The sound of Shadow's screams filled the delivery room, so shrill Peter feared for the strength of the glass windows.
"Shut the blinds!" he ordered Sylar, who obeyed without thinking. He still seemed to be in a sort of trance, as though the entire occurrence was a dream and not reality.
They had made it into the hospital with minimal interference; Peter had pulled some strings to get them a private room and managed to keep the nurses away. He knew that he was the only one who could deliver the baby – the shadows were already restlessly swirling at the perimeter of the room, and it would only become worse. He didn't want to have to subject that to anyone who couldn't handle the extent of Shadow's powers, limiting the options to Peter and Sylar.
Peter was moving quickly, already divesting Shadow of her clothes as she stood gasping. He had her into a hospital gown and on the table before long, but Sylar didn't seem to have the ability to move. He had seen her belly, skin stretched, and it made him feel hollow.
How could he have not known? Why hadn't someone told him?
Sylar knew the answer, and that made it hurt even more. He hadn't known because he had run away, no one had told him because he hadn't allowed it. Way back when he had first called Peter – wasn't the other man attempting to tell him something when he had hung up? He had missed out on so much by leaving New York, and now . . . . Was he ready to be a father? Hell no. No one could possibly expect him to be prepared for a baby. Shadow – she'd had months to come to terms with the new life she carried. He couldn't possibly be expected to deal with this now, hours before the birth?
An agonized wail jerked him from self-pity, and his eyes were mercilessly pulled back to Shadow. Tears were falling from her eyes; she made no effort to stop their flow. Peter bustled around her, hooking her up to machines that beeped.
Shadow's hand shot out and grasped Peter around the wrist. He paused and looked down at her.
"It hurts, Peter," she whimpered between gasps of air. "It hurts."
"I'm sorry, Shadow." Even Sylar could see Peter's eyes begging her for forgiveness. "I don't want to give you any drugs if it might interfere with the baby's abilities." He placed his hand over hers. "You're strong enough to do this. I believe that, Shadow, with everything I am." Peter gently tugged his arm from her grip and stared across the room at Sylar.
"Get over here."
Sylar blinked. "What?"
"You're the father of this baby, whether you like it or not," Peter said flatly. "You chose to come along, so you're going to help. I need to deliver. You need to keep her calm, keep her breathing." His eyes flashed. "Get over here, now."
Dazed, Sylar took long strides and replaced Peter at Shadow's bedside. He looked over at Peter nervously. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Talk to her," Peter replied, taking notes on Shadow's vitals. "Make her breathe somewhat normally."
Sylar took a deep breath of his own and gazed down at the young woman he had left, stunned by what he saw. She wasn't so young anymore – her face held a maturity that seen on seldom few her age, and he felt a pang. He had made her grow up too fast, even if inadvertently. He swallowed.
"Shadow?" he said her name tentatively. It still tasted sweet on his tongue.
She didn't seem to hear him though, as she breathed heavily and avoided his eyes. He thought he could just come back and fall into this role? Like he had never left in the first place, like she hadn't had him to rely on over the course of this entire pregnancy? She had been shattered, devastated, when he left, and afterward when she knew she would always have a permanent reminder of him in her life.
He said her name again, more desperately. Slowly, she allowed her gaze to shift to his face. He looked exactly as she remembered him – of course. He looked relieved when she turned her face to him. Sylar reached for her hand automatically; she pulled it just out of range. He sighed.
"Okay, I get it. You're mad at me."
"Furious," Shadow corrected him quietly, her voice raw, but he could still hear the undertone of fury. He cringed.
"I deserve that," he admitted. Sylar brushed away the tears still clinging to her cheeks; she flinched away, but he held steady. "I didn't know what else to do, Shadow."
She stared at the ceiling stonily. The darkness danced across the walls, joining above her bed, moving ceaselessly.
Sylar kept talking. "You have to understand – unless it's anger or revenge, I don't have a great comprehension of emotions." He paused to shoot a glare a Peter, one that said if-you-ever-repeat-anything-I'm-saying-you-will-be-in-a-world-of-hurt. "When you – I mean, what you said that night . . . I didn't know how to handle it."
