CHAPTER SIX

Everything was hazy. Like her eyesight had suddenly started fading away. Sometimes there were harsh lights burning into her eyes. Other times it was dark. Mostly it was too bright. People milled about, talking to each other, talking around her and the others stuck in stiff beds. She couldn't really make out any real detail.

Blue eyes. She remembered the lightest blue eyes she'd ever seen looking down at her. And then a voice, a deep gentle voice.

"Congratulations, Ro. Everything went perfectly. You're doing so well."

"What about me?" a strained voice asked from a bed nearby. "Why is she your favorite?"

"That's not true, Tess."

"But she's dressed in gold. She's your favorite!"

A blinding pain erupted in her head, along with a searing whistling sound. A tune she recognized, having started humming it to herself since tripping on that mountain over a year ago.

I couldn't help but ask, for you to say it all again…

With a sharp gasp, Rio sat up in her bed. Cold sweat taped her hair to her forehead and cheeks and neck as she panted. The whistling faded into silence in the Hudson house. Taking her meditation posture – she'd taken to the practice while her ability was at its most volatile – she took deep breaths. She managed to calm herself down, but not enough to fall asleep again. She figured she might as well take a shower, or even a bath, and loped into her connected bathroom, getting an early start on the day.

Rio could barely keep up with Tom and Diana that day at work after they told her they were going to Fairview for a case. Some teacher – a 4400 – had been arrested for child abuse so they were driving out there to investigate. They were already packed and everything. They were giving her busy work to do while they were gone, and she walked with them out to Tom's car.

Diana frowned as she peered at the map in her hands. "Even on the map, Fairview seems far away."

"That's four hours tops," Tom said optimistically.

"This is my first time spending the night away from Maia," the mother said, frowning.

"Isn't your sister with her?" Tom asked with a shit-eating grin. "The one with all the tattoos?" Diana glared at him, so he chuckled and said, "Sorry."

"Those beer kegs Kyle ordered should be showing up right about now," Diana teased right back.

"The children will be fine while you guys are working, trust me," Rio laughed at them.

"You read these charges?" Tom changed the subject while they loaded the back of his car. ""Teacher is accused of reckless endangerment, placing her students' health, welfare, and safety at risk." Could that be any more vague?"

"Well that could be anything from grabbing them on the arms to touching them on the privates," Diana mulled. "Or maybe she did nothing."

"Tom and I vote for nothing," Rio chimed in.

"Right," Tom agreed. "A 4400 serial killer was bad enough but a 4400 child molester?"

All of her muscles felt like they were threatening to fall off of her body. That was how hard Hilliard had worked her over the last couple of days. Then there was the threat of an emerging migraine pushing against her skull whenever she had a weird dream like before. It played in her mind like a loop.

"They told me the tests went well. You're our first success story. I'm so proud of you, Ro."

And a bright smile, blocked out by the bright light that always interrupted her dreams and woke her up, along with that same song.

'I couldn't help but ask, for you to say it all again…'

The realization of what these dreams could mean played on her head as well. In reality, she had probably known the truth since she had ended up on that mountain. Or at least, a small modicum of the truth. Really, just a feeling. One overwhelming emotion that told her what she already knew but didn't want to know.

Luckily, the case with the teacher in Fairview didn't take more than a couple of days so Tom and Diana were due back to base in fifteen more minutes to do a debrief with Jarvis and clock out.

Packed up, Rio waited until she saw Tom and Diana come out of Jarvis' office to walk out to the cars with them. By some serendipity, Tom's car was parked next to hers. After seeing Diana off, Rio took her chance. "Tom, I need to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, yeah," Rio mumbled. "Nothing's wrong… I just wanted to talk to someone about something."

"You can talk to me about anything," he promised.

"When we landed on that moment, we weren't supposed to remember anything about where we were when we were gone, or who took us, none of it," Rio slowly started to explain.

Tom's brow furrowed together in though and confusion. And something else he'd kick himself for later – suspicion. His mind went back to when he and Diana were first paired up in the wake of the 4400 landing on Mt. Rainier. When they started watching some of the interviews.

Tom stared at the young girl on the screen of the recorded interview. She sat in her gray uniform with her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun. She seemed tired and cranky and like this interview room was the last place she wanted to be.

"What is your name?" the agent asked her, the camera only showing her face.

The girl sighed, answering robotically, "Rhiannon. Amber. Mitchell."

"And where are you from, Rhiannon?" the guard asked her from the list of questions he'd been assigned.

"Centre Island, New York," Rhiannon answered in the same fashion, folding her arms across her chest. The girl sighed, "I was on the back porch, at night, having a... joint. It's the eighties—everyone does it. I had just convinced my little brother Jacob to go back to bed and I was smoking for a few minutes and then—I'm at that mountain surrounded by thousands of strangers."

