Title: The Devil in the Details.
Rating: PG-13 (Adult themes)
Characters: Angela & Sylar
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Spoilers: All of Season Vol 3
Summary: If it did happen, perhaps it happened like this
Notes: I wrote this before we knew the truth and before Arthur claimed the father.
The Devil in the Details.
He grabbed onto her breasts and forced himself on top of her. Even her screams felt deafening, stuck in the back of her throat. He was stronger than her, overpowering, it was the curse of not having a defensive power, of being one of the weak ones. Her face was wet with tears and soon her throat was too hoarse to scream anymore, not that anyone was home to hear her. He never looked her in the eyes and he seemed to enjoy her cries, never covering her mouth. It only made her feel more helpless.
She pleaded with him not to do it, for she knew what the outcome would be, but it wasn't about sex, it was all about power. The power he could have over her, over her husband. It was payback for everything the Petrellis had ever done to him, what the Company had done to him.
And when it was over and he left her there, alone and bloody, she felt more violated than Maury Parkman had ever made her feel. She didn't talk for two days, even after Linderman healed her, for she had scars he could never heal.
And when the child she and this monster had created, out of darkness and tears, sprung from her womb she cried, cried for having to give up something that had grown inside of her for nine months.
And she cried because she knew she had to give him away. She had to give him away because, just like his father, the child would have the hunger. Angela's dreams confirmed what her brain only feared. So the decision was made for her and she agreed - for Angela Petrelli had given birth to what she had been told was the devil's child .
Even thirty years later when she told him, this child of hers, that she shouldn't have given him up for adoption, it was partly a lie, for she had to. She couldn't have raised him in her home, with Nathan, and soon not with Peter, no - never. And not when she knew that every time she would look at the boy, Angela would see his father in his eyes, looking back at her.
Still, now, after all of it, perhaps enough time had passed, and as she looked into her son's eyes, now so similar to hers - she convinced herself he was her flesh and blood and when she held his hand she felt something. She would make herself love him, care for him, how could she not - he was a part of her. It was an internal struggle. And after, at the moment, she figuratively had no more sons left and so much more was at stake.
Still, for now , he was her weapon. Her weapon of mass destruction. She had sold her soul long ago, and to save the world from her dreams she would do anything. To bring back her Peter, she would do anything. To stop the Butterfly Effect , she would do anything. To get the villains back, she would have to do anything, sacrifice the few to save the many. It was what she was taught, it was the only way - the stakes were too high. Deals with the devil where the only options left.
And even when the girls screams stopped Angela cold in her tracks, she did what she always did - she sucked in her emotion, put on the front and walked away with a cold, hard face - as if it hadn't affected her, when it was obvious it had. Angela had never heard the screams before, because she had only ever been the one doing the screaming.
Thirty years ago, Angela Petrelli gave birth to her second son. Her son Nathan was told the child had died. Angela was never the same. For even after one is healed of their wounds, the real wounds never heal.
"What happened to you, Angela?" She was once asked.
"I'm different, remember, I'm special." She paused. "I just see the world the way it is now and I'm ready to play my part." She would never again be one of the weak ones, that was a promise.