They're on the tarmac when Matt's phone rings. He looks at the number and then at Nathan. "It's Mohinder."

Nathan nods. "The husband, right."

For a moment, Matt looks like he's going to argue, but then he shrugs and grins. "You mind?"

Nathan shakes his head and waves him off. "Feel free, I'll just -- " he stops. Parkman's already up and on the move, the phone to his ear. The quiet murmur of his voice is a tone that Nathan remembers well.

He sighs, but doesn't take out the picture. He's already memorized every detail of the faces in it. They've taken to waiting for him in his dreams. Stretching out his legs, he presses his head back into the seat and closes his eyes.

Sitting in an enclosed space with a telepath; not the best place to have a crisis. One of the circles of hell has to be available. God knows, Ma's probably got her own spot booked.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Matt hisses. Nathan's eyes fly open and he sits up. No point in pretending he didn't hear. Again. Telepath. Instead, he shrugs and looks sympathetic.

At least he hopes it looks sympathetic. It's been awhile since he actually felt much sympathy. Been a while since he's felt much of anything really.

Which is kind of pathetic if he thinks about it much. God, he wants a drink.

Matt shakes his head, looking frustrated. "Mohinder, ho-seriously, tell me you didn't." He drops into the seat across from Nathan and presses his forehead into his hand. "Son of a bitch."

He huffs a breath, looking up. Nathan gives him a look. "Been there," he says. A few conversations with Heidi come to mind and Matt smiles wryly, nodding.

Sitting back, Matt sighs. "Mohinder, I can't talk about this right now. We're heading back to New York, we'll talk about this when I get home, okay?" He pauses, looking annoyed. "Correction, we'll talk about this when you get home."

Oh yeah, Nathan remembers this conversation. At least, parts of it. He's been on both sides. Heidi and Peter saw to that.

"Yeah, yeah," Matt says, his expression wearies and Nathan looks away. "We made some progress at least. There's stuff I can't tell you, not over the phone."

There was a time when Nathan's life was normal. The DA's office, paper trails and trials, politics and family. Granted, the politics were dirty and the family fucked up, but he understood the play.

"God, this sucks," he mutters.

Matt nods emphatically as he says, "Just be careful," he frowns. "We'll worry about the rest of it later." He hesitates, looking up at Nathan.

Politely, Nathan averts his eyes. It's about all he can do as Matt lowers his voice, murmuring, "Love you too."

When he looks back, Matt's tucking the phone into his pocket. "Some days? You can't fucking win," Matt says, fumbling for his seatbelt.

Nathan fastens his and nods. "Don't I know it. Remember when we had normal lives?"

"Yeah," Matt says. "They fucking sucked, but they were normal."

They chuckle together.

"So, uh, hate to kill the mood, but I'm guessing all's not good on the homefront?" Nathan says.

"You think?" Matt asks, the sarcasm laid on thick. "Sorry," he says almost immediately. "It's just -- Molly's still sick and, uh, Mohinder got called out of town on business."

"So, who's with Molly?" Nathan winces when Matt scowls. "Oh."

"Yep," Matt clenches a fist, thumping it on the armrest. "I'm gonna kill him." He vows. "I'm going to check on Molly, then I'm going to kill him."

"You're not going to kill him," Nathan assures. "The fight'll be epic, but you're not going to kill him." He looks at him. "Trust me, speaking from experience here." He's said the same thing about Peter more times than he can count. "You'll want to, entertain a few fantasies that involve an entertaining variety of blunt objects -- "

"But in the end, Molly'll wake up, we'll be fine, and the make-up sex epic?" Matt finishes.

"Something like that," Nathan says. He clears his throat. "I was going for something a little more G-rated, but that'd be the gist of it."

"We were doing so good," Matt says. "Really good." He looks out the window as the plane takes off. "Molly was having the nightmare, but she was getting better. Now? Fuck, I'm an idiot."

Nathan chuckles. "No, you're a parent."

Matt looks at him. "There's going to be elaboration, right?"

"You're a telepath, Parkman," Nathan says. "You must've heard what I was thinking. You guys fucked up, welcome to parenthood. If you're doing everything right? You're probably doing everything wrong." He takes a moment to appreciate the fact that he is dispensing advice on parenthood.

Somewhere right now Pete's laughing his ass off.

"Look, take it from me, you both fucked up. Congrats, you're going to do it again." Nathan smiles wryly. "By the time she graduates college, you'll have fucked up a lot."

"And if we're lucky, she'll still be speaking to us." Matt sighs.

"You love her and she knows it," Nathan says. "Yeah, she will."

"Y'know, if you don't decide to go back into politics, there's always couples therapy." Matt says.

Nathan smirks and looks at him. "Oh sure, do as I say, not as I do, right?"

"Isn't that how it always works?" Matt deadpans.

"Probably," Nathan says. "Look, whatever's going on? Figure it out and fix it. You don't wanna be me." He snorts. "I don't want to be me."

Matt looks at him. "Maybe you should give it a shot anyway." He shrugs. "What's the worst that could happen?"

His own face scarred flashes into his mind.

"That," Nathan says flatly.

Matt leans across the space between them, plucking the photo from Nathan's pocket. "Try anyway," he says.

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