seekevolution | The Storm

Matt mellowed out when Molly curled up with him and he wrapped his arm around her and leaned his chin on the top of her head.

"Yeah", he said, shooting Mohinder a look even as he hugged his daughter closer. It read slightly apologetic, but that wariness in his eyes still hadn't gone away. The ingrained distance that he still needed. "I just worry."

Of course he did. About both of them. They stayed like that for a moment in quiet companionship before they got out of the car, Matt a little slower than he'd like, especially when his left arm reminded him that he'd gotten hurt. He grimaced, rolled his shoulder, but kept his other hand linked with Molly's when they followed Mohinder along.

This was Mohinder's turf and Matt was glad to shut off a bit, to not have to lead. And he still kept all kinds of vigilance and was altogether tense and a little twitchy whenever someone unexpected appeared or something happened, but he trusted Mohinder now to lead the way and to handle most of it.

He was surprised by how clean everything seemed, how organised. It was one hell of a shock compared to New York - the order, the clipboards, the civil conversation.

The fact that the building was standing was another plus.

Getting Molly to bed became a priority after she had a fruit cup and Matt a peanut butter sandwich with milk. It was still fairly early but they all needed to lay down and Mohinder was absolutely on a paternal sort of kick. The small two room suite that Mohinder had been given was plain and unadorned with anything but Molly's drawings. The cups and plates were thick and white, the cutlery plastic, and the throw pillows on the sofa where Matt reclined rough and unbroken in.

Mohinder missed his apartment. He missed the lived in space he and Matt and their girl had made at home. At this rate, he'd never see it again. Mohinder settled himself on the edge of the coffee table by Matt's head and set his hand on the larger man's chest before he decided to be a little more bold than usual.

Matt wouldn't mind the shift onto his lap would he? Mohinder was a slight man. He certainly didn't weight enough to hurt the other man. A month apart had been difficult for them both and closeness to his detective, now that Molly had been looked after, was honestly all that the Indian wanted.

They were bloody. Matt didn't smell the best. But he was here. His fingers curled through hair longer than he last remembered touching.

"We don't get separated again. Not any more."

Matt didn't mind at all. While he didn't feel safe (a feeling that had been slowly gorund down to very little over the past month) he did feel more relaxed now. And tired in a way he could allow himself to be for once. No need to keep watch, stand guard, count the hours. He could just sink into the relative softness of the sofa and listen to Molly and Mohinder and just through their presence feel how the hollowness that had started settling somewhere in his chest was filled with something else.

So when Mohinder joined him and climbed on top of him, Matt locked eyes with him and wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him close, his other hand coming up to touch his face.

There were still small flecks of blood visible on the dark skin if you looked hard enough. Matt looked. He wanted to look, needed to look and really commit this face to memory, even now perfect in some ways because of the marks of distress.

"Good", he said, voice hoarse, and kissed him. Not particularly hard and nowhere near as hurried as back in the loft but close and deep and drawn out.

Now that he was certain that his telepath hadn't left him, checked out, or been replaced by one so much harder than he was truly willing to think as possible, Mohinder relaxed into the kiss, into his arms. This ordeal wasn't over. It would be difficult, but they were together. Protected. Mohinder pulled out of the kiss long enough to look down at Matt, to repeat a gesture from earlier that day, forehead to forehead. A meeting of the minds, perhaps.

It didn't matter. They needed to reconnect.

"You're going to need some new clothes," Mohinder said quietly, his dark knuckles ghosting Matt's cheeks. "Your jeans barely stay up."

He didn't care a smidge about Matt's weight, but he did miss the bulk a bit, the way the largeness made him feel safe. And besides, his gauntness now was unhealthy. The California glow to his cheeks was missing.

Mohinder's eyebrows furrowed and he leaned down to kiss him again, softer. His lips trembled and a month of emotion slipped from him at once, a great wall of relief and terror and loneliness rushing out of him. He couldn't stop it.

