Fic: Hereafter (Sylar/Mohinder, ensemble)
It's a blessedly quiet morning at Mohinder's apartment, his first day off in weeks, and he's relieved enough about it that he's not even offended that Molly requested Fruit Loops when he told her he'd cook her any breakfast she wanted; though why she did is a mystery to him, as she spends more of the meal sullenly pushing the pieces around the bowl than she does eating.
“Finish your cereal, Molly,” Mohinder says.
Molly complies without the argument that she used to put up when they were a family of three. She’s skittish, Mohinder knows, scared that she’ll be sent away now that the Boogeyman is back yet again. Matt Parkman offered to take her in, offered her the protection of his ability and a stable family in southern California, but Mohinder doesn’t trust him near either of them after what he has done. It’s partly his fault that Sylar is still looming over their lives like a shadow, instead of dead and gone like he was supposed to be.
The brainwashing that Matt had done to convince Sylar that he was Nathan Petrelli had finally worn off completely just ten days ago. Mohinder was somewhat relieved to have an explanation for Nathan’s increasingly erratic behaviour but appalled by the cover-up perpetrated by Matt, Noah Bennet and Angela Petrelli. He handed in his resignation from the Company immediately upon hearing the news, telling them that he could not associate himself with an organization run by conspirators who would let a dangerous killer go free and withhold the news of a man’s death from his own daughter and brother.
Noah and Angela tried to sway him from resignation by claiming that their actions were for the greater good, but Mohinder was unconvinced. He finally agreed to reconsider on the argument that, aside from the Company, those with abilities had no one to guide them through the discovery of their powers or protect them from those who were aware of their existence and considered them a danger. Ultimately, Mohinder knew, the abhorrent behaviour of a few individuals was no reason to give up on thousands of people and he could do much more good with the backing of the Company behind him than on his own-especially since Emile Danko had been exonerated and now had a handful of followers dedicated to subverting the Company’s work.
Peter, on the other hand, was disgusted enough to sever all ties with his mother and Noah and his whereabouts were currently unknown. Not even Mohinder had a means of contacting him.
Sylar had been equally invisible since his initial reappearance and no bodies had been found-that doesn’t mean that they don’t exist, Mohinder reminds himself-so Mohinder had decided to keep Molly with him for the time being.
A knock at the door interrupts their quiet breakfast. Three raps, in quick succession. Mohinder pushes his chair out and stands up. The knocking repeats itself.
He makes it to the door, looks out the peephole, and immediately pulls out his phone. He pushes speed dial number two.
“Go to your room, Molly,” Mohinder says.
“But Mohinder, you said - ” Molly begins, but her protests peter out when Mohinder turns to her with a desperate look that she hasn’t seen since that day he’d sent her away.
“Go to your room, Molly,” he says and she drops her spoon into her cereal, splashing milk all over the table, and dashes away.
“I’ll keep an eye on you," she says and she shuts her bedroom door.
The knocking continues to increase in frequency until it becomes a steady, uninterrupted stream.
Mohinder opens the door as much as the chain will allow him.
“Couldn’t you have just opened the door yourself?” he says to man standing in the hall with a fist poised half-an-inch from where the closed door would have been.
“That would have been impolite, Mohinder,” Sylar says and snaps the chain with his mind. He leans his shoulder against the door and tries to force it open, but Mohinder holds it in place with ease.
“Much like failing to greet an old friend whom you haven’t seen in a year.” Sylar puts pressure on the door one more time before giving up with an exasperated sigh and an over-dramatic roll of his eyes and using telekinesis to shove Mohinder out of the way.
“I saw you two weeks ago,” Mohinder says as Sylar crosses the threshold.
“You saw Nathan Petrelli,” Sylar says.
“What do you want?”
A scream sounds from the bedroom before Sylar can answer and the two men run towards it to see the room empty and the window open. They look out and see Molly being dragged down the fire escape by several people in black fatigues.
Sylar raises his hand to halt their escape, but when he twitches his fingers nothing happens. He furrows his brow at them and his body suddenly spasms and falls to the ground.
Mohinder looks to the bedroom door. Noah Bennet stands there with a taser pointed at Sylar, the Haitian at his side.
Mohinder gapes at them for half of a second before gathering his wits and running out the window as fast as he can. He hopes that the superhuman strength in his leg muscles will allow him enough speed to compensate for lost time.
It doesn’t.
Molly and her kidnappers have disappeared into the city.
Mohinder returns defeated to his apartment as Noah and his partner prepare to load Sylar into the van for transport back to the Company’s headquarters.
“She’s gone,” he says.
“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Noah says. “We have the resources to find her.”
He looks down at Sylar.
“At least the day wasn’t a total loss.”
***
“Why is that man still alive?” Mohinder slams the door of Angela Petrelli's office so hard as he opens it that the knob punches a hole in the wall.
“It’s customary to knock, Doctor Suresh,” Angela says evenly, her eyes not leaving her paperwork.
“Apparently it’s also customary to keep a murderer alive to kill again, since we’ve all been doing so much of it.”
