Fic: Checkered Past 1/1
Here it is, complete with worts and all, the final part.
Title: Checkered Past Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Alien Nation. Characters: Peter, Mohinder, Cathy, Matt, George, Buck, Nathan, Angela Maury. Words: 5378 Prompt: Improbably Crossover Fandom: Heroes/Alien Nation Pairing: Peter/Mohinder Rating: Adult Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Mind Fuck. Summary: Peter moves on with his life. Author's Note: Post Speckled Eggs - Four Months Later. ______________________________________
An alarm buzzed in the cell.
The light came back on.
He opened his eyes.
Through the fog and haze he could make out the door. It was opening and three figures were waiting on the other side. Despite this, the only sound he could make out was his own breathing.
One of them entered the cell. Stepping forward, his large spots became visible in the blue light.
Trapped by his own body's inability to move, his only reaction was to watch.
As he stood there, the new man began to unbutton his shirt. Once he was done, he slid it off his shoulders. Next, he untied the string on his pants. They fell to puddle at his feet.
Staring at the new man's body, he felt something was different about him. It was difficult for him to focus, trying to reason what that might be. Frowning, he found his attention drawn to the stranger once more.
Kneeling down, the new man crawled forward until he was over him. Lowering himself, he grabbed his legs to spread them.
His own breath speeding up in his ears, he glanced over with wide eyes at the doorway. The two figures continued to stand there, watching. His hearts picked up their pace as the man between his legs pressed against him
Jerking awake, he started to cough, gasping for needed breath. Peter curled over the side of his bed, pounding at the bottom of his rib cage. Eventually, he coughed up the blockage, spitting it in upon the floor. Groaning, he wiped his lips with the side of his hand.
As he laid their panting, Peter tried to gain his bearings. From what he could see, there was a blue, hand woven rug on the floor beneath his bed. An old scratched up night stand by his bed needed to be refinished. Peter knew that if he looked on top of it, he would find the lamp he had purchased with his first paycheck.
Sure enough, it was there when he glanced up.
Relief filled him, but he couldn't really be sure why. A hand on his hip lay warm and comforting. Peter moaned in relief as it slid over his stomach, rubbing small circles in to the aching muscles.
"Is the pod bothering you?" Pressing chapped lips to the spots along Peter's neck, he moaned deeply at the back of his throat.
This sent a shiver down Peter's spine. Curling away from him, Peter snickered. "Cut it out."
Instead of letting that deter him, he returned to Peter's neck. Increasing the frequency of kisses, he began to hum. "So glad you," he hummed at a higher pitch, making Peter gasp, "came back to me."
"I couldn't stay away." Eyes rolling up to his head, Peter allowed the man to pull him back to the center of their bed. Rolling on to his back, he stared through heavy lidded eyes. "Mohinder."
"Shh, Peter." Pressing their lips together, Mohinder groaned in to his mouth. When pulled back, licking his lips, he smirked. "No more talking."
Peter nodded. Talking was so over rated anyways.
Standing in front of the mirror, Peter continued to stare down at his pants. No matter how many times he tried, the continued to defy him. Grasping the two sides of the zipper, he tried to squeeze them together. No amount of sucking it in would work. Not even laying on his back and letting his body relax helped.
He was just going to have to face facts. He was getting bigger. It was a biological fact of being pregnant, especially alien pregnancy. Nothing unusual, he had known it was coming. So why were his eyes misting up?
Looking away, he rubbed at his corners of his eyes. That was how he saw Mohinder watching him from the bathroom doorway.
The other man was grinning like a lunatic.
Peter wanted to grab his head and shove it through the fucking wall! This was nothing to be pleased about! Glaring at him, Peter turned away. He strutted his fat ass over to the fucking bureau and pulled out the damned stretching maternity pants. They had been a gift from Heidi, arriving a day after he had broke the news to them.
That had been a dinner from hell.
He never thought Nathan would have stopped laughing. The bastard probably still chuckled at random moments over it.
So he was pregnant with a quarter alien baby! There was nothing funny about it. If he ever found the female New Comer he had encountered, he would cut her spots off one at a time. It was already bad enough Mohinder couldn't stop smiling at him. Or worse yet, driving him nuts with his spot fetish.
How many times could a man get instantly hard just by seeing spots?
