Mirror Image

AN: Thanks for the review, Maiafay! I should've known you would be the first to give me feedback. ;)

The reasons why this fic was "sporked" for a while, as you put it, run along a couple different veins. I tell you more about it in an email if you want. One of them is probably the OC/AU factor. There's a reason for Alessa's situation, one which I think most fans would approve of. But maybe some people couldn't wait a few chapters for the answers. And as you'll see, Alessa's current status is meant to contrast drastically with Heather's.

I'm still editing the version on ff.net, so there's one good reason not to peek. Not to worry though, it wouldn't be that bad if you did. The story's only up to chapter 4 over there, so it's not like there are any big spoilers yet (unless you count some minor musings by Alessa). I've just had issues with the breaks between updates. My goal is to have both versions up to date soon, so that I can ago ahead with chapter 5.


Chapter 2 – Two Different Lives


On the outskirts of Central City, in a rather affluent neighborhood, lay a house with an infamous history. Though not as large as some of the other residences nearby, the house was beautiful and imposing, maintaining a conspicuous presence at the center of the estate grounds. However, it was the manor’s unique background which truly made it notable among all the other houses in the area.

It was this extraordinary place Alessa Summers called home.

She drove up to the garage at the wheel of a 2001 Lincoln Continental. She stepped out of the car and locked the doors, giving a fond glance at the vehicle’s silver metal body.

She had gotten the car for her sixteenth birthday. It was one of the two most notable presents she received that day – one from her father, the other from her best friend at the time. Both gave Alessa a sense of happiness and freedom she had never felt before. The car was a fabulous gift and a symbol of Alessa’s burgeoning independence as a young woman. As for the latter gift…well, it was certainly another major step on her path to adulthood.

It started when she made a passing comment that she could really use a car of her own, instead of relying on her father or friend to get around. Alessa’s father owned several vehicles, but they were strictly off-limits to her; all three were unsuitable for an inexperienced driver. Besides, Alessa made it clear she wanted something all her own.

Her father thought long and hard about what kind of car he would buy her. Alessa knew little about cars, so she wasn’t exactly a big help. Chris mostly asked her about things like the color and overall look, sometimes pointing out particular vehicles at different car lots they saw. He decided on most of the features himself, since he wanted it to be a surprise.

When the day finally came to unveil the big present, Alessa couldn’t have been overwhelmed. Nobody had ever done something this nice for her. And for her sixteenth birthday too! She was used to people manipulating her and treating her like crap. That someone would take the time to get her such get her such a great present, even if it was her dad, spoke more to Alessa than any amount of money could. Rather than just shrug off her birthday, or get her something thoughtless, he had actually listened to her and gotten her something she could use and appreciate.

The Lincoln was as fine an automobile as anybody could want. Highly comfortable and loaded with features, it was spacious and safe, while maintaining an air of stylish refinement that didn’t automatically scream out “wealthy”. Stylish enough in fact, that the people who frequently tormented Alessa at her high school could find little to say about her brand new car. It wasn’t one of their high-priced sports cars, but it was a damn good luxury car, and they all knew it.

Much like the Lincoln, the home in which she lived spoke well about its owners. The house wasn’t as big as some of the others in the area, a couple of which could almost be considered castles in their scope. Yet despite its modesty, the estate was a fabulous home in a great area. In this case, the house also came complete with its own one-of-a-kind folklore.

When Chris first arrived in Central City, he wasn’t looking for anything fancy. After an incident that befell his family many years prior, Chris had left his hometown behind. Devastated by the harrowing personal loss, he drifted aimlessly from place to place, never quite recovering from his ordeal. He served time in the military and spent most of his days living out of hotel rooms, small temporary apartments, or whatever quarters he was assigned if he was staying on a base. After he retired at the age of 34, he had virtually nowhere to go.

That was when he came across the old estate on the edge of Mt. Rainier, a neighborhood a cut above the usual. As soon as he laid eyes on the property, Chris was immediately drawn to it. The grounds were beautiful, composed of an elegant array of gardens and walkways secluded at a generous distance from the rest of the neighborhood. The house itself had roots in the 1800’s, with an architectural style that was sophisticated and beautiful without being too extravagant. The inside of the house was equally as gorgeous and was as spacious as any single person could possibly desire.

