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You can find the latest fan fiction at the LiveJournal Community for Niki & Peter called Fated Black

http://www.livejournal.com/community/niki_peter *CURRENT FAN FICTION* You have to join the community to find the most up-to-date information as of May 8th, 2007 entries have been placed on friend locked (for community members only).

Works In Currently In Progress

Untitled – Niki/Jessica & Peter prequel fanfic (PG)

Audeamus – Niki/Jessica, Peter, and Mr. Linderman (R)

“I have to go.”
“No you don’t! You need to stay here, it’s too dangerous.”

“They need me. And I know it’ll be dangerous, but it’ll be okay. I’ll be alright.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but everything will get better if I go with them. Sylar will be destroyed.”

“Please, please come back to me, in one alive piece, Peter. We need you to come home. Safely.”

“I’ll be safe Niki. I have Claire’s powers-”

“That doesn’t mean you’re invincible!”

“I know… I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Claire stared down at the drawing in his hands, unnoticed by him. Her eyebrows stared in surprise what she saw. She could tell that he had sketched an image with Isaac’s future seeing powers, his art work usually stank if he wasn’t telling the future. It wasn’t that he was drawing something, but what he was drawing or more specific who.

After he finished the woman’s hair, Claire asked, “Do you love her?”

Peter turned around in surprise, not having heard her enter the room. He glanced down to the drawing before back up to her. He frowned, knowing he couldn’t lie to her. He lowered his eyes to look at the drawing again.

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to her?” Claire asked, moving towards the front of the couch to sit next to him.

“Because she still loves D.L.…” Peter started, but Claire interrupted him.

“No she doesn’t. What gives you that idea?”

“Because… sh-she spends all her time with him,” Peter stated nervously.

“Come on, Uncle Pete… if your going to lie, then make it seem more believable. She doesn’t spend all her time with him… she spends all her time with you. She’s only with D.L. when we’re hearing our assignments, and to tell him about Micah.” Claire stated, slightly annoyed at Peter’s display of a teenage boy’s angst about girls.

Peter shook his head, not believing what Claire was trying to say.

“Peter, come on… get a clue!” Claire let out a laugh, as she glanced down at the drawing. “You know just as well as I do that you just drew the future. And it’s of you and her. Together. Get a grip and tell the woman of your dreams and future that you love her.”

“I’m not ready… we’re not even dating!”

“Fine… don’t tell her you love her yet, but move your ass and ask her out to a movie or dinner!”

“What about Micah?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves and admires you, and he’s been trying to get you two to spend time with each other these past few months.”

“He has?”

“Yes.”

He was silent for a moment, before he stared up at her watching her eyes, trying to tell if she was lying to him. He nodded slowly, knowing that she wasn’t lying to him. “I’ll ask her out… but I won’t tell her how I feel until it’s the right moment.”

“Great!”

“But you can’t say ANYTHING to anyone.”

“Mum’s the word… got it.”

“Very funny, Claire. Promise you won’t say anything about this picture or what I said?” Peter asked.

“I promise, Peter. I won’t say anything.”

“That includes your diary.”

“I don’t– how did you know I have a journal?” Claire asked curiosity and suspicion.

“I’m your uncle… I know many things.” Peter stated mysteriously with a large smirk.

Claire glared at him, causing Peter to burst into laughter. She grabbed the image from his hands and stared at it. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“Please, Isaac was so much better at it.” Peter stated, waving off the compliment.

“Yeah but he had years of practice. You only had a year. It looks like you could really see all the shades in her hair and dress. You two look so perfect in this,” Claire stated, gently brushing her fingers against the image of Niki’s wedding dress. She smiled happily as she took in the image of the two in a church exchanging the wedding rings.

“Micah… we have something to tell you.” Niki Petrelli started. Micah stopped eating his cereal.

“You and Peter going on another mission?”

“No… nothing like that.” Peter stated.

“What is it then?”

“How do you feel about having a baby brother or sister?”

Micah stared at them before bursting out laughing. Calming down, he asks, “Is this your attempt at telling me you’re pregnant?”

Niki smiled nervously, “Yes.”

“Congrats mom, Peter.”

“You’re okay with this?”

“Why shouldn’t I? You guys are adults and happily married. Besides I always wanted a younger brother or sister.”

“Really?” Niki asked surprised.

“Really, really.”

Glaring at his now empty room, Niki Sanders entered it. Tears welled in her eyes at the memories that came to her as she looked around the room. After slowly making her way to his bed, Niki settled down and held on to his pillow.

As she breathed in the smell of the pillow she could have sworn she could still smell Micah. But that was impossible. As if a dam broke, tears poured from her eyes as she clenched the pillow while she slugged against the bed.

