Labyrinth
Title: Labyrinth
Characters/Paring: Adam, Mohinder, Peter, Sylar - various permutations therein.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: It's post S2.
Warnings: Violence. Unfinished.
Word Count: 3000+
Summary: Peter and Mohinder are fleeing the Company building right when Sylar and Adam decide to storm it.
Notes: This is a WIP that will never be finished, save for some miracle of circumstance. I wrote it around 2 years ago after a comment by levitatethis and the realization that these four needed to be thrown together in this configuration. Unfortunately I was writing from a premise with no ending in mind and 9 pages later I just didn't know where to go with it. Now that I'm pretty much done with Heroes, I've decided to throw my better WIPs out there in case anyone might enjoy them. Better than wallowing on my hard drive forever unseen.
-----
“How much longer?” Mohinder inquired with more than a little anxiety laced in his voice.
“Just… almost there.” Peter replied in an almost pained tone. He’d never used Micah’s power to this extent before and it was putting a serious strain on his mental faculties. “Almost… got it…”
Mohinder peered out of the room’s one window to check the hallway once more. Sweaty palms gripped tight onto the gun in his hand as he confirmed that they were still, for the moment, alone. He hated the heavy thing, but Peter was all but useless while he was immersed in deep conversation with the Company’s computer.
They were finally putting an end to this madness, or at least Mohinder’s role in it. Staying undercover had gotten far too dangerous of late and helping Peter get in undetected to access the Company’s databanks was his last move as a spy. Peter was downloading everything they needed to a portable hard drive, and then he was going to destroy it all. They might not be willing to commit the acts of murder and destruction that would have been necessary to decimate the Company physically, but between this and destroying the few caches of backups they’d be putting the Company back decades; not to mention protecting the large number of individuals who the Company had bagged and tagged and kept on record.
Peter sucked in a deep breath, audible even from Mohinder’s position on the other side of the room. His hand flew off of the rack of servers as if burned and he stumbled back a step.
“That’s it. It’s done.” He declared with a weak smile. “Now let’s get out of here before they realize what happened.”
Mohinder returned Peter’s smile with a relieved one of his own. They still had to get back out again (Peter didn’t trust his teleportation at the best of times and they’d known he’d be exhausted when he was finished) but even if they were stopped now, they’d still have accomplished something major.
Peter disconnected the portable hard drive stuffed it into Mohinder’s shoulder bag. Peter slipped it over his head and jogged lightly up to Mohinder’s side.
“Ready?” Mohinder asked, eyeing his exhausted friend warily.
“Ya,” Peter returned with determination. “Let’s go.”
Peter slipped into invisibility and Mohinder holstered his gun, trusting his flowing lab coat to keep it hidden from the casual observer. Even then, it wasn’t uncommon for Company members to be carrying guns. As long as he wasn’t spotted by anyone who knew otherwise, no one would think there was anything wrong with him having it on his person.
The pair slipped into the hall, Peter right on Mohinder’s heels. They made it about halfway towards the exit before the alarms started blaring.
“Shit,” Peter cursed, slipping back into visibility as the lights flashed at ear-splitting sirens echoed through the hallways. “I was sure they wouldn’t figure it out until we were gone.”
“Come on, this way,” Mohinder urged. He took off at a jog, pulling out his gun and abandoning all pretense.
It didn’t even occur to the two men that the alarms might not be ringing because of them. Not until they rounded a corner and laid eyes on a pair of faces that neither man had ever wanted to see again.
Mohinder’s first instinct was to backpedal: to duck back around the corner and pray that he hadn’t been seen. Even if Sylar hadn’t spotted him the instant he came into sight, Peter overtook Mohinder before he realized the other man had stopped and promptly froze in the middle of the hallway. His eyes weren’t on Sylar though, but the blonde man grinning at his side.
“Mohinder!” Sylar’s lips curled into a grin at this unexpected but apparently pleasant surprise.
“Adam…” Peter breathed, stunned into motionless.
“Sylar,” Mohinder uttered in a curious mixture of surprise, fear and resignation.
“Peter!” Adam practically laughed the name. “What a fitting place for our reunion!”
Peter couldn’t bring himself to respond. True, it had been in the basement cells of this very building that he had met the immortal mad-man, but it was more recent events currently smoldering in his consciousness.
