Fireworks ch06

So the sixth chapter is up! Enjoy.

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 6

"He has her"

Sylar smiled as he looked again at the yellow letters in the notebook. He did that a couple of times already in the past few minutes. It seemed as if he was having a great time hearing Mohinder complain about Molly’s disappearance. 

‘It’s his…’ Sylar said (finally) making an end to the Indian’s words. 

‘What?’ Mohinder asked quickly with contempt. He couldn’t believe that the killer showed no respect for his feelings, and was obsessed with that little piece of paper. It felt as if he was insulting him.

‘It’s his handwriting, I recognize it…’ Sylar repeated, adding a little more details. 

‘And just what does that has to do with Molly’s disappearance?’ asked Mohinder.

‘He has her. If that’s the case, all we need to do is find him and we find your new little sister…’ explained Sylar a lot more calmly than Mohinder. ‘So now you have a better reason to help me…’

‘Great… just great… First I end up being a taxi driver and then I have to help the bad guy…’ Mohinder complained leaning on his desk.

Sylar ignored (once again) Mohinder’s whining and focused on something different. He took a notebook, different from the one with the sign and turned a couple of white pages. The paper where he opened was blank and was suited just fine for what he was about to do. Sylar’s eyes turned white and misty and his hand automatically took a pen from the desk. He went towards the red couch and sat on it focusing on the paper. 

After a few minutes the drawings were completed. They were simple, black and white sketches which put together made no sense. Sylar smiled looking at one of the pages. His expression changes as his eyes caught a glimpse of something in the picture. 

Sylar looked in Mohinder’s direction trying to find something that should be there. The Indian moved his hands all the time so it was hard to get even a short look at them. Finally his eyes caught a glimpse of the bandage on the Indian’s hand. Somehow it didn’t get his attention before, mostly because of the red gloves Mohinder was wearing until now. 

‘What happened to you?’ he asked with only a little concern in his voice. He was still using his “Zane Taylor” tone when he was around Mohinder but it already started changing and modifying to his original one. It was only because of his habits that he talked that way. 

‘It’s nothing…’ the Indian quickly replied. ‘Just a little scratch…’

‘Well that doesn’t look like just a scratch’ Sylar said with his tone changing again into a bit more of his normal way of speaking. 

‘Anyways, since Molly’s missing maybe we do something about it…’ said Mohinder returning to the primary topic. ‘Except talking about my hand…’ he added a few seconds later.

‘You already phoned Bennet… You said he will help us… so what’s the problem?’ 

‘Well, he just hung up on me… I don’t know if he’ll really come…’

‘Calm down… I’ll make you some tea…’ said Sylar moving from the couch to the kitchen. He infused the water and went back to where Mohinder was sitting. 

‘Don’t you think you should order my trainers first?’ he asked looking at the computer screen. 

Mohinder stared at Sylar in disbelief, but seeing the other man's ignorance he sighed and looked in the same spot Sylar did. He obediently kept his “promise”, how Gabriel called it. Just when he finished typing in the last information two sounds came to his ears. First was the… 

…swish…

 of the infused water and the second one was quiet knocking on the door. Sylar immediately stood up.

“I’ll go get it” he “said” with his fingers. He went towards the door and opened it. Mohinder couldn’t do anything to stop him.

***

The first thing Bennet did after the door opened was pull out a gun. He didn’t even get the chance to point it. The tall, dark haired man, who stood before him reached out with his arm and made the weapon fly a few meter’s further. After that Bennet felt his limbs become stiff. He couldn’t move and he felt like he had no ground under his feet. When he looked down he saw his shoes a few inches above the ground desperately trying to fall down and feel safe again. After that the man felt as if his breath was being greatly decreased as Sylar reached out his arm in front of him crushing Bennet’s throat with his unusual power leaving just enough space so that the air could hardly pass through. He smirked seeing, as his old enemy desperately tried to free himself. He backed out to the room with Bennet levitating without breath in the air, before him. Mohinder gave a protest, but it wasn’t enough to stop Sylar’s actions. 

He pushed Bennet on the couch and at the same moment he heard the heartbeat. 

Thump, thump… 

He didn’t recognize who it belonged to. He heard it from the very beginning. A weak, but always racing heartbeat, somewhere in the lobby. It never came close to him, always staying at a safe distance. Finally it decided to act. He smirked reaching with his hand in the direction of the heartbeat. A second later the person was about to hit the wall behind him. 

‘Stop!’ a loud voice reached Sylar’s ears. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to take the persons power, become invisible, he wanted revenge. But no power came to his hand. It stopped in the middle of the way, slowed down giving the person behind him enough time to...

Bang!

Fireworks ch05

Now up is Fireworks chapter 5. I am actually considering putting this up at ff.net but I'm not really sure. At least for now I'm a bit too lazy. Maybe I will attract some readers from there. It would be nice.

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.” 

Fireworks ch04

Continuation of Fireworks. This is my honest attempt to submit stories regularily :-)

I'm currently listening to REM, Everybody Hurts which really makes me nostalgic. Also as an update I am currently working on a (very) short story - inspired by the Killers' song "Goodbye Travel Well". Unless it turns out to be very bad I will probably post it after the weekend when I will have finished it (if I won't finish it in the next 1 hour. I'm currently at school waiting for my last two lessons of Theory of Knowledge which is a bit of a time waster... So I've got a little time to work on it).

For now please enjoy Fireworks chapter 4.

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 4

The Side Story… ish… 

“Could you answer that, please?”