“Doctor Suresh." Angela raises her eyes to Mohinder though her head remains tilted toward her desk. “Sylar has led us to believe that he possesses information and abilities that will give us an advantage over Danko’s followers. We would be remiss to dispose of such a potentially valuable resource.”
“We’ve both thought that before, and we both suffered for it. Other people have died for it."
Angela stands up, her back perfectly straight, and looks Mohinder in the eye.
“Doctor,” she says, “I have no interest in allowing our enemies to maintain possession of a resource that will allow them to locate any known person of ability or employee of this organization at any time, and if Sylar can help us regain that then I believe the benefits outweigh the liabilities.”
“Wait, he says he can help us find Molly?”
“Yes, he does,” she says. “However, he has one stipulation.”
“And that is?”
“He will only speak with you.”
“Of course,” Mohinder mutters under his breath. He looks down at the floor, runs his fingers through his hair, and paces the width of Angela’s office.
“Fine,” he says, stopping his movements, his eyes rising to meet Angela’s. “But I have a stipulation of my own.”
“And what might that be?”
“After we find Molly,” he says, “he dies.”
“Done,” she says, without hesitation.
***
Mohinder is led to a cell deep within the Company’s headquarters.
He flicks the light switch and turns on the intercom.
“Hello, Mohinder." Sylar is lying on a small padded bench in the middle of a grey cell, drugged to the gills but still coherent.
“I understand you wanted to speak with me,” Mohinder says.
“I’m not the only one." Sylar slurs the words with a slight sing-song inflection, drawing out the long vowels.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Let me out of here,” Sylar says. “And you’ll find out.”
“You know that’s not possible.”
“I’m not asking that you free me, Mohinder. You can have the Haitian just outside the door with a battalion of armed guards ready to blow my head off, just let me have some time alone with you and my abilities.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“They’ll thank you for this,” Sylar says.
Mohinder doesn’t bother to ask who. He knows Sylar will just answer with a smirk.
***
They’re in a different room this time: an interrogation room with a table in the middle, a chair on either side of it. Sylar sits across from Mohinder with his cuffed hands-a formality, of course-resting on its surface.
The Haitian stands outside, as Sylar suggested, just a step away from negating Sylar’s powers. Noah Bennet is there too, at his own insistence, along with a couple of guards whose names Mohinder has yet to learn - not quite a battalion, which Mohinder is sure will bruise Sylar’s ego, but the Haitian’s power obviates the need for one.
“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” Mohinder begins.
“Yes,” Sylar says, smiling like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Well? What do you know about Danko’s operation? Where can we find Molly?”
“Don’t you want to know about my new ability, Mohinder?”
Mohinder rubs his eyes. “Is it relevant to the topic at hand?”
“It’s relevant to what you want to know.”
“Fine." Mohinder folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Tell me all about your new ability.”
“I can speak with the dead."
Mohinder stands up and slaps his left hand down on the table, points at Sylar with his right. “If you don’t plan on taking this seriously,” he says, but he doesn’t finish. Sylar isn’t even looking at his face-he’s sliding his hands across the table and taking Mohinder’s left hand in his own.
“What are you doing?” Mohinder asks, his anger forgotten in the face of Sylar’s bizarre actions. He starts to yank his hand away but Sylar holds on. He gives up and sits back down, curious about where this is going.
Sylar slides his hands to Mohinder’s thumb and starts fingering the ring around it. He twists it back and forth.
“This is a family heirloom,” he says. “You’re father got it from your grandfather when he married your mother. He gave it to you when you got your PhD-thought that was a more important event in a man’s life.”
“My father could have easily told you that while he was alive.”
“Don’t worry,” Sylar says, suddenly squeezing Mohinder’s hand and looking up to catch his eyes. “I can’t talk to her yet. I know that’s what you’re thinking, that you’re afraid and trying to hide it behind a façade of scepticism and bravado. That’s very ‘you’. He agrees.”
“You’ve said nothing so far to support your claims,” Mohinder starts to say, but Sylar just looks back down at the ring and continues as if he can’t even hear him.
“The last time you saw your grandfather, he tried to take it back,” he says. “Didn’t remember who you were, thought you stole it from him. He threatened to call the police. Your father doesn’t know about that. You never told him, did you? Trying to protect him from his father’s weaknesses just like he wanted to protect you from his own.”
Sylar moves his fingertips from the ring, trying to twine the fingers of his left hand with Mohinder’s own. Mohinder jumps, startled, and pulls his hand away. He looks back up to Sylar’s smirking face.
“What does this have to do with Molly?” Mohinder's voice is shakier than he would like.
“I can’t talk to her. I can talk to people who have a very personal interest in her safety and ways of knowing things that I don’t. People who keep an eye on her and who used to hold her hand and read her The Little Prince when she was sick, until you took those duties over.”
“Well? What do these sources have to say, Sylar?”
“You’re planning on executing me after you get your information, are you not?”
“No.”
Sylar shudders. “Of course you are. I can tell when you lie Mohinder; did they not tell you that?”
“I assume you’re looking for some sort of deal, then?”
