![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janie_tangerineSo, this is going to be the first crack!tastic think coming out of that meme of doom. Though this one is mainly thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lasamy's one. Soon to follow on this place: at least one of the Christmas fics I owe, Jack/Tim/Sylar, Mohinder walking on heated Nathan/Sayid and taking his revenge on Matt while Peter & Adam babysit, maybe Nathan hitting on Rosseau and a possible nuclear explosion. Augh.
Title: Five Times James Sawyer Ford Never Met Matt Parkman
Rating: should be PG13, but there's a very blatant NC scene. I really don't know if someone can be scarred for life with two lines of bad sex description. But since I'm not pimping this anywhere until I get some FL responses, I guess I can decide after.
Characters/Pairings: Sawyer, Matt, Matt/Mohinder, Sawyer/Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights, slash of course.
Summary: As the title say, five times in which Sawyer never met Matt.
Spoilers: Heroes, general S2; Lost, general S3, 1x16 Outlaws and 2x13 The Long Con. FNL: no spoilers.
Word count: around 3500
Disclaimer: Lost = no mine, Heroes = no mine, FNL = no mine.
Warnings: goes from angst to total crack to angst to IDK what.
A/N: two of these are outlasamy's meme where she got Matt walking in on Sawyer and Tim having sex and Matt & Sawyer hurt/comfort. Sadly, there's much hurt and no comfort. Anyway, to be detailed: #1 is completely AU since Matt should have been much older for this to happen and angst; #2 is crack; #3 is AU since I made Matt realize he read minds earlier than on show; #4 and #5 are in truth possible with both canons. Concrit is welcome, since I really don't know what the hell I'm doing.
Meeting #1
Matt had been waiting for months for the transfer. He doesn’t really understand why the ever sent him to damn Knoxville, Tennessee in the first place, but his request has been accepted and he’s back in LA in two weeks, maybe less. His time at the Knoxville police station is almost over and he likes Tennessee, but he’s grateful because he prefers California much better.
This seems a quiet night when they get the call. Some sixty-year-old granny says that she heard gunshots in the apartment under hers and Please, can you come and have a look?
Of course they send him and the other guy who arrived just after he did.
Matt gets the coffee he had half drank and goes out of the station with this guy Sam. He’s thankful Sam actually likes to drive because he feels goddamn sleepy even if this is his third coffee and driving looks like the worst thing on earth.
And he’s sure they’re not going to find anything there anyway.
Matt and Sam park in front of the building, it’s a simple nice palace of four floors or something like that and this Mrs Clemons that called lives at the fourth. They knock on the door and she opens and Matt was right, she’s a nice old lady of no more than sixty five years who’s wearing a lace pink nightgown and a pair of black reading glasses.
“Hi, I’m Officer Matt Parkman and he’s Officer Sam Boyle. Can you tell us what happened?”
She nods.
“Well, I was here watchin’ something on television when I heard some loud bangin’ on the door and late me tell you, son, I recognized the voice.”
“Who was?”
“The man who lives down there. Mr. Ford, I tell you. He was screamin’ at his wife, poor Mary she is, and he threatened and asked her to let him in... It lasted a couple minutes, then the door opened and I heard a gun shot. And after a minute or somethin’ like that, I heard another.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t the TV?”, asks Sam not too convinced.
“Officer, the only program where people shoot airin’ right now is Rawhide and let me tell ya, I hate westerns. I was watchin’..”
Matt decides that it’s better to calm things down.
“Hey, hey, you know what? Now me and Officer Boyle are going to check it out and then we’ll tell you if anything happened, alright?”
“That’s the spirit, young man! Your colleague should learn from you.”
Matt actually blushes, takes Sam’s arm and leads him towards the stairs when...
“Officer! I was forgettin’ something. The Fords... they have a kid. He’s about eight or nine. His name’s James. Make sure he’s safe!”
“Got it!”
They go down the stairs and Sam looks at Matt.
“Why the hell are you even paying attention? She dreamed the whole thing, it’s just plain!”
“Maybe, but having a look won’t do no harm. And we’re here anyway, right?”
Sam shrugs and they are on the third floor. Matt searches for the Ford, Michael and Mary label and when he finds it, he knocks.
Complete silence.
He knocks again. Silence again.
“Matt, come on, man, they’re sleeping. Probably.”
Matt isn’t totally convinced but can’t really prove anything.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. We should go and..”
Mommy?
Matt stops dead in his tracks.
“Hey, Sam, you heard that?”
“Heard? What?”
“A voice. It seemed a kid to me.”
“Matt, you’re hallucinating.”
Please. Where are you?
Matt feels something twitch in his gut. This time he’s sure he heard it.
“Sam, there’s something wrong. We have to get in there.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer and when he tries to open the door crashing his shoulder against it, it actually opens without any problems.
It wasn’t locked.
He looks inside and wants to throw up.
