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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Luke seemed to have two options here. One, tell Matt what he knew and be left behind again or two, try to pull the same stunt he had with Sylar, stringing him along until he was sure he'd be taken with. Trouble was that even if they got to the cabin where Samson Gray once told Luke he liked to go, Sylar would be long gone. Samson would too, likely. It had been weeks ago that Sylar had thrown Luke around the diner and left him like a little lost lamb, bleeding and bruised and in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"I don't know where he is," Luke said, deciding to be forthcoming...for the moment. He was still unsure about Matt and even if he was, he couldn't help but lie. He lied for no reason at all. It was ingrained in him. "I know where he was headed. If you're not with the Company then why do you even-- Oh. The whole serial killer thing?"

Luke was very casual about it, picking up the burger and heating it back up without a flinch. Shit. He sucked dick for a meal. Finishing some dude's half eaten sandwich didn't bother him one fucking bit.

"Did he kill one of your friends? Yanno. He's like damaged goods. Seriously fucked up in the head. But hey. If I could do what he could do I would be fucked up in the head too. How is that mind reading working out for you? Are you fucked up too?"

Already Luke had changed his posture to match Matt's.

Edited 2014-04-10 12:36 (UTC)

Matt resisted telling Luke that he was fucked up, because that didn't actually seem very conductive to anything, but he still thought it. But the other reason he didn't say anything was because the question had hit a nerve. He'd sure felt fucked up, that much was certain.

But he was nowhere near what Sylar was. Mohinder might have implied a not yet, but that still meant that he still wasn't. Good enough, he figured. But there were other priorities here than that kind of introspection.

"Even if I was, that's none of your business", he said flatly, not wanting to defend himself to a teenager. Even if it had been more of an honest question than anything accusatory. Matt's reaction had more to do in equal parts the fact that he was asked at all and his reluctance in properly facing what had gone down before this bizarre meeting. Just under two days and he already felt the denial mixed with resignation. "Luke, right? Want to tell me why 'the serial killer thing' doesn't seem to bother you?"

He could figure out why, but he wanted to hear the reasoning.

Not exactly impressed by Matt's show of intimidation (it was hard after all to be intimidated by big men when he could do all sorts of things to them from a distance), Luke just watched him scowl. His attempt to play off a flat faced stoicism wasn't really doing much to impress the teenager either. Luke wasn't trying to push buttons for once, he was simply interested at the man behind the facade questioning him.

"Yeah, Luke. Don't go by that any more actually. My dad's name was Luke too and that prick-- Haha, you know what? Doesn't matter. Luke's fine, whatever." He'd been going by Gabe at the carnival. Little wonder why actually.

He shoved half a plate of fries into his mouth, legs hollow like most teenage boys, and reached for the soda Matt probably wasn't going to touch anymore any way.

"Duh, man. Why the fuck would I be afraid of him? Why would he bother me? We were partners," he lied, but there was some sweet little memory there too.. Luke had gotten Sylar's back...and Sylar came back for him in the end.

Yeah, Matt wasn't going to call him Gabe if he could help it. And whatever name Luke preferred, Matt wasn't actively trying to intimidate him, it was just something ingrained. Come to think of it, it had probably settled properly when he'd been Luke's age; only way to make people take him seriously.

Which is what made him figure that Luke acting so flippant might be a way for him to shield the world away or try to scare it off. Well, assuming he wasn't fucked up. There was still something so very off in his mind that couldn't possibly be something positive.

"Sylar doesn't have partners", Matt said pointedly, watching the kid eat. "Sylar? Is a sick fuck who kills people like you."

Yeah, he could sense the memory, was tapping into it, but couldn't quite believe what he saw there. Luke could've very well made it up. He got these puppy dog eyes when talking about Sylar and that was disturbing, if both tragic and confusing.

"Sylar's a sick fuck, I'll give you that," Luke said, smiling with as much horrible charm as Sylar himself. That grin was not Luke's own, it was the mirror image of the one Sylar had given to Matt when he teased him about liking the way Mohinder sounded when he was in pain. "But he's got a reason. It's survival of the fittest. You do what you do because it's like literally who you are. Same with me. Same with him. It's like being mad at a killer whale for munching on a Seaworld trainer or some dolphins. Shit man, it's what he does."

And if Sylar didn't have partners, how did Matt explain Luke? If Sylar ate people like him for lunch, why was Luke eating his dinner right now, inhaling it faster than anyone ought to be able to?