Catching Mohinder moving in to his peripheral view, Peter scowled. Apparently there was no end to it. Shoving his tight jeans off, Peter kicked them with a vicious snarl to the corner of their bedroom.
Jerkily, he pulled the pants up one leg at a time. When the soft material came up over his stomach, he let it snap back against his no longer flat abs. He was turning to look at the mirror so he could adjust them when he ran smack dab in to Mohinder.
Moving quickly, Mohinder slid his hand up to cup Peter's neck and the back of his head. His other hand slid to the small of Peter's back. He brought them flush against each other. "You are the most beautiful person in the world, Peter. I wish I could take each moment to show you how much it's true, but unfortunately we have to work. So, take this as a promise until we meet again."
"Are you trying to gag me with that..." He was cut off by Mohinder's tongue in his mouth. Peter barely tried to fight, until he just gave up. There was no stopping the horny Geneticist until he was ready to let go. Surrendering to it fully, he wrapped his arms around Mohinder. They were probably going to be late, again.
Snapping off the surgical glove, Peter pushed open the door. Behind him, the patient was still crying, the evidence of how long she had been doing it was staining his shirt. So she was pregnant, it wasn't like the world was ending. If she didn't believe in abortion, that was her problem. Her situation wasn't unique in the world.
Hell, it wasn't even unique on her block. There were at least ten girls in her exact position in the same apartment building. He made a mental note to ask Debra about possible water contamination when he visited the city inspector's office next week. The girl had said she was on the pill, if something was nullifying the pill's effect, they had to find out.
For her sake, he had to pretended he cared, though. So, he filled out the paper work for the Doctor to sign. If she qualified, the city would help her take care of her squealing little bastard until it came. Most likely, it would then end up back here at the clinic, just like seven of his last ten pregnant patients' babies had.
He was so sick of these girls getting pregnant. Sure, it was an accident, that's why you did something about it to fix the problem.
The pod in his gut shifted, causing Peter to stumble. Hissing, he grabbed the wall for support. Growling, he reached down to massage the area around his navel. Baby Suresh was going to kill him before the little bastard even showed its face.
There were so many unwanted babies in the world. If girls would stop screwing every cute guy that winked at them, and if every stupid fucking punk in the whole god damned world would just use a condom, it wouldn't be a problem! But no, they had to have it quick and easy, because it felt different with a condom on!
Spots appeared before Peter's vision. Gritting his teeth, he started to massage harder. The pod wasn't settling down before. If it kept up, he would have to go home early, yet again.
That would probably cause Mohinder to come home early just to check on him. Why couldn't there be more people like him out there? His fiance was a man of great strength of character. He knew what had to be done and did it.
Peter's vision suddenly went out of focus. He could hear the patient behind him. She was asking him something, but all he could hear was a rushing in his ears. Before he knew it, the floor was hitting him, hard
The phone in her office was ringing as she opened the door. Pulling the key out from the lock, Cathy used the toe of her shoe to kick it open. How long it had been threatening to come off the hook, she wasn't sure. Dropping her purse and the packages in her arms in one of her chairs, she rushed to grab the phone. Only at the last minute did she remember she had on those new Tencton hoops Matt had bought her.
Banging the receiver against one, she winced. The reverb from the phone did nothing for her hearing either. She careful held it at a distance while she reached up to remove her earring. "Dr. Frankel."
"Hey, Cathy! How's my girl?"
Grin splitting her face, Cathy forgot all about the pain. "Matt! I thought you were on a stakeout."
"I was. Carmichael spotted us, Jones decided to pull us early." Matt didn't sound a bit upset about that. "I was thinking we could go out, just the two of us, some dinner, a little sour milk. What do you think?"
"I've only just got back from my lunch break." She turned to face her package. Her fingers reached to trail along a lavender bag. "I did pick something up for us, though."
"Oh, now what exactly would that be?" His voice dropped a full octave, grumbling over the phone.
"Nothing like that, Matt." Chuckling, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Some times, I think humming is all you ever have on your mind."
"You're the one who brought it up. Teasing me like that, it's not fair." This was followed by a high pitched bark of laughter. "Don't look at me like that, George. Cathy knows I'm only kidding, don't ya, babe?"
