Log: Matt & Molly

[x-daredevil.livejournal.com]

On Parent's Day after Matt beats up Artie, Yvette takes Matt and Molly to get ice cream where they discuss growing up, fighting and doing the right thing



Beating the shit out of Artie had been good. He'd needed it really. Artie was being a dick about everything and while Matt could potentially over look what had happened over the weekend in the sewers, being a jerk about it all afterwards he could not. It'd made him so angry. And beating Artie up made him a lot less angry. It had helped that Artie had barely fought back too.

Taking a minute to get himself back together because it wouldn't do to look like he'd gone a couple rounds in a boxing ring before meeting Molly, Matt recombed his hair and found his glasses to put back on. That was good. Heading downstairs, he was already feeling better. Yes, this was good. Ice cream off campus and beating up his roommate. The day was improving significantly. The only thing was that he had some of Artie's blood on his hands still and on his shirt and he did not notice that.

Molly waited for Matt at the foot of the mansion stairs. She'd changed hats to wear her yellow hat that looked a bit like a floppy yellow sun cause she didn't have a storm cloud hat and she hoped it'd make her happy. So far it didn't work.

Her eyes flickered upward as Matt came but quickly lowered.

"Hi," she said quietly. She already remembered to be quiet around Matt but she was even quieter than before, fidgeting with her shirt. She didn't see the blood yet.

"Hey," Matt spoke quietly, but in a more-normal voice. Molly was just fine regardless of how quietly she spoke and given it all, he would probably forgive her if she forgot. They had good reason right now. "You ready?"

Molly nodded, then paused, remembering he wouldn't see it.

"Yeah," she said. She knew why Artie was mad, but she didn't like it when he called her a name. A lot of names, actually.

"Are you gonna get a sundae or a cone?"

That was a very important question actually, "Probably a sundae. A really big one," he decided. He wanted a lot of ice cream even if it was cold and stuff. "As soon as Yvette gets here, we can go." He didn't hear her yet.

There was the distinctive muffled click of Yvette's feet in their socks as she came in from the direction of the kitchen. "I am sorry to be slow," she said as she saw the two waiting for her. "There were parents..." She paused as she caught sight of the red stains on Matt's hands and shirt. "Matt? Are you hurt? There is blood..."

He shrugged, "I'm fine," he replied easily, not making a big deal of it. "I'll...uh, go wash my hands, okay?" ooops. He hadn't realized that he hadn't there was blood there. Parents. Ugh. Suck. He was not a fan of parent days.

Molly's eyes widened. "Dude...what did you do?" she asked, entirely curious and not accusing.

"Are you okay? Do we need to go see Doctor Beast?"

"Here." Yvette pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and approached Matt, laying her hand carefully on his arm to let him know where she was before she took one of the bloodied hands in hers and wiped at it. "Your knuckles are bruised," she said softly. "Did you hit someone?"

"I'm fine," Matt insisted with a sigh, "And no. I didn't," yeah, he was lying completely through his teeth, but if he told the truth then he wouldn't get ice cream. And he wanted ice cream. He could be punished later. "Just a wall, okay? I didn't even mess the wall," he didn't have cuts on his knuckles though to support that. "Can we just go get ice cream, please?"

Yvette gave him an assessing gaze (which he couldn't see) and looked over at Molly, who was looking anxious and subdued. "Ice cream it is," she said, making a mental note to chase things up when she got back later, if they hadn't been already. "The place in Salem Center with the hundreds of flavours, yes?"

Molly frowned. "I hope you're okay," she said. She forgot sometimes it hurt when people who weren't strong punched things.

Finally she nodded a little. "I would like moose tracks please. It has peanut butter in it. And fudge," she said quietly. She felt bad Matt was in pain. And Artie was mean. And everyone else was sad or mad or both and yelling at each other. And her mom and daddy didn't get to come to Parent's Day.

"That sounds good," Matt agreed as they all headed towards the car. The ride to the ice cream place wasn't all that long and they promised to call when they were ready to go. Right now, Matt was not interested in heading back to Xavier's all that quickly.

