Famous Last Words

[splice_of_life]

"And the way I can feel you...its...I never want to lose that."

Mohinder wakes with a start and stares up at the ceiling. Those weird dreams again. They need to stop. They're starting to affect his ability to do his job. Well, not that he'd slept much these five years since Sylar blew up. The alarm goes off a moment later and he pulls himself to his feet.

Another day in the lab. Another report due. A meeting with the president that afternoon? He'd have to check his schedule.

He's in the shower when he gets the call. That meeting with the president? Moved up to a breakfast briefing. Mohinder groans and slips on a silver and lapis lazuli ring before he heads down to the waiting limo.

Comments

[telecognition.livejournal.com]

"I can double check tomorrow," Matt said, turning back towards the console. "Mind putting the feed back together now? I still have a job to do. Sir."

[heroslayer]

He offers him a wan, almost sheepish smile, then his eyes grow distant, sharp, focused on something far away. He tilts his head to one side slowly and the monitor in front of them flickers momentarily before coming back to life in earnest. He glances over to it, wondering what Mohinder's up to, now that he's gone.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Matt leans back in his seat as he watches Mohinder wandering around the small cell they have him in. He keeps touching the walls, dark skin in contrast to the wall colour. Matt frowns slightly. "He did this last night too," he murmurs, flipping through the transcripts from the night before.

[heroslayer]

"Any idea what he's doing?" He'd think looking for a means to escape, but Mohinder promised him he'd be good, and he trusts him on that, oddly.

[telecognition.livejournal.com]

"He can't get out. We've had it tested." Matt thinks differently. He's not one to trust anyone. Not any more. He can't even trust himself. "I'll keep an eye on him tonight."

[heroslayer]

"You want me to keep you company?"

Half of him hopes Matt says yes, if only so he can try to distract him, to have a second round with him while under the influence of Mohinder's blood. He wants to taste him again and he wants it just as badly as he did the night before. Another part of him is hoping that he'll say no, however, if only so he can go out into the night and really, truly experience it. His lust for that is almost as great as his want for Matt.

[telecognition.livejournal.com]

Matt looks the President over for a moment and frowns. A little bit of telepathy would come in handy here. It really would.

"You don't have to. I mean, sure, if you want, but you look like hell. No offence." He's restless. Still slightly high. It's worrying.

[heroslayer]

"None taken," he answers. He watches him momentarily, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he considers his options, and then gets to his feet. He can almost feel Parkman's upset and he doesn't want to have to field any annoying questions about how he's more than just slightly high. "See you tomorrow, then?"

[telecognition.livejournal.com]

"You know where I'll be if you need me," Matt says, not watching him go. The moment that the door is shut, though, Mohinder seems to pause and lift his head. A few minutes later, he just sits down on his bunk. Oddest thing ever. Matt shakes his head and settles in for a very, very boring night.

[heroslayer]

Sylar, on the other hand, has a night just as amazing as the one he spent with Matt less than a day ago, albeit for different reasons. Everything is bright and new, every scent potent and wonderful, even the breeze, faint as it is, feels fantastic. Like he told Mohinder, he hasn't felt this good in five years, and he revels in it, rapt, drowns in it, even though he does nothing more than idle around the city wearing someone else's face so no one thinks the President has gone mad.

He returns sometime after dawn, the brightness of the rising sun hurting his eyes and leaving him feeling passingly uncomfortable, Nathan's face back super-imposed over his. He brings coffee with him for the both of them, even if he doesn't feel he needs it in spite of the fact that he hasn't slept, and slides back into the chair he'd occupied earlier. He passes one of the coffees to his chief of security and takes a moment to savor the taste of his own, fighting a noise of pleasure.

When he's satisfied, he forces his eyes open and nods to the monitor. "How's he doing?"

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," Matt says, lifting his cup with a tired yawn. He drinks it black, finishes half of it, and then sucks on his lower lip as he readjusts his weight. "Well. He's same as always. After you left, he sat down. I think he cried a little and now he's sleeping."

[heroslayer]

Something in Sylar's stomach twists at the idea that Mohinder was -- is that upset. Upset enough to cry. He doesn't like it, the very thought painful, and he reaches out mentally as he imagines Matt might when he utilizes his telepathy, trying desperately and likely futilely to reach him, to soothe the Indian in his sleep. It never even occurs to him that he has no right or reason to be so attached to Mohinder, and if it did, he'd likely dismiss it for how right it feels. He doesn't realize what a powerful link sharing blood is.

"Let him have the day off. I'll bring him another small animal tonight and see if he won't be more cooperative when we didn't spend a day torturing him."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"He didn't eat that cat," Matt points out, tapping the screen over the fuzzy black thing curled up on Mohinder's chest. "Maybe he can't go Interview With A Vampire on it."

[heroslayer]

Well, at least Matt didn't call him on lying about Mohinder eating it -- he'd more or less told him he had, after all. "Or maybe people just taste better. Who knows? Maybe I'll ask him if his cat isn't cooked to his liking when I go see him tonight."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Okay. Matt's not thrilled about that and it shows. "Let one of the other guys do it."

He does have a job to do and Sylar is not making it easy for him.

"I'll cook something tonight for us. Come over to my place."

[heroslayer]

"I'm not as breakable as I used to be, Parkman," he mumbles, making a face at him. He glances at the monitor and then back at Matt, torn, wanting more of Mohinder's blood and his chief of security both. "But yeah, okay. I'm sure Suresh can survive a night or two without me."