"Matt--" Too many words. Too much to say and he'd never quite managed it. He shouldn't be the one about to break down into tears, he'd had a fairly reasonable time of things. But Matt-- Oh, he'd ached for him. Ached.

Matt would always have soft features, having never been an angular or muscular type, but there was something hollowed out about those features now. Adding the pale skin brought on from too much sneaking around and hiding out, the scratches and bruises and specks of blood, he absolutely looked like he'd come right out of a war zone.

But then again, he had.

Mohinder looked more like himself even if he too bore too many marks from their time apart and that served as an anchor to Matt. He kept his eyes closed when Mohinder moved away from the kiss to lightly press his forehead to his and then breathed out slowly, breathed something out, let something go when he opened them again.

He could almost hear the tears in the other man's mind, brought on from pent up longong and grief and worry. "Ssh", he hushed, murmured, shifted slightly and stroked his fingers over Mohinder's cheek. He didn't have to say anything. Matt wasn't sure what he'd do if he heard it right then, still too shell-shocked to really process anything. "It's ... let's just stay here. A while. Okay?"

"Come to bed with me." This wasn't a decree for Matt to rip off his clothing or to take him hard on any questionable surface. It was just a hundred times more comfortable than this and they could both properly lay down. It didn't matter if they were dirty. They could shower in a few hours, after Mohinder went down to the lab. No one would begrudge him this time with Matt. It didn't matter if they'd been at this portion of their relationship for very little time, or how slow they'd been at it. It didn't matter because none of the people out there had been raising a daughter with a telepath or been hunted by Sylar. No one had almost lost it all so many times like Mohinder had.

He drew Matt off of the couch and to the bed in the corner of the small room. There was another kiss and yes, Mohinder did strip down to his underwear, but his intentions were far less sexual than they were sensual. The difference was in the front of his mind.

He just wanted to be held. Or, if Matt preferred, to hold him. It was important to the Indian and they both needed a nap. Perhaps Matt needed a few lifetimes to sleep properly.

He gave a tired nod but didn't say anything. Neither of them did, after that. But it was a silence they both understood and so it wasn't a bad thing, just very telling of their respective ordeals.

Once in bed Matt leaned into Mohinder's shoulder the same way he had back in India such a long time ago, mouth pressed against the skin, one arm laid over Mohinder's torso to ensure he'd stay there. With the way Mohinder kept a hand to his chest and partially curled into him as well, it ended up a very mutual thing. Holding onto each other. Needing each other.

There was some problems winding down from New York but Mohinder's breathing and hearing Molly sleep close by helped Matt drift into sleep himself. He was too tired to dream but he was kind of fidgety in his sleep which was a new development since he usually slept like a log.

Whenever Mohinder got up (or something else disturbed them), Matt would wake. Instantly, knowing. But until then he had someone else's presence, this intimate, safe-meaning presence to help him keep calm.

Mohinder's phone buzzed two hours later. His staff was waiting. They'd been waiting for him all day and evidently, it didn't really matter to them if he needed some alone time with his family. With Matt especially. He reached for the bloody device on the bedside table and flipped it open, pulling it to his ear.

"Hello? Right, yes. I'll be up in half an hour," he said, glancing at the time in pain. He'd slept with his contacts in and now his eyes were dry and aching. It matched his head and the scrapes and the slash across his throat. Mohinder could tell Matt was awake and he apologised softly before he slipped out of bed and padded to the tiny bathroom for a shower. His hair was still wet when he returned, sleepy, shower time thoughts still in his head and glasses on his face to replace the contacts.

He wouldn't be long, he thought to Matt while he yawned. They would need him to sign off on the inoculation or perhaps want him to be there to check the results one more time.

He'd no sooner left than the faint scent of ozone in the air signaled the arrival of someone else, Peter glanced around the room, map in one hand, push pin in the other. Being around Molly had been enough to get her power and-- "Okay, yeah, that makes teleporting way easier."

