's been awhile, huh?

This is ... probably the longest I've written in a seriously long time. Hope you guys enjoy! ;)

And let me remind you, this is AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own TDI. If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, you will discover the truth..."

When he woke up, he was still dreaming.

Or so he thought.

Geoff walked down a white hallway, trembling down to his toes. His current location was unclear, and there wasn't going to be much to figure out for the time being. All he knew was this – he had to escape somehow.

Where am I?

His head spun, unknowingly examining every, distinctive inch of a place with neither entrances nor exits. No windows or vague cracks in the ceiling. Just colorless imaginary that couldn't possibly be real – or could it? In fact he considered it to be the complete opposite – surreal, and --

Impossible.

The only sounds came from when he made his way down to nowhere, the tap-tap-tap his runners made as he paced around for a bit then stopped, to think.

A break would do him good, perhaps.

… He took a seat and cautiously leaned back over the chair's backrest, his fingers intertwined over his knees.

Geoff froze in place, as he contemplated his circumstances over.

There were many – nearly twenty of them, all of a sudden (he hadn't realized before, but he was certain they hadn't been there when he last checked) positioned in an arched line. Some were covered in layers of dust, as if they hadn't been used in years or at all…

But what could this all mean? Chairs? Of all other things that could've shown up instead and been of better use – like an explanation, or a way out – Geoff was given chairs. He thought about it for a moment -- or as much as one could with a grave need for aspirin – and came up blank. He knew nothing. And yet here he was, for some reason, put in this particular situation. Then hastily, he felt a shock through his body, stunning every nerve. He fell to his knees.

…then he woke up.

Or maybe he'd been awake this whole time.

--

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes into a place that felt much closer to home, was her.

She pressed a damp cloth onto his forehead, her expression unchanged when she discovered he had finally come to. He continued to stare, his mind filled with questions that he figured he wouldn't be able to answer for himself all at once. Considering this for a moment, he opened his mouth to ask his first.

The words got stuck in his throat, and he nearly had to choke them out, one by one, "Who are you?"

A pause. "Bridgette Ryerson," she informed, as if rehearsed many times before. Then came the anticipated silence, as he briefly scanned his surroundings, and breathed in a smell so familiar. Last night's leftover pasta. The coffee he brewed this morning still lingered in the air. And from the corner of his eye he found the display of photographs of him and his siblings that, would normally be arranged in the family room.

"Alright." Both parties grew tense. Even Bridgette, who on every other day would be so…composed. The second question came more naturally, yet the procedure was the same – the words would come slowly, even when he knew exactly what he wanted to say. "Next, what are you doing in my house?"

Her face flushed for a moment, but in a second she was herself again, or at least came up with a good enough impression. "I let myself in. People say I have a talent with locks."

Geoff wasn't sure whether to be relieved or troubled by this statement.

She went on. "Th-then I brought you in, laid you over on the couch here, and attended to your wounds. Your injuries weren't anything too serious, but I thought…"

"How did you find me?"

There it was, the question she'd been dreading yet convinced was going to be brought up. Bridgette chewed on her lower lip, racking her brain for a response that wouldn't counter an infinite amount of other questions. She sighed, giving in. Perhaps he deserved to know. "I read your thoughts."

He froze, stunned. "Y-you read my thoughts."

"I had this meeting earlier. It's cancelled now, but-" Hesitantly, she kept going, recalling the events that had led up to this, "I took a detour to order some doughnuts. Anyway, they must've been pretty mad that I was a little over an hour late, 'coz when I got there, a bunch of 'em were knocked out cold. Including…well, you."

Inwardly, he prayed she wouldn't sidetrack her story then ask him what he was doing there in the first place. She didn't, gazing upon the farthest window.

"Sometime in between, I received two signals that someoneneeded me right then," Bridgette played with a loose strand of blonde hair, twirling it between her fingers. "The first was a missed call. Unknown number. It meant nothing until I heard the second one…your voice. Taking over my brain."

Geoff thought it over for a bit – was he still dreaming? It all still seemed surreal to him, and even when she was speaking of him, he was still oblivious as to how he fit into this mess.

"What'd I say?" he asked, breathing steadily.

"I forgot," she replied, shrugging like it was no big deal. And then her story was over. She got up, fixing her things on the table in front.

"You're not like everyone else, are you?" He didn't think this one over. He simply just said it, wanting an answer.

She blinked twice, freezing in place. "What do you mean?" she cornered him with, even when she knew perfectly what he meant.

"You 'read my thoughts'? Something tells me you don't hear things like that everyday."

"This conversation's getting hand," she murmured bitterly, staring with cold eyes, "You already know too much." Stuffing the last item into her sling bag, she ran for the door, only to be stopped by the door already opening for her.

A familiar voice entered the room, slamming the door behind him. "I brought the tapes like you wanted, man. They're each fifteen minutes long, sorry 'bout that. Mr. D just wouldn't shut up. But you would know, right-"

Cody stopped dead at his tracks, noticing the attractive girl standing astoundingly in front of him. He then looked over to Geoff, who had his shirt off while she'd attended to his wounds. Well of course, having just walked into the scene less than a minute ago, Cody was totally unaware of what…had really taken place here.

"Sh-should I go?" he questioned, shaking. His teenage male hormones were hastily getting the better of him.

