I continued to correct it yesterday and I actually got a bit drawn into it. Silly, I know but what can I say. I don't remember all that I wrote there and some parts are a bit daft but some are nice. Currently at ch 10 so I'm half way through (yes, it's that long. I was surprised as well). I really love Sylar and Mohinder though. I will have to catch up with the series soon. Stopped watching at the third season.
Currently listening to Radiohead Karma Police <3. Previously was The Killers with Bones and I love that song so much.
Anyways, enjoy the story.
~PhotoKisser
***
Chapter 5
“Let the game begin”
‘A dream…?’ Mohinder said with contempt. ‘You want me to help you find a guy from a dream that you know nothing about…’
‘He’s got a power and I know what he looked like… a bit’ Sylar disagreed quickly. ‘Besides I do all the killing, so in reality you got the easy part!’ he grinned.
‘Explain to me again: why do I have to sit here with you talking about killing someone?’ Mohinder asked making the question sound like a rhetorical one.
‘Because you think I’m right… And I’ll hurt your new little sister if you don’t…’ Sylar answered immediately.
Mohinder gritted his teeth. It was true. For some odd reason the killer knew every inch of Mohinder’s soul; even the parts he himself wasn’t sure about. Molly thought of him as a friend, maybe even a father she lost at such a young age. And he tried to find in her someone who had already died. His sister. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t see the girl as she really was. She wasn’t much older than his sister when she had died, they both had the same disease, and neither of them was more or less pretty than the other. His long hidden loneliness made an exit towards the little girl.
‘You understand, right?’ Sylar put an end to his thoughts.
Mohinder nodded silently with a grim smile on his face.
Riiiiing, riiiiing…
Mohinder’s phone rang and with that well-known sound the whole world returned to him. He took the phone out of the pocket of his light brown jacket. The screen showed the name of the caller. It was Noah Bennet. Mohinder looked in panic at Sylar who was sitting before him on a comfortable straw chair. He had a grin on his face. Just seeing it made everything clear.
‘Hi!’ Mohinder said answering the phone. After a short and uncomfortable talk with Bennet he put the phone back in his pocket. The conversation was full of lies from his side. It wasn’t good but the Indian had no choice. Under the careful look of the killer, Mohinder quietly finished his coffee. Focusing on the cup he didn’t see Sylar’s eyes pointed at him but he could surely feel them. The man sitting in front of him hid the fact quite well. Each time Mohinder took even a glimpse at him, Sylar was either drinking his own coffee or glaring with questioning look at his shoe.
‘Mohinder?’ Sylar asked suddenly. ‘Can I ask you something?’
The Indian looked at him surprised.
‘Can you… buy me new shoes?’ the killer asked quietly, like a little boy asking for a new toy. ‘You know I lost my one shoe from the last pair…’ he added trying his best to convince the Indian at least a little.
Mohinder looked straight ahead with evident shock on his face. Of everything Sylar could ask him, he asked for shoes.
‘What next… a priest robe?’ he asked, still unsure if he heard right.
‘No…’ Sylar answered as if he didn’t hear the little rhetorical accent in Mohinder’s tone. ‘So, what about it?’ he didn’t let Mohinder go with that small answer.
‘Okay…’ the Indian gave up. He already knew that he wouldn’t win this “fight”. Plus, he felt a bit comfortable around that man, especially when they were talking about things other than himself. For some reason, Sylar understood him more than anyone ever before.
Gabriel smirked grimly.
This wasn’t right, Mohinder thought. He was a murderer. He killed his father and lots of other innocent people. But now, from what he understood, Sylar was trying to do something “good”. Well, killing a bad person could be good, but Mohinder wasn’t even sure if Sylar’s next victim was evil. If he was then there would be no problem aside from conscience but if he wasn't then what would happen? Would he be able to stop Sylar?
‘Let’s go,’ he said taking the empty cup and all the other trash he left after eating and leaving the comfortable café into the cold street.
