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Word count : 2809
Genre : Angst with a bit of fluff. I call it 'flangst' XD
Spoilers: Up to Season 3
Disclaimer : These characters are not mine.
Rating : PG
Summary so far : Mohinder discovers that Sylar was tortured horribly whilst he was in the company cells and tries to help him to overcome what is essentially Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He finds out that Sylar fantasised about him coming to rescue him, in a technique designed to withstand torture, although he had only seen Mohinder in a photograph at that point in time. Now they are trying to expose Sylar to the what he fears the most, the cell; he was tortured in, to see if it helps him to face up to his worries.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Their movement through the halls was so resolute that it drew glances from almost everyone they passed. Striding purposefully, eyes dead ahead, one dressed in black, one in grey. Swiping pass keys, punching codes, but never speaking, never hesitating.
Sylar stopped dead as the last door swung shut behind them. Mohinder made it another few steps before he looked around at his companion and waited. The night before they had kissed, and Mohinder was ashamed to admit that it had been Sylar’s neediness, his hopelessness and dependency that had made him do it. He had wanted him so much, wanted to protect him and keep him locked in that uncertainty and pain. He had broken their kiss and hugged Sylar to him as he panted through the last of his tears. He had stroked his hair, let him sleep the night through in his arms. The killer. The enemy. It had been his best night’s sleep in a long time.
The corridor was just a few meters long, with a solitary door on the left hand side. This was the door to the cell where Sylar had been tortured. It was yards from his cell on level five and was sealed, soundproof and free of natural light. The perfect place to do things which even murderers didn’t want to hear.
“What if it doesn’t work?” Sylar asked, looking at him. “What if I don’t get over it?”
Mohinder stepped back towards him, taking his hand and squeezing when Sylar’s breath hitched. “We try something else.”
Sylar looked back at the door, keeping a firm grip on Mohinder’s hand. He looked at the floor, it would take three steps to get there. He could do that.
Mohinder allowed himself to be pulled towards the door and waited as Sylar looked through the observation panel, which was only the size of a postcard. He was apprehensive about how Sylar would react to being back in the room, and had his fears confirmed as the other man exploded the lock on the door with a burst of telekinetic energy.
“Sorry. I lost a little control.” Sylar growled in that voice that seemed to take over when his more devastating abilities took hold. Mohinder clasped his other hand around Sylar’s and squeezed again as he let go. He looked at the liquid metal, splinters and wires which had previously been the secure door lock, and his heart raced. He hated to admit it, but there was something very exciting about Sylar’s destructive power. Even when he had been ‘Zane’ Mohinder had watched him and wondered what it would look like if he obliterated an oil tanker, or a tower block.
The door swung gently on its hinges, inviting them inside. Sylar nudged it with his finger and it fell open. He watched his shadow fall against the stone floor and followed it inside. He kept his eyes on the floor, taking it in inch by inch.
Mohinder stood framed by the doorway, watching Sylar’s progress. His eyes were still on the floor and his shoulders had begun to rise and fall more rapidly. Mohinder was on the look out for a panic attack and was not surprised when Sylar’s head rose to look at the bed on the far side of the room and he snapped, darting back into his arms.
“Shh. Shh. You’re safe. It’s okay.” Mohinder held him as tight as he could, stroking a hand up and down his back and burying his face in Sylar’s hair. Don’t try he thought. Don’t try to get better, stay like this. Stay with me.
Sylar immediately backed up and looked at Mohinder, and the doctor wondered if somehow he had heard that thought. Mohinder watched astounded as Sylar threw off his black suit jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, barely caring whether buttons were flying off in his haste to remove it. He turned and marched to the solid concrete block which had been used as a bed, halting in front of it and breathing so deeply that Mohinder thought he might pass out.
Sylar looked at the grey concrete, running his hands over the surface. There were chips and rough edges announcing themselves under his fingertips as he stroked. He watched his pale fingers dragging on the bed, and a brown hand cover them. He felt the warmth from Mohinder’s body heat spread across his back, and another hand rest on his left hip. He felt soft lips pressing on his shoulder, and curls tickling him as they fell against his neck.
He turned around, holding Mohinder to him momentarily before heaving himself up onto the bed and laying flat, eyes closed. His hands were trembling so Mohinder held them still, gently squeezing them to the rhythm of Sylar’s deep breaths.
Sylar looked up and saw the light, the light with the silhouetted bird, black on white, a seagull. ‘Broxa’ was written in plain black type underneath it. He had screamed that word but now, when he saw it, nothing triggered a memory. The bird did, the bird he could remember, wheeling through the white plastic on the strip light, looking so free and wild while he was strapped, held, imprisoned. His vision started to blur and he gripped the stone bed, feeling for the edges to establish where he was. The silence started to swirl around his head and he blinked at Mohinder. The doctor’s lips were moving but Sylar heard nothing. He let his eyes close and felt a white blanket of silence and light and cold fluttered over him.
“Sylar? Sylar are you alright? Please answer me Sylar, please. What’s wrong? Sylar! Sylar!”
