Heroes fic: Coming and Going

[gaiafaye]

Title: Coming and Going
Series: Heroes
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence.
Summary: Molly wants to go back home, but Mohinder is set on life in India.
A/N: Takes place after the end of the series.



Mira didn't like Molly very much, but that was okay. Molly didn't like Mira either.

Sure, Mira was polite, polite enough, but Molly caught plenty of cues that the woman didn't want her around. It took ages for Molly to even meet Mira while living with Grandma Suresh. Sometimes Molly heard Grandma on the phone arranging visits for tea and catching up, but the get-togethers always managed to happen when Molly was at school or with friends.

She didn't think much about it until Mohinder came back from America after the government hunt ended. Mohinder said he'd been captured too because of his research, and Molly was happy he managed to stay safe in the midst of people with powers and people with guns. Mohinder also sat down with her and explained that Sylar hadn't died in a fire months before. The Boogeyman had managed to escape, gotten regeneration, helped the government capture specials, and even tried to take the place of the President. But in the end, Mohinder's friend, Peter, had stopped him, and Mohinder himself had watched Sylar's body burn away.

It seemed like Molly's problems were over. Sylar was dead, and Mohinder finally resumed being more than a phone call here and there. Obviously, now that it was safe, she and Mohinder would return to the United States, in time to enroll her in school before the start of the term. That Bennet guy was starting a new, better Company with the government, and Mohinder would work there.

Instead, Mohinder left Molly with his mother and moved in with Mira. He worked as a tutor while Mira pulled strings to get him a job at her research lab. When Molly asked Mohinder why they didn't move back to New York, he got agitated. Didn't she have friends here? Did she really want to uproot herself again? She liked living with his mother, didn't she? And in the fight that followed, she found out that Mohinder didn't want to go back. He didn't want to work for the new Company. He didn't want to get involved in more trouble.

That made Molly feel great. It was only through trouble that Mohinder even met her, but if he wanted to avoid his American problems he could just send her back alone. Mohinder said that wasn't what he meant at all, but Molly didn't want to hear it. At least staying with Grandma Suresh meant she could cry away from him for a little while.

He apologized the next day and assured her that he did love her. He explained how complicated his visas were getting and how he didn't have the apartment anymore and how Bennet wasn't someone to be trusted. It was very thorough, but somehow it all sounded like excuses. Mohinder never seemed to have an issue with stumbling into trouble before. He was avoiding something else, but Molly couldn't figure out what.

That evening, Mohinder took her to his home so she could finally meet Mira. He didn't understand why they hadn't met already. When he'd sent Molly to India, he'd told Mira about her and had assumed she would check up on the displaced girl. He supposed now that he'd been too vague and that Mira had been too busy with her job. That made sense at first, but as Molly shook Mira's hand, she sensed differently from Mira's forced, close-lipped smile. While Mohinder finished making dinner, they both sat in the living room in near silence. Molly tried asking Mira about her job.

"I'm the lead researcher for a big genetics company here. But I'm sure Mohinder doesn't bother you with that kind of complicated talk."

Molly almost said no, she talked to Mohinder about genetics quite a bit even if she didn't understand it all yet, but Mira seemed to find the rug more interesting than conversation. Dinner did not endear them to each other any further. After that evening, as Mira had done with Mohinder's mother, Molly found herself searching for time with Mohinder when Mira wasn't around. Consequently, she didn't see him very often.

And just two months after Mohinder came back to India, Molly was at a loss when Mira showed up at Grandma's house to rant about how he left again. Molly alternated between anger that he went home without her and worry about what he was doing there. As Mira calmed enough to cry on Grandma's shoulder, she said she didn't know exactly why Mohinder had gone; he'd just said something about a discovery he'd made in his father's old files.

"It's another blind chase down the rabbit hole," Mira said, blowing her nose. "He didn't know anything was wrong; he just thought there might be. He could have just called his American friends."

"It's something he has in common with his father," Grandma said quietly. "To take action."

Mira said little else, but considering that Mira didn't think highly of Mohinder's dad's theories-- Molly was forbidden to reveal her power to the woman-- she was probably thinking not very nice things.

