A Chance Encounter - Heroes - Gen (Mohinder)
Title: A Chance Encounter
Characters: Mohinder, Hiro, Maya
Word Count: 2715
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for the 25_streetsigns 'Dip' prompt and varietypack100's 'Middles'.
Summary: Mohinder and Maya have been searching for Sylar for what feels like years; it takes an encounter with another hero to raise their spirits again.
Their shoulders have slumped and Mohinder can feel a steady, solid ache rooting its way throughout his muscles. His eyes burn, ache and long for rest - but he knows it won't come. Maya sleeps in the passenger seat beside him, with her head slumped against the seatbelt for support. Her clothes are creased and her black hair is tangled.
He supposes that he isn't in a better state himself. The road they're on is endless and constantly shifting. Sylar won't stay still - he must know who it is that's hunting him.
They won't give up, and Sylar will have to rest some time soon. That's all it will take. One rest, one stop, one break, then they've got him. Then this can all be over. Yet 'then' is not 'now', so for the time being they keep driving. His palms are sweaty as he clings to the wheel and the sun outside pours through the car windows.
Maya stirs as she begins to surface from her uncomfortable slumber. "Ah, you're awake," Mohinder says. He has to admit that he's happy to have an ally on this trip: left alone, the hours spent in this car would feel even longer, and Maya is not bad company. The need for vengeance burns deep within her heart as well as his. It's good to know that he's not alone, especially when he remembers the scorn in Matt's eyes when he told him of his and Maya's plan.
"Fine," Matt had snapped. "I'm sure that's exactly what Molly needs right now - someone else disappearing."
The words had stabbed deep, but Mohinder stands by his decision. What Molly needs is to be safe, and for her bogeyman to be dealt with - he can't do that if he's hiding with her in New York like a placid sitting duck. Action is needed. Sylar has to be stopped; he and Maya are the ones to do it.
*
It's been over a month. He misses Molly so badly that at times he can't sleep. He wants to phone her up at antisocial hours in the morning even though he knows she'll have school the next day just so that he can hear her voice and wish her sweet dreams. He never does - he'll only stare at the phone wistfully for sleepless hours and imagine a time when this is over and Sylar is gone and the world is safe.
"It's a suicide mission," Bennet had informed him when he'd told the man of his plans. At the time, he hadn't realised that it would be his soul that was extinguished long before his body.
"I know," he'd said at the time, "But it's something I have to do."
It isn't about his father any more. It isn't a son avenging his father's death; he's just trying to do what's right. He's just trying to make the world a little safer in any way he can. If the future Molly grows into is one without Sylar, then it can only be all the brighter.
The hotel bed he's lying on feels as if it's stuffed with rocks. They can only have another hour or two before they have to leave and get on the road again. Tomorrow will be a tiring day - they all are.
In the darkness, Maya stirs. "Mohinder?" she whispers, the syllables tripping over each other in her sleep-slurred accent. "Are you awake?"
I'm always awake, he wants to reply, but he bites it back. No need to sound bitter. "Can't sleep."
"I cannot either."
She doesn't say anything after that, so he listens to the sound of her heavy breathing instead as the minutes waste helplessly away. When their alarm shrieks at six a.m. he gets out of bed with the pace of a tired old man. Another day's driving ahead of him. He's past the point where he can see an end to this.
*
The man in front of him in the queue seems to sparkle with an exhausting amount of energy. He speaks with a speed that would put lightning to shame as the cashier in front of him nods distractedly and doesn't appear to pay attention to him at all. Instead the young teenager shuffles through the monotonous routine behind his cash register, barely glancing up at the Japanese tourist for any longer than he has to.
Mohinder for his part remains in his own thoughts. He has a packet of takeaway sandwiches in his hand along with two bottles of water: lunch. He wonders if he and Maya can afford to stop here in the sunshine to eat it, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it forms. There's no such thing as spare time for them. Even one wasted second puts Sylar further out of their reach.
When the short man turns to leave with his purchases, he freezes on the spot upon seeing Mohinder behind him: his mouth gapes open a crack and his eyes are wide. There's intense recognition on his face, the kind that makes an uncomfortable shiver run down Mohinder's spine as he wonders who on Earth this man is - and, more importantly, if he's dangerous.
"Doctor?" he asks, in a heavily accented voice. Definitely not American: a foreigner like Mohinder, lost far from home. "Doctor Suresh?!"