Knock, knock… 

Quiet knocking broke through the silence in the room. A little dark haired girl went towards the door and opened it. A tall man in glasses was standing at the door looking around.

‘Hello Molly!’ he said gently. ‘Where’s Mohinder?’ he asked not even letting the little girl respond.

‘He’s out…’ Molly answered with her mouth full. As always she was very stiff with talking to the man. But after yesterday she felt a bit more comfortable around him. She remembered how he let her buy some candy (but there was the strict rule of “not eating everything at once”). ‘He left me a message that he’d be back quickly but he hasn’t come back yet…’ she ate the big chocolate chip cookie quickly as though she thought that Bennet could take it away from her. “It’s been 40 minutes already” she added in her thoughts sadly. She woke up as the door from the apartment closed and she had a bad feeling about Mohinder’s sudden “trip”. He usually told her everything at least a couple hours before he did it. 

‘Well this is weird…’ Bennet thought out loud. It was most probable that he just left to see what’s with Sylar, but there still was a weird feeling inside him when he thought of it.. From what Noah heard he was in quite a bad shape when Mohinder found him. But right now, he couldn’t think of anyone except for the one man who made him travel the whole country. ‘Molly…’ he said quietly bending his knees and kneeling carefully. ‘Could you please find one person for me?’ he asked. In his soul he begged for the little girl to say ‘yes’. 

But she didn’t. Molly looked at Bennet’s glasses and shook her head.

‘Mohinder said that I shouldn’t use my powers to find other people like me. That they could be hurt because of that…’

Noah smiled, cursing Mohinder’s “wisdom” in his head. 

‘Well Mohinder was right. But I don’t plan to do anything bad to him… I just want to…’ he whispered something into the little girl’s ear. Her eyes sparkled as she nodded. 

Molly looked at the picture Noah gave her. She pulled an atlas out from one of the bookcases and put it on the table. Bennet looked as she turned the pages with her eyes closed. Finally her hand stopped on one point where she pinned a pin. Bennet smiled with excitement, looking at the point where the metal made a little hole. 

Later

Bennet dialed a number on his cell phone. He didn’t even have to look at the screen and the buttons. 

Beeeep… beeeep… beeeep…

‘Hi!’ a voice answered. 

‘Anything new?’ Bennet asked coldly looking strait ahead at the street.

‘About what…?’ asked the man on the other side.

‘About him…’ Bennet made it strait for him.

‘Oh, right!’ the Indian finally understood. ‘He’s still unconscious. Can you meet me later at his place? It’s in Queens. I hid him there for now. Looks like he’s not going to wake up for now… He’s had several dangerous cuts.’ Mohinder’s voice was a bit stiff with a bit of fear in it, but it was probably caused by the shock of seeing Sylar in his door yesterday. 

‘OK, I’ll be there.’ Noah promised hanging up. ‘Be careful…’ he added when the speaker couldn’t hear him. 

Bennet focused on driving now. 

He stopped the car a few minutes later by a big apartment building. After a short moment he pushed the accelerator again and started moving slowly looking for a place to park the car. He found it after a few rounds and went towards the building. He climbed the stairs and found himself at the roof of the building. Now the hard part started. 

‘Claude?’ he said to the empty space before him. 

Nobody answered. Of course it wasn’t unexpected. Claude was a man whose biggest nightmare was for someone to see him. It was obvious that a simple call from the person who wanted to kill him just a few weeks ago was not going to make him appear. 

Bennet went towards a big and old-looking metal cage. They were mostly filled with pigeons. He touched the cold metal bars of one of them. Something hit him on the head just as he took the tips of his fingers away. He fell to the ground unconscious. 

Claude was looking at both his hands, holding a thin metal pipe and the man he had just took down. 

‘Oh my God…’ he said to himself. The hit was bad. It was strong enough to kill a weak person, but – thank god – Noah was strong enough to survive after it. 

In an act of desperation the Invisible Man tied his old partner to the leg of a cage. And then he waited. 

***

It wasn’t long till Bennet opened his eyes. The first thing he saw made him flinch. A big grayish blue pigeon stood before him looking strait at Bennet with its little golden eyes. The first thing that the tied up man thought was so irrational that for a brief moment he believed it. 

‘You’re not so dangerous now, are you, Mr. Bennet?’ he heard a familiar voice from behind him. 

‘Claude?’ Bennet gave a short sight of relief after making sure that what he thought was not true. 

‘What does the Company want this time…?’ the Invisible Man asked appearing before him. He looked different then when he used to work at the company. His blond hair was a bit more messed up and he had a beard. 

‘The company’s over…’ Bennet answered truthfully not changing the monotone tone of his voice even for a brief moment. ‘Linderman’s dead. I just wanted to…’

‘I won’t fall into that trap, you know that…’ Claude interfered. There was fear in his voice. All he wanted was to disappear from the community, but it seemed that his invisibility wasn’t enough to get what he wanted. 

‘Even if it were a lie, it doesn’t matter! I already quit before the explosion.’ Bennet said peacefully. Staying calm was the best strategy in most situations. 

‘And I should believe that… I wasn’t killed until now thanks to two things: luck and Peter. Although he’s probably the reason why you found me… Even so… It’s a pity he died…’ 

‘Wait… You know about that?’ Bennet tried to move at least slightly, but the ropes were too tight.

‘He told me about him exploding… Guess he didn’t lie after all…’ Claude replied 

‘If you know that you should also know that Linderman’s dead along with the Company’ Bennet tried his best to get the man’s attention.

