The Calm Before by Mallinder
Summary:Six months have passed since Oliver first learned of his powers and he has developed a few new tricks.
Rating:PG-13, course language, sexual content.
Disclaimer:Any characters you recognize from 'Heroes' are clearly from 'Heroes' and don't belong to me. Everything else is mine mine mine!
Notes: This chapter is basically me trying to develop the characters a little bit. Suspense, horror, intrigue and all that jazz will come soon. I'm trying to find a balance between moving the story along and developing the characters. Any comments or constructive criticism are encouraged and highly appreciated. Enjoy(I hope)!
P.S. Damn! I didn't realize how long this was until I was done.
P.P.S. The end of the semester is coming up for me and I have assignments coming out of my ears. This story might go on a short hiatus until mid-December. My apologies!
Chapter 6 - Six Months
May
Oliver Gordon & Mohinder Suresh, outside of New York, New York.
"What about now?"
Mohinder shook his head impatiently. "Still nothing. How did you create the fog in Torrington?"
Oliver sighed and pulled an annoyed face and had to resist the urge to stomp is foot in frustration. He figured it would be a lot easier than this. "I don't know. It just kind of.. happened."
"What were you feeling at the time? Angry? Happy? Were you feeling any sort of intense emotion?"
"Well, I was just attacked by a man who wanted to chop off my head and eat my brain. I was scared shitless."
Mohinder pursed his lips as he considered this last point. It was a look Oliver had grown used to over the past few weeks. He always seemed to come up with some sort of theory after such a consideration. Mohinder didn't disappoint. "I have a theory about that."
"Of course you do," Oliver replied with a quick grin and a brisk nod.
Mohinder smirked. He knew that he had enough theories to fill a swimming pool. "I think that the unconscious part of your mind recognized that you needed some sort of protection from Sylar, a place to hide, and acted accordingly."
Oliver shrugged nonchalantly. He supposed it was possible. He supposed anything was possible nowadays. Here he was, standing in the middle of a corn field in the boonies of New York City with a genetics professor from India trying to create a thick fog using only his mind. It was ridiculous, but it was also true.
He had become the focus of Mohinder's research as of late, so these trips out to the boonies were becoming more and more frequent. Even though they had yielded little results (he had managed to kick up a spot of rain on an otherwise sunny day), Mohinder remained eternally optimistic, if sometimes impatient. Oliver wasn't so hopeful. He had never been anything more than distinctly average. Nondescript brown hair, plain brown eyes. He had an average build, his grades were usually right in the middle of the class. He'd grown so used to being average, of being 'that guy', that being told he was something more made him acutely uncomfortable. Maybe that's why these little sessions weren't working as well as Mohinder had hoped.
Oliver had tried different methods to try and coax the weather to follow his will and felt equally dorky for each failed attempt. He tried verbal commands, shouting out 'rain!', 'snow!' and 'clouds!'. Nothing had happened. He had tried issuing mental commands. Nothing. He even tried pointing at the sky or lifting his palms. This technique succeeded only in the fact that he was so embarrassed that two or three grey clouds formed quickly overhead.
Mohinder, possibly reading the uncomfortable look that had grown on Oliver's face, closed his file and put his pen back into his coat pocket. "We can head home now, if you'd like. I think we've been at this long enough." Mohinder turned and followed the muddy path they had trodden back to his car. Oliver followed, running a few steps to catch up.
"Sorry I couldn't do it," he apologized, scratching the back of his head and casting his gaze to the muddy path. He was struggling between his desire to remain a normal twentysomething and his desire to find some sort of purpose in his life. He often felt like he was doing nothing more than simply gliding through a prescribed, pre-lived existence and it frustrated him. However, he had never been entirely comfortable with being is own person, either. Being your own person meant being comfortable with the criticisms and judgements of your character. It was a battle he had fought often within himself. The desire for a normal, judgement free life almost always won out over being who he was truly destined to be.
"These things take time, Oliver. Don't get discouraged. Do you remember what Matt said to you when you first met?"
He did. Matt had said that his ability had started out as nothing more then a white noise with a few random thoughts popping in. Then he learned how to control it and use it to his advantage. But it was different than his ability. Where Matt just pulled information from somebody's head, Oliver had to create something which was, more often than not, extremely complex. He said as much to Mohinder.