“They didn’t, did they?” Sylar says, ignoring his words again. “Maybe you should avoid mentioning to them what we talked about in here, then. I know you’re all about retaliation.”
Mohinder rolls his eyes and sighs in irritation. It makes him feels comfortable in front of Sylar-back on familiar ground.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, wearily, and stands to leave.
“You’re just doing it for Molly, right?” Mohinder can hear Sylar's smirk in his voice.
“Yes,” he says, walking out the door.
“That tingles, Mohinder,” he hears faintly from behind him.
He doesn’t know what the hell Sylar is talking about and he doesn’t care.
***
Mohinder enters Angela Petrelli’s office.
“How kind of you to knock, Doctor Suresh,” Angela says, smiling with her lips pressed tightly together.
Mohinder answers her with a smile that is less sardonic but just as forced and tentatively approaches the chair opposite her own.
“May I?” he asks.
“By all means,” she replies, gesturing toward the chair with her right hand before folding it with her left on top of her desk.
He sits down and explains the meeting with Sylar, the new power Sylar demonstrated to him, and the information he claims to possess.
“He’ll help us if we bargain with him,” he says. “He’s obviously angling for a delay or cancellation of his own execution. I know what I said earlier but I think we should give it to him.”
“Doctor Suresh,” Angela says. “Given how pointedly you avoided looking at the damage to my office wall, I doubt you've forgotten your earlier outburst. Quite the change of heart, wouldn’t you say?”
“I only want to help Molly.”
“I’m sure that’s one factor in this sudden about-face.”
Mohinder narrows his eyes. “What exactly are you suggesting, Mrs. Petrelli?”
“Doctor Suresh, I know what you’re thinking-Lord knows I’ve had the same thoughts. You think that you’re willing to pay any price to speak to your loved ones again, but when you hear their words coming out of that man's mouth you will want to be sick to your stomach.”
Her voice gets progressively louder and harsher as she speaks, before cutting off abruptly; then she is silent for a moment, apparently gathering her thoughts-it’s the first time that Mohinder has seen her look anything but completely collected. He waits for her to speak again.
“Tell me again, Doctor Suresh,” she finally says. “How is it that you are so convinced that this new power is genuine?”
“He told me things about my past-things that only my grandfather and I could have known. I was sceptical at first, but -”
“Did he touch you?” Angela asks, suddenly.
“What?”
“While he told you this,” she says, “did he touch you?”
“Yes.”
***
“You bastard!”
Mohinder bangs his open palms against the glass of Sylar’s cell. It starts to crack and splinter-they’re going to have to move him now.
“Hello Mohinder,” Sylar says from his bench. “Is there a problem?”
“Bridget Bailey.” Mohinder clenches his fists. “The ability to know the history of any object just by touching it.”
Sylar laughs.
“You’re going to die in here,” Mohinder says.
“I’ll forgive you,” Sylar says. “They all do. Tell Maya that Carmen forgives her. For what happened at the wedding. Not for picking the burgundy dress, though, not when she looked so much more beautiful in the green.”
“What are you talking about?” Mohinder says.
Sylar ignores him.
***
The Company had been keeping tabs on Maya ever since they had re-formed after Sylar’s ‘death’-ostensibly for her own welfare, but Mohinder suspected that they kept tabs on anyone with intimate knowledge of abilities out of fear that they would go blabbing to the general public about them. Mohinder had sent her an anonymous note when Sylar had resurfaced, believing that she had the right to know, and she had shown up on the Company’s doorstep the following day asking to be trained as an agent. Angela Petrelli had relented-perhaps, Mohinder suspected, because the senseless loss of her own loved one to Sylar stirred in her a sense of compassion that was strongly felt and acted upon, if not explicitly communicated.
A selfish part of Mohinder resented Angela’s choice-not out of any resentment for Maya herself, but rather for the potential awkwardness of working with someone toward whom he had behaved so shamefully. Mohinder had been deliberately avoiding her since they had begun sharing a workplace, and he suspected that she had been doing the same to him.
So it was that their meeting in the hall outside of Sylar’s cell was the first time they had seen each other in a year.
“Maya,” he says, and stares a little dumbly. He’s unsure if he’ll be able to look her in the eye long enough to make small talk, let alone broach the subject of Sylar and his cryptic statements.
She is, it seems, more prepared for this meeting than he is, and she cuts to the chase: “Is it true that Sylar has the ability to speak with the dead?”
“It’s true that he claims to,” Mohinder says.
“You believe he is lying?”
Mohinder shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “He says that Carmen forgives you. She still thinks you should have worn the green dress. Does that mean anything to you?”
Maya looks down and covers her face with her hands. Mohinder hears her breath catch. When she looks up he sees that tears are streaming down her cheeks-clear and innocuous and heartbreaking. “It means very much to me,” she says.
“Is there any way he could have known-”
“No,” Maya says. “This was not something that I ever discussed with Ga-with Sylar.”
“Would you like to-” Mohinder can’t believe he’s offering this. “Would you like me to arrange for you to speak with him about it?”
“No,” Maya says, quickly enough to indicate that there will be no further discussion on the matter.
