FIC: Peace on Earth, Good Will Towards Men (Heroes, 6/6)
Title: Peace on Earth, Good Will Towards Men (6/6)
Author: Amy (fox1013)
Artists: art by cathybites and cover art by slodwick
Fandom: Heroes
Genre: gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: somewhere in the neighborhood of 32,000
Warnings/Spoilers: Through "How to Stop an Exploding Man"
Summary: Just because they're younger doesn't mean they're not heroes.
Notes: Written for the heroes_bigboom.
Escaping as soon as they finished had seemed like such a great plan. The kind of plan that would work perfectly, because the hard part was done now, and all that they had to do was run.
Somehow, Micah had forgotten that getting out would be exactly as hard as getting in was, except now they had screwed with the computer system, so people knew to expect them. Which meant they were looking for them. In a building everyone else knew, that to him was nothing but a never-ending labyrinth of empty halls.
Empty halls with surveillance equipment.
Crap.
He pressed himself hard against the wall. "Molly!" he hissed. "Get back."
She was frozen. "There's a security camera," she said, looking up at it slowly, as though any sudden movement might make its electronic eye more aware of her presence than it already was.
"I know," he said. "Just come here. Please?"
Molly either believed him or figured being against the wall would at least keep her more out of sight, because she edged over to stand next to him. If she was going to go this slowly the entire time, Micah thought, they'd get caught before they even got through this hall.
Micah took a deep breath, in and then out, and then stared back up at the camera. It was attached to the ceiling. "You're going to have to lift me up," he said
Molly raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"I have to get to the camera," he said. "I can't reach it on my own."
"You're bigger than me."
"Just for a minute."
"I can't lift you."
"Molly, come on. Are we heroes or not?"
She eyed him suspiciously. Then she pulled off her coat, her mittens, and her scarf, and placed them all in a neat pile. But finally, once she decided she was ready or whatever, Molly bent down and cupped her hands around knee-level, making a step for him. Micah had one foot settled and was about to climb up to her shoulders when she pulled her hands back, almost knocking him over in the process.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"Take off your shoes first."
"They're sneakers," Micah said.
"They'll hurt."
Sighing, Micah kicked off his shoes. "Ready now?"
"Ready."
She leaned over again, same position. He stepped on her hands, and as she boosted him up he used the leverage to clamber up to her shoulders. Molly was stronger than he'd expected. She swayed a little, but she didn't let him fall.
They were both kind of short, though. Micah wished they could work with Mr. Fantastic; he could have just gotten taller.
"Higher?" Micah said.
Molly grunted a little as she stretched more. He was pretty sure she was shaking a little from his weight. At least she was trying. He extended his arms as far as he could, and- good- he could just reach the camera.
"Micah, hurry up," Molly said.
Sure, now she wanted to rush. For a second, he considered jumping, hanging on, tearing the camera from the wall. Once the camera was in his hands he knew what to do, though. He always did.
After he was ready- and really, it took barely any time at all, unlike when Molly had to go through the whole pin ordeal - he jumped own from Molly's shoulders and landed hard. When he turned around to glance up at her, she was rubbing her neck.
"You could have warned me," Molly said. "Ow."
Pain was still shooting up Micah's legs, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. "Sorry," he said. He found his first shoe, and pulled it on.
"Did you break the camera?" Molly asked.
"I told it to run some old footage on a loop," Micah said. "You know, like in Speed?"
"What's Speed?" Molly asked.
Girls. "Never mind. It'll work. I promise."
"You sure?"
Micah took a sharp, short breath, then blew it out. "Yeah. I'm sure."
He pulled on his second shoe, then tightened the laces on both sneakers. "Ready?" he asked.
"Ready."
They took off running, hands clasped together tightly so they wouldn't get separated. Molly's hands were cool, and small, and a little bit sweaty. Micah could feel crumbly bits of dirt that had probably come from his sneakers, and the band of one of her rings dug into the side of his finger. Which was annoying. But she could run just as fast as she could, and that was what mattered.
That hall led to another, led to another, led to another. Every door seemed to lead to a more complicated part of an infinite maze, twisting and turning until Micah couldn't swear they weren't getting farther and farther from any kind of exit. Molly seemed confident, though, and Micah was willing to match her step for step until she stopped in her tracks and dragged him to a halt.
Somehow, they'd found the elevator bank.
"They're going to be here soon," Micah said.
"I know. Shut up."
It took Micah a minute to realize where she was looking. The emergency exit map. Molly squinted, then pointed. "There."
"What?:"
She pointed at the map again. "They're right there. Eight floors up. In that elevator."
Micah glanced from the sign to the elevators and back again. On the map, four elevators were equidistant from the bright red you are here X. "Which one?"
Molly finally dragged her eyes away from the sign. "That one," she said, pointing.
"Are you sure?"
She rolled her eyes like that wasn't a reasonable question. "Um, yeah."
Micah laid a hand on the wall right next to it, and concentrated as hard as he could.
"Micah," Molly said, "come on."
"I'm going as fast as I can," Micah said.
"You don't need to yell."
"I'm not yelling," Micah said, before deciding it wouldn't actually be worth it. "I'm just- Never mind."
Molly evaluated him for a second, then nodded. "Just do your best," she said quietly. She was twitching, just a little, impatience registering on her face, but she was trying to be supportive. Which was good.
"Okay," Micah said. "This elevator's taken care of."
"And one's coming for us?"
Because Molly was clearly crazy. "It's an emergency," Micah said, pointing to the sign right over the map Molly stood by. In case of emergency, use stairs.
"It's not that kind of emergency," Molly said.
"If we're in an elevator and they find us, it will be."
"They won't," Molly said. "I can keep track of where they are. But if we take the stairs, they can surround us."
On the list of things worth fighting about while they were on the run from the bad guys, this wasn't even in Micah's top ten. "Do we want to go up or down?" he asked.
"Can you fly?"
"No."
"Down." Molly's habit of saying things like they were obvious was getting more irritating by the minute. "Micah, they're going to figure out what's going on and take the stairs-"
"I got it." As Micah spoke, an empty elevator clattered to their floor, and they both jumped in. Molly jammed a finger at the button for the garage over and over, but although the key lit up, the doors stayed open. Molly looked like she was about to burst into tears, so Micah gently tapped the door close button, and soon they were hurtling downwards.
"What if someone tries to get on from another floor?" Molly asked.
"They won't." Out of everything they'd done, Micah was maybe most confident about that.
Molly didn't question him, which was nice.
