?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
21 April 2008 @ 10:30 pm
[fic repost] A Simple Twist of Fate, Part 7 of 7  
Title: A Simple Twist of Fate
Chapter: 7 of 7 (previous chapters are here)
Author: tiptoe39
Rating: The fic as a whole is NC-17; this chapter is PG-13 for language and violence.
Summary: What if Matt, not Janice, had picked up the phone when Mohinder called in Season 1?
Author's note: Thanks as always to my best!fic!friend ilsaluvsrick for beta-ing, inspiration, and general awesomeness. Also for saving me from a massive plot hole. (This fic has been a bitch. I'm glad it's over. Ptooie.)



A shot goes off, burning a bullet into the floor, as Bennet falls. Molly screams.

"Mohinder?" Matt turns.

I have my gun raised and trained on him already. Just in case. Just in case.

His stare is wild. His presence is so near. So real. Another moment, and I'll lose my nerve and run to him. It's all I want. He's here and I'm here and everything else is just a needless complication. I don't understand why I can't be holding him right at this moment. He looks like everything I've ever yearned for and everything I never dreamed I could actually have. And yet I'm holding a gun on him. It's absurd beyond words.

But then the man on the floor is stirring, and Molly yelps. She's on the ground behind her bed, peering under the mattress at him, hissing like a cornered alleycat. Faster than I can draw breath, Matt moves into action. He kicks away Bennet's gun and kneels to the floor to gaze at her.

"Officer Parkman?" she says incredulously.

"Molly?" He echoes her tone. And she's scrambling over the bed to him and I know he's not going to let her die.

I knew it. I was right. For once in my life, my trust was not misplaced.

Bennet groans and starts to get up. It takes him only a moment to realize the tables have turned, that he's alone against the world. He raises his arms in a gesture of surrender even as he snaps at me. "You son of a bitch, don't you get it? As long as they've got her, my family will never be safe."

"You hurt her and I'll kill you," I inform him unceremoniously. I wish I were a cobra so I could spit venom at him. The amount of loathing I have for him right now that he would hurt this child is unspeakable.

"Hey. Nobody's hurting anybody. Nobody's killing anybody," Matt says, spreading his fingers wide and making broad circling gestures in the air. His eyes are on Molly. She gulps in a breath.

"Can I have a word with you, Professor?" says Bennet, looking decidedly ticked but no longer feral.

I try to calm down as well. I lower the gun slowly. "Yes, I think that'd be a good idea."

"Let's step outside, then." He's back to that alarmingly cool visage he presented when we first met. "I need some help cleaning up."




They're probably taking care of Thompson. I can hear their bickering in the back room like obscure background music. The noise is muffled, but the thoughts behind them are clear. I try to white them out.

Molly Walker. What the hell is she doing here? And with Mohinder, no less? Then again, I never did find out what happened to her after the FBI got through with her. They wanted me to talk to her, that much I remember. But then Sylar came after her at the facility, and she was moved, I thought to a safehouse or another office, but... how is it that she ended up here? I can't get a handle on what must have happened.

I remember being briefly kind of cheesed that I never got a chance to sit down and talk with her. In a way, Molly changed my life. Hers were the first thoughts I ever heard. Or, the first thoughts that mattered. I think I might have heard one or two things before that, but Molly's the one who set everything in motion. But beyond that, there was something so right about the way she leapt into my arms when I reached my hand out to her. I felt like a little angel had just melted onto me, and I thought, I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this girl's trust. I can't do anything right. But I wanted to let her trust me, even so. Because her arms, skinny and shaking, wrapped around my neck were like a blessing. I felt kind of redeemed.

Then it happened again, when Sylar came for her, and she was in my arms again and I thought to myself, sort of absently, that I wished she was my kid. Maybe they'd let me adopt her, I thought, and then laughed at myself for it. But when Jan told me she was pregnant, I have to admit thinking I hoped it was a little girl just like Molly.

And here she is. I didn't ever think I'd actually see her again. She's really freaking cute. Her eyes are so perceptive.

"So, uh. Molly." I say. "How have you been?" Dumb question. Her parents are dead and she's miles away from home.

