A/N: I am terribly in love with Heroes. It started out as a mere amusement to a nerdy, I-know-everything (even the fake characters backgrounds, ages, and significant others). This was the love child of an overactive imagination and reading too many fanfictions too late at night. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own or take credit for the creation of Heroes. This is meant for entertainment use only.
Warnings: Some language, insinuations for incest and rape, and one night stands. PeterxClaire; ClairexSylar
The Boy with Black Hair
Seated at his desk, the curly haired man huffed a sigh. Outside the wooden-framed window, he could smell the air of New Orleans. His computer hummed contently at his side, cursor still blinking over his college assignment on the controversy surrounding specials.
In his dark hand, he held a picture.
Last time he'd seen Claire was last year's Christmas photo: a mass of blonde hair curled into perfection atop a flawless face and sparkling green eyes. Her smile was brilliant. The only surprising thing about her unchanging looks was the baby boy settled on her lap.
After the incident in Central Park, Claire Bennet had vanished from the radar. She had only reappeared when the law was amended to cover specials, albeit with some restrictions; those included a regular five-month check in with the EHHCA a.k.a. the Evolved Human Help and Control Administration. She had even taken up several recruiting gigs from her monthly paycheck. Seven years had passed in the blink of an eye.
Micah shook his head, rolling his eyes at the overly fluffy message on the bottom of the card: -Micah you Rebel! Love always, from Claire and Noah!
The University life was great. Too bad that technology entranced him more than parties (where the girls basically stripped to nothing and the guys got stoned) down on the beaches. His roommate was shocked at his discontent with a social life. Micah thought he had one. Two nights ago, while following an email thread on server IPs from Mohinder to Matt discussing Matty, Molly, and the prospects of raising special children Claire's name had popped up.
Mohinder had been coy about the whole issue. His message was: I spoke with Claire and little Noah last week. Have you heard anything?
Matt's reply had been: Gotta be Sylar's. Remember how he forced her on college campus?
Micah sighed. He shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't. Touching the computer's screen, he sent a text.