Fic: Innocence
Title: Innocence
Author: Maxinegray
Characters: Toddler!Mohinder, Sylar
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cuteness, possible crack
Spoilers: None
Summary/Prompt: Sylar goes back in time to see Mohinder as a toddler.
Word Count: 1,222
A/N: Written for mabetini as a present. And for the sake of this story Toddler!Mohinder speaks English.
There is a certain purity that comes with childhood and is then lost. Before monsters and scary things in the dark, there lies a pinnacle of simplistic pure innocence. And to take it all away requires nothing less then the fear and terror of the presence of a killer but Sylar likes to go beyond the norm.
He is precise in the execution of his plan, arriving exactly where and when he intended despite never having been here before. The Indian home is exactly as pictured, heavy with its culture but beautiful and elegant. He has arrived in the center of the home’s outdoor garden courtyard, with the flowers in full bloom
There is the pitter-patter of sandaled feet as they begin to set slowly towards Sylar down a pathway out of sight. Then a considerably young child, head full of dark wild curls and beautiful chocolate skin, rounds the sharp corner, one small hand bracing up against the wall for support. His head is down, watching his feet in front of him as he gradually progresses towards the courtyard, not at all noticing the large man in center.
Sylar clears his throat, and the toddler raises his head, stopping in his tracks, eyes going wide at the sight of this peculiarly colored stranger. Those giant brown orbs staring into his own eyes are vastly familiar but it still takes a few moments for Sylar to get over the sight of seeing him as a toddler and with it, all plans go flying out the window in an unexpected twist.
Toddler Mohinder is the first to speak, breaking the walls of quiet with a not quite perfect speech. “Hewwo.”
“Hello.”
“Yow skin is funny.”
“Is it?”
Mohinder’s small head moves up and down, unruly curls bouncing, then, “Are you Papa’s fwiend?”
Sylar gives a small ironic smile. “You could say that.” He crouches down, and holds a hand out to the child, “My name is Gabriel.”
Mohinder shoves his little left fist into his mouth, biting down on it as he shyly looks at the outstretched hand.
“It’s okay,” Sylar coos gently, gesturing for Mohinder to come forward but the child doesn’t move, content with staring openly at him instead.
Frustrated at not being able to get even a damn child to approach him, Sylar drops the hand but glancing around at the open courtyard full of blooming flowers and plants he gets an idea.
A stone bench is a few feet away, and Sylar takes the opportunity to sit, Mohinder’s inquisitive eyes following him silently the whole time. He leans forward, opening one palm upwards, and pretends to ignore Mohinder as he lets his hand light up with crackling blue electricity.
The toddler’s eyes widen, fist dropping from his mouth and transfixed, Mohinder takes a few unbalanced steps in Sylar’s direction. When he is not but a meter away, Sylar swiftly closes his palm, snuffing out the blue light. Mohinder lets loose a small cry of disappointment, but when Sylar turns to look at him, he goes silent once more.
“Would you like to see that again?”
At Mohinder’s rapid nod, Sylar smirks, “Of course you do.”
This time a bright orange flame bursts up from his hand, and it isn’t long before Mohinder has toddled his way onto the stone bench, sitting beside him, feet swinging back and forth as they hang in the air above the ground.
The fire reflects in Mohinder’s big brown fixated eyes, and the innocence of it all is not lost on Sylar. This child state finds Mohinder just as curious as before, with before actually being the future. But this version of Mohinder definitely lacks the banter properties his older counterpart had.
“Want to see something better?”
Mohinder looks to him with a slightly doubtful but excited expression. “Yus.”
Extinguishing the flame, Sylar eyes the area till he settles on a brown lizard, flicking its tongue out as it settles on the courtyard’s granite fountain. He points this out to Mohinder, who leans eagerly forward to try and spot the creature, eager to see another ‘trick’.
Sylar extends his hand, and slowly so he doesn’t frighten Mohinder, he floats the lizard towards them, stopping it and leaving it hovering in mid-air
“How yu do tat?” A dark hand rises and gingerly pokes at the squirming, floating lizard.
“Magic.”
“Mwagic?” And that doubtful look is back as Mohinder tilts his head and looks at him. “Papa says mwagic dun exist.”
“I bet Chandra says a lot of things.”
Things about evolution, power, destiny, hope and being special, Sylar thinks quietly to himself.
Mohinder’s attention has fallen back to the lizard, but his eyes are dulling in a quiet hurt. “Momma an Papa are sad. An I think I deed it.”
Sylar raises his eyebrows, interest spiked. “Did what?”