Shadow was curious in spite of herself. What had she said that night that was different? What would make him run away the way he did?
"What are you –?" Her question was interrupted by another contraction, causing a subsequent cry to be wrenched from her throat. Sylar looked on helplessly until the sound died. Shadow coughed and swore.
"That hurts," she muttered hoarsely.
"I bet," Sylar said weakly. He held out his hand. "Here. Next time, just grab and squeeze. As hard as you want." He attempted a half-grin. "I won't break."
A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "No," Shadow said slowly, "I guess you won't." She grabbed his hand, and he hissed in surprise. She was holding on more tightly than he had expected.
His eyes met hers. "You were saying?" he prompted quietly.
Shadow grimaced. "I don't know what you're talking about . . . Sylar." She stumbled over his name, but with minimal difficulty. "I don't remember saying anything that would – would drive you away." She closed her eyes, unable to let him see the fresh tears in her eyes.
She heard him sigh heavily. "No, I don't suppose you would."
Her eyebrows furrowed further.
"You were asleep," Sylar attempted to explain. "That night after we had returned from Peter and Claire's."
"The night I got pregnant."
Sylar's mouth twisted. "Yes, that night. You were talking in your sleep – you do that sometimes – and . . . you said my name. You said my name, and then you said something that made me panic . . ."
Despite her glistening eyes, Shadow forced herself to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were solemn, and he clutched her hand tightly in his. Sylar swallowed thickly. "Shadow . . . you said that you loved me."
Shadow bit her lip. She hadn't known. How could she? "So you left me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"No need to punish me," Sylar said with a small smirk. "Leigha saw to that when she found out." He glanced back at the closed blinds. "She made me come back, you know. I think she knew you were pregnant. Something about her ability." He chuckled quietly. "She actually started to pack my bags for me."
"You left because I love you?"
Sylar's breath hitched when he heard the quiet pain in her words. He barely noted her words, how she had confirmed her feelings towards him. He stroked her face gently. "Yes," he admitted. "I ran away from you . . . I was terrified, Shadow. I don't do connection."
"But you came back," Shadow stated, the tears spilling over.
"Yes, I did." Sylar knelt and pulled her as close to himself as he possibly could. "I care very much for you, Shadow. I don't know when it happened. I don't know how I'm going to handle it, but I won't leave you again." His eyes shifted to her undulating belly. "Either of you."
Shadow cried quietly, letting his words wash over her. She knew she could hold him to his word. His fingers collected her tears and brushed them away.
"You know what I was thinking about on the way here?" he murmured to her quietly. She shook her head. "This song I know. You probably don't remember it, but me . . . anyway. It's called 'With Me.' One of the lyrics says 'I won't let go.' That's my promise to you, Shadow. I won't let you go – ever." He leaned over and kissed her, and she let him. He poured his apology and regret into that kiss, and he knew she could feel it. No one had ever given him anything as special as a child. He wasn't going to give that up.
"Sentimental," Peter remarked dryly from the end of the bed.
Sylar broke the kiss to turn blazing eyes on the other man, but Shadow stopped him.
"Claire left him," she informed Sylar quietly. He nodded curtly and refrained from any scathing remarks.
Shadow abruptly let out a strangled cry and swore.
Unnoticed by any in the room, the swirling dark mass slid down the wall and slowly began to encase Shadow in a gray bubble.
Sylar reached out and swept her sweat-soaked hair out of her face. She grimaced and breathed deeply before gasping.
"Peter," she choked out. "Something's wrong."
Peter immediately checked the monitors, all beeping normally. Her free hand snaked out and grabbed his arm.
"Not the baby," Shadow gasped. "Me."
Sylar swore loudly as the shadows suddenly wrapped fully around the soon-to-be mother, twisting madly. "What the hell?"
"The baby," Peter whispered in horror. "It's causing Shadow pain. Her ability is trying to destroy the source."
"No!" Shadow cried out.
Peter retreated to the end of the bed. "Shadow, you're ready. I need to push, push with everything you have!"
She screamed as she followed his orders. Sylar instinctively leapt onto the hospital bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
"Push, Shadow. I know you're in pain, you don't want anything to happen to our baby, and neither do I. You can't control your ability right now, so you need to push as hard as you can so that she's okay."
