Doesn't Exist


sf_corbin_icon.gif sf_kaylee_icon.gif

Scene Title Doesn't Exist
Synopsis Sometimes the things that don't exist break our hearts the most.
Date October 23, 2020

Kaylee Petrelli's Office

“You have a two o’clock and a five o’clock tomorrow, but you should have enough time between them for a small break to spend with one of the girls, if you wanted to,” Corbin says from his seat in Kaylee Petrelli’s office, his tablet in hand as he goes over her schedule for tomorrow again, making sure that she has time for all of the many things that she needs to do. People with money, sadly, always have more demands on their time than they have time. And as a parent he understood wanting to have at least some of that time with one’s children—

Even if Kaylee’s children were no longer young, now, like his son. They were still children, and she should be able to spend time with them if she wanted to. “You should also have time in the evening, too. It looks like Jac has a fencing lesson, that day, perhaps you could stop in and visit during it.” It was a small suggestion, supporting her teenager’s hobbies.

“Corey’s not yet discovered fencing, thankfully, but he does love pretending his nerf bat is a weapon, so I can imagine he would love to take those lessons.” As always, when he talks about his young son, his face lights up.

There is a small sigh at the suggestion, but it isn’t one of annoyance. Kaylee pauses in her signing of a stack of thank yous to some of the most prestigious donors to the foundation. When the foundation was and she had more time, she would write out each one, now it was a stack of form letters. Then again, she also had more time for the girls.

“Do you think she’d even want me there?” Kaylee asks one parent to another, her voice holding the tone of her struggles. Every parent wants to see their kids become productive adults, but they also want them to stay little forever and be involved in everything they do. “You know, I still remember when her fingers used to wrap around just one of mine, yet, now she’s practically grown and seems to be chomping at the bit to throw herself out of the nest. Brynn is practically there already,” Kaylee sighs out sadly, fiddling with the pen.

Her head shakes slowly, “All I ever wanted was kids, Corbin, and yet… I’ve missed so much of my girls growing up. This is never the parent I ever wanted to be. Then again, I didn’t think I’d be here alone.” Kaylee sighs out that regret again through her nose and turns her attention to signing again.

Pausing again, Kaylee adds, “Put me down to go. I’d like to see how her progress is going.”

“I understand. It’s difficult. I never even wanted kids at all until I met Daphne,” Corbin says quietly, looking apologetic to his boss, but also knowing that this is especially difficult for her. She lost her husband and while some people would say that at least she got rich from it money doesn’t replace what was lost in any way. No, it certainly doesn’t. It doesn’t replace a hole of a child that she could have had with that husband. How old would that baby have been by now? What would they have looked like?

It was something that had haunted Kaylee for so long that she almost always pictured him somewhere in her mind. It was always him, somehow. Perhaps because of the fact that the nephew that she saw growing up, the son of her husband’s brother who had been named after her husband. But the picture of her son had never looked like young Nate. No.

No it had always looked something like…

Like a small boy, with dark blond hair. A little unruly and wild, with a wry smile on his face. Blue eyes.

Like the boy she just thought she saw for a moment, in the corner of her vision as she looked back toward Corbin as he looked down to add the fencing lesson to her schedule. Leaning against the window in her office, looking outside. But he’s no longer there when she turns to look directly.

Her breath catches and a little - something.. excitement? - knives through her. Kaylee’s head snaps that way, eyes searching for the little boy she yearned to lay eyes on. His name on the tip of her tongue, but what was it? Kaylee couldn’t put her finger on it, but it didn’t matter.

There’s no one there, only her wildly active imagination and a desire for something she could never have. Brows furrowed with a continued sense of unease, she turns her focus back to Corbin.

Someone real and present.

“Kids aren't for everyone,” Kaylee finally comments in understanding, “Though my mom was like you, she didn’t want kids and Warren didn’t help.” Her brother had always been a bit wild and her mother had suddenly had to learn to be a mom.

“She is not beyond telling me that too,” Kaylee muses, turning her attention to the paperwork before her… there was always paperwork. “Everytime my birthday comes around, but I changed that when I was born.”

Sliding aside a freshly signed form, Kaylee can’t help but linger on the thought of sons and their gentle eyes and mischievous smile. “Speaking of son- I mean kids - speaking of kids, how is Corey?” She might never have her own, but she could certainly live vicariously through her assistance’s own son.

“A month ago he was convinced he wanted to be a bartender like his mom— then a cop like those who come to the bar— now he’s talking about being a helicopter pilot— I don’t think he’ll want to be a personal assistant anytime soon but…”

Real and present were perhaps a matter of perspective, because as Corbin laughs and starts to talk about his son, his voice begins to drown out in Kaylee’s ears. He’s still talking, sharing little anecdotes and stories, but it’s almost like a soft white noise started to fill her ears, a distraction, as if all she could hear was the movement of feet in the office, of breathing, like a child sleeping, of little fluttering heartbeat that felt like a memory deep down.

What was the name?

It started with a— was it an E? Was it a C?

Was it both? There he was again, in the corner of her eyes, in different clothes this time, popping a M&M in his mouth from a small bag of candy. There’s a friendly smile, a playfulness to his eyes, but also something… sad still. Somehow. Something that seemed longing.

