Fiction: To Sir, With Love

[kethni]

Name: To Sir, With Love

Pairing: Matt/Mohinder

Characters: Matt, Mohinder, Audrey, Elle, Gabriel, Luke

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Adult language, references to violence and sexual violence.

Word Count: Approximately 5850

Authors Note: For plotbunny_tiff’s prompt: To Sir, With Love": Matt is the new teacher at a school infamous for its troubled students ("When they're too young for jail and juvvie's full, they get sent here."). Author's choice of cast and happy/sad ending.






The blonde woman keeps the fire escape door wedged open with the toe of her five-inch high, black, stiletto heeled shoe. Her legs are bare, revealing the tattoo on her ankle, and her tight black skirt stops a few inches above her knees. She takes a drag on her illicit cigarette and blows out a stream of smoke.

A couple of teenage boys strut over to the bottom of the stone steps and look up at her hopefully.

‘Hey Miss, lend us a cig?’ Luke calls.

Miss Hanson takes another deep drag on her cigarette and taps ash on to the ground. ‘You had three off me last week, you little wretch.’

The other boy, tall, lanky and with a lick of dark hair right across his face, shoves Luke in the shoulder.

‘Ask better,’ Gabriel insists.

‘Please Miss,’ Luke whines.

Miss Hanson rolls her eyes. ‘Campbell, if your butt buddy wants a cigarette he can go rob a convenience store like usual.’

‘Bitch,’ Gabriel mutters.

Miss Hanson smiles and holds up her middle finger. ‘Bite me, butt munch.’

Steel-tipped shoes tap on the paving as Mr Petrelli marches across the yard.

Miss Hanson shoves her cigarette behind her back as he makes a show of waving away smoke.

‘Is there some reason why you’re congregating in the yard? Mr Campbell? Mr Grey?’

Gabriel rolls his eyes and saunters off with Luke having to skip along to keep up.

‘Do you ever worry that we’re failing those boys?’ Mr Petrelli asks, shaking his head.

‘No,’ Miss Hanson snorts.

‘Oh?’ Mr Petrelli asks, turning to her. ‘You don’t think we’re failing them?’

‘I don’t worry about it.’

Mr Petrelli raises an eyebrow. ‘It’s traditional to at least pretend you give a damn.’ He turns away. ‘Your cigarette is about to burn your hand.’

‘I thought it was traditional to at least pretend I wasn’t smoking,’ she says, bringing the cigarette up, tapping off the ash, and taking a deep draw.

‘Where would be without our traditions, Miss Hanson?’ Mr Petrelli muses. ‘Our new teacher starts today. If you could avoid telling this one to keep a quart of Scotch in his desk drawer I’d be grateful.’

‘Lamb to the slaughter,’ she warns, stubbing her cigarette out on the wall. ‘Poor bastard.’



Mohinder leans back against the wall and tucks his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His hair is too long, just about collar length, and a carefully ordered riot of lush curls. The curls lap around the open collar of his white shirt with it loosely hanging tie. The top couple of shirt buttons are undone, just enough to hint at his chest, but his drainpipe trousers are tight. He looks good and he knows it. He knows the other students know it. Hell, even the teachers know it.

He has his little coterie of admirers gathered round him. He doesn’t have to hold court. He lets Gabriel and Flint argue, and hold forth as they fight for his attention. He’s seen it all before. He’s been won and lost before. It’s all so boring. What he needs is a new challenge. Someone new to impress and fall at his feet.

That’s when he sees the new teacher walking up to the faculty entrance. Must just be out of training, he’s hardly older then Mohinder is. He’s got the wrong sort of walk. He doesn’t stride, he shuffles like he’s trying not to be seen, and he’s fat. Almost too easy.



Matt has an armful of files as Mr Petrelli propels him into the staff room.

‘Here we have my wife, Angela, the deputy head. Angela is our head of English. Sandra Bennet, Home Ec, Audrey Hanson Chemistry, Noah Bennet PE... I suppose you’ll meet everyone else as you go along.’

‘Hi,’ Matt says, transferring his files to one arm so he shakes the proffered hands.

‘Someone point Matt at his classroom,’ Arthur Petrelli says, waving an arm as he leaves.

‘What the fuck did you do to get sent here?’ Miss Hanson asks.

‘Just lucky I guess,’ Matt says, sitting down next to her.

‘I didn’t say you could sit there,’ she says, narrowing her eyes.

‘You engaged me in conversation. You don’t want me to sit near you then don’t catch my eye and definitely don’t talk to me,’ he says dumping his files on the table.

‘Hope you got good life insurance,’ she says grudgingly. ‘This isn’t a finishing school. When they're too young for jail and juvie's full, they get sent here. We’ve got dealers, addicts, thieves, and worse.’