After over two months with no word from him, Mohinder returned to Chennai as video of Claire Bennet cleanly surviving a dive off a 100-foot ferris wheel shot through the media. Molly imagined that realizing Chandra's theories were true only made Mira more upset at Mohinder, but whatever the argument they must have had, Mohinder continued to live with her.

Mohinder did make a change. He came to see Molly and held her hand as he said, "I told Mira about your power."

Molly was not enthusiastic that Mira had another reason to give her the side-eye.

"I thought she should know, because I want you to live with us."

Molly was taken aback, but she agreed immediately. She missed Mohinder too much for any show of pride; she longed to hear him hum at the stove and see his good posture give way to a slouch over his laptop. She did want to know, "Why are you asking me now?"

He tousled her hair and laughed when she wrinkled her nose. "All this coming and going, and it wasn't until... until recently that I realized I don't know how much time I'll have with you."

Mohinder didn't seem old enough to be saying things like that, but then he had brushed shoulders with death enough times.

Grandma Suresh was sorry to see Molly go, but she said it would be good for Mohinder to have Molly around, and she could always visit. She also said, with a sly smile, that it was about time Mohinder started a family of his own.

Molly thought about the inevitable marriage one afternoon as she sat with her laptop in the sitting room. Mohinder and Mira sat together on the couch across from her, Mohinder reading the newspaper while sipping tea and Mira looking through a scatter of notes on the coffee table. Molly had a hard time imagining them as husband and wife, maybe because they didn't remind her of her parents at all-- or maybe because she couldn't picture Mira as a mom. Mohinder made time for Molly, but all Mira seemed to do was go to work and spend time with Mohinder while barely acknowledging Molly lived with them.

"It's impolite to stare," Mira suddenly said, hardly glancing up.

Before Molly could fake an apology, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" she said, hurrying to the foyer. She pulled open the door and stared in surprise. "Oh," she said. "Hello."

She had never met Peter Petrelli, but she'd seen his picture plenty on TV and on the internet, and Mohinder had talked about him fairly often. Peter smiled warmly, and she couldn't help but smile back. "You're Molly, right?" he said. "I'm--"

"Peter, I know," she interrupted. She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. "You wanna see Mohinder?"

"Yes, thank you," Peter replied, walking inside. "I hope this isn't a bad time."

Molly smirked, eager to see how Mira would react to this. She didn't even care why Peter was in India. "I'll tell him you're here!" she said, trotting back to the sitting room.

As expected, Mira looked less than thrilled at Molly's announcement, but Molly was confused to see that Mohinder didn't look much happier. She followed him back to the front door and noticed that Peter waited nervously, his hands in his pockets and his gaze on the floor.

Mohinder folded his arms against his chest and pressed his lips together in an unamused line. "I don't get the courtesy of a phone call?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd let me come," Peter said uneasily.

"Always easier to act first and apologize later?"

"I just want to talk. Ten minutes."

Mohinder tapped his fingers against his arm. "Alright. Come sit down."

Nothing in Mira's eyes supported her smile when Mohinder introduced her to Peter, and she moved closer to Mohinder when he took his seat. Molly sat on Mohinder's other side as Peter perched on the edge of the chair she'd been using.

"This is a gorgeous house," Peter said.

"Peter," Mohinder warned.

Peter sighed and skipped small talk. "Okay, look," he began. "I know Bennet already called you about this, but--"

Mohinder huffed. "You came all the way here to change my mind?"

"I know you've got some personal objections, but you really don't see the benefits of coming back to the States for your work?"

Go back to America? Molly's stomach fluttered at the thought, but Mohinder just looked irritated.

"I mean, you're the expert on the subject," Peter said, "on specials. You're in high demand. I know some research didn't turn out so well, but they're willing to forgive anything so long as it means the best."

"And what exactly does Mohinder need to be forgiven for?" Mira scoffed.

Peter glanced at her, and Mohinder's shoulders tensed. Instantly, Molly realized there was something about Mohinder that she and Mira weren't supposed to know. Mira showed no sign of noticing anything off; she was too busy trying to rush Peter out of the house with hostility.

"Nothing," Peter said. "I'm just emphasizing how much the President wants the best of the best."

"Well, by all means, Mohinder should up and abandon his life here once again," Mira replied.

"Well, it is his choice."

