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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Immediately defensive, Mohinder shot back with: "I wouldn't let you use her again!" which was, understandably, not the sort of argument that they ought to be having now. He'd been against Matt using Molly to find his dad and what happened to her? She'd been locked up inside of her own mind. Hundreds of miles away from where the man had been hiding! Mohinder realised, at least, that fighting right now was a bad idea. They'd fought over it before. It hadn't really come to a resolution but it was enough to let Mohinder remove his talons from the objection. He moved to pinch the bridge of his nose and luckily, thought better of it.

So he apologised before they could start yelling at each other again. When this was over, when this was settled, they'd have to have it all out. Hopefully it would resolve itself, bring them both a little closure but for now--

Discussing Sylar's abilities were just a bit beyond Mohinder. He didn't know if Sylar would be able to retain the powers he'd had before, or what powers he might have gotten while Mohinder was stuck in Odessa. Though-- "It would have taken him time to track down the Bennets. And that means he wouldn't have had time to try to get the list of other people with abilities. He can feel people with abilities. I've seen him do it, Matt," Mohinder said, feeling more and more sick to his stomach. "The only way he'd be able to hunt down more would be to get to Molly, to get to me, or to stand in the middle of a crowd and hope to follow someone home."

Which made Mohinder swallow.

"He's probably on his way back to New York."

It was fortunate that Mohinder chose to let it go, at least for the moment, because the way Matt looked at him quickly became dangerously tense. He'd been just as scared as Mohinder had been, and oh, he was still swimming in the guilt of it all, but he'd gotten her back. And if they were really going to fight about it he wasn't above snapping at Mohinder for the crap he had pulled, either.

But as it was dropped, he just grit his teeth and looked away for a moment. They didn't have time for this. They could yell all they wanted later, but right now ...

Well, right now there was new and worrying information, and Matt's eyes snapped up to Mohinder's face again.

"Feel them? Feel them how?" And with a slow breath, listening to the many thoughts in Mohinder's mind, "New York. Great. The list is still there." He stood up straighter, no longer leaning against the wall. "We get there before him. He'll know we're there, but he's cocky. Arrogant. I've seen these people before, the kind that ... they- the moment they think they're invincible, that's when they stop being careful. We just need a plan. I'll get Peter."

Teleporting. Again. Mohinder let his anxiety about that out with an exhale through his nose. His eyes closed for a moment before he lightly touched Matt on the arm to keep him there for a moment. "After I tried to put an end to the man, Peter inadvertently came to my rescue. Sylar knew it about it even before the door opened. It's as if his ability allows him to sense when another ability is near. It's a bit like Peter's empathy. In fact, I might say it works similarly enough that we need to... We need to be careful."

Sylar might not collect powers the way that Peter could, and he might not access his powers the way that Peter was able to either, but rewriting your DNA (and that was just a theory, Mohinder had never studied Sylar for more than the hour he'd been drugged and tied up in his flat) must take parts of yourself away in the process. Right?

"The more he changes himself, the more dangerous he becomes. Not simply due to his power acquisition, but because he becomes so much more desperate. It's as if what he can do is an addiction. Now-- I doubt he'll be able to fly home, considering how he looks and the reduced air traffic due to the outbreak but he's got a head start. And who knows if he'll make any stops on the way back. He have a few days at least."

A few days to prepare...

Peter found them before Matt could retrieve Peter and when Mohinder repeated what he'd told Matt, Peter nodded stoically.

"You guys ready?" Hands on each of their shoulders, Mohinder wasn't given time to protest before they're standing in his living room with a screaming, afraid young woman. Her eyes immediately turned black-- Mohinder, having felt this before, pressed a hand to his chest.

"Maya-- Maya, stop!"

Edited 2014-01-27 16:19 (UTC)

Matt found that he wasn't nearly as averse to teleportation as Mohinder, but this was probably due to the fact that he'd tried human flight and teleportation easily knocked that one out of the park. The moment of vertigo and disorientation was worth it for the swiftness and precision of the whole thing.

This - the sudden sensation of choking, the loudness of the strange voice, those things coupled with that vertigo had Matt on his knees before he'd even properly managed to take in the sight of those familiar walls of what had somewhere down the line become his home.

