Heroes Fan Fiction: A Capable Woman: 1/28 Angela/Arthur Cameo: Nathan

Title: A Capable Woman: A Life Story of Angela Petrelli
Author: –Chapter 1 (1/28)
Characters/Pairings (This chapter): Angela/Arthur Cameo: Nathan
Summary: We are not all born full of sin, we acquire it over time.
Chapter One Summary: Angela succumbs to temptation and gets her first lesson in what happens when she reveals her secrets. And on Angela and Arthur’s Angela starts to understand just what her power really is.
Category: General (with a splash of tragic love)
Status: In complete
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Allusion to sex
Spoiler alert: The entire series:

Note: Each chapter is written as one whole, separate, story and be viewed as such. Together they are a life. (For explanation of the entire series see prologue post)

 Thanks: JuneSEA for the beta and the feedback. I could not have done this with out her. 

*Please be sure you have read the prologue before reading Chapter One*

Chapter One:

Before a women is strong, she is weak.

Angela & Arthur
1965

There was nothing but darkness. Nothing but quiet and nothingness as Arthur slept in his bed. He was so sound asleep he didn’t hear his bedroom door open and someone walk in, closing the door behind them.

It wasn’t until Arthur felt the cool hands of his future wife running along his chest that he was awakened from his deep sleep.

"Angie..," he whispered breathing in her scent of Chanel mixed with youth.

"Shusssh, " she whispered in the dark room, putting her perfectly-manicured finger to his mouth, adjusting her nineteen-year-old body on top of him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I want to try again," she said like a gleeful child.

He caught sight of her playful devilish eyes. "Not in the house, kid." He kissed her quickly, as if to say goodbye, but Angela wouldn’t stop going for her goal. He pulled away from her. "Whoa… slow down girl…if our parents catch us…"

Angela smiled, bit her lower lip, and started to unbutton her nightgown.

"As much as I want to…" Arthur really didn't want her to stop. He smiled at her with his all- American, youthful grin.

"We can be quiet…," she whispered.

"Speak for yourself…" He slyly smiled as he let her unbutton his pajama shirt. He ran his hands over her thighs.

She kissed his neck and whispered into his ear, "I had a dream about us last night…"

"Did you?" He pushed aside her long, dark hair and kissed her neck.

"We were married… a long time from now—40… 50 years…"

"Ah hummm…," he humored her as he lowered the straps of her nightgown to kiss her left shoulder. "I'm surprised you hadn't killed me by then…"

"It was soo vivid, the dream, like I could touch it."

Angela wondered if she should tell Arthur about her other dreams, but this was the first dream about her own distant future, it was still all new to her. Angela’s power was evolving and she didn’t even know she had one yet. She called it woman’s intuition, or coincidence. Coincidence that she saw her father’s death when he was all the way across town at the time.

She was fearful to tell anyone, of what they would do to her – how they would treat her. And even after she had met others like herself and knew she wasn’t alone, Angela would be just as fearful of revealing who she was and what she could do, even to her own children, but she would tell herself it was for their, " own good."

Arthur leaned into Angela’s chest and she held him to her, looking off as if remembering it all, "We had two boys…handsome...like you. "

"Did they have names? It will make it a lot easier when we have them, " he joked.

"Nathan and Peter…"

He looked her in the eye. "I was kidding. You named them ?"

"I…I.. didn't? In the dream they…. already had names.…." It occurred to her at that moment this was the case.

"No girls?"

"No?" She was confused. She suddenly was beginning to see this dream wasn’t like her other dreams. Something was different. They seemed more real, not just ideas, visions or shards of moments.

"Angie, if you keep talking this ain't' gonna happen. Everyone gets up in five hours."

"It all just looked so perfect." She gazed into his eyes like the starry-eyed young girl she was. "I didn't think that could be possible?"

"Looks can be deceiving, sweetie." But, he didn’t say sweetie in too sweet of a way.

