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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He's dead. He's dead didn't mean a damn thing to him. Sylar had been dead before, dead and gone from their lives after Kirby Plaza and yet, he'd crawled back out of the sewer again. Good as new. Extra powers under his belt. Sylar was dead but he could come back if he was ever found out. If anyone removed the knife--

Mohinder's greatest fear, perhaps even more than losing Molly (and Matt), was for Sylar to return yet again, to demand these things of him. Sweating through his t-shirt, Mohinder moaned fitfully, fearfully, into his pillow.

Matt wasn't in his dreams, but his voice still carried and was a comfort of sorts, something protective. Sylar's weight fell into him before sliding to the ground, kitchen knife once more lodged into his skull. Matt was standing behind him and a touch of his hand healed his fingers, one after the other. Lips on the back of his neck whispered those last last five words.

It's not real, he's dead.

Fingers so much thicker than his own reached around and undid each button of his shirt, from his collar to his navel. Thoughts of terror transformed into decidedly appeased murmurs of encouragement.

Dream-Matt was just as good as real Matt.

Matt listened for the changes in the dream and it didn't take long for the scenery to shift. He felt good about that. All he wanted on a good day was for people to be happy and not kill each other, and with just the suggestion, the projection and the push that things were okay, he could make someone else feel a bit better. That was a good thing.

He closed his eyes, had been looking at the wall in concentration before that, breathed out and relaxed into the bed but kept listening. Something caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered open when he understood how, exactly, the dream had turned around.

There was his name, again, so differently voiced from the time it had been because of his imagined death, now just a small little thing, something wanted. Was that how it'd sound in real life, if they ever -? Was that how Mohinder thought about him even now?

Dream didn't have to mean anything, Matt reminded himself, looking past the wall. That's why they were dreams and not fact. That's why they were dreams. Dreams were harmless, or they should be anyway, but his dad was out of the picture and this was a normal dream, so it was harmless.

He rolled over onto his back with his hands over his eyes and then tentatively thought, it's okay, relax, just to ... to see.

It didn't have to mean anything. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay before he went back to sleep.

Matt--

The dream might not be real and certainly, people could dream about all sorts of sexual encounters they don't want, but that didn't stop this particular turn of a dream to be that particular way. Against the bonds Sylar had put him in, the dream version of the Indian struggled so to get more sensation of fingers imagined against his skin. He could almost feel each breath cause him to press against fingers that knew, in this space at least, how to touch him...and touch him perfectly.

A rumbling, purring moan joined the name as the dream version of his roommate undid his belt and carefully released the button on his jeans. The zipper was almost audible.

Mohinder's breath quickened. Whatever else this place had become washed away, the empty lab there Sylar had killed Isaac and Maya was now his red washed bedroom in India. His bonds had somehow been released, allowing his clever fingers to move up into the hair he'd admired in the Moore's kitchen back in Odessa.

Freely, he could arch up against Matt's hands, could enjoy what this dream version of his friend was giving him--

Perhaps those encouraging thoughts ought to have been left out of it, Matt.

Perhaps. Probably, actually. But it was too late for that now and Matt's own breathing was getting increasingly shallow as he heard the sounds of pleasure in Mohinder's sleeping imagination. His name again made the entire room feel way too warm. The sound of touches, moans, eventually the kisses ... he wanted to squirm but remained still, just breathed increasingly shaky breaths and listened.

Oh god.

He should - back away, disconnect, cut it off. He didn't want to. Or no, he did, he reeaally did, but at the same time ... It wasn't the right thing to do, to listen. But it was so revealing, a free pass to see what Mohinder wanted, what could maybe be, what that would be like. How Matt might feel about it.

He didn't watch. He'd have to enter the dream for that and he didn't want to even begin to explain his presence in it and if he saw anything he didn't think he'd be able to look Mohinder in the eyes for years, anyway. No, but he listened, and he probably listened for entirely too long and thought about it all for entirely too long too once he did slip away from it all, forcing himself not to touch himself to get rid of a problem that eavesdropping session had left him with.

