Fic: Hours (2/2)
Title: Hours (2/2)
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: R
Summary: This process takes several hours, but getting there took much longer. (Previous Part)
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Slash, AU, Mpreg, Spoilers for Vol 4, Mild spoilers for Vol 5 (Just know who Emma is)
June 15, 2007 - 10:00 PM
Mohinder grunted as Sylar shook him awake. "Wake up," the serial killer ordered. "Stay with me, Suresh."
His blurry eyes slowly began to focus on the situation and the Indian soon discovered -- much to his dismay -- that Sylar was currently cradling his limp body in his arms like one would a child. Mohinder scowled, and pushed himself out of Sylar's grasp, mildly surprised that the murderer allowed him to do so. "I don't believe this," Mohinder breathed.
"Don't feel embarrassed," Sylar assured him. "You were surprised and still recovering from the sedatives, its natural-"
"Not that," he cut in sharply. "I don't believe..." His words faded away as he paused to search for the folder that he had been looking through before he blacked out. "This!" he finished, snatching the blood test from Building 26 and waving in Sylar's face. "I don't believe it. You made it up."
Sylar looked positively appalled at the accusation. "Why would I make up something so ridiculous?"
"Because you're insane!" Mohinder shot back. "You could easily have doctored this."
"And found all this information on you?" he snapped. "Your driver's license? Your birth certificate? Your high school diploma?"
Mohinder rolled his eyes at Sylar's words. He wouldn't put it past the man to dig so deeply into his past just for his own sick amusement. "Do I need to restate my insanity argument?" he asked bitterly.
"Linea nigra."
The geneticist blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt statement. "What?"
"Linea nigra," Sylar repeated. "It's a dark line that appears from your naval to your pubic region caused by increased estrogen brought on during pregnancy."
"I know what linea nigra is," Mohinder seethed.
"Then look at your stomach."
Mohinder scowled. He didn't have to lift his shirt to know that Sylar was right. He had noticed the strange line on his stomach a few weeks ago, but had not paid much attention to it. Now just thinking of its presence made his blood run cold. He had to be at least three months along for his pregnancy to suddenly be visible.
"Shit."
Sylar chuckled softly, shifting himself so that they were sitting closer together. "Yeah."
"That still doesn't explain it," Mohinder whispered, turning his confused eyes towards the serial killer. "Why did you save me?"
"Because I... it’s my baby, isn't it?"
December 29, 2007 - 2:27 PM
Mohinder shuddered, pressing himself flat against his hospital bed as he took in Sylar's appearance. The man was dressed from head to toe in his usual black attire, but he did not look nearly as menacing as usual with a bouquet of yellow roses and a teddy bear in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" the geneticist whispered. There was really no use in shouting. It would only draw in unnecessary attention and cause innocent people to get hurt. Furthermore, the only other two evolved humans in the hospital -- that he knew of -- were a telepathic nurse and a doctor who could see sounds. Neither would be very useful against Sylar's arsenal of abilities.
"I came to see you," Sylar said simply, raising the teddy bear as if it were his clearance to enter. "I'm not going to miss my baby being born."
"It's not your baby," Mohinder seethed even as Sylar took a step towards him, shutting the door with his telekinesis.
Sylar sighed, rolling his eyes wearily at the Indian man's statement. "Go ahead Mohinder, keep lying to me. You keep singing that same old song. If it isn't 'you killed my father,' it's 'this isn't your baby.'"
"It isn't," he hissed. "It's mine, my baby, and I don't want you anywhere near me or it, so get the hell out of here!"
The serial killer's eyes darkened and for a moment, Mohinder thought the other man was going to use his telekinesis on him, yet he didn't. "If you weren't pregnant," he growled by way of explanation.
"What? You'd beat me with your flowers?"
Sylar stiffened, placing the bouquet on a hospital tray before pulling up a chair and sitting by Mohinder's bed side. If this had been any other situation, the geneticist would have laughed hysterically at the way the other man was sitting with the stuffed bear cradled between his legs. "I'm trying," Sylar said testily. "And I'm the one who should be mad at you! You left me when I needed you most, just like a Suresh."
"Yes, me walking out on you is far worse than all the little things you've done to me!" Mohinder snapped sarcastically.
"I saved your life," he shot back.
"Because you wanted something from me!"
"That's a bullshit answer and you know it!" Sylar growled, reaching over and grasping Mohinder's biceps in his vice like grasp. "You know me better than that Mohinder. You know I came for you because I lo-"
"Oh gods!" Mohinder gasped, cringing as he was suddenly slammed with another contraction. He hissed, reaching out and grabbing Sylar's arm in his hands before the other man could even think to pull away.
"What's going on?" the serial killer asked, mild panic in his voice.
Mohinder couldn't think straight enough to form a coherent thought. Instead, he sat there, moaning in pain and digging his fingers into Sylar's arm. He heard the man above him howl in pain as his bones started to crack and his flesh ripped apart under Mohinder's grip.
"Is this making a difference?" Sylar asked through gritted teeth, his eyes darting back and forth between Mohinder's reddened face to his shattering appendage. "Break it Mohinder. Break my arm. Come on. I know you want to. Do it! It'll make you feel better."
The geneticist had to wonder whether or not the serial killer was being serious, but he decided to play along. Who was he to pass up an opportunity like this? With a massive grunt, his hands tightened and twisted against Sylar's skin. A sickening crack echoed through the hospital room as the American's limb snapped like a dried twig under Mohinder's fingers. The serial killer had to bite into his other arm just to keep himself from screaming out against the pain.
Mohinder huffed, collapsing against the soft mattress, boneless and completely worn out. "That better have been a real contraction," Sylar grunted, his mouth and arms covered with blood as his body began to heal itself.
"It was," Mohinder assured him.
Silence feel between the two as Sylar got up to try to find something to wipe the blood off of him. "How long have you been here?"
"Since noon," he breathed.
Sylar turned and frowned curiously at his words. "Noon?" he repeated. "Why aren't you in surgery?"
"Soon," he assured him, reaching over to grasp his cell phone, reading the time with tired eyes. "Soon."
June 15, 2007 - 10:05 PM
Mohinder turned away from him and cringed, pressing his dark hands to his stomach and closing his eyes against the harsh truth. Shit. It was, unfortunately, true. This baby couldn't have been fathered by anyone else except Sylar. The murderer was the last man he had slept with. It was bad enough to know that he had had sex with the serial killer, now he had this physical reminder growing inside of him.
"What makes you think that?" he asked instead, purposely avoiding the question.
"Because the time adds up," the American said simply. "We made love in your lab at Pinehearst back in-"
"I remember, I remember," Mohinder cut in. His stomach was churning enough as it was, he didn't need to hear Sylar refer to them fucking as "making love." "But that doesn't automatically mean this is your baby. There were others."
"That's a lie."
Mohinder turned and gave Sylar a sour look. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"That you're lying," he replied flatly. "It's a new trick I picked up. I can tell when people lie and that was a lie. This is my baby."
Mohinder shuddered, the words burning his insides and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "No. No it isn't."
"Mohinder-"
"What do you want from me?"
The serial killer sighed, pushing his hair back as he silently gathered his thoughts. "I got this new ability," he explained. "Shape shifting. I was using it for my new position at Building 26, but... I was getting overwhelmed by it. I started to lose myself. Someone suggested that I get an 'anchor', something that's mine that I could hold onto."
The Indian man felt his face lose its color as he listened to the other man's story. "Don't tell me," he began grimly. "Am I your 'anchor'?"
Sylar nodded, wrapping his arm around the smaller man's shoulder and pressing them together. "That's right," he said, grasping Mohinder's hand in his and placing a tender kiss to the geneticist's wrist. "All you have to do is keep me Sylar and I'll keep you and our baby safe from the government. Fair trade, right?"
Mohinder frowned, pulling his hand free and slapping Sylar across the face. The serial killer’s head twisted so quickly that Mohinder actually heard the bones snap. "You're insane," he hissed. "I'm not going to stay here with you! Why should I help you? The world will be better off if you forgot who you were!"
