Heroes: One of Us, One of Them

By TrinityVixen

One of us or one of them? In an episode where character continuity and cohesion are thrown sideways into the land of make-believe, it’s hard to say who falls where.

Volume Three, Chapter Three – “One of Us, One of Them”

We resume immediately following Mrs. Petrelli’s bomb-drop that Sylar is another of her baby boys. (I missed this last time, but how cute is it that, while he’s drugged, Sylar hears rustier, slower clicks from the crazy gears in his brain?) She nuzzles him affectionately. It’s very The Grifters and just as icky. This is for real, folks: Gabriel Petrelli it is and must be because the only people Petrellis cuddle with are other Petrellis. But is Sylar a Petrelli? Mrs. Petrelli swears she is his mother and regrets putting him up for adoption, but why would she do that? Problem with his paternity? Is he Peter and Nathan’s half-brother or their full one? Gotta love the symbolism of those Biblical names either way. That and the power of three: demon (Sylar), sinner (Nathan), and saint (Peter, duh).

(Why is the fallen angel always called “Gabriel”? What about his limited appearances in the Bible and the Apocrypha lends his name to villainy so readily?)

Mrs. Petrelli brings in a red shirt super named Bridget, who has the ability to extract the history from objects, including where those objects have been and who has handled them. And no one thought to call her in previously to pick Sylar’s brain? Even Sylar assumes that’s why Mama P is bringing her in. “What’s she going to do to me?” Sylar wants to know.

Mama P rips out the drug IV running up his nose, which, given his stricken expression and gasp, probably really hurt. She leans in to whisper, “Feed you.” His eyes go wide again, but not quite as murderously as their usual. Mama P walks away while Sylar rips the girl open. (Boy, he recovered fast.) Mrs. Petrelli can get away with sacrificing Company people to Sylar and no one questions this plan? What, she’s the Secretary of the Treasury all of a sudden? If she’s trying to get Sylar on her team, this should do it. Right up until he figures out she has a power and he decides he wants it more than her approval. Remember: crazy, not stupid. Look what happened to Mrs. Gray. Mommy Issues will forestall the inevitable only so long.

All the Petrelli boys are lost. Nathan is newly swamped in his duties as junior US Senator from New York, ungrounded in the confusion because no one can get in touch with Tracy Strauss and because Future!Peter is lurking in his office. Nathan plays a voicemail he received from Peter/Jesse warning him about Future!Peter. To the credit of the actor playing Jesse, he nails all of Milo Ventimiglia’s vocal cadences. I guess he has nothing but time while he’s on the Heroes set, seeing as he doesn’t get to be onscreen as Jesse while Peter is in Jesse’s body. This is a major failing of the show: they have the opportunity to unburden Milo Ventimiglia’s limited acting talent by having his character be in another person’s body. Instead, they’re having him pull double duty. This is a mistake but hardly the worst one of the episode, which is surprising.

The Level Five Breakout Gang’s great plan for mayhem is to rob a bank. They must have been incarcerated on Level Five by mistake because no one so gauchely mundane could be that dangerous. (Like him or hate him, Sylar would never be this louche. Or, he wouldn’t have before this episode at any rate.) Knox cottons that Peter/Jesse is scared by dint of his power being the ability to convert fear into strength. What seems a tremendously limited ability has its practical uses and manages, in Knox’s hands, to seem more menacing than either the German with his control over magnetism (ooh, he can close blinds!) or Flint, the pyrokinetic (look, fire!).

It helps that while Flint and the German are pissing themselves over pieces of paper, Knox is the only one with a real plan. He calls the cops about the heist. Knox wants this to be news because he knows that a certain someone with horn-rimmed glasses will stop by. It’s time for payback, and there’s no better time to go about it than while he’s powered up by the terror of the hostages at the bank. When the German says, “Nein, danke. Ich mag das Geld,” Knox punches a hole through his stomach. I like a villain with motivation, especially as he is also smart enough to see right through Peter/Jesse. Turns out the revenge idea was Jesse’s in the first place; he is Knox’s vill-inspiration. So when Peter/Jesse fails to be sufficiently enthused about killing the crap out of the Company’s best man (not to mention falling for a bluff about Jesse’s personal life that Knox sets up), Knox takes him down.