Even if this was maybe one of the times when she really should have. Micah pressed a hand on the electric panel, and the elevator shuddered to a stop. "Molly?"
"Yeah?"
"Where are we going when we get downstairs?"
Her face mirrored how he felt. "Oops."
"We can't go find my mom and dad," Micah said. "They don't even know we're in the city."
"We could go to Mohinder's," Molly offered.
"They all know where Mohinder lives."
Molly's hands settled on her hips. "Well, where do you want to go? Maybe we should just stay in this elevator until the entire city blows up?"
Micah rolled his eyes. When Molly was being cool, he could forget how much younger than him she was. Times like this, though, it all came back. "We took care of the bomb," Micah reminded her. We think came after it, but only in his head.
"We have to go somewhere," Molly continued.
"Where?"
Molly sighed, a little huff of annoyance that Micah was pretty sure was more at the situation than at him. "Are we safer on a bus or on the subway?" she asked finally, even though they both knew the answer: after eleven PM, two ten-year-olds without adults would get attention anywhere they went.
"Fewer people will notice us on the subway," Micah said. "When I go places with my dad on the subway, there are always some kids alone, and no one ever says anything." Micah didn't mention that they'd never gone out after nine PM, that he'd never ridden a New York City bus at night to compare the two, or that he was pretty sure that no matter where they were, even if the bad guys weren't looking for them, a white girl and a biracial boy who were already starting to bruise would stand out in the crowd.
But the bad guys were looking for them.
Micah started the elevator again.
"Subway," Molly said. "Okay. Do you know where the nearest station is?"
"No." The elevator lurched to a stop, and Micah held a hand over the door open button, then followed Molly out.
"How do you not know?"
Molly was maybe the most frustrating person Micah had ever met. And he'd spent years figuring out when his mom was his mom and when she was someone else. "You don't either," he pointed out. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands. He knew it was cold out, but after dark it was even colder than usual.
Molly pulled her knit hat lower on her face, probably just so she could glare at Micah more efficiently. "I don't make friends with electronics," she said.
"I don't make friends with them," Micah said. "Don't make it sound so stupid. I understand them."
"Whatever."
"It's not whatever. I mean, you're like a human GPS device." Micah stalked forward, a few paces ahead of her now, aiming to get outside before she could, even if that just meant he would freeze to death first. Even if getting outside meant he would have to figure out where to go.
"Well, no wonder you can't talk to me then." Molly called haughtily from behind him. "I'm not a machine."
"You expect me to be, though. Of course I should know where the nearest subway-"
"One block that way."
Molly and Micah spun around, almost in unison. The security guard mostly just looked like a kindly old grandfather- although, Micah reminded himself, at first so did Linderman. But Linderman had always had a weird air about him, cold and hard. This man, clothed in a navy blue uniform that didn't quite fit, was watching them with mild concern. He didn't look like he could beat Molly or Micah in a footrace, and he didn't look like he could hire someone to do it for him either.
"I couldn't help but overhear," the security guard continued almost apologetically. "It sounds like you kids are having some problems. Maybe it would be best to head home?"
As it turned out, all that it took for the two of them to stop fighting was for a single stranger to overhear them and wonder what they were doing. "Sorry," Micah said immediately. "We were just a little upset. Because we're lost. My sister and I will go straight home." At the guard's suspicious look, Micah elaborated. "Half sister. But we live together. With our-"
"Hey," the security guard said. "I don't need your life story. Just go find a train home. And maybe call your parents first, before they call the police."
"Thank you, officer," Molly said politely. She grabbed Micah's arm, and they both turned towards the exit. The wind was strong and unnecessarily harsh; both of them instinctively ducked their faces towards the ground to avoid the cold whipping into their eyes.
"Oh, and son?" the security guard called.
Micah turned back again, appreciating the break from the wind but not what he figured was coming up. "Yes, sir?"
"Put down the video games for a while and pay some attention to your girlfriend."
"Not my girlfriend," Micah muttered to her as they took off.
"Micah?" Molly said through her scarf, not even turning around to look at him.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
*
The subway station had a giant map, which showed all of the different routes and which lines went where and everything. Molly was ignoring the subway stops entirely; she just kept touching different parts of the map. She wasn't telling Micah what anything was, but he figured she knew.
"This is where we are," she said finally, pointing. "And this is where everyone else is. I mean, Claire, your dad, Hiro- everyone."
"So we go there and help?"
"But this is where Miss Sakamoto is." Her finger moved in the other direction. The opposite direction from where Micah's parents were.
"So what do we do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"Find her," Micah said immediately. "So she can't hurt more people."
"Yeah," Molly said. "That's what I thought."
She encircled his wrist with her hand. Her fingers were thin and bony. "Come on, I'll show you."
"We don't have MetroCards," Micah said.
Molly rolled her eyes. "Come on, can't you take care of that?"
*
Miss Sakamoto's office wasn't on the office directory. In fact, it wasn't in the phone book, either. The signs all claimed the building was only thirty-two stories, when Molly was convinced they needed to go to thirty-four. And the security guard on duty, when questioned, insisted he'd never met anyone by that name.
But Molly knew she was there, and that was enough.
They waited until the security guard was distracted- which didn't take long; he was staring outside at the freshly-falling snow like a little kid- and they got into the nearest elevator.
"Micah," Molly said, "This doesn't go to thirty-four."
"Yes, it does," Micah said. He rested his hand against a wall, and breathed in and out slowly. This part was easy. When the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, the numbers three and four were directly opposite Micah and Molly, cool golden cut-outs attached to the wall.
"This is it?" Molly said.
"I think so."
"So now we just have to find her office, right?"
"That way." If nothing else, Molly was good at what she did.
Molly led Micah to the door, but then she stepped aside.
"What?" Micah asked.
"You first."
"Why me first?"
"Because I found her office. You're the one with the power that can actually do something to her."
"Only if she's a robot!" Micah hissed.
"Just go in," Molly said, and pushed him gently. Micah could think of a thousand reasons why not to go in, but then he thought of New York City exploding, and his mom and dad going with it. He opened the door.
Molly grabbed his hand. He was, he realized, glad.
Sitting at the desk was Miss Sakamoto, just like in the comic books. When she smiled, she didn't look anything like the lady in the pictures with Mr. Linderman, but when she frowned, it was a perfect match. She had been frowning, until she saw them, and then she smiled. "Micah," she said. "Micah Sanders, right?"
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
"I know your mother," she said. "She talked a lot about you."
"Which mother?" Micah asked. He didn't think his mom would talk to one of the bad guys. But he also didn't think Jessica would be willing to deal with someone who thought she was in this much control.