He stiffened as he watched Sylar twist his head back into place, issuing yet another sickening pop as the bones began to mend. "You really don't have a choice, Mohinder," Sylar chided. "You leave my side and Danko's men will come get you."
"We're in Canada!" Mohinder shot back. "He has no power here."
"Tell that to Hiro Nakamura," Sylar shot back. "He was in Japan when they captured him."
Mohinder winced at Sylar's words. Whether he liked it or not, the other man was right. His powers weren't of much use against the tasers and drugs that the government used to sedate him and other Specials, and now he had this child to think of. It seemed as if he was going to be stuck with Sylar for quite some time.
December 29, 2007 - 2:50 PM
Mohinder could breathe easier now that he had finally been administered his epidural. He felt better, but not perfect. There was still the same pressure on his lower half and although it was not coupled with a blinding, intense pain, it still worried him. He no longer had any anxiety at the prospect of surgery. He just wanted to get his child out of him so that he could know that the baby was safe.
"Do you want me to rub your back?" Sylar asked, pulling his chair closer to Mohinder's bedside.
The Indian man sighed, closing his eyes and pretending that he was alone in his hospital room. He stayed silent for a while, curled up in a tight ball as he clutched at his pillow and waited for three o'clock. However, Sylar must have mistaken his silence for approval as the serial killer suddenly reached out and began messaging his tender flesh.
"Please stop," Mohinder grumbled, ignoring the way his tense muscles relaxed under Sylar's skillful hands.
"Do you want me to go lower?"
He rolled his eyes at the serial killer's question. The man would not take no for an answer. "I'd like you to leave," he snapped, only to find Sylar's hands traveling lower. "This isn't winning you any points."
"I know," he sighed, rubbing at a particularly tender area. "I just want to make this easier for you."
"That's a first," the Indian grumbled just as a soft knock came on the door.
"Dr. Suresh?" Dr. Coolidge's hesitant voice came. Mohinder grunted, shifting himself carefully so that he was once again lying on his back. His stomach dropped when he took in the apologetic look on the young doctor's face. "I'm afraid we have a problem."
The Indian man said nothing, he merely sat there and waited for her to speak, irritated when he felt Sylar's hand slip into his.
"I'm afraid your spot has been taken," she told him. "There was an accident and it looks like we won't be able to fit you in until at least six."
"Six?" Sylar snapped, giving Mohinder's hand a reassuring squeeze. Dr. Coolidge jumped at Sylar's words. She may not have been able to hear him, but she very clearly saw the furious look in his cold brown eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! He's been here since this morning and you're pushing him back even later?"
"Sylar," Mohinder hissed; a warning clear in his tone as he pulled his hand out of the other man's grasp.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Coolidge began hesitantly, "are you his boyfriend?"
"No!" Mohinder cried out, just as Sylar gave a very calm "Yes."
Sylar frowned, rolling his eyes as if Mohinder were the one behaving like a stubborn child. "I'm the father," he explained.
"The other father," Mohinder clarified.
Dr. Coolidge nodded her head slowly. The lost look on her face made it obvious that she did not completely understand their situation, but clearly was not willing to sit and watch the two continue to bicker back and forth. "Well, I'm sorry, but there isn't really anything that I can do."
It was then that Peter decided to reappear, one hand holding his clipboard while the other fingered with the end of his stethoscope. "Hey, Emma I-" His words were instantly cut off when his eyes locked with Sylar's. The young nurse stiffened before grabbing the blonde doctor's slim shoulders in his hands and pulling her away. "Sylar," he hissed. "What are you doing here?"
The serial killer flashed the other man an amused smile, grabbing Mohinder's hand in his once again. "Just came to see my baby being born," he grinned, caressing Mohinder's hand with the pad of his thumb.
June 16 - July 6, 2007
Mohinder would like to have considered their situation one that had been established purely out of convince -- Sylar gave him protection from Danko's men while the murderer gained an "anchor", something to tie him to his true identity -- but the geneticist knew that the serial killer saw their dynamic as something much deeper than that.
Things had started off badly in their awkwardness and then progressively got worse.
They butted heads of course, it was only natural when dealing with the man who had murdered your father, but the first few weeks were surprisingly mild. Sylar "took care of him" by changing locations and vehicles constantly and making sure Mohinder had enough to eat and plenty of sleep, but the geneticist found himself lacking in his end of the bargain.
Sylar seemed to have his usually eerie control over all his abilities during the day, but at night, when his body and mind were in a relaxed state, the serial killer lost his grasp on his powers. Their first few mornings together, Mohinder was startled to wake up and find the face of the stranger who had rescued him from Building 26 resting peacefully beside him. More horrifying than that were the times Mohinder woke up to find Sylar had transformed into an eerily accurate replica of himself.
"Look, obviously you're having some sort of identity crisis," Mohinder had blurted out one morning, after the first time Sylar had unconsciously shifted into the geneticist’s form, "and just having me around is not helping you. You need to try getting back to your old self. Did you have any hobbies? Preferably something that doesn't include dismembering innocent people?"
Mohinder had remembered the way Sylar had shifted awkwardly under his gaze, the faintest hints of a blush coloring his pale cheeks. "You'd think it's stupid," he'd grumbled sheepishly.
"Sylar, I could not possibly, in every sense of the word, care any less about what you used to do in your free time! Even if your hobby used to be chronic masturbation, I would not care."
Sylar had scowled, his blush quickly melting away into a look of annoyance as he stared into the slightly shorter man's deep brown eyes. "I... I restored timepieces."
Mohinder blinked, staring at the man's face for several minutes and wondering whether or not he was being serious. "Watches?"
"Timepieces," Sylar corrected firmly. "It's what I used to do for a living."
The geneticist wrinkled his nose in distaste at the statement. "You were a watchmaker that fixed clocks as a hobby?" He shook his head, processing the information carefully. "That has got to be the saddest thing I've ever heard."
So they bought Sylar the tools and equipment he would need and he began "restoring timepieces" again. The serial killer also decided to take things a small step further by cutting his hair to the length Mohinder remembered it being just a few months ago. After less than a week of this bizarre brand of therapy, Sylar eventually found himself able to keep control of his abilities in his conscious and unconscious state. Yet after Sylar "fixed" himself, Mohinder's problems only seemed to increase.
Sylar suddenly found himself mentally stable enough to go back to killing people for their abilities.
"This wasn't part of our deal," Mohinder snapped. "You never said anything about collecting abilities!"
"And I never said I wouldn't," Sylar shot back, a smug smile spreading across his face.
Mohinder scowled, his jaw set tightly and his fists clenching at his side. "Well I won't sit back and watch you kill innocent people," he announced, brushing past the serial killer and heading towards the door. "Your powers are under control again. You don't need me anymore."
"But you need me," Sylar reminded him, grabbing the Indian man by his upper arm and holding him in place. "You're a wanted man, Mohinder. You can't just go off on your merry way and expect the world to be okay."
"I'm strong," he sneered, attempting to pull his arm free, but the combination of Sylar's vice like grip and his telekinetic hold was too much to fight against. "I can protect myself and my baby."
"Did that really help you the first time around? Or the second?" Sylar clucked his tongue, pressing his pale hand against Mohinder’s still flat stomach. "Your head strong nature has always been one of your most fascinating qualities, Dr. Suresh, but you need to think carefully, not just about yourself, but the little one as well."
The geneticist felt his frown deepen as he considered the other man's words. A part of him knew that he wasn't strong enough to face off against Danko's men if they were to attack him again, but he couldn't just sit around and watch as Sylar killed for his own sick enjoyment. He couldn't be expected to choose between the life of his unborn child and the lives of so many innocents. "I... I can't. I can't do this."
"You won't be doing anything," Sylar reminded him reaching out with his free hand to trace the Indian man's strong jaw with the tips of his fingers. "I'll be the one taking abilities. All you have to do is stay alive for our baby."
"Sitting back and doing nothing as you go about killing these people is just as bad as taking a knife and slitting their throats myself. I won't-"
"Suresh," Sylar cut in, silencing the other man by sliding his thumb along the Indian’s trembling bottom lip, "You can fight and you can struggle all you want, but it'll all be for nothing. You're gonna give into me sooner or later. Now why don't you just shut off that beautiful mind of yours, just this once, and let me take care of you."