"It is true that there are different categories of abilities. Matt's ability falls under the 'Mental Ability' category, while the powers of that woman I told you about, Niki, fall under the 'Physical' category. I suppose yours falls under 'Manipulation', although I can't really be certain at this point," Mohinder replied, going off on somewhat of a tangent. "However, almost all of the people I have interviewed have said the same thing about their powers; they had to grow into them. They didn't just appear one day fully functional. A young woman, Bridget, said it was like trying to walk for the first time. Your legs have always been there, but you only stood on them when you were ready."
Oliver mulled over this last bit of information as they climbed inside of Mohinder's car. Maybe it was time to finally accept what he was, who he was. Maybe evolution choosing him to have this power wasn't just a fluke. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe being less than normal wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it was time for him to try out those legs of his.
June
Oliver Gordon, New York, New York.
The original plan was to allow Oliver to stay with Matt and Mohinder until he could familiarize himself with New York. After that, he was to move out on his own, but stay in contact. After spending nearly two months with them, Oliver had learned that any plans they made had a tendency to change.
The three adults had grown rather close in the previous weeks, and grew even more so after Oliver had made the conscious decision to stop hiding in his veil of normalcy and embrace his true character. 'Embracing his new character' was a bit of a stretch, if he was honest with himself. He still didn't know exactly what his 'true character' was, but he was slowly beginning to piece it together. One of the more pleasant pieces he had found a place for was in his dealings with kids. As a twentysomething university student, the veil of normalcy dictated that all children should be treated at worst with scorn and at best with a polite smile or patronizing greeting. Life with Molly had shattered that facade entirely. He didn't know what it was about her, but she had somehow taken a firm grip of his heart and squeezed it every so often. He was hesitant to say that he loved her, but he certainly had developed a vested interest in her well being. Molly had also grown attached to Oliver, and it was Molly who had changed the original plan of his departure.
They had been cramped around the small dinner table in the apartment one evening when Molly made an astute observation. "This apartment is too small for all four of us to live in, you know."
Oliver had expected either Matt or Mohinder to gently let her know that his welcome was almost over and that he would be leaving soon. Much to his delight, however, Matt had rather sheepishly admitted that he had been looking around at different apartments that could house the four of them. in doing so, Matt had indirectly offered Oliver a permanent residence within their little family. Oliver's indirect acceptance was made by way of a wry smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows.
After about a week or so of searching, they had all come to the conclusion that living apartment style wasn't going to fly anymore. They began looking at different options and eventually settled for a less-than-fancy but functional townhouse that would offer them each their own separate bedrooms and enough space for the four of them to live comfortably. They began to pack immediately. Oliver and Matt only needed a few boxes between them, but Molly and Mohinder were much more high maintenance. They had boxes scattered around the apartment, some with labels, most without.
Oliver was alone in the apartment, sifting through the chaos, trying to find Molly's lost watch, when there was a knock on the door. He gingerly stepped around the mess of boxes until he made it to the door. Both Matt and Mohinder had repeatedly warned him to look through the peephole to make sure it was somebody they knew and trusted, but he had never gotten used to this extra precaution. Besides, if it turned out to be Sylar he was sure a simple door wouldn't protect him. He gripped the doorknob and gave it a little jerk before swinging it open.
A woman wearing a crisp looking suit stood in the hallway. Her no-nonsense face looked a little disturbed, confused.
"I'm sorry.. do you live here?" she asked, peeking around Oliver and observing the empty walls and cluttered floors.
"Yeah. Well, not for long, actually," he replied with a chuckle and a grin.
The woman simply looked at him quizzically. An awkward silence followed as she peered over his shoulder into the apartment again. It seemed like she was looking for something, or perhaps someone. She looked back to Oliver.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't, but it's Oliver."
Her face perked up considerably at the mention of his name as if it was some sort of revelation. As it turned out, it was. "Oh! Oliver, of course! Matt's told me a lot about you." She reached out her arm and offered her hand. "I'm Audrey Hanson - Matt's partner."
Oliver shook her hand and chose to interpret the term 'partner' in a way that would certainly embarrass Matt. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe and didn't bother to subdue the smarmy look that crossed his features. "Partner, eh? Matt never mentioned having a work partner to us."
Audrey's face immediately sobered and a touch of red appeared on her cheeks. "Yes, well.. the cases we work on together are extremely confidential."
Oliver's smirk only grew as she fumbled out the excuse. He opened his mouth to reply but was rudely interrupted by the phone ringing behind him. He quickly invited her to come in before hopscotching around the boxes to the phone - or at least, where the phone used to be.
