Save the... serial killer? [CLOSED]
WHO: Mohinder Suresh (notdouble0seven) & Sylar (make_it_tick)
WHAT: Mohinder returns the favour.
WHERE: The clinic.
WHEN: Right after this.
( i've got the abattoir blues )
WHAT: Mohinder returns the favour.
WHERE: The clinic.
WHEN: Right after this.
( i've got the abattoir blues )
...his shoulders ached suspiciously, but Sylar decided that was the least of his worries right now. Wincing slightly as Mohinder swabbed antiseptic across his stitches, and regretted it immediately. That was SO not badass. He looked weak and vulnerable enough already, without giving the impression he couldn't even handle a little bit of stinging.
Blinking his eyes open, he frowned at Mohinder's question. That was sort of the problem, wasn't it? What WAS he trying to do...? Didn't he have a memory ability that was supposed to prevent situations like this? Straining his brain to remember, he recalled the ball, there was dancing... Maya got mad at him...
Then he left the ball... came here... why? There was an explosion. Explosions! SHIT, MAYA. Sylar gasped, he'd left her alone at the party, she must have been terrified, maybe hurt. But that's not the important part... He came here, and then...
Blood. Lot's of blood, way too much. And...
"CLAIRE!" he shouted suddenly, sitting up and not caring an ounce about his stitches. "Fuck, where is she?" he asked, sounding a little panicked. His head swam as he gripped the sides of the table. She was killed... it was awful, and it looked... bad. Way worse than anything he'd even done. Right? He was going to... what was he going to do? Try to save her? Right, Mohinder had the same idea, but then another bomb...
So he left. And then... Sylar frowned, shaking his head. "He took her." The edges of the table froze underneath his palms. "He doesn't know what he's doing," Sylar said frustrated, but he had to trust she would be all right. After all, there was the matter of the killer.
"Rudy did this," Sylar blurted. He didn't have any proof, but it had to be true. Rudy was taunting him or something, he picked her for a reason and probably not just because she could heal. The guilt slowly crept up into him and where the table had been freezing the ice melted and the able started to burn hotter and hotter. "I'm going to fucking kill him," he said, voice low and dangerous.
Sylar warned him. He did. Now dear Rudy was going to face the consequences.
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"HEY!" Mohinder cried out as Sylar suddenly shot up off the table. "What did I just say to you?" he asked, shaking his head and feebly attempting to push Sylar back down.
Sylar was obviously having none of that.
Mohinder tried to follow along, tried to understand what he was saying. So... he did find her, but apparently misplaced her soon after. Great. Brilliant. So bloody usele-- No. Mohinder stopped himself, realizing he shouldn't be getting this upset, because after all at least Sylar tried to protect her, and he could hardly fault him for falling unconscious after the amount of injury he sustained. He was going to have to work on suppressing this automatic surge of venom he felt whenever Sylar spoke because it was beginning to get in the way of more important things, like understanding who the hell he was talking about when he said 'he took her'.
Mohinder opened his mouth to ask, but he suddenly felt a chill run through his body. Looking down, his eyes widened as he saw ice crystals forming on the examination table. "Sylar..." he warned, but he stopped when he heard it. That name. God, he shouldn't have been surprised, knowing too well how unstable Rudy was already. And he couldn't help thinking that Rudy wouldn't have even known Claire if she hadn't come to help Mohinder in that damn alley.
"Rudy," he repeated, his voice tinged with anger and guilt. He knew what Sylar was about to say before he said it and he prepared himself to argue with him, pointing out that Sylar obviously couldn't do much in his current state, but the cold table had quickly changed to a bright, hot red and Mohinder could smell burning plastic.
As far as he knew, Sylar didn't possess any pyrokinetic abilities, so this must be... oh no... "Sylar. SYLAR. STOP IT." Mohinder backed as far away from the table as possible. "Rudy will pay for what he's done but if you don't calm yourself down you're either going to give me radiation poisoning or blow us both to pieces."
Mohinder prayed Sylar had more self control than Peter when it came to this ability or else the citizens of Rivelata were going to have to worry about more than just a few fires.
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"I tried to find an obstruction in her brain stem, like we thought, but there was nothing obvious..." He recalled the events of the entire night like it was a movie playing in his head, "I was about to look closer when another explosion went off, something closer, and I thought it would be better to get her out then, than not at all." Sylar shook his head. If he had just stayed another minute. The clinic had obviously not been about to burn down.
"Then her fucking boyfriend showed up, that football player," Sylar spat, disgusted. Though with whom was quite unclear. "He shot me like a million times," he only slighted exaggerated, his tone as though he couldn't quite believe someone would want to do that. "And then he threw... this knife... it hit Claire... and then I shot him back. I was dropping her, and I was a wrack... so it wasn't that hard. I didn't really want to hurt him," Sylar said, shocked at himself.
