Breaking Point: Collision
At first, the concrete under Mohinder’s bare feet was freezing cold but after he had been in the cell for longer than a few hours -it became as warm as flesh itself. After that initial irritation was gone-there only remained the tube in his nostril, pumping his mind full of chemicals that made it difficult to form a thought let alone articulate one by speaking. An hour prior, the tube was removed so he could speak to Senator Petrelli personally. And now he was drugged again, chained down to the chair in the center of the cell. A spreader bar at the back of his arms with a chain bolted to weigh him down. Should he try and use his enhanced strength to wrench himself free-he’ll dislocate his shoulder at the very least which is incentive enough to stay put.
Suresh sat there in a dazed state in which he could barely register the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. Heavy footsteps, perhaps intentionally so, thudded on that concrete floor as the door closed softly again. Mohinder didn’t care if it was another of Nathan’s men-the man had already told him he would be moved from the cell-so he kept his head hanging down, staring at the chains wrapped at his ankles. As the footsteps continued toward him, there was another sound. Something that resembled a ‘clanking’ metal banging against something. The metal itself didn’t belong to anything heavy as the sound was relatively quiet, but the distinct metal noise couldn’t be ignored. There seemed to be a rhythm to it-clank, pause, clank, pause-and then just silence as even the boots were silent.
Mohinder suddenly sat bolt upright-tugging painfully on the bolted down bar at his arms. A rush of ice-cold water from out of nowhere splashed against his face and chest-it soaked the olive green t-shirt he’d been detained in and the material clung tightly to his lean chest and stomach like a slimy second skin. He yelped out in shock and then instant pain as he had leaned too far on one side and Suresh could practically feel the joint of his shoulder twisting enough to pop right out. No different than that of a plastic limb of a toy being mishandled by a cruel child who wanted to take it apart piece by piece. He blinked quickly to avoid the water drops twisting around his curls and spinning off into his face. As he slowly lifted his sore neck to see his assailant-he came across the most disconcerting presence in the cell with him.
Suresh’s eyes traveled from the heavy black combat boots up the black trousers, belted at the man’s rather skinny waist. A black wife-beater the only shirt to speak off and it fit so well to a surprisingly thin form. This man always held such an imposing presence that to see how thin he really was was something of a shock to Mohinder. His brown eyes flitted from the black material to the tufts of dark chest hair poking out from the neck of the shirt. Smooth pale skin then a field of stubble that could be perfectly traced from his neck up his jaw and chin to those smirking pink lips. He watched as they moved to speak.
“Hello Dr. Suresh…or well I suppose you’re not really much of that anymore are you? Oh, sorry about the wake-up, but I needed you more coherent …and that shit in your brain is hard to see through without a nice jolt to the system.”
Sylar held the emptied bucket in his left hand as the remaining water continued to drip down to the floor. He flung his arm and the resulting clang of the metal against the concrete walls was enough to give both men temporary pause as their ears rang insistently. His boots squeaked against the floor as he moved forward to Suresh, his hand reached out to entangle his fingers into the man’s sopping wet strands.
“Now see, this is more like it. This is how it should have been when we saw each other last. I should have opened that door in Pinehearst and you should have been waiting for me just…like…this. But you had your own version of events already in your mind didn’t you? Heh. Vengeance…finally you would have vengeance in the name of a man who threw aside his own flesh and blood to guide a lost soul at the detriment to his own life. It’s been a while now Mohinder and Chandra’s ashes are only spreading more-you should learn to move on.”
Sylar was expecting the chain to tense as Mohinder would feel the struggle renew in his blood. It didn’t. He roughly slammed Mohinder’s head forward as he let go of his hair to start pacing in front of him. Suresh cried out in pain but was silent after that.
“Things don’t go the way you want them to, Mohinder. You really need to learn that by now. I’ll take great pleasure in teaching you however, in the coming weeks and months as you work for the noble senator…it will be like it’s always meant to be. You and I have been destined to work together since we stood across from each other separated only by that screen door in Virginia. Had Pinehearst not fallen apart and I, admittedly, had not become distracted with other pursuits-we already would have been side by side. You and your ever so precious research…makes you quite the commodity everywhere you go. Even if you have relegated such important work to a dust-covered file box stashed underneath your floorboards.”