Miss Sakamoto didn't answer. She probably didn't even understand the question, so she ignored it. Which was good. That told Micah more than an actual answer could have. "We've been looking for you for a while."
Micah was thankful for all the comics he'd read. If nothing else, they made him much faster at quipping when he was fighting a bad guy. "You weren't looking hard," he said. "I was the one who found you, and I'm ten."
"We've been using everything we have," Miss Sakamoto said. "We almost found a device to locate you, but a man stole it from us at the last minute."
Molly. She was talking about Molly. And she didn't even realize it, didn't realize that the girl standing right next to Micah was the thing she'd been trying to find. He felt her grip on his hand get tighter. Micah squeezed back and swallowed hard. "One of the bad guys?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Someone who's trying to stop us from fixing some very serious problems."
"Why do you need me?" Micah asked. "What are you trying to do?"
"We know what you can do, Micah. It's a very special gift. It would be criminal not to use it."
"I want to see my mom," Micah said. "If you know her, why isn't she here with you?"
"She'll be here later."
Micah squeezed Molly's hand one more time, and then dropped it. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, walking a few steps closer. Even at his full height he was shorter than Miss Sakamoto, but it felt better to be active.
"We're trying to stop an terrible tragedy," she said. "We had some special protection on one area of the city, but someone diverted it, and the system's stuck. We need you to get in to fix it."
Micah's stomach felt like lead. Mr. Bennet had been right. They were trying to use him to blow up the city. And they'd keep trying to use him until it worked. "I don't know how to do that," Micah said.
"We know what you did for the elections," she said. "After that, this should be easy."
"I want to see my mom."
Miss Sakamoto was a spider, all long legs and careful stalking of her prey. He couldn't meet her eyes, so he watched her shoes clicking across the tile floor. Closer and closer. Micah felt Molly edging farther and farther back. Miss Sakamoto didn't even notice. "This is a life and death situation, Micah," she said. "I promise you, I will take you to your mother as soon as-"
"Micah, now!" Molly screamed from behind him.
He didn't think. He just reacted. He threw himself at Miss Sakamoto, tackling her to the ground. He might not have been able to take a tough guy in a Santa costume, but he could take a small woman in heels, throwing her into the wall and knocking her out. As soon as she was on the ground, Molly was with him, using her scarf to tie Miss Sakamoto's hands together so she couldn't get to them.
Micah really hoped she wasn't telekinetic.
"Micah?" Molly whispered. "What do we do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"How do we stop her? Do we have to... you know?"
Kill her. "I don't know," Micah said.
"She is a bad guy," Molly said, but she sounded doubtful.
"Superman wouldn't kill her," Micah said. "Superman would make sure she went to jail. And then he'd hope that she could reform to good."
"We don't have a jail," Molly said.
"Yes, we do," Micah said. "Come on."
The security device at the door was one of those really expensive computerized ones that was supposed to deter all criminals. But it didn't work. Micah wasn't a criminal. He was a superhero. He barely had to touch it before it was humming in his hand.
"What'd you do?" Molly asked.
"She'll be trapped in there," he said. "She can't get out, no one else can get in. But we won't kill her."
"Won't she starve to death?"
"Not if New York blows up like she wants it to." He shrugged. "She has a phone in there. Someone will get her out eventually. Maybe she can find someone who walks through walls."
"Like your dad? I don't think he'd do it."
"There could be another one," Micah offered.
"I don't think that's likely."
*
It should have been harder. After everything else that happened, it should have been impossible to get home.
Except for one part: the bad guys were busy. They were busy fighting Micah's mom, and Micah's dad, and Claire, and Mohinder, and Hiro, and everyone else. None of the bad guys found Micah and Molly when they took the elevator down to the lobby, or when they walked to the subway station in the snow, or when they took the subway to the bus terminal, or when they got on the last bus home. A few people gave them strange looks, but they were ten-year-olds-out-after-midnight looks. Micah could deal with those.
Besides, it could have been much worse. The snow was coming down harder now, and the bus terminal was filled with all sorts of people who wouldn't have minded being in New York too late but didn't want to miss Christmas morning at home. There were other kids there, too. Most of them were with parents, but there were enough that no one would really notice that Micah and Molly were alone.
Micah didn't have gloves or a hat, and Molly didn't have her scarf anymore. They sat together on the ride home, Micah's right hand and Molly's left hand clasped together in the same mitten. Molly's fingers were freezing cold. Micah's probably were too, but he didn't notice.
"We saved the world," he said. "And no one even knows it."
"We know it," she said.
"That won't let us go to their stupid superhero meetings."
"Who says we need their meetings? Their meetings didn't stop a bomb."
"That's true." Micah grinned.
Molly's head lay against the window. "It's really pretty out there."
They could barely see out there. It was too dark out. But whenever they drove past a street lamp, the falling snow was illuminated for just a second.
Micah considered it.
"I think I need to sleep," he said.
"So sleep," Molly said. "I'm just watching the snow. I'll wake you a few minutes before we get there, okay?"
"It's so dark out," Micah said. "How will you even know?"
"I'll know." Molly grinned. "I always do."
And she did. She knew when they'd stop and where they'd stop, and even in the pitch-black night she found their way back to the Petrelli mansion easily.
Mrs. Petrelli had left the back door unlocked. And there was a plate of cookies lying out right by the door, looking fresh and delicious.
"For us?" Micah asked.
Molly laughed. "For Santa. Christmas Eve, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Micah took two anyway.
It seemed to take forever to get upstairs to Micah's- to their room. Everything all day had happened so fast that the last twenty steps seemed like a marathon. And then, of course, they had to change into pajamas ("You go into the bathroom," Molly had said, and Micah had immediately countered that she should, and finally they agreed that they'd both change on opposite sides of the room and not look, at all), and then they had to get into bed so that, if anyone came home, they would look like they were asleep.
"I wonder when everyone else will get back," Molly said.
"Late, probably," Micah said. "They have to fight crime."
"We fought crime and got home before two AM," Molly pointed out.
"Well, not everyone can be as heroic as us."
Molly giggled. "You know, this time last year?" she said. "I was trying to stay up waiting for Santa."
"I think this is more exciting."
"Me too."
"Hiro could totally do Santa's job," Molly pointed out. "Probably even faster than Santa. And he wouldn't need to train reindeer first."
"I wonder if someone out there can, like, talk to animals. They could train the reindeer for him."
Molly was a good person to fight crime with. She was like him; she was exhausted, but she wasn't sleeping either. Nervous energy, he knew. And a desire to find Hiro's surprise.