‘Don’t all schools nowadays?’ Matt asks.

‘Other schools have kids smoking in the toilets. We have them shooting up.’

‘As long as they go in the toilets to do it.’



The bell rings but the senior class doesn’t move. They’re not about to run inside for some teacher. Let alone one they don’t even know. But then Mohinder remembers the fun he’s going to have with this one, and decides it’ll be easier if the man isn’t pissy when they first meet. Not that it’ll be difficult. Mohinder’s pretty sure he knows the type. He’ll be glad of a friendly face on his first day, especially with the sort of welcome he’ll be getting here. And Mohinder can be friendly. He can be very friendly.

So the new teacher isn’t pacing about the classroom when they saunter in. He’s not standing tapping his watch either. Instead, he’s sat down with his feet propped on the desk.

Something about the way the new teacher’s shirt is hanging immediately bothers Mohinder. As if it’s too heavy or as if Mr Fat Teacher has something jutting out oddly. Is he wearing a stab vest under there? What kind of a guy is this?

‘What you staring at, lardy?’ Gabriel sniggers at him.

‘Good morning,’ he says, getting up and offering Gabriel his hand. ‘I’m Mr Parkman, what’s your name?’

‘Gabriel,’ he sniggers at the other teenagers. He takes Matt’s hand. ‘We gonna dance now, Sir?’

‘Oh, Mr Grey? Pleasure to meet you, Mr Grey,’ Matt says, wrapping both hands around Gabriel’s and pumping it up and down. Pumping it up and down and squeezing. ‘This is my first assignment,’ he says in the same cheery voice as Gabriel’s face drains of colour. ‘I hope we’ll all be great friends.’

Mohinder starts to smile when he notices Gabriel is gritting his teeth. The idiot thinks he can win. Gabriel is the tallest boy in school, taller even than the new teacher, but he’s skinny. The new teacher’s hands are like shovels and his forearms are like slabs of muscle.

Everyone else has gone quiet, just watching Mr Parkman smiling so cheerfully as Gabriel turns white.

‘Ow!’ Gabriel shrieks suddenly, abandoning pretence at machismo.

‘Oh damn, did I hurt you Gabriel?’ Mr Parkman says solicitously. ‘I’m terribly sorry. Well come in everyone, take a seat. No, sit at the front Mr Grey, now we’re such good friends. Now, everyone, my name is Mr Parkman. Each of you in turn tell me your name.’

Mohinder sits right at the back in the corner opposite the door so that he can see everything that’s happening. Gabriel’s an idiot, he knew that, idiot enough to try to outface this new teacher. Too early to tell if he’s just a brainless bully or if he’s got something more about himself. Neither is a problem, really. Mohinder’s not particularly tall or strong but he doesn’t have to be. He’s got a nose for vulnerability and Parkman stinks of it. Friend, lover, something else. There’s something that he needs and Mohinder’s good at finding out what it is. He wouldn’t have half the class fighting for his attention if they didn’t think he could give them what they needed.

The rest of the class settle into a sullen silence, waiting to see what’ll happen next. He has their attention at the moment because they don’t know how to peg him. Will he make a sincere speech? Will he tell them they’re going to fail so he’s not going to waste his time teaching them?

Instead, he turns around and writes on the board in large clear letters:

“Giz munee or yoo wil git shooted.”

A babble of confused whispers breaks out.

Elle Bishop blows out her gum until it bursts. ‘Teach, whatever is you’re drinking, can I have some?’

Matt walks over to his desk and holds up a dog-eared textbook. ‘This is the teacher’s guide. Specifically it’s the teacher’s guide that I studied through my training. One of the things it talks about a lot is using examples that will relate to students’ lives. One of the things English teachers love to use as examples with students your age are application forms.’ Matt drops the book. ‘Anyone here have any intention of getting a job?’

Silence.

‘Okay, so instead we’re going to be a bit more realistic. The reason we study English, besides keeping creepy English teachers off the streets, is to ensure that you can be understood. There are three kinds of English. Friendspeak, which is the way you talk to your friends, conversational English which is for when you want to talk to teachers or your parents, and formal English.’ Matt hitches up his pants. ‘That’s for when you’re addressing the judge on what a model prisoner you are and why you should get parole, please.’

There’s a smattering of laughter around the room.

‘You want to be sure to pick the right English for the right situation. It stops you embarrassing yourself and, crucially, it means you get understood.’ Matt taps the board with a knuckle. ‘This terrible abuse of the English language was handed to a teller in a bank. By the time she’d worked out what the hell the guy wanted, the police had arrived. Good for the bank and bad for him.’

‘You want us to be better bank robbers?’ Mohinder asks innocently.