Mohinder opened his mouth to say something, but his words died on his tongue when Sylar pressed their lips together in a searing hot kiss.
December 29, 2007 - 3:34 PM
'Three more hours?' His mother paused, sighing wearily into the mouth piece as she took in his words. 'What sort of hospital is this?'
'It can't be helped, Mother,' Mohinder cut in, even as panicked tears threatened to fill his eyes. 'There was an accident and the OR is full. What can I do?'
'Speak to someone,' the woman insisted.
'It's not that simple,' he sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Sylar's curious face before turning back towards the opposite wall. 'I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm an unusual case, remember? If someone were to find out that there was a pregnant man in the building-'
'What about your friends?' she cut in. 'Are they helping you?'
'They are trying,' he shrugged.
"Mohinder?" Sylar began, pressing a hand to the Indian man's shoulder only to have it shrugged off. "Do you want me to get you anything? Water maybe?"
Mohinder frowned, placing his hand over his phone's mouthpiece as he turned to glare over at the concerned serial killer. "No, and you are not leaving this room," he snapped. 'I'm sorry, Mother. What were you saying?'
'I said: you should have gone to a different hospital.'
The geneticist groaned, rubbing at his face wearily. His mother wasn't usually this fussy, except in tense situations like this one. It only served to put him even more on edge as he struggled to calm her fears as well as his own. 'Well I wasn't exactly rich with options.'
'You could have come back to India,' she told him.
Mohinder fell silent, allowing the guilt to eat away at him at the woman's comment. 'I wish I had,' he told her sincerely. He wished that his mother's warm smile would be one of the first sights his child could be treated to, he wished that he were in his homeland among family and friends, and he wished that there was an entire ocean between him and Sylar.
"Mohinder?" The geneticist turned to see Peter standing in the doorway to his room an eager look in his eyes. "Can I talk to you?"
He nodded his head quickly before turning his attention back to his phone call. 'I have to go, Mother,' he said quickly. 'I'll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.'
'No, I will wait until my grandchild is born,' she reminded him stubbornly.
He sighed, rolling his eyes at her comment yet loving her for her devotion. 'Alright then, have it your way. Goodbye Mother.'
'Goodbye my love.'
The geneticist sighed, ending the call and turning his attention back to Peter's earnest face. "I've got good news," Peter declared stepping into the room and pointedly avoiding Sylar's gaze. "We found an opening for you."
"Thank God!" Mohinder breathed, rubbing soothing circles into his stomach.
"You'll be going into surgery in less than an hour," the nurse assured him.
"I want to go in with him."
Peter flinched and Mohinder stiffened at Sylar's words. The two men looked back and forth between each other before staring awkwardly at Sylar's startlingly sincere face. "Sylar... I," Peter began hesitantly, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" the serial killer snapped, reaching over to grasp Mohinder's shoulder. "I'm the father. This is my right."
"Listen," the nurse sighed, "all personal feelings aside, I still don't think it's a good idea. This is a complicated procedure and it’s the first time it'll be performed on a man. If something goes wrong with either Mohinder or the baby, you're just going to be in the way and it'll slow things down."
"If something goes wrong my blood could save his life," Sylar pointed out. "Besides, do you really think you can stop me from seeing my baby being born?"
"Sylar, I don't want you in the operating room with me," Mohinder sighed, shrugging off the other man's gentle touch.
The pale man let out an exasperated huffed, turning his attention back to Mohinder and staring at him intensely. "You owe me this Mohinder," Sylar whispered darkly. "I've given you so much-"
"I don't owe you anything," the Indian cut in. "Don't think that because you got me pregnant that I'm suddenly in your debt."
"I saved your life," he reminded him. "I saved our baby's life. I took you in and took care of you when you had no one else to turn to. God, I kill myself for you, Mohinder, yet you still treat me like dirt. Why can't you just get it through your thick head that I lo-"
"You're a monster and a killer and you murdered my father!" he barked. "I don't like you and I don't want you anywhere near me or my child! Why can't you get the hint and just leave me alone?"
A hurt look flashed over Sylar's face for the briefest moment before being replaced by a dark look of hate. He stood up quickly, knocking over the chair he had been sitting in, before turning on his heels and storming out the door.
August 15, 2007 - 3:17 AM
Sylar had called this their two month anniversary and that was probably what had pushed Mohinder over the edge. These past few months had been emotionally draining to say the least. He found himself learning more about Sylar than he had ever wanted to know. He discovered that Sylar was organized to the point of compulsion, always putting everything in its "proper place" and having a fit when things were moved. He discovered that Sylar could very easily multitask with his telekinesis, a technique he demonstrated by holding Mohinder's body frozen in place while he pinned one of his victims down and sliced their head open. He also found that Sylar liked to spoon. They often fell asleep, lying with his back pressed against Sylar's chest as the serial killer held him tight and stroked his growing stomach with tired fingers.
"I can't wait for you to get bigger," Sylar would whisper to him every night. "I can't wait to see you big and pregnant and all mine."
Mohinder hated the familiarity, he hated the way he was slowly growing used to the sight of blood and the sound of helpless screams, and he hated the way he forced himself justify it all as the only way he could protect his child. Yet that night, when Sylar whispered in his ears that tomorrow they would "celebrate" two months of being together, Mohinder snapped.
A tight ball of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach, disgusted that it had taken him so long to finally build up the courage to sneak away from his captor, but he did it. Mohinder knew he didn't have to worry about Sylar hearing him, his heightened hearing had been lost a long time ago, and escape was surprisingly easy. He took nothing with him, since he had nothing in the first place, and he ran as far as he could for as long as he could. The sun was just barely peaking over the horizon when he decided to take a break.
He slipped behind a gas station, intending to only rest for a little while before his eyes caught the sight of a pay phone less than a foot away. He grasped the phone and quickly punched in what he hoped was the right number and held his breath, praying that the other line would be picked up.
"Hello?" a familiar voice, thick with sleep and struggling to hold back a yawn, answered and Mohinder's heart leapt in his chest.
"Peter? Please. Don't hang up."
There was the faint sound of cloth rustling as the young man on the other line straightened himself, shifting the phone from one hand to the other before speaking again. "Mohinder?"
"Peter... I think I'm in trouble."
December 29, 2007 - 6:33 PM
'It's a boy, Mother,' Mohinder announced proudly, gazing down lovingly at the sand colored bundle resting peacefully in his lap. The baby gurgled, suckling on his tiny digits and scrunching his nose up in his dream like state. ‘Ten inches long. Six pounds, thirteen ounces.'
'Oh! So tiny!' his mother cooed and for a moment, he felt as if she could see the infant perfectly from his vague description alone. 'What are you going to call him?'
'I haven't quite decided,' he told her, resting the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could use his free hand to rub the tips of his fingers against the infant's soft skin.
'Chandra, perhaps?' his mother teased, and Mohinder laughed quietly, suddenly afraid that he would disturb his child.
'Perhaps,' he agreed, rocking the tiny creature in his fatigued arms. 'Are you going to tell Molly the good news?'
'Of course,' she said, a smile clear in her voice. 'And will you be coming back home or should I buy a plane ticket to New York.'
'No need, Mother. The first chance I get, I'll buy a ticket to India and you'll see so much of me and your grandson that you'll be sick of us!' The Indian man's smile widened when the newborn pulled his fingers out of his mouth and attempted to grab Mohinder’s thick digits.
'That'll never happen!' she laughed. 'Well, I will let you get some rest. You're going to need it. Kiss my grandson goodnight for me.'
'Of course,' he chuckled. 'Goodnight, Grandma.'
'Goodnight, Father,' she teased before hanging up.
Mohinder felt his insides warm, letting the strange new words sink in. Father. He was a father. His smile widened further as he placed his cell phone on his side table, and began humming a lullaby to the newborn babe.
"Knock, knock," Peter teased as he entered his hospital room. "How are you feeling?"
Mohinder looked up to see the young nurse wearing a khaki colored jacket over his navy blue scrubs. "Tired," Mohinder answered truthfully. "And in love. I never could have imagined anything so beautiful."