“Oh, Jesus. ”
A young blonde woman lies on the floor. She’s wearing a beige light dress; her white, smooth skin is covered in blood coming from a bullet shot point blank right in her chest.
What’s this?
Matt hears that voice again and tries to follow it. He sees some dirt on the floor. It’s prints. Boot prints. He follows them to a next room.
There’s a bed. A man lies on it. Matt thinks he’s blond, too. If his head wasn’t only covered in blood. He’s got to be no more than thirty five. He wears black boots and a coat. He holds a gun in his hand. He’s shot himself in the head and the blood is falling on the ground going down under the bed.
Why is all so red?
Matt’s head is aching. The voice is near.
“Hey, who are you? Where are you?”
Who is this now? Still. She said not to move.
It’s not a coherent thing to say, Matt thinks. Except that whover it is it looks like thoughts and the voice is a kid’s and...
The Fords. They have a kid. He’s about eight or nine.
“James?”, he asks.
How does he know me? And how does he know I’m here?
Oh fuck, Matt thinks, but he’ll try to reason about this later.
“The woman living upstairs, she told me. I... I really don’t know where you are, but well, I... I can hear you for how stupid it must seem and... well, I’m Officer Matt Parkman and if you are anywhere near, you can come out, ok? Where... where are you?”
Why is it so red?
And then Matt understands.
Red. The blood is spreading. It’s...
Under the bed, he thinks, and kneels on the floor. He looks down.
He wasn’t mistaken. The kid is down there, blood surrounding him, blond with two huge blue eyes staring at him and fuck it, how is he supposed to get him out like this?
“James?”
The kid nods.
“Well, I’ve already said before...”
“Officer... Parkman..?”, the kid says.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s me. Sam! Come over here!”
Matt stands up and sees his colleague covering his mouth.
“Don’t you ever think on throwing up now. The boy’s under the bed, Sam.”
“What? And he...”
“Yeah”, Matt whispers, “Shot his wife and then himself. Listen, we’ve got to move that body.”
“You’re crazy? This is...”
“How am I supposed to get the kid out of there without him seeing it?”
Sam shuts up and they move the body on a chair in the corner of the room. Matt then moves the bed and puts himself between the shaking kid and the chair.
“Listen, James, we’ve got to get out of here. Now, can you stand?”
He nods and he stands up. His legs are shaking.
“Good”, Matt says. “Now, turn. Like this.”
When he’d giving him the shoulders, Matt grabs him from behind and while Sam calls the station from the phone, he gets out of the apartment as soon as he can hoping that poor boy doesn’t see his mother and when they get in the car, he goes in the backseat with him.
After a couple of days, they found out that some con man under the name of Sawyer conned that poor kid’s mother and after her husband discovered it...
Matt has to be the one who tells him because the boy didn’t want to talk to anyone else.
“You say a man conned her?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s his name?”
Matt shrugs.
“It’s just a nickname, we don’t know. He goes by Sawyer. Tom Sawyer.”
“Sawyer.”, James says.
It’s the last time Matt sees him because they transfer him to LA the week after.
But he’s never going to forget the first time he heard someone’s thoughts.
Meeting #2
Sawyer really didn’t know what the hell was he thinking when he offered a drink to that barely legal kid in the New York bar where he went that evening. He hadn’t been back in L.A. since the rescue.
Thing was, the kid looked completely lost and at loss for everything, he couldn’t even figure what to order, and so Sawyer kind of came to the rescue. The kid was from Texas and had just a big backpack; he told Sawyer he had always wanted to go see New York and now he was heading to Boston because his best friend was having some kinda therapy there for something Sawyer didn’t understand, since he really didn’t care about the kid’s best friend, but he was short on money and so was searching for a cheap way to spend the night before taking the next greyhound tomorrow. Sawyer nodded and offered him a drink. The kid’s name was Tim and he accepted.
“Hey, not to ruin anythin’, but are you legal? I wouldn’t wanna get in trouble for...”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here first place.”
Sawyer thought the kid had a point. He told him he knew a cheap motel ‘round the corner. Tim said cool, I can check it out. Sawyer didn’t tell him it was cheap because people on the run actually used it to hid for a couple days before running from the city but hell, he was living there for the moment, and nothing usually happened.
Sawyer didn’t really remember how the hell did he end up in bed with the kid giving him head, some pretty, full, luscious lips caressing his hard-on and slowly licking and sucking it, with really some experience, but while he grabbed the sheets on his bed in room 616 because it didn’t have an headstand he decided it wasn’t that bad.
Kate had been the last. And a year had passed from then anyway. It wasn’t like he had forced the kid or something. He started it, he was legal, hell, for once one could have sex without thinking about anything else other than the sex.
--
Matt received a call at the central. There was this robber they had been searching for some time who hid at that crappy motel in Queens and it was just the right time. The informer said room 619.
The owner of the hotel knew what kind of people paid his rooms and he was just neutral. He never asked anyone information and he never stopped any policeman who came in. In fact, he just sat and went through a pile of crossword magazines.