She would never see her son again.

“I love you baby …”

Niki laughed as Peter got hit by the snowball.

With a large smirk lighting his face, Peter yelled out, “I’ll get you!”

Distant laughter was his answer. Niki let out another laugh as Peter made more snowballs. Peter glanced up towards her and smirked. He then glanced at Micah who popped out from behind a tree and grinned towards him.

Before Niki had a chance to see what they were doing she was hit with several snowballs, which unbalanced her and she fell on her butt causing Micah and Peter to laugh at her.

“You two are SO getting it.”

“Footfalls echo in the memory/ Down the passage which we did not take/Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind.” – T.S. Eliot (Four Quartets)

Peter went to Issac’s again, it wasn’t enough he saw the cheerleader, he needed more clues, and more answers to the images that besieged him the night before.

“How do you do it, man?” Issac passed him a cup of coffee as they stared at the paintings scattered across the room.

“I dunno. I just have to center myself somehow and just want it enough.” He explained while his attention was drawn to a painting at the far end of the room.

A corner of a semi-painted canvas protruded out, revealing a strange symbol at the edge.

“You sound like that guy from the karate kid.” Issac responded sarcastically. He couldn’t look at Peter without imagining his drawings of Simone in the rain. He missed the way she looked at him, and how she felt under his touch. Everything was different now; he had to be friends with Peter. The guy was the only one who could help him; the only one to believe him.

“What’s that over there?” Peter walked over to the painting and took it out. It was a semi-portrait of a woman, her face painted across the canvas, revealing a smile. She was charismatic, and Peter soon felt his thoughts narrow as the room began to blur.

He saw her sitting alone, staring at a mirror; blond hair tracing the contours of her face, her eyes pleading for help and solace. He reached out to touch the reflection in the glass, when in an instant Peter felt his body fall over. Suddenly thrust forward in time, Peter’s sensation heightened, making everything around him vivid and clear: The smooth flavor of champagne on his lips, and the look of rapture in her pale blue eyes. It wasn’t enough he could feel her fingers course through his hair, and hold on tight. His hands gripped taut and firm against her hip, as he felt the softness of each curve move in a steady momentum. Above them, an array of starlight loomed across a desert sky. Lost in the throes of intense emotion, everything suddenly came to a halt.

The space around him turned grey. He was isolated and alone until he saw someone in the foreground approach him. It was her again, the woman in the mirror; wearing nothing but a fitted strapless red gown, approaching him in slow strides. In her hand she held a folded letter.

“What is this?” he found himself saying aloud, as the woman looked down at her open palms now where covered with blood. Peter stared horrified at her marked hands. “I don’t understand… who you are?” he pleaded once more.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as Peter stepped closer. Hesitantly, she took a step back and turned up to the sky where suddenly rain poured down on both of them. The blood now mixing with water, created rivulets on the floor, spelling out the name: NIKI.

Peter awoke on the floor on the floor to the sound of his own screams.

Across the way, Issac sat staring in disbelief, a cautious look turned to concern as he approached Peter. “Man, I couldn’t stop it. You zoned out…and when…when I touched your shoulder you collapsed. I didn’t know what to do…you had that look in your eyes…and—oh god, are you okay? I didn’t know what to do.” Issac hovered close by. “Do you need me to help you up? I would…but man, your abilities…I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No…it’s, just.” Peter sat up slowly, and noticed a new painting on the easel. It was the woman in his vision. She was in the desert, her arms outstretched as if pleading for something. “Did I make that?”

“Yes, and I wasn’t about to stop you either.” Issac moved over to the kitchen and began to fill a glass with water. “I don’t know for certain but what you said, and how you were screaming? I don’t believe that’s happened to me.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked as Issac handed him the glass.

“Trust me, Peter. I’d have the cops here sooner to lock me away in a loony bin.”

“I don’t understand what happened…I’ve absorbed abilities before, but this is…” Peter put a hand to his forehead as his mind throbbed with the images and feelings. Who was Niki? What happened to her?

“Hey, you still there?” Issac took a seat beside him, “There’s more than one way to see the future. What you do, what you’re capable of doing, Peter? I don’t like to admit it, but it’s stronger than what I can do now.”

“But this was…it was intense. I don’t know what to do.”

“Heh, welcome to my world, Petey.” Issac got up and started to collect his brushes and paints scattered amongst the floor. “If I were you, I’d find Niki.”

“Wait, how did…” he turned and looked up to him.

“You were talking the whole time. You said her name twice.” Issac walked over to a separate canvas. “And you kept drawing this.”

Peter was astounded; it was the tattoo on her shoulder, the symbol, traced all over the canvas. “What about the cheerleader? What about Hiro?” Peter couldn’t get his bearings straight. All he could do was feel, feel the woman’s panic, fear, and sadness.