Peter smiled, approaching the new father and his child cautiously. “A boy or a girl?”
“Boy.”
The younger man nodded, his smile widening as he took in the sight before him. "He is adorable," he beamed, kissing the infant's round cheek. "And he looks just like you."
The geneticist laughed, grasping a tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't think so," he whispered, although he had to admit that there was already a strong resemblance. It wasn't just the baby's dark skin or soft black curls that mimicked his own; there were other, little things that seemed to be showing more and more as he gazed down at his child. "Are you leaving?" he asked, glancing at the nurse's coat and shoulder bag.
"Yeah," he shrugged, pulling himself to stand up straight. "I'm gonna take Emma home, then I'll be back in the morning for another eight hour shift. Give or take."
Mohinder nodded. "You and Dr. Coolidge, Emma... are you two-"
"No," Peter cut in quickly. "We're just friends."
"Oh." Mohinder blushed slightly at his mistake. "Is there... someone else?"
"Occasionally," he smirked, a secret twinkling in his dark brown eyes. "He pops in and out once in a while. But, uh, hey, I'll see you in the morning, bright and early."
"Alright. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Peter smiled back. "Get some sleep."
Mohinder nodded as his eyes drifted back towards the little bundle in his arms. The baby had drifted back off to sleep, but Mohinder could not follow him. Even as sleep tugged at his exhausted mind, he fought against it, determined to stay awake to watch over his sleeping child.
"Can I come in?"
The Indian man frowned, looking up to see Sylar already half way into his hospital room, an unreadable look on his face as he gripped the door knob tightly in his large white hands. Mohinder shrugged, but said nothing. There wasn't much he could do to stop him anyway.
Realizing that this was as close to an invitation as he was going to get, Sylar slipped inside, stepping lightly so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. "Is that him?" he asked, pulling up a seat beside him.
"No, my baby's still in the nursery. I just borrowed this one for awhile."
Sylar ignored his sarcastic words as he gazed down at the child sleeping in his arms. Mohinder felt his stomach tightened and his heart beat quicken when he noticed the intense gaze Sylar had pinned on his child. The look made him feel sick and nervous all at once. "He's so beautiful," the serial killer whispered dreamily. "He looks just like you."
Mohinder nodded, pulling the child away on reflex when Sylar reached out to touch the baby’s cheek. "But you already knew that."
Sylar frowned, cocking his head slightly and giving the geneticist a quizzical look. "What?"
"You were in the operating room with me," he concluded.
"How did you-"
"When you walked in here, you instantly knew that the baby was a boy," he clarified. "You were the nurse who held my hand and told me everything would be alright. I knew it was you right away." He sighed, shaking his head wearily at the memory. "You never listen."
"Neither do you," Sylar shot back.
The small hospital room slipped into an uncomfortable silence as the two men gazed down at the child they had created in a moment of passion, neither one of them knowing what to say to each other.
"Can I hold him?" Sylar asked, breaking the sudden silence. "You're falling asleep as it is, just... please let me hold him."
Mohinder heaved a reluctant sigh as he passed the sleeping child over to the other man. "Watch his head," he whispered, anxiously watching the baby as Sylar held him in his stiff, awkward arms. "Be careful with him."
"I will, I will," the serial killer whispered back, slowly settling into an easy position. "Hey there cutie." Mohinder cringed as the murderer cooed and made faces at the sleeping infant. He really wanted to forget this moment, but he knew it'd be burned into his head for a long time. "Have you thought of a name yet?"
"Not yet."
Sylar snorted, his eyes never leaving the baby. "That's a lie. You already know exactly what you're going to call him. You just don't want to tell me."
Mohinder said nothing, he merely sat there watching the other man even as his head bobbed and his eyes threatened to slip shut. "I'm not sorry about what I said before," he said suddenly, hoping that talking would help to keep him awake. "I meant it then, and I still do now. But I will admit that you being here today was... helpful. Waiting by myself would have been terrible. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Sylar said. They fell silent once again and for a moment Mohinder thought he was going to drift off, but Sylar's words brought him back to the waking world. "So what happens now?"
The Indian man sighed, stretching himself out in hopes of waking himself up a bit. "I'm going to stay in New York for a little while and then the baby and I will be moving back to India to live with my mother and Molly."
The American turned and gave him a hurt look, his dark brown eyes begging him to take back his words. "You're taking him away from me? Again?"
"I'm sorry," Mohinder said automatically, then thought better of it. "No. I'm not sorry. You're a horrible person and you'd make a terrible father. You killed my father -- his grandfather -- and I don't want my baby growing up around someone like you. This is the way things have to be."
Sylar scowled. "This isn't fair. You know that I’m in love..."
The serial killer kept talking, but his words soon turned to muffled white noise in Mohinder's ears. The need for sleep became too much for him to fight against and he quickly found his body going limp against his mattress and the world fading away before his eyes.
March 24, 2007 - 2:14 PM
Sylar heaved a pleasant sigh as he lay on the cold floor of Mohinder’s lab, his skin flushed and tingling as he worked to catch his breath. He had never felt so relaxed, so complete in his entire life and it was all because of the beautiful man lying next to him.
"Well," he huffed, turning over to gaze at Mohinder's back dreamily. "That was unexpected."
The Indian man didn't answer. He just laid there still and silent, his breathing labored and far too loud for Sylar's liking. It was only then that the serial killer noticed the series of scales trailing up and down Mohinder's exposed flesh, cringing slightly at the sight of them. They were smooth to the touch, but were oozing and seemed far more painful than the ones flicked across his face and arms. He had to wonder what state of mind Mohinder had been in to inject himself with a formula that could do something like this to him.
"Mohinder?"
The geneticist curled up tighter, wrapping his arms around his waist miserably as he began coughing, his whole body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. Sylar felt himself stiffen as he listened to the horrible hacking sounds the other man made, his stomach twisting in nervous guilt.
"It's okay Mohinder," he whispered, grabbing the Indian's discarded lab coat and wrapping it around the smaller man's middle. "It's okay. I'm here."
Mohinder said nothing -- and somehow that worried him even more -- as Sylar gathered his trembling body in his arms, cradling his small frame against his chest as the Indian continued to cough and hack. They stayed like that for some time, even after Mohinder's coughing fit subsided, and Sylar realized for the first time how serious the man's situation really was.
The tender moment was suddenly interrupted when his phone began to chime and vibrate. Sylar sighed, rolling his eyes as he used his telekinesis to bring the mobile device to his side. "Hello?"
"Gabriel?" Arthur's irritated tone came from the other line. "You were supposed to meet me in my office five minutes ago."
"Sorry Father," he grumbled, the words tasting so awkward and insincere on his tongue. "I was with Dr. Suresh."
"I can see that." The serial killer frowned, lifting his head and spotting the security camera that was pointed right at their naked bodies. "Now stop messing around and get down here right away."
Sylar rolled his eyes in annoyance as his alleged father hung up on him. "I have to go," he whispered, although from the other man's even, raspy breaths, he could tell that Mohinder was already fast asleep. He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the smaller man’s sweat covered forehead. "Don't worry Mohinder. I'll be back. I'm going to take care of you."
December 29, 2007 - 6:55 PM
Sylar heaved a tired sigh as he watched Mohinder slump back against the hospital bed, completely drained of all his energy. Mohinder was stubborn and head strong, but he had never seen him look as beautiful as he did in that exact moment. His hair was a mess and there were thick bags under his eyes, but his whole body was glowing with love for their child and his facial muscles were completely relaxed in sleep, giving him a young, innocent appearance.
"Goodnight you stubborn bastard," Sylar murmured bending over to kiss the Indian man's stubble covered cheek.
The baby squirmed and gurgled in protest as he pressed their bodies too close together. He laughed, smiling down at the sand colored infant resting in his arms. "Hey there," he crooned, rocking the newborn back and forth in his arms. "You're a lot prettier now that you're not covered in blood and goo.
"Your Daddy thinks he can take you away from me, but I'll let you in on a secret: the three of us are meant to be together. We're going to be a family, forever and ever." His smile only widened when the infant yawned, and blindly tried to place his fingers back in his mouth.
"Go to sleep," Sylar whispered pressing a kiss to soft black hair.