‘I said I’m not falling for that trick!’ Claude shouted, mostly just trying not to believe his old partner. He already decided not to trust him ever again, even when every cell in his body seemed to say that Bennet’s words were true. 

‘Would you please shut up for a second and listen to me?’ Bennet shouted as Claude once again seemed to ignore his presence. The man closed his mouth a bit surprised with Noah’s sudden anger.

‘Thank you’ said Bennet calming down. Just when his lips formed the first word he felt something in his pocket. 

Buzzzzz… buzzzzz… 

Noah twitched as the phone started ringing. 

‘Could you answer that, please?’ he asked the question so quiet that almost silently. 

‘That’s what you wanted to say?’ asked Claude insulted.

‘No! It’s just that… my phone is ringing and it could be Claire… Or Molly…’ Bennet said with a bit of hope in his voice. He wasn’t the type to just not answer the phone, especially when the caller was somebody he didn’t want to talk with. 

‘Okay…’ Claude gave away the victory. He took the phone out of Noah’s pocket and opened it. ‘Who’s Mohinder?’ he asked pushing the green button and placed the phone near his ear. ‘Hello?’

‘I need your help! You should come immediately! My apartment!’ he heard.

‘He says he needs your help, immediately… And that it’s in his apartment or something like that…’ Claude passed the information on closing the phone and ending the call. ‘One of your buddies I guess?’ he said.

‘He’s a geneticist... It doesn’t matter… I just wanted to…’ Bennet got interrupted again.

‘An Indian guy with curly hair? I think I saw him before… Peter told me about him a bit…’ 

‘I’m sorry…’ Bennet said quietly, giving up any hopes of getting Claude’s attention. 

‘What did you say?’ the Invisible Man asked surprised.

‘I said I’m sorry!’ the man repeated a lot louder, almost screaming. 

Only silence answered.

Fireworks ch03

I have suffered yet another failure in regular posting. For now I am posting the continuation of Fireworks although I have finished Outsiders 2 already but I cant post it until I correct it which make take me some time.

I have connected this blog to my twitter account ( http://twitter.com/PhotoKisser ) although I have yet to find out if it was successful or not. Let's hope so. I'll find out when I post this.

I am also thinking about doing a simple written rpg game software in the near future :-) But as always it's too much plans for too little time. I hope it does work though.

For now however, here is the continuation of Fireworks. Enjoy!

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 3

‘Coffee?’

Mohinder looked blindly at a piece of glass sticking out of the bookcase. He remembered the weak face of Sylar, lying on the couch in the apartment in Queens. Leaving him there could had been a mistake… Especially if he only left a little note saying: “Please stay, Mohinder”. No. It was surely a mistake. But what could he do…? Molly was still weak and making her stay the whole day in the city with Noah wasn't good. And the mess that Sylar made… There was no way he could leave it like that

Knock, knock… 

Mohinder lousily opened the door. He was tired after yesterday and also he just got up, so it was only natural that he couldn’t normally prosper. It was 7 am after all… (Especially when he went to bed at around 3 hours after midnight) A loud ‘crack’ was heard when Mohinder pulled the handle. Or was it just his imagination? But truthfully it was loud for the person standing on the other side. 

The moment Mohinder took a short glimpse of the man standing on the other side was the moment he closed the door. Or tried to. Some weird strength stopped him from doing that, and instead he ended up opening the door even more.

‘Coffee?’ asked a man in a green Starbucks cap. He had dark sunglasses and lots, and lots of band aids on his face. They were mostly Sponge Bob or other cartoon band aids for kids (like “Power Puff Girls”, or “Spider-man”, “Superman" and other heroes band aids). He was holding a cup holder with two light brown cups and also two paper bags with an unknown content. Except for the unusual clothing and accessories, he wore the things he always did: a black coat, black shoes (unfortunately it seemed that he couldn’t find his other shoe so he had black and comfy running shoes) and a broken watch on his wrist. And also the unchanging grin which showed both innocence and evil intentions at the same time didn’t fade. 

‘What on the earth or you doing here…?’ Mohinder asked with fear. Sylar looked very lively (comparing to the half asleep Indian) as if nothing from yesterday had ever happened. 

‘Just bringing coffee… I think I owe you for saving my life. It’s “breakfast blend” and a latte. The first one’s for you’ he added after a short moment of uncomfortable silence. ‘Oh, and this is for Molly…’ he gave a small paper bag to – still surprised – Mohinder. ‘It’s a chocolate chip cookie and chocolate milk… I think you could leave it on the table and add a note. She should find it…’

‘Just what are you planning?’ asked Mohinder with reasonable suspicion. From the grin he could easily tell Sylar had something planned.

‘We’re going on a date…’ the man answered with his grin changing a little. There was more suspicion and mystery in it now that it was a bit wider. 

From Mohinder’s side only silence replied. It grew bigger as the time flew by. 

‘Well… not on a date…’ Sylar finally took on the subject a little further. ‘I guessed you wanted to talk to me… Unless of course you don’t want to…’ he added after Mohinder’s piercing look continued. 

The Indian sighed. There was nothing he could do. What Sylar said was true… He did want to talk to him. Very badly. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. First of all he needed to know why… He caught himself thinking about it. He shouldn’t space out in a time like this. One false step and he could be dead. Molly could be dead. He’d just fail again. 