Matt and the guy he was working with at the moment, held a gun in their hands and climbed up the stairs, the place didn’t even have an elevator, and the owner let them do.
They arrive on floor #6 and Matt didn’t really pay attention to the order of the numbers.
When he saw 619, he didn’t notice that the 9 was actually a 6 who no one went to fix when the glue started to lose grip.
Matt didn’t even say something, he just banged the door open, gun in his hand, to find himself in front of some.... some scene.
There were these two guys, both sweaty, one considerably younger than the other, long, sweaty hair plastered on his skin and a very pink mouth which was on top on the other one, who has blond hair, tanned skin two very irate blue eyes. The younger guy was actually nibbling at the other’s neck, Matt thought, and he could feel himself fucking flush.
“The fuck? Who the hell you wanna arrest?”, the older guy said.
Matt actually struggled to find words. He was so confused that he couldn’t even read this guy’s mind.
“I... uhm... was supposed to arrest one... in room 619...”
“This ain’t 619, this is 616. What about doin’ your own business, Officer?”
Matt nodded, flushing even more than before, and slammed the door.
Five seconds later, he could hear a warm voice moan and mutter some obscenities.
Matt didn’t say anything and headed to room 619.
He couldn’t shake off that image though, even when they were bringing the right guy to the station. Every time he tried to think about something else, those lips on that neck blocked Matt’s mind and fuck it, he was hard.
Matt was just glad his shift was over.
He hoped Mohinder wasn’t tired from work that night, and even if he was, Matt didn’t really care.
Meeting #3
Matt knows he’s supposed to arrest this James Sawyer Ford who’s standing in front of him, looking defeated. He had a warrant over his head and from the file he read, he was on the run after this Cassidy girl he doesn’t remember the surname turned him in because he actually conned her.
He has been lucky. Ford’s car broke down and he’s just standing there, in a pretty cold night, only a cheap used leather jacket and faded jeans, holding out his hands and biting his lip. Then he smirks.
“Outta get me, huh, Officer?”
“Well, I wasn’t actually searching for you. But I saw your car and recognized it.”
“Means you’re good at what you’re doin’. Just tell me, who was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who turned me in?”
“A woman.”
“Cass, right?”
Matt knows he isn’t supposed to answer, but his expression kind of gives him away.
“Yeah, I just knew. I fucked up.”
“What do you mean you fucked up?”
“Nothin’. I just got everythin’ wrong. I shouldn’t have even accepted the deal first place. Well, now you got me, right?”
Matt nods and he’d be handcuffing him, if only...
I deserve this shit. I’d have done the same.
But I loved her.
Matt stops. Ford’s face is a reflection of pure misery.
I loved her so much.
He remembers reading Ford’s file.
And just for the moment, he feels overwhelmed. This guy fucked up, right, but he has an idea that he doesn’t know how else to do anything. Damn, what a situation. He’s actually pitying a con man.
That’s just completely crazy.
Except a voice in the back of his mind tells him they came from the same place and in some other world their roles may be reversed.
“Well, won’t ya arrest me already?”
Matt puts away the handcuffs.
“Go.”
“What?”, asks Ford in complete disbelief.
“You heard me. No one knew I had found you. Someone else is going to get you, but I won’t be the one arresting you. Just go, won’t you? Town’s three miles away and there’s a bus station.”
Ford’s eyes shine in the faint light of Matt’s penlight.
“Are you kiddin’ me?”
“Not in the slightest. Go, before I change my mind.”
Ford nods blindly, takes a backpack from the car and goes in the other direction.
Why the fuck did he do it? , Matt hears.
And then Thanks anyway, so heartfelt that Matt can feel something inside him twitching.
He goes back in the car, turns in the other direction and turns on the radio as loud as possible.
Meeting #4
“Now, how can someone possibly be so stupid?”, asks Matt to the guy in front of him.
James Sawyer Ford, 815 flight survivor, now arrested for damn conning again, two and a half years after their rescue, which he had to question now since his NYPD department seemed to think that he was better than all the others at questioning.
“Woah, Officer Parkman. You ain’t supposed to talk like that.”
“No, I’m not, but I don’t think you care. I mean, I should be asking you the usual questions, but you know what? I can’t bring myself to! Because when I read your file, it looks so stupid!”
“And why ‘s it stupid?”
“Because what did you think, conning after you became famous?!”
“’Cause it’s the only way I know, Officer. And now can we skip the whole thing?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve not been professional. So, is your name James Ford?”
“Yep.”
It hasn’t been for a long time, Matt hears, but doesn’t think about it.
“You plead yourself guilty or innocent?”
“Damn you, guilty. I won’t say I ain’t.”
“You know you could have a ten years sentence, if the woman doesn’t retreat?”
“I know. Already had. Though I managed...”
“... to have it commuted. I know. I read your file.”