The last fry was drenched in ketchup and Luke flagged down the waitress to get a chocolate milk. He hadn't been talking low enough really and she'd heard him going on about killers. It did not endear him to her and she had half a mind to call the police. It was on a loop in her mind as she stared at Matt for the OK on the milk.

Luke ignored her.

"I'm still here, dude. Here and happy. Hello there. Sylar might be a killer whale and I might just be some seal or penguin but you know what? He saw something in me. Bet you can too. You're a lot like him. I can tell."

Matt hated that smile. Really, truly hated it, because it took him a while to place even if it unnerved him, but recognising it didn't take any edge off it at all. It was nowhere near as effective in Luke's face, of course. But the reminder was there and made the whole thing real. Sylar's reappearance. Fucking hell.

Keeping his eyes firmly on Luke, Matt mentally kept pace with what he was saying, confirming every word with facts right there in his head. He really didn't have a problem, was the verdict. Really didn't care, really thought about it that way.

What was he supposed to do with this kid? He was a nutcase, but Matt wasn't sure why or how, and he was dangerous, but he also had information. Matt knew what he'd have to do, which was keep an eye on him for the time being, but what to actually do with him, how to treat him? That'd be a little mystery all on its own.

He did know one thing, though - it probably wouldn't do them any good to get the cops in there. He did it reluctantly, but he eased the woman's mind and okayed Luke's order.

Kid was dangerous. He might very well kill if he felt cornered - or just for the heck of it - and Matt didn't want any unnecessary attention drawn anywhere near this location with Sylar out there.

And then he almost made her call the cops anyway, when Luke provoked him like that.

Matt bristled. Immediately. Hackles raised, lips pulled back in half a snarl, his hands pressed against the surface of the table.

"I'm nothing like him", he growled, and then snapped, "and if that's what you want from me, I want you out of my sight. Now."

"Dude, all I want from you is this sandwich, that chocolate milk and a ride to wherever it is you want to leave me." He didn't have any expectations beyond that. "If you want me to help you find Sylar? That I can do. But you have to give me food." He didn't bring up the innuendo again. Luke was beyond asexual but he knew that sometimes you had to trade pieces of yourself to get ahead. He could lay back and get fucked or give a handjob if he had to, but he'd rather not have to.

The emotions he had for Sylar might be love and even some sort of misguided affection but it was not sexual. It was so much more than physical. It was almost spiritual.

"So calm yourself down, lard pop. It was suppose to be a fucking compliment anyway."

The waitress returned a few minutes later with the chocolate milk and put it down hard enough that it sloshed a little over the glass. She didn't apologize, she just fled.

Dark, evil thoughts crept up in Luke's head. He'd gotten very good with his abilities. Plastic melted. Water boiled. Hair? Hair smouldered.

Pubic hair smouldered the best. He smirked at the thought, lifting his hand as Sylar did.

Matt immediately reached out and slammed Luke's hand down with his own with enough force to shake the table. Keeping him trapped there, he was in his face half a second later, leaning forward and staring Luke down, forcibly keeping eye contact as he planted the thought.

You don't want to hurt her. You don't want to hurt anyone in here. You can't hurt them. You won't.

It was nowhere near as subtle as he could've made it, but Matt wanted Luke to know that he'd had his thoughts and intentions rearranged. Might make him think twice about it all. Hell, might make him watch his tongue.

Because Matt's patience was already wearing thin. A compliment? No. No, no such thing. Being likened to Sylar could never be positive and hit too many nerves right now for Matt to even want to touch, even to reject the idea. He wanted nothing about it in his head. Nothing.

Leaning back into his chair as he released Luke from his hold, he crossed his arms over his chest and let that hard look turned into an outright glare, but said nothing. Waited to see how Luke would take to that particular trick.

Luke was in utter, absolute awe of Matt. His breath caught in his throat as he blinked up at the much older man, almost as if he could not believe what was happening. And, truly, he couldn't. Being made aware of what Matt was doing was like frosting on a cake. He'd thought the telepathy was cool, but it was so much more. It could be things even Sylar couldn't hope for.

"Dude, that's... Jesus, that's seriously amazing. Why the hell are you sitting around in this stupid diner? You could literally be doing any fucking thing you want! If I had that power I would be ruling the fucking world."

No, actually. That wasn't what Luke would be doing. He'd be tracking down Sylar and forcing the man to stay with him. To teach him.

As pathetic as it sounded in the kid's head, all that Luke wanted was to be accepted. Not changed. Just understood.

Matt rolled his eyes, crossing his arms tighter, shielding himself from the very idea. "Yeah, well, did you take a look at the world lately?"