Black. Shining like obsidian in the light and there’s something that happens in my stomach. It’s like pain but not, it’s like an absence of pain where you know you should feel it, and I want you. I’m talking and I know the script but for a moment, I don’t care about the plan. I decide that the new plan is to get you to like me. Your black curls are like obsidian in the light.
Yellow. Like your jacket. That looks like a nice jacket, I said. I was being playful. This man Taylor, he’s playful. Shy. Submissive. When I see your reaction to what I can do I have a new plan. The plan is to get you to love me. A sense of purpose I can only describe as destiny.
White. Snow. Sunlight reflecting off it and hurting my eyes, like you do. I look at you when you sleep in the car. So beautiful I can’t keep my eyes on the road, so I pull over, and I sit watching you. When you wake up I call you sleepy head and you smile. You ask why we’ve stopped and I say I was just having a break. We keep going and I trade the watching for listening. Your voice sounds like safety.
Pink. Blushing when you brush my hand. Your apartment is warm and we’re here together. We’ve comforted each other and now the plan is hazy. Now I think you want me, I’m sure of it. My fantasy starts with a kiss, and I skip the middle, the sex I’m afraid of. I jump to the end, the embrace and the satiety. The caresses and the whispers. They’re coming, I’m going to get it all, everything I want. The new plan is to give myself to you completely.
Red. Anger. I hate you, what you’ve done to me, what you’ve turned me into. You think you’re smarter than me. You’re nothing but a whore, making me think with my baser instincts while you trick me. I’m going to make you suffer.
Red. Exhilaration. It’s so hard to act on your stage. I wish she was dead. Soon she will be. I want you, the burning is back but I have to focus, have to get my powers back because God knows without them I can’t have you.
And then there’s nothing. I was…where is he? Is he coming? He’ll be here soon. His name’s….Mohinder? He has black curly hair. He’ll be here soon. He’ll help me. He has to help me.
Mohinder was starting to panic. He contemplated running to the lab to get something to help him, but what? Doping him might not be the answer, maybe he needed this release.
Sylar started to get agitated, jerking on the bed, his lips moving and his breaths heaving. Mohinder held his shoulders and waited for him to calm but he continued to fit. This was all his fault, he had tried to be clever, trying pop psychology and kisses for God’s sake to make him better when he knew all along what he needed. Sylar was strong, he had fought his own trauma but had imagined a rescue that never came. If only…
Mohinder jogged to the door of the cell, stepping out into the corridor and taking a deep breath. He had to try and remember what Sylar had said, the details of his rescue fantasy which was the only thing that had kept him from breaking during the torture. He breathed deep one last time and entered the cell, making sure to announce his arrival by slamming the door behind him. He strode over to the bed and saw that Sylar’s eyes were open, flickering desperately.
“Mr Gray?” Mohinder gripped Sylar’s hand. “Mr Gray, my name is Mohinder, you knew my father.”
“Mohinder?” Sylar looked confused and Mohinder wondered if he had gotten this all wrong. “Thank God you came.”
Mohinder smiled and ran his fingers gently over Sylar’s forehead. “Are you ready to go? I have a car outside, I can take you to my apartment.”
Sylar tried for a smile but suddenly fat tears were rolling down his face. “I….” He looked at Mohinder’s face, the doctor’s concern and curiosity his final undoing. He cried openly, his chest jolting and his face contorting as the pain of two years making crashed through him. Mohinder embraced him in an iron grip, fluttering his fingertips down his back and shushing him gently. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here now, we’re going home..” On impulse he pressed his lips to Sylar’s but felt the man gasp and freeze.
“Mohinder…I….I hardly know you.”
Mohinder laughed in surprise. “Oh I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I….you’re right, it was inappropriate.” Now his eyes were wet too.
Sylar hugged him. “It’s fine, really, I…guess I do owe you a lot.” Sylar’s stilted memories battled against each other. He had felt something when Mohinder had kissed him. It felt…right, in some way. Expected.
“No, please, I’m sorry.” Mohinder wanted to comfort him like a lover would but it was selfish when Sylar’s mental state was so fractured. He just hoped that this was temporary, that Sylar wouldn’t have to remember Chandra’s death, the curare drip,
Sylar nodded, drying his tears with the back of his hands and shivering as he realised he was half naked. Mohinder handed him his shirt, hardly any buttons remaining on it, and his jacket, which Sylar seemed surprised to own. When he was as dressed as he could be they walked slowly towards the door, Mohinder supporting Sylar as his knees fought against the synaptic messages telling him he was weak.
They attracted more curious glances as they wandered down the hallways, some sights making Sylar flinch, though Mohinder couldn’t see what they were. He surmised they were things that had tapped at his subconscious, marking out danger like reds and yellows in nature. Once in the car Sylar drifted back to sleep, and Mohinder took the time to wonder what the hell he was going to do with him.
…
Sylar’s eyes blinked open, the room pulling into focus slowly. He didn’t know where he was but he felt safe. His eyes rested on an Indian wall hanging and he suddenly recognised he was at Mohinder’s place, for the second time in as many days. As if on cue the door opened and the doctor entered with a wonderful looking glass of water. He walked over and set it on the nightstand, kneeling next to the bed and putting a soft hand to Sylar’s brow.
