The First Taken

Pairings: Peter/Claire

Summary: In a world where metahumans run wild, and wars are always a possibility, a daughter from the future comes to present time to right the wrong and stop the dawning of a new apocalypse.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, except for more than a few OC characters.

A/N: This started as a story with the word hopeless written on it but I have a rough outline on where it's supposed to go. This first chapter is set 19 years in the future. Please review if you want more of the First Taken!

Let there be mercy when the last has fallen. Let the love stay when the bride has gone. Let God do his job when others give up hope. Let there be a hero when the first is taken.

Chapter One: The Vigilante's Daughter

Dawn broke as the two siblings reached the roof. One was a raven-haired girl carrying a samurai sword behind her back, the other a stern-looking young man with his hands in his trench coat pockets.

"Long time, huh?" the girl asked, looking at the view.

It's the only salvation she had, looking at the view. After everything that happened, after being to hell and back, the view is as beautiful as she remembers it. Blue overlapping with pink in the sky, as surviving birds of the night fill the empty spaces.

"Very," the young man says.

"What's the word from Mom?" the girl looks away from the view to look at her twin brother.

"It's been a tough week. They're talking about closing down the refuge," he says.

The refuge, she remembers. She's spent countless times there, healing the wounded, and mourning the lost. The refuge, simply put, is salvation for tortured metahumans. Men and women pour in everyday in search for hope, in search of heroes in the broken world.

"Why?" the girl asks.

"They're saying that the government isn't letting them accommodate this many terrorists," her companion answers.

Terrorists. The word seems sour to her. Like a knife stabbing her heart. When did they become terrorists? When Hiro Nakamura broke into the FBI? When DL Hawkins killed government men? When was the moment that sent everything awry?

"Michael, do something for me. Don't say that word again," the girl looks at the view again. Michael chuckles at his sister's comment.

"Any casualties?" she asks.

"Mohinder," Michael answers.

Mohinder. The name is everything to her. The man who basically raised her when her father left and the man who taught her of alleles and evolution leaps.

"Hannah, I'm sorry," Michael puts her hand comfortingly on her sister's shoulder.

"You shouldn't be. Everything's been shit since Dad died," Hannah said, looking at her brother.

Michael Gabriel, his full name. She always liked it. It was biblical, saying that Michael would always be her angel. Their parents had always been religious ever since the world broke. When they welcomed twins, it was only appropriate to name them biblical names.

Hannah was brought into the world carrying two beautiful names: Hannah Sarah. The first, her mother explained when she was eight, meant beauty, the second was princess. Truth be told, Hannah never thought she did her names justice. Michael did, though. He fought everyday and there were already people in his debt, calling them their angel.

"How nice I finally get to meet you two," a menacing voice broke Hannah's chain of thought.

The twin siblings turned around and saw a mismatched figure. His left leg was limping, yet that made him even more sinister. The right side of his face was burnt, completely charred.

"Sylar," Hannah said. She drew her sword, preparing to fight.

"You know, your father did the same thing. Pity you have to end up like him," the killer said.

Hannah's heart clenched. She never liked talking about her father, and hearing it from his murderer was much, much worse. She saw Michael taking out his hands from his pockets, revealing a ball of fire in each of them.

"Brilliant. Your father never had time to get that power. I guess I beat him to it," Sylar smiled.

"You don't touch him," Hannah said. She drew her sword so that it touched Sylar's neck.

"I never asked, Hannah, what exactly can you do?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs. Hannah looked at him.

"I can kill you," she said.

He laughed, sending chills down her spine. "No one can kill me. Not after your father tried. And look where it got him," he said.

In her head, she repeated her father's lines like a mantra. Give me a world to save, as she plunged the departed Hiro Nakamura's sword into Sylar's gut. Lend me a heart to love, as she held on to Michael planning to get away. Grant me a life to lead, as she saw Michael's frozen face.

On her brother's back, she felt a sharp tip of her sword. Sylar had risen, and got out the instrument of his makeshift death only to kill another. Take me, Lord, to a better place, as she saw Michael's body drop to the floor, a signal of loss. Sylar crouched down to face him, but instead drew his glare to his agape sister.

Let me get out of this hell, she closed her eyes, the scene disappearing. She was drawn into oblivion and dark spaces. Let me right this wrong was the last line as Hannah Sarah Petrelli landed on earth nineteen years earlier.

A/N: I'm really proud of this first chapter. And yes, to clear up future confusion, Hannah and Michael are the children of Peter and Claire in the future. The saying at the top is written by yours truly. Yes, I didn't know I was poetic, either.

-Aly