What They Wish They Never Knew. (fic)
Author: Razycrandomgirl
Title: What They Wish They Never Knew
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13 (cursing?)
Characters/Pairings: Maya, Mohinder, Sylar and Elle
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, just like to play with them sometimes.
Spoilers/Time Line: Lots for all seasons
Summery: In a dark room between AU, Canon and WTF...
Author’s Notes: Because I needed to write some crack to figure things out. Thank you gimmemypickle who looked at it for me. Also if it's too crappy .... my fault
*In a dark room between AU, Canon and WTF...*
"Where am I?"
Mohinder Suresh looks down at a table covered in papers and moves to sit. He draws a hand over the sheets of papers.
"This must be my father’s research."
“I doubt it," sounds a familiar voice from the other side of the dark table.
“Who’s there?”
“An old friend. Though, according to this, we’re more than just friends.”
“Sylar!”
“Yes, Mohinder, it’s me! I have to tell you, I am really glad you’re here. I don’t know if I can stand another moment sitting here alone with her glaring at me.”
“I’d do more than just stare at you, you bastard, but I can’t seem to get up from my chair.” Maya Herrera twitches in her chair to prove the point.
“Are you okay? Has he hurt you?” Mohinder tries to move toward Maya, but finds he, too, is stuck to his chair. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m not doing it.” Sylar waves his hands in the air. “Our powers seem to be negated in this… wherever we are.”
"Damn straight they’re negated. Otherwise, you would be rotting meat right now."
“Yeah, yeah. This has been going on for hours.” Sylar tilts his head back and his voice takes on a whiny note.
“There’s nothing else better to do.” She lets out a sigh and picks up a paper, holding it to her face.
“What’s this?” Mohinder asks.
“We don’t know; it was here before we arrived. All I know is, I’d rather read it than have to talk with him.” Maya skims the sheet for a while before her eyes widen in what can only be described as horror. She lays down the paper, her chin quivering like she is about to vomit. “On second thought…”
Sylar leans over, snatching up the paper she put down. His eyes glide over the contents as his mouth pulls into a dirty smile. “I remember this. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We could try it again, if you'd like?”
“No! We cannot try it again, because THAT never happened, Gabriel! I would never... with you. Not if you were the last man on earth. EVER! God, where do these people come up with this crap?”
“I don’t know, I though it was pretty good.” Sylar folds the paper up, tucking it into his shirt pocket. “You seemed to like what was happening to you in the story.” He leers at her.
“THAT’S BECAUSE A NUTCASE WROTE IT?!?!”
Mohinder decides the only way he’s going to figure out what’s going on, is if he finds out for himself. He picks up a sheet and starts to read as the others continue to bicker.
Sylar watches as Mohinder’s expression sours comically as he flips through the pages. "WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?!"
“Looks like it’s called ‘fanfiction’ of the ‘slash’ variety. Like it?”
“I WOULD NEVER HAVE SEX WITH YOU!”
Sylar looks up from the pages in his hands. "Because you're not gay?’"
"NO! BECAUSE YOU MURDERED MY FATHER!"
"So, if I hadn't murdered your father, you would have sex with me?" Sylar's eyes widen and blossom with amusement. Mohinder knows he's taking the piss and his eye twitches in irritation.
Maya's attention turns to Mohinder, a look of awe etched into her features. "He murdered one of your family members, too?"
Mohinder pulls his scathing look away from Sylar, who'd gone back to looking through the papers on the table, and looks toward Maya. He notices how pretty she is and smiles sadly at her. "You didn't, perhaps, happen to go on a road trip with him, did you?" he asks, eyes swinging back to the other man.
"We picked him up, just inside of Mexico. He was just laying in the middle of the road."
"It would have done the world better if you just left him there."
"If only we'd have known... I'm sure none of us would have minded much, running him over."
Sylar rolls his eyes. "Here we go again."
*
Maya holds up one story, waving it at the men before her. "This one has me smiling like an idiot again. Like that’s the only thing I know how to do."
He shrugs dismissively at her comment. “You mean besides cry?” He ducks as a piece of surprisingly smart paper whooshes past his head.
“You know, if you really did this to me... Me gustaría cortaron los testículos y dárselo a usted. You know that, right?"
Mohinder swallows hard and lets his hand fall under the table to cover his crotch.
"I know, I know, " Sylar says. He pauses, staring at her a few moments before looking down at a paper in his lap. His voice is softer now. “I don't really find you as annoying as these people are making it out to be. I actually... uh... liked you. And if it wasn't for your unwillingness to embrace your powers, this thing they keep referring to as the 'Writers' Strike', and me getting my powers back... I think we could have worked something out." He stares at her, eyes taking in the shape of her body.