Speaking of the Company’s best man, Mr. Bennet returns to Level Five to see Mama P. (Level Five is apparently a stone’s throw from my apartment. If I thought that they’d actually shot anything there, I’d have gone to mob to Jack Coleman.) She knew he’d come crawling back when push came to shove.

Mr. B isn’t trucking with this. He gives her the warning finger of doom, enunciating slowly so she knows how pissed off he is: “Let me be clear. I am not here to re-enlist. I am here to make sure that these psychopaths get put back in their cages where they belong. And then I return to my family.” Oh, throw down, Mr. B, throw down!

He demands his old partner in addition to mad respect from Mama P, who informs him that the Haitian is on assignment for her and unavailable. The Haitian still doesn’t have a name? He’s not a dog, for crying out loud. Hell, the only dog on the show does have a name. (Damn right, says Mr. Muggles.) Mr. Bennet reminds her that there are rules here, if she hasn’t completely re-written them since he broke out with all the others. It’s a fair bet she has; just as he lays down the Company policy—“One of us, one of them”—there are some orderlies carting away Bridget’s body under a sheet. (Also, does he not know that Mama P is a super? Because there is no way they can be an “us” against “them” while that is the case.)

Mama P hasn’t thrown all rules to the wind; she has a partner in mind for him. I don’t know why the show attempts to hold us in suspense about who it is, seeing as Sylar is basically the only one left on Level Five after last week. Sylar turns around from washing blood off his hands (that braining is so messy!) to see Bennet gaping at him. Sylar appears equally baffled for all of two seconds before shooting Mr. B one of his creepy-ass grins. Bennet looks adequately MURDEROUS.

This will be about the last time either of them stays in character for the entire episode. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Mr. Bennet’s family is no less potentially explosive at the moment. Meredith and Mrs. Bennet are jockeying for the right to tell Claire what to do. Mrs. Bennet, by dint of being as awesome as her husband, wins: Claire is going to keep pretending to be normal whether she likes it or not. Since Meredith and Claire can’t win against her, they circumvent her orders. Claire still wants to know how to fight and defend herself, and Meredith is available to teach her. You know Claire must have suffered a major head injury lately (and she’s desperate) because she’s asking Meredith to help her. Meredith, who chose to abandon her baby to die in a fire (that she set) and run instead of fighting the Company when they came after her.

Meredith agrees on the condition that Claire tells her why she wants to be a hero so badly. Claire feeds her some bull about wanting to help people, to be a less badass version of her dad. Plus, normality doesn’t match with her hair. Meredith has Claire skive off school for her first lesson. Which consists of choking off the air by burning all the oxygen away until self-preservation panic provokes a confession out of Claire: she doesn’t want to help the good people, she wants to hurt the bad ones. Meredith tries to convince her that it’s not her battle to fight. The only thing Claire is convinced of is that Meredith is one more obstruction to her realizing any agency of her own. She shines off Meredith and her mother both and bolts with her father’s files on the escapees. Good job parenting there, Meredith. If Mr. Bennet doesn’t skin her alive for this, you better believe Mrs. Bennet will.

Presently, Mr. Bennet is throwing a hizzy at Mama P over the ludicrous partnership-with-Sylar plan she’s concocted. “You expect me to work with this animal after what he did to my daughter—your granddaughter? He nearly killed her!” Um, Mr. B? You have a damned good point, but wouldn’t it be better to have this fight not right in front of said attempted murderer? Sylar is standing right there, pouting mightily and looking up like a scolded puppy through his fluffy hair. He is incredulous that Mr. Bennet should harbor such an acidic opinion of him. Because he hasn’t earned any of that vehemence through repeatedly taunting Mr. B about killing his whole family or by violating his daughter’s brain or nothing.