Bracing himself against his arms he heard the frantic sobbing voice of Maya, heard her thoughts too, it was all a mess, and then somewhere behind him Peter drew in a choked breath and made a sound that was a bit like coughing except there was no air behind it. When Matt's shoulder hit the floor, his vision blurred, he caught the black eyes of Peter staring desperately back at him.

He felt faint.

Thing was, Maya had started calming down, willed himself to the moment she recognised Mohinder, rambling apologies mixed with tears, saying she was sorry, she didn't know where else to go, so sorry - but as her eyes eventually cleared, Peter's didn't. He had no idea how to control it.

"_{Help ...}"

The double whammy of both powers hitting him at once, no matter how quickly Maya's cleared up, has Mohinder breathless. The woman's face is tracking tears as she goes to Mohinder in apology, but the Indian lightly, and weakly, pushes her off. "Maya--"

"He's like me!" she proclaimed, perhaps a little too much wonder than Mohinder would have liked (though completely understood).

"Go-- Tell him... Calm him down--" At least she didn't argue the point. She was smart and understood at least he role in this. She gripped Peter by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. Much of what she said was in Spanish, but either her tones were soothing or Peter had retained enough high school Spanish to understand enough what she was saying to him.

Though Mohinder was not a religious man, he did thank God when the pressure off of his chest and the sickness running through his veins cleared up. He got himself slowly to his feet before offering a hand to Matt.

"Maya...this is Matt Parkman and Peter Petrelli. They both have abilities like you. Peter is able to mimic abilities. Matt is a telepath." Yep. Outing everyone. They didn't have time to play here. "Did Sylar come back?"

Maya shook her head, still petting Peter like she might a dog. "No-- Why?"

"We're pretty sure he'll be on his way here...perhaps for the computer." Or for Mohinder himself.

Matt very gratefull took the offered hand, still feeling weak even as he got to his feet. He held onto Mohinder's wrist for a moment before he let go and refocused. "What the hell was that?" he asked the room somewhat breathlessly without actually expecting an answer. That had been completely, one hundred percent terrifying. He immediately distrusted the girl - it was unfair, and he knew it. But it was still there.

Peter looked just as shaken as Matt felt, if not moreso. He leant against their kitchen table, hands behind him to hold onto the edge, swallowing as he looked at the others. He'd probably figure out a way to use that later, but the initial complete and utter lack of control reminded him of the radiation. Of exploding. He wouldn't let something like that happen again.

Maya looked scared, a hand coming up to her mouth. "He's on his way? Then we can't stay here ..."

"We'll probably have a day or two before he shows up", Matt answered her despite her looking to Mohinder. She looked a bit startled to be adressed by him. She seemed easily spooked in general and Matt found that to be a problem. "You probably don't want to be here when he does." It was unfair, it was unfriendly, but Matt couldn't help the hard tone.

"Matt's right," Mohinder said, but without the malice or the distrust behind it. He'd saved this woman's life, somewhat literally, and that made him feel responsible for it. Taking Maya by the hand the same way he did to Molly, Mohinder drew her back slightly towards the kitchen. "The lab might be the safest place for you. Sylar won't go back there. It's monitored. Elle will absolutely keep surveillance on it--"

"Elle...Bishop?" Peter just had to chime in and Mohinder, not knowing that she'd been a sort of liaison with Peter when he checked himself in to Pinehearst, just nodded.

"If Sylar comes," Mohinder continued, "she will be able to help you. And what's better, there's hardly anyone around the loft, Maya. Should you run into him, he will be one of the only people affected by your ability!"

It seemed to be enough to get her to agree to go, though she did hug him rather tightly. "Please, Doctor Suresh... You will still help me?"

"Maya, I will do my very best, the moment we are all safe," he promised, pulling back to take her hands again, for just a moment, before he offered her some money to take a taxi to Isaac's old loft.

Mohinder was not entirely sorry to see her go, to be honest. Her ability, and now Peter's ability, were simply too dangerous.

