0o0o0o0

I blinked against the sudden glare of bright sunshine. One minute, Mohinder was yelling at us, then Peter had grabbed my arm, and now we were in the middle of yuppie suburbia.

"For once, can someone just ask me if I'd like to go somewhere?" I threw my hands up in exasperation.

Peter released my hand to turn to the house we found ourselves in front of. I couldn't help but be impressed by the large, well-to-do home. Gabriel and I had evidently done well for ourselves in this strange future. Maybe we were even happy.

As I put my hand on the doorknob (assuming this was my house, this didn't count as trespassing, right?), I frowned at the blue flames leaping out of Peter's hands. "If I'm here, he'll help us. There's no need for that."

He frowned at me a moment, but finally doused the flames. Nodding my thanks, I opened the door and stepped inside. Peter followed me as I tentatively moved farther inside the house.

Movement caught our attention, and we saw a little boy come running up. "Hi, Uncle Peter. Dad's making waffles." Peter and I exchanged a startled look that only became more confused when the boy grabbed my hand and tugged me along.

"Daddy, Mommy's home!"

Mommy?!

Eyes wide from shock, I let the boy pull me into the kitchen where my gaze was fixed on Gabriel cooking breakfast in an apron that said 'Hail to the Chef!'

"What's up, champ? How you doin' man," Gabriel asked his son as he picked up the boy and set him on a stool. To my surprise, Gabriel leaned over the boy and kissed me on the mouth in a manner that spoke of habitual affection. I was so stunned that I let him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at work."

I blinked at him, feeling rather like I'd just walked into the Twilight Zone on accident. "Peter's here," I said choked out hastily, throwing my companion under the bus in order to distract my…husband? Gabriel's eyes flicked to the man stood watching, just a few yards away.

Gabriel looked pleasantly surprised. "Peter, it's so good to see you," he said, striding over. "I haven't seen you in so long." As Gabriel pulled him in for an affectionate hug, Peter shot me a bewildered look, to which I just shrugged helplessly. I was just glad it wasn't my turn anymore. I didn't know how many more surprises I could take. "If you told me you were coming, I would have made extra."

When Gabriel practically pranced back into the kitchen with a chuckle, I sort of sank onto a stool, not trusting my legs to hold me up anymore. There was a beep from the microwave, and Gabriel pulled out a little jug of syrup. "What's the magic word?"

"Abbracadabra."

"Well, that's 'a' magic word, so it's close enough," he said, shooting me a wry look that clearly told me that this was something the kid had picked up from me, as he poured syrup over the waffle. Unbidden, my lips twitched into a smile.

"Where's your scar uncle Peter," the boy asked curiously, looking at Peter. Instantly, Peter and I stiffened and looked at Gabriel. I could see awareness flicker across Gabriel's face as his gaze flickered between the two of us.

"You know what? The grownups need to have a little chat in the other room, so I'm gonna get you started on your waffle," he said to his (our?) son as he cut it up a little. "Are you gonna be ok?"

The boy heaved a sigh as Gabriel handed him the fork. "Yes." I grinned slightly; if there was any doubt this kid shared my blood, it was gone now. I had frequently given that same sigh in our apartment in New York; how often must I do it here that my son had picked it up?

"Yes, I know you are," Gabriel said, his eyes holding Peter's. "We're just gonna be in the other room, alright?"

"I want to stay with…" My gaze flickered to Gabriel as he passed Peter. He read the question and wonder in my eyes.

"Noah," Gabriel replied gently, his eyes soft and understanding.

"Noah," I breathed, reaching out to stroke my son's cheek. Noah grinned at me and my heart melted into a little puddle as I smiled back. Just like that, I fell in love.

The door to the other room shut, leaving me alone with my son. I studied him as he ate. He looked like a miniature Gabriel. "You want some help with your waffle?"

He nodded and I stood. There were butterflies in my stomach as I picked him up and slid under him to perch him on my lap. Deftly, I cut the waffle into pieces for him, reveling in the feeling of holding my son in my arms. I handed him the fork and pressed a kiss to his hair.

"So, when's your birthday, Noah," I asked, hoping he would think his strange that his mother didn't know.

He took a deep breath. "January 17, 2008," he recited with the monotone of memorization.

I did the mental math. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…I would be pregnant in a matter of weeks. Good God. Hands shaking, I wrapped my arms tightly around Noah's warm little body and closed my eyes.

Curious, I went into my son and surprised even myself at how easy it was. There was a natural link there, like my power recognized that Noah was mine and wanted to be connected to him. It felt like a thousand threads formed between us in that instant, and I knew that I'd be able to feel him wherever he was.

