Believe it or Not | Holly Hathaway

Original Episode:

Hi guys! This Fan Fiction was meant to be a fan-made continuation of this discontinued Episode & Series.

It will be published on Wattpad & my website!

Fan-Fiction Copyright Disclaimer: This story is a work of fanfiction inspired by The Greatest American Hero, related characters, & concepts. The Greatest American Hero and all original characters, settings, and related content are the property of their respective copyright holders and creators. I do not own The Greatest American Hero, The Greatest American Heroine, any characters, or the world they come from. This fanfiction is written purely for entertainment and creative expression, and is not intended for commercial use or profit. All original rights remain with their respective owners.

Let's begin This Fan-Fiction:

Believe it or Not:

The Greatest American Heroine

Chapter 1 | Part 1 \ Holly Hathaway

The year is 1983.

When Ralph pulled on the strange, skin-tight uniform, the world stopped obeying its old rules.

Gravity loosened its grip first. One moment his feet were planted on the pavement, the next he was lifting—awkwardly, instinctively—into the air, the city shrinking beneath him as if it had suddenly remembered he was allowed to leave it behind. Strength followed. Not the gym-earned kind, but something terrifying and absolute: doors tore free in his hands, steel bent like warm wax, and blows that should have shattered bone barely registered as taps against his skin.

Bullets refused him. Fire licked at him and failed. Heat rolled over his body and broke, as if embarrassed to have tried. When flames grew too bold, he learned—almost by accident—that his breath itself could become a weapon. One long exhale and a roaring fire collapsed into smoke and sparks; a hurled Molotov died in midair, its violence snuffed out by nothing more than his lungs.

His senses changed next. Walls thinned. Secrets glowed. With a blink, he could see through concrete and flesh alike, bones shining pale beneath skin, hidden weapons announcing themselves like guilty thoughts. Time began to whisper to him—brief flashes of what was about to happen, half-formed warnings tugging at his attention a heartbeat too early to ignore. Objects told him their stories when he touched them, memories unfolding like holograms only he could see.

Sometimes he vanished entirely, air closing where he had been, leaving only confusion behind. Sometimes he shrank, the world swelling to impossible size around him. Sometimes his mind reached outward, lifting objects without hands, nudging reality with a thought. And on rare, unsettling occasions, he felt something colder slip into place: the sense that he could feel what did not belong to the natural world at all—presences that hid just beyond human perception, now suddenly exposed to him.

After the radiation—the plutonium that soaked into him like a curse—things grew stranger. Thoughts were no longer private in the way they once had been. He could tug at a will, bend it slightly, guide it without words. Once, almost jokingly, he projected a shimmering image and watched a dog obey it as if it were real, tail wagging at a lie made of light. Another time, metal leapt toward him, dragged close by an unseen force, his body briefly transformed into a living magnet.

Ralph never learned all the rules. He only knew the suit was alive in its own way, or perhaps it was changing him, rewriting him piece by piece. He wasn't just a man in a costume anymore. He was a walking question mark—part miracle, part mistake—flying forward without a manual, hoping the next power wouldn't cost him something he couldn't get back.

Then there's Holly Hathaway, a whimsical ray of shine upon all that saw her.

Her daughter, Sara Hathaway, hopes to follow in her footsteps and wear the suit one day. That day might never come, honestly. There are many other students being primed to take the role, some humans used to space, a few not even human.

In April of 1981, when computers still felt more like furniture than companions, Adam Osborne dared to imagine something different. The Osborne I arrived like a stubborn promise of the future—lugged by hand, heavy at twenty-four and a half pounds, yet revolutionary all the same. Its tiny five-inch screen glowed like a porthole into a new world, and for the first time, a computer could truly travel with its owner. Not elegantly, not lightly—but unmistakably with them.

That same year, Epson pushed the idea further. The HX-20 appeared, compact and curious, quietly making history by carrying a printer inside its own body. Words could now be typed and immediately born onto paper, no desk-bound machine required. It felt like the world shrinking, folding itself into something you could carry under your arm.