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: R
Summary: This process takes several hours, but getting there took much longer. (Previous Part)
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Slash, AU, Mpreg, Spoilers for Vol 4, Mild spoilers for Vol 5 (Just know who Emma is)
June 15, 2007 - 10:00 PM
Mohinder grunted as Sylar shook him awake. "Wake up," the serial killer ordered. "Stay with me, Suresh."
His blurry eyes slowly began to focus on the situation and the Indian soon discovered -- much to his dismay -- that Sylar was currently cradling his limp body in his arms like one would a child. Mohinder scowled, and pushed himself out of Sylar's grasp, mildly surprised that the murderer allowed him to do so. "I don't believe this," Mohinder breathed.
"Don't feel embarrassed," Sylar assured him. "You were surprised and still recovering from the sedatives, its natural-"
"Not that," he cut in sharply. "I don't believe..." His words faded away as he paused to search for the folder that he had been looking through before he blacked out. "This!" he finished, snatching the blood test from Building 26 and waving in Sylar's face. "I don't believe it. You made it up."
Sylar looked positively appalled at the accusation. "Why would I make up something so ridiculous?"
"Because you're insane!" Mohinder shot back. "You could easily have doctored this."
"And found all this information on you?" he snapped. "Your driver's license? Your birth certificate? Your high school diploma?"
Mohinder rolled his eyes at Sylar's words. He wouldn't put it past the man to dig so deeply into his past just for his own sick amusement. "Do I need to restate my insanity argument?" he asked bitterly.
"Linea nigra."
The geneticist blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt statement. "What?"
"Linea nigra," Sylar repeated. "It's a dark line that appears from your naval to your pubic region caused by increased estrogen brought on during pregnancy."
"I know what linea nigra is," Mohinder seethed.
"Then look at your stomach."
Mohinder scowled. He didn't have to lift his shirt to know that Sylar was right. He had noticed the strange line on his stomach a few weeks ago, but had not paid much attention to it. Now just thinking of its presence made his blood run cold. He had to be at least three months along for his pregnancy to suddenly be visible.
"Shit."
Sylar chuckled softly, shifting himself so that they were sitting closer together. "Yeah."
"That still doesn't explain it," Mohinder whispered, turning his confused eyes towards the serial killer. "Why did you save me?"
"Because I... it’s my baby, isn't it?"
December 29, 2007 - 2:27 PM
Mohinder shuddered, pressing himself flat against his hospital bed as he took in Sylar's appearance. The man was dressed from head to toe in his usual black attire, but he did not look nearly as menacing as usual with a bouquet of yellow roses and a teddy bear in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" the geneticist whispered. There was really no use in shouting. It would only draw in unnecessary attention and cause innocent people to get hurt. Furthermore, the only other two evolved humans in the hospital -- that he knew of -- were a telepathic nurse and a doctor who could see sounds. Neither would be very useful against Sylar's arsenal of abilities.
"I came to see you," Sylar said simply, raising the teddy bear as if it were his clearance to enter. "I'm not going to miss my baby being born."
"It's not your baby," Mohinder seethed even as Sylar took a step towards him, shutting the door with his telekinesis.
Sylar sighed, rolling his eyes wearily at the Indian man's statement. "Go ahead Mohinder, keep lying to me. You keep singing that same old song. If it isn't 'you killed my father,' it's 'this isn't your baby.'"
"It isn't," he hissed. "It's mine, my baby, and I don't want you anywhere near me or it, so get the hell out of here!"
The serial killer's eyes darkened and for a moment, Mohinder thought the other man was going to use his telekinesis on him, yet he didn't. "If you weren't pregnant," he growled by way of explanation.
"What? You'd beat me with your flowers?"
Sylar stiffened, placing the bouquet on a hospital tray before pulling up a chair and sitting by Mohinder's bed side. If this had been any other situation, the geneticist would have laughed hysterically at the way the other man was sitting with the stuffed bear cradled between his legs. "I'm trying," Sylar said testily. "And I'm the one who should be mad at you! You left me when I needed you most, just like a Suresh."
"Yes, me walking out on you is far worse than all the little things you've done to me!" Mohinder snapped sarcastically.
"I saved your life," he shot back.
"Because you wanted something from me!"
"That's a bullshit answer and you know it!" Sylar growled, reaching over and grasping Mohinder's biceps in his vice like grasp. "You know me better than that Mohinder. You know I came for you because I lo-"
"Oh gods!" Mohinder gasped, cringing as he was suddenly slammed with another contraction. He hissed, reaching out and grabbing Sylar's arm in his hands before the other man could even think to pull away.
"What's going on?" the serial killer asked, mild panic in his voice.
Mohinder couldn't think straight enough to form a coherent thought. Instead, he sat there, moaning in pain and digging his fingers into Sylar's arm. He heard the man above him howl in pain as his bones started to crack and his flesh ripped apart under Mohinder's grip.
"Is this making a difference?" Sylar asked through gritted teeth, his eyes darting back and forth between Mohinder's reddened face to his shattering appendage. "Break it Mohinder. Break my arm. Come on. I know you want to. Do it! It'll make you feel better."
The geneticist had to wonder whether or not the serial killer was being serious, but he decided to play along. Who was he to pass up an opportunity like this? With a massive grunt, his hands tightened and twisted against Sylar's skin. A sickening crack echoed through the hospital room as the American's limb snapped like a dried twig under Mohinder's fingers. The serial killer had to bite into his other arm just to keep himself from screaming out against the pain.
Mohinder huffed, collapsing against the soft mattress, boneless and completely worn out. "That better have been a real contraction," Sylar grunted, his mouth and arms covered with blood as his body began to heal itself.
"It was," Mohinder assured him.
Silence feel between the two as Sylar got up to try to find something to wipe the blood off of him. "How long have you been here?"
"Since noon," he breathed.
Sylar turned and frowned curiously at his words. "Noon?" he repeated. "Why aren't you in surgery?"
"Soon," he assured him, reaching over to grasp his cell phone, reading the time with tired eyes. "Soon."
June 15, 2007 - 10:05 PM
Mohinder turned away from him and cringed, pressing his dark hands to his stomach and closing his eyes against the harsh truth. Shit. It was, unfortunately, true. This baby couldn't have been fathered by anyone else except Sylar. The murderer was the last man he had slept with. It was bad enough to know that he had had sex with the serial killer, now he had this physical reminder growing inside of him.
"What makes you think that?" he asked instead, purposely avoiding the question.
"Because the time adds up," the American said simply. "We made love in your lab at Pinehearst back in-"
"I remember, I remember," Mohinder cut in. His stomach was churning enough as it was, he didn't need to hear Sylar refer to them fucking as "making love." "But that doesn't automatically mean this is your baby. There were others."
"That's a lie."
Mohinder turned and gave Sylar a sour look. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"That you're lying," he replied flatly. "It's a new trick I picked up. I can tell when people lie and that was a lie. This is my baby."
Mohinder shuddered, the words burning his insides and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "No. No it isn't."
"Mohinder-"
"What do you want from me?"
The serial killer sighed, pushing his hair back as he silently gathered his thoughts. "I got this new ability," he explained. "Shape shifting. I was using it for my new position at Building 26, but... I was getting overwhelmed by it. I started to lose myself. Someone suggested that I get an 'anchor', something that's mine that I could hold onto."
The Indian man felt his face lose its color as he listened to the other man's story. "Don't tell me," he began grimly. "Am I your 'anchor'?"
Sylar nodded, wrapping his arm around the smaller man's shoulder and pressing them together. "That's right," he said, grasping Mohinder's hand in his and placing a tender kiss to the geneticist's wrist. "All you have to do is keep me Sylar and I'll keep you and our baby safe from the government. Fair trade, right?"
Mohinder frowned, pulling his hand free and slapping Sylar across the face. The serial killer’s head twisted so quickly that Mohinder actually heard the bones snap. "You're insane," he hissed. "I'm not going to stay here with you! Why should I help you? The world will be better off if you forgot who you were!"
He stiffened as he watched Sylar twist his head back into place, issuing yet another sickening pop as the bones began to mend. "You really don't have a choice, Mohinder," Sylar chided. "You leave my side and Danko's men will come get you."
