seekevolution | Quarantine

Quarantine

News had a way of spreading a little too quickly. The moment Nathan had fallen at the press conference, media began having it's field day. Mohinder paid little attention.

He arrived at Odessa fourteen hours after the incident, severely jet-lagged and with a computer pre-loaded with all of the information that the Company thought he'd need. Mohinder had been down this road before, though never with such dire circumstances. The Shanti Virus was a subject near and dear to his heart, though it was far less stressful when all he needed to cure it was a bit of blood. Even though it was his own blood, at least he felt as if he was doing something.

Knowing from experience that not everything was black and white anymore, Mohinder kept his laptop and medical kit close at hand and made his way to the quarantine line with a grim look in his redrimmed black eyes. "Mohinder Suresh," he said, forgetting his title again for just a moment. "Doctor. You need to let me through."

The National Guard service man looked wary before radioing it in through the barricade. It was tense. Mohinder's shoulder bag slipped twice and he nearly dropped his sample kit. "All right, cleared to go in. Good luck, doctor."

Mohinder nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. He'd gone from New York to India and back again in two days, bringing Molly to stay with his mother. After what Sylar did to her, again, he could not risk leaving her in anyone else's care. Not with Matt gone.

Seeing the man, however, after he'd just gone off on this quest to find his father at the expense of helping him with a child they both sort of promised to look out for, did not make Mohinder smile. If anything, it only made the lines on his face etch in more deeply. He stood in front of him, looking as tired as Mohinder felt, ill fitting clothing a bit more rumpled than usual. Never mind, of course, that Mohinder had done his fair share of leaving too on his attempts to bait the Company through lectures across the globe. "Do I have a lab yet?" Mohinder asked. No greetings. No necessities. That's what happens when you abandon people, Matt.

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Matt shook his head in silent agreement with Mohinder's words. They'd only make Molly switch schools if they absolutely had to - all either of them wanted for the poor girl was some stability. And now it looked like they actually had another shot at that, both stability and normalcy. Matt had no illusions about the fact that they'd likely get roped into something sooner or later but for now he couldn't think of anything worse than what they'd already managed to handle the past week or so.

He grimaced at Mohinder mostly for the sake of it but got used to the sting soon enough and remained in the chair beneath his fingers as he worked him over, noting that Mohinder seemed not at all that distracted from the task other than the one or two times he couldn't seem to help but gesture with the cotton as he spoke.

Matt just listened to the language, leaning back. He halfway expected Mohinder to pet his hair again when he ended the call. The thoughts hit him with warmth and he couldn't help but smile.

"I can't wait to bring her back", he said, inclining his head slightly. "You know ... you and her feel a lot more like my family than Janice did. So, you know. Thanks for not kicking me out."

Back then or since.

If Matt wanted him to stroke his hair, he really only had to say so. Mohinder would have complied. Though he couldn't read Matt's mind, as he prepared a new, fresh bandage for his head, he did lightly trace the older man's hairline to be sure he didn't bandage up his hair in the process.

He washed his hands quickly before returning to pack away their supplies for the move and was in the process of setting his laptop (thankfully unscathed) to search for apartments in their price range. They would likely have to settle. They were asking for a ready to move in flat in Brooklyn with a month to month lease. So long as there was a place for his cab and access to the subway nearby, the neighborhood itself shouldn't matter so much.

Matt wasn't just a cop, after all. He was a cop capable of telling people to back down if they got too close to their girl and have them listen without any fuss.

It didn't exactly occur to Mohinder that Matt's powers could also be used to get them a very nice apartment at a very affordable rate-- It wasn't in his thought processes at all. Matt was a protector. He wasn't a cash cow. Besides, the money Molly received from her parents was enough to put her through college and grad school and Mohinder had a bit of personal wealth as well.

He'd just sat down again when Matt threw that heartwarming sucker punch in his direction. Mohinder actually froze for a moment, eyes wide. Matt already knew that he'd had anxiety about losing Molly and Matt, but it was worth actually saying. "I can't imagine being without you," he said, and while he meant 'you' in the plural... Let's face it. Matt's not blind and not stupid. And Mohinder is... Mohinder's little crush might well be blatantly obvious by now.