But the future didn't just want portability—it wanted beauty.

Two years earlier, in 1979, British designer Bill Moggridge had sketched a vision that looked nothing like the boxy machines of the era. When it finally took physical form in 1982, it was called the GRiD Compass. The screen folded down over the keyboard in a clamshell design so familiar today, yet utterly alien then. Its black magnesium case was sharp, severe, and impossibly sleek, like something borrowed from science fiction. The price matched the ambition: ten thousand dollars, a number that made it clear this machine was not meant for everyone.

NASA noticed.

The GRiD Compass found its way beyond Earth itself, selected for use aboard space shuttle missions. Up there, where gravity loosened and mistakes were unforgiving, the laptop helped guide navigation, track fuel, and manage vital shuttle data. While most of the world still thought of computers as stationary giants, one folded quietly shut in orbit, proving that the future of computing wasn't just portable.

It was already flying. 

Holly had assembled a makeshift computer that looked and functioned a lot like a laptop. She'd become captivated by the idea after glimpsing flashes of the future, and even though the technology was crude—limited by the clunky constraints of the 1980s—it worked well enough for her purposes.

She hadn't done it by accident or guesswork. God had shown her how.

It was NOT used for what they usually are — This was a HIGH-TECH machine used to keep her suit controlled without MALFUNCTION.

She drank a cup of coffee while making sure the suit's energy was perfect.

Suddenly, Sara runs upstairs to see her mom to ask "Mommy, can I go play with my friends?"

Her mother, Holly, says "Yeah, sure. Just be back soon."

So, Sara ran outside to see her BFF.

Sara's BFF, Waaseyaa-Acoma, as identified by her nicknames, Chilly-Bean, Chilli, Beanie, Bean, or Chilli-Flower & Chill-Chill was waiting for Sara outside.

Waaseyaa-Acoma was the cutest Tribal Native-American (Also known as American Indian, but not the type of Indian that is from India known as the South Asian Indian) Snake-Human Girl.

Chill-Chill A.K.A. Waaseyaa-Acoma ran to Sara with a cute little Anime Sash on, saying "Wanna go to the cosplay Convention?!"

Sara nodded: "What's cosplay?" Waaseyaa-Acoma, Also known as "Chill-Chill," screams "You don't know?! It's an awesome party where you get to dress up as your favorite cartoons and do plays and pretend to be awesome characters. That's about all I know about it!"

Sara is about to POP with excitement and yells "Coooool!!!" Sara ran to ask Holly "Can I go to a cosplay?" Holly wasn't too familiar with cosplay and asked what it was, you've never heard a child so cheerily explain the topic in the most basic of terms.

Holly agreed to go with her. Chill-Chill and Sara mostly giggled and played while thinking about all the fun they'd have at "the coolest cosplay party EVER!!"

5 days later, it was the cosplay!

At the Contest of Champions in Eitherum, a thug named Damien strode into the arena alongside a vibrant sea of adorable weeboo cosplayers and eccentric furries. Among the crowd, one furry sported an irresistibly fluffy dog suit, while another—$am—bounced along in a playful cat‑neko outfit that seemed almost alive with energy.

Damien finds her first and doesn't hesitate—his mouth crashes into hers in a hungry, unapologetic kiss. Sam breaks into laughter, breathless and bright, as he pulls her closer against him.

He releases her just as suddenly, brushing a soft kiss to her cheek before turning away.

She calls after him, teasing: "You're not gonna steal anything, are ya?"

Damien smirks over his shoulder:

"Nah. Not yet."

Inside the cosplay contest, Damien blends effortlessly into the chaos, dressed as a fictional thug from a wildly popular book series packed with violent legends and underground fame. Just in case temptation strikes, he subtly shifts his appearance—insurance against being recognized if he slips up in his primary disguise.