"We're in Canada!" Mohinder shot back. "He has no power here."
"Tell that to Hiro Nakamura," Sylar shot back. "He was in Japan when they captured him."
Mohinder winced at Sylar's words. Whether he liked it or not, the other man was right. His powers weren't of much use against the tasers and drugs that the government used to sedate him and other Specials, and now he had this child to think of. It seemed as if he was going to be stuck with Sylar for quite some time.
December 29, 2007 - 2:50 PM
Mohinder could breathe easier now that he had finally been administered his epidural. He felt better, but not perfect. There was still the same pressure on his lower half and although it was not coupled with a blinding, intense pain, it still worried him. He no longer had any anxiety at the prospect of surgery. He just wanted to get his child out of him so that he could know that the baby was safe.
"Do you want me to rub your back?" Sylar asked, pulling his chair closer to Mohinder's bedside.
The Indian man sighed, closing his eyes and pretending that he was alone in his hospital room. He stayed silent for a while, curled up in a tight ball as he clutched at his pillow and waited for three o'clock. However, Sylar must have mistaken his silence for approval as the serial killer suddenly reached out and began messaging his tender flesh.
"Please stop," Mohinder grumbled, ignoring the way his tense muscles relaxed under Sylar's skillful hands.
"Do you want me to go lower?"
He rolled his eyes at the serial killer's question. The man would not take no for an answer. "I'd like you to leave," he snapped, only to find Sylar's hands traveling lower. "This isn't winning you any points."
"I know," he sighed, rubbing at a particularly tender area. "I just want to make this easier for you."
"That's a first," the Indian grumbled just as a soft knock came on the door.
"Dr. Suresh?" Dr. Coolidge's hesitant voice came. Mohinder grunted, shifting himself carefully so that he was once again lying on his back. His stomach dropped when he took in the apologetic look on the young doctor's face. "I'm afraid we have a problem."
The Indian man said nothing, he merely sat there and waited for her to speak, irritated when he felt Sylar's hand slip into his.
"I'm afraid your spot has been taken," she told him. "There was an accident and it looks like we won't be able to fit you in until at least six."
"Six?" Sylar snapped, giving Mohinder's hand a reassuring squeeze. Dr. Coolidge jumped at Sylar's words. She may not have been able to hear him, but she very clearly saw the furious look in his cold brown eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! He's been here since this morning and you're pushing him back even later?"
"Sylar," Mohinder hissed; a warning clear in his tone as he pulled his hand out of the other man's grasp.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Coolidge began hesitantly, "are you his boyfriend?"
"No!" Mohinder cried out, just as Sylar gave a very calm "Yes."
Sylar frowned, rolling his eyes as if Mohinder were the one behaving like a stubborn child. "I'm the father," he explained.
"The other father," Mohinder clarified.
Dr. Coolidge nodded her head slowly. The lost look on her face made it obvious that she did not completely understand their situation, but clearly was not willing to sit and watch the two continue to bicker back and forth. "Well, I'm sorry, but there isn't really anything that I can do."
It was then that Peter decided to reappear, one hand holding his clipboard while the other fingered with the end of his stethoscope. "Hey, Emma I-" His words were instantly cut off when his eyes locked with Sylar's. The young nurse stiffened before grabbing the blonde doctor's slim shoulders in his hands and pulling her away. "Sylar," he hissed. "What are you doing here?"
The serial killer flashed the other man an amused smile, grabbing Mohinder's hand in his once again. "Just came to see my baby being born," he grinned, caressing Mohinder's hand with the pad of his thumb.
June 16 - July 6, 2007
Mohinder would like to have considered their situation one that had been established purely out of convince -- Sylar gave him protection from Danko's men while the murderer gained an "anchor", something to tie him to his true identity -- but the geneticist knew that the serial killer saw their dynamic as something much deeper than that.
Things had started off badly in their awkwardness and then progressively got worse.
They butted heads of course, it was only natural when dealing with the man who had murdered your father, but the first few weeks were surprisingly mild. Sylar "took care of him" by changing locations and vehicles constantly and making sure Mohinder had enough to eat and plenty of sleep, but the geneticist found himself lacking in his end of the bargain.
Sylar seemed to have his usually eerie control over all his abilities during the day, but at night, when his body and mind were in a relaxed state, the serial killer lost his grasp on his powers. Their first few mornings together, Mohinder was startled to wake up and find the face of the stranger who had rescued him from Building 26 resting peacefully beside him. More horrifying than that were the times Mohinder woke up to find Sylar had transformed into an eerily accurate replica of himself.
"Look, obviously you're having some sort of identity crisis," Mohinder had blurted out one morning, after the first time Sylar had unconsciously shifted into the geneticist’s form, "and just having me around is not helping you. You need to try getting back to your old self. Did you have any hobbies? Preferably something that doesn't include dismembering innocent people?"
Mohinder had remembered the way Sylar had shifted awkwardly under his gaze, the faintest hints of a blush coloring his pale cheeks. "You'd think it's stupid," he'd grumbled sheepishly.
"Sylar, I could not possibly, in every sense of the word, care any less about what you used to do in your free time! Even if your hobby used to be chronic masturbation, I would not care."
Sylar had scowled, his blush quickly melting away into a look of annoyance as he stared into the slightly shorter man's deep brown eyes. "I... I restored timepieces."
Mohinder blinked, staring at the man's face for several minutes and wondering whether or not he was being serious. "Watches?"
"Timepieces," Sylar corrected firmly. "It's what I used to do for a living."
The geneticist wrinkled his nose in distaste at the statement. "You were a watchmaker that fixed clocks as a hobby?" He shook his head, processing the information carefully. "That has got to be the saddest thing I've ever heard."
So they bought Sylar the tools and equipment he would need and he began "restoring timepieces" again. The serial killer also decided to take things a small step further by cutting his hair to the length Mohinder remembered it being just a few months ago. After less than a week of this bizarre brand of therapy, Sylar eventually found himself able to keep control of his abilities in his conscious and unconscious state. Yet after Sylar "fixed" himself, Mohinder's problems only seemed to increase.
Sylar suddenly found himself mentally stable enough to go back to killing people for their abilities.
"This wasn't part of our deal," Mohinder snapped. "You never said anything about collecting abilities!"
"And I never said I wouldn't," Sylar shot back, a smug smile spreading across his face.
Mohinder scowled, his jaw set tightly and his fists clenching at his side. "Well I won't sit back and watch you kill innocent people," he announced, brushing past the serial killer and heading towards the door. "Your powers are under control again. You don't need me anymore."
"But you need me," Sylar reminded him, grabbing the Indian man by his upper arm and holding him in place. "You're a wanted man, Mohinder. You can't just go off on your merry way and expect the world to be okay."
"I'm strong," he sneered, attempting to pull his arm free, but the combination of Sylar's vice like grip and his telekinetic hold was too much to fight against. "I can protect myself and my baby."
"Did that really help you the first time around? Or the second?" Sylar clucked his tongue, pressing his pale hand against Mohinder’s still flat stomach. "Your head strong nature has always been one of your most fascinating qualities, Dr. Suresh, but you need to think carefully, not just about yourself, but the little one as well."
The geneticist felt his frown deepen as he considered the other man's words. A part of him knew that he wasn't strong enough to face off against Danko's men if they were to attack him again, but he couldn't just sit around and watch as Sylar killed for his own sick enjoyment. He couldn't be expected to choose between the life of his unborn child and the lives of so many innocents. "I... I can't. I can't do this."
"You won't be doing anything," Sylar reminded him reaching out with his free hand to trace the Indian man's strong jaw with the tips of his fingers. "I'll be the one taking abilities. All you have to do is stay alive for our baby."
"Sitting back and doing nothing as you go about killing these people is just as bad as taking a knife and slitting their throats myself. I won't-"
"Suresh," Sylar cut in, silencing the other man by sliding his thumb along the Indian’s trembling bottom lip, "You can fight and you can struggle all you want, but it'll all be for nothing. You're gonna give into me sooner or later. Now why don't you just shut off that beautiful mind of yours, just this once, and let me take care of you."
