fic: Come In From The Cold (Heroes), part 2/5
Title: Come In From The Cold, Part 2/5
Author: acinogan
Characters: Elle, Sylar, baby Noah, Noah Bennet, probably more to follow
Word Count: 1720 this bit
Rating: PG-13 this part, R later
Summary: AU from "The Eclipse, Part 2" - Elle is raising baby Noah on her own and Sylar drops by for a visit.
Spoilers/Warnings: general thru volume 3 "The Eclipse, Part 2"
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes characters etc.
A/N: kidfic, y'all. i am (still) not sure how i feel about this, but there you go. it keeps getting darker the more i write. don't worry, i won't hurt the baby.
"He says he has this new power that can tell him if Noah's going to manifest."
"Do you think that's wise, him knowing that?"
"Only if Noah doesn't have a power. If he does have a power, I feel like it's just a matter of time before Sylar decides he deserves it more. It would be like putting an expiration date on my son."
"Either way could be dangerous for Noah. If he doesn't have a power, Sylar could view him as completely disposable."
Even though Bennet had shot her and manipulated her, he had still been kinder to her than her own father ever had, especially after he'd seen her distance herself from Sylar, physically and emotionally. He was the closest thing to a grandparent Noah would ever have.
"How is Suresh doing with that project you were telling me about? The sooner, the better." Mohinder was developing an aerosol spray version of some special neurotransmitter he'd isolated from a sample of the Haitian's blood. It was supposed to neutralize powers temporarily, and she was pretty sure Sylar couldn't manage to telekinetically redirect thousands of tiny droplets before he breathed in enough of it to take effect, in the likely event she needed to use it on him.
"Nearly done."
"Well, he's not getting near Noah again until I have that Haitian spray in my hands."
"That seems best. I'll messenger it over as soon as Suresh clears it, a couple more days, maybe. Did you get the book I sent?"
"Yeah, The Runaway Bunny, thanks. He likes it. There's that one page where the mom turns into a tree and the baby bunny is a bird, and he just stares at it."
"Lyle liked that book, too. Claire was always more of a Goodnight Moon fan, though." Bennet's family had never met Noah. She wasn't even sure if they knew he existed.
She heard some babbling from Noah's room.
"All right, he's up from his nap. I'll call you if anything changes, or happens."
"Watch your back." Bennet ended all their phone calls that way. She replied with her usual "I will" and hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and walked down the hall, peeking slowly around the door frame to see what he was up to.
He had always been a pretty mellow baby, and she thanked her lucky stars for that. She'd had all these anxious thoughts while she was pregnant, imagining various scenarios that featured her going slowly insane while the baby cried for hours on end and nothing she did would comfort him, would quiet him, fearfully anticipating what she might do if she found herself pushed past her limits. Would she snap and turn on her own child? Would she hold him at arm's length his whole life like her own father had done?
She'd wondered if it wouldn't have been better for everyone to give him up for adoption, but because Sylar already knew of the existence of their child, and because it had been too late when she realized she was pregnant to consider the alternative, she came to the conclusion that she was probably the kid's best chance to make it past infancy. The only other person she knew of who was even remotely equipped to potentially protect a child from Sylar was Bennet. Frankly, he could have done a lot better keeping Sylar away from Claire, but, to be fair, the cheerleader's rebellious streak didn't make it any easier.
She would do better for her son. She had to.
He finally noticed her standing in the doorway and kicked his legs enthusiastically a few times, rolled over onto his tummy, and lifted his torso up with his chubby arms. She returned his proud drooly smile. Poor baby had been teething, and she knew it must be uncomfortable, but he hadn't complained much.
"Hi, baby," she cooed. He kicked some more, and it made him rock back and forth a little. She walked over to pick him up out of his crib. She felt calmer the second his soft body was in her arms, cradled to her chest; she always did. He was easy to love, so happy all the time, even when she messed up with him, which happened more often than she liked to acknowledge. But she must be doing okay if he was that happy, right?
