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Title: Black Edelweiss
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,195
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full warnings and details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Seventeen // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eighteen
Konrad & Martin—Brooklyn, New York; 1985
Konrad generally tried to avoid Brooklyn, mostly out of habit.
Immediately after Sarah kicked him out it had hurt too much seeing the familiar places he and his family had once visited. In any case, he had promised to stay out of their lives, and as tempting as it was to contemplate running into Sarah or his sons by accident—real, or manufactured—it would have been not only careless or cowardly, but also impossible cruel to all parties involved.
It had taken something truly significant to bring him back.
Once it had become clear that the ability that erased him from others' memories made him unsuitable for work in the field, Konrad had been reassigned to handling the file archives. Charged with keeping records and organizing information for the Company's agents in the field, Konrad always made a point to perform his own initial investigation using the resources available before passing them on to the agents assigned to a case in the field. It had become a point of personal pride that he could still contribute meaningfully by ensuring their agents would always have the best and most accurate information possible.
Beginning in 1982, a pattern had begun to form in a series of cases overseen by the Company: reports of several specials and suspected specials who had been murdered, all with the same, very distinct MO. As the murders continued over the following years they eventually came to the Company's attention, and Konrad had put his effort into reexamining the cases as a whole, searching for new evidence.
It was in his examination of the earliest case in the series—a woman discovered dead in the parking lot of a diner in New Jersey—that Konrad noticed the first, damning detail which brought the real significance of the murders to his attention. That first murder had occurred in broad daylight, but none of the customers questioned had witnessed the crime take place, or even remembered seeing the victim set foot inside. Still, in their initial investigation, the police had been thorough in documenting those at the scene...
And among the names listed had been that of Martin Gray.
Konrad had long since given up any faith in coincidences, and if it was possible one of his sons had been involved then it became essential for him to know for sure. That need had brought him back to New York City—back to Brooklyn and the shop he had run back in the '50s which inquiries had revealed Martin still owned. He had gone, dreading the answers he might find... And, as was frequently the case for Konrad who had come to almost universally expect the worst, he had not been disappointed.
After more than twenty-five years and the damning truths revealed on the night they had parted, Martin's greeting for him had been as friendly as Konrad might have expected—which was to say not at all—and the story he had to tell about his younger brother had been painful to hear.
Something had happened to Samson, something Martin hardly understood, but whatever it was had scared Samson enough that he had begged his brother to take his son, claiming it was for the boy's protection. Martin had agreed, reluctantly. Only minutes later, Samson's need had proved itself when he murdered the mother of his child. Martin never even knew her name. Martin also didn't know where Samson had gone after that. Martin hadn't wanted to know. He had only hoped that Samson would hold true to his word and stay as far away from Martin and his wife—and the boy, Gabriel—as possible.
It had taken a great deal of begging of his own before Konrad was finally given the chance to meet his grandson.
Gabriel Gray must have taken very strongly after his mother, because looking into his face Konrad couldn't see much of Samson at all. He was a quiet child, shy and a little nervous. Martin thought the boy might have been the sole true witness to his mother's murder, though he didn't seem to remember the event as far as they could tell. In fact, according to Martin, Gabriel didn't seem to remember much about his real parents at all. Martin's wife, Virginia, felt it was a blessing—though after she said so Martin had told her to leave them. She had retreated into the kitchen, leaving her husband to the strange guest he had brought into their home.
As he watched his grandson—quietly absorbed in assembling a picture puzzle—it had struck Konrad painfully that the boy would never know who he was.
Konrad would never be a part of Gabriel's life unless Martin somehow forgave him, and the ability that cursed him would make any kind of meaningful reconciliation impossible. Konrad would never truly be able to make amends for the mistakes he had made with his sons.
Konrad left Martin's home shortly after that. When he did, he didn't bother to say goodbye—they wouldn't have remembered it if he had.