The conversation dissolves into awkward silence.
“If you choose to see him again,” Maya finally says. “Please tell him to let them all know that I am sorry. Especially Alejandro.”
“Maya, I don’t really believe-”
“I know you don’t, Mohinder. Humour me.”
“Okay."
They exchange an awkward hug and continue on their respective ways.
***
Mohinder decides to set up one final meeting with Sylar before his execution. It will be worth it to make Maya happy.
In the meantime, he contacts Claire Bennet in hopes of getting in touch with Peter Petrelli. If anyone will know where to reach him, it’s her. If Peter can get there in time, if he can take Sylar’s abilities, then maybe Mohinder will be able to put to rest his recent suspicions that not every single thing that Sylar says is a lie. And if he does have some ability that can help them find Molly, well, then he’ll be able to take advantage of it without looking at that smug face for one more second.
Angela assures him that all those people with abilities that may aid them in their search are being used to their full potential. She’s sleeping as much as possible, just in case she sees something. She now seems determined to rescue Molly without any help at all from Sylar.
Mohinder realizes that she is looking forward to Sylar's death as much as he is.
***
“Did you get me a deal, Mohinder?” Sylar asks as Mohinder takes his seat. “You did, didn’t you? I knew I could count on you.”
“Actually,” Mohinder says. “I have a favour to ask of you first.”
“Anything for you.”
“It’s actually for Maya."
“Ha,” Sylar says-speaks the word, although he doesn’t actually laugh. “Well. What can I do for the lovely Miss Herrera?”
Mohinder swallows, lowers his eyes. “She just wants them to know that she’s sorry,” he says, quietly, embarrassed. His forehead rests on his fingers and his temple on his thumb.
“Who, exactly?”
“Everyone she’s hurt,” Mohinder says. “Alejandro.”
Sylar closes his eyes, breathes deeply. He is silent for several moments. “Done,” he says when he opens his eyes. “All is forgiven.”
"Is that it?" Mohinder snorts and shakes his head. “That was the most ridiculous display,” he says, “that I have ever,” his words trailing off into incredulous laughter.
“I think I know why you’re so reluctant to believe me, Mohinder,” Sylar says. “Because if I can speak to them, they’re not really gone. What I’ve done isn’t so bad.”
“You are a monster -”
“See? There’s so much I can give you, Mohinder, if you just let go. I can give you back everything I’ve taken away. Your father. Eden. You can speak to them through me.” The handcuffs fall off of Sylar’s wrists without being touched and Sylar’s face starts to pulsate, bones shifting and realigning themselves before Mohinder’s eyes until Eden is sitting across the table from him.
“I never even got to spend the night with you,” she says, taking his face in her hands and moving in to kiss him.
“Oh my God." Mohinder nearly trips over his chair running out of the room, trying to make it to the bathroom before he throws up all over the floor.
***
Mohinder is sleeping in his office, dreaming a dream in which everyone he loves turns into Sylar.
A voice in his dream commands him to wake up. He feels compelled to obey.
Someone is knocking on his door and he answers it.
“Sorry about that,” Matt says. “I know it’s uncool but I was knocking for like ten minutes. You need to get more sleep.”
“It’s okay,” Mohinder yawns. He’s too tired to remember that he and Matt haven’t spoken since Nathan’s secret came out. “What’s going on?”
“I found her,” Matt says. “I just - I just listened for her and she was calling me, calling out my name with her thoughts. She told me where she is.”
That wakes him up. “Matt!” he says. “You’re amazing!” And they embrace, laughing, all their differences forgotten.
***
Recovering Molly from Danko’s followers is relatively easy for the Company with Matt Parkman on their side. They practically deliver her to their front door and turn themselves in. Molly is unharmed: the organization was planning on using her as a tracker, just as Angela had suggested.
“Mohinder,” Molly says as he sits with her in the back of one of the Company’s vans, driving back to headquarters to check in before they can go back home. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” he says.
“Promise you won’t think I’m weird?” she says.
“Promise.”
“Sometimes, when I get scared or sad or just bored, I look for my parents. I know I won’t find them, I never find anything, I just like looking.”
“That’s not weird at all, Molly.”
“Um. I haven’t gotten to the weird part yet,” she says. “Okay. So I looked for them while I was - while those bad people had me, and sometimes I would see someone.”
“Who did you see, Molly?”
“The Boogeyman.”
***
Mohinder is greeted at the Company’s headquarters by Peter-Claire must have finally gotten his message to him. It’s too late, but he’s glad to see him anyway.
Mohinder reaches out to shake his hand, but Peter jumps back.
“Why don’t you take Molly inside,” Peter says to Matt. Matt nods and takes Molly’s hand, leading her into the building.
Peter turns to Mohinder. “He’s gone,” he says. “Nothing left but ashes. His last request was to see me.”
“Why you?”
“Because you wouldn’t see him,” Peter says. “And he wanted to say his last words to you in person.”
Mohinder grabs Peter’s hand, too quick for Peter to steel himself against the influx of power. Boundless strength flows into him, dislodging any other abilities that Peter may have acquired.
