The Calm Before by Mallinder
Summary: The race to save Molly is on, leading Matt and Oliver to the resistance headquarters in Montana. After finding out the truth of Nathan's betrayal, Matt is forced to make a tough decision that could have potentially dangerous consequences.
Rating: This chapter is rated M for course language and violence.
Disclaimer: Any characters, places or situations you recognize from 'Heroes' are clearly from 'Heroes' and don't belong to me. Everything else is mine mine mine!
Notes: I am looking for a partner in crime. Anybody who is interested in receiving an advanced copy of each chapter in order to check for plot holes, grammar etc. please contact me. As the writer, sometimes I forget that readers aren't privy to all the information that's floating around in my head, so it would be nice to have an outside opinion of the chapters before I publish them.
P.S. Brownie points go out to whoever can spot Peter in this chapter!
P.P.S. Whew! I got a little carried away here! None of my essays are ever this long!
P.P.P.S. (I know, this is getting ridiculous) The end of the semester is here, so this story might be going on a short hiatus, depending on how my schooling goes over the next couple weeks.
Also: I apologize to everybody for re-submitting this chapter, like, eight times or something. There are little things that I needed to change for plot continuity.
Chapter 7 - Trapped
Nathan Petrelli, Helena, Montana.
Ding!
Nathan spun around at the sound and looked across the room at his laptop. Hana must have some news. Last time she had reported in, Nathan learned of Matt's new roommate and his intriguing ability. Mohinder had said that new guy was willing to join the resistance, which was certainly a step in the right direction. He crossed the room and bent over, peering at the screen. The soft glow from the laptop illuminated his face as it twisted from excited expectation to a concerned scowl. An instant message had popped onto the screen;
--Wireless: we have a problem.--
Matt Parkman & Oliver Gordon, New York, New York.
"We need to call the police!" Oliver said with panic, spinning away from Matt and storming out of the bedroom. The palms of his hands were bleeding from the broken glass of the windowsill, but that was far from his biggest concern at the moment. His heart was knocking against his rib cage and the adrenalin pumping through his body dulled the pain.
"I am the police, Oliver," Matt replied. He bent down and picked a piece of fabric off the ground and took a few quick steps to catch up. He grabbed Oliver's shoulder and pulled back, forcing his friend to stop. Oliver turned and stared, his nostrils flaring with annoyance. "The police won't be able to help us. Not with this."
"What do you mean? Of course they can!"
"No, Oliver, they can't." Matt was trying to keep as level a head as he possibly could, even though his heart was lurching for some sort of forward action. "That wasn't a regular criminal. He was from The Company." To prove his point, he handed the piece of fabric to Oliver. It was black with a name written in gold lettering; Stock. It was the name he recognized from Claire's memories. He related as much to Oliver.
"The Company?" Oliver said softly, as if the phrase itself was a bad omen. "You mean The Company that finds people and kills them? The Company who chopped of Claire's limbs? That Company?"
Matt nodded somberly. "Yes, that's why the police won't be able to help us. First of all, they don't know about The Company. They don't even know about people with abilities. All they would do is file a report. The resistance needs to get involved. I need to get to Montana as soon as I can." Matt turned away from Oliver at that point and headed for the stairs. There were a few thing he needed to pack before he left.
"Woah, woah!" Oliver exclaimed, giving chase. "What is this whole 'I'm going to Montana' business about? I'm coming with you."
"No, absolutely not," Matt immediately shot back. He entered his room and rifled through some drawers, pulling out various files with 'The Company' scrawled across the top. "If we are going to get Molly back than it's going to be dangerous."
"I can take care of myself."
"No, Oliver. No offense, but you're still a kid. You don't have the level of maturity we need for something like this." Matt stuffed the files, along with a few shirts and pants, into a small suitcase and was already heading back down the stairs.
"Maturity?" Oliver spat with complete indignation, following Matt.
"Don't think of it as a fault, Oliver. You're just too young and inexperienced to be completely responsible."
Oliver couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stepped closer to Matt, and although Matt was taller than he was, Oliver hardly felt submissive. "How dare you talk to me about maturity and responsibility! I have been raising that little girl almost by myself for the past six months," he spat, his nose wrinkling with anger, "while Mohinder has been out globe trotting and you have been following useless paper trails at work and screwing your girlfriend in your spare time!" He knew he would later regret what he said, but he was so offended by what Matt was implying that he hardly cared. "Every time that you dropped the ball, I was there to pick up the pieces."
Matt's face coloured, his fists balling at his side. For a moment Oliver seriously considered the thought that Matt would strike him. Instead, Matt just turned away and stomped towards the front door, intent on leaving. Oliver grew hot with anger. He refused to stay behind and sit on his ass while Molly was being poked and prodded and God knew what else at some terrible facility. Matt began to open the front door, but Oliver was hot on his heels and slammed it closed again.