Still, she gives me a little brave smile. "I'm glad to see you," she says. "I worried about you." There's a reproachful tone to her voice, and I feel like I'm getting scolded. It's kind of adorable.

"I checked on you all the time," she goes on. "Before I got sick. I wanted to make sure the boogeyman hadn't gotten to you, too."

"Me? Nah." I bluster, waving my hand. "He could never hurt me."

She leans forward, looks a little pale. "But he was with you."

I stumble back. "What? How did--" And then Bennet's words ring through me. I knew the tracking system was a person. And it smacks me right in the middle of the head. The Walker system. Well, duh. One mystery solved. Brilliant deduction, Detective Parkman. Just in time to be completely useless.

Oh well, on to Mystery #2. "So, uh, Molly... how come Mo.. I mean, Doctor Suresh is here?"

She wrinkles her eyebrows. "You know him?"

In the Biblical sense. Stop, Matt, stop. God, I'm so giddy at seeing the both of them again I've almost forgotten that there are guns and corpses and killers out there. "Yeah. Yeah, I know him. We're... we're friends."

And she gets this huge grin on her face. "That's cool!" she enthuses, color coming to her cheeks for a moment.

Yeah. It kind of is, isn't it?

But now she's edging up to me and her smile disappears. "You are gonna protect me, right?" she says earnestly. "You won't let anyone hurt me, right?"

I'm moved. "Of course I won't," I tell her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Oh, my God, her shoulder's shaking like a leaf. Her whole body's shaking. She's falling.

I tear out of the room. "There's something wrong with Molly."

Mohinder's by my side in a flash. Together we're putting her in bed. Bennet's forgotten, the world is forgotten. Just have to get her safe, stable, relaxed, so he can bring her back to strength. I've got a hand on her forehead, thumb stroking her hairline. He's inserting an IV. I wince. It starts to drip, and he sits back for a moment and heaves a long sigh.

He's unshaven and disheveled and worried and the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life. And the two of them together. I feel like I'm going to die from the tightness in my chest. I've never felt this much love. I want these two people in my life. Desperately.

I mean, look at us. We're working together, taking care of this life that we feel a shared responsibility for. It's so intuitive, so right. So simple. It's like we're her parents. Her family. That should be terrifying, but it's not-- it's the opposite of terrifying-- and that is the terrifying part.

It's probably time for us to talk.

"How... how did you?" It's the first question I can ask, and it makes very little sense.

"I was brought here. After Sylar e-- escaped." So he knew. He found out. Well, of course he did. He's alive, isn't he? "You were right. I'm sorry, Matt."

I left him traveling cross-country with a killer and he's sorry? "He... he offered me your life," I croak. "I didn't leave because I wanted to. I thought it was the only way to protect you." He bites his lip, and I can't help but half-laugh. "I know, I know. You don't need protecting. Right?"

When his eyes meet mine, I am sure he is not quite human. He's sent to me from someplace far above, someplace where men like me aren't allowed to set foot. "I'm just so glad you're safe," I hear myself say. "I worried... I tried to call." But only once. I told Bennet I was trying to call my wife. He wouldn't even let me do that.

"He told me I was a parasite," Mohinder says.

"What?"

"I thought I was so clever," he says bitterly. "I poisoned him, thought I'd incapacitated him. Thought I had him at my mercy. Fatal hubris. I called him a parasite, and he started to laugh. He said to me that I had... I had led you on, strung you along to indulge my own curiosity. I was willing to take all of your trust but not to trust you. Who's the real parasite here? That's what he said to me."

I'm struck dumb. Has he been torturing himself all this time with that nonsense? Doesn't he know better than to listen to the words of a psychopath?

Of course, I'd been doing the same thing.

"He told me he was going to make sure you learned how to hate me," I say.

Mohinder smiles sadly. He's rubbing Molly's palm with a gentle finger. She's stirring now. "He said an awful lot, didn't he?" he says.

"Do you? Hate me, I mean? I mean, I know I deserve it, but..."

I shut up. For one thing, Molly's eyes are opening. She looks up at Mohinder, then at me, and gives us both a contented smile. We're connected by her, and it's amazing to think that she was the one who started this path I've been wandering down. The first voice I ever heard in my head. Molly brought me to life. She taught me to believe. And she guided me home. She draws the circle and she brings it to completion.

