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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"Mohinder", Molly looked at him with a tricksy little smile, "I already told you I want to see where you work!"

Matt was a little amused in turn but mostly listened to them as he ate - actually listened, not mind-listened. He caught Zahra giving him contemplating looks once or twice and that made him kind of uncomfortable given the conversation he'd overheard between her and Mohinder the day prior, and he stopped looking at Mohinder altogether as a result.

It made him want to reconsider spending time with her for the day, but he wouldn't back out on something like that and was curious enough to want to see the temple for himself. He'd just deal with any awkwardness as it came, he told himself. He was good at it. Usually.

And as everyone agreed on an approximate schedule and that they'd have lunch out and that they'd meet back at the Suresh home for dinner and socialization after their respective errands, breakfast was finished.

It was a warm day out and Molly was beyond excited to get to show them her favorite parts of the market, particularly to Matt, since it was all new to him.

While it seemed like an ideal place to focus on Molly and on his own childhood, showing Matt around the market and describing how it had changed over the years was putting entirely too much focus back on the other man.

Rows upon rows of vendors sold all sorts of things from pottery and spices to fine fabrics and gold jewelry. Fortune tellers yelled at them in broken English to get their attention and Molly flitted around trying all of the free samples. Perhaps Mohinder indulged her a little too much but he did buy her a little too much...namely anything she looked remotely interested in.

"Gold to girls in India is sacred," he explained to her, clasping a wide necklace around her neck. "It's considered an investment, a bit like a bank account." When the women at the vendor applauded how fine Molly looked, he couldn't help but grin.

He'd never thought of sharing his culture this way with someone. Molly's nod was solemn. "I'll take good care of it." And she hugged him.

Bags of tea and fresh spice joined the stock pile to bring back to New York, Matt the unfortunate bag carrying victim. It would be time for temple services soon. It probably wasn't too late for Matt to back out and hit the university instead.

Matt was enjoying watching the two of them together. They had such a cute rapport and looked genuinely happy, something he knew he likely did as well just from being around them. Molly was entranced by all the things to see and do in a way that was entirely contagious and Matt was laughing as she dragged the group along to point things out. Even moreso when she took on that particular tone children had when she explained some of the things she'd picked up from Zahra, looking to Mohinder for confirmation and agreement.

"Don't spoil her too much", Matt teased, good-naturedly. But he knew he wouldn't have treated her any differently if their roles were reversed. As it was, he too had fun with all there was to look at and taste, although there was no hiding the mild caution and skepticism that came along with having gone half a lifetime without doing many new things.

India was loud, he decided, in a completely different way from the US. Less controlled, in a way, definitely more chaos, but there was a pattern to it he knew he couldn't see just because he wasn't used to it. All in all not a bad experience. It was great not having to look over your shoulder because it meant you could actually pay real attention to the things around you.

He didn't mind being a packing mule much either. And no, he had no plans on backing out, actually, despite feeling a bit nervous about the outing. It'd probably be better to spend some time away from Mohinder anyway, cause he still hadn't sorted out what the hell was going on or what he wanted to do about it. You didn't have a good perspective if you were too involved, he'd learnt that quickly on the force, even as a street cop. Don't get personal. Everybody knew that one even if most ignored it.

Molly, Mohinder, India. Such an unlikely turn of events.

Those were the things on Matt's mind when they eventually picked a spot for lunch.

The little fried cheese balls in Matt's lunch were not too spicy or too sweet and the meal was therefore a success across the board. They went their separate ways at the university, Mohinder giving the car over to his mother to come and pick them up again after the service. Molly waved furiously to the departing car and Mohinder-- He finally felt as if he could relax. Constantly worrying about what Matt overheard was becoming a nightmare.

It also gave Mohinder a few hours to show Molly off and to get his ducks in a row for a job and, hopefully, extended work visa in New York. Several of his old students bumped into him as well. It made for a particularly lovely afternoon.

At least for Matt's sake, the service at the temple wasn't that bad either, though it was likely boring until it came time to give offerings and Zahra brought him up to the statue of Kannon, one of the deities of peace and love, to lay flowers and fruits at her feet.

It was only after the last sutra was read that she engaged Matt in anything other than pleasantries. "My son is very fond of you."

And an afternoon that Molly enjoyed as well, most likely; she was a smart, observant and curious girl who had many questions to ask and actually listened and made sure she understood the explanations. And in a place like the one where Mohinder worked there were plenty of things to look at and ask about.

