Fic: Fathers
Title: Fathers
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: PG
Summary: This was no way for a man to meet his child.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Slash, AU, Mpreg, spoilers for season 3
They're flanked. Four large men-stone faced and silent-stand guard, carefully watching his every move from their own respective corner of the too white room. He's been with the Company for almost a year now, yet they still don't seem to trust him. Or maybe it isn't the Company that lacks faith in him. Maybe it's his surprise visitor that requested such heavy security be present during their meeting.
Sylar shifts in his seat, cringing internally as the uncomfortable folding chair creeks along with his movements. He settles in his seat, hands laid flat against the flimsy white table that separates him from Mohinder Suresh. He has to keep them there. His hands must be visible at all times. That was one of the terms he'd agreed to.
The arrangement is awkward to say the least. He can tell from Mohinder's posture and stony expression that the other man does not want to be here, yet he had been the one who had arranged their sudden reunion. The two hadn't seen each other for quite some time now-not since Sylar was still trapped in the persona of Nathan Petrelli-which made Mohinder's abrupt contact all the more strange. Sylar would have thought the Indian man would be more than happy for the two of them to "lose touch." Yet there was clearly something Mohinder wanted to say to him, and from the looks of their current situation, Sylar had a feeling it had something to do with the tiny infant sitting in Mohinder's lap.
Sylar felt his jaw clench as he watched the geneticist hold the baby in his arms, tenderly supporting him to sit in an erect position as the child's stubby little fingers tried their best to grasp the man's thumb, fascinated by the shiny silver band encircling it.
"So this is why you left?" he ground out, willing his voice to sound completely even. He had been more than a little annoyed when the news that Mohinder had left America and moved back to India had come his way. He wanted to follow him, he would have gone half way across the world just to drag him back, but the Company had been less than enthusiastic about the idea. They had their claws in him tight, watching his every move, listening to his every breath, possibly even monitoring his thoughts. There was no escaping their constant presence, so he'd just waited, knowing Mohinder would eventually come back. It was destiny.
"Something like that," Mohinder shrugged. The slight movement cause the child to bounce, drawing Sylar's attention to him. The infant looked to be around five or six months old. His skin was much fairer than Sylar would have expected a child of Mohinder's to be, but it was clear just from looking at his head full of curls and dark brown eyes that the two were indeed related.
Sylar let out a long breath as he pulled his eyes away from the baby. He adjusted his weight, trying again to find a comfortable sitting position, and two of the guards began to stand a little taller. "So am I supposed to congratulate you on the newest addition to your family?"
Mohinder's expression was blank as he starred him down, his eyes never straying from Sylar's. He heard the Indian man's heart beat quicken as he tightened his grip on the baby.
"He's yours."
His words were quick and straight to the point. Sylar had to struggle not to make any sudden movements when the familiar tingle that was associated with a lie never came. A sudden shrill scrapping sound suddenly filled the otherwise silent air between them and it took Sylar a few seconds to realize that it was the sound of his fingernails digging into the table as they curled into tight fists. He quickly relaxed his hands, pressing his palms flat against the smooth surface before the guards behind him could take a step forward.
"When did this happen?"
Mohinder smirked as the infant finally managed to grasp his father thumb and began suckling on the tip, not caring that the man would eventually need his digit back. "Oh, you remember," Mohinder said smoothly, not caring that his hand would soon be covered with drool. "Pinehearst. My lab. Two split lips and a black eye."
Sylar felt his eyes narrow. Mohinder's mutation had been... unique, but he never would have guessed that it would cause something like this to happen. "I didn't know you could-"
"Neither did I. A side effect that stuck with me."
He didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified. He had a child-a son-with Mohinder of all people. For some reason he started to think of his mother. She had always wanted him to get married, to give her grandchildren, but he had never planned on it. He had never had any interest in having children. He wondered if Virginia would have been grateful for this turn of events or condemn his offspring?
"Why didn't you tell me?"
The look Mohinder gave him was particularly icy, but it had no real effect on Sylar. He was used to it. "When would have been a good time? When I was being hunted down by the American government or at your funeral?" Sylar suddenly wondered if his... their... the baby would remember if he reached across the table and strangled Mohinder. "I thought you were dead."
"But you obviously found out that I was alive eventually."
"That doesn't change who you are," he snapped. "I was in a delicate condition. I didn't know if I would survive the delivery, do you really think I'd actually turn to a monster like you in such a situation?"