He's learnt to be naturally cautious of people who know his name: but that was what brought Maya into his life, more or less, so he tries to force himself to look on the bright side. Optimism Maya's forte, not his own.
"Pardon?" he says, though he knows he hasn't misheard. He needs to buy himself time.
"Doctor Suresh! I know you!" the stranger exclaims. His eyes shine - he seems like someone that naturally wakes up bright and cheerful every morning, springing out of bed without a problem. "You saved my life."
Mohinder is certain that he would remember something like that. "I did?" he asks.
"Yes. In future."
"In the future I saved your life?" Mohinder repeats. The tenses are bothering him and his mind aches from this chance encounter. The cashier is watching them with annoyance; they're holding up his queue. Even though he knows it's wasting him - Maya is waiting in the car for him to return - Mohinder steps to one side to allow the people behind him to go ahead and joins the back of the queue instead.
The man in front of him nods earnestly and pushes up the set of glasses that rest upon his nose. Despite the excitement that radiates from him, there's a dark undercurrent to it that unsettles Mohinder. It's light shielding dark.
He feels like a fool, but that's been his permanent state of mind ever since his father died. Taking a chance, he recalls Peter Petrelli and asks, "Hiro Nakamura?"
The time traveller's eyes open wider and his mouth gapes in a happy grin. "You know me!"
"I've heard of you, certainly," Mohinder clarifies. Somewhere in the distance he's sure he can hear fate laughing at him. How can this be happening now? Mohinder doesn’t believe in fate and hasn't for a long time, but the weight of the coincidences that keep stacking up within his life is conspicuous. "What are you doing here?"
"Me and friend," Hiro explains, "We are on a mission."
"Really?" Mohinder says. The shorter man is watching him intently; Hiro seems like someone who would believe in fate, in destiny, in everything that Mohinder had to consign to the back of his mind in the name of science such a long time ago. He can't believe that it was his father's 'destiny' to be slaughtered like that in a New York taxi cab. He won't let himself. "I- I suppose I am too."
He can remember Hiro from Kirby Plaza, though he'd never managed to look at the man's face. He'd been too focused on Matt, on Molly, on his family. Matt had been a stranger back then. A lifetime ago. Where has the lifetime taken Hiro?
"We are hunting bad man. Villain," Hiro clarifies.
The man that they're queuing behind looks over his shoulder at them, unable to resist his curiosity. Perhaps this isn't something that they should be discussing in public; perhaps this isn't something that they should be discussing at all, but Mohinder can't bring himself to walk away yet. The hairs on his arms have stood up at the mention of Hiro's hunt. "Sylar?" he asks, sensing a potential ally.
Hiro's face crumbles. "Sylar? No, Sylar is gone." He shakes his head vehemently. "I stabbed him."
"He survived," Mohinder says. He hates to crush anyone's hopes and spoil any delusions, but… Hiro should be careful. He shudders to think what Sylar could do with the ability to stop time, to teleport, to change the past. It's a world-changing power, one that needs to be in the right hands: Mohinder doesn't know Hiro enough to trust him, but he certainly knows Sylar enough to feel sick at the thoughts of how the world would be shaped under his hands. "There was a Company - they didn't let him die. I don't know why."
There are no answers that he can dredge from Bob or even Elle. It's a shut book; he fears what might happen if he digs too far in that direction. Regardless, his ties with the Company have been severed by now. He's of no use to them any more, too far lost in his need for justice to stick to science any more.
"But…" Hiro's face has creased unhappily as he flounders beside Mohinder, shaking his head. "I stopped him. Changed the future."
"I'm sorry," Mohinder says, shaking his head. "He's back - Maya and I… We're going after him now." He stops to pay for his and Maya's lunch; the cashier seems to be paying attention for the first time since he entered the shop, intently listening in on their bizarre conversation. "Why? If you're not after Sylar, who else is there?"
How many other 'villains' are there to find, to stop? The thought of more than one Sylar in the world- It's horrifying, soul-destroying.
"Adam Monroe," Hiro says. His face darkens again like a storm-cloud and his jaw clenches. The harmless illusion that follows him around seems to fade for that moment, allowing Mohinder to see what lies beneath: a warrior. A 'hero', he supposes. "I thought I stopped him too. I was wrong."