Funny how that took on a slightly different meaning, in a way, than he'd been thinking when he said it. It had been an observation more than anything else. He was content in the moment and didn't think to question that. But the way Mohinder returned it held more weight to Matt who had really been drawing up a comparison. Mohinder offered something more personal.

Matt looked back, a little stricken. Then he cleared his throat and looked away with a smile that'd mostly read as kind of embarrassed. "Yeah", he started to say, but then he looked up at the door and shortly after that the bell rang.

Pizza time, then. He rose before Mohinder could and gestured to him that no, it was no big deal, and although he felt a bit dizzy still he didn't mind doing that much, at least. Besides, it saved him from having to actually answer.

You're a coward, Parkman.

The pizza guy looked at the bandage with unabashed curiosity but Matt didn't acknowledge it at all, just handed the kid some bills and change and then re-entered the kitchen with the pizza boxes stacked on top of each other.

"Dinner", he announced, putting them down on the table before he went for the cupboards, pausing for a moment before he pulled out a pair of glasses. "Or breakfast. I don't know."

The look, the avoidance, the silence.

Shit, shit, shit, oh God āpa aba kyā kiyā hai para dēkhanē kē li'ē,* he panicked, Hindi immediately taking the place of any and all thought that so happened to come out of his head from that point on. Dinner (or breakfast) wasn't suppose to be as awkward as it was becoming but there was nothing now to stop it from being so. Mohinder set the table and sat in front of laptop for the most part on Craigslist of all places, setting aside flats to look at (or at least call to see) at a more decent time of day.

He showed Matt a few, nothing spectacular, and sent some emails. "We can always look for something more permanent when we're back from collecting Molly," Mohinder said, eyes on his pizza, pulling off the cheese.

It wasn't that he didn't like cheese, he just needed something to fiddle with. He nibbled on the fries just as awkwardly.

((*look at what you did!))

Well ... shit. That wasn't - god damn it.

The awkward silence game wasn't exactly new to Matt but he didn't like playing it with Mohinder. The thing was that he wasn't sure at all how to fix it since he wasn't sure what to say or even think about that little revelation. He leaned his head in his (left) hand, rubbed at his neck and tapped at the table at various intervals before he seemed to altogether give up with the prospect of repairing whatever damage had just spring up. At least for the moment.

So he gave his opinions, agreed and disagreed, and tried to make small talk of the topic handed to him. It was ... the situation seemed delicate. A whole lot so.

"What did you and your mom agree on?" he asked almost carefully. "You, uh, were talking for a while."

Not the end of the world. Hindi followed that, meaning somewhat useless even to Mohinder as he worried and wiped his hands on a napkin at the edge of the table. "She wants me to stay on a bit. A few days. I have some affairs to wrap up as well, formally resign from the university... Hope to God they might recommend me to another school. I can't imagine driving a taxi like some sort of statistic for the rest of my life."

Doctor comes to America from India, gives up career, drives cab or works in a convenience store? Not for him. Or rather, he hopes not.

"I'm sure you can't take more time off. You can bring Molly home and I'll do my duties to my mother. She'll likely want me to go to the temple. It's all very boring," Mohinder mentions, grateful for something real to talk about. The relief in his voice is obvious.

He'd been so afraid he'd just run Matt off. What's with him, crushing on a man recently divorced from his long term wife? Matt's straight. Just because Mohinder jumps around the Kinsey Scale hardly means the American does!

Matt nodded, mentally agreeing. A taxi job would drive Mohinder up a wall, not to mention be a waste of a brilliant 200-miles-per-hour mind.

"The temple, like - for your father?"

He asked because he was genuinely curious. He didn't know a lot about Mohinder's culture or where he came from. He liked to think he wasn't a Dumb American but he hadn't exactly travelled or read that much and was kind of confined to his home turf for the most part. ... oh, wait a second. They were going to travel to India to fetch their daughter.

... cool.

