Que Sera Sera - 1
Title: Que Sera Sera - 1
Author: cameroncrazed
Rating: PG (language)
Pairing: none for now (eventually Sylar/Claire)
Spoilers: Season 3, particular 3.04 (I Am Become Death)
Disclaimer: Not mine, never has been mine - not the concept, the characters, nothing.
A/N: A particular cutie in the episode inspired me - I bet you can figure out which one :) I hope you like it - there will be a companion piece and/or sequel at some point in the near future (more from Claire's perspective) Also, I don't think anyone's used this title before, but if you have - let me know, I'll change it :) Oh, and for right now, Sylar/Claire appear to be related - hope this doesn't bother anyone
"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!” Angela sits straight up in bed, screaming for a few seconds before she realizes what she is doing. If anyone else had been there, she would have blushed over the embarrassment of losing control like that, but that dream, those screams…
She shakes her head, and wraps her arms around herself. For all of her sons’ talk about changing the world, fighting against destiny, she rarely ever attempted changing what was and is to be, but this time she’s tempted. A brief memory of a young blonde holding a screaming baby, both crying uncontrollably, races across her mind and she wonders again if she should interfere or not, if she should try to spare Claire the fate awaiting her. If she should step in and prevent the child from existing, but then again…
The next morning, as she tries not to be noticed slipping into the Babies R Us store - it wouldn’t do for the press to see her and start rumors floating around Manhattan like wildfires - she steels herself for the hardships ahead. That child, she knows, is going to completely wreck her life, change her precious Gabriel’s life, but what is meant to be will happen. There’s no point fighting against destiny, she thinks as she fingers the soft material on the baby carrier, but there’s no point in not being prepared either.
When she leaves the store, several thousand dollars poorer, at least she knows that she’s prepared. The child will never want for anything; she’ll make sure of that.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Heads up, your mother wants to see us.” Noah calls out as he wraps on the door of Sylar’s room. He still can’t believe he’d been permanently paired with the semi-reformed killer; two year of working together as “partners” and he still wants to shoot the man.
“What about?” Sylar asks as he stands up from where he’d been sitting, slipping on his suit jacket.
“Didn’t say, only to bring you and that Claire’s going with us on this one.” He’d fought Angela, but not won, over Claire’s involvement. The field was no place for her, but for some odd reason, no one would listen to him. Everyone else in the Company just loved her, thought she was a perfect operative. He thought they were all insane, letting a little girl out amongst the freaks and criminals.
“Claire?” There’s an odd note in Sylar’s voice as he steps out of his tiny apartment, letting the door fall shut behind him. “You’re actually letting her out to play? Didn’t think you liked letting Princess do field work.”
“Don’t look at her, don’t talk to her or about her, don’t touch her, just don’t do anything near or to or with her.” Noah’s eyes narrow. “Are we clear on this or not?”
“Crystal.” Sylar pauses a few seconds, unable to let go of the chance to get under his partner’s skin, then continues. “Although, she is my niece. I mean, we share blood, share family, we’re so similar…”
Even though Noah knows that Sylar is just pushing at him, testing the boundaries, and that he shouldn’t react, he can’t help it. He shoves the younger man against the wall of the corridor, and snarls. “You’re nothing alike, you son of a bitch.”
“Noah, dear, so glad to hear what you really think of me.” Angela steps into the hallway, not the least bit perturbed by the scene. “Now, let my son down. Now, please, Noah. We need to discuss this mission.” She starts walking away, and Noah and Sylar have to scramble to catch up with her. “I just want to go on the record as saying that I didn’t want you two anywhere near this mission, but you are my best operatives. Here’s what you need to know…”
As she sends her two favorites out on what will be their last mission, there’s a sad smile on her face. It has to happen, she knows, but the changes it will bring and the secrets it will uncover will rock them all.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Claire, duck!” Noah yells as he trains his gun on their target, the man they’d been chasing for several days.
Instead of ducking however, she turns and kicks the man in the shin. As he groans and grabs at his leg, she hits him on the head with a balled up fist. “Thanks for the assist, but I’ve got it Dad!”
The hit isn’t hard enough to knock the man out, so she pulls her taser out of her back pocket and presses it against his torso. Grinning, she pulls the trigger.
The man screams as the electricity surges through him, but he keeps his wits together enough to grab her exposed wrist. “B… b… bi…” He’s shaking to hard to finish the comment, but he uses what’s left of his strength to force his power into her. Expecting to have her fall back, instantly old, white-haired and feeble, he’s shocked when she just laughs, still young and golden.
“Oh, did you think that was actually going to work?” She kicks him in the side and wrenches away from him, breaking his hold on her wrist.