She nuzzled her lips against the fuzzy top of his head. "Are you hungry? Do you want a bottle? Let's go in the kitchen and get you a bottle." She could give him some more cereal now, too. It must be boring to have only formula all the time. Now that Noah was six months old, she was glad he finally got to eat other food. Even though rice cereal and pureed carrots and peas probably weren't that much more interesting than formula, at least they were different.
"One day soon, you'll get to eat birthday cake and ice cream and tacos and pizza and Slush-O and anything you want," she told him as she walked back down the hall to the kitchen. "Ready for a bottle?" she asked him, noticing yet again how often she tended to repeat herself when she talked to her baby. She settled him securely in his highchair and fastened the straps before putting the tray on over his lap.
The phone call to Bennet must have put her in a reflective frame of mind, because she found her mind wandering as she began to prepare a bottle of formula and a small bowl of cereal, the actions routine enough by now that they didn't demand her full attention.
She remembered the exact words Sylar had said to her when she'd finally told him she was pregnant. It had taken her a couple of months of missed periods and other weird physical symptoms to figure it out for herself, and then she'd waited until he'd noticed the weight redistributing itself on her body before she had told him why.
He'd started out surprised, then got scarily, quietly angry with her when she told him how far along she thought she was.
"So you're telling me that in about five months there will be a baby whether I like it or not?"
"Yep."
"And you're okay with that? After taking into consideration how completely fucked up and selfish the two of us are, and how helpless and dependent a baby is going to be?"
"It's kinda out of my hands now."
"How long have you known about this?" Her silence confirmed his suspicions. "You did this on purpose. You waited to tell me until it would be too late to do anything else. What were you thinking?"
She waited for him to yell at her, to use his telekinesis to fling her against the wall, to trash their motel room around her and storm off in a rage only to return in a couple of hours with a new power and a need to bury himself inside her, like he had many times before when she'd behaved how she always did. He had just walked out of the motel room without even closing the door behind him, much less slamming it. She'd rushed to the doorway after she realized he was just leaving, and watched him drive away in their stolen car.
She recalled wondering what he was so shocked about, anyway. Her trying to push his buttons was nothing new, and as for the pregnancy, what had he thought would happen, as much unprotected sex as they'd had? It wasn't like she did this to herself. He was a part of this, too...
After a couple of days bored out of her mind alone in that motel room, she'd realized he wasn't coming back, and she packed her bag and zapped the hell out of the motel desk clerk to get her hands on some cash. She had always let Sylar deal with the boring stuff like money before then. Plans change.
She did the best she could on her own, criss-crossing the western half of the United States for a couple of months, even managing to attend a free women's clinic to get a check-up and prenatal vitamins. She was proud of herself for accomplishing that until the nurse showered her with pamphlets telling her all the things she should be doing while she was pregnant, all the things she should already have in place in her calm, stable home, ready for when the baby was born. All the choices she would have to make, and she had only thought about maybe five percent of this stuff.
The doctor told her things looked good so far with the pregnancy, the baby seemed to be growing well and had a strong heartbeat. When the rapid fetal heart rate over the doppler speaker sounded like a ticking clock, she panicked and scooted down off of the exam table as fast as her six-months-pregnant body would allow. She made an excuse to the doctor about needing to use the bathroom, and when he left her alone in the exam room to get dressed, she put her clothes on and gathered up her pamphlets and stuffed them into the bag that now held all her personal belongings in the world. She made a break for the front door of the clinic when the receptionist was on the phone, then drove a few frantic miles through downtown Phoenix before pulling into a convenience store parking lot to make a phone call she never thought she'd need, a plea for help to Noah Bennet.
The content gurgling from over her shoulder brought her back to the present, to this little person who she had let take over her life, somewhat grudgingly at first, but more willingly by the day during the last trimester of her pregnancy, and now she couldn't imagine her life without him in it. He was banging his hands on the highchair tray, and she giggled quietly at him, how his plump arms made his tiny hands look like they were screwed on, mannequin-style. God, she loved him. Nobody was going to hurt him, definitely not his own father. Whatever she had to do to protect him, she would.