"I gotta get down and talk to them tomorrow", he said, thinking about it. "If I'm fired, I could make them ... unfire me." He shrugged and glanced up. "Probably should get Molly back in school as soon as possible too, but uh, I don't know, I think we can stick around a bit if you want." Rather suddenly, he cracked a small grin and took a bite out of his pizza. "We earned a vacation."

"An actual vacation," Mohinder agreed before he tried to explain that the temple, for his mother, had always been a religious experience but for his father, it was simply a way to appease his mum. "I never saw much merit in it either, repeating sutras and rocking, leaving offerings, trying to commune with a higher power--"

He shrugs.

"Hinduism is rather different from Christianity though. It doesn't negate the need for science, it tries to explain why we might use science in fact. But..." He cradles his own cheek in his hand, watching Matt's face as he speaks. He's already determined that he rather likes the shape of Matt's mouth...and the hue of his eyes, especially while he's smiling like that.

His poor heart.

"I'll drive you to the precinct then. Your head-- I know you think you can manage it but I'd rather have you home in one piece." Mohinder, my God, stop! "As opposed to getting into an accident." So much better... Damn it.

He was looking at Mohinder as he listened and then seemed amused when he agreed, "Nah, it doesn't suit you." He'd always picture Mohinder with some kind of calculation, map, microscope or a laptop around. Or something of the sort. And there was something odd about the image of Mohinder as one in the crowd, too. He was too headstrong for that one.

A note - Matt hadn't been trying to read his thoughts. He'd consciously made the effort to back off after it had been pointed out to him once again, but he caught parts of it inbetween the spoken words.

He raised his eyebrows. He couldn't help himself with that one. It looked more like surprise than a question though and he was fairly quick to drop his eyes with a small shake of his head.

"Take it easy, Mohinder. Look, I'm eating." He held up the half eaten slice of pizza before he took another bite, speaking around it after a few chews. "I can handle a bit of blood loss."

It was probably a bad joke, and it registered. He shook it off with a slight frown.

"What're you gonna tell the landlord person?"

Taking it easy was fine advice and Mohinder forced himself to relax. He wasn't the sort of person to meditate but a few mantras never hurt anyway. He just stared at the computer screen for a little while before he glanced back at Matt. And then back to the computer screen. And then back to Matt--

How long was too long to look? Probably any look right now. It seemed unfair that he couldn't scan Matt's thoughts too, just so he knew if he was currently playing the right cards now or not.

God, he just wanted it to go back to an hour ago, when nothing was awkward and their banter was decidedly less of a struggle for Mohinder to maintain at friend level.

At least he knew he could get over crushes. He got them all the time. There was no need to act on them, but he did wish he could get away with a little more internalizing... Matt would know right away, however.

And leave.

It was Mohinder's greatest fear and current aggitation.

"I wasn't planning on telling him anything. We're week to week. He'll just have to clean up on his own I suppose when he realises the checks stop coming... Oh, how's this one? It's two bedrooms but there's a den with a closet. It could work for Molly.

That actually troubled Matt a lot more than he'd expected it to as he ran through the police procedure in his head. There was blood and definite signs of a struggle. Depending on the landlord, that'd get called in or ignored, but if it was called in there'd be an investigation. Probably abandoned fairly quickly, in all honesty, since there was no body and the cops in this city were overworked to begin with. But people might be on the look out.

... unless Matt told them not to be. He mulled this over - his boss had influence. He could basically give him the suggestion to not look into it if anything came up. Let him know that it wasn't important.

That'd work out. He'd never expected his power to be such an asset, but now he was happy for it. It'd help him protect them so much easier.

So he was a little distracted before he leaned forward so he could see the screen, but when he actually looked at it he nodded.

"Yeah, looks good. That neighborhood's not too bad, either." Sort of shady, but not paranoia-inducing. He glanced at the clock - just past three. "Few more hours till we start getting some answers, I think."

He finished some more of his pizza, leant a hand into his face and thought out loud, "Did you pack the card deck?"

Cards were fun even if Matt could read his mind. Actually, they were quite a lot of fun for that very reason. Mohinder started to laugh again on the second hand, holding different numbers and suits in his head. Or at least trying to. Without much thought to the trouble that leaving the flat like this could be for anyone, an email sent to the cozy little space they could stay in for a awhile and Matt pretty sure he could get his job back, Mohinder could loosen up.

