Paternal
Title: Paternal
Characters/Pairing: Sylar, Martin Gray
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,333
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summery: Sylar visits his father to tell him the happy news.
Note: KW verse. Set after "Choke."
Again had this almost finished for too long.
28th June 2007
Inner Harbour, Baltimore
The harbour water usually ripples with the electric lights from the buildings around it, but now everything is dark, everything is deathly quiet. He tilts his head and can just detect the laboured breathing of someone dying in a park across the Harbour, someone that didn't make it to quarantine. Or maybe they just dumped that person when they saw they had the symptoms and left him to die. Hands in his pockets and his hair ruffling a little in the breeze he looks up at the shop and comes to a stop. He had imagined that he would just swagger in, give the old man a fright. More he wanted that thrill of recognition, the disbelief that it was him. But now that he's actually here he feels hesitant.
Does he know about mom? What if he's dead?...no, I can hear him breathing, sleeping.
But still he can't move. He looks over his shoulder to see a CDC tuck come to a stop and people in HazMat suits spilling out. He watches them as they cover the dead man in plastic and slot him into the back of the truck. Their torches shine brightly as they head into the dark streets to gather more.
That job sucks...but soon there won't be anyone to do it, the dead just left out in the street to rot. Not even the carrion will touch us.
Them.
Drawing himself back from these macabre thoughts he takes a step forward, balling his fist, opens the door and enters. The repair shop is just as he remembers it, he wouldn't be surprised if that old TV is the same one, that radio. Just like Gray & Sons it's a place where everything has been fixed anew but hardly anyone wants to reclaim. He had restored everything he could get his hands on and the place had become over crowded for that reason. He didn't want to get rid of something he had worked so hard on.
A few low burning candles sit on display cases and it casts his shadow on the wall, wavering and flicking strangely as he comes to a stop before the sleeping man. He's seated at his desk, coat used as a blanket. Sylar takes a a seat opposite him and sighs. Johnny Lee Hooker plays very faintly and he smiles, he always did have good taste in music.
"If you want a repair you'll have to go somewhere else, I'm closed." The voice is too calm, someone trying to control their fear and he looks at him evenly.
"The door was open...but don't worry, I don't want a repair." He says softly, smirking but it feels ill fitting. His eyes sweep over the man's face, searching for changes. He was older, hair more white but everything else was the same.
"Well if you're here to steal my stuff, god knows why, then go ahead. I just want to be left alone." He says and adjusts the coat over himself and Sylar stares at him, face still. It had been over thirteen years since they had last met and he wasn't surprised that he doesn't recognise him. But he never expected it to hurt. He reaches over and turns the sound down on the music and then picks up the man's glasses and offers them to him. He remains very still for a moment and then leans up to take them. Once on he blinks at him, still with no recognition and so Sylar smiles at him shyly.
"Hi dad."
"Gabe - Gabriel?" Martin Gray stares open mouthed at his son, his eyes roving over him with shock. He sits up in the chair, the coat falling onto his lap. "I hardly recognised you."
No terror, no anger, just...normal. Sylar looks down at his expensive black pea-coat and suddenly feels very self conscious. When he looks back up a self depreciating smile is in place. "Thought it was time I stopped dressing like you." His father scoffs and finally looks away and a silence falls. A siren of the CDC blares outside, coming closer. Martin sighs and sits back, looking out of the window.
"We're meant to go to a check point, to get sorted, but then they realised they didn't have enough spaces. So they've implemented a lottery. First time I ever won anything." He says with a nihilistic humour.
"You're healthy, you should go." He utters quietly, not wanting to sound too concerned. But he was, strange.
Martin regards him with a sombre gaze and then shakes his head. "We both know it wouldn't make a difference. They could move us half way across the country and it wouldn't do any good. It's not a matter of if with this thing but when." His father was never one to mince his words. He narrows his eyes and cocks a brow. "Been in a fight?"
Sylar's lips part and he stops his hand from touching the bruises and cuts that had been inflicted brutally upon him. By Maya. Instead of answering he shrugs and then stands. He comes to a cabinet and crouches down until he finds what he's looking for. The old clock. He stands and places it on the desk and Martin smiles at it.