“You read my file. Right. So you think you know everythin’ there is to know?”
Matt is starting to lose patience.
“No, I damn don’t, ok? And this would just be more easy if you just cooperated, you know?”
”Alrighty, ask.”
This is fun, Ford thinks, and Matt wants to scowl. He isn’t having fun at all.
“Why did you do it?”
“Hell, why? Because, Officer, I used all my fund to pay some stuff you really don’t wanna know ‘bout, and now I needed money. And ‘twasn’t any other way.”
“Really?”
“I told ya, I don’t know any other way.”
Does he really think I’d have done that, if I knew?
Matt doesn’t feel at ease.
“Well, at least you confessed. Now we’ll have to see what does your woman say. I guess you’ll get at least two years, though.”
“It don’t matter.”, Ford says bitterly, and Matt thinks if it really doesn’t matter. He’s almost forty now, though he has to admit he looks much younger, and Matt wonders if he’s really so excited to go back to prison.
They’ll be sendin’ me where I belong anyway.
Matt calls the cop outside and says it’s clear and they can bring Ford away. He doesn’t look at him while he leaves the room. He thinks they’ll never meet again anyway and it’s a thought that aches, even if he doesn’t know why.
Meeting #5
Matt and Mohinder never really fought, but that one time it happens, it’s a blow.
Matt, sitting at the bar, sipping some beer, can’t even remember how it started. He just knows that something snipped and then they were shouting at each other and Molly was screaming and he just grabbed a jacket and left.
He never felt more miserable in his life.
“Not in service, I hope.”
Matt turns and looks next to him. There’s this guy sitting there, someone he’s sure he should place, flawless blond hair flowing around his neck, sharp blue eyes, jeans jacket, whiskey glass and sad smirk.
“No, my shift’s over, thank you.”
“Hey, I always am for a good drinkin’ moment.”
“Well, I’m not in the right mood.”
The guy suddenly becomes serious.
“Mr Policeman, I think there’s somethin’ botherin’ you.”
Matt is starting to get annoyed.
“Yeah, there is. And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well, that’s just fine, too.”, the guy says, and Matt wants to punch him. Except...
He damn looks miserable. Well, if he doesn’t think he can use helpin’, means I won’t bother.
That thought seemed sincere enough, Matt thinks.
“And why are you interested anyway?”
The guy takes a sip.
“Just saw you like that ‘n well, I’ve been in that position couple times myself. You had a quarrel?”
“How do you...?”
“Believe me, I know. Mr...”
“Parkman. Matt Parkman.”
“Well, Matt, I know. Girl problems?”, he smirks.
“Maybe, Mr...”
“James.”
He doesn’t say the surname and Matt doesn’t care.
“We could say that.”
“Love problems? Is your girl betrayin’ you?”
“My old girl probably was. Current one, isn’t a girl.”
James’ eyebrows rise.
“Is she a he?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
Matt finds himself smiling fondly even if he doesn’t want to.
“Seems like you’re head over heels for him.”
“If you saw him, you’d agree.”
“Really?”
Matt does it on impulse. Takes his wallet out and damn, he feels so damn sappy showing a complete stranger that he actually keeps a picture of Molly and Mohinder in there. Sawyer just whistles.
“Well, Beverly Hills Cop, your friend is gorgeous, I must say.”
“How the hell did you know I’m from LA?”, says Matt actually skipping on the fact that this guy is nicknaming him and they’ve known each other for ten minutes.
“I can recognize an accent when I’m hearin’ one. Whose is the little girl?”
“Molly? Well... it’s a long story, really.”
“I’m up for hearin’ it.”
Matt flushes and tells the whole thing without mentioning the fact that Sylar actually eats people’s brains to steal their power and that he actually reads minds. He doesn’t need to pass like a freak.
James drowns the last of his whiskey and asks for a beer bottle.
“Well, ain’t that just sweet?”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Not at all, Official Murphy. It’s sweet, really.”
You don’t even get how, James thinks and Matt hears.
“Y’know, I’ve got a girl too. ‘Bout that same age. I think.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. I ain’t ever seen her, really. Me and her mom, well, let’s say we never parted on good terms.”
“You regret it?”
“Maybe”, he answers and it’s too cryptic for actually making any kind of sense to Matt.
“So, you were arguin’?”
“Well, yes.”
“’Bout what?”
“I really can’t remember.”
The beer arrives. James pops the cap and takes a swig from the bottle.
“Then you know, why ain’t ya there? I guess he’s forgotten by now too.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I think so. And even if he hasn’t, it ain’t worth stayin’ here. At least according to me.”
Matt looks at the photo again and yeah, it makes sense. He nods and pays for both of their drinks.
“Hey, why...?”
“I can at least offer you a drink, right?”
“Well, yeah, right. Good luck, Detective Foley.”
Matt snorts and leaves the bar. When he gets home, Mohinder forgot about the reason he left in the first place too.
