Title: Of light and shades

Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, otherwise Elle Bishop would still be around...

Characters: Elizabeth Porter, Gabriel Gray/Sylar, Peter Petrelli; other Heroes will make an appearance

Rating: T

Beta: vysed and Kathryn Shadows

Summary: Elizabeth is a former ballerina gifted with empathy, and an old friend of both Gabriel Gray and Peter Petrelli. But one day, years after Elizabeth left New York, Sylar accidentally kills Lizzie's fiancé, and begins coveting her ability too...

***

Prologue

Welcome to the best day of my life!

…Ok. Sorry for my pathetic attempt to sound sarcastic. I definitely have to work on that.

I'm currently in a hospital bed, and my friends just left me to get something to eat. Doctor's order. Since that man invested me with his car they never left me for a second, so it was a proper lunch in the hospital mess, or an IV in the arm.

I've been lucky, or so everyone says. I'm grateful to God for saving my life, but I don't feel lucky with a dislocated shoulder, a head trauma a broken knee and other minor injuries. To top the situation, Peter said I was unconscious for more than 24 hours.

I remember the accident. I was walking down the street listening to The Blue Danube on the IPod, with my keys already in my hand, ready to relax in the bathtub after a real hard day. I waited for the green light and I crossed the street like I did every day in the last four years. My necklace chose that moment to break.

When I got up, that car hit me full force.

My roommate saw everything from the window, and he told me that for a moment he feared I was dead. The drunken bastard didn't stop to see what he did, but I know police captured him while I was still unconscious.

I also remember my friend trying to keep me awake, but the only think I could think of in that moment were the new pointe shoes in my room, that I bought in the most expensive shop in New York. I wanted something special to celebrate… after my dance company did The Nutcracker I received so many positive reviews. The New York Times praised my interpretation in the leading role and defined me a young promising étoile. Me! Little Elizabeth Porter from Dittmer, Missouri! I felt like I could touch the sky.

But unless this morning the orthopaedic surgeon was joking, and I really think he wasn't, my dancing career is just over.

According to him, my knee is like a melon after a 15-story fall. With some other surgeries and lot of rehab I will be able to walk again, but dancing like I did before the accident? No way in hell.

So, this is how it all ends. And it's not fair.

I came here after an audition for the American Ballet six years ago. My dance teacher was sure I could make it. I wasn't. I thought I was good, but not good enough for the American Ballet… let alone the ABT II program, that took only the best young dancers.

In the end, she was right, and I was wrong. And shocked.

My family wasn't so thrilled to see me go away, to live in the big, scary city with no friends or family to lean on. I was scared too, but my dream was coming true… nothing else mattered. That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The other reason why my family didn't want me to go was… well… I'm a very sensitive person. It's easy to hurt me. It's not like I'm stupid or naïve, it's just… the way I feel things is very different from the way the other people feel the same things. Grandma keeps saying it's a gift from God. I can understand people, make them feel better… Well, I wish sometimes God picked up someone else to gift with this thing. Because of this, everyone always treated me like I was some kind of delicate china doll, so I thought that going to New York would help me to become tougher and help my parents to stop see me as a little girl. And it worked, for a while. But I felt lonely… I had friends between the other dancers, but no one knew me for real.

Then came Gabriel.

The artistic director loved ancient watches, and that shy guy that lived and worked in that little shop in Queens was the only watchmaker skilled enough to fix them when they broke. Sometimes I found him in the corridors, but we never spoke. Then my grandfather's watch broke, and I literally begged him to fix it. Funny moment, actually: I was all dressed up to go to the practice room, on the verge of a nervous breakdown because that watch was probably the most valuable thing I possessed, and he was there, shocked that one of those girls he always admired from afar knew his name and was actually speaking to him.

I explained Gabriel that I could pay him, but he shrugged and said he didn't want anything in return. The day after he brought me back the watch, and I convinced Gabriel to let me buy him at least a cup of coffee to thank him. It all started there.

When living with the others became… difficult, emotionally speaking (I knew how everyone else was feeling. Pity that I didn't know how I was feeling…), Gabriel offered me his couch until I could find something better. I got lucky again… and I met my best friend #2.

Peter.

Gabriel wasn't sure it was a good idea, but I couldn't sleep on his couch forever, and the guy that put the announcement in the bulletin board at the university library lived in Manhattan, not far from my 'workplace', as Gabriel jokingly referred to the theatre. I gave him a chance. And after I met Peter, a guy that studied to become a nurse, I realized we were the same. Emotions were our strength and our weakness. He was kind, sweet, on the run from an oppressive family and totally not interested in me, I clearly felt it. The perfect roommate.

And his studies made him really helpful when… well, you know when.

Now you know everything there is to know about me.

The spell is broken. My dreams lay shattered all around me. I don't know what to do.

It may sound childish but… I the only thing I want is to go home. I loved New York, but now that my career is over, I can't live her anymore.

I have to go back where everything started.

And start again.