When Mohinder got up Matt reached out to listen to Molly, who was still asleep even if somewhat fitfully. He sank into the pillow, feeling exhausted but awake, and after Mohinder left (and he thought quietly to him that he'd stay with Molly) and Peter showed up he was almost grateful. Something to do had always worked out better for him. He wanted to handle things and even if he didn't have the energy to do anything in a very active sense at the moment he still needed to know what was going on.

So he looked at Peter, mentally kicking into action even if he kept his voice down for Molly's sake. He actually smirked, very faintly. Peter would be more or less unstoppable if he went on like that and that was one hell of an asset.

"How's New York?" he asked without preamble, pressing a lingering hand to the space beside him Mohinder had occupied not long ago before he got up and stepped into his jeans. Mohinder had been right in that they didn't fit him anywhere near as well anymore, but that's what belts were for. Nevermind the torn fabric and dirt and blood.

Nevermind all that.

He had a distinct image of New York in ruins, but at the same time he had more faith in Peter than that.

"Yeah, about the same as when you left it," Peter said, still able to smile despite everything. "I dropped off the rest of the supplies and put notes wherever there were some people holding up. Oh-- Hold on." Matt was still buckling a belt that would need a few new holes in it really when Peter blinked out and back into the room holding a massive stuffed elephant. "That's the last of it," he said and plopped down on the edge of a bed still warm from body heat.

It'd been awhile since he smelled anything really clean, but this-- This was nice.

"You've got a shower? It works?" Peter was still just a kid at heart, he'd grown up in body but maybe not to much in his head. "Are you going to use it? Actually, you should. You look like a dirt ball."

A lazy, teasing smile kept right on going.

Peter lost Nathan but, in a way, gained Matt Parkman.

Matt was a lot nicer to him than Nathan.

Matt's eyes widened faintly at the sight of the elephant, and he shook his head but went up to give Peter a quick but well earned hug. They'd been through a whole lot together and Peter had quickly become one of the few people Matt really felt that he could trust and count on. And there was understanding between them too. You didn't spend a month together without some discussion and even if they hadn't had a few talks there would always be the more-than-enough-knowledge that they had each other's backs.

He gave Peter a reproachful look when he leant back though. "Wow, thanks", were the words he chose in response, but not actually having taken offense he squeezed the younger man's shoulder briefly before he let go and picked up his t-shirt with some distaste.

Yeah, well. He had a point.

"You can shower after me", he offered, and waited for the nod before he left the room. He found a towel in the bathroom - probably the one Mohinder had used before he left - and when he stepped under the water he felt immediately better.

New York had been almost branded to his skin. The dust, the grime, sweat and dirt and blood, and getting to rinse it off was such a relief.

It wasn't a long shower, but Molly woke from the sound of the water running. She was a little uncertain at finding Peter instead of any of her fathers, but she recognised him and knew he was okay, so she gave him a small smile when she approached him.

He'd probably get another hug when she saw the elephant, though.

A hug Peter most certainly received. He just needed one from Mohinder and then he'd unlock the achievement from this little group. Peter was more than pleased by it, happy to see the girl so happy, and didn't say no when she offered to make him cereal in the kitchen.

"Wow, milk-- I never thought I'd miss milk so much," Peter joked, tucking into his second bowl when Matt came out of the bathroom in dirty clothes but looking much better. He had his mouth full of Cheerios when he stood up. Food was nice (very nice) but being clean was so much nicer still and Peter ducked away into the bathroom to wash the grime from his skin.

Hopping off of the chair, Molly was once more full of hugs and then poured Matt something for breakfast too. Her eyes were singularly focused on him the whole while as if she was afraid that he wasn't real, or that he'd turn to sand and water.

When Mohinder did make it back, that slash on his throat pronounced even now, he'd find Molly sitting in Matt's lap, small hand against his large palm, telling him in half words and half thoughts about their month apart while Peter sat beside the stuffed elephant ate spaghetti and meatballs from a can.

He'd even managed to shave, how amazing was that? Matt didn't really have the genes for full-on beard growth but with the dark, prickly stubble gone he both felt and looked a lot better, even if there were still remainders of dark circles under his eyes.