"It's over here," Audrey said, picking the entire unit off of the floor and handing it across the boxes to Oliver.
Oliver nodded his thanks and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey, Oliver. It's Matt. Listen, I'm going to be late coming home today. Do you think you could pick up Molly from school?"
"Sure. Working late with your partner tonight or something?" He cast a quick glance over at Audrey who looked back with part amusement, part scorn.
"What? I don't have a partner."
"You don't? Well, somebody showed up a few minutes ago saying that they were your partner."
Matt's tone over the phone changed immediately. It was a tone that he had come to know fairly well by now. Matt was constantly worried about everybody's safety and often assumed generally innocent gestures from strangers as threatening or suspicious. To him, everybody was a suspect and nobody was to be trusted entirely. "You need to leave. Now. I don't have a partner. Make up some excuse to get out of there," Matt fiercely whispered into the phone. Oliver loved Matt dearly as a friend, but he was so easy to tease sometimes.
"Oh, I don't know. Audrey seems kind of cool."
"Audrey?" There was a long pause on the other line of the phone. "Tell her," Matt started. "Tell her I'll see her at work.. tomorrow."
"Can do. I'll see you when you get home then."
"...yeah. Okay. Bye." The phone went dead after that so Oliver had to imagine the string of cusses that were surely being said by Matt. He turned back to Audrey, who was trying to hide the smile that was blooming on her pursed lips. She studied him carefully for a few moments, judging what her response should be.
"He's so easy to tease, isn't he?" she finally said, choosing to admit to the truth of the matter, rather than denying the obvious.
July
Oliver Gordon & Molly Walker, New York, New York.
"I hate this game." Oliver said with good nature as he wiggled himself out from under the sink of their new home. Molly stood triumphantly outside with a smug smile on her face. She always won this game.
"You just stink at hiding!"
"You cheat!"
"No, it's just a natural talent! You wouldn't think a baseball player is cheating because he is athletic, would you?"
"You got that from Matt, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question.
Molly stuck out her tongue and shrugged, turning around and exiting the bathroom.
"Rascal," he muttered, following her out into the kitchen.
They had successfully completed the move out of Mohinder's old apartment and were all settling in rather well. Molly had already made friends with some of the neighbors, but then again she always seemed to make friends quickly.
Since their move, Oliver had secured himself a part-time job painting the exteriors of homes to help with his portion of the rent. It wasn't something that he particularly enjoyed or got any sort of fulfillment out of, but he had to pay his part of the rent somehow. Since his work was done strictly outside, he had ample opportunity to fiddle around with what he could do. He was able to conjure up a few rain clouds pretty consistently now, but always cast them away before they could ruin his hard work. His training sessions with Mohinder were growing fewer and farther between. In fact, both Mohinder and Matt were almost never home anymore. Matt had pulled a difficult case at work and spent most of the day at the station. Once Mohinder had grown to trust Oliver with Molly's safety, he set out across the country to catch up on his research. When he wasn't locked away in his new office in the basement, he was across the country studying somebody else with abilities.
With both Matt and Mohinder being sucked away into work, most of Molly's care taking had fallen to Oliver. Not that he minded. He rather enjoyed it, actually. Molly always seemed to make a bad day good, a good day great, and a great day blissful. He had gone frog hunting with her by a nearby pond, had consistent pillow fights with her, and had mended her broken heart after her two day relationship with Max Grossman had ended.
He leaned against the kitchen door frame and looked at her softly as she struggled to open a jar of peanut butter. She was bringing out a new sensation in him, something that warmed his heart completely. Maybe it was some sort of paternal instinct that was emerging within him, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't really care, either. He just knew he liked the feeling.
Nathan Petrelli & Claire Bennet, Helena, Montana.
Nothing had improved. He had spent night after night in this bedroom, watching her. She barely moved anymore. She just stared at the ceiling, refusing to exist in the conscious realm. Sometimes he could even see the horror playing in her eyes. He still felt nothing. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was filled with a fierce anger that any human being should have to experience what she went through. But he still didn't feel like a father should feel. Maybe that is because he has taught himself not to feel. His job as a district attorney mandated that he prosecute alleged criminals, regardless of his personal opinions of their innocence. He had been good at his job - perhaps too good. He had put a lot of innocent people away and he knew it. Their lives hadn't mattered at the time, only his own prestige. Things have changed since then. For the first time in his life, his personal priorities were put on the back burner in favour of a greater cause. But the effect had lasted. He still couldn't feel.
