Spur of the moment story
Author: Megmatthews20
Rating: PG-ish
Word Count: 1409
Characters: Mohinder, Sylar, Bennet/Dr. Kale (just read it), Nirand,
Summary: Mohinder wakes up to find reality a little more terrifying than usual
Warning: drugging, restraints, ummmm...wtf-ery
A/N: I just randomly came up with this as I woke today as inspired by the Pink Floyd song "Comfortably Numb"...sort of...enjoy
Mohinder scrabbled to get a hold on his attacker, heart pounding as he felt Sylar press the drugged cloth over his face. This was too strange, too unusual for Sylar. The man would never stoop to this, to using chloroform...
Mohinder tried not to breath, but as his body began to tremble, lungs burning, he couldn’t resist the impulse, and sucked in a frightened breath. Immediately his head began to spin, fingers pulling desperately at Sylar’s arm. As his body tensed in pain from the oxygen starvation, he couldn’t help but pull in another breath, and soon another. Mohinder’s grip began to weaken as he tried to fight off his attacker. His legs buckled, and as drowsiness swept over him, Sylar held him tighter so that he wouldn’t fall. Mohinder shook as he breathed in again, then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into Sylar’s arms, unconscious.
XXXX
“Mohinder? Can you hear me? Wake up, Mohinder.”
Mohinder opened his eyes, closing them in pain as his head suddenly throbbed from the bright light above him. He tried to move his hand to his head, to massage his temple, but he found his wrists were bound down beside his body.
“I’ll dim the lights.”
The voice was familiar.
Mohinder opened his eyes again as the harsh glare of the overhead light disappeared. He looked around, feeling a thrill of terror as he saw the room, the bed, his clothes. He was dressed like a psych patient in a mental ward, and his arms were currently strapped down at his sides to the bed. The white sheets of the bed matched Mohinder’s white shirt. In panic he tried to pull at the restraints, but they did not give way.
“Calm down, Mohinder,” the man came to stand over him, and Mohinder recognized Noah Bennet in the dim light of the room.
“Noah, what is this?” Mohinder asked, “am I at the Company? Are you working with him?”
“Mohinder, I need you to remember me now. I’m Dr. Kale. I’m working with you to help you get past your trauma. You’re having an episode right now. You were having some bad dreams. I’m here to help you get better.”
“Kale...wh-what is this?” Mohinder tried to sit up and failed, squirming against the bed as he realized his ankles were also restrained.
“You don’t remember?”
Mohinder shook his head numbly, feeling completely shocked.
“You’ve been here since your father died, Mohinder. You came to New York, and then you began to have problems. You couldn’t handle his death, and you began to pose a danger to others and yourself. You believe there are people who can fly, and explode. We’re trying to help you overcome these...non-existant realities.”
“No, no you don’t understand. I was attacked, by him, by Sylar. He’s the man who killed my father,” Mohinder said.
Dr. Kale shook his head sadly, “Mohinder, your father was mugged. Nothing more. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he died. It’s not your fault. You need to move past this.”
“No! Sylar drugged me, he knocked me out, and then...and then...”
Mohinder looked around, suddenly realizing how crazy it all sounded. He wouldn’t have believed it himself a few years ago. But now he knew it to be true...didn’t he?
“Mohinder, you were just having a nightmare. You were moaning in your sleep. I woke you up,” Dr. Kale explained...no, it was Bennet. It was definitely Bennet. There had never been a Dr. Kale. Mohinder didn’t know anyone by that name.
“Go find Bob!” Mohinder insisted, “Bennet, please. You know me.”
“Listen,” the tall man leaned forward, “you’re never going to get out of here if you don’t get past this. Whatever you have to do to let this go, I want to help you do it. Tell me whatever you need to about these fantasies of yours, and I’ll help you work past them.”
“They’re not fantasies,” Mohinder hissed.