‘OK… you might be right… We should discuss some things…’ he agreed with huge hesitation. He put the little paper bag on the table and added a note to the little girl, still sleeping peacefully in her bed. 

Sylar at that time took a little trip around the apartment. He looked at the things that changed since he last entered the Indian style home. There were quite a few changes. The desk with a laptop still guarded the same spot as always, even when Chandra Suresh was living there. In the deeper parts of the apartment, however, there was a couch. Probably picked for a long time, so it could match the style of the room. In the end it was a big, dark red couch with three brown cushions in elephants. There was also a thick blanket with the set judging from it’s dark red color exactly the same as the furniture. There were many childish drawings everywhere. Mostly with animals and Mohinder. 

He went towards a door that led to the Indian’s bedroom. Now the room was occupied by a little sick girl and medical equipment. He laid his hand on the cold metal of the handle. He smirked sensing a presence behind him. The person’s heart was racing and his breathing unstable. 

‘I thought you wanted to go on a date, not to pick on little girls’ said Mohinder pointing a gun at Sylar and trying to stop his voice and body from trembling. 

‘You know that won’t work on me…’ Sylar turned around and Mohinder could see that his grin hadn’t change a bit from when he was standing in the door. ‘Don’t worry… I don’t plan on doing anything to the little angel…’ he let go of the handle. ‘Are you ready?’ he added already heading towards the exit.

The Indian nodded. He put the gun away in the drawer and followed Sylar.

15 minutes later

Sylar was swallowing another piece of a bagel with cream cheese. He waited patiently for Mohinder to start his breakfast. They both were sitting silently in the park. 

Now Mohinder had a chance to ask all the questions he wanted. He felt weird tickling inside him as he thought of it. But now that he could, all the words disappeared from his head. All he could do is silently watch the coffee and two sesame bagel’s with cream cheese lying on his laps. 

Sylar seemed to somehow enjoy this situation. He was already finishing his bagel and the latte. He reached towards Mohinder’s second bagel and clamed it not waiting even for the Indian to answer his ‘may I?’ 

‘Why…?’ he heard from his left. The place where Mohinder was sitting. 

‘I’m hungry…’ Sylar answered.

‘Why didn’t you run, or kill me… It’s something you could have easily done…’ Mohinder ignored him. 

‘I could ask you the same question…’ Sylar finally got serious. ‘You had the chance to revenge your father, stop me from killing, and end your misery from the last time you couldn’t kill me… Yet you didn’t take the chance… and now… you just lost your only chance… Why…?’

Mohinder looked strait into Sylar’s brown eyes. It was something that neither of them wanted. The Indian saw all the killer’s victims in his eyes, along with their suffering and pain. All in the eyes of one man. Something a normal person could not live with. The guilt transformed into greed. Yet it seemed that there was more intelligence in the killer’s eyes than in a normal person. He quickly run away from his look.

‘I don’t know…’ Mohinder answered. ‘I just couldn’t pull the trigger…’

‘I'll tell you why then. We’re the same… You and I…’ Sylar said. His eyes glittered.

‘I’m not like you!’ Mohinder opposed. ‘I don’t kill innocent people!’ 

‘We both want something we can’t get…’ Sylar continued. He smirked watching as Mohinder lost his patience.

The Indian stood up placing his untouched bagel and coffee on the bench.

‘I’ve had enough of it!’ he said. ‘I don’t need to sit here waiting for you to stop insulting me! I don’t need any power like you do! And especially I don’t want to kill!’ Mohinder started walking away.

Sylar stood up. 

‘You’re using her…’ he said with a grin on his face. 

Mohinder stopped mortified. He couldn’t move. Even breathing was hard. At first he thought it was Sylar’s doing. But it felt different. It was his own incompetence. Deep down inside he knew that somehow the man was right. 

‘You lost the only one who could give you what you wanted… And then you found out about her… So you used the little girl to get what you wanted… You act like you care… But it’s your own greed.’

‘What do you want…?’ Mohinder asked. He already gave up. He felt like it was the truth. And In some way it was.

‘Before you found me… I saw a man… I want you to help me find him.’ Sylar demanded. ‘Don’t worry… I plan to do it the usual way…’ he said as his grin widened behind Mohinder’s back.

Outsiders

Nick's (Franz Ferdinand) birthday is tomorrow. This one is for him.

Happy birthday Nick! ^____^

Outsiders. My little first-person narration experiment. It will probably see a sequel and a comic by distorted eye if things go well. Based on 2 drawings by the same distorted eye ^___^ Enjoy.

~Photokisser

Drawings:

1) Nick and Alex:

http://Distorted-Eye.deviantart.com/art/Outsiders-Alex-and-Nick-146506812

2) Bob and Paul:

http://Distorted-Eye.deviantart.com/art/Outsiders-Bob-and-Paul-146506889

***

The Archduke Franz Ferdinand Boarding school for Talented Youth. The school I attend, the one place I'd do anything to be in. And also, ironically, the one place I hate the most in the world. It's the kind of school that mostly rich kids attend even if their 'talent' amounts to almost zero. Reputation is all that matters in this place. Reputation and money.

The 'FF' as it's called by us, has the best equipment and staff you can find. Kids can attend here all the way from preschool to college and there's a whole city neighboring it that plays the role of a campus. For those who are actually talented and didn't get in only thanks to their old man having cash and status there are lots of places to work in case they haven't got enough money. Sounds good, but it's not. The pressure from the rich rascals is too much for some to handle.