As the image vanished, as the white noise faded, Corbin’s voice boomed back in, “ — he learns new words every day too, we need to keep him away from some of Daph’s regulars. They are teaching him some bad words,” is finished with a laugh.

Eyes squeeze shut as her hearing shifts suddenly as Corbin starts to sound like she’s suddenly behind a door and walking away. Was she getting an ear infection? She opens her mouth wide a couple of times like she’s trying to pop her ears. A finger presses against one ear, but it doesn’t block the sound. She must look ridiculous, but she doesn’t get to think about that. Not really. Because she head it… and she freezes. It’s the sound of a child breathing. It brought with it emotions that seemed out of place and a familiarity she shouldn’t have.

Those sounds were not there, Kaylee knows when she looks to see if Corbin hears it… it was alarming and he might see the look on her face. The confusion and worry. A breath leaves her in a huff of emotion when the child appears again. She knows him, his name… Kaylee can feel the texture of it against her tongue, but even as she tries to look at him directly and he vanishes, it doesn’t solidify into a word or get vocalized. A part of her reaches for him, something deep.

Her son. Oh how she wanted him real. It tore at her heart.

The pen runs across the page, ruining the contract she was signing as Kaylee comes to her feet, looking around where she saw the child. There was no child. Kaylee tries to convince herself of that. One hand rests on the desk as she leans on it, the other pressed against her forehead. What was wrong with her?!?

“I think… something from breakfast isn’t agreeing with me,” Kaylee says breathless from the experience.

Corbin stands as his boss does, moving forward to catch the contract before it falls off her desk and checking to see that, yes, he’ll have to get that redone for her, but— “Do you need me to cancel the rest of your day?” She very rarely actually took personal time off, he knew that, throwing herself into the work and the foundation. He tried to make sure she always had enough time to rest and sleep and time between appointments in case traffic or other situations made her late, but—

It was rare he even suggested just cancelling everything.

But it was also rare that she complained about something not agreeing with her, or zoned out, or ruined a contract like that.

“There’s nothing terribly pressing that can’t be rescheduled. And I can probably handle the Travis meeting personally. He doesn’t need to see you to sign a check.”

Running a hand over her face, Kaylee is ready to say no, as there was a lot of work and she preferred to be there to hand over the checks…. but when her hand comes away damp with a faint smudge of eye makeup, the woman is startled. No wonder he made the suggestion and her cheeks flush lightly with her sudden sense of self-consciousness. Last thing she needed was people to think she was crazy… especially her step sons.

“I… I think that’s a good idea,” Kaylee says, after clearing her throat. Straightening and tugging her suit jacket straight, she gives her assistant a faint smile. “I’ve been running myself ragged trying to ensure that this fundraiser is a success. We both have. So once you see Travis, take the day and spend it with Carl… I mean Corey.” Kaylee gives a little shake of her head in confusion and flashes Corbin an apologetic and embarrassed smile. “I’ve been keeping you too much and I think you could use some time too, hmm?”

Kaylee looks at the stack of papers on the desk in front of her, though her mind is wandering to the face of that little boy and the sound of a tiny heartbeat. So familiar… like a sense of deja-vu.

“Maybe have the car brought around, please? And let Mr. Barazani know?” Something was telling Kaylee that she shouldn't even attempt driving. “Maybe a few hours of rest will do me good.”

“Don’t worry about it. I will reschedule anything that I can’t handle, and you’re right, I could use some time off too,” Corbin admits, with a smile, not correcting her as she had already corrected herself. She must be tired to get the name wrong, considering his son was named after him, and Corey was just the nickname they used so they didn’t call him Junior or something silly like that. He had been embarrassed when Daphne suggested they give him his name, but— well— it was one of those things people did, so Kaylee knew he had also been honored by it too.

As he steps away to start calling the driver and put away her schedule, Kaylee’s eyes drift toward the wide windows again and she catches the hint of a reflection rather than the outdoors. What she saw in the reflection wasn’t her. It was someone else— someone who looked like her, but— wasn’t? But the room behind her was what really held her attention more than the not-her reflection. Instead of her office, it was a bedroom. A child’s room.

A child that didn’t exist.

A boy whose name still hung on her tongue, like a memory of a dream that started to fade as she looked on.


There are no words, not a sound from Kaylee as she is quick to move to the window. Seeing the boy beyond it, she presses a hand against the widow like she could push through it and touch him. But the glass is merely cold under her hands. The room felt so familiar with it’s dragon and dinosaur theme.

Afraid to blink, eyes start to water trying to see every detail, even tho’ each thought fades as soon as she has it. The red reticulated dragon was a favorite, but she didn’t know why. He wanted the dark blue walls so he felt like he lived in a cave like…

Kaylee blinks and it's gone, only the bright midmorning lights. Both hands hit the glass with a gasp of despair and a softly spoken, “No! Bring him back!

But It was too late, only a pair of sparrows flitting by the window off to some unknown destination. Hands softly squeak down the window before falling to her sides limply. Kaylee desperately tries to recall details of what she saw, but it had all but faded, except for that adorable smiling face and the terrible sensation of loss that clawed at her stomach, spilling down her cheeks, over someone that didn’t and wouldn't ever exist.

A child of her own flesh and body.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License