So, I just re-watched season one of Heroes, between episodes of Merlin season five. This is the result. Thanks to She Was Waiting, my wonderful beta and the one who helped me come up with this idea. Also, I own neither show. Enjoy!
Isaac Mendez looked around at his first showroom. Simone had managed to book this gallery for one night, in an attempt to earn enough money to send him to a good rehab center. She promised that some of her richest clients would be there. Even a representative of Mr. Linderman, whoever he was. She'd been quite excited about him. The gallery was large, and displayed almost all of his best paintings. Of course, he kept his favorites back in his loft- Simone's favorites, really. A reason to have her over. There were men and women, all dressed up in suits and nice dresses, as though this were a real gallery opening. Isaac himself was shifting his weight, uncomfortable in the suit he had borrowed from a friend. Simone had demanded it.
But one man stood out. He looked very out of place, looking at a newer painting on the far side of the room, in his worn jeans and long-sleeved shirt. A red scarf was wrapped around his neck, and his grin was practically lighting the painting all on it's own. The young man, no more than twenty-five, appeared to have been there for a while, judging by the disdainful glances from the woman in the dark green dress to his left. After a moment, Isaac figured out what it was about the artwork that had caught the man's eye. It was an unusual piece, one he had only done last week, after shooting up. It showed a long-haired man in a suit talking to a younger, dark-haired man wearing a read scarf. They were gesturing at the painting behind them, one that portrayed the exact same thing. When Isaac had come down from his high, he had thought the painting looked a bit like an infinite mirror effect, each painting within a painting getting smaller until you couldn't see it anymore. He had also thought that the long-haired man looked quite a bit like himself. It certainly looked like him. But the second man... He was identical to the boy staring at it now, down to the clothes he wore.
He approached the man- a potential buyer? No, he didn't look like the people who had come in to but, showing off their wealth where they could- and stood beside him. A glance confirmed what he had noticed across the room. His eyes were bright blue, his skin pale, and his hair black. Just like the man in the painting. He turned to Isaac with a friendly smile. "Hi. You're the artist, aren't you? Isaac Mendez?"
Isaac nodded, smiling back. "Yes, that's me. I guess you're enjoying this particular piece. You seem quite interested in it, Mr...?"
"I am, yes. I guess you can see why." He gestured to himself, then to the man in the painting, either ignoring or not hearing him ask about his name.
Isaac laughed quietly. "Yes, I can definitely see why. It's hard to miss. What a coincidence."
"Yeah..." The man nodded slowly. "Coincidence." He watched Isaac, long enough to make the artist shift uncomfortably. "Sorry," he added, when he noticed. "You just...look familiar. You remind me of- Have we met before? I mean, you did paint us having this conversation."
"Well, yeah, I guess I did." Isaac laughed. "But no, I'm pretty sure we haven't met." The stranger's face seemed to fall slightly. "Sorry?"
The younger man shook his head. "No, it's fine. You just- Nothing. It's just coincidence. Anyway, there's another painting of yours I want to see. I was hoping you'd have it on display tonight. 'The Past Reunited'. Is that out?"
Isaac raised an eyebrow. "You knew my work enough to request something? How on earth did that happen?" The boy shrugged as they started across the room.
This painting was bordered by what looked like a camera, as though the image was a photo on the display screen. There were six men and a woman. The woman, whose expression reminded him of Simone, was leaning against the chest of a man with curly read hair. They were watching each other with loving eyes. Next to them were the dark-haired man- in a blue scarf this time- and an athletic looking blonde man. They looked as they had just pulled away from a hug (and judging by their blushes, Isaac imagined it had been a long one). There were three other men, a kind looking giant, a shorter black man with an easy smile, and a roguishly handsome man who had lived near his old flat. They appeared to be laughing at a joke- Isaac would place money on the teller being his old neighbor- at the hugging men's expense.
He had always liked this painting. It made him smile.
It was an older painting. One of the first he had made under the influence, back before he moved. Maybe that was why he had snuck his neighbor into his work. His drugged mind had found an aesthetic, familiar face to bring the painting together.
"An old friend told me about this." The stranger was smiling fondly at the work, as though it meant more to him than it did to Isaac. "Said he'd been to your place a few times and seen it. That's really why I came here, to be honest. To see this." Isaac noticed the boys hand twitch as though it wanted to reach out and touch the painting, though it held itself back. The blonde one. This boy was looking at the blonde man, wanting to touch his image, stroke his face. Perhaps to prove that it was really there.