"Your mother hated that thing, I'm glad you sent it back to me." He stares up suddenly, pining his eye. "Your mother, how is she?" Sylar opens his mouth but can't speak. He really doesn't know. Sylar looks down, his eyes glossy and hears his father sigh sadly. "Ah...I'm sorry...we might have had are differences but I don't hold any ill will towards her now. She was...ill."
He can't respond to that, not without saying something he shouldn't. He balls his fists tight, looking back up. He settles a calm mask over his features and then gestures to the clock. "I've come back for this, for the plate at the back." He watches Martin's brows rise.
"What for?"
Sylar smiles and it's overjoyed. And scared. "Because I'll have a name to add to the list. I'm going to be a father."
As expected and greatly wanted his father sits stunned for a moment and then smiles, a genuine and sweet thing. "Congratulations Gabriel...I never expected to ever hear that..."
"I never thought it would happen to me. But fate's a funny thing, isn't it?"
Martin nods with a smile and inspects the metal plate on the clock, at the list of all those old Gray names that finish with Gabriel. He sits back, unfocused and Sylar starts to move back. "I shouldn't have left you alone with her." He says suddenly but with great weight, as if he's been waiting years for it to be out.
Sylar remains calm, mute for a long time before he shrugs. "I'm fine. Goodbye dad." He moves towards the door, hand of the latch and takes one more look back. "I don't blame you any more, I understand why you needed to get out but I'm not going to let history repeat itself. I'm taking her - them - away from here and I'm going to take care of them, no matter what. Because they're mine. The world is being washed away and I intend to be standing on the other side someone...different, better."
Martin smiles, this time a little more forced. "Well, good luck and I'll be thinking of you...do you know what you're having?"
"A girl."
"A girl, a baby girl..." he smiles wistfully and lays his head back and pulls his jacket back over himself. He was actually going to sit here until he died after hearing such wonderful news?
"Maybe one day you'll be able to see your granddaughter, if you feel like it." He whispers, an edge to his words and Martin opens his eyes, frozen, before he looks out of his window again, deep in troubling thought.
Sylar moves out into the open, the sound of clocks cut off sharply as the door closes behind him. The water reflects the flashing sirens of the CDC trucks and the orange men that flank out along the harbour and he slips away silently.
He had someone else to check up on.
Characters/Pairing: Sylar, Martin Gray
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,333
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summery: Sylar visits his father to tell him the happy news.
Note: KW verse. Set after "Choke."
Again had this almost finished for too long.
28th June 2007
Inner Harbour, Baltimore
The harbour water usually ripples with the electric lights from the buildings around it, but now everything is dark, everything is deathly quiet. He tilts his head and can just detect the laboured breathing of someone dying in a park across the Harbour, someone that didn't make it to quarantine. Or maybe they just dumped that person when they saw they had the symptoms and left him to die. Hands in his pockets and his hair ruffling a little in the breeze he looks up at the shop and comes to a stop. He had imagined that he would just swagger in, give the old man a fright. More he wanted that thrill of recognition, the disbelief that it was him. But now that he's actually here he feels hesitant.
Does he know about mom? What if he's dead?...no, I can hear him breathing, sleeping.
But still he can't move. He looks over his shoulder to see a CDC tuck come to a stop and people in HazMat suits spilling out. He watches them as they cover the dead man in plastic and slot him into the back of the truck. Their torches shine brightly as they head into the dark streets to gather more.
That job sucks...but soon there won't be anyone to do it, the dead just left out in the street to rot. Not even the carrion will touch us.
Them.
Drawing himself back from these macabre thoughts he takes a step forward, balling his fist, opens the door and enters. The repair shop is just as he remembers it, he wouldn't be surprised if that old TV is the same one, that radio. Just like Gray & Sons it's a place where everything has been fixed anew but hardly anyone wants to reclaim. He had restored everything he could get his hands on and the place had become over crowded for that reason. He didn't want to get rid of something he had worked so hard on.
A few low burning candles sit on display cases and it casts his shadow on the wall, wavering and flicking strangely as he comes to a stop before the sleeping man. He's seated at his desk, coat used as a blanket. Sylar takes a a seat opposite him and sighs. Johnny Lee Hooker plays very faintly and he smiles, he always did have good taste in music.
"If you want a repair you'll have to go somewhere else, I'm closed." The voice is too calm, someone trying to control their fear and he looks at him evenly.