They leave his body and dissolve into nothingness, as dead and gone as the man from whom they were taken.
“Why?” Peter asks Mohinder, their hands gripping each other like two vices.
“I didn’t want to know,” Mohinder says.
“Finish your cereal, Molly,” Mohinder says.
Molly complies without the argument that she used to put up when they were a family of three. She’s skittish, Mohinder knows, scared that she’ll be sent away now that the Boogeyman is back yet again. Matt Parkman offered to take her in, offered her the protection of his ability and a stable family in southern California, but Mohinder doesn’t trust him near either of them after what he has done. It’s partly his fault that Sylar is still looming over their lives like a shadow, instead of dead and gone like he was supposed to be.
The brainwashing that Matt had done to convince Sylar that he was Nathan Petrelli had finally worn off completely just ten days ago. Mohinder was somewhat relieved to have an explanation for Nathan’s increasingly erratic behaviour but appalled by the cover-up perpetrated by Matt, Noah Bennet and Angela Petrelli. He handed in his resignation from the Company immediately upon hearing the news, telling them that he could not associate himself with an organization run by conspirators who would let a dangerous killer go free and withhold the news of a man’s death from his own daughter and brother.
Noah and Angela tried to sway him from resignation by claiming that their actions were for the greater good, but Mohinder was unconvinced. He finally agreed to reconsider on the argument that, aside from the Company, those with abilities had no one to guide them through the discovery of their powers or protect them from those who were aware of their existence and considered them a danger. Ultimately, Mohinder knew, the abhorrent behaviour of a few individuals was no reason to give up on thousands of people and he could do much more good with the backing of the Company behind him than on his own-especially since Emile Danko had been exonerated and now had a handful of followers dedicated to subverting the Company’s work.
Peter, on the other hand, was disgusted enough to sever all ties with his mother and Noah and his whereabouts were currently unknown. Not even Mohinder had a means of contacting him.
Sylar had been equally invisible since his initial reappearance and no bodies had been found-that doesn’t mean that they don’t exist, Mohinder reminds himself-so Mohinder had decided to keep Molly with him for the time being.
A knock at the door interrupts their quiet breakfast. Three raps, in quick succession. Mohinder pushes his chair out and stands up. The knocking repeats itself.
He makes it to the door, looks out the peephole, and immediately pulls out his phone. He pushes speed dial number two.
“Go to your room, Molly,” Mohinder says.
“But Mohinder, you said - ” Molly begins, but her protests peter out when Mohinder turns to her with a desperate look that she hasn’t seen since that day he’d sent her away.
“Go to your room, Molly,” he says and she drops her spoon into her cereal, splashing milk all over the table, and dashes away.
“I’ll keep an eye on you," she says and she shuts her bedroom door.
The knocking continues to increase in frequency until it becomes a steady, uninterrupted stream.
Mohinder opens the door as much as the chain will allow him.
“Couldn’t you have just opened the door yourself?” he says to man standing in the hall with a fist poised half-an-inch from where the closed door would have been.
“That would have been impolite, Mohinder,” Sylar says and snaps the chain with his mind. He leans his shoulder against the door and tries to force it open, but Mohinder holds it in place with ease.
“Much like failing to greet an old friend whom you haven’t seen in a year.” Sylar puts pressure on the door one more time before giving up with an exasperated sigh and an over-dramatic roll of his eyes and using telekinesis to shove Mohinder out of the way.
“I saw you two weeks ago,” Mohinder says as Sylar crosses the threshold.
“You saw Nathan Petrelli,” Sylar says.
“What do you want?”
A scream sounds from the bedroom before Sylar can answer and the two men run towards it to see the room empty and the window open. They look out and see Molly being dragged down the fire escape by several people in black fatigues.
Sylar raises his hand to halt their escape, but when he twitches his fingers nothing happens. He furrows his brow at them and his body suddenly spasms and falls to the ground.
Mohinder looks to the bedroom door. Noah Bennet stands there with a taser pointed at Sylar, the Haitian at his side.
Mohinder gapes at them for half of a second before gathering his wits and running out the window as fast as he can. He hopes that the superhuman strength in his leg muscles will allow him enough speed to compensate for lost time.
It doesn’t.
Molly and her kidnappers have disappeared into the city.
Mohinder returns defeated to his apartment as Noah and his partner prepare to load Sylar into the van for transport back to the Company’s headquarters.
“She’s gone,” he says.
“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Noah says. “We have the resources to find her.”
He looks down at Sylar.
“At least the day wasn’t a total loss.”
***
“Why is that man still alive?” Mohinder slams the door of Angela Petrelli's office so hard as he opens it that the knob punches a hole in the wall.
“It’s customary to knock, Doctor Suresh,” Angela says evenly, her eyes not leaving her paperwork.
“Apparently it’s also customary to keep a murderer alive to kill again, since we’ve all been doing so much of it.”
“Doctor Suresh." Angela raises her eyes to Mohinder though her head remains tilted toward her desk. “Sylar has led us to believe that he possesses information and abilities that will give us an advantage over Danko’s followers. We would be remiss to dispose of such a potentially valuable resource.”