Matt looks at him, a hard, cool, stare that Mohinder finds rather uncomfortable.

‘I want to give you the tools to at least have some choices in your lives. If that means you don’t get shot because the poor girl can’t work out what “munee” means then so much the better. By the end of the lesson you’ll at least be thinking about the way you write. Why don’t you come up, Mr Suresh, and rewrite this garbled message for maximum clarity.’

Mohinder pulls a face. ‘Mr Suresh is my dad.’

‘I insist you call me Mr Parkman. I insist you show me that amount of respect,’ Matt says evenly. ‘Therefore I will show you the same respect.’

Mohinder folds his arms. ‘Talking respectfully to someone isn’t the same as respecting them.’

‘That’s very true,’ Matt agrees. ‘But it’s the first step. Now, I’m sure you can write a nice clear message. It’s a very simple concept: the writer is threatening violence if the reader doesn’t give him money. How short and how clear can you make it?’

Mohinder gets up and ambles over to the board. He stares at it for a few minutes, and then writes below Matt’s message:

“I have a gun. I want all the money. Now.”

‘Excellent! Clear, concise, and correctly spelled,’ Matt says, nodding at Mohinder. ‘Spelling is important because it’s how we ensure that documents like money demands, kidnap notes, and dirty letters to singers are understood correctly.’

‘Yeah but Campbell can’t even read,’ Gabriel sniggers.

‘Shut up!’ Luke whines.

‘He can’t or you can’t?’ Matt asks raising his eyebrows. ‘Mr Suresh, you can sit down.’

‘Yeah Mohinder, teacher can’t perv at you if you’re standing too close,’ Flint growls.

‘Sir, are you queer?’ Gabriel laughs.

Matt walks over and leans on his desk. ‘Why, do you fancy me?’

‘Uh. No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah!’ Gabriel whines, reddening at the laughter around him. ‘I don’t.’

‘Good,’ Matt says, walking back to the front of the classroom. ‘Now...’

‘Why is it good?’ Mohinder yawns.

‘Don’t interrupt me Mr Suresh,’ Matt says calmly. ‘I’m not asking you to hold up your hand or anything like that. We both know you’re not a child. You don’t interrupt me and I won’t interrupt you. We got a deal?’

Mohinder licks his lips and then nods slowly. ‘Okay.’

Matt tucks his hands into his pockets. ‘What was your question?’

‘Why is it good that Gabriel’s not gay?’

‘Did he say that?’ Matt queries. ‘What do we think, did Gabriel say he wasn’t gay? Or did he say something else?’

‘Of course he’s fucking gay,’ Flint snorts.

‘Language, Mr Gordon,’ Matt says smoothly. ‘The issue we have here is again of clarity of communication. No matter how clear the words are, the message can be misheard or misunderstood. Mr Suresh, I didn’t say that it’s good that Gabriel is or isn’t gay. I said it’s good that he doesn’t have a crush me. I’m his teacher, so a crush would be a problem. Not to mention the fact that I’m well out of his league.’

Mohinder’s mouth quirks up into a smile. ‘So it’s my fault for misunderstanding your message?’

‘Your message wasn’t clear enough maybe,’ Luke offers.

Matt sits on the desk. ‘Let’s have a show of hands. Who thinks I wasn’t clear enough?’

A few hands go up.

‘Okay, now who thinks that Mr Suresh thought I made a homophobic comment because he thinks I’m the kind of person who would say that?’

A lot more hands go up.

‘Mr Suresh, what do you think?’ Matt asks.

Mohinder folds his arms. ‘Don’t know. Seems like there might be other reasons.’

‘There might,’ Matt agrees. ‘The problem we have here again is the message being affected by more than the words. Mr Suresh naturally makes certain assumptions about me based on the way I’m dressed, the way I speak, and the fact I’m a teacher.’

‘You going to teach us about prejudice?’ DL Hawkins asks heavily.

‘No,’ Matt says, leaning back and folding his arms. ‘This is an English class after all. My point is that when you are communicating in writing the same thing happens. People see your choice of words and the way you put those words together and they make assumptions. You can’t stop that happening so you have to take advantage of it as best you can.’ Matt brushes his fingers through his hair. ‘I know there’s no point in asking you to tell me if you have any problems reading or writing. I’m new to teaching so it might take a while for me to get that dumb.’ He starts walking around the room handing out sheets of paper. ‘So I’m afraid it’s test time. The winner gets a pack of smokes.’

‘That’s not fair!’ Gabriel protests.