"I'm going." He stared into Matt's eyes with ferocity, daring him to say no again.
"Oliver," Matt hissed. "I've already lost somebody that I care deeply for today. I'm not going to risk losing another. You're not going."
"Yes, I am!" Oliver wasn't even attempting to keep his anger in check anymore. There was a loud clap of thunder outside. Oliver threw up his arms, looked to a nearby window and screamed "Not now!", as if the thunder was like an annoying younger sibling that always interrupted at the most inopportune moments.
Behind them, in the living room, their home PC flickered on. A few moments later there was a soft dinging noise and an instant message box popped open. After it was left unattended to for more than a few seconds, it chimed again. Matt and Oliver both looked over the computer, then back at each other. It was a battle of wills on the part of both men whether or not to go and see what was on the screen. Matt, sensing Oliver's refusal to move from blocking the front door, gave in. He strode over to the computer and peered at the screen. After a brief moment, he dropped his head and sighed. It was too long for him to understand. The words meant nothing to him when they swam freely across the screen like that. He looked over at Oliver a little shamefacedly. "Come here."
Oliver shook his head with vigor. "Oh no, I'm not budging from this door until you let me go with you."
"Just get your ass over here and read this!"
Reluctantly, Oliver left his post and glided over to the computer. "I swear to God, Matt, if you run out that door I will kick your ass so hard," he hissed before turning to the screen. He read it aloud for Matt.
--Wireless: would u 2 stop bickering? I've secured 2 seats on the next flight 2 Montana. Nathan sez both of u r coming. Ur flight leaves from Newark airport in 3 hrs. We will b there 2 pick u up. Hurry!--
Matt pursed his lips as Oliver read aloud. He knew who sent this message. He would recognize that user name and terrible digital penmanship anywhere. It was Hana. But Hana was dead, a sacrifice on behalf of the greater good. Because of her, the marks on his neck were nothing more than a grim reminder of the two days he lost so long ago.
"Two tickets! See! What's-his-face wants me to come, too!" Oliver was shouting again, determined to be included in Molly's rescue.
Matt was torn from his musings, the reality of the present situation settling into his mind again. Hana, if it really was Hana at all, could wait. Molly was infinitely more important to him. He wasn't sure if it was Nathan's request or Oliver's persistence, but he gave up the battle and decided to let him come. Or, really, he decided to not stand in the way of Oliver's involvement. "I'm leaving in ten minutes, with or without you," he said, clicking the monitor off. "Get whatever you need and meet me in the car."
Oliver didn't even pause to give thanks. He hurried upstairs and grabbed a couple changes of clothes. He stuffed them into a bag, along with the final installment of the Harry Potter series. He had been reading the series to her before she went to sleep every night, and he wanted to make sure he had it with him when they got her back. In his mind, there was no doubt.
Nathan Petrelli & Hana Gitelman, Helena, Montana.
--FlyingMan73837: I want an explanation. Now.--
--Wireless: Wat do u mean an explanation?--
Nathan typed furiously, pounding his fingers against the keyboard. Could she sense his anger when he did this? Her certainly hoped so.
--FlyingMan73837: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED, HANA!!?--
--Wireless: Don't yell me. I did wat u told me 2 do.--
--FlyingMan73837: I told you to be on the lookout for anything suspicious! How could you possibly mess that up?--
--Wireless: Bak off. Keeping my eyes on them was a lot harder than u think.--
--FlyingMan73837: Explain to me how that simple task is so hard.-- His annoyance and frustration with Hana oozed out of every word he typed. This was totally unacceptable.
--Wireless: I don't exist like u do, Nathan. I cudn't C them. I cudn't hear them. I cud only read the electronic info. that was either cuming in or going out.-- That was a partial lie, she could see them through Mohinder's webcam from time to time, but she decided to leave that part out. It was irrelevant.
--Wireless: I didn't C anything out of the ordnary, so I didn't report anything out of the ordnary.--
Nathan didn't reply, so Hana went on.
--Wireless: As soon as I knew somebody was in the house, I reported bak 2 u.--
--FlyingMan73837: Did you see what that person looked like?--
--Wireless: I just kno wat he was wearing.-- Hana immediately realized the mistake she had made. Not moments ago she had just told Nathan that she couldn't see anything anymore. He was quick to point out her folly.
--FlyingMan73837: I thought you said you couldn't see--
--Wireless: I can't. Not rly. Mohinder had a camera on his computer, and I cud look through that.--
--FlyingMan73837: What else are you keeping from me, Hana?--
--Wireless: Nothing! I wasn't keeping anything from u. I just didn't think it was imprt. That doesn't matter right now, tho. The man I saw was wearing all blak. He had a name sewn into his coat, but I cudn't make out the name. He was wearing goggles over his eyes--
--FlyingMan73837: Goggles? Are you sure?--
--Wireless: Yes. Y?--
There was a short lull in the conversation as Nathan considered the possibilities. He knew that Matt's new roommate, he forgot his name at the moment, had the ability to control the weather. Mohinder had noted his uses of fog on more than one occasion. Could it be that The Company knew about this and came prepared? The thought disturbed him.