His eyes narrow. The bitch is going down, if it’s the last thing he does. They’d burst into his home, upset his wife, chased him across three states, made his life miserable, and if he wasn’t wrong, she’d just broken one of his ribs with that last kick. The two men, he’d let them go, but he was going to get her. Scrambling back away from her, he tried to think. If he couldn’t make her old…
“Claire, stop toying with him and just bag him already.” Sylar comments from his position on the sidelines. It’s always so fun to watch her work, but it doesn’t leave him with anything to do. “And next time, aim two inches lower - go for the kidneys.”
“What part of ‘don’t talk to her’ did you not understand, Sylar?” Noah yells back at him.
“Well excuse me for trying to correct her form. Maybe if you didn’t baby her all the time, she’d know where to kick and how to hit properly!” Sylar yells back at him.
“Shut up!” Claire retorts. “Who asked you?”
“So sorry, princess. Just trying to help.” Sylar snarls at her.
Their target takes advantage of their momentary distraction and crawls back a few feet to a nearby dumpster, using it to pull himself to his feet. He knows he should just run while he has the chance, but the pain in his side is too intense and he also knows they’ll just chase him again as soon as they stop arguing with each other. His eyes narrow as he focuses on the blonde and reaches out his hand. It’s easier for him to use his power and control it if he can make physical contact, but if he tries he can work from a distance.
Noah notices his movements and yells “Stop right there!”, raising his gun, trying to run to Claire’s side in time.
Shaking from exertion, the man pushes his powers out just as Noah fires. The force of the bullet hitting him makes his aim fail, and three screams ring out.
As Sylar takes in the scene, he curses out loud. “Oh, fuck me.”
- - - - - - - - - -
“We need some help out here.” Sylar hates having to ask his mother for assistance, but he can’t control the situation. His grip on the cell phone tightens, as does his grip on Bennet.
“Oh, dear, what’s wrong?” Angela asks as if she doesn’t know, as if she can’t hear the wails of the baby in the background.
“Does the phrase ‘SNAFU’ mean anything to you? The mark’s dead, and there’s been an… incident… with Bennet.”
“Dear, please do be more specific. Do we need a doctor, or a lawyer, or a hearse?”
Before Sylar can respond, he feels a liquid warmth against his side. He looks down at the now smiling baby. “Fuck.”
“Language, Gabriel!” There’s a note of laughter in her voice she just can’t hide.
“Send diapers. Lots of ‘em.” With that, Sylar flips the phone closed and pushes the baby towards Claire. “You take him. He might be the size of a three month old, but he still has his memory. Be willing to bet he won’t piss on you.”
With that, he shoves the baby, wrapped only in a suit jacket, into her unwilling arms and storms off, waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Instinctively, she cradles him in her arms. “Oh, Daddy,” she whispers as she starts to cry again.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Well, we certainly have a situation here, don’t we, oh yes, don’t we you little cutie?” Angela coos at Noah as Sylar and Claire look on in disbelief. “Oh yes we do. And what are we going to do about it?”
“Reverse it?” Claire suggests.
“And we’re going to do that how?” Sylar snaps at her. “Bennet shot him in the head, so there goes any chance I had to getting that power, and we don’t know of anyone else that can do anything similar.”
She bites her lip. “What about Peter?”
“What, you’re going to have him go back in time - when we all know how well that always turns out - to do what? Prevent it? Copy his power?” Sylar wants to break something every time that she turns to precious Peter to save her ass. He can do anything his brother can do, but oh no… he’s not good enough to help her.
“Stop it!” Angela commands. “We’re not reversing it. The question is who’s going to raise him?”
“Raise him? Raise him? You’re seriously going to let my father stay as a baby?” Claire responds. “No, no way, no how. I want my father back.”
Sylar’s irate, and her tone’s not helping his headache. “Oh, stop being a brat.”
Angela holds Noah closer as he begins to get fussy. “Both of you, quiet now. You’re upsetting the child. Like I said before, which one of you is going to raise him?”
“I don’t know anything about babies, let her.” Sylar crosses his arms over his chest.
Claire refuses. “No, I’m not raising him. You turn him back into an adult.”
“Claire, dear, that’s not going to happen.”
“I lost my mom less than a year ago, and now you’re telling me that I’ve lost my dad too. No. I want him back.” Her voice starts to quiver as a tiny voice in the back of her head starts to whisper that she’s effectively an orphan now. “No. Please.”
Noah starts to wail as Claire starts to sniffle, trying to fight back tears. It’s a sign of how upset she is that when Sylar reaches out to place a comforting arm on her hand, she lets him. When Noah sees that, he starts to scream even louder.
“Well then, since neither of you will, and I’m too old to raise another child, I guess we’ll just to have to find some adoptive parents. Of course, we’ll have to wipe his memory; he can’t be allowed to grow up with the memories of his old life.”