Mama P ignores both of them, insisting that this is a perfect partnership for Mr. B. By which she means that Sylar probably won’t rip the brains out of Bennet’s head. “So your solution is to send the psychopath after the psychopaths,” Mr. Bennet deadpans FOR THE WIN. “He’s a murderer!”

“Then you and Gabriel have more in common than you care to admit.” Mama P thinks this is the last word, but there is a world of difference between the comfortable-with-gray-areas killing Mr. Bennet does and the murders-to-accumulate-more-power Sylar commits. Mama P insists Sylar has been misunderstood and, with a little guidance from Mr. Bennet, he’ll be a good boy yet.

Sylar should be doing cartwheels and singing; they’re forgiving him for his deviance from morality while pointing him in the direction of supers to feed upon. Instead, he seems as dazed by all this illogical shifting of opinion on his behavior as Mr. Bennet, as if he’s really going to consider abiding by this bark-don’t-bite plan Mama P has cooked up. His smirk isn’t quite as psychotic as its usual. Maybe it’s the fluffy-wuffy hair. I need to believe it’s the hair, or else the cognitive disconnect between Sylar from only last episode to now is going to kill me. Mr. Bennet is so stunned by this turn for the stupid, he gives up. Bennet and Gray it is.

It is at this point that Sylar entirely disappears. Forget him, he’s gone. He has been replaced by Gabriel Gray, Good Boy With A Problem. This show has learned nothing from last season and the pit of suck that was a defanged Sylar. Gabriel angsts over whether to believe Mrs. Petrelli about being her son. She assures him it is the truth. After all, hasn’t he always railed against the pitiful fate that would have made him only the son of a watch repairman and a snow-globe-happy ditz? Yes, he has, but that was the point. The point to Sylar’s character is that he was born to mediocrity and convinced himself that he was destined for more than that. Remove his striving narcissism, and Sylar is nothing. Just another victim. He can be redeemed if he repudiates that which has made him formidable: the immoral, murderous drive to acquire more power.

And, god help me, he does. Once, Sylar thought it was a biological imperative that he commit murder and prove his worthiness of survival; now he morally indicts himself as worthless killer, better off contained, even killed. (How badly did Elle scramble his brains?) Mama P is there to rescue him from feeling too bad about it. Her Gabriel is neither a soulless killer nor a monster; he’s a Good Boy who made many (many, many, many) bad decisions. I can see why he’s tempted to play along–it’s a moral win-win for him. Either he can be the immoral killer or be the good boy who’s at the mercy of his ability, of the hunger of it. But he isn’t playing; he’s actually becoming this. Just another victim. Pity poor Gabriel. Ignore poor David, Zane, Dale, Isaac, Ted, Candace, Claire, and the others too unfortunate to even have names.

Mr. Bennet interrupts with news about the bank heist, nods at Gabriel. “Is he ready?” If by ready you mean “has been completely wiped of all major development since before he ever joined the cast,” then yes. They head out to the bank. Before Mr. Bennet commits himself to a dangerous situation with Sylar at his back, he wants Gabriel to know this is all Mama P messing with both of them. (I sincerely hope he is correct or I’m going to break my very expensive computer in a fit of rage.) “Maybe,” says the newly reformed Gabriel, “But aren’t you curious to see how it all plays out?” In his sly smile, he is Sylar again for the briefest moment. Don’t get used to it.

Bennet moves to sideline his eager partner, so, out of nowhere, Gabriel busts out the most awful Nuuu Yaawk accent ever and throws himself into the role of an FBI agent. He seems offended by Bennet’s lack of trust. It is funny, but it’s so, so wrong. Maybe Sylar is genuine about converting to Good Boy status, but he hasn’t had a lobotomy. He knows Bennet has good reason to detest his guts. Bennet’s jaw is on the floor, right next to where I’m still writhing with pained laughter about how completely nuts this is. This isn’t even the same person as the tamed Gabriel. It’s someone with Sylar’s chutzpah and Gabriel’s earnestness. For pity’s sake, he asks Bennet how he takes his coffee. He calls him “Noah.” Fondly! Bennet is agog. It’s his turn to go “Tell me this is a joke, let it be a dream, please dear god let me wake up.” No such luck for either of us, Mr. B.

