theme 2. "news/letter"

More angst!Matt. I didn't mean to. I promise the next theme will be waffy happy matthinder.


Theme 2. news; letter/otosata
(set before 2x04.)

"It's not mine."

Those were the words Matt greeted Mohinder with as he came home.

"Sorry," Mohinder said, opening the fridge. He was famished. "What's not yours?"

"The baby."

Mohinder dropped the carton he'd just taken from the fridge. Leftover Chinese spilled everywhere.

"Oh, no." He crossed the room to where Matt sat, crumpled in his easy chair, and kneeled before him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." It was not a convincing tone of voice. "Just feels weird saying it out loud. It's not my baby. I'm not going to be a father after all."

You already are one, Mohinder thought.

"That doesn't help!" Matt burst out.

"I know," Mohinder said softly. "That's why I didn't say it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to think it."

"Yeah, and I didn't mean to read it," Matt grumbled. "It's all right."

"How did you find out?"

Matt waved a creased envelope. "She sent a copy of the results. In case I didn't believe her, I guess."

"I see." Mohinder put his hand on the folded paper. "May I?" Matt didn't resist. Scanning the page briefly, Mohinder nodded. "I see," he repeated.

"I mean," Matt said in a voice that betrayed no emotion but a sort of emptiness, "I didn't like the idea that I was going to have a kid I barely saw..."

Mohinder was silent. He couldn't think of a word to say. He was angry at Matt's ex-wife for being so impersonal. How heartless could she be, to just send a letter like that? She had to know him well enough to know he would be hurting! The depth of his rage surprised him, and his fists clenched to keep himself from shouting every last obscenity that was screaming through his mind.

"You know what's sick?" Matt thought. "Lately I have even caught myself wishing for this. I thought, Jesus, why do I have to go through this? She sleeps with another guy and I'm the one who gets kicked out? And now I've got to fly across the country to see my own kid? I actually wished it would turn out not to be mine."

He laughed bitterly. "I suppose wishes do come true. But only so that they feel like a kick in this ass."

"Don't say that," Mohinder broke in. "You know that's not true."

"Feels true right now." Matt got up, stomped around the apartment like a movie monster on a rampage. "But that's not the worst of it."

"It's not?" Mohinder would not have asked, except that he felt Matt wanted him to. He was obviously looking for a reason to articulate the sound and fury within him, and right now he needed someone to be there and give him a stage to strut and fret on.

"No." Matt looked at him almost plaintively. "The worst part is, I AM kind of glad. I feel like a load's off my shoulders. And at the same time I feel like a child of mine has died. Both! At once! How much sense does that make?"

Mohinder thought it made a lot of sense, but he didn't say so. And hopefully Matt wasn't listening.

"I mean, the rug's been yanked out from under me. I've been totally betrayed. But at the same time, I'm free!" He was almost hysterical, laughing and half-crying. "And all I can think about right now is how excited I am to spend all my time with this family. How happy I am that that door is finally closed."

Then, in a movement so swift Mohinder barely saw it, Matt crossed the room and grasped both his shoulders. "I mean, you and Molly are all I have now!" And Mohinder could see the desperate loneliness behind his sparkling eyes. "Isn't that... great?" He couldn't sustain the manic smile. "Isn't it?"

Mohinder couldn't think of anything to say. He was a little frightened. Matt was in shock, and he'd been alone all evening stewing over this. Everything he'd been feeling had been amplified by this empty echo chamber of an apartment. It must be awful for a telepath to only have his own mind to read.

"Isn't it?" Matt repeated insistently, shaking Mohinder's shoulders. "Jesus--" And he doubled over, drained, crouching on the floor as though he'd been punched in the gut.

Instinctively, Mohinder flung his arms around him. "I'm here," he said soothingly. "It's all right. I'm here." And, not knowing what else to do, he began to sing a lullaby he remembered from his childhood. Molly loved that song; it calmed her after her nightmares awoke her. He prayed it would do the same for the man in his arms in the midst of his waking nightmare. Still humming, he lifted Matt's face and pressed his forehead against his own, willing him to feel the closeness and the calmness he was searching for. He closed his eyes.

Matt's eyes were wide open, though, and he was watching the movements of those lips, seeing Mohinder's face so clearly for what might be the first time at this short distance. Abruptly, he grabbed the tangle of dark curls in one hand. His mouth captured Mohinder's in mid-note.

The gently closed eyes flew open at once, and the beginning and end of a surprised murmur cut off the song. Their gazes met for just a fraction of a moment before the kiss deepened and Mohinder's eyes flutered closed again. He felt strong arms pushing him backward onto the rug and a bearlike brute of a body atop his. Despite himself, he reached out, pulled Matt closer, willing that this might provide him some small comfort. That it would let him know he deserved to be loved. Let him know he was loved.

When the moment had passed--and a long moment it was--Matt rose to his knees, red, and mumbled, "Sorry."

Mohinder sat up. "Don't be," he said. "I'm not."

"You're not?" Matt was not expecting this answer.

"No," Mohinder said soberly. "But I want you to know that you deserve this."

And he slapped him across the face.

Red now for more than one reason, Matt recoiled, grasped his cheek with one hand, and cursed. "What the hell was that for?" he roared.

"Several reasons," Mohinder said, getting up and dusting himself off. "You're acting like a crazy person, and you need to snap out of it, for one. Also, I get the distinct impression you want to be punished for feeling relieved, so I hope that does the trick, because you haven't done a single thing wrong, so nobody else is going to punish you. But finally, Matt--" and he pointed an accusatory finger at him-- "it was because what you did just now, you did because you needed some comfort. And next time, I expect you to do it because you need me."

And he turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen to clean up, leaving Matt to process yet another piece of unexpected news.