Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to the NBC Network.
A/N: This was an idea for a potential power. This is just a one-shot, or a pilot for it. Don't think I'll continue though, I don't feel I know enough about the series.
Las Vegas USA
"Ladies and gentlemen, get your hands together and give a warm welcome to the Master of Disappearance, all the way from the outback of Australia, Shane D. Curtis!"
The curtains rose, lights flashed on and off, smoke rose from the stage. A shadow appeared from within the smoke and walked out, a young man in a simple white shirt and jeans. He raised a hand as the audience clapped loudly. Slowly they calmed, leaving nothing but the pounding beat of a techno song going.
The young man gave a sheepish smile. "Uh, hi, everyone, or should I say 'G'day Mate'? Wouldn't be right without it, hey? Oh, and before anyone asks – no, the initial 'D' in my name doesn't stand for 'Disappear', it's actually Daniel." The crowd gave an appreciative laugh. The man's smile widened. "I'm real glad to be here tonight to show you some magic and mystery. Let's hope I can get some big 'oohs' and 'ahhs' outta ya. Well, let's start the show off with something big!"
A pair of stagehands wheeled in a large box, nothing more than a metal frame on wheels. Shane picked up a cane and tapped around inside it to prove there were no mirrors. Another stagehand handed him a bundle of material, which he proceeded to shake out and turn around. In a fluid movement, he threw it over the metal frame, covering the inside from view. The music intensified as he stepped inside, waving a solitary hand before pulling it in. The lights flashed once and the cloth fell down. There was nothing. The crowd stared in awe, wondering what had happened.
The spotlight moved to a table in the middle of the room. A pair of women screamed as their table moved and the magician that had been on stage emerged from under the tablecloth. The man bowed as the room applauded and cheered. He turned to the women, apologising thoroughly.
"Sorry, ladies," he said, producing a flattened top hat from his jacket. "Please, take these as a token of my appreciation there." He flipped the top of the hat out and reached inside, pulling out one bunch of flowers and then another. He pulled out a rabbit as well. "Whoops, how'd that get in there?" he laughed, putting it back in before flattening the top again. The crowd clapped.
Shane ran up to the stage and bowed again. He looked over the crowd, still clapping for him. He smiled, an old realisation popping up once more, reminding him that once not too long ago, life had been much different for him.
New South Wales, Australia, one year ago
What am I doing in a backwater place like this? The young man leaned against a white-painted windowsill. The air was still, and stifling at that. The sky was barren, just like the fields that spread out from the view of the window, broken only occasionally by a few lines of scraggly trees and bushes. A windmill stood in the distance.
Shane ran his hand through his hair. Though it was only just coming up sunrise, there was a lot of heat in the air. He felt like he hadn't even just stepped out of the shower – not that it had been much of one – the water tanks had been running low lately.
"No wonder the place is dying," the young man muttered to himself.
He was right. It had been years since the farm had gotten a good downpour. Rain was rare these days if you lived inland. They weren't that too far off from the mountains, but still, the rain always managed to miss them.
"Almost like a curse." Shane's attention was interrupted by noises coming from the hallway.
"Hey, Shane! You awake yet? Come on, Mate, I wanna get moving!"
"I'm up, Graham!" yelled the young man back, scrambling to grab some clothes on – a red flannel shirt, jeans, work boots, and wide-brimmed hat. He walked out to the hallway and towards the kitchen. Graham had taken a seat at the kitchen table already. He was an older man, a bit grizzled with a short-fused temper, but a good guy all the same.
"Come on, come on, get a move on," urged the man.
"Graham, take a breather, why don't you, Dear? No need to get all riled up so early in the morning." His wife Dot placed a piece of toast with an egg on it on the table before him. She was a bit of a large-ish woman, but she had an endearing twinkle in her eyes and a determined smile on her face.
Graham grumbled and stuck a fork into the egg. Orange yolk bled out from it. "Yes, Sweets, I know. But young Shane's going to the pub again tonight for another one of his shows, so we gotta get as much work done today as we can." He turned to the young man as he sat down on the opposite side. "The blokes down at the pub seem to really like your tricks."
"I've been working on them," replied Shane, accepting his own plate from Dot. "But I still can't get a lot of the disappearing ones right. My sleight of hand isn't good enough."