Mohinder feels it too. I can tell. The extraordinary, but utterly simple, twist of fate that has brought the three of us together.

"I don't hate you," he says softly.




Matt's gone after Sylar. Bennet's gone elsewhere. For the first time tonight, I have room to think. And there's a lot to think about.

Thompson is dead. I have to deal with this development before anything else, because now I have no idea to whom to turn to continue to care for Molly. I've had contact with no others but him and the young woman who tutors Molly on alternate days. I have no idea who is running this particular show, but I fear that whoever it is may be concerned with things much more lofty than a ten-year-old and an immigrant doctor. Thank God she's getting well. Navigating the American medical system is hardly something I'd like to deal with any time soon.

Earlier, Matt and I had been sitting on opposite sides of her bed as she talked to us about the man she calls "worse" than her boogeyman. I had no idea such a creature existed. Whoever it is, I hate him with every fibre of my being for having caused her one moment of terror.

I knock on her door. She still looks a little pale, but at least she's sitting up now. I suppose it was the excitement and the fear that got to her more than anything. Adults are cruel creatures. We get caught up in our dangerous games, and it's the children who are hurt, always. I'll be damned if I let that happen ever again.

"Molly," I say, sitting on the side of the bed, "did anyone ever talk to you about what would happen once you got well? Where you'd go?" She shakes her hand. "Do you have any grandparents? Or aunts and uncles, people you think you should go stay with?"

"Are you gonna send me away?" she asks. She's pouting; her lip is trembling. Oh, no, oh, no. She's got exactly the wrong idea.

"No, darling, I'm not going to send you anywhere. Nowhere you don't want to go." I reach over to caress her hair. Such a sweet soul. "You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to. You can stay right here in this room. But..." I take her hands, crouch so I can look her in the eye. "I was wondering if you might want to come stay at my apartment for a while."

"You mean, with you?" I can't read her expression. I'm not sure if the idea thrills or horrifies her. Still, I nod hopefully.

She folds her arms and frowns at me. "Can you cook?"

It takes me a moment to bite down the laugh that tries to escape at that moment. Oh. She is too precious for words. "Yes, I can cook. Does that mean you'll consider it?"

She breaks into a grin and nods, bounding forward to hug me about the waist. Oh, how I love this little girl. I'm going to take care of her. Protect her. Be her family.

Then my phone rings, and I have to leave her for a moment. I step into the next room. "Yes?"

"He's gone. He's not here." Matt's voice. The phone buzzes with static urgency. "He's heading in your direction."

And suddenly the domestic dreams are tossed aside and I'm in a state of near-panic again. "How... how do you know?"

"Your friend the painter? Dead," he informs me. The world seems to sway on its axis. "Our pal Dale has been drawing some pictures."

"Oh, no."I remember the paintings I saw. The giant explosion on the floor. Panic hits me full-on.

"I'm on my way. Try to get out of there." His voice is urgent and heavy on the line.

I reach for my duffel bag, begin shoveling supplies into it. "We will."

And then his tone drops to something dark. "Don't... let anything happen to Molly," he warns, as though he were the one solely responsible for her.

I feel a swell of jealousy and, at the same time, some affection. When this is all over, I will have to talk to him. "I never would," I promise.

"Good." His voice is halfway gone already. I shout his name, and he returns to the receiver. "What?"

"Be careful," I say weakly. I hope to God he doesn't need to read my mind to know what those words mean.

"Yeah." The phone clicks off. I holler for Molly. It's time to move.




Be careful? What does he mean, be careful? Wish I was in the same room with him so I knew what he was thinking.

Oh, my God, that painter's room was the freakiest thing I've ever seen. Those places, those paintings... I was there at half those places. The homecoming banner. That freaky woman. I even think that was the same diner. What other kinds of creepy-ass powers have people got that I've never heard of?

Not that much matters right now. Fucking traffic. I could run faster than this. Molly, Mohinder, get out of there!

What else could that painter foresee? Did he see that Sylar would be impersonating an auto mechanic in the middle of nowhere? Did he see that a little girl would be in danger? I'm starting to hate this guy. How could he see all this and do nothing?