"And your killing my brother..."
Sylar clears his throat nervously.
*
"What are you doing?" Sylar asks.
She glares at him again, flipping her hair agitatedly, and placing another sheet on the pile at her elbow.
“Isn’t it obvious? She’s making 'sorting piles'.” Maya smiles at Mohinder; Mohinder smiles back. Sylar looks between them and begins to glower.
"I can see she’s making piles, Doctor. Thank you very much.” He turns his attention back to her. “Maya, why are you making piles?”
There's a long, deliberate pause before she finally answers him. "I'm just making piles. Everything's all over the place and I thought maybe we're supposed to put it in some kind of order."
"In 'order'? You think there's an order to this?" he asks.
"Don't know?" She sounds annoyed. "I just need something to do."
"Well, what is your system?" Mohinder asks. "Maybe I can help."
She sighs tiredly, but smiles at him, touching each pile with her fingers. "Reality, possibility, ridiculous... " Her fingers skim over a fourth pile, but her words fall away.
"And the fourth?" Mohinder pushes as Sylar sits up in his seat.
Maya's face flushes with color and she mumbles, "It's... random."
Mohinder gives Sylar a curious look before shrugging and frowning down at another sheet of paper, grumbling about butt plugs under his breath. Sylar's eyes bore into Maya's flushed skin before he pulls himself up to full height in his chair. He quickly snatches a handful of papers from the topmost pile of her 'random' group. Maya makes a move to stop him, but he's already leaning back in his chair, a mirthless smile growing on his face.
Maya's lips pull back from her teeth, bearing a ferocious look, and her cheeks redden furiously. She groans loudly, then pushes herself back in the chair with a loud knocking sound that cracks the air. Her eyes cut to Mohinder's and he suddenly finds a spot on the floor very interesting.
Sylar clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak.
"If you read that out loud-!"
"Lemme guess, you're going to kill me?" He takes a deep breath, holding the paper up like it is morning announcements.
"Gabriel. Gabriel, please."
She sits up in her seat again, gathering up more papers, trying with great effort to ignore Sylar. He takes a deep breath and runs his eyes over the paper. His smile fades. "Are they all like this?"
Maya's mouth pulls into a thin, hard line before she speaks again, "I don't know what you're talking about." She moves uncomfortably in her seat before regaining her backbone and jabbing her hand out towards him in a demanding gesture."Give it back to me, Gabriel."
"So we're back to calling me 'Gabriel' again?"
Her eyes flicker to Mohinder, sitting in the chair beside her, then back to Sylar. They are silently pleading. Mohinder stares confused yet curiously between the two.
"It's just a tiny, insignificant pile of untrue things. They never happened. They never will happen. It's crazy."
"The pile isn't that small, Maya."
"It's small enough," she whispers.
*
"I've found one with all our names on it."
"I've found one where you sleep with everyone that you've ever met."
"I've found one where you're sleeping with your mother. I never knew your relationship was so close." Sylar makes a face, grabs the paper and rips it up before it can cause any more pain to the universe at large.
"These people are batshit crazy." Mohinder and Maya look at him with knowing glances. "Crazier than me. This is some seriously fucked up shit," he says as he shakes the pieces in his clenched fist.
"And murdering people isn't fucked up?"
"I never slept with my mother!"
"Are you sure about that? 'Cause this one right here says you did and you enjoyed it. A lot."
"Well, this one says that you enjoy sleeping with your brother."
Maya makes a dry heaving sound and gropes her hand over her mouth. "Su basura. Throw it away!"
"Gladly." He balls up the paper and throws it in the darkest corner of the room.
*
What's 'retcon'?
"'A crazy kind of monster that eats up everything that came before.' What? It says so right here." Mohinder holds up the sheet and points to the top of the page, next to the letters 'A\N'.
"That bitch who tried to electrocute me! Seriously?!"
"Remind me to bake her a cake," Maya says with a wistful smile on her face.
"When it comes to Elle Bishop, it's best to remain invisible."
"Hear, hear, mate."
"What was-?"
"Never mind." Mohinder shakes his head.
*
"I think I like this AU stuff. At least all the stories where I'm killing you. A lot."
"I don't. I like the ones where you start off trying to kill me, but then I get the upper hand - as I always should - and then we-"
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Maya yells, then making a frightening hissing sound as she balls up another document, throwing it on the ground.