On Matt's end of things, he hadn't minded the service too much. Boring in places and strange, absolutely, but an interesting experience and Mohinder's mother hadn't been anywhere near as intrusive as he'd anticipated. Not that he completely counted that one off, but he'd been fairly relaxed for the most part.

Of course, he felt a bit like jumping two feet in the air when she did drop that bomb on him. And what a bomb, too.

"I-I, uh- you think?" he managed after a second's worth of deer-in-the-headlights. He felt a bit like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It was downright bizarre.

"Oh yes. A mother can tell these things," Zahra chuckled, knowing perhaps that Matt was uncomfortable though she clearly didn't care to address those particular feelings at the time. She led Matt out of the temple, large golden statues following them in various positions down the hallway. "And I know you care for him as well."

She didn't intend to let up, not this time, and not at this rate. Her motherly senses were tingling and her child's happiness and safety were certainly things she was interested in.

His engagement to Mira, arranged, had been the wrong move, she knew. They had a lot in common, but Mohinder was a dreamer. He needed someone more stable. Despite homosexuality being frowned upon in India, his mother never minded when he beat around the pronound bush from time to him.

She just liked to vet his potential mates.

"Though he does not believe it to be in the same fashion. Have you spoken about this? Raising a child together will try your relationship at times and you must be on the same page, no matter what that relationship is."

If only he'd had invisibility instead of this mind thing, huh? That would have made escaping from this kind of discussion a lot easier. But Matt was forced to politely follow and listen, in part because he was entirely visible and in part because he ... actually was that polite. And good-natured. He'd always be the good cop.

He was struggling a little with what to say though but Zahra didn't seem to actually expect an answer from him at that little observation. Which was probably a good thing, because Matt wasn't sure how to say yes, I care about your son because we're a team and Molly would break if anything happened to him or yes, I care about your son because despite his fuck-ups he's really not bad at all to be around, or yes, I suddenly care a whole lot that your son wears glasses.

So instead he just kind of swallowed, and listened, and when there was a question, he felt kind of helpless.

"Um", he started, and for a while, that was that. Focus, Parkman. Your power is a mind power. Come on, be smooth. "Maybe not as much as we could have, ma'am", he wound up with, congratulating himeslf on his steady tone. "But we know we're on the same page as far as Molly is concerned."

And that's really the most important thing, is what went unsaid.

She wasn't entirely satisfied by the answer in some respects but she let it go. "What you both are doing for that girl is incredible," she told Matt as they wound their way back to the car. "That you both care for her, deeply, is hardly something that could go unnoticed and though Mohinder only briefly told me of her circumstances, that she is blossoming after such hardship is a commendation to you both."

She lifted the hem of her burnt orange sari to step down from the curb and climbed into the car. Matt wasn't at the end of the conversation, however.

"I have often worried that Mohinder would never see the potential of finding someone that might understand him... He has sold himself short on so many occasions that I did not believe myself to ever be a grandmother. I want you to know that my home is always open to you and yours, Mr. Parkman. In return, I would ask only that you protect Mohinder and that beautiful girl. And be gentle with my son's heart. He means well, but often oversteps himself. Shall we see if they're ready to return home?"

"Thanks", he said quietly, sincerely grateful. He really was appreciative of her praise. It meant a lot that she thought as much. In a way that his and Mohinder's efforts were recognised, yeah, but mostly for the fact that Zahra saw it as something good and could see the positive effects on Molly.

It meant that they were doing the right thing. That was really all that mattered.

It was also clear that she wanted him to do right by her son, and that was a topic that was a little more blurry. Matt nodded, though, listening despite his own embarrassment and slight desire to run away from the topic altogether. He recalled it at Odessa, the way he'd actually wound up telling Mohinder that power or not, he still made a difference. Was that what she meant, selling himself short? It wasn't unlikely.

He hadn't really thought about Mohinder that way, either. But then, new ways to think about the man seemed to be cropping up a bit all over the place today.

Biting the inside of his cheek lightly, he gave her a thoughtful look, but he nodded. What else could he say other than "Yeah, sure"?

The drive back was mostly in silence and Matt found that he was thinking a whole lot more than he really wanted to, but when they arrived at the university and Molly and Mohinder were both waiting for them, he found himself grinning all the same.

"He-heey! How was school?"

That one was for Molly when she practically ran up to them.

"On her way to an advanced degree," Mohinder reported, smiling as well behind his glasses. "She taught a few lectures and charmed her way into some free ice cream."