‘Fair, Mr Grey? You of all people should know better than to expect fairness. The world favours the pretty and the smart. That’s why Mr Suresh is here and not in prison having been tried as an adult. Now there’s nothing you can do about being attractive or unattractive, but you don’t have to go through life ignorant. The winner will get smokes and anyone falling below forty percent will get extra tutoring. We all know that you have to turn up or get your asses hauled off into juvie.’

Elle folds her arms tightly. ‘What’s the point? We’re never going to use this stuff.’

‘Because, Miss Bishop, if you go through your lives ignorant, poor, and despised by everyone around you, then it should be because that was your choice. You shouldn’t be crippled by a poor education and no choices because someone looked at you and decided you just weren’t worth the effort. Do you think anyone has the right to say you’re not as good as anyone else?’

Elle blows out a bubble. ‘No. To hell with that.’

‘Exactly. Well? What are you all waiting for?’



‘I don’t smoke,’ Mohinder says sweetly as Matt throws him the box.

‘Good for you, it’s a filthy habit; class dismissed,’ Matt says shortly, turning his back to clean off the board.

‘What am I supposed to do with them?’ Mohinder persists, walking up to the front of the classroom.

Matt laughs to himself and doesn’t turn around. ‘Mr Suresh, I’m sure you’ve already thought of a dozen ways to turn those into some cold, hard cash.’

‘Seems like selling them would be kind of wrong somehow,’ Mohinder says, ‘what with cigarettes causing cancer and all.’

Matt finally turns around and looks at him. ‘You’re a pretty big fish here, aren’t you?’

Mohinder licks his lips. Things haven’t been going the way he planned since he sat down. Parkman isn’t reacting the way he should be. He’s more hostile to Mohinder then anyone else, when he should be putty in Mohinder’s hands. None of the other teachers are hostile to him, even Miss Hanson flirts with him.

‘I’m not sure what you mean, sir.’

‘You’re an attractive young man, Mr Suresh, and you know it. You’re also clever, but I’m not sure that you know that. I’ve read your file, Mr Suresh, and I know that you have a good brain. If you applied yourself and with the right references then you could get yourself a scholarship to a good school. In ten years time you could be back here laughing in all the teachers’ faces as you show off your Jaguar and your six-figure salary. But you won’t, because you’re lazy, cowardly, and short-sighted. You’re a big fish in a little pond here and you enjoy it, who wouldn’t? You’re too afraid to move out of your comfy little pond and grow.’

‘I’m not afraid of anything like that! I just don’t see the point, that’s all.’

Matt flicks Mohinder on the forehead, making him jump. ‘You know that you’re beautiful, Mr Suresh, and that’s your tragedy. This is you at your peak. Some people peak at twenty, at thirty, even at forty or older. But you Mr Suresh, you’ve peaked at seventeen. Every year you’ll grow a little less attractive, a little less charming, until you’re just another face in the crowd. Problem is that you rely on your looks for everything, don’t you?’

‘Always worked so far,’ Mohinder mutters.

‘But it won’t forever. You’ve got brains, Mr Suresh, and the more you use them the sharper they’ll get.’

‘I don’t know what you’re getting at.’

Matt steps closer. ‘You were all over the news, little boy. You seduced older men, robbed them blind, and then blackmailed them. That’s a nasty, dirty trick. It’s beneath you, Mr Suresh. You’ve no need to ruin yourself like that. But you’re lazy, and a coward, and when you leave school at the end of the year you’ll probably go right back to it like a dog to its vomit. If you do and you’re lucky, then it might be years before you get caught. If you’re unlucky then you’ll be caught right away. All the things you’ve heard about prison are true. Rape won’t even be the worst of it. The rape, the drugs, the boredom, the loss of every choice, all of those things will slowly grind out every speck of individuality and humanity. By the time you get out you’ll be nothing more than a piece of meat.’ Matt licks his lips. ‘If you’re truly unlucky then you’ll try your little trick on the wrong man. He’ll catch you, he’ll beat you, rape you, and sell you to his friends. He’ll lock you up in an attic or a basement, dose you on drugs, and feed you scraps while he burns you with cigarettes and cuts you for fun. You probably want to think I’m exaggerating, but deep down you know that I’m not.’ Matt takes a deep breath. ‘I am here, Mr Suresh, to teach you English. What I am trying to do is give you a better choice, because you don’t have to end up that way. You don’t deserve to end up that way. Do you understand me?’

Mohinder stares at him for a long time and then nods. ‘Yes, sir.’

Matt takes back the cigarettes and instead hands Mohinder a five-dollar bill.

‘You can hate me as much as you want,’ Matt says. ‘As long as you believe me.’



‘You’re very quiet,’ Chandra says suspiciously, as they sit down to dinner. ‘Are you in trouble again? Are you?’

‘No father, I’m not in trouble,’ Mohinder says.

