Mold Me
Matthew Parkman liked to think of himself as a just and kind man. He was a police officer, after all, and he was pretty good at his job, if he did say so. His dyslexia and solid build make most people look at him in disdain, thinking him an overweight idiot who had no idea what he was doing. But he wasn't an idiot, he was smart and quick thinking, able to get out of sticky situations quickly and easily, which was why he was such a valuable member of the police community. He was also a good friend and a good dad which, to him, were far more important than his job
But these things don't just happen overnight. There were many things, both big and small, leading up to the creation of Matt Parkman. There were some he wasn't entirely proud of, but he couldn't deny the sway they'd have over him. Nonetheless, there were five influences that stood out among the rest that had made him into the person he was today.
The first happened when he was eleven. He was out with his mum and dad, enjoying a rare sunny day at the park. He had been enjoying himself so much that he hadn't wanted to leave so it was late at night by the time they decided to head home. The moon was shaded by clouds and the dark was settling in around them eerily. He remembered holding tightly to both his parents' hands, scared by the stillness of the night and the ominous surrounding vegetation.
He had reason to be scared. They were just reaching the edge of the park when a man stepped out from the shadows. He was completely drunk and most likely stoned, he realizes now but at the time all he could see what the manic gleam in the man's eyes as he pulled a gun from behind his back and held it towards him.
His mother reacted quicker than anyone could, pushing him behind her roughly. He fell to the ground and tears came to his eyes as he glared up at her for hurting him. But he knew a minute later that by pushing him to the ground, his mother had saved his life. The bullet from the man's gun flew to where he had been standing only a moment before, burying itself deep into his mothers chest.
He remembers the confusion and panic he'd felt as she fell to the ground beside him. He remembers the horror that had over taken him when he had leaned over her, perplexed by the red seeping from her clothes, and he had stared into her glassy eyes and known his mother was dead. He remembers his father disarming the man and the sound of the ambulance rushing towards them but nothing else. The numbness was quick to seize its target and he felt nothing else as he let blackness over take him.
After that day he vowed that he would work as hard as he could to keep the streets of his city safe from the evil of some people.
Nothing had ever been the same after his mothers death. His father had tried as hard as he could to stay strong for him. They stayed in their old home, constantly reminded of the woman who had meant the world to each of them. He remembered when his father would sing him to sleep at night. He would sit by his bedside, keeping the nightmares away. Eventually, however, his father turned to the drink, the very thing that had caused his mother's death, and he just stopped trying.
The second thing happened just two years after the death of his mother. His father just gave up completely. He used to think it was because he wasn't good enough for him, that it was because he was failing at school, or because his father couldn't bear to see his face when it could have been his mother's staring back at him instead. Now however, he's come to the realization that whatever it was doesn't matter. His dad was meant to love him no matter what, and he didn't.
So his father left him by himself, when he was only thirteen years old, with a handful of money and nowhere to go, all because he couldn't face his nightmares.
It was that night, when he lay awake from the new nightmares that had started to plague him that he vowed, should he ever become a father, he would do everything in his power to make sure his kids were safe, loved and happy. He would not become his father.
The third thing occurred not long after his father had abandoned him. He was alone and living on the streets, begging for something to eat when a woman stopped to talk to him. She was old, her white hair matching the white of her shirt, but she had a kind smile. He remembers cowering away from her when she knelt beside him, afraid of what she would do. Instead, she had smiled at him and held out her hand.
"Let's get you somewhere warm, eh?" she's said and he'd hesitantly taken her hand. She led him back to her house, chattering softly; words that he can no longer remember. She introduced herself as Mrs. Picout and he in return introduced himself as Matt. Mrs. Picout's house wasn't far and they soon reached it. She had opened the door and led him over to a roaring fire, telling him to warm himself while she fixed him a meal.
Mrs. Picout took him in and looked after him for years. Her husband had died only a few years before hand and she was old and lonely, with a loving heart and a warm smile. She had other children come and go but he was the one constant fixture in his life and she loved him and he her. She died when he was seventeen. It had broken his heart once again and he didn't like to talk about it.
However, while she was on her death bed, Mrs. Picout had made him promise that he would always be kind and loving and loyal and honest just like she had raised him. To this day he has tried to live by his promise.
The fourth influence in his life happened when he met Janice. He was in college at the time. Mrs. Picout had been sure to secure his future before her death and had put money away for his college fund. Their love was quick and full of passion and now he can see that they rushed into it too hurriedly, never really taking to the time to get to know each other extensively before they were married and settled in together. At the time he was living by his heart and his heart was pointing towards her.
They were married before they even finished college. They bought a house for just the two of them close to the school and continued with their education as a married couple. When they finished college he went on to do the civil service exam and, after being accepted, attended the Police Academy while Janice stayed in L.A and continued on with her career.
After the first few years of ignorant bliss and happiness, their relationship started taking a downturn. He knows it was probably mostly his fault; he was so scared by his past that he let it seep in and affect his life once again. He knows he drove her to such extremes as cheating on him, but still he cannot forgive her.
And when he signed those divorce papers, he promised himself that he would never make the same mistake again. Never again would he rush into a relationship, or let his heart lead him.
The fifth thing that made Matt Parkman who he is today happened on that fateful day in October, when he found little Molly Walker, terrified and alone, hiding under the stairs of her now police-infused house. Her parents had hid her to keep her from Sylar, and their sacrifice reminded him so much of his own mothers as he picked up the crying girl and cradled her in his arms.
That day he vowed he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and protect her always. He vowed he would do whatever he could to help and support her. He vowed he would love her like she needed to be loved and he vowed to give her the life she properly deserved.
Mathew Parkman had gone through his fair share of heartbreak and hardships, but he had managed to emerge from each blow stronger than before. All these things had created a person he was proud of, a person he was happy to be. These five strong influences had molded and shaped Matt into a good, kind person and he was grateful to each one, no matter how horrible, for that gift.