"Maybe we should go to sleep and just get up early," she said.
"I think we should do what Hiro told us to," Micah said. Not just because he couldn't sleep if he didn't know his mom and dad were alive, either. Also because it was Christmas, and awesome things always happened at Christmastime, if you stayed up late enough.
It was a little after three AM when everyone else got home, and they didn't take a cab or a bus like Micah or Molly had expected. They took a Hiro; he zapped back and forth between the Petrelli mansion and wherever the fight had ended, over and over. Molly and Micah were supposed to be sleeping, so they didn't get up and investigate; they just listened to the voices to identify who was back.
Hiro, obviously. Mohinder. Ando. Claire. Micah's dad. Mr. Bennet. And then, finally, his mom. He heard his mom's voice and his sigh of relief was so loud that he knew they could hear it outside.
His mom opened the door, and immediately Micah and Molly, as if on cue, played possum, slouching even more than they had been to look asleep.
"Merry Christmas, you two," Micah's dad said softly, clearly trying not to wake them. "We beat the bad guys." That was all he said before he walked back out and closed the door.
One one thousand, two one thousand, three. When Micah finally dared to open his eyes, he saw that Molly was already grinning. And so was he. It was impossible to fight that off his face. They had won.
They lay in bed, poking each other's feet and ankles with their fingers and trying to step on each other's pillows, because it was more fun than just staying still. But mostly they listened to the sounds of everyone else going to sleep. By now they were used to them.
"Are they all in bed?" Micah whispered finally. He had no idea how Molly had managed to stay awake. He was pretty sure he'd drifted off a few times. But he always woke back up. That was what really mattered.
"Yeah," Molly whispered back.
"Good." Micah turned on the light by his bed.
Now he could see that Molly had been using the moonlight, mostly as it reflected off the snow on the tree right outside their window, to read the book she'd left in his room. She let go of the front cover, allowing it to fold shut in her lap, and he watched her pupils dilate, reacting to the light.
"Do you know what we're supposed to do?" he asked.
"I think so."
"Really?"
"Draw the house again," she instructed.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Micah gave her a weird look, but he got out of his bed, and got some paper and a pencil out of Peter's desk, and carefully drew a rectangle. The sides barely wobbled at all. He put an asterisk in about where they were. You are here.
Molly pulled out a pin from her bag ("That's cheating," Micah said mildly, but it was out of habit, and neither of them really reacted to it) and then came up behind Micah, looking down at the paper. She closed her eyes and murmured "Christmas surprise. Christmas surprise." She said it over and over a few times- it must have been harder to find objects than to find people, because it didn't happen immediately like usual- and finally her hands found a place in the blueprint of the house. As soon as they did, her eyes flashed open and she smiled. "I know what we're getting," she said, and she ran.
Micah wasn't stupid. He followed her.
"What?" Micah yelled after her, trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could while they ran. "Where are we going? What are we doing?"
"Shut up," Molly called over her shoulder. "You'll wake everyone."
Like she wasn't just as loud as he was.
It seemed like they were going to the farthest corner of the house, or maybe Molly was just taking a weird route; there were more halls than Micah thought could even fit in one building. It was, he thought, kind of like the small intestines being thirty feet long.
When Molly finally stopped she was in the living room. The big one, the one you could see through the front windows of the house, the one that was dark except for a Christmas tree so brightly lit that Micah had no problem seeing every detail of the room. The presents under the tree, for example, were mostly wrapped in green and red paper (one of those, Micah knew, was his Wii- which, okay, he'd take, but only to make Mrs. Petrelli feel better), and the ribbons were mostly silver and gold. The coffee table had a slight water stain on it in one corner, in the shape of one of the goblets Mrs. Petrelli displayed in her breakfront; someone had clearly not used one of the coasters stacked in the center of the table.
Molly was standing in front of the fireplace.
It was an amazing fireplace, like one of the ones Micah had seen in those magazines his mom bought sometimes when she wanted to figure out cheap ways to make their place nicer. It was made of stone and looked really, really old. There wasn't a fire going, but there were logs laid out already, presumably to be lit the following morning.
"What is it?" Micah asked. Not that the fireplace wasn't really nice, but he'd kind of been hoping for a gaming system. If anyone could get it before it actually came out, he figured Hiro would know how to arrange it.
"Shhh," Molly said, two fingers pressed against pursed lips like she was some sort of stereotypical librarian. "Listen."
She was staring at the fireplace, concentrating intensely, her face so full of hope it was kind of scary. "Um, Molly," Micah said awkwardly. "You know that Santa isn't-"
"Micah, shut up."
He shut up. And he closed his eyes and listened carefully. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear the thumps of hooves landing on the roof.
Then he heard several loud curse words, and then, clearly annoyed, "Santa's ten times fatter than me, and he fits down the chimney no problem."
"You could just take the door."
"You have no sense of how to make an entrance."
Micah looked at Molly, his eyes widening as he recognized the voices, and she nodded, the grin almost erupting off her face. They ran together to the front door.
"Burglar alarm," Molly said.
"Got it."
Because he was doing that, she was the one who got to unlock the door, and swing it wide open. It was snowing again, just a little, and it melted when it hit anything but the snow that had already gathered. It if you weren't looking you might not even notice it. But Micah noticed.
He noticed because the wind was blowing in towards the door, whipping it into his and Molly's faces. He noticed it because just a little to his side, the glow from the tree in the window lit up the front yard, and he could see flakes falling through tiny patches of white. He noticed it because the fresh snow was clinging, just a little, to the hair of both Petrelli brothers as they stood in front of the door.
"Are you our escorts in?" Nathan asked with a grin. "Mom's hiring the help younger and younger these days."
After everything, neither Micah nor Molly knew what to say. They both stepped back and let the brothers enter the house. They tracked snow everywhere. Micah didn't think Mrs. Petrelli would mind.
"I wanted to find a sleigh," Peter told them, "but Nathan thought we should just try to get here for Christmas."
"We won," Molly told them. "We beat the bad guys."
"Congratulations," Nathan said. He shook Molly's hand as solemnly as if he were the President and she was the Secretary of Defense. Which, at this rate, didn't seem all that impossible.
Micah had a lot of questions. He wanted to know how Peter hadn't exploded, and how Nathan hadn't exploded, and where they'd come from, and how they'd gotten there (well, that part was easy- they'd flown- but where from?), and everything else about what was going on that he was sure, once the other adults knew the Petrellis were back, no one would ever tell him.
But that wasn't what mattered, right at that moment.