"They all looked, we all looked so happy."

"Everyone looks happy from the outside, Angie," he said it as if repeating himself. He was ready to stop talking.

"What's that suppose to mean?!" Angela’s fire emerged.

"Nothing. It was just a dream. You want us to be happy, Angie. We are. The future is not written, that's where we come in. We will not be like our parents, I promise you." Arthur was ready to put all the talk of the future to bed.

"I want to be good at this…"

"You will be…," he teased suggestively.

"I want to make you a good wife…"

"You will…" And he kissed her.

"A good mother…"

"You will…" And he lowered her onto the bed.

Angela hoped she’d get pregnant that night.

 At breakfast, Angela and Arthur couldn’t help looking at each other with bedroom eyes. What they didn’t know was they were giving themselves away. Angela’s mother knew it, Arthur’s mother could see it, and Arthur’s father didn’t care.

Arthur’s parents had invited Angela’s mother to join them and the newly-engaged couple at their summer house for the month, in preparation for when they would all be one family – when they would all be connected. It was what the rich and semi-rich did back in the 1960s. Weekends and summers in homes that lay dormant during the winter time, far from the city and prying eyes. For the Petrelli family, it was customary to spend the entire summer out on Long Island. It was a tradition that stopped with Arthur’s parents. Angela liked the city. And besides Angela Petrelli’s future would not be that of living a life of leisure. Not by any means. She would not have time for summers in the country.

After breakfast, Angela knew something was wrong when she eyed her mother talking to Arthur’s mother in hushed tones off in the background of one of the estates musty rooms. She felt worried and sick, that sixth sense seemed to kick in. She didn’t know what it was, but something was about to happen. Angela knew her mother that well. This had nothing to do with dreams.

"Angela," she heard her mother call her name. "May I see you in the library."

Angela’s face grimaced out of her mother’s view. "We’re going to play tennis. When we get back," Angela snapped. She wasn’t kidding when she told her granddaughter years later, where she got her mouth from.

Arthur stood in front of Angela, halfway between her and the front doorway to the outside world and escape.

"Now," her mother’s voice bellowed through the entire house.

Angela knew that meant she would have to listen.

Angela entered the Petrelli’s library while her mother stood behind her in the doorway. Then it all happened in a moment. One second Angela could hear the doors behind her close and the next she felt her hair being pulled and her body flung to the ground. Angela landed smack down on the carpet with a crack, knocking the wind out of her and making her stomach queasy with the shock. She could feel the rug burns on her knees and a stiffness in her back. This was the most physical her mother had ever gotten with her. Yet, somehow she wasn’t surprised.

"You’re sleeping with him, aren't you!" her mother shrilled into her daughters ear. It was a statement not a question.

"I..I..:, "Angela swallowed hard. "He's going to be my husband…" She was shocked by what was going on. What had she done wrong?

"Flaunting it around here. Humiliating me, --you in front of the Petrellis. To tell the world that my daughter will never be a virgin on her wedding night."

"But, Mama." Angela started to cry. She had not yet learned to hold on to her emotion.

Her mother walked toward her slowly. "You’ve never understood the consequence of your actions, child. Your lucky Mrs. Petrelli doesn't throw us out of this house and call off this wedding…"

"No!" Angela exclaimed. "I... I love him… He told me…" She sucked in her tears. "He told me…" She took a breath. "That if I loved him I'd do this for him!"

"You will learn very very quickly little girl that love does not save the world. Your entire generation will. Love does not account for anything in this world. And men like Arthur Petrelli will use it to get what they want from you, Angela. And when you let them, they will have you. And you will be gone. Lost. Always." She said through gritted teeth. " You have been warned -- don't say I didn't warn you?" Her mother walked away from Angela. "Stand up," she demanded.

Angela looked up at her mother, but didn't move. Her eyes were sad and sullen.

"Stand up!" her mother demanded a second time.