"Ah," Mohinder says, graciously taking the plastic bag from the cashier when it's handed to him. "I see." Though he doesn't, not at all. Adam Monroe isn't a name that means anything to him. He can't say why, he can't explain what's possessed him, but before he can stop himself he's made an offer he really shouldn't have. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
When Hiro's eyes light up in excitement, he knows that he should have kept his mouth shut.
*
As it turns out, 'helping' Hiro is actually extraordinarily easy. They walk to a nearby park, with Maya and Ando tailing behind them and talking awkwardly among themselves, as Hiro explains the state of his mission so far. It sounds depressingly similar to how events have unfolded for Mohinder as well. So many near-misses and mistakes and frustrating failures.
"It is difficult," Hiro confesses as they sit together at a park bench. Mohinder tries to remember his table manners and holds back from simply devouring the lunch they'd brought along. He's starving, but he forces himself to slow down - he's in civil company now. "Sometimes I think I should go back to Japan. I can't find him here."
Mohinder thinks of the cell phone in his pocket: all that it would take to find Hiro's 'villain' for him would be one phone call to Molly, but he hates having to ask her for anything. She deserves to be a normal child - as normal as she can be, in any case. Guilt hangs around his neck every single time he has to ask her to search for Sylar, her own personal bogeyman.
"I'm positive you will," he says with a forced smile. "This 'Adam'. He sounds like someone that needs to be stopped."
"He is."
"Then you have to keep going." Simple as that. People like him, like Hiro… The knowledge they bear means that they can't be like other people. They can't live happy, ignorant lives: 'happy birthdays' and long weekends and late nights watching television and sinking under the covers to sleep for as long as they want… They aren't allowed that luxury; no rest for the wicked, and no rest for those hunting them. "The world needs you." A wry smile decorates Mohinder's face as he says that, but it's true - for both of them.
This realisation feels like a sharp slap. He'd known that stopping Sylar was important, but his reasons had been simplistic. He'd thought that he needed to do this to protect Molly, to avenge his father, but- It's bigger than that, isn't it? So many lives depending on them, so many potential victims to save. It's staggering: it terrifies him, this newly realised responsibility.
"Mohinder?" Maya asks, concerned by his expression. He doesn't think that she's been paying attention to the conversation so far, speaking with Ando instead, but she certainly pays attention to him. Following the death of her brother, it seems to Mohinder that she's latched onto the nearest available substitute - him. "Mohinder, what's wrong?"
If he was more alert, the black that shows in her eyes whenever she worries about him might have caused concern - but he shakes his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It's getting late." It's not, not at all. They've been here for an hour at most and it can't be past three in the afternoon. They need to get moving, he thinks. They're wasting too much time.
"We could stay?" Maya suggests. Hope tinges her voice, the excitement of interacting with new people after being confined to Mohinder for their hunt too much. He can feel that draw too, the need for company and understanding. "We can make up the time tomorrow. Please?"
It's the 'please' that makes him waver, that makes him want to grant her anything she asks for - Ando and Hiro's pleading, puppy dog eyes don't help him to stay strong either. He bites his tongue and sighs. "We have to leave first thing in the morning," he says.
Maya rests against him, her head on his shoulder and her arm giving him a tight squeeze for a split-second. "Thank you," she whispers; she sounds alive and happy for the first time in months. Mohinder smiles at her, awkward and unsure what to do with himself: perhaps there are more important things than their 'mission' after all.
*
He sets the alarm for 4 a.m, and when it pierces through his sleep it's all he can do not to roll over and slam it off. Maya groans as she wakes up. "We could stay," she mumbles, half-asleep. "We could stay with them."
It's tempting: so tempting, and a week ago Mohinder thinks he would have caved. The allure of fresh company is difficult to fight - but meeting Hiro, talking with him, sharing their stories… It's reminded him what a real hero is.
"We have to keep going," he says. "I'm sorry."
They get ready in silence, dressing while it's still dark outside. By now, their morning routine is down to an efficient art, time saved at every corner. Before they leave, Mohinder picks up the paper he'd been writing on last night while on the phone with his family, finally calling in a favour he'd been holding off on: Adam's current alias and location, along with directions that Matt looked up for him. For Hiro - because if heroes don't help each other, who will?
He slips it under the door of the motel room beside their own. His hands feel frosty and he's starving already, but Maya seems cheerful again for once. "Let's go," she says, aiming for the car already.
Mohinder nods and silently says goodbye to the two sleeping men that accidentally stumbled into their meeting - two missions crossing paths - and walks after Maya. They won't stop, they can't: he understands that now.