--Wireless: Nathan?--
--FlyingMan73837: Hana, until further notice, I need you to find Molly Walker, wherever she is, and keep up to date on her files. If they so much as touch a hair on her head, I want to know. I want to know her location, I want to know why they took her and I want to know what they are doing to her. Do you understand me?--
--Wireless: Yes, sir.--
--FlyingMan73837: Make sure you're careful. We can't afford to let them know that you still exist, Hana. You are our mole, our only real insider. Claire can only get us so much information. Don't mess this up.--
Matt Parkman & Oliver Gordon, en route to Helena, Montana.
Matt didn't need to read Oliver's mind to know why he was so restless. He felt the same way. Worse even, for Oliver's words had hit home. What Oliver had said before was true; he hadn't been there for Molly. Not for a long time. His promotion to detective had unfortunately taken a large chunk of his time away from Molly, but he had found ways to work around that. His budding romance with Audrey, however, had all but pushed Molly entirely to the side. He was completely infatuated with Audrey, in love even, and those feelings had blinded him to Molly's needs. With stunning clarity, which was surely prompted from the guilt he was feeling, he recalled the countless times Molly had asked when they would go to the park together again, when would he take her to a baseball game, when would they would just hang out? He also recalled, with a rush of both gratitude and jealousy, how Oliver had stepped in each time he had denied her something. Accompanying each save by Oliver was a disappointed, almost angry stare from his young friend.
Matt turned to looked over at him now, sitting uncomfortably in the window seat. He was staring out the window, his brow furrowed with worry, anxiously chewing on his thumb. Maybe he had underestimated the maturity of his friend. Maybe he was using Oliver's youth as an indicator of his maturity, rather than judging him on his actions. Matt huffed out a self desecrating sigh. He had treated Oliver unfairly.
"I'm sorry about before," his muttered quietly, trying not to draw the attention of the other passengers.
Oliver looked away from the window long enough to shoot him a dirty look. "Huh. I thought it would have been above you to apologize to an immature, irresponsible kid."
Matt experienced a flash of annoyance before realizing that Oliver must have been considerably offended to say something like that. A simple sorry wouldn't suffice. He deserved an explanation.
"Really, I am. I was out of line. I was too panicked to think clearly. I know you love Molly, and I know a lot of responsibilities have fallen on your shoulders. I just haven't been around enough to realize it. I'm sorry."
Oliver continued to stare at Matt. His face still registered annoyance, but the anger was fading from his eyes. He looked out the window again at the passing fields below. Every so often he would dot the ground with small domes of fog, testing and fine-tuning his ability. He didn't know if he would need to use it anytime soon, but he wanted to be prepared.
"I just want to get Molly back," he said eventually, neither accepting nor rejecting Matt's apology. Matt decided to let the matter rest for now. The rest of the flight was miserable. They were both tired, anxious and worried sick. However, the tension between them had faded to nothing, replaced by a silent comradeship.
Their plane landed in Helena a half hour later. They were quick to exit the airport, having only brought carry-on luggage. When they stepped outside, there was a woman in a flowy white blouse holding a sign that had their names written on it. She had luscious shoulder length hair, blonde, that had just enough curl in it to make it dynamic. Her face was beautiful in its softness and her almond shaped, seagreen eyes were rather captivating. She was rather chesty, but they were shaped in such a way that made them both classy and wildly attractive. Matt, having met her before, simply gave her a polite hello and stepped into the front seat. Oliver, however, had to pause and stare. She was smiling at him! He grinned stupidly back.
"I'm Elise," she said with warmth, extending her hand.
Oliver took it lightly, as if gripping too hard would break her hand. "I'm, uh. I'm Oliver."
There was an awkward pause as Oliver stared, an idiotic smirk on his face. The woman pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows, a ghost of a smile curling on her cheeks.
"Shall we.. go?" she finally prompted, indicating her car with a wave of her hand.
Oliver nodded briskly and hopped into the back seat with more vigor than he thought possible for such a mundane task. When she took her spot in the drivers seat they rolled out of the airport. To Matt, a comfortable silence followed as they drove through the city, but to Oliver it was hopelessly awkward. He needed to say something. He was compelled to say something. Something intelligent. Something witty and charming.
"Soooooo... you're with the resistance? Me too!" Doink. Not exactly smooth. Elise, however, simply smiled and nodded. In the front seat, Matt chuckled like he was privy to some hilarious secret. Oliver found it infuriating, but declined to comment.
"Do you have a power?"
Elise nodded again, that soft, perfect smile still plastered to her face.