Matt doesn’t think Mohinder’s kiss has ever tasted sweeter.
End.
lasamy's one. Soon to follow on this place: at least one of the Christmas fics I owe, Jack/Tim/Sylar, Mohinder walking on heated Nathan/Sayid and taking his revenge on Matt while Peter & Adam babysit, maybe Nathan hitting on Rosseau and a possible nuclear explosion. Augh.Title: Five Times James Sawyer Ford Never Met Matt Parkman
Rating: should be PG13, but there's a very blatant NC scene. I really don't know if someone can be scarred for life with two lines of bad sex description. But since I'm not pimping this anywhere until I get some FL responses, I guess I can decide after.
Characters/Pairings: Sawyer, Matt, Matt/Mohinder, Sawyer/Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights, slash of course.
Summary: As the title say, five times in which Sawyer never met Matt.
Spoilers: Heroes, general S2; Lost, general S3, 1x16 Outlaws and 2x13 The Long Con. FNL: no spoilers.
Word count: around 3500
Disclaimer: Lost = no mine, Heroes = no mine, FNL = no mine.
Warnings: goes from angst to total crack to angst to IDK what.
A/N: two of these are out
lasamy's meme where she got Matt walking in on Sawyer and Tim having sex and Matt & Sawyer hurt/comfort. Sadly, there's much hurt and no comfort. Anyway, to be detailed: #1 is completely AU since Matt should have been much older for this to happen and angst; #2 is crack; #3 is AU since I made Matt realize he read minds earlier than on show; #4 and #5 are in truth possible with both canons. Concrit is welcome, since I really don't know what the hell I'm doing.Meeting #1
Matt had been waiting for months for the transfer. He doesn’t really understand why the ever sent him to damn Knoxville, Tennessee in the first place, but his request has been accepted and he’s back in LA in two weeks, maybe less. His time at the Knoxville police station is almost over and he likes Tennessee, but he’s grateful because he prefers California much better.
This seems a quiet night when they get the call. Some sixty-year-old granny says that she heard gunshots in the apartment under hers and Please, can you come and have a look?
Of course they send him and the other guy who arrived just after he did.
Matt gets the coffee he had half drank and goes out of the station with this guy Sam. He’s thankful Sam actually likes to drive because he feels goddamn sleepy even if this is his third coffee and driving looks like the worst thing on earth.
And he’s sure they’re not going to find anything there anyway.
Matt and Sam park in front of the building, it’s a simple nice palace of four floors or something like that and this Mrs Clemons that called lives at the fourth. They knock on the door and she opens and Matt was right, she’s a nice old lady of no more than sixty five years who’s wearing a lace pink nightgown and a pair of black reading glasses.
“Hi, I’m Officer Matt Parkman and he’s Officer Sam Boyle. Can you tell us what happened?”
She nods.
“Well, I was here watchin’ something on television when I heard some loud bangin’ on the door and late me tell you, son, I recognized the voice.”
“Who was?”
“The man who lives down there. Mr. Ford, I tell you. He was screamin’ at his wife, poor Mary she is, and he threatened and asked her to let him in... It lasted a couple minutes, then the door opened and I heard a gun shot. And after a minute or somethin’ like that, I heard another.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t the TV?”, asks Sam not too convinced.
“Officer, the only program where people shoot airin’ right now is Rawhide and let me tell ya, I hate westerns. I was watchin’..”
Matt decides that it’s better to calm things down.
“Hey, hey, you know what? Now me and Officer Boyle are going to check it out and then we’ll tell you if anything happened, alright?”
“That’s the spirit, young man! Your colleague should learn from you.”
Matt actually blushes, takes Sam’s arm and leads him towards the stairs when...
“Officer! I was forgettin’ something. The Fords... they have a kid. He’s about eight or nine. His name’s James. Make sure he’s safe!”
“Got it!”
They go down the stairs and Sam looks at Matt.
“Why the hell are you even paying attention? She dreamed the whole thing, it’s just plain!”
“Maybe, but having a look won’t do no harm. And we’re here anyway, right?”
Sam shrugs and they are on the third floor. Matt searches for the Ford, Michael and Mary label and when he finds it, he knocks.
Complete silence.
He knocks again. Silence again.
“Matt, come on, man, they’re sleeping. Probably.”
Matt isn’t totally convinced but can’t really prove anything.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. We should go and..”
Mommy?
Matt stops dead in his tracks.
“Hey, Sam, you heard that?”
“Heard? What?”
“A voice. It seemed a kid to me.”
“Matt, you’re hallucinating.”
Please. Where are you?
Matt feels something twitch in his gut. This time he’s sure he heard it.
“Sam, there’s something wrong. We have to get in there.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer and when he tries to open the door crashing his shoulder against it, it actually opens without any problems.
It wasn’t locked.
He looks inside and wants to throw up.
“Oh, Jesus. ”
A young blonde woman lies on the floor. She’s wearing a beige light dress; her white, smooth skin is covered in blood coming from a bullet shot point blank right in her chest.
