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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The position was a little awkward, initially, until Matt gave up trying to understand it and settled with his legs stretched out over the armrest of the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable once he let Mohinder fuss and although he found that he was still shaking a little at the hands and didn't know what to do with them, he slowly relaxed with Mohinder's predictable motions through his hair.

"If that's true, you can't have known any decent people, ever", he summarised the statement somewhat awkwardly. "I just ... did what I had to do. The right thing to do. Or that's what I hope."

He wasn't sure how to tackle the other pieces Mohinder had told him, and no, his mind still wasn't fully adding it all up, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Being liked and wanted. He'd tried to model himself a lot for Janice, try to be what she wanted or needed him to be, but Mohinder - it had never been that way between them. It was freeing, in a sense. He felt good with that.

Stretching out a hand in front of himself to find that he was still trembling slightly, he closed it into a fist ... and seemed to be struck by something amusing, despite that. He smiled a little and looked up at the younger man.

"I feel a bit like Molly, right now", he admitted in a surprisingly light tone. "I keep expecting you to sing."

"Not many, perhaps," Mohinder replied, finishing the last of the bandages and balling the wrappings up in his hand to throw out later. Why he was still trying to be neat was beyond him. He'd lost the deposit long ago and he could hardly be accused of caring less than he did at that moment. "Though I thought you were one of the bad guys when we first met." And how quickly had that changed?

Mohinder took to stroking Matt's hair full time as he glanced at the way the detective's hand shook. There really wasn't anything he could do for that, to be honest. It was all nerves and Matt was a ball of them. He could feel it in the way he shifted his weight and the way he sort of lost focus talking.

Sylar's mind-- It must have been awful. Worse than Matt had tried to convey.

"I must tell you, Molly's hair is nicer," Mohinder joked, though he did start to hum, if only to try and calm his friend down, free hand lighting gently on Matt's chest and eyes focused on the curve of his lips...or the oozing head wound he kept wishing would disappear.

Matt snorted; he'd never forget that first encounter. Fire extinguishers to the back of the head had a way of being entirely too memorable. "Yeah, I sort of got the idea."

Just talking - that was nice. It helped him find some ground to will away the fractures from his own head. He was hardly an expert (or maybe he was, now, who else could do what he could, in all honesty?) but he didn't think anything had changed in him from the contact. Just ... the memories of the ferocity would stick around for a while. It was like having witnessed the Walker crime scene. The images haunted him still. Now the reasoning behind them would too.

After a moment of silence on his own end, his eyes idly fixed to the ceiling as he listened to the wordless melody, he reached one of his hands up to catch hold of Mohinder's lower arm. He didn't really reflect much on it - it was just a gentle hold, something to beg for a pause. His fingers had dried blood on them.

"Thanks", he said simply.

The hand on his arm did give him pause and Mohinder shifted slightly to his side to lay his cheek against the back of the sofa. Somewhere to the left was the remains of the television and the rest of the curio cabinet was in disarray around them. "No need," he replied, fingertips pressing into Matt's chest as his eyelids fell to half mast. "But we are going to have to find a new place before we bring Molly back with us."

Eventually, Mohinder's fingers fell still in Matt's hair and perhaps he was on the verge of dozing when Peter returned. Mohinder didn't want to know where Sylar was, he didn't want to know what Peter had done with the body. There were a few nods passed around before the Indian was instructed to hold Matt's head still, on his lap.

Peter didn't bother to tease this time. He didn't really care what they did with their lives, though if anyone asked him, he thought that they were being unreasonable stupid with their fighting when it was obvious that they cared for each other. There were too many social conventions these days.

But no one asked him. So all he did was suture Matt's forehead closed and slap a better bandage on there for him. Mohinder, of course, got a once over too. A sprained wrist and two cracked ribs left Peter with not even a scrap of ace bandage left over in his bag.

"Listen guys. I think it's time I go back to my family but...uh... Listen. Thanks. For being there. And helping me. Both of you."

Matt wasn't very interested in knowing either, but he did share a few thoughts with Peter just to confirm that Sylar definitely wouldn't bother anyone again. There wasn't really a lot to say after that other than Peter giving one or two instructions on what to do with the wounds if anything happened. In the end, when he said his thanks, it was just about saying them back.