I was floored by the sensation. Wondering at the instinctive bond, I searched him. Noah was in perfect health, though I expected no less. After all, he had a future Me looking after him. What surprised me was that Noah had a power. He hadn't manifested yet and I didn't know what his ability would be, but it was there.

I pulled back and pressed a kiss to my son's hair with a smile. I decided that, for all the problems in this future world, I liked it. I couldn't wait to be here. Gabriel was happy and we had a family.

"I wanna go play," Noah said, squirming in my arms. Smiling mischievously, I set him down, but kept a hand on him.

"You don't wanna play with your Momma? You know what that means, don't you?" Grinning widely, I started tickling him and he squealed with laughter. His giggling was infectious, and I started laughing with him as I blew a raspberry on his tummy.

"Aw, how sweet."

I looked up to see Claire, the brunette who had shot Scarface, walking towards us. Standing slowly, I protectively shoved Noah behind me. "Stay back," I warned as she approached.

"Get the boy away from her," the brunette said to someone behind me. I spun to see a blond woman and…good lord, Knox again…standing on the other side of the kitchen. I yanked a knife from the block just in time to swing it wildly as the woman became a blond blur.

The blade came into contact with something briefly, before a sucker punch to the stomach doubled me over and sent the knife clattering harmlessly into the corner. A knee to the face forced me to the floor and Noah cried out for Gabriel. Dazed, I pulled myself to my hands and knees to see Knox holding my son.

"Not now, Noah."

"Yes, now," the man said calmly. I shakily climbed to my feet as Gabriel and Peter came from the playroom.

"Noah, it's gonna be ok, buddy," Gabriel said.

My eyes went to the brunette as she stepped forward. "Let's not make this any harder than it already is, Peter. Just come quietly, and we'll leave them alone."

"Don't do it, Peter. Teleport out now," Gabriel countered.

"I'm not leaving. I brought this into your house."

"No, this was my house. You took everything from me," the brunette hissed.

"Claire," Gabriel started, "I never meant for you to—"

"Shut up," she snapped, leveling the gun at Noah. Claire smiled bitterly at Peter. "So what's it gonna be? The boy or you? You don't want anyone to get hurt, do you?"

"Just, first let the boy go," Peter cautiously requested.

"Not until your dead." There was hate in Claire's voice. I saw her attention was fully focused on Peter. Heart pounding, I took the chance I saw.

I lunged in front of Claire, knocking the gun away from Noah's direction as I grabbed her face. With just the briefest brush of my power, I knocked her unconscious. Instantly, Blond Blur tackled me painfully to the floor, but was thrown off by Brunette Blur (Peter, I assumed).

"Daddy!" Noah ran to Gabriel.

"Go hide, over there. Go now."

Noah ran to me. "Do you know the song Alphabet song," I asked as I quickly tucked him into the cabinet beneath the sink. He nodded. "I need you to cover your ears and hum it for me, ok? Don't come out for anyone but me or daddy." I waited until he nodded again before closing the cabinet door.

I straightened just in time to see Gabriel fly into the center island. The temptation to go make sure he was alright was strong, but I fought it knowing Gabriel could take care of himself.

My gaze locked on Claire as she climbed to her feet. I offered Gabriel a hand up, flooding him with diesel energy through the brief contact. "You got Knox?"

"I got him," he said grimly, stalking after the man.

Claire's gun had been kicked under the debris from the table. Claire coiled to run, and I yanked another knife from the block and carefully hurt hurled it.

My aim was as true as it had been the day Gabriel tried to hang himself; the blade buried itself to the hilt in her throat as she sprinted at me. "Thank you, Tommy," I muttered as she dropped like a rock.

I'd glimpsed her power briefly when I'd touched her before, and I knew that Miss Invincible wouldn't be out of commission long. I wasted no time in ransacking drawers, looking for anything that could restrain her.

"Duct tape?"

"Third drawer on the left," Gabriel called before leveling what sounded like a particularly brutal punch on Knox's face.

Snatching the tape up, I stalked to where Claire lay bleeding on the floor, unconscious. I rolled her over and pulled her hands behind her back, taping them together before wrapping a good amount above her elbows. I bent one of her legs back and securely attached one of her ankles to her bound wrists, hobbling her. She'd have to be either Houdini or the freakin' Hulk to get out of this.

