seekevolution | Quarantine

Quarantine

News had a way of spreading a little too quickly. The moment Nathan had fallen at the press conference, media began having it's field day. Mohinder paid little attention.

He arrived at Odessa fourteen hours after the incident, severely jet-lagged and with a computer pre-loaded with all of the information that the Company thought he'd need. Mohinder had been down this road before, though never with such dire circumstances. The Shanti Virus was a subject near and dear to his heart, though it was far less stressful when all he needed to cure it was a bit of blood. Even though it was his own blood, at least he felt as if he was doing something.

Knowing from experience that not everything was black and white anymore, Mohinder kept his laptop and medical kit close at hand and made his way to the quarantine line with a grim look in his redrimmed black eyes. "Mohinder Suresh," he said, forgetting his title again for just a moment. "Doctor. You need to let me through."

The National Guard service man looked wary before radioing it in through the barricade. It was tense. Mohinder's shoulder bag slipped twice and he nearly dropped his sample kit. "All right, cleared to go in. Good luck, doctor."

Mohinder nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. He'd gone from New York to India and back again in two days, bringing Molly to stay with his mother. After what Sylar did to her, again, he could not risk leaving her in anyone else's care. Not with Matt gone.

Seeing the man, however, after he'd just gone off on this quest to find his father at the expense of helping him with a child they both sort of promised to look out for, did not make Mohinder smile. If anything, it only made the lines on his face etch in more deeply. He stood in front of him, looking as tired as Mohinder felt, ill fitting clothing a bit more rumpled than usual. Never mind, of course, that Mohinder had done his fair share of leaving too on his attempts to bait the Company through lectures across the globe. "Do I have a lab yet?" Mohinder asked. No greetings. No necessities. That's what happens when you abandon people, Matt.

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Matt sighed, freed his hands from Mohinder's, put his face in them and proceeded to take a deep breath. Now when he was back on the ground ... well, floor, whatever, his mind was reeling from the difference between hard solid reality and the fleeting existance and gentle buzz of Mohinder's thought world.

"No, yeah, we're fine", he informed Peter after that steadying moment, looking up at him from the floor with a mixed expression. "Did we, uh. What woke you up?"

Peter shrugged, looking sheepish. "I dunno."

Matt studied him for another moment but then decided that so long as Peter seemed okay, and he did for the moment, he didn't want to push. He glanced towards Mohinder before he fetched the remote, turned off the DVD and TV which had both been showing a blue screen since the movie had ended a while ago, and then left for the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

Peter turned towards Mohinder in turn, managing to look both curious and wary.

Mohinder was quiet as Matt took off and lightly scratched the back of his long neck before he pulled himself up. He was incredibly rumpled, nothing even a hand through his hair could fix readily. Peter's questioning glance was met with a smile, though Mohinder didn't put that much heart into it. He felt confused, moreso when he put together the events of the last few days.

Bringing up Janice, wanting a family, the way he'd been reddening around him-- Could Matt--? It seemed insane. He'd been with Janice for so long, dated her, married her-- It was Mohinder's turn to blush as he headed to the kitchen, Peter on his heels.

He had to admit though... Matt hadn't pinged as anything before, but he was warm, he was comforting-- The way he took care of Molly-- No. The way he took care of him was enough to take his breath away at the best of times. Delving into his dreams to save him, that moment on the beach in his mind... Mohinder was left grinning slightly down at the chili that as he gave it a good stirring.

"Mohinder, really, that was creepy, you guys were just frozen like that--"

"I was having a nightmare," Mohinder replied since Peter wouldn't leave it alone. "He managed to pluck me from it. Set the table."

"Set the table-- Mohinder, there's--" Peter fell silent when the older man glanced up at him and smirked a little. The current of Mohinder's thoughts, the way he looked, and the embarrassment Matt had displayed pretty much told him that he didn't want to know any more. That was their business. "Yeah, sorry. Fine. Wasn't trying to pry."

Mohinder would be in a fairly good mood for dinner. And that was unfortunate for Matt, who would certainly get the brunt of his intense gaze.

Edited 2014-01-23 19:50 (UTC)

It would probably be even worse for Peter, because even though he much like Mohinder had a habit of making bad decisions he wasn't emotionally oblivious the way Matt sometimes was. Or maybe it was more that Matt was emotionally out of shape, in a way. He hadn't dated for years and years, had fallen into a routine with Janice long before she divorced him, and even before that he'd kept a bit on the edge of things. He was attentive, you had to be when you were a cop. But he saw it a lot more between other people than between people and himself.

