The fear (that always was waiting for me when I shut my eyes) of still seeing his face in my nightmares faded away when for the first time in years I feel into an actual dream rather then my all too familiar nightmares.

(filled to the brim with flying 'Uncle' Peters with judging eyes along with me, Sylar and Noah, one big happy family)

Each morning since the 'I forgive you' scene, I've woken up to a red rose on my night table.

No 'I love yous' or things I might never be ready for, just a 'thank you' each and every single time.

"Your welcome, Gabriel."

-

It's been months since all of this began again (back to seeing his face more then I have in four whole years), months filled with 'daddy' coming for his time with the son he's always wanted and becoming the father that is finally here.

And of course months full of calls that read 'Peter' that for the most part have never been picked up, someday but not today I'll have to answer of those.

('How could you let that monster back in your life? What about us?' 'There has never been a us, not back then and sure as hell not today, Peter' and it all ended in fits of rage and eyes closing tight to run away)

"Sylar."

This would be the ninth Friday that's he's shown up (all the neighbors know is 'shared custody' and that's all they will ever know, well, until someone blows us all to hell) and just like every other time instead of being indifferent, which I try too hard at, my heart jumps into my throat and my fingers hold tightly yo my son.

"Hello, El, every thing between you and Peter okay? (if not he's first on my still growing kill list, which you got taken off of so very long ago)"

(the reason for this question, which is always filled with fire and jealously, is because Peter is my 'boyfriend', well, as far as he knows)

It's like a play (which the thing once called 'us' was back then, all just an act), being preformed over and over again, the same words coming from him and almost always the same answers coming from myself.

"Were fine, Sylar. Noah, baby, go with your father I'll see you on Monday. Have fun."

(cue the over the mother voice that always works on both kids, spouses if I had one, and people of all ages)

"Bye mommy! I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, honey, more then you'll ever know."

-

The first time that this happened, (which to everyones surprise it didn't end in his multiple deaths) distrusting the man that came into my life, who I let in even after all the things that had unfolded between us, and took the one person I loved in the world away from me for three whole days, I was more then a little afraid of what could happen.

"You don't trust me yet do you?"

"No, not yet, but if you bring him back in once piece (and with a brain), maybe that will change."

"You have my word."

(at this time his 'word' meant nothing at all to me but now it finally has at least some meaning)

-

"Elle?"

And the winner of coming at the wrong (so wrong that it's a little funny, but I won't be laughing, not one bit) time ever goes to Peter, or as everyone, meaning me and Noah, calls him 'Uncle' Peter.

"Peter, what are doing here?"

This isn't the first time that he's shown up without warning in our time knowing each other (one- the one thing I hate him for, breaking my heart, two - 'Sylar let her go' Then suddenly caring for me, and three – becoming Noah's Uncle and falling for me) which is measured not in years but in the times I was given the chance of seeing him, which was few until now.

"I've been coming (using a power taken my friend Claude, it's even more funny saying it) here once a week making sure he didn't do anything to Noah. This time I thought I'd check up on you, are you okay, Elle? Has he hurt you?"

('Just in my heart, that one part of me besides my brain, that has been damaged in tiny little pieces for years and not even you, Peter, can put it back together again. Why don't you go see Claire and make her your Humpty-Dumpty?')

"He hasn't done anything to me or Noah, just been there for him. Anyway before you disappear or fly away to go save the world, once again, you should see Noah he misses you."

"Do you?"

"Sometimes, not all the time like Noah. Oh-Peter?"

For one moment (which felt like hundreds and hundreds of them all put into slow motion) I thought that either he or I were going to do the thing that we hadn't done since before Sylar darkened our doorsteps, fall into each other, kiss until our lips were going to fall away or at least find comfort so we could take away the pain that fills us up.

But this time all he did was wrap his arms around me and hugged me like so many other times but this time it was different, more gentle, more loving.

And without knowing it, as he smiled at me with both his lips and scar, he put one of the very small pieces of my heart back together.

And to think I doubted him like I doubted ever forgiving the father of my child, maybe I shouldn't doubt anymore?

"T-thanks, Peter. Oh, as I was saying before your now limited to one phone call per day, it's really hard to tell if the ringing is coming from the phone or inside my own head."

-

Like all the times before (which were still filled with as much fear as the very first time), the many days spent not with Peter but worrying my little head off about the one and only thing I would worry about in my whole life, Noah.

My eyes swept over my smiling and giggling baby boy as he flew into my arms (and I don't mean actual flying, not every one can be Superman), checking every inch of him to make sure he was whole and like each time he was tip-top shape.

(I'll never in my life will get tried of hearing the word 'mom', 'mother' or 'mommy')

"Mommy! Daddy took me see the penguins and the lions and got we got a pony for you! Your favorite!"

The eight-year old girl in me (which I'm good at hiding nowadays) almost sneaked out as I let out a little squeal before I could try and control myself. (all of it thanks to daddy-dearest)

"Thanks, baby, I love it. Now go wash up for dinner, mac & cheese, your favorite."

Just like every single time he let lose a cry of joy (the one that I was holding in until we were alone together without prying eyes) and ran off with cheese on the brain, the one thing he wasn't picky about.

The face belonging to the man I have cursed on more then one occasion was turned up in a smile that I hadn't seen on his face in years ('you took the pain away') as he was leaving until next time when this would all be played out in the very same way.

"Thanks."

"Anything for you, El, anything."

Well, maybe not in the same way.