Don't Be Bashful, I Don't Bite

[splice_of_life]

"Don't Be Bashful, I Don't Bite"
Who: Mohinder, Sylar, etc


He's nervous, sitting in the car for almost half an hour..  The man on the phone had been the only one, so far, that would talk to him.  Well, besides Nathan Petrelli's brother, of course.  Not that the boy had anything to really go on.  Zane Taylor might very well be the key that he needs to find so that his research makes sense again.  So that he can carry on with his father's work.

Pulling up his jacket, though it's not really that cold at all in Virginia, Mohinder raps lightly on the door and waits.  He can hear movement in there and it causes him to rock forward on his toes, teeth indenting the inside of his lower lip.

Comments

[heroslayer]

"I figured," he says, gesturing to the meat Mohinder pulled off his salad, neatly sitting folded into a napkin and off to one side. "I tried that once, but I couldn't really get into it. I missed hot dogs too much."

Among other things, though he didn't have much of a choice, what with the whole world ending. The first thing he'd done after leaving the Indian's loft after jumping back in time was to get a hotdog off of one of the carts that line the streets near Central Park. Mohinder's a good cook, but nothing he made with the plants he grew could ever compare to a New York footlong with everything on it.

"Which, speaking of, this doesn't bother you, does it?" He gestures to his own burger. He already knows what Mohinder's answer will be, but he wants to seem polite enough.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"Oh, no, certainly not. It does smell delicious. Please, don't worry about me. My dietary choices are more tradition and religion than actual ethics." He does into telling Zane about his first rebellious act at the age of fifteen, getting a hamburger for the first time. Oh, he'd loved it! The first bite at least. "I'm afraid to report that I spent the next week in tears. Never underestimate culture and upbringing."

The latter of which is something Sylar can certainly relate to. Life with Virginia had been a culture in and of it's own.

[heroslayer]

"Trust me, I don't," he answers, offering Mohinder a half-smile. He can't remember if he and Mohinder discussed this, the last time they were together, but the Zane persona was as much truth as it was fiction, so he figures he can continue on that trend. That in mind, he continues, "My mother was really religious -- Catholic school and paint-by-numbers of the Virgin Mary and all -- so I get it."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

'Was' sends up red flags. Mohinder's face softens and he seems to enjoy the ability to connect with Zane. Not over his powers, but their own backgrounds. "I lost my father very recently. He was not entirely religious, a normal amount I'd say. When did your mother pass?"

Perhaps he just needs to formally grieve. He's still running from it himself.

[heroslayer]

He looks away, his mother's death still painful after all this time. She is, technically still alive here -- and he considers going to see her, sans showing off his powers this time -- but still. His mother is gone, just as his Mohinder is gone.

"It's been a little more than two years, now."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

With that knowledge and some more pleasantries, they split the bill and it's back on the road for them again until Mohinder nearly nods off behind the wheel. That certainly hadn't happened the first time, but they stayed in the diner so much longer as well.

The promise of a hotel half a mile ahead, one of the chains that appear every few miles along the highway looms in the distance with bright lights guiding weary travelers to it, was taken up immediately.

They got separate rooms and Mohinder bids Zane a good night.

He does notice those lingering looks and in his own room, he's really rather pleased by them. Everyone likes being checked out!

[heroslayer]

He's not surprised by having separate rooms -- it's how they did things the last time he went through this -- and he retreats to his without complaint. He is, however, tempted to go to him, but he thinks better of it. Mohinder needs his sleep and he'd probably think it odd if a man he supposedly just met that day were to show up at his door in the middle of the night. Maybe he'll go after they've gotten to Montana and seen Dale, on the night he went and killed her last time, but not now. Now he just stretches out on the bed and listens to Mohinder's breathing through the wall, skimming the surface of his dreams, until he fall asleep.

It's well before dawn when he wakes, and he goes back to it, half-tempted to check in on the Indian's dreams out of force of habit or to try and change them, to feed him little bits of their time together in hopes that it'll bring them closer together somehow here. He decides on the former, just watching, not actually inserting himself into Mohinder's dreamscape for fear of ruining something or giving himself away.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder still dreams of India. He dreams of the beach beside the river. But he's not the Mohinder that Sylar's known. He's young, so much younger. Ten? Eleven? He's with other boys his age, brown skin tanning in the sun as they kick around a football by the lapping waves.

He wakes with his alarm, not all that longer after Sylar, and meets the man for breakfast. Waffles. It will eventually be a little ritual that they'll have over, as Sylar remembers it at least, the four days that this little road trip occurs.

Mohinder lets Zane take over the course by lunch, though he doesn't really nap. The conversation is good and Mohinder rather enjoys the company. They get on well. Despite the band t-shirts, they're actually intellectual equals. It's refreshing.

"Let me drive for a bit. You must be exhausted. We can stop for the night soon. We're nearly there."

[heroslayer]

"I'm okay," he says honestly. He's never needed much in the way of sleep, not that this Mohinder knows that. "Besides, you drove all day yesterday. I guess it's only fair if I drive all day today."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder touches his forearm gently. "All right. But the moment you get tired, please let me know. We only ought to be an hour or two out from the city. We can find a motel there." Hopefully. They seemed to be less plentiful this far to the north in the centre of the country!

