Lazarus or Being Extraordinary
Title: Lazarus or Being Extraordinary
Author: Greens
Rating: PG
Words: 832
Characters: implied Mohinder/Peter. Mentions of Sylar
Summary: Mohinder had lost everything. Everything he worked for, everything he ever cared about.
Spoilers: 1x19.
Warnings: implied slash
Disclaimer: Heroes isn't mine. *pauses for loud gasp from audience* I know I know. It upsets me too.
Author's Note: Written for
revelininsanity for
heroes_holidays Spring Joyathon, who asked for slash with Peter and Mohinder and this little number is what I came up with:) It's not hard core slash, but the slash is definetely implied:) I've never written any Peter/Mohinder before. This was fun:) I hope you enjoy it.
Mohinder left the Petrelli home, heart torn in a thousand pieces. All Peter had tried to do was be a hero, fulfill his destiny. He had walked right into his own death. Mohinder supposed he could understand why Peter’s mother had sent him away. He had felt grief before. Not the loss of a child, but the loss of a loved one, the loss of a father. Mohinder knew the pain of loss. He understood that those wounds were hard to heal. Death was a definite ending, the period at the end of the proverbial sentence. At this point, there was no more.
Mohinder drove his cab around the city aimlessly. He couldn’t go back to the apartment. Sylar had only been temporarily dazed by the jolt of the impact. He could still be there, just waiting to finish what he had started. Mohinder wasn’t safe. Nobody was.
He picked up no fares, never once let the meter run, he only drove from block to block, hoping that the time he allowed to pass gave Sylar the opportunity to stir and leave the apartment. That as the sun went down, he would once again be safe to return home.
It was dark when Mohinder finally found the courage to go home. He took a deep breath as he turned the doorknob, swinging the door inward and stepping into the disaster area. The apartment was practically unsalvageable. Broken glass and smears of blood covered the floor in a think blanket. Some was his, some was Peter’s some had to have been Sylar’s.
Sylar. Mohinder tensed, every muscle in his body tightening. His head darted from left to right and his body did a complete 360. Was he really gone, the man he had put so much faith in, the man who he trusted with his father’s secrets. The man who Mohinder had come to learn was the murderer who had stolen his father’s life and Peter’s and who had tried to take Mohinder’s. He certainly wasn’t dead himself, but he was gone... for now.
Mohinder looked down at the broken pieces of computer and the torn map. He had lost everything. Everything he worked for, everything his father worked for. And now with Peter dead, everything he cared about. Sylar may have been gone, but he was still all over the apartment in a way that could never be erased.
There was a strange feeling looming in the air, different than before, and Mohinder’s breath caught in his throat. “Who’s there?” he said. Stupid question, he thought. As if an intruder, or even Sylar would warn him of an attack.
Slowly, from nothing, a figure began to materialize, taking human form. Peter stood before him now, hair slicked back and very much alive.
Mohinder was speechless, lips moving, but wordless. Was it even possible? “I saw you die.” Mohinder managed. “I carried you to my cab, I.... brought you to your mother. You.... you were dead.”
“The girl I saved in Texas, the cheerleader, Claire.” Peter explained slowly. “She saved me. She brought me back.”
A smile crept onto Mohinder’s face, widening. “This is extraordinary.” he managed, taking a step closer to him. “You’re able to rise from the dead. Completely invincible.....”
“Not completely,” Peter said softly. “If it hadn’t been for Claire.....”
“You’re alive.” Mohinder said again. “I watched you die, Peter and now you’re standing right in front of me.” He wanted to tell Peter that he wanted to study his DNA, learn everything he could about him and who he was, but instead, he found himself stepping closer, reaching out to touch the man who may have only been a figment of his imagination, a ghost.
Peter only met his hands, feeling Mohinder relax a bit at the confirmation.
“You saved me.” Mohinder continued. “I had been so fooled, so driven by wanting the man who killed my father to suffer that I lost control of everything. But you saved me.”
“I tried to be the hero once” Peter said. “I was just... in the right place at the wrong time for this one.”
“But you could have walked away from it all. True.... you didn’t know that it was Sylar but even still. You didn’t have to come inside and you didn’t have to look for me.”
Peter shook his head. “Then what would that have said about me?” he asked. “I would never leave you, Mohinder. When I walked through that door I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t about to just leave.”
“You may think that you weren’t trying to be a hero, Peter” he said, intimately. “But....” Mohinder was almost searching for the perfect words. “Do you remember when I first met you, in the back of my cab?” Mohinder paused. “You asked me about doing something extraordinary.”
Peter nodded. “The solar eclipse” he said. “I remember.”
Mohinder lifted his hand and rested it gently on the back of Peter’s neck, speaking with a soft smile. “You’ve done it.”
