For the loved
16 October 1982
St Maries Hospital, London, England
Nikola Tesla was one lucky bastard. At least that's what he was thinking as he held his newborn son in his arms, his wife holding their daughter. An hour ago, his two little miracles had been born, screaming with healthy lungs, and Nikola had taken the time to count all their digits. Jessamine Chloe, born 6 pound 3 ounces, 54 centimetres long and Nikola Felix (named after Jonathan's 'mentor' Nikola Tesla), 7 pound 4 ounces, 55 centimetres long.
He still couldn't believe that this was happening to him. Never had he thought that he would be holding his child, nor that he would be married to anyone but Helen Magnus, but here he was, watching as his son surveyed the room around him.
"Jonathan," his wife said, snapping him from his thoughts, "I want to take them home."
Nikola smiled, realizing only one thing was ruining this moment; the fact that he couldn't tell Lillian his real identity. Nor could he ever tell his children, but he had known he wouldn't be able to tell anyone once he and Helen faked his death. All he could say was that the reason he had called his son Nikola was because of his favourite brilliant scientist Tesla.
"I know you do, Lillian. And so do I, but the doctors want to keep you in overnight, which is ridiculous because they are my children and there cannot be anything possibly wrong." He said, sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed. He rocked his son in his arms, watching the bright blue eyes gaze around curiously.
Lillian laughed, leaning over to kiss her husband's cheek.
"No of course not."
The next day, when Nikola and Lillian had arrived home with Nick and Jessamine, the first thing he noticed was the black van parked further down the street. It screamed 'suspicious' and 'surveillance', and he unconsciously let out a snarl, having to hold his fangs back.
"What is it, Jonathan?" Lillian asked, struggling to balance Nick and Jessamine in her arms. Nikola noticed this, and quickly, he was at her side, taking their daughter from her arms.
"Nothing, Lillian." He smiled, pushing the door open for her and Nikola cast one last look at the van, his eyes meeting those of Dana Whitcombe who stood at the door of the vehicle, a warning to stay away shining through his eyes before he retreated into the house.
"What are we going to do boss?" one of her soldiers asked, his hand resting on his pistol but Dana shook her head.
"Leave them alone. Let him make the first mistake, and when he does, then you can move in."
The man nodded, informing his men of the plans before loading back into the van.