The temperature in the room began to drop as a thin layer of ice started to spread across the table top. One of the guards in front of him took a step forward as the other readied his taser. Mohinder's grip on the baby tightened and his whole body tensed, ready to leap across the room at the drop of a hat. Sylar hated himself for slipping like that, and hated even more when he started to reassure the other men in the room that he would calm down as he reined in his abilities.
"If you hate me so much," he began tensely through clenched teeth, "why'd you keep it?"
The geneticist remained tense as his expression hardened, not liking having his child referred to as "it." "Because he's innocent," he told him, running a gentle hand over the baby's curly hair. "You're the monster. He didn't ask to be born, let alone be your son."
"So why are you telling me about this now?"
"You have Peter to thank for that."
Sylar felt his eyebrow tick at the mention of the only surviving Petrelli son. Some how, he wasn't surprised that the other man had a hand in all of this. "He knew?"
Mohinder nodded and the baby squirmed in his arms, not happy that Mohinder's thumb had escaped his grasp. "He told me you were doing better. He suggested I do this as a 'reward' for your 'good behavior.'"
"But you don't think I deserve it."
The geneticist grew silent as he gazed down at the infant that had now begun to suck on his own fingers instead. He placed a gentle kiss onto the baby's ebony curls before speaking. "I don't think you deserve to know anything about him. If I had my way, you'd never have the pleasure to see the miracle that you helped to create. But I know that I can't hide him from you forever. It'd be naive of me to think so."
Sylar felt his throat go bone dry as he allowed his eyes to glance down at the infant. He didn't look like him. He was all Mohinder. If it weren't for the child's fair, sand colored skin he'd demand a blood test on the spot. "Do you love him?"
"More than anything."
It was the truth. Probably an easy one for Mohinder to admit, and Sylar hated himself for feeling jealous of an infant.
"What's his name?"
"Manu."
"Does it mean anything?"
"It means 'wise.'"
He allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. What an appropriate name for a Suresh.
"Can I hold him?"
Mohinder's eyes widened as the color instantly drained from his face. Sylar watched with mild amusement as the geneticist looked at each one of the guards, making sure that all four men were paying close attention to them. The serial killer had to laugh at the gesture. They both knew that Mohinder could easily rip him apart with his bare hands.
"Hold out your arms," he instructed as he got up from his seat.
Sylar did as he was told watching Mohinder carefully as he maneuvered around the table until he was standing right in front of him. He was shocked when he felt himself start to sweat as Mohinder carefully placed the child in his arms. Sylar instinctively began to cradle him as he'd seen many women do with babies. His heart skipped a beat as, once Mohinder's hands were no longer touching Manu, the infant burst into a fit of tears.
"What's wrong? What did I do?"
The four guards charged towards him, inches away from grabbing him, until Mohinder waved them off. "H-he doesn't like strangers."
The words dug deep into him. A stranger. That's all he was to his own child. Sylar felt his heart tighten as Mohinder crouched down next to him, taking Manu's little hand in his and began cooing soothing words in his native tongue to the sobbing infant. He frowned, realizing then that if Mohinder had his way, the two of them wouldn't even speak the same language. His frown only deepened as he looked around at the four men still standing a few inches away from him. This was no way for a man to meet his child.
"Hold him like this," Mohinder began as he adjusted the child into a sitting position on his lap.
Manu sniffled, his cheeks still stained with tears as Mohinder continued to caress his little fingers with the pad of his thumb. The child looked up at him then, lip trembling and eyes wider than Sylar would have thought possible. It was only then that the man realized that those were his eyes, not Mohinder's, gazing back at him.
Sylar smiled down at him. He felt something, something strange inside of him, when he looked into those too familiar eyes. It was like what he felt when he looked at Mohinder, only different. It was sweeter. Stronger.
"He's beautiful," he sighed. He bent down and pressed a kiss onto Manu's cheek and was surprised by how soft the infant's skin was. "Can he speak yet?"
"No," Mohinder sighed, wiping away the tears still silently running down the child's face. Sylar could tell from the hardened look in his eyes that he did not approve of the man holding their child, let alone kissing him. "Not yet. He just babbles a bit."
"What's he going to call you?"
"Father."
Sylar smirked, rolling his eyes at the man's response. "Fine," he chuckled running a careful hand over the boy's, his son's, soft black hair. "You be father, I'll be 'Papa.' Do you like that?"
As if in response, Manu turned and looked him in the eyes before sneezing right in his face. He was definitely a Suresh.