So he couldn't figure out the way Mohinder was watching him and alternated between giving him a questioning look in turn or just altogether trying to avoid eye contact at all. If Peter hadn't just lived through what was likely the worst personal tragedy for him, he might have had a field day. But as it was it mostly seemed to make him even quieter.

Matt, in an effort to keep everyone a team and also to keep some kind of topic on the table that kept Mohinder from looking at him like that, looked up at Peter and gestured towards the geneticist. "We got hold of Bennet. We might be out of here tomorrow, if we're lucky."

Peter looked up at Mohinder with that, clearly wanting to know the details. It was news to him - they'd only told him to please stay put, and he had, and he'd hated it.

"Yeah? And then what?"

"And then we go after Sylar." Mohinder was more than willing to have the quiet dispersed. This was a topic that they needed to discuss and it might as well be now. Noah could call at any time and once they were through with a decontamination procedure, he wanted to waste as little time as possible to track down the killer.

Peter didn't put down his spoon, though he was on his third bowl and probably would go for a fourth to fill up his hollow legs if there was any left. "Uh-- No offense, Mohinder, but don't you think you'd be better off with the CDC? You know, helping them with the virus?"

Mohinder had no idea that it was Peter that helped that very virus be unleashed, or he might have shot back with something a little more appropriate than: "I'm tired of him hurting the people I care about. I want to see it to an end. I know how to use a gun--"

"Again--" Peter did put down the spoon now and glanced at Matt for back up. "I mean, you saw what happened when Matt shot at him. I really don't think you should come, Mohinder. It's not safe."

Matt didn't appreciate the reminder and gave Peter a look that clearly showed it, but in the end he couldn't exactly argue that point. He'd very nearly died. The doctors had told him over and over that he was really lucky and how close of a call it had been and he had four very unflattering scars to show for that little attempt.

"It's not safe for anyone", Matt said bluntly, not wanting to take either side of the argument and feeling impatient that there even were sides to begin with. He looked briefly to Mohinder and then back again to Peter. "If we go after him, we gotta be smart about it. That goes for all of us. You're- look, Peter? You're the strongest we have. But no offense, you're kind of a loose cannon right now."

Peter opened his mouth to argue but Matt stared him down. In this situation, he probably was the most authoritative on the topic. He'd also had the least personal run-ins with Sylar, and that likely helped his judgment.

"Grief makes you sloppy." A pointed look on Peter which was then he turned on Mohinder. "Revenge too. I want the son of a bitch dead for all he's done too, but ..." He gestured towards himself, but really, they were all survivors of what Sylar had done. "It's not that easy. My vote? If we're gonna do it, we're doing it like a team."

He wasn't strictly on Mohinder's side just for that, though. If they did it Matt's way they'd all agree on what exactly the plan would consist of and act their parts accordingly. Everyone had to be suited to their jobs. And that's only if they could get a lead on Sylar to begin with.

A team. Yes. Mohinder's smile was a little warmer -- though perhaps he'd been singled out a bit with the 'revenge' quip. He felt much better about the situation, and yes, he might not have a power, but it was the same argument Matt had made before. He didn't need one. He had something else Sylar wanted.

Molly. Lists of specials. In a way, Mohinder had become Sylar's touchstone. Where did he keep going back to but that apartment in Brooklyn, the one Mohinder's father first brought him to? Perhaps that was another reason to move out of there, actually. Mohinder reached for Peter's bowl to fill it with another helping of chili as the youngest of the three gave in to Matt's guidance.

Peter didn't like it, didn't like the thought of getting anyone hurt when he could be hurt himself. And yet, he couldn't shake the thought that Mohinder really might be useful.

As bait.

He saw those memories, plain as day. Matt might have tried not to look, but Peter had ripped them open. Weighing what he knew about Mohinder, and the way that Sylar had only injured the geneticist slightly whenever they'd been together without really hurting him, he thought he might have something there.

Oblivious to Peter's thought process, Mohinder gave Matt a not so subtle 'thank you' look before breaking him off another piece of bread.

"I saw some beer in the refrigerator. It might do us all a little good to cool our nerves a bit."

Matt didn't quite catch what Peter was thinking but he didn't need to be a mind reader to tell that he was working on something from the way he ate slower and kept an eye on Mohinder. In turn, Matt shot him a look that was basically a warning, something that said to keep in line.