Mohinder’s hands clenched even tighter onto the grip of his gun. He didn’t bother to raise it; he already knew how futile it was. Maybe if Peter could distract Sylar enough… but with Peter as drained as he was, Mohinder realized that his life was in the hands of a man that might even not be able to save his own normally indestructible skin this time.
Shaking minutely in a combination of anger and fatigue, Peter glared at Adam with the most venomous expression Mohinder had ever seen on the man. Even Sylar, facing off against him at Kirby plaza, hadn’t been on the receiving end of such utter hatred. He acted much faster than Mohinder would have expected possible at this point, flinging his right arm out and sending not just one small blast of electricity, but a steady stream right at Adam’s chest. Adam got his arms up just in time to catch the brunt of the blast, but was soon letting out a ragged scream as the flesh on his forearms charred beyond all recognition.
Sylar rolled his eyes and raised a hand, flicking his fingers and sending Peter slamming back into the wall.
The cover provided by the flashing light of arcing electricity, cutting a swath between Mohinder and Sylar, seemed like the best chance Mohinder was likely to get. He raised the gun without really thinking about it; pointing it in the place he had last seen Sylar’s head. When Peter went flying backwards and the arc of light vanished, Mohinder waited only long enough to get a glimpse of that haunting face before squeezing off two shots in rapid succession. Not seeing it coming, while using his powers to attack Peter, it might be the only way.
For one bright, hopeful moment Mohinder held his breath while the smoke cleared.
Two points, one on either side of Mohinder’s neck erupted in stinging, burning pain as the two bullets he’d fired grazed the sensitive flesh before becoming embedded in the concrete walls behind him. A reflexive hiss of pain burst from his lips before he was lifted off his feet and shoved backwards into the wall next to Peter, gun ripped from his weakened grip.
Mohinder’s breath froze in his chest at the expression Sylar turned towards him. He wondered briefly why the warning shot rather than a killing blow, but didn’t have time to follow that thought process any further.
“I really would have thought you’d learned your lesson by now, Mohinder.” Sylar chided with a slightly disbelieving shake of his head. He was just opening his mouth to say more when a group of security guards armed with rifles charged in from behind.
Sylar turned casually to swat at the annoying pests, and Peter seized on the momentary distraction. Trying not to look at Adam’s rapidly healing form, Peter seized a hold of Mohinder’s wrist and tugged him backwards through the wall.
---
Sylar dispatched the guards with a few quick flicks of his wrist and turned back just in time to see Mohinder’s feet vanish through a solid wall of concrete. He cursed lightly, but the two had only moved deeper into the building and from what he could hear of their slightly breathless conversation, Petrelli had only barely managed that last escape. It should be easy enough to corner them again.
Sylar was pondering the merits of merely blasting a hole in the wall when Adam abruptly reminded him of his presence with an annoyed sigh.
“Of course he’d use Elle’s power against me,” he muttered absently.
Sylar raised an eyebrow and watched with rapt attention as the last of Adam’s charred flesh was restored normal state. He was definitely going to have to either end his little deal with Monroe soon, or track down the Bennett girl again.
“Seems handy,” Sylar observed evenly. “You’ll have to introduce me to this Elle.”
Adam laughed dryly at that.
“Oh she should be around here somewhere,” he replied as he shucked his coat. The sleeves were charred to tatters; no point in hanging on to it. “She’ll either be sent after us, or she’ll be guarding her father. Either way, I’m sure you’ll have your hands on her ability soon enough.”
A lazy grin stole over Sylar’s features as Adam brushed himself off.
“So,” Adam continued lightly. “I take it you’re acquainted with that rather dashing young man accompanying Peter?”
Sylar leveled a threatening glare at Monroe. It was bad enough seeing Mohinder playing buddy-buddy with Petrelli; if his immortal ally wanted to keep living his long life he had damn well better keep his eyes off Suresh. Adam twitched slightly at the violent look before raising his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Ok, I get it. Property of Sylar, hands off.” He acquiesced good-naturedly. Adam was still learning just how far he could push the serial killer, but there were certain things that instantly flashed red warning lights at him. “We going after them or continuing on?”
Sylar listened intently for a moment before running the building plans through his perfect memory once more.
“Both,” he replied with a feral grin.
“Sounds good to me,” Adam chimed in, picking up one of the guards’ rifles and cocking it. “After you.”
---
Mohinder blinked in surprise at the ceiling. He lay sprawled out on the floor, dazed and confused, and grounded only by Peter’s continued light grip on his wrist. He gazed at the concrete wall that he had just passed through and shuddered. That had to be one of the strangest feelings ever.