Diana had been thoughtful watching. "This girl, Rhiannon—there's something in her eyes. Like she knows something she's holding back."

"You think she knows who took her and the others?" Tom asked.

"That—or she wasn't really one of the innocently taken at all," Diana theorized.

By now, Tom could say that he knew Rio was innocent and taken just like all the others. But maybe she wasn't as blissfully ignorant as the others. Maybe…

"And I didn't remember anything," Rio continued. "But I felt like I did… I didn't know if I was having a perpetual bipolar episode, or maybe I was in denial. But I felt like I was in mourning. Even before anyone told me about the fire that killed my family. I was just missing something, or someone. I don't know. I'm not making this up, Tom. I really didn't remember anything about where we were or what happened to us while we were gone. But I just felt like I was forced to leave my whole life behind twice over and I couldn't explain it then."

"Okay, and now?" Tom asked, reaching out to take her hand.

"Since meeting Tess…" Rio whispered, "I've been having these dreams. I think she triggered them by recognizing me. Because she was there, saying I was their favorite, dressed in gold. At first, I dismissed it because of what she said. But I've had a few other dreams. Just like flashes of lights and this song."

"Song?" Tom questioned. "What song?"

She shrugged with a bit of a blush. "Just this tune that's been in my head since we got back. I've never been able to figure out where it came from. But now… I think I heard it there."

"The future?" Tom asked her.

She nodded. "I had to have. Right? But that would mean that I always had some memory of our time there. I mean, it doesn't help us now. I have no idea what catastrophe that guy in Kyle was talking about. Or their big plan for the 4400. I don't remember anything concrete or useful. That's even if these dreams are some memories. What if they're really just dreams? I don't know, Tom."

"Listen, Rio, maybe this is a good thing," Tom suggested. "If they turn out to be memories, maybe you'll remember something more detailed. Something we can work with. In the meantime, don't put any pressure on yourself. It's not on you. Just treat them like dreams."

"Thanks, Tom," Rio smiled, squeezing his hand. "Can we keep this between us? Unless I actually remember something important."

"Of course," he promised. "There's no point in mentioning it. It's your business. And you can come to me any time."

"Thank you," she spoke, stepping in to hug him tight. She was grateful to have him there for her.

Later, at home, laundry was the bane of Rio's existence. Every blouse Sarah gave her to borrow needed to be hung dry. The pants needed to be ironed. And none of it made her feel like she really fit in. Putting on those outfits every morning was putting on a costume. She was waiting for clothes to dry while reading about the LA Riots when she felt it. Channeling in on a powerful member of the 4400. This time, she knew exactly who it was. She could practically feel the terror and tears as Jordan Collier's face flashed before her eyes while Maia's scared voice rang in her ears.

He's going to die! I saw it. He's going to die.

Sweetheart, are you okay? Did you have a nightmare? She heard Diana's voice.

No. I was awake and I saw it.

Rio put her book away and massaged her temples. Pressure was building up in her head. But by now she had grown used to it.

Tell us what you saw.

That man we watched on tv once.

What man? Diana's sister asked.

Him.

Jordan Collier? Diana sounded completely shocked.

Someone's going to kill him.

Hearing about Maia's vision and practically feeling her fear gave Rio a second wind. She got this job to help people like Maia. Maybe not people like Collier – but she also wasn't going to sit on his predicted murder and do nothing. The whole point she started group and got herself a position with NTAC was to help people and definitely 4400. But she couldn't do it pretending to be like every other agent or dressing like it.

So instead of dress pants, she slipped on comfortable black jeans with no tears or holes in them. Instead of a blouse that could double as a mini tent, she slipped on a black v-neck. All topped with a comfortable blazer of Sarah's that she actually kept. With that, she could breathe again.

She made sure to get to the building early as well. She waited in her parking spot for Diana to show up.

Diana greeted her with, "Wow – your wardrobe took a turn for the more… well, you. You look good."

And Rio responded with, "How's Maia?" with a tap on her temple.

Diana sighed – half in frustration for the day ahead, and half in relief that Rhiannon was one person who wasn't going to make things difficult. "She's shaken up. I could barely get her to go back to sleep. Now comes the worse part – telling Jarvis."

"Hopefully she's more distracted by the possible assassination of Jordan Collier than learning that Maia has visions," Rio stated.

She should have known better.

"As far as this department knew, Maia wasn't having visions anymore," was Jarvis' reaction while Diana told her, Rio, Tom, and Marco about Maia's vision. "Right?"

"Well, she was keeping them secret from me and writing everything down in a diary but I'm not here to talk about my daughter," Diana tried to breeze past that part. "We're here to talk about Collier."

Marco chimed in. "We could talk about him all you want, but if I was Collier, I'd be bringing all my books back to the library. If you know what I mean." He looked to Diana. "The kid's never wrong, right?"

