seekevolution | Summer

Summer

Though Mohinder didn't buy into the saying that there could be such a thing as love at first sight, the way that Simon Petrelli looked at Molly when they were first introduced made him reconsider and then immediately close his thoughts so Matt wouldn't worry. Mohinder gently pulled her long hair back from her shoulder so his hand could rest upon it, Molly in a bright red and yellow sundress,and said shoulder covered by a small yellow half jacket. They'd both been pleased to find it at Walmart on the drive up from Fort Lee to Maine, taking the long, scenic route even though Peter had offered them a chance to teleport.

Why teleport when they could have more time together and see the country? Molly needed a little break away from enclosed spaces and the forests along their mountain roads in New York and at the southern border of Canada was just the ticket.

Of course, there had been blighted areas, places where the virus had broken out, or worse, where communities had closed their doors and grown violent. They had just guided their black SUV around the problem areas and stuck to rural hotels on the interstate.

Now, standing in the foyer of what looked like another hotel and yet, knowing it was a family summer retreat, Mohinder could feel Molly yearning to go explore...and the eldest of Peter's nephews more than willing to guide her.

They were both the same age. They'd both been without playmates (what nearly twelve year old counts their brother as a playmate?) for a long while. Mrs. Petrelli, gracious despite her furtive glances at Matt, finally gave them the go head. "Show Molly to her room. Gently, Simon. She's not one of your trucks." Molly glanced back up at Mohinder and he nodded.

"I'll come find you shortly."

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Yeah, that did absolutely nothing to help Matt's ... not fears, not quite, but he was mostly silent as he helped Mohinder up the stairs, not sure what he was anticipating but anticipating something. "Not here" was code for "this is serious" and Matt did very much take serious to mean bad news.

They'd miss Molly some time into this discussion since they'd closed the door to their room, but she found her way down the stairs fine and despite feeling tired and looking a little pale, she enjoyed breakfast with the Petrellis. She didn't say as much as she usually did but still smiled brightly at Simon and Peter when they cracked their stupid little jokes.

Matt on the other hand felt increasingly concerned when Mohinder touched him like that, because normally that gesture meant companionship or a flirtation, but this time it was tentative.

"What are you talking about? What novelty?" he asked, feeling honestly confused before something in Mohinder's mind spiked and Matt's eyes widened. "You? ... sorry, Mohinder, but what's going on?"

Now was absolutely not the time to have this discussion it turned out. Mohinder couldn't even keep his own thoughts straight let alone try to convey them in any meaningful way to Matt right now. Mohinder pressed his fingers a little might tightly around the larger man's knee and almost fell out of his seat.

Broken teeth? Not graceful.

"I get worried. You-- You are brilliantly amazing. The time I spend with you-- But there's just a part of me that feels like I can't be enough for you and I'm probably going to throw up now."

When was the last time that happened, Matt? The last time someone got drunk because they were afraid of losing you?

Never. So Matt didn't even realize that's what this was - he felt confused and baffled but kicked himself into action to catch Mohinder and put the words aside for later. He gripped one of Mohinder's forearms and guided him to the bathroom, where he only moments later found himself rubbing soothing circles over the younger man's back through his shirt.

Throwing up was never anything pretty, but Matt had handled enough drunks over the years to not be especially fazed.

"You're such a lightweight", he said in a soft tone that bordered on tender when he poured Mohinder a glass of water and handed it over after a few minutes. "Better?"

He moved some of Mohinder's curls away from his face when his hand was free but his own gaze was still a little distant.

Oh God, why did he drink? Why did one little cola splashed with rum turn into some sort of contest to see who could drink the most? Mohinder knew that Peter just wasn't capable of getting drunk and he still felt some sort of way about matching each glass! He flushed the toilet often and rinsed his mouth out when the contents of his stomach was in the pipes.

"Better," he whispered, hand on the toilet seat and temple pressed against Matt's chest. "Though certainly I feel more foolish," he promised. No more drinking. No more feeling sorry for himself simply because there could be circumstances he couldn't change.

"Peter told me," he said, fielding a belch that brought the sting of acid to his throat, "that I should have better self-esteem." And he laughed, softly. "You're the best thing in my life. You and Molly. I don't have a good track record of holding onto that sort of feeling."