Chris was dubious at first. It wasn’t the sum the realtor was asking for, which oddly enough, was much lower in market value than other nearby properties. He had received an inheritance the year prior from an old acquaintance of his father, which more than covered the cost. No, the reason he was hesitant was because he simply wasn’t used to it. He had never lived in such a large house before, and he never expected to have as much money as he did now. He valued his solitude, but the thought of living alone in such a huge place left him just a little unsettled.

Of course, the asking price did give him pause to consider. If the home cost so much less than other houses in the area, there had to be something wrong with it. And sure enough, the house was in a mild state of disrepair. But that wasn’t the reason why the asking price was so low.

“The house is haunted,” the real estate agent told him with a smile. “People say you go insane in here, if you spend too much inside. At least that’s what the rumors are.”

“I’m not afraid of ghosts,” Chris had replied. “Lord knows I have enough of them in my own past.”

That more than anything had convinced the realtor agent that perhaps this man was not like the other clients. He would not be frightened off by ghost stories, and if there was anything to those stories (which the agent doubted), then this guy could probably handle them. Besides, Chris liked a mystery, and he didn’t hesitate to tell the agent as such.

He’d moved in shortly afterwards; fixed the few things wrong with the house, added some touches of his own, and generally restored it to its former splendor. He’d looked into the stories of bizarre occurrences obviously, slowly piecing together the history of the house. And sure enough, he had indeed found something incredibly amazing.

The stories couldn’t be more wrong. No, the house wasn’t haunted. It was something far more powerful than that.

Alessa entered the house and locked the door behind her.

“Mom, I’m home,” she called out from the foyer.

“In here,” came back the reply.

Alessa went into the living room. There, sitting in the recliner reading a Star Wars novel, was her mother Julie.

“Hi mom,” Alessa greeted her mother.

“Hi sweetie,” Julie greeted back. She stood up to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

Julie Summers was a tall long-haired woman thirty-nine years of age. One wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her, though. Her face had only the faintest hints of lines forming and there was nary a gray hair to be found in her beautiful raven locks, the same lustrous hair Alessa had also been gifted with. People often commented on the resemblance between mother and daughter, sometimes believing them to be sisters at first glance due to Julie’s striking youthfulness. Not surprising really, given that Julie was barely twenty when she gave birth to Alessa.

What was not obvious on the surface was that Julie Summers was not your everyday run-of-the-mill parent. Alessa never allowed herself to forget that. Their past was as troubled as it was complicated, and not a day went by where she didn’t realize how lucky she was to have such a special woman in her life.

To any strangers who happened to encounter them, Alessa and Julie’s relationship seemed like the perfect mother-daughter team. They got along very well, talked to each other about everything, and were not afraid of being open with their feelings for one another.

But that was merely the tip of the iceberg. What very few people outside their family would ever realize was how much work the two women had put into making their relationship what it was today. The bond they shared between them did not develop overnight. Nor was it the result of a consisted, uninterrupted long period of time together, as it was for most children close to their parents. In fact, Julie was actually absent from Alessa’s life for over ten years of her upbringing. No, the relationship Alessa and her mother cherished today was as much a miracle as the circumstances responsible for Alessa simply being alive today.

Alessa preferred not to think about the circumstances that had torn them apart, or the other important person in her past. The one had caused everything and sentenced her to a living purgatory. That person had waived the right to any part in Alessa’s memory the day that she betrayed her.

“You’re home early. How was the mall?” Julie inquired.

“It was okay. There weren’t a lot of things on sale.” She paused. There was no easy way to explain the magnitude of what had occurred today at the mall. How could she say to her mom what happened? ‘Hey mom, you’ll never guess what happened today’ seemed a little too clichéd. ‘Mom, remember what Dad told you about alternates?’ didn’t seem quite appropriate either.

More to the point, would Julie even believe her? She could barely believe it herself. What were the chances of running into someone who was your exact duplicate without some kind of bizarre cosmic disturbance being involved? About the same as Alessa ever going back to her hometown, that was for sure.

Julie picked up on her troubled demeanor. “Are you okay?”