Getting in line, Matt made Molly list all the ice cream choices and mix-in options before he finally made up his mind - an ice cream sundae with all the fixings...but no whipped cream. "Why's your ice cream called 'moose tracks?'" he asked as their ice creams were mixed and made respectively.

Molly looked around the room. It smelled like ice cream, and it was cold. She liked it a lot.

"I dunno...they called it that in California," she said with a shrug, watching them make it with her hands propped up on the handrail.

"Maybe cause its brown?" she said. They had funny names for ice cream usually. Especially those Ben and Jerry guys.

"Do you wanna try some?"

"Yeah, sure, if you're offering," Matt grinned, "I'm pretty sure anything with peanut butter and fudge cannot be bad. Ever. I'm gonna share my sundae too, regardless. But I don't like whipped cream," it was just a thing. It tasted funny to him.

That earned Molly a soft smile, and she tapped her toes on the ground as she continued to watch the ice cream men work, mesmerized.

"That's okay, I don't like nuts on mine..." she said, curling her nose.

"Why don't you like whipped cream?"

"I dunno," Matt shrugged, leaning against the case. "It tastes funny and not in a good way. And it's like...wispy sort of? Not really a solid or a liquid. It's confusing. I like stuff I understand. Which...sort of sounds lame and weird, but I whipped cream is sort of weird."

"It leaves stuff on your tongue," Molly offered. She remembered that part, but she liked it herself. She would sneak some sprays at night when her mom bought whipped cream for strawberry shortcake.

Molly fell silent for a few moments, tapping her toes again.

"Did you beat Artie up?" she said quietly.

Sometimes she really did know about stuff that people thought she was too young to understand. She was not dumb, like he said. It still hurt her feelings that he said that and probably would for awhile.

"Yeah, I did," Matt replied. "He deserved it too."

Molly looked down."Oh," she said, nodding a little.

She didn't really know what to say. The adults would probably say that was bad to do, but it kinda made her feel better. Was that good or bad?

"So why were you unhappy earlier on your journal?"

Everybody was having a bad day. A very very bad day.

Their ice creams were ready then and Matt took his, then fished his money out to pay for them both. Molly probably had money, but she was 12 and he didn't mind paying for them both. It wasn't all that expensive, "Let's get a table, yeah?" he suggested, reaching out to take her shoulder with the hand his cane was normally in. It hung off his wrist by a strap.

Once they were seated, Matt replied to her questions, "Just that it's parent day and you know...I sort of lack parents. Not that yours are around either or you wouldn't be here with me. And my powers did weird stuff in the sewers, nothing bad, but it freaked me out. Plus, that whole kidnapping, brainwashing thing. Whatever it was. And the ghosts...it's a lot, I guess. Maybe that's normal to you, but not me." The ice cream was delicious though.

Molly went at her ice cream, immediately getting a rather large ice cream mustache as she took a bite.

"It's cause we live with superheroes. Weeeird stuff happens. A lot," she whispered quietly so only the two of them could hear, nodding. It made perfect sense to her. She took another bite.

"The batcave was kinda stinky, though so I didn't like that...it was nice for a little while but I'm glad we got to go home."

She stared at her cone for a little while.

"I'm sad my parents didn't get to come. They said they were busy. I wanted to show them me and Meggan's room."

"I guess," was it weird that her explanation about living with superheros was actually making sense? Weird.

"I'm glad we got to go home too though. I don't like stinky. Or echoy. Or....well, a lot of things. Stupid powers make me all sorts of sensitive and stuff," he paused, munching on some banana, "Maybe they'll come another time?" Matt suggested, trying to be positive.

Molly shook her head. "I dunno. They said they didn't want the bad guys to know where they were or where I was so they said it'd be better if they didn't come," she said.

She looked down, swallowing. "Do you think I'm....what Artie said?" she said. She couldn't say the word. It was a bad word.

"Cause I'm not...like a lot of other kids?"

She knew she was a little different, but most people didn't seem to think that was a bad thing. Or they didn't say anything to her about it. She had trouble in school but a lot of other kids did.