"Welllllllll...what is it?"
"To look fabulous."
Oliver let out and involuntary dry laugh. She was so funny! "No, really!"
Elise locked gazed with him through the rear view mirror, her eyes a mixture of that soft smile on her face and a penetrating stare that promised something both sinister and sexual. Both her hair and her skin began to glow very softly, giving her an angelic aura that both warmed Oliver's heart and made him want to throw her down and have his way with her. "Really," was all she said in response.
"Elise, knock it off. You're giving the boy hope," Matt said with humour. Elise's aura softened gradually until it vanished. Her gaze dropped to the road before her and Matt turned around in his seat to speak to Oliver.
"Elise's power is to be attractive. To be so gorgeous that she can get anybody to do anything she likes."
"Stop, you're flattering me."
"She makes you feel so comfortable in her presence that she can make you do something that could be totally opposite of what you would normally do. It can be pretty useful, especially when you're having a bad day. She can convince you to feel better."
"Like right now," Elise chimed in. "I know that both of your hearts are hurting. I know that you're both worried sick about Molly. I'm keeping you both from breaking down into sobbing messes with my angelic good looks and winning charm."
Oliver considered the validity of that last point while studying her brow line in the rear view mirror. When he first saw her, all of his worries seemed to melt away and he was filled with a certain contentedness. The entire car ride he had felt nothing less than perfectly pleasant. Even now, with the reminder of Molly's situation, he felt at ease.
"I have to warn you, though," she said, her tone losing its girlish charm and growing rather serious. "The moment I leave your general vicinity you are going to get hit with everything you were feeling before. The loss, the worry, the fear. It will all come back at the same moment, so be prepared."
The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence. Before long, Elise turned off of the main roads and started to head just out of the city limits. They began to pass farms with corn fields similar to the ones that he and Mohinder had their training sessions in. The car began to slow as Elise prepared to turn into a particular driveway. To Oliver it looked like a regular farm house - big, spacious, a bit run down. Was this the resistance headquarters? He had been expecting something a little fancier, maybe with barbed wire fences and security guards. His suspicions were confirmed when Elise cast him a glance in the rear view mirror.
"We're here"
Nathan Petrelli & Hana Gitelman, Helena, Montana.
--FlyingMan73837: Hana, are you there?--
--Wireless: Always--
--FlyingMan73837: I want a report on Molly.--
--Wireless: I havn't been able 2 get 2 much information so far.--
--FlyingMan73837: Let me know whatever you have--
--Wireless: ok. Molly isn't in Odessa like Claire wuz.--
--FlyingMan73837: She's not?--
--Wireless: No. They brought her 2 a smaller facility in London--
--FlyingMan73837: England!?--
--Wireless: No, Ontario. The facility there is a renovated factory that has been abandoned. The files say that there are only 20 or so Company members working there, and only 2 specials, Molly included.--
--FlyingMan73837: Good, that may make things a little easier. What else can you tell me? Have they done anything to Molly?--
--Wireless: Not as far as I can tell. Just a few blood samples. Her files say that she is 2 be observed only for now.--
Nathan looked out the front window of the farm house and saw a car pulling up. It must be Matt and his little friend.
--FlyingMan73837: I've go to go, Hana. Matt is here.--
--Wireless: I'll keep an eye on Molly.--
Nathan pushed back from the computer and stood up, straightening his shirt a little before heading to the front door. He wanted to make a good impression on Matt's new friend. After all, a good first impression was always the first step towards absolutely loyalty.
Molly Walker, London, Ontario.
Molly stretched out her arm and looked at the little holes in the crook of her elbow. Her other arm bared the same marks. Every time somebody entered her room, it was either to take blood or ask questions. She never answered the questions truthfully, if she answered them at all, but she couldn't find an excuse not to give blood. Every time they would stick the needle into her arm she would close her eyes and think of Matt. That's how she knew he was coming to her rescue. It warmed her heart to know that Oliver was coming, too. But it wasn't the figures of Matt and Oliver that was scribbled on the paper in front of her. The people in her drawing were completely fictitious. There was a woman with brown hair, labeled 'Mom', a man with black hair, labeled 'Dad', and a dog, whom she decided would be named 'Frankie'. It was an attempt to throw them off, to make them believe that Matt and Oliver didn't exist. She could only hope that these people would go off searching for her fake family, rather than her real one.
There was a clicking at the door of her whitewashed room as somebody tried to fit their key into the keyhole. Molly had already gotten used to that sound. Every time she heard it, the puncture holes in her arm began to burn. The door swung open a moment later and a man in a white lab coat entered, 'Bracken' scrawled across the left chest in gold, a silver tray covered by a cloth held in his hands. Molly knew the routine. She held out her left arm and continued drawing with her right. Sure enough, the prick of the needle came soon after.