“You got Hiro on the phone, and I’m piecing together the clues about the cheerleader. We’re in this together, Peter. We don’t have a choice. That woman is important somehow…you have to find her. She’s your vision, not mine.” He finished explaining before walking off to the kitchen, leaving Peter alone.

“Be the one we need.” Hiro once told him. Though the road ahead lay cloaked in fog; there was no turning back now, there were more people out there who needed him, more people to save. It was his destiny.

Just ignore it, block it out. Peter was trying to convince himself to do these things, to ignore the fact that he was still seeing…something, someone. Very vague, only blurry movements of vibrant colors. It would come and go, here one second and then gone the next. He needed sleep. Surely sleeping would give it time to go away, to dissipate. The powers of precognition that he’d somehow absorbed from Isaac earlier that night were still not gone. Not as strong as they were, he was certain that he couldn’t paint a picture of what he saw this time, but the power was there still. Laying down in bed, he was still trying to tell himself that this would go away with rest.

Not long afterwards he was asleep and dreaming. Somewhere in his state of sleep his mind realized that this was not a dream; it was sometime in the future. A fairly small house, somewhere near the desert. Arizona or Nevada, maybe. Inside he saw the makings of any home, pictures around, what-nots, and then he was in a bedroom. There was a woman lying on her stomach on the floor. What he could see of her face, the part that wasn’t against the carpeted floor, was exceptionally pretty. Her most defining feature, though, was the long blonde, wavy hair that was fanned out over her back and shoulders so perfectly that it seemed like it had been placed there on purpose. Peter wasn’t sure exactly why he was seeing this because it didn’t seem important in any way. But as his dream persisted, he saw a flash of movement in the corner of the frame of the dream. Peter looked around, suddenly aware that he was standing in the bedroom. Of course, that was impossible. He was only seeing the scene from the room, only a ghost in it all. Looking to his left, he noticed another man in the room. Dark-skinned and muscular, seemed very…tough, from just looking. He was talking to a small boy, who kept glancing nervously at the blonde woman on the floor. His Mother, maybe? And this man, his Father?

Peter tried hard to hear what was being said but no, what was left of Isaac’s power wouldn’t allow for it. The woman moved a little, her eyes opening. The man stood and Peter expected him to go to her. But he did not do that, he only grabbed the boy’s hand and led him from the room. Within a few moments the woman was waking up, looking around cautiously. Her eyes widened and she stood shakily, hurrying from the room. Peter followed behind, stopping when she did, finding himself peering into the room of a child. Micah was spelled out in letters on the wall. The little boy. Blonde woman turned around, looking like she was going to cry. She let out a frustrated scream and Peter knew that she had yelled her son’s name. Micah.

The images in front if him slowly started to break and blur, water color paints running together. He wanted to know more about this, about the woman who’s image was slowly starting to fade out of his mind and the little boy whom he had seen taken only a few minutes earlier.

Peter woke up, his mind still trying to wrap around what he had seen. There was a change of plans for a moment. He was putting the cheerleader whom he’d painted a picture of earlier in the back of his mind for a few moments. What he had just seen was important, this woman needed help just as much as the young girl did. Now he had both of these things to worry about. Saving this girl in a cheerleader uniform meant something completely different and Peter found himself unable to choose what he should do. You can do both, you have to.

Find the woman, find the little boy. It was his current and most important priority, he decided, and he had better get to work. After all, he didn’t even know her name.

Written By: Nic

Disclaimer: I don’t own “Heroes”

thx to Ann (AJeff) for beta reading

There was only one reason why Nathan did what he had done. Protection. He protected Peter and himself about the truth. Who the hell would have believed that they could fly? Everyone would have thought they were crazy. So, he had done what any slime ball of a person running for political office would do. There were things in life sometimes no one has control of, but, are dealt the best way possible. Nathan had done his best. He chose a cover to save his sorry ass and humiliate his own flesh and blood.

Nathan knew that his younger brother hated him for what was said. But, he thought this was the one and only right words which would explain his brother’s actions. No one, but, no one would ever know their brotherly secret, that they could fly, spread their wings and soar like an eagle.

There was another reason why Nathan had lied. Peter would publicly talk about his special powers and did not care if it was heard by anyone. So, like any big brother protecting his little brother, he made people believe that Peter was actually out of his mind if he talked about flying. And there was no chance in hell that he would allow the truth. Afterall, he was running for Congress, for god’s sake.

Peter would never forgive the hurt Nathan brought upon him, nor would he ever have understood the reason why he had done what he did.
FIN Fan Fiction. Net (story link)