 Angela slowly stood, took a deep breath and sucked in the rest of her tears. And for the first time in the conversation Angela looked regal and strong. She was taking control of herself.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Her mother’s face was hard and resolute.

There was a short pause while Angela’s mother waited for a response.

Angela stared down her mother, cold and hard. "I'm sorry that Daddy never loved you the way Arthur loves me." There was fire in her eyes. The seeds of her future self.

Angela's mother slapped Angela across the face, hard. "Your nothing but an insolent, spoiled little girl. You know nothing of the way life works... But one day, Angela, your wicked evil ways will catch up with you; catch up with you and... god. And you will come back with your tail between your legs, but it will be all gone, all gone, you will have wasted it all away… there will be nothing left but ashes. And it will be all your fault." She stood face-to-face with Angela, but Angela wouldn’t take her mother’s gaze. Beatrice leaned in slowly, "And as long as you’re still under my roof, you will not humiliate me in front of god, this community or the Petrellis."

Angela finally looked up at her mother, her eyes hard with held-in rage."Well, soon enough I won't be under your roof anymore, will I?" Angela snapped without even thinking.

And again Angela was slapped across the face by her mother as if it was a knee jerk reaction. This one took Angela a moment to recover from. The slap left her head lowered and her face red, she held her hand to her face.

Angela’s mother walked away from her daughter as she spoke."You’re lucky you've got that pretty face, because that's all you have going for you. " Her mother sat down in a large easy chair to Angela’s right, keeping her in a fuzzy peripheral view." Good to get the rich husband now." It was almost as if her mother was jealous of her own daughter. "Before your blush of youth leaves you. I say in five years tops." She paused and looked at the girl who’s face was still lowered. "Go wash your face." She feigned concern, but it still didn’t remotely sound like anything nice. "This pains me just as much as it pains you, my dear. You’ll soon learn what being a mother means. Then you’ll know. Then you’ll know the pain I feel."

Angela walked quickly out of the room, her head lowered, closing the door behind her and leaving her mother alone.

Beatrice took a long breath, almost a sigh, before reaching her hand out toward a small table on the other side of the room. Across the room, on that very table, a tea cup started to shake, just for a brief moment, before flying across the room and into Beatrice’s hand with only one gesture. She sipped her tea in silence.

ANGELA
A Month Later

The first thing Angela heard was the sound of birds. The sounds of the birds waking up in the dew of a brand new day.

Angela woke up to the crispiness of a June morning, her wedding day. She missed the feel of Arthur at her side, but knew once the day was through he would always be there. There was a hum in the air and for a change Angela felt rested. No bad dreams, nothing to disturb her. The future was at her feet. She out stretched her arms and yawned. She pulled her content body out of her white sheets, dressed only in a small cotton slip with her long tattered hair flowing around her. She had that sun-kissed look only youth can provide.

"Angela!" she heard her name yelled from out the window and down below. "Angela!" her name was bellowed to her as a rough wind blew the white curtains open in her bedroom.

Angela glided over to the window and looked out. Outside on the lawn she found Arthur yelling to her from below. Angela put her hand on her chest and smiled, almost brimming with pride of his love for her. The life they would lead together; the possibilities.

"Angie!" the boy yelled as he threw down his tennis racket and his friends laughed. "Angela! I love you!," he declared in the early morning air.

His friends joked and ribbed him, but to Angela it was the sweetest sight.

"Do you love me, Angie!!?" His whole face looked like a lovesick puppy.

"Yes." she said with all her joy, trying to match his intensity.

"You know boys, I don’t hear her that well, do you?" Arthur kicked off his shoes and ran for the trellis under Angela’s window. He gripped his hands onto the wood thatching pulling himself up toward Angela’s window.

His friends yelled, some liking it, some worried for him. He climbed the wall like a spider finally reaching to the top and his prize, Angela.