"That's a nice picture you have there, Molly," the man said, slipping the needle back out of her vein.
"It's of my family," she replied, stressing the final word.
"Oh, now that's not true," the man replied casually, placing the vial of blood into his coat pocket. "We know exactly who is in your family, Molly. The geneticist Mohinder Suresh, the detective Matt Parkman and," a bitter look spread across the man's face, "Oliver Gordon."
Molly was forced to concede the point. If they knew, then they knew and there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. She fell into a silent observation as the man scribbled notes on to a piece of paper. She wanted to go home. The people here weren't mean to her, but they weren't particularly nice either. They hadn't hurt her in any way, except to take blood, but she was still worried that they would.
The door to her room had a small window that, if she stood on the tippiest of her toes, she could just peek out of. There were a couple of times when she had seen two people in white coats accompanying, or more like dragging, a man down the hall. The man looked like he was sick - pale, sweaty, weak - but Molly's instincts were telling her that something more sinister was going on.
She was curious to know just why they had taken her but she was much too frightened to ask. What if it was something bad? What if they wanted to hurt her? Worse, what if they wanted to hurt Matt or Oliver? But Matt was always brave when it came to questions and answers. He had never shied away from an answer he thought he might not like. Maybe she shouldn't, either.
"Why did you bring me here?" She asked bluntly. The way she saw it, asking the most direct question first meant she had little time chicken out. It also got the most direct response.
The man looked up from his charts, a soft, if somewhat patronizing, smile blossoming on his lips. "Because, Molly, you are going to help me change the world."
Matt Parkman, Helena, Montana.
Matt had experienced the shock to his system before, but nothing like this. After they had arrived at headquarters, Elise left them to go phone Mohinder and fill him in on the situation . As soon as she had stepped out of the room it was some dark force had punched him in the stomach and stolen all the happiness from him. Out of the corner of his eye he even saw Oliver stumble. It took Matt a moment to regain his perspective of the current situation. Although his worry and frustration at the situation was certainly well founded, the void of despair he felt was not. Molly wasn't dead, she just wasn't with him at the moment. In time, they would be reunited. He would make damn sure of that. He looked over at Oliver and could see his young friend going through the same mental process, sorting out what emotions were valid and which ones were simply caused by Elise's departure.
Nathan was waiting patiently, his arms folded across his chest. He knew what the sensation was like, so he would allow his friends a moment to recuperate. After it looked like both men had sufficiently recovered from the emotional shock, Nathan extended his hand to Oliver, forcing a politician's smile onto his lips. "Oliver Gordon, I presume? I've heard a lot about you from Matt and...," he was about to say Hana, but caught himself quickly. "Mohinder."
Oliver gripped Nathan's hand firmly. "Hi. I wish I heard more about you. Mohinder is never around anymore and Matt doesn't like talking about the whole resistance thing in front of Molly." Shock registered briefly across Oliver's face before it fell into something more contemplative and a little sad. Matt knew why. He was talking about her as if she hadn't just been kidnapped by the same people who had brutalized Claire. As if she was still at home, waiting for Friday night pizza, waiting for Oliver to read her Harry Potter, waiting for Matt to lift her onto his shoulders.
Nathan's voice broke through his internal dialogue. "Why don't you come with me, Oliver. I'll show you around. There are a couple people who want to meet you. Just leave your bag there. I'll get Niki to bring it to your new room." Oliver did so, letting his bag hit the ground with a thunk, and disappeared into another room with Nathan.
Matt knew his way around the building enough to know exactly where he wanted to go. There was a back porch to the farm house that looked out across the unkept fields of wheat. He enjoyed the way it grew wildly, exactly as nature intended it to, without the interference of man. The gentle waves had a calming effect, and helped him sort out whatever mental turmoil he was in. They had changed time zones on their flight over so, if he was lucky, he might be able to catch the later part of the sunrise. He made his way through the house without incident and stepped out onto the back porch. The sun had already risen, but the fields were still golden from its glow. He chose his favourite wooden deck chair and sat down, letting the autumn wind cool his face.
Where the waves of the wheat once served as a soothing sight, now they served only as a reminder of Molly. The way her hair moved when she ran, the way her skirts swished when she walked. His brow furrowed as his thoughts took a darker turn. Why did he always fail at everything that he did? He was never popular at school, his report card was consistently below mediocre, his father left him, he had been suspended twice at work. He was such a terrible husband, apparently, that Janice felt the need to not only cheat on him, but to leave him entirely. Being a father to Molly had been one of the most important aspects of his life, to the point where the definition of his character revolved around his parenting. But he had let that slip as well. Slowly but surely, Molly was taking a back seat to other aspects of his life. Audrey, his job, the resistance. Molly had been provided for in those times, but simply providing for her wasn't being a father. He wanted to make things right, to be fully present in her life once again, but now he couldn't because he had failed to protect her.
