Title: The Time Traveler's Wife
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Pairing: Hiro x OC
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: "Yes, that's right. You're going. You've been gone for ages. You're already gone. You're still here. You've just arrived. I haven't even met you yet. It all depends on who you are and how you look at it. Strange business, time."
Word Count: 1,309
Warnings: N/A

Disclaimer: Not mine. Summary belongs to Doctor Who.

A/N: I am pretending Heroes: Reborn doesn't exist

When he blinks his eyes open, it is with the startling thought that he had been asleep for a while. He is coherent and awake upon his reappearance like he normally is, but is instead lying on a bed that feels familiar but doesn't look it. Sitting slowly, he presses a hand to his pounding head, scrunching his eyes closed at the sensation of drums banging around inside his skull. When his feel hit the floor, he slumped forward over his knees, rubbing at his eyes for long minutes before daring to take a longer look around.

The room was nice. It had a hotel-room feel, but it was nice. Plush comforter and fluffy pillows. He was still in his clothing from the Valentine's Day party, though much wrinkled and –

His eyes flew open. Jamie! What had happened? Why had he just vanished like that?! He'd lost control, just left her sitting there in the park, probably confused and wondering what had happened. People didn't just vanish, after all. This wasn't Harry Potter. How far had he traveled, anyway? And forward or back? Was he still in Los Angeles? What hotel was this? There weren't any pictures on the wall, nothing to give him a clue to where, or when, he was. What –

"Hiro!"

Hiro yelped and jerked, falling onto the floor in shock, knocking a lamp to the floor in his violent motion. When he squinted up at the figure over him, with a start he recognized them. "Ando-san?"

Ando was frowning at him in consternation – and confusion. "Hiro, what is going on? We've been looking everywhere for you?" He started to help his friend up. "And what are you wearing – that's not the suit Jamie picked out for you."

"Jamie-chan?!" He perked up at the name. Maybe he hadn't gone that far.

Ando blinked at him. "Yeah… Jamie -chan." He said the honorific strangely, like he wasn't used to it. "Are you alright? We, really have to go get you ready, but you're acting strange."

"Get ready?" For the first time, Hiro noticed his oldest friend was wearing probably the nicest suit he'd ever seen. His hair was slicked back suavely. And he was still looking at Hiro in concern. "Oh, h-hai! I'm fine! We can go get ready!" He flashed his friend a victory sign.

Ando seemed unconvinced, but started pulling Hiro along with him anyway, their impending lateness seemingly more important than Hiro's strangeness. He tried to glance around as they careened down the hall, still looking for a clue as to when and where he at wound up, but they were moving too quickly for him to get a good look out the window. Ando gives him an impatient tug on his arm every time he slows, so he simply follows, knowing he will find out eventually, hoping that wherever they are going there are answers.

But there are not – it is a room filled with half a dozen finally dressed men, his cousin, Peter Petrelli, another work colleague, and several he does not know but who call out his name like they are friends. Hiro is bewildered. Even more so, when a suit is thrown into his arms and he is shoved unceremoniously into an adjoining room to change. He does so with bewilderment. Upon his return, a woman (his hair stylist, she tells him) appears and quickly and efficiently does something to his hair, pins on his cufflinks, and straightens his tie, before shooing the lot of them out the door.

Hiro is stuck in the middle of a gaggle of men, marching who knows where. But everyone is happy and carefree and light, so he asks no questions to Ando and Peter. Whenever he is, they seem not to think he had been missing, so there can be nothing truly wrong.

Turning a corner, all the men but Ando veer off, meeting a group of young, equally done up young woman at the end of the hall. They partner off in choreographed succession, and Hiro is left with Ando in front of a large set of double doors, and a sign that reads:

Fifteenth of March two thousand and twenty-one

Hiro's mind gives a jerk in confusion. 2021? It had been two years since the Valentine's Day date, and yet no one seemed to have noticed his absence?

We are pleased to have you hear for the wedding of Jamie Peterson and Hiro Nakamura

His mind screeches to a halt.

"Well, buddy, this is it." And as the doors open, Ando pushes Hiro forward and marches him up rows and rows of pews, filled with everyone he had ever met. He stands before the congregation like a stature, only shock keeping him grounded. But when piano music begins to play and the couples from earlier (Bridesmaids and groomsmen, his brain supplies), his knees start to shake. By the time the bridal march has started his palms are sweating and he's incredibly worried that he really might throw up when he has to say anything. Then he remembered just what he would be saying and a new wave of terror washes over him.

But then Jamie appears, her hand on (he assumes) her father's arm and isn't it just ridiculous that he has never met her father and yet they are getting married. People are looking at her and waving and whispering, but she only has eyes for him. It has been minutes and years since he saw her last. Her hair is longer, brushing shoulders in gentle waves. But she is still the petite pixie from two years ago, tiny and graceful and innocent. Her grey, grey eyes are looking right into him, and they are shining, he can see it even from here. She loves him. She loves him.

It is a terrifying, jubilant, insane thought. But her smile is wavering as her chin trembles with the unshed tears of happiness pooling in her eyes, and Hiro doesn't care if it's crazy. Maybe fate brought him here. His powers brought him to this moment to show him his own future. Stranger things had happened.

In the next breath she is beside him and he father is giving her away with a clap on Hiro's back. They are repeating the vows that Hiro's own parents spoke so many years ago and his own eyes brim with tears, wishing is mother was here. Then they are saying "I do," and then, then, finally, he leans down and kisses her, to the whooping and cheering of the crowd.

With a grin, he pulls back, pumping a fist into the hair, he leans down and kisses her, to the whooping and cheering of the crowd.

With a grin, he pulls back, pumping a fist into the hair, "Yatta!"

There is cake and dancing and music and a bouquet toss and drinks and drinks and drinks. Soon Hiro is bubbling as much as the champagne he is full of, his head swimming with possibilities. He has never been this happy, and yet he feels cheated. Jamie got two years with him, he's only had hours with her. He wants more. He wants every moment of her life that he can have, until they are both old and grey.

With that thought he nods decisively to himself and stands, weaving drunkenly, and, thinking of their life together, he disappears.