the_muses_stage prompt set 30 [decision]
Every time there was a phone call or a knock on his door, Noah Bennet hoped it would be his daughter. He knew the likelihood of her doing either were slim to none but he wanted to hold out some hope that some day she would reach across the distance to contact him. They hadn't talked in months and, before that, it had been years. He had never gone that long without talking to Claire and it killed him. It killed him that they were supposedly on opposite sides. But it also irritated him too, especially after all he had done for her and now she was with Sylar of all people. It didn't matter what the man had done, Claire was with him now and Bennet didn't want to think of what that actually meant. He couldn't even process the idea that the two of them were intimate because the last person you wanted to consider as a potential son-in-law was a serial killer.
He sighed softly as he pushed away from the table, picking up the plate of half eaten food to take it over and dump it in the garbage. When there was a knock on the door, he felt the old flash of help and then the resignation that came right after. It wouldn't be Claire but he couldn't help but be curious as he opened the door to find the Haitian instead.
"Hello, Rene," he greeted the other man as he stepped back, waving him in. "Come in."
The Haitian bowed his head in silent thanks for the invitation and moved into the apartment, closing the door behind him, quietly. He took a moment to look around, still mute, and then without preamble he told him, "I talked to your daughter two days ago."
The news shouldn't have surprised him. Nor should it have stung in any sort of way but it did just a bit, knowing that Claire would rather reach out to the Haitian than to him. He supposed he couldn't blame her but that didn't stop him from sighing a bit as he nodded, taking in the information. "I see," he replied casually, moving over into the kitchen. "What did she want?"
"She and Peter are in danger." He intentionally left Sylar's name out of the mix, though he knew there was no real point to it. Bennet had to know that her daughter was still with the killer. "What kind, I do not know except that people with gifts such as mine are after her, but she asked a favor of me. And of you, if you would be willing to help them."
Noah bit back a snarky comment about Peter and Claire being in trouble and the fact that they were always going to be in trouble while they were with Sylar. Instead he focused on the paternal urge to protect his daughter even if there was a tiny voice that whispered he should just let her deal with it. She had made her own bed after all ... but he couldn't ignore it either.
"What's the favor?" He turned to look back at Rene.
He frowned for a moment, still not sure it was possible considering he hadn't ever seen anyone who matched the description Claire had given him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, though, and so he said, "They are looking for someone with the power to restore lost gifts. Or give them. She thinks they would be safer if Peter had his abilities back."
For a moment he was silent as he contemplated what his daughter had told Rene. He couldn't deny that it would be a good idea but he was a bit suspicious too. He could only imagine what Sylar would do with such a gift. Still. "I think I remember there being someone," he murmured after a moment, walking towards his closet. "There was a young woman in New Orleans, though she'd be older by now. She could give abilities."
Following after him, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingers curling around the slip of paper he'd written Claire's number down on. "She gave me a number for you, if you wished to contact her yourself."
"Did she really say for me to contact her?" He looked over at the other man, arching a brow skeptically.
He doubted that Claire would hold onto her current number long after Bennet got in touch with her, but he kept that to himself, nodding instead. "She asked that you text her with the city where they could find someone, if you could help."
"Right." So Claire didn't want to actually talk to him, she just wanted the information and that was it. Pulling out a box from the closet, he flipped through some files till he pulled one out and checked the information. Once he had it in his head, he slid the file back into the box and then turned to look back at Rene. "Do you have the number?"
He pulled the paper out of his pocket, handing it to Bennet wordlessly.
Taking the paper from the other man, Bennet studied the number as he committed it to memory before moving to get his phone. Part of him wanted to call Claire, just to hear her voice, but he chose to text as she had instructed. He didn't put anything else, only the address and the city where he had last known the woman to be.
In silence, the Haitian watched as he texted his daughter, and then he was glancing towards the door. "I should go."
He nodded his head as he glanced over at the other man, giving a faint smile. "All right." A slight pause. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." He return the smile softly, turning towards the door, pausing to shoot a glance over his shoulder when he reached it. "Take care of yourself."
