"Shattered Lies," Mohinder/Molly, PG-13
Title - Shattered Lies
Rating - PG-13-ish, general ideas
Pairing - Mohinder/Molly
Challenge - heroes15 11. Promise
Originally Written - June 24, 2007
Spoilers/Warnings - An AU take on 1.20 "Five Years Gone" where Mohinder doesn't betray the president; future!fic
Summary - She should hate the man he has become while she mourns the man he was, but the only thing she can find in her heart is to love him.
Disclaimer - I don't own a thing! It all belongs to Tim Kring&company at NBC.
A/N - This fic has been nearly a month in the making, and I finally think it may be passable, but who knows? Not I.
Nothing about this choice is safe; night darkens the plaza and the safety found in the anonymity of light recedes to nothing. Three years since the successful implementation of the "miracle" drug, and their numbers have dwindled to few - those who hide and those who hunt.
She hides in plain sight; she attends college at NYU, an aspiring journalist; she has a boyfriend (cute, smiling, golden, and young); she loves her life and her friends. No one knows her secret, and those who do could never find her if she only thinks hard enough. Her life is happy and safe, but still she waits in shadows for a dark face; pitied, revered and hated, he damned them all without ever being part of the "all."
She should hate him; hate how he has made it harder than ever to hide, hate how she suppresses her gift due to his curse, hate how her life is all a lie, and all of it is his fault. She should hate the man he has become while she mourns the man he was, but the only thing she can find in her heart is to love him.
He saved her so many years before, protected her as he could before he could no longer, and then he gave her up -- sacrificed his happiness for her safety. So, she waits, feeling his presence in the building behind her, and hopes he is not too late.
Minutes tick by and trickle into hours until near midnight she feels him move; he is leaving. In her mind, she walks the stairs with him, and when he pushes through the front door juggling two bags of research, she stands just off to the side - in plain sight but not.
A lone figure at night is a rare sight, even in a city of ten million people, and she knows she stands out - young and female. And when he turns, the merger light of the street lamp reflecting off his glasses, she cannot hide a smile.
"Miss, you really shouldn't be out here alone," his voice is soft, lilting and exhausted. "Night is a dangerous place for a young woman..." He trails off as she steps forward.
"I know, Mohinder. Maybe you shouldn't have worked so late," her voice questions, teases and scolds, and she struggles to maintain her blasé attitude with the dawning comprehension and fear light his eyes.
"You shouldn't be here," he whispers frantically.
She shrugs, touched by his concern, but unconcerned. She knows the dangers of the night better than he. "I know the risks."
He takes five steps and closes the distance between them, until she can feel his breath, and the silver flecks to his thick black mane sparkle in the dim light, and in a moment, he fills in all the gaps in her fading memories.
"If you know the risks, then why are you here?" He silently, passionately, begs her to leave this place, be safe from him and the world he has created.
Resignation and defeat line the circles under his eyes, and she wonders if she is too late, if she waited too long to save him. "It's our chance," she tells him; she hates that her voice sounds shiny, rosy and oh so young; she should be more mature, more something for him.
"For what, Molly?" His eyes roam her face in a vague, distant way, but he has yet to step away from her tiny frame, and his nearness is the only sign she has that suggests pushing forward may prove fruitful.
“Escape, safety. I can protect us, hide us from them; we can go anywhere and they’ll never find us because whenever they start to look we’ll be gone. We’ll run and be free, just the two of us.” She spits the words out so quickly she wonders if he followed them before he smiles sadly and gently cups her cheek in his hand.
“How long before you tire of that life? How long before you wish you hadn’t tied yourself to the one person they’ll never let go? How long before you ask, ‘Why him?’”
His words are quiet and toxic; she wants to ignore them, but she hears truth behind his dark cynicism, and she wonders if maybe he is right. Tears form behind her eyes, tears for him, her and the future. “I won’t tire of it,” she murmurs, leaning forward so her forehead gently rests against his chest - she feels his heart beat, a strong pulse beneath her.
“How do you know? What makes you so sure?” He speaks to her hair, his lips brushing softly against the loose strands that fall freely into her face.
She looks up, sharply examining the man she believed knew her better than anyone else. “Because I love you.” The words spill from her lips before she even thinks of their implication, but she can’t, won’t, take them back, not now.
He tilts her face back up to his, and her heart beats madly in her chest as he examines every inch of her soul. The pause is excruciating; a wait so painfully long she begs for anything other than this, what she has right now. “Please…”
His lips are feather-light on her own, and if she had not dreamed this a thousand and one times, she never would have thrown her arms around his neck - until feather-light is drugged, heavy and wanting.
The moment is too short to push her heart into his mouth, but just long enough to know she wasn’t the only one waking up in a cold sweat from these dreams. But he pulls back in a move too quick to follow, and his deep pants punctuate the excuse he murmurs in her ear. “I can’t. Not now, not ever. I can’t protect you, and you can’t save me. But run away, save yourself. I promised to keep you safe all those years ago - this is the only way I can.”
He pushes free of her limp arms and strides away; she feels his driver around the corner and she wonders numbly what she did wrong (nothing, his voice in her head says, you’re perfect).
She wants to cry and scream, force her pain unto the world. But his final words echo in her skull, and she knows he is right - she can save herself even if she cannot save him. She meanders to the corner and watches his car turn the corner and speed off into a life she could never be a part of.
She watches the spot where the car turned for minutes that may have trickled into hours before she tugs her coat tighter around her shoulders and walks off into the empty streets of New York, where she is hidden by the streetlights - safely away from a government and world that wants her dead, protected just as he wished and alone like she always feared.
