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

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

The room seems to shiver, then settles, and when it does, John's standing there, propped against the far wall casually, his hands jammed in his pockets. He considers Mohinder wordlessly for a long while before he finally decides to speak.

"I'd be more interested in what's causing it all. From what I know of the lot of you, the whys seem … at least a touch more clear. Every decision we make creates alternative realties, do they not? So each of the jumps you've experienced thus far are likely one of those. A different choice, yours or someone else's, and everything changes." A beat. "For all we know, this entire reality is my fault. I'm different than you remember, after all. Younger."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's heart rate slows the moment he smells John. The voice doesn't soothe him as it once did because the voice his sire has now is much higher than what he's use to. He turns, though, setting his eyes on the John-that's-not-John.

"But what caused the worlds to change in the first place?" he asks, so very softly. "If we can figure out how to stop it...or go back-- I...miss you."

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

"I've no idea. But as I said, that's what I'd be trying to find out." He pauses, sighing, and looks away. "And I'm ... sorry. That I'm not him while still being so obviously, tauntingly close. It must be terrible."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder snorts and shakes his head. "It's fine," he promises without really believing it himself. "I've other people that I need to care for, but I'm not sure if I'm doing it correctly. I'm much too young to have a child myself," he says, as if trying to get some advice on the matter. He dashes any answer away. "The ring-- Is it possible to help with that? We can offer a lot of things in exchange." Sylar was the President after all.

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

"If this older me is anything like I am now, you're likely the first and only I've ever made." He, himself, has no children. His life, however different, is still marred with tragedy and fear of loss, so he's never bothered. "I may not be a child, but I imagine it to be a learning experience, regardless of how old one is."

He pauses, making a face at him. "And if I wanted payment, we would have discussed it when I said I could get it done for you. My man is almost done with it and you can consider it a gift if you like."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"A gift? For someone you don't know?"

Mohinder's not trying to 'push it' but he is curious as to John's motivations. Mohinder's memories of the kind old man that took him in, mentored him, obviously loved him, are not the same as the young man here. Even if their eyes match. So filled with hurt.

He wants to get to know him again, but how practical is that?

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

"He is my grandson. If you realized you somehow had a family you were unaware of until now, wouldn't you do the same?" John shrugs and offers him a wan, wry smile. "Besides, I remember what it was like after Richard changed me, before he got me my ring. It was almost torture. Anything longer must be truly hellish."

Richard, the man who had been Mohinder's John's best friend before turning on him and murdering his granddaughter had been John's sire here? Now, that's odd.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder had heard the stories. More than that, he remembers the man for bursting in with werewolves and kidnapping him. For nearly killing John. He sucks in a breath, unsteady for a moment.

"Impossible." Mohinder is absolutely sure of is it. "That-- No. Not even slightly humorous."

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

Different Richard; same blood line, however. The Richard Mohinder knew, the one that had attacked the both of them, is the descendant of the one that betrayed John and his granddaughter.

Regardless, though, John arches his eyebrows. "I wasn't making an attempt at a joke, boy. Richard Wright was my sire."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder is trying, very, very hard actually, not to judge. Different life. In this place, Sylar's killed Nathan and became President. So, it can happen. Obviously, it's happening right now. "We didn't get along, he and I, when we'd met previously is all."

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

John takes a peek into Mohinder's thoughts; he can't help it. He frowns deeply at the Indian when he sees what happened, what the older him had told him, obviously disturbed.

"The one you knew -- that's not my Richard. One of his descendants, I'd imagine, if he was mortal. If he was ... " A vampire killer. He's not sure he wants to voice that, though. He can't imagine Richard as an enemy.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Hands up, Mohinder shook his head. Honestly. Never a moment to himself, not even in his mind. Well, his own fault for loving a telepath...and sharing another with him. "I don't doubt it. I'm sorry, my experience obviously doesn't make much difference here."

There had to be a better topic of conversation.

"Would you like to meet him? Sylar? He'll never believe it's you. But you're welcome to come back with me."

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

John offers a soft but genuine apology. Another thing he has in common with the version of him Mohinder knew? It's still something of a force of habit to poke around in others' thoughts to better understand where they're coming from.

"I think I'd like that," he says as he looks back up.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Sneaking into the Presidential hotel room was something that Mohinder had perfected. A bit of persuasion was all it took to allow him and his crow into the building and up the lift. Hopefully John wouldn't mind the feather stroking. Mohinder was quite fond of it.

He found Matt passed out, poor man, on the shortest portion of the sectional and he covered him lightly before slipping into the main part of the suite to find Sylar.

Find. As if he had to. He could smell him anywhere.

[of-highdegree.livejournal.com]

John didn't seem to mind at all, and he alternated between nuzzling at Mohinder's fingers as best he could as a crow and fidgeting because it was harder than it looked to express approval like that. He stilled briefly when they passed Matt, studying him, his little birdy head tilted to one side curiously, then hopped down out of Mohinder's arms entirely when they found the other vampire looking over a stack of papers in the other room. He didn't turn back to human right away, however; he just sat there, perched on the edge of the lamp he'd settled himself on, looking between the two of the expectantly.

Sylar, meanwhile, did the same, his eyebrows raised. He knew what was going on with the bird, of course -- he could smell John in the room -- but he wasn't sure what was going on, exactly.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder moved carefully around stacks of books and three large metal cases that had been brought in from AirForce One in case the President needed them. It was lucky that Sylar was a very quick study and that he retained his memories of what this world was like otherwise he'd find it impossible playing President now. Mohinder pressed down on one arm of the chair and leaned in, kissing Sylar's temple at his hairline.

"He's got a family he never knew about," Mohinder explained softly. "So-- He wanted to meet his grandson. If the President isn't too busy."

[heroslayer]

Sylar let his eyes fall half-mast, dropped the papers he'd been thumbing through into his lap, and leaned into Mohinder's mouth. When he pulled away, he sighed almost longingly and looked up at him, a small, crooked smile touching his lips. "He's not. He's actually bored out of his Goddamn mind, so ... "

He shrugged, glancing past Mohinder to John. He could almost feel the elder vampire's amusement as he hopped down off of his perch. A sense of power followed, the room seeming to shudder, to sigh, and John was standing before them properly. Sylar couldn't help the surprised that crossed his face when he saw how young he was. Mohinder had told him, of course, but seeing it with his own eyes was different somehow.

"Yes, I'm aware," John started dryly, though there was still vague amusement in his eyes. "I'm much younger than you remember. I'm getting that a lot lately, as it turns out."

"Something like that," Sylar agreed, mirroring his expression.