"Mohinder!" Molly laughed as she took Matt by the hand. Having either of them leave again, for the next few weeks, was going to be difficult. Even if it was only for a little while. "It did make me miss school a little bit though. They don't have arts and crafts at the university though." Allow the girl to chatter away while Mohinder crossed the plaza at a more leisurely pace, eyes on Matt the whole way, at least until he realised he'd been made out again.

Hopefully this wouldn't become a massive problem, though holding all of these feelings in was starting to tear at him.

His own fault and he knew it.

Climbing into the backseat with Molly, they were whisked back home and Mohinder spent the time before dinner trying to pack Molly up and get the things he'd bought safely into his own luggage. At least playing Tetris with tea and spices kept his mind from Matt--

Oh, who was he kidding? Of course it didn't. Not when he could hear Matt talking to Molly across the hall.

That talking was the leadup to some laughs and giggles as Matt teased the girl and deliberately misunderstood some of the things she tried to tell him from having looked around the university. She called him silly a few times and he simply retaliated by calling her smartypants. It was an easy little dialogue, a cute back and forth, with Matt's love and warmth for the girl evident even when he deadpanned at her.

They left Mohinder alone for the most part but after Molly had told him most of what she had on her mind and went to see if Zahra wanted any help with making dinner, Matt found himself leaning on the door frame to the room Mohinder was in and watching him as he finished up packing.

It was when he looked up that Matt colored slightly and lifted his eyes towards the ceiling. Not an eyeroll, but personal exasperation. What had he just been doing? Come on.

He cleared his throat.

"So, probably a stupid question", he said, voice caught between uncertainty and feigned nonchalance. "What's with the glasses, anyway?"

There were any number of stupid questions Matt could ask but he wasn't expecting that. His mind had snapped shut when he noticed the larger man looking in on him and almost knocked his bag clear off the bottom of a bed he hadn't even used. Tonight, perhaps, if Molly would let them, Mohinder would gladly stay here where it was safe and he didn't have to wake up with Matt so deliciously close to him.

A glance over his glasses at the asked question, however, gave him pause. "I hadn't felt like putting in my contacts," he said, eyebrow arching. "After a few days in Odessa having to spit into them to keep them from drying out and sleeping in them so I wouldn't lose them, I thought I'd give my eyes a break from little bits of plastic shoved against them."

Mohinder pulled off his glasses in a move that was unintentionally sexy and turned his massive brown eyes in Matt's direction.

"Better?" Matt was a bit of a multi-coloured blob at the moment, so it was hard to know the answer.

Wow, screw those things, honestly. Mohinder should not be allowed to wear glasses, but should also not be allowed to take them off.

Matt laughed a little and sort of ducked his head. "Nah, I meant more like ... are you near-sighted, or what?" He hadn't figured Mohinder to be the kind with vision problems when he first met him and he'd sort of dismissed the glasses when they made their appearance as reading glasses at first. Usually since they hadn't made many appearances at all. But he had noticed the act of taking in and out contacts after several months of living with Mohinder - he'd just never bothered to ask why before.

"And I guess I'm wondering it's a vanity thing or a practicality thing." A gesture. "Bothering with contacts, I mean."

"I've hyperopia. Ah, long-sighted," Mohinder said, putting his glasses back on to free up his hands and moving to the side of the bed to finish his packing so his arse wasn't shoved out in front of Matt to talk to. That would have been plainly rude in any culture. Long toes press into thick red carpet and combined with the tailored white shirt and tight jeans, he portrayed a sort of hipster, hippie professor. Glasses and all.

Focused now on the problem of fitting a tin of tamarind into his bag, Mohinder still couldn't help but grin at Matt's second question.

Practicality or vanity? Do I come off vain? All the product is to keep my hair from being a bird's nest. His thoughts spun off, but they were all incredibly good-natured.

"I'll go with practicality. No worry about them sliding off of your face when you're reading, getting scratched, or constantly having to wipe them free of smudges. Maintenance is mostly concentrated to just before bed on most occasions."

Matt was not reading his mind. He'd managed this steadily for the last few days and he was going to keep at it. If he'd been listening, he likely would've gotten a smile out of the thoughts, though, and told Mohinder that no, he didn't come off vain what with his tendency to get into trouble all the time.

Which might have been kind of thoughtless, actually. So it was maybe just as well.

He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, a small hum as he considered that. "Yeah, but you're still putting things into your eyes every day." Matt didn't think he'd have managed that, to be honest, so the short of it was that he was pretty happy for having perfect vision. That, and he wouldn't have gotten to be a cop otherwise, anyway.