Mira glared, but Mohinder spoke up. "Honestly, Peter, life in America brought a lot of strife."

"And it brought a lot of good." Peter shot Molly a smile, and she returned it.

"And a lot of instability with it," Mohinder shot back. "I know you're busy these days, but some of us feel a need to settle, to have some peace."

"You think that will happen with specials exposed?" Peter asked. "Tell me people haven't been banging on your door about your father's theories."

"I'm moving on to other fields of research. Interest in me will fade in time."

"Are you kidding? You're just going to abandon your work?"

"My father's work."

"Yeah, there's nothing of you in it at all."

"Just a boy chasing his dead father," Mohinder said coldly. Molly wrinkled her nose. He sounded like Mira.

"Mohinder--"

"I want to move on, Peter. I'm sorry you don't like it."

Something moved behind Peter on the deck. Molly peered around him.

"I need to find aspirations of my own and get away from my father's shadow."

Molly curled her fingers into Mohinder's sleeve. "Mohinder."

"His expectations have dictated my life, and I'm done."

"Mohinder," she said again, louder.

He sighed. "Molly, it's rude to--"

"Outside," she said shakily.

Peter turned around when Mohinder finally looked past him to the sliding glass doors. A man stood beneath the shade of a palm tree and looked in at them with an unreadable expression. Tall and pale, with dark hair and darker eyes, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, as if he were a mere person. The Boogeyman.

"What is this?" Mohinder snapped at Peter.

Peter looked a mix of surprised and irritated. "I'm sorry, I told him--"

Mira got up and yanked open the door. "Is this some sort of American thing?" she snipped. "Lurking on someone's property like a vulture?"

Sylar shot her a look and came in. Molly pressed to Mohinder's side, telling herself that she would be okay. Sylar wasn't supposed to be dangerous anymore. Micah told her online that Sylar worked for the new Company back home now. He said that Sylar had changed, that he'd been poking around the Company's files and couldn't find anything wrong for the past few months. Molly didn't know if she could accept that, but she believed she could deal with it so long as she never had to see her parents' killer again. But no, she couldn't even have that.

Molly gave in to her thundering heart and grabbed Mohinder's hand. Mohinder squeezed back, as tightly as the day he had to tell her the burning body he'd seen with his own eyes had been a lie.

"I don't like being left behind," Sylar said to Peter.

"Oh, well then!" Peter said helplessly.

"Are all Americans this inconsiderate?" Mira asked.

Sylar's gaze slid to her, and while he did not look like he wanted to decapitate her, Molly could see the immediate dislike. "We know a few things about hospitality," he retorted.

Mira sputtered, failing at a sharp reply-- but Mohinder burst to his feet and into Sylar's space. His hands slammed into Sylar's chest, knocking the pale man several feet back. "Get out of my house!" Mohinder exploded as Sylar hit the wall.

Mira stared in shock; of course, Molly figured, it was the first time she'd seen Mohinder so strongly reject a part of his life in the United States. Mira didn't know enough not to be shocked.

"Gabriel, wait outside for me," Peter said tersely.

Sylar kept his head bowed, but his eyes locked with Mohinder's. He pushed off the wall and walked quietly across the room to the foyer. After she heard the front door shut, Molly finally noticed an impression where he'd collided with the painted plaster.

"I'm so sorry," Peter tried.

"I am going upstairs," Mira said coolly, but Molly could tell she was unnerved by the wrinkle between her brows and how her hands clenched. Still, even when retreating, Mira put on a good show. "You and your friend will be gone by the time I come back down." She shot Mohinder a stern look that suggested he had better make it happen.

Mohinder didn't look like he disagreed with her one bit, and when she left the room he hissed at Peter, "I cannot believe you."

"Mohinder," Peter said, "I told him--"

"Why is he even here?"

"He wanted to come."

"So what?!"

"He's not dangerous anymore. There wasn't any threat in--"

"No," Mohinder snapped. "You knew this would upset me. You never would have brought him unless you were afraid to leave him unsupervised."

Peter looked away guiltily. "This... this way of life is still new to him. It helps if he has..."

"Boundaries, like a child?"

"Someone to support him," Peter said. "Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but this is working. And if he can't die, then we might as well have him working for the greater good."