I have only one good memory of this place. I attended the FF when I was a kid. There were three guys I used to hang out with. We spent a lot of time but then I moved to Germany. I forgot everything about them. I don't know how and I certainly didn't realize when that happened. I know that didn't want to forget, but it just happened in the feverish rush after adapting to the new environment. Now, I have no pictures, no contacts and almost no memories of them. I remember only one situation: our teacher asked us who did we want to become when we grew up. Our - sort of - leader said he had a dream of becoming a mafia boss, another one a zombie and the third one wanted to work in fast food. Ironically, he did come from a rich family.

They were the only reason I came back here. But after ten years it was impossible to find them. Well, maybe it's better this way. Sometimes I get the feeling that something terrible would happen if I came back not remembering and met them without recognizing. I know I would feel – at least – offended by something like that. Probably also betrayed. I suspect that maybe they changed school. I sort of expected it. We weren't exactly the most likable group.

What I didn't expect, however, after my disappointing search was that my boring life in the FF could change so drastically.

Naturally, he was introduced at homeroom. “Mr. Kapranos” was different from the rest. In here people are categorized in 3 groups: the rich-brats, arrogant nerds and the weirdos, the ones that came to the school because they were made to, or had other terrifyingly weird reasons to come here.

The boy who entered the class was neither. He was just better than any other person in the academy. Prouder than those wealthy twats, better than the nerds and the weirdest of us. But more importantly, he had them. So beautiful, perfectly gray, not to small and not to big.

Perfect wings.

Not everyone has them. Wings, the ability and potential to fly, to dream. I myself lack them. I remember my three friends having them as well. That something special that only I could notice. Why, I wonder. Why am I granted this ability of seeing something that I could never have? This cruel fate just makes my life miserable.

“I'm Alex...” the boy introduced himself. His voice lacked emotions. He seemed to be thinking he's too good to introduce himself to a bunch of bugs. He was scary... The teacher pointed out his seat. It was next to some rich bloke who kept the place beside him empty so he could invite and molest some girl when one transfers to our class. Or speaking shortly, Dave, the Perverted. Alex ignored the teacher and picked a different seat. Next to me. Nobody even dared to protest. He gave of an aura of invincibility, like he'd kill you if you even dared to say anything. I glanced at him and for just a second saw him smirk confidently and blink at me.

The teacher felt it would be better to just ignore him for now and continued with the school business. I hid my face in my arms and continued to do what I was doing up until now: lying on the desk and thinking. At the moment it was Alex I was thinking of. I could feel his feathers brushing my arm. Just being around this kind of a person was more than I could comprehend.

I squeezed the pencil in my fingers and moved my arm a little. “Nick. Nice to meet u.” my hand wrote on the table. I didn't look up. I was afraid. I could already see the look of disgust in his eyes. Because of that, and only that I continued to lye until the bell rang. I was never more awake and more aware of what was going on around me than on that lesson. I could feel my back stiffening at the beginning and then hurting me when I was too nervous to relax. As soon as the bell finished ringing I was already outside the classroom not looking back to face my deskmate.

“Nick!' I heard Paul's voice on the corridor and turned around. The two were heading towards me and I was more than certain what will be the subject of our next conversation. Bob and Paul were probably my only mates in the FF. They were friends from when I too attended this school and since that time they were always together. The dark-haired Paul was really rich (but unexpectedly OK) and surprisingly loved burgers, while the other was an artist and his family did his best to help his abilities flourish. The school's art group had the best quality art supplies and frequent meetings with famous artists. Of course, never the ones Bob wanted to meet. That's how it usually is with different possibilities.

Neither Paul nor Bob had wings. What they had was a couple of perfect-gray feathers pointing out of their shoulders. But it was better than nothing. Maybe those feathers could grow into wings one day? was what I often thought when looking at them. It was actually quite possible. They weren't the type of people who I usually spot wings on but they most definitely deserved them.

To be honest, I wasn't really attracted to those two at the beginning. They were just mates I could talk to. Nobody special. Just not to be isolated too much. I grew quite fond of them, especially recently. They seem like air-heads but they are fairly aware of their surroundings.

“Who is that guy?” Paul asked looking around just to make sure nobody was listening to us. I knew there were quite a lot of girls and guys looking at me with an evil glare. Jealousy? Maybe hate? The sensation of their position being endangered? Maybe they thought I could pose a greater threat to them now. “I wonder why he'd sit with you. I mean, I know anybody would switch just to be as far away as possible from that perv, Dave but he didn't even know him. I guess he understands everything about this school from just one look! I wonder what made him even transfer here...” I noticed Paul was glaring at me, expecting something but I couldn't understand what it was.

“Yeah...” I agreed not exactly knowing what I should say. I couldn't tell them about the wings. They wouldn't understand it. Or so I told myself. But then again, I was probably just afraid that I'd even lose those two. And I am tired of having people stolen away from me.

We went to our spot. It's in the part that students were not permitted to go to so there were never many people there. But even there we were spotted. Not by the staff but by Christopher's errand boy.

Christopher, also called the Captain, is like the student council head and probably the most important person around. He was just unlucky enough to pick that kind of nick name. He probably thought it would be cool like West Ham Captain or something of that sort, but it made the exact opposite reaction on me and as I once found out on Bob and Paul too. When we heard his name for the first time we could only think of a fat bearded old man with too little hair and a pipe in his lips. "The Captain" is the exact opposite though. I can't say he's not intelligent. In fact he's quite smart and he himself knows that. And he isn't easy to shut up. While the other guys who thought I'd be afraid of them gave out after a little talk I managed to get them off of me. Christopher on the other hand didn't let words to force him to do something. He also doesn't rely only on his position and also I had to come to a little agreement with him before acquiring my peaceful life.