Peter looked a lot better too with his hair clean. It had been getting much too long and you could tell even more on Peter how dirty it had been, greasy strands frequently tucked behind his ears. But he was smiling now, and eating, and it made Matt glad to see given his recent tendency to fast.

But Molly made him the most happy. He couldn't quite stop touching her, if it was by smoothing her hair back or kissing her forehead or bruhing his fingers on her face. But he listened and took in the loneliness and fear and worry of this last week. The weeks prior hadn't seemed too bad and when she had a fun story to share about another kid she'd met back in Atlanta Matt managed to laugh, even if they both fell silent for a moment after with the quiet contemplation of what might have happened to that friend.

When Mohinder came back Molly interrupted herself to give him a hug too. She always did now, in greeting. She was scared not to anchor them to her after everything that had happened; every separation an ordeal and every reunion worthy of celebration.

Matt rose as well, eyes on the cut on Mohinder's skin for a moment before he looked at his face, and went up to take the one of his hands Molly hadn't claimed.

They really were family. Peter would notice with that bittersweet feeling but a small smile. He missed his own - but with the knowledge that he could see them at any point without fear of spreading the illness, it wasn't too bad.

Just, well. Nathan would always be a loss.

"How did it go?" Matt asked, and there was more to him now, the real him and not the makeshift soldier in the way he looked at Mohinder.

Molly might be just a little too big to be carrying around, but Mohinder still did it from time to time, especially now. She might be afraid of them leaving her, or afraid that they'll be killed, but she's become a touch stone for the normal, something that Mohinder so desperately needed.

It was one thing to keep busy and another to have something to keep busy for.

With Molly on his hip and a smile to Peter, Matt received the remainder of Mohinder's attention. "Arthur seems to think we'll be able to manufacture enough inoculation for the West Coast in a month. He's sending the formula to be independently verified. I argued that we ought to begin inoculations in the area instead but he seemed to think that the threat on this coast was more or less neutralised with time and, I will agree with him here, the West Coast has been more or less untouched and has suffered heavily from fearful rioting."

Peter's ears didn't exactly prick at the name. Arthur was fairly common, certainly, and Mohinder hadn't used a last name. Truthfully, he didn't know it.

"It's his facility and I don't have much of a problem so long as people are being helped. As for New York...the people there aren't infectious. It's more of a job for the military to establish control. Obviously, they're doing a fine job now but-- Red Cross could begin mobilizing into the various plagued cities as early as tomorrow. I believe Baltimore will be first, given how close it is to the Capitol."

Mohinder could certainly talk and the thought in Peter's mind right now, grinning in the corner? It's the accent that does it for you, isn't it?

Shut up, Petrelli. But it was thought with a sudden smile.

The accent was just one of the many qualities Matt liked about Mohinder but he hadn't really thought about it until now when it was pointed out to him. The teasing in Peter's mental voice actually served to put the affection he felt for the man at the forefront of his mind. He watched the way he held Molly and how his eyes focused behind those glasses and listened to the words. It was good news, really. A shot at turning things around. A month was a long time, but ...

But it was no longer up to him. And that was a relief.

He glanced at Peter, thinking along those lines. They no longer had any obligation to help.

"So that's it, huh? You could go back to your family", he said with a gentle inflection. "See your nephews. Your mom."

He'd have no objection if Peter wanted to stick around - he'd grown quite fond of the younger man and appreciated his company and suspected he would even moreso when they weren't perpetually in danger - but he'd come back to his family. It was only fair Peter should get to see his own.

To Mohinder, he added, "I don't really care how things are run so long as people get help. If I can help with that, then ..." A gesture. New York had become personal, somehow. He knew a lot of the people that were struggling there even if only by their faces. "But I want to make sure we stay together this time. No matter what."

No matter what.

Peter started for a moment, not about the teasing (though he'd been about to mention the Indian's ass as a reprise), and simply blinked at Matt as if it'd never occurred to him that he was allowed to head home. It sounded like a dream and he stood up, spoon left in the can.

