Disclaimer: We don't own Heroes.

A/N: Wow. Let's begin this journey together. This is a story called Blondes. It's based off of canon with some AU scenes and back story. It's gonna be fun. I'm excited. Graver's excited. We worked so unbelievably hard on this story and we were countries apart so it was definitely hard. But, here it is. Please leave us reviews. We wrote it for you. We want to know what your questions are, what your thoughts are, if you hate it, love it, how it could be better. We need to know. So, please tell us. It's encouraging. And tell all your friends too. We want everyone to read this story. :) Love, Dani & Mia

Prologue:

Arthur knew exactly what he was doing. He had it planned for years, his "death" and his return to power. What he hadn't planned was the arrival of his long-lost son onto his doorstep, or the arrival of Elle Bishop (who looked just like her mother) to the same doorstep. But he was a creative man and he knew how the situation would be used to his advantage. He noticed the chemistry and he was going to ignite it. The best way to achieve that spark was to lock them in a room together.

Besides, there was no better way to piss of his beloved wife than to make the things she feared the most come true. And he caught it all on tape. He would send it to her, maybe with a bunch of roses and some pictures of their other sons, just to remind her that he was in control. To remind her that she was powerless to stop him. He was going to win. This was his Ace.

He was one step closer to pushing his sons over the edge. He was a powerful man and with the right maneuvering, he was sure it would work to his advantage.

....

Angela paced around her office, between the high mahogany cabinets and golden figurines that not so long ago had belonged to someone else. She wasn't an anxious woman by nature, but life as Arthur Petrelli's wife had made such behavior almost a habit. She'd managed to learn how to handle the strain over the years, how to regain some of the control, often by manipulation. She could smile through the pain, hide what she didn't want others to see, convince them that what they saw was wrong. A woman had to have her secrets after all.

But her secrets kept being revealed, starting with Gabriel. She was losing control and she felt it. This was not something she did often and saying she didn't like it, was an undestatement.

Her eyes crossed the open file on her desk. Secrets, all secrets. Everything she was forced to do to keep this from happening, constantly failing, the course resettling towards that future she saw, as if driven by a dark force.

But she always suspected it. She shouldn't be as surprised. This was just another move by her dear old not-so-deceased husband.

It was perfect really. Too perfect to not be from him. It was just waiting there, on her laptop, open and loaded for her to watch. Waiting here on the the same day she recieved the news of the other two sons, the news in that manilla folder on her desk. And two dozen red roses. She hated this, now and then. She had to react. What mother would want to see the truth, especially when she's run from it for so long? The video sent her over the edge, just as he knew it would. Besides, it was something only he would flaunt at her, only he could hurt her with. Her sons.

It was all set into ruin when that monster from the future decided to come and trade places with her youngest son. And just as she had feared, his movements left behind a trail of dead butterflies that even Daniel Linderman could not have ressurrected. The damage was already done. One by one, she would lose them.

With one angry look at the screen, she slammed her laptop shut. Gabriel, her last hope of bringing some sense into this family, the one with the power to create and destroy, was lost to that electric blonde. The potential Angela had seen in him, that desire to be special, that hunger... Elle Bishop would smother it all. How she was still around, Angela didn't know. She had her reassigned after learning her placement, even fired her from the Company to keep her away from him. Yet, there they were.

There was a ringing in Angela's ear. She looked at her phone. Nathan. Her first born, the one she'd protected the longest. She'd spend her youth cleaning up his messes, preventing the future she saw for him. The high school girlfriends, Meredith, baby Claire — all threatening to ruin his career, the brilliant future she had dreamt of. She was ready to do anything for him, give her own life for him or take another. And she almost did. It was all worthless. She had saved him only to see him fall again in the same trap over and over again.

Angela looked across her desk at the picture of her smiling son, her youngest, most powerful. He was never meant to turn out this way. Angela knew that it was nothing that she had done. She had encouraged him to choose his own path, let him forget about all the ambition, never learning that he was the most powerful. The most special. She had tried, had given everything to change what she saw him becoming.

She never really believed he would become what he was now. She doubted him all along. But here he was, strong and powerful and she could place no claim in that. It was not because of Angela. It was because of her. Her need, her life, her love, her spirit. They shaped Peter into what he was. From that first moment he saw her on that canvas, she was the death of him. It was his destiny. She had given him life and she would take it away again and again, indestructible or not.

Angela sat down and looked at the line of pictures on her desk. Her three sons and their golden brides, the ones she dreamed about years ago, the ones that would destroy them. They were smiling, victorious, waiting in a line before her as if they had won.

She laughed in the irony. All the Petrelli men had chosen a blonde.

Maybe it was a joke. Maybe it was a coincidence...No. It was none of that. It was in their blood. She didn't want it for them, that weakness, that path, those problems hidden under the golden glimmer. But no matter what she wanted for them, she could not protect them from their hearts.

Her phone rang again. She pushed ignore.

In a line, when one fell, all fell. Like dominoes.