Peter released his wrist, panting as both men made their shaky way back to their feet.
“That’s a new one,” Mohinder commented stupidly, his eyes still fixed warily on the wall. It wasn’t every day you phased right through a foot of concrete, plumbing and electrical wiring.
“Ya,” Peter replied softly, “Real handy for escaping.”
Mohinder shuddered at the thought of the man on the other side of the wall and took in their surroundings, trying to orient himself. They were in an office that looked like it had been empty for quite some time.
“We need to get moving,” Mohinder asserted as he moved towards the door, tugging on Peter’s sleeve to urge him into action. “Sylar might not have that particular ability, but there’s nothing stopping him from blowing that wall to pieces.”
Peter’s gaze flickered back to the wall for a moment before he nodded in agreement.
“Do you think you could use that trick to get us out of the building any faster?” Mohinder inquired as he unlocked the door and peered into a darkened hallway. Apparently this part of the building wasn’t in use at the moment. “I don’t know what they’re after, but I’d rather not stick around to find out.”
Peter shook his head with a look of regret mingled with embarrassment.
“I barely got us through that wall,” he replied apologetically. “I was already exhausted before Sylar rattle my brains. If I couldn’t heal I don’t think I’d be seeing straight right now… Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t get stuck halfway through.”
“Well that’s a comforting thought,” Mohinder intoned sarcastically before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Ok, well I lost my gun back there. The alarms must have been about them though, so if you can still go invisible I think we can blend in. No one should be paying too much attention to us with Sylar in the building.”
Mohinder’s innate curiosity urged him to ask about Adam, who he had only heard of in vague mentions before from both Peter and Bob. Knowing his motivation might help figure out where he and Sylar might be headed, but the fury and anguish that Peter had displayed made Mohinder hold his tongue. The information might be useful, but an emotionally distressed Peter was an all but useless and possibly even dangerous Peter. Right now it just wasn’t worth the risk.
“Ready?”
Peter took a deep, calming breath, and vanished from sight. He flickered in Mohinder’s vision a couple times before finally settling completely. It definitely wasn’t a good sign. Invisibility was the ability Peter had the best control over. Micah had said that using his ability for an extended period of time was mentally exhausting, but they hadn’t expected it to be anywhere near this bad.
Struggling to control what was a rapidly growing feeling of panic, Mohinder pulled himself together and led the way. Their choice of routes was extremely limited and he tried not to think too hard on what that meant in terms of avoiding Sylar. It was a miracle they had escaped the first time.
---
Sylar dispatched another wave of security with a wave of his arm and glanced towards his partner in crime.
Adam watched the last of the guards that had tried to catch them in a pincer collapse to the ground with a bullet through his brain. The gun he’d picked up was out of ammo and he tossed it to the ground disdainfully.
“Such pathetic weapons,” he intoned. “I much preferred my katana. We really must track Hiro down after this.”
“You can find a perfectly good sword anywhere you know,” Sylar drawled derisively. “Not that I don’t plan on ripping his head open at the first available opportunity.”
Adam glanced towards Sylar with an unreadable expression.
“It was my sword first…” he muttered softly. Adam had still felt the sting of that betrayal even four hundred years later, but it was memories of being trapped in a coffin that surfaced with disturbing strength.
“Whatever.” All business, Sylar continued down the hallway for several meters before coming to a halt. An absent, distracted look washed over his features; it was a view Adam had come to associate with Sylar focusing on his oh-so useful hearing.
Sylar raised a hand and placed it flat against one of the many endlessly bland concrete walls. He frowned, his brow crinkling in intense concentration. After a few moments he seemed to come to a decision and took several steps backwards. He kept his hand flat at the same level but pulled it back to his chest until he was on the opposite side of the hallway.
Adam took a judicious step backwards. Just because whatever Sylar was planning couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean he would enjoy getting hurt if this turned out to be particularly explosive.
Sylar took in a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. In one smooth motion he thrust his hand forward and a massive section of wall shattered and blew inward. The rolling avalanche of thunderous noise heralded the collapse of massive amounts of concrete and other detritus. The sound of crumbling walls and quite possibly ceilings echoed through the hall and Sylar grinned.
“And the point of that was?” Adam asked curiously as the dust began to settle. He peered into the opening expecting to see a path opened for them, but instead found only a massive pile of rubble.
