This is my very first Heroes fanfic! I am so excited! I hope you enjoy.
It was written as an alternate second season (no offense to the actual second season; I just thought it would be fun to write my own), and naturally, I don't own Heroes. The story is almost complete as I type (I'm at fifteen chapters, and I plan around eighteen or nineteen), so the plot and ending are already decided, but suggestions are still welcome.
Main Characters: Peter Petrelli, Nathan Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura, Claire Bennet, Phoebe Agnew (original character), and some surprise appearances
The rating is for violence. Sylar isn't a very nice person.
Chapter One (The Dreamers of Dreams)
Phoebe opened her eyes. The sun was shining.
She could still feel her dream pumping through her blood, dark and heavy like smoke, and she shivered. She sat up slowly, brushing her reddish blond hair back from her face with a sigh. Just a dream, Phoebe. Just a dream… She looked down curiously at her long-fingered hands. How strange it would be if that dream were true! Then she shook her head. "Time to get up, ye denizen of La La Land!" she chided herself, swinging around to dangle her legs over the edge of her bed.
The darkling dream stayed with her as she took a shower, as she dressed and combed her hair. She walked frowning out of her bathroom, pausing to look at the huge bookcase that devoured one wall of her room. "Too much reading does this sort of thing to you," she told herself, crossing her arms. "Makes you crazy."
"Phoebe! Are you awake?" a voice called from across the hall.
"I'm up, Mom," Phoebe replied, crossing the book-littered floor to her door. She peered out into the hall, spying her mother walking toward the kitchen. "What's for breakfast?"
"Well, I made grits for your dad, but I know you don't like those," Emily Agnew replied. "So you can have some toast and oranges if you like."
Phoebe smiled. Her picky eating habits had been her mother's bane for her entire twenty-four years. "Thanks, Mom."
Emily walked back down the hall, peering worriedly at her daughter. "You don't usually sleep in this late, Phoebe," she said, hands on her hips. She raised one eyebrow. "Is this what college does to you?"
Phoebe smiled wearily and shook her head. "No, Mom." Her throat tightened at the word "college." She had abruptly quit the university, one semester before her Master's degree in English. "It's just--"
"Honey, you don't have to explain yourself," Emily insisted, smiling tenderly at her daughter. "You can tell me about it when you're ready."
Sure, Mom. How's this sound? I quite college because I think either I'm going crazy or I belong with the X-men. Take your pick. "Thanks, Mom." She managed a weary smile. "Toast sounds good. Grape jelly?"
Emily winked. "Always."
Phoebe followed her mother into the big, sunny kitchen. She paused for a moment in the doorway, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, memories of her childhood haunting her pleasantly. She opened her eyes. "Has Dad already left?"
"Yes. Phoebe, it's almost ten o'clock." Emily narrowed her green eyes on her daughter. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Phoebe nodded, crossing her arms. "Yes. I'm fine." She sighed. "'Dark have been my dreams of late,'" she quoted.
"Lord of the Rings?" Emily asked.
Phoebe nodded. "Lord of the Rings."
"Well, come sit down, honey, and you can tell me all about your dark dreams," said Emily, bustling about the kitchen. "And I'll put extra jelly on your toast."
"Okay, Mom," said Phoebe, wondering frantically which parts of her dreams to leave out. "Sounds good. Do you want me to help you with anything?"
"Sit down, Phoebe," Emily insisted. "It's your first morning home from college. I am quite happy to fix your breakfast." She began slathering butter and jelly on a warm piece of toast. "So when do you start your job at Union Wells?"
"Next month." Phoebe crossed the tile floor to the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of chocolate milk. "It's perfect timing. They had an English teacher put in her month's notice right about the time I decided to…" She swallowed. "…Come home."
"Did you hear about all the crazy things that happened up there a few weeks ago?" Emily turned around and set a plate of toast and sliced oranges on the table. "Sit down, Phoebe."
Phoebe sat sheepishly, taking a sip of milk.
"Always so restless," Emily teased good-naturedly. She sat across from her daughter, sliding the plate across the table. "So… Do you want to hear about it?"