‘What’s the problem then?’

Mohinder shrugs easily. ‘Nothing’s the problem. I’m just thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘Got a new English teacher.’

‘Another one?’ Chandra asks, rolling eyes. ‘I hope this one isn’t a drunk.’

Mohinder shakes his head and pokes at his food. ‘No, I don’t think so. He’s weird.’

‘Oh, wonderful.’



At the end of the month, Matt hangs up a sheet of paper by the board.

‘What’s that, Mr Parkman?’ Mohinder asks immediately.

‘Mr Petrelli, the great and glorious headmaster, has, in his infinite wisdom, decided to have me run a drama club. That’s the signup sheet.’

‘Why should we?’ Gabriel demands.

‘Don’t, see if I care. I get paid either way.’

Mohinder smiles and crosses his arms. ‘Come off it. You’ve always got a reason. Anything you want us to do, there’s always some angle on how it’ll benefit us.’

‘Always, Mr Suresh?’ Matt asks with a smile. ‘I’ve only been here a month. Can you be so sure?’

‘Pretty sure,’ Mohinder says calmly. ‘You’re kind of predictable.’

He is, too. Mohinder has discovered that he always takes the same route home, that he stops at the supermarket on Fridays and Tuesdays to buy milk, and that he spends every evening until nine sat in front of his window marking books. So far, Mohinder hasn’t seen a partner or spouse, he hasn’t seen Matt go out anywhere socially, and he hasn’t seen anyone visiting. He’s got to be as lonely and vulnerable as Mohinder first guessed, but he’s not acting it. Mohinder’s engaging with Matt every way he can, but Matt’s not responding in the ways he expects.

‘Am I?’ Matt asks, and grins in a way that makes Mohinder’s stomach lurch oddly. ‘Drama club, Mr Grey, will help youthink. It’ll help you empathise with others and, more usefully from your perspective; it will help you think on your feet. Come up front, please.’

Gabriel glances back at Mohinder, who nods. Mohinder is the one who asks the most questions now, the one who challenges the most, and the one who gets called up to the front most. Mohinder, who in every other class sits at the back and observes, is by far the most active member of this class.

‘Alright,’ Gabriel says, standing at the front of the class. ‘Now what.’

Matt scans the class. ‘Miss Bishop, would you like to assist?’

Elle smiles slyly. ‘Sure, Teach.’ She swaggers to the front of the class and adjusts her top.

‘Okay Gabriel,’ Matt says, sitting on the desk. ‘You’ve robbed a few stores, right? There’s no need to be shy.’

‘Sure,’ he smirks at the class. ‘It’s why I’m stuck here.’

‘Okay,’ Matt says smiling. ‘I think I’ve seen you making a little on the side outside too, haven’t I? A little weed, a few pills here and then, that kind of thing?’

Gabriel’s smirk falters slightly. ‘You can’t prove nothing.’

Matt holds up his hands. ‘Let’s pretend you do, okay? Now we’re going to imagine that Elle here is your supplier. You owe her money.’ Matt opens a drawer in his desk and takes out a water pistol. ‘Now whatever you do, do not admit you don’t have the money. You don’t have her money and you can’t get it, but you mustn’t say that. If you say you don’t have the money, then you lose.’

‘Okay,’ Gabriel snorts, rolling his eyes. ‘Elle’s my big, scary supplier.’

‘I can be scary!’ Elle protests.

‘Yeah, right,’ Gabriel laughs.

Matt takes Elle over to the other side of the room and hands her the water pistol. He talks to her quietly while frequently gesturing at Gabriel.

‘Okay,’ he says aloud, clapping his hands together. ‘Off you go. Remember Gabriel, you don’t have her money but you can’t tell her that.’

Elle wanders over to Gabriel, plays with her hair, and looks up at him.

‘So, um, you got my money?’

‘I’ll give it to you later.’

‘I want my money,’ she says firmly.

‘I told you, I’ll give it to you later.’

Elle’s smile drops and she steps forward. ‘I want my money.’

‘I told you...’

‘I want my money!’ she growls.

‘Look...’

‘Give me my money!’

Gabriel glances at Matt. ‘Look, I said...’

Elle shoves him in the chest. ‘Give me my fucking money!’

‘Later!’

‘Now!’ she screams. ‘Give me my fucking money! Give me my fucking money now! Money now! Money now!’

Gabriel backs up against the wall. ‘I’ll... I’ll... I’ll give it to you...’

‘Now fucker!’ Elle screams into his face. ‘Money, now!’

‘I don’t fucking have it you stupid...’

Elle swings up the water pistol and points it at his head. ‘BANG!’

Gabriel stares at the pistol. ‘What?’

