It had been so short and so stupid. Mohinder didn't even know what to say or what to feel. Should he cry? Could he? Perhaps later, when Molly was sleep he could grieve. Even if it still didn't hit him. It didn't make sense. No sense at all. Heart racing, Mohinder just let her cry it out and waited for the numbness to let him feel something again.


With the kid scrambling over the fallen rubble and the message Matt implanted in his head with gun more than suggestion, the larger man was finally able to get to what had become of Peter's body. The younger of the two had died or was injured so often that the sight of his mangled corpse, no matter how horrible, likely meant little to Matt. It would take some time to work the metal from his skull, the reward would be gory, but at least Peter would be left to breathe again in no time.

He came to with a start, hands pushing aside rubble. "What did they get?"

Yes, Peter was concerned. Their supplies were low now, entirely too low. The destruction of one of their shelters meant that people that had come to rely on their supply drops would go hungry--

And Peter couldn't even remember the last time he ate. He figured he probably couldn't starve to death and more so he just went hungry whenever he possibly could.

The sounds of his voice in Matt's injured ears must have been dampened because when the older man didn't answer right away, Peter started to shout instead.

Probably a bad idea. When bombs went off, people didn't always move away. Sometimes they came to see what was left to take.