“Right. A super-natural serial killer murdered your father, and you watched a man get carried away by his brother and explode in the atmosphere. Can you see how strange this all sounds?”
“It’s not that simple. Damnit, Bennet, please let me go.”
The tall man stood straighter, sighing as he looked at Mohinder.
“I think you’re going to be in here for a very long time.”
Bennet...Kale turned and walked toward the door.
“Wait!” Mohinder begged.
The tall man turned around, “what is it?”
“Please, I don’t understand what’s going on here. You’re claiming that Sylar was just a dream? That Nathan, and Peter, Matt, and Molly were all part of some strange fantasy?” Mohinder asked.
“Yes. You created these people because you needed them to help you cope with your father’s death. They don’t exist. No one can move things with their mind, Mohinder.”
Mohinder blinked back tears of frustration and fear as he struggled to consider this realization, “but they seemed so real. I spent two years of my life among them.”
“You spent two years of your life here, where I’ve been trying to help you overcome these dreams and fantasies.”
“I shot you,” Mohinder mumbled.
Kale raised an eyebrow, “as you can see I’m perfectly fine.”
“No, but, I brought you back with the healing blood,” Mohinder insisted.
“Right, the magical healing blood that can cure anyone.”
The magical healing blood...it was ridiculous. Who the hell could have believed in such a thing.
“Are you...they’re not real?” Mohinder asked.
Kale nodded slowly, smiling a little as he came back toward the bed, “that’s right. That’s exactly right. They’re just a manifestation of your mind. You’ve got to let them go.”
Kale and Mohinder both looked toward the door when there was a quiet knock. As they watched, the door opened and Nirand stepped quietly inside.
“Hello, Mohinder. How are you doing today?” Nirand asked, coming to stand on the other side of the bed from Kale.
“Nirand? What are you doing here?” Mohinder asked.
“I heard you were having a relapse, and I wanted to be here by your side, my dear friend.”
“You came here for me?” Mohinder felt a rush of gratitude.
“Of course. I’ll always be here for you.”
Mohinder lay his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes, “I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to think it was all made up.”
“I know you don’t. But you need to trust Dr. Kale. He only wants to help you.”
“Mm-hmm,” Dr. Kale affirmed.
“How do I get better, Nirand?” Mohinder asked, opening his eyes to look at his friend.
“You let everything go. You tell Dr. Kale all about your fantasies, and he will help you work through them. You can trust him,” Nirand explained.
“Tell him everything,” Mohinder mumbled.
“Yes, everything.”
“Have you seen my mother?” Mohinder asked.
Nirand nodded.
“Is she still planting orchids?”
“Yes. Orchids, petunias, musk roses...every year.”
“That’s funny,” Mohinder said.
“Why is that?” Nirand frowned.
“Because my mother is severely allergic to orchids.”
Mohinder glared up at Nirand, watching with no surprise as the man’s form began to tremble, before dissolving away to nothing, the walls behind him changing from white to dingy brown. Mohinder turned his gaze to Sylar, who stood where Bennet, or Dr. Kale, had been standing.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Sylar grinned.
“Perhaps you should have done your homework,” Mohinder said, uncomfortably aware that the restraints remained just as real as they’d been in the illusion.
“I thought I had,” Sylar pointed out.
“Are you going to kill me now?” Mohinder asked.
“I can’t decide yet,” Sylar said, leaning forward to grab a fistful of Mohinder’s curls in his hand, “life would get so boring without you in it.”
Mohinder held Sylar’s gaze, feeling the sting in his scalp from the grip on his hair, and the throb in his skull from the after effects of the chloroform. He refused to look away from his captor.
“Get some rest, Mohinder,” Sylar said, “I have some people to visit. People who might be more willing to give me some answers. Then I’ll be back.”
Mohinder watched as Sylar released his curls, standing straight.
“You’re really something, doctor,” Sylar said, an amused smirk still on his lips as he turned away, leaving Mohinder tied to the bed, alive, trapped, but at least in his right mind.
