Claire returned home, throwing her car keys in a bowl by the door, she was quickly followed by what could only be described as the force of nature that was Noah Grey.
"Daaaaaadddddddy!"
Just like his mother had done earlier the little boy raced up to Sylar, all but knocking him off his feet. Instinctively he scooped the child up in to his arms. He couldn't recall the last time someone was this pleased to see him. Instantly the little boy started chatting away as though he were his best buddy.
"The op...optic" his little face creased as he tried to remember the word correctly, "Optician said that I have to get glasses Dad..."
Innocently he pointed to his eyes
"...Michael said that I'd look like a dork" the boy paused, resting his elbow on Sylars shoulder and placing his chin in his hand, a strangely grown up gesture for one so young.
Soon they were sat around the dinner table eating some simple but surprisingly delicious pasta dish that Claire had rustled up in hardly any time at all. The atmosphere wasn't solemn and oppressive like the family dinners of Sylars childhood had been. Noah giggled as Claire tried to come up with a list of,"Cool people throughout history who wore glasses". He quickly dismissed Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison and John Lennon.
"I had glasses when I was your age"
Sylar piped up and Claire gave him a grateful look across the dinner table. To his astonishment this seemed to placate the boy. Noah was clearly still of the age where his Dad was still the coolest guy on the planet to him.
Claire cleared the table as Noah dragged Sylar up to his room to finish off a story that he had apparently been reading to Noah every night before he had to leave for Japan. The concept of reading a story out loud seemed alien to him at first but he found he could not disappoint the little boy, not when he looked up at him with those big expectant brown eyes that were so much like his own. He had barely cleared a few chapters before Noah was sleeping soundly beside him.
The house was silent but for the occasional clang of crockery as Claire cleared the dishes downstairs. This was the first chance he had been given to take in his surroundings. It was all so surreal. Was this really what he wanted? Looking down at Noah peacefully zzz'ing away it sure as hell felt like it.
But could it really happen? Claire Bennett hates Sylar. She had promised to hate him forever and yet the sleeping little boy before him rather contradicted that. He was very much his father's son, from the tips of his long sprawling toes to the masses of thick brown hair on his head and the curve of his nose but there were hints of Claire too. His skin was naturally tanned and even in his sleep his jaw was set in that determined and defiant manner that was quintessentially,"Claire". He was the perfect mix of the two of them. His powers probably hadn't manifested yet but no doubt he wouldn't need those glasses for too long.