That got Sylar his expected reaction as the chain was tugged upon for a moment.
“But don’t worry… Nathan will provide you with everything you require to do your work, Doctor.”
Sylar stopped behind Mohinder, his hands moved to rest on the man’s shoulders, he felt so warm now as his body heat emanated to combat the cold water on his skin. He leaned down with his lips dangerously close to brushing against the shell of Mohinder’s ear as he whispered.
“I’ve wanted this for so long now Suresh…For so long, I figured my life would be spent alone and now I know with certainty that you were sent to be with me. It’s…”
His lips pursed and gently kissed Mohinder’s neck as the man flinched underneath his grip. Breathing in his scent while he whispered.
“…our destiny.”
Sylar’s eyes were closed as he reached down to set one hand on Mohinder’s damp chest. Just losing himself in the rhythm of Suresh’s quickly beating heart. He almost didn’t hear Mohinder’s first words since he entered the room.
“…I refused.”
His heart beat faster after speaking, Sylar’s eyes opened slowly and he pulled away from Suresh as he walked in front of the seated man.
“What…did you just say?”
Mohinder looked up, his normally smooth cultured accent inhibited with the nasal shunt. Now it was Mohinder who had the barest traces of a smirk on his lips.
“I refused…said no…I will not work with him or anyone else…He’s having me transported, you won’t see me again, Gabriel.”
Now it was Sylar own heart that raced in his chest, lips parting as he looked down in shock at Mohinder. Quickly he moved forward and grabbed Mohinder by the chin, yanking him forward some as the bar banged into his shoulder blades.
“No you…you don’t realize what you’ve done…You don’t realize what you’ve done Suresh!”
Roughly, he let go of the man and moved to the door. Transported meant the plane. The plane meant certain execution, and for refusing the senator Mohinder would surely be on that list. Unless Sylar could persuade him otherwise. He glanced over his shoulder at Mohinder. The naïve, stubborn man who could bring him the closest thing he ever had to happiness.
“I’m going to fix this.”
Sylar turned on his heel, hand out to open the door when he heard Mohinder’s voice one more time.
“No…he’s going to fix you. He wants to fix all of this … cure the disease. Cure himself. That’s what he wanted from me…I won’t. I won’t tamper with these things, not again.”
In the doorway, Sylar had to remind himself to breathe while Suresh spoke. Nathan wanted to take it away-all of it. No, he wasn’t going to take away Suresh and he was not going to take away his abilities. Sylar had been down the powerless road far too many times now and it was one that he’d do anything to avoid. He moved through the cell door and it closed loudly behind him as he made his way down the hall and to the office Nathan worked out of when he was in Building 2-6.
After all of the preparation, the ops to capture their intended targets, the detaining process-it all lead to this. Nathan leaned over his desk, checking the flight manifest for flight 195, the private transport plane that would be sending all of their current detainees away to a secure facility off the coast of the Florida Keys. It would have been where they would serve as test subjects but with Suresh’s refusal it will be where the first wave is terminated. Nathan wasn’t expecting Mohinder to refuse and now had to rethink what about his options regarding the treatment of this special individuals. There were other talented geneticists out there, perhaps he should start contacting a few of them. His locked office door clicked a few times before the door itself swung open. Nathan looked up and saw Sylar standing in the doorway for a moment, his eyes narrowed in determination.
“We need to talk.”
Nathan stood up all the way and shrugged slightly as he motioned for his brother to come into the office all the way.
“Thought I gave you the day off. While I appreciate your commitment to the job…you don’t need to be here, Sylar.”
Sylar’s stomach twisted up that much more as he walked forward.
“Give me more time with him. I’ll convince him, Nathan.”
He moved to meet Sylar’s steps as they stood in the center of the room. Nathan’s face was completely nonplussed as he looked up at his brother’s face.
“I’m going to assume you mean Dr. Suresh and if so, he made his choice. What happens next is something he could have prevented. “
Sylar curled his lip and lifted his hand at his side-no move was yet made against his sibling. His tone of voice was tense but still controlled.