“Hey Nick” I was greeted coldly by the boy. The moment those words came out of his lips I could feel myself being in the way of Paul's killing intent. Yeah, this guy is Pete. Or Kenz as everybody calls him. He naturally acquired a quite big amount of strength and muscles and now likes using it on any occasion. Paul is one of his victims. I still feel a bit sad when I look at his chipped teeth. “I just came to tell you... Don't think that just because you have a new ally you can just brake off the agreement.”

“What?” I couldn't believe my ears. “He just sat next to me that's all!”

“Yeah right. I saw him scribbling messages to you all the time... He belongs to the Captain.” He hissed the last words with such content and hatred that it was obvious what he meant by those words.

My blood was boiling. I didn't know if it was because of the loathing or my surprise. Whatever the reason was I decided to bring it all out on Kenz. The idiot deserved it.

“Fuck off, you wanker...” I whispered. “As if you'd understand how special he is!” I hit him first in the stomach and afterwards in his cheek. He fell to the ground. He could've worked out for a hundred years for all I know, but he didn't have much experience in fighting. After attending a public school in Germany one is bound to learn how to fight and defend oneself.

“Let's go” I said putting my hands in the pockets of my uniform trousers. I wasn't necessarily trying to act cool as some would think but I was trying to hide my hands from Bob and Paul. I was clenching my fists so tight that my knuckles were probably white. I was so angry I didn't care too much for the lying pawn. Paul and Bob followed me a bit overwhelmed by my sudden outburst. We didn't really talk much after that.

I left them after we got to the students lunch area. I didn't tell them where I was heading even though they were asking. But, I had to check it. The moment I disappeared from their eyesight I ran to the classroom. The door wasn't closed and thank god for that. I slipped in and rested against the door listening if anybody was approaching. I relaxed when there were no footsteps heard. Immediately my face was covered in a blush. I couldn't believe it. Not only did I openly call somebody I never knew special I was more than excited to hear I received a message from him. I never knew that somebody's wings could have such an effect on me.

I found my table at the back of the class. I was lucky to have it there. It was in a place that nobody would pass and accidentally glance at what Alex wrote. That was a message for me and only me. I knew it.

The wood was clear of any writings. There was no message there. And it looked like it was erased with an eraser.

I felt an overwhelming sadness. I wanted to cry. I wanted to know him. Nothing more. Just to be his friend. I could only blame my stupid character for that. The more I wanted to know somebody the harder it got for me. That's why it was so easy with Bob and Paul. I didn't really care that much at the beginning. And I was really thankful it turned out like that.

I rested on the chair and leaned forward. I was tired. I had nothing to do now. There was no point. I rested my head on the table and took a short nap that ended when the bell rang. The bell that announced the end of the lesson. I opened my eyes and looked around, everything seemed blurred to my unadjusted eyes. Before I knew what was going on he was already gone. But I had nice dreams while I was asleep. I didn't remember any of them but I could always feel the sensation of Alex's feathers tickling my arm.

When I woke up I was disappointed to find the seat next to me empty. Bob and Paul were probably on their way to the dormitory too. I slacked off before leaving the class. After everybody had left I checked the desk again. Some part of me wished that Alex left something for me. That idiot Kenz. With my hopes up like that I just couldn't focus...

Our dorms are divided into two parts. The one for the rich kids with everything high class and all, and the one for the less wealthy children. There the rooms were double and there were some other inconveniences compared to the better part but nobody thought of it as a problem too but that wasn't a problem. Unfortunately I wasn't in the same parts as Bob and Paul and so I pretty much ignored most of the crowd walking past my door. Since I was the last one to transfer in a long time to this dorm I had the whole room to myself. Or so I thought.

When I opened the door I found my stuff being tossed around the room mixed with some of his stuff. Yes, Alex was sitting on the bed (my bed) and seemed to have made himself totally comfortable in my room. I won't say it was unexpected, I was quietly hoping I would share my room with him but I did expect him to be in the other part.

I stared at him, at his wings with total reverence.

“Hi” he said. His deep voice was nice to listen to. It was totally different then what I heard in class.

“Hi...” I said quietly hoping to have a conversation with him but afraid to do the first move. Like always.

“I hope you don't mind me staying here” he continued.

“No, not at all!” I tried not to look at him but my eyes were too attracted to him and his wings. I remembered that he too had wings like Alex's that boy I used to spend time with when I was a child.

“Sorry about the trouble I gave you...” he whispered with honest concern. I was amazed. I didn't expect him to be like this. I thought he'd be a though guy but I found him actually showing good manners and true human feelings that I almost didn't receive in this place except for when being around Bob and Paul and some of the nicer teachers.

“Don't worry about it” I don't know if I smiled or not. I didn't know if I should. “They're all just a bunch of idiots... This school is so corrupted, you can rarely find anybody good to spend time with.”

“Bob and Paul seem nice” Alex said as if he tried to stay optimistic.

“Oh, they're OK, great guys, actually” I said. I wondered when he'd had the chance to meet them. And why was he staring at me so intensely, like Paul did not too long ago.