"Merry Christmas," Micah said. "Welcome home."
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Author: Amy (fox1013)
Artists: art by cathybites and cover art by slodwick
Fandom: Heroes
Genre: gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: somewhere in the neighborhood of 32,000
Warnings/Spoilers: Through "How to Stop an Exploding Man"
Summary: Just because they're younger doesn't mean they're not heroes.
Notes: Written for the heroes_bigboom.
Escaping as soon as they finished had seemed like such a great plan. The kind of plan that would work perfectly, because the hard part was done now, and all that they had to do was run.
Somehow, Micah had forgotten that getting out would be exactly as hard as getting in was, except now they had screwed with the computer system, so people knew to expect them. Which meant they were looking for them. In a building everyone else knew, that to him was nothing but a never-ending labyrinth of empty halls.
Empty halls with surveillance equipment.
Crap.
He pressed himself hard against the wall. "Molly!" he hissed. "Get back."
She was frozen. "There's a security camera," she said, looking up at it slowly, as though any sudden movement might make its electronic eye more aware of her presence than it already was.
"I know," he said. "Just come here. Please?"
Molly either believed him or figured being against the wall would at least keep her more out of sight, because she edged over to stand next to him. If she was going to go this slowly the entire time, Micah thought, they'd get caught before they even got through this hall.
Micah took a deep breath, in and then out, and then stared back up at the camera. It was attached to the ceiling. "You're going to have to lift me up," he said
Molly raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"I have to get to the camera," he said. "I can't reach it on my own."
"You're bigger than me."
"Just for a minute."
"I can't lift you."
"Molly, come on. Are we heroes or not?"
She eyed him suspiciously. Then she pulled off her coat, her mittens, and her scarf, and placed them all in a neat pile. But finally, once she decided she was ready or whatever, Molly bent down and cupped her hands around knee-level, making a step for him. Micah had one foot settled and was about to climb up to her shoulders when she pulled her hands back, almost knocking him over in the process.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"Take off your shoes first."
"They're sneakers," Micah said.
"They'll hurt."
Sighing, Micah kicked off his shoes. "Ready now?"
"Ready."
She leaned over again, same position. He stepped on her hands, and as she boosted him up he used the leverage to clamber up to her shoulders. Molly was stronger than he'd expected. She swayed a little, but she didn't let him fall.
They were both kind of short, though. Micah wished they could work with Mr. Fantastic; he could have just gotten taller.
"Higher?" Micah said.
Molly grunted a little as she stretched more. He was pretty sure she was shaking a little from his weight. At least she was trying. He extended his arms as far as he could, and- good- he could just reach the camera.
"Micah, hurry up," Molly said.
Sure, now she wanted to rush. For a second, he considered jumping, hanging on, tearing the camera from the wall. Once the camera was in his hands he knew what to do, though. He always did.
After he was ready- and really, it took barely any time at all, unlike when Molly had to go through the whole pin ordeal - he jumped own from Molly's shoulders and landed hard. When he turned around to glance up at her, she was rubbing her neck.
"You could have warned me," Molly said. "Ow."
Pain was still shooting up Micah's legs, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. "Sorry," he said. He found his first shoe, and pulled it on.
"Did you break the camera?" Molly asked.
"I told it to run some old footage on a loop," Micah said. "You know, like in Speed?"
"What's Speed?" Molly asked.
Girls. "Never mind. It'll work. I promise."
"You sure?"
Micah took a sharp, short breath, then blew it out. "Yeah. I'm sure."
He pulled on his second shoe, then tightened the laces on both sneakers. "Ready?" he asked.
"Ready."
They took off running, hands clasped together tightly so they wouldn't get separated. Molly's hands were cool, and small, and a little bit sweaty. Micah could feel crumbly bits of dirt that had probably come from his sneakers, and the band of one of her rings dug into the side of his finger. Which was annoying. But she could run just as fast as she could, and that was what mattered.
That hall led to another, led to another, led to another. Every door seemed to lead to a more complicated part of an infinite maze, twisting and turning until Micah couldn't swear they weren't getting farther and farther from any kind of exit. Molly seemed confident, though, and Micah was willing to match her step for step until she stopped in her tracks and dragged him to a halt.
Somehow, they'd found the elevator bank.
"They're going to be here soon," Micah said.
"I know. Shut up."
It took Micah a minute to realize where she was looking. The emergency exit map. Molly squinted, then pointed. "There."
"What?:"
She pointed at the map again. "They're right there. Eight floors up. In that elevator."
Micah glanced from the sign to the elevators and back again. On the map, four elevators were equidistant from the bright red you are here X. "Which one?"
Molly finally dragged her eyes away from the sign. "That one," she said, pointing.
"Are you sure?"
She rolled her eyes like that wasn't a reasonable question. "Um, yeah."
Micah laid a hand on the wall right next to it, and concentrated as hard as he could.
"Micah," Molly said, "come on."
"I'm going as fast as I can," Micah said.
"You don't need to yell."
"I'm not yelling," Micah said, before deciding it wouldn't actually be worth it. "I'm just- Never mind."
Molly evaluated him for a second, then nodded. "Just do your best," she said quietly. She was twitching, just a little, impatience registering on her face, but she was trying to be supportive. Which was good.
"Okay," Micah said. "This elevator's taken care of."
"And one's coming for us?"
Because Molly was clearly crazy. "It's an emergency," Micah said, pointing to the sign right over the map Molly stood by. In case of emergency, use stairs.
"It's not that kind of emergency," Molly said.
"If we're in an elevator and they find us, it will be."
"They won't," Molly said. "I can keep track of where they are. But if we take the stairs, they can surround us."
On the list of things worth fighting about while they were on the run from the bad guys, this wasn't even in Micah's top ten. "Do we want to go up or down?" he asked.
"Can you fly?"
"No."
"Down." Molly's habit of saying things like they were obvious was getting more irritating by the minute. "Micah, they're going to figure out what's going on and take the stairs-"
"I got it." As Micah spoke, an empty elevator clattered to their floor, and they both jumped in. Molly jammed a finger at the button for the garage over and over, but although the key lit up, the doors stayed open. Molly looked like she was about to burst into tears, so Micah gently tapped the door close button, and soon they were hurtling downwards.
"What if someone tries to get on from another floor?" Molly asked.
"They won't." Out of everything they'd done, Micah was maybe most confident about that.
Molly didn't question him, which was nice.
Even if this was maybe one of the times when she really should have. Micah pressed a hand on the electric panel, and the elevator shuddered to a stop. "Molly?"