It didn't help that he has been living in the resistance headquarters with a woman whose parenting skills were phenomenal. Even though their mission was dangerous, Niki had been forced to bring Micah along with her to Montana. Nathan had watched her with him with a certain envy. She was always so concerned about his well being, always putting him first, always keeping him safe. Even when he knew she was having a bad day, she always seemed to have the right attitude when her son was around. She had even taken a vested interest in the well being of Claire. When she was having one of her episodes, Niki sat by her bed and soothed her to calmness. Nathan usually left the room when Claire grew upset. His mental beatdown of himself was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Niki poked her head in and motioned for Nathan to come out into the hallway. He did so immediately.
"I think we might have a problem," Niki said quickly.
Nathan remained silent, waiting for Niki to continue.
"Our contact is saying that The Company might have found out about Matt, Mohinder and Molly. She said that she found a dossier with their information in it. Their current information. It said that they moved out of Mohinder's dingy apartment and into a new place. I didn't even know that they moved!"
"Was there anything else?"
"Yes, a couple things. They know that both Matt and Molly have an ability and that Mohinder has a vested interest in those with abilities. It also said that they have a new roommate, but it didn't give a name." She paused and waited for an answer. When she didn't get it she was forced to ask for one. "What do we do?"
Nathan considered for only a brief moment before responding. "Nothing. We do absolutely nothing."
Niki's eyes widened considerably. "What do you mean 'we do absolutely nothing'? We have to warn them."
Nathan shook his head. "We can't. If we warn them, then they will react. If they react then The Company will know that we knew. If they know that we knew, then they will figure out that we have a contact inside their system. We can't take the risk of them finding out and increasing security around their files."
"You can't be serious! They could be in real danger!"
"My guess is that The Company has known about them for a while now. If they haven't acted on that knowledge yet I have no reason to believe that they will soon." Niki opened her mouth to protest but Nathan had already raised his hand to silence her. "Look, I know your concerns. I share them. But you all elected me as the head of this resistance for a reason. I can make these kinds of decisions. I've been making them all my life. They will be looked after. Trust me."
"How do you know that they'll be looked after?"
Nathan fixed Niki with a stare that silenced any further questioning. "Trust me."
August
Matt Parkman & Oliver Gordon, New York, New York.
Matt flicked off the light and softly closed the door to Molly's room. He had let her stay up way too late. He, Molly and Oliver had been playing a massive game of Candyland and had totally lost track of the time. As soon as the game was over he had ushered Molly off to bed, despite her protests of not being tired. But now she was in bed, asleep almost as soon as her head had hit the pillow, and he was left alone with Oliver.
Something about Oliver's thoughts had disturbed him over the past few months, but he had never worked up the courage to confront him about it. He wouldn't even know what to say if he did. But he had to do something. It was his duty to protect his friends and family, from whatever monsters may haunt them. Oliver's monster just happened to be within himself. As he looked over at Oliver, who was catching up on reading the newspaper, Matt's resolve to put the matter to rest solidified. He walked over and plunked himself across from Oliver and took the plunge.
"We need to talk," he said immediately, leaving himself no room to reconsider.
Oliver peered over the top of the newspaper and swallowed the piece of toast he was chewing. "Sure, about what?"
Matt paused. Perhaps he should have prepared himself a little more. He was at a total loss of what to say. Comforting Molly was no problem, it had come instinctually. But trying to comfort a grown adult who tried to hide the fact that he needed comforting was something Matt was new to. He took a calming breath before continuing. "You didn't kill him, you know."
Oliver's face registered confused amusement. "What?"
There was no turning back now. He had to push on. "Stanford. You didn't kill him."
Oliver's amused look faded and sobered until it was an offended frown. He looked across at Matt and studied his face for a few moments before dropping his gaze back down to the newspaper. "Have you been reading my mind?"
Shit. He was offended. He shouldn't have brought up the subject. It was obviously a painful one to Oliver and Matt was in over his head. At a loss of what to say, Matt could only repeat himself; "You didn't kill him."
"Stay out of my head, Matt."
"Sylar killed Stanford. You didn't."
"I as good as killed him," Oliver muttered. He cast a glance at his toast and pushed it away. He had suddenly lost his appetite
"How do you figure?"
"I told him where to find Stanford."