Once inside, his eyes sweep the room. He's looking for Holly, radiant in a Cinderella costume, with Sara beside her as Cinderella's "future daughter," the look both playful and oddly convincing.

He weaves through the crowd—and then he spots him.

Ken Amy Kentucky.

A loud, self-important internet game critic, soaked in ego and irony, strutting around in Prince Charming cosplay like the title actually belonged to him.

Damien approaches calmly and opens his palm. From the center of his hand, a flower unfurls—petals blooming slowly, beautifully, almost hypnotically 🌺.

Ken squints at it.

"What's that?" he asks, already rude, already bored.

"A gift," Damien replies smoothly: "Obviously. Haven't you ever seen a plant like this? All you have to do is blow it. It can bring you more wealth than you'd ever know what to do with."

Ken snorts, then shrugs, plucking the flower without hesitation:

"Uh... okay. Cool."

He slips it into his pocket like it's nothing.

Ken notices Damien's gaze drift toward Holly and sneers:

"Ugh. You into those goodie-two-shoes types? Can't stand perfect people."

They'd never done anything to him. That was the problem. Good people had a habit of getting in the way of the awful things Ken enjoyed doing.

Damien leans in slightly:

"I need you to lie for me."

Ken's face lights up. Lying was his favorite pastime.

"Sure," he says eagerly: "What's it worth to you?"

He already assumes it's another easy gig—pretend to like a game on camera, hype it up, sell the lie to his audience.

He has no idea what he's just agreed to.

Ken starts toward Holly Hathaway—and immediately regrets it.

Halfway there, his confidence evaporates. His steps slow, his shoulders stiffen, and panic sets in: What do I do? What do I do? What the hell do I do?

He pivots sharply and walks the other way, pretending he meant to leave all along.

Think, he tells himself: Just lie. Any lie.

The guy was obviously unhinged—if Ken tossed out something random enough, it wouldn't matter. He could say anything. Anything at all.

He spins back around, already stitching together a story as he closes the distance:

"Hey, I'm—"

He stops short.

A flicker of unease crawls up his spine. What if that man was watching? What if this was some kind of test? The thought rattles him more than he likes to admit.

Ken forces a shrug, pastes on a grin, and pivots again—new lie, new angle.

"I'm, uh... kind of a big deal," he says, straightening: "Actually, I'm rich. Very rich. And I wanted to invite you to my banquet bash this Saturday."

He blinks:

"—Wait. It is Saturday."

Another blink. Faster this time:

"I mean—Tuesday. Definitely Tuesday."

The words tumble out clumsy and hollow, and even Ken can tell: this lie is already falling apart.

Sara yells "Chill-Chill-Chilly-Bean, we got invited to a big bash on Tuesday!"

Waaseyaa-Acoma ran over immediately to beckon the noise of pleasure and fun!

Waaseyaa-Acoma asked Sara "Are we gonna be able to invite all of our friends?"

Sara says to Waaseyaa-Acoma "I guess," Sara asks Ken "Can Sealie come?" Ken says "Sure. Everyone can! It just can't happen at my house."

Sara yells "CHUCKY CHEESE!" With Holly and Waaseyaa-Acoma.

Half of Waaseyaa-Acoma's body is a snake's tail, the lower part, to be exact. Just below her tummy. Ken thought it was just cosplay.

The next today...

Ken didn't actually have a party. He wasn't rich—at least, not yet.

Then, his eyes landed on the flower 🌺. A flicker of inspiration—and playfulness—hit him. He snatched it up and elegantly blew it just to play around with what the guy said before.

Moments later, his phone rang. A Robot from The bank. His account had just been credited: $3,456,789,123.

He was rich. Rich! 🤑

He jumped back, screaming and laughing. And then... something unexpected happened. Something he hadn't done in twelve years.

He praised God.

Tears streamed down his face—not the usual stress or anger, but pure, unfiltered joy. His life had been a struggle: bad jobs, constant worry. And now, suddenly, the weight had lifted.