‘You’re dead,’ Matt says mildly. ‘You told her that you didn’t have her money. You lost. She shot you.’

‘What?’ Gabriel mumbles, still staring at the pistol.

‘You were scared of me,’ Elle says, still breathing heavily as she lowers the water pistol. ‘Told you.’

‘Thank you Miss Bishop, that was very well done,’ Matt says, taking the water pistol. ‘Please sit down. Mr Grey, would you like to sit down?’

‘She shot me.’

‘I told you not to say you didn’t have the money,’ Matt says gently.

‘I didn’t know what else to say!’ Gabriel protests.

Matt shrugs easily. ‘Drama class, Mr Grey, you’ll find it helps with thinking on your feet.’



Elle signs the sign-up sheet with a flourish as she leaves the room. DL and Niki hesitate before both signing, along with Gabriel. Mohinder stays sat on his desk, swinging his legs as Matt clears up his things.

‘Can I help you, Mr Suresh?’ Matt asks, putting books into his bag.

‘Is the drama club going to be all people yelling at each other?’ Mohinder asks, climbing off his desk and wandering over.

‘Probably not but I guess we’ll find out,’ Matt says, looking up. ‘I’ve never done it before.’

Mohinder leans on the desk towards Matt. ‘Will it be fun?’

Matt straightens up. ‘As fun as you all choose to make it.’ He drums his fingers on the desk.

‘So, you got Gabriel but good,’ Mohinder says, heaving his bag up on his shoulder. ‘Are you doing that to everyone?’

‘I “got” him?’ Matt asks. ‘If anyone “got” him Elle did, and pretty well I’d say. That’s a young lady with a lot of anger.’

‘You scared the shit out of him about the drug thing. Just like you scared me about turning guys over,’ Mohinder says. ‘Don’t think he’s going to be selling drugs anymore.’

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘I’ll be pretty happy if he really thinks about it.’

‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Mohinder says. ‘Not turning guys over. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.’

Matt folds his arms. ‘Good. Was there something else that you wanted, Mr Suresh?’

‘Why’re you being like this?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like you don’t like me!’ Mohinder protests. ‘Everyone else likes me. All the other teachers like me.’

Matt lets out a breath. ‘Have all the other teachers arranged for you to have scholarship interviews?’

Mohinder shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘That’s not what I’m asking.’

‘What’s more important to you, that I like you, or that I help you?’

Mohinder reddens and looks away.

Matt rubs his face. ‘Mr Suresh, you’re very nearly a man.’

‘Even Mr Bennet likes me,’ Mohinder says quietly. ‘He’s straight but he likes me because I can make him laugh.’

‘Are you listening to me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re nearly a man and it’s far past the time you learnt that there are consequences to your actions,’ Matt says quietly but firmly. ‘You chose to prey upon the lonely and the vulnerable. Sad, foolish men who were so desperate for a little warmth and a little affection that they ignored the law, ignored good sense, and believed you. They wanted to believe you.’ Matt sighs and shrugs. ‘Before I met you I would’ve guessed you were as much a victim as they were. But you’re no victim, Mr Suresh, except perhaps of your own ego.’ Matt finishes packing his books away. ‘So you want to know why I don’t like you. I can’t trust you. You’re not trustworthy. I hope that you never find out how desperate loneliness can make you, Mr Suresh. I hope nobody ever betrays you the way you betrayed those stupid, foolish men who loved you and who hoped you felt the same.’ Matt walks towards the door. ‘You’re going to be late for your next class.’



‘Mohinder! Wakey, wakey!’ Bennet yells, and hurls the ball at him.

Mohinder jumps, catching the ball by instinct. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘You’re up, come on,’ Bennet insists. ‘Get your head in the game.’



‘Parkman, whatever it is you keep doing in your class I’d appreciate if you’d stop,’ Bennet says, grabbing a coffee.

Matt looks up from the book he’s reading. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s getting so half the class turn up with their heads in the damn clouds! When I ask them what the problem is they say that they’re “thinking,” even Gabriel Grey and Elle Bishop!’

Matt rolls his eyes. ‘Well god forbid the students think.’

‘Not in my damn gym class, okay?’

Matt waves a hand idly. ‘Fine, whatever.’ He catches Miss Hanson’s eye. ‘Audrey, can I borrow you?’

‘What’s the dish?’ she asks, sitting down at the table next to him.

‘I uh...’ Matt looks around and lowers his voice. ‘I need a favour. When I have the seniors you have a free period right? Do you think you can drop in right at the end?’

‘What for?’

Matt blows out his cheeks. ‘Because Mohinder Suresh keeps waiting around after class finishes to talk to me.’

Miss Hanson looks at him. ‘You think he’s going to accuse you of trying it on?’