Matt watched the two of them discuss that with a bit more darkness than was strictly needed. He didn't like her, didn't trust her, and for some reason it aggravated him how calm and gentle Mohinder was with her. He kept silent, arms crossed, until the door shut behind her. He listened for her thoughts until she was down the stairs and only then did this body language open a bit, the knot formed by his arms loosening.

"Okay", he said, kind of clipped, looking first at Mohinder and then to Peter. "I don't know about you guys, but I think we need a tally. What we can do and what Sylar can do. What we have that he wants and whatever he could use to ... I don't know, try to control us, blackmail us, whatever."

While speaking, he moved through the room to Mohinder's desk, tapping at it with his knuckles as he went to check the drawer. "You still have the gun?"

"I still have the gun," Mohinder said and made a gesture for Matt to check in the underside drawer with his hand. He never managed to figure out how to strap on his own shoulder holster, but at least he had bullets and the weapon. Two boxes full of rounds wouldn't do much to Sylar, but it could be a distraction. It was the only thing Mohinder actually had to protect himself.

Not much at all.

This place had seen the effects of Sylar in action before. There were pieces of glass still embedded in the cabinets, sanded off of course, but Mohinder had been unable to pull them all out. He'd barely gotten all of the pieces out of his own skin, alone, hands trembling as he sat in the apartment after delivering Peter's dead body to his family.

There were scars from that ordeal too.

Peter helped himself to a glass of water and Mohinder ducked into Molly's bedroom to be absolutely sure that it was safe inside. It looked like nothing at all had been touched. There was still a film of glitter on the carpet from her last, non-crayon based art project.

Peter ran through his abilities once he was settled, listing them out as if checking off boxes while he went. "Telekinesis, flight, immortality, radiation, electro--"

"Electrokinesis," Mohinder supplied when Peter seemed to struggle with the word.

"Right. Super strength-- You know, if you let me talk to Molly--"

"No." Mohinder was adamant about that. Peter was already a walking buffet for Sylar. Giving him their girl's power? No. "Forget Molly exists."

Matt wasted no time in taking that gun out to look at. His own had been left behind at the precinct; he didn't want to bring a gun into a fight fought with powers. He'd never forget four bullets to the chest. He wouldn't forget Sylar almost forcing Audrey to blow her own head off, either.

He checked the amount of bullets, made sure the gun was clean and wouldn't jam, double-checked the safety - all standard things he'd been doing a hundred times before. He was loading it up properly when Peter started counting his powers off. The casual tone in which he did would have been really pretty scary if he hadn't been on their side.

"We're not dragging her into this mess again", Matt agreed when he put the gun back in the drawer, coming around to lean against the front of it. "Don't forget telepathy", he added, nodding towards Peter, who tilted his head back slightly, considering it. "And whatever the hell that thing she just did was."

Yeah, no, sorry. He still couldn't keep the hostility out of his voice. Peter's eyes narrowed slightly though before something in his expression seemed to both simultaneously relax and sharpen.

"You know, I'd forgotten about the mind control. That's a game-changer, Matt. If you can get into his head, we have a real shot."

Kettle on a burner, coffee and tea already prepared in cups, milk set out after a passing a sniff test, Mohinder had busied himself doing what non-superpowered individuals did best: prepared their troops for battle via home cooked meals and comfort. He'd only been half listening, knowing Peter's list fairly well himself, until that 'mind control' issue came up.

Game-changer.

Mohinder nearly dropped the peanut butter as he fished it out of the refrigerator and did bang his head on it as he jerked upright. Cursing in Hindi, eyes wide, he waited for some sort of explanation.

At least until Peter turned his head at the sounds of distress (mentally and physically) coming from the kitchen. "Mohinder? You all--" But the Indian was looking at Matt, not him.

"Mind control now?" He wasn't sure if he should be excited (he was excited honestly) or hurt or even a little worried. "You can read minds. You can transmit your own thoughts to other people telepathically. Enter dreams..and now control people? What else is it that I don't know?"

Told him everything-- Everything-- Knows everything about me-- Don't know him at all. Four months and he can't trust me. Of all people that might understand-- Knows everything and I know nothing-- his thoughts were wired as he slammed the peanut butter on the counter.