"I... Well huh. Yeah, actually, I think I will. Listen, you guys ever want a place to stay, come up to Maine. Just have Molly find me. You'll always be welcome. We have a pool."

Molly blinked and looked up at Mohinder, arms around his neck. "Can we?"

Now that made him laugh. "Perhaps we'll do that when it's safer to travel," he promised. Peter offered Matt a hug and Mohinder hugged him as well.

Achievement obtained, Peter thought to himself.

After he left, Mohinder turned back to Matt. "They offered me a chance to oversee in San Franscisco but... I think I'd rather stay here. It's impeccably safe and well stocked and... I think it's time to settle in for a bit." Settling in into a space smaller than the first flat in Brooklyn would be a nightmare, but it would do for awhile.

No, not a nightmare. It would be heaven. There was food and water and most importantly two people Matt cared so deeply for it was still difficult to really grasp. Space was a non-issue. He didn't care.

"Yeah. Sounds good." For as long as they were able to, having somewhere to be, not effectively stealthing and being on the run? It sounded like everything Matt could want. Letting go of Mohinder to get a glass of water (water!), he then asked, "San Francisco, is that where they're going to ... what, move production?"

Of the vaccine?

You turn into a bit of a control freak after a while, so Matt wanted to know and had a few more questions as well. That said, he looked and seemed more relaxed, even just from the way he was leaning back against the sink.

"Communications all work here? Radio, TV, phones?" He didn't have his own anymore. He should get a new one.

Mohinder was happy to answer Matt's questions after he put Molly down and she went back to the elephant and the bed he and Matt had slept in to curl up. He did hope that, in the very near future, Molly would be able to go back to being normal again. New York might never be, but their girl deserved more than this.

She did seem to know when her dads had to talk, though, and while she was within ear shot (and more importantly, line of sight) of her new parents, she was fine with letting them have their moments. They seemed to need them.

Besides, you couldn't convince her otherwise that seeing them kiss like that was ever a bad thing. It meant her family was really really. She might not have a mom-figure any more but both Mohinder and Matt filled in that role at different times.

And there was always Grandma Suresh.

"Everything works here. The towers are all right. Television is a little bit more sketchy. News programs are a bit guarded and the country has pockets of martial law invoked but--" All right. Matt working the taps was both cute and sad at the same time. Mohinder moved in beside him, hand to his back in an affectionate, understanding way. "But yes. They can synthesis the serum here in small doses, so I believe I'll tell Arthur that I will stay to oversee that aspect of it."

Matt drank half of the water before he put the glass down with a small nod and a sense of relish. He reached out to brush his hand over Mohinder's shoulder as he listened, dusting off something imaginary or real, it hardly mattered.

Molly was thinking about all of them. That suited Matt fine; so was he. Things were slowly grounding themselves when they were all together again.

"Arthur", he mimicked. Or questioned. He lifted his eyes to Mohinder's. "You always that familiar with the boss?"

It wasn't hostile or jealous, but had a somewhat wary edge even beneath what might have been teasing if he'd had a bit more reason or energy for it.

Mohinder stopped to think -- difficult to do with the way Matt kept touching him -- and shook his head. "I actually don't know his last name. Pinehearst, likely. This is his facility," Mohinder grinned. "I suppose that private sector pharmaceutical research is a bit more lax than the rest of the world. It's actually fairly pleasant. He employes a fair bit of people like you and Molly as well. They're all just as willing to talk about their abilities too. So strange. I suppose that this is a safe haven for them."

Mohinder couldn't help but smile. This was a truly beautiful place and now that Matt was back, Mohinder thought that he might truly be able to enjoy his time here. His job was done with the inoculation. He might be able to start on his original research again...

If he'd just saved the world -- he didn't quite think of himself that loftily actually -- couldn't he have a little leisure?

"Some of the people here are truly remarkable. What Arthur has created here is wonderful. I really need to find you some new clothes."