[heroslayer]

He shifts into Mohinder touch without even realizing he's doing it and offers him a vaguely sheepish smile when it does come to his attention. Not that he makes any motion to back off. "I'll let you know."

There may not be a lot of motels around Bozeman when they finally reach it, but he finds one easily enough. Mostly because he's been here before -- it's the same one they stayed at last time they came to see Dale. He pulls into a parking space, kills the engine and turns to look at him for lack of anything better to do. He supposes he should be getting out of the car and collecting their things so they can head inside and see about a room for the night, but well. He'll get there in a minute.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Sylar can take as long as he needs. Mohinder's fallen asleep, head turned towards the driver of the car, long neck exposed. He has no reason to be worried about Sylar, no need to fear him at all. It's so very unlike the first time Mohinder fell asleep on his couch, struggling with himself to relax.

He's not yet gone deep enough into sleep to dream, but his thoughts are all over the place, jumping around between Zane and Dale and his father and adventure.

[heroslayer]

And Mohinder wanted to take a turn at the wheel. Amused, he shifts in his seat to face him more fully, his fingers brushing over his hair lightly, tentatively. "Mohinder ... we're here."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's forehead wrinkles before he flails upwards for a moment and sits up just a bit too quickly. He's disoriented until he sees Zane and grins like an idiot. "Sorry. So very sorry. I had the oddest thought!" He turns to look out the window and up at the motel. "Oh. Miserable company, me."

[heroslayer]

He pulls his hand back to avoid Mohinder battering his head against it. "It's fine, Mohinder. You were tired." He pauses, glancing over at the motel before returning his attentions to him, curious. "What thought?"

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder slips a hand through his hair and leans his head back on the cushion. "There's this man. He caused my father's death. Sometimes he haunts my dreams."

[heroslayer]

"And you thought I was him when I touched you."

He sinks back into his seat, looking like a kicked puppy. Even if he manages to win Mohinder over here, he'll never really be able to know him, not like his version of the Indian did. Even if he lies and lets him 'figure out' that he's an empath so that he can use all of his abilities, even if he keeps slipping in little pieces of the truth as he did before, the first time they did this, he'll still have to pretend to be Zane forever. It's not fair and it's all Nathan's fault.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

He's not sure what happened there, but something's wrong and Zane looks-- "Well I've no idea why you'd think you'd have anything to do with that." He gently sets his hand on Zane's arm again, ducking down his head to smile up at the other man. "He's... I don't know. Evil, certainly, but I don't think he always was that way. I saw his place, his flat, where he lived. He feels guilt over what he's done. Perhaps all isn't lost with him. I just have no idea where to find him."

[heroslayer]

"What would you do, if you did? I mean ... "

Last time, Mohinder went to the trouble of drugging and torturing him, hellbent on revenge. Then again, though, last time he also made the Indian an unwitting accomplice in the murder of Dale and killed Zane to do it. This time, he doesn't plan on killing anyone. That might count for something, if Mohinder figures him out or when he tells him.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder lightly rubs his eyes. "I've no idea. Find out who he is. Talk to him if I can. And safely. See if he's sorry, if he's mentally ill, what caused him to snap, if there's help for him." Mohinder had talked to Sylar first, before he pulled the gun. Sylar really-- He really hadn't endeared himself to a man that lost his father by his hand. Mohinder shrugs a little.

[heroslayer]

Sylar hums, willing to let the subject drop for now. He obviously can't tell Mohinder who he is right this second, but maybe eventually and this time without drugged tea.

He shifts to get out of the car and nods towards the office across the parking lot. "Just stay here for a couple of minutes. I'll be back with our room keys."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Zane, Mohinder thinks, is impossibly kind and really very shy. It's beautiful, in it's own way, how uncertain he seems sometimes. And then there are these moments of clarity-- It's almost like Zane's two different people!

He waits in the warm car, trying to shake the unease from his not quite dreams until Zane returns. A nice hot bath and a bed will be nice.

[heroslayer]

It only takes a minute or two, and then he's back, knocking lightly on Mohinder's window. He takes a step away, just enough so that he can open the door to the car, and passes him the key to his room. He'd thought briefly about getting them one room and making up some kind of excuse as to why he could only get one, but he'd dismissed it just as quickly. It's not like there are a whole lot of cars in the parking lot; the lie wouldn't hold any weight.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"Ah, yes, thank you," Mohinder says with a smile, getting out of the car to stretch long legs. He says his good nights to Zane and sleeps right until morning. His dreams are pleasant for the most part and he wakes refreshed.

There's another message on Dale's machine at his auto shop and then Mohinder climbs behind the wheel, smiling at Zane. "Breakfast first then? He ought to be at work by eleven or so. We can catch him there."

[heroslayer]

"Sounds good," he agrees, climbing into the passenger seat after making sure their bags are secured in the trunk. He offers Mohinder a smile as they head off to the nearest diner -- the same one they stopped at last time -- and gets them a table easily. This place, like the motel, isn't entirely crowded.