Matt had a hand at the back of Mohinder's neck, a small weight with fingers just curled into his hairline, and he had his chin balanced on top of the curls as the younger man spoke. He was about to tease that really, Mohinder was kind of foolish, but then there were those other words that Matt understood all too well and he didn't.

"Yeah", he said instead, "that makes two of us."

People ... left. That's what they did, what he'd figured out when he was just a boy, and even though these thoughts weren't often that conscious Matt still had the feeling pretty often. But he kept it at bay, held the positives down and enjoyed them as long as he could manage. Maybe in that respect him and Mohinder were more similar than they thought.

"Peter's probably not wrong, by the way", he added after a moment with a sort of half laugh. "You realize you're way out of my league, right?"

"You're crazy," Mohinder said, taking Matt's pale, wide hand in his own. He lightly pressed the webbing between thumb and forefinger before he settled his own palm across his boyfriend's. Matt's could swallow his up and that was a very safe feeling. Even sitting on the floor in the bathroom felt safe at the moment. It stopped the room from spinning so terribly.

Out of his league? Mohinder's mind threaded around the concept before he stopped mid thought and lifted his chin to look up at Matt. He missed the stubble actually. Clean shaven Matt was still wonderful, but the rugged, manliness-- That's what kept bothering him.

"Unless you mean that you league...tends to have a different set of genitalia."

Matt drew back a little in order to meet Mohinder's eyes. His thoughts were still fuzzy but gaining in focus and even though Matt knew he was usually allowed in Mohinder's head, he kept his distance for the moment. Noting the feel of his thoughts but not listening to the words.

"That's what you mean, novelty?" Matt shook his head and dropped his hand from the nape of Mohinder's neck to run it through his own hair. It was something he tended to do when uncertain or agitated, but he didn't let go of Mohinder's hand with his other one. "What, you think I might be in some kind of- phase? Really?"

He'd considered that, back when they'd started the tentative thing that was their relationship, but after New York he didn't have any doubts. So why would Mohinder?

"Not think-- I'd rather hope not..." It was just that, sometimes, Mohinder thought the worst. Feared the worst. Especially because his mind was inactive. He had more time to dwell. A month apart had not dwindled Matt's affections for him. Not in the slightest. Why should peace do the same when they actually had time to be close to one another?

Mohinder didn't mean to pout but thatwas just what he was doing. Pouting. He laid his cheek against Matt's shoulder and laced their fingers together.

"Perhaps it's madness," he remarked. But Mohinder had been violently jealous when they first arrived too. He truly did not believe that he could hold onto Matt in the long run.

He pulled Matt's fingers to his mouth and kissed the tips of each one in turn before he sighed.

"We finally have a moment of peace and I keep thinking that I'll lose you. It's not sane."

"It's not true, either", Matt said immediately and although his tone wasn't forceful it did have a firmness behind it that clearly said not to question the words. Mohinder would never lose him. Matt wasn't unrealistic - they might break up, go their separate ways, sure, even if he hoped that'd never happen. But it wouldn't be loss, not in that sense. Mohinder would have to all but kick him out the door if he were to leave. He was sure of that.

He squeezed Mohinder's hand, fingertips pleasantly buzzing minutely from the touch of his lips, and moved his free hand to tilt Mohinder's face up for a kiss. He couldn't taste the bile but the younger man's breath was understandably bad, but Matt was making a statement, not about to go down on him.

"I love you, okay? Just ... try to trust me."

Mohinder's hand on Matt's chest did serve to push him back after a moment and he covered his grinning mouth with one hand. Oh, that must have been horrible, he thought to himself, but here Matt was, smiling at him, willing to kiss him. And that was enough for now.

He was loved. He loved in return. And they had what would hopefully be a long, happy relationship.

"I do trust you," Mohinder replied. "And I do love you." Oh, if only he could tell his brain to turn off the worry circuit! He ended up going to bed and sleeping in, which suited everyone else just fine. Molly, brighter than the day before, got to spend some quality time with Matt, after all. She'd had a lot of one on one time with Mohinder lately and she craved some of Matt's attention now.

The summer dragged on, and for a little while, everything seemed to be at peace.