“We’ve both thought that before, and we both suffered for it. Other people have died for it."
Angela stands up, her back perfectly straight, and looks Mohinder in the eye.
“Doctor,” she says, “I have no interest in allowing our enemies to maintain possession of a resource that will allow them to locate any known person of ability or employee of this organization at any time, and if Sylar can help us regain that then I believe the benefits outweigh the liabilities.”
“Wait, he says he can help us find Molly?”
“Yes, he does,” she says. “However, he has one stipulation.”
“And that is?”
“He will only speak with you.”
“Of course,” Mohinder mutters under his breath. He looks down at the floor, runs his fingers through his hair, and paces the width of Angela’s office.
“Fine,” he says, stopping his movements, his eyes rising to meet Angela’s. “But I have a stipulation of my own.”
“And what might that be?”
“After we find Molly,” he says, “he dies.”
“Done,” she says, without hesitation.
***
Mohinder is led to a cell deep within the Company’s headquarters.
He flicks the light switch and turns on the intercom.
“Hello, Mohinder." Sylar is lying on a small padded bench in the middle of a grey cell, drugged to the gills but still coherent.
“I understand you wanted to speak with me,” Mohinder says.
“I’m not the only one." Sylar slurs the words with a slight sing-song inflection, drawing out the long vowels.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Let me out of here,” Sylar says. “And you’ll find out.”
“You know that’s not possible.”
“I’m not asking that you free me, Mohinder. You can have the Haitian just outside the door with a battalion of armed guards ready to blow my head off, just let me have some time alone with you and my abilities.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“They’ll thank you for this,” Sylar says.
Mohinder doesn’t bother to ask who. He knows Sylar will just answer with a smirk.
***
They’re in a different room this time: an interrogation room with a table in the middle, a chair on either side of it. Sylar sits across from Mohinder with his cuffed hands-a formality, of course-resting on its surface.
The Haitian stands outside, as Sylar suggested, just a step away from negating Sylar’s powers. Noah Bennet is there too, at his own insistence, along with a couple of guards whose names Mohinder has yet to learn - not quite a battalion, which Mohinder is sure will bruise Sylar’s ego, but the Haitian’s power obviates the need for one.
“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” Mohinder begins.
“Yes,” Sylar says, smiling like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Well? What do you know about Danko’s operation? Where can we find Molly?”
“Don’t you want to know about my new ability, Mohinder?”
Mohinder rubs his eyes. “Is it relevant to the topic at hand?”
“It’s relevant to what you want to know.”
“Fine." Mohinder folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Tell me all about your new ability.”
“I can speak with the dead."
Mohinder stands up and slaps his left hand down on the table, points at Sylar with his right. “If you don’t plan on taking this seriously,” he says, but he doesn’t finish. Sylar isn’t even looking at his face-he’s sliding his hands across the table and taking Mohinder’s left hand in his own.
“What are you doing?” Mohinder asks, his anger forgotten in the face of Sylar’s bizarre actions. He starts to yank his hand away but Sylar holds on. He gives up and sits back down, curious about where this is going.
Sylar slides his hands to Mohinder’s thumb and starts fingering the ring around it. He twists it back and forth.
“This is a family heirloom,” he says. “You’re father got it from your grandfather when he married your mother. He gave it to you when you got your PhD-thought that was a more important event in a man’s life.”
“My father could have easily told you that while he was alive.”
“Don’t worry,” Sylar says, suddenly squeezing Mohinder’s hand and looking up to catch his eyes. “I can’t talk to her yet. I know that’s what you’re thinking, that you’re afraid and trying to hide it behind a façade of scepticism and bravado. That’s very ‘you’. He agrees.”
“You’ve said nothing so far to support your claims,” Mohinder starts to say, but Sylar just looks back down at the ring and continues as if he can’t even hear him.
“The last time you saw your grandfather, he tried to take it back,” he says. “Didn’t remember who you were, thought you stole it from him. He threatened to call the police. Your father doesn’t know about that. You never told him, did you? Trying to protect him from his father’s weaknesses just like he wanted to protect you from his own.”
Sylar moves his fingertips from the ring, trying to twine the fingers of his left hand with Mohinder’s own. Mohinder jumps, startled, and pulls his hand away. He looks back up to Sylar’s smirking face.
“What does this have to do with Molly?” Mohinder's voice is shakier than he would like.
“I can’t talk to her. I can talk to people who have a very personal interest in her safety and ways of knowing things that I don’t. People who keep an eye on her and who used to hold her hand and read her The Little Prince when she was sick, until you took those duties over.”
“Well? What do these sources have to say, Sylar?”
“You’re planning on executing me after you get your information, are you not?”
“No.”
Sylar shudders. “Of course you are. I can tell when you lie Mohinder; did they not tell you that?”
“I assume you’re looking for some sort of deal, then?”
“They didn’t, did they?” Sylar says, ignoring his words again. “Maybe you should avoid mentioning to them what we talked about in here, then. I know you’re all about retaliation.”