"Yes. Tell me." Phoebe grabbed a piece of toast and bit off a piece, eyes on her mother, curious.
"One of the cheerleaders was killed--murdered," Emily told her. "Another barely escaped with her life. It was terrible."
Phoebe's eyes, green like her mother's, widened, brows raising. "Are you serious? Maybe I should be looking into another job…"
Emily waved a hand at her. "The one who did it isn't even in state anymore--at least, that's what I hear. For awhile, they were suspicious of some other guy, the brother of a politician from New York. Then they found out that he was a hero. If he hadn't been there, the cheerleader who survived wouldn't have."
"Wow." Phoebe chewed and swallowed a delectable bit of orange. "That's crazy."
Emily leaned forward, smiling conspiratorially. "I heard that some things happened that night that have never been explained. The surviving cheerleader got away without a scratch. And so did her rescuer, that young man who happened to have fallen five stories. It's almost… supernatural. Like X-men or something."
Phoebe choked on her orange.
"Honey, are you alright?" Emily asked.
Phoebe swallowed the offending bite, eyes watering. "Fine, Mom." She smiled. "I really missed our breakfasts together when I was at the university."
Emily reached across the table to pat her daughter's hand. "Me, too." Then she stood. "You said you have a lot of money saved back from your job at the college. Maybe you should take yourself out shopping, buy yourself some nice things."
Phoebe glanced up at her mother. "Why don't you come with me?"
"I've got to go with the church ladies to Miss Weston's house," Emily explained. "She needs a little cheer. And so do you. Go to town. Spend big bucks. That'll make you feel better."
Phoebe lifted her glass of chocolate milk, staring down into the murky brown depths of it. "Good idea, Mom. Maybe I will…"
Emily bit her lip, studying her daughter closely. "Do you want to tell me about your dreams now?" she asked quietly.
Phoebe lifted her head and met her mother's eyes steadily, green for green. "Yes," she whispered. "I do." She took a deep breath. "In my dreams, I'm running through this… dark place. There are… gates…" She shrugged. "I don't know where I am. These gates keep closing, and I get trapped. So I call for him."
"Him?" Emily tilted her head to the side.
"Yes. Him." Phoebe leaned forward, tossing her long hair back over her shoulders. "I don't know who he is, but I know that I need him. Finally, I come to this gate, and there's someone behind me. And suddenly, I reach out with my hands, and I…" She held out her hands, stretching her fingers wide. "I open the gate. Without touching it. And then I find the way out. Only, the way out is barred, gated. And for some reason, I can't move this gate like I did the other one. And that… person is behind me. And I suddenly realize it's not me they want. It's him. The one I need. So what do I do? Do I keep calling for him and hope he comes and rescues me, or do I let myself get caught at the gate so that they don't get him?" She sighed and leaned her head on her hands. "I keep having this dream… Almost every night."
"Oh, honey." Emily sighed and crossed her arms. "Have you… seen a movie or read a book like that?"
Phoebe smiled wryly. "No. I wondered for awhile if it was my reading that was doing this to me, that maybe I was driving myself crazy with my own imagination. Or maybe it was the stress at school… I don't know." She looked down at the table, at the wood grains she used to see faces in as a child. Then she met her mother's eyes again. "Mom, I think this thing might be real."
"Really?" Emily leaned back in her chair, eyes wide.
"I was walking in the parking lot at school, a few days before I decided to leave, and…" Phoebe closed her eyes. "This car came barreling around the corner, going way too fast for a parking lot, coming right toward me. I held out my hands and…" She opened her eyes and bit her lip. "I stopped the car. Without touching it."
Emily blinked.
"Mom, I stopped that car." Phoebe stood. "With my hands held out. Like this." She stretched out her arms. "It was like… the strength was coming from inside of me, and I pushed it out, and the car stopped." The realization of what she had just done hit her hard and she sat quickly. "I'm sorry, Mom. You probably think I'm crazy."
Emily stood. "I'm not really sure what to think, dear. You just… go shopping and have fun, okay?" She moved around the table to stand behind her daughter, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, Phoebe, however strange you are."