Sylar smirked following him out. Forcing the geneticist on his side wasn’t so hard after all… Plus, he knew how things work. And although Mohinder’s soul was complicated and full of barriers, for him figuring it out was as easy as riding a bike.
‘What now?’ Mohinder asked throwing his trash away.
‘Now…? Now… we go shopping…’Sylar said.
Another shock. Mohinder looked at him with surprise. His eyes sparkled as he walked down the street leaving the Indian behind. He grinned turning around and waving a black credit card in the air.
‘Hey!’ Mohinder shouted already running to get his Visa back. He jumped at his hand but it was already gone. Sylar overwhelmed him in both height and power, so there was no chance in getting the card back on his own. ‘OK… I’m going…’ he gave up and Sylar’s half-innocent grin widened.
Five minutes later
Sylar was looking at a black shirt with red stitches and buttons. He searched for the right size and took it. He did the same with some other T-shirts, pants and blouses. Most of them were black and simple, but even so, Sylar looked very unique in them. In the end, he left first shop with one almost full bag of clothes for three days.
‘Much better,’ he said grinning. He looked as Mohinder took a grim look at his credit card. ‘Now for the shoes…’ he added making the Indian’s anger even bigger.
Mohinder held his feelings inside and simply nodded annoyed with Sylar’s childish acting. But he couldn’t oppose. Each time he tried to defy him his hands moved on their own and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. So he had to play along. Making a scene would only make things worse. When that happened Mohinder felt Sylar’s warm breath on his neck, even though the man was already checking if there’s another shirt that he would want to buy. But the feeling of fear and being controlled didn’t disappear. Especially, when none of them said anything. Talking made him feel comfortable, but it was the opposite with staying silent.
‘Mohinder’ a voice called him interrupting his thoughts.
He looked up to see that he had lost the track of Sylar. He turned around just to see the man looking at him and pointing at the entrance to a shoe store.
Mohinder went back and entered the shop just after Sylar did. After looking through a bunch of shoes they finally found Sylar’s “perfect trainers”. They were black with red shoelaces that could be laced throughout almost the entire shoe. It had eyelets almost in every place on the sides of the trainers. With those the set of his clothes would finally be complete. But unfortunately the size didn’t fit.
Sylar looked with disappointment at the shoes. He grinned insanely. In just a few seconds the shoe was already in the air.
‘Stop that!’ Mohinder shouted with his voice strangled.
Sylar looked at him with contempt and moved his finger a bit. The shoe slowly traveled through the air towards its box, but in the last moment it turned around and hit Mohinder in his stomach. The Indian curled, but picked up the shoe and placed it in the box. He looked at Sylar with pity.
‘There’s always internet you fool…’ he said to himself, knowing that the man would hear him.
Sylar looked at Mohinder with hope in his eyes. The Indian found himself pushed against the wall with just that one look. He sighed knowing that he couldn’t escape now. He put the trainers back on the shelf and exited the shop without looking back at Sylar. The man followed him anyway.
‘So, now what?’ asked Mohinder for the second time this day.
‘We go home…’ Sylar gave the instructions.
They took a taxi to Queens, but Mohinder made the cab stop before the building where the apartment of Chandra Suresh was first. Checking in on Molly was his first priority in that very moment.
Mohinder went upstairs and unlocked the door. He went inside the room seeking any trace off the little girl. She left the empty, Starbucks bag on the table where the computer was, but besides that there was no trace of the little girl. He went into the bedroom – the last hope he got for finding her.
It was empty.
The only unusual thing he found there was a black notebook lying on the bed. He took it and quickly opened. In panic hurried down stairs to find Sylar.
He didn’t have to. The man he was looking for appeared before him just as he was leaving the apartment.
‘Look at this’ Mohinder said passing him the notebook. ‘Are you happy now?’ he asked drawing immediate conclusions. ‘It’s all your planning, right?’
Sylar took the notebook in his hands and turned carefully at the first page. When he first looked he didn’t see anything because of the black pages, but soon he found the yellow ink on the middle of the paper. He grinned widely. The sign on the page said:
“Let the game begin.”
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