"The human body has long been considered indistinguishable from personhood. We are the products of our physical form. All the chemicals and hormones present in the body affect our own sense of identity. What is the nature of the body in contrast to the mind? Is who we are merely a body, or is the mind independent from such things? Is the soul an immutable identity merely inhabiting a series of bodies like exchangeable garments, or does the soul change with each body it possesses? Perhaps if we were to understand this, we would be one step closer to understanding the meaning of life itself."
–The diary of Mohinder Suresh

Peter slunk toward the crowd in his dark coat. This was the moment where it all turned to hell. His brother would out them all, send the world into darkness. He would prevent that. He would save the world.

"I have the ability," Nathan began…

Peter didn't let him finish. He flipped up the gun and shot two rounds into his brother's body. By the time the screaming started, he calmly turned and walked away.

It was done!

The dystopian world from which he came would never again exist!

He was a hero. He saved the world.

No, not yet. He still had to sculpt the timeline to ensure everything went according to plan. He had to make certain Nathan died, and for that he needed to remove an obstacle, namely himself.

Footsteps pounded behind him. His old self and Matt Parkman came after him. He led them in a chase, stashing the gun, and hurrying into a bathroom. As his 2007 counterpart came in after him, he thought of Hiro Nakamura and froze time.

"Hello, Peter," he greeted his frozen counterpart, who unsurprisingly didn't answer.

He needed to put his old self in a place where he wouldn't muck up the works. Closing his eyes, he thought about Avi, the old man who tried to possess President Petrelli back in 2009. Avi had held a commanding presence, despite being gaunt in physique. He'd made Peter feel intimidated…

He opened his eyes, feeling the power to manipulate souls within him. He reached out and grabbed his counterpart around the waist, forcing him to depart the physical realm and enter that of the spiritual, changing from a solid body into an insubstantial soul.

He stared at the soul in his hands, knowing it to be his. "Wow," he whispered. The words were empty, as insubstantial as the life in his hands. This frozen purgatory was nothing but a cold silence where nothing would ever happen naturally. It chilled him. Time to go.

He thought about Hiro, how the time traveler had given him hope that he could be a hero and one day save the world, as he thought about the Primatech Research building in Hartsdale. The company building appeared around him. Good. He just needed to get down to Level 5 and secure this soul into the body of one of its prisoners.

The company prison was one of the best in the world. As far as he knew, they had never had an escape on a level as secure as Level 5. It would be a fine place to park the soul while he went to save the world…

He stopped walking when he saw her.

Elle Bishop, the sociopath with electrical powers who once tormented him for weeks on end, rested lightly on a bench. She flipped through a magazine with a bored expression on her face. She was beautiful.

He took a couple of steps toward her, even as the life in his hands grew heavier with each passing second. Elle… He knew he should hate her for how she treated him, but whether by sure happenstance or by her own nefarious design – he never could tell for certain – he came to feel a fondness for his ex-captor. Elle might have even felt the same way toward him. Once.

They were on different sides. It never would have worked out. And Elle eventually fell for his brother Gabriel, so there never was a chance to find out.

He reached out a hand as if to brush the hair out of her face, but halted before he touched her. The hefty weight of the soul in his grip suddenly became impossible to ignore. He would have to release his counterpart soon. He looked back at Elle, the woman he once loved, and made an abrupt change of plans.

Elle was in many ways a prisoner of the company as much as the people in its cells. Her movement was restricted to the building, and she was strictly monitored. That was enough for him.

He pushed his 2007 counterpart into Elle's body, feeling her consciousness recede. Before his younger self could take control, he grabbed onto Elle's shoulders and pushed into his counterpart's mind. "Your name is Elle Bishop. You won't behave out of the ordinary."

Elle's eyes stared into his, and he felt his counterpart's mind acknowledge his orders. He relaxed and let go. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Peter," he muttered to himself. "You'll miss her more than you know."

Glad that his younger self was now safely stored away, he teleported back to New York. He had a timeline to sculpt.


Peter blinked slowly.

Where was he? What happened?

He was sitting on a bench in what looked like a hospital hallway, something in his hands. He held up his hand and saw he was holding some women's magazine. Someone else was holding onto it too. He saw her hand on the same page.

"I'm sorry," he started, turning to address the woman sitting next to him but there was no one there. His voice sounded odd, rather high-pitched. He cleared his throat as he looked around in confusion.

He looked back at the hand, and noticed the silver filigree ring on her index finger. It was familiar enough that he knew instantly who it belonged to. "Elle," he stated the very familiar name, as he tried to spin around and catch sight of the sadist.

There was no one behind him, and the hand only followed his movement. An unusual amount of hair fell against the back of his neck, longer than he ever kept it. He reached up with his right hand, and stopped to stare at the hand. It was a woman's hand. More to the point, it was Elle's hand.

Elle. The name felt so familiar. He knew it as his former captor's name, but he could identify strongly with it. It felt like his name.

He tilted his head downward and felt his eyes widen as he took in what he saw. He was wearing a low-cut blue blouse, revealing real breasts attached to his chest, as well as a skirt in the same shade that revealed his knees or rather Elle's knees.

He was Elle Bishop.

"What the f-"

[Cut to title:]


[Fade to black.]

Author's Note: :D This is such an unusual idea. I came up with it a while ago while brainstorming. I was so convinced it was the original idea… and then thought of a million comparisons. Aw, well.