He needed to so badly, to be honest. The early morning soon after he had woken nearly put them in a bad place. Nearly ruined a friendship and camaraderie hard fought for over the last week.

No one wanted that. Mohinder would have hated himself to chase Matt off over his own feeble libido.

By seven, they were in the car to Matt's precinct. By eleven they were having expensive coffee at Starbucks. By noon, they were unintentionally giving a new landlord the impression they they were a couple. Mohinder didn't really help matters at all by saying they'd been together for four months.

Things had gone well with Fuller. He was a man of little patience and no bullshit, but by a mix of truth, avoidance and suggestion Matt had made sure he still had his position. He wouldn't use his powers for personal gain, Matt decided, not after this mess was cleared up. But right then he couldn't feel bad for something so fundamental as keeping his job after having nearly died two times.

Mohinder was less ... what, nervous? It made things a lot easier and Matt more happy, and he made sure not to read Mohinder's mind since that seemed to have had a part in the slight mess to begin with. Their new landlord, though - he had no issues reading his mind to see how that discussion was going.

So she too thought they were a couple. A quick look at her thoughts told Matt that while she was telling herself that she didn't have a problem, she felt mildly uncomfortable. Matt retaliated by gently bumping shoulders with Mohinder and quite pointedly asking, "think Molly would like the playground?" just to get the woman to pick a side. He felt irritated by her thinking for quite a few reasons. When she tried to recover from a second of surprised silence by gently asking that oh, you have ...?, Matt shot her a challenging look with the confirming smile.

They signed some papers. Matt had nothing to do with that, although he had in a way enjoyed the bit of social experimentation.

He didn't mention that though. Seemed like fragile ground. Instead he announced, on the way out, "We're gonna need to get new furniture."

Had Mohinder realised what had happened, he might have laughed or he might have taken things wrong. It was better, therefore, that after his name was put to paper and the lease was signed, furniture really was all he had to worry about.

The costs were growing but the thought of lugging anything from the apartment wasn't entirely sitting well with him. He frowned a very small bit at Matt as they stood in their new place, walls white and rugs shampooed. It was clean and it had potential at least for now.

"Molly is most important. She'll need a bed, dresser, and if we can fit it, a chair. I can make due with a mattress. Kitchen table and some chairs, sofa. Television. The rest we can pick up cheaply and put it together as we go." Mohinder's smile was once again off the charts. Sure. The neighborhood was a little rough but there was parking and a fenced in playground within view of the kitchen windows. Molly couldn't exactly walk to school but she wasn't in a phase where being dropped off by her wards was an issue.

It would do for now. Perhaps even a little longer until Molly was in high school--

His thoughts of the future were loud. He was planning for the long haul here.

Matt would have been able to tell even without the capacity to hear people's thoughts just from the way Mohinder was speaking. It made sense, though. Molly didn't have anyone else and they had to take that into account for the future. That and the fact that they would likely be sticking together for it. It was a strange notion but not a bad one. At all, really.

"Alright. So let's take care of that and then get going. Should be thrift stores just about anywhere, right?"

It didn't matter too much what they did or didn't get so long as they could live with it. Besides - it'd be fun to include Molly in it. Let her pick things out and shape her new home.

Now that was a fuzzy feeling and Matt voiced it with a smile of his own, starting with a happy "Hey, did you think about ...?" It'd be all of them. Who would have thought.

"That we'd be in it for the long haul?" Mohinder and Matt both were still young enough to find other people, to want to start other families, but it didn't occur to him, not now at least. He was happy with the little family they had. Adding to it? Why would he want to change it at all when they had finally seemed to want to do this? Mohinder might not be able to do without romance for forever, but he was content in what they had.

Content and maybe a bit nervous at the way he currently viewed (and was trying not to view) Matt.

Hair actually looking less like a nest and more like soft curls for the first time in a week gets touseled by caramel coloured fingers as Mohinder grins stupidly at the blank walls and the thought of thrift stores and bookshelves and all of the objects that would eventually fill the bookshelves.

