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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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?"

"Rupees," Mohinder stated with a laugh. "I'll exchange money when we arrive," he promised. "My mother is planning on bringing Molly to meet us. I ought to let he know the flight information--" An email would do. He didn't want to excite Molly too much when they had a plane to catch still.

Halfway to the airport, Mohinder yawned against the back of his hand and by the time they got through security, shoes in a little plastic tub and belongings picked through, all he really wanted to do was sleep. At least they were on a fairly good pace to be able to explore Madrass a little while Matt was still there.

The seats for international flights waiting at the gate were incredibly comfortable and Mohinder sunk low while they were waiting for their flight to be called for boarding. He couldn't stop his head from drifting to Matt's shoulder, though he did try twice. It was cold in the airport and no amount of lattes was going to keep him awake, even when there was less than a half an hour until their flight.

He did try, and try hard, to fight off each and every yawn. Matt's shoulder was warm. Comfortable.

No wonder he'd been so willing to cozy up in bed.

Once again, Matt could feel the exhaustion, but not the willingness to rest. They had been up for a while - but Mohinder was clearly feeling it a lot more than he did, if the way he kept losing focus and drifting towards his shoulder was any indication. Matt didn't do anything about this other than observe with a vague mix of amusement and embarrassment, but when it was time to board he did wake Mohinder rather gently, with a hand to his shoulder and a light shake.

"Hey. Mohinder. Come on, we gotta board. You can sleep more on the plane."

He offered him a hand and they went. The staff were nice enough, the seats were decent, and once they were in them Matt sunk down a bit as well. How long was the flight again? Either way, might as well be uncomfortable.

"Hey, before I lose you again. You should probably give me some bare-bones survival tips. Dos and Don'ts?"

With a window seat, Mohinder had been planning on leaning in that particular direction to spare Matt, and the moment his seatbelt was on, he yawned very softly into his wrist and lifted tired, dark eyes towards the other man. "You're an American, you'll be forgiven," Mohinder said, back in a happy place with a thread of sleepy thoughts running through his mind. "I suppose the largest would be use of your left hand. Don't use it," he said, stretching his arms over his head just to situate his back against the seat. "Not to pass someone anything. It's unclean. Shoes should be removed inside."

There was another huge yawn.

"Ah... Don't touch my mother." It made him grin to think about it. "Or offer her your hand to shake. She's not really that old fashioned, but she's a widow and-- I suppose some things stick with her."

There were others...but Mohinder had gotten away from them long ago. Head touching, pointing--

Perhaps he ought to mention feet but-- Alas, his long eyelashes were already against his cheek.

"Unclean? Really?"

Somewhat incredulous, Matt leant his head in his hand, elbow balancing on the far armrest as he looked back at Mohinder. The yawn was contagious and he had to stifle one of his own, but he paid attention until Mohinder fell asleep. And then he leaned more heavily into his hand and looked around at the other passengers, letting the surrounding thoughts come back to him.

As more and more people were settling down, most of them looking forward to the in-flight movie or a nap, he caught the internal narration of someone reading a cheesy love-slash-crime story and latched onto that one when he turned slightly and looked out the window. Until at some point he started looking at Mohinder. He hadn't really looked at him before, in all honesty, but as he was more or less zoning out with the young woman's voice in his head he found that he was. Just looking.

Until Mohinder eventually did seem to seek him out in his sleep, the way he had the last few days and nights, and Matt allowed him his shoulder. As the tiredness eventually caught up to him as well he leaned his chin on Mohinder's hair and closed his eyes.

Two hours or so before landing, the sound of the food cart being pushed down the aisle made Mohinder stir and he lifted his eyes slightly. Matt was close. Dozing. He could feel the breath catching in his hair and the weight of Matt's head on his own was surprisingly wonderful.

The flight attendant paused at their seat and Mohinder whispered that he'd like a vegetarian meal and water. Matt would take the chicken. Chicken was typically safe. "Cola. Regular." She smiled at him, 'knowingly,' but Mohinder brushed her off. He tended to do that, either not in tune with the thought patterns of others (true), or simply being socially clueless (also true).