After that none of us said anything. I knew I should've said something more but I just hadn't the courage to do so. We went on to doing our stuff and didn't say anything till night fall. Only once I thought I heard him whisper something about protecting me if anything happens to me because of him. But it was probably just my imagination. I was just expecting too much. When he left the room to do something I found his feather on the floor. That beautiful gray feather. I put it in my wallet. I don't know if feathers alone are visible to other people. And I don't plan on ever getting rid of it. I collect them for some odd reason. They're all tagged in my wallet. Name, date and place. I almost never forgot a person with wings. Except for the boy from my childhood.

The whole next day I felt like I was being watched. And it was not by just one person. I felt glares coming from every direction.

I was 'kidnapped' during the lunch break. A couple of guys surrounded me and led me to a quiet place where it would be impossible for a teacher, or anybody for that matter, to find us. I cursed the school for being so big.

I was surprised to see that even Christopher came to see my humble defeat. Whenever I see him I still feel outraged. All because he too has wings. Not as big and gray as Alex's but certainly they make quite the impression on somebody who sees them.

“I thought I made myself clear when I said you shouldn't get along with Mr. Kapranos” that was all he said.

“You have no idea who this guy is...” I whispered. “He has 'em! They're bigger, better and more beautiful than yours! You don't have the right to lick dust from his shoes...” After that speech I could see Christopher's face filled with anger and confusion. I was blabbering nonsense to anybody who didn't see them. But he didn't say anything. He just nodded to Kenz.

I was beat up to a pulp. I had no chance against ten guys working-out every day. I tried to defend myself but was quickly caught and immobilized. Late, i thought it all stopped for one moment. Later, there was a weird commotion but I was too tired and hurt to see anything. All I wanted was to sleep. But just before I passed out I could swear I saw Alex's shoes. One black, the other white. Wow, that guy really had the style.

I woke up in the same place I fainted. Alex was sitting besides the wall resting his back against it. His wings were as beautiful as always. But they were different. Drops of blood tainted the grey feathers. He himself was beat up too.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!” I shouted quickly. I shrouded as pain filled my entire body.

“Bob and Paul were here too...” he said.

I was angry. I got everybody involved. I didn't want to make any excuses because there were none I could make. I said nothing. He didn't open his lips either. After finally gathering enough strength we crawled to the nearest bathroom. I happily found out that my face was in a worse state than his.

“Why did you come...” I asked. I was angry with him.

“Why shouldn't I? You got into this because of me so I can't stand by and watch you get the beating of your life” was what he said. Yeah, right. As if you'd taint your conscience with my pain. I was a step away from bursting to tears. So weak. He was much better than me. He shouldn't have tainted his wings with blood. Why would he do that?

“You don't get it, do you...” I whispered. “If anything happens to me it's OK. But you... You have them, you can fly, fly higher than anybody I've ever seen... Then why? Why deal with earthly affairs when you have the whole sky to fly around?”

“I could ask you the same thing” Alex said calmly. I looked at him surprised. What did he mean? “Why do you hide them?” he stepped behind me. I stared at his face in the mirror. I felt a tickling sensation on my back. But it wasn't exactly on my back. Then, there was this nice sensation on my back. Like he was stoking it. But he wasn't.

And then, he showed it to me. First the feather. Beautiful gray. I thought it was his but it clearly wasn't. The shape was a bit different, less pointy and more curved. Also the color was a bit whiter than his. Then he pointed at my shoulders. There they were. Wings. How? I don't know. But I had wings. Wings more beautiful than those of Christopher or any other person in the school. They could even compete with Alex's wings.

“I have wings...?” I said with disbelief. The only thing I could think of was how amazing he was. He and my wings. I rested my back against the wall and slid down.

“I guess you didn't lie at that time...” Alex said to my surprise. “When I asked you if in seventeen years you'd still be Nicolas McCarthy..." I glanced up at him blankly. Some distant memory awaken in my head but I couldn't remember it clearly.

He opened the door to the bathroom, next to me and wanted to leave. I grabbed his trousers around the ankle and didn't let go.

“There's been some change...” I said “But we're still Outsiders.”

We stayed that way until the bell finally rang. Me holding his trousers and he leaning on the door probably wondering if he'd ever get out of this bathroom. I was happy. I finally remembered. Us. The Outsiders. Us four. Alex, me, Paul and Bob. At the same time I shivered in fear. What was going to be the punishment for my forgetting? I was afraid to even imagine it. Alex. As gentle and good mannered as he was, was a demonic, winged mafia boss on the inside.

Fireworks ch02

Here's the next part of Fireworks, enjoy!

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 2
‘What do you do with a half-dead man lying on your couch?’

Mohinder pointed his gun at the chest of the man lying before him. It was the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes and once again just when he was about to pull the trigger he lowered the gun. In little breaks between hesitating to shoot he treated his wounds. The cuts weren’t dangerous but the problem was with the big loss of blood. Even so, nothing was as deadly as it looked. The most mysterious thing was that the place where Hiro stabbed him was healed perfectly. No scar, or anything that would say there was a deadly wound in that place.
A little wooden figure hit Mohinder in the head. The impact was big, but it was not enough to make him unconscious. Well it was already the second time, so he was a little bit more prepared for it than when the first hit took place. Sylar’s powers were going crazy, probably because he was still in a half-conscious state. He was freezing everything and making most of the objects fly around, but that still was better than going nuclear or making everything melt. But the worst thing was that every little sound made him scream in pain.
Mohinder looked at the bandaged man, picked up his phone and dialed a number.