Mohinder rolls his eyes and sighs in irritation. It makes him feels comfortable in front of Sylar-back on familiar ground.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, wearily, and stands to leave.
“You’re just doing it for Molly, right?” Mohinder can hear Sylar's smirk in his voice.
“Yes,” he says, walking out the door.
“That tingles, Mohinder,” he hears faintly from behind him.
He doesn’t know what the hell Sylar is talking about and he doesn’t care.
***
Mohinder enters Angela Petrelli’s office.
“How kind of you to knock, Doctor Suresh,” Angela says, smiling with her lips pressed tightly together.
Mohinder answers her with a smile that is less sardonic but just as forced and tentatively approaches the chair opposite her own.
“May I?” he asks.
“By all means,” she replies, gesturing toward the chair with her right hand before folding it with her left on top of her desk.
He sits down and explains the meeting with Sylar, the new power Sylar demonstrated to him, and the information he claims to possess.
“He’ll help us if we bargain with him,” he says. “He’s obviously angling for a delay or cancellation of his own execution. I know what I said earlier but I think we should give it to him.”
“Doctor Suresh,” Angela says. “Given how pointedly you avoided looking at the damage to my office wall, I doubt you've forgotten your earlier outburst. Quite the change of heart, wouldn’t you say?”
“I only want to help Molly.”
“I’m sure that’s one factor in this sudden about-face.”
Mohinder narrows his eyes. “What exactly are you suggesting, Mrs. Petrelli?”
“Doctor Suresh, I know what you’re thinking-Lord knows I’ve had the same thoughts. You think that you’re willing to pay any price to speak to your loved ones again, but when you hear their words coming out of that man's mouth you will want to be sick to your stomach.”
Her voice gets progressively louder and harsher as she speaks, before cutting off abruptly; then she is silent for a moment, apparently gathering her thoughts-it’s the first time that Mohinder has seen her look anything but completely collected. He waits for her to speak again.
“Tell me again, Doctor Suresh,” she finally says. “How is it that you are so convinced that this new power is genuine?”
“He told me things about my past-things that only my grandfather and I could have known. I was sceptical at first, but -”
“Did he touch you?” Angela asks, suddenly.
“What?”
“While he told you this,” she says, “did he touch you?”
“Yes.”
***
“You bastard!”
Mohinder bangs his open palms against the glass of Sylar’s cell. It starts to crack and splinter-they’re going to have to move him now.
“Hello Mohinder,” Sylar says from his bench. “Is there a problem?”
“Bridget Bailey.” Mohinder clenches his fists. “The ability to know the history of any object just by touching it.”
Sylar laughs.
“You’re going to die in here,” Mohinder says.
“I’ll forgive you,” Sylar says. “They all do. Tell Maya that Carmen forgives her. For what happened at the wedding. Not for picking the burgundy dress, though, not when she looked so much more beautiful in the green.”
“What are you talking about?” Mohinder says.
Sylar ignores him.
***
The Company had been keeping tabs on Maya ever since they had re-formed after Sylar’s ‘death’-ostensibly for her own welfare, but Mohinder suspected that they kept tabs on anyone with intimate knowledge of abilities out of fear that they would go blabbing to the general public about them. Mohinder had sent her an anonymous note when Sylar had resurfaced, believing that she had the right to know, and she had shown up on the Company’s doorstep the following day asking to be trained as an agent. Angela Petrelli had relented-perhaps, Mohinder suspected, because the senseless loss of her own loved one to Sylar stirred in her a sense of compassion that was strongly felt and acted upon, if not explicitly communicated.
A selfish part of Mohinder resented Angela’s choice-not out of any resentment for Maya herself, but rather for the potential awkwardness of working with someone toward whom he had behaved so shamefully. Mohinder had been deliberately avoiding her since they had begun sharing a workplace, and he suspected that she had been doing the same to him.
So it was that their meeting in the hall outside of Sylar’s cell was the first time they had seen each other in a year.
“Maya,” he says, and stares a little dumbly. He’s unsure if he’ll be able to look her in the eye long enough to make small talk, let alone broach the subject of Sylar and his cryptic statements.
She is, it seems, more prepared for this meeting than he is, and she cuts to the chase: “Is it true that Sylar has the ability to speak with the dead?”
“It’s true that he claims to,” Mohinder says.
“You believe he is lying?”
Mohinder shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “He says that Carmen forgives you. She still thinks you should have worn the green dress. Does that mean anything to you?”
Maya looks down and covers her face with her hands. Mohinder hears her breath catch. When she looks up he sees that tears are streaming down her cheeks-clear and innocuous and heartbreaking. “It means very much to me,” she says.
“Is there any way he could have known-”
“No,” Maya says. “This was not something that I ever discussed with Ga-with Sylar.”
“Would you like to-” Mohinder can’t believe he’s offering this. “Would you like me to arrange for you to speak with him about it?”
“No,” Maya says, quickly enough to indicate that there will be no further discussion on the matter.
The conversation dissolves into awkward silence.
“If you choose to see him again,” Maya finally says. “Please tell him to let them all know that I am sorry. Especially Alejandro.”