Bridgette responded quickly, shoving him aside and making for the door a second time. "I was just leaving." The door opened again then slammed shut, the sound echoing off the walls.

Geoff reacted to this instantly, getting up first, his palms pressed against the edge of the couch. "I'm going after her. There's one more thing I have to ask."

He reached for the door on one leg, fixing his belt, when Cody picked his shirt off the floor and threw it at him.

"I tried that once, running across the street half-naked. Yeah, the old lady next door came after me with a golf club. I think you're going to need this."

--

Eventually he caught up to her, four kilometers later. He grabbed onto her by the arm, pulling her closer. She skidded backwards, taken off balance. When she opened her eyes, it was his she saw, begging for answers. She knew.

"What do you want," Bridgette muttered under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Answers," he replied, just as she'd suspected. "I had a dream. Not last night. In fact, it was just a few hours ago. Started when one of your buddies knocked me out cold. Thought you might be able to explain this for me."

A dream? She did not like where this was heading one bit.

Geoff went on. "White walls, roughly twenty chairs…does this sound familiar to you?"

She couldn't take this; as the memories from the incident of three months ago came flooding though, she broke free, sprinting in the other direction. Although it wasn't him she was trying to run away from – it was herself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" she hollered between the tears that came with the memories everytime.

--

They tested the DNA samples.

It was the results they'd been hoping for – the traces left on the toothbrush bristles were definitely those of nineteen year-old Duncan's Hughes', and the single strand of bright red hair clearly belonged to 'Izzy' (her surname could not be identified), no tests necessary.

Satisfied with this, Maclean handed the details to his team, instructing them to investigate the two delinquents further.

"I want you to find anything relevant. If you could find any possibilities as to where they may be hiding, even better. I expect a full-thorough report by six thirty," he offered his trademark smile, one that often spoke for itself, Otherwise I predict a rather drasticdrop in your next paycheck, hmm?

Needless to say, they often did what they were told.

--

She laid, sprawled across the crass, next to the tree they had met.

He was a junior then, and she was the sophomore with a rough past. It was his first day at school, and he arrived on campus, obviously making a big impression. Being twenty minutes early, he leaned back against a random tree, relaxing with a small smirk on his face.

"Hey!" Bridgette heard her own voice, ring in her ears like it had that fateful day. "Are you new here? 'coz everyone else knows this is my tree."

She'd been nature girl back then, spending the majority of her breaks with her father's binoculars pressed over her eyes, pointed towards the sky or other sites of interest. Although she hated to admit it, she still did once in awhile, despite everything else about her that had changed, or at least had the cunning passion of a true environmentalist still lingering somewhere in her heart.

The guy had simply smiled, looking up to face her through the sun, "Really. Well, sorry to say this but, I don't see anyone's name sharpie'd onto this big guy right here." He jerked a thumb towards the tree.

Her cheeks had turned red. "That's not stopping me. This tree isn't mine because I called it, or saw it first or some other stupid reason you may assume I may be using against you, but it's mine because I spend time with everyday, and I care for it and sometimes I even talk to it, regardless of what everyone else thinks, okay?" She concluded, drawing an extra breath.

He looked at her for a smile, his expression unchanged until his smirk grew wider, "I like you," he admitted without shame, talking about the unchanged passion she shared for this very tree, "Nice to meet you, Bridgette."

She never really understood how he'd known her name before she even got the change to introduce herself, until today, when she took another look at her tree, two years later. Turns out, she had sharpie'd her name, right across the middle of the cherry bark.

--

Fred walked into his boss' office a few minutes before six thirty, the papers held tightly in his right hand. With a nervous smile, he placed them on his desk, then slid them down where he was sure to notice them.

Maclean looked up from what he'd been doing, noticing the papers.

"And right on time too," he meant his watch, apparently set three minutes early 'like it always was'. "Guess you can look forward to a proper salary next week, eh?"

The gopher nodded, still sweating bullets through his collar.

His boss scanned over the reports, his eyes widening as they hovered over the words 'York High'. He ordered the team to have the school investigated immediately.

--

Bridgette needed a walk. Yes, a walk would do her good. …she hoped.

Instead of doing rounds about the neighborhood, where everyone would be exposed to her shame, she decided to sneak into the eastwing of her highschool, where she was least likely to bump into anyone she knew after normal school hours.

The halls were bare -- just like she'd expected -- without a single person in sight. She wandered up and down the corridors several times, trying to erase some pressure, when she decided to stop to catch her breath. Her hands pushed down on her knees, she inhaled then exhaled, until all of a sudden something occurred to her.

She wasn't alone.

With her head held low, she crept over each room, pressing her ear against every door trying to figure out where the sounds were coming from.

Finally, as she reached room 209…

"They'll find us, I know it! I've had the same feeling since we got here, and-"

"Relax. Tell me, what are the chances that…" The sentence trailed into a whisper, barely audible for her to make out.

Bridgette froze, hearing the second voice.

It was a voice she knew all too well.

One more chapter to go, then the first arc will be finished. (Y)

Still not much of the epic superhero stuff, since I'm still trying to figure a few things out. Hope you guys enjoyed though. :-)

& Reviews would be awesome, they inspire me to write. :)

- Trish