What’s this?
Matt hears that voice again and tries to follow it. He sees some dirt on the floor. It’s prints. Boot prints. He follows them to a next room.
There’s a bed. A man lies on it. Matt thinks he’s blond, too. If his head wasn’t only covered in blood. He’s got to be no more than thirty five. He wears black boots and a coat. He holds a gun in his hand. He’s shot himself in the head and the blood is falling on the ground going down under the bed.
Why is all so red?
Matt’s head is aching. The voice is near.
“Hey, who are you? Where are you?”
Who is this now? Still. She said not to move.
It’s not a coherent thing to say, Matt thinks. Except that whover it is it looks like thoughts and the voice is a kid’s and...
The Fords. They have a kid. He’s about eight or nine.
“James?”, he asks.
How does he know me? And how does he know I’m here?
Oh fuck, Matt thinks, but he’ll try to reason about this later.
“The woman living upstairs, she told me. I... I really don’t know where you are, but well, I... I can hear you for how stupid it must seem and... well, I’m Officer Matt Parkman and if you are anywhere near, you can come out, ok? Where... where are you?”
Why is it so red?
And then Matt understands.
Red. The blood is spreading. It’s...
Under the bed, he thinks, and kneels on the floor. He looks down.
He wasn’t mistaken. The kid is down there, blood surrounding him, blond with two huge blue eyes staring at him and fuck it, how is he supposed to get him out like this?
“James?”
The kid nods.
“Well, I’ve already said before...”
“Officer... Parkman..?”, the kid says.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s me. Sam! Come over here!”
Matt stands up and sees his colleague covering his mouth.
“Don’t you ever think on throwing up now. The boy’s under the bed, Sam.”
“What? And he...”
“Yeah”, Matt whispers, “Shot his wife and then himself. Listen, we’ve got to move that body.”
“You’re crazy? This is...”
“How am I supposed to get the kid out of there without him seeing it?”
Sam shuts up and they move the body on a chair in the corner of the room. Matt then moves the bed and puts himself between the shaking kid and the chair.
“Listen, James, we’ve got to get out of here. Now, can you stand?”
He nods and he stands up. His legs are shaking.
“Good”, Matt says. “Now, turn. Like this.”
When he’d giving him the shoulders, Matt grabs him from behind and while Sam calls the station from the phone, he gets out of the apartment as soon as he can hoping that poor boy doesn’t see his mother and when they get in the car, he goes in the backseat with him.
After a couple of days, they found out that some con man under the name of Sawyer conned that poor kid’s mother and after her husband discovered it...
Matt has to be the one who tells him because the boy didn’t want to talk to anyone else.
“You say a man conned her?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s his name?”
Matt shrugs.
“It’s just a nickname, we don’t know. He goes by Sawyer. Tom Sawyer.”
“Sawyer.”, James says.
It’s the last time Matt sees him because they transfer him to LA the week after.
But he’s never going to forget the first time he heard someone’s thoughts.
Meeting #2
Sawyer really didn’t know what the hell was he thinking when he offered a drink to that barely legal kid in the New York bar where he went that evening. He hadn’t been back in L.A. since the rescue.
Thing was, the kid looked completely lost and at loss for everything, he couldn’t even figure what to order, and so Sawyer kind of came to the rescue. The kid was from Texas and had just a big backpack; he told Sawyer he had always wanted to go see New York and now he was heading to Boston because his best friend was having some kinda therapy there for something Sawyer didn’t understand, since he really didn’t care about the kid’s best friend, but he was short on money and so was searching for a cheap way to spend the night before taking the next greyhound tomorrow. Sawyer nodded and offered him a drink. The kid’s name was Tim and he accepted.
“Hey, not to ruin anythin’, but are you legal? I wouldn’t wanna get in trouble for...”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here first place.”
Sawyer thought the kid had a point. He told him he knew a cheap motel ‘round the corner. Tim said cool, I can check it out. Sawyer didn’t tell him it was cheap because people on the run actually used it to hid for a couple days before running from the city but hell, he was living there for the moment, and nothing usually happened.
Sawyer didn’t really remember how the hell did he end up in bed with the kid giving him head, some pretty, full, luscious lips caressing his hard-on and slowly licking and sucking it, with really some experience, but while he grabbed the sheets on his bed in room 616 because it didn’t have an headstand he decided it wasn’t that bad.
Kate had been the last. And a year had passed from then anyway. It wasn’t like he had forced the kid or something. He started it, he was legal, hell, for once one could have sex without thinking about anything else other than the sex.
--
Matt received a call at the central. There was this robber they had been searching for some time who hid at that crappy motel in Queens and it was just the right time. The informer said room 619.
The owner of the hotel knew what kind of people paid his rooms and he was just neutral. He never asked anyone information and he never stopped any policeman who came in. In fact, he just sat and went through a pile of crossword magazines.