"Thank you, I will." He nodded, continuing to smile vaguely as he closed the phone and tucked the piece of paper away. He had no doubt that the phone would be disconnected almost as soon as he sent the text but one never knew.
[The use of the Haitian isn't aimed at any specific journal]
He sighed softly as he pushed away from the table, picking up the plate of half eaten food to take it over and dump it in the garbage. When there was a knock on the door, he felt the old flash of help and then the resignation that came right after. It wouldn't be Claire but he couldn't help but be curious as he opened the door to find the Haitian instead.
"Hello, Rene," he greeted the other man as he stepped back, waving him in. "Come in."
The Haitian bowed his head in silent thanks for the invitation and moved into the apartment, closing the door behind him, quietly. He took a moment to look around, still mute, and then without preamble he told him, "I talked to your daughter two days ago."
The news shouldn't have surprised him. Nor should it have stung in any sort of way but it did just a bit, knowing that Claire would rather reach out to the Haitian than to him. He supposed he couldn't blame her but that didn't stop him from sighing a bit as he nodded, taking in the information. "I see," he replied casually, moving over into the kitchen. "What did she want?"
"She and Peter are in danger." He intentionally left Sylar's name out of the mix, though he knew there was no real point to it. Bennet had to know that her daughter was still with the killer. "What kind, I do not know except that people with gifts such as mine are after her, but she asked a favor of me. And of you, if you would be willing to help them."
Noah bit back a snarky comment about Peter and Claire being in trouble and the fact that they were always going to be in trouble while they were with Sylar. Instead he focused on the paternal urge to protect his daughter even if there was a tiny voice that whispered he should just let her deal with it. She had made her own bed after all ... but he couldn't ignore it either.
"What's the favor?" He turned to look back at Rene.
He frowned for a moment, still not sure it was possible considering he hadn't ever seen anyone who matched the description Claire had given him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, though, and so he said, "They are looking for someone with the power to restore lost gifts. Or give them. She thinks they would be safer if Peter had his abilities back."
For a moment he was silent as he contemplated what his daughter had told Rene. He couldn't deny that it would be a good idea but he was a bit suspicious too. He could only imagine what Sylar would do with such a gift. Still. "I think I remember there being someone," he murmured after a moment, walking towards his closet. "There was a young woman in New Orleans, though she'd be older by now. She could give abilities."
Following after him, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingers curling around the slip of paper he'd written Claire's number down on. "She gave me a number for you, if you wished to contact her yourself."
"Did she really say for me to contact her?" He looked over at the other man, arching a brow skeptically.
He doubted that Claire would hold onto her current number long after Bennet got in touch with her, but he kept that to himself, nodding instead. "She asked that you text her with the city where they could find someone, if you could help."
"Right." So Claire didn't want to actually talk to him, she just wanted the information and that was it. Pulling out a box from the closet, he flipped through some files till he pulled one out and checked the information. Once he had it in his head, he slid the file back into the box and then turned to look back at Rene. "Do you have the number?"
He pulled the paper out of his pocket, handing it to Bennet wordlessly.
Taking the paper from the other man, Bennet studied the number as he committed it to memory before moving to get his phone. Part of him wanted to call Claire, just to hear her voice, but he chose to text as she had instructed. He didn't put anything else, only the address and the city where he had last known the woman to be.
In silence, the Haitian watched as he texted his daughter, and then he was glancing towards the door. "I should go."
He nodded his head as he glanced over at the other man, giving a faint smile. "All right." A slight pause. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." He return the smile softly, turning towards the door, pausing to shoot a glance over his shoulder when he reached it. "Take care of yourself."
"Thank you, I will." He nodded, continuing to smile vaguely as he closed the phone and tucked the piece of paper away. He had no doubt that the phone would be disconnected almost as soon as he sent the text but one never knew.
[The use of the Haitian isn't aimed at any specific journal]