Author: acinogan
Characters: Elle, Sylar, baby Noah, Noah Bennet, probably more to follow
Word Count: 1720 this bit
Rating: PG-13 this part, R later
Summary: AU from "The Eclipse, Part 2" - Elle is raising baby Noah on her own and Sylar drops by for a visit.
Spoilers/Warnings: general thru volume 3 "The Eclipse, Part 2"
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes characters etc.
A/N: kidfic, y'all. i am (still) not sure how i feel about this, but there you go. it keeps getting darker the more i write. don't worry, i won't hurt the baby.
"He says he has this new power that can tell him if Noah's going to manifest."
"Do you think that's wise, him knowing that?"
"Only if Noah doesn't have a power. If he does have a power, I feel like it's just a matter of time before Sylar decides he deserves it more. It would be like putting an expiration date on my son."
"Either way could be dangerous for Noah. If he doesn't have a power, Sylar could view him as completely disposable."
Even though Bennet had shot her and manipulated her, he had still been kinder to her than her own father ever had, especially after he'd seen her distance herself from Sylar, physically and emotionally. He was the closest thing to a grandparent Noah would ever have.
"How is Suresh doing with that project you were telling me about? The sooner, the better." Mohinder was developing an aerosol spray version of some special neurotransmitter he'd isolated from a sample of the Haitian's blood. It was supposed to neutralize powers temporarily, and she was pretty sure Sylar couldn't manage to telekinetically redirect thousands of tiny droplets before he breathed in enough of it to take effect, in the likely event she needed to use it on him.
"Nearly done."
"Well, he's not getting near Noah again until I have that Haitian spray in my hands."
"That seems best. I'll messenger it over as soon as Suresh clears it, a couple more days, maybe. Did you get the book I sent?"
"Yeah, The Runaway Bunny, thanks. He likes it. There's that one page where the mom turns into a tree and the baby bunny is a bird, and he just stares at it."
"Lyle liked that book, too. Claire was always more of a Goodnight Moon fan, though." Bennet's family had never met Noah. She wasn't even sure if they knew he existed.
She heard some babbling from Noah's room.
"All right, he's up from his nap. I'll call you if anything changes, or happens."
"Watch your back." Bennet ended all their phone calls that way. She replied with her usual "I will" and hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and walked down the hall, peeking slowly around the door frame to see what he was up to.
He had always been a pretty mellow baby, and she thanked her lucky stars for that. She'd had all these anxious thoughts while she was pregnant, imagining various scenarios that featured her going slowly insane while the baby cried for hours on end and nothing she did would comfort him, would quiet him, fearfully anticipating what she might do if she found herself pushed past her limits. Would she snap and turn on her own child? Would she hold him at arm's length his whole life like her own father had done?
She'd wondered if it wouldn't have been better for everyone to give him up for adoption, but because Sylar already knew of the existence of their child, and because it had been too late when she realized she was pregnant to consider the alternative, she came to the conclusion that she was probably the kid's best chance to make it past infancy. The only other person she knew of who was even remotely equipped to potentially protect a child from Sylar was Bennet. Frankly, he could have done a lot better keeping Sylar away from Claire, but, to be fair, the cheerleader's rebellious streak didn't make it any easier.
She would do better for her son. She had to.
He finally noticed her standing in the doorway and kicked his legs enthusiastically a few times, rolled over onto his tummy, and lifted his torso up with his chubby arms. She returned his proud drooly smile. Poor baby had been teething, and she knew it must be uncomfortable, but he hadn't complained much.
"Hi, baby," she cooed. He kicked some more, and it made him rock back and forth a little. She walked over to pick him up out of his crib. She felt calmer the second his soft body was in her arms, cradled to her chest; she always did. He was easy to love, so happy all the time, even when she messed up with him, which happened more often than she liked to acknowledge. But she must be doing okay if he was that happy, right?