"Yeah?"
"Where are we going when we get downstairs?"
Her face mirrored how he felt. "Oops."
"We can't go find my mom and dad," Micah said. "They don't even know we're in the city."
"We could go to Mohinder's," Molly offered.
"They all know where Mohinder lives."
Molly's hands settled on her hips. "Well, where do you want to go? Maybe we should just stay in this elevator until the entire city blows up?"
Micah rolled his eyes. When Molly was being cool, he could forget how much younger than him she was. Times like this, though, it all came back. "We took care of the bomb," Micah reminded her. We think came after it, but only in his head.
"We have to go somewhere," Molly continued.
"Where?"
Molly sighed, a little huff of annoyance that Micah was pretty sure was more at the situation than at him. "Are we safer on a bus or on the subway?" she asked finally, even though they both knew the answer: after eleven PM, two ten-year-olds without adults would get attention anywhere they went.
"Fewer people will notice us on the subway," Micah said. "When I go places with my dad on the subway, there are always some kids alone, and no one ever says anything." Micah didn't mention that they'd never gone out after nine PM, that he'd never ridden a New York City bus at night to compare the two, or that he was pretty sure that no matter where they were, even if the bad guys weren't looking for them, a white girl and a biracial boy who were already starting to bruise would stand out in the crowd.
But the bad guys were looking for them.
Micah started the elevator again.
"Subway," Molly said. "Okay. Do you know where the nearest station is?"
"No." The elevator lurched to a stop, and Micah held a hand over the door open button, then followed Molly out.
"How do you not know?"
Molly was maybe the most frustrating person Micah had ever met. And he'd spent years figuring out when his mom was his mom and when she was someone else. "You don't either," he pointed out. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands. He knew it was cold out, but after dark it was even colder than usual.
Molly pulled her knit hat lower on her face, probably just so she could glare at Micah more efficiently. "I don't make friends with electronics," she said.
"I don't make friends with them," Micah said. "Don't make it sound so stupid. I understand them."
"Whatever."
"It's not whatever. I mean, you're like a human GPS device." Micah stalked forward, a few paces ahead of her now, aiming to get outside before she could, even if that just meant he would freeze to death first. Even if getting outside meant he would have to figure out where to go.
"Well, no wonder you can't talk to me then." Molly called haughtily from behind him. "I'm not a machine."
"You expect me to be, though. Of course I should know where the nearest subway-"
"One block that way."
Molly and Micah spun around, almost in unison. The security guard mostly just looked like a kindly old grandfather- although, Micah reminded himself, at first so did Linderman. But Linderman had always had a weird air about him, cold and hard. This man, clothed in a navy blue uniform that didn't quite fit, was watching them with mild concern. He didn't look like he could beat Molly or Micah in a footrace, and he didn't look like he could hire someone to do it for him either.
"I couldn't help but overhear," the security guard continued almost apologetically. "It sounds like you kids are having some problems. Maybe it would be best to head home?"
As it turned out, all that it took for the two of them to stop fighting was for a single stranger to overhear them and wonder what they were doing. "Sorry," Micah said immediately. "We were just a little upset. Because we're lost. My sister and I will go straight home." At the guard's suspicious look, Micah elaborated. "Half sister. But we live together. With our-"
"Hey," the security guard said. "I don't need your life story. Just go find a train home. And maybe call your parents first, before they call the police."
"Thank you, officer," Molly said politely. She grabbed Micah's arm, and they both turned towards the exit. The wind was strong and unnecessarily harsh; both of them instinctively ducked their faces towards the ground to avoid the cold whipping into their eyes.
"Oh, and son?" the security guard called.
Micah turned back again, appreciating the break from the wind but not what he figured was coming up. "Yes, sir?"
"Put down the video games for a while and pay some attention to your girlfriend."
"Not my girlfriend," Micah muttered to her as they took off.
"Micah?" Molly said through her scarf, not even turning around to look at him.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
*
The subway station had a giant map, which showed all of the different routes and which lines went where and everything. Molly was ignoring the subway stops entirely; she just kept touching different parts of the map. She wasn't telling Micah what anything was, but he figured she knew.
"This is where we are," she said finally, pointing. "And this is where everyone else is. I mean, Claire, your dad, Hiro- everyone."
"So we go there and help?"
"But this is where Miss Sakamoto is." Her finger moved in the other direction. The opposite direction from where Micah's parents were.
"So what do we do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"Find her," Micah said immediately. "So she can't hurt more people."
"Yeah," Molly said. "That's what I thought."
She encircled his wrist with her hand. Her fingers were thin and bony. "Come on, I'll show you."
"We don't have MetroCards," Micah said.
Molly rolled her eyes. "Come on, can't you take care of that?"
*
Miss Sakamoto's office wasn't on the office directory. In fact, it wasn't in the phone book, either. The signs all claimed the building was only thirty-two stories, when Molly was convinced they needed to go to thirty-four. And the security guard on duty, when questioned, insisted he'd never met anyone by that name.
But Molly knew she was there, and that was enough.
They waited until the security guard was distracted- which didn't take long; he was staring outside at the freshly-falling snow like a little kid- and they got into the nearest elevator.
"Micah," Molly said, "This doesn't go to thirty-four."
"Yes, it does," Micah said. He rested his hand against a wall, and breathed in and out slowly. This part was easy. When the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, the numbers three and four were directly opposite Micah and Molly, cool golden cut-outs attached to the wall.
"This is it?" Molly said.
"I think so."
"So now we just have to find her office, right?"
"That way." If nothing else, Molly was good at what she did.
Molly led Micah to the door, but then she stepped aside.
"What?" Micah asked.
"You first."
"Why me first?"
"Because I found her office. You're the one with the power that can actually do something to her."
"Only if she's a robot!" Micah hissed.
"Just go in," Molly said, and pushed him gently. Micah could think of a thousand reasons why not to go in, but then he thought of New York City exploding, and his mom and dad going with it. He opened the door.
Molly grabbed his hand. He was, he realized, glad.
Sitting at the desk was Miss Sakamoto, just like in the comic books. When she smiled, she didn't look anything like the lady in the pictures with Mr. Linderman, but when she frowned, it was a perfect match. She had been frowning, until she saw them, and then she smiled. "Micah," she said. "Micah Sanders, right?"
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
"I know your mother," she said. "She talked a lot about you."
"Which mother?" Micah asked. He didn't think his mom would talk to one of the bad guys. But he also didn't think Jessica would be willing to deal with someone who thought she was in this much control.