It was a short moment. He accepted the bread from Mohinder with a small nod of thanks, their fingers touching briefly, and took a bite out of it as he listened to the suggestion. And smiled a little crookedly.

"Just beer? I don't know about you guys, but I could for something stronger."

Honestly, at ths point ...

Peter looked surprised, but ultimately a slow smile to mirror Matt's appeared. Matt popped the rest of the bread into his mouth and stood.

"I'll clean, you scavenge."

Try not to kill each other.

The last thing Peter really wanted to do was drink, but when Mohinder found the Jack and some cola to go with it, he relented a little. Being with Matt and Mohinder wasn't anything like being with Nathan (the drinking aside), but he'd not had too many friends growing up and it was nice to have a little support when his world had just ended. It didn't matter the way that Nathan often treated him, it didn't matter that he'd been more of a pawn than a brother at times. He loved him. And Nathan loved him back.

Detecting a bit of sadness moving in when Peter started talking about playing baseball as a kid and his dad being too busy to go to the games, Mohinder poured them all a little more Jack than cola and nudged a bowl of crisps in the younger man's direction.

"My father wasn't that interested in my football games either," he said, a chance to commiserate as the world outside grew black. The lights inside the Moore's home caused the picture windows to turn into mirrors and as Mohinder smiled, the profile of his reflection did too. "What ever happens tomorrow, Peter... We all have to look out for one another. We might not have really grown up with a lot of support from our families, but that doesn't mean we can't support each other now."

Perhaps the 'something stronger' was a bad idea, Matthew.

"Think of us like a cell. Made up of individual parts, we do well. Matt is the ribosome...he breathes. And you! You create RNA-- Create every little strand you can! But apart, no one really helps the entire body do they? No." Evidently, he was imagining that he was teaching a kindergarten class now or something? "Cohesion! That is-- Have more to drink."

Edited 2014-01-24 00:18 (UTC)

Matt snorted, a sound that was quickly followed by a full-on chuckle. "Ribowhat?" Not that he really expected a proper explanation. Not that he was surprised to get a somewhat rambly one anyway. He was thoroughly amused.

Peter looked dubiously at Mohinder, obviously having never seen him even a little bit drunk. Matt didn't think he had either, but he was in a different position to Peter since he'd seen Mohinder relaxed before. Peter had likely only seen the professor type. Or the hurt type.

Matt liked the relaxed one, personally. He leaned his head into one hand and watched him for a moment, shaking his head.

"So the body- the body is the world, right? And it relies on a, a cell." He nudged Mohinder, teasing. "Sounds right up your alley, Doc."

The 'something stronger' was an excellent idea, what are you talking about.

Probably interrupting one or both of them when he thought of something, he raised a hand. "Hey, hey, hey, I thought of a toast. Hang on." He shifted the glass to his raised hand, cleared his throat and said, with great conviction, "Fathers are asses." And after a short beat: "To the asses."

Best toast ever! Mohinder lifted his glass, ignoring the slight swish of sugary liquid to fall over his knuckles. He probably should be banned from pouring duty for awhile, he'd overfilled their glasses. Peter was a little more reluctant, body processing the alcohol far better than the other two, but he lifted his drink up as well just in time for Mohinder to clink theirs together and send Jack dripping down both of their arms. Alas. At least everyone seemed calmer and Peter liked the camaraderie.

"Wait!" The Indian almost dropped his drink, recovering it before it could make too much of a mess on the table. Luckily, he'd already sipped quite a bit. "Wait, no! We are fathers now. And Peter will be a father one day. Soon enough."

He didn't want to perpetuate the ass cycle. Asses get a terrible reputation. Poor things.

"New toast!" Up, everyone, up with your glasses once more. "No never becoming like our fathers."

"Hear hear", Matt agreed heartily, clinking all their glasses together. Peter was starting to show that familiar little smirk and voiced his agreement to the toast as well, something which was more than good enough in Matt's book. He hadn't known Peter at any point, really. But he usually liked people and was glad to see the marked improvement in Peter's behavior, even if he still had a very undertandable tendency to drift off into silence on occasion.

For now though, he was looking at Mohinder in an amusedly critical way and when Matt followed his gaze he sort of had to share that same look with him.

Peter, falling back a bit into helper territory, got up and fetched a glass of water to press into Mohinder's hand with a clap to the shoulder. "Take it easy, there", he said with a cautiously amused look before he sat back down and Matt shot him a grin.

