Fic: Penance (Maya, Mohinder, gen)
Title: Penance
Rating: PG
Words: 1600
Characters: Maya, Mohinder, an unnamed OC
Warnings: Character death (not graphic). Angst.
Spoilers: Vaguely, for all of season 2
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
A/N: This is written for the
mission_insane challenge, table/prompt: Cliché / Sacrifice. I'm not sure where this came from, because I still don't like Maya, but it appeared almost fully formed in my mind. I'll be posting this to the challenge comm and some other comms later tonight, so I apologize if it pops up in your flist again.
Summary: Maya isn't expecting the chance she's offered to pay the debt she thinks she owes her brother.
Maya knows that Mohinder pities her, but he also trusts her, even though he shouldn’t. That makes him the closest thing to a friend she has here, so she can live with it.
It’s better to be in here, anyway. The police are looking for her. Mohinder showed her the notice from Interpol. And the government would deport her right away if the immigration authorities found her. And there are the tears. She can control them most of the time. But one warm, pretty day when Mohinder talked them into letting her go for a walk, she lost hold of them and six people died, including the somber Company man who was watching over her.
She doesn’t ask to go for a walk in the summer sun again, after that.
She does want to leave one day, though. And that’s why she feels guilty for making Mohinder trust her. He teaches her how to use his computer and has her help with his record-keeping, sometimes. She knows he only does it to give her something to do a few hours a week, but she always looks forward to it. Because when he leaves the room, she goes through his files and his emails. She looks for notes about one particular person who Mohinder and his friends are trying desperately to hunt down, who she would hunt down herself if she knew how.
She feels bad for spying in Mohinder’s files, but she owes a blood debt to Alejandro, and she has to find a way to pay it somehow. This is the only way she can think of to do it. Mohinder told her about his father, soon after she came here. He told her that he understands how she feels, but that if she stays in here, she’ll be safer. She hopes that if he ever finds out what she wants to do, he’ll still understand.
One day Mohinder comes to her room much earlier than usual. His face is a thundercloud, and she shrinks a little inside, wondering if he’s learned about her spying.
Mohinder sits in the other chair and takes a deep breath. “Mr. Bishop wants you to speak with someone,” he says, and she relaxes.
“Another doctor? More tests?”
“No, another special person, who was brought in last night.” Mohinder sets his jaw. “Bob won’t tell me how exactly he was detained, but the police are looking for him as well. They want to question him about the suspicious death of his wife, which happened a few weeks after their daughter was killed in an accident. The problem is, he’s from Mexico, and he doesn’t speak any English, and he’s understandably terrified. He’s refused to speak to any of their translators.” He sighs again. “I don’t like asking this, but -”
Maya stands up and slides into her slippers. “I will help you.”
* * * * * * *
It’s not surprising that the man is terrified - that Elle girl is standing outside his room - but when Maya goes in, he turns even paler for a moment before the color comes flooding back into his face.
“What’s the matter?” she asks in Spanish.
“For a moment, I thought you were my daughter,” he says.
“But they said your daughter was dead?”
He looks frightened again. “Yes. Yes, of course. She is.” He glances over towards the large window that everyone knows is a one-way mirror. “What do you want with me?”
“They want to help you.”
She thinks he laughs, though it sounds more like a sob. He runs his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair.
“They are helping me. I...” She pauses because she’s not sure if he’ll believe her. “I accidentally killed people, with my mind. I am learning to control it, but I can’t do it all the time. They keep me safe here, away from other people, and from people who might want to hurt me. They say that you are special, like me, and some people think you’ve done evil things. Maybe they can help you, too.” She glances up at the window, wondering what to say next. “What... what did you do?”
He sobs again. “I accidentally brought people back to life, with my mind.”
* * * * * * *
He tries to explain how he does it, but he isn’t any better at explaining than she is at explaining how it feels to have the darkness well up inside her. It’s like having your heart broken: you either know how it feels, or you don’t.
“I am just a doorman,” he finally says. “I know how to open the door. But I cannot open it on my own, thank God. It keeps me from giving in to temptation. There are so many people I miss who’ve gone on before me...”
“But then how do you do it?”
He hesistates, then bows his head. Finally, he says, “Energy. I need the energy of another soul. That is what it takes to open the door.”
Maya’s eyes widen. “And that person...dies?”
The man’s eyes fill with tears. “I think so. I hope so. I... I don’t know. Maybe all the energy that is released when the doorway opens, maybe it burns them up and destroys them entirely. I don’t know!” He buries his head in his hands.
Maya slowly realizes something. “You said, you thought I was your daughter. You... Did you...”
“My wife, she wanted it. She knew I could do it - I told her when I married her, I will keep no secrets from you, I will tell you everything. When Elisa died, she said she could not live without her baby. She told me she didn’t want to live without her. She begged me, called me names, asked me how I could live with myself knowing that I could give our only daughter back the life that was ripped away from her. So finally...I did it.”
“And that is how your wife died?”
He nodded.