Miss Sakamoto didn't answer. She probably didn't even understand the question, so she ignored it. Which was good. That told Micah more than an actual answer could have. "We've been looking for you for a while."
Micah was thankful for all the comics he'd read. If nothing else, they made him much faster at quipping when he was fighting a bad guy. "You weren't looking hard," he said. "I was the one who found you, and I'm ten."
"We've been using everything we have," Miss Sakamoto said. "We almost found a device to locate you, but a man stole it from us at the last minute."
Molly. She was talking about Molly. And she didn't even realize it, didn't realize that the girl standing right next to Micah was the thing she'd been trying to find. He felt her grip on his hand get tighter. Micah squeezed back and swallowed hard. "One of the bad guys?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Someone who's trying to stop us from fixing some very serious problems."
"Why do you need me?" Micah asked. "What are you trying to do?"
"We know what you can do, Micah. It's a very special gift. It would be criminal not to use it."
"I want to see my mom," Micah said. "If you know her, why isn't she here with you?"
"She'll be here later."
Micah squeezed Molly's hand one more time, and then dropped it. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, walking a few steps closer. Even at his full height he was shorter than Miss Sakamoto, but it felt better to be active.
"We're trying to stop an terrible tragedy," she said. "We had some special protection on one area of the city, but someone diverted it, and the system's stuck. We need you to get in to fix it."
Micah's stomach felt like lead. Mr. Bennet had been right. They were trying to use him to blow up the city. And they'd keep trying to use him until it worked. "I don't know how to do that," Micah said.
"We know what you did for the elections," she said. "After that, this should be easy."
"I want to see my mom."
Miss Sakamoto was a spider, all long legs and careful stalking of her prey. He couldn't meet her eyes, so he watched her shoes clicking across the tile floor. Closer and closer. Micah felt Molly edging farther and farther back. Miss Sakamoto didn't even notice. "This is a life and death situation, Micah," she said. "I promise you, I will take you to your mother as soon as-"
"Micah, now!" Molly screamed from behind him.
He didn't think. He just reacted. He threw himself at Miss Sakamoto, tackling her to the ground. He might not have been able to take a tough guy in a Santa costume, but he could take a small woman in heels, throwing her into the wall and knocking her out. As soon as she was on the ground, Molly was with him, using her scarf to tie Miss Sakamoto's hands together so she couldn't get to them.
Micah really hoped she wasn't telekinetic.
"Micah?" Molly whispered. "What do we do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"How do we stop her? Do we have to... you know?"
Kill her. "I don't know," Micah said.
"She is a bad guy," Molly said, but she sounded doubtful.
"Superman wouldn't kill her," Micah said. "Superman would make sure she went to jail. And then he'd hope that she could reform to good."
"We don't have a jail," Molly said.
"Yes, we do," Micah said. "Come on."
The security device at the door was one of those really expensive computerized ones that was supposed to deter all criminals. But it didn't work. Micah wasn't a criminal. He was a superhero. He barely had to touch it before it was humming in his hand.
"What'd you do?" Molly asked.
"She'll be trapped in there," he said. "She can't get out, no one else can get in. But we won't kill her."
"Won't she starve to death?"
"Not if New York blows up like she wants it to." He shrugged. "She has a phone in there. Someone will get her out eventually. Maybe she can find someone who walks through walls."
"Like your dad? I don't think he'd do it."
"There could be another one," Micah offered.
"I don't think that's likely."
*
It should have been harder. After everything else that happened, it should have been impossible to get home.
Except for one part: the bad guys were busy. They were busy fighting Micah's mom, and Micah's dad, and Claire, and Mohinder, and Hiro, and everyone else. None of the bad guys found Micah and Molly when they took the elevator down to the lobby, or when they walked to the subway station in the snow, or when they took the subway to the bus terminal, or when they got on the last bus home. A few people gave them strange looks, but they were ten-year-olds-out-after-midnight looks. Micah could deal with those.
Besides, it could have been much worse. The snow was coming down harder now, and the bus terminal was filled with all sorts of people who wouldn't have minded being in New York too late but didn't want to miss Christmas morning at home. There were other kids there, too. Most of them were with parents, but there were enough that no one would really notice that Micah and Molly were alone.
Micah didn't have gloves or a hat, and Molly didn't have her scarf anymore. They sat together on the ride home, Micah's right hand and Molly's left hand clasped together in the same mitten. Molly's fingers were freezing cold. Micah's probably were too, but he didn't notice.
"We saved the world," he said. "And no one even knows it."
"We know it," she said.
"That won't let us go to their stupid superhero meetings."
"Who says we need their meetings? Their meetings didn't stop a bomb."
"That's true." Micah grinned.
Molly's head lay against the window. "It's really pretty out there."
They could barely see out there. It was too dark out. But whenever they drove past a street lamp, the falling snow was illuminated for just a second.
Micah considered it.
"I think I need to sleep," he said.
"So sleep," Molly said. "I'm just watching the snow. I'll wake you a few minutes before we get there, okay?"
"It's so dark out," Micah said. "How will you even know?"
"I'll know." Molly grinned. "I always do."
And she did. She knew when they'd stop and where they'd stop, and even in the pitch-black night she found their way back to the Petrelli mansion easily.
Mrs. Petrelli had left the back door unlocked. And there was a plate of cookies lying out right by the door, looking fresh and delicious.
"For us?" Micah asked.
Molly laughed. "For Santa. Christmas Eve, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Micah took two anyway.
It seemed to take forever to get upstairs to Micah's- to their room. Everything all day had happened so fast that the last twenty steps seemed like a marathon. And then, of course, they had to change into pajamas ("You go into the bathroom," Molly had said, and Micah had immediately countered that she should, and finally they agreed that they'd both change on opposite sides of the room and not look, at all), and then they had to get into bed so that, if anyone came home, they would look like they were asleep.
"I wonder when everyone else will get back," Molly said.
"Late, probably," Micah said. "They have to fight crime."
"We fought crime and got home before two AM," Molly pointed out.
"Well, not everyone can be as heroic as us."
Molly giggled. "You know, this time last year?" she said. "I was trying to stay up waiting for Santa."
"I think this is more exciting."
"Me too."
"Hiro could totally do Santa's job," Molly pointed out. "Probably even faster than Santa. And he wouldn't need to train reindeer first."
"I wonder if someone out there can, like, talk to animals. They could train the reindeer for him."
Molly was a good person to fight crime with. She was like him; she was exhausted, but she wasn't sleeping either. Nervous energy, he knew. And a desire to find Hiro's surprise.