Making a life for themselves had become a two person process. Mohinder had never expected that for himself.

"No. I've never been happier in my life to bludgeon someone."

Matt huffed, but wasn't actually affronted. "That hurt, you know." It hadn't been a great first impression for either of them, but it might make for a good if completely bizarre story at some point. You know, disregarding the fact that it was a secret.

That's the reason he felt good with the two of them. No sneaking or pretend. "Did you just read my mind?" and "What were you guys doing all the way over there ?" was normal conversation.

Tapping his knuckles against the wall for no particular reason other than to maybe draw attention to the room as a whole, Matt stepped away from it towards the door, lightly tapping Mohinder's shoulder as he went.

"Come on. We gotta team up for this one. I'm a lot better at carrying things than picking them out."

"We can blame that on the head injury," Mohinder said, spring in his step that hadn't been there much of the morning. Calling for red-eye plane tickets to India awhile stuck in horrendous afternoon New York traffic, Mohinder kept glancing at Matt. His hand. His knee. The side of his face. Trying to ignore his urges just made him want to do them all the more and masking his thoughts likely weren't helping. He read off his credit card number, made some polite discussion in Tamil with the flight booking agent (who seemed as if any Indian language was one she'd just started to study), and scooted up to slip his phone away in his back pocket of too tight jeans just as Matt found a place to park in the dilapidated lot all thrift stores in Brooklyn seemed to possess.

He'd been to this particular store many times over, Molly at his side, for clothing that she kept outgrowing, and had to put off looks of why a man of his skin colour was with a little white girl. It was difficult being in New York sometimes, post-911.

There was a lot of interesting furniture to choose from, but getting it back to their new flat was going to be tedious. Even so, many trips later, they'd managed to find a bed, a couple of mattresses, a sofa, kitchen wares, and a dining set.

It would do for now with nothing too spectacular. Other than a strained shoulder on Mohinder's part. He'd live. Besides, they were starting over.

It's liberating. No more glass in the walls. Blood on the ceiling-- No more dented doorknobs.

Matt wasn't reading his thoughts. It was easy to want to block a lot of thoughts out with the city noise, anyway. That said - he felt at home with the din. It was comforting particularly after the silence of Odessa. He'd always been a city person.

But tuning thoughts out didn't mean that he missed the glances, and that had the utterly predictable effect of making him glance back. It was ... well. He quickly averted his eyes whenever he caught Mohinder or Mohinder caught him. It was only now in the relative ease that he was actually thinking about it. Whatever this "it" was. Itwas, in all honesty, really surreal to think that Mohinder might like him. Matt was just a cop - not really anyone, other than his mind thing. Mohinder was a professor who looked like he could have anyone he smiled at. Something about it didn't quite add up.

... oh yeah, and the sexuality thing. Matt wasn't sure where to begin with that one. So he didn't. But he did listen to the lilting Tamil and snuck glances at Mohinder's profile when he did.

And after a rudimentary setup of the furniture some time later and some cold water drunk directly from the tap (at least in Matt's case) there was a pause to just take all that in. And feel steadier. His head hurt again along with the bit of strain in his muscles but honestly, it was all fine.

He stretched and shot Mohinder a look. For a moment, anyway. The watch on his wwrist got the remainde of that gaze.

"When's the flight?"

The truth was that Mohinder gravitated towards attention. He wanted people that wanted him, or protected him, or looked out for him or smiled a little too much his way. He wasn't picky, as was obvious by the way he sling shotted from Mira to Eden to Zane...to Matt. It'd all been within a matter of months too, though Matt had been through quite a few ordeals with him now. Of course Mohinder felt close to Matt.

Of course, he wanted to feel even closer too. He was doing his best to keep that to himself.

Rubbing the sore spot on the back of his neck by his shoulder, Mohinder arched an eyebrow and glanced at his own watch. "Three hours. I suppose we'd better get our things together. You can watch the hoops I'll have to jump through to get past airline screening," he said with a grin. "Let me have one more good look at those stitches. I hope the cabin pressure won't be too terrible on your head."

Mohinder fully intended to sleep on the plane. He did hope Matt would too. They both would need their sleep before being attacked by their girl at the airport.