"Can't die?" Mohinder repeated. "Split his head with an ax and we'll see how well he comes back from that."

"Mohinder, I know everyone thinks I'm crazy, but you weren't in his head with him. It was a day here, but in there, we had years to--"

"You need to leave."

"I promise you, he's not going to hurt anyone." But Molly felt like Peter avoided looking at her when he said it.

Mohinder closed his eyes. "Peter, there are things you don't..." He shook his head. "Please leave."

Peter was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "So you won't be coming back."

"I'm sorry you wasted your time."

Peter stood, disappointment plain on his face, but he extended his hand. "It was good seeing you again, Mohinder."

Mohinder shook his hand, but only briefly. "Give my regards to everyone back home."

Peter looked even less happy with the cold well-wishes, and he let himself out.

/ / / / / / / /

That night, Molly tried not to think about the Boogeyman, but the three years since her parents died could not soften the sharpness of her mother's screams and her father's single wail. She remembered the glimpse of her father at the table as Matt hurriedly carried her out of the house. Daddy had sat like an ice sculpture with the top of his head shaved off, water dripping from his ears and elbows and from the spoon suspended in front of his mouth.

It had happened when Molly was playing in the hidden closet, her special place. Her mother had opened the door, probably to ask what she wanted for breakfast, but stopped before she said a word, interrupted by the noise from the dining room. Mommy whispered, "Don't move," and shut the door. Then came the screams, the sharp thuds against the banister.

Rescued hours later, Molly didn't see her mother's pinned body. The officers draped a sheet over the railing, trying to hide what had happened, but they couldn't hide the blood that had dripped on the floor.

Micah knew all this. He said he didn't want Molly to forgive Sylar; he just wanted her to know that she was safe.

He didn't understand what it had been like in that closet. She'd been safe in the end, but as she huddled behind her table, beside the sickly yellow lamp light, she could feel the monster lurking outside the door. It could enter at any time; it could break the door down or simply slither through the crack beneath. It had already taken from her, and it could take more, it could take anything. It could have its reasons-- or just no reason not to.

How could she be safe from something like that? Especially now, when Sylar could survive anything. Any changes in his motivations were of his own will. Now it was easier for him to decide if he minded the few consequences that applied, to decide if he had reasons or no reason not to. And just hours ago he had been in the same room as her. He wanted to be there, and so it happened.

She pulled the sheets tightly around her body and closed her eyes to look for him. At least he was with Peter, who had stopped him before. At least Peter watched him, so someone would know when the Boogeyman changed his mind.

But Sylar wasn't with Peter.

He was right there. He was in the house. He was with Mohinder.

Molly laid stiffly, not sure what to do. Her power gave her impressions of people, actions and emotions, and Sylar and Mohinder didn't seem to be fighting. But the Boogeyman's presence could not be good. Thoughts flashed through her mind. She didn't have a phone in her room. There was one in Mira and Mohinder's room. The police would be no match for Sylar. She didn't have a number for Peter. Matt couldn't do anything so far away.

Molly slipped out of bed and went to her computer. She opened her messaging program, and Micah's handle showed up with the online users as usual, but his wired mind kept him perpetually online so that was no guarantee. She typed to him quickly, asking what to do. She waited a few minutes with no answer. What a time for Micah to actually pay attention in school.

She took a breath. She couldn't leave Mohinder to fend for himself.

She crept down the dark staircase, skipping the squeaky fifth step, and moved quietly through the foyer. Avoiding the light coming from the sitting room, she settled quietly by the doorway as the men argued. When she peeked, she saw Mohinder and Sylar standing between the chair and the glass doors. Mohinder had his back to her and Sylar faced him. Sylar was saying something, but Mohinder interrupted with a sharp gesture to the deck.

"Your sitter is probably looking for you," he said coldly.

"Just listen to me for two minutes!" Sylar snapped. "You have to come back. I can show you, Mohinder, how I've changed."

"I don't give a damn!" Mohinder hissed. "A load of words and hiding behind Peter doesn't change anything you've done."

"I help people now."

"Oh, well, allow me to express my profuse thanks! Sylar has discovered he is capable of kindness, the baseline of human behavior. I'm impressed."