Sylar smirked and turned to continue in the direction they had initially been headed.
“They’ve only got one way out now.”
---
Mohinder strode swiftly down one identical hallway after another. So far they’d passed by two security teams who had paid Mohinder no attention and failed to notice the invisible man on his heels. The area they were in now was deserted, and Mohinder concentrated on remembering which direction in the upcoming T-junction would get them out of the building first.
The right led to the main entrance, and Bob’s office. It was a place they’d want to avoid if at all possible. The left, if he recalled correctly, would lead them to an emergency exit through which they could escape undetected. There were no signs of destruction at this end of the building. Sylar and Adam must have come in through one of the rear or side entrances. That or they simply blew a hole in a wall, with Sylar anything was possible
They were nearly at the fork in the road when the entire building began to shake. A roar of sound not unlike the rolling of thunder echoed and bounced through the corridor, followed by a rain detritus and a billowing of dust. Mohinder set his jaw in anger and frustration as they rounded the corner and stared in what was once the direction of his preferred exit.
The corridor was destroyed and completely walled off by a mound of debris.
“Shit,” Mohinder bit out ineloquently.
“I take it we were heading that way?” Peter’s disembodied voice inquired.
Mohinder nodded with a sigh, “I don’t suppose you’ve recovered enough to teleport or phase through a wall, even just yourself?”
“I’m not leaving you Mohinder.” Peter blinked into visibility with a frown on his face. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because I think we’re being funneled into a trap.” Mohinder admitted in frustration. “There’s only one way for us to get out now, and I’m sure it’s the same way they’re headed…”
“Even more reason I won’t leave you,” Peter returned decisively. Mohinder knew that tone of voice. Peter could be inordinately stubborn when he chose to be and it would take much more time than either of them had for Mohinder to convince him otherwise. “So what’s Plan B?”
Mohinder glanced longingly at the now blocked off hallway, before turning to face the open one, setting his shoulders in determination.
“We run.”
---
Heart pounding, lungs burning, legs aching; Mohinder pushed his body to its limits and beyond. Peter had given up all attempts at invisibility; the hallways were all but deserted now anyway. Even still, his stamina wasn’t what it should be and his continued stumbling had prompted Mohinder to clamp onto Peter’s arm and practically drag him along.
One foot in front of the other, keep breathing, try not to think about what might be waiting ahead. Heavy head, follow the line of the tiles - don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.
Adrenaline rushed through him, keeping the pain at bay, sharpening the senses. Not enough as his footing slipped, ankle turning, body flying out of control, crashing to the ground - alone.
He skidded bodily across waxed tiles, stopping only when rough cement sprang up before him, its coarse texture biting at the soft flesh of his cheek. Mohinder struggled to right himself, to push past the disorientation and find Peter; but the moment he rediscovered which way was up, and began his journey in that direction, he was pressed back against the chilled floor with intangible hands that were at once impersonal and yet all too intimately familiar.
Booted feet filled his field of vision, and Mohinder could practically hear Sylar’s lips twitching into a sadistic grin.
“Caught you!”
---
Adam watched with enforced dispassion as Sylar’s powers seized hold of Peter and flung him into a wall so hard that a part of his head caved in, blood splattering across the paint like some kind of twisted modern art. He still found himself drawn to the boy, despite having aquired a much more competent replacement. Peter had stopped the virus from getting out; he must have, there was really no other explanation. Adam had known it would be a possibility, if Peter ever learned the truth, but that made the reality no less frustrating.
“With his abilities, he should have put up a much better fight.” Sylar’s voice ghosted over Adam’s shoulder, shaking him from his reverie. He noted, briefly, that Peter’s companion was unconscious before shrugging.
“You’ve already made your opinion of Peter quite clear to me.” Adam replied tiredly. Sylar had a serious hatred of the boy; that much had been evident when Adam first spoke his name.
“No, you’re missing the point.” Sylar continued with a marked lack of patience. “He may be pathetic, but the other times I’ve fought him he’s at least posed a bit of a challenge. Something already exhausted him; we should find out what they were up to.”
“Indeed…”
---
AN: That's it folks, sorry. All I can offer you is the note I wrote to partially to myself, and partially to ladywilde80 in despair when I realized I didn't know where to go next: "This next scene involved a tied up and drugged Peter, Mo on Bob's leather couch and Sylar being evil, but it'll never be written because I have nowhere to go with it!!!" I have spared you the capslocks and emotes of despair.