“How are you feeling?”
Sylar smiled and went to say “I’m fine” but his throat was dry and all he could do was cough. Mohinder brought him the glass of water while he sat up in the bed, trying to pull the red comforter over him a little as he realised he was in his underwear. Mohinder looked embarrassed but didn’t think handing him his buttonless shirt would do any good.
“I undressed you, you were out for the count. I know we’ve only just met but, I am a Doctor and…”
Sylar looked confused. “Only just met? What are talking about Mohinder?”
The doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “You seemed to have regressed when we were back at the cell, you said you didn’t know me.”
“We were at the cell.” Sylar tried to call up the memory but couldn’t. He only knew that he felt no pain when he thought about the cell, and the torture. It appeared like a 2d image, something on a screen which couldn’t hurt him, that he could turn off whenever he wanted. “It’s gone, the worry, the pain, it’s not there anymore.”
“I’m glad. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Mohinder was stroking Sylar’s arm without realising it, brushing his fingertips from the soft dark hair to the skin on his underarm and back.
“You really came to my rescue…” Sylar stopped and smiled shyly at his own cliché. “I mean…I appreciate so much what you’ve done for me. I don’t know….” He swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling as if gravity could keep the tears from coming. “I don’t know what I’m going to be like, if I’ve …If I’ve changed.”
Mohinder nodded, not needing him to say anymore. He couldn’t begin to imagine what demons still lay in Sylar’s past. He could forgive him for the things he’d done, after he’d seen the penance and the duty paid, though it was forced on him by others. There was a time, Mohinder knew, when he would have enjoyed seeing Sylar tortured. But he wasn’t that man now, and if he could change, focus on the beautiful possibilities of the future, then maybe Sylar could too.
Sylar watched as Mohinder stood and started to undress. His stomach fluttered as he wondered what the intention was, whether he had said something in his trance. He wanted Mohinder, but right now he felt…vulnerable. It was a sensation so strange to him that he didn’t know whether he could deal with being seduced. “Mohinder I…I’m so exhausted and I…”
Mohinder put a finger to his lips and wandered around to the other side of the bed in just his underwear, sliding in beside him and patting the pillow to get him to lay down. “On your stomach.”
Sylar did so, raising his arms above his head and turning to look at Mohinder. The doctor pushed up the comforter, straddling Sylar and stroking his flattened palms down his back, waiting for the tiny puff of air which would tell him where Sylar was hurting the most. As his fingers hit the muscles just at the base of Sylar’s spine he winced and Mohinder started to form gentle circles on the knots. He felt the muscles tense and relax as he pressed more firmly, paying rapt attention to the clues that Sylar’s body was giving him. His hand span covered Sylar’s lower back as he let every fingertip press into pliant skin. Beneath his touch Sylar moaned and whimpered, his breaths becoming shallow as he drifted in an out of sleep.
Mohinder took his hands higher, nudging under Sylar’s shoulder blades and then placing his thumbs on the back of his neck, stroking the lengthening hair there gently. Sylar snored quietly and Mohinder smiled trying to move off his body without waking him. He lay beside him watching him sleep, wondering absently what would happen next. There were so many reasons why they shouldn’t be together, but Mohinder had to think about the world they lived in. When men could fly, or turn invisible, or shoot flames from their fingers, then surely there was a chance for two people who shouldn’t care for each other to do just that?
Mohinder brushed his fingers into Sylar’s hair one more time and placed a kiss on his warm cheek. “We’ll see.” He said without wanting to be heard. “We’ll see.”
- angst,
- fic,
- fluff,
- mohinder,
- mylar,
- now say ah,
- rating: pg,
- sylar
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From:
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“……And then, he’s going to rescue me.”
for pure 'Making Doc's heart just crack in her chest,' but:
When I see your reaction to what I can do I have a new plan. The plan is to get you to love me. A sense of purpose I can only describe as destiny.
and
Don’t try he thought. Don’t try to get better, stay like this. Stay with me.
either matched it or topped it.
From:
no subject
Over 12,000 words in the end. It started out as one shot crack! lol
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great job, again
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Re: great job, again
Thanks for reading x
From:
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One small thing: "because God know without"; shouldn't it be "knows" ?
<3
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Thanks for reading, sorry for the tear, yay for the cheer! XD That's flangst for you! x
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Glad you like x
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Brilliant.
This made me absolutely bawl...
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Actually I like making people cry so YAY!
Thanks for reading x
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Mohinder put a finger to his lips and wandered around to the other side of the bed in just his underwear, sliding in beside him and patting the pillow to get him to lay down. “On your stomach.”
Mohinder...sexy sexy Mohinder...
From:
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Mohinder you tart...
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Glad you liked, this one is my baby x
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i really love how you brought all of this together, and how you slowly worked through their relationship till they got to this point with each other.
loved this so much!! <3
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<3
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soooo freaking cute!! thank you so much! <333
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I actually ended up posting something from the Christmas wishlist before you got the card - ironic lol
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and wooo! i was so lucky to get two things from you! ;) i have to gift you with something awesome soon <3