Alessa shook away the mixed thoughts. “Yeah, why?” she said with forced casualness.

The other narrowed her eyes, obviously not believing her. She looked over Alessa closely, crossing her arms with an expression that made Alessa squirm with uneasiness.

“Did something happen at the mall?”

“No, of course not,” Alessa said, a little too quickly in Julie’s eyes.

“Alessa…”

That lecture tone that all mothers used when they wanted to pry some information out of their kids; Alessa hated it.

“Mom, I’m fine,” she insisted, groaning with exasperation. “It’s just…”

She pondered whether to say something. Alessa wasn’t comfortably lying to her mother. It was the fact they could be so honest with each other that was the reason for their good relationship. But perhaps, some things were better kept to oneself.

“I didn’t find the game I was looking for. I’m a little disappointed,” she finished lamely.

Her mother stared at her suspiciously. Julie wasn’t stupid. She knew something was bothering her daughter. But if Alessa didn’t want to talk about it, then she just didn’t want to talk about it. Julie wasn’t going to force her to; she wasn’t that kind of mother. Besides, she knew Alessa would open up to her eventually.

“I understand. But that’s no reason to get upset,” she said.

“I know.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and play something? I’ll be up in a minute,” Julie suggested.

“Sure. Hey Mom, where’s Dad?”

“Downstairs, playing with those infernal gadgets of his,” Julie replied disdainfully.

“Come on, Mom, you know they keep us safe,” Alessa said.

“Yeah, I know. But still…what is it with men and their toys?”

“Oh please. Like you're not the same way with the GameCube,” Alessa scoffed.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Mom, you spend more time on it than I do,” Alessa pointed out.

“Well…” Julie frowned, trying to come up with a good excuse. Finding none, she reluctantly conceded Alessa’s point. “Well, so what if I do? It’s a long day!”

Alessa merely laughed, savoring her minor victory. She went to head up to her room when her mother noticed something unusual.

“Hey Alessa, where’s your cell phone?”

“Huh?”

“Your cell phone. I don’t see it with you,” Julie stated.

Shoot! Alessa fished for any possible answer she could give save the real one. Hiding the truth about a strange, yet probably meaningless encounter with someone at the mall was one thing. Losing a cell phone that contained all their numbers and could be traced back to them was something else entirely. Who knew what kind of psychos would take that information and use it to track them down just for the hell of it?

And God forbid that other girl herself got her hands on it…

That would certainly be Julie’s line of thinking. They had good reason to be paranoid, after all. Yep, there was no doubt about it. Julie would be pissed, and so would her dad. It was against her nature to be so careless; they had taught her better than that.

“Oh. I uh…” Think fast, she told herself. “I left it back in the car,” she hurriedly got out.

“Oh. I’ll get it for you then.” Julie started to walk.

“No! I mean, that’s okay. I’ll get it later,” Alessa stammered.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Julie gave her an odd look. Something was up, she was sure of it. The question was, what exactly was it?

What was Alessa hiding from her?

“Okay,” she agreed amicably. If Alessa didn’t want to talk, Julie wasn’t going to pressure her. Not now, at any rate. Still, she wasn’t going to forget this little mystery fall to the way side.

Alessa breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mom.” She quickly bolted up the stairs before her mother could ask her any further questions.

Julie shook her head as she sat down on the sofa. The signs were plainly evident that something was up with her daughter. The teen was behaving strangely, even for her standards.

She sighed wearily. What mess had Alessa gotten herself into this time?


~


Miles away from Ashfield Hills, a silver 1995 Plymouth Neon pulled up outside of the entrance to the Daisy Villa apartment complex. After shutting down the engine, its driver secured the inside of the vehicle with a Club steering wheel lock. This neighborhood wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly good either, and there had been several reported car thefts over the past few months. Considering what she had to go through just to get this car, its owner wasn’t taking any chances.

Heather Morris stepped out of the car, giving it an appraising glance. The paint needed to be retouched, and the wind shield needed a good scrubbing. But those were surface things. More important was the stuff under the hood. If what she’s seen recently was any indication, she was sure the engine probably needed some work too.

She loved that car.