There was a creak as the door to the porch swung open, soon followed by the sound of footsteps across the deck. "It's beautiful isn't it." Niki had joined him, a grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Matt simply nodded. "Micah insists that I wake him up early every morning so he can see the sunrise." She cast her gaze down to the weathered planks below her feet. A soft, maternal smile spread on her face. "Of course, whenever I do wake him up he tells me to leave him alone."
'I don't know how to tell you.'
Matt remained silent, stonefacedly staring across the field. He liked Micah, he really did, but talking about children was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Your friend seems nice," Niki continued, taking a seat next to Matt. "He's pretty funny. They just met, but he and Micah are already friends."
'Please don't hate me.'
Matt declined to comment, either about Oliver or the content of her thoughts. He had heard thoughts like this before, questioning, wanting to say something but not knowing how. He often found the best way for them to get whatever it was off of their chest was to not force the issue. Asking what was wrong inevitably led to the same answer every time; "nothing".
"Molly... we'll get her back, Matt."
'I'm so, so sorry. I should have told you.'
Matt still said nothing, but turned to face Niki. He gave her a knowing, encouraging look, trying to let her know without words that she should just come out and say it, whatever it was.
"Matt..." she started, averting her gaze to the field of wheat. She didn't want him to see the shame in her eyes. She huffed out a sigh, clearly torn. "Nathan would kill me if I told you."
"Then don't tell me." Matt replied simply, hoping she would understand his subtle suggestion.
'We knew, Matt.'
"About what?" he asked aloud, slightly confused.
'You were being watched, Matt. The Company knew where you lived and who lived with you. I wanted to tell you, I did, but Nathan said that we shouldn't. He said it would be too dangerous to tell you. He told all of us to stay quiet. He said--"
But her thoughts were falling on deaf ears, so to speak. Matt had already risen sharply from his chair, his feet clomping on the old wood as he threw the back door open. He had broken out into a cold sweat and his fists were balled tightly at his sides. Nathan knew. Nathan knew, and he did nothing. It was his fault that Molly was taken. He found Nathan with Oliver and Micah in Micah's bedroom. Before any of them had a chance to ask why he looked so angry, Matt took a few charging steps towards Nathan, threw his arm back and brought his fist across Nathan's face so hard that the politician stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.
"You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!"
Oliver had the good sense to gently usher Micah from the room. "C'mon, kiddo. Show me how to hack into my academic records. I want A's in all my courses." Oliver offered Matt a questioning, if not critical look as he shut the door behind him.
Nathan glared up at Matt from the floor, his nose bloodied but his honour taking most of the damage. "Parkman, what the hell is wrong with you!"
Matt leaned over Nathan and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. With a strength born from fury, he lifted the smaller man off of the floor and slammed him against the bedroom wall. His nostrils flared as he glared penetratingly into Nathan's eyes, his nose wrinkling with anger. "You knew," he spat, his fists curling into the fabric of Nathan's shirt. "You knew that we were in danger and you did nothing to stop it."
"Put me down, Parkman," came Nathan's cool reply.
"More than that, you told everybody else to keep quiet about it, too!"
"Put me down, Parkman. Now."
Matt slammed Nathan against the wall again. "Don't tell me to put you down! They have Molly because of you!" he roared, his voice booming through the house.
"Put me down, Matt and I will explain everything."
Matt didn't put him down. He threw him down. Hot tears of rage, betrayal and the ever present worry welled in Matt's eyes as he loomed over Nathan. "Wasn't it bad enough that they stole your daughter from you? Is this some sick way to even the score? If they get your daughter, then they get mine as well? Is that how it works? Will you hand Micah to them on a silver platter next?"
"You're being ridiculous, Parkman."
There was a soft click as the door to Micah's bedroom opened. Elise stepped his, her face wracked with concern. "What's going on in here?"
"Stay out of this, Elise!" Matt snarled, bending down to pick Nathan up again.
It only took a moment for Elise to put the puzzle together. Matt, with a bloodied hand, was standing over Nathan, who was sporting a bloody nose. She rushed forward and grabbed Matt's arm, trying to prevent him from hurting Nathan again, but Matt shook her off with ease. He grabbed Nathan's collar and began shaking him against the floor.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a soft, angelic glow begin to spread across the room. Elise was trying to diffuse the situation with her power, but Matt refused to experience a contentment that he did not feel. He turned on her in an instant. "Do not pull that shit with me, Elise!" The glow in the room faded quickly. "Did you know, Elise? Did you know that we were being watched? Did Nathan," he spit out the name with venom, "tell you to keep quiet?"
Elise managed to look shocked, apologetic and full of pity all at the same time. "It's not what you think, Matt. We didn't tell you for a reason."
"So you knew! You knew and you said nothing. When you picked us up from the airport you had the audacity to actually look me in the eye and tell me you were worried about her."