It wouldn't be much to rule, all torn up and still not recovered from the virus. Not that Matt had ever had that aspiration and would ever strive for domination. While Luke just wanted to be accepted, Matt just wanted to have peace, and there would be no peace in ruling anything.

Not to mention how scary it was, having all of that in his head. He could do any fucking thing he wanted. That was the problem.

Luke, thinking about Sylar again, refocused his attention on him. He wasn't actively listening, but he kept an ear out. The name was there too often. Maybe not in a thought word, but still the imprint of it, the touch of it in Luke's head.

"When I find Sylar, I'm putting him down", Matt said darkly. "I'll take that over ruling the world any day."

No bitterness, no distress...there was nothing at all about Luke that signaled that he would be angry at Matt for 'putting Sylar down.' There wasn't even a thought about how he might save him as he had at the diner. Luke had grown from a troubled kid to a murderer to sideshow carnie much, much too quickly. Sylar had liberated him but also left him.

Just like his dad did. Just like Sampson Gray did. Just like his mother wished she could.

"You do what you have to do," Luke replied with a shrug. "I don't think he'll be that easy. I saw him take a dozen bullets and keep on dancing. I mean, even if you could make him do anything you fucking wanted, you'd have to get to him first. Is that even possible?"

He sort of wanted it to be.

Sylar should get hurt for leaving him. They would have been so good together.

"So what's the deal, dad? What can I do to help you out?"

Okay. So at least Luke didn't have a misguided allegiance to the psychopathic serial killer he'd briefly idolized. That helped, even if it was still kind of ... not concerning, Matt had no right calling it that. But there was something very disconcerting about Luke's complete lack of interest or response.

Or wait, it wasn't complete. There was that notion of punishment. And the detachment it had made it even spookier.

But Matt wasn't truly on edge until Luke called him dad, even if he couldn't figure out why the hell that struck a nerve. He just knew that it did.

"It's Matt", he said immediately, but not without some reluctance. He didn't particularly want Luke to be familiar enough to start using his name in the way Matt had a feeling he would, but there was no way he'd let him come up with his own nicknames like that. "The deal is, you help me put and end to the son of a bitch, you get fed. That's about what you wanted, isn't it?"

Matt. Luke preferred that to 'dad' anyhow. His father was a piece of shit and if he knew where he was, he'd probably slowly cook him. The thought, unlike the others revolving around violence, did not make Luke smile. There was a trigger point there. Should Matt wish to find it, he would, easily.

Sometimes it was just better not to get involved with the minds of the criminally insane, however.

Luke finished his milk before looking up and shrugged. "We're both going to die," he said plainly enough. "Both of us. And slowly. I've never seen him do it, whatever it is that lets him do what we do, but I know it's a bloody mess. And I know he likes to play with us first."

Sylar already admitted that when he told Matt he loved to listen to Mohinder cry.

"But hey, if you're game, I'm game. I can keep your coffee warm too and we don't even have to wait in line for the microwave if we want those stupid burritos at gas stations."

Matt noticed, but didn't dig for any details. So there was something with the father. Honestly? It hardly surprised him. Seemed like everyone he'd run into since his whole mind thing had started had daddy issues, himself included.

And similarly, yeah no, what Luke was telling him about Sylar wasn't news. Matt's first touch with this crazy reality he found himself in was through him, through an impaled woman and a frozen man with his brain removed. Yeah, it was a bloody mess. But guess what? Matt had survived three brushes with that psychopath.

So fate or whatever seemed to be sticking up for him. At least for the moment.

"Right", he said after a moment, not bothering to tell Luke what he was thinking about. "Great. Look, I'm gonna make a call. Here's twenty. Make sure you pay."

He underlined that with a sharp look but no suggestion, wanting to see how Luke would perform given a task. That, and he still didn't want to rely too much on what he could do. Not after how easily it had turned so very damaging.

He hauled his cell phone out of his pocket and went outside, after some hesitation trying Mohinder's cell first. He got no answer, something that left him feeling a little more hollow and he leaned against the wall with a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment when he got to voicemail.

He didn't leave a message.

Instead he called Peter, or more accurately, the Petrelli home. Simon answered. He sounded sad.

"Hey, Simon. You wanna put your uncle on for me?"

Simon sighed but said his okay, and Matt waited for a few moments with a nervous energy drawing through him now when he had to focus, think. He pushed away from the wall and was pacing again.

"Peter", he said as soon as he heard the younger man's voice, barely waiting for him to actually greet him. "Peter, we've got a problem. Sylar's alive."