It was no prize, that’s for sure. But it was all she could afford at the moment. And it was hers. All hers.

She had gotten it some time after she finished high school. Her father had wanted to give her a car for her eighteenth birthday. But Heather knew her dad struggled to make ends meet and she didn’t want him to spend a large amount of money on her; money that could be used for more important things. So she’d gotten a part time job and earned enough money to buy herself a decent used car. The money her dad had set aside to use for her present was instead mostly put back for more important things, at Heather’s insistence. However, she did let him use part of it to treat her to a vacation in California she’d always wanted, which made for a great birthday gift.

The apartment building where Heather lived with her father was, in some respects, similar to the car itself. The exterior wasn’t impressive, and if the outside of the building could be considered merely adequate, the inside was just downright in need of repair. The walls need to be thoroughly repainted, and the floor could benefit from the landlord hiring someone to spend a day or two cleaning it. The laundry room was nothing to talk about either; sometimes, Heather wondered if they wouldn’t be better off washing their clothes by hand.

Heather was well aware of what people who didn’t live there thought of the place. The few times she had brought over friends from school was enough – after her freshman year of high school, she didn’t do it anymore. She supposed it would be different if she lived in a house. One of the things that bothered her the most was that some of the people at school were in worse shape than she was when it came to their families. Yet because they lived in their own homes, somehow, that translated to them having the right to be judgmental about her.

Heather’s father was at his usual spot, sitting on his chair in front of the TV, when Heather went in. The TV was off, and a notebook was in his lap; he was hard at work on his writing. He briefly glanced back from his chair when he heard the door unlock, though he already knew it was his daughter. Only three people had keys to their place: himself, his daughter, and the landlord. The latter always knocked first, and other than the occasional get together with a few of the other tenants, they didn’t get many visitors.

“Hey,” he acknowledged his daughter’s presence.

“Hi Dad,” Heather said cheerfully. She locked the door behind her.

“Hi sweetheart,” her father greeted back warmly as he stood from his chair.

Harry Morris was a tall middle aged man fifty-three years of age. His hair was dark brown with a few streaks of gray starting to creep in, and he was rather well built for his age, something which Heather sometimes teased him about. It was no secret among the female tenants of Daisy Villa that Harry was a very handsome man. He was also an available one. Unfortunately for them, the eligible bachelor had expressed absolutely no interest in dating someone.

Harry knew they wondered about him. The truth was that ever since his wife died, having a relationship just wasn’t a priority anymore.

Sixteen years ago, Harry’s wife Jodie had passed away from cancer when Heather was only three. It was a devastating loss for them both, and ever since that time, Harry had struggled to raise their daughter as a single parent. It had taken years, but eventually, he and Heather were able to move past the tragedy and start to get their lives back in order. Harry suspected starting school was a big help for Heather, as it meant the little girl finally had something else to occupy her thoughts; to keep her mind off the sadness of losing her mother.

Harry was a different matter. Jodie was the most important person in the world to him. They had been together since high school, getting married two years after graduating. Their relationship had thrived despite callous remarks from their relatives and close friends that the marriage wouldn’t work. They spent many happy years together, and though attempts to start a family proved at many times unsuccessful, finally they were blessed with a beautiful baby girl who completed their loving household.

Then the cancer struck. Harry could only watch as the woman he loved endured a torturous treatment regimen, helpless to do anything except support his wife in her struggle…and pray that a miracle would happen.

That miracle did not occur. Harry was left a widower; left alone to start over and pick up the shattered pieces of his life. It was only Heather’s presence in his life that kept him going. She needed someone to take care of her, and he couldn’t in good conscience do something that would leave her alone. He certainly wouldn’t entrust her well being to someone else. He was the only family she had, and he was going to raise her as any good father would, not just for her sake, but for Jodie’s. Heather would need someone to tell her about her mother when she got older.

Years had gone by since that time, and the pain of Jodie’s death had lessened. Mostly. It was still there deep inside Harry’s heart, and he was sure the same thing applied to Heather. But now, there was something else to fill the void left in Jodie’s absence – the close bond the two of them shared.