He left after a hug between him and Mohinder and shoulder touching between him and Matt, with a mutual promise that if either side needed the other, they could count on each other.

It was silent despite the fact that it was still daytime outside after Peter disappeared. It was like the noise didn't really dare enter the apartment when they were both so tired and shaken and even shakier with the relief - and disbelief - of the whole thing being over.

"Okay", Matt was saying as he poured himself a glass of milk. "We want out of here by tomorrow. Let's just ... pack what we need, set everything up. Then ... sleep. Yeah."

It was an agreement to something Mohinder had been thinking and Matt was feeling happy about the company. They were a team, they were a family. They looked out for each other.

Mohinder took his time packing Molly's things. He'd sent her off with most of it, but there were boxes to be filled with toys and books and her hair things. He folded up her uniform carefully and tucked little socks in the spaces left over. Matt had less things to worry about and Mohinder barked at him to go to bed the first time he caught the larger man looking dizzy. "You've lost entirely too much blood. My room. I mean it. I'll be in in a moment."

He packed a dufflebag with the remaining pieces of Matt's wardrobe and a few nicknacks from his father's initial stay at the place. He set the packed things by the door and followed Matt, as promised, to his room to pack up his suitcase.

Maybe he spent too much time trying to choose his clothing, maybe he was just delaying the inevitable. Leaving tomorrow, as ready as he was for it, was a big move. They hadn't even looked anywhere...but a short term lease ought to be just fine until they could get something more permanent.

Once he'd finished folding up jeans and underwear, Mohinder sighed and carefully climbed into bed beside Matt. "How's your head?" he asked softly, hands to himself this time. "Still dizzy?"

Matt didn't curl up when he slept. He was a big guy and usually claimed that space. Now, however, with his head still throbbing and ... yeah, spinning some, he was happy to bury himself into the mattress and burrow into the closest pillow in a way he usually didn't.

When Mohinder appeared beside him, he blinked and looked up, having listened to the other man pack up everything with his eyes drifting close. "Only when I move", he said with an expression caught somewhere between a halfway smile and completely serious. "Think we're all set?"

Aside from the fact that they had no plans for where to go, it seemed they were. Matt could sense the bit of conflict Mohinder had when he thought about it but chose not to comment on it. He hoped it'd be a good thing for all of them. Just to get away from the continuous reminders of what had happened there - to all of them, now. Before all this it had just been Mohinder who had seen bad things in the apartment. Now, Molly had too. And Matt himself.

"What time is it in India?" he asked with that reflection, watching-but-not-quite-seeing as Mohinder started shedding the first layer of clothing. That seemed like a good call, he'd just kind of faceplanted on top of the bed and settled with that for the time being for his own part. He sat up slowly, refraining from touching the head injury. "You should call Molly."

"They're eleven hours ahead of us," Mohinder mutters, hips sticking out over the waistband of his jockey shorts, tee shirt riding up over the small of his back before catching on the bandages around his ribs. He didn't care how undressed he was right now. Everything hurt and getting up wasn't an option. "That makes it after midnight." Thank God. "I'll call when I wake up." It felt like he could sleep for days and if that was what his body wanted, that was what his body would get.

He could feel Matt shifting around over there and he reached blindly for the other man to wrap his fingers around his shirt and tug him down. The act itself might not be entirely successful, but it should have gotten his point across.

Lay down.

"Call Molly, find a ready to move in flat, sign a lease, drop our things there, go get Molly--" There might be a few more steps in there too but Mohinder's half eating the pillow.

Matt relented, lying back down with a faintly amused glance at Mohinder when he rolled over on his side, making a bit of space. "Mm. Remember to eat at some point."

He was quiet as Mohinder settled down and his breathing evened out but Matt found himself awake for quite a long time. Looking up at the ceiling and counting cracks in it ... he was exhausted, mentally especially so, but it was the kind that wouldn't let you rest.

He didn't leave, though, and when Mohinder inevitably crept closer in his sleep Matt let him and eventually drifted into a light sleep.

He didn't feel all that rested when he woke, but he felt okay, for the first time since Kaito Nakamura's murder.

... it struck him that he'd pulled a total disappearing act on his job and the realization settled with a small groan. But at least that one should be an easy fix.

