Mohinder's apartment had been broken into four times that he knew of, and probably more that he didn't, often by persons with violent intent, uncontrolled powers or both. Add to that the fact that Molly was unconscious across town, Matt was chasing his father issues across the country and that Mohinder really wasn't a virologist, no matter how many ( Read more... )

Mohinder upended the pills and watched them fall. 'You're not doing it.' A couple of them scattered on the grey-pink bathroom tiles and he ducked down to pick them up. 'You're not testing those things on her.' The last few barely made a splash as they fell into the water and sank. 'Just throw them away.'

( And then his day got better/worse (please delete as applicable) )

Mohinder was dead on his feet when he got back to the apartment. He had slept at some point over the past week, he was sure of it. Molly had had a bad week of it - calling out in her sleep even without waking - and they were almost out of options short of calling in the cavalry ( Read more... )

Friday had gone well, and really that should have been his first clue. Mohinder had found sketches of Isaac Mendez' that looked like preliminary work of his last according to S2 painting series. He'd had also found a carrycase he hadn't recognised labeled 'MY FATHER'S RESEARCH', which had stayed locked regardless of how hard he'd tried to break it ( Read more... )

"Doctor, so glad you could make it," Bob said, leaning over his desk to shake Mohinder's hand ( Read more... )

A wave of laminated ID badge had seen Mohinder through one set of double doors, and past one harassed looking orderly. A swipe of the same set one group of lights from green to red and took him through to the medical facility on the first floor. Not where he was supposed to be, strictly speaking, or when he was supposed to be there. Still, the lack ( Read more... )

Mohinder was sure that the Oregon airport was a fine example of its kind. Just one he'd never planned on visiting ( Read more... )

Mohinder was transcribing a stack of handwritten notes onto his laptop. Sometimes flashes of ideas, theories hit and had to be scribbled down on the nearest item to hand, usually after too much coffee and too little sleep ( Read more... )

Mohinder had stopped by the brunch in the park, and arrived to open his office balancing coffee on top of a plate that had decided onnastick was a great culinary invention ( Read more... )

His class plans already set, Mohinder was whiling away the time reading articles that had been forwarded to him. There were some interesting ideas coming out of his old university, as well as some that made him wish he could cite Fandom as a resource. Some were headed in such completely wrong directions that he had half scribbled notes in response ( Read more... )