Part 2
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: PG
Summary: This was no way for a man to meet his child.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Slash, AU, Mpreg, spoilers for season 3
They're flanked. Four large men-stone faced and silent-stand guard, carefully watching his every move from their own respective corner of the too white room. He's been with the Company for almost a year now, yet they still don't seem to trust him. Or maybe it isn't the Company that lacks faith in him. Maybe it's his surprise visitor that requested such heavy security be present during their meeting.
Sylar shifts in his seat, cringing internally as the uncomfortable folding chair creeks along with his movements. He settles in his seat, hands laid flat against the flimsy white table that separates him from Mohinder Suresh. He has to keep them there. His hands must be visible at all times. That was one of the terms he'd agreed to.
The arrangement is awkward to say the least. He can tell from Mohinder's posture and stony expression that the other man does not want to be here, yet he had been the one who had arranged their sudden reunion. The two hadn't seen each other for quite some time now-not since Sylar was still trapped in the persona of Nathan Petrelli-which made Mohinder's abrupt contact all the more strange. Sylar would have thought the Indian man would be more than happy for the two of them to "lose touch." Yet there was clearly something Mohinder wanted to say to him, and from the looks of their current situation, Sylar had a feeling it had something to do with the tiny infant sitting in Mohinder's lap.
Sylar felt his jaw clench as he watched the geneticist hold the baby in his arms, tenderly supporting him to sit in an erect position as the child's stubby little fingers tried their best to grasp the man's thumb, fascinated by the shiny silver band encircling it.
"So this is why you left?" he ground out, willing his voice to sound completely even. He had been more than a little annoyed when the news that Mohinder had left America and moved back to India had come his way. He wanted to follow him, he would have gone half way across the world just to drag him back, but the Company had been less than enthusiastic about the idea. They had their claws in him tight, watching his every move, listening to his every breath, possibly even monitoring his thoughts. There was no escaping their constant presence, so he'd just waited, knowing Mohinder would eventually come back. It was destiny.
"Something like that," Mohinder shrugged. The slight movement cause the child to bounce, drawing Sylar's attention to him. The infant looked to be around five or six months old. His skin was much fairer than Sylar would have expected a child of Mohinder's to be, but it was clear just from looking at his head full of curls and dark brown eyes that the two were indeed related.
Sylar let out a long breath as he pulled his eyes away from the baby. He adjusted his weight, trying again to find a comfortable sitting position, and two of the guards began to stand a little taller. "So am I supposed to congratulate you on the newest addition to your family?"
Mohinder's expression was blank as he starred him down, his eyes never straying from Sylar's. He heard the Indian man's heart beat quicken as he tightened his grip on the baby.
"He's yours."
His words were quick and straight to the point. Sylar had to struggle not to make any sudden movements when the familiar tingle that was associated with a lie never came. A sudden shrill scrapping sound suddenly filled the otherwise silent air between them and it took Sylar a few seconds to realize that it was the sound of his fingernails digging into the table as they curled into tight fists. He quickly relaxed his hands, pressing his palms flat against the smooth surface before the guards behind him could take a step forward.
"When did this happen?"
Mohinder smirked as the infant finally managed to grasp his father thumb and began suckling on the tip, not caring that the man would eventually need his digit back. "Oh, you remember," Mohinder said smoothly, not caring that his hand would soon be covered with drool. "Pinehearst. My lab. Two split lips and a black eye."
Sylar felt his eyes narrow. Mohinder's mutation had been... unique, but he never would have guessed that it would cause something like this to happen. "I didn't know you could-"
"Neither did I. A side effect that stuck with me."
He didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified. He had a child-a son-with Mohinder of all people. For some reason he started to think of his mother. She had always wanted him to get married, to give her grandchildren, but he had never planned on it. He had never had any interest in having children. He wondered if Virginia would have been grateful for this turn of events or condemn his offspring?
"Why didn't you tell me?"
The look Mohinder gave him was particularly icy, but it had no real effect on Sylar. He was used to it. "When would have been a good time? When I was being hunted down by the American government or at your funeral?" Sylar suddenly wondered if his... their... the baby would remember if he reached across the table and strangled Mohinder. "I thought you were dead."
"But you obviously found out that I was alive eventually."
"That doesn't change who you are," he snapped. "I was in a delicate condition. I didn't know if I would survive the delivery, do you really think I'd actually turn to a monster like you in such a situation?"
