone number listed.

"Hilldale Public school, how may I help?"

"I would like to inquire into the current address of the pupil under the name of Micah Sanders, please."

"I'm sorry, we can only give out personal information to members of family or the police." I thought quickly, I was a doctor…

"I'm his doctor, I…" I wondered if I should lie, but this was a child we were talking about, and I could not let Sylar kill a child if I could prevent it. "Have his test results."

"Oh, Doctor Roberson?" she asked as I heard the rustling of paper.

"Yes, could you tell me where I can get into contact with his parents, they seem to be having problems with their telephone line." I lied

"Of course - though Micah is no longer a pupil at Hilldale. May I take your number?"

"You may…" I reeled off the number and then replaced the telephone.

Next on my list was Mathew Parkman again, on the off chance that he would pick up rather than his wife. I hoped so.

Yvonne Parkman, Los Angeles

Parkman Household

Wednesday 18th

"Damn phone," I grumbled walking towards the confounded thing and answering it.

"Hello, may I speak with Mister Mathew Parkman, please?" I sighed, I recognised the voice from somewhere

"He's in Odessa at the moment." I replied

"Do you know when he may be back?"

"Afraid I don't - he's on a missing persons case"

"Well, Mrs Parkman, am I correct in assuming it is Mrs. Parkman whom I am addressing?"

"You assumed correctly," I told him

"Well, perhaps you could tell me if your husband has experienced anything out of the ordinary recently?"

"Such as?" I questioned, panicking slightly, no one could know about Matt's power - it was impossible.

"I believe he may posses the power of telepathy, would you know anything about this?" I sighed.

"Who is this?"

"I'm Doctor Suresh, we spoke on the telephone before."

"How did you know this?" I asked him, obviously he knew, and wouldn't give up

"His genetic code fits a pattern I have found, and this part of the genetic coding gives people extraordinary abilities, such as your husband's." I nodded slowly to myself

"You're a scientist?" I asked.

"A geneticist – yes." he replied politely.

"Can you help him?"

He sighed slightly, "I'm not sure whether that is possible, but I would need to observe him first."

"He gets headaches because of it…"

"I'm sure, it must be a terrible burden for him."

"Both of us - please help him."

"I shall do my best," he promised me

"I'll get him to phone you." I told him a little guiltily - Matt didn't want anyone else to know, but I hoped he would thank me if perhaps we could find a way to help him feel better, or control his power. Even better, to get rid of it.

"Thank-you, Mrs. Parkman." He rang off, and I wandered around the house waiting for Matt to call from Odessa, Texas.