Matt felt a little bit like insisting that it was fine, really, but the cut did throb and after he tested just how badly by lightly pressing his fingertips to it he relented. So he turned a chair around and sat down, one arm resting against the table. New items, all of them.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked, again feeling curious, looking up at Mohinder and only sort of tensing up beneath his touch now. The cut felt better unless the stitches or irritated skin was nudged. Not to mention the cut itself ... More future battle scars. He knew Peter must have disposed of Sylar in the most permanent way possible but he still sent a small thought to the Big Guy Upstairs despite not feeling the least bit religious right then that asked for Sylar to never show up again.

Back to the matter at hand, though: "You don't look much like a terrorist." It was deadpan in the way that was supposed to be teasing. Mohinder really didn't, though. He was way too pretty for wanted posters.

"Your head was nearly sliced open by a sociopath that liked to hear people in pain," Mohinder replied softly with the corners of his lips lifting up. He guided Matt's head gently back so he could take a better look at the cut. No puss yet, thankfully. "I think you're going to live." A little alcohol. A little dabbing. A little blowing. A few light puffs of air-- Mohinder would have made a good medical doctor or a nurse like Peter.

He took his time fixing the bandage again, perhaps with a touch charged just a little on the side of less than platonic. Mohinder kept his eyes on Matt's hairline, purposefully missing his gaze.

Just in case.

"What ought a terrorist look like? More shifty eyed? Less well dressed?" He was teasing now too. "At least if I'm with you, I ought to be all right on the way back. Thankfully, I don't tend to carry much in my luggage. It's always bothered me...the idea of someone going through my underwear. All right, I think you'll live. We should just take a cab. Did you want a shower first?"

Matt kept his eyes down as well, although he did 'hm' slightly in either agreement or thought. Yeah, he'd live. He was quite happy about that. And if he was in any way uncomfortable from the way Mohinder touched him he didn't say anything about it.

"That too", he shot back, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "It's usually the beard, though. Go a few days without shaving and I might have to bring you in."

Leaning back after Mohinder's approval, he stood and scratched at the back of his neck, considering it. Then he shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." Probably wasn't really - they were both decidedly unfresh what with the last shower that was had had been back in Odessa before they'd temporarily adopted Peter. Matt would feel good enough if he just splashed some water in his face and switched shirts, though, so he didn't feel the need. "You?"

Mohinder had showered enough to wash his hair and tame the curls a bit but a real shower? The thought of one actually made his bones ache for it. They could take their turns in India. His mother's home was beautiful and the bathrooms exquisite. "I'd just want another one once we stepped off the plane any way," he reasoned and shook his head. For now, at least, he'd do a spot washing to be sure he didn't smell too badly.

He really should shave though. He was a hairy man, thanks to his own culture and genetics. The stubble on his cheek, however? Quite fetching. If you liked that sort of thing.

"I'll be sure to read up on Islam extremism as well. I'd like to be able to act the part as you haul me in." Haul... Probably not in the context but sue him. A man going on several years dry could have some naughty thoughts here and there.

...even about a telepath. In the room. With him. Whoops.

He excused himself to the bathroom to do some washing up and returned less than ten minutes later, feeling a little fresher and ready to get going. They had a little girl with long blonde hair to fuss over.

"You'd walk just fine", Matt said, raising an eyebrow. "We don't cuff people's feet."

... well. He sort of cringed at himself for that one when Mohinder left the room but proceeded to block his thoughts out - Mohinder's and his own - and put on a different shirt, splashed that water in his face and then double checked that he had everything on him. Keys, wallet, passport. It had probably taken Mohinder a while to find that particular item, likely still left at the bottom of the box of assorted paperwork he'd gotten from Janice a month or so into his stay.

Yep, they were more ro less ready to go, and when Mohinder stepped out into the kitchen again Matt was throwing some clothes and other necessities into a backpack, tossing another at the other man. They wouldn't need all that much since in the end, it wasn't likely to be a long stay.

"Do we need to get cash?" Matt asked, meaning what ... ever money they used in India, he honestly didn't know. "Um, whatever it's called?"

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