Heather was closer to her father than any of the girls she had known in school. They did almost everything together, going to sporting events and movies together, and spending a lot of time just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Harry was also an aspiring novelist, which left him a lot of time to spend together with his daughter.

He was completely devoted to her. Truthfully, Heather couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy that, even if her dad did get carried away sometimes. And even though money was tight around their household, they were happy together. That counted more than any amount of money ever could.

“You’re home early,” Harry pointed out, giving Heather a big hug.

Heather leaned into Harry’s embrace. She wasn’t a very affectionate person in public when strangers where present, but at home was a different story. Unlike some kids she’d known, she had no problems whatsoever hugging her father in the privacy of their home.

“Yeah, there wasn’t much on sale today,” Heather said. She paused, wondering whether to tell Harry about what happened today in the mall. Would her father even believe her? She barely believed it herself.

Unfortunately, Harry knew her too well. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No. No,” Heather shook her head. “It’s just…” She trailed off, unsure of where to begin.

“Did something happen at the mall?” Harry asked seriously. He could tell when something important was on Heather’s mind.

“No,” Heather hesitated again. However, a look from her dad told her he wasn’t buying it. She decided to just come clean.

“Okay, yes, something did happen. I mean, it wasn’t dangerous or anything. It was just...you’ll never believe who I met at the mall today.”

“A boy?” Harry quipped.

Heather scoffed. “Yeah right,” she smirked. It was a long-running joke between them that Heather wasn’t very interested in dating. She’d rather bang her head against a desk than go out with some of the guys she’d met; it would be way less painful.

And there had been guys who’d made the offer. Not many, but enough that Heather realized she really had no interest in being part of the dating game. Heather didn’t consider herself extremely attractive or anything, but she was aware that some guys found her pretty, and a small number of them were brave enough to make the effort to ask her out. She turned all of them down, but some of them were persistent, and there was even one who called her house in an attempt to get her to change her mind. And when Harry answered the phone, the guy quickly ended up trying to score some points with Heather’s father. If he made a good impression on Mr. Morris, or so the guy figured, maybe he would persuade Heather to give him a chance.

Alas, what he didn’t realize, and neither did the others, was that there was no changing Heather’s mind. She didn’t like guys and she didn’t want to date, and that was that. Why should she bother with going out on dates, when most guys her age were just after one thing? As for the ones who weren’t, none of them had ever approached her, and she never noticed anyone in particular who caught her fancy. In short, there was just no reason for her to start dating anytime soon.

Naturally, Harry was thrilled by his daughter’s lack of interest in pursuing a relationship. Like most normal fathers, he was very overprotective of his daughter. The thought of Heather getting involved with someone, and the issues that would arise, was just something he wasn’t prepared to deal with. He did worry on occasion about Heather’s lack of motivation to find someone, but for now, Harry Morris was content to know his little girl wasn’t out there fighting off overeager boyfriends who let their hormones do their thinking for them.

“Actually, you’re not going to believe this, but there was this girl there who looked just like me.”

“That’s it?” Harry asked, confused.

“No, Dad. You don’t get it. She looked exactly like me,” Heather emphasized. “Same face, same hair, same body.”

Now Harry did raise an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Remember what I looked like before I dyed my hair blonde?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, recalling Heather’s 11th grade experiment. Personally, he thought the short blonde hair made her look grungy, but of course, he never thought of saying that to her. She had gone back to her natural color since that time, but it still wasn’t as long as it had been.

“And before I got a face full of these?” Heather asked, pointing to the freckles on her cheeks.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s her, in a nutshell.”

“Wow. That’s…”

“Unbelievable? Yeah, you know it. It’s amazing really, ‘cause here I was minding my own business, when I suddenly this…I don’t know, vibe about this girl nearby.”

“So you just had to check her out?” Harry said. He knew how curious Heather got when something caught her eye.

“Exactly,” Heather smiled. “Man, I can’t believe it. She was the same as me. She even sounded the same too.”

“And there were no differences whatsoever between the two of you?” Harry asked. He was dubious about this, to say the least, but Heather was a smart kid. The least he could do was indulge her.

“Well, her hair was longer. And she didn’t have these freckles,” Heather added hesitantly. She didn’t want her dad to doubt her. “But I know what I saw.”