Peter looked surprised and Matt could clearly hear it, the you didn't tell him?, but he only vaguely waved a hand towards him and Peter took the hint. He didn't say anything and kept his head down. Mohinder's own racing thoughts were proof enough that it went beyond just Matt being able to do something new and he wasn't looking to get involved.

For his own part, Matt flinched when he heard all of those things, not to mention at the way Mohinder practically flung it at him. That's what he'd been scared of, he realized. People being ... scared. Accusational, maybe - assuming things. He never wanted to be like Maury. He didn't want -

"I never asked for it, okay?" Matt shot back, defensive. He gestured towards his own head. "I don't know what this- this thing is! I just want-"

He cut himself off, not quite able to look Mohinder in the eyes, hand rubbing his neck when he found himself pacing the living room. His voice dipped low, but he did explain. He knew he had to. If nothing else to still that hurt that was echoing in his friend's head.

"I, uh- I can make people do things. It's like I'm ... I can push my thoughts into their heads, and they do it. It's how I made everyone listen to Nathan at the PD", he muttered. "It's something my father told me. Sort of. Said that- it becomes more, and since then I've just been doing things, and I can't explain half of them."

The things Matt could do, and so quickly ought to scare him. Mohinder's certainly proven to be scared of just about everything, even though he tended to give people entirely too many chances. Hate was nothing he felt towards Matt, and the disappointment was only in himself. Once again, he felt inadequate...not just in the inability to have an ability, but to be the sort of man others actually wanted to be friends with.

He was not trust worthy. He was weak. The most he could do was analyses blood and... No one actually needed that any more. Hadn't he been utterly useless in Odessa?

"An interesting overlap of powers," Mohinder said, though he sounded more downtrodden than anything else. He turned back around to slap peanut butter on some bread and be done with it. "I've not run across other examples of parents passing on abilities to their offspring."

Talking like a scientist and not a man had gotten him out of heartache before. Pretending he didn't care was the best way to isolate yourself.

He cut off the crusts without thinking and placed a sandwich in front of Peter just as the kettle signaled it's boil.

"It's not interesting, it's freaking me the hell out!"

Matt snapped because he felt anxious. And defensive. And he really, really wished Mohinder would stop thinking that way, and doing that thing he was doing, so he completely ignored Peter telling himself to not actually turn invisible on the spot and went up to turn Mohinder around by the shoulder. It was with a bit more force he'd really intended.

And so they were in each other's faces, again.

"Stop it, okay? Just stop. Stop. Don't feel sorry for yourself when there's no good reason. Yeah, you mess up, but at least you try to fix it when you do, and you're a better father to Molly than I am when you feel like actually being around for a change!"

That gripe from the Bennet house still stung, evidently. Retaliation was reflexive. Again, Matt felt defensive for many reasons, some of them he didn't really care to understand.

"Did it ever occur to you that it's not about you, huh? Maybe the reason I didn't tell you anything is cause I don't trust myself. How's that for a friendship?"

Know what? Peanut butter sandwiches taste just as good in the back bedroom. Peter excused himself with his plate and quietly shut the door behind him. Neither of the other men were paying that much attention to anyone other than each other anyway and Peter thought, smirking, that though the didn't have time for it, perhaps a little arguing with a little less clothing on would settle the two down. He smirked to himself as he sat on the end of the bed, really very pleased with the snack. He was never fond of crusts, actually. And Mohinder did make a pretty good dad.

Now if only he could drown them out, he'd be set! Thin walls didn't make for a lot of privacy and sandwiches get eaten pretty damned quickly.

"I think I should be told what I can expect as we'll be living together. This isn't a flatmate discussion that consists of animal and food allergies or rules about cleaning schedules, Matt!" Mohinder just wanted to be included.

That was the source of all of his insecurities. He had never been a part of something like this before and being edged out was starting to drive him mad. Truly, what was the point of even being here? Matt could just mind control Sylar off of a bridge!

"For being a telepath, and having an unfair advantage is nearly every situation we've ever found ourselves in, you don't know how to communicate! It can't be so one-sided, Matt! I'd like to be your friend!"

