(no subject)
Title: Memories and Dust (6/?)
Fandom: Heroes (Future, AU-ish)
Characters: Matt/Mohinder, Molly, Jacob
Rating: R for sexual situations (woo!)
Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing, and make no money off this either.
Summary:“Oh man. Tell me we haven’t just adopted the next Ted Sprague.”
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been laid up in bed all week with a fever and a nasty cough. Hopefully it was worth waiting for?
Previous Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five
Chapter Six: Distractions
April 24, 2021
Los Angeles, CA
Mohinder watched from afar as Matt talked with Jacob. Though distance and the noise of the waves made it impossible for him to hear the actual conversation, it seemed like Matt had talked him out of whatever momentary despair he'd been caught in.
Beside him, Molly dug her toes in the sand. “Have you noticed that the only time we travel somewhere, it’s to either save a life or to bury someone?” She flicked some sand into the air into the air and added, "Or both."
Mohinder smiled, though his daughter's observation stung. "Where did that come from?" he asked. Molly's habit of asking uncomfortable questions had not abated since she was eight years old, and had never stopped catching Mohinder off guard.
"I'm just thinking out loud." Catching sight of his face, she smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. "I see what you're doing. Stop thinking you've scarred me for life because you never took me to Disneyworld."
Mohinder laughed out loud. "You know me too well."
“Besides," Molly said. "Peter would say that being a hero doesn’t allow much time for vacations.”
“Peter has a messiah complex,” Mohinder replied.
“Ya think?” Molly said. Mohinder nearly laughed again; it was Matt's words and tone coming out of her mouth.
Molly picked up a small twig and started doodling in the sand. "I have to say, I feel kinda bad for Jacob. Even if he's a snot. He has no idea what he’s getting into by coming with us.”
Mohinder knew what she meant; they were bringing him into their world, which from an outsider's perspective could be a little... surreal. It still caught Mohinder off guard sometimes.
“I know what you mean," he told Molly. "But we’re all going into this blind. After all, we are taking in a boy who apparently has the capacity to-”
A sudden shout of alarm from the the surf interrupted him. Molly was on her feet in a moment, Mohinder following a second later. They both ran towards the spot where Matt and Jacob stood. The boy's fists were clenched tightly, and he stared at Matt in anger and fear.
“I can’t believe this!” Jacob was shouting. “Get out of my head, you freak!”
“Hey!” Molly said angrily. “Don’t call him a freak.”
“He’s talking to me in my brain," he yelled, and Mohinder really hoped that none of the other funeral goers were within hearing distance. “That makes him a freak.”
“Jacob,” Matt said. “I can explain-”
“I don’t care! Get away from me!” He turned, to flee maybe. In doing so, he ran right into Mohinder.
The boy was obviously functioning on a pure fight-or-flight instinct now. Mohinder put his hands on Jacob’s shoulders, trying to either calm him down or restrain him, he wasn’t sure which. Jacob immediately put two hands on his chest and shoved him, hard. There was a brief flash of heat - far too much to just be from Jacob’s skin. Then an even briefer sensation of stinging pain, followed by numbness. Then Mohinder was falling backwards and Jacob was rushing past him.
Hitting the ground knocked the wind out of him, and Mohinder was too stunned to do anything besides lay there for a moment and try and get his breath back. Then there was a strong hand on his shoulder. Matt.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so?” Why had that come out as a question? Mohinder tried to sit up, and - “Ow.”
His chest hurt.
“What the hell?” Matt said, looking down. Mohinder followed his gaze, ignoring the pain that the movement caused.
His shirt was charred in the shape of two hand prints. At Matt’s cautious touch, a piece crumbled into ash.
Matt unbuttoned the rest of the shirt, tugging it open over Mohinder’s protests. The skin underneath the shirt was an angry red. Blisters were appearing in places, and the hair was singed.
“Holy shit.”
Molly’s knelt down next to them. “What happened?” She looked down at Mohinder’s chest. “Oh my god.”
“It’s fine,” Mohinder said to both of them. “I’m all right.”
But Matt wasn’t listening to him. He was glaring at where Jacob stood, a dozen feet away. The teenager immediately took a step back from the force of it, fear evident in his face.