"I wonder, Matt." George's voice came out loud and clear over the line. "Hello, Cathy. Susan and I would like to thank you and Matt for watching Vessna for us last weekend. It really meant a lot to us that you allowed us to celebrate our Earth anniversary."
"Not a problem." Cathy could hear Matt grinding his teeth in the background. He must have handed the phone over. "Has Matt asked him yet?"
"Not yet, but I know what his answer will be." The speaker echoed a sound of being thumped.
"All right, enough of this already!" Matt wasn't able to hide his disgusted snort. "It's already bad enough I've gotta ask the little guy to, you know, Cath, don't put any more pressure on me."
"Honestly, Matt, you've known about this for eleven years. We've discussed it many times." This was the part she always hated. No matter how often they did, he would never get any closer to becoming comfortable with New Comer biological responses. "Besides, this is Albert. He is our friend and will be insulted if you draw this out any longer!"
"Jeeze, all right." Plaintive as ever, Matt's voice trailed off over the receiver. "Are we still sure about Buck, you know, because, I'm having second thoughts. I'm almost totally cool with George."
George cut in on this. "I have informed you many times, Matt, but I have reached my Muklatte stage. I am unable to..."
"Yeah, yeah." Groaning, Matt switched ears with the phone. "All right, I'll ask Albert today. You can inform Buck, that's the deal, that's the plan. Meet me at home in that backless number. Love you, bye!" Having sped through the last parts, Matt ended the call.
Staring at her phone in exasperation, Cathy hung it up. He would never grow up, that was just something she was going to have to face. Even at the age of fourty-seven, he still acted like a child.
Glancing at the lavender bag, she smirked. It would be the perfect way to coax him in to shutting up during her programs. Not only because it vibrated as it massaged, but because it could only be used in the tub.
A knock at her door broke her from her scheming. Smiling, Cathy glanced over her shoulder. "Come in."
Appearing through the door, her nose in a manual, Nurse Vedrene held up a pink slip. "You got an emergency call while you were out. Some hot shot politician in New York. Says he needs your response immediately."
Sighing, Cathy tried to remember if any New Comers had gone that far. Last she had heard, the city was even worse for their kind than San Francisco. The salty air irritated the skin and eyes so badly, goggles and lotions were needed.
Walking over to Vedrene, she accepted the note.
The moment the note was out of her fingers, Vedrene disappeared from the doorway.
Reading over the note, she found it was indeed involving a New Comer, a pregnancy in fact. Glancing at the name, she frowned. Petrelli, it had a ring of familiarity to it. Picking up her phone, she dialed the number.
It was picked up before it even finished ringing the first time. "Dr. Frankel?"
"Yes, this is she. Congressman Petrelli?" Her breath caught in her throat as he confirmed it with an affirmative noise. "What can I do for you?"
"Not over the phone. I'm in Buffalo, can you fly out to meet me?"
"Is this note accurate?" Her hearts nearly skipped a beat in anticipation. She would have to tell Matt on the fly if it were true.
"Yes. When can you come?"
"Just as soon as I book a flight." Which meant about three hours, if there was a flight to New York in that time.
"My private jet is on its way to LAX. It will pick you up in two hours." He hung up before she could reply.
Some times, Cathy wondered about the people of this world. They professed to want things like common curtesy, and they bitched like crows when she didn't give it. But let her call them on it one time, and the world would end.
Cathy realized she was still standing there holding the phone like a fool. Clicking the hang up button, she dialed Matt back. He wasn't going to be pleased. It didn't occur to her ask why a Congressman from New York knew to call her.
"I understand why you are coming along." Holding her own bag, Cathy jerked it from Matt's grip. "But why are you bringing Buck?"
"Hunh?" Having been watching her bag, Matt scowled. The question caught him off guard and he had to glance over to her. "Oh, George sent him. Apparently if he couldn't come, he wanted someone he could trust. I dunno why I wasn't enough."
Dropping her bag on the conveyor, Cathy moved ahead of Matt. She was still pissed he had delayed her take off until after Buck could arrive. Whatever the emergency was, it was not going to get any better without her assistance.
Grumbling to himself, Matt smiled at the TSA girl just to be an ass.
Looking unimpressed, the TSA woman passed him through.