Sleep took ages to settle after that and he felt unrested and shaky and embarrassed and like he'd done something wrong when he woke up.

Mohinder was clueless in the morning. He didn't seem to realise his dreams had turned for the strange the night before. He'd woken up with a morning erection, however, but that was easily taken care of in the shower. He sat down for breakfast with his contacts back in and a yawn, wanting only toast for the morning.

Tickets were purchased and Molly's last day in India was actually to be spent with her grandmother at Zahra's request. Mohinder didn't mind at all and it would give him a little time to himself.

Well, with Matt.

Who wasn't looking at him again. Great.

You know, I will be back. "I'm not abandoning you."

Oh, the moment Mohinder thought at him, Matt all too eagerly closed off that channel for communication. He was embarrassed, felt guilty, couldn't shake the lingering sense of arousal either, and he was pretty sure he'd be driven up a wall just by the fact that Mohinder was talking to him.

With his voice.

He'd heard that voice do things he probably shouldn't have heard and he considered himself very lucky that he was the only mind reader in the room.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes in part because he was tired but mostly because it was a good excuse to not look at the other man, he nodded distantly.

"I know, I know." The way he picked up a piece of toast himself was almost reluctant. "Come on, like I'd really think you'd run off now? After all that? Don't worry about it."

"Plus, you know where I live now, on two continents," Mohinder chirped, dimples popping up in one cheek as he watched Matt with the toast. His smile, however, faded almost a moment later. Matt wasn't smiling. He wasn't looking at him again.

Had something happened? Had he done something wrong? Thinking loudly did not prompt Matt to answer those questions verbally...which meant that Matt wasn't listening in at all. And that, more than anything else, was horribly disturbing to him.

Mohinder slid a hand across the table to lightly touch Matt's arm. They were alone. They could talk, right?

"What is it?"

Matt did not drop the toast because Matt was a grown man who did not freak out about being touched. That said, he did seem a little startled, and glanced up at Mohinder before he looked away and broke off a piece of the bread rather than actually biting it off.

"It's fine, it's- it's nothing."

Matt was not a particularly good liar. The way he caught on words at times had an especially annoying habit of betraying him. He put the piece of bread in his mouth and chewed it despite that, hoping the topic would drop, but when he dared look at Mohinder again and could tell that it wouldn't, he swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

He had to give him something, because he knew Mohinder well enough that he'd think it was his fault. ... which it was. But ... still.

"... okay, fine, it's not nothing", Matt admitted, very reluctantly, and kept his hands and eyes busy by belatedly reaching for the butter. "Maybe. But it's not like- I'm not even sure what it is, if it's even a thing. And uh, no offense, but I'd rather not talk about it if I'm not even gonna see you for another week. You know?"

He sort of rushed through that and then took another bite out of the (now hastily buttered) piece of toast.

Very slowly, Mohinder put the lid back on the butter tub and, equally slowly, kept his gaze away from Matt the entire time. That last look had startled him with how quickly Matt had been almost violently against it. And the touch, a normal one as far as Mohinder had been concerned, one he'd given to Matt many times over, being so very unwanted, was enough to make the Indian stand up from his place at the table and start to put away the dishes.

What did it mean any way? Because he'd be gone for a week they couldn't speak any more? And how was that fair? Mohinder wasn't sure why he was hurting, but he was. The tone. The vacant stare at anywhere but him--

What did I do?. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing.

"If I'm to be punished, you ought to fill me in on why that is at least." Had he been thinking of Matt again without realising it? Oh god. His mother said something, didn't she?

"Hang on, what?"

Matt had been just as silent as Mohinder during that pause. Even if he couldn't feel Mohinder try to think at him, he certainly imagined it. He knew him well enough. They'd communicated often that way. But punishment?

It made him stand. He pushed away the chair and kept a hand on the table and actually looked at Mohinder for the first time that morning. Really looked, no shying away, no avoidance.