Characters: Mohinder, Hiro, Maya
Word Count: 2715
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for the 25_streetsigns 'Dip' prompt and varietypack100's 'Middles'.
Summary: Mohinder and Maya have been searching for Sylar for what feels like years; it takes an encounter with another hero to raise their spirits again.
Their shoulders have slumped and Mohinder can feel a steady, solid ache rooting its way throughout his muscles. His eyes burn, ache and long for rest - but he knows it won't come. Maya sleeps in the passenger seat beside him, with her head slumped against the seatbelt for support. Her clothes are creased and her black hair is tangled.
He supposes that he isn't in a better state himself. The road they're on is endless and constantly shifting. Sylar won't stay still - he must know who it is that's hunting him.
They won't give up, and Sylar will have to rest some time soon. That's all it will take. One rest, one stop, one break, then they've got him. Then this can all be over. Yet 'then' is not 'now', so for the time being they keep driving. His palms are sweaty as he clings to the wheel and the sun outside pours through the car windows.
Maya stirs as she begins to surface from her uncomfortable slumber. "Ah, you're awake," Mohinder says. He has to admit that he's happy to have an ally on this trip: left alone, the hours spent in this car would feel even longer, and Maya is not bad company. The need for vengeance burns deep within her heart as well as his. It's good to know that he's not alone, especially when he remembers the scorn in Matt's eyes when he told him of his and Maya's plan.
"Fine," Matt had snapped. "I'm sure that's exactly what Molly needs right now - someone else disappearing."
The words had stabbed deep, but Mohinder stands by his decision. What Molly needs is to be safe, and for her bogeyman to be dealt with - he can't do that if he's hiding with her in New York like a placid sitting duck. Action is needed. Sylar has to be stopped; he and Maya are the ones to do it.
*
It's been over a month. He misses Molly so badly that at times he can't sleep. He wants to phone her up at antisocial hours in the morning even though he knows she'll have school the next day just so that he can hear her voice and wish her sweet dreams. He never does - he'll only stare at the phone wistfully for sleepless hours and imagine a time when this is over and Sylar is gone and the world is safe.
"It's a suicide mission," Bennet had informed him when he'd told the man of his plans. At the time, he hadn't realised that it would be his soul that was extinguished long before his body.
"I know," he'd said at the time, "But it's something I have to do."
It isn't about his father any more. It isn't a son avenging his father's death; he's just trying to do what's right. He's just trying to make the world a little safer in any way he can. If the future Molly grows into is one without Sylar, then it can only be all the brighter.
The hotel bed he's lying on feels as if it's stuffed with rocks. They can only have another hour or two before they have to leave and get on the road again. Tomorrow will be a tiring day - they all are.
In the darkness, Maya stirs. "Mohinder?" she whispers, the syllables tripping over each other in her sleep-slurred accent. "Are you awake?"
I'm always awake, he wants to reply, but he bites it back. No need to sound bitter. "Can't sleep."
"I cannot either."
She doesn't say anything after that, so he listens to the sound of her heavy breathing instead as the minutes waste helplessly away. When their alarm shrieks at six a.m. he gets out of bed with the pace of a tired old man. Another day's driving ahead of him. He's past the point where he can see an end to this.
*
The man in front of him in the queue seems to sparkle with an exhausting amount of energy. He speaks with a speed that would put lightning to shame as the cashier in front of him nods distractedly and doesn't appear to pay attention to him at all. Instead the young teenager shuffles through the monotonous routine behind his cash register, barely glancing up at the Japanese tourist for any longer than he has to.
Mohinder for his part remains in his own thoughts. He has a packet of takeaway sandwiches in his hand along with two bottles of water: lunch. He wonders if he and Maya can afford to stop here in the sunshine to eat it, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it forms. There's no such thing as spare time for them. Even one wasted second puts Sylar further out of their reach.
When the short man turns to leave with his purchases, he freezes on the spot upon seeing Mohinder behind him: his mouth gapes open a crack and his eyes are wide. There's intense recognition on his face, the kind that makes an uncomfortable shiver run down Mohinder's spine as he wonders who on Earth this man is - and, more importantly, if he's dangerous.
"Doctor?" he asks, in a heavily accented voice. Definitely not American: a foreigner like Mohinder, lost far from home. "Doctor Suresh?!"