“I didn’t -” He stuttered out. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to-”
“The hell you weren’t,” Molly said, her glare mirroring her father’s.
“No!” Jacob said, stumbling back another step.
Matt stood to follow him, and Mohinder grabbed his arm. “Stop it. It was an accident.”
“You don’t know that.” Molly said. And everyone thought Matt was the protective one in the family.
“Matt,” Mohinder said, urgently wanting to defuse the situation. “Can you-”
Matt looked back at the boy. Mohinder was relieved when he saw most of the anger drain out of his partner’s face.
“He’s right,” Matt said softly. “It was an accident.”
There was a long moment. Mohinder felt the tension go out of the air. He grabbed Matt’s hand and tugged on it, and the other man started to help him up.
“Wait. Did you just read my mind again?” Jacob asked.
“Yes,” Matt said, his tone completely unapologetic as he helped Mohinder up. “I needed to know.
But I don’t make a habit of it with people that I trust.”
Do you trust him? Mohinder asked silently.
Not exactly. But let’s talk about it later.
***
"Later" was actually at about eleven. Jacob was at the Morrison’s house again. Molly was downstairs in the hotel bar. She'd said she wanted to do a bit of people watching, and work on some overdue field reports for the Company.
"I think she wants some alone time," Mohinder had said. "To process everything that happened today."
"No shit, Sherlock," Matt replied. "I thought I was the detective here."
Mohinder was in the bathroom of their hotel room, reapplying the bandages on his chest. The two burns were roughly circular, placed just below his collarbones. There was no doubt that it had been where Jacob had laid his palms.
“Do you want some help?” Matt asked, coming to stand in the door.
“Please," Mohinder said, giving up. "Doing this in the mirror isn’t easy.”
Mohinder gave him the tape and bandages, and leaned against the sink.
“Still hurt?” Matt asked, putting one of the gauze pads against his skin.
Mohinder shrugged, then winced. “It stings. Not bad, though.”
“Could have been worse,” Matt agreed. "Hold that while I tape it."
It was, Mohinder had realized, more like a chemical burn. There hadn’t been nearly enough heat to cause a burn like this. Which meant that Jacob wasn’t pyrokinetic. There was something else at work.
Finished with the bandages, Matt tossed the supplies on the sink and turned to leave. Mohinder caught him on the arm and spun him back around. He tugged Matt in between his legs, and angled his face up for a long, slow kiss.
“Mmmm,” Matt hummed into the kiss. “What’s that for?”
“Wanted to get your attention.”
“Uh, it worked.”
“Good.” Mohinder leaned back away from Matt, who was looking at him curiously. “I want to talk.”
The disappointment on Matt’s face was almost comical. “That’s not fair at all.”
“It worked, didn’t it?"
"Still. That's just cruel."
Mohinder wasn't about to be distracted by Matt's pouting, however endearing it was. "Tell me what you saw when you read Jacob’s mind.”
The pout disappeared. Instead, Matt looked nervous, almost cornered. “It’s not… It was private. Bad enough that I saw it.”
“Matt. I have two burns on my chest from his hands. But I didn’t see a flame, and they don’t feel like normal burns. I’ve worked with enough pyrokinetics to know that Jacob isn’t one. What did you see?”
Matt avoided looked at him, gaze darting around the room. After a long pause, he said, “Jacob was with Janice when she died. He was in the car, asleep. He wasn’t hurt in the crash, but Janice…” Mohinder watched as Matt swallowed convulsively. “She was pretty messed up. She might have been killed by the impact.”
Mohinder winced in sympathy. He knew, thanks to Sanjog's long ago guidance, what it was like to watch a parent die violently.
"Jacob got her out of the car. Burned away both their seat belts like he did with your shirt, and pulled her onto the sidewalk. He tried to do CPR, but he was freaking out and he burned her. Like with you, but worse.”
“How much worse?”
“Mohinder-”
“Show me!”
Matt sent him an image, taken directly from Jacob’s memory. It was ugly, there was no other word for it. Janice - at least, he assumed it was her; the blood and bruising on her face made it hard to tell - was on her back on the ground. Her chest looked like it had been crushed by the steering column, and Mohinder diagnosed multiple broken ribs. Probably internal bleeding as well.
