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 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?"

Why is there talking? Mohinder thought miserably, burrowing his face further into the cushion as if to drown it out. And noise? Why are things spinning-- Oh God, what if it's my super power to make things spin like this when very hung over? The chatter didn't stop either, not in his own head at least. His mind wandered to a place where it might seek a little refuge from the daylight but alas, he didn't have Matt's mental acumen.

Mohinder cracked an eye at Matt, the way he was standing there, smirking like that. He wanted to throw something at him, but it dawned on him that it would be useless to do so. Matt would probably know he was doing it before he could even grab a pillow!

Damn telepaths. Always cheating.

"I might throw up an aspirin," Mohinder replied as he rolled onto his side, facing the back of the couch now. "I probably will throw up any way. Why do people drink?"

Because it was fun to drink. It just wasn't fun to put up with what happened after drinking. Mohinder tugged the afghan off of the back of the couch and draped it over his head.

Dying would be pretty good about now.

Matt snorted in part amusement, part disbelief. "Seriously? I never thought you'd be the one for melodrama around here."

He pushed away from the wall to go further into the living room, glancing at Mohinder as he passed him but aiming to pick up the cell phone they'd taken from Primatech, just wanting to make sure that there were no missed calls or texts. There weren't, but when he put it down his eyes landed on his folder, and that's where he really wound up hesitating.

In the end he picked it up and started towards the kitchen again.

"There's still stuff to eat", he tossed over his shoulder when he passed Mohinder again. "For whenever you don't feel like dying anymore."

Personally, he was going to eat something. It'd help with the headache. Whether looking at the Company file on him would make that worse or not in turn remained to be seen.

It's not melodramatic if I'm actually dying, he shot back, the way he use to do it when Molly would chastise them for arguing while she was doing homework. He could hear Matt's chuckle in response and grinned a little into the cushions. No matter how bad things got, he could still rely on Matt. It was probably the best feeling he'd had in days.

Peter didn't come back in an hour, but no one really thought he would. While Mohinder napped and Matt poked around the kitchen, he finished burying the bodies. It was nearing dinner when Peter crept into the house, as if expecting to find something like he'd had the other day between the other two. Luckily, Matt was only looking absently at some ice cream and Mohinder's thoughts were unreadable in his sleep.

He was about to mention going up for a shower when the phone rang on the kitchen table.

Peter looked expectantly at Matt. Noah had come through after all. And weren't they lucky they had Peter? Decontamination could literally be teleported into if they were careful enough. Noah had pulled some strings but he and the Company were only very tentatively working together.

Common goals made enemies friends.

Matt looked back at Peter for a loaded moment before he picked up and answered the phone.

Things went by quite quickly after that.

Although the CDC was involved they didn't quite know what orders they were operating under - not that this mattered terribly to the Company, who had people on their side they wouldn't share much about but who could do things to help the process along. Maury might have been one of them if he wasn't locked into his own head, but there was no telling what kind of specials they had working for them. Matt knew he wasn't eager to find out and he still didn't like the Company getting involved to begin with, but he did trust Bennet for the time being. He would have even if there hadn't been little choice.

A decontamination area was already in the process of being set up when Bennet was filling Matt in on the details. Matt, in turn, would angle the phone away to ask Peter for details whenever they were needed - approximation on dead people, for example. When Mohinder woke up from the sound of the others speaking the phone started getting passed back and forth. It wasn't a long call but there was a lot of ground to cover with it.

Teleportation did wind up their fastest and most secure option and Peter got to take both Matt and Mohinder outside of what used to be central Odessa, right into an airtight temporary tent-thing they got to be herded through. There were several closed off and controlled sections in the structure. In the first room they all had to get rid of their clothes and any objects they had on them. What followed were checks for symptoms, blood being drawn for later testing, fresh clothes. It was hectic and odd with the people fussing over them covered head to toe in protective gear.

Matt was too tired of the whole thing to give a damn.

In the end, they were asked to wait while people passed back and forth, deciding whether they dared to let the three out into the world yet. Peter didn't seem tired at all, but patiently waiting for the go-ahead to dash out and leave this stage of his life behind him. Mohinder was probably restraining himself from asking about the findings and plans for the contaminated items and areas one more time.

Matt was leaning against a white plastic-like wall, feeling impatient and trying to read the mind of the small group of people hovering by the computer screen in the other room.

Dressed in light gray running trousers and a slightly too large gray t-shirt (and very happy to no longer be naked with the other two men), Mohinder picked himself up from the floor and immediately went to Matt. He could tell his friend was playing through the thoughts he could reach, and while he didn't want to wreck his concentration, he couldn't stay silent for so long.

"They already did a micro-organic shower. We have no symptoms, the air in this compartment is self contained and there's absolutely nothing left to test for. We know the viral incubation period." It made Mohinder nervous as he tried the lean-again-the-tent technique, not mirroring Matt so much as trying to get comfortable.

Must be asking how we arrived. Company protocols could have us taken into custody...

Mohinder wasn't the sort of man to be paranoid, though he absolutely had the cause to be after all he'd gone through. Curls flattened between the plastic and the back of his head as he stared at the shadows moving outside.

"I just want--"

"Doctor Suresh, officer Parkman, Mister Petrelli, would you please move into the next compartment?" a static, intercom voice interrupted him. Mohinder was all about going first, though Peter's stride beat him to it as he pushed through the plastic zippered door. Mohinder stepped out beside him and found Noah, hands on his hips, looking a little amused but trying not to be.

"You three--" Not that Noah would look at Mohinder. "You three were never here."

Peter's brows furrowed. That might be fair...considering how Peter had helped set Adam free.

"Right." Matt fixed Bennet with a look that wasn't hostile, but to the point - their history had been a shaky one, but Noah had proved himself a good man in Matt's eyes at the end of it. It was just that he still had that infuriating way of not quite playing fair, almost regardless of the situation. Kept his cards close to his chest. "What now?"

The older man shifted his stance slightly, looking back at Matt first, then to Peter. "Now, I'm going to handle it. I suggest you speak very quietly about this. Right now, no one has to know." His eyebrows raised slightly and he tilted his head, observing them through his glances, even shooting Mohinder a pointed glance. There was that slight curl of a smirk in place, too. The one that had made Matt want to strangle him at times. "I'll let you know if I need you."

He turned and gestured to a table behind him. Their items, previously packed into plastic bags and taken away, were tossed a bit haphazardly on the surface. Not that there were many.

"Your belongings are all accounted for. Well, except your clothes, I'm afraid. But I think you can manage, can't you?"

Matt didn't give a damn. Peter still seemed mostly anxious to get out of there, not quite liking the way Noah looked at him. But in true Peter-fashion, he still had to ask. He needed to make amends and wasn't quite sure how yet. "Alright. So we just leave? You sure?"

It was met with a slight nod and a head lightly tilted to the side as if to ask if there were any more questions.

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Sorry about being MIA this weekend. I was dragged out.

hey, it's what weekends are for!