No. I've got to be honest with myself. I'm hating myself right now. Because I had the chance up there to make things right and I didn't. Because Mohinder doesn't hate me and even though the world's about to end, or so Bennet says, all I can think about is him.

No, not just him. Them. The moment I saw her again, the moment we were sitting there at her bedside, they became a unit. It had seemed so simple when we were all sitting there, but down here in the real world? The futility of it is like a wave of nausea. God, I can't afford this. Why did it have to feel so right? Like we were meant to be there? No. No time to start hoping again. Everything I've ever touched has turned to shit in my hands. Mohinder may not hate me, but I screwed that one up, too. There's no way I can start wanting Molly in my life, too. She's too precious to break with my big, ugly hands.

Well, first things first. Kill Sylar. Save the world. Then we'll see.

Finally arrived. That blue shadow by the statue. Must be him. If I can just get a decent shot, even he's not fast enough to dodge bullets.

He doesn't seem to hear me. Good.

I can get a little closer. Perfect.

That's it, "Dale." You've hurt the people I care about for the last time. This is for Molly's parents. This is for the real Dale. This is for the head games you played with Mohinder and this is for throwing me against that car. In short, this is for everything, you motherf--

Nice try, Matt, but I could hear you breathing ten seconds ago.

Oh, shit.




The elevator takes forever. Halfway down, I think I hear gunshots in the distance. My heart is skipping through my throat a thousand miles an hour. Molly clutches my hand and jumps a little. The family by our side is one we've met before. Lord knows how they've ended up here, but the woman seems to have calmed somewhat. She's no longer pointing shotguns at us. Instead, she seems almost squeamish. She jumps and clutches her son by the shoulders.

We come outside in time to see Bennet crushed against a wall. I've never seen anything quite like it. A man just flying backward like a lump of clay. It's shocking.

And then I see him. He's crouched against a pillar. Crumpled. He's hurt. He's bleeding.

I push Molly ahead of me. With the instinct only a mother could have, the blonde woman puts her hand on Molly's shoulder and takes her in. The moment I can tell she's in safe hands, I bolt. I don't so much run to him as I am sucked in, like gravity. Nothing could keep me away.

Bullet holes. Oh, God. He's been shot. He's bleeding so much. I press my hands to his chest. Blood gushes over my fingers. Stop, stop, stop. Please, please.

He's pale, But he's conscious. He cranes his neck to turn to face me. "Hi," he whispers.

"Don't move," I beg. I knot up my shirt, press it into one of the wounds. Crimson spreads across the fabric. There are four holes. I only have two hands. What am I going to do?

"So, gorgeous... going my way?" he rasps, laughing, then wincing as he realizes what a bad idea that is. It breaks my heart a thousand times over to see him hurt like this.

"Be quiet and keep still, I have to stop the bleeding..." It's so hard to see when my eyes are this watery. I bite my lip. "I refuse to lose you again."

"What... talking about?" He somehow manages to raise a hand and touch my face. His hands are still warm. Thank God. "Never... lost me. I lost you."

"No. No, you didn't." I'm reaching into my small bag, pulling out one of Molly's spare shirts.

"Sure I did. Can't... hold on to anything." He gasps then, and I follow his gaze just in time to see someone else fly through the air and then vanish. I blink and want to rub my eyes, but my hands are occupied. There's no way I saw that correctly. People don't vanish.

Except they do. Haven't I learned that by now? Occam's razor, Mohinder. The simplest explanation is most likely to be the correct one. If you've just seen a man vanish, it's because a man has just vanished.

Sylar is crumpled. And now... oh, my God, is that Peter Petrelli and is he glowing?

Perhaps the world truly is going to end. Selfishly, I think I'm glad I am here to see it. And I am glad I am able to spend a few moments with this man before the void comes. My thoughts are in a whirl. I can only feel blood on my fingers and see a man glowing with energy, the heat he's giving off starting to warp the air around him.

I curl my head down toward Matt's. I just want to be close to him if this is the end.

But then there is a man who can fly. Dear God, I know him, too. And he's walking to his brother's side and speaking to him in hushed tones. I'm too far away to hear what they're saying. I just know that it's terribly important. I feel tears come to my eyes.