It wasn't too long after that before Matt started losing a fair bit of focus as well, but when he did he directed his attention towards Peter with a frown, asking how much it sucked, exactly, to not manage to get properly shitfaced.

"I get to laugh at your sorry asses in the morning", Peter retorted. "Enjoy your hangovers." Then he disappeared up the stairs, likely to get some sleep (and distance). Matt had half a mind to just stretch out over the table to do the same but it'd likely be a bad idea. He contemplated it a while though before he tapped Mohinder on the shoulder to call some attention to that predicament that was 1.43 am.

"Hey", he tried to say and yawn at the same time. "Geddup."

Water? Mohinder didn't think his bladder could hold any more to drink. At all. He stared at the water for a long time, looking through it at Matt's hands (as though that was a very important thing to have to worry about right now). They were larger, much larger than his own. He didn't think his thumb ring would fit on any of Matt's fingers at all. Perhaps the smallest one. He tried to get a good gauge for it, but his gaze kept slipping back to the water and that wasn't even remotely helpful.

At least half the bottle of whiskey was gone and a full two litre bottle of cola was ready for the trash by that point. Mohinder hadn't done as much hurting on it as Matt had, but there was a fair supply of both sloshing around in his stomach.

If Noah was going to get them out of here tomorrow, he better make it for later. The Indian was in for a terrible time in the morning.

At Matt's prompting, Mohinder pushed himself upright, nearly hitting his head on the low fixture over the table.

"Matt-- Matt." He steadied himself on the back of the chair. "Matt, the stairs are moving by themselves. That's bad, right?" Mohinder might be better off on the sofa. Forcing him to walk up the stairs could end in tears and broken bones.

If Noah could even figure something out tomorrow. He could just as well not manage to get them out of there at all, and that would be a real goddamn downer, and so Matt wasn't thinking about that at all. He busied himself by taking a firm grip on Mohinder's arm to steady him instead. He had to smile. Sorta laugh. This was ridiculous. Mohinder, the scientist, sounding genuinely frightened by a pair of stairs.

If you thought about it too long it sadly made complete sense given all they'd been through, but that wasn't nearly as funny, and so Matt wasn't quite thinking of that, either.

"C'mon, Einstein. Nice and easy now."

He tried to steer Mohinder towards and up the stairs. Mohinder was unsteady on his feet though and it didn't take Matt too long to put his arm around his friend's back instead, the other hand on the railing.

He laughed, way too amused at the whole thing.

"You're gonna haaate yourself in the morning, Mohinder. You really are."

"It seems pointless to hate yourself," he complained, leaning heavily against Matt as they made their slow ascent to the master bedroom. One of the other doors was closed, the guest room where Peter was staying and brooding, most likely. How long ago had it been when he'd left them be? How much more had Mohinder had to drink? He honestly couldn't remember. Shuffling now, Matt's arm still around him, Mohinder wrapped his fingers around the thicker wrist because the walls were closing in and the other door kept wiggling at him. It made him kind of want to wiggle too. Or perhaps that was his sudden plethora of knees, all wanting to buckle.

The thought made him laugh and he kept on laughing until he could safely step out of his shoes in the bedroom. "I want you to know. And I'm serious here, got it? Am I speaking Engllish? Oh God. I can't tell anymore. Doesn't matter. Read my mind-- Are you reading it? Good. Okay. Listen. You're-- you're one of the best men I've ever known. You are. And a damned good dad. The best. Janice was stupid to give you up. You--"

Hold on. He had to belch. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of it too, which might have looked better if his face wasn't still so bruised.

"I count myself lucky. Very lucky. I'm glad I know you." He gaze Matt an awkward salute before crawling into bed and falling on his face in the near middle of it. He said something else too, but luckily, that was too muffled to make out.

Matt wasn't entirely sure what to say to that and listened to the praise with a vaguely confused stare. He watched Mohinder as he spoke, though. He felt altogether unfocused and so he kind of zoned out on his friend's equally unfocused body language and gestures.

He didn't wind up saying anything, just kind of blinked when Mohinder was done like he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened. Then there was a rather long moment before he yawned and toed his shoes off. Which took a few tries but it was okay.

"Move", he laughed faintly as he nudged at Mohinder who didn't seem at all inclined. Maybe he was asleep. This posed a problem as Matt needed space to sleep too, and he wound up considering this issue for way too long before he just kind of shoved-slash-moved Mohinder away from the center of the damn thing. He was a strong man, it wasn't too bad, but Mohinder was fairly uncooperative and so he had to nudge him into place quite a few times before he was happy with it.