And in the midst of all of that, just above her heart, there was a wide circle of burnt clothing and charred flesh.
“He’s half-convinced that he killed her," Matt said. "I’m not completely sure he didn’t. Whatever it was, though, it was an accident. Same with what happened to you.”
Mohinder looked back down at the bandages covering his chest. “So he panics, and then he burns things. That's a little worrying.”
Matt leaned against the opposite wall. “Oh man. Tell me we haven’t just adopted the next Ted Sprague.”
“No,” Mohinder said. “I don't think it's radiation. There wasn’t much heat, I told you. These look and feel more like chemical burns.”
Matt’s brow furrowed. “Chemical burns? How do you figure that?”
Mohinder looked at him severely. “I work in lab, Matthew. Accidents happen, and I’ve spilled my share of nasty things on myself.”
“So Jacob can, what? Emit acid from his fingers or something?”
Mohinder shrugged, though he was privately convinced it was much more complicated. “I won’t know until I get him to the testing facilities in New York. Micah and I will know more once we’re able to test him.”
Matt looked troubled at the mention of New York and the labs. Mohinder raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.
“You are going to let us test him, aren’t you?" Mohinder said, thinking of Matt's stubborn refusal to get a paternity test. "Because with what that future Hiro told us, we need to teach Jacob to control his powers before-”
Matt held up his hands. “No, no. I’m right with you on that. Jacob controlling his power is definitely a good thing. Especially since he can, you know, destroy the world in the future or something. I was thinking of something else.”
Mohinder got down from the sink and stood next to Matt. “What is it?”
Matt dropped his gaze, suddenly studying the bathroom floor. “Micah.”
Mohinder cocked his head. Micah? He knew that Matt had always been somewhat reserved around Molly’s best friend, but he didn’t know why mentioning the young man would bring that worried frown to Matt’s face. “I’m not following you.”
Matt ran a hand through his graying hair. “It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure if I can.”
“You brought it up," Mohinder pointed out. "You might as well try.”
***
It was hard to explain, Matt thought, because the English language didn’t have the words to describe human thought in its raw form.
How could Matt say that every person’s mind was like a different structure? Some were orderly and neat, smoothly linear; some were a chaotic shambles, shooting off in all directions. And sometimes there was no structure at all - a mind like a wide field of grass, or an open, running river. None of that made any sense once you tried to make another person understand. But the fact remained that each person's mind was as unique as their fingerprints.
Mohinder’s thoughts were complicated but ordered, like a continually unfolding flower with hundreds of petals. His inner voice was soft as old suede, comfortable and familiar after all these years. Molly’s thoughts, on the other hand, were bright, streaking in vivid primary colors across her consciousness, and they rang clear as bells.
When Matt had stepped into Jacob’s mind, he’d been confronted by a mind still in raw grief. His thoughts were brittle, metallic with anger and sharp with desperate sadness. It had affected Matt deeply - not only because he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Jacob, but because the shape and feel of his thoughts were familiar.
***
“Jacob’s mind reminded me of Micah,” Matt told him.
Mohinder opened his mouth to say something, but Matt interrupted him.
“And it’s not that I don’t like Micah, or trust him. He loves Molly more than anything, and that’s all I need to know. And I know he’s had the shittiest luck of just about anyone, so if anyone had the right to be pissed at the world, it’d be him. But the thing is, I don’t like reading his mind. It hurts. It’s full of sharp corners and shadows and it’s cold.”
Mohinder stood directly in front of him, arms still crossed. “What are you trying to say?”
Matt suddenly slid down the wall to the bathroom floor. "Crap. I don't know. It's been a long, weird, shitty day. I buried my ex-wife. I met her son, who's possibly the Antichrist or something, and he thinks I'm a freak."
Mohinder knelt down next to Matt, putting a hand on his knee. "I think you handled it pretty well, considering."
Matt tilted his hand against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe. I'm not convinced. And now I'm worried that Jacob is going to end up like Micah."
