"It would have been ages before we even swept Colorado, and why would we think to check something so out of the way?" Sylar shook his head, imagining how easy it would have been for them to miss the pair entirely, if Mohinder hadn't been so obvious in his search for Claire. Subtlety had never really been the flashy geneticist's strong point.
"Thank you, Gretchen. You've been enormously helpful," he did his best to give her a reassuring smile. "And don't let student services assign you a new roommate, yet. We'll have Claire back to her classes, soon. If you hear from her, or her family, don't say anything. Peter and I are more than capable of handling this, but only if Doctor Suresh doesn't keep running."
"Got it," she said with a nod. "Her dad has only called a couple of times and he buys my story that she's busy. So it should be okay." Gretchen put her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, wondering if she'd just made a mistake. But no, not if they were going to bring Claire back. She kind of liked the little blond ball of pep.
Peter told her thank you again before he headed out with Sylar. This was almost becoming too easy, which had him waiting on pins and needles for something to go wrong. That always happened. "We've almost got him," he said to his broody brother. Sylar had that I'm-on-a-mission intense look on his face and it gave Peter the creeps.
~~
Back in Colorado, tucked away inside of a warm log cabin at the foot of a snowy mountain, Mohinder Suresh was completely unaware that he was being tracked. He found with great power and charm came the ability to get anything he wanted - it reminded him of a certain someone, actually. On a deep level he finally understood the allure of desiring the top. Of needing to be
( ... )
Claire couldn't help the need to writhe. She was a young woman now, with needs she didn't know how to express, and Mohinder certainly wasn't hard on the eyes... The pain was erotic, too, such intense sensation. She tried not to think of it like that, but if not, then this was just plain violence, and she didn't want to feel like the victim here either
( ... )
Mohinder exhaled through his nose and then swallowed quite a large mouthful of blood he'd been letting collect against his tongue, savoring the taste like one might do with a fine wine.
Another curse (or perk) of the disease was enhanced senses. He could smell, taste, see, and feel ten times stronger than before. Particularly useful was his sensitive hearing. Sylar may have been going out of his way to be silent, but he failed to stifle the ruffle of clothing when he moved his arm up and down to utilize his telekinesis.
And while Mohinder didn't know the intruders were two old acquaintances, he still launched into a mode of alert panic and felt the intense need to protect them
( ... )
Sylar mouthed, 'He heard us?' in disbelief, making a slightly put out face at Peter, before nodding his head in understanding of his brother's intentions. The Intuitive was supposed to be the one with the super hearing, ever since Bozeman, anyway
( ... )
Peter watched him go and then walked swiftly to the back door. He plastered himself there in a dark corner, eyes on a window so that he could watch and make sure Mohinder didn't fly out and land in the snowy yard
( ... )
The wind knocked out of him as he hit the banister, and his own hands closed quickly about the doctor's wrist, steadying himself within that grip. He felt the lingering instinctual panic of suffocation as his air-supply was cut off, and squeezed Mohinder's wrist that much tighter for it, but gradually fought through the evolutionarily dictated fear.
After a moment, unable to speak for lack of breath, he reached one deadly hand forward, toward Mohinder's face, a light in his amber eyes and a smirk on his bluing lips. His thumb brushed the tacky smear of blood along the sharp line of Mohinder's jaw, a tactile greeting, in lieu of the verbal sort.
Mohinder wasn't sure what he loathed more; the fact that Sylar had managed to find him so easily, or the fact that such a small gesture stirred up emotions he'd long since considered dead. Took you long enough, he wanted to say. Or perhaps, you didn't protect me from myself. That would have been a good one too. Both far too vulnerable, though.
In a bout of anger and panic, Mohinder gave a shove. One firm push followed by quite a loud crack and Sylar went backwards into a fifteen food drop to the downstairs level. Mohinder turned immediately and ran back to Claire, scooping her up into his arms. "Hold onto me, we're leaving."
Peter didn't have to catch Sylar - Sylar would have easily healed or caught himself. Though Peter's reflexes got the better of him and his hand went out, stopping Sylar mid-fall, righting him onto his feet. He heard a window breaking upstairs and then bolted out the front door after his brother. "Mohinder, stop!!"
This was a nice change, Sylar thought, as he sprinted after the doctor and his captive. For once, he didn't have to worry about breaking anyone! Never mind that Claire looked every inch the damsel in distress, being carried off by either a beast or a prince, as she was pursued by one of each sort not far behind. She was about as delicate as diamond these days, so Sylar had no qualms about what he did next.