"I can take a few things with me, if you can't fit them", he added, nodding towards the packing. It wouldn't be a problem - Matt hadn't picked up anything new.

"You honestly can't feel them," Mohinder replied. "Unless you've had them in for too long." The conversation back to an easy sort of pace, Matt's dear in headlights look long faded, Mohinder could feel his shoulders actually relax. It was so easy to be Matt's friend, it was so easy to slip back into the role.

If only he could remember how to be back to the Mohinder that had taken in the poor shot cop, back when his thoughts were pure and he was never put in a situation to want, more than anything, to wake up as he had that very morning, Molly poking at him and Matt's strong arms keeping him safe--

Enough of that, he told himself awkwardly as he tossed Matt the tin.

"Thank God, I wasn't sure if I was going to set off alarms at the airport for smuggling in curry powder and chai."

It could be easy again. Once they settled down, things would go back to normal.

"After dinner, I was going to book return tickets for you and Molly. I'll follow in about week. Is that all right with you?"

"A week?"

Matt had to fight with the notion for a second. Did he really need a whole week to ... but then, this was his home, and Matt could understand the hassle that paperwork meant. He seemed a little troubled still, though, even if he nodded.

"Uh ... sure, yeah. But you'll have to tell her that one yourself."

Molly would no doubt be disappointed, but they both knew it wouldn't be to a degree that'd cross into sadness. She'd been through a lot and was resilient, but she'd miss Mohinder something fierce until he got back.

It'd be strange for Matt too, at this point, to not have him around. But maybe it was for the better, the side of him he'd like to call rational spoke up again. Clear his head a bit. It was probably all the damn proximity that was getting to him.

Mohinder made a face at that, but agreed. Molly seemed to understand when he mentioned staying on a bit here to her at dinner, though she was indeed a little disheartened. "It's only to get my things prepared. Keeping you out of school any longer wouldn't be right. And Matt has to go back to work too."

Cab drivers worked when they wanted to. Or had to. Mohinder hoped that they'd be finished with that a little bit of adventure soon, too. A regular job, working for a reputable company? That was all he wanted.

Molly allowed them all to sleep in heir own beds, which Mohinder did with a little regret. Having had someone next to him for over a week, being alone was a little depressing. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling, steadying his thoughts so he could actually get some sleep.

Sleep, however, was not kind to him.

Though his nightmares did not involved Matt having his head ripped off, Sylar did come back to haunt him. Matt told him that Sylar's thoughts had revolved around causing him pain, that he liked the sounds the Indian made while he was being broken.

His dreams modeled themselves on that twisted fantasy, his mind already over-active and perhaps whatever latent desire he'd had for 'Zane,' constructed a nightmare both horrific and sensual. With Mohinder tied to a chair, Sylar bent over him, lips close to the Indian's mouth. He demanded a kiss, to which Mohinder refused immediately. Sylar gestured and Mohinder's finger was bent back and broken at the knuckle. He cried out and Sylar repeated the request. On the third broken finger, Mohinder finally complied, kissing the mad man passionately as tears rolled down his face.

It was the last dinner at the Suresh house when it came to Molly and Matt, and although Molly looked forward to going home she seemed a bit torn about leaving. She'd taken a liking to Mohinder's mom and the country in general but while she'd miss Mohinder especially she made sure she had all her things without a fuss and later hugged them both aroud the neck and went to sleep.

Matt listened to her for a moment after he said his goodnights to Mohinder and Zahra but she was sleeping peacefully. Everything was quiet, for the most part, and he had no problem falling asleep.

What became a problem was the fact that he was woken from the whimpering, the internal terror, the cry - something he couldn't ignore as it made its way into his own consciousness before it woke him. He assumed it was Molly at first but it didn't take him a long time to zero in on the sound of Mohinder crying.

He was wide awake and lay listening. He didn't look, didn't enter the dream (and he knew it was a dream, they had a particularly distorted sound) - no, he fought with what to do for a while until he heard Sylar's voice, or the dream-version of it, and then he reached out without even thinking, acting instinctively, wanting to get rid of every single piece of the psychopath that were left; reached through the wall that separated the two rooms, mentally touching Mohinder's mind.

Mohinder, wake up. It's just a dream. Come on, wake up, it's not real, he's dead --

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

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

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

It's not real, he's dead.

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

Dream-Matt was just as good as real Matt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matt--

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god.

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

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

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

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

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

Well, with Matt.

Who wasn't looking at him again. Great.

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

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

With his voice.

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

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

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

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