Of Love and Hate: A Tale of Enemies
Author's Note: This is a continuation of the Of Love and Hate series. The first in the series, A Tale of Arch-Nemeses, focused on Peter and Sylar and their adventures in the land of Merlin, Camelot and Prince Arthur. The very same earthquake that brought them there also brought Matt and Mohinder, now bitter enemies, to the time of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. This is set five years after the events of Heroes and at the beginning of Romeo and Juliet. Expect slash and complete changes. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Romeo and Juliet
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You are going down, Matt!
Never! You do not have the power to defeat me, little man!
Matt and Mohinder glared at each other, participating in one of the world's first bitchfights using only the power of the mind. Although Matt was by far the most powerful Mohinder, since he'd plunged that needle into his skin, had had heightened senses and this included above average mind powers. Not as powerful as Matt's but they did the trick.
Mohinder, when he had a breather (very rare, though), sometimes wondered why Matt, who was obviously the more powerful, didn't squish him like the bug he thought he was (and, now he came to think of it, once was). He dismissed it in true male fashion – clearly Matt wasn't as powerful as he thought he was. Right.
They rarely had time to watch the others – telepathic bitchfights are very tiring and use all of your concentration – and anyway they were very interesting.
Mohinder thought about Matt constantly. He remembered their time together like, he'd tell everyone, it had been some sort of nightmare. He spouted out things like, "How could I...with that bastard?" Yes, he even said the ellipses. Secretly he wondered what had gone wrong and punished himself for the Maya Incident (he knew he was weak, plus he'd had that corrupted formula running through his veins). Really, that must have been why Matt had left him for that blonde speedster. It must be.
Matt, on the other hand, didn't talk about his relationship with Mohinder at all. He thought about him a lot though, much more than he did Daphne. This made him incredibly guilty and the only way, he'd found, to counteract the guilt was to pound on Mohinder with his mind. It was actually pretty fun. Somehow he knew he'd never hurt him but he loved the expression on Mohinder's face when he thought he might. Damn hilarious, it was.
Matt had suppressed everything after Daphne's death. All the pain, all the grief. He'd just buried it down deep. He could do that. He knew how to manipulate the mind, especially his own. And then with the collapse of the Souhaiter Organisation, the death of Janice and the disappearance of Matt Jr., everything – all of his carefully designed shields – had collapsed as if they were nothing.
That was why he'd joined up with Sylar, Elle, Adam and Lyle. Their lives had been as devastated by the Organisation's collapse as his was. Maybe even more so, particularly with Lyle, whose entire existence had been tied into the Organisation. He'd started it from scratch, after all, brought into all the members too. It was nice being around people whose lives were as fucked up as his was.
Matt, how could you betray us like that?
Matt sighed. Although he did enjoy pounding on Mohinder, their actual words were beginning to get just the tiniest bit stale. Mohinder was always going on about betrayal and blah de blah.
The mother of my son died! My son disappeared! What did you expect?
How many times must he remind Mohinder of these very important points?
Then the earth began to shake.
Oh dear.
Matt, considering the occasion, decided that this was one of the only moments he'd ever agree with Mohinder. He'd never actually say anything, though. He'd just, you know, agree silently.
The earth continued shaking and, now that their concentration had been interrupted, they noticed that one by one their companion vanished.
"What the hell...?" Mohinder spluttered.
Then they too vanished, to reappear in a street. It seemed to be a perfectly ordinary street. Paved with cobblestones rather than tar but still nothing too out of the ordinary.
Two men approached them. They were laughing and trying to talk through their laughter. Their names were Samson and Gregory.
It took Matt a moment to realise what they were talking about. He screwed up his face in disgust. What assholes. Now he understood why Elle sometimes said, "Men," in that tone of hers, a tone he'd never heard anyone use before. He felt like using it himself at this moment.
Before he could the two spotted another two men, whose names were Abraham and Benjamin. From their sudden change in stance Matt – and even Mohinder – could tell that they did not like each other.
They were close enough to hear what they were saying by now. They listened in astonishment. It was like listening to a conversation spoken in a foreign language – you understood some of the words but the entire gist of the conversation flew right by you.
"What did he just say?" Mohinder said, his animosity gone for the time being. "Something about biting your thumb?"
Matt shrugged, as confused as Mohinder was. "I think," he said hesitantly as he read their minds, "that means they're quarrelling...or something." He stopped as certain key pieces of information flitted into his head. "They're the Capulet and Montague serving men!"
Mohinder looked even more confused. "You've got to be kidding me."
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Well, I hoped you liked that. Reviews are the food of my soul and thus review, please.