Taking a few more running steps, he shot forward off the ground, leaving a divot in the earth and snow behind him and a violent puff of both in his wake. Barely above ground level, he was aloft, rocketing toward them both until he could plow hard into Mohinder, sending all three of them hurtling down into the snow.
Peter skidded to a stop when he got a face full of dirty snow. He coughed and waved his arms about, then grumbled about Sylar being an ass and continued his sprint forward.
Mohinder saw black. It was nighttime, not unusual, but this was cold blackness. Suddenly he was being pushed into snow and earth under the force of Sylar's power. Worst of all, it hurt. Poor Claire - buried beneath both of their bodies!
He started thrashing when he was able, trying to get out of the snow and get a hold on Sylar. Mohinder gripped what felt like the short hair atop Sylar's head and gave him a swift punch backed by super strength. Unfortunately he was outnumbered, and immediately felt the tug of Peter's telekinesis on his arms. "Let me go!!" he yelled, chest heaving.
"Stay. Down!" Sylar shoved with his own palm against Mohinder's chest, his own face now smeared with blood from a briefly broken nose. Claire was struggling to get out from under them, hands flailing to find her uncle, who was blessedly near by!
"Oh, my God! Peter! You found us!" She wasn't nearly as stunned by the fall as the other two. After jumping from seven-story high scaffolding more than a dozen times, and plenty of other nasty wrecks since, she wasn't so easily phased by a hard fall.
Sylar spread his telekinetic influence over the doctor like a blanket, fastening him to the ground like a butterfly under glass, though the man fought more like a whole hornets' nest. "Why such a hurry, Doctor? It's been so long. We've got so much catching up to do."
Peter helped Claire up once Sylar had Mohinder under control, hugging her to his frame. "We got lucky on some leads." He gave her a gentle squeeze and then watched Mohinder. This was the first time he'd seen someone close to him as a vampire. Suresh looked about the same, but his eyes were freaky and his slender body moved like an animal's.
Mohinder clenched his jaw tightly and narrowed his eyes at Sylar. "Let me up right now and perhaps I won't kill you," he offered. But he knew he was no match for Sylar's powers. Telekinesis and regeneration trumped speed and strength. Mohinder's regeneration was akin to that of a human's still, and he was starting to ache from the previous blow.
"It would only give you a few seconds' lead time if you did," Sylar smirked, brushing at his bloodied muzzle with the back of one wrist. He then made a counter offer. "Calm down, and maybe I'll let you up. But give me any reason to think you're still just like the rest of those animals out there... You've been MIA, but I'm sure you know what Peter and I've been up to since the world went insane."
"Yes. I've seen the news." He was curious as to why they hadn't killed him yet, actually. That'd been his first thought upon seeing Sylar and Peter. "Do it. Get rid of me. Millions want you to, I'm sure. They think if the source dies, the virus dies." But he knew better, because he'd been studying it from top to bottom, side to side, corner to corner.
He had no idea how to fix the mess he'd made. Perhaps death was a just punishment for killing so many with his ungodly experiment.
Mohinder closed his eyes, long lashes fanning out dark skin.
"We're not gonna kill you," Peter said, still holding Claire. "We're gonna take you back to New York so you can work on this with The Company."
The vampire tensed, and his eyes flew open. "What?! No!" The Company would turn him into some caged Frankenstein!!
"He's been working on it here," Claire explained, quickly, intent on diffusing the tense situation as quickly as she could. "He is different. Don't hurt him, please." She implored her uncle, then looked reluctantly over to the man whom she could scarce believe she shared any blood relationship. "Please
( ... )
Mohinder was surprised, and pleased, that Claire spoke out for him. Nobody had done that in a long time. He stared at her until Sylar tapped his forehead and then narrowed his eyes on a man he never thought he'd see again, unless in Hell. Well, technically this was Hell.
Was Mohinder about to admit he understood anything Sylar did? No. He wanted to defend himself and say he hadn't killed that many, but killing with his bare hands was no different than indirectly killing with the virus he'd created. The weight of it all was coming down on him, fast, making it difficult to breathe. Leave it to Sylar to still cause him vulnerability when he was so very powerful for once.
"I never meant for any of this to happen," he whispered, his gaze on Sylar's neck. Anywhere but his eyes. Damn those pretty auburn eyes. "I'm trying to fix it."
Peter didn't quite catch what he'd said, so he rubbed Claire's back for a minute before speaking up. "Can we go inside? Its cold."
"Thank you, Gretchen. You've been enormously helpful," he did his best to give her a reassuring smile. "And don't let student services assign you a new roommate, yet. We'll have Claire back to her classes, soon. If you hear from her, or her family, don't say anything. Peter and I are more than capable of handling this, but only if Doctor Suresh doesn't keep running."