Konrad's entire visit would be forgotten by morning, and the package waiting for Martin at his shop the next day would be a surprise. Tucked inside the package was the old Sylar 1917 Field Edition that Konrad knew his son would recognize, and accompanying the watch a letter reaffirming Konrad's promise to stay out of their lives. He only asked a single favor of his son in return. In the letter, Konrad explained the history of that watch, which his father had carried during first World War and which Konrad himself had worn during the second. He had always meant to give it to Samson before time and circumstances had made it impossible. All Konrad wanted was that Martin pass down the watch and the history that went with it to Gabriel when he was older.
Once he had returned to Odessa, Konrad reviewed the cases again.
Samson had been very careful. Only that first murder, with the woman's close relationship to him and Martin's involvement, carried any links to Samson's identity that Konrad could find. Only those details might even begin to point an investigation his way. Konrad knew he had to act on his information. He could give them everything they would need to find Samson and bring him in. He was even in the position to hand pick the team that would do it. He could hand it over to Haram and his partner, or Ivan, or another pair of agents that he trusted— Only, Konrad didn't think there was anyone he trusted enough for that—to hunt down his son and snare him like an animal, to act as Samson' executioner if he posed too great a threat.
No, if anyone was to perform that task it would have to be Konrad himself. Samson deserved that much from him, at least. It was what a good agent would do—what a good man would do.
By Konrad's own estimation, however, he was neither of those things.
It would have been impossible for all of Samson's crimes to simply disappear—sooner or later, someone would notice. A single folder, though, was easily misplaced. Misfiled. Forgotten. And a single file—the right file—could make all the difference in a case.
That night, in the empty solitude of his apartment, Konrad watched that file burn without satisfaction.
PREV: Chapter Seventeen // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eighteen
Author's Note: And it's a testament to my fucked up brain that an evil voice in my mind kept ruining the part about the watch by throwing out flashbacks of Christopher Walken's scene in Pulp Fiction and sniggering.
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,195
Summary: Two weeks after Claire Bennet's televised leap from the Ferris wheel, the 12th handles it's first case delving into the strange world of specials. Evidence points the investigation toward a former Company Agent, a man Noah Bennet would swear up and down doesn't exist.
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full warnings and details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Seventeen // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eighteen
Konrad & Martin—Brooklyn, New York; 1985
Konrad generally tried to avoid Brooklyn, mostly out of habit.
Immediately after Sarah kicked him out it had hurt too much seeing the familiar places he and his family had once visited. In any case, he had promised to stay out of their lives, and as tempting as it was to contemplate running into Sarah or his sons by accident—real, or manufactured—it would have been not only careless or cowardly, but also impossible cruel to all parties involved.
It had taken something truly significant to bring him back.
Once it had become clear that the ability that erased him from others' memories made him unsuitable for work in the field, Konrad had been reassigned to handling the file archives. Charged with keeping records and organizing information for the Company's agents in the field, Konrad always made a point to perform his own initial investigation using the resources available before passing them on to the agents assigned to a case in the field. It had become a point of personal pride that he could still contribute meaningfully by ensuring their agents would always have the best and most accurate information possible.
Beginning in 1982, a pattern had begun to form in a series of cases overseen by the Company: reports of several specials and suspected specials who had been murdered, all with the same, very distinct MO. As the murders continued over the following years they eventually came to the Company's attention, and Konrad had put his effort into reexamining the cases as a whole, searching for new evidence.
It was in his examination of the earliest case in the series—a woman discovered dead in the parking lot of a diner in New Jersey—that Konrad noticed the first, damning detail which brought the real significance of the murders to his attention. That first murder had occurred in broad daylight, but none of the customers questioned had witnessed the crime take place, or even remembered seeing the victim set foot inside. Still, in their initial investigation, the police had been thorough in documenting those at the scene...
And among the names listed had been that of Martin Gray.