‘I don’t know. He got pretty upset today, wanted to know why I don’t like him.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘Figures he’d set at his cap at someone completely uninterested. You aren’t interested, right?’

‘I’m attracted, sure,’ Matt admits. ‘But I don’t care how good looking he is, that kind of history is bad enough without him being a student. I’m not going to prison for the sake of getting laid!’

‘Didn’t know you were gay,’ she says stiffly.

‘I haven’t made it a secret.’

She takes a sip of her coffee. ‘Sure I’ll protect you from him.’

‘Thank you.’



Only a few weeks before the end of the school year, and the weather is unseasonably warm. Matt has his sleeves rolled up as he walks around the classroom conducting the class like an orchestra.

‘Mr Parkman, what kind of tattoo is that?’ Gabriel asks.

‘This?’ Matt holds up his arm and grins. ‘This is a prison tattoo, Mr Grey! It shows I was Joey McShane’s bitch!’

The class laugh, except for Mohinder, and Gabriel rolls his eyes.



For once Miss Hanson doesn’t arrive at the end of class and just as Mohinder is preparing to skulk about the room, Matt calls to him.

‘Mr Suresh, do you have a moment?’

‘Sure.’

‘You’ve been very quiet,’ Matt says, leaning back against the wall. ‘Is there any point in me asking if everything is okay with you?’

Mohinder shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘Been thinking, Sir,’ he mutters.

‘You’ve been quiet for a fair few weeks now.’

‘Had a lot to think about.’

Matt watches Mohinder’s face closely. ‘Okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to talk to me. I understand you’re probably not comfortable doing that. I’ve been pretty rough on you. But I’m rough on you because I think you have a lot of potential.’

‘I want to talk to you!’ Mohinder says quickly. ‘You’re the one who always has Miss Hanson in here when I want to talk to you.’

Matt smiles and shrugs. ‘Well here we are.’

Mohinder rubs the back of his neck. ‘That tattoo. You weren’t kidding about it being prison tattoo were you?’

Matt folds his arms. ‘No, I wasn’t kidding. Although I was on remand not convicted. Fortunately for me the police had a little snafu in their chain of evidence and the case was thrown out.’

‘What did you do?’

Matt smiles and shrugs. ‘I tried to rob a bank but my note was so badly written the teller had no idea what I was trying to achieve. Happily, while some people find God in prison, I found education. Since I wasn’t convicted, and didn’t even go to trial, it doesn’t mar my record.’

‘Is it a secret?’ Mohinder asks hopefully.

Matt laughs lightly. ‘You don’t give up do you?’

‘Sorry.’

‘It can be a secret if you want,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘Would it make you feel special?’

‘Don’t make fun of me,’ Mohinder asks softly.

‘I’m sorry,’ Matt says, briefly touching Mohinder’s arm. ‘I wasn’t making fun of you.’

Mohinder shrugs. ‘This is my lesson is it? Find out what it’s like to want someone just to look at me, just to say my name, and to be treated like I’m nothing?’

‘That was never my intention, Mr Suresh.’

‘My name’s Mohinder!’ he yells. ‘Please! Please just once call me Mohinder.’

Matt nods. ‘You have me all wrong, Mohinder; I’m not punishing you, I’m protecting myself. You’re underage and I’m your teacher. You have the kind of history to make any man cautious.’

‘I like you,’ Mohinder says softly. ‘I’m not trying to trick you!’

Matt leans on the desk. ‘Mohinder, I like you. But I’m your teacher. Don’t even think of saying you’ll leave school, I can see that on your face, we have worked too hard getting your scholarship for you to risk it.’

Mohinder shuffles his feet. ‘When I graduate then?’

‘If you’re still interested.’ Matt stands up. ‘I am a teacher though. I have little or no money. I don’t have a very impressive house, as you know.’

Mohinder pales. ‘Huh?’

‘I’m not blind. I do notice someone following me home and then sitting outside my house for hours,’ Matt says mildly.

‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘I know that,’ Matt agrees. ‘If you had then we’d have had a very different conversation.’

‘I wasn’t planning on robbing you anyway,’ Mohinder says airily. ‘Everyone knows teachers haven’t got anything worth stealing.’

‘Push off,’ Matt says with a smile. ‘You’re going to be late.’

‘When I graduate though?’ Mohinder presses.

‘When you graduate,’ Matt agrees.

Mohinder gives a bright, wide grin and bounds from the room.

‘I think I might regret that,’ Matt mutters. He walks out into the hallway and watches Mohinder happily bouncing down the corridor. ‘But maybe not.’

The End

Comments

[kojonoyuri.livejournal.com]

Awwww, this is so sweet. I love this movie and its really cool seeing it adapted to Heroes!