Someone in his bed created a new centre of gravity. Mohinder was drawn to the heat, to the feel of a solid weight against him. Yes, that meant getting comfortable at Matt's expense, fitting himself back against the other man's chest with precision even as he kicked the blankets up enough to cover socked feet. At least while facing away from the detective, Matt didn't have to worry about the Indian holding him again. No matter how strange it might be to have another man's backside so close to your hips, of course.

Too exhausted to dream, the undercurrent of Mohinder's sleeping thoughts were more mundane than usual. He dreamed of socks and folding laundry -- something normal. After the last few weeks, all he wanted was to return to the life that they'd had.

Mohinder woke a few hours later, the commotion of Brooklyn momentarily terrifying before he settled into the rhythm of traffic again, honking horns, people shouting.

The clock told him it was two in the morning but his stomach reminded him that Matt's suggestion about eating really ought to be heeded.

Did anyone deliver pizza this late, he wondered, waiting on his bladder to force him out of bed before moving. Despite his injuries, for which he really ought to take some medication, he feels good. Relieved. Safe.

It was strange. It was essentially spooning. Matt was no stranger to the act itself and honestly quite liked the intimacy that came with it, but knowing that it was Mohinder made him feel all kinds of awkward about it. He more or less just let him be, trying not to think too hard about it. That said, it was a whole not nicer to think about Mohinder than Sylar and the virus, so he did when he drifted off.

And woke, almost immediately, when Mohinder left. He rolled over to his back and covered his eyes with his hands when he called out to him, not actually sure whether that had been a thought or speech and not paricularly caring either way.

"It's New York, of course they do! Don't get anything with shrimp on it", he added as he glanced at the clock as well.

Well, their sleeping schedules would be messed with for a while. Maybe just as well since Molly would probably be jetlagged to hell anyway.

He took a few more moments til he got up, dizzy from standing but knowing that he wouldn't really want to sleep if Mohinder was awake anyway. He leaned on the door frame and looked blankly at the blood stain in the living room.

"Why would I get--" Mohinder stopped himself and stuck the toothbrush back in his mouth. --shrimp on pizza? I believe that's popular in Japan. Maybe most roommates wouldn't be so pleased to have conversations like this while completing their 'morning' routine but Mohinder didn't mind a mental conversation while he scrubbed his tongue and scratched the back of one bare calf with a toe.

He made a wide berth of the blood as well, careful not to step on any glass, and padded passed Matt to the bedroom again to pull on a pair of jeans. Walking around in your underwear is fine so long as he's alone, but Matt might not appreciate it. While he's there, he steps into some shoes as well. No need to cut up his feet.

"Sit down. I'll change your bandage and you can give Molly a call," Mohinder ordered. It was like things never changed for them. Minus the small disaster of their apartment and the gash across Matt's forehead.

Hope that doesn't scar-- Then again, I rather like the others. I suppose it's an American trait to-- And you're listening in aren't you?

He has to laugh.

Alas. I hope we have some cereal in.

Matt rolled his eyes, but he obeyed. And gave Mohinder a sideways look that basically said that it was his own fault right now if his thoughts were heard, however slightly apologetic. Not that either of them seemed to mind the telepathy at the moment, but Matt had to wonder why the hell his scars were on topic. He didn't like them, personally. Messy reminders of a near death experience.

"You're not thinking in Hindi", he said, like he was reminding him, thumbing slightly at the bandage himself before he let his hand fall so Mohinder wouldn't get the chance to give him a reproachful look about it. The same kind of look he'd given him the first time he'd referred to the language as Indian. "Sorry. I'll try not to."

It was something he'd kept as a rule of thumb when he moved in - to not listen to people's thoughts unless he had to. He obviously couldn't keep that up all the time but he was normally better at it than this, and that probably had to do with the lack of wanting to keep people out of his head during the last few days. He hadn't really closed off yet. He knew that Mohinder often didn't mind, but he still tried to make the effort.

Drumming his fingers against his knee, he added, "Pretty sure we're out unless you want Molly's. They do make veggie pizzas, you know."

"I'll just pick off the meat if you want to get pepperoni." Guess who was about to have to conversations at once? This guy here. Even as he pulled up the bandage, the pad of which was covered in blood, and tilted Matt's head back so that the light from the hanging kitchen fixture could shine on his face, he purposefully directed his thoughts to the telepath about how tiring it was to speak in one language and think in another.