If Bennet weren’t a consummate professional, he’d just walk away at this point, move his family to the Arctic and never have anything to do with anyone ever again. Instead, he goes to work, strapping himself into a bulletproof vest as a sop to the police when he does the exchange with the Level Five Wrecking Crew: him for all the hostages. He’s going in unarmed, dressed in a useless piece of armor to face some pissed off super villains, all of which Gabriel, who is suddenly concerned for his welfare, points out. Mr. B is at least diverted by this—not as in “I like having this psycho who’s tormented my family as a partner” but in more of a “I enjoy messing with his head and I’m going to enjoy blowing it off as soon as I can” way.

Gabriel almost cries about how dead Bennet is going to make himself. Mr. B: “Well, that’s very touching. A monster cares about my well being.” Wounded, Gabriel spits back that Mr. B doesn’t have to prove he’s more badass than thou. “I am better than you,” Bennet AWESOMES. Sylar: “…” Mr. B is about as ready to buy that Gabriel wants to help as he is to buy stock in Lehman Brothers. Gabriel can work at charming the hostages out of talking to the press about people having superpowers. He Is. Not. To. Come. After. The. Supers. Gabriel is shocked, shocked that Bennet doesn’t trust him to behave himself and not lunge for the super brains after his day-of conversion to team player.

Inside the bank, Knox shoves Bennet around and unburdens himself of his issues about being locked up without trial. Bennet knows he is too awesome to have to tolerate this for long. Peter/Jesse, having been worked over by Knox, begs from the floor for Knox not to hurt Mr. B. When Knox doesn’t listen, Peter loses his temper and accidentally triggers Jesse’s super-shout, blowing Flint, the pyro, away. Realizing he has this power, Peter unleashes another scream at Knox.

The scene freezes on an unfortunate pose with Peter’s jaw hanging open. (Did Milo hurt the muscles in his face? That keeps happening.) At the worst possible time for Mr. Bennet, Future!Peter pops by to restore Present!Peter to his own body. Predictably, Present!Peter is still wrapped up in trying to stop the present crisis, but Future!Peter is only focused on the future. He only stopped by so he could kidnap Present!Peter so he could see for himself why Future!Peter’s been such a douchebag about the future. They disappear.

Time resumes its normal speed, and Jesse, newly in control of his body, joins Knox and Flint in beating on Mr. Bennet. Without losing his cool, Mr. B tells them they should turn themselves in, or else. Knox laughs at this—who does Mr. B think he is? I dunno, Mr. B? That would be good enough for me. Mr. Bennet has another answer: “Just a guy with a partner standing right behind you.”

Yes, the psychotic cavalry has arrived. Gabriel holds Knox at bay and chokes Jesse off from screaming using telekinesis while Mr. Bennet shoots Flint and cuffs him. Bennet pretends that he is mad Sylar disobeyed and came into the bank. Sylar counters that that was Bennet’s plan all along—reverse psychology. THEY HAVE AN HONEST-TO-GOD MOMENT AND I THINK I’M GOING TO CHOKE.

It doesn’t last. As Bennet steps outside with Flint, Gabriel slams the door shut and traps Jesse and Knox inside with him. He turns to Jesse first, crazy clock tick-tocking. He’s so focused on Jesse that he lets Knox run away. Given how terrified people are of Sylar, Knox’s powers might have been to more useful one to steal. Gabriel’s voice drops into the deep baritone of Sylar’s usual madness. While Mr. Bennet gawks and protests through the glass, Gabriel tells him he was right all along: Sylar is just a killer, nothing more, so he is going to get back to it.