There's not complaining about how impossible it all was because Peter himself had died and come back. It seemed halfway to impossible, though, considering what he'd done to the body. No one ought to have been able to find it, but if Sylar's back, then they did. Peter closed his eyes for a second and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

"All right, so what do we do? Did you see him?"

He was trying to be as cool about this as he possibly could...which honestly wasn't a whole lot. Mohinder had taken Molly away just a few hours ago, just after Peter knew that Molly had spoken with Matt. They'd be nearly back to Jersey by now.

Though Peter didn't need a forwarding address to find them, thanks to Molly, he didn't want to. And he didn't want to call either. One could never be too careful. Not about this. He fumbled around for some paper and a pen to get down anything Matt might say or need him for.

Matt glanced back through the window at Luke, who was still there. "No, not me. I met this kid who says him and Sylar were buddy-buddy for a few days. Sounds insane, but either he's lying so well he believes it himself or he's telling the truth."

He sighed, shook himself out. He was grateful Peter was immediately with him on dealing with this - not that he'd expected anything else, because this was Sylar, for fuck's sake - but after what had happened there was the sense of doubt that Peter would choose Mohinder's side over Matt's. But Matt found himself falling back into the familiar rapport from New York all too easily when he said his piece.

"I don't know what's the best way to handle this, I mean- kid says he knows where he was headed but not where he is anymore. He's ... got a few screws loose, but says he'll help out if I keep him fed."

He scrubbed his hand over his face, then pushed it through his hair. "Honestly? I just want to hunt the son of a bitch down and make sure he stays dead this time, but I'm gonna need your help."

A few months ago he probably wold have blamed Peter more for his apparent failure than he'd have liked, but a lot had happened since Peter had lost his brother. To both of them.

"Everyone's safe here. The kids are starting school and my mom hasn't been trying to keep me away from or push me towards anything so I don't think she's had any dreams about it." And that was fortunate. Peter loved his mother, but she always tried to undermine him and even if she thought she knew best, he'd realized not too long ago that she really didn't.

Sitting on the edge of the edge of the counter, glass in hand but the milk already long forgotten, Peter tried to think of what he could do from here.

The answer? Nothing.

"Let me get the atlas and I'll come to you." What were the chances that some kid and Matt met up and the kid just happened to know what Sylar could do?

On the other end of the line he heard a banging sound. Luke was barging into the phone booth with Matt in it, handing over change.

"Left three bucks for tip. Who're you talking to?"

Peter stayed silent to let Matt have that other conversation if he wanted to.

"Don't tell me, you're fucking me over already!?" the kid shouted, eyes wide and scared.

Matt rolled his eyes and covered the phone with one hand when he turned towards Luke. On finding him looking genuinely upset, though, he paused for a moment, just looking at him. That was unexpected. But then again, maybe less than he'd figured.

"I'm not fucking over anybody but Sylar, so you can calm down, okay? But you said yourself it's not gonna be easy, so we need backup. Yeah?" He paused for a moment, making sure Luke was listening to him. "I'm talking to a friend. He'll help me out, which means you'll be helping him out. If that's gonna be a problem, you better tell me now."

There weren't any other terms involved, as far as Matt was concerned. They needed a hand, Peter was an excellent hand, and Luke could honestly take it or leave it; what Matt needed from him he could likely take from his head before he left, if it came to that. But if Luke wanted to stick around (and as little as Matt liked the prospect of what, taking care of him?, he knew it'd be better for most people if he did), he also needed to figure that he couldn't decide on all the rules.

The edges of the phone in Matt's hand felt warm. Softer than before. The pages of the phone book were curling. It was more humid inside of the booth for a split second before Matt talked Luke down, inadvertantly. Lowering his eyes and looking like he felt foolish, Luke shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever," he muttered and stepped back out onto the street, his eyes scanning the road from north to south.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. The sun had set but the colors in the sky were still violet and orange. He didn't get that. Yeah, it all had to do with science and perception and the cones or some shit in your eye but he still didn't really get it.

Picking at his sleeves, he let Matt finish his conversation.

"Everything okay over there?" Peter asked cautiously. "I'm just going to say goodbye to mom and Heidi and the kids, all right? Give me five minutes." Peter was already making a list of the things he'd need.

Matt took a look at the phone - still functioning, yeah, but definitely a little deformed around the edges. If it hadn't been clear enough before, this was yet another indication that Luke could cause damage if he wanted. He sighed, and pressed it to his hear again.

