Authors Notes:

Well, It's going to be a fanseries. It starts about a month after series one ends, but Hiro picks back up where he left off. Check back often, as each chapter is a new episode. This episode it finally finished! Anyway, italics within the story are thoughts, whether it's communication telepathy or Matt Parkman over hearing someone.

And I'm not going to bother translating the japanese bits. Babelfish is worth nothing 8D



EPISODE ONE: ARE YOU ON THE LIST?

Mohinder Suresh and Molly Walker, Brooklyn, New York

"I can't find him," sighed Molly sadly, "Mohinder, I can't..."

"Well try again!" Mohinder said sharply, but upon seeing the hurt look in Molly's eyes, he sighed and sat down.

"I'm sorry, Molly, I didn't mean to yell. But Peter was," he was cut off by the beeping of the microwave.

"The popcorn's ready!" Molly exclaimed, a huge smile across her face as she bounced off to retrieve it.

"I suppose I'd better get the movie going then," said Mohinder, mostly to himself as Molly wasn't in the room anymore. As he was setting up the X-Men Final Stand DVD (it was one of Molly's favourites), he heard a faint knocking at the door. He stopped what he was doing and listened. It was repeated, but louder. He called out to wait a second as he made his way to the door.

"Start the movie without me Molly," he shouted out to his unofficial daughter. He opened the door to an impatient looking teenage girl.

"Finally," she said with the attitude that only a teenager can posess.

"May I help you?"

"You sure can," said the girl, "my name is Jennifer Chantrey, call me Jenny, and I believe I'm on a list of yours?"

Surprised, Mohinder tried to recall her name.

"I'm listed as deceased, by the way," Jenny hinted.

It flashed through Mohinder's head that yes, he did remember this, and he ushered the girl inside.

"So, what can you do?" Mohinder asked her as they sat down.

"Well, I read your father's book,"

"No you didn't!" cut in a disbelieving Mohinder. Jenny laughed irritatedly.

"Yes, I did. I know, thirteen year olds reading books on genetic mutations aren't very common. But did anyone say I was common?"

"I guess not, but..." he didn't say anything after that.

"Exactly. Now, do you want the short version or the long version? Of my story,"

"Whichever you want,"

"Short version first then. As far as I know, I'm an orphan as of three weeks ago. And Lord knows it wasn't my mother with the special abilities, so I must've gotten them from my father, who lives somewhere in this country that I'm not entirely used to. Plus I have an arsenal of really cool crap to pull on anyone who tries to hurt me. Take a moment to let it sink in."

"Mohinder, are you gonna have any of this popcorn?" came a voice from the other room, which was quickly followed by a curious looking Molly.

"Who's she?" asked the youngster.

Jenny smiled and walked over to Molly.

"Hi! I'm Jenny. I'm... special. I guess you are too?" She extended her hand and Molly shook it.

"I'm Molly," she smiled. Mohinder seemed concerned.

"How did you know she was special?"

"Pretty obvious, really. Anyway, can I show you my abilities?"

Mohinder nodded, and watched her. She stood next to the window. She waited, then opened it. Before Mohinder knew it, there were green tendrils creeping around his house.

"You... you control plants?" he stammered.

"It's more dangerous than it seems right now,"

"I can imagine," Mohinder laughed. Jenny flicked her hand slightly, causing the plants to quickly retreat from Mohinder's apartment.

"Woah!" cried Molly, "That was really cool! Wait til I tell Micah!"

"You'll tell no one," Mohinder ordered sharply, and Molly fell silent.

"Don't be so mean. Molly, who's Micah?"

"He's my friend. He's special too. He talks to machines," she stated.

Mohinder rolled his eyes. Molly had been told not to tell anyone about special people. She'd been told many times.

"Mohinder?" prompted Jenny. He snapped back into reality.

"There's more,"

"There's more?"

"There's more."

"This is irrelevant, I'm sorry, but you look like someone..."

He didn't say anything for a while. But both girls could tell he was thinking.

"Jenny," he said quietly after a long pause, "who did you say you father was?"

"Well I was kinda hoping he was on your list," she shrugged.

"Molly, search for Peter Petrelli one more time."

The Bennet Family, Queens, New York

Lyal kicked the nearest box. His family had been shuffling from place to place for a month now, and in his opinion it was all Claire's fault. If she wasn't such a freak, they'd still be in Odessa, and he'd have a chance with Lisa (given a week or two, or three, or more). But noooo, she had to be an indestructible weirdo.

"It's nor fair, mum," he whined. Sandra just rolled her eyes and continued sorting cutlery and putting it in drawers. Having been ignored, Lyal, stomped into the next room, flopped into a chair and sulked.

"I wish we were back, too, Ly," sighed Claire, sitting on the window sill.

