"Anger" (Molly/Micah eventually) PG
Jun. 26th, 2007 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starsthatshineTitle: Anger
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aliasagent
Pairing: Molly/Micah (eventually)
Rating: PG
Summary: Was she ready to get another man's blood on her hands?
Notes: Based on the word 'Hate' forheroes50. You can find my other Molly/Micah stories from the same project here. I recommend that you read them first.
Peter led her inside the apartment. Molly couldn't help but catch glances as he led her into the kitchen. It was so empty; the walls were bare and not even so much as a plant visible anywhere. All she could see was the doormat in the hallway and the one light bulb lightening the otherwise quite depressing hallway.
Things didn't change much when she came into the kitchen. There was barely an item in sight. She couldn't see but she could assume that there were some layers of dust over the stove and she spotted a few of dirty places lying in the sink, stained with some small red dots that looked like leftovers.
The walls were in a dark-brown colour and the fridge as the rest of the kitchen supplies were mostly in white. There was something inside the whole apartment that reflected Peter's current mood, Molly thought.
Peter sat down on one of the chairs, sitting as if he was waiting for an attack, always on edge. He pointed to the chair on the other side of the table. "Sit."
He pretended not to notice Molly's surprised gazes around the room and adjusted himself in his seat, turning to face her. His grim eyes narrowed but there was something in his expression that told Molly that he was trying to be as polite as possible. Some streak of the old Peter Petrelli was still visible, or maybe Molly was just imagining things.
"Mohinder's been calling all around about you, you know." Peter commented and leaned back in his chair, his eyes observing Molly as if to see her reaction.
Molly looked away, glancing at the fridge. A part of her felt embarrassed knowing that Mohinder had been worried, but the stronger part of her still resented him for everything he'd done.
The teenager decided not to pay any attention to it and turned back to Peter, who was appearing to be mildly surprised.
"You don't wanna see him?" Somehow that didn't feel like a question.
Molly shook her head. "No." Somehow there was a level of harshness that hadn't been intended in her voice.
Peter looked past her, just over her shoulder, tilting his head upwards as if he was searching for something. Then he turned his attention back to Molly. "Why's that then?"
Molly adjusted herself uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers tugging against the hem of her sleeve. Could she trust him? Molly looked him straight in the eye, trying to understand him.
"Promise me you won't tell Mohinder." She stated with dead certainty. Her gaze was fixed, calm as she stated her demand and Peter nodded, accepted the terms, leaning forward to hear the rest of the story.
"I overheard you... and him on the phone a couple of days ago," Molly glanced at him, waiting to see if he'd interrupt, but he didn't, instead it seemed like his interest was peaked and he listened with all the concentration he could muster. "Talking... about Sylar..."
The name felt dead on her lips.
Molly looked away again.
"He's been lying to me," her voice cracked and she could feel the tears welling up inside again. She had come to terms with it during her search for Peter, but telling it to someone else brought it all back again.
"All this time, he was lying to me. He told me he was dead. Dead and gone, "you don't need to worry about him any more". That's what he said. He killed my parents! And he... he forgave him for it!" A single tear fell down her cheek, travelling over her pale skin.
Peter's face was unreadable as he thought for a moment. "Maybe he thought he was protecting you." He leaned back again, his finger by his chin in a contemplating pose.
"Protecting me?" Molly spoke the words as if they were alien, something strange she had never heard before, "I deserved to know! You didn't hear what he did! You didn't hear him on the other side of the wall, murdering your parents! You didn't hear them beg for their lives! You didn't... You didn’t hear him laugh about it. You…” she paused for a moment, “Why did you know?"
Molly's eyes were glittering with tears in the faint light and Peter's face relaxed more and there seemed to be a level of sympathy displaced on his face, but it didn't go all the way. There were still other things tormenting his mind.
"I found him," Peter said with an indifferent voice but the way his face twisted as he spoke them suggested that he hated every syllable and meaning of the words he was saying, "I found him down in the sewers one night. He'd been living down there for months, the murdering parasite. I found him and brought him to a hospital. I called Noah and...
"He called Mohinder in return, thinking he deserved to know," Peter's jaw tightened and Molly noticed that his hand was now curled into a fist, "Then we discussed what we were going to do. Mohinder, of course, wanted to give him a second chance,” Peter snorted as if he found the idea of second chances incredibly idiotic, “It seemed like the only idea at the time because the rest of us didn't feel like getting fresh bloods on our hands, at least not any time soon."
Then, Peter seemed to disconnect, his face became distant as if he was reliving the memory, his face turned expressionless once more and he regain consciousness. "That was that," he said, "Anything else?"
Molly thought for a moment. It didn't seem enough, this explanation. She wanted something more, something more... revealing. She didn't understand any better why he had done it, only that he had.
She opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came out. What would she say? What did she want to know? What possible answers did she hope to get from this? She needed to find him, Sylar, and give him the justice he deserved.
Peter suddenly winced and looked up at Molly, a new almost maddening spark in his eyes. He looked like a junkie who'd just been told that he could get his hands on free drugs. The sight was unnerving. The desperation and insane hope that lit Peter’s entire face up was much more frightening than any hollow eyes. Because this was worse.
This was the sight that created nightmares.
"Looks like we have similar goals." He said in a new, completely different voice. This was the voice of the madman, the junkie, who just spotted hope in the horizon. More than hope, he'd spotted victory. With Molly's help, Peter could find Sylar and finish what he'd wanted to do for years.
Molly looked away, thinking.
Was she ready to get another man's blood on her hands?