"You think I'm punishing you?" That actually stung. Matt wasn't a vindictive person. He didn't go out of his way to hurt people. He didn't really raise his voice but there was that edge to it that came with these arguments they'd never seem to run out of. "I'm not- Jesus, Mohinder, no. No. Who do you think I am?"

"I don't know!" And that was at least half truth. "I really know nothing about you!" Or very little. There had been no real exchange of experiences between them, just a lump in of what they had already had together. While friendships grow on shat is shared, that didn't give anyone a full picture of. Person.

Mohinder scowled lightly as he shut the refrigerator door and spied Matt standing up. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head forward.

"Though I suppose I do know you well enough to know how this goes." Their fighting patterns were pretty usual. Hissing. Yelling. Matt pinning him into a corner and attempting intimidation.

Go on Matt. Prove him right.

"Just tell me what it is you're shutting me completely out for!"

Matt breathed in and looked for a second like he was going to do exactly that. It was a subconscious thing typically, the whole intimidation thing, but now he made a conscious effort to back off. He didn't want to get close. Not like that.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table but he fixed his eyes on Mohinder. It was in a defiant kind of way, honestly. Almost challenging.

"Yeah, no. You told me I wouldn't have to share just because you ask. Remember that?"

He'd been appreciative of that, so using it as leverage now felt unfair, but Matt really didn't want to tell Mohinder what was going on right now. The thought of that made him want to sink through the ground.

Tilting his head slightly to the side and watching Mohinder with a dark frown, Matt added in a lower tone, "But you know what, if that's what's bothering you so much, that you think you don't know me? Go ahead. Ask me anything. Except this. See if that'll make you feel better."

What could have gone so wrong? Why was he so defensive? Ask him anything but this? Mohinder's mind spun on its hamster wheel before he shut down a little and turned away. Secrets were something Mohinder was obviously use to. He felt like he shouldn't care as much as he did but it was too late now.

Mohinder glanced at Matt with a perfunctory sigh and shook his head.

"You're right. I'm sorry. You're entitled to your privacy. I should not have automatically assumed it was about me." Mohinder lightly pressed the heel of his wrist against his forehead. Perhaps being in this country made him more prone to use cultural cues from his childhood. He even bowed light. "My apologies."

He left the kitchen quickly enough and went out to the walled in garden.

No, wait, damn it. "Mohinder--" He made one or two indecisive movements before he followed the other man, reaching out to touch his shoulder, wanting him to turn around. "Mohinder, wait."

They normally fought. And even though Matt hadn't initiated the typical yelling match it was somehow upsetting to see Mohinder more or less give up. It worried him in a way because he wasn't ure if he'd just managed to cause more damage than ... well, than usual.

So he rubbed a hand over his neck and shifted an apologetic look to his friend, but there was a pull to his mouth that still told of the underlying problem and some of the remaining frustration.

"Look, I'm sorry. Could we - not do this? I'll tell you if there's something you need to know. Okay? Just ... not now."

"We aren't doing anything," Mohinder said immediately, a smile touching his lips but not his eyes. "I'm not angry with you." Actually, he'd been agreeing. If Matt had been thinking about Janice, or about his job, perhaps about Molly, or if something caused him to be sad, who was the Indian to insist on having a heart to heart? "I over reacted, it seems." He hoped.

Leaning his shoulder against the door for a moment, his head gave a little nod.

"Everything between us is fine." If only he believed that himself. Nothing was fine. Not now at least. But it would be. Mohinder just needed to delve back into work where even the thought of romance was utterly beyond him.

He did, however, need some space. A week here without Matt would do him the most good.

"If you need help packing or want to make another trip to sight see before you leave, give me about an hour and we can do that."

Matt smiled back to settle the truce, however long it'd last this time. They'd had several good, calm periods throughout the months but it seemed like they all too easily fell back into yelling at each other and while it had always grated on Matt's nerves it was especially troubling to him now.

"I packed", he said, and he had, the night before. He was settled as far as that went. He shrugged though, and the offer he made was tentative. "We could just head for a walk, later."