Isaac blinked. He didn't know that. It could have just been a nervous tick, or he could have been thinking of the girl, or any of those men.
"It... This painting reminds me of old friends. And new ones." The boy grinned in a way that once again lit up the room.
"Really? More coincidences? I mean, that looks just like you again." Isaac smiled back.
The boy nodded slightly. "Yeah. Um, if you don't mind me asking, where did you get the idea for this painting? I mean, it's clearly a group of friends, maybe old friends. But why call it 'The Past Reunited'?"
"Oh." Isaac paused. If he had been speaking to one of the wealthy socialites who had come to look at his work, he guessed he'd have to come up with some sort of explanation. But this man... Maybe he could be honest with him. "Well, I wasn't really myself when I painted it. Or when when I named it, really. But... I don't know. It just...fit, you know?" He shrugged.''
The stranger looked at him curiously. "How were you not yourself?" There was a moment where Isaac thought the boy look expectant.
Isaac glanced at the painting, too ashamed of his habit to meet this strange man's eyes. "I tend to do my best work when I'm... distracted." He turned back just in time to see the stranger glance at his jacket covered arm. Isaac tugged at his sleeve automatically.
"Oh. Distracted." The younger man shifted his own sleeve, tugging it up to reveal old track marks. "I've been distracted before. Thought I was going mad, and I thought the distraction helped. But an old friend helped me to get clean." He smiled. "Do you have someone to help you, Mr. Mendez?"
"Call me Isaac, please." He returned the smile. He was grateful that this boy hadn't judged him for his habit. "And yes, I do. Simone is helping me." He waved to his girlfriend, who rolled her eyes, but smiled and returned the wave. "She set this whole thing up. A chance to get my art out into the real world. It should earn me enough to pay my way through, well. A place to help me concentrate." He glanced over as the woman in green walked past, hoping she wasn't listening. There was something about her, this woman with nearly black hair and bright green eyes. The stranger that Isaac had been talking to noticed her too, though he was obviously doing his best to ignore her. She seemed determined to do the same.
"That's good," the boy in the scarf said cheerfully once she'd passed. "I wish you luck with that. I really do. But..." He glanced out the nearest window at a man- was that Isaac's old neighbor? The one in the painting?- who was leaning against a lamppost. "This may be an odd question- no, this is an odd question- but... When you were distractedfor this painting, and the other one with me in it, did you...imagine something about me? Like a memory of a different time, or something?"
Frowning, the artist tried to meet his gaze. "How could I have memories of you? I've never met you before."
"Maybe not. But you've painted me. Twice. And I can name almost everyone in this painting. That man," he pointed to the largest in the group, "is Bill Taylor, though we call him Percy. He lives just outside of the city. That man is Christopher Winn, but he goes by Leon. He's from Wales. He moved here a year ago after he met Madison." He gestured at the woman in the red-head- Leon's- arms. "Um, there's Joseph, but I call him Elyan." That was the black man. "I haven't met him yet," he pointed at the blonde man he'd been fascinated with earlier, "but I know-"
"Stop. Just stop." The man did. "You know them?" Isaac received a nod in return. "But... They're not real people. I just made them up when I painted them. I must have."
"No, Isaac, I don't think you did. I think you started to remember. We haven't had you since our first time around, Lance. I think you came straight here through the Veil, so you couldn't come back with us-" The boy's quick words were cut off.
"What on earth are you talking about? Remember what? Who's Lance? What veil?"
The stranger sighed. "Nevermind. Ignore me. It's not important. I'm just some kid who wandered in off the street. Nothing more than a recovering addict." He shrugged. "I just thought, you know, you might find me insightful. I should have known it wouldn't work that way. My apologies, Mr. Mendez, for taking so much of your time. I'll get out of your hair now." He offered a hand to shake, his smile barely disguising his disappointment. But the artist could see through it.
Isaac took the hand, shook it, but didn't release it. "I hope you realize just how insane you sound."
The boy's smile grew more natural. "Yeah. They always say that. Then they remember. Look, I really should get out of your way. Let you talk to your future investors, and all that. After all, we can't have you getting...distracted anymore."
The painter couldn't help but smile back. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed. No one else here is very interesting. Simone might get upset, but..." He shrugged.