Bennet is put into the extremely awkward position of trying to reassure the man that he reviles more than anyone in the world that he doesn’t have to be a murderer, that he is a Good Boy. The camera swings around to see Gabriel’s face. It is blank. There is no intent, no slobbering enthusiasm or determination. He’s a slave, you see, he can’t stop himself, it’s the hunger. If they’re trying to make the case that Sylar can’t control himself, they are two seasons too late. Credit where it’s due, Zachary Quinto transforms himself from helpless and confused back into his standard, heavy-browed menace as Sylar goes for Jesse’s brains. If only any of that conflict had, you know, existed prior to this episode, this might be dramatic. As is, it’s character assassination. Bennet watches the whole thing and is repulsed but not as much as he should be. He seems kind of fascinated, actually, and who could blame him?

When they return to Level Five, sans Jesse or Knox, Mr. B and Sylar put the pyro away together, but Sylar is left alone with Mrs. P when he turns around. She has his prison duds back for him. He’s the only one disappointed in himself: “I guess you were wrong about me.” Mama fix, baby. “We’ll see.” Oh, she will get what she wants from Gabriel, count on that. He docilely goes back to a cell.

The Haitian, back from his errand, and Mr. B watch the entire thing, skepticism and incredulity heavy in their expressions. The Haitian wants to know if he’s being replaced. “Only for a while,” Mr. B says. Then he stops smiling so hard I think his jaw might be breaking. “Just until I find his weakness. And then I’m gonna kill him.” TIGHT SMILE OF BADASS DOOM.

And thank you Nathan Petrelli’s God for that. If the writers are intent upon sabotaging Sylar like this, he’d be better off dead. Seriously, the previews for next week show Gabriel kissing Mr. Muggles and hugging Peter. And I thought this week was character demolition?

Other plots neglected and abused so that the writers might focus on erasing continuity entirely from their villain:

-Sick of people confusing her with Niki, Tracy follows a lead to New Orleans only to find out that Niki is really and truly dead. Micah, poor thing, spots her coffin-side. With his well-honed skills at recognizing who is and who isn’t his mother inside of Ali Larter, he knows she isn’t Niki but only after first, from heartbreak, wishing that she were. He works some computer mojo for her to find a link between her and Niki. They were born in the same hospital on the same day, delivered by the same doctor. Tracy goes to see this Dr. Zimmerman, who greets her with yet another name that doesn’t belong to her then calls her “the one from Beverly Hills.” When she presses him, he admits he knows her: he created her. So Niki/Jessica/Gina, Barbara (the woman Zimmerman assumes Tracy is), and Tracy are his Midwich Cuckoos?

-Matt’s future-painting friend has major artistic blockage because all he can paint are scenes from Matt’s useless, directionless life. I like his art better than Isaac’s even though they’re both really done by Tim Sale. Matt seizes on one that hasn’t happened yet. It shows him and a petite blonde woman smiling and laughing at a baby, presumably theirs. (The woman, in haircut and size relative to Matt, might be Daphne.) Because the future has changed, the scene has to be repainted. When the artist is done, Matt is now holding the same woman’s lifeless body and crying. Matt wants to stop this. The artist offers him a way: eat some psychedelic paste, listen to some groovy tunes, and trip out. Matt’s eyes go future-blind white, and that’s all we care about him this week.

-Hiro and Ando bungle their attempt to retrieve the other half of the formula pretty much exactly the same way they did with the first half. The Haitian is the courier, who doesn’t take kindly to their interference costing him the formula. He takes them back to Level Five to be neighbors with Sylar and Flint. Hiro wishes he were that dangerous. His entire subplot has thus far been an exercise in humiliation and strained humor. And now Daphne’s probably sold the formula that will destroy the world. I’m not worried. If Sylar’s conversion couldn’t shatter reality, nothing can.

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About TrinityVixen: There’s an asterisk on TrinityVixen’scollege transcript that assures anyone who reads it that, though there is no specific major, degree, or certificate for it, she did, in fact, complete some kind of creative writing program as an undergrad. Armed with that symbol of irrelevant experience, she has polluted the internet with her opinions and horrible fanworks ever since (and for quite a long while before). Living poor in New York until she finds a means to become independently wealthy, she must subsist on the juicy meat of fandom. Fandom and noodles. And instant soup.

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