There’s more but it flows over her. She remembers that his daughter is 16, that she has all his money, that she knows how to get to his sister’s apartment in Chicago which was where they were headed when the Company found him. She remembers that he was trying to hide her, because he didn’t know what the authorities or the Church would say if they found out what he could do. She remembers that when his daughter came back, she was herself, as if her skull had never been smashed through a windshield and onto the road. That her mother was able to say goodbye before the burning-up.
The rest of her mind is somewhere else.
When they finally leave, she stops partway down the corridor. “My ring,” she says. “It’s gone. I think maybe I dropped it back there, in his room.”
This time when Mohinder punches in the code for the door to the man’s cell, she leans around his arm and watches him do it. Mohinder doesn’t suspect anything, because he trusts her - she feels bad, she knows he doesn’t trust many people, but she hopes he’ll understand.
It’s three days before Mohinder comes to get her again. She’s almost ill from waiting and she’s sung that number in her head so many times that she hardly has room for any other thoughts. Mohinder apologizes for leaving her alone so long, and tells her he’d had to take an unexpected trip.
She still worries that maybe he suspected something, but he takes her to the office and shows her what he wants done, just like always, and then he leaves her to go back to his test tubes.
As soon as his footsteps die away, she stands up and hurries out the door, in the other direction, walking confidently so that people won’t suspect anything.
She freezes outside the door, though. What if he’s been moved? What if they’ve let him go? She swallows and pushes buttons on the keypad.
The man is napping and he blinks at her as he wakes up, startled. “What do you want, little one?” he asks.
She shuts the door and huddles in a chair. “I want to tell you my story.”
* * * * * * *
The man draws an oval on the wall, taller than he is tall, by dipping his finger in water. He puts his left hand against the wall inside it and looks back at her. His eyes are sad. Maya nods, though, and he reluctantly puts his right hand on her shoulder and closes his eyes.
The oval on the wall dims and becomes jet-black. “Call him,” the man says, and she does.
She sees him, dimly at first, but then he becomes clearer, like a black fog is being blown away from him. Finally all that’s left between them is a violet sheen, like the plastic wrapped around the Easter basket their uncle brought them from the store one year.
“Maya? Maya, what is this?” he asks, his eyes wide and frightened.
“Alejandro,” she says. Tears are running down her face, but it’s all right, because they’re real ones. “Don’t be angry. I have to do this. This is my penance. For what I let happen to you.”
He reaches out a hand towards her but he’s stopped by the violet shimmering. His hand pushes it out a little bit and makes it bend. She doesn’t hesitate. She reaches out for him and presses her own hand against the barrier, trying to touch him.
There’s a sound like night, and her body collapses to the floor.
Rating: PG
Words: 1600
Characters: Maya, Mohinder, an unnamed OC
Warnings: Character death (not graphic). Angst.
Spoilers: Vaguely, for all of season 2
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
A/N: This is written for the
mission_insane challenge, table/prompt: Cliché / Sacrifice. I'm not sure where this came from, because I still don't like Maya, but it appeared almost fully formed in my mind. I'll be posting this to the challenge comm and some other comms later tonight, so I apologize if it pops up in your flist again.
Summary: Maya isn't expecting the chance she's offered to pay the debt she thinks she owes her brother.
Maya knows that Mohinder pities her, but he also trusts her, even though he shouldn’t. That makes him the closest thing to a friend she has here, so she can live with it.
It’s better to be in here, anyway. The police are looking for her. Mohinder showed her the notice from Interpol. And the government would deport her right away if the immigration authorities found her. And there are the tears. She can control them most of the time. But one warm, pretty day when Mohinder talked them into letting her go for a walk, she lost hold of them and six people died, including the somber Company man who was watching over her.
She doesn’t ask to go for a walk in the summer sun again, after that.
She does want to leave one day, though. And that’s why she feels guilty for making Mohinder trust her. He teaches her how to use his computer and has her help with his record-keeping, sometimes. She knows he only does it to give her something to do a few hours a week, but she always looks forward to it. Because when he leaves the room, she goes through his files and his emails. She looks for notes about one particular person who Mohinder and his friends are trying desperately to hunt down, who she would hunt down herself if she knew how.
She feels bad for spying in Mohinder’s files, but she owes a blood debt to Alejandro, and she has to find a way to pay it somehow. This is the only way she can think of to do it. Mohinder told her about his father, soon after she came here. He told her that he understands how she feels, but that if she stays in here, she’ll be safer. She hopes that if he ever finds out what she wants to do, he’ll still understand.
One day Mohinder comes to her room much earlier than usual. His face is a thundercloud, and she shrinks a little inside, wondering if he’s learned about her spying.
Mohinder sits in the other chair and takes a deep breath. “Mr. Bishop wants you to speak with someone,” he says, and she relaxes.
“Another doctor? More tests?”
“No, another special person, who was brought in last night.” Mohinder sets his jaw. “Bob won’t tell me how exactly he was detained, but the police are looking for him as well. They want to question him about the suspicious death of his wife, which happened a few weeks after their daughter was killed in an accident. The problem is, he’s from Mexico, and he doesn’t speak any English, and he’s understandably terrified. He’s refused to speak to any of their translators.” He sighs again. “I don’t like asking this, but -”
Maya stands up and slides into her slippers. “I will help you.”