Claire does burst into tears over that comment, and Sylar pulls her into a hug, trying to comfort her. “Do we have to?” he asks his mother. “Is there really no other way?”
“Think about what he’s done, Gabriel. The life he’s lived. It would be cruel not to wipe his mind. No child should have to grow up knowing the things he knows. Do you really want a three year old having to relive the day he buried his wife? Or knowing that he can’t do anything to protect his daughter until he can get out of nappies and dressed on his own? Want a five year old running around knowing how to assemble a gun and use it effectively? That would be entirely too traumatic for him, and I don’t know if we can find adoptive parents for him with the necessary security clearances in case he does spill his secrets.”
Sylar looks at the screaming baby in his mother’s arms, and at his sobbing niece in his embrace. There’s only one thing he can do. “I’ll take him.”
Noah’s eyes widen, and he starts shrieking louder than ever.
“You’re a good boy, Gabriel.” Angela smiles at her son; she’d always known he’d step up and do the right thing. She presses the buzzer on her desk, signaling the Haitian to enter the room.
“Wait.” Claire speaks up. “Don’t, please don’t. Let me say goodbye yet.”
Angela rises from her chair, and walks over to Claire, carefully transfers Noah into her waiting arms. “Come on Gabriel, let’s give them some privacy.”
As she walks out of the room, she turns around to see the young blonde holding a screaming baby, both crying uncontrollably, just like she’d dreamed it.
- - - - - - - - - -
“You know, Gabriel, that there are still secrets I keep from you?” It’s probably neither the time nor the place for this particular conversation, but Angela can’t help but give her a son a tiny hint about his destiny.
“Had that figured.” He grins, then frowns. “Do you think she’s okay in there? She’s still crying, and Bennet’s screaming his head off.”
“Dear, he’s going to be your son. I think you can stop calling him ‘Bennet’ now, unless you’re planning on christening him that.”
“My son.” The words are a whisper. “I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”
“That’s part of why the Haitian is needed; we can’t have him growing up hating his father. And he most definitely will if he can remember everything.”
“This is so fu… messed up.” He wonders if it’s too late to run away, run away from Bennet, his mother, his niece, his life. Life was never this complicated when he was still killing. He wonders if there’s any place he could go where his mother wouldn’t be able to track him. “My son just happens to be the father of my niece. This is so fucked up.”
“Is he now?” Angela hopes he takes the bait.
“Well, my adoptive son is the adoptive father of my niece. So messed up.”
Angela smirks, and turns to open the door to her office. Before she pushes it open, she repeats her comment from earlier. “Is he now?” She walks into her office, leaving her very confused son out in the hallway.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sylar looks at the giggling baby in his arms, and tentatively holds his finger out in front of the child’s face. Noah’s eyes light up and he wraps his little hand around the larger finger. Sylar waits to be bitten, but nothing happens but more giggling. “I think it worked.” If Bennet still remembered anything, there’s no way he would have missed the opportunity to inflict damage, even if does only have one little baby tooth.
“Of course it did.” Angela looks at the new family. “What are you going to name him?”
Claire finally speaks up. “Call him Noah, please. Noah Bennet might have died today, but let him be Noah Gray.”
“Are you sure?” Sylar has to ask, has to make sure she’s okay with this, as much as it’s possible at this point.
“Do it.” Without another word, Claire leaves the room.
Sylar’s not sure if he should go after her or not, until Angela speaks. “Let her be. She needs some time. It’s hard for her to deal with now, but she’ll come around soon enough. Now, I’ve gotten a few things for little Noah, like a crib and a car seat and some clothes, essentials, that sort of thing. I’m having them sent over to the Bennet house right now. You’ll take the master; the nursery’s being set up in the room right next door. The kitchen’s fully stocked, and your belongings are being sent over with Noah’s things. Now, before you go, let me hold my new grandbaby again.”
He can’t help but think that she’s entirely too calm about the entire thing, too prepared, like she knew this was going to happen. She’d even had a birth certificate printed up for Noah Nathan Gray, father Gabriel Gray, mother unknown, ready to hand him as soon as Claire had suggested the name. He wonders what other secrets she’s hiding.
- - - - - - - - - -
As Sylar walks out into the bright sunlight, his new son curled against his shoulder, keys to his new house - his partner's old house - in hand, he wonders what the future’s going to bring. He walks over to Noah Bennet’s car, his now, and places the baby in the car seat in the back. It seems strange to take the driver’s seat, and he has to push the seat back in order to get his legs in. It’s a strange reversal of life as he’s known it, but he can’t think about that now.
He hears Noah’s little stomach rumble, and his answers. “Well,” and he pauses because he can’t call the boy Bennet and Noah seems too odd for him, and he doesn’t know what to call his son, “well, buddy, let’s say we go get some supper. I could go for some waffles, what about you?”