He called the thirteen mothers of his thirteen children. Every last cent of two years' back child support was transferred immediately. He told them he loved them, promised he'd provide for every one of his kids, and meant it.

Next, he went all out. Fancy clothes. Chucky Cheese, rented entirely for the party. He carefully crafted invitations from notepads, reused government envelopes—free postage, zero cost wasted. Only the important people: the cosplay kids, Damien (a thank-you gesture), his parents and siblings, and of course, his thirteen children and their mothers.

He wasn't pretending anymore. He was loaded. Loaded.

The party was a spectacle. Holly and her family arrived, along with friends, The First American Hero, Ralph, and even his partner, Bill. Chucky Cheese had never seen chaos like this. The kids screamed, ran, played—they were in heaven. Ken made sure every child got exactly what they wanted without overspending.

But the sheer energy, the sights, the noise—it was too much. His head throbbed, his chest felt tight. Overstimulated, Ken slipped out, craving silence, craving emptiness.

Alone in his car, he exhaled slowly. "Thank God... they're all gone," he muttered. Relief and exhaustion battled inside him.

Meanwhile, inside the joint, all his thirteen children were running around.

Holly Hathaway was playing with her & Ken's children when Damien walked over offering "gifts & promises."

FLASHBACK.

4 years ago.

The white walls of the office are cold and sterile — Just like Sade likes it.

Damien sat in a chair, large and foreboding, arms slumped back around the chair. Head bowed, he's saying "how am I gonna eat food? Got no job." He's got nothing in his hands.

Damien's adoptive father, Sade, said, hand rubbing the back of his hair & front around his head, tired & exhausted but also fuming mad at Damien, dejected and bound to be rude: "You can't behave yourself, so you don't get to work in the family business," Behind a desk ever so clinical.

It's a restaurant business.

Sade: "I'm more angry that you fought with a customer."

Sade was an old European Northern Italian.

Damien: "A rude customer."

Sade: "Doesn't matter in business, Damien. Plus, this isn't gonna be some catharsis because you were the one in the wrong. You served a pregnant woman a bloody chicken, pink, clearly raw. You were a waiter, yes, but you could have asked the chef to cook it before serving and explain it to the patron or chosen a well-done one."

Damien: "Okay?"

Sade sighs a "Hhhh..."

Sade's wife was a Chinese woman named Yinuo (一诺).

Sade: "You were the one in the wrong, Damien. You were totally in the wrong."

Damien: "So... I'm getting fired?"

Sade leans in over the table, hand stretched out, saying: "I get that you're some fallen angel or something ancient... But by the time I found out, you had already made yourself a part of the family. You hid among us, I raised you, taught you morals, got you under control..."

Damien looks around and says, "Whatever..."

Sade sighs, dejected and tired of his antics: "But I loved you like a son because I raised you from what I thought was a baby for 23 years."

Then Sade sighs another "Hhhhh... Yeah, couldn't let any angels harm ya', so I kept you out of trouble and away from that Satanic cult of yours."

PRESENT DAY.

1983.

Damien talked to Holly Hathaway for 3 minutes by now. He's gettin' invested, actually.

His head turns slowly for a bit as his head thinks on his chin for a few seconds when he says "Why don't you guys come to my place? Tomorrow at 9:01 PM."

Holly Hathaway cheerously replied, "I'm a vet. I need to be at work at 9:01 PM. General Practice vets Usually work 5 days a week, often with shorter Saturday shifts. In other words, 8:00 AM. to 12:00 PM. or 2:00 PM."

Damien was in shock that the party even took place, he had convinced the guy to lie to Holly so that he could plant poison in his enemy, Luthas' food without her noticing. Damien never expected the party to be real, so he came. Luthas is alive, but in the emergency room.

Holly felt something off with Damien. Sensing the supernatural due to her suit nearby on her person at all times, she's very... Scared. She feels so abnormally scared for some reason.