Mohinder shook his head, still trying to sort out what Matt was going on about. "I'm still not sure how that's a bad thing. You said that you trusted him--"
"I do. But god, that kid is so angry. He's hurting all the time, even after all these years. I'm just glad he's on our side, because I know what happens to the other guys."
Mohinder nodded. There was a reason that he'd assigned Micah to doing lab work and research for the Company, rather than as a field operative. Molly had told him what had happened in New Orleans three years ago; she'd helped Micah and Damon infiltrate some kind of drug ring, and had seen her best friend kill two men without blinking an eye. At one time, this would have made Micah an asset as an operative for the Company.
Things had changed, though. That wasn't what the Company stood for anymore. Mohinder had brought Micah on to help first in the lab, and then with training those with newly manifested powers. He had a gift for working with others, coaxing them to get the most from their new found abilities. He definitely didn't let Micah go on field assignments anymore.
"Maybe it'll be a good thing for Micah to work with Jacob," Mohinder said, squeezing Matt's knee. "He's going to understand what Jacob is going through better than either of us, after all. And maybe in helping Jacob, Micah will help himself."
Matt looked at him. "You think?"
"It's possible. I'm going to choose to be optimistic on this."
Matt grinned lopsidedly. "Don't you always?"
"And look where it's gotten me," Mohinder said, leaning forward to brush his lips with Matt's. "I'd say it's worked out pretty well."
"Except for those times when it didn't--"
Mohinder nipped at Matt's bottom lip, kissing him soundly in an effort to shut him up.
That trick doesn't work so well on me, you know, Matt thought at him. He ran a hand up Mohinder's bare back and pulled him a little closer.
Have to try harder to shut you up, won't I? He pushed Matt against the wall and straddled him, smiling as he did. This was an old game between the two of them, to see who could drive the other to distraction first.
"Chest okay?" Mat asked. He was sort of breathless, Mohinder noted happily.
"I'll be fine," he said, rocking slightly against Matt's hips. "Unless you have something drastic planned."
"Nothing drastic," Matt replied, grinning. His hands were around Mohinder's hips, thumbs rubbing along the sharp curve of the bone. "Though it's been a while since we did it on a bathroom floor," he added thoughtfully.
Mohinder snorted. "And they say romance is dead."
Matt moved a hand over the front of Mohinder's pants, palming him through the thin material. "I don't hear you complaining."
Mohinder shut his eyes at the teasing touch, feeling blood suddenly rush through his veins. He shifted his weight, canting his hips forward into the contact. "You're still clothed. And you're not kissing me. There's two for you."
Bitch, bitch, bitch, Matt thought at him as he leaned forward to kiss him.
A sudden, tinny ringing made him pause. It was Mohinder's cell phone, on the sink. He started to reach for it, but Matt grabbed his hand.
"God, Mohinder. Just let it go to voicemail."
"What if it's work?"
"Exactly my point."
Mohinder was ready to object, but it was hard to think of a coherent argument. Matt was doing something rather compelling to Mohinder's earlobe with his teeth, and attempting to unfasten his pants at the same time. So Mohinder let it ring.
But when it buzzed again, alerting him there was a new message on his voicemail, he broke out of Matt's embrace and grabbed it. Matt groaned in frustration.
"Workaholic."
"Pots and kettles, Matt," he said, bringing up the display. He frowned. "It was Molly."
Matt sat up a little straighter, watching with a worried look as Mohinder accessed his inbox.
"Hey guys, it's me. I was going to come up, but figured you guys probably wanted some, you know, alone time. Figured it was better to call instead of look. No offense, but I don't need to see that. EW. Anyway, that weird Delores lady called, the one that was taking care of Jacob. I don't know why she called me instead of you, other than that she's a nutcase. Anyway, Jacob ran away. I'm going to get him now. He's fine, and didn't get too far. I thought it'd be better if I went instead of either of you, since I'm the only one he's not completely freaked out by.
Hopefully I didn't ruin the mood. Oh, that's gross. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."
Mohinder shut the phone. There was a moment of silence. "She definitely ruined the mood, didn't she?"
"Yep."
Oh, the joys of parenting.