“I can convince him…do not do this, Nathan.”
Nathan rolled his eyes and turned away, walking back to his desk and he sat down behind it.
“Mohinder is already on the list, he will be moved from his cell, and put on the plane this evening. Look, this isn’t about doing you any special favors which-your even being here right now, should be considered a favor from me to you that you still haven’t repaid. This is about keeping the public safe and when you keep these people locked up for long periods of time as-is you’re only asking for disaster. It’s tempting Murphy’s law with the potential for escape. It’s why Primatech failed. Besides, if he’s not even working on his research anymore, I’d venture that Mohinder has outlived his usefulness.”
Sylar turned on his heel and stormed out of the office-Nathan’s door slammed shut behind him. Nathan sat behind his desk for a moment, calm. Suddenly the side of his face crashed into the back wall thanks to a very skilful telekinetic shove from outside the office door. Nathan’s chair was overturned as he remained on his knee, bracing himself from just falling to the floor entirely. It didn’t matter to Nathan if his younger brother was unhappy.-there was no special treatment. Except for Peter who was to be loaded onto the plane then discreetly transferred to a private facility. Nathan wasn’t the kind of monster to kill his own brother, of course.
Large black vans pulled into the hangar, each contained three prisoners for immediate transport Every ounce of forethought that could be made had been put into practice through a series of precautionary measures. Each detainee wore a device strapped to his or her chest that kept a continuous flow of liquid sedative running from the main device up a nasal insert. The tube led directly to the brain-the idea of which was to keep the prisoner both relatively placated and also keep the total capability of mental concentration down to a minimum. It was much more difficult to access abilities this way. Certain detainees such as 674-TS had on protective gloves just in case the first measures were somehow obstructed. It kept her hands out of play should an attempted escape occur. Thankfully for the guards on shift today, there were only two detainees wearing said gloves during today’s transport-it was always nerve-wracking to move them as they could be potentially some of the more dangerous detainees.
All of the guards were in full uniform as protocol dictated while they escorted the detainees together. One of the men then went through the process of tying all of the prisoners to one another to be lead onto the waiting plane. A cluster of bright orange jump-suits that were starkly contrasted by black boots and black hoods as the shackled detainees were urged onto the ramp then the plane itself. It was a bit like ushering a friend out of a bar who’d had too much to drink. A great deal of shuffled footsteps and attempts to veer off the path. Each guard strong-armed their respective detainee into the seats that had been bolted into the cargo hold of the transport plane. Prisoner 674-TS was carefully seated, strapped down into the wrist and ankle restraints then the tube was casually pulled out by the guard who had locked her in. His gloved hand moved down to slip one of her thick insulated gloves off her hand entirely. It was folded and placed in his pocket as he turned on his heel and walked back to his post by the cabin.
Eventually all of the other detainees were secured into their seats and all but three of the guards filed out of the plane. The ramp went up and the engines whirred to life. Prisoner 674-TS slowly began to regain her cognizance. Her senses were dampened by the hood and the earmuffs placed over but her sense of touch could gauge so many things. Her free hand rubbed over the surface of the seat’s arm. She suddenly gripped it and sure enough-the arm began to crackle and freeze over. Followed shortly by the wrist restraint as it froze solid, and was easily broken apart. Now her adrenaline surged through her body, she reached and tore the earmuffs off, as well as the hood. Tousled blonde hair and pale blue eyes revealed themselves as Tracy took advantage of the guards having a conversation by the cabin. Soon, she was working on the last restraint on her right ankle-it was then that the tallest of the three guards noticed and alerted the other two agents to the escape attempt. Both quickly ran over, guns raised to tranquilize her but by then, Tracy had freed herself from the chair entirely and began to put up a fight.
