"Was I a cute baby, mama?"
This (and most of his cute little questions, which was at least five a day now) was asked during dinner which was the time in which he ran his little mouth until he fell a sleep in his pasta.
(once-upon-a-time it was 'Uncle' Peter that tucked him in, and some times he did the same for me)
Like many other questions this one and many others always seemed to pop up over and over again.
(examples – 'Are you ever getting married mama?' and 'Is Peter/Mohinder my new daddy?')
And with the magic, which every mother holds in her words and touch, (which I once believed my own mother possessed who now is nothing but ashes) I never ran out of stories for him to treasure for as long as I can hope.
(like his little box filled to the brim with things that in his eyes are gold)
Each single one of them filled with sugar-high happiness (which I hope he stays forever in, both in childhood and adulthood) and all of the evil trimmed away with each lovely word.
But the memories of these mystical stories are all so very different.
-
Five Years Ago – Eight Months after Elle's 'Death'
Every part of the small room (which and I don't blame you if you don't believe me, belonged to one Noah Bennett, may he rest in peace) was now instead of the white it once was, was a dark and brittle black and any kind of fabric was no longer whole but in pieces around the bed.
(and that my friends was the only thing standing after the aftermath of blue that had washed over it)
At that moment I couldn't care less about the millions of damage I had done to the Bennett's (which they say is my true and only name) home. All that I cared about was the small little boy that was resting (and smiling at the crazy mother of his) in my arms.
"Hello, Noah. Welcome to the world, now let's just hope your not as crazy as your mommy."
-
Five Days After
I made it my one and only job (besides loving the crap out of him, which I heard for the first year he will be made of) to be on power watch and it didn't take very long for them to come smiling out.
(smiling that oh-so familiar blue, and afterward I would take each and every god that this child is nothing like his father, all but the eyes)
It didn't take long before he came around and by he I mean the man that almost killed me and Noah both.
(no way in hell was I going to call him his son, never)
"Get. Out."
Everything that he had done (which didn't even make a mark on his black, black heart) was sitting on my tongue and shaking out in my words.
"El, please-"
Before he could get any closer (into the air that was filled with all my fuming rage) a light blue force stopped him in his tracks.
"What the hell?"
It was clear that this force field was coming from the child, (the boy who would not have a father for five years, well, besides Mohinder and Peter) who was smiling up at me protecting his mother from the evil that she once loved.
"That's my boy. Well, honey, looks like your own blood (see not son, never son) knows what you did. Try this again when I'm back in tip-top shake and your ash. Dear."
-
Besides the many Bennett's (who I now call family, most of all my sister-dear, Claire) who were busy fusing over the two of us, the only one to see him first was Mohinder (Sylar doesn't count).
(strange I know, but at least I got to see his pretty face turn up into a smile when he laid his eyes on Noah)
"Oh, El, he's beautiful. Looks just like his mother (and his father but if I say that I'm one dead lizard-man)."
Besides the him owing me his life that was the sweetest thing he ever said to be but I doubt he'll ever say it again after Noah whipped out his force field (and a giggle) which sent his flying right into Sandra and Claire.
(he was once again fight-club after that)
"Good boy, Noah."
-
Present
"You were the cutest baby alive, to your rosy little cheeks all the way to your cute little butt."
"Mom!"
And if anyone says different (which I doubt will ever, and I mean ever, happen) they will get deep fried.