"It's your fault," he muttered.

"You've told me."

"But it is!" cried Lyal, standing up dramatically.

"You think I chose to be like this?" but Lyal didn't reply. He just glared. Claire rolled her eyes and stormed out.

"Freak," Lyal whispered, turning on the TV.

"Murder in Midland," proclaimed the reporter, "a female victim found a week ago in a hotel in Midland, Texas, is showing eerily similar qualities to two other Texan women, murdered within two months of each other. The woman, indentified as Australian tourist Jennifer Chantrey, is believed to have been killed by the same person as Charline Andrews, a waitress at the Burnt Toast Cafe, and Jackie Wilcox, a heroic cheerleader who saved a mans life in Odessa. We've obtained exclusive pictures of the similarities. Please turn away if you have a weak stomach, as these are not for the faint hearted."

"Keep watching the TV," said a voice from the doorway. Lyal turned to see his father.

"I said watch the TV."

He did so. He saw some of the most disturbing things he had ever seen. All the of the girls had the top of their head missing, with nothing inside.

"Jackie Wilcox... wasn't she Claire's friend?"

"When that man, Sylar, murdered Jackie, he was aiming for Claire."

"I thought you killed him, like, a month ago?"

"So did I."

Niki and Micah Sanders and DL Hawkins, Las Vegas, Nevada

"Baby, I thought I told you to turn the news off," said Niki.

"Who you talkin to, me or Micah?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Niki laughed, "but you should realise he can't watch this stuff, it's too violent for him." She took the remote and switched off the news.

"Mum, I'm ten. I can handle it!"

"No, sweety, you can't." She kneeled down to his level.

"You're a very smart and mature young man, Micah, but you're only ten, and I don't want you seeing mutilated dead bodies! It's really not good for you,"

"It's no worse than what Jessica did," said Micah matter-of-factly.

"Maybe it's best you don't talk about Jessica, Mike," said DL from his chair. Niki nodded in agreement, patting Micah on the shoulder.

"That was a long time ago,"

"Only a month,"

"Yes, but it's never happening again. Jessica's gone and she's not coming back," as if to make sure, Niki looked the the mirror on the wall. She saw only herself staring back.

"How can you be so sure?" Micah asked. An uneasy silence followed.

"Tell you what; lets go rig some games at the arcade. You up for that?"

Micah grinned from ear to ear, "Yay, dad! Can we, mum? Can we?"

"Oh, alright. But go get a sweater. It's cold out."

"Thrill Factor", Devon, England.

"C'mon Jack, we're gonna be late for our own bloody show," urged Kevin.

"I'll just be a minute," yelled Jaxon from the other room. Kevin sighed and started impatiently beating the table with his drumsticks.

"Jesus Christ, Kev, I could here you from in there? Couldn't you wait thirty five seconds?" asked Jaxon disbelievingly.

"Evidently not. We're going now. Ethan and Iain have been loading the bus for ages now, and you've been doing your friggin eyeliner. And according to Iain, Claude isn't a patient bus driver by anyone's standards."

"Okay, I'm going! Why weren't you helping, anyway? Your drumkit's gotta be the hardest the to move."

"Because I'm a lazy bastard!" he exclaimed, "No more questions?"

"Finally," Claude muttered under his breath.

"Now everyone," he announced, "if you piss me off, we're not going to London, or to the airport after that. We'll be going off a cliff. Understood?" He got the bus started.

"I think I rather like this guy," said Kevin.

"I think you rather like i every /i guy," teased Iain, who was slapped a few seconds later.

"Oh, that reminds me, no making out back there either," ordered Claude.

"That's it! He's my new best friend," said Kevin, making his way up to the passenger's seat next to Claude.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" asked Claude.

"Hah! You got rejected," said Ethan in a singsong voice, imitating Kevin's song.

"Don't you dare say the next line, I have drumsticks, I'm warning you," Kevin grumbled, trying (but failing) to sound menacing.

"Really? Well I have a st..."

"DON'T FINISH THAT!" cut in Iain, "It's just too wrong, too wrong."

Jaxon, meanwhile, just sat, staring out the window. 'Wind,' he thought, 'I want wind, like yesterday,'. Nothing happened. But yesterday, he knew he did it, he created a gale force. He just knew he did! Why wasn't it working today? Maybe it was because Kevin was poking him with his drumsticks. No, make that Kevin and Ethan. Jaxon tried to stare out the window and ignore them, but finally he just got a little too irritated.

"Alright! Enough!" he roared. Crash. Loud thunder shook the floor.

"Shit dude, great timing!" laughed Iain, who found this very amusing.

'Yeah, right, timing,' thought Jaxon. Little did he know that Claude was thinking the same thing.