"Yeah, it's fine. I think he's got some abandonment thing", Matt remarked fairly dryly, shooting Luke another look as he was surveying the sky. It was a little edgier than it had to be, but Peter's voicing that he was going to say goodbye to his family made Matt miss his own even more. He was quiet for a moment, then added in a quieter tone, "see you in a few."

Hanging up, he joined Luke and the distant buzz and crackling in his mind, not saying anything to him but crossing his arms and standing to wait.

"So. Like...what's your friend like? Does he do what you do? Is that like masturbation?" He offered Matt a smile at that, but Luke didn't really have a pleasant smile. He didn't know how to make it hit his eyes and it always gave him a sort of surreal, demonic quality to his face.

When Matt didn't answer right away, Luke shrugged.

"Oh-kay," he dragged out and started towards the parking lot. "So...which car is yours? I'm going to guess that stupid yellow one there...or that black SUV." He sounded a little nervous again, but he clipped it off with a smirk. Black vans gave him nightmares still. He had no idea what had been planned for him when they took him...and he didn't actually want to know either. Sylar saved him from that fate.

He was still thinking that and waiting for Matt to answer when someone called Matt's name from behind them. Luke turned. There'd been no one there a moment ago. How could there be now?

Yeah, Luke really didn't have the whole social boundaries-thing down. But Matt was already finding himself desentisized towards it and although he set his jaw about it, he ignored it easily enough.

And tough luck, Luke, the car in question was red and parked right behind the black one, something Matt was about to reluctantly answer but was still going to when Peter showed up. Which, thank god, really. A familiar face was definitely a relief.

"Hey, Peter", he said. He didn't exactly approach - last time he'd seen him had been rough and even before that things had grown a little strained between them because of ... the whole thing with Mohinder, really - but he was still glad to see him.

Peter inclined his head towards Luke. "This is him?"

Matt nodded, looking at him too. "Yeah, that's Luke."

"Uh..dudes? No offense but 'Luke' is right fucking here," he remarked, arms loose at his sides for a moment before he slid one hand into his pocket the way that Matt sometimes stood. He did it unconsciously, copycatting his new 'Sylar' without meaning to. "Luke Campbell. Who the fuck are you?"

Charming. Peter offered his smile even if Luke seemed to bristle like an over protective dog. "Peter Petrelli."

Now that made Luke's head tilt. "Petrelli? Like that guy on the TV? The one with that virus? Shit man. You're not going to get us all killed are you?"

Peter repeated the thought to Matt, his face flattening. "Luckily, for your sake, no. You know Sylar?"

Now Luke relaxed. "Knew. Yeah, sorta. I think he was using me as like...emergency rations. Guess I turned his stomach or some shit."

"No offense, but show some respect", Matt said irritably. Going to get us all killed? If Luke had had any idea what him and Peter had gone through to try to prevent people from dying, to try to keep it contained in Odessa and then to protect people in New York after that had failed ... it wasn't fair to Peter. And it wasn't fair to Nathan, either.

The one with that virus? Yeah, fuck that. Nathan had been a friend and an ally and deserved more than that.

He went past them to get the roadmap from the car, then spread it out on the hood of it. Another trio roadtrip, like so many others in his life. Joy. They had a habit of not ending particularly well, had they? Aside some with Molly and Mohinder. But that was still up in the air.

"Okay, Luke." Both to draw his attention and to give him some. Clearly he wanted and needed to be seen. Fine, Matt could see him. He angled the map at him. "We want to know when and where you met him. Especially when", he added, glancing at Peter.

It was a worrying prospect, knowing Sylar was out there, but not what he'd managed to do during that time.

Luke was more than willing to talk. In fact, that was really all he wanted, Matt had been right about that. His fingers moved across the map, starting in Newark, New Jersey. He did pepper some of the story with lies, like how his mother beat him and how he was a recovering drug addict, but it was easier to overlook them then to point out that he knew. Luke seemed to find it more interesting to be caught than not to.

In fact, it kept getting him sidetracked.

The heart of the matter was, however, that not long after the cities ended their quarentines, Sylar had come looking for his father. Luke more or less accidentally saved him and they headed out on the road together to find Sansom Gray.

Right up until Sylar had a little breakdown of sorts and just left Luke where he was, in a diner that had not been used in at least a decade. "Stupid fucking toy car. Evidently it's like his kryptonite," Luke muttered.

Peter, ever the comic geek, had to speak up. "Kryptonite took away Superman's powers," he pointed out.

Luke gave him a once over and rolled his eyes. "Yeah well what the fuck ever."

Summer

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Yep. Passed out. Sorry about that.

no worries. c:

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