Not quite enough time to see sights before they needed to pack up and go through the motions at the airport, but Matt wouldn't mind just seeing what was around, the nearby areas. With Mohinder. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea for them to hang out but they both knew things were uneasy between them and maybe just doing something would soothe it a bit.

Besides, he figured it was a way for Mohinder to offer peace. He'd be stupid not to take it.

A bit of time to clear his head and read the newspaper was all Mohinder needed. He called one of his contacts at the university and then headed out to find Matt, peeking into the living room to find him seated on the couch, poking through a book. He watched him for a moment with a softer than usual smile and then cleared his throat.

"Ready?" There was only two hours before they would have to drive back to the airport but Molly was still out with his mother and they could just wander around a bit.

He didn't bother to try to talk mentally again. He cared for Matt but he would be hurt if he was shut out again. No one wanted that.

Mohinder did the guiding, pointing out old buildings and symbolism as they passed. India was a country of incredible colour and culture. And most of it likely went over Matt's head.

"When we visit next, I'll do a better job of showing you around."

"I'll do a better job of keeping up", Matt joked, because yeah - a lot of it went over his head, especially when he still wasn't listening in on Mohinder's mind. There were often little cues in people's heads, he'd started noticing, that sometimes added to the spoken message.

He hadn't joined his friend just for the hell of it though and did enjoy listening to Mohinder as he pointed things out and talked about his home. He had a soft tone for it. Probably equal parts nostalgia and familiarity.

"It's really different from the US. I bet you get homesick."

Just an observation. He'd never really considered before how different it must be for Mohinder, to have just settled down in New York after a life of ... well, all this.

"Strangely? No. Not really home sick at all. It might seem ridiculous to say, but I feel more at home in New York with Molly." The 'and you' was decidedly left off because it had caused problems before and that was not ever Mohinder's intention. Especially now. "I haven't really had all that much time at all to be homesick either. But busy with everything else."

Mohinder's gait was slow and controlled, hands behind his back save when he gestured. It was a comfort to be beside Matt again, though the capacity seemed strange. There was a wall he'd never encountered before and he realised that he missed the telepathic nudging at his thoughts from time to time, speaking to him as if he'd spoken first, even went that was far from the truth.

They ended up running into Molly as she jogged around the corner of the garden on their way back to the house. "Matt! Mohinder! It's almost time!"

She grabbed onto Mohinder's hand when he asked her what shed been doing. "It was a me and Grandma Suresh thing," she said, cheeky as always.

Matt grinned at her tone and held up his hands when she turned to him and said, "No peeking, Matt!"

He glanced very fleetingly at Mohinder but smiled fondly at their girl, saying simply, "Don't worry, I won't."

It was a bit of a rush after that with the usual last-minute double-checking of Matt's and Molly's pcaking, not to mention the passports and any other important items like money and ID cards. They'd pick up the tickets at the airport, so that was one less thing to worry about right then at least, and they piled into the car after saying their goodbyes to Zahra.

Mohinder got to drive. Molly was staring out the window a lot throughout the ride, but she kept rather close to Mohinder when they got out of the car and went towards the airport. It made sense, and her thoughts revolved around the three of them split up with a worrying undertone. Not any what-ifs, exactly. Just hoping they'd be okay without each other. She wasn't unhappy though, for the most part, was absolutely smiling - but the reluctance of letting go was very clear, especially when she practically clung to Mohinder when their flight was called.

"Promise you'll call!"

"Every single day," he promised, crouching down to hug the girl, dressed for the first time in western clothing. He nudged his nose into her hair and gripped her into a very tight hug. "I'll miss you, Ujala," he whispered. "You'll take care of him for me, right?"

Molly nodded fiercely and Mohinder smiled before he stood up. He gently handed over her massive elephant from his room, her carry on, just small enough to be allowed if she squished it.

He kissed the top of her head and then turned to Matt, not offering a hug or his hand. He would let Matt make the first move there but he figured they were still on awkward terms.

"Don't do take away every day. The new refrigerator will actually hold food," he teased. "Have a good flight all right? I'll call tomorrow."