If there was one thing Matt and Mohinder would learn it really was that peace wasn't anything permanent. Because it never was. There were a lot of false starts to happiness and the first sign of things falling apart this next time was a few weeks later when Molly didn't want to get out of bed.

She had been a bit ... off, for a time. But it hadn't been anything that you couldn't overlook or explain in other ways. Oh, she's exhausted, it was a long day - it's a growth spurt, poor thing - hormones, puberty - a misunderstanding between her and Simon, the list went on.

But when Matt came to brush her hair away from her face when she hadn't gotten up yet that morning and she snuggled further into the sheets, looking pale, that was the first time he actually felt worried.

He gnawed at his lip for a moment before he went back down for breakfast where the rest of them were seated. Mohinder next to Peter, of course - they'd been doing that a lot lately, smiling and laughing. Frankly, Matt was getting fed up with it, but it wasn't exactly his business and he buried the edge he felt about it really well.

"Mohinder", he said, touching his shoulder and inclining his head upstairs, not at all unhappy to interrupt whatever he and Peter were talking about. "Come on, I think she's sick or something."

"Molly?" Yes, he'd been a bit busy to notice. He'd never been all that flakey but the summer heat was just coming to an end and cooler nights were starting up. It was still warm enough to swim but the mornings were getting just a little chilly to go out on the balcony with coffee without a dressing gown or a sweatshirt on like it had been in July.

In two weeks, Molly would start school again, but Mohinder seemed less concerned about that and more concerned with teaching Peter Hindi. Or Tamil. Or talking with Heidi in French. He read. He sunbathed...

He stopped spending every single moment with Matt. And that was probably a good thing, it meant that their relationship was less tied up in each other and ready to breathe and accept others into their tight circle, but not even that occurred to Mohinder.

At least he didn't shoo Matt off. He was up immediately, excusing himself. Heidi asked if Molly was all right and Mohinder just smiled politely. "Perhaps it return to school jitters," he said but followed quickly on Matt's heels. "Why didn't you come get me sooner?"

It was a stupid question. Mohinder plucked at Matt without realising it was doing it.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sorry, I'll work on my precognition until next time." Where that might normally have been teasing it was now terse, but he still had a hand pressed between Mohinder's shoulder blades as they went since his instict was still to keep a semblance of contact between them when he could.

The drifting hadn't really occured to Matt in quite a conscious way, either. He found his temper a little shorter these days but he figured they were just coming out of the honeymoon bliss whatever it was they'd been rolled up in. It was normal, honestly. And for the first time in months and months he was comparing Mohinder to Janice, because this was starting to settle into the kind of territory he'd had with her.

But he had more faith in Mohinder than he'd ever had with her, so those thoughts were still fleeting and far between.

"She doesn't have a fever or anything", he said as they went up the stairs. "But she's not really talking to me and just ... she looks really tired."

And sure enough, they'd find Molly like Matt had left her just minutes earlier, curled up beneath the blankets with her eyes halfway closed. She'd said that she was fine, she just wanted to sleep some more, but that's precisely what had Matt worried. She was usually the first one to rise.

Mohinder wasn't a doctor, not that sort at least, but he could tell that she didn't have a fever just the same. He decided to be sure with a thermometer but it beeped and read that while a little warm, she was no where near an elevated temperature. He tried to question her too, let Matt do the same, and held her hand even when she tried to push them both away.

Moody. Whiny. Mohinder wasn't really sure what the problem was. They hadn't missed her birthday or a holiday. Nor the anniversary of her parent's--

That did give Mohinder pause. Could it be catching up with her finally?

Later, after her forehead was kissed and Mohinder shooed Matt out of the girl's room and closed the door to their own, Mohinder decided he had all the answers. "She's never grieved. It's been one thing after another. I think she just needs the time."

And, actually, he's a little afraid. He doesn't know how to deal with this. For himself, he'd just want to be alone. Or solving mysteries. It's all he knows.

Matt gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, looking uneasy. It seemed sensible, really. That didn't make it any easier, and he ran a hand through his hair in that way Mohinder would've seen about a hundred times by now, then sighed heavily.

"Yeah, okay."

