Set pre-series. Only quiet, extremely mild hints at femslash. Don't like? What the hell are you doing here then? (grins) Don't own Heroes, despite best efforts otherwise. C'mon Kring, have a heart! Reviews help me get better (you don't want to be responsible for me polluting fanfiction with more crap, do you?), so let me know what you think.


There's a moment, right before I wake.

…I-I'm not sure what it is. But -for a split second- I can almost swear that there's someone with me. In my bed. There never is, of course. But this sensation weirdly never falls anywhere in the freaky 'psycho-stalker-playing-mind-games' catergory. If such a thing even exists.

It's an odd, but immensely comforting warmth that surrounds me; like someone is wrapping themselves around my soul, trying to shield me from harm. As if it can see the strain I try so hard to hide from the rest of the world. As if whatever it is wants to protect me from my problems, or just show in some small way that they care. And that I am not alone.


I just realised that I'm attributing emotions to a delusion.

Yep, thought so. That sounded just as stupid out loud as it did in my head.

I swear, if I had the money, I would go get some serious therapy. God knows I need it. Or maybe I just need to go out and have some fun once in a while.

Sounds like Micah's already up. I better go make breakfast before he takes apart the toaster to make a radio or something...just last week he took apart the microwave to make a new TV...That kid never stops surprising me.

"Are you still here?"

Great. Now I'm talking to it. If I'm not careful, I'll imagine it replying and then where the hell will I be? One-way ticket to Crazy-ville, that's where -population: me, myself and I.

"Look, if you are, I just want to say…thanks. You've made the past few months weirdly easier to deal with. And…if you ever want to stay after I wake up…well, I wouldn't mind the company. It's been lonely with D.L. in jail."

Feeling undeniably foolish, Nikki slowly rolls to her feet and stretches, cat-like, before throwing open her closet. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she pulls her crimson robe off the full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door and struggles to put her arms through the sleeves as she heads for the bedroom door without a backwards glance.

Because of this, it's no surprise that she misses the sight of her reflection watching her departure longingly, a faint but fond smile on her lips as she mouths a single word.