Landing, Cathy felt her stomach begin to settle. The six seltzers she had drank in the last hour had really helped things, but being back on the ground was the only cure. She kept her eyes closed even as she felt the plane begin taxiing towards the hangar.
Sitting comfortably in his seat, Matt continued to sip on the free whiskey. It was watered down with some expensive sounding soda, but it was still pretty good.
Blinking, Peter could hear people talking. There was something familiar about the voices, but his head hurt too much for him to recognize them. His back was killing him, the ache spread out from his hips all the way to his ribs. It felt like his entire abdomen was on fire.
"Shh, it's okay." A cool hand was pressed against his forehead. Brushing the hair off Peter's face, the gentle scrape of long finger nails chased over his scalp.
He wanted to beg for them to stop the pain. Wanted to cry out, but it hurt too much and all he could do was whimper.
"I know it hurts." The same voice. Those fingers were back in his hair. A gentle hand stroked over his inflamed abdomen. "It won't be long now."
Sobbing, he turned further in to the touch. He spasm in his abdomen made him actually scream this time. Gritting his teeth, he could feel something wet slide down his stomach.
"It's coming!" The voice again.
Feet came rushing towards them. "But it's not time!"
"There is no time. Prep the male!" After she spoke, she was back at Peter's side. Massaging at his abdomen, she began to whisper to him. "It's okay, Peter, you're doing just fine. Everything will be over soon. You will be just fine very soon."
He wanted to believe her. The voice knew everything, it always had. Clenching his eyes shut, Peter turned in to her hand when it came back to stroke his face.
"Ma'am, we'll be landing soon."
A touch on her shoulder jostled Cathy awake. Blinking in surprise, she wiped the drool from her cheek. She frowned at it, but had her attention brought back to the stewardess with another touch. "What?"
"Landing. We'll be arriving back at LAX in ten minutes. You'll need to ready yourself and use the restroom if needed." Smiling, she moved over to the other side of the cabin. She reached out and touched Buck's shoulder. "Sir, it's time to wake up. We'll be landing soon."
Coming awake slowly, he blinked drowsily about him. For several seconds he didn't seem to realize he was even awake. When he could focus, he frowned at everything.
Smiling, Cathy recognized the signs. Standing up, she stretched her arms over her head. A quick glance to Matt found him drowsing still. The stewardess hadn't taken a liking to him on the ride out. She would most likely let him sleep until he couldn't get up to use the restroom.
Crossing the cabin, she sat down in the chair next to Buck. She reached up to place a hand against his temple. This drew his attention. "How are you feeling?"
"Pregnant." Reaching out, he ran his fingers along the stretched flap of skin just under his shirt. It was still extremely sore. He could feel the baby inside shift under his touch. Groaning, he looked over at Cathy. "I don't think I can do this."
"I've seen you with Vessna. You are going to make a great father." She draped an arm over his shoulders, hugging him to her. Cathy knew she had to remain positive about this, not letting him have one moment of doubt. After losing his mother, the baby was going to have enough trouble. "Your parents, your sisters, even Matt and I will be here to help you along. You've got a big family for this little pod, everything will turn out fine. I promise."
That brought the first smile to Buck's face in what felt like ages. "When you say it like that, it sounds like it might actually come true." Leaning towards her, he pressed his temple against hers. "Listen, about..."
"Don't worry about it." Patting his shoulder, she pasted on a smile. "Matt and I can wait."
"No, I want to do it." Buck pulled back a little from her embrace. He could tell how much this meant to her just by the look in her eyes. "The sooner the better."
"Thank you." She couldn't keep the cracking from her voice. Wrapping him up in a bone crushing hug, she made sure not to harm the pod.
They were broken apart a few moments later by the arrival of the stewardess. Almost home, the world was starting to look better with every passing minute.
Gasping, he tried to surge out of bed. The pain in his body prevented him from getting even his shoulders up. Peter hurt so badly, he could barely even remember his own name. Shuddering, he started to cough.
"Oh thank god!" Angela was suddenly there, taking up the full range of his limited vision. In the limited light, he could see that her eyes were swollen, the mascara around them long since smudged beyond saving.
Peter could feel her hands tracing along his face, the familiar fingers caressing his unshaved cheeks. Tears obscured her features, and he tried to curl against her. Even this small movement sent ripples of pain through him. "Hurts."