The man Gabriel was fighting was now firmly pinned against the wall and looking a tad perturbed because of it. I rolled my eyes at the smirk on Gabriel's face as I passed him and touched the captive man, who instantly slumped over in unconsciousness. Gabriel released his telekinetic hold on him and let him fall to the floor.

As one, we moved to where Peter was still duking it out with the blond. She caught one look at us and sped out the door.

"Smart girl," I remarked.

"Given that she attacked my family, I must disagree," Gabriel commented. "Are you alright?"

I assumed he was talking to Peter, who was currently picking himself up off the floor. I held out my hand Peter, both offering a hand up and healing. "I'm fine," he insisted, taking my hand. I closed my eyes, but opened them again when I realized he was already healing. He shrugged at the look I gave him.

We passed Gabriel, who took my hand and pulled me to a stop. "Are you alright," he asked again, frowning.

I squeezed his hand. "Well, I don't have regenerative abilities, so my jaw hurts like a…well, it hurts," I said, amending my words. And in truth, my jaw was throbbing like an S.O.B. from its meet cute with Claire's fist. I rubbed it gently. "But I'll be fine."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, holding me there for a moment. "Next time you step in front of a crazed woman brandishing a gun, I'm going to take you over my knee."

I pulled back and arched an eyebrow at him. "I'll try not to make a habit of it," I replied dryly.

"Where is Noah," he asked, releasing me.

"Beneath the sink. I'll get him."

I stepped out of the destroyed playroom and went to the cabinet. Noah was crying as he crawled out and flung his arms around my neck. "Mommy." I stood, still holding him, and pressed a kiss to his hair. Gabriel joined us, wrapping an arm around me as he stroked Noah's back soothingly. "Is he hurt?"

"He's just scared," I said knowingly. The bond between us was still strong, and I knew it was the truth. Still, Noah didn't need to deal with this right now, so I gently reached into my son's mind and sent him into a restful sleep. I opened my eyes and looked at Gabriel, not wanting to release Noah. "I have so many questions."

"Dorothy, we need to go. We got what we came for," Peter said.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my son's neck, memorizing the feeling of him asleep in my arms. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked at Gabriel. "Were we happy?"

Gabriel nodded silently, brushing my check with the back of his hand.

"I'll make sure we are happy again. I promise I'll find a way," I told him fiercely, but softly enough not to wake Noah. Gabriel kissed me gently but earnestly for a moment before pulling back and carefully taking our son from me.

I spared them one last lingering, longing look, and memorizing the sight, before abruptly turning and walking to Peter. Every cell in my body screamed at me to return to the pair, but I knew that I couldn't. Peter put his hand on my shoulder with a look of apology…

I blinked when I realized I was suddenly in a cell. This teleporting thing was discombobulating in the extreme. Before I could quite get my bearings, Peter had Gabriel (wait, why was Gabriel in a cell now?) in a stranglehold against the wall.

"What the…"

"You have the hunger," Sylar realized around the hand on his throat. "You're just like me."

"I'll never let myself become like you," Peter snarled.

"You already are, brother." Sylar's taunt snapped Peter's control, and his scream echoed around the chamber as he snapped Sylar's neck. I cried out in surprise and horror as Gabriel crumpled to the floor.

"Peter, stop! You don't know what you're –" Angela Petrelli, who had come from nowhere into the room, suddenly halted in her tracks as Peter telekinetically halted her. I recognized her from the files I had read while working for Primatech. "You don't know what you're doing."

My mind was whirling, slow to catch up from the shock. 'You have the hunger' Gabriel had said. I watched as Peter kept his mother frozen.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Peter hissed, advancing on her. "When were you going to tell me that Sylar's my brother? How many –" He stopped talking as I pressed a hand to his arm, the barest of contact, but it was enough to drop him. Peter crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Released from her psychic captivity, Angela ran and knelt by her son's side. I, however, had already pushed Peter from my mind as I rushed to where Gabriel had fallen.

"Holy shit," I breathed, shock stopping me dead in my tracks. Gabriel was already getting to his feet, his neck at a grotesque angle before he snapped it back into place.

As my previously dead lover climbed to his feet, my mind simply decided enough was enough. In one day, I had been kidnapped by homicidal maniacs bent on revenge, branded, kidnapped by time traveling doppelgangers, seen my future son and husband attacked by more homicidal maniacs bent on revenge, then teleported back to the present day to see my boyfriend murdered and then resurrected.

The world began to swim, and it was with a somewhat apologetic tone that I said, "Really, this shouldn't surprise me," and fainted.