He's learnt to be naturally cautious of people who know his name: but that was what brought Maya into his life, more or less, so he tries to force himself to look on the bright side. Optimism Maya's forte, not his own.
"Pardon?" he says, though he knows he hasn't misheard. He needs to buy himself time.
"Doctor Suresh! I know you!" the stranger exclaims. His eyes shine - he seems like someone that naturally wakes up bright and cheerful every morning, springing out of bed without a problem. "You saved my life."
Mohinder is certain that he would remember something like that. "I did?" he asks.
"Yes. In future."
"In the future I saved your life?" Mohinder repeats. The tenses are bothering him and his mind aches from this chance encounter. The cashier is watching them with annoyance; they're holding up his queue. Even though he knows it's wasting him - Maya is waiting in the car for him to return - Mohinder steps to one side to allow the people behind him to go ahead and joins the back of the queue instead.
The man in front of him nods earnestly and pushes up the set of glasses that rest upon his nose. Despite the excitement that radiates from him, there's a dark undercurrent to it that unsettles Mohinder. It's light shielding dark.
He feels like a fool, but that's been his permanent state of mind ever since his father died. Taking a chance, he recalls Peter Petrelli and asks, "Hiro Nakamura?"
The time traveller's eyes open wider and his mouth gapes in a happy grin. "You know me!"
"I've heard of you, certainly," Mohinder clarifies. Somewhere in the distance he's sure he can hear fate laughing at him. How can this be happening now? Mohinder doesn’t believe in fate and hasn't for a long time, but the weight of the coincidences that keep stacking up within his life is conspicuous. "What are you doing here?"
"Me and friend," Hiro explains, "We are on a mission."
"Really?" Mohinder says. The shorter man is watching him intently; Hiro seems like someone who would believe in fate, in destiny, in everything that Mohinder had to consign to the back of his mind in the name of science such a long time ago. He can't believe that it was his father's 'destiny' to be slaughtered like that in a New York taxi cab. He won't let himself. "I- I suppose I am too."
He can remember Hiro from Kirby Plaza, though he'd never managed to look at the man's face. He'd been too focused on Matt, on Molly, on his family. Matt had been a stranger back then. A lifetime ago. Where has the lifetime taken Hiro?
"We are hunting bad man. Villain," Hiro clarifies.
The man that they're queuing behind looks over his shoulder at them, unable to resist his curiosity. Perhaps this isn't something that they should be discussing in public; perhaps this isn't something that they should be discussing at all, but Mohinder can't bring himself to walk away yet. The hairs on his arms have stood up at the mention of Hiro's hunt. "Sylar?" he asks, sensing a potential ally.
Hiro's face crumbles. "Sylar? No, Sylar is gone." He shakes his head vehemently. "I stabbed him."
"He survived," Mohinder says. He hates to crush anyone's hopes and spoil any delusions, but… Hiro should be careful. He shudders to think what Sylar could do with the ability to stop time, to teleport, to change the past. It's a world-changing power, one that needs to be in the right hands: Mohinder doesn't know Hiro enough to trust him, but he certainly knows Sylar enough to feel sick at the thoughts of how the world would be shaped under his hands. "There was a Company - they didn't let him die. I don't know why."
There are no answers that he can dredge from Bob or even Elle. It's a shut book; he fears what might happen if he digs too far in that direction. Regardless, his ties with the Company have been severed by now. He's of no use to them any more, too far lost in his need for justice to stick to science any more.
"But…" Hiro's face has creased unhappily as he flounders beside Mohinder, shaking his head. "I stopped him. Changed the future."
"I'm sorry," Mohinder says, shaking his head. "He's back - Maya and I… We're going after him now." He stops to pay for his and Maya's lunch; the cashier seems to be paying attention for the first time since he entered the shop, intently listening in on their bizarre conversation. "Why? If you're not after Sylar, who else is there?"
How many other 'villains' are there to find, to stop? The thought of more than one Sylar in the world- It's horrifying, soul-destroying.
"Adam Monroe," Hiro says. His face darkens again like a storm-cloud and his jaw clenches. The harmless illusion that follows him around seems to fade for that moment, allowing Mohinder to see what lies beneath: a warrior. A 'hero', he supposes. "I thought I stopped him too. I was wrong."
"Ah," Mohinder says, graciously taking the plastic bag from the cashier when it's handed to him. "I see." Though he doesn't, not at all. Adam Monroe isn't a name that means anything to him. He can't say why, he can't explain what's possessed him, but before he can stop himself he's made an offer he really shouldn't have. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
When Hiro's eyes light up in excitement, he knows that he should have kept his mouth shut.