They're both rocketing up into the sky now. And for one brilliant instant, midnight becomes noon.

I'm dimly aware of all the people around me. The young family. Molly. Bennet with his daughter. All people I've met before. They're all here now, and we are joined both by history and by this moment. By what we have seen and what we are seeing. We are witnesses, in the long and the short term, to the world being saved.

"He did it," I whisper. I taste tears on my lips. "He said he was going to save the world, and he did."

"Some guys are... just heroes," Matt says, straining to speak.

I look at him. He has no idea how true his words are, does he? He was shot tonight. Trying to take on Sylar, no doubt. Trying to protect us.

I think about what he has done since I've known him. He threw away a convenient lie to get at the truth about what was happening to him. He put up with the machinations of a psychopath and eventually walked away from me, even though it would hurt us both, to ensure my life would be safe. He put the life of a little girl above his own, went after a killer. Has this man ever done anything less than heroic?

"Not feeling so good," he mutters. "Think I might pass out..."

"Let's take care of Molly," I say.

I'm surprised at myself. Perhaps I expected to tell him I loved him, or that he would be fine, or that he really shouldn't be talking. But I didn't expect it to be that. The moment it passes my lips, though, I know it is what I want. More than anything.

He's just blinking at me. I can almost hear the blankness in his mind. "You and me," I elaborate. "Let's take care of her. She told me earlier she'd come stay with me. You should come, too. Stay with us. That would make us... would make me very happy."

He's squinting. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." I touch my forehead to his. He's clammy, and my stomach is jolting with panic. Thank God the ambulances are arriving. "Yes, I'm dead serious."

"But she..."

"Don't worry about all of that. Just say yes," I plead. I don't want him to speak. But I don't want to let it go, either. I've done far too much of that. This time, I refuse to make that mistake.

He takes a moment, looks at my face. "Stuff like that.. you can't just decide," he says, struggling for the breath. "It's not... that simple."

"Yes, it is." I feel sunshine in my heart, although the brilliance has long since faded from the sky. "It is that simple. I love you, Matt. She loves you. We can give her a family. Don't you think it's curious? That you and I should both know this girl, and be there when she needs us?" I'm laughing. I think I'm crying, just a little. "That's fate. It has to be."

He smiles a bitter smile, coughs. A little spatter of blood flies at me. "Thought you... were a scientist. Didn't... believe in fate." The pain that flashes across his face nearly kills me.

"Occam's razor," I say. His eyebrows knot in confusion. "The simplest explanation is the most likely one. There's a little girl over there we both adore. You do, don't you? Adore her?" He nods gravely, glancing over at her. She's still holding the blonde woman tight, but her eyes meet his and I can see the flash of connection between them from here. "Isn't that enough? Doesn't that make us a family?"

He's silent. I go on. "It's that simple, Matt. You were right. It was always that simple. Please."

He's slipping out of consciousness now. I want to shake him awake, want to slap him until he's able to answer. Instead, all I can do is lower my eyes. "Please," I repeat.