Matt had to think about that. A safe haven? After all the ordeals leading up to New York - twice - he hadn't considered it possible. Hadn't thought about it at all. He'd been abducted twice, held against his will, experimented on and then been on the run, and his idea of normalcy hinged on not letting anyone know about any of that. About what he could do. It'd lead to more of the same.

To talk about it ... that someone would employ people like him willingly, it didn't quite add up to his experiences. Or, well. Thompson had, but Thompson had also been the person pulling those strings that Matt hated.

Maybe he was paranoid.

"I'd kill for a new shirt", he agreed after a moment. "Molly says I smell."

Dropping his hand to loosely cross his arms, he leant his hip against the sink, still watching Mohinder. Rather closely. For several reasons.

"This Arthur guy. You don't think he's one of us?"

Yeah, sorry, tunnel vision. It was what made most sense to Matt though. Normals didn't tend to trust specials so easily. Unless it was about exploiting them?

"Well you do!" the peanut gallery called and Mohinder laughed. He didn't mind the smell so long as the man underneath it was real and healthy. He'd live happily with the rest. That said, there were likely clothing in Matt's size to be had easily. Pinehearst was a wonder in self sufficiency. Mohinder had been lucky enough to get Molly a few things to wear as well upon arriving. They'd not exactly had a lot of time to pack and the roads and shopping malls were not conclusive to retail purchases for the last week or so.

Mohinder was just moving to the door when Matt stopped him. More questions. So many questions.

He felt a bit like he was teaching again.

"I never asked. I'd assumed he would volunteer the information. For men like Arthur, and men like my father, he likely has--" or had? "-- a child with abilities. Molly, will you be all right here if we go to storage?"

"Can you bring up some ice cream?" she challenged and Mohinder smirked.

"It's six in the morning."

"There's always ice cream in the soft serve machine in the cafeteria," she promised and Mohinder decided to just give in and lead Matt to the lifts.

Matt followed, running a hand over the back of his neck, shooting a look at Molly before he walked out the door and let Mohinder close and lock it behind them. He hadn't paid a lot of attention when they arrived but now when he was looking around in a more attentive way he was struck again not only by the cleanliness and apparent organisation around them, but by the structure as well.

The building seemed very big.

"They have everybody who works here living here?"

Yeah. More questions. He didn't actually realize how many he was asking, but it was a way of orientation. Preliminary defense. He kept close to Mohinder, hands in his pockets but arms brushing every now and then.

And when someone walked past, Matt kept his eyes on her and moved subtly closer to the other man.

He added what he'd been thinking some time prior, after a moment. "If these people have cell phones to spare, I need one. I think mine got ran over."

Most of Matt's idiosyncrasies, Mohinder didn't even notice. He was too busy discussing the building, too busy talking at length about how car it went underground, how it had been able to accommodate all of them once Fort Lee went on high alert and a curfew was called. "The labs are even more extensive. Being able to house scientists has been a small blessing. It's almost as if this sort of disaster had been planned for."

Mohinder was at ease, however. Waiting for the lift, he leaned lazily against the wall. His lab, he explained, was on the third floor. The offices were on the seventh. There weren't any children here, however.

"So I'm rather certain this place isn't meant to house an entire work force. But the cafeteria really is a thing of beauty. Some new clothing first. We might want to burn what you currently have on now..."

Planned for. Right. Matt mulled that over and it wasn't the type of remark he'd forget. The company had been playing god with the virus, a former member had wanted to release it. What was this Pinehearst, really?

But he didn't say anything about it right then. Told himself that look, he was in a seemingly safe place for the first time in a month and he had his family again, so why not try to relax for once?

He listened, put it to mind. Third floor. Good to know.

Once they got to the storage he had to agree even more strongly with Mohinder that yeah, the clothes he was wearing right now had no right to keep existing. The storage was big, too. It had a lot more than Matt had thought, not that he'd been sure what exactly he'd expected, and when Mohinder tossed him a clean white t-shirt he felt relieved to pull the gray, bloodied and dirty one over his head with a faint smile of "Thanks."

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