Looking over at Mohinder in mild surprise as he yelled, Sylar looked down at his hands. Oh right. "Chill out, Mohinder, I'm not that careless." Or stupid, he added to himself as he pulled his power back in. Who did Suresh think he was, honestly? Peter?
"Anyway, that's when he knocked me out," Sylar concluded, carefully swinging his legs over the side of the table. Gingerly, he tried to stand, seeing how much weight he could put on his legs for now. Christ and these clothes were so nice. Now they were completely ruined. No matter, he had to get to Rudy before Claire woke up and told her fucking boyfriend and who the fuck else the real person behind this.
"Cooper is going to pay by dying," Sylar emphasized, almost daring Mohinder to debate that.
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"If you didn't want to hurt him then why on earth did you antagonize him in the first place?" Mohinder said angrily. "What did you expect him to think, seeing you standing there covered in blood holding Claire's body?" He didn't know what else he should have expected rather than Sylar rushing into a situation half-cocked, ready for a fight, too stubborn to back down...
Mohinder stepped slowly back towards him as the glow began to fade from Sylar's hands. How lovely that he could be so nonchalant about it. "Sylar, you've just been shot over ten times, mostly in your legs. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing but I would seriously advise you to sit. Back. Down." Not like he would listen, but Mohinder felt he should at least attempt to be some kind of practical voice in this situation.
And speaking of practicality...
He could see it in Sylar's eyes; fire, determination, and a furious need for revenge that obscured any sort of logical thinking process he may have. Mohinder knew it well. He also knew that it could only get a person killed... or worse.
"I... I understand what you're saying, and what he did to Claire..." Mohinder paused and looked away, shaking his head. "It was unforgivable. What he did to me was unforgivable but I gave him the benefit of the doubt, with that curse, he might not have known..."
He was going to have to say it. And Sylar was not going to be happy.
"We can't kill him."
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Sylar remembered coming to this conclusion during the fight, and therefore had focused on his primary goal.
"Because I didn't want him to get to Rudy before I could deal with him," Sylar spat. There were a lot of things that Sylar simply did not forgive. Encroaching on his territory and denying him revenge were two of those things. "And because he fucking shot me! Besides that's what I wanted him to think. Any more questions, doctor?"
Little by little, he put more and more weight on his legs, pushing as far as he could. It wasn't the pain that really bothered him, that he could just ignore. But if he was too weak to stand, that would present a problem. Looking over at Mohinder, he hesitantly sat back down. Maybe Mohinder was right, he was in no condition to be running around now. This was not good.
Frowning, Sylar listened to Mohinder do the impossible. "Are you DEFENDING him?! Of course he knew what he was doing, you think he just found how to kill her on accident? Not only that, but the weapon wasn't easily visible, the incisions were careful and precise, the amputation was surgical," Sylar felt himself grow angrier by the second just thinking about it.
"OF COURSE WE CA-" Wait.
...wait.
"...did you just say we?" Why would he do that?
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Oh, and off he went. Mohinder just lowered his head and listened, crossing his arms defensively in front of him. Sylar could throw all the goddamn temper tantrums he wanted, Mohinder was not going to back down.
"I am not defending him!" Mohinder shot back defiantly. He may be trusting and ok, yes, slightly naive sometimes, but he wasn't an idiot. If what Sylar said was correct, Rudy had planned this, probably ever since he first saw Claire. It wasn't a random act of violence or something brought on by his transformation. It was unforgivable. But still, they couldn't just...
He raised his head back up as Sylar finally stopped yelling.
"Yes, of course I said we," Mohinder retorted, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. In fact, it just kind of came out, and Mohinder was as confused by it as Sylar was.
"Look, I-- I care about Claire too. I'm not just going to sit back and do nothing while Rudy runs free around Rivelata thinking that he can get away with what he's done!" As he spoke, Mohinder's mind began to make sense of things. Apparently his subconscious was wiser than he realized. "You need me."
Sylar was going to love that.
"You're too impulsive and if you go chasing after Rudy you're going to get yourself killed, and then what use would you be? Your powers may be coming back but they're still weak, and Rudy is strong and quick and very smart. We need a better plan."
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Wait. Was he repeating his thoughts now...?
After opening one eye to look at Mohinder, Sylar covered his face with his hands. "It sure sounded like you were defending him," he said. What kind of excuse is 'Well he might just have been cursed'? Even if he was, well putting him down would be a matter of public safety, right? Like a rabid dog. Besides, "I know what I saw."
Then... what? Sitting up again, slowly this time, Sylar looked at Mohinder. Mainly incredulously. Really? Sylar had mostly expected him to deny it. Hell, at that point Sylar might even have believed that he misheard the whole thing. But no. Of course he'd said 'we'.