Time. Sure. What else could you do about grief? Nothing, right? Time heals all wounds, all that?

"I guess that would be better than anything else. I asked her if she'd been having nightmares, but ... Christ, she hasn't really been thinking about her parents that I know of, though", he said with an air of helplessness.

So at least they had that in common. Equal parts fear. He looked up at Mohinder, shaking his head.

"You think we should just leave her alone?"

Mohinder glanced at Matt the way he'd been doing a lot lately. It was somewhat condedencing. Somewhat glazed over annoyance. He'd often fought with Matt, but he'd never felt so resentful of him and honestly Mohinder had no idea why. He didn't even bother to ask himself why he was so hesitant to be as affectionate with Matt as he had been. His thoughts could not have triggered anything strange in Matt's consciousness either. Maury knew how to cover his tracks.

"Have you been reading her mind?"

All of a sudden, that just seemed very important. Mohinder had long since stopped worrying about Matt's prying. He had nothing to hide. And yet, this very thought rattled him so feircely he actually started to purposefully think in Hindi again.

Were they slipping? Could relaxation do this to them too?

Could they already be in a rut?

Matt gave Mohinder a look that went very quickly from surprise to defensive anger. Of course he'd read her mind. Mohinder did science, Molly found people, and Matt read minds. This had been a problem initially but both of them had gotten used to having just as many conversations with him out loud as in their heads, and Matt made an effort to not listen in on anything personal and he fully respected any attempts to block him out and they all knew this.

Why Mohinder would pick now to yell at him for it made no sense at all, and his jaw set as he shot him a glare.

"Not without her fucking permission, Mohinder, who the hell do you think I am? I keep an ear out. For both of you. That's never been a problem before!"

Perhaps realising how crazy that had sounded, Mohinder dropped his eyes and backed down. He couldn't find a switch to flick to make it all right again but he could calm himself down about it. "You're right," he tried, as calmly as possible, reaching out to set his hand on Matt's chest as he'd done for months now. "You're right. It seems...like an invasion. She doesn't care to speak with us, I'd rather not cause her to dislike us too."

Mohinder looked deflated and kept his gaze more or less lowered even as he dropped his hand. He didn't apologise, however. It wasn't that he was incapable, but he has a vaguely superior way about him these days that amounted to quite a lot of shredding between whatever bond they'd forged of need and lust and want of a family.

"This could all just be moody teenager talking. We're both a bit young to deal with a girl her age. It will take some getting use to."

Matt deflected that hand, however reassuring it tried to be, by raising his own in front of his chest in the unspoken signal of 'don't' before he turned around to pace the room. He didn't mind Mohinder touching him. Hell, he liked very much when Mohinder touched him, but suggesting he used his abilities in any morally deprived way was a sore spot. That, and in a moment of clarity that touch served to emphasize that they'd been touching less frequently the past few weeks.

"We've been getting used to this for almost a year", he pointed out. "Can't just be that. It's never that simple. Oh no, our lives don't get to be that easy."

Which might have been sort of funny if it wasn't so damn aggravating and scary.

"Can you think of a single time things actually had a totally normal explanation? For anything we've been through? Just one instance. Any one."

Nothing could be as hurtful as being denied Matt. Mohinder kept his mouth shut when his touch was denied and pressed his lips together in a full, straight line. He would not vocalise his discomfort now, but later, alone with Peter, he would talk about how disconnected he felt.

From Matt. From Molly. From everything. He didn't feel like the man he'd been a year ago. In fact, he wasn't the same man he'd been before the outbreak. Or who he'd been when he and Molly found Matt in New York after a month apart.

Now that scared him and the fear was palpable.

"There's simply no such thing as normal for people like us. Perhaps, once upon a time, yes. But if we were still normal, you'd be with Janice, welcoming a child. I'd be in India, lecturing people that don't care what I'm teaching." And perhaps we'd be happy.

Matt stopped in his tracks and turned to Mohinder with a very wary expression. He tried not to make a habit of reading minds in situations like these. Tense ones, argumentative ones - it gave him an unfair advantage and the chance to throw around a lot more accusations than anyone else. But Mohinder had made it clear so many times that he was fine with the mental communication. The awareness. That meant Matt wasn't consciously monitoring himself as well as he probably should or could have.