Matt and the guy he was working with at the moment, held a gun in their hands and climbed up the stairs, the place didn’t even have an elevator, and the owner let them do.
They arrive on floor #6 and Matt didn’t really pay attention to the order of the numbers.
When he saw 619, he didn’t notice that the 9 was actually a 6 who no one went to fix when the glue started to lose grip.
Matt didn’t even say something, he just banged the door open, gun in his hand, to find himself in front of some.... some scene.
There were these two guys, both sweaty, one considerably younger than the other, long, sweaty hair plastered on his skin and a very pink mouth which was on top on the other one, who has blond hair, tanned skin two very irate blue eyes. The younger guy was actually nibbling at the other’s neck, Matt thought, and he could feel himself fucking flush.
“The fuck? Who the hell you wanna arrest?”, the older guy said.
Matt actually struggled to find words. He was so confused that he couldn’t even read this guy’s mind.
“I... uhm... was supposed to arrest one... in room 619...”
“This ain’t 619, this is 616. What about doin’ your own business, Officer?”
Matt nodded, flushing even more than before, and slammed the door.
Five seconds later, he could hear a warm voice moan and mutter some obscenities.
Matt didn’t say anything and headed to room 619.
He couldn’t shake off that image though, even when they were bringing the right guy to the station. Every time he tried to think about something else, those lips on that neck blocked Matt’s mind and fuck it, he was hard.
Matt was just glad his shift was over.
He hoped Mohinder wasn’t tired from work that night, and even if he was, Matt didn’t really care.
Meeting #3
Matt knows he’s supposed to arrest this James Sawyer Ford who’s standing in front of him, looking defeated. He had a warrant over his head and from the file he read, he was on the run after this Cassidy girl he doesn’t remember the surname turned him in because he actually conned her.
He has been lucky. Ford’s car broke down and he’s just standing there, in a pretty cold night, only a cheap used leather jacket and faded jeans, holding out his hands and biting his lip. Then he smirks.
“Outta get me, huh, Officer?”
“Well, I wasn’t actually searching for you. But I saw your car and recognized it.”
“Means you’re good at what you’re doin’. Just tell me, who was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who turned me in?”
“A woman.”
“Cass, right?”
Matt knows he isn’t supposed to answer, but his expression kind of gives him away.
“Yeah, I just knew. I fucked up.”
“What do you mean you fucked up?”
“Nothin’. I just got everythin’ wrong. I shouldn’t have even accepted the deal first place. Well, now you got me, right?”
Matt nods and he’d be handcuffing him, if only...
I deserve this shit. I’d have done the same.
But I loved her.
Matt stops. Ford’s face is a reflection of pure misery.
I loved her so much.
He remembers reading Ford’s file.
And just for the moment, he feels overwhelmed. This guy fucked up, right, but he has an idea that he doesn’t know how else to do anything. Damn, what a situation. He’s actually pitying a con man.
That’s just completely crazy.
Except a voice in the back of his mind tells him they came from the same place and in some other world their roles may be reversed.
“Well, won’t ya arrest me already?”
Matt puts away the handcuffs.
“Go.”
“What?”, asks Ford in complete disbelief.
“You heard me. No one knew I had found you. Someone else is going to get you, but I won’t be the one arresting you. Just go, won’t you? Town’s three miles away and there’s a bus station.”
Ford’s eyes shine in the faint light of Matt’s penlight.
“Are you kiddin’ me?”
“Not in the slightest. Go, before I change my mind.”
Ford nods blindly, takes a backpack from the car and goes in the other direction.
Why the fuck did he do it? , Matt hears.
And then Thanks anyway, so heartfelt that Matt can feel something inside him twitching.
He goes back in the car, turns in the other direction and turns on the radio as loud as possible.
Meeting #4
“Now, how can someone possibly be so stupid?”, asks Matt to the guy in front of him.
James Sawyer Ford, 815 flight survivor, now arrested for damn conning again, two and a half years after their rescue, which he had to question now since his NYPD department seemed to think that he was better than all the others at questioning.
“Woah, Officer Parkman. You ain’t supposed to talk like that.”
“No, I’m not, but I don’t think you care. I mean, I should be asking you the usual questions, but you know what? I can’t bring myself to! Because when I read your file, it looks so stupid!”
“And why ‘s it stupid?”
“Because what did you think, conning after you became famous?!”
“’Cause it’s the only way I know, Officer. And now can we skip the whole thing?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve not been professional. So, is your name James Ford?”
“Yep.”
It hasn’t been for a long time, Matt hears, but doesn’t think about it.
“You plead yourself guilty or innocent?”
“Damn you, guilty. I won’t say I ain’t.”
“You know you could have a ten years sentence, if the woman doesn’t retreat?”
“I know. Already had. Though I managed...”
“... to have it commuted. I know. I read your file.”
“You read my file. Right. So you think you know everythin’ there is to know?”