The tot shrugs, “I dun no, but Papa says I come too late an then he gets weally sad.”
A rage begins to grow deep in the pit of his stomach as Sylar realizes that Mohinder is talking of his late sister Shanti. Already Chandra is throwing his guilt upon Mohinder who can not even begin to understand any of the reasons why at this young and precious age.
“Mohinder!” A shrill female voice calls from inside the house, startling the two of them, the lizard plopping onto Mohinder’s lap as the telekinetic hold is released.
Sylar stands hurriedly. His time is up and he has things to get back to in his future since he is obviously not going to do anything here. Then there is a small tug of his pants and Sylar looks down to Mohinder peering up at him through his dark curls, face distressed, one hand gripping Sylar’s pant leg tightly, the other clutching the lizard.
“Dun go.”
The voice yells again, “Mohinder!”
Sylar gently pries the small fist off with one hand, not quite sure how to take this. “Sorry Mohinder.”
“Who will be my fwiend?”
Sylar freezes at this and then realizing his hand still holds Mohinder’s, he hastily drops it and tries to ignore the question.
Mohinder’s distraught deep brown eyes are boring into him, and Sylar shifts his gaze to avoid this painful eye contact but finally he mutters, “Keep the lizard.”
And he teleports away.
He doesn’t make it far though, teleporting just behind a few bushes and a tree giving him a clear and wide view of the courtyard’s central area. Mohinder dark curly head is spinning around as he urgently looks for Sylar, hand still clutching the lizard held tightly to his chest.
“Mohinder!” An older Indian woman, dark hair masked with a cloth cover, strides toward the child, aggravated. “I’ve been calling you. Come inside now.”
“But Momma, my fwiend Gabwiel -.”
“Your father needs to speak to you Mohinder. Right now.”
Nodding obediently, Mohinder kneels in front of the stone bench, placing the lizard carefully on the bench and running a small finger down it’s back.
“Bwye Gabwiel.” Mohinder whispers softly to lizard. He pushes himself back onto his feet and rushes towards his Mother taking her hand before being dragged back indoors, the woman ‘tsk’ing at him the whole way.
Sylar watches this, grumbling to himself. He’ll have to ruin Mohinder another time, another place. Perhaps one where he isn’t so damn cute.
<3
Author: Maxinegray
Characters: Toddler!Mohinder, Sylar
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cuteness, possible crack
Spoilers: None
Summary/Prompt: Sylar goes back in time to see Mohinder as a toddler.
Word Count: 1,222
A/N: Written for mabetini as a present. And for the sake of this story Toddler!Mohinder speaks English.
There is a certain purity that comes with childhood and is then lost. Before monsters and scary things in the dark, there lies a pinnacle of simplistic pure innocence. And to take it all away requires nothing less then the fear and terror of the presence of a killer but Sylar likes to go beyond the norm.
He is precise in the execution of his plan, arriving exactly where and when he intended despite never having been here before. The Indian home is exactly as pictured, heavy with its culture but beautiful and elegant. He has arrived in the center of the home’s outdoor garden courtyard, with the flowers in full bloom
There is the pitter-patter of sandaled feet as they begin to set slowly towards Sylar down a pathway out of sight. Then a considerably young child, head full of dark wild curls and beautiful chocolate skin, rounds the sharp corner, one small hand bracing up against the wall for support. His head is down, watching his feet in front of him as he gradually progresses towards the courtyard, not at all noticing the large man in center.
Sylar clears his throat, and the toddler raises his head, stopping in his tracks, eyes going wide at the sight of this peculiarly colored stranger. Those giant brown orbs staring into his own eyes are vastly familiar but it still takes a few moments for Sylar to get over the sight of seeing him as a toddler and with it, all plans go flying out the window in an unexpected twist.
Toddler Mohinder is the first to speak, breaking the walls of quiet with a not quite perfect speech. “Hewwo.”
“Hello.”
“Yow skin is funny.”
“Is it?”
Mohinder’s small head moves up and down, unruly curls bouncing, then, “Are you Papa’s fwiend?”
Sylar gives a small ironic smile. “You could say that.” He crouches down, and holds a hand out to the child, “My name is Gabriel.”
Mohinder shoves his little left fist into his mouth, biting down on it as he shyly looks at the outstretched hand.
“It’s okay,” Sylar coos gently, gesturing for Mohinder to come forward but the child doesn’t move, content with staring openly at him instead.
Frustrated at not being able to get even a damn child to approach him, Sylar drops the hand but glancing around at the open courtyard full of blooming flowers and plants he gets an idea.