Mohinder put a hand just above Matt's knee and shook him gently. Missing a meal when suffering blood loss was never a wise move, and so waking him -- while unfortunate -- was necessary.

Matt? You're going to have dinner in about twenty minutes.

Could a person purr in their thoughts?

Nudge at dreams towards telepaths?

Matt woke easily, with that little yes-I'm-awake-twitch found everywhere in people who didn't expect to be woken. He looked ahead, realized that Mohinder was actually thinking something at him even though he hadn't quite caught what, and in the same moment realized that Mohinder was sort of nestled beneath him.

He moved back and rubbed at his eyes, yawning.

"Sorry, what?" he mumbled into his hand, shooting Mohinder a somewhat disoriented and self-conscious look. Then he frowned at the returning thoughts, a little grouped together, and looked up at the ceiling. Only to regret that and lean forward to look out the window. He didn't recognise the surface below, but that was to be expected.

"I'm not going to have blood loss forever", he said, offhandedly, biting back another yawn. "Where are we?"

"On an airplane," Mohinder said smartly, sitting up and stretching. His back utterly ached and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and go back to sleep-- At least until his stomach protested. Food, then perhaps a bit of a nap before Matt has to go through customs for his little visit. Mohinder doesn't expect anyone to give him a hard time.

Matt Parkman was a good guy, but more than that, he could get people to look the other way from time to time as needed.

"And about two hours from landing. We'll be there shortly," he promised. "If not the blood loss, then you'll need your strength for a Molly-sized tackle," he grinned, setting his hand over Matt's just for a second without quite realising what he was doing. He compensated by pulling down both of their tray tables instead and thinking heavily about stuffed elephants, carry on luggage, and if he'll have to buy another seat for it on the flight back.

It's better than the alternative thoughts in his head, isn't it?

And luckily, those were dashed as soon as he was presented with a meal to tear into!

"No kidding", Matt deadpanned right back, although at the mention of Molly he couldn't stop the smile. It was a very sunny one that was only subdued by the fact that he needed a really good stretch after that awkward position, and he rubbed a bit at his neck when he settled back into his seat.

Mohinder's thoughts were altogether too focused so Matt decided to ignore them and instead out of curiosity searched for the one who'd been reading the story he'd fallen asleep to, but she seemed to have stopped reading. Which was too bad.

The meal wasn't though, and Matt ate it gladly, not having realized how hungry he'd actually been. They hadn't wound up eating too much inbetween the abrupt moving and the plane taking off. A sandwich here or there or a quick bagel along with overpriced coffee hardly counted for food so actually getting to eat something cooked was a nice change of pace.

"So, like ... what's your mother like?"

It was asked after a moment inbetween bites.

Meeting the parents for the first time wasn't likely the topic that Matt had intended for them to get into but alas, Mohinder was fairly excited to speak about his mother. They'd been close, the way that Matt probably wouldn't understand with his own mother worked to the bone after his father left but Mrs. Suresh was still too religious for Mohinder's taste and while they got along well, he always felt a bit like a disappointment.

Still, she didn't begrudge him a thing and when he sent a little girl to stay with her, she'd embraced Molly.

Who knows what Molly's been saying-- The thought was laughable. She'd probably talked his mother's ear off already.

"I think you'll like her, if you can get passed all the questions she'll ask. She's...nosy."

And you have gorgeous eyes. Oh look, peanuts. He needed to check himself, badly.

It was weird - it sort of was like a version of meeting the parents. Except they weren't dating. ... well. But it was still a situation of Matt and Mohinder being a team, and raising a girl together, and there was something about that situation that seemed like it needed some kind of approval when you took the parents into consideration.

Matt's own were out of the picture, of course. And since Chandra was dead it was realy only Mohinder's mom left, but Matt could pick up on the warmth Mohinder spoke of her with and it made him smile a little, too.

"Uh oh." Nosy was such a scary word, but he was joking about it. Although that did beg the question - "Does she know about Molly and me? I mean, what we can do."

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