Damien was attracted to Holly Hathaway with how her white gown was done in white, black, and copper, with pouring copper layered robes in her gathered waist, as well as a pair of pale white lace-up sandals. Her accessories include a black ring with an Amethyst centerpiece on her right hand's pointer finger and an intricate copper circlet about her head for the party. Her hair is in curly ringlets; "Beautiful," He thought, though he feared scaring her off by being too bold.

Damien: "5:01 PM."

Holly Hathaway nodded: "Sure, where to?" then said, "But not at your house. At a public venue or carnival. My child will not be with us," For safety's sake. Suddenly, Damien remembered what he had forgotten: He's in a romantic relationship with Sam. Holly is not aware of this, but honestly had no romantic interest in him... So...

Awkwardly, Damien nodded and returned to his mission: Steal the suit from Holly Hathaway and bring it to Satan to rebound his allegiance to Lucifer.

The reason Holly doesn't want her child to come with her is because she doesn't trust Damien. Holly, however, does want to make new friends so she is willing to talk to someone and make connections that she can use.

Holly desires to stay single and raise her daughter for now because she simply feels like it. There are no external thoughts on gaining a man in that way.

Holly told Damien: "So, yeah. We can go to a carnival. Sara has to stay with Ralph. I trust Ralph with her. School hours occurs during my work hours, I think."

Holly decided to use this moment to promote her vet clinic and told him about "If you have a pet, You can take her or him to my vet center. I'll gladly treat her."

Damien was intrigued by the clinic, wondering if she owned it or not, but it didn't matter for now.

Damien asks "Who's Ralph?" So, Holly Hathaway, ever the friendly woman, replies "Oh, uh, he's a new friend of mine."

Damien asks "Do you know Ken?" & Holly replies "He used to take his pets to my clinic. I loved his dog. His dog died, though. Old age. He stopped coming. Dog's name was Starilous Maximus The Great. Had a weird biology, though. I think he was an alien."

Starilous Maximus The Great was an alien Dog  who appeared in the form of a German Shepard who used to rescue the Jews from the Neo-Nazis in Palmdale. He works primarily there, but not for the Aliens. Ken lived near Jews and in Palmdale. At this time, Ken was middle class as this was before he became broke.

Starilous Maximus was sent to Earth because he was meant to aid the Jews as God told the alien king, of which he was a knight for, to do so. Starilous Maximus could make portals to other dimensions and areas, see all kinds of spirits at will, fly, walk through walls, and use telekinesis.

Starilous Maximus prided himself in solving problems via ending them in the quickest yet moral way possible.

However, later on, Starilous Maximus The Great married the princess of his planet, Steran Diadeedra, and went back to his home planet of Staren. He worked with the Palmdale FBI when on Earth. The FBI thought he was dead when he left, because Ken, his owner, hid his departure from them so they wouldn't stop him from going home to be with his wife, and told everyone he was dead. Ken knew what Starilous Maximus The Great was doing, and would help him.

Starilous Maximus still has a DEEP hatred for Neo-Nazis due to his experiences. His species has mostly Doggo qualities, but his culture & tradition was that if he TRULY hates you, he will HISS like either a feline, vampire, or a snake at you JUST to show you HOW MUCH THEY HATE YOU WITH SEETHING WRATH. Starilous Maximus does this whenever he sees a Neo-Nazi... Or a KKK member.... Because they gave him hell, too.

Starilous Maximus The Great is currently a king, living in his anthropomorphic human-ish form with his wife & 9 pups. By this time, The KKK and Neo-Nazis had all been arrested; This led him to feel it was okay to move back to Planet.

Back to Holly Hathaway...

Damien knew Starilous Maximus. He seethed "That dog used to bite me..."

Holly says, "That happens. Starilous Maximus was an FBI dog." Knowing his job, but not willing to spill his identity. She thinks he's dead.

Holly instantly knew Starilous Maximus did something as Starilous Maximus never bites unless he has to, it's not even in his instinct. His culture does that in self-defense.

To be continued...