During the melee, Prisoner 676-MS managed to tightly grip the hand of a fellow prisoner. The need for contact-for some form of comfort during this terrifying experience of waking up blind and nearly deafened lead to his fingers stretching out and grasping onto his fellow detainee’s hand. A slight jolt occurred though neither man was truly aware of it. As Tracy Strauss used her ability to completely freeze one of the guards, the tallest remaining agent quickly moved across the cargo hold and over to 676-MS. He reached out and yanked the hood and earmuffs off the man in swift gesture. Mohinder’s curls were damp with sweat from the hood and his eyes were bloodshot from the drug being pumped into him. The agent took a moment to look at that face…before he tore the nasal shunt out of his nostril and set about unlocking the restraints. Suresh mumbled for a few moments before his mental clarity came back to him and he realized the agent who helped him had removed his face mask.
“You’re going to be okay Suresh. I’m getting you out of here, I don’t care what Nathan wants.”
Sylar stood up fully, he gazed at Mohinder’s face as he telekinetically opened all of his restraints at once. He held out his hand warily-Mohinder could still refuse to take it. Suresh was shocked that Sylar was doing this-that he was risking his life it seemed to come back for him. It knotted Mohinder’s stomach to think that Sylar could be so reckless and all if it was for him. He didn’t know what to make of that but he couldn’t turn down a way out as he reached for Sylar’s waiting hand.
But it was then that the plane began to lift off the ground-wheels retracted back into the plane itself and a sudden jerk sent Sylar and Mohinder down to the floor along with Tracy and the guard restraining her. Every delicate finger on both of her hands was frosted over with quickly spreading ice crystals-she landed at the side of the cargo hold and when her hand touched the side door, it began to freeze over. In less than a few seconds, the pressure of the ice on the door caused the door to snap out of its hinges and fly through the night sky as the gravitational pull sent everyone inside toward the open door. Tracy managed to brace herself well enough but the guard she fought with was swiftly sucked out of the plane.
Sylar desperately tried to grasp for Mohinder’s hand as his own body started to slide backwards toward the door. Mohinder’s hand was gripped around a suspension bar-an errant restraint flapped in the virtual wind tunnel. Enhanced strength kept Suresh’s hold on the bar firm as he found himself straining to grab for Sylar’s hand. But it was too late and Mohinder watched as another turbulence patch hit and shook Sylar’s body out of the plane and plummeting to the ground below. In that moment, both men were screaming the name of the other. Suresh struggled to hold on as the plane beeped loudly-a variety of emergency signals going off while the plane creaked into a downward spiral.
A blur of orange sped past Mohinder’s eye-line and he instinctively reached his free hand out for the detainee that would have been flung from the plane just as Sylar had been. He squinted from the air as it stung at his eyes while it whipped throughout the cargo hold. His stomach flipped and he held even tighter to the young man who was revealed to be a past fare of his and so much more.
“Peter, just hold onto me!”
Both men were slammed up and down as the plane shook into a crash landing. Another few detainees were sucked out-one strapped down in his seat still the entire way out. What was now miles away, Sylar lay still in a field. A branch lodged into the back of his head from the fall through the trees he experienced before hitting the ground. His eyes were milky and blank as he lay there-the last thought he’d had before the branch’s impact was that he’d failed and now Mohinder was dead. It was all because of him.
Present Day
Faded, white sheets lay in a rumpled pile next to the mattress. Their bodies enrobed each other as they twisted and writhed-sweat-soaked and panting. In the beginning, neither man could have imagined this being where they’d end up in a span of months. So much had changed since that plane hit the ground-since both men managed to survive and fight their way from the wreckage and into a life on the run together. But now as their lips locked together and their tongues twisted, it seemed to Peter at least that this was the path he had to travel in order to find some semblance of happiness. Which was a feeling he felt so close to now. But for Mohinder, this was something so vastly different. It was a catharsis, it was the best way to ease the guilt he carried with him for everything that’s happened in his life over the past two years. There was something to be said for being able to provide a connection for Peter to grip onto but for Mohinder he just indulged in how the pain could make him feel cleansed of wrong-doing. Of picking up in his father’s footsteps where he did not belong. Of turning himself into a monster, and helping to alienate some of the people closest to him. For being responsible for the death of a man who, there was no questioning, had it coming for all the sins he’d trespassed against all walks of life. Could one simple act of selflessness wash away months of self-centered, wrathful acts? Every night he was haunted by the image of Sylar getting tossed out of that plane.