"Maybe we should go to sleep and just get up early," she said.
"I think we should do what Hiro told us to," Micah said. Not just because he couldn't sleep if he didn't know his mom and dad were alive, either. Also because it was Christmas, and awesome things always happened at Christmastime, if you stayed up late enough.
It was a little after three AM when everyone else got home, and they didn't take a cab or a bus like Micah or Molly had expected. They took a Hiro; he zapped back and forth between the Petrelli mansion and wherever the fight had ended, over and over. Molly and Micah were supposed to be sleeping, so they didn't get up and investigate; they just listened to the voices to identify who was back.
Hiro, obviously. Mohinder. Ando. Claire. Micah's dad. Mr. Bennet. And then, finally, his mom. He heard his mom's voice and his sigh of relief was so loud that he knew they could hear it outside.
His mom opened the door, and immediately Micah and Molly, as if on cue, played possum, slouching even more than they had been to look asleep.
"Merry Christmas, you two," Micah's dad said softly, clearly trying not to wake them. "We beat the bad guys." That was all he said before he walked back out and closed the door.
One one thousand, two one thousand, three. When Micah finally dared to open his eyes, he saw that Molly was already grinning. And so was he. It was impossible to fight that off his face. They had won.
They lay in bed, poking each other's feet and ankles with their fingers and trying to step on each other's pillows, because it was more fun than just staying still. But mostly they listened to the sounds of everyone else going to sleep. By now they were used to them.
"Are they all in bed?" Micah whispered finally. He had no idea how Molly had managed to stay awake. He was pretty sure he'd drifted off a few times. But he always woke back up. That was what really mattered.
"Yeah," Molly whispered back.
"Good." Micah turned on the light by his bed.
Now he could see that Molly had been using the moonlight, mostly as it reflected off the snow on the tree right outside their window, to read the book she'd left in his room. She let go of the front cover, allowing it to fold shut in her lap, and he watched her pupils dilate, reacting to the light.
"Do you know what we're supposed to do?" he asked.
"I think so."
"Really?"
"Draw the house again," she instructed.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Micah gave her a weird look, but he got out of his bed, and got some paper and a pencil out of Peter's desk, and carefully drew a rectangle. The sides barely wobbled at all. He put an asterisk in about where they were. You are here.
Molly pulled out a pin from her bag ("That's cheating," Micah said mildly, but it was out of habit, and neither of them really reacted to it) and then came up behind Micah, looking down at the paper. She closed her eyes and murmured "Christmas surprise. Christmas surprise." She said it over and over a few times- it must have been harder to find objects than to find people, because it didn't happen immediately like usual- and finally her hands found a place in the blueprint of the house. As soon as they did, her eyes flashed open and she smiled. "I know what we're getting," she said, and she ran.
Micah wasn't stupid. He followed her.
"What?" Micah yelled after her, trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could while they ran. "Where are we going? What are we doing?"
"Shut up," Molly called over her shoulder. "You'll wake everyone."
Like she wasn't just as loud as he was.
It seemed like they were going to the farthest corner of the house, or maybe Molly was just taking a weird route; there were more halls than Micah thought could even fit in one building. It was, he thought, kind of like the small intestines being thirty feet long.
When Molly finally stopped she was in the living room. The big one, the one you could see through the front windows of the house, the one that was dark except for a Christmas tree so brightly lit that Micah had no problem seeing every detail of the room. The presents under the tree, for example, were mostly wrapped in green and red paper (one of those, Micah knew, was his Wii- which, okay, he'd take, but only to make Mrs. Petrelli feel better), and the ribbons were mostly silver and gold. The coffee table had a slight water stain on it in one corner, in the shape of one of the goblets Mrs. Petrelli displayed in her breakfront; someone had clearly not used one of the coasters stacked in the center of the table.
Molly was standing in front of the fireplace.
It was an amazing fireplace, like one of the ones Micah had seen in those magazines his mom bought sometimes when she wanted to figure out cheap ways to make their place nicer. It was made of stone and looked really, really old. There wasn't a fire going, but there were logs laid out already, presumably to be lit the following morning.
"What is it?" Micah asked. Not that the fireplace wasn't really nice, but he'd kind of been hoping for a gaming system. If anyone could get it before it actually came out, he figured Hiro would know how to arrange it.
"Shhh," Molly said, two fingers pressed against pursed lips like she was some sort of stereotypical librarian. "Listen."
She was staring at the fireplace, concentrating intensely, her face so full of hope it was kind of scary. "Um, Molly," Micah said awkwardly. "You know that Santa isn't-"
"Micah, shut up."
He shut up. And he closed his eyes and listened carefully. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear the thumps of hooves landing on the roof.
Then he heard several loud curse words, and then, clearly annoyed, "Santa's ten times fatter than me, and he fits down the chimney no problem."
"You could just take the door."
"You have no sense of how to make an entrance."
Micah looked at Molly, his eyes widening as he recognized the voices, and she nodded, the grin almost erupting off her face. They ran together to the front door.
"Burglar alarm," Molly said.
"Got it."
Because he was doing that, she was the one who got to unlock the door, and swing it wide open. It was snowing again, just a little, and it melted when it hit anything but the snow that had already gathered. It if you weren't looking you might not even notice it. But Micah noticed.
He noticed because the wind was blowing in towards the door, whipping it into his and Molly's faces. He noticed it because just a little to his side, the glow from the tree in the window lit up the front yard, and he could see flakes falling through tiny patches of white. He noticed it because the fresh snow was clinging, just a little, to the hair of both Petrelli brothers as they stood in front of the door.
"Are you our escorts in?" Nathan asked with a grin. "Mom's hiring the help younger and younger these days."
After everything, neither Micah nor Molly knew what to say. They both stepped back and let the brothers enter the house. They tracked snow everywhere. Micah didn't think Mrs. Petrelli would mind.
"I wanted to find a sleigh," Peter told them, "but Nathan thought we should just try to get here for Christmas."
"We won," Molly told them. "We beat the bad guys."
"Congratulations," Nathan said. He shook Molly's hand as solemnly as if he were the President and she was the Secretary of Defense. Which, at this rate, didn't seem all that impossible.
Micah had a lot of questions. He wanted to know how Peter hadn't exploded, and how Nathan hadn't exploded, and where they'd come from, and how they'd gotten there (well, that part was easy- they'd flown- but where from?), and everything else about what was going on that he was sure, once the other adults knew the Petrellis were back, no one would ever tell him.
But that wasn't what mattered, right at that moment.
"Merry Christmas," Micah said. "Welcome home."
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