Not that he actually plans on leaving Mohinder alone. He'll go home with Matt and have dinner with dessert in the bedroom, then once he's asleep, he'll sneak off to the Indian for another taste of his power.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

It's nice. Matt thinks its nice at least. Chopping cilantro is about as normal as you can get. He's got the wine chilling and cooking broiling in the oven. Mozzarella cheese is waiting to be chopped up with tomato and tossed in Italian dressing by the time Sylar gets there, wearing the face of Matt's supposed girlfriend.

He's a romantic. Matt can't help it. They rarely do this but with Sylar out of sorts and having nearly died -- okay. He did die -- all that he wants to do is cement whatever part of this was 'them.'

[heroslayer]

"It smells great," she (he) tells him once she's inside and stretched on Matt's couch. The statement is something of a lie, though, not that there's anything wrong with Matt's cooking. It's more she can feel the high fading, the individual scents of cilantro and cheese and cooking meat not as sharp, not as distinctive as they should be. She'll need more blood and soon, she tells herself, then dismisses it, wanting to enjoy the last of what power she's pulled from Mohinder.

She doesn't get to. Over the course of dinner, her thoughts become more and more disjointed, focus hard to come by, and when she does manage to piece her thoughts together for a few seconds, they dance around Mohinder like a fairy ring. She wants to go to him, right now and without regard for Matt, to consume his power quite literally, and that want burns in her chest, making it hard to breathe. By the time dinner is over, she's trembling faintly, and it's all only getting worse with every passing moment. It may not be what's become her feeding time just yet, but with as little as Mohinder gave her the other night, her body has burned through it and desperately needs more.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Matt frowns the first time blue eyes turn brown and by the time he brings out dessert -- Sylar's favourite -- and it doesn't even get sniffed at he knows something it wrong. Matt takes her hand and drags her into the bathroom.

"Cut the illusion bullshit out." Matt knows he's under survallience too. But he also knows he's destroyed the camera in here because seriously? He shuts the door for emphasis though as sets Sylar on the sink.

Shit.

"What did you take? How long have you been taking it?!"

He's kicking himself for not realizing his lover has become an addict.

[heroslayer]

It hurts to shift back. It shouldn't, not when as far as he remembers, it's just an illusion cloaks himself in rather than a physical change, but it does. It's agony and he groans lowly as his own face snaps back into place, practically squirming on the counter and definitely gasping for air, unable to catch his breath. It hurts still. Everything hurts and it's getting progressively worse.

"Suresh's blood," he chokes out. "It's -- he -- I need to get to him. I need more."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

His BLOOD.  Standing, Matt runs a hand down his face and turns towards Sylar again before he turns on the taps and runs a washcloth under cold water. "I don't think you're going any where, buddy. Stay still."

He's never done this before. Not once, not since Sylsr revealed himself to Matt all those years ago. 

Sylar is strong. Matt is stronger. His ability has grown so immensely that he's never actually questioned the reason that he's been partnered with the Haitian. He knows why. 

Tilting his head, he wills Sylar to sleep. They have something good here. He's not letting Suresh fuck it up. Leaving Sylar in the bathtub, Matt checks the time and his gun. Ten hours until sunrise. 

Mohinder won't live to see another night. 

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Back at the office, Matt flicks off the security monitors and sends out an overwhelming mass command to ignore this blatant breech of security. He watches the guard in charge of keeping an eye on such things closely for a moment, checking and double checking that it worked and the Haitian didn't happen to be in the building, as would have been his luck, and then lets himself into Mohinder's cell.

He doesn't bother with the gun just yet, figuring he'll be able to influence Mohinder without it. He must be weak from not eating and even if he's not, Matt has the strength of his conviction to fuel him and his ability. Mohinder will do what he tells him, when he tells him this time. His life and his lover depend on it.

"Get up," he orders, forcing himself into Mohinder's thoughts. "We're gonna go for a walk."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's not asleep. His hand stills on the back of the cat's neck as he hears the door to his cell open. He sits up when he realizes who's there. The time is just after two if the watch on Matt's wrist is to be believed. 

The Indian settles his eyes on the other man and then looks away. "I use to have the biggest crush on you," he says softly, setting the cat aside so that he could get up. "You reminded me of Paul, a man I had dated while I was in University.  But you never looked at me. Not once. It's fine, no need to look surprised."

He's been waiting for this. Mohinder's posture is relatively straight. 

"You're not under orders. Why do you want me dead?"

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

He's beyond angry that his powers don't work, even with all his righteous fury, and if his jaw was steel before, it's dimamond now, his face and posture so tense it's terrifying. He reaches for his gun. Telepathy may not be all that effective here, but bullets sure as hell are. He's seen that one first hand.

"Because I can't stand the thought of seeing him become an addict. I mean, you have any idea what you were doing to him? How strung out he was? How much pain you put him through when it started wearing off?" He shakes his head. "He's better off without you, but I know him. I know what he's like and I know that if he's going to get over you, he's gonna need help. Which, unfortunately, means putting you out of the picture."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder doesn't even flinch. He just stares Matt down with a set jaw. "I didn't turn him into an addict. He's always been one. He wants to devour everything. Every power. Every person. It will never get easy. When the rest of you lot are dead, you'll be all that's left. And he'll take your power too."

He moves towards the door and looks back at Matt. As soon as they're in the hall, he's going to make a run for it. He doesn't want to kill Matt but he might have to.

"I never asked for this."