Matt shook his head forcefully. He had read the police report of the murder. A witness from Oliver's floor had told police that Oliver had told Sylar to look on the seventh floor of the residence, not the library where Stanford's body was found. He repeated as much to Oliver.
"It doesn't matter. Stanford's gone now, because of me. Because I have this stupid ability my best friend had to die," Oliver said, his tone laced with bitterness.
Matt didn't know what to say. He wasn't trained to deal with the emotions of the families of murdered victims, just how to extract information. "I just want to help," he offered lamely.
"If I wanted your help I would have asked for it."
"You did...sort of. In your mind."
"Fine," Oliver cut in tersely. "I just don't want help from you." He had the grace to colour slightly at his rudeness. He was being unfair. He let out a brief sigh before going on. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do and it's nice that you want to help me, but I can take care of myself. I know that Stanford is dead because of me, even if I didn't lead Sylar directly to him. If I didn't have this ability, if I couldn't do what I can do, then Sylar wouldn't have come to Torrington and Stanford would still be alive. It's just the way it is, and I'm coming to terms with that in my own way."
Matt conceded. Oliver was right. He was an adult and could figure things out on his own. If he wanted help or comforting he would ask for it. Matt was stupid for bringing the subject up at all. "Just... don't do anything rash then, okay?"
"Like what, swear revenge?" Oliver replied, standing up from the table. He grabbed his plate and dumped his half eaten toast into the garbage. "I won't. That's beyond tacky."
Matt smirked. That's one of the things he liked about Oliver the most. Even in tense or desperate situations he always seemed to slide in a witty remark or a lame joke, just to pick up the spirits of those around him.
"I'm going to go to bed."
"Okay. Goodnight."
Oliver walked towards the stairs and softly made his way up a few steps before pausing. "Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"Stay out of my head."
Hana Gitelman
She was nowhere. She was everywhere. She was where she needed to be, when she needed to be there. Adjusting to her new existence was certainly a chore, but she was managing. It was an odd sensation, being not entirely dead. Her body was gone. She had watched it burn and flake apart in the atmosphere, tumble to Earth, and eventually land somewhere in the Pacific ocean. The moment she died was the moment her powers grew to their full potential. She was no longer limited to manipulating local wireless connections. She was connected to the entire world and everybody in it all at once. She could ride the wireless waves to wherever she wanted to go, wherever she needed to be almost instantly. But the ability to do so begged the question; where did she want to go? Where was she needed? Just because she was dead didn't mean she was useless.
After taking a day or two to settle into her new existence, Hana had begun to search. For what, she didn't know. Her mission to destroy the tracking system was a success so she was left without purpose. For a few months she had done nothing more than disable computer viruses and meddle in the lives of romantic couples. Then she happened to spot something that fanned the fire within her soul. It was from Bennet, the man she used to work for. He was starting a resistance group to bring The Company down. She immediately contacted him, told him of her new existence, and joined the resistance. She had sent out messages to everybody Bennet thought might be interested in becoming part of their little group. Many of them joined their cause. But now Bennet was dead, killed trying to protect his daughter. She had seen it in an e-mail. That was the funny thing about the way she lived now. She didn't have eyes, so she couldn't see anything. She existed only in a world of information. When somebody tried to contact her, she didn't see the e-mail or hear the phone call. She just knew. Like she knew how Nathan Petrelli was elected the new leader of the resistance group.
She had gotten her most recent mission from him. She had pilfered through The Company's files and found one that had extremely recent information about Matt Parkman and his associates. After she relayed the information to Nathan, he had sent her immediately to their residence to keep an eye on them. Mohinder's laptop was alarmingly easy to break into. With some guidance from Bennet, she had learned how to incorporate herself fully into a single computer system, instead of just manipulating its wireless messages.
A new sensation washed over her as she melded with Mohinder's laptop. Never before had she entered a computer that had a webcam attached. She could see again. The resolution wasn't very clear and she was forced to look in one direction only, but to her, it was perfect.
She was under strict orders to do nothing but observe. Usually she would find this restriction irritating, but this regained sense of sight quelled that irritation completely. Observe was what she was supposed to do and observe is what she did for three weeks. There were no signs of danger, from what she could see, and nobody in the household had sent an e-mail or made a phone call expressing concern for their safety. If something were to come up, she was to contact Nathan immediately.