"I am worried about her!" Elise screeched back. "If you would just calm down for a second we could tell you why we didn't let you know!"
"Whatever excuse you have it's not going to be good enough. Molly is gone because of you." Matt shot daggers at both Nathan and Elise for a few moments before turning around and exiting the bedroom. "I'm going to get Molly back."
Elise rolled her head back in exasperation and gave chase. "What are you going to do, just waltz in the front door of The Company and ask for her back? If you want to help her. If we want to help her" she corrected herself, "we need all the information we can about the facility. We'd be doing her more harm than good if we were all captured or killed."
"Well, lucky for me we have Claire. She's all I need right now. I'll just get what I can from her. If you want to help afterwards, fine. If you don't I won't be surprised."
"Leave Claire out of this," Nathan scowled, joining Elise and Matt in the hallway. "She's been through enough. She doesn't deserve you poking around in her brain anymore."
"You're the one who wanted me to do it, Nathan!" Matt replied with incredulity.
"Well, I don't want you doing it anymore." Nathan replied coldly, fixing Matt with a direct, authoritative and powerful stare, expecting obedience.
Matt, however, refused to obey. He took a threatening step towards Nathan and whispered fiercely; "I will tear through her mind to get the answers I need to get Molly back."
Nathan stared back defiantly, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. "You're not going to go near Claire. Do you know why, Parkman? Because I said so. In fact, consider it an order from the elected resistance leader." The two men had somewhat of a stare down, each refusing to give an inch on their respective opinions and goals. That is, until Matt spun away and stormed down the hallway, mentally hurtling insults at Nathan.
At first Nathan thought Matt was going to blow off some steam, maybe sit outside or go for a walk. However, the directionality of Matt's footsteps said otherwise. He was going to Claire's bedroom. Nathan swore fiercely under his breath and gave chase. It wasn't that he didn't want Molly back - far from it. He wanted Molly safe just as much as everybody else. He was refusing Matt permission to see Claire so he would learn a little self restraint. When Matt found purpose in something, or someone, he threw himself fully into it, regardless of the consequences. Matt had too much passion and Nathan was trying to quell that.
Nathan reached Claire's door and was not surprised to find that it was locked. He pounded on the wood with his fist. "Parkman, open the damn door!"
Inside, Matt sat beside Claire's bed. He didn't have much time, but he didn't need much time. Nathan knew how dangerous it could be to interrupt Matt while he was inside Claire's mind, so he was confident that as long as he was able to start a session with Claire, Nathan would wait, impatiently, for him to finish. However, Nathan was already pounding on the door so Matt had to be quick.
He gently grabbed Claire's hands and cupped them within his own. "Claire," he said soothingly. Claire, even at the mention of her name, continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. "Claire, I don't like what I'm about to do to you, but I need you to understand why I'm doing it. It's Molly. I'm not sure if Nathan ever comes in here to talk to you, but they took her. I can't let them do to her what they did to you. I won't. I need the information from your memories too quickly to wait for you to cooperate, so I have to take it from you. I'm sorry."
Although his conscious was hardly clear from making that little speech, Matt needed to press on. He gently tilted her head so she would face him. He took a calming breath before locking gazes with her, his penetrating, hers void of anything at all. He concentrated on her pupils, trying to see past them into the memories that they hid from the world. His peripheral vision began to blur and a fuzzy image began to form in his mind. In a flash it was gone. Claire was resisting. He tried again, clenching his lips together with concentration. The image became a little clearer, but he still wasn't in. There was silence at the door now, and Matt knew that Nathan had gone to fetch Niki. She would be able to break into the room in seconds, so Matt needed to make his last attempt count.
He stared fiercely into Claire's eyes, wrinkling his nose and clenching his jaw. He had always thrown in the towel when she started to resist before, but this time he needed to pry his way in. Pushing past her unwillingness was like the mental equivalent of walking through mud - it was thick, troublesome and required some force to get through. He could mentally see the end of her resistance approaching when something in his mind clicked over. One moment he was Matt Parkman sitting in a room in Helena, Montana. The next moment he was Claire Bennet, in a whitewashed room in, if her memories were to be trusted, Odessa, Texas. This was the dangerous part in his sessions with Claire, mostly because this is where he lost so much control over the situation. He was fully engrossed in her memories as Claire, experiencing every emotion, thought and shot of pain that she had felt at that particular moment.
--
He was huddled in the corner of the room, his knees brought up to his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't want them to hurt him again. Didn't they know that he felt pain? Didn't they know that every time they cut off a toe, finger or ear it was excruciating beyond his capability to bear? He just wanted to go home. Go home to mom. Go home to Lyle. Even go home to Mr. Muggles.