"Stay with me, Peter. I need you to focus upon my voice." Sliding one hand down, she clutched his hand in her own. The hand remaining along his cheek forced him to look at her face. "Pay close attention. Can you do that for me, Peter?"
Nodding, Peter pushed through the pain to acknowledge her command.
"Good, now, I need you to focus. Think of Claire, picture her in your mind." Seeing that his gaze was slipping, she slapped his cheek. That had the desired effect of getting him to see her again. "Don't sleep, Peter, you may never wake up again. Think of Claire. You saved her, you saved them all, think of Claire!"
Despite her insistent word, Peter found his eyes closing again.
"No! Damn you, no!" She slapped him again. Her voice cracking, she squeezed his chin in her hand. "Peter, focus upon Claire. Don't you go to sleep, Peter. Think of Claire. Think of Claire!"
His eyes closed.
"Think of Claire! Damn it, no! No, Peter! Think of Claire." Unable to keep him there, she could feel his chest still. Her shaking fingers slid down to check his pulse. Staring at her youngest son, she found no movement. "Peter, please."
"Pete." Stopping at the side of the bed, Nathan placed his hand upon his brother's cheek. "Can you hear me? You have to think of Claire, Peter."
His body jerking, Peter's hold on his mother's hand suddenly tightened. Taking a gasping breath, he arched up off the bed. Within moments, the pain went away and he was left shaky, but alive. Wild eyed and panting, he looked about until he found Nathan. "Nathan!"
"I'm here, Pete." The hand on Peter's cheek slid around to support his back. Pulling his brother up to him, Nathan pushed aside their mother. "We're here, Peter."
"Where... What happened?" Closing his eyes, Peter buried his face in Nathan's neck. The comforting smell of his old cologne filled his senses. "I can't remember, it's all so confusing."
"You won." Nathan ignored the look he knew would be on Angela's face. She could no longer counted, this was about his brother now. "You saved the city, you saved Claire, you've saved us all."
"I did?" Unable to believe it, Peter coughed in embarrassment. This was too much to hope for. "What about Sylar? Did I get to him before he..."
"He's dead, that's all that matters." When he felt Peter stiffen in his arms, Nathan squeezed him tighter against him. "Don't, it wasn't your fault. It's ours for not listening. We should have evacuated the city, but lucky for everyone you didn't give up."
That struck something in Peter's memory. He could recall this much. "You said I was crazy."
"That was my doing." Angela stood there unflinching when Peter turned accusing eyes upon her. It didn't matter, he was alive, and everything else could wait. "I won't deny it was a mistake, but it was a call that I thought was for your own protection."
"I was going to kill millions of people. How would that have protected me?" Suddenly angry, Peter tried to get out of Nathan's hold, but his brother was stronger than he gave him credit for. "What gave you the right to decide their fates?"
"I was trying to protect my family. In that scheme, a few million lives was small price to pay." She knew Peter would never forgive her. So what. It was the truth. If he lived long enough, he might one day understand. "If they had believed you, what do you think they would have done? Certainly, people would have tried to escape, but in nothing short of a panicked crunch. And what of us? There would be no place safe on the planet for your family.
"Your brother, Heidi, your nephews, me, all of us, they would have hunted us down. You and Claire could survive, but they would have locked you in a lab." She shook her head, lips tightening. "No, it was better to ruin you in the media than let you destroy all of us."
"I think it's best that you leave us for a while, Ma." Increasing his hold on Peter, Nathan tugged his face back against his neck.
"All right, Nathan. I will see you both when you are feeling better." Nodding, she held her head high. Adjusting her necklace, she turned and walked out of the room.
After the door closed behind her, Peter closed his eyes and let go. It was finally over, the world was safe.
Coming down in to the living room, Angela let her fingers slide along the banister. She spotted him waiting for her on the antique couch that her late husband had been damn near obsessed with. If he hadn't been sleeping on it, he was sitting there doing business. Nathan's fond remembrance was the only reason she still had it.
Standing up, he turned around to face Angela. His features were ruddy and shimmering with sweat. He used a rag to mop off the top of his head. "What kind of monster did you birth, Angel?"