“Maya, I don’t really believe-”
“I know you don’t, Mohinder. Humour me.”
“Okay."
They exchange an awkward hug and continue on their respective ways.
***
Mohinder decides to set up one final meeting with Sylar before his execution. It will be worth it to make Maya happy.
In the meantime, he contacts Claire Bennet in hopes of getting in touch with Peter Petrelli. If anyone will know where to reach him, it’s her. If Peter can get there in time, if he can take Sylar’s abilities, then maybe Mohinder will be able to put to rest his recent suspicions that not every single thing that Sylar says is a lie. And if he does have some ability that can help them find Molly, well, then he’ll be able to take advantage of it without looking at that smug face for one more second.
Angela assures him that all those people with abilities that may aid them in their search are being used to their full potential. She’s sleeping as much as possible, just in case she sees something. She now seems determined to rescue Molly without any help at all from Sylar.
Mohinder realizes that she is looking forward to Sylar's death as much as he is.
***
“Did you get me a deal, Mohinder?” Sylar asks as Mohinder takes his seat. “You did, didn’t you? I knew I could count on you.”
“Actually,” Mohinder says. “I have a favour to ask of you first.”
“Anything for you.”
“It’s actually for Maya."
“Ha,” Sylar says-speaks the word, although he doesn’t actually laugh. “Well. What can I do for the lovely Miss Herrera?”
Mohinder swallows, lowers his eyes. “She just wants them to know that she’s sorry,” he says, quietly, embarrassed. His forehead rests on his fingers and his temple on his thumb.
“Who, exactly?”
“Everyone she’s hurt,” Mohinder says. “Alejandro.”
Sylar closes his eyes, breathes deeply. He is silent for several moments. “Done,” he says when he opens his eyes. “All is forgiven.”
"Is that it?" Mohinder snorts and shakes his head. “That was the most ridiculous display,” he says, “that I have ever,” his words trailing off into incredulous laughter.
“I think I know why you’re so reluctant to believe me, Mohinder,” Sylar says. “Because if I can speak to them, they’re not really gone. What I’ve done isn’t so bad.”
“You are a monster -”
“See? There’s so much I can give you, Mohinder, if you just let go. I can give you back everything I’ve taken away. Your father. Eden. You can speak to them through me.” The handcuffs fall off of Sylar’s wrists without being touched and Sylar’s face starts to pulsate, bones shifting and realigning themselves before Mohinder’s eyes until Eden is sitting across the table from him.
“I never even got to spend the night with you,” she says, taking his face in her hands and moving in to kiss him.
“Oh my God." Mohinder nearly trips over his chair running out of the room, trying to make it to the bathroom before he throws up all over the floor.
***
Mohinder is sleeping in his office, dreaming a dream in which everyone he loves turns into Sylar.
A voice in his dream commands him to wake up. He feels compelled to obey.
Someone is knocking on his door and he answers it.
“Sorry about that,” Matt says. “I know it’s uncool but I was knocking for like ten minutes. You need to get more sleep.”
“It’s okay,” Mohinder yawns. He’s too tired to remember that he and Matt haven’t spoken since Nathan’s secret came out. “What’s going on?”
“I found her,” Matt says. “I just - I just listened for her and she was calling me, calling out my name with her thoughts. She told me where she is.”
That wakes him up. “Matt!” he says. “You’re amazing!” And they embrace, laughing, all their differences forgotten.
***
Recovering Molly from Danko’s followers is relatively easy for the Company with Matt Parkman on their side. They practically deliver her to their front door and turn themselves in. Molly is unharmed: the organization was planning on using her as a tracker, just as Angela had suggested.
“Mohinder,” Molly says as he sits with her in the back of one of the Company’s vans, driving back to headquarters to check in before they can go back home. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” he says.
“Promise you won’t think I’m weird?” she says.
“Promise.”
“Sometimes, when I get scared or sad or just bored, I look for my parents. I know I won’t find them, I never find anything, I just like looking.”
“That’s not weird at all, Molly.”
“Um. I haven’t gotten to the weird part yet,” she says. “Okay. So I looked for them while I was - while those bad people had me, and sometimes I would see someone.”
“Who did you see, Molly?”
“The Boogeyman.”
***
Mohinder is greeted at the Company’s headquarters by Peter-Claire must have finally gotten his message to him. It’s too late, but he’s glad to see him anyway.
Mohinder reaches out to shake his hand, but Peter jumps back.
“Why don’t you take Molly inside,” Peter says to Matt. Matt nods and takes Molly’s hand, leading her into the building.
Peter turns to Mohinder. “He’s gone,” he says. “Nothing left but ashes. His last request was to see me.”
“Why you?”
“Because you wouldn’t see him,” Peter says. “And he wanted to say his last words to you in person.”
Mohinder grabs Peter’s hand, too quick for Peter to steel himself against the influx of power. Boundless strength flows into him, dislodging any other abilities that Peter may have acquired.
They leave his body and dissolve into nothingness, as dead and gone as the man from whom they were taken.
“Why?” Peter asks Mohinder, their hands gripping each other like two vices.
“I didn’t want to know,” Mohinder says.