*
As it turns out, 'helping' Hiro is actually extraordinarily easy. They walk to a nearby park, with Maya and Ando tailing behind them and talking awkwardly among themselves, as Hiro explains the state of his mission so far. It sounds depressingly similar to how events have unfolded for Mohinder as well. So many near-misses and mistakes and frustrating failures.
"It is difficult," Hiro confesses as they sit together at a park bench. Mohinder tries to remember his table manners and holds back from simply devouring the lunch they'd brought along. He's starving, but he forces himself to slow down - he's in civil company now. "Sometimes I think I should go back to Japan. I can't find him here."
Mohinder thinks of the cell phone in his pocket: all that it would take to find Hiro's 'villain' for him would be one phone call to Molly, but he hates having to ask her for anything. She deserves to be a normal child - as normal as she can be, in any case. Guilt hangs around his neck every single time he has to ask her to search for Sylar, her own personal bogeyman.
"I'm positive you will," he says with a forced smile. "This 'Adam'. He sounds like someone that needs to be stopped."
"He is."
"Then you have to keep going." Simple as that. People like him, like Hiro… The knowledge they bear means that they can't be like other people. They can't live happy, ignorant lives: 'happy birthdays' and long weekends and late nights watching television and sinking under the covers to sleep for as long as they want… They aren't allowed that luxury; no rest for the wicked, and no rest for those hunting them. "The world needs you." A wry smile decorates Mohinder's face as he says that, but it's true - for both of them.
This realisation feels like a sharp slap. He'd known that stopping Sylar was important, but his reasons had been simplistic. He'd thought that he needed to do this to protect Molly, to avenge his father, but- It's bigger than that, isn't it? So many lives depending on them, so many potential victims to save. It's staggering: it terrifies him, this newly realised responsibility.
"Mohinder?" Maya asks, concerned by his expression. He doesn't think that she's been paying attention to the conversation so far, speaking with Ando instead, but she certainly pays attention to him. Following the death of her brother, it seems to Mohinder that she's latched onto the nearest available substitute - him. "Mohinder, what's wrong?"
If he was more alert, the black that shows in her eyes whenever she worries about him might have caused concern - but he shakes his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It's getting late." It's not, not at all. They've been here for an hour at most and it can't be past three in the afternoon. They need to get moving, he thinks. They're wasting too much time.
"We could stay?" Maya suggests. Hope tinges her voice, the excitement of interacting with new people after being confined to Mohinder for their hunt too much. He can feel that draw too, the need for company and understanding. "We can make up the time tomorrow. Please?"
It's the 'please' that makes him waver, that makes him want to grant her anything she asks for - Ando and Hiro's pleading, puppy dog eyes don't help him to stay strong either. He bites his tongue and sighs. "We have to leave first thing in the morning," he says.
Maya rests against him, her head on his shoulder and her arm giving him a tight squeeze for a split-second. "Thank you," she whispers; she sounds alive and happy for the first time in months. Mohinder smiles at her, awkward and unsure what to do with himself: perhaps there are more important things than their 'mission' after all.
*
He sets the alarm for 4 a.m, and when it pierces through his sleep it's all he can do not to roll over and slam it off. Maya groans as she wakes up. "We could stay," she mumbles, half-asleep. "We could stay with them."
It's tempting: so tempting, and a week ago Mohinder thinks he would have caved. The allure of fresh company is difficult to fight - but meeting Hiro, talking with him, sharing their stories… It's reminded him what a real hero is.
"We have to keep going," he says. "I'm sorry."
They get ready in silence, dressing while it's still dark outside. By now, their morning routine is down to an efficient art, time saved at every corner. Before they leave, Mohinder picks up the paper he'd been writing on last night while on the phone with his family, finally calling in a favour he'd been holding off on: Adam's current alias and location, along with directions that Matt looked up for him. For Hiro - because if heroes don't help each other, who will?
He slips it under the door of the motel room beside their own. His hands feel frosty and he's starving already, but Maya seems cheerful again for once. "Let's go," she says, aiming for the car already.
Mohinder nods and silently says goodbye to the two sleeping men that accidentally stumbled into their meeting - two missions crossing paths - and walks after Maya. They won't stop, they can't: he understands that now.