He could hear footsteps coming down the stark hallway - footsteps he remembered and feared. The door opened a moment later and a man he only knew as Bracken entered the room. Bracken had never been particularly nice to him, but he hadn't been particularly mean either. After months in captivity, however, Bracken had grown cold, violent and demanding. Where Bracken used to ease him into the next surgery, now he did it quickly and without emotion. Today was no different. Bracken approached him with a needle containing a pinkish liquid and sunk it into his arm without preamble. Within moments, he was feeling distinctly woozy and a certain numbness had spread through his body. It was a numbness that didn't prevent him from feeling, rather it prevented him from moving. Bracken lifted him up off of the floor and placed him on a nearby stretcher. He was wheeled out of his whitewashed room and pushed through several hallways.
In a very distant, unconscious part of his mind, Matt was processing the information.
He reached a room that he recognized with nothing short of terror. He had been in this room too many times before. His chest began to heave and tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes as he stared at the stark white light above. The sedative he was given not moments ago was beginning to wear off, the regenerative blood coursing through his veins rejecting the foreign substance. He could hear the tinkling of instruments beside him and the sound of several more people entering the faux surgery room. Just as the sedative wore off completely, he could feel his arms, legs and head being secured tightly to the stretcher, restricting his movements to nothing. Bracken then loomed over him, a large scalpel in his hands.
"Today, Ms. Bennet," he started, twisting the scalpel in his fingers, "we are going to observe how long it takes for your lips to regenerate once removed." With the back of the scalpel, Bracken traced his intended incision line around his lips. Even though the metal was cold, the area he traced felt like it was searing hot. "Are we ready, Ms. Bennet?"
He shook his head, his tongue refusing to produce sound out of fear that it, too, would be removed. Bracken merely frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that, Claire. We are on a time schedule and we cannot wait any longer." With that, Bracken lowered the sharp end of the scalpel to the area just above his top lip.
As soon as he felt the white hot pain on his lips, Matt's mind began throwing red flags. Usually this was the part where the connection between him and Claire had been broken. But something was different this time. He wasn't being allowed to return to reality.
He screamed, the fierce vibration of his vocal cords echoing through the room. The pain was unbearable. He could feel the scalpel splitting his skin as it traced around his lips. With the initial incision complete, Bracken began to dig the knife under the skin, sawing away at the muscle and fat until it poked out the other side. In a moment that almost made him vomit, he could feet his top lip being completely removed from his body, leaving nothing more than a bloody mess. He screamed and was horrified to see that the force of his bellow sent small chunks of his mutilated lip into the air. Bracken held the removed lip above his patient's head, examining it with little more than mild curiosity before tossing it to the floor. "And now for the bottom..."
--
"Break the damn door down, Niki!" Nathan cried with genuine concern. Screams were issuing from inside Claire's room, screams that were more than mere hysterics. They were screams of genuine horror. Quite a crowd had gathered outside of Claire's room at the commotion. Elise was standing a few feet from the door, her brows lifted with worry. Although the new kid, Oliver, was trying to keep Micah away from the adult bickering, his curiosity had overcome him and he was poking his head out of the kitchen, where he had taken Micah. Several other members of the resistance had come to find out what the commotion was all about. Judging by the floating apple, Claude had joined them as well.
Niki had tried to simply yank the door open, but only succeeded in breaking the doorknob. Now she was attacking the wood with her fists. Large, splintered craters being left where her hands made contact. The screaming on the other side of the door had been replaced by a pained wheezing. The next few strikes did nothing more than punch holes straight through the wood. She decided to try a different tactic, kicking at the door just above the doorknob. This yielded much better results. With just a few more jabs with her foot, the door flew open.
Nathan pushed by Niki with his lips curled back in some sort of primal snarl. He was going to make Matt pay for this. Nathan, however, stopped short. The scene in front of him wasn't exactly what he had expected. Claire was on her back as usual, the same lost expression on her face. Matt, however, was not leaning over her like he usually did. He was slumped back in his chair, his mouth hanging slightly open. His eyes were wide, indirect and lost.
Nathan felt somebody push past him and a moment later Oliver was standing beside Matt, waving his hand slowly in front of Matt's face. "What's wrong with him? What happened?"
Before Nathan could answer, Matt's face began to curl into a look of terror and despair. A light bulb went off in Nathan's mind and began putting the pieces together. He cast a quick glance at Claire. She was doing the same thing as Matt. A moment later both the police officer and the former cheerleader were letting out synchronous, blood curdling screams. With a chill that ran down his spine and washed over his body, Nathan realized what had happened. Matt had invaded her mind and was now stuck within, trapped in the unending cycle of horrific memories.
"He's trapped," Nathan said, a shocked sadness ringing in his voice. He cast a glance to the members of the resistance, settling poignantly on Oliver. "I think we've just lost Matt."
R & R please! Constructive criticism is always welcome and extremely helpful (especially to a first time writer!) Was it too long? Too boring? Too lame? Too cliché? Not informative enough? Too much useless information? Let me know!