Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Mentions of slash, angst, character death, OC, AU, hints at Mpreg

Chapter 4

Sylar soon discovered that children had a tendency to sleep quite often. Manu had fallen fast asleep on their way to the airport and woke up just long enough for them to get past security and find a flight to New York. Of course, once they had settled down to wait, he'd managed to nod off again. At first, Sylar had considered waking the boy and trying to get him to eat something before the flight, but he decided against it. He liked the boy better when he was sleeping. He didn't cry when he slept and it was then that he looked the most like Mohinder. The differences between the two seemed to fall away in the boy's unconscious state.

He had sat there in comfortable silence gently running his fingers through the child's soft black curls, ignoring the quizzical looks thrown his way by passers by. He remembered doing this to Mohinder the few times the man had fallen asleep around him. Right away he had noticed that Manu's hair was much softer than his father's had been, likely because Mohinder had always taken better care of others than he had himself.

Sylar smirked. He may not like the boy, but Manu was starting to grow on him. The more time he spent with the Indian child, the more he felt a connection forming between the two of them. He could see himself loving him, taking care of him, raising him as his own son. He may have been virtually immortal now, but it wouldn't hurt to carry something along to a second generation, to pass on a part of himself and leave a mark on the world.

They boarded their flight without any trouble. Manu had been a bit nervous during take off, but he had calmed down after a while. That was until Sylar noticed the way he started to scratch himself. It was innocent enough at first, a rub at his arm, then his shoulders, then his back. Then the boy started to squirm in his seat, arching his back uncomfortably and rubbing at his legs harshly, leaving angry red streaks along his tanned skin.

Sylar frowned, grabbing his wrists in a vice like grip. "Stop that," he hissed. "You're tearing your skin."

Manu flinched, looking down in embarrassment at his reddened skin. "It itches," he whined, his tone so weak and pathetic that Sylar began to question the child's parentage.

The man groaned as he rolled up Manu's sleeves and saw that the skin was starting to turn bumpy and red. It was clear from the looks of it that Manu was having an allergic reaction to something and he had a feeling it was the clothes he had given him. "Are you allergic to anything?" Sylar asked, rubbing at the boy's arm gently.

"No," Manu shrugged. "I... I don't think so."

"Is there anything wrong?" Sylar looked up to find a flight attendant staring down at them, her expression worried, yet polite.

Sylar flashed her a gentle smile. "My son seems to be having a reaction to his clothes," he explained, patting Manu's arm affectionately. "We've been traveling around for a while and were unable to stop and change into something clean before the flight, and unfortunately, my son, God bless him, accidentally left his carry on at the airport. Do you think it's possible that you might have something he could change into?"

The attendant's expression softened as understanding and sympathy flashed in her eyes. "I'm sure we can manage something," she assured him. Her bright smile turned towards Manu, as she pinched his round cheeks reassuringly. "Don't worry, honey, we'll find something for you."

Once the woman was gone, Manu slumped down in his seat, his face flushed with embarrassment as he glared over at Sylar. "I am not your son," he hissed, pulling his arm away from Sylar's grasp.

The serial killer frowned down at the boy, not at all surprised by his tone. He was a Suresh after all and just like his father. It seemed to be encoded in the family's DNA to make life harder for him. "I told you Manu, we're family now," he reminded the Indian child, running his hands through his hair, making the child stiffen uncomfortably. He squirmed, so Sylar grabbed the boy's hair in a tight fist, causing the boy to hiss in pain. "Now be good."

Sylar relaxed his grip as the flight attendant reappeared with a white buttoned down shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts. "Do you think these will fit your boy?" she asked, bringing the clothes closer so that he could examen them carefully. "One of the mother's on the flight had packed extra clothes for her boys, so she was happy to let you keep these."

He grabbed the clothes and looked at their tags. The materials seemed to be one hundred percent cotton, so he figured it was worth a shot. He thanked the helpful young woman as he gently lifted Manu and steered the child towards the bathrooms. Sylar placed the change of clothes in the Indian child's hands before he pushed him into the first available stall and waited for him to come out. As he stood there, he was surprised when he was approached by another flight attendant. She handed him a small tube of cream and suggested he give it to his son. Sylar smiled at hearing someone else call the boy his son and accepted the cream gratefully.

Manu reappeared seconds later dressed in his new attire with his old clothing neatly folded in his arms. Sylar couldn't help but smirk at the child. Manu was well mannored, neat, and soft spoken. What a polite boy Mohinder had raised.

Sylar took the folded clothes from him before offering him the cream. "Do you want me to apply it for you?" he asked, causing Manu to blush furiously.

"N-no, I can do it."

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Sylar had thought that things would calm down after that, but Manu's stomach seemed to have other plans. After the child had settled back into his seat, he'd begun to nod off, only to wake up looking pale and green. Sylar slid away from him, worried that the child would throw up on him.

"I don't feel well," the boy grumbled as he curled up into a ball, fists rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Sylar mutely handed him an air sickness bag which Manu accepted gratefully. Yet much to his surprise, Manu did not vomit. He merely sat up and began to dry heave, shaking with pain. He gritted his teeth when he noticed that the other passengers were starting to stare at them as Manu began to sob from embarrassment. The killer did his best to hide the child's face, burning red and stained with tears.

"You should have eaten something earlier," Sylar hissed at him, causing the child to cry harder. The boy had pushed away their dinner, claiming that he wasn't hungry, but Sylar now wished that he had forced him to eat.

A male flight attendant appear next to him and sympathetically handed the man a bottle of ginger ale and a packet of crackers. He accepted the items thankfully, but Manu was not nearly as grateful. Sylar offered him the food, but the child merely pushed it away. The serial killer gritted his teeth as he grasped one of the boy's ears between his fingers and twisted. Manu jerked, crying out in pain as Sylar pulled him closer.

"I told you to behave, so do what I say," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for arguments "I might have said I wouldn't kill you, but that there are plenty of things I can do without killing."

Manu sobbed, but did as he was told. He let go of his tight grip on the child's ear, and attempted to pat his shoulder in approval, only to have Manu flinch away in fear. Handling Manu was going to be difficult. The child might have been willing to obey him, but he was also starting to fear him. He didn't want that. He wanted Manu to love him, just as Mohinder was supposed to. It seemed as though he was going to have to figure out a new approach to parenting.