Having watched the family over the past few weeks, Hana had learned some interesting things about them. For starters, she learned that the new roommate's name was Oliver and, if Mohinder's files were to be believed, he had an ability to; to control the weather. Nathan would be interested in that. More than this new man's ability, Hana learned what these people were like when they thought they were alone. Mohinder, she noted, paced. When he was concentrating on a concept or theory really hard he made circles around the room, often times grabbing his chin as he thought. He was addicted to tea and it sometimes seemed like his research took precedence over Molly.
Matt, whom she had known before she had died, still seemed much the same as before. He was still the gentle, well mannered, caring soul that she knew. He was a constant worrier and often scolded the others for not looking through the peephole before opening the front door of their home. One change that she had noticed, however, was his confidence. He didn't seem to second guess himself as much anymore. There were a few times when Matt had brought his blonde lady friend home to an empty house and Hana had bared witness to some rather steamy encounters. If only computers could blush.
The girl, Molly, put on a brave face for them all. When the three men were out of the room she often lost herself in her thoughts, chewing on her lip and frowning. She wanted desperately to reach out to the girl, but interaction was out of the question. Molly also, when she was sure nobody was watching, took out an atlas and a pushpin and performed a little ritual that confused Hana. Oliver was the same as Molly. When he was alone he pulled out a picture from his wallet - of what, Hana could never see - and stared at it. If somebody were to enter the room, he would quickly tuck the picture away and offer them a smile she knew he didn't feel.
But she couldn't allow herself to care too much about them. Caring too much led to sloppiness. That's how Bennet died; he got sloppy. No, she would do nothing but her job. She would observe and report back to Nathan. When the time was right, whenever Nathan decided that was, she would warn them. For now she could do nothing more than wait.
Mohinder Suresh & Oliver Gordon, New York, New York.
Mohinder stared with unabashed astonishment at the highly concentrated dome of fog that mingled fifty feet away. At the center; Oliver. Almost as quickly as it had materialized, it dissipated into the atmosphere and Oliver was visible once again. Mohinder, in his excitement, crashed through the corn field towards Oliver, his eyes wide with wonder. He'd never seen anything like it.
"How on Earth did you do that?" Mohinder asked once he finally got within talking distance.
Oliver simply shrugged and smiled smugly. "I picked up a few things while you were off globetrotting."
"About that. I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately to help you develop your powers. It seems like you didn't need me anyways, so I suppose all is well." He looked down to his clipboard and began scribbling a few notes. "Can you describe to me how you did that?"
Oliver shrugged again. "I really don't know."
"Well, did you think of any particular emotion? Did you seep the fog from your body?"
Oliver huffed out a laugh at that last suggestion. "Seep it out of my body? Seriously?"
Mohinder smirked. "Trust me, stranger things have happened."
Oliver conceded the point. "Well, no, it didn't seep out of me and I wasn't thinking of any emotion. I just... wanted it to happen, you know?"
"So you just willed it to be?" Mohinder began to furiously scribble notes.
"I guess. I don't know."
"Is that how you isolated the fog as well? You just wanted it to be in one specific area?"
Oliver nodded. "Yeah. I actively wanted it to only make a bubble of fog around me and not cover the entire field. I was pretty specific about..," Oliver trailed off, unsure of what, exactly, he was being specific to. "Pretty specific about thinking that, I guess," he finished, hoping his explanation wasn't too abstract. Mohinder, however, just nodded feverishly. Perhaps he had heard such an explanation before.
The next few minutes consisted of Mohinder asking Oliver about his trials and errors with his power; when he had tried his abilities and their results; what he was feeling or thinking at the time; how his control over his power evolved. Oliver patiently answered all the questions, but was secretly bursting at the seams. He had a few new tricks he wanted to show Mohinder. Once Mohinder had caught up with his notes, Oliver began to reveal the new aspects of his ability that he had discovered. They weren't anything particularly spectacular, but they were new, which made them exciting.
He started off by showing Mohinder how easily he could form and collect rain clouds. By now it was almost second nature to him. He hadn't, however, taken the final step and willingly created a thunderstorm yet. His rain clouds would have to do for now. As a few droplets began to fall from above, a distinct chill filled the air, cold enough to cause Mohinder's skin to break out into goose bumps. Then, to Mohinder's astonishment, it began to snow. Not the regular fluffy, light snow. This snow was heavy and wet, as if it hadn't been fully frozen.