"What the hell, Mohinder, I told you everything about my stupid power! Maybe if you hadn't been off working for the Company-"

Unfair advantage, yeah right. Matt was practically growling and he pushed away from the other man with a hand in his hair before he seemingly regretted the distance and was right back where he'd started, blocking Mohinder against the sink from the rest of the room.

"What was I supposed to say? Nevermind the few hundread dead people, I could make them do the limbo if they'd been alive? There's been no time! I don't even want to have this power to begin with, I never wanted any of it!"

Which wasn't really true, if he was completely honest with himself. He'd always wanted a family and now he had one.

Mohinder didn't appreciate being loomed over, but he kept his hands back against the counter he was forced to lean against rather than give Matt the push he absolutely deserved. They didn't need to turn another fight physical. Mohinder was tough, but he'd been punched enough in his life to never want to experience that again. His poor face wouldn't take it.

Matt's intense agitation didn't egg Mohinder on, luckily. As Matt grew frustrated and upset and frankly, a bit horrible mentioning the dead of Odessa, Mohinder found himself deflated and ill at ease with the other man. Trust was not an issue. He didn't believe Matt would use his ability against him like that any way.

White flag. Truce. Mohinder held up his hands, palms up.

"All right, all right," he said, trying to be soothing. The accent surely helped. He didn't mention the sudden jealous thought about how Peter had known, that there had been time for Peter because it didn't matter. "The things I've done-- I can't take them back. No matter how much I might wish I could." He dropped both his hands and his eyes away from Matt, shoulders slumping as he exhaled the anger from his body. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't feel obligated to tell me anything you don't want to, nor anything you're not comfortable with."

His head was hurting all over again.

And just like that, Matt was done being angry, too. At least in the phyical sense. He backed off in a literal way, sat down at the kitchen table with his head in one hand as he absorbed the apology. Returned it.

"I ... I did mean to tell you, Mohinder. I promise. Molly, she's- she's our girl, you said so yourself. That won't work unless we're friends, and ... I'm trying. I am, I'm sorry." He thought briefly to Janice, again. She'd talked about it too, about how he'd never really talked to her, but that had come from Matt figuring that she didn't want to listen to him anyway. It wsn't that way now, was it?

When he was saying that he wasn't looking at Mohinder, but he looked up at him again with a different expression after a small period of silence.

"You know what I did to my dad?" He waited for the no surface either verbally or mentally before he shrugged. Looked away again, moved his hand from his face to pick at something on the table. "I trapped him in a nightmare. Same way he trapped Molly. What kind of power is that?"

As Matt retreated, Mohinder followed, sitting in 'his' spot at the table, across from Matt. He laid a hand on the table, as if prepared to touch the other man, though he was fairly certain that wouldn't be wanted. It was easier to comfort women and children. Men... Men just wanted solemn nods or shoulder nudges. Camaraderie like that was more difficult for Mohinder to wrap his head around, honestly.

And still? He tried.

When Matt looked at him, all he would see was an interested, concerned friend. Mohinder might be a scientist, he might be dying to know how Matt could do what he could do, but he understood that this power was frightening to Matt-- It was frightening to him as well.

Mouth open, Mohinder shut it again and swallowed.

"I'm sorry your dad ended up being-- But Matt, you're not your father. You're a good man. A good man with a difficult ability, yes, but still a good man. The power-- It could go either way. If you use it for good-- Locking your father up? That was good. You protected our girl."

Matt smiled slightly and shook his head. "Yeah. 'Cept she wouldn't have been in that nightmare anyway if I hadn't made her look for him. I heard her scream for us in her head, you know."

It was coming up a bit now. Maybe it was the wish to explain now, in a better way, the apology evident in his body language altogether - he was making himself smaller just by the way he was leaning. Meaning, basically, that this was the real issue. The avoidance was a clear indicator.

Maybe it also had to do with the fact that they were home again. They'd both tried so damn hard to keep this place safe and it held so much familiarity.

"Besides, you made it pretty clear how much you hated that move. I guess I just ... wasn't sure how you'd react. Knowing that I can do the same thing. Or worse."

"I care for you." Possibly something men don't say to each other, Mohinder couldn't help himself as he leaned towards Matt. His friend might be shrinking himself down, might be hiding, but Mohinder couldn't hide. That was the worst of it. He was an open book, and he knew it.