Great job!

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I had a lot of fun with it :D

Thanks for reading and commenting <333

[dragon6593.livejournal.com]

I was fan of To sir with Love myself that and Stand by Me with Morgan Freeman.

The way Matt spoke of prison I thought that he was maybe that he had been in prison but as a former Corrections Officer who got tired of seeing young guys who had thrown away their lives and decided to try and catch them before they got to that point. That is until he flashed the tattoo.

Excelllent work.

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I'm really sorry for the late reply. I was having terrible internet problems yesterday :(

Thanks so much :D I'm really pleased that you enjoyed it. I wanted to hint that Matt had personal experience of prison hopefully without it being painfully obvious he'd been in prison himself.

<333

[dragon6593.livejournal.com]

I've been having similar problems with my e-mail service. I've been checking it everyday and it just would not load. But then yesterday wham a tidal wave of messages came through. So I just got the e-mail you sent on July 31! If you're still having problems you may not have gotten it.

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I *just* got it although I wasn't sure if it was the entire email or not. Modern technology, pah!

[stjoan4eva.livejournal.com]

(I just rewatched this movie last night, funny enough.)

You've truly risen above and beyond anything I was expecting with this story. I went back to read it twice before I could comment, because I wanted to give the review it deserved instead of wildly flailing at you in incomprehensible English.

Your casting choices were spot on. Matt's teaching style reminded me of Sir's, but there was more grit there. I'm not explaining it well,but there was a stiff dignity combined with street smarts that made for an absolutely winning combination.

The line from the movie sums it up perfectly: "It's like you're one of us, 'cept you ain't...I mean, you're not."

Mohinder, sweet lord, the way you portrayed him was fantastic. Even though he was a teen, there were still glimpses of the headstrong, sulky, sexy maker of terrible choices we see in the show.

This is my favorite fic out of anything you've written for the whole Matt-a-thon, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. It is definitely getting mem'd.

[plotbunny-tiff.livejournal.com]

This was me btw, my fault! *headdesk*

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Your secret identity is revealed Batman! :D Thanks for the fantastic prompt!

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much, I'm so pleased you enjoyed it :D I loved the prompt and had lots of fun writing it.

I wanted to stay faithful to the spirit of the original while still keeping things modern day. The teacher reaching troubled students has been done lots of times which is one of the reasons I included Mohinder falling for Matt, to have a bit of a different slant.

Mohinder was great fun to write :D He's so used to using looks and charm to get what he wants that it completely throws him when it doesn't work.

Thanks so much! I'm so pleased that you enjoyed it :D

Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone….

[leadaisy.livejournal.com]

Um, woman, you should be a teacher! LOVED Matt’s voice in this fic. The way you wrote him teaching his students with respect and the way he handled Mohinder’s flirty nature was very admirable. You did a awesome job on this!

This is one of my favorite movies and I would have never thought of this as a prompt, let alone putting Matt as the teacher. Awesome idea plotbunny_tiff :D

Loved it! <33333

Re: Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone….

[kethni.livejournal.com]

LOL! I think it's probably a lot easier writing about it than doing it :D

I wanted Matt to have empathy for the students and accept them as they are rather then either view them as completely evil or have some rose-tinted view of them as harmless rogues. He WAS one of those kids once upon a time :)

It was an awesome prompt :D

Thanks so much honey! <333

[boudecia7.livejournal.com]

I love how you used the characters in this, Audrey is awesome in the first scene where she's dealing with Luke and Gabriel. And you know, even though I don't think we ever saw her smoke on the show (eh, when does American TV show anyone but a villain smoking anymore? XD), I never have any trouble picturing her doing it. :P It's just so Audrey.

I haven't seen To Sir With Love, so I don't know if Matt's time in prison is part of the story or not, but I loved it here. It came as both a surprise and something that really made the rest of the fic click into place. His treatment of the boys in general and Mohinder in particular is both clever and gentle, and I love that while he's too smart to take advantage of Mohinder's youth in the end, he still leaves that door open for a possible relationship in the future after Mohinder grows up a bit.

Fantastic story! <333

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I'm pleased you liked it :)

Heh, no, smoking on TV is practically invisible now but, like swearing, I can easily see Audrey doing it.

No, in the film the teacher is an engineer who can't get a job in engineering. I didn't start off with him having been in prison but when I had him talking to Mohinder about what prison would be like I realised I needed a reason for him to know.

Yeah, I think that sometime down the line Mohinder will come to take up Matt on his promise. He'll be more mature but almost certainly still arrogant, flirtatious, and wanting Matt's approval :)

[amethystshade.livejournal.com]

Wow. This was rather brilliant. Thanks for writing this.

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it :D