"Look, as far as I can tell, Maia has two kinds of visions," Diana told the room. "If she can see an event clearly enough in her head, she can sometimes influence the course of the future. But mostly her visions are abstract. They're more like certainties. Prophecies, I guess you could call them. Now, this is one of those and as far as I can tell, they're never wrong."

"Well, not yet anyway. But nobody's made a concerted effort to stop one of them from happening," Tom cut in.

"She's never seen something as big as an assassination before either," Rio cut in. "But this one was big. And powerful enough for her to project to me for the first time."

"Did you see what she saw?" Tom asked her.

Rio shrugged from her lounging position in her chair. "Just Collier bleeding. Couldn't even tell where he was bleeding. Mostly I just channeled Maia's fear. She was so shaken up."

"So, we could always offer Collier a suite in the basement," Diana mused.

"Sure, we just tell the guy he needs to stay isolated for what, a week? A year?" Jarvis mused.

"When it comes to the prevention of 'future crime'," Marco said in air quotes, "there are no time limits – and everyone's a suspect. I mean, literally everyone."

"He's right," Rio agreed. "We don't even have a timeline for when this is supposed to happen. The assassin could be someone that Collier's yet to piss off."

"So how to stop the inevitable from happening?" Jarvis asked.

"Stopping the inevitable—isn't that what we deal with every day?" Tom said, looking to Rio as he added, "I mean, that's why the 4400 were sent back, right?"

"And we didn't exactly get a how-to manual," Rio retorted. "And this is all assuming that whatever plan we could come up with, Collier would cooperate. He hasn't exactly hidden his feelings about the government."

"And I have to ask, do we even want to save Collier?" Marco added. "Well, he is kind of the bad guy."

"Maybe that's the way the future wants it," Jarvis suggested.

"I hate the guy's guts," Rio agreed. "But knowing what we know, if we don't do everything we can do within reason to prevent it, we're just as culpable. Even if it means scouring every possible suspect for me to scan until we shake something out. And maybe Diana's right and there's no way to avoid it."

And then Tom said, "Unless they gave us this message as a way to stop Collier's death from happening."

"Whatever their plan is, we know the next step is to tell Collier," Rio muttered. "And I'm coming."

"Are you sure you want to set foot in that place again?" Diana asked Rhiannon as they drove in Tom's SUV to the 4400 center.

"Jordan Collier may be my Joker," Rio muttered, pulling her blazer tighter on her shoulders and trying to straighten her posture. She was going in there as an Agent on official business, not storming in to help a fellow telepath. "But I don't want him to become a martyr either and this kind of case is right there in the sphere of work I could do for NTAC to help 4400 and eliminate danger."

"I, for one, think you're being very professional," Tom commented. "None of us are particularly looking forward to this. But we all have a job to do."

"Let's just get it over with," she answered him as Tom parked. She ended up buttoning her blazer up and keeping her hands hooked in her jeans while following the NTAC agents into the building. And instead of racing up to Collier's office, despite obstacles, they went through the proper channels to get a meeting with the man.

When permitted entrance, Collier didn't hide his veiled surprise to see her. "Miss Mitchell! I wasn't aware you were accompanying Agents Baldwin and Scourcis today."

Rio sarcastically smiled at him, keeping herself as civil as she could. "Just doing my job."

"Right, right, you decided to take your talents to NTAC," he mused with a bit of a glint in his eyes.

She knew his implication. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice to see you too, Koresh." When she saw Collier's frown at the name, she was thankful to Marco and the History Channel for helping her keep up with all the stuff she'd missed since the eighties. The more recent references were paying off.

"Mr. Collier, we're here because we have come across some potentially disturbing information that concerns you," Diana said professionally.

"Well, why don't we have a seat then?" he answered, gesturing to his smaller office beyond his meeting room.

Diana and Tom took the only two chairs across from Jordan's desk. Rio hovered in the entryway with her arms crossed over her chest. She tuned out for the most part while Diana and Tom told Collier about Maia's vision. She idly scanned some of the minds throughout the center. She found a lot of delusional people taking classes, praying to make it through the key system and discover a latent superpower. No one entirely homicidal or worrying.

"Fascinating. What an extraordinary gift," Jordan droned when they were finished.

Tom and Diana shared a confused look. "You are clear on what we're telling you?"

He nodded. "Your daughter has quite a track record when it comes to seeing the future. Her latest vision involves my death. I leave anything out?"

Diana shook her head. "No, that about covers it."

"NTAC is offering you all its resources," Tom said. "That means round-the-clock protection threat assessment."

"And I'm meant, of course, to isolate myself?" Jordan proposed.

"Well, that would be the safest move," Tom nodded.

Rio knew Collier wouldn't go for it. She didn't have to read his mind to call that.