Rating: PG-ish
Word Count: 1409
Characters: Mohinder, Sylar, Bennet/Dr. Kale (just read it), Nirand,
Summary: Mohinder wakes up to find reality a little more terrifying than usual
Warning: drugging, restraints, ummmm...wtf-ery
A/N: I just randomly came up with this as I woke today as inspired by the Pink Floyd song "Comfortably Numb"...sort of...enjoy
Mohinder scrabbled to get a hold on his attacker, heart pounding as he felt Sylar press the drugged cloth over his face. This was too strange, too unusual for Sylar. The man would never stoop to this, to using chloroform...
Mohinder tried not to breath, but as his body began to tremble, lungs burning, he couldn’t resist the impulse, and sucked in a frightened breath. Immediately his head began to spin, fingers pulling desperately at Sylar’s arm. As his body tensed in pain from the oxygen starvation, he couldn’t help but pull in another breath, and soon another. Mohinder’s grip began to weaken as he tried to fight off his attacker. His legs buckled, and as drowsiness swept over him, Sylar held him tighter so that he wouldn’t fall. Mohinder shook as he breathed in again, then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into Sylar’s arms, unconscious.
XXXX
“Mohinder? Can you hear me? Wake up, Mohinder.”
Mohinder opened his eyes, closing them in pain as his head suddenly throbbed from the bright light above him. He tried to move his hand to his head, to massage his temple, but he found his wrists were bound down beside his body.
“I’ll dim the lights.”
The voice was familiar.
Mohinder opened his eyes again as the harsh glare of the overhead light disappeared. He looked around, feeling a thrill of terror as he saw the room, the bed, his clothes. He was dressed like a psych patient in a mental ward, and his arms were currently strapped down at his sides to the bed. The white sheets of the bed matched Mohinder’s white shirt. In panic he tried to pull at the restraints, but they did not give way.
“Calm down, Mohinder,” the man came to stand over him, and Mohinder recognized Noah Bennet in the dim light of the room.
“Noah, what is this?” Mohinder asked, “am I at the Company? Are you working with him?”
“Mohinder, I need you to remember me now. I’m Dr. Kale. I’m working with you to help you get past your trauma. You’re having an episode right now. You were having some bad dreams. I’m here to help you get better.”
“Kale...wh-what is this?” Mohinder tried to sit up and failed, squirming against the bed as he realized his ankles were also restrained.
“You don’t remember?”
Mohinder shook his head numbly, feeling completely shocked.
“You’ve been here since your father died, Mohinder. You came to New York, and then you began to have problems. You couldn’t handle his death, and you began to pose a danger to others and yourself. You believe there are people who can fly, and explode. We’re trying to help you overcome these...non-existant realities.”
“No, no you don’t understand. I was attacked, by him, by Sylar. He’s the man who killed my father,” Mohinder said.
Dr. Kale shook his head sadly, “Mohinder, your father was mugged. Nothing more. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he died. It’s not your fault. You need to move past this.”
“No! Sylar drugged me, he knocked me out, and then...and then...”
Mohinder looked around, suddenly realizing how crazy it all sounded. He wouldn’t have believed it himself a few years ago. But now he knew it to be true...didn’t he?
“Mohinder, you were just having a nightmare. You were moaning in your sleep. I woke you up,” Dr. Kale explained...no, it was Bennet. It was definitely Bennet. There had never been a Dr. Kale. Mohinder didn’t know anyone by that name.
“Go find Bob!” Mohinder insisted, “Bennet, please. You know me.”
“Listen,” the tall man leaned forward, “you’re never going to get out of here if you don’t get past this. Whatever you have to do to let this go, I want to help you do it. Tell me whatever you need to about these fantasies of yours, and I’ll help you work past them.”
“They’re not fantasies,” Mohinder hissed.
“Right. A super-natural serial killer murdered your father, and you watched a man get carried away by his brother and explode in the atmosphere. Can you see how strange this all sounds?”