“Heather,” Harry said uncertainly, unsure of how to put it.

“Dad, no. Trust me, if you’d have been there, you’d have been amazed too.”

“Maybe it was a coincidence?” Harry suggested.

“No, I’m almost positive it’s not. Dad, she sounded just like me. And she had the same face I do. I know what my face looks like under these,” Heather stressed, touching the blemishes just above her cheeks.

She knew Harry was skeptical about the whole thing, but she wasn’t going to give up convincing him now that she had spilled the beans about it. Despite those minor differences, she knew there was more to it than either of them realized.

“Did you get her name?” Harry asked.

“Actually, I did. It’s Alessa.”

Heather didn’t notice the way her father went still upon hearing that.

“I got it off the back of her cell phone,” she said, oblivious to the shift in Harry’s features. “She dropped it while she was running away. Strange thing too, the way she just kept going. I think she was freaked out by the resemblance…”

Heather went on, unaware of Harry’s lapse in focus. Finally she noticed that her father didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Dad!”

“Huh?” He was still going over that name in his head. Alessa…

“Are you listening to me?” Heather asked, semi-annoyed.

“Uh…yeah,” Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, sweetheart. I was…distracted for a moment there. What did you say?”

Heather took a deep breath and exhaled. Patience, she told herself. Patience was the key. She didn’t want to lose her temper in front of her father.

“I said she must have been freaked out by the resemblance.”

“Wow. It must have been closer than I thought,” Harry remarked.

“That’s why I’ve been telling you!” Heather insisted, gesturing wildly with her hands. Harry merely smiled. Another parent might have been annoyed by the girl’s tone, but he didn’t feel the need to reprove her. He knew she wasn’t really angry at him, and besides, Heather looked way too cute when she ranted.

“Wait a minute. Did you say something about her cell phone?” he asked her.

“Yeah, she dropped it in the mall.”

“Can I see it?”

Heather handed him the small cellular phone left behind by the object of her wonder. Harry looked over it curiously, noting that the name Alessa was indeed written over the back cover in sparkling marker. The phone didn’t activate when he pressed the button.

“Yeah, it’s broken,” Heather confirmed. Harry looked over it some more before giving it back to her.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked. Heather looked up at him.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I going to do’”?

“Aren’t you going to find out who this belongs to?”

Heather stared at her dad like he was crazy. “Are you kidding me”?

“Heather, you said it yourself. This is no ordinary girl. Looks like you’ve got a mystery on your hands,” Harry replied.

“Dad, I’m not gonna go to the mall and stalk this girl,” Heather said.

“I’m not saying you should do that. All I’m saying is, don’t you want to at least look her up on the computer? Find out who she is or something, before just forgetting about the whole thing?”

Heather looked at her father strangely. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you almost want me to find her.”

“No, of course not,” Harry said. Heather raised an eyebrow at him. The older Morris sighed. “What I mean is that I know you, Heather. This is a mystery, and if you don’t settle it soon, it’s just going to eat away at you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But give it a few more days, and you’re going to be wracking your brains trying to figure out who this girl is. That’s just who you are, Heather.”

He gave her a pointed look. “Do you really want this stuck in your brain like that?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Heather…”

“All right. You really think I should look this girl up?”

“Yes, I think it would be best.”

Heather smirked at her dear old dad. “Okay. Then here,” she said, handing him the cell phone. “Get to it.” Before Harry could respond, she rushed into her room and locked the door with an audible click.

For a few moments Harry just stood there staring at her door. That little…! He laughed despite himself. He should have seen that one coming. Despite generally being open to advice, Heather was sometimes just too stubborn for her own good. He wasn’t worried about it, though. His daughter was usually good at solving problems on her own. It might take a while, but sooner or later she would settle on a way to deal with this. That wasn’t a concern.

What he was concerned about was the exact identity of this girl that Heather had met. There was something unusual about this situation, and it definitely warranted further investigation on his part. It was another reason why he hoped Heather decided to at least try to meet up with her again.

Because this was not the first time he had the name Alessa in his life, and certainly not the first time he had heard it used in context to a mysterious girl with raven black hair.

He had to find out more.