They were on awkward terms because Matt couldn't quite look at Mohinder without flashing back to the dream, but he tried to keep it as far from his own thoughts as possible. He hesitated a moment and the indecision would probably show if you looked for it, but in the end, he didn't offer any kind of contact either.

And if he'd thought that'd actually make the whole thing less awkward, he was absolutely wrong.

"Yeah, don't worry." He answered with only half a smile before he put a hand to Molly's shoulder. The girl was looking between them. "Say hi to your mom again for us. See you in a few days."

He almost wanted to kick himself when they parted ways and Molly could probably tell from the way she was studying him, but she didn't say anything about that little display and Matt distracted her by talking about the new apartment and neighborhood.

It'd be a long few days, but maybe he wouldn't feel so damn fidgety at the end of them, and maybe he'd get the gently pleading matt out of his head.

He'd had better trips in the past, more important ones he'd thought at the time, but he'd never been so ready to leave India in his entire life... Not to attend Cambridge, not to find his father's killer. One little girl and a man he should not have feelings for was the catalyst for this particular exhibition. He'd kissed his mother goodbye with promises of phone calls and pictures of Molly regularly, an interview at New York University under his belt, and two phone interviews at high schools in Brooklyn to consider positions at if the former didn't go through.

Boarding a plane had never felt like such relief either. A week without his family was much too long but he felt, as he buckled himself in, that it was worthwhile. If he was lucky, seeing Matt again would be filled with a simple fondness and nothing more. And Molly could be his reason to keep going. Work would follow. Perhals research. And his life would be a happy one no matter what.

Having spoken to both Matt and Molly religiously since they'd left, Mohinder still was not expecting to come through customs to a massive sign with his name on it in glitter and markers and a little girl screaming: "there he is, Matt! Hold me up higher!"

He nearly stopped in his tracks before his eyes teared up. Any weariness he'd had left as he embraced them both.

"Let's go home."

It was an absolutely heartwarming group hug, so much like the one they'd had in an airport in a different country a week earlier. Molly was all laughs and hugs and words and Matt was quieter but no less warm when he looped an arm around Mohinder's shoulders and said over the girl's head, "Hey, welcome back."

He meant it. They'd both missed him.

Things had been fairly uneventful in New York. Thanks to Matt's gentle suggestions Molly's disappearance hadn't been scrutinized and she'd spent a lot of time enlightening the other kids in her class about India, and at home she was catching up on school work when she didn't pick out new things for her room. Not much had been added, but she'd found a few pictures and posters that Matt had dutifully put up.

Matt worked. He helped people. His head injury was healing up nicely and he'd peeled off the bandage. He cooked some and tried to help Molly with her homework and they were settling into a routine, but they'd been a trio for so long that it had always been quite obvious that Mohinder was missing.

They took a cab home. Molly couldn't quite stop tugging at Mohinder and pulled him into her room to show the additions as soon as she could, so Matt smiled fondly at the pair of them and went to put away Mohinder's bags and called at them, "What do you say we eat out tonight?"

"Like a celebration!" Molly called back, and Matt shrugged off his jacket with a grin.

Mohinder's credit cards were going to hate him after this but he couldn't say no to Molly. Her idea of celebrating was a chain restaurant that served unlimited spaghetti anyhow. None of that would break the bank too badly. Besides, watching her twirl around breadsticks and get dizzy on the sugar rush of too much soda was precious.

Mohinder wanted to take a shower but he was quick, dressing down in a dark turtleneck and light washed jeans. He looked unintentionally good, hair a bit ruffled and those horribly attractive glasses back on his face. The bruising around his eyes had gone down considerably and the lacerations around his mouth were missing too.

He sat across from Molly and Matt in the booth at dinner, eyes schooled on the girl alone and thoughts on the pasta selection, the salad, and how good it would be to... Oh right. Sleep on the floor. Oh well.

"Then you'll start on investigations again? Late shifts?" Molly was in her own little world coloring. "I have an interview tomorrow. Will you be able to get her from school?"

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