The temperature in the room began to drop as a thin layer of ice started to spread across the table top. One of the guards in front of him took a step forward as the other readied his taser. Mohinder's grip on the baby tightened and his whole body tensed, ready to leap across the room at the drop of a hat. Sylar hated himself for slipping like that, and hated even more when he started to reassure the other men in the room that he would calm down as he reined in his abilities.
"If you hate me so much," he began tensely through clenched teeth, "why'd you keep it?"
The geneticist remained tense as his expression hardened, not liking having his child referred to as "it." "Because he's innocent," he told him, running a gentle hand over the baby's curly hair. "You're the monster. He didn't ask to be born, let alone be your son."
"So why are you telling me about this now?"
"You have Peter to thank for that."
Sylar felt his eyebrow tick at the mention of the only surviving Petrelli son. Some how, he wasn't surprised that the other man had a hand in all of this. "He knew?"
Mohinder nodded and the baby squirmed in his arms, not happy that Mohinder's thumb had escaped his grasp. "He told me you were doing better. He suggested I do this as a 'reward' for your 'good behavior.'"
"But you don't think I deserve it."
The geneticist grew silent as he gazed down at the infant that had now begun to suck on his own fingers instead. He placed a gentle kiss onto the baby's ebony curls before speaking. "I don't think you deserve to know anything about him. If I had my way, you'd never have the pleasure to see the miracle that you helped to create. But I know that I can't hide him from you forever. It'd be naive of me to think so."
Sylar felt his throat go bone dry as he allowed his eyes to glance down at the infant. He didn't look like him. He was all Mohinder. If it weren't for the child's fair, sand colored skin he'd demand a blood test on the spot. "Do you love him?"
"More than anything."
It was the truth. Probably an easy one for Mohinder to admit, and Sylar hated himself for feeling jealous of an infant.
"What's his name?"
"Manu."
"Does it mean anything?"
"It means 'wise.'"
He allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. What an appropriate name for a Suresh.
"Can I hold him?"
Mohinder's eyes widened as the color instantly drained from his face. Sylar watched with mild amusement as the geneticist looked at each one of the guards, making sure that all four men were paying close attention to them. The serial killer had to laugh at the gesture. They both knew that Mohinder could easily rip him apart with his bare hands.
"Hold out your arms," he instructed as he got up from his seat.
Sylar did as he was told watching Mohinder carefully as he maneuvered around the table until he was standing right in front of him. He was shocked when he felt himself start to sweat as Mohinder carefully placed the child in his arms. Sylar instinctively began to cradle him as he'd seen many women do with babies. His heart skipped a beat as, once Mohinder's hands were no longer touching Manu, the infant burst into a fit of tears.
"What's wrong? What did I do?"
The four guards charged towards him, inches away from grabbing him, until Mohinder waved them off. "H-he doesn't like strangers."
The words dug deep into him. A stranger. That's all he was to his own child. Sylar felt his heart tighten as Mohinder crouched down next to him, taking Manu's little hand in his and began cooing soothing words in his native tongue to the sobbing infant. He frowned, realizing then that if Mohinder had his way, the two of them wouldn't even speak the same language. His frown only deepened as he looked around at the four men still standing a few inches away from him. This was no way for a man to meet his child.
"Hold him like this," Mohinder began as he adjusted the child into a sitting position on his lap.
Manu sniffled, his cheeks still stained with tears as Mohinder continued to caress his little fingers with the pad of his thumb. The child looked up at him then, lip trembling and eyes wider than Sylar would have thought possible. It was only then that the man realized that those were his eyes, not Mohinder's, gazing back at him.
Sylar smiled down at him. He felt something, something strange inside of him, when he looked into those too familiar eyes. It was like what he felt when he looked at Mohinder, only different. It was sweeter. Stronger.
"He's beautiful," he sighed. He bent down and pressed a kiss onto Manu's cheek and was surprised by how soft the infant's skin was. "Can he speak yet?"
"No," Mohinder sighed, wiping away the tears still silently running down the child's face. Sylar could tell from the hardened look in his eyes that he did not approve of the man holding their child, let alone kissing him. "Not yet. He just babbles a bit."
"What's he going to call you?"
"Father."
Sylar smirked, rolling his eyes at the man's response. "Fine," he chuckled running a careful hand over the boy's, his son's, soft black hair. "You be father, I'll be 'Papa.' Do you like that?"
As if in response, Manu turned and looked him in the eyes before sneezing right in his face. He was definitely a Suresh.
Part 2