"No, I don't," Matt told her honestly. "You're not like other kids. You're like you. And that's who you should be like, okay? So you're doing a good job of that. People've called me retarded before and all sorts of things, I get lumped in with them and all sorts of others all the time, because I'm blind. And the thing is...yeah, it's not a nice word. But just because some ignorant SOB with a stick up his ass says it does not mean it's true either."

Molly focused on her ice cream, which had started to melt. She didn't know what to say. It still bothered her.

"Why are people so mean to each other?" she said quietly. It really sucked.

Awww, ooor kid. Matt wanted to cuff her head and tell her it'd be okay. "Because they're scared usually," he replied. "Scared of...all sorts of stuff. What is, what might be, the what-ifs. Artie's scared he's gonna lose his mom for good and all that. Lose those memories and all that. Because even though they're bad memories probably, they're still his and made him who he is, you know? It's easy to give into fear and be scared. But you can't do that. You gotta be strong and not fear anything."

Molly fidgeted with her hat. "I'm already strong, though," she insisted, then paused.

"Oh...you mean like...in your heart and stuff?" she said, patting her chest.

"Yeah, not physical strength. Sometimes, people find it in faith or religion or themselves or other people or just...anywhere really," he paused, eating his ice cream before it melted too much,. "You know my dad died, right?"

Matt's attempts at finishing off his ice cream reminded Molly of her own and she used her own time tested method: slurping.

She shook her head. "No...I'm sorry," she said with a frown.

"Thanks," Matt replied, because really, it wasn't okay, "Anyways though, he was a boxer. And he didn't finish high school or nothin'. Not the most book smart guy, you know? But anyways, he worked hard, did his best. He didn't succeed a lot, drank too much. Ended up working for the mob. I ain't supposed to know, but...I could hear him talking sometimes," as he spoke his accent got thicker, more pronounced, "The fight he had was fixed, all his fights were. He was a crooked, over the hill boxer. A has-been with a blind kid. He was supposed to lose that fight, but...he didn't. He won it. And I dunno why he did that or what he thought would happen, but I was waiting for him after the fight outside the theater and there was a gunshot. By the time I got to the back door, he was long dead. One bullet through the forehead, you know? Just like the movies. They'd beat the shit out of him too, broke the bones in his face so bad I couldn't recognize him. But that? That's the kind of strength I'm talking about. The kind inside you." It was clear that regardless of his faults, Matt had a major case of hero-worship when it came to his dad.

Molly nearly dropped her ice cream, entirely wrapped up in the story, for better or worse, and in this case, worse. It made her sad to think about it.

"Wow...I....wow," she said. She was surprised she could say words. It was sad, though.

"Like...the real mob?"

Oh, Molly. Matt wanted to hit his head against the table. "Yeah, kid. The real mob. It ain't just on TV or whatever. And no, I ain't in it. And no, I ain't gonna introduce you to anyone in it either. Ever." Just in case she asked.

Molly blinked. "What? Oh...no I'd only kick their butts for that!" she said. Mob people were bad, obviously.

"Or maybe punch them or something..." she added, a spark of life back in her voice at the notion.

"Bad guys...yeah."

"Yeah..." Matt wasn't too fond of the mob, really. He thought he had good reason. "But regardless. That's not the point. The point is, my dad had that inner strength. That sort of thing you gotta find in you too. Or in someone or something else so that you're not scared. Make sense?"

Molly nodded. "So like...don't get all sad or mad and stuff when people call you bad things?" she said.

"Right. You can get mad, sure, no one likes it when they're called names, but you gotta remember that it's not personal. That that other person is just scared of something and lashing out the only way they know how," which did not help explain at all why he had beat up Artie or other people and all that, but hopefully Molly would notice that.

Falling silent for a few moments, Molly nodded a little.

"I guess that makes sense," she said, shrugging.

Her eyes flickered upward. She made a face.

"I'm still not gonna talk to him for awhile, though."

"That's fair," Matt agreed. He probably wouldn't be speaking to Artie for a while either.