Konrad had long since given up any faith in coincidences, and if it was possible one of his sons had been involved then it became essential for him to know for sure. That need had brought him back to New York City—back to Brooklyn and the shop he had run back in the '50s which inquiries had revealed Martin still owned. He had gone, dreading the answers he might find... And, as was frequently the case for Konrad who had come to almost universally expect the worst, he had not been disappointed.
After more than twenty-five years and the damning truths revealed on the night they had parted, Martin's greeting for him had been as friendly as Konrad might have expected—which was to say not at all—and the story he had to tell about his younger brother had been painful to hear.
Something had happened to Samson, something Martin hardly understood, but whatever it was had scared Samson enough that he had begged his brother to take his son, claiming it was for the boy's protection. Martin had agreed, reluctantly. Only minutes later, Samson's need had proved itself when he murdered the mother of his child. Martin never even knew her name. Martin also didn't know where Samson had gone after that. Martin hadn't wanted to know. He had only hoped that Samson would hold true to his word and stay as far away from Martin and his wife—and the boy, Gabriel—as possible.
It had taken a great deal of begging of his own before Konrad was finally given the chance to meet his grandson.
Gabriel Gray must have taken very strongly after his mother, because looking into his face Konrad couldn't see much of Samson at all. He was a quiet child, shy and a little nervous. Martin thought the boy might have been the sole true witness to his mother's murder, though he didn't seem to remember the event as far as they could tell. In fact, according to Martin, Gabriel didn't seem to remember much about his real parents at all. Martin's wife, Virginia, felt it was a blessing—though after she said so Martin had told her to leave them. She had retreated into the kitchen, leaving her husband to the strange guest he had brought into their home.
As he watched his grandson—quietly absorbed in assembling a picture puzzle—it had struck Konrad painfully that the boy would never know who he was.
Konrad would never be a part of Gabriel's life unless Martin somehow forgave him, and the ability that cursed him would make any kind of meaningful reconciliation impossible. Konrad would never truly be able to make amends for the mistakes he had made with his sons.
Konrad left Martin's home shortly after that. When he did, he didn't bother to say goodbye—they wouldn't have remembered it if he had.
Konrad's entire visit would be forgotten by morning, and the package waiting for Martin at his shop the next day would be a surprise. Tucked inside the package was the old Sylar 1917 Field Edition that Konrad knew his son would recognize, and accompanying the watch a letter reaffirming Konrad's promise to stay out of their lives. He only asked a single favor of his son in return. In the letter, Konrad explained the history of that watch, which his father had carried during first World War and which Konrad himself had worn during the second. He had always meant to give it to Samson before time and circumstances had made it impossible. All Konrad wanted was that Martin pass down the watch and the history that went with it to Gabriel when he was older.
Once he had returned to Odessa, Konrad reviewed the cases again.
Samson had been very careful. Only that first murder, with the woman's close relationship to him and Martin's involvement, carried any links to Samson's identity that Konrad could find. Only those details might even begin to point an investigation his way. Konrad knew he had to act on his information. He could give them everything they would need to find Samson and bring him in. He was even in the position to hand pick the team that would do it. He could hand it over to Haram and his partner, or Ivan, or another pair of agents that he trusted— Only, Konrad didn't think there was anyone he trusted enough for that—to hunt down his son and snare him like an animal, to act as Samson' executioner if he posed too great a threat.
No, if anyone was to perform that task it would have to be Konrad himself. Samson deserved that much from him, at least. It was what a good agent would do—what a good man would do.
By Konrad's own estimation, however, he was neither of those things.
It would have been impossible for all of Samson's crimes to simply disappear—sooner or later, someone would notice. A single folder, though, was easily misplaced. Misfiled. Forgotten. And a single file—the right file—could make all the difference in a case.
That night, in the empty solitude of his apartment, Konrad watched that file burn without satisfaction.
PREV: Chapter Seventeen // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Eighteen
Author's Note: And it's a testament to my fucked up brain that an evil voice in my mind kept ruining the part about the watch by throwing out flashbacks of Christopher Walken's scene in Pulp Fiction and sniggering.