I think I hear him whisper something before he drifts away. I don't know what it is.

~~~


As the stretchers carry him away, Molly runs to his side. She begs him not to die. "You're my hero," she pleads.

I come up behind her, kneel and put my arms around her waist. "He'll be OK, right?"

I nearly tell her that I don't know, that the doctors will have to examine him and there's no telling how serious the shots were. That I wish I could give her a guarantee, but there are none in life, she knows that already. That life is fragile and the human body is a complex thing and that we will just have to pray that he makes it.

But then I say, "Yes. He'll be fine." And I'm shocked to discover that I believe it completely. I can even see it.

He'll be fine, and when he wakes up he'll smile at the sight of both of us there at his bedside. And I'll ask him again if he'll come stay with us and he'll start crying and say yes. And we'll all three be crying and laughing and from that moment on, we'll be a family.

Because after all this-- after finding each other, nearly losing each other, discovering we have this child in common, surviving the end of the world-- there's no way the story ends here.

It's as simple as that.

:the end:

Previous comments:

From jessi_br00tal: I can't believe I didn't notice you had this last chapter up! And OMG what an ending! This was so great, I loved how canon it was while still keeping it's own strong story line. I loved it. I'm kinda sad it's over, haha. I'm glad at least one of them finally said "I love you", and I'm glad there was a happy ending. I loved how much growth you showed in Mohinder (mostly due to Molly), and my heart broke for Matt so much. Amazing work! ♥

From arabella_w: OMG!! I wish I know more that two languages to tell you in all of them how marvelous this final chapter was! but thinking about it I don't need more languages, I just need to congratulate you for keeping me in the edge of the sit during all the fic, for all that heart-clenching moments, for all the cute and that hot scene in the desert. wonderful.

From boudecia7: Daaaamn. How is it you can write along the frame of a story I know the end to, and still keep me holding my breath?

This was so beautiful. Everything came together so perfectly with canon at the end, especially with Sylar and Molly. It would be easy to believe that Matt and Mohinder's relationship was just as you've written, if only Matt *had* picked up that phone instead of Janice.

I love you so much for this beautiful story; your imagination and writing never cease to amaze me! <3<3<3<3

From trinipedia: *moved*

this was, without a doubt, my favourite AU long fic in this fandom.

they were all so real!

I loved this, Tippie, you're amazing.

From ilsaluvsrick: I know I've been reading this every step and commenting like mad, but just had to say:

YOU DID IT BABE!!!!!

And it rocked the Casbah. Loved it so much and I declare here before the many witnesses of the Internets, that this is now canon for me. Screw Kring and his Mylar Roadtrip. This is what happened on the show. Matt and Mohinder are a couple and have been since dusty desert sex and the wonderful no-tell motel. Any other suggestion to me gets fingers in the ears and singing la, la, la.

Congrats for writing not only one of the most plausible AU's I've ever read, but one which actually made the show canon richer. I know I already mentioned it, but when I filter the show through your version of events it all seems so much more meaningful. I love you for that.

From teecub: Okay. I totally cooed out loud at the end! OMG but it was amazing. Matt WILL say yes, because there is no possible way he could say no! Oooooh but this was amazing. The end is stunning, the buildup you gave us and then the finale - perfectly played out! Hehe! Well, gotta run to class. Thanks for sharing! <3

From carmexgirl: Even though I knew the end, you made it so much more... beautiful. I can't thank you enough for that! This was all so lovely - Mohinder's realisation that yes, it can be that simple, and Matt trying to kill Sylar in the face of insurmountable odds. Everything in the show means so much more now becuase of this, and I thank you for it!

From crystal_mk: It's over?! I'm kinda sad to see that it's over but love how you ended it. You kept to the larger premise of canon but carried your own storyline under it all so well. Although in my mind Sylar stayed dead. But that's just me.
As always, you never cease to impress me and this series was simply awesome.

From hanuueshe: Mohinder finally using Occam's razor to allow himself to just go with the flow is just so Mohinder. The little tounge in cheek "it doesn't end here" made me giggle a little bit. You wove this so well into canon that I could really, really see everything that happened, in this last chapter especially. Matt's confrontation with Dale/Sylar at the end was particularly wonderful, because physically it happened almost exactly like canon, but there was about seven more layers than the "he's Molly's hero, who also happenes to be a really good cop" we got in canon, but in your story, he really was defending his family. And the fact that your story ends almost identically to season one, and you could very believably start off with season two from here.

I'd ask for a sequel, but I gather this was one of those stories that ensnared you with a begining, but then had to be dragged kicking and screaming past the middle to the end, and I wouldn't want to put you through that again. :D So, well done, I can't wait for your next story, whether it turns into an epic or not.