A stone bench is a few feet away, and Sylar takes the opportunity to sit, Mohinder’s inquisitive eyes following him silently the whole time. He leans forward, opening one palm upwards, and pretends to ignore Mohinder as he lets his hand light up with crackling blue electricity.
The toddler’s eyes widen, fist dropping from his mouth and transfixed, Mohinder takes a few unbalanced steps in Sylar’s direction. When he is not but a meter away, Sylar swiftly closes his palm, snuffing out the blue light. Mohinder lets loose a small cry of disappointment, but when Sylar turns to look at him, he goes silent once more.
“Would you like to see that again?”
At Mohinder’s rapid nod, Sylar smirks, “Of course you do.”
This time a bright orange flame bursts up from his hand, and it isn’t long before Mohinder has toddled his way onto the stone bench, sitting beside him, feet swinging back and forth as they hang in the air above the ground.
The fire reflects in Mohinder’s big brown fixated eyes, and the innocence of it all is not lost on Sylar. This child state finds Mohinder just as curious as before, with before actually being the future. But this version of Mohinder definitely lacks the banter properties his older counterpart had.
“Want to see something better?”
Mohinder looks to him with a slightly doubtful but excited expression. “Yus.”
Extinguishing the flame, Sylar eyes the area till he settles on a brown lizard, flicking its tongue out as it settles on the courtyard’s granite fountain. He points this out to Mohinder, who leans eagerly forward to try and spot the creature, eager to see another ‘trick’.
Sylar extends his hand, and slowly so he doesn’t frighten Mohinder, he floats the lizard towards them, stopping it and leaving it hovering in mid-air
“How yu do tat?” A dark hand rises and gingerly pokes at the squirming, floating lizard.
“Magic.”
“Mwagic?” And that doubtful look is back as Mohinder tilts his head and looks at him. “Papa says mwagic dun exist.”
“I bet Chandra says a lot of things.”
Things about evolution, power, destiny, hope and being special, Sylar thinks quietly to himself.
Mohinder’s attention has fallen back to the lizard, but his eyes are dulling in a quiet hurt. “Momma an Papa are sad. An I think I deed it.”
Sylar raises his eyebrows, interest spiked. “Did what?”
The tot shrugs, “I dun no, but Papa says I come too late an then he gets weally sad.”
A rage begins to grow deep in the pit of his stomach as Sylar realizes that Mohinder is talking of his late sister Shanti. Already Chandra is throwing his guilt upon Mohinder who can not even begin to understand any of the reasons why at this young and precious age.
“Mohinder!” A shrill female voice calls from inside the house, startling the two of them, the lizard plopping onto Mohinder’s lap as the telekinetic hold is released.
Sylar stands hurriedly. His time is up and he has things to get back to in his future since he is obviously not going to do anything here. Then there is a small tug of his pants and Sylar looks down to Mohinder peering up at him through his dark curls, face distressed, one hand gripping Sylar’s pant leg tightly, the other clutching the lizard.
“Dun go.”
The voice yells again, “Mohinder!”
Sylar gently pries the small fist off with one hand, not quite sure how to take this. “Sorry Mohinder.”
“Who will be my fwiend?”
Sylar freezes at this and then realizing his hand still holds Mohinder’s, he hastily drops it and tries to ignore the question.
Mohinder’s distraught deep brown eyes are boring into him, and Sylar shifts his gaze to avoid this painful eye contact but finally he mutters, “Keep the lizard.”
And he teleports away.
He doesn’t make it far though, teleporting just behind a few bushes and a tree giving him a clear and wide view of the courtyard’s central area. Mohinder dark curly head is spinning around as he urgently looks for Sylar, hand still clutching the lizard held tightly to his chest.
“Mohinder!” An older Indian woman, dark hair masked with a cloth cover, strides toward the child, aggravated. “I’ve been calling you. Come inside now.”
“But Momma, my fwiend Gabwiel -.”
“Your father needs to speak to you Mohinder. Right now.”
Nodding obediently, Mohinder kneels in front of the stone bench, placing the lizard carefully on the bench and running a small finger down it’s back.
“Bwye Gabwiel.” Mohinder whispers softly to lizard. He pushes himself back onto his feet and rushes towards his Mother taking her hand before being dragged back indoors, the woman ‘tsk’ing at him the whole way.
Sylar watches this, grumbling to himself. He’ll have to ruin Mohinder another time, another place. Perhaps one where he isn’t so damn cute.
<3