Next part: Capacity for the Impossible
Fandom: Heroes (Future, AU-ish)
Characters: Matt/Mohinder, Molly, Jacob
Rating: R for sexual situations (woo!)
Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing, and make no money off this either.
Summary:“Oh man. Tell me we haven’t just adopted the next Ted Sprague.”
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been laid up in bed all week with a fever and a nasty cough. Hopefully it was worth waiting for?
Previous Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five
Chapter Six: Distractions
April 24, 2021
Los Angeles, CA
Mohinder watched from afar as Matt talked with Jacob. Though distance and the noise of the waves made it impossible for him to hear the actual conversation, it seemed like Matt had talked him out of whatever momentary despair he'd been caught in.
Beside him, Molly dug her toes in the sand. “Have you noticed that the only time we travel somewhere, it’s to either save a life or to bury someone?” She flicked some sand into the air into the air and added, "Or both."
Mohinder smiled, though his daughter's observation stung. "Where did that come from?" he asked. Molly's habit of asking uncomfortable questions had not abated since she was eight years old, and had never stopped catching Mohinder off guard.
"I'm just thinking out loud." Catching sight of his face, she smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. "I see what you're doing. Stop thinking you've scarred me for life because you never took me to Disneyworld."
Mohinder laughed out loud. "You know me too well."
“Besides," Molly said. "Peter would say that being a hero doesn’t allow much time for vacations.”
“Peter has a messiah complex,” Mohinder replied.
“Ya think?” Molly said. Mohinder nearly laughed again; it was Matt's words and tone coming out of her mouth.
Molly picked up a small twig and started doodling in the sand. "I have to say, I feel kinda bad for Jacob. Even if he's a snot. He has no idea what he’s getting into by coming with us.”
Mohinder knew what she meant; they were bringing him into their world, which from an outsider's perspective could be a little... surreal. It still caught Mohinder off guard sometimes.
“I know what you mean," he told Molly. "But we’re all going into this blind. After all, we are taking in a boy who apparently has the capacity to-”
A sudden shout of alarm from the the surf interrupted him. Molly was on her feet in a moment, Mohinder following a second later. They both ran towards the spot where Matt and Jacob stood. The boy's fists were clenched tightly, and he stared at Matt in anger and fear.
“I can’t believe this!” Jacob was shouting. “Get out of my head, you freak!”
“Hey!” Molly said angrily. “Don’t call him a freak.”
“He’s talking to me in my brain," he yelled, and Mohinder really hoped that none of the other funeral goers were within hearing distance. “That makes him a freak.”
“Jacob,” Matt said. “I can explain-”
“I don’t care! Get away from me!” He turned, to flee maybe. In doing so, he ran right into Mohinder.
The boy was obviously functioning on a pure fight-or-flight instinct now. Mohinder put his hands on Jacob’s shoulders, trying to either calm him down or restrain him, he wasn’t sure which. Jacob immediately put two hands on his chest and shoved him, hard. There was a brief flash of heat - far too much to just be from Jacob’s skin. Then an even briefer sensation of stinging pain, followed by numbness. Then Mohinder was falling backwards and Jacob was rushing past him.
Hitting the ground knocked the wind out of him, and Mohinder was too stunned to do anything besides lay there for a moment and try and get his breath back. Then there was a strong hand on his shoulder. Matt.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so?” Why had that come out as a question? Mohinder tried to sit up, and - “Ow.”
His chest hurt.
“What the hell?” Matt said, looking down. Mohinder followed his gaze, ignoring the pain that the movement caused.
His shirt was charred in the shape of two hand prints. At Matt’s cautious touch, a piece crumbled into ash.
Matt unbuttoned the rest of the shirt, tugging it open over Mohinder’s protests. The skin underneath the shirt was an angry red. Blisters were appearing in places, and the hair was singed.
“Holy shit.”
Molly’s knelt down next to them. “What happened?” She looked down at Mohinder’s chest. “Oh my god.”
“It’s fine,” Mohinder said to both of them. “I’m all right.”
But Matt wasn’t listening to him. He was glaring at where Jacob stood, a dozen feet away. The teenager immediately took a step back from the force of it, fear evident in his face.