* * * * * * *
It’s not surprising that the man is terrified - that Elle girl is standing outside his room - but when Maya goes in, he turns even paler for a moment before the color comes flooding back into his face.
“What’s the matter?” she asks in Spanish.
“For a moment, I thought you were my daughter,” he says.
“But they said your daughter was dead?”
He looks frightened again. “Yes. Yes, of course. She is.” He glances over towards the large window that everyone knows is a one-way mirror. “What do you want with me?”
“They want to help you.”
She thinks he laughs, though it sounds more like a sob. He runs his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair.
“They are helping me. I...” She pauses because she’s not sure if he’ll believe her. “I accidentally killed people, with my mind. I am learning to control it, but I can’t do it all the time. They keep me safe here, away from other people, and from people who might want to hurt me. They say that you are special, like me, and some people think you’ve done evil things. Maybe they can help you, too.” She glances up at the window, wondering what to say next. “What... what did you do?”
He sobs again. “I accidentally brought people back to life, with my mind.”
* * * * * * *
He tries to explain how he does it, but he isn’t any better at explaining than she is at explaining how it feels to have the darkness well up inside her. It’s like having your heart broken: you either know how it feels, or you don’t.
“I am just a doorman,” he finally says. “I know how to open the door. But I cannot open it on my own, thank God. It keeps me from giving in to temptation. There are so many people I miss who’ve gone on before me...”
“But then how do you do it?”
He hesistates, then bows his head. Finally, he says, “Energy. I need the energy of another soul. That is what it takes to open the door.”
Maya’s eyes widen. “And that person...dies?”
The man’s eyes fill with tears. “I think so. I hope so. I... I don’t know. Maybe all the energy that is released when the doorway opens, maybe it burns them up and destroys them entirely. I don’t know!” He buries his head in his hands.
Maya slowly realizes something. “You said, you thought I was your daughter. You... Did you...”
“My wife, she wanted it. She knew I could do it - I told her when I married her, I will keep no secrets from you, I will tell you everything. When Elisa died, she said she could not live without her baby. She told me she didn’t want to live without her. She begged me, called me names, asked me how I could live with myself knowing that I could give our only daughter back the life that was ripped away from her. So finally...I did it.”
“And that is how your wife died?”
He nodded.
There’s more but it flows over her. She remembers that his daughter is 16, that she has all his money, that she knows how to get to his sister’s apartment in Chicago which was where they were headed when the Company found him. She remembers that he was trying to hide her, because he didn’t know what the authorities or the Church would say if they found out what he could do. She remembers that when his daughter came back, she was herself, as if her skull had never been smashed through a windshield and onto the road. That her mother was able to say goodbye before the burning-up.
The rest of her mind is somewhere else.
When they finally leave, she stops partway down the corridor. “My ring,” she says. “It’s gone. I think maybe I dropped it back there, in his room.”
This time when Mohinder punches in the code for the door to the man’s cell, she leans around his arm and watches him do it. Mohinder doesn’t suspect anything, because he trusts her - she feels bad, she knows he doesn’t trust many people, but she hopes he’ll understand.
It’s three days before Mohinder comes to get her again. She’s almost ill from waiting and she’s sung that number in her head so many times that she hardly has room for any other thoughts. Mohinder apologizes for leaving her alone so long, and tells her he’d had to take an unexpected trip.
She still worries that maybe he suspected something, but he takes her to the office and shows her what he wants done, just like always, and then he leaves her to go back to his test tubes.
As soon as his footsteps die away, she stands up and hurries out the door, in the other direction, walking confidently so that people won’t suspect anything.
She freezes outside the door, though. What if he’s been moved? What if they’ve let him go? She swallows and pushes buttons on the keypad.
The man is napping and he blinks at her as he wakes up, startled. “What do you want, little one?” he asks.
She shuts the door and huddles in a chair. “I want to tell you my story.”
* * * * * * *
The man draws an oval on the wall, taller than he is tall, by dipping his finger in water. He puts his left hand against the wall inside it and looks back at her. His eyes are sad. Maya nods, though, and he reluctantly puts his right hand on her shoulder and closes his eyes.
The oval on the wall dims and becomes jet-black. “Call him,” the man says, and she does.
She sees him, dimly at first, but then he becomes clearer, like a black fog is being blown away from him. Finally all that’s left between them is a violet sheen, like the plastic wrapped around the Easter basket their uncle brought them from the store one year.
“Maya? Maya, what is this?” he asks, his eyes wide and frightened.
“Alejandro,” she says. Tears are running down her face, but it’s all right, because they’re real ones. “Don’t be angry. I have to do this. This is my penance. For what I let happen to you.”
He reaches out a hand towards her but he’s stopped by the violet shimmering. His hand pushes it out a little bit and makes it bend. She doesn’t hesitate. She reaches out for him and presses her own hand against the barrier, trying to touch him.
There’s a sound like night, and her body collapses to the floor.