Characters/Paring: Adam, Mohinder, Peter, Sylar - various permutations therein.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: It's post S2.
Warnings: Violence. Unfinished.
Word Count: 3000+
Summary: Peter and Mohinder are fleeing the Company building right when Sylar and Adam decide to storm it.
Notes: This is a WIP that will never be finished, save for some miracle of circumstance. I wrote it around 2 years ago after a comment by levitatethis and the realization that these four needed to be thrown together in this configuration. Unfortunately I was writing from a premise with no ending in mind and 9 pages later I just didn't know where to go with it. Now that I'm pretty much done with Heroes, I've decided to throw my better WIPs out there in case anyone might enjoy them. Better than wallowing on my hard drive forever unseen.
-----
“How much longer?” Mohinder inquired with more than a little anxiety laced in his voice.
“Just… almost there.” Peter replied in an almost pained tone. He’d never used Micah’s power to this extent before and it was putting a serious strain on his mental faculties. “Almost… got it…”
Mohinder peered out of the room’s one window to check the hallway once more. Sweaty palms gripped tight onto the gun in his hand as he confirmed that they were still, for the moment, alone. He hated the heavy thing, but Peter was all but useless while he was immersed in deep conversation with the Company’s computer.
They were finally putting an end to this madness, or at least Mohinder’s role in it. Staying undercover had gotten far too dangerous of late and helping Peter get in undetected to access the Company’s databanks was his last move as a spy. Peter was downloading everything they needed to a portable hard drive, and then he was going to destroy it all. They might not be willing to commit the acts of murder and destruction that would have been necessary to decimate the Company physically, but between this and destroying the few caches of backups they’d be putting the Company back decades; not to mention protecting the large number of individuals who the Company had bagged and tagged and kept on record.
Peter sucked in a deep breath, audible even from Mohinder’s position on the other side of the room. His hand flew off of the rack of servers as if burned and he stumbled back a step.
“That’s it. It’s done.” He declared with a weak smile. “Now let’s get out of here before they realize what happened.”
Mohinder returned Peter’s smile with a relieved one of his own. They still had to get back out again (Peter didn’t trust his teleportation at the best of times and they’d known he’d be exhausted when he was finished) but even if they were stopped now, they’d still have accomplished something major.
Peter disconnected the portable hard drive stuffed it into Mohinder’s shoulder bag. Peter slipped it over his head and jogged lightly up to Mohinder’s side.
“Ready?” Mohinder asked, eyeing his exhausted friend warily.
“Ya,” Peter returned with determination. “Let’s go.”
Peter slipped into invisibility and Mohinder holstered his gun, trusting his flowing lab coat to keep it hidden from the casual observer. Even then, it wasn’t uncommon for Company members to be carrying guns. As long as he wasn’t spotted by anyone who knew otherwise, no one would think there was anything wrong with him having it on his person.
The pair slipped into the hall, Peter right on Mohinder’s heels. They made it about halfway towards the exit before the alarms started blaring.
“Shit,” Peter cursed, slipping back into visibility as the lights flashed at ear-splitting sirens echoed through the hallways. “I was sure they wouldn’t figure it out until we were gone.”
“Come on, this way,” Mohinder urged. He took off at a jog, pulling out his gun and abandoning all pretense.
It didn’t even occur to the two men that the alarms might not be ringing because of them. Not until they rounded a corner and laid eyes on a pair of faces that neither man had ever wanted to see again.
Mohinder’s first instinct was to backpedal: to duck back around the corner and pray that he hadn’t been seen. Even if Sylar hadn’t spotted him the instant he came into sight, Peter overtook Mohinder before he realized the other man had stopped and promptly froze in the middle of the hallway. His eyes weren’t on Sylar though, but the blonde man grinning at his side.
“Mohinder!” Sylar’s lips curled into a grin at this unexpected but apparently pleasant surprise.
“Adam…” Peter breathed, stunned into motionless.
“Sylar,” Mohinder uttered in a curious mixture of surprise, fear and resignation.
“Peter!” Adam practically laughed the name. “What a fitting place for our reunion!”
Peter couldn’t bring himself to respond. True, it had been in the basement cells of this very building that he had met the immortal mad-man, but it was more recent events currently smoldering in his consciousness.