“I didn’t -” He stuttered out. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to-”
“The hell you weren’t,” Molly said, her glare mirroring her father’s.
“No!” Jacob said, stumbling back another step.
Matt stood to follow him, and Mohinder grabbed his arm. “Stop it. It was an accident.”
“You don’t know that.” Molly said. And everyone thought Matt was the protective one in the family.
“Matt,” Mohinder said, urgently wanting to defuse the situation. “Can you-”
Matt looked back at the boy. Mohinder was relieved when he saw most of the anger drain out of his partner’s face.
“He’s right,” Matt said softly. “It was an accident.”
There was a long moment. Mohinder felt the tension go out of the air. He grabbed Matt’s hand and tugged on it, and the other man started to help him up.
“Wait. Did you just read my mind again?” Jacob asked.
“Yes,” Matt said, his tone completely unapologetic as he helped Mohinder up. “I needed to know.
But I don’t make a habit of it with people that I trust.”
Do you trust him? Mohinder asked silently.
Not exactly. But let’s talk about it later.
***
"Later" was actually at about eleven. Jacob was at the Morrison’s house again. Molly was downstairs in the hotel bar. She'd said she wanted to do a bit of people watching, and work on some overdue field reports for the Company.
"I think she wants some alone time," Mohinder had said. "To process everything that happened today."
"No shit, Sherlock," Matt replied. "I thought I was the detective here."
Mohinder was in the bathroom of their hotel room, reapplying the bandages on his chest. The two burns were roughly circular, placed just below his collarbones. There was no doubt that it had been where Jacob had laid his palms.
“Do you want some help?” Matt asked, coming to stand in the door.
“Please," Mohinder said, giving up. "Doing this in the mirror isn’t easy.”
Mohinder gave him the tape and bandages, and leaned against the sink.
“Still hurt?” Matt asked, putting one of the gauze pads against his skin.
Mohinder shrugged, then winced. “It stings. Not bad, though.”
“Could have been worse,” Matt agreed. "Hold that while I tape it."
It was, Mohinder had realized, more like a chemical burn. There hadn’t been nearly enough heat to cause a burn like this. Which meant that Jacob wasn’t pyrokinetic. There was something else at work.
Finished with the bandages, Matt tossed the supplies on the sink and turned to leave. Mohinder caught him on the arm and spun him back around. He tugged Matt in between his legs, and angled his face up for a long, slow kiss.
“Mmmm,” Matt hummed into the kiss. “What’s that for?”
“Wanted to get your attention.”
“Uh, it worked.”
“Good.” Mohinder leaned back away from Matt, who was looking at him curiously. “I want to talk.”
The disappointment on Matt’s face was almost comical. “That’s not fair at all.”
“It worked, didn’t it?"
"Still. That's just cruel."
Mohinder wasn't about to be distracted by Matt's pouting, however endearing it was. "Tell me what you saw when you read Jacob’s mind.”
The pout disappeared. Instead, Matt looked nervous, almost cornered. “It’s not… It was private. Bad enough that I saw it.”
“Matt. I have two burns on my chest from his hands. But I didn’t see a flame, and they don’t feel like normal burns. I’ve worked with enough pyrokinetics to know that Jacob isn’t one. What did you see?”
Matt avoided looked at him, gaze darting around the room. After a long pause, he said, “Jacob was with Janice when she died. He was in the car, asleep. He wasn’t hurt in the crash, but Janice…” Mohinder watched as Matt swallowed convulsively. “She was pretty messed up. She might have been killed by the impact.”
Mohinder winced in sympathy. He knew, thanks to Sanjog's long ago guidance, what it was like to watch a parent die violently.
"Jacob got her out of the car. Burned away both their seat belts like he did with your shirt, and pulled her onto the sidewalk. He tried to do CPR, but he was freaking out and he burned her. Like with you, but worse.”
“How much worse?”
“Mohinder-”
“Show me!”
Matt sent him an image, taken directly from Jacob’s memory. It was ugly, there was no other word for it. Janice - at least, he assumed it was her; the blood and bruising on her face made it hard to tell - was on her back on the ground. Her chest looked like it had been crushed by the steering column, and Mohinder diagnosed multiple broken ribs. Probably internal bleeding as well.