She nuzzled her lips against the fuzzy top of his head. "Are you hungry? Do you want a bottle? Let's go in the kitchen and get you a bottle." She could give him some more cereal now, too. It must be boring to have only formula all the time. Now that Noah was six months old, she was glad he finally got to eat other food. Even though rice cereal and pureed carrots and peas probably weren't that much more interesting than formula, at least they were different.
"One day soon, you'll get to eat birthday cake and ice cream and tacos and pizza and Slush-O and anything you want," she told him as she walked back down the hall to the kitchen. "Ready for a bottle?" she asked him, noticing yet again how often she tended to repeat herself when she talked to her baby. She settled him securely in his highchair and fastened the straps before putting the tray on over his lap.
The phone call to Bennet must have put her in a reflective frame of mind, because she found her mind wandering as she began to prepare a bottle of formula and a small bowl of cereal, the actions routine enough by now that they didn't demand her full attention.
She remembered the exact words Sylar had said to her when she'd finally told him she was pregnant. It had taken her a couple of months of missed periods and other weird physical symptoms to figure it out for herself, and then she'd waited until he'd noticed the weight redistributing itself on her body before she had told him why.
He'd started out surprised, then got scarily, quietly angry with her when she told him how far along she thought she was.
"So you're telling me that in about five months there will be a baby whether I like it or not?"
"Yep."
"And you're okay with that? After taking into consideration how completely fucked up and selfish the two of us are, and how helpless and dependent a baby is going to be?"
"It's kinda out of my hands now."
"How long have you known about this?" Her silence confirmed his suspicions. "You did this on purpose. You waited to tell me until it would be too late to do anything else. What were you thinking?"
She waited for him to yell at her, to use his telekinesis to fling her against the wall, to trash their motel room around her and storm off in a rage only to return in a couple of hours with a new power and a need to bury himself inside her, like he had many times before when she'd behaved how she always did. He had just walked out of the motel room without even closing the door behind him, much less slamming it. She'd rushed to the doorway after she realized he was just leaving, and watched him drive away in their stolen car.
She recalled wondering what he was so shocked about, anyway. Her trying to push his buttons was nothing new, and as for the pregnancy, what had he thought would happen, as much unprotected sex as they'd had? It wasn't like she did this to herself. He was a part of this, too...
After a couple of days bored out of her mind alone in that motel room, she'd realized he wasn't coming back, and she packed her bag and zapped the hell out of the motel desk clerk to get her hands on some cash. She had always let Sylar deal with the boring stuff like money before then. Plans change.
She did the best she could on her own, criss-crossing the western half of the United States for a couple of months, even managing to attend a free women's clinic to get a check-up and prenatal vitamins. She was proud of herself for accomplishing that until the nurse showered her with pamphlets telling her all the things she should be doing while she was pregnant, all the things she should already have in place in her calm, stable home, ready for when the baby was born. All the choices she would have to make, and she had only thought about maybe five percent of this stuff.
The doctor told her things looked good so far with the pregnancy, the baby seemed to be growing well and had a strong heartbeat. When the rapid fetal heart rate over the doppler speaker sounded like a ticking clock, she panicked and scooted down off of the exam table as fast as her six-months-pregnant body would allow. She made an excuse to the doctor about needing to use the bathroom, and when he left her alone in the exam room to get dressed, she put her clothes on and gathered up her pamphlets and stuffed them into the bag that now held all her personal belongings in the world. She made a break for the front door of the clinic when the receptionist was on the phone, then drove a few frantic miles through downtown Phoenix before pulling into a convenience store parking lot to make a phone call she never thought she'd need, a plea for help to Noah Bennet.
The content gurgling from over her shoulder brought her back to the present, to this little person who she had let take over her life, somewhat grudgingly at first, but more willingly by the day during the last trimester of her pregnancy, and now she couldn't imagine her life without him in it. He was banging his hands on the highchair tray, and she giggled quietly at him, how his plump arms made his tiny hands look like they were screwed on, mannequin-style. God, she loved him. Nobody was going to hurt him, definitely not his own father. Whatever she had to do to protect him, she would.