Matt is starting to lose patience.
“No, I damn don’t, ok? And this would just be more easy if you just cooperated, you know?”
”Alrighty, ask.”
This is fun, Ford thinks, and Matt wants to scowl. He isn’t having fun at all.
“Why did you do it?”
“Hell, why? Because, Officer, I used all my fund to pay some stuff you really don’t wanna know ‘bout, and now I needed money. And ‘twasn’t any other way.”
“Really?”
“I told ya, I don’t know any other way.”
Does he really think I’d have done that, if I knew?
Matt doesn’t feel at ease.
“Well, at least you confessed. Now we’ll have to see what does your woman say. I guess you’ll get at least two years, though.”
“It don’t matter.”, Ford says bitterly, and Matt thinks if it really doesn’t matter. He’s almost forty now, though he has to admit he looks much younger, and Matt wonders if he’s really so excited to go back to prison.
They’ll be sendin’ me where I belong anyway.
Matt calls the cop outside and says it’s clear and they can bring Ford away. He doesn’t look at him while he leaves the room. He thinks they’ll never meet again anyway and it’s a thought that aches, even if he doesn’t know why.
Meeting #5
Matt and Mohinder never really fought, but that one time it happens, it’s a blow.
Matt, sitting at the bar, sipping some beer, can’t even remember how it started. He just knows that something snipped and then they were shouting at each other and Molly was screaming and he just grabbed a jacket and left.
He never felt more miserable in his life.
“Not in service, I hope.”
Matt turns and looks next to him. There’s this guy sitting there, someone he’s sure he should place, flawless blond hair flowing around his neck, sharp blue eyes, jeans jacket, whiskey glass and sad smirk.
“No, my shift’s over, thank you.”
“Hey, I always am for a good drinkin’ moment.”
“Well, I’m not in the right mood.”
The guy suddenly becomes serious.
“Mr Policeman, I think there’s somethin’ botherin’ you.”
Matt is starting to get annoyed.
“Yeah, there is. And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well, that’s just fine, too.”, the guy says, and Matt wants to punch him. Except...
He damn looks miserable. Well, if he doesn’t think he can use helpin’, means I won’t bother.
That thought seemed sincere enough, Matt thinks.
“And why are you interested anyway?”
The guy takes a sip.
“Just saw you like that ‘n well, I’ve been in that position couple times myself. You had a quarrel?”
“How do you...?”
“Believe me, I know. Mr...”
“Parkman. Matt Parkman.”
“Well, Matt, I know. Girl problems?”, he smirks.
“Maybe, Mr...”
“James.”
He doesn’t say the surname and Matt doesn’t care.
“We could say that.”
“Love problems? Is your girl betrayin’ you?”
“My old girl probably was. Current one, isn’t a girl.”
James’ eyebrows rise.
“Is she a he?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
Matt finds himself smiling fondly even if he doesn’t want to.
“Seems like you’re head over heels for him.”
“If you saw him, you’d agree.”
“Really?”
Matt does it on impulse. Takes his wallet out and damn, he feels so damn sappy showing a complete stranger that he actually keeps a picture of Molly and Mohinder in there. Sawyer just whistles.
“Well, Beverly Hills Cop, your friend is gorgeous, I must say.”
“How the hell did you know I’m from LA?”, says Matt actually skipping on the fact that this guy is nicknaming him and they’ve known each other for ten minutes.
“I can recognize an accent when I’m hearin’ one. Whose is the little girl?”
“Molly? Well... it’s a long story, really.”
“I’m up for hearin’ it.”
Matt flushes and tells the whole thing without mentioning the fact that Sylar actually eats people’s brains to steal their power and that he actually reads minds. He doesn’t need to pass like a freak.
James drowns the last of his whiskey and asks for a beer bottle.
“Well, ain’t that just sweet?”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Not at all, Official Murphy. It’s sweet, really.”
You don’t even get how, James thinks and Matt hears.
“Y’know, I’ve got a girl too. ‘Bout that same age. I think.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. I ain’t ever seen her, really. Me and her mom, well, let’s say we never parted on good terms.”
“You regret it?”
“Maybe”, he answers and it’s too cryptic for actually making any kind of sense to Matt.
“So, you were arguin’?”
“Well, yes.”
“’Bout what?”
“I really can’t remember.”
The beer arrives. James pops the cap and takes a swig from the bottle.
“Then you know, why ain’t ya there? I guess he’s forgotten by now too.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I think so. And even if he hasn’t, it ain’t worth stayin’ here. At least according to me.”
Matt looks at the photo again and yeah, it makes sense. He nods and pays for both of their drinks.
“Hey, why...?”
“I can at least offer you a drink, right?”
“Well, yeah, right. Good luck, Detective Foley.”
Matt snorts and leaves the bar. When he gets home, Mohinder forgot about the reason he left in the first place too.
Matt doesn’t think Mohinder’s kiss has ever tasted sweeter.
End.