And in the midst of all of that, just above her heart, there was a wide circle of burnt clothing and charred flesh.
“He’s half-convinced that he killed her," Matt said. "I’m not completely sure he didn’t. Whatever it was, though, it was an accident. Same with what happened to you.”
Mohinder looked back down at the bandages covering his chest. “So he panics, and then he burns things. That's a little worrying.”
Matt leaned against the opposite wall. “Oh man. Tell me we haven’t just adopted the next Ted Sprague.”
“No,” Mohinder said. “I don't think it's radiation. There wasn’t much heat, I told you. These look and feel more like chemical burns.”
Matt’s brow furrowed. “Chemical burns? How do you figure that?”
Mohinder looked at him severely. “I work in lab, Matthew. Accidents happen, and I’ve spilled my share of nasty things on myself.”
“So Jacob can, what? Emit acid from his fingers or something?”
Mohinder shrugged, though he was privately convinced it was much more complicated. “I won’t know until I get him to the testing facilities in New York. Micah and I will know more once we’re able to test him.”
Matt looked troubled at the mention of New York and the labs. Mohinder raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.
“You are going to let us test him, aren’t you?" Mohinder said, thinking of Matt's stubborn refusal to get a paternity test. "Because with what that future Hiro told us, we need to teach Jacob to control his powers before-”
Matt held up his hands. “No, no. I’m right with you on that. Jacob controlling his power is definitely a good thing. Especially since he can, you know, destroy the world in the future or something. I was thinking of something else.”
Mohinder got down from the sink and stood next to Matt. “What is it?”
Matt dropped his gaze, suddenly studying the bathroom floor. “Micah.”
Mohinder cocked his head. Micah? He knew that Matt had always been somewhat reserved around Molly’s best friend, but he didn’t know why mentioning the young man would bring that worried frown to Matt’s face. “I’m not following you.”
Matt ran a hand through his graying hair. “It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure if I can.”
“You brought it up," Mohinder pointed out. "You might as well try.”
***
It was hard to explain, Matt thought, because the English language didn’t have the words to describe human thought in its raw form.
How could Matt say that every person’s mind was like a different structure? Some were orderly and neat, smoothly linear; some were a chaotic shambles, shooting off in all directions. And sometimes there was no structure at all - a mind like a wide field of grass, or an open, running river. None of that made any sense once you tried to make another person understand. But the fact remained that each person's mind was as unique as their fingerprints.
Mohinder’s thoughts were complicated but ordered, like a continually unfolding flower with hundreds of petals. His inner voice was soft as old suede, comfortable and familiar after all these years. Molly’s thoughts, on the other hand, were bright, streaking in vivid primary colors across her consciousness, and they rang clear as bells.
When Matt had stepped into Jacob’s mind, he’d been confronted by a mind still in raw grief. His thoughts were brittle, metallic with anger and sharp with desperate sadness. It had affected Matt deeply - not only because he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Jacob, but because the shape and feel of his thoughts were familiar.
***
“Jacob’s mind reminded me of Micah,” Matt told him.
Mohinder opened his mouth to say something, but Matt interrupted him.
“And it’s not that I don’t like Micah, or trust him. He loves Molly more than anything, and that’s all I need to know. And I know he’s had the shittiest luck of just about anyone, so if anyone had the right to be pissed at the world, it’d be him. But the thing is, I don’t like reading his mind. It hurts. It’s full of sharp corners and shadows and it’s cold.”
Mohinder stood directly in front of him, arms still crossed. “What are you trying to say?”
Matt suddenly slid down the wall to the bathroom floor. "Crap. I don't know. It's been a long, weird, shitty day. I buried my ex-wife. I met her son, who's possibly the Antichrist or something, and he thinks I'm a freak."
Mohinder knelt down next to Matt, putting a hand on his knee. "I think you handled it pretty well, considering."
Matt tilted his hand against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe. I'm not convinced. And now I'm worried that Jacob is going to end up like Micah."