Micah Sanders, Las Vegas, Nevada

"Hey, look what this kid can do," sneered a large, pudgy boy of about 12 years. He had a 'gang' of three other boys behind him, all following his orders. He advanced on Micah without him noticing. Watching, he saw Micah puts his hands on the game, and at least ten tickets were spat out. Without warning, the boy grabbed Micah by the shoulders and spun him around.

"How'd ya do that, huh punk?" he spat.

"Wh-what are you t-talking about?" said Micah, feigning innocence (but not the fear).

"I mean that," he said, as one of his cronies wrenched the tickets from Micah's hands.

"I just won the game," he bluffed.

"Didn't look like it," sneered the boy.

Micah's eyes darted from side to side. He saw no escape, except for:

"Someone, help!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Being a crowded arcade, the older boy was smart enough to let go and bolt. His crew followed. Micah smirked and ran with his tickets.

"Well hi there," Niki smiled as Micah came running up, panting heavily.

"Mum, Dad, I am NEVER doing that again," he stated, "I got caught." Niki smirked and looked to DL.

"What did I tell you?"

"That he was gonna get caught."

"Exactly. A mother knows," she laughed.

"Thrill Factor" and Claude Raines, Somewhere between Devon and London, England

"Try again?" Iain asked, tapping his hairbrush microphone.

"Oh, hell no," Claude whispered to himself.

"What? We're not that bad," said Jaxon defensively.

"You know, I didn't intend for you to hear me," grumbled Claude.

"You're not entirely comfortable with this whole human contact thing, are you?"

"It's not that I'm not comfortable with it. I just don't like it is all. People suck."

"Aww, someone needs a hug," suggested Kevin, waltzing right up to Claude and putting his arms around him from behind.

"You're not entirely sober, are you dude?" inquired Jaxon, head in hands.

"I don't drink the beer. The beer drinks me," drawled Kevin.

"Tell me why you brought it again?"

"The thing latched onto me?" Claude sneered, trying not to swerve the bus into a tree.

"Wasn't talking to you. Drunk guy, where's the beer?"

"Oh lord, tell me you're not drinking it too."

"Shut up. Kevin, where's the beer?"

"Next to my seat," he said, before breaking into hysteric laughter.

With a pathetic determined face, Jaxon marched over to the sixpack of beer and casually opened the three that weren't already open. Kevin, having detached himself from Claude, watched in awe, obviously believing that Jaxon was going to chug it all.

"Go Jack!" he yelled, forgetting they were in a confined space. Jaxon just smirked, opened a window and started pouring the beer onto the road behind them. Kevin, horrified that good beer was going to waste, tried to tackle Jaxon, who simply dropped all six cans. He'd always remember the look of disbelief on Kevin's face as the sixpack somersaulted down the road behind them, like a tumbleweed.

"Dude..." he finaly said, crestfallen. Claude started laughing.

"What the hell, Jax?" said Iain incredulously, "We don't all get legless as quick as Kev, why'd you ruin it for us?" Ethan frowned in agreement.

"Simple. We're playing tonight. No more getting drunk. Get it?"

"Fine! But I'm still hugging Cord," Kevin pouted, trying to walk back over to Claude without stumbling.

"You touch me, I shove your drumsticks where it might turn out you like them," threatened Claude. Kevin backed away. Wise move.

"He's not really gay. He's just... affectionate when he's drunk," Jaxon explained, trying to stop Claude from wanting to kill Kevin.

"He'd better sober up quickly," growled Claude, keeping his eyes on the road.

Ethan snorted. That wasn't going to happen quickly.

Mohinder Suresh, Jennifer Chantrey and Molly Walker, Brooklyn, New York

Shortly after bringing out a map and searching for Peter Petrelli, Molly let out a little squeal and abandoned the search completely.

"Molly... what is it?" asked Mohinder, running to her aid.

"He... he saw me," the girl whimpered. Confused, but attempting to understand, Jenny sat down and watched.

"He's nothing to be afraid of," soothed Mohinder. After wiping tears from her face, she buried it in Mohinder's shoulder. The silence was only broken by Molly's quiet sobbing. After a while, Jenny started thinking aloud.

"So, she finds people, but she tried to find that guy and it worked the other way? That's a pretty cool ability, though," she mused. The others ignored her. She continued.

"Can you find people you know nothing about? Like, just from their names? Because then you could, I dunno, but it'd probably be useful to find everyone on this list," she pointed to the laptop, which was now making it's way through the air onto her lap. Mohinder quickly took it back off her.

"But I wanna read it!" she protested.

"I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with that," he said curtly. Jenny raised her eyebrows questioningly, but got no answer. Mohinder was too busy calming Molly down.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, "but it was just a surprise, that's all. I don't want to look for him again."

Mohinder sighed.

"It's alright, you won't have to, I didn't realise he... is something burning?"