Mohinder’s hands clenched even tighter onto the grip of his gun. He didn’t bother to raise it; he already knew how futile it was. Maybe if Peter could distract Sylar enough… but with Peter as drained as he was, Mohinder realized that his life was in the hands of a man that might even not be able to save his own normally indestructible skin this time.
Shaking minutely in a combination of anger and fatigue, Peter glared at Adam with the most venomous expression Mohinder had ever seen on the man. Even Sylar, facing off against him at Kirby plaza, hadn’t been on the receiving end of such utter hatred. He acted much faster than Mohinder would have expected possible at this point, flinging his right arm out and sending not just one small blast of electricity, but a steady stream right at Adam’s chest. Adam got his arms up just in time to catch the brunt of the blast, but was soon letting out a ragged scream as the flesh on his forearms charred beyond all recognition.
Sylar rolled his eyes and raised a hand, flicking his fingers and sending Peter slamming back into the wall.
The cover provided by the flashing light of arcing electricity, cutting a swath between Mohinder and Sylar, seemed like the best chance Mohinder was likely to get. He raised the gun without really thinking about it; pointing it in the place he had last seen Sylar’s head. When Peter went flying backwards and the arc of light vanished, Mohinder waited only long enough to get a glimpse of that haunting face before squeezing off two shots in rapid succession. Not seeing it coming, while using his powers to attack Peter, it might be the only way.
For one bright, hopeful moment Mohinder held his breath while the smoke cleared.
Two points, one on either side of Mohinder’s neck erupted in stinging, burning pain as the two bullets he’d fired grazed the sensitive flesh before becoming embedded in the concrete walls behind him. A reflexive hiss of pain burst from his lips before he was lifted off his feet and shoved backwards into the wall next to Peter, gun ripped from his weakened grip.
Mohinder’s breath froze in his chest at the expression Sylar turned towards him. He wondered briefly why the warning shot rather than a killing blow, but didn’t have time to follow that thought process any further.
“I really would have thought you’d learned your lesson by now, Mohinder.” Sylar chided with a slightly disbelieving shake of his head. He was just opening his mouth to say more when a group of security guards armed with rifles charged in from behind.
Sylar turned casually to swat at the annoying pests, and Peter seized on the momentary distraction. Trying not to look at Adam’s rapidly healing form, Peter seized a hold of Mohinder’s wrist and tugged him backwards through the wall.
---
Sylar dispatched the guards with a few quick flicks of his wrist and turned back just in time to see Mohinder’s feet vanish through a solid wall of concrete. He cursed lightly, but the two had only moved deeper into the building and from what he could hear of their slightly breathless conversation, Petrelli had only barely managed that last escape. It should be easy enough to corner them again.
Sylar was pondering the merits of merely blasting a hole in the wall when Adam abruptly reminded him of his presence with an annoyed sigh.
“Of course he’d use Elle’s power against me,” he muttered absently.
Sylar raised an eyebrow and watched with rapt attention as the last of Adam’s charred flesh was restored normal state. He was definitely going to have to either end his little deal with Monroe soon, or track down the Bennett girl again.
“Seems handy,” Sylar observed evenly. “You’ll have to introduce me to this Elle.”
Adam laughed dryly at that.
“Oh she should be around here somewhere,” he replied as he shucked his coat. The sleeves were charred to tatters; no point in hanging on to it. “She’ll either be sent after us, or she’ll be guarding her father. Either way, I’m sure you’ll have your hands on her ability soon enough.”
A lazy grin stole over Sylar’s features as Adam brushed himself off.
“So,” Adam continued lightly. “I take it you’re acquainted with that rather dashing young man accompanying Peter?”
Sylar leveled a threatening glare at Monroe. It was bad enough seeing Mohinder playing buddy-buddy with Petrelli; if his immortal ally wanted to keep living his long life he had damn well better keep his eyes off Suresh. Adam twitched slightly at the violent look before raising his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Ok, I get it. Property of Sylar, hands off.” He acquiesced good-naturedly. Adam was still learning just how far he could push the serial killer, but there were certain things that instantly flashed red warning lights at him. “We going after them or continuing on?”
Sylar listened intently for a moment before running the building plans through his perfect memory once more.
“Both,” he replied with a feral grin.
“Sounds good to me,” Adam chimed in, picking up one of the guards’ rifles and cocking it. “After you.”
---
Mohinder blinked in surprise at the ceiling. He lay sprawled out on the floor, dazed and confused, and grounded only by Peter’s continued light grip on his wrist. He gazed at the concrete wall that he had just passed through and shuddered. That had to be one of the strangest feelings ever.