"That is none of your concern. All that matters is that you finished the job." Crossing to the roll top desk, she pulled a key from around her neck. She fitted it in to the lock then turned it. The desk came open with a gentle tug. A brown paper sack sat in the center. Picking it up, she turned to face him.
"It had all better be there." Folding up his rag, he shoved it down in the back of his pants. "I've worked too hard on this, four months and aliens, you better not stiff me. I won't be able to do anything for at least a month, but the moment I can, you'll pay if you even try."
"It is." Holding out the bag, she made sure that he wouldn't be able to touch her when he accepted it.
"You don't mind if I count it, do you?" He didn't wait for her to say. Opening the bag, he flipped through the contents. "Excellent, this should hold me over quite nicely."
"Nice doing business with you." Back straight, she walked around him, giving him a wide berth. Heading for the door, she grabbed the handle upon reaching it. She held it open for him. "Now get out."
"Not a problem. Anything to get away from that freak." Maury stopped in the doorway, staring her straight in the eye. "If you were smart, Angel, you'd put it down while it's still wounded."
"Good bye, Maury." She waited until he walked out, then slammed the door shut behind him. Once he had stepped out of viewing range of the door, she turned her back against it and sighed.
Staring out the window of his apartment, Peter watched the streets flood below. It had been raining in the city for the past week, non stop. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that someone was making it happen. But, he and everyone who had been paying attention to the weather had known it was coming.
They flooding would continue for at least another three days before the storm let up. Then, it would take almost a month to clean up the damage. At least the most of the city was staying dry. It was hard to get wet when you lived high above the streets.
Not seeing what he wanted among the passing cars, he let the curtain fall. The new shirt he was wearing was about the most extravagant thing he would ever own. It had been a gift from Heidi. She had sent it the following morning after he had come out to his family as a peace offering.
He didn't know what she felt guilty about. It was Nathan who hadn't been able to stop scowling. Always worried about his public image, he had simply asked Peter not to appear in any of 'those' magazines. At least not without making his family look good in the process.
Peter was half tempted to strip down to his skivvies and pose for Out or Advocate. Or May be Skin'N. He had the body, he could pull off the slutty rent boy look.
Speaking of rent boys, he picked up a push pin from the box. He turned to the city map on the board. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind. When he felt the pin sink home, he opened them again.
The pin was in almost the exact same hole as it was every time. Smiling, Peter turned towards the door. A moment later, there came a sound from the locks. Crossing the room, Peter held up a mug of tea. Steam started to waft off it after a second.
Pushing open the door, his black hair caked against his scalp, Mohinder dropped his umbrella in the stand. "To think, I moved away from Madras thinking I would escape the monsoon." Looking up at Peter, he smiled. "Silly me."
"Welcome home, Mohinder!" Wrapping his arm around his lover, Peter handed him the tea and pressed a kiss to his lips. It quickly developed in to something more, drawing a moan from both of them. When he eventually pulled back, Peter grinned.
"Well, that certainly is a welcome home I could get used to." Licking his lips, Mohinder held the mug under his nose. He stood there breathing in the scent of the tea for several seconds, making obscene sounds. When he looked to Peter, he had a smitten expression on his face. "Tell me I've not died, you're too good."
"You're right, I am too good." Letting his hand slide down to cup, Mohinder's backside, Peter grinned. "But, then you're not bad yourself." Snorting, Peter slid out of Mohinder's embrace. He turned and headed for the bedroom, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Come let me get you out of those clothes."
Sucking down the tea, Mohinder quickly followed.
Laying awake, Peter could feel Mohinder softly snoring against his back. The spots along his spine were still sore from the other man's insatiable need to touch them. It was the most content he could ever recall feeling. Still, even there, though, he felt a longing.
Peter couldn't be sure what it was. His body longed for something, some thing that he could only remember in the depths of forgotten dreams. There were times when he knew for certain what it was. Then there where times like now, when all he knew was what it wasn't.
Sighing in his sleep, Mohinder slid his hand from Peter's chest down to lay flat against his abdomen. It was almost as if he knew.
Peter hadn't told him yet. He wasn't certain how to explain it to himself. He just knew, like he had been through it before. It was impossible, but Peter knew.
Watching the lights in the apartment building across the alley wink out, he tried to forget the longing feeling in his gut.