Mohinder opened his mouth to say something, but his words died on his tongue when Sylar pressed their lips together in a searing hot kiss.
December 29, 2007 - 3:34 PM
'Three more hours?' His mother paused, sighing wearily into the mouth piece as she took in his words. 'What sort of hospital is this?'
'It can't be helped, Mother,' Mohinder cut in, even as panicked tears threatened to fill his eyes. 'There was an accident and the OR is full. What can I do?'
'Speak to someone,' the woman insisted.
'It's not that simple,' he sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Sylar's curious face before turning back towards the opposite wall. 'I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm an unusual case, remember? If someone were to find out that there was a pregnant man in the building-'
'What about your friends?' she cut in. 'Are they helping you?'
'They are trying,' he shrugged.
"Mohinder?" Sylar began, pressing a hand to the Indian man's shoulder only to have it shrugged off. "Do you want me to get you anything? Water maybe?"
Mohinder frowned, placing his hand over his phone's mouthpiece as he turned to glare over at the concerned serial killer. "No, and you are not leaving this room," he snapped. 'I'm sorry, Mother. What were you saying?'
'I said: you should have gone to a different hospital.'
The geneticist groaned, rubbing at his face wearily. His mother wasn't usually this fussy, except in tense situations like this one. It only served to put him even more on edge as he struggled to calm her fears as well as his own. 'Well I wasn't exactly rich with options.'
'You could have come back to India,' she told him.
Mohinder fell silent, allowing the guilt to eat away at him at the woman's comment. 'I wish I had,' he told her sincerely. He wished that his mother's warm smile would be one of the first sights his child could be treated to, he wished that he were in his homeland among family and friends, and he wished that there was an entire ocean between him and Sylar.
"Mohinder?" The geneticist turned to see Peter standing in the doorway to his room an eager look in his eyes. "Can I talk to you?"
He nodded his head quickly before turning his attention back to his phone call. 'I have to go, Mother,' he said quickly. 'I'll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.'
'No, I will wait until my grandchild is born,' she reminded him stubbornly.
He sighed, rolling his eyes at her comment yet loving her for her devotion. 'Alright then, have it your way. Goodbye Mother.'
'Goodbye my love.'
The geneticist sighed, ending the call and turning his attention back to Peter's earnest face. "I've got good news," Peter declared stepping into the room and pointedly avoiding Sylar's gaze. "We found an opening for you."
"Thank God!" Mohinder breathed, rubbing soothing circles into his stomach.
"You'll be going into surgery in less than an hour," the nurse assured him.
"I want to go in with him."
Peter flinched and Mohinder stiffened at Sylar's words. The two men looked back and forth between each other before staring awkwardly at Sylar's startlingly sincere face. "Sylar... I," Peter began hesitantly, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" the serial killer snapped, reaching over to grasp Mohinder's shoulder. "I'm the father. This is my right."
"Listen," the nurse sighed, "all personal feelings aside, I still don't think it's a good idea. This is a complicated procedure and it’s the first time it'll be performed on a man. If something goes wrong with either Mohinder or the baby, you're just going to be in the way and it'll slow things down."
"If something goes wrong my blood could save his life," Sylar pointed out. "Besides, do you really think you can stop me from seeing my baby being born?"
"Sylar, I don't want you in the operating room with me," Mohinder sighed, shrugging off the other man's gentle touch.
The pale man let out an exasperated huffed, turning his attention back to Mohinder and staring at him intensely. "You owe me this Mohinder," Sylar whispered darkly. "I've given you so much-"
"I don't owe you anything," the Indian cut in. "Don't think that because you got me pregnant that I'm suddenly in your debt."
"I saved your life," he reminded him. "I saved our baby's life. I took you in and took care of you when you had no one else to turn to. God, I kill myself for you, Mohinder, yet you still treat me like dirt. Why can't you just get it through your thick head that I lo-"
"You're a monster and a killer and you murdered my father!" he barked. "I don't like you and I don't want you anywhere near me or my child! Why can't you get the hint and just leave me alone?"
A hurt look flashed over Sylar's face for the briefest moment before being replaced by a dark look of hate. He stood up quickly, knocking over the chair he had been sitting in, before turning on his heels and storming out the door.
August 15, 2007 - 3:17 AM
Sylar had called this their two month anniversary and that was probably what had pushed Mohinder over the edge. These past few months had been emotionally draining to say the least. He found himself learning more about Sylar than he had ever wanted to know. He discovered that Sylar was organized to the point of compulsion, always putting everything in its "proper place" and having a fit when things were moved. He discovered that Sylar could very easily multitask with his telekinesis, a technique he demonstrated by holding Mohinder's body frozen in place while he pinned one of his victims down and sliced their head open. He also found that Sylar liked to spoon. They often fell asleep, lying with his back pressed against Sylar's chest as the serial killer held him tight and stroked his growing stomach with tired fingers.
"I can't wait for you to get bigger," Sylar would whisper to him every night. "I can't wait to see you big and pregnant and all mine."
Mohinder hated the familiarity, he hated the way he was slowly growing used to the sight of blood and the sound of helpless screams, and he hated the way he forced himself justify it all as the only way he could protect his child. Yet that night, when Sylar whispered in his ears that tomorrow they would "celebrate" two months of being together, Mohinder snapped.
A tight ball of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach, disgusted that it had taken him so long to finally build up the courage to sneak away from his captor, but he did it. Mohinder knew he didn't have to worry about Sylar hearing him, his heightened hearing had been lost a long time ago, and escape was surprisingly easy. He took nothing with him, since he had nothing in the first place, and he ran as far as he could for as long as he could. The sun was just barely peaking over the horizon when he decided to take a break.
He slipped behind a gas station, intending to only rest for a little while before his eyes caught the sight of a pay phone less than a foot away. He grasped the phone and quickly punched in what he hoped was the right number and held his breath, praying that the other line would be picked up.
"Hello?" a familiar voice, thick with sleep and struggling to hold back a yawn, answered and Mohinder's heart leapt in his chest.
"Peter? Please. Don't hang up."
There was the faint sound of cloth rustling as the young man on the other line straightened himself, shifting the phone from one hand to the other before speaking again. "Mohinder?"
"Peter... I think I'm in trouble."
December 29, 2007 - 6:33 PM
'It's a boy, Mother,' Mohinder announced proudly, gazing down lovingly at the sand colored bundle resting peacefully in his lap. The baby gurgled, suckling on his tiny digits and scrunching his nose up in his dream like state. ‘Ten inches long. Six pounds, thirteen ounces.'
'Oh! So tiny!' his mother cooed and for a moment, he felt as if she could see the infant perfectly from his vague description alone. 'What are you going to call him?'
'I haven't quite decided,' he told her, resting the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could use his free hand to rub the tips of his fingers against the infant's soft skin.
'Chandra, perhaps?' his mother teased, and Mohinder laughed quietly, suddenly afraid that he would disturb his child.
'Perhaps,' he agreed, rocking the tiny creature in his fatigued arms. 'Are you going to tell Molly the good news?'
'Of course,' she said, a smile clear in her voice. 'And will you be coming back home or should I buy a plane ticket to New York.'
'No need, Mother. The first chance I get, I'll buy a ticket to India and you'll see so much of me and your grandson that you'll be sick of us!' The Indian man's smile widened when the newborn pulled his fingers out of his mouth and attempted to grab Mohinder’s thick digits.
'That'll never happen!' she laughed. 'Well, I will let you get some rest. You're going to need it. Kiss my grandson goodnight for me.'
'Of course,' he chuckled. 'Goodnight, Grandma.'
'Goodnight, Father,' she teased before hanging up.
Mohinder felt his insides warm, letting the strange new words sink in. Father. He was a father. His smile widened further as he placed his cell phone on his side table, and began humming a lullaby to the newborn babe.
"Knock, knock," Peter teased as he entered his hospital room. "How are you feeling?"
Mohinder looked up to see the young nurse wearing a khaki colored jacket over his navy blue scrubs. "Tired," Mohinder answered truthfully. "And in love. I never could have imagined anything so beautiful."
Peter smiled, approaching the new father and his child cautiously. “A boy or a girl?”