Sylar looked away, then started again. "I-I want to apologize--"

Mohinder hit him then, hard, harder than Molly thought anyone could hit a person. Sylar's head snapped back and he stumbled, falling onto the floor in front the dent in the wall. Blood ran down the crumpled left side of his face, down his neck, but as she watched it was like his skin inflated, shifting back into place.

"You don't just get to fucking apologize!" Mohinder growled, but it sounded like he wanted to scream it, if only Mira and Molly weren't asleep upstairs.

Sylar wiped the blood off his face with his arm as he got to his feet. "I know I deserve that," he said.

Mohinder laughed. "You deserve far more than that."

"I can take it," Sylar said. "Whatever you want to do."

"I've already let you twist up who I am," Mohinder said, angrier. "I won't delight in pain just to make you feel like you're earning redemption."

Sylar smiled, his teeth streaked red. "See. You can come back from the dark, too."

Mohinder turned away. He closed his eyes and ran his left hand through his hair, clenching his fingers in the locks. His blood-smeared right hand hung at his side.

"I understand now," Sylar went on, coming closer. "Destiny led me to you, but I was blinded by the power I could have. But still, here you are to show me that I'm not lost forever. We're two of a kind."

"You're insane."

"Because I see how twisted my life became?"

"Because you throw that ethereal destiny excuse at everything!" Mohinder exclaimed as he whirled around. "Do you see what you're saying? That you should have made different choices not because the path you took was wrong, but because you could have gotten a better reward?"

"I don't think of you as a 'reward,' Mohinder, but you and the choices would have been hand-in-hand--"

"I don't want to hear this," Mohinder snapped. "I loathe you, so leave me out of your decisions."

Sylar let out a frustrated sound. "Do you remember in Montana--"

"That was one trip, years ago! And it was all built on deception, on your intent to kill more innocent people. Do you really think anything of meaning came out of that? Anything that could last this long, after--"

Sylar grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him.

Molly thought Mohinder would punch him again, across the room, but instead he froze, arms halfway raised like he didn't know what to do with them. Sylar's eyes were closed, but Molly couldn't see Mohinder's face.

Sylar pulled back only a little, still holding Mohinder's shoulders. He stared intently at Mohinder's face. "You can't even trust her," he said, so low Molly could barely hear him.

Mohinder pushed him away. "You're just the same," he said. "Just as manipulative." He turned away, his expression stone-like. "And as if you're far more trustworthy."

"I know the things you want to forget," Sylar said. "I can share them with you; I won't judge, because I've... I've gone deeper into the dark. You don't have to hide anything from me."

"Go home, Gabriel," Mohinder said, and Molly felt like his voice cut even her. "I'm sure Peter does enough to make you feel better about all those pesky murders."

Sylar was silent for several seconds, hands balled at his sides like he was doing his best not to snatch Mohinder away then and there. He could do it easily, Molly knew. His gaze remained steady, and she knew he was weighing his reasons, waited for him to decide no-reason-not-to. But he pivoted and stalked to the glass doors, pulling one side open and stepping onto the deck. He paused.

"You don't belong here and you know it," he said before he walked away, out of the light, easily enveloped in the dark.

Mohinder slid the door shut. He backed away, as if watching for Sylar to return, but the deck remained empty. His legs hit the back of the chair, and he leaned on it, bracing himself with his left hand. He lifted his right to his face, examining the blood on his knuckles. He stayed like that a long while, and Molly slinked back to bed.

/ / / / / / / /

Not speaking at dinner was nothing new. Not that Molly wasn't allowed to talk, but if she brought up anything related to home, Mira would jab at her food so hard it sounded like her fork would crack the plate.

Tonight Molly was afraid that if she spoke, she would give away what she'd seen. She'd avoided Mohinder all day, mostly by hiding in her room. She'd finally talked with Micah on her computer; he asked what Sylar had wanted, and Molly just told him that Sylar had repeated Peter's speech. Molly doubted Micah would know what to make of the scene between Mohinder and Sylar anymore than she did.

She knew Mohinder would never hurt her, but reconciling that with the kiss was impossible. How could Mohinder have let Sylar do that and not hit him again? What had happened in Montana? Mohinder had told her about the road trip and Sylar killing a woman with super hearing, but nothing else. And what was it that both Peter and Sylar had hinted at, some secret thing that Mohinder had done wrong with his research?