Peter released his wrist, panting as both men made their shaky way back to their feet.
“That’s a new one,” Mohinder commented stupidly, his eyes still fixed warily on the wall. It wasn’t every day you phased right through a foot of concrete, plumbing and electrical wiring.
“Ya,” Peter replied softly, “Real handy for escaping.”
Mohinder shuddered at the thought of the man on the other side of the wall and took in their surroundings, trying to orient himself. They were in an office that looked like it had been empty for quite some time.
“We need to get moving,” Mohinder asserted as he moved towards the door, tugging on Peter’s sleeve to urge him into action. “Sylar might not have that particular ability, but there’s nothing stopping him from blowing that wall to pieces.”
Peter’s gaze flickered back to the wall for a moment before he nodded in agreement.
“Do you think you could use that trick to get us out of the building any faster?” Mohinder inquired as he unlocked the door and peered into a darkened hallway. Apparently this part of the building wasn’t in use at the moment. “I don’t know what they’re after, but I’d rather not stick around to find out.”
Peter shook his head with a look of regret mingled with embarrassment.
“I barely got us through that wall,” he replied apologetically. “I was already exhausted before Sylar rattle my brains. If I couldn’t heal I don’t think I’d be seeing straight right now… Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t get stuck halfway through.”
“Well that’s a comforting thought,” Mohinder intoned sarcastically before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Ok, well I lost my gun back there. The alarms must have been about them though, so if you can still go invisible I think we can blend in. No one should be paying too much attention to us with Sylar in the building.”
Mohinder’s innate curiosity urged him to ask about Adam, who he had only heard of in vague mentions before from both Peter and Bob. Knowing his motivation might help figure out where he and Sylar might be headed, but the fury and anguish that Peter had displayed made Mohinder hold his tongue. The information might be useful, but an emotionally distressed Peter was an all but useless and possibly even dangerous Peter. Right now it just wasn’t worth the risk.
“Ready?”
Peter took a deep, calming breath, and vanished from sight. He flickered in Mohinder’s vision a couple times before finally settling completely. It definitely wasn’t a good sign. Invisibility was the ability Peter had the best control over. Micah had said that using his ability for an extended period of time was mentally exhausting, but they hadn’t expected it to be anywhere near this bad.
Struggling to control what was a rapidly growing feeling of panic, Mohinder pulled himself together and led the way. Their choice of routes was extremely limited and he tried not to think too hard on what that meant in terms of avoiding Sylar. It was a miracle they had escaped the first time.
---
Sylar dispatched another wave of security with a wave of his arm and glanced towards his partner in crime.
Adam watched the last of the guards that had tried to catch them in a pincer collapse to the ground with a bullet through his brain. The gun he’d picked up was out of ammo and he tossed it to the ground disdainfully.
“Such pathetic weapons,” he intoned. “I much preferred my katana. We really must track Hiro down after this.”
“You can find a perfectly good sword anywhere you know,” Sylar drawled derisively. “Not that I don’t plan on ripping his head open at the first available opportunity.”
Adam glanced towards Sylar with an unreadable expression.
“It was my sword first…” he muttered softly. Adam had still felt the sting of that betrayal even four hundred years later, but it was memories of being trapped in a coffin that surfaced with disturbing strength.
“Whatever.” All business, Sylar continued down the hallway for several meters before coming to a halt. An absent, distracted look washed over his features; it was a view Adam had come to associate with Sylar focusing on his oh-so useful hearing.
Sylar raised a hand and placed it flat against one of the many endlessly bland concrete walls. He frowned, his brow crinkling in intense concentration. After a few moments he seemed to come to a decision and took several steps backwards. He kept his hand flat at the same level but pulled it back to his chest until he was on the opposite side of the hallway.
Adam took a judicious step backwards. Just because whatever Sylar was planning couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean he would enjoy getting hurt if this turned out to be particularly explosive.
Sylar took in a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. In one smooth motion he thrust his hand forward and a massive section of wall shattered and blew inward. The rolling avalanche of thunderous noise heralded the collapse of massive amounts of concrete and other detritus. The sound of crumbling walls and quite possibly ceilings echoed through the hall and Sylar grinned.
“And the point of that was?” Adam asked curiously as the dust began to settle. He peered into the opening expecting to see a path opened for them, but instead found only a massive pile of rubble.