"I love you, too," Phoebe said quietly. "Have fun with the ladies from church."
Phoebe remained at the table as her mother left the house, looking down at the faces on the table. And then she wondered… This cheerleader at the high school and the young man who had rescued her… Maybe they were strange, too, like her…
Phoebe dreamed again. This time, she was walking through a shopping mall and she realized it--her dreams about the gates had been about mall security doors! Her dark dreams had all taken place in the same shopping mall. And as she walked through this one, she suddenly realized that she was alone.
Her cell phone rang, making her jump, and she quickly answered it. "Hello?"
"Phoebe!"
"Sasha?" She quickly recognized the voice of her friend from New York.
"Phoebe, you've got to come help me! I need you!" Sasha was sobbing.
"Where are you, Sasha?" Phoebe asked. She gasped as the lights of the nearest store suddenly went out.
"I'm in a shopping mall. In New York. Come quick!"
Phoebe hung up her phone, green eyes wide. Slowly, she turned to face the recently darkened shop. The gate had closed over the entrance, and Sasha was standing behind it, slender, pale fingers reaching through the links in the gate, her blind brown eyes filled with tears.
"Sasha!" Phoebe cried. "I'm right here!" She rushed toward her friend.
Suddenly, a hooded man grabbed Sasha from behind, pulling her back into the shadows of the store. "No!" Phoebe screamed, flinging herself against the gate. The sprinklers started going off all over the mall. And Sasha was gone.
Gasping, Phoebe stepped back from the gate, into the falling water. It swirled around her, never touching her, but soaking everything else.
"Phoebe."
She turned, water rising around her.
And he was there, the one she needed.
"It's you," she sobbed, rushing toward him. She stopped inches from his face, staring at him, shivering.
"Phoebe, you know where to find me," he told her, dark eyes steady and intense. "You have to come."
Phoebe nodded frantically. "I will." She reached out to touch his face, suddenly overcome by an urge to feel him.
He stepped back from her, hands in his pockets, tossing his head to clear his eyes of the strands of dark hair that had fallen over them.
"Come back!" she cried. "I need you!"
And the water touched her, soaking her, drowning her…
Walking along the streets of the small Texas town, Phoebe tried to forget the dream. She smiled and waved at old friends from her past, purchased a few books at the bookstore, ate a quesadilla in the square. But it was not enough. The dream still followed her. She could not shake the feeling that, somehow, blind Sasha Kent was in danger. Sitting at an umbrella-shaded table in the square, she reached into her pocketbook for her cell phone…
… and it rang.
Quickly, she snatched it up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Phoebs. It's Sasha."
"Sasha!" Phoebe nearly fell out of her chair. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, Phoebe. How are you?"
Phoebe sighed. "Great. Just… weird."
"Nothing new, then?" Sasha joked.
Phoebe laughed awkwardly. "You know me," she said vaguely. "So… What's up?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to come see me for a few days." Sasha's soft voice was tense with some strong emotion. "I have some news for you."
"What is it?" Phoebe questioned impatiently.
Sasha laughed. "You have to come see for yourself, silly."
"Sasha… You know I can't afford a trip to New York."
"I know," said Sasha steadily. "That's why I mailed you an airplane ticket and a nice supply of twenties."
Phoebe's eyebrows raised. "Sasha… I can't take your money."
"Phoebe…" Sasha giggled. "Alright, I'll tell you what's going on--because I know you'll jump at the chance to be here as soon as you hear. Phoebe--I'm getting married."
"Wow! That's awesome!" Phoebe exclaimed excitedly. "Brad proposed?"
"Brad proposed!" Sasha cried joyfully.
"That's--"
Phoebe, you know where to find me. You have to come.
Phoebe blinked, startled to hear his voice so clearly in her mind. She took a deep breath. "Sasha, I'm coming up there. When will the tickets be here?"
"Today!" Sasha exclaimed. "I mailed them day before yesterday. I knew you'd say yes!"
Phoebe smiled and continued chatting with Sasha about the impending wedding. But as she talked, her mind strayed to the man from her dreams, the one she needed. She had a strong feeling that she would find him in New York, too.