Mohinder waited. Rushing to Matt's side at the forefront of his mind, he knew it might just cause the hard work his detective had put in to go to waste. He waited, instead, with Molly clutching his hand, the girl staring intently at the things he father could do. It was nothing like the little contained ice storms her real dad use to show off with, or how he could make ice cream in her bowl from a little bit of milk and sugar. What Matt was doing was protecting her. Protecting them both. And she knew it.

Eventually, when Matt's body sagged more fully against the car, Mohinder had Molly wait where they had been crouching and rushed as quietly as he could to the other's side. The blood dripping from his nose was wiped at with his sleeve and Mohinder's eyes sparkled with awe, with wonder, with thanks, with love.

No where was the fear that Janice had had from time to time, that even Peter looked at him with. Mohinder was wholly trusting, wholly willing to believe in the goodness of the man behind the power.

When Matt didn't directly focus on him, the smile turned to a somewhat determined frown. "Get in the back seat. Lay down," he commanded with word, not thought. "No more. I'll get us the rest of the way."