"What are you doing?!" Angela laughed. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"What was I gonna do, fly up." He flashed his large grin, the one she couldn’t resist. It was that Petrelli charm.

"That grin is gonna get me in trouble," she joked.

"Ohhh, my dear...." he cooed jokingly. "I plan on it." He kissed her soft and passionately.

The kiss felt so tender, Angela had to set her hands on his face, lightly stroking it when their lips parted.

Arthur was caught with that look in his eyes that young love does to a person.

Angela sent her hand through his hair and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"And adieu my dear princess, I must away with my round table," he joked.

"You’re drunk," she scolded with a sly smile.

"No, drunk was two hours ago, I am now nothing more than wasted ... which means I should feel my hangover coming on any moment now. And now I must away, away with my knights." He turned toward his friends. "Knights we must away!"

"Here, here!," yelled Arthur friends.

"Away!..." And Arthur slipped a little off the trellis.

Frightened, Angela reached out and caught hold of him.

"I’m fine." He looked at his friends. "I’m fine." He looked a little freaked out himself.

"He’s fine!," they yelled, repeating him. "Hip, hip." And they paused. "Huzzah!" they yelled at themselves.

"I live to fight another day..." And he kissed her. "See you at noon, I’ll be the one at the front dressed in black, you can’t miss me." And he made his way down the trellis and back to solid ground. "Don’t worry, kid," he smiled. "You and me we’re gonna change the world, I promise you!" And Arthur ran off with his friends.

Angela turned from the window and bit her lower lip. "He’s gonna marry me." She smiled to herself.

Suddenly the entire room filled with flames, from the ground up. Seething the curtains and the bed, rising up from the corners of the room and over the bed post. Suddenly a young man appeared in the middle of the flames, dressed in a nice suit, an American flag pin on his lapel. She recognized him from her dreams.

"Nathan?" She reached out to him, taking a few steps forward.

"It’s all your fault, Ma," he said with acid tones." It’s all your fault." And then he burst into flames.

Angela woke up in her bed screaming, her heart racing, tears streaming down her face. Her body had that feeling of the cold shakes and her breath was labored.

"Angela!" she heard her name being called to her from outside her window again. It was Arthur, just like before. Just like in the dream. The sound was coming from the lawn below her window.

Angela walked slowly to the window, feeling a sense of dread and deju-vu. She wiped the tears off her cheeks with her fingers and her left arm. She could feel the carpet under her feet, the light breeze hitting her nightgown. She hid halfway behind one of her curtains, unsure, feeling shy and small. She watched Arthur, looking like he had in her dream, walking with his friends, looking just as they had in her dream, walking across the back lawn. And it scared her.

"Angela!" he yelled.

Angela ducked behind the curtain, clinging to the wall, not responding. For a moment she held her breath. When Angela didn’t answer Arthur and his friend’s voices faded from earshot, and off into the distance.

Inside Angela’s bedroom, she hadn’t moved from her spot up against the wall, she hugged her knees. She was scared out of her mind. It was happening again, only worse. The dreams that had slowly started when she was sixteen we’re getting stronger every year with more and more details. She could no longer ignore it. She could no longer throw it away to coincidence. Something was happening to her.

Angela sobbed uncontrollably out of fear. Not for fear of marrying Arthur, but too many different fears all together. She didn’t know what her dream had meant, but it scared the hell out of her. She was scared for herself, for Arthur, for the future. What Arthur would do if he found out her secret? Would he no longer love her? Would he fear her if he discovered what Angela had been slowly figuring out herself, that the dreams she talked about weren’t just dreams, they were visions. But, most of all, Angela cried because she was confused, unsure, lost, not understanding what was going on with her. What was happening? She didn’t want to be odd or different, she just wanted to be normal. She only wanted to live a normal ordinary life. But, what Angela wasn’t, was normal. She was more than ordinary. Angela was extraordinary in so many ways. And she was capable of so much more. A women capable of so much more.

 ~

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