So when that thought broke away from the rest, stood out just by virtue of being English amid everything that wasn't, Matt had to pause. Had to consider that. But he didn't know what to say about it so instead he found himself sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

"Great", he said gruffly, not really offering any context. But Mohinder would probably piece it together that he'd heard. The implication was what was a punch in the gut - the way it really said, I'm not happy.

Mohinder wasn't happy. Was that it?

Was Matt happy?

Of course he was. He had no reason not to be. Right?

He moved his hands, blocking out the world by rubbing the heels of them over his eyes.

"I can't- I don't ... I get that we're not normal", he said, voice muffled for a moment. "I get that. Especially me, right? But I still want this. Even if it's insane."

The underlying plea being, please don't be unhappy. Please.

Though he'd wanted to hold his ground, to be allowed to remain angry, seeing Matt like this, hearing the break in the back of his throat, and puzzling out the words caused Mohinder to drop the pretense. He couldn't just hurt someone because he'd been hurt. That wasn't just unfair, it was outright cruel.

He moved to stand in front of Matt and when the larger man didn't so much as glance up at him, he knelt to be sure that dark eyes would meet his own. And if they didn't, lips would surely touch lips. Even if it was ever so gently.

"I didn't... Matt, what I said, I didn't entirely mean that." He'd acted out of anger. It happened so often lately.

Mohinder slipped his hands into Matt's and sighed.

"I don't know how, but lack of stress seems to be making me feel even more stressed."

Matt allowed his hands to be taken and allowed the very brief, not actually all that reassuring but still somewhat soothing kiss. When Mohinder caught his eyes he held that gaze. It was important that they be honest with each other, he knew that. But he wasn't sure how to articulate what it was that had him feeling on edge.

What he didn't say was that it wasn't so much about what Mohinder had said but what he'd been thinking. And that was unfair, because there were reasons people didn't say what they were thinking out loud and thoughts often were impulsive and fleeting but the thing was that in Matt's experience, they were always true. Even if just for a short second and never again, they were true in that moment.

And that was already eating at him.

So maybe he wouldn't get all that far with the honesty thing right then.

He sort of smiled though as Mohinder tried to explain. Shook his head, squeezed his boyfriend's hands. "What, you need drama?" he asked in a way that made it sound like a legitimate question and not mockery. He knew the kind, had met a few of them, knew about them especially. Some people thrived in those situations. Matt knew he could handle them but he usually wasn't one of them. He only endured drama if he had to for the sake of something else. He didn't like it or need it to be happy. But that wasn't an inconsolable difference, was it?

"Maybe you should work again, then. Like ... maybe this is all cabin fever. For all of us."

Maybe they should get away from the Petrellis for a while.

"I ought to find some work," Mohinder admitted, though he had more money now than he knew what to do with thanks to Pinehearst. It wasn't the pay he required, though. His mind was inactive. The Petrellis did not have a great library to read from and even if they did, they weren't his sorts of books. He dropped his cheek to Matt's knee in a supplicating gesture and closed his eyes. "Something out here...perhaps teaching in a high school."

The man that found a way to nullify the great plague working in a high school? That seemed horrible.

Out here, however, there was little other opportunity. Even so, it was safe. Safety in exchange for a little boredom had to be something to trade for.

Mohinder was willing to do it to a degree.

"I just don't think I'm cut out for holiday."

Matt released one of Mohinder's hands in order to gently push his fingers through his hair. Mohinder often was like a big cat and Matt didn't mind petting him like one most of the time, but there was something a little more distant and mechanical about the action than there usually was right then.

Looking out the window, Matt listened, but he wasn't sure if he was paying the right kind of attention. Because he wasn't sure what they were even talking about. It was clear in the words, but there was ... something about the two of them too. Of course. But there was something buried about it. It got lost in the logic of the rest.

"Yeah, maybe not", he agreed quietly. Then he surprised himself by saying, "You could go back to Pinehearst, right? Or, I don't know. The university. I'm sure they have lots of work for you. I mean, you kinda ... went into hiding. We could move", he added lamely, unsure of what he was really saying. Realizing he was stumbling a little, rambling.

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