"Eh, I'm not sure yet. Apparently, what's happening in these stories would be considered 'okay' - if I may be so bold - if they took place in an alternate universe." Mohinder clears his throat. "But the people who are writing them aren't defining them as such, which is confusing, because in this world... no. Just... no."
"For example?"
"Well, this one has you and me living together, taking care of Molly Walker."
"..."
"Yeah."
"I killed her parents."
"You murdered them!" Maya corrects. Sylar tosses one hand in the air in a halting motion.
"You've killed a lot of people," Mohinder adds.
"Oh, let's make a list of all the people he's murdered!"
"It still wouldn't be as long as yours," Sylar grumbles.
"Why is that a good idea?" Mohinder asks, loud enough to cover Sylar's comment.
"Maybe we could make him cry since he seems to be growing a conscience. Here, look at this one." Mohinder takes the paper while Maya does her best impression of Sylar from the story. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm a better person now. Look, I have a kid!"
"A KID?" Sylar almost screams.
Mohinder looks back and forth between them, again, his eyes finally resting on Maya.
"Don't look at me, I'm not having his baby!"
Sylar makes a dismissive noise and folds up another piece of paper, stuffing it into his pocket. If either of the other two notice, they don't say anything.
*
All of a sudden, a new pile of papers flutter from above, along with a dull thudding sound of something hitting the floor.
"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Ouch!"
"What the hell!"
"Dios! Por favor, no más!"
"What is it now?" Mohinder asks.
"Please, Daddy, no more time-out! I'll be a good girl! I promise!"
"Elle?!"
"Mo-bear!"
"Oh shit."
"Mo-Bear?" Maya questions Mohinder.
Elle stops in her tracks and whips her head towards Maya.
"Who's she?"
"Elle, you remember Maya from my lab. She was-"
"The one who slept through me saving everyone's ass that day. How could I forget."
Maya's mouth falls open in shock before color rises in her cheeks, and she takes a deep huffing breath. But before she can respond, Sylar cuts her off with a raised hand.
"To be fair, I did kind of shoot her."
Maya swings her head in Sylar's direction, groaning with barely concealed disdain. "Don't."
"Is she bothering you, Mo-Bear? 'Cause I'd be happy to teach her a lesson." Elle extends her fingers into a claw-like grip and flicks her wrist in Maya's general direction, her eyes glowing with mirth.
"Still wanna bake her that cake?" Sylar teased.
Maya produces a tight, unkind smile from her full lips and replies, "Maybe I do."
"What's going on in here, anyway? I thought you all hated each other?" Elle frowns and spares the table a waning look.
"No, we just all hate Sylar."
"Nice."
"What are you guys doing?"
"Why don't you have a seat and find out," Maya says as she gives a smile that is a little too pleasant.
*
"How'd you do that?" Sylar asks as both Mohinder and Maya get up from their seats and move away from the table that seemed to confine them earlier.
"The author just gave us permission to leave because she wants to end the story now and can't figure out any other way to do it."
*shifty eyes*
"What?" Sylar struggles in his chair but is still unable to move.
"Wait! Mo-Mo, where ya going?"
"Uh'm..."
"We've got lots of work to do, and then I'm thinking maybe a nice long vacation away from the loco," Maya says as she gives the other two a pointed look.
"I can surely understand that," Mohinder agrees.
"Wait, no! MO-MO! Don't leave me alone like this?"
"Well, you're not really alone." Mohinder inclines his head toward Sylar and smiles a little. "I just need to get a head start you know, developing my own research." Mohinder leads Maya to the door, brushing his hand down her back.
"Suresh!" Sylar almost growls.
"It's okay, querido. We'll just trade for a little while. You can hang here with Elle. I'm sure you'll have lots to talk about."
The door shuts with a finalizing click and Sylar slumps bonelessly back against his chair with a weary sigh. He closes his eyes and counts. The sound of papers ruffling make his eyes roll open as he stares across the table at the electric blonde. She is shuffling through the new batch of papers she brought in her wake. Sylar lets out a deep sigh and lifts a new paper to eyes. This batch was different than the ones read with Mohinder and Maya. "'Volume 3: Villains' is scrawled across in huge bulging letters. Every other description reads, "Syelle, Syelle, Syelle".
"Hey?!"
Sylar peers at Elle over the rising tops of new stories. "Yeah?" he replies, already beginning the sorting.
"What's this 'retcon'?"
~fin~
Translation:
Me gustaría cortaron los testículos y dárselo a usted.
(Roughly) I would cut off the testicles and give it to you.
basura = Trash