From 00smut: Huzzah!

You are amazing. This fic is amazing. <3

From starlingthefool: YAAAAAAAYYY! M3 together again! This was such a fun AU take on the events of Season 1. Loved the series. This is so going into the memories.

From saavikam77: EEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!! XD

Fantastic ending, hon!! ^_^ I love the way you threaded Matt/Mo into everything else that was going on. Just perfect. And that it was a simple twist of fate that brought them all together as a family made so much sense, the whole notion of fate or destiny having a hand in it, and it being so utterly *simple*... PERFECT! ^_^

*applauds wildly*
 
 
 
Spondylus princepsmullu on July 9th, 2008 01:19 am (UTC)
I just found this (kinda new to the fandom *waves*), and it's absolutely awesome. I've been going around some of your other stuff (I hope I've commented there as well, but I don't really remember) and it was awesome, too. But THIS...

You know that whole thing with the alternate future, bomb exploding and all? How it was all canon and yet it didn't happen in canon (at least not in the same way... we don´t know what S3 has to say about it)?

So, what I was trying to say was: That's what this fic is. Parallel Universe Canon. Just like 5YG. Perfect, perfect canon.

*
*
*

Spoiler alert (albeit, quite a known, silly spoiler)

*
*
*


And you know how, even after the city was saved, future Peter and Claire go around with the exact same scar and hair color, because minor twists of fate can´t easily alter... you know, fate?

Well... Matt and Mo met in a different way. Minor twist of fate. But this... this undeniable thing that is a part of them (way beyond the way a scar of a hair color can be)... this is fate, and can't possibly be changed.
Tiptoe39: thank youtiptoe39 on July 9th, 2008 01:49 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! What a sweet comment! And I really appreciate you taking the time to dig up my old fics! :D
bellonablack on July 11th, 2008 09:50 pm (UTC)
Well, I read the whole story, and I enjoyed this one as well :-). All your characterizations were spot-on, in my opinion.

"Sure I did. Can't... hold on to anything."

God. I felt alot of Matt's pain in this fiction; I think he's the type of guy who does *try* and does put himself out there, with alot on his shoulders, and I loved his protective streak. I also like the fact that you give him his due as a cop, and as a person who could be a detective. His skills at looking at Sylar's hands and just having that click into place, is a nice touch and again, a due to his character. His perception and his solid personality and even though Sylar forced him into a corner, he put Mohinder first (positive outcome or not...). Interesting guy, the way you drew out his good points.

And his good points with Mohinder's personality. :-) I like Mohinder's determination not to offer himself as the person to be protected entirely, and I think I saw Mohinder's caring about these special people and taking Sylar's actions on his own shoulders. I think they match up well with these qualities.

I also thought your depiction of Sylar was closest to how I see him in the show, well, among those depictions. His manipulation, his social problems, and his twisting of relationships (I think that's a big point of his character, besides praying on other's weaknesses in general). And how his character is more about transcending (hah, hope I spelt that right!). I believe even if Sylar wasn't (well, a serial killer), he and Matt still wouldn't get on well. Nice catch on that.

Good job! <3

-BB
Tiptoe39: thank youtiptoe39 on July 11th, 2008 10:04 pm (UTC)
Hey, what nice and thoughtful feedback! I'm really happy that my fic sparked such thought. I really agree with you about a lot of those characterization notes. Especially with Matt as being a good detective; if you rewatch Season 1 you'll see that he does in fact pick up on things that others don't - he and Audrey are going to leave Ted's house when he sees something she didn't and they go inside.

A lot of Sylar's characterization in this was also sparked by my re-watching of Season 1. I realized, when he's not manipulating, he's actually kind of awkward... that whole line about um, it's not just cause you're from India... awk---ward! So I wanted to mix those two personas.

Really thank you so much! what nice feedback to get!
Shoneéscarletfbl on July 20th, 2008 01:16 pm (UTC)
I thought that you were going to have Matt die! I totally love you for not doing that.

Wonderful story.
Tiptoe39: pridetiptoe39 on July 20th, 2008 02:05 pm (UTC)
thanks for sitting and reading it through this morning! i enjoyed reading your comments! Hugs!
mrs_sakuma: dean's awesomemrs_sakuma on July 14th, 2011 03:45 am (UTC)
alright, so i just finished this and have been bowled over.

this was brilliant. you captured their voices perfectly and wove the relationship beautifully. i don't know how you managed to make this so believably and incredibly canon-esque. this is so easily possible if that ONE thing had played out differently. if matt had answered that call, or even just called him back after janice told him, everything could have changed, just a little bit. but that little bit would be just enough.

incredible work, here.~
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on July 14th, 2011 03:54 am (UTC)
Thank you so, so much! It's nice to know these old stories still work :)) Thanks for taking the trip over from ff.net, I'm so glad you enjoyed!