Perhaps in a few hours he might get annoyed by the invasion of privacy, but they'd just survived two near death experiences and that was more than enough to forge a friendship where little things like mind reading could be overlooked.

Just don't hold my thoughts against me. What's the number for the pizza place?

"I think it's saved in my mobile."

Hold still. I need to get the alcohol.

"Before Molly, I wouldn't have thought to keep a first aid kit around the flat."

The varying conversation came easily for Mohinder even as he snatched his phone off of the charger and thumbed through his contact list on the way to the bathroom. It took four rings before it was answered. Just as well. He ordered two large pizzas, one plain and one meat lover's and some fries as well before slipping the phone back into Matt's hand with the number for his mother's home dialed.

Head back. It's going to sting. But he's blow on it to calm it down.

Matt, on the other hand, wasn't quite as adept at multitasking in that manner and wasn't sure what he was expected to respond to or not, so he mostly just let Mohinder's voice fill the air between them as he looked up at him.

He winced the moment the alcohol hit, the "ow" quite obvious in that regard, and leaned instinctively away from the cotton pad in a surprisingly childish move. Fittingly, the way Mohinder's breath ghosted over the injury made him think of children getting their scratches kissed to make them feel better, and he looked at the other man for a moment like he was going to voice something about that except that's when he realized he'd gotten through to India. He gripped the phone tighter, holding a hand up to see if that'd keep Mohinder away from the head wound at least while he was talking. It definitely still stung. Eesh.

Once Molly was put on the line he smiled immediately just at the sound of her voice. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Matt? Aren't you guys asleep?" was the excited, somewhat confused and slightly critical response and Matt shot Mohinder an amused look. Molly was so, so bright.

"Yeah, we're all passed out, smartypants. Are you doing okay?"

She was. She missed them. They missed her too. They'd had these exchanges already and Matt felt so damn happy about finally getting to tell her that she didn't have to hang on, or hold on, or anything for another vaguely unspecified amount of time. It felt great to get to say, "We're taking care of something tomorrow but we're coming to get you right away after that, alright? As soon as we can."

She could tell that he meant it. She was excited and Matt laughed a little at her tone when she started talking about something her and Mohinder's mom had been doing that day, just cause he was happy about it. "I'll let you talk to Mohinder, okay? See if you can get him to stop fussing so much. Love you. Hang on."

He gave the phone to Mohinder with an added, "she's totally taking that elephant home."

Pressing the phone against his shoulder, Mohinder gave Matt a look that was more exaggerated than actual. He couldn't stop smiling, both at the way Matt fought him pathetically off and at the conversation. "If you want to get this infected, by all means, be a child. And if she's bringing it home, you'll either have to give up your bedroom or we'll need a den."

It sounded a little more like flirting than Mohinder intended but he stood by his assessments, dabbing once more at the stitches for good measure before he pulled the phone to his ear.

"Why are you fussing?" the girl demanded almost immediately and Mohinder shot Matt a look and handed over the cotton.

"Matt hurt himself. Nothing terrible, he got a few stitches in his head--"

"Stitches again? In his head? What are you guys doing over there?" Molly was not about to take bullshit so rather than lie, Mohinder decided to talk her a different truth.

"We need to move out of the apartment, Molly. Bit of a slip before we started packing. It's nothing at all to worry about," he promised. "He's being a baby. I wish you were here to hold his hands again like last time."

She giggled, evidently buying it. For now. "Make sure you bring my crayons."

"They're already packed."

"Do I have to change schools again...?"

Mohinder glanced at Matt and thought the question to him. "I don't think so. We're going to try to find a bigger place so Matt doesn't have to sleep on the couch or share a room with you. And the elephant."

If she hadn't been excited already, she certainly was now. It meant that they were staying together. As a family. "I love you, Mohinder!"

"Love you too. Put my mother on would you?"

Hindi filled the house for the next ten minutes, during which Mohinder once again attacked Matt's head wound. He had to make travel arrangements and she forced him to agree to stay for a day or two this time. He figured that was fair. Matt and Molly could go home without him for a few days.

Suppose that's it then, he thought as he hung up. This is officially home.

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?"

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