Feedback is love!
Rating - PG-13-ish, general ideas
Pairing - Mohinder/Molly
Challenge - heroes15 11. Promise
Originally Written - June 24, 2007
Spoilers/Warnings - An AU take on 1.20 "Five Years Gone" where Mohinder doesn't betray the president; future!fic
Summary - She should hate the man he has become while she mourns the man he was, but the only thing she can find in her heart is to love him.
Disclaimer - I don't own a thing! It all belongs to Tim Kring&company at NBC.
A/N - This fic has been nearly a month in the making, and I finally think it may be passable, but who knows? Not I.
Nothing about this choice is safe; night darkens the plaza and the safety found in the anonymity of light recedes to nothing. Three years since the successful implementation of the "miracle" drug, and their numbers have dwindled to few - those who hide and those who hunt.
She hides in plain sight; she attends college at NYU, an aspiring journalist; she has a boyfriend (cute, smiling, golden, and young); she loves her life and her friends. No one knows her secret, and those who do could never find her if she only thinks hard enough. Her life is happy and safe, but still she waits in shadows for a dark face; pitied, revered and hated, he damned them all without ever being part of the "all."
She should hate him; hate how he has made it harder than ever to hide, hate how she suppresses her gift due to his curse, hate how her life is all a lie, and all of it is his fault. She should hate the man he has become while she mourns the man he was, but the only thing she can find in her heart is to love him.
He saved her so many years before, protected her as he could before he could no longer, and then he gave her up -- sacrificed his happiness for her safety. So, she waits, feeling his presence in the building behind her, and hopes he is not too late.
Minutes tick by and trickle into hours until near midnight she feels him move; he is leaving. In her mind, she walks the stairs with him, and when he pushes through the front door juggling two bags of research, she stands just off to the side - in plain sight but not.
A lone figure at night is a rare sight, even in a city of ten million people, and she knows she stands out - young and female. And when he turns, the merger light of the street lamp reflecting off his glasses, she cannot hide a smile.
"Miss, you really shouldn't be out here alone," his voice is soft, lilting and exhausted. "Night is a dangerous place for a young woman..." He trails off as she steps forward.
"I know, Mohinder. Maybe you shouldn't have worked so late," her voice questions, teases and scolds, and she struggles to maintain her blasé attitude with the dawning comprehension and fear light his eyes.
"You shouldn't be here," he whispers frantically.
She shrugs, touched by his concern, but unconcerned. She knows the dangers of the night better than he. "I know the risks."
He takes five steps and closes the distance between them, until she can feel his breath, and the silver flecks to his thick black mane sparkle in the dim light, and in a moment, he fills in all the gaps in her fading memories.
"If you know the risks, then why are you here?" He silently, passionately, begs her to leave this place, be safe from him and the world he has created.
Resignation and defeat line the circles under his eyes, and she wonders if she is too late, if she waited too long to save him. "It's our chance," she tells him; she hates that her voice sounds shiny, rosy and oh so young; she should be more mature, more something for him.
"For what, Molly?" His eyes roam her face in a vague, distant way, but he has yet to step away from her tiny frame, and his nearness is the only sign she has that suggests pushing forward may prove fruitful.
“Escape, safety. I can protect us, hide us from them; we can go anywhere and they’ll never find us because whenever they start to look we’ll be gone. We’ll run and be free, just the two of us.” She spits the words out so quickly she wonders if he followed them before he smiles sadly and gently cups her cheek in his hand.
“How long before you tire of that life? How long before you wish you hadn’t tied yourself to the one person they’ll never let go? How long before you ask, ‘Why him?’”
His words are quiet and toxic; she wants to ignore them, but she hears truth behind his dark cynicism, and she wonders if maybe he is right. Tears form behind her eyes, tears for him, her and the future. “I won’t tire of it,” she murmurs, leaning forward so her forehead gently rests against his chest - she feels his heart beat, a strong pulse beneath her.
“How do you know? What makes you so sure?” He speaks to her hair, his lips brushing softly against the loose strands that fall freely into her face.
She looks up, sharply examining the man she believed knew her better than anyone else. “Because I love you.” The words spill from her lips before she even thinks of their implication, but she can’t, won’t, take them back, not now.
He tilts her face back up to his, and her heart beats madly in her chest as he examines every inch of her soul. The pause is excruciating; a wait so painfully long she begs for anything other than this, what she has right now. “Please…”
His lips are feather-light on her own, and if she had not dreamed this a thousand and one times, she never would have thrown her arms around his neck - until feather-light is drugged, heavy and wanting.
The moment is too short to push her heart into his mouth, but just long enough to know she wasn’t the only one waking up in a cold sweat from these dreams. But he pulls back in a move too quick to follow, and his deep pants punctuate the excuse he murmurs in her ear. “I can’t. Not now, not ever. I can’t protect you, and you can’t save me. But run away, save yourself. I promised to keep you safe all those years ago - this is the only way I can.”
He pushes free of her limp arms and strides away; she feels his driver around the corner and she wonders numbly what she did wrong (nothing, his voice in her head says, you’re perfect).
She wants to cry and scream, force her pain unto the world. But his final words echo in her skull, and she knows he is right - she can save herself even if she cannot save him. She meanders to the corner and watches his car turn the corner and speed off into a life she could never be a part of.
She watches the spot where the car turned for minutes that may have trickled into hours before she tugs her coat tighter around her shoulders and walks off into the empty streets of New York, where she is hidden by the streetlights - safely away from a government and world that wants her dead, protected just as he wished and alone like she always feared.
Feedback is love!