Mohinder shook his head, still trying to sort out what Matt was going on about. "I'm still not sure how that's a bad thing. You said that you trusted him--"
"I do. But god, that kid is so angry. He's hurting all the time, even after all these years. I'm just glad he's on our side, because I know what happens to the other guys."
Mohinder nodded. There was a reason that he'd assigned Micah to doing lab work and research for the Company, rather than as a field operative. Molly had told him what had happened in New Orleans three years ago; she'd helped Micah and Damon infiltrate some kind of drug ring, and had seen her best friend kill two men without blinking an eye. At one time, this would have made Micah an asset as an operative for the Company.
Things had changed, though. That wasn't what the Company stood for anymore. Mohinder had brought Micah on to help first in the lab, and then with training those with newly manifested powers. He had a gift for working with others, coaxing them to get the most from their new found abilities. He definitely didn't let Micah go on field assignments anymore.
"Maybe it'll be a good thing for Micah to work with Jacob," Mohinder said, squeezing Matt's knee. "He's going to understand what Jacob is going through better than either of us, after all. And maybe in helping Jacob, Micah will help himself."
Matt looked at him. "You think?"
"It's possible. I'm going to choose to be optimistic on this."
Matt grinned lopsidedly. "Don't you always?"
"And look where it's gotten me," Mohinder said, leaning forward to brush his lips with Matt's. "I'd say it's worked out pretty well."
"Except for those times when it didn't--"
Mohinder nipped at Matt's bottom lip, kissing him soundly in an effort to shut him up.
That trick doesn't work so well on me, you know, Matt thought at him. He ran a hand up Mohinder's bare back and pulled him a little closer.
Have to try harder to shut you up, won't I? He pushed Matt against the wall and straddled him, smiling as he did. This was an old game between the two of them, to see who could drive the other to distraction first.
"Chest okay?" Mat asked. He was sort of breathless, Mohinder noted happily.
"I'll be fine," he said, rocking slightly against Matt's hips. "Unless you have something drastic planned."
"Nothing drastic," Matt replied, grinning. His hands were around Mohinder's hips, thumbs rubbing along the sharp curve of the bone. "Though it's been a while since we did it on a bathroom floor," he added thoughtfully.
Mohinder snorted. "And they say romance is dead."
Matt moved a hand over the front of Mohinder's pants, palming him through the thin material. "I don't hear you complaining."
Mohinder shut his eyes at the teasing touch, feeling blood suddenly rush through his veins. He shifted his weight, canting his hips forward into the contact. "You're still clothed. And you're not kissing me. There's two for you."
Bitch, bitch, bitch, Matt thought at him as he leaned forward to kiss him.
A sudden, tinny ringing made him pause. It was Mohinder's cell phone, on the sink. He started to reach for it, but Matt grabbed his hand.
"God, Mohinder. Just let it go to voicemail."
"What if it's work?"
"Exactly my point."
Mohinder was ready to object, but it was hard to think of a coherent argument. Matt was doing something rather compelling to Mohinder's earlobe with his teeth, and attempting to unfasten his pants at the same time. So Mohinder let it ring.
But when it buzzed again, alerting him there was a new message on his voicemail, he broke out of Matt's embrace and grabbed it. Matt groaned in frustration.
"Workaholic."
"Pots and kettles, Matt," he said, bringing up the display. He frowned. "It was Molly."
Matt sat up a little straighter, watching with a worried look as Mohinder accessed his inbox.
"Hey guys, it's me. I was going to come up, but figured you guys probably wanted some, you know, alone time. Figured it was better to call instead of look. No offense, but I don't need to see that. EW. Anyway, that weird Delores lady called, the one that was taking care of Jacob. I don't know why she called me instead of you, other than that she's a nutcase. Anyway, Jacob ran away. I'm going to get him now. He's fine, and didn't get too far. I thought it'd be better if I went instead of either of you, since I'm the only one he's not completely freaked out by.
Hopefully I didn't ruin the mood. Oh, that's gross. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."
Mohinder shut the phone. There was a moment of silence. "She definitely ruined the mood, didn't she?"
"Yep."
Oh, the joys of parenting.
Next part: Capacity for the Impossible