Beeeeep… beeeep…

Nobody answered for a long time but the waiting finally repaid.
‘Bennet? He’s here!’ Mohinder almost screamed to the phone. Nobody replied so he went on with the speech. ‘He appeared in my apartment and then…’ the Indian stopped. The person on the other side of the phone was definitely not Noah Bennet. In fact, it probably wasn’t a male at all, guessing from the fact that he still didn’t hear any shouting on the other side of the phone.
‘I think… you got the wrong number…’ a young woman’s voice came out of the phone.
‘I’m terribly sorry, ma’am…’ Mohinder said glad that the lady on the other side could not see his face blush. He pushed the red button on the portable phone about the same time the girl did.
He looked at the screen. Off course… he dialed a ‘4’ instead of ‘5’… He picked the number again checking it twice, no three times so that he didn’t make a mistake. Of course he had to hurry… His hands were shaking from fear and the cold provided by the half-conscious Sylar lying on the couch. He pushed the green button.

Beeeep… beeeep…

He waited for the other side to pick up the phone.

Beeeep… beeeep…

Finally he could here a ‘click’.
‘He’s here!’ Mohinder screamed.
‘Mohinder?’ a familiar voice came from the other side.
‘That man’s here! He’s lying on my couch, half conscious and oh my god… He’s ruining my house completely!’ Mohinder continued to complain although half of what he said was barely understood by Noah Bennet.
‘What do you mean…? He’s in your apartment?’
‘Yes… I’m freezing to death here! I barely dodge all the things he throws at me!’
‘How come you can call me…? Is he conscious?’
‘I already said – half conscious… I think he’s having a dream or something’
‘OK… first of all stay calm…’
‘How do you expect me to stay calm?’ Mohinder shouted.
‘What is your plan…?’
‘I don’t know… I mean… what do you do with a half-dead man, lying on your couch?’
‘First of all… He can’t stay at your apartment…’ Noah started lecturing Mohinder after the information filtered through his mind and sorted up. Now he could at least tell what happened. From what he understood Sylar fainted into Mohinder’s arms (“how romantic” he thought for a brief moment) and Mohinder put him on his couch. After that Mohinder tried to kill him but has failed since he couldn’t pull the trigger he ended up treating his wounds instead of stopping his heart for eternity. ‘Get him somewhere else…’ Noah said a lot more conscious than the panicking geneticist.
‘I think I know a place’ Mohinder seemed to calm down a bit and think normally. ‘Until I call you please stay with Molly… At least till I make things right here, OK?’ he asked holding his father’s notebook in his hand.
‘OK… ‘
‘Thanks’ Mohinder ended the call. He caught a glimpse of the phone screen. “02:47”… Probably most of the call was his useless mumbling. He looked outside the window on the street, carefully analyzing the amount of yellow cars in the traffic before the building.
A minute later he was standing on the street trying to catch a taxi. Finally a familiar yellow cab stopped before him making him step back a bit. He opened the front door of the taxi.
‘Could you please wait here for a moment, I just need to get my friend’ he said leaning on the door. The driver sighed but didn’t say anything.
Mohinder hurried to his apartment. Sylar already destroyed half of his room, but now it wasn’t anything to be concern with.
‘Please forgive me…’ he said hitting the dark-haired man with an elephant figure. Everything stopped. Now the hard part… He “carried” Sylar, or to be more precise dragged him with big trouble next to him. Once he left the building he went towards the yellow cab waiting for him on the street. He pushed Sylar in and put him in a comfortable position on the soft cushion of the taxi. He was happy he thought of dressing the man in a cap hiding half of his face and sunglasses. He also corrected his coat so that his blood-covered clothes were hidden. Of course he couldn’t find the other shoe so he left it the way he found him. After placing Sylar’s body in the cab he went inside trying to look normally. The driver looked at Mohinder with suspicion in his eyes until he saw his face clearly in the mirror.
‘Mohinder?’ he said smiling. ‘How’s it going? You ready to come back to work? I heard you got some problems at home?’
‘Well things aren’t going well… ‘ Mohinder started, cursing his luck for finding a cab with someone he knew from work. Well… The man named John (he had to find a card with his name) didn’t even appear in his memories. It seemed that although he never talked with anyone everybody still knew him.
‘Where to?’ John asked still looking at the mirror.
‘1146 Trenton Place. It’s in Queens…’ Mohinder answered peeking into his father’s notebook.
After about half a minute of silence the driver continued with his questioning.
‘What’s with your friend?’ he asked.
‘He’s just drunk…’ Mohinder answered quickly, happy that he used alcohol to disinfect Sylar’s wounds.
‘What’s his name…?’ the driver didn’t let his friend (well… Mohinder didn’t actually remember his name or anything… It probably could be called a one-sided friendship) slip away with that little answer.
‘Gab…riel…’ Mohinder answered with hesitation. Of course he made that name up. It was the first word he thought of. ‘Gabriel… Gray…’ he added more certain. The surname was in one of the newspaper articles. A woman with that name was found on the floor of her apartment… Next to her was a picture of a bomb painted from the woman’s blood. The name was quite popular so there was no problem in using it.
The driver continued to ask questions and Mohinder continued to answer them and the responses were mostly made up, like “he hurt himself with a piece of glass”, or “he wanted to celebrate his brother’s diploma”, or “I don’t have a girlfriend!”… Well the last one wasn’t really made up… This way the drive to Sylar’s apartment didn’t take to long.
Mohinder got out of the cab and dragged his unconscious “friend” with him to his home. Just before the