A laugh drew another smile from the confused artist. "I could point out one very interesting woman here. But you should honor Simone's wishes, I think. She probably knows what's best about this kind of event. She'll only help you. I'll come by later tonight, though. After your fundraiser thing is over, okay? I'd love to buy this painting. It's...hopeful." The boy's eyes were once again drawn to the blonde man he'd just pulled away from in the painting. "I know that someone might buy it before I get back, but that would be for the best. I don't have much money yet, so I don't have much to offer. Soon, but not yet."
He received a shake of the head in response. "No. This one's yours. If only to shut you up about the remembering and whatever." Isaac grinned. "And no one else has looked at it twice, and it does have you in it. I'll have Simone hold it for you."
The boy blinked. "Really? I can have it? I'll definitely buy it, put in money for the effort, but you won't get as much as if one of them were paying." He waved at the men and women wandering the room.
Isaac smiled and the stranger's overjoyed grin returned. "It's yours. It's my work, I should get some say in where it goes. Just let me have your name to give to Simone."
"Avery Williams," he answered cheerfully. "But my friends all call me Merlin." The glance sent Isaac's way was expectant once more.
"Merlin? Like the wizard from the King Arthur stories?"
Merlin nodded. "Exactly like. Well, except that he was a warlock, not a wizard. But yes. Thank you so much, Isaac. Really." He grinned widely, all but skipping in place with joy. "I'll come by later to get it, okay? Bye!" Merlin started to leave before turning back to whisper in Isaac's ear. "That woman. In the green dress. Talk to her. She'll definitely buy. And...tell her that I said- Merlin said that I meant it last time. What I offered." The boy practically ran out of the gallery, grinning from ear to ear. Isaac saw him join the man at the lamppost, who tossed his long hair out of his face.
"Is it him?" Isaac heard the man ask. "Really him?"
"Yes. Definitely him," Merlin replied. "He doesn't know it yet, but he is. I'm going to talk to him tonight when I come to get the painting I'm buying-"
"Buying! You're flat broke, M!" The man- his name was Eli, Isaac remembered- threw an arm around Merlin's shoulders. "And I'm not lending you anything."
"I know, Gwaine. But I can get to my old bank account, from last time. I mean, if we hurry. The bank closes in an hour, so... But he needs it." Merlin tugged his sleeve absently. If Eli-or Gwaine, rather- noticed the movement, he didn't comment. "I think remembering who he is will help more, but let's take this one step at a time. Alright? Besides, I think it's going to be different for him from all of us. I'll have to take my time with it."
Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just be careful. Leon's happy with Gwen. Bringing Lancelot back could...change a few dynamics."
"I know, I know. He does have a girlfriend though. That could make things easier." The men started walking away from the window. "Oh, but guess who I saw in there."
Isaac lost track of their conversation as they walked away except for Gwaine's exclamation of, "-the hell? You just left Morgana in there? Are you nuts!?" He shook his head. Those two were definitely crazy then. He chuckled quietly to himself, then told Simone to mark the painting as sold to Merlin. She gave him a look, to which he only replied with a shrug.
She told him that Mr. Linderman's representative had already marked three for purchase. When he saw the offered prices, he had to force himself to not dance for joy. That was more than enough for rehab. He cheerfully started his rounds of the gallery again.
This time, he made sure to stop and talk with that woman in the green dress. She really was beautiful. He introduced himself, ignoring the half expectant, half worried look she gave him, as though waiting for him to remember some terrible wrong she'd done him. But he had never met this woman in his life. So he helped her find a painting that suited her.
She finally decided on a small piece he'd done only a week and a half ago. It showed two pale hands clasped, one a man's, the other a woman's. On the woman's hand was a ring. The face was a triangle with swirls branching off each point. The man wore a very worn leather bracelet, the same symbol branded into it.
Just before the woman left, Isaac passed on the message from Merlin, not sure what it meant. The woman froze, looked at her painting once more, then smiled. "When you see him again," she said quietly, "tell him I accept. Please." Then she was gone.
The rest of the night passed slowly. He wasn't sure why- whether it was the message he had to carry, or the previous conversation, or some other reason- but he was excited to see that strange boy again. That Merlin.
So there you have it. Please review. If you do, I might add more to it. When I finish my next chapter of Full of Surprises, of course. Thanks!
Aralana