However THAT was going a bit too far. Sylar needed him? Like hell he did. Sylar bit back the urge to get defensive and angry. Instead, he snorted derisively, "What are you going to, invite him over for a tea party?"
"I am not impulsive," Sylar said as calmly as he good. Snapping would just prove Mohinder right. He hated that. "Except for emergencies. You've just never experienced the full effect of my planning abilities." Jesus Christ, some people. He could at least give credit when it was due.
But... he was right. His powers were no where near where they used to be. And Rudy.... obviously a force to be reckoned with. "Fine. What did you have in mind?" Sylar asked as if the thought of letting Mohinder help him get revenge was physically painful to him. It kind of was.
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He gets snarky.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Mohinder snapped, stopping himself from adding 'you idiot' on to the end of that sentence. It was like he could only see in black and white; either someone was on your side, or they deserved to die. This whole scenario was... different, and much more complicated.
Mohinder rolled his eyes. "Sure, you just keep telling yourself that. I seem to remember one of your last big plans ended with you skewered on a samurai sword, no?" Ok, that was a little harsh, but it was taking all of Mohinder's willpower not to just shoot Sylar full of morphine and dump him back at his house to fend for himself.
There was so much tension between them that Mohinder's nerves were practically vibrating. He could tell Sylar was absolutely loathe to admit that Mohinder was right about something, but he apparently decided it would be beneficial for both of them if he agreed.
"Good," Mohinder said, nodding his head briefly. And now-- wait. Oh, right. He needed a plan. Luckily, everything that had happened to him over the past year had made him much better at thinking on his feet, so he grabbed the small bottle of morphine off the table and held it up.
"A few doses of this should render him unconscious, or at least unable to fight back. Now that the jungle is somewhat safer, we can drag him out and leave him to fend for himself. Hopefully he'll get the message and stay out of the city." Mohinder knew it wasn't a foolproof plan, and there was always a chance Rudy could come back, but he wasn't going to be a part of anything involving murder. He'd seen more than enough of that for his lifetime.
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Maybe if he'd heard the conversation Sylar had had with Rudy that day. If he had seen that look. If he had heard Rudy talk. Sylar... didn't want to be like him. Not ever. It wasn't the same, what he had done and what Rudy was doing. It wasn't the same. Sylar would never admit it, but that conversation. It had sort of scared him. Maybe he was right. What he said about Mohinder.
...but bringing up the Kirby Plaza incident was totally unnecessary. That wasn't fair. Sylar was in no kind of emotional condition to handle some random stranger popping out of nowhere and shoving a sword though his midsection. Normally, he was prepared for anything. Bullets? Fine, no problem. Seeing Nakamura there was different. See him with that sword, almost the same pose, right after his mother's death. Half of Sylar had still really wanted to die.
It was sort of overwhelming. Sylar frowned and stared at the floor. Mohinder had no right to bring that up. Not that Mohinder could ever know that. They could joke about torture no problem, what was one small stab wound?
Looking up at Mohinder, Sylar tried not to look phased by it as he listened to the big plan. Christ, he really was going to back out of this. Go soft on them. Sylar could not let that happen.
...wait, them. Them, there were two, weren't there? He had seen two. But who was the other one? Sylar couldn't mention it to Mohinder until he had figured out, or else he would just get yelled at again. So he didn't push it. "Yeah, I'm sure that will work," Sylar said, more than a little sarcastic. Well, maybe he'd push it a little. He'd already made his opinion quite clear, after all.
Rubbing his temple, his head was still throbbing, Sylar asked, "Listen, have you heard anything about Maya? I left her alone, I wasn't supposed to." It was more of an afterthought than anything, after all that had happened tonight. Still, he felt kind of guilty, and if something happened to her.
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It made his head hurt.
And of course, as soon as he was done explaining things, Sylar switched right back into 'evil, sarcastic bastard' mode. "Fine! Do you have a better idea?" Mohinder asked, folding his arms and pursing his lips tightly. Honestly, what the hell was Sylar expecting? Rivelata had no jail or police force that Mohinder was aware of - aside from the Queen's guards, and he wasn't even going to start down that road - so what were they going to do with him? Draw and quarter him like some medieval prisoner? Actually... Sylar would probably enjoy that.
Mohinder was still grumbling inwardly when Sylar mentioned Maya. He looked up incredulously, almost wondering if he had misheard the man.
"Why do you care?"
It came out before he could stop himself. But really, it was a valid question. "You didn't seem to have a problem leaving her alone when this whole blood-filled journal business started, and she was terrified! I had to go over and comfort her... isn't that supposed to be your job?" Mohinder knew Maya considered Sylar to be her 'boyfriend' - or whatever - but he obviously wasn't a very good one.
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