Then he tossed a blanket over him, because why the hell not, he looked like he could use it, and halfway fell onto the somewhat-free half of the bed he'd created. Fell asleep almost immediately which was pretty awesome for a change. He'd regret not taking his clothes off when he woke up but at the moment it was such a relief to just pass out. It had been a really long few days. Way, way too long, for all of them.

Too much alcohol kept away the dreams, kept away all thoughts at all, and sleep was vaguely uninteresting for the first time since he'd come to America. There weren't the sounds of gunshots in the distance, of backfiring traffic, or people yelling. Everything was quiet. And calm. Everything else was a little too warm but Texas nights took care of that.

He didn't wake up first. Instead, he'd tucked himself up against Matt, arm around most of his waist as if he'd become Mohinder's personal, oversized teddy bear. The heat of the Indian's breath caught in Matt's shirt and spread in and out as he exhaled.

This close and the wiring looking curls that eluded taming without the right hair products were soft on exposed skin. Mohinder didn't seem to understand boundaries in his sleep, not pressed so close, fingers curled in Matt's shirt.

Matt woke from sounds downstairs drifting into his consciousness, but that wasn't what registered first. What did was the very obvious but not unpleasant sensation of someone lying next to him, close and warm. It took him a while to really want to wake up with that, happy to just drift in the coziness for a while, but eventually he stretched and hummed slightly and shifted when another small noise downstairs made itself known.

And that's when he realized that it was Mohinder he had to pry away from him in order to move. That sure was an ... interesting moment, and Matt may or may not have murmured an "Oh, god" when it him, but he managed to sneak out of the other man's hold fairly smoothly. It was just. Way more boggling and a little distracting than it should have been to his still-fuzzy mind. He remained in the room for a second before he turned and carefully stepped down the stairs to find Peter serving himself breakfast, looking a lot fresher than Matt would have hoped to feel.

It was light out, so that hurt. Matt was practically peeking through his fingers at Peter who shot him a look over his shoulder, looking like he was still deciding whether to find that funny or just kind of annoying.

"Stop- stop thinking", Matt said before Peter had figured out which option to go with and went to look through the cabinets for some painkillers, gesturing over his shoulder towards the younger man as he went.

Peter just shrugged and poured some more cereal onto his yoghurt. "Told you."

"Yeah, I remember. Doesn't mean you have to keep thinking it."

Matt wasn't actually in a bad mood though, all things considered, and the glass of water to wash the pill down with was a welcome one. He didn't eat yet though, just sat by the table for a moment, trying not to think about much of anything and trying not to listen to whatever Peter might be. He just had the instinctual feeling he didn't want to know what Peter was thinking at the moment, so he tried extra hard with that.

"So how's Mohinder?" What? He wasn't thinking. He was talking. Matt said not to think but nothing about being snarky otherwise. He tried to keep the crunching to a minimum but cereal was inherently loud to eat. Pressing a finger across his lips, Peter watched Matt swallow some aspirin and lightly shifting a coffee cup towards his hand. He didn't care to do telekinesis with a finger as a guide, like Sylar did. His eyes, for little things, did well enough. "I heard...giggling?"

Probably not best to torment the larger man but Peter wasn't exactly afraid that Matt would pummel him for teasing him about his boyfriend. That was the term, right?

Peter knew next to nothing about Matt, after all. They'd hardly met really. He didn't even know that there was a little girl living with the two men until recently.

So sorry for getting things...wrong.

"He's probably going to be next to useless. I mean, you know him a lot better than I do but he looks like the sort of guy that gets hung over looking at a beer can."

Matt shot Peter a look that was, to his credit, only mildly terrified. Thankfully, he didn't seem to have to answer that one. He pursed his lips and leaned back in the chair with fingers pressing into his right temple.

"Mm, yeah, well. Until we hear from Bennet it's the end of the world out there so you know what, he can be as useless as he wants in my book." It took him a moment to realize that that wasn't the actual question, and he frowned slightly at himself before he just waved a hand in a loose gesture upwards. "He's asleep."

He'd had half a mind to protest that really, he didn't know Mohinder that well, but he'd seen the man be a father and so he really did know quite a few things no one else probably did. So he let that one be.

Instead he lobbied the question back to Peter.