“It’s not that simple. Damnit, Bennet, please let me go.”
The tall man stood straighter, sighing as he looked at Mohinder.
“I think you’re going to be in here for a very long time.”
Bennet...Kale turned and walked toward the door.
“Wait!” Mohinder begged.
The tall man turned around, “what is it?”
“Please, I don’t understand what’s going on here. You’re claiming that Sylar was just a dream? That Nathan, and Peter, Matt, and Molly were all part of some strange fantasy?” Mohinder asked.
“Yes. You created these people because you needed them to help you cope with your father’s death. They don’t exist. No one can move things with their mind, Mohinder.”
Mohinder blinked back tears of frustration and fear as he struggled to consider this realization, “but they seemed so real. I spent two years of my life among them.”
“You spent two years of your life here, where I’ve been trying to help you overcome these dreams and fantasies.”
“I shot you,” Mohinder mumbled.
Kale raised an eyebrow, “as you can see I’m perfectly fine.”
“No, but, I brought you back with the healing blood,” Mohinder insisted.
“Right, the magical healing blood that can cure anyone.”
The magical healing blood...it was ridiculous. Who the hell could have believed in such a thing.
“Are you...they’re not real?” Mohinder asked.
Kale nodded slowly, smiling a little as he came back toward the bed, “that’s right. That’s exactly right. They’re just a manifestation of your mind. You’ve got to let them go.”
Kale and Mohinder both looked toward the door when there was a quiet knock. As they watched, the door opened and Nirand stepped quietly inside.
“Hello, Mohinder. How are you doing today?” Nirand asked, coming to stand on the other side of the bed from Kale.
“Nirand? What are you doing here?” Mohinder asked.
“I heard you were having a relapse, and I wanted to be here by your side, my dear friend.”
“You came here for me?” Mohinder felt a rush of gratitude.
“Of course. I’ll always be here for you.”
Mohinder lay his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes, “I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to think it was all made up.”
“I know you don’t. But you need to trust Dr. Kale. He only wants to help you.”
“Mm-hmm,” Dr. Kale affirmed.
“How do I get better, Nirand?” Mohinder asked, opening his eyes to look at his friend.
“You let everything go. You tell Dr. Kale all about your fantasies, and he will help you work through them. You can trust him,” Nirand explained.
“Tell him everything,” Mohinder mumbled.
“Yes, everything.”
“Have you seen my mother?” Mohinder asked.
Nirand nodded.
“Is she still planting orchids?”
“Yes. Orchids, petunias, musk roses...every year.”
“That’s funny,” Mohinder said.
“Why is that?” Nirand frowned.
“Because my mother is severely allergic to orchids.”
Mohinder glared up at Nirand, watching with no surprise as the man’s form began to tremble, before dissolving away to nothing, the walls behind him changing from white to dingy brown. Mohinder turned his gaze to Sylar, who stood where Bennet, or Dr. Kale, had been standing.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Sylar grinned.
“Perhaps you should have done your homework,” Mohinder said, uncomfortably aware that the restraints remained just as real as they’d been in the illusion.
“I thought I had,” Sylar pointed out.
“Are you going to kill me now?” Mohinder asked.
“I can’t decide yet,” Sylar said, leaning forward to grab a fistful of Mohinder’s curls in his hand, “life would get so boring without you in it.”
Mohinder held Sylar’s gaze, feeling the sting in his scalp from the grip on his hair, and the throb in his skull from the after effects of the chloroform. He refused to look away from his captor.
“Get some rest, Mohinder,” Sylar said, “I have some people to visit. People who might be more willing to give me some answers. Then I’ll be back.”
Mohinder watched as Sylar released his curls, standing straight.
“You’re really something, doctor,” Sylar said, an amused smirk still on his lips as he turned away, leaving Mohinder tied to the bed, alive, trapped, but at least in his right mind.