"Incredible...," Mohinder said softly as he watched the skies. The clouds quickly disappeared, revealing the blue sky behind them. Mohinder lowered his head and gawked at Oliver, waiting for an explanation.
Oliver grinned back stupidly, overly proud of this little accomplishment. "I think I can control the temperature too." In case Mohinder misinterpreted what he was saying, he quickly added; "Just a little bit, though. I mean, I can't shoot ice out of my hands or burn down trees or anything, but I can make it snow if I want. If we go to the beach I can make sure it's nice and hot, too."
Mohinder managed to look both impressed and inquisitive at the same time. Oliver knew there was some sort of inner dialogue racing through his mind. After a moment, Mohinder's face registered competence. "Of course. The temperature clearly in an integral part of the weather, and if you control the weather, than you must control the temperature as well." Mohinder fell silent again, making theories, Oliver was sure, considering possibilities and all that scientific jazz.
Oliver lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. It was nearly seven o'clock at night. "We should probably get going. I promised Molly that I would clean her room for her."
"Why would you want to do that? Her room is a pigsty!"
"I keep losing our bet."
"What bet?"
"That one of these days I will find a hiding spot that is so good that even she won't be able to find me."
September
Audrey Hanson, Matt Parkman & Oliver Gordon, New York, New York.
'Ohhh'
Oliver lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. They were trying to be quiet. In fact, he couldn't really hear anything unless he listened really hard.
Molly and Mohinder had decided to turn in early, leaving Oliver alone in the house. There wasn't much to do except surf the internet. When midnight rolled around there was a soft clicking of the lock at the front door. Oliver had peered over his shoulder and watched as Matt and Audrey walked in, hand in hand. As soon as they saw Oliver and knew that not everybody was in bed yet, they dropped their hands.
Oliver had quickly logged off and stood up. "Oh, you just caught me as I was going to bed," he had lied. He was sure that both Audrey and Matt had seen through the farce, but they weren't about to call him on it. He was offering them alone time. As he had made his way up the stairs, Matt mentally shot him a word of thanks.
What a mistake.
Oliver turned over in his bed and stared at the wall.
'Ohhh'
Nope, that didn't work. He grabbed this pillow and wrapped it around his head, covering his ears.
'Yes.'
That didn't work either. But he knew it wouldn't work anyways. He wasn't hearing real noise, so covering his ears wouldn't help.
'Fuck, yes!'
"That's it," Oliver mumbled, all but tumbling out of bed. He was not going to lay in bed all night and get no sleep. He stalked out of his bedroom into the hallway. Matt's room was right beside his, so he didn't have far to go. He knocked lightly on the door. No answer. Maybe they thought if they were quiet he would go away. Fat chance.
"Matt, I know you're in there."
Silence.
Oliver threw his head back in frustration and huffed out a sigh. He knew what he was about to say would highly embarrass his friend, but his sleep was more important than Matt's dignity right now. "Did you know," he said loudly through the door, "that you think really loudly when you have sex?"
The silence this time seemed even quieter. Quiet, that is, until he could hear Audrey's muffled laughter through the door. Oliver smiled to himself. Mission accomplished. He padded back to his bedroom and shut the door. He fell asleep quickly, content with a job well done.
It came as no surprise that the next morning Matt glowered at him over his cereal.
The Next Week.
Nathan Petrelli, Claire Bennet & Matt Parkman, Helena, Montana.
Matt sat beside Claire's bed, images flashing through his mind. Hallways, a few faces, a bright light, a surgical room, a scalpel. Matt gasped and shook himself free of the image before it could go any farther.
"You alright, Parkman?" Nathan asked, without real concern.
Matt nodded softly. He supposed that was the dangers of his new ability. He could do more than simply read minds. He could see memories. He held out his hand beside him and shook it briefly. Within moments, Nathan had plopped a rolled up piece of paper in his hand. Matt quickly unrolled it and began adding what he had seen. This is how these little sessions worked. Claire would remember the horrors The Company put her through and Matt would watch. He could only watch what she was remembering at that time, he couldn't dig through her mind for more information. From her memories of the facility, Matt was making a very rough map. Every hallway that she had remembered, he had added to the map. Of course, there were huge chunks missing since she wasn't brought to every part of the building.
There was a soft tap at his shoulder. He looked over and saw Nathan holding out a glass of water to him. These sessions were draining, both emotionally and physically. He experienced her memories as if they were his own, so the fears were always real. He was extremely thankful that he always seemed to snap out of it whenever the scalpel, or any other of the surgical instruments, came too close.