"That'd be my hand," answered Jenny as if she couldn't care less, "so anyway, what can this Peter guy do?"

"What you do," answered Mohinder.

"Mess with vibrations?"

"Not yet, as far as I know. You see, he obviously hasn't met..."

"And it has to do with who he's met how?"

"Well if you're adopting ability from others, who you meet is a very important factor. I would've thought you'd have that figured out by now?"

The look on Jenny's face answered that enough, but she chose to elaborate.

"No no no, you must've misunderstood me. I think my power is messing with vibrations. Light, sound, heat, movement, all sorts of stuff," she demonstrated this by turning the room bright purple.

"Yay!" laughed Molly.

"I can't say I approve of the colour," mumbled Mohinder under his breath. Jenny smirked and returned the room to normal colour, much to Molly's disappointment.

"I see. This is quite an interesting ability you have, Jenny," Mohinder stated, "I'd probably like to run some tests on you at some stage."

"Tests? Like, take out my brain and study it, see how I work? Because I'd have to say no to any cranioectomies," she thought it was very funny. Mohinder cringed at the obvious double meaning towards Sylar.

"You probably shouldn't joke about brain removal in front of others like you. It might bring back... painful memories," he explained quietly.

"Anyway, these aren't those sorts of tests. Just a few injections, maybe an MRI of your head if possible. Nothing invasive."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Jenny shrugged, reaching for a glass of water she'd poured herself (without leaving her chair), "oh, and do you know anywhere I could stay for the night?"

Peter Petrelli, Outskirts of New York

There it was, he could see that young girl again. He could remember the face, but couldn't quite remember where from. Every time she appeared, she seemed to be more and more afraid. Peter had no idea what was happening, but just like everything else that'd happened in the past month, he didn't like it one bit. For starters, he didn't even know if his brother was still alive. He told him to fly away, to save himself, but he didn't listen. He couldn't have survived that blast - could he?

It was getting dark. He had to find somewhere with shelter. He couldn't really handle much more rain and cold weather. After those things he'd done back in Vegas to get money... He shuddered at the thought of them. He wasn't proud, but no one believed who he was. It's amazing how bad it can be when you explode. No cell phone, no ID, no clothes, no nothing.

He was pretty sure he was getting closer to New York now, though. He hoped no one was worrying about him too much. After all, it was his fault. If he wasn't... like he was, it wouldn't have happened. At least Sylar was dead. In Peter's opinion, he deserved more than death after what he'd done to so many, to Mohinder's father, to Isaac, what he tried to do to Claire. He didn't care that he'd tried to do it to him too, it was the innocent that he was worried about, and he didn't consider himself innocent at all. He nearly killed half of New York, and he almost surely killed his brother. His brother, with a disabled wife, two young boys, and a daughter he never got to know.

Hiro Nakamura, Outside Kyoto, Japan. 1671

He looked to the left. He looked to the right. Samurai warriors either side of him, and they looked angry. They were ready to advance. Uttering a swear under his breath, he squinted and got ready to teleport. Stragely, nothing happened. Swearing a little louder this time, he tried again. He was interrupted midway by a loud war cry from one of the samurai. He turned his head sharply.

"Kensei?" he asked in disbelief. Kensei didn't hear. He was too busy watching the sky. Hiro looked up too as it got darker.

"An eclipse," he whispered, watching it. It didn't last very long. The moment it ended, the men were all back to warring with each other. Thinking on his feet, Hiro scrambled up a nearby tree and peeked through the branches. He stopped watching very quickly, however, as he didn't really care to watch men being stabbed in the eye.

Mohinder Suresh, Molly Walker and Jenny Chatrey, Brooklyn, New York. (Present Day)

"Are you sure you want me to stay here? You barely have enough room for the two of you as it is," said Jenny, slowly realising the rudeness of her words, "Oh, I didn't mean..."

"It's alright. I know you don't mean any harm. But I would rather you stayed here, I wouldn't want to send a thirteen year old out on her own, and I don't know anyone else who could take you in. Stay," Mohinder insisted. Jenny shrugged an 'ok' and went back to chatting to Molly. Mohinder smiled and left the girls to talk as he packed up the movie Molly had just finished watching. Or rather, as he was starting to pack up, but then was interrupted by the phone.

"Hello? This is Mohidner Suresh speaking," he answered, wondering who'd be calling at this time of night.

"This is Noah."

"Noah? I presume there's something important, you never call just to say hi."

Noah Bennet, Queens, New York.

"Damn straight there's something important," he hissed into the phone, lowering his volume as Claire skipped past the bedroom.

"Well, what?" said Mohinder's voice from the other side of the phone, sounding quite taken aback at Noah's sudden tone change.

"Hide the list. Alert everyone. Sylar is back."