Reply
Peter told her thank you again before he headed out with Sylar. This was almost becoming too easy, which had him waiting on pins and needles for something to go wrong. That always happened. "We've almost got him," he said to his broody brother. Sylar had that I'm-on-a-mission intense look on his face and it gave Peter the creeps.
~~
Back in Colorado, tucked away inside of a warm log cabin at the foot of a snowy mountain, Mohinder Suresh was completely unaware that he was being tracked. He found with great power and charm came the ability to get anything he wanted - it reminded him of a certain someone, actually. On a deep level he finally understood the allure of desiring the top. Of needing to be ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Another curse (or perk) of the disease was enhanced senses. He could smell, taste, see, and feel ten times stronger than before. Particularly useful was his sensitive hearing. Sylar may have been going out of his way to be silent, but he failed to stifle the ruffle of clothing when he moved his arm up and down to utilize his telekinesis.
And while Mohinder didn't know the intruders were two old acquaintances, he still launched into a mode of alert panic and felt the intense need to protect them ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
After a moment, unable to speak for lack of breath, he reached one deadly hand forward, toward Mohinder's face, a light in his amber eyes and a smirk on his bluing lips. His thumb brushed the tacky smear of blood along the sharp line of Mohinder's jaw, a tactile greeting, in lieu of the verbal sort.
Reply
In a bout of anger and panic, Mohinder gave a shove. One firm push followed by quite a loud crack and Sylar went backwards into a fifteen food drop to the downstairs level. Mohinder turned immediately and ran back to Claire, scooping her up into his arms. "Hold onto me, we're leaving."
Peter didn't have to catch Sylar - Sylar would have easily healed or caught himself. Though Peter's reflexes got the better of him and his hand went out, stopping Sylar mid-fall, righting him onto his feet. He heard a window breaking upstairs and then bolted out the front door after his brother. "Mohinder, stop!!"
Reply
Taking a few more running steps, he shot forward off the ground, leaving a divot in the earth and snow behind him and a violent puff of both in his wake. Barely above ground level, he was aloft, rocketing toward them both until he could plow hard into Mohinder, sending all three of them hurtling down into the snow.
Reply
Mohinder saw black. It was nighttime, not unusual, but this was cold blackness. Suddenly he was being pushed into snow and earth under the force of Sylar's power. Worst of all, it hurt. Poor Claire - buried beneath both of their bodies!
He started thrashing when he was able, trying to get out of the snow and get a hold on Sylar. Mohinder gripped what felt like the short hair atop Sylar's head and gave him a swift punch backed by super strength. Unfortunately he was outnumbered, and immediately felt the tug of Peter's telekinesis on his arms. "Let me go!!" he yelled, chest heaving.
Reply
"Oh, my God! Peter! You found us!" She wasn't nearly as stunned by the fall as the other two. After jumping from seven-story high scaffolding more than a dozen times, and plenty of other nasty wrecks since, she wasn't so easily phased by a hard fall.
Sylar spread his telekinetic influence over the doctor like a blanket, fastening him to the ground like a butterfly under glass, though the man fought more like a whole hornets' nest. "Why such a hurry, Doctor? It's been so long. We've got so much catching up to do."
Reply
Mohinder clenched his jaw tightly and narrowed his eyes at Sylar. "Let me up right now and perhaps I won't kill you," he offered. But he knew he was no match for Sylar's powers. Telekinesis and regeneration trumped speed and strength. Mohinder's regeneration was akin to that of a human's still, and he was starting to ache from the previous blow.
Reply
Reply
He had no idea how to fix the mess he'd made. Perhaps death was a just punishment for killing so many with his ungodly experiment.
Mohinder closed his eyes, long lashes fanning out dark skin.
"We're not gonna kill you," Peter said, still holding Claire. "We're gonna take you back to New York so you can work on this with The Company."
The vampire tensed, and his eyes flew open. "What?! No!" The Company would turn him into some caged Frankenstein!!
Reply
Reply
Was Mohinder about to admit he understood anything Sylar did? No. He wanted to defend himself and say he hadn't killed that many, but killing with his bare hands was no different than indirectly killing with the virus he'd created. The weight of it all was coming down on him, fast, making it difficult to breathe. Leave it to Sylar to still cause him vulnerability when he was so very powerful for once.
"I never meant for any of this to happen," he whispered, his gaze on Sylar's neck. Anywhere but his eyes. Damn those pretty auburn eyes. "I'm trying to fix it."
Peter didn't quite catch what he'd said, so he rubbed Claire's back for a minute before speaking up. "Can we go inside? Its cold."
Reply
Leave a comment