Sylar smirked and turned to continue in the direction they had initially been headed.
“They’ve only got one way out now.”
---
Mohinder strode swiftly down one identical hallway after another. So far they’d passed by two security teams who had paid Mohinder no attention and failed to notice the invisible man on his heels. The area they were in now was deserted, and Mohinder concentrated on remembering which direction in the upcoming T-junction would get them out of the building first.
The right led to the main entrance, and Bob’s office. It was a place they’d want to avoid if at all possible. The left, if he recalled correctly, would lead them to an emergency exit through which they could escape undetected. There were no signs of destruction at this end of the building. Sylar and Adam must have come in through one of the rear or side entrances. That or they simply blew a hole in a wall, with Sylar anything was possible
They were nearly at the fork in the road when the entire building began to shake. A roar of sound not unlike the rolling of thunder echoed and bounced through the corridor, followed by a rain detritus and a billowing of dust. Mohinder set his jaw in anger and frustration as they rounded the corner and stared in what was once the direction of his preferred exit.
The corridor was destroyed and completely walled off by a mound of debris.
“Shit,” Mohinder bit out ineloquently.
“I take it we were heading that way?” Peter’s disembodied voice inquired.
Mohinder nodded with a sigh, “I don’t suppose you’ve recovered enough to teleport or phase through a wall, even just yourself?”
“I’m not leaving you Mohinder.” Peter blinked into visibility with a frown on his face. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because I think we’re being funneled into a trap.” Mohinder admitted in frustration. “There’s only one way for us to get out now, and I’m sure it’s the same way they’re headed…”
“Even more reason I won’t leave you,” Peter returned decisively. Mohinder knew that tone of voice. Peter could be inordinately stubborn when he chose to be and it would take much more time than either of them had for Mohinder to convince him otherwise. “So what’s Plan B?”
Mohinder glanced longingly at the now blocked off hallway, before turning to face the open one, setting his shoulders in determination.
“We run.”
---
Heart pounding, lungs burning, legs aching; Mohinder pushed his body to its limits and beyond. Peter had given up all attempts at invisibility; the hallways were all but deserted now anyway. Even still, his stamina wasn’t what it should be and his continued stumbling had prompted Mohinder to clamp onto Peter’s arm and practically drag him along.
One foot in front of the other, keep breathing, try not to think about what might be waiting ahead. Heavy head, follow the line of the tiles - don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.
Adrenaline rushed through him, keeping the pain at bay, sharpening the senses. Not enough as his footing slipped, ankle turning, body flying out of control, crashing to the ground - alone.
He skidded bodily across waxed tiles, stopping only when rough cement sprang up before him, its coarse texture biting at the soft flesh of his cheek. Mohinder struggled to right himself, to push past the disorientation and find Peter; but the moment he rediscovered which way was up, and began his journey in that direction, he was pressed back against the chilled floor with intangible hands that were at once impersonal and yet all too intimately familiar.
Booted feet filled his field of vision, and Mohinder could practically hear Sylar’s lips twitching into a sadistic grin.
“Caught you!”
---
Adam watched with enforced dispassion as Sylar’s powers seized hold of Peter and flung him into a wall so hard that a part of his head caved in, blood splattering across the paint like some kind of twisted modern art. He still found himself drawn to the boy, despite having aquired a much more competent replacement. Peter had stopped the virus from getting out; he must have, there was really no other explanation. Adam had known it would be a possibility, if Peter ever learned the truth, but that made the reality no less frustrating.
“With his abilities, he should have put up a much better fight.” Sylar’s voice ghosted over Adam’s shoulder, shaking him from his reverie. He noted, briefly, that Peter’s companion was unconscious before shrugging.
“You’ve already made your opinion of Peter quite clear to me.” Adam replied tiredly. Sylar had a serious hatred of the boy; that much had been evident when Adam first spoke his name.
“No, you’re missing the point.” Sylar continued with a marked lack of patience. “He may be pathetic, but the other times I’ve fought him he’s at least posed a bit of a challenge. Something already exhausted him; we should find out what they were up to.”
“Indeed…”
---
AN: That's it folks, sorry. All I can offer you is the note I wrote to partially to myself, and partially to ladywilde80 in despair when I realized I didn't know where to go next: "This next scene involved a tied up and drugged Peter, Mo on Bob's leather couch and Sylar being evil, but it'll never be written because I have nowhere to go with it!!!" I have spared you the capslocks and emotes of despair.