"Oh, don't worry, Love. I'm sure you'll get them sooner or later," the older woman reassured him. "All great magicians start of somewhere. One day you'll probably be making elephants disappear into thin air. Just like magic!"
Graham gulped down a piece of toast and waved his fork at her. "There's no such thing as magic, Dot. It's all smoke and mirrors."
"I know that," said the woman. "Don't ruin my fun though. And don't wave forks at people either. It's bad manners."
"Fine, fine." Graham went back to eating. The kitchen went quiet for a second. A crow cawed outside.
Shane's lips twitched in a smile. It'd been at least a year and a half since he'd come to the farm called 'Garaguru'. The name was somewhat ironic, meaning 'cloud' in Aboriginal, but the farm hardly ever saw one. He glanced up at Graham and Dot briefly, thinking about how much determination they had to survive in such a bleak situation. It had really struck a chord with Shane when he had first moved in.
"Stop dawdling, Mate. Come on." Graham stood up and grabbed his hat off the table. He quickly leaned over and gave Dot a peck on the cheek. "See ya at lunch, Sweets."
"See you later, Dear," his wife replied.
The tractor bumped up and down across the field, turning the soil over and over again as it went. It reached the end of the field and pulled up to a stop. Shane turned off the engine and hopped out. He wiped the sweat from his brow. A breeze picked up, blowing up a small whirlwind of dust and dead leaves nearby. Shane looked back up into the tractor. He groaned, remembering he had left his water bottle back at the house.
"Damn," he muttered. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wheel of the tractor. The heat was too much, and he was parched. In his mind, he could see the kitchen clearly, and his blue water bottle there sitting on the small table near the doorway where the phone was.
How he wanted that water right now…
Shane opened his eyes with a jerk as he felt something fall on his foot. He looked down at the ground. A blue water bottle gently rolled back and forth, water sloshing around inside. Shane tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"The hell…?" He bent down and picked it up. It was definitely his water bottle. But… how…? As he stared at it, he again saw in his mind the kitchen, the water bottle standing back on the table.
The water bottle in his hand vanished. He leapt back with a shock, bumping into the wheel of the tractor. He clutched at the tire, his heart pounding. A dark shadow cast across the sky, making him regain his senses. Shane looked up into the sky before shielding his eyes. The sun was slowly vanishing behind a black circle, leaving a fiery halo of light.
An eclipse? Shane asked himself, staring up at the spectacle. The eclipse was soon over though. Shane shrugged to himself and climbed back up into the tractor. Today's playing tricks on me it seems. This heat is enough to drive anyone mad. He reached for the keys to turn the engine on. His hand paused. Tricks?
Maybe he was going mad? Flies buzzed angrily around his head. Shane shooed them away. He looked down at his hand, flexing it gently. His thirst for water returned, worse than before. The picture of the kitchen returned in his mind, the water bottle standing out to him.
It appeared in his hand.
Shane's arm started to shake. The water in the bottle splattered against the plastic.
"This… can't be real…" The young man stared down wide-eyed at the bottle in his hand. He glanced at his other hand, curiosity filling him. He flexed it again, this time thinking of his pack of cards in his room, sitting on a shelf. Time passed, but nothing.
I guess I have to want it… he thought, thinking about how much he had wanted the water. He squeezed his eyes shut, making himself feel like he was desperate to have the cards.
A weight appeared in his hand. Shane opened his eyes, seeing a stack of playing cards in his hands. He dropped the water bottle and clamped a hand over the top of the cards. He began to laugh, nervous at first, but growing more and more confident.
Was it a dream come true? A grin swept over his face.
"All great magicians start somewhere, hey?"
Las Vegas, a year later
The crowd was cheering. Shane bowed before running off stage. He took a deep breath as he entered his dressing room. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Even after all this time it was somewhat overwhelming. He put his hand to his sweating forehead, a white handkerchief appearing in his hand as he did. He wiped at the sweat.
"So finally I get to meet the famous Mr Curtis," mused a voice. The room shifted and churned, looking like heat waves. A young woman appeared, leaning against the wall near the lighted mirror. "You're not the only one who can pull a couple tricks." She strutted forward, heels clicking against the floor.
Shane raised his hand, a gun suddenly in it and his finger on the trigger. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled. "A fan, I suppose. But I know an even greater fan who'd like to meet you. You've heard of Mr Linderman, haven't you?"
A/N: Well, I hope you found it interesting!