“Boy.”
The younger man nodded, his smile widening as he took in the sight before him. "He is adorable," he beamed, kissing the infant's round cheek. "And he looks just like you."
The geneticist laughed, grasping a tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't think so," he whispered, although he had to admit that there was already a strong resemblance. It wasn't just the baby's dark skin or soft black curls that mimicked his own; there were other, little things that seemed to be showing more and more as he gazed down at his child. "Are you leaving?" he asked, glancing at the nurse's coat and shoulder bag.
"Yeah," he shrugged, pulling himself to stand up straight. "I'm gonna take Emma home, then I'll be back in the morning for another eight hour shift. Give or take."
Mohinder nodded. "You and Dr. Coolidge, Emma... are you two-"
"No," Peter cut in quickly. "We're just friends."
"Oh." Mohinder blushed slightly at his mistake. "Is there... someone else?"
"Occasionally," he smirked, a secret twinkling in his dark brown eyes. "He pops in and out once in a while. But, uh, hey, I'll see you in the morning, bright and early."
"Alright. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Peter smiled back. "Get some sleep."
Mohinder nodded as his eyes drifted back towards the little bundle in his arms. The baby had drifted back off to sleep, but Mohinder could not follow him. Even as sleep tugged at his exhausted mind, he fought against it, determined to stay awake to watch over his sleeping child.
"Can I come in?"
The Indian man frowned, looking up to see Sylar already half way into his hospital room, an unreadable look on his face as he gripped the door knob tightly in his large white hands. Mohinder shrugged, but said nothing. There wasn't much he could do to stop him anyway.
Realizing that this was as close to an invitation as he was going to get, Sylar slipped inside, stepping lightly so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. "Is that him?" he asked, pulling up a seat beside him.
"No, my baby's still in the nursery. I just borrowed this one for awhile."
Sylar ignored his sarcastic words as he gazed down at the child sleeping in his arms. Mohinder felt his stomach tightened and his heart beat quicken when he noticed the intense gaze Sylar had pinned on his child. The look made him feel sick and nervous all at once. "He's so beautiful," the serial killer whispered dreamily. "He looks just like you."
Mohinder nodded, pulling the child away on reflex when Sylar reached out to touch the baby’s cheek. "But you already knew that."
Sylar frowned, cocking his head slightly and giving the geneticist a quizzical look. "What?"
"You were in the operating room with me," he concluded.
"How did you-"
"When you walked in here, you instantly knew that the baby was a boy," he clarified. "You were the nurse who held my hand and told me everything would be alright. I knew it was you right away." He sighed, shaking his head wearily at the memory. "You never listen."
"Neither do you," Sylar shot back.
The small hospital room slipped into an uncomfortable silence as the two men gazed down at the child they had created in a moment of passion, neither one of them knowing what to say to each other.
"Can I hold him?" Sylar asked, breaking the sudden silence. "You're falling asleep as it is, just... please let me hold him."
Mohinder heaved a reluctant sigh as he passed the sleeping child over to the other man. "Watch his head," he whispered, anxiously watching the baby as Sylar held him in his stiff, awkward arms. "Be careful with him."
"I will, I will," the serial killer whispered back, slowly settling into an easy position. "Hey there cutie." Mohinder cringed as the murderer cooed and made faces at the sleeping infant. He really wanted to forget this moment, but he knew it'd be burned into his head for a long time. "Have you thought of a name yet?"
"Not yet."
Sylar snorted, his eyes never leaving the baby. "That's a lie. You already know exactly what you're going to call him. You just don't want to tell me."
Mohinder said nothing, he merely sat there watching the other man even as his head bobbed and his eyes threatened to slip shut. "I'm not sorry about what I said before," he said suddenly, hoping that talking would help to keep him awake. "I meant it then, and I still do now. But I will admit that you being here today was... helpful. Waiting by myself would have been terrible. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Sylar said. They fell silent once again and for a moment Mohinder thought he was going to drift off, but Sylar's words brought him back to the waking world. "So what happens now?"
The Indian man sighed, stretching himself out in hopes of waking himself up a bit. "I'm going to stay in New York for a little while and then the baby and I will be moving back to India to live with my mother and Molly."
The American turned and gave him a hurt look, his dark brown eyes begging him to take back his words. "You're taking him away from me? Again?"
"I'm sorry," Mohinder said automatically, then thought better of it. "No. I'm not sorry. You're a horrible person and you'd make a terrible father. You killed my father -- his grandfather -- and I don't want my baby growing up around someone like you. This is the way things have to be."
Sylar scowled. "This isn't fair. You know that I’m in love..."
The serial killer kept talking, but his words soon turned to muffled white noise in Mohinder's ears. The need for sleep became too much for him to fight against and he quickly found his body going limp against his mattress and the world fading away before his eyes.
March 24, 2007 - 2:14 PM
Sylar heaved a pleasant sigh as he lay on the cold floor of Mohinder’s lab, his skin flushed and tingling as he worked to catch his breath. He had never felt so relaxed, so complete in his entire life and it was all because of the beautiful man lying next to him.
"Well," he huffed, turning over to gaze at Mohinder's back dreamily. "That was unexpected."
The Indian man didn't answer. He just laid there still and silent, his breathing labored and far too loud for Sylar's liking. It was only then that the serial killer noticed the series of scales trailing up and down Mohinder's exposed flesh, cringing slightly at the sight of them. They were smooth to the touch, but were oozing and seemed far more painful than the ones flicked across his face and arms. He had to wonder what state of mind Mohinder had been in to inject himself with a formula that could do something like this to him.
"Mohinder?"
The geneticist curled up tighter, wrapping his arms around his waist miserably as he began coughing, his whole body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. Sylar felt himself stiffen as he listened to the horrible hacking sounds the other man made, his stomach twisting in nervous guilt.
"It's okay Mohinder," he whispered, grabbing the Indian's discarded lab coat and wrapping it around the smaller man's middle. "It's okay. I'm here."
Mohinder said nothing -- and somehow that worried him even more -- as Sylar gathered his trembling body in his arms, cradling his small frame against his chest as the Indian continued to cough and hack. They stayed like that for some time, even after Mohinder's coughing fit subsided, and Sylar realized for the first time how serious the man's situation really was.
The tender moment was suddenly interrupted when his phone began to chime and vibrate. Sylar sighed, rolling his eyes as he used his telekinesis to bring the mobile device to his side. "Hello?"
"Gabriel?" Arthur's irritated tone came from the other line. "You were supposed to meet me in my office five minutes ago."
"Sorry Father," he grumbled, the words tasting so awkward and insincere on his tongue. "I was with Dr. Suresh."
"I can see that." The serial killer frowned, lifting his head and spotting the security camera that was pointed right at their naked bodies. "Now stop messing around and get down here right away."
Sylar rolled his eyes in annoyance as his alleged father hung up on him. "I have to go," he whispered, although from the other man's even, raspy breaths, he could tell that Mohinder was already fast asleep. He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the smaller man’s sweat covered forehead. "Don't worry Mohinder. I'll be back. I'm going to take care of you."
December 29, 2007 - 6:55 PM
Sylar heaved a tired sigh as he watched Mohinder slump back against the hospital bed, completely drained of all his energy. Mohinder was stubborn and head strong, but he had never seen him look as beautiful as he did in that exact moment. His hair was a mess and there were thick bags under his eyes, but his whole body was glowing with love for their child and his facial muscles were completely relaxed in sleep, giving him a young, innocent appearance.
"Goodnight you stubborn bastard," Sylar murmured bending over to kiss the Indian man's stubble covered cheek.
The baby squirmed and gurgled in protest as he pressed their bodies too close together. He laughed, smiling down at the sand colored infant resting in his arms. "Hey there," he crooned, rocking the newborn back and forth in his arms. "You're a lot prettier now that you're not covered in blood and goo.
"Your Daddy thinks he can take you away from me, but I'll let you in on a secret: the three of us are meant to be together. We're going to be a family, forever and ever." His smile only widened when the infant yawned, and blindly tried to place his fingers back in his mouth.
"Go to sleep," Sylar whispered pressing a kiss to soft black hair.