He quickly downed the glass of water and went back to the map, noting door numbers, corridors and possible exits. Any name that he happened to catch he wrote down off to the side. The two men who had most frequently brought Claire to the surgery room were named Brown and Stock. One of the surgeons name was Bracken.
"Do you think you'd be up for another go?" Nathan asked with a force that made it seem more like a demand than a question.
Matt firmly shook his head. "No. No, no more. We've both had enough for today," he said, placing a hand on the top of Claire's head gently. Nathan's brow furrowed as he did this and Matt was at a loss as to why. It hardly mattered.
Nathan leaned back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. He knew that Matt was often too exhausted to read minds after a session with Claire, so he felt free to consider the matter of whether to warn him or not. So far his prediction was right; The Company hadn't made any threatening moves. Hana was making sure of that. No, he wouldn't tell them. It would only cause them undue fear. He stepped away from the wall and gave Matt's shoulder a squeeze.
"Good job today, Parkman."
The Next Week
Oliver Gordon, Matt Parkman & Molly Walker, New York, New York.
Oliver cracked an eye open and turned around in his bed to get a better view of the clock. Three o'clock in the morning. What the hell was Matt doing up? He could hear footsteps pacing downstairs. Mohinder was away again and they were too heavy to be Molly's. Oliver flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, a large yawn blooming on his face. He was too comfortable to tell Matt to go back to bed. He shut his eyes again and when he did so, heard something that disturbed him. From the room next to him, he could hear a soft snoring. Matt's snoring.
'Matt..' he thought softly. Then, realizing that he really didn't need to think softly, repeated himself a little louder. 'Matt! Wake up!'
"I'm up, I'm up..." Matt mumbled from the other room.
"Shhh! Shhh!' Oliver thought quickly. 'Don't make any noise. I think there is somebody in the house.'
'What? Where?'
'Downstairs. He's...' Just then it dawned on him. Molly's room was downstairs. Could it be that this intruder was after Molly? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to take the chance. Oliver threw off his covers, concentrated for a brief moment, and conjured a thick fog that encompassed only their home. Downstairs, he could hear somebody - male, he was sure - mutter something. From the tone of voice, he wasn't please.
'What are you doing?' Matt asked.
'Molly's bedroom is downstairs!' Oliver shot back, creeping softly to his own bedroom's door, opening it silently.
'Stay if your room! I'll take care of this!'
Oliver ignored him. He crept down the stairs slowly, careful to skip the ones that creaked. He could hear Matt opening his door behind him. 'Don't move! You might run into something!' Oliver hissed mentally.
The movement behind him stopped, but that didn't keep Matt from expressing his concern. 'Oliver, what are you doing? You're going to get yourself hurt! You might run into something too!'
'I can see through this shit, remember? Whoever is in our house can't. I have the advantage here.'
Matt's protests fell silent, although Oliver could still hear his worried thoughts. He gazed around the dark kitchen, but nobody was there. He swallowed hard and started creeping down the hallway towards Molly's room. Her door was open slightly. At that point Oliver abandoned all caution and raced down the hall, throwing Molly's door further open. Sure enough, there was a man standing over the sleeping Molly. He was clad all in dark colours and wore some weird goggles over his eyes.
"Hey!" Oliver called from the doorway. Molly woke up at that point and the man snapped his head up and stared at Oliver. Suddenly, he felt exposed. In his haste to get to Molly's room, he had forgotten to arm himself. The only things in Molly's room that he could really use as a weapon were some stuffed animals and an atlas. Before Oliver could make a move towards the atlas, however, the man looked back down at Molly and scooped her out of bed. Molly began to scream and call out for Matt, pounding her fists on the man's back.
Oliver forgot about the atlas and rushed foreword, intent on beating the man with his fists if he had to. But the man was too fast for him. Moments after he had taken hold of Molly, the man had made a b-line for the window. There was a loud crash as the window shattered, and then silence. No thud, no footsteps scampering away. Just the sound of the wind. Oliver raced over to the window, placing his hands on the sill and sticking his head out. He screamed Molly's name, ignoring the pain that was oozing from his hands from the broken shards to glass. He could hear Matt's thundering footsteps racing down the stairs, so he dropped the fog. Matt was behind him within moments.
"What happened? Where the hell is Molly?"
Oliver turned away from the window, his face desperate with emotion. "They took her, Matt. She's gone."