"And you, how're you holding up?"

"Better than yesterday," Peter said with a huff and sort of literally flung himself into a chair as if he suddenly forgot he has some bones that wouldn't appreciate that. Coffee of his own and no headache to speak of, Peter's curiosity was getting the better of him as he peered through the smoke at Matt.

None of your business, Petrelli, but--

"Um...so how long?" Peter was a lot like Mohinder in many ways. They both had trouble not asking questions that the probably shouldn't. He slipped an arm over the back of his chair and tilted his head back. "If it's none of my business, that's cool too."

Just making small talk. But man, Mohinder was really thinking loudly about him. Never would have thought-- Oh, wonder if there's muffins--

Matt looked over at Peter like he'd grown an extra head before the penny finally, finally dropped. Quite literally, actually, since he'd been tipping his chair slightly and now decidedly wasn't.

"What?"

Want to try that one again, Matt?

"You think- oh, no. No, that's not it. No." He laughed in a somewhat awkward way and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "We're, um - we're taking care of Molly. God, she's this amazing little girl, but she ... Sylar murdered her parents. We just want to keep her safe."

Really, Peter, it should have been obvious. Probably.

"O-Oh! Wow, sorry!" Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and turned properly in his chair. "I just thought-- And it's cool, I mean, he obviously is--" So said a man who had hair and eyes like a girl-- But that was neither here nor there. "It's cool that you don't mind. So you're taking care of a kid? What's that like?"

Upstairs, Mohinder was just waking up and before Peter could say anything else or Matt could even respond, a wave of sick, somewhat nauseating thoughts traveled down to them both. Peter bit his lower lip and looked up at the ceiling with a wince.

"I know I'm a registered nurse," he said, scratching his cheek with one finger, "but I am not holding his hair back if he--"

The pitter patter (or thump-thump-thump really) of geneticist feet break any thought at all as Mohinder tries to get to the bathroom before all hell breaks loose.

Peter tapped his fingers on the table and stood up. "Never mind. I've got this." Mohinder needed a little back rub and some water. Matt could sit it out.

A very good thing, since Matt was busy trying to keep those thoughts out of his head or he might feel sick too and that would be doubly bad.

"Thanks!" he called after Peter because that was a seriously good guy move on his end. And he appreciated it, especially when he leaned his head into his hands and tried to will some white noise into his own head, cause sick sounds would definitely not help the creeping nausea in his own body.

That said, Mohinder was way more of a lightweight than Matt was and when him and Peter slowly came down the stairs Matt looked up with a sympathetic smile.

"Wow Mohinder, you look like shit." He caught Peter's eye for a moment before he looked back at the geneticist, inclining his head slightly. "You're sticking to the beer next time."

"Yes, thank you, Matt. Always what a person wants to hear first thing in the morning," Mohinder grumbled and crawled dramatically -- and cat-like -- onto the sofa to flop on his stomach. One socked foot rested against the arm and he buried his head in a seat cushion.

"Actually," Peter chimed in helpfully, "it's almost noon and the first thing you heard was something like, 'holy crap, that can come out of a person?'"

One slim, brown-skinned arm jerked backward in Peter's general direction before the knuckles hit the floor, suddenly without the power to bat at the offending man in any way, shape or form.

Peter's smile was slightly crooked when he joined Matt back at the table and shrugged. "I think that's my cue to do one last lap. I'll be back in an hour." That meant that he wanted to get back to the bodies and finish digging, actually. Just in case it was awhile. "If Claire's dad-- If Noah calls, wait for me to get back, okay?"

Matt was amused by the exchange and gave Peter a small nod in response to the smile of his. Ribbing Mohinder had been a game Matt had enjoyed for months and so he was very welcoming to Peter's contributions.

His expression turned more serious when he nodded, though, and reached out to catch Peter's shoulder to halt him for a moment before he could leave.

"Let us know if you need us, alright? We're a team. And we're happy that you're here." He meant that, too. Peter was an asset, but much more than that, he was in the same situation as them and had just lost someone incredibly important. They should stick together. Help each other out.

He waited for Peter's nod of understanding before he let him go. Then he proceeded to feel antsy for no reason, which was dumb, so he battled it by attempting to ignore it. It was a few moments after the door had shut again that he adressed Mohinder.

"Hey." He leaned against the wall halfway-separated the living room from the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the miserable pile of a human that was his flatmate and co-parent. "Need an aspirin?"

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