Author: Greens
Rating: PG
Words: 832
Characters: implied Mohinder/Peter. Mentions of Sylar
Summary: Mohinder had lost everything. Everything he worked for, everything he ever cared about.
Spoilers: 1x19.
Warnings: implied slash
Disclaimer: Heroes isn't mine. *pauses for loud gasp from audience* I know I know. It upsets me too.
Author's Note: Written for
revelininsanity for
heroes_holidays Spring Joyathon, who asked for slash with Peter and Mohinder and this little number is what I came up with:) It's not hard core slash, but the slash is definetely implied:) I've never written any Peter/Mohinder before. This was fun:) I hope you enjoy it.
Mohinder left the Petrelli home, heart torn in a thousand pieces. All Peter had tried to do was be a hero, fulfill his destiny. He had walked right into his own death. Mohinder supposed he could understand why Peter’s mother had sent him away. He had felt grief before. Not the loss of a child, but the loss of a loved one, the loss of a father. Mohinder knew the pain of loss. He understood that those wounds were hard to heal. Death was a definite ending, the period at the end of the proverbial sentence. At this point, there was no more.
Mohinder drove his cab around the city aimlessly. He couldn’t go back to the apartment. Sylar had only been temporarily dazed by the jolt of the impact. He could still be there, just waiting to finish what he had started. Mohinder wasn’t safe. Nobody was.
He picked up no fares, never once let the meter run, he only drove from block to block, hoping that the time he allowed to pass gave Sylar the opportunity to stir and leave the apartment. That as the sun went down, he would once again be safe to return home.
It was dark when Mohinder finally found the courage to go home. He took a deep breath as he turned the doorknob, swinging the door inward and stepping into the disaster area. The apartment was practically unsalvageable. Broken glass and smears of blood covered the floor in a think blanket. Some was his, some was Peter’s some had to have been Sylar’s.
Sylar. Mohinder tensed, every muscle in his body tightening. His head darted from left to right and his body did a complete 360. Was he really gone, the man he had put so much faith in, the man who he trusted with his father’s secrets. The man who Mohinder had come to learn was the murderer who had stolen his father’s life and Peter’s and who had tried to take Mohinder’s. He certainly wasn’t dead himself, but he was gone... for now.
Mohinder looked down at the broken pieces of computer and the torn map. He had lost everything. Everything he worked for, everything his father worked for. And now with Peter dead, everything he cared about. Sylar may have been gone, but he was still all over the apartment in a way that could never be erased.
There was a strange feeling looming in the air, different than before, and Mohinder’s breath caught in his throat. “Who’s there?” he said. Stupid question, he thought. As if an intruder, or even Sylar would warn him of an attack.
Slowly, from nothing, a figure began to materialize, taking human form. Peter stood before him now, hair slicked back and very much alive.
Mohinder was speechless, lips moving, but wordless. Was it even possible? “I saw you die.” Mohinder managed. “I carried you to my cab, I.... brought you to your mother. You.... you were dead.”
“The girl I saved in Texas, the cheerleader, Claire.” Peter explained slowly. “She saved me. She brought me back.”
A smile crept onto Mohinder’s face, widening. “This is extraordinary.” he managed, taking a step closer to him. “You’re able to rise from the dead. Completely invincible.....”
“Not completely,” Peter said softly. “If it hadn’t been for Claire.....”
“You’re alive.” Mohinder said again. “I watched you die, Peter and now you’re standing right in front of me.” He wanted to tell Peter that he wanted to study his DNA, learn everything he could about him and who he was, but instead, he found himself stepping closer, reaching out to touch the man who may have only been a figment of his imagination, a ghost.
Peter only met his hands, feeling Mohinder relax a bit at the confirmation.
“You saved me.” Mohinder continued. “I had been so fooled, so driven by wanting the man who killed my father to suffer that I lost control of everything. But you saved me.”
“I tried to be the hero once” Peter said. “I was just... in the right place at the wrong time for this one.”
“But you could have walked away from it all. True.... you didn’t know that it was Sylar but even still. You didn’t have to come inside and you didn’t have to look for me.”
Peter shook his head. “Then what would that have said about me?” he asked. “I would never leave you, Mohinder. When I walked through that door I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t about to just leave.”
“You may think that you weren’t trying to be a hero, Peter” he said, intimately. “But....” Mohinder was almost searching for the perfect words. “Do you remember when I first met you, in the back of my cab?” Mohinder paused. “You asked me about doing something extraordinary.”
Peter nodded. “The solar eclipse” he said. “I remember.”
Mohinder lifted his hand and rested it gently on the back of Peter’s neck, speaking with a soft smile. “You’ve done it.”