Collier didn't let her down. "Let's say I'm willing to assume good faith on your part—which, given your exploitation of the 4400 to get to me is rather generous…"

Rio had to scoff at his words. "You want to talk about exploitation?"

Diana waved her hand at Rio to cut her off as she looked at Collier and asked, "What—you think we made this up?"

"I'm not sure you're that creative," he deadpanned. "But your plan does call for my total withdrawal from the public eye and cancellation of a celebration of the public interest in the 4400 that's been months in the planning."

"Our history with each other is what it is but this is real, and denial is not a luxury you can afford," Tom stated.

Collier still didn't seem worried. "Thank you for the information, I'll keep it in mind."

As Tom and Diana stood from their seats, Diana warned him one last time, "Maia is never wrong."

"Whatever protection you can afford me, I can afford myself. Pick up some of the reunion literature on your way out. The foreign returnees' stories are particularly inspirational," Collier dismissed them. But as the three of them went to leave, he called out, "Could I have a quick word with Miss Mitchell?"

Tom and Diana were reluctant to do so. But Rio gave them a reassuring nod. "I'll meet you at the car, okay?" She also projected into their minds, I can always call for help if I need to.

Placated, the duo nodded and made their way out of the office.

Rio turned to Collier with a muted sigh. "Please, Collier, Miss Mitchell is so formal. Just call me nothing." She uncrossed her arms to stuff her hands in her jean's pockets. "What do you want?"

He gave her a look. "Can't you just peruse my mind? Why bother asking?"

"I have control over my abilities now," she answered. "I don't go digging into peoples' brains unless I feel the need to. Think of it as… probable cause."

"Taking up the NTAC lingo then," he mused. "Listen, I know we have an unfortunately tense history, neither of us can deny that. But you still are part of the 4400 and thus always welcome here. We have to look out for each other."

"Agree to disagree," she muttered in response. "I hope you're honing in on a point here, Messiah."

"I just wanted to say that I hope we can let bygones be bygones and move toward a more united front," he suggested. "We all have important parts to play if we hope to save the future. And a perfect start would be our celebration. It'll also serve as a 4400 reunion."

Rio spoke lowly. "Let's get one thing straight, Moses… I don't like you. I will never like you. And I'm not going to fall into line the way your little followers do. All of that being said, I don't wish you dead. And I can tell you that Maia's vision is real, and she's never wrong." She didn't bother saying anything else in way of farewell before leaving the office and making her exit.

She was making it into the lobby, almost out the door, when she felt and heard a mind call out to hers without meaning to. Rio? She knew who it was before she turned to see Shawn leaving a conversation to meet her in the middle of the entrance of the lobby. As he got closer, he spoke out loud, "Hey Rio. What are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too," she retorted sarcastically. "I was just having a meeting with Father Superior, came with Tom and Diana."

"You had a meeting with Jordan?" he asked, confusing leaking out of his face. "About what?"

"Ask your Daddy," she said shortly. She turned to go but he stopped her—again.

"Rio, wait."

She didn't bother to turn around this time.

"I miss you…"

But that made her turn around quickly. "What?"

"Please don't act surprised," he said. "I know things ended badly—and that's on me. But I never stopped caring about you."

Rio snorted. "Yeah, right. That's why you put me on the banned list."

Shawn's mouth pursed and eyebrows furrowed together. "What are you talking about?"

Rio was about to yell at him. Tell him not to pretend not to know what she meant. But the confusion on his face looked very real. She didn't need to look into his mind to know what happened. "Ah, I get what happened now. After you left, I gave you a few weeks to cool off before I came here to talk to you." She could tell that he still wasn't clear on what she was implying so she had to be blunt. "They threw me out, Shawn. Told me that you didn't want to see me and had my name on a specific list of people not to allow in."

Shawn gasped. "What? I'd never—"

Rio cut him off. "No, but Collier would. He must have known that I had an outside shot of shaking your decision to stay here if I got to you early enough. And he couldn't let that happen."

Shawn's face went through many conflicting emotions all at once, like he couldn't land on just one. "Rio…"

"It doesn't change anything," she told him. "You had every opportunity to walk out that door and come to me. Don't tell me you didn't." She sighed, crossing her arms tightly over the front of her body. "You made your own choices, Shawn. You made the choice to leave me in the street begging you to stay. You made the choice not to contact me. The flowers don't count. You made the choice to stay here. And now you're living with the consequences. That's life."

"I'm—I'm sorry," he stammered.

"Don't be," she said softly. "I'm okay with where my life has ended up right now. I'm happy with my choices. If you can say the same, more power to you. But that still puts us at a polarizing difference of beliefs. There's no going back." She paused before saying, "Take care of yourself, Shawn," and turning on her heel to make for the exit quickly before anyone else could try to talk to her. With each passing minute, her mood grew fouler.