Shadow cried out harshly. The mass of shadows thinned as tendrils seeped through the hospital gown and seemingly into her stomach – toward the source of Shadow's agony.
"Push, Shadow!" Peter commanded.
Sylar kissed her temple reverently. "You can do this, Shadow, I know you can. We can't let anything happen to our child. I know how strong you are. Remember how we met? You let the big bad serial killer sleep on your sofa? Remember that? You weren't afraid at all. So strong, so confident in your abilities even though you pushed everyone away. Everyone except me. Push, baby, push with everything you have."
A slight ripple pulsed throughout the room, and the fiercely twisting shadows began to recede on themselves, travelling away from Shadow and toward . . .
"Sylar!" Shadow gasped weakly.
Peter glanced up the bed with wide eyes. "Your ability," he deduced quickly. "You're empathizing with her, Sylar. You've taken on her ability. I don't know what you're doing, but don't stop."
Sylar ground his teeth together. It hurt, trying to take the darkness into himself. But as long as his baby was fine, he could take it.
"Push, Shadow," he reminded her gently.
She screeched as the pain ripped through her. "Sylar, if I ever get the chance I will kill you for this!" Shadow screamed.
He chuckled weakly and held her tighter.
"I've got a head!" Peter exclaimed triumphantly. "Come on, shadow, keep it up! Push!"
"I've got the concept!" she yelled, sagging into Sylar's strong form behind her.
Several minutes passed, filled with Sylar's bated breath and Shadow's piercing screams and Peter's soft panting as more and more of baby Montgomery/Gray emerged. Shadow barely drew breath, her screams continual until Peter gave an encouraging "Last push, Shadow!" and the pain finally subsided. She fell back, thoroughly exhausted as the cries of a new life filled the room, a welcome change from her own screams.
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He would never be used to delivering a living, breathing soul into the world. His dark eyes met Sylar's.
"Would you like to meet your daughter?" he asked softly.
Sylar carefully extracted himself from underneath Shadow's dead weight and went to the end of the bed, looking down into the face of the newborn girl in Peter's arms. The other man seemed to be cradling the baby a bit awkwardly, but Sylar supposed that he wasn't used to holding infants in his arms.
"The umbilical cord?" he muttered to Peter.
"Go ahead."
Manipulating his ability, the cord was clamped and severed cleanly without instruments. Shadow weakly lifted her head from the pillow. "Allison?" she whispered.
Sylar smiled up at her. "Is that her name?"
"Allison Gabrielle Montgomery . . ." Shadow sighed. "Tell me about her."
"She's beautiful," he assured her with a gentle smile. "She has your eyes."
"Good," she murmured before collapsing back to the pillow.
Peter chuckled. "Wore you out, didn't it?"
Shadow stayed quiet. Peter frowned. "Shadow, you didn't go to sleep already, did you? Don't you want to hold your daughter?"
Sylar felt the rhythm of his heart speed up. "Peter, what's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," he quickly replied. "Here, take Allison." He turned his eyes on Sylar. "Very, very carefully, you hear me? Between the two of you, you created one incredibly special child."
"What . . . ?" Sylar began, but Peter carefully transferred the little girl to Sylar's arms before rushing up next to Shadow.
Sylar looked down at – your daughter – the baby girl and shushed her. "Don't worry, Mommy will be fine." He helplessly glanced at the prone body of Shadow. "She has to be, right, baby?
"Right, little Allison?"
A/N: Whoops, cliffhanger again. I swear I didn't mean to. I'm also sorry it's taken so long to get this out. Finals killed my life for a couple weeks, and now I've put myself into a lose-lose life situation that sucks my creativity and everything else. But I'll really, really try to get the next bit up after the new year. After all, you want to know what's up with Shadow, right? And little Allison's ability? Yeah, you know you do.
Let me know with your reviews. If you wish to hold me at gunpoint until I write faster, you're welcome to say so – I'd certainly deserve it. I'll try to shake this cloud of depression that's hanging over my head for a few days, at the very least.
I most definitely do NOT own "With Me" by Sum 41.