"The door was open...but don't worry, I don't want a repair." He says softly, smirking but it feels ill fitting. His eyes sweep over the man's face, searching for changes. He was older, hair more white but everything else was the same.
"Well if you're here to steal my stuff, god knows why, then go ahead. I just want to be left alone." He says and adjusts the coat over himself and Sylar stares at him, face still. It had been over thirteen years since they had last met and he wasn't surprised that he doesn't recognise him. But he never expected it to hurt. He reaches over and turns the sound down on the music and then picks up the man's glasses and offers them to him. He remains very still for a moment and then leans up to take them. Once on he blinks at him, still with no recognition and so Sylar smiles at him shyly.
"Hi dad."
"Gabe - Gabriel?" Martin Gray stares open mouthed at his son, his eyes roving over him with shock. He sits up in the chair, the coat falling onto his lap. "I hardly recognised you."
No terror, no anger, just...normal. Sylar looks down at his expensive black pea-coat and suddenly feels very self conscious. When he looks back up a self depreciating smile is in place. "Thought it was time I stopped dressing like you." His father scoffs and finally looks away and a silence falls. A siren of the CDC blares outside, coming closer. Martin sighs and sits back, looking out of the window.
"We're meant to go to a check point, to get sorted, but then they realised they didn't have enough spaces. So they've implemented a lottery. First time I ever won anything." He says with a nihilistic humour.
"You're healthy, you should go." He utters quietly, not wanting to sound too concerned. But he was, strange.
Martin regards him with a sombre gaze and then shakes his head. "We both know it wouldn't make a difference. They could move us half way across the country and it wouldn't do any good. It's not a matter of if with this thing but when." His father was never one to mince his words. He narrows his eyes and cocks a brow. "Been in a fight?"
Sylar's lips part and he stops his hand from touching the bruises and cuts that had been inflicted brutally upon him. By Maya. Instead of answering he shrugs and then stands. He comes to a cabinet and crouches down until he finds what he's looking for. The old clock. He stands and places it on the desk and Martin smiles at it.
"Your mother hated that thing, I'm glad you sent it back to me." He stares up suddenly, pining his eye. "Your mother, how is she?" Sylar opens his mouth but can't speak. He really doesn't know. Sylar looks down, his eyes glossy and hears his father sigh sadly. "Ah...I'm sorry...we might have had are differences but I don't hold any ill will towards her now. She was...ill."
He can't respond to that, not without saying something he shouldn't. He balls his fists tight, looking back up. He settles a calm mask over his features and then gestures to the clock. "I've come back for this, for the plate at the back." He watches Martin's brows rise.
"What for?"
Sylar smiles and it's overjoyed. And scared. "Because I'll have a name to add to the list. I'm going to be a father."
As expected and greatly wanted his father sits stunned for a moment and then smiles, a genuine and sweet thing. "Congratulations Gabriel...I never expected to ever hear that..."
"I never thought it would happen to me. But fate's a funny thing, isn't it?"
Martin nods with a smile and inspects the metal plate on the clock, at the list of all those old Gray names that finish with Gabriel. He sits back, unfocused and Sylar starts to move back. "I shouldn't have left you alone with her." He says suddenly but with great weight, as if he's been waiting years for it to be out.
Sylar remains calm, mute for a long time before he shrugs. "I'm fine. Goodbye dad." He moves towards the door, hand of the latch and takes one more look back. "I don't blame you any more, I understand why you needed to get out but I'm not going to let history repeat itself. I'm taking her - them - away from here and I'm going to take care of them, no matter what. Because they're mine. The world is being washed away and I intend to be standing on the other side someone...different, better."
Martin smiles, this time a little more forced. "Well, good luck and I'll be thinking of you...do you know what you're having?"
"A girl."
"A girl, a baby girl..." he smiles wistfully and lays his head back and pulls his jacket back over himself. He was actually going to sit here until he died after hearing such wonderful news?
"Maybe one day you'll be able to see your granddaughter, if you feel like it." He whispers, an edge to his words and Martin opens his eyes, frozen, before he looks out of his window again, deep in troubling thought.
Sylar moves out into the open, the sound of clocks cut off sharply as the door closes behind him. The water reflects the flashing sirens of the CDC trucks and the orange men that flank out along the harbour and he slips away silently.
He had someone else to check up on.