It was sort of amazing how different they were when it came right down to it. Mohinder broached the distance, however, and reached forward to put his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I know you might think that doesn't matter--" Americans. He smirked slightly at that. "But there may well be nothing you could tell me that would push me so far away that I wouldn't be willing to listen to anything at all that you'd want to tell me."

He might not have had friends, or experience with friends, but he trusted Matt implicitly.

"Whatever is going on inside your head... It's safe to tell me. Or... Or not tell me. Whatever you decide."

Matt was looking down, but he nodded. "No, that ... does mean a lot. Thanks."

He wasn't all that good with friends either, to be perfectly honest. At least none to this degree, that knew a lot about him and were in such a close situation to him. He'd had buddies and acquaintances but for years the person he'd felt closest to was Janice and she was out of the picture.

So when he looked up again with a small smile to show for that gratitude, well. It was just nice to have a moment of that silence after all the yelling they never seemed to manage to go that long without.

And that's when Peter cleared his throat and almost made Matt jump. The younger man was leaning against the door frame to the bedroom.

"Are you two lovebirds settled yet, or do you need another minute? Cause I could ..."

He gestured towards the apartment door, eyebrows raised.

Oh! Oh the look Mohinder gave Peter was more than a little annoyed. He was having a moment-- He couldn't help but feel a little cheated. Getting to his feet, he went back to the kitchen to make Matt a sandwich too. "We're fine. Sorry for the outburst," he promised, leaving the crusts on this particular concoction. He added blackberry jam as well and placed the dish in front of Matt before finally pouring himself a cup of tea.

They still had work to do, even if that work was just a lot of resting and discussing contingency plans. He didn't appreciate Peter being...

Observant. Whatever he might feel for Matt, something he was honestly unsure of himself, he didn't care to have it advertised. Making the effort to guard his thoughts, Mohinder made one more sandwich for Peter and then went to sit on the couch.

The waiting game?

They were getting good at it.

Peter gave Matt an upward tilting eyebrow and shrugged a sorry in his direction. Sorry for interrupting that was.

Somehow, Matt didn't think Peter was entirely sorry, but he didn't have the energy to actually question that other by raising his eyebrows right back. There was a pause of silence as the telepaths had a brief communication about it, because Peter couldn't help but think it - So ... is it always like this? to which Matt thought back with a roll of his eyes, No, actually.

Because it wasn't. Most of the time things were ... fine. Easy, even happy. It was just that it seemed like Matt and Mohinder both dealt with pressure points by trying to yell them into disappearing.

He couldn't help but feel a bit of a loss when Mohinder left the room even if it was only a short distance. It was odd, but in the end he didn't try to get him to come back. What would he say, really?

He took a bite out of the sandwich instead and spoke around the mouthful of bread.

"So, Sylar", and that's where they started bullet pointing what they knew what he could do, a discussion that lasted a while as it was an unreliable memory game. Eventually they got to a different but related topic, one of what Sylar wanted from them, and this had Matt worry his lip as he shot Mohinder a glance.

Molly. Mohinder.

Honestly, all of them, but Matt knew reasons why both of them would be of particular interest to the killer. ... actually, if he didn't advertise his power? He was probably the least interesting of the bunch to him. That was only somewhat comforting.

"He wants this," Mohinder said after the conversation died down, holding up a thumb drive. "I'm going to wipe everything on this computer. All of my research, all of my father's algorithms for finding people like you, all of my work on how to look for genetic markers in cheek swabs. And, unfortunately, Molly's progress on her princess game." The corners of his lips drifted upwards. Mohinder just needed a little time to brood, and to work alone, to feel more like he was part of the team again.

He rounded the beaten up sofa, computer balanced on one hand, and tossed the thumb drive at Peter.

"Put this somewhere safe," he said. "Anywhere in the world you'd like. I don't want to know about it. I don't want Sylar to get anything from me," no matter what, came the implication.

Of course, Mohinder still knew most of what was in this computer in his head. He could still talk, but without the computer program (something even he couldn't recreate), Sylar would be lost.

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