0o0o0o0o0o

When I woke, I was alone. I was clearly in some sort of hospital room, one run by the company by the looks of it. The events of the past day were slow to come back, like my mind preferred to regard it as a particularly long and badly thought out dream. Grimacing, I tried to assess my current situation. I was in a hospital gown (backless by the feel of it. Fantastic) and a large bandage covered my branded arm.

An IV dripping – I squinted to read the label without my glasses – Oxacillin was attached to my arm, making me raise an eyebrow; it was a very powerful antibiotic. Suspecting what I would find, I pried the bandage back gently, grimacing and reattaching the tape after a brief inspection. Oxacillin via IV and generous amounts of Silvadene on the burn confirmed my suspicions: not only had that idiot Flint branded me, but he'd given me blood poisoning in the process.

I started when Angela Petrelli entered my room. We regarded each other for a moment in wary silence, sizing each other up. "You, Miss DuValier, have proven to be quite a nuisance."

I arched a brow. "I assure you, Mrs. Petrelli, that the feeling is mutual."

"You are Sylar's lover," she said, watching me. I stiffened. "I'm curious as to what kind of woman stays with a man like him. I'm even more curious as to what kind of woman gets a man like him to stay with her."

Refusing to be intimidated by this woman, I simply leaned back and studied her curiously. So this was the person running The Company. Maybe I could get information out of her.

"What do you want," I asked finally. There was no malice in my voice, only curiosity.

"I want you," she said simply. "I have Gabriel, but he needs you to focus him."

If there was anything Gabriel had taught me, it was not to show your enemy your emotions, so I kept my face blank. "So you're telling me that you've managed to not only capture and presumably incapacitate a man as powerful as Sylar, but also got him to work for you to capture Level 5 escapees. But yet you need my help?"

She shifted imperceptibly. "Gabriel only willingly went to stop Knox when informed that you were in their possession. However, Gabriel is my son and as such, I need to see to his happiness."

I almost rolled my eyes at that crap. I didn't know if she was his mother or not, but I could hazard a guess that his happiness was about as high on her list of priorities as mine was. Instead of saying so, however, I simply raised an unimpressed and disbelieving eyebrow.

Her lips thinned almost imperceptibly. "Sylar is a very complicated man, and very volatile. If he thinks we're holding you against your will, he'll turn on us. So yes, I'm giving you a choice. I want Gabriel, and he wants you."

I nearly smiled. The second she had said she had Gabriel, I knew I would stay willingly. But now, I had something to barter with. "My cooperation must be pretty important if you're going to all this trouble. I'd say it's probably important enough to exchange information for."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want to know?"

"Elle Bishop."

She raised her chin. "She is no longer employed at the company. You will have access to all the information you need, Dr. DuValier. Do I have your cooperation?"

I smiled dryly. "I suppose you do."

"While you're here, we will expect you to use your abilities, of course," said Mrs. Petrelli.

"Is that so." I didn't bother trying to sound surprised.

"You're ability to heal is unparalleled, Dr. DuValier." That got my attention. The ability to heal was fairly rare, but by no means unique. I'd read the files of three such individuals myself. "Oh yes. There are a few people who can heal others, two of whom even founded this company thirty years ago, but they were not even close to your caliber."

I eyed her doubtfully. "What do you mean?"

"You really have no idea how powerful you are." She shook her head. "You've only scratched the surface of your abilities."

0o0o0o0o0oo0

3 days later, I drummed my fingers against the chair arm. According to my watch, I'd been waiting in this depressing little room for over an hour now. As soon as I was given the all clear to resume whatever work I had been blackmailed into, I had been told that I would be subjected to testing. In my opinion, if Mrs. Petrelli wanted to test the extent of my abilities so desperately, she could have at least picked a proctor who would be on time.

I wasn't even sure how you tested someone's ability to heal. It couldn't be good. I would give these people 'morally gray' at best, though I usually tended towards 'morally bankrupt.'

At last the door opened and a man in a white lab coat entered. I stood and shook his hand.

"I'm Dr. Adam Dzinski."

"Dorothy DuValier."

"Mrs. Petrelli seems to think you have a rather impressive ability to heal, and wants me to test your limits," he said.

"I'm not sure how one would go about testing that," I said, smiling as best I could.

"Well, we want to see how long you can go continuously, and how much contact with the patient you need, or if you need contact at all. We're also interested in seeing if your ability is strictly healing or if it's more along the lines of body manipulation."

I didn't blink. This was nothing that I hadn't expected. "You want to know if I can torture someone."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, if you insist on putting it in the blackest terms possible."

"Dr. Dzinski, when it comes to this company, it's always in the blackest terms possible."