Again and again, she pushed down the conclusion that kept surfacing, because Mohinder had lost someone to Sylar, too. Mohinder knew the monster that lurked. It wasn't possible that anything in Montana or some mistake Mohinder had made could overshadow that. Any feelings must be one-sided, something Mohinder used to his advantage. Last night, he hadn't seem scared at all. Yes, Sylar could do anything, but if he kissed Mohinder, he wouldn't do just anything. But then, Mohinder hadn't pulled Sylar closer as if to trick him, and he hadn't pushed Sylar away.

He seemed unsure, confused. It reminded her of when he tried to explain why they wouldn't go back to America.

Molly glanced up from her plate, as if one surreptitious look could reveal Mohinder's thoughts. Mohinder stared blankly at Mira, who looked back at him with one raised eyebrow. Molly realized she wasn't the only one who hadn't been speaking.

"Are you feeling well?" Mira asked.

A moment passed, and Mohinder said, "I have an ability."

Molly felt her mouth fall open, realized it was full of food, and quickly swallowed it before letting it open again. Mohinder looked between her and Mira, waiting for their reactions.

"Really?" Molly said. Her stomach felt tight, like it would burst in pleasure, despite all her tumultuous thoughts. She smiled.

Mohinder smiled back, though his eyes seemed pained. She knew he was waiting for Mira to say something, but Mira just sat there.

"What can you do?" Molly asked.

"I'm very strong now, and agile."

Molly's eyes widened as she remembered the wall and how Sylar's face caved in. "Oh."

"M-Mohinder," Mira began, with a disbelieving laugh, "what are you talking about?"

He took a breath and looked at her evenly. "When I was in New York, I thought I would have a better advantage if I had powers myself, so I developed a serum. I used it." He held up his butter knife and curled it easily, like it was as flimsy as a twist-tie. He held the spiral up for Mira to see, and when she simply stared, he set it in the middle of the table.

Mira looked at the mangled knife and struggled to form words. "That... that is just... just completely irrespons..." And then she burst into loud, angry Tamil and slammed her utensils onto the table. Mohinder shouted back and they both stood up, exchanging words Molly half-understood until Mira threw up her hands and stalked out to the foyer, to the sitting room, still ranting. Mohinder followed her, and Molly decided it was wisest to stay behind.

She didn't have to listen anyway. Mira didn't like Mohinder bringing America home with him, like it was something he could just drop and forget. And here was something she could never ignore like Molly or get rid of like Chandra's files, something that was part of Mohinder's very body.

The front door opened and slammed shut. Molly waited at the table, and after a few minutes Mohinder came back. He sat in his chair, propped his elbows up on the table, and hid his face in his hands.

"Mohinder?" Molly said.

"Yes?" he replied.

"It's cool that you have a power."

Mohinder lifted his head and looked at her. "How would you like to go home?"

At that moment, she could see in the trepidation in his eyes that he had let Sylar kiss him. Betrayal curled in her gut; she'd thought he was oblivious to being pulled between her and Mira all this time. He'd actually been preoccupied with someone else, someone wrong, someone who should have never come between him and Molly. It was incomprehensible. What was she supposed to think about this man she trusted?

But how could she not trust him? This was still Mohinder, who had taken her in, sang her to sleep, rescued her from death more than once. And he still wanted to protect her; last night she'd seen him try so hard to beat the past back that it left blood smears on his fist.

But he wanted to give up now. He wanted to go back and face it: not just Sylar, but whatever he had done after sending Molly to India. She felt a sense of loss then, as she recognized that Mohinder was as human as anyone. He would make mistakes and show weakness. He couldn't protect her forever.

She felt the sudden urge to protect him instead. She could say no, try to block this path, because it only led to Sylar. She couldn't handle Sylar in her life and couldn't see him bringing any good to Mohinder. But then Sylar was persistent, regardless of how dangerous he was; she knew he would only reappear again and again.

And Mohinder was no good at avoiding danger, even if the consequences were coming right at him.

The inevitability hurt. As she nodded and covered Mohinder's hand with hers, she was already thinking about Matt and if he and Janice would take her in.

For now, though, she'd be strong as long as she could bear, until she was weak enough to let go.