Like? Hate? Feedback is gold :D
Author:
aliasagentPairing: Molly/Micah (eventually)
Rating: PG
Summary: Was she ready to get another man's blood on her hands?
Notes: Based on the word 'Hate' for
heroes50. You can find my other Molly/Micah stories from the same project here. I recommend that you read them first.Peter led her inside the apartment. Molly couldn't help but catch glances as he led her into the kitchen. It was so empty; the walls were bare and not even so much as a plant visible anywhere. All she could see was the doormat in the hallway and the one light bulb lightening the otherwise quite depressing hallway.
Things didn't change much when she came into the kitchen. There was barely an item in sight. She couldn't see but she could assume that there were some layers of dust over the stove and she spotted a few of dirty places lying in the sink, stained with some small red dots that looked like leftovers.
The walls were in a dark-brown colour and the fridge as the rest of the kitchen supplies were mostly in white. There was something inside the whole apartment that reflected Peter's current mood, Molly thought.
Peter sat down on one of the chairs, sitting as if he was waiting for an attack, always on edge. He pointed to the chair on the other side of the table. "Sit."
He pretended not to notice Molly's surprised gazes around the room and adjusted himself in his seat, turning to face her. His grim eyes narrowed but there was something in his expression that told Molly that he was trying to be as polite as possible. Some streak of the old Peter Petrelli was still visible, or maybe Molly was just imagining things.
"Mohinder's been calling all around about you, you know." Peter commented and leaned back in his chair, his eyes observing Molly as if to see her reaction.
Molly looked away, glancing at the fridge. A part of her felt embarrassed knowing that Mohinder had been worried, but the stronger part of her still resented him for everything he'd done.
The teenager decided not to pay any attention to it and turned back to Peter, who was appearing to be mildly surprised.
"You don't wanna see him?" Somehow that didn't feel like a question.
Molly shook her head. "No." Somehow there was a level of harshness that hadn't been intended in her voice.
Peter looked past her, just over her shoulder, tilting his head upwards as if he was searching for something. Then he turned his attention back to Molly. "Why's that then?"
Molly adjusted herself uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers tugging against the hem of her sleeve. Could she trust him? Molly looked him straight in the eye, trying to understand him.
"Promise me you won't tell Mohinder." She stated with dead certainty. Her gaze was fixed, calm as she stated her demand and Peter nodded, accepted the terms, leaning forward to hear the rest of the story.
"I overheard you... and him on the phone a couple of days ago," Molly glanced at him, waiting to see if he'd interrupt, but he didn't, instead it seemed like his interest was peaked and he listened with all the concentration he could muster. "Talking... about Sylar..."
The name felt dead on her lips.
Molly looked away again.
"He's been lying to me," her voice cracked and she could feel the tears welling up inside again. She had come to terms with it during her search for Peter, but telling it to someone else brought it all back again.
"All this time, he was lying to me. He told me he was dead. Dead and gone, "you don't need to worry about him any more". That's what he said. He killed my parents! And he... he forgave him for it!" A single tear fell down her cheek, travelling over her pale skin.
Peter's face was unreadable as he thought for a moment. "Maybe he thought he was protecting you." He leaned back again, his finger by his chin in a contemplating pose.
"Protecting me?" Molly spoke the words as if they were alien, something strange she had never heard before, "I deserved to know! You didn't hear what he did! You didn't hear him on the other side of the wall, murdering your parents! You didn't hear them beg for their lives! You didn't... You didn’t hear him laugh about it. You…” she paused for a moment, “Why did you know?"
Molly's eyes were glittering with tears in the faint light and Peter's face relaxed more and there seemed to be a level of sympathy displaced on his face, but it didn't go all the way. There were still other things tormenting his mind.
"I found him," Peter said with an indifferent voice but the way his face twisted as he spoke them suggested that he hated every syllable and meaning of the words he was saying, "I found him down in the sewers one night. He'd been living down there for months, the murdering parasite. I found him and brought him to a hospital. I called Noah and...
"He called Mohinder in return, thinking he deserved to know," Peter's jaw tightened and Molly noticed that his hand was now curled into a fist, "Then we discussed what we were going to do. Mohinder, of course, wanted to give him a second chance,” Peter snorted as if he found the idea of second chances incredibly idiotic, “It seemed like the only idea at the time because the rest of us didn't feel like getting fresh bloods on our hands, at least not any time soon."
Then, Peter seemed to disconnect, his face became distant as if he was reliving the memory, his face turned expressionless once more and he regain consciousness. "That was that," he said, "Anything else?"
Molly thought for a moment. It didn't seem enough, this explanation. She wanted something more, something more... revealing. She didn't understand any better why he had done it, only that he had.
She opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came out. What would she say? What did she want to know? What possible answers did she hope to get from this? She needed to find him, Sylar, and give him the justice he deserved.
Peter suddenly winced and looked up at Molly, a new almost maddening spark in his eyes. He looked like a junkie who'd just been told that he could get his hands on free drugs. The sight was unnerving. The desperation and insane hope that lit Peter’s entire face up was much more frightening than any hollow eyes. Because this was worse.
This was the sight that created nightmares.
"Looks like we have similar goals." He said in a new, completely different voice. This was the voice of the madman, the junkie, who just spotted hope in the horizon. More than hope, he'd spotted victory. With Molly's help, Peter could find Sylar and finish what he'd wanted to do for years.
Molly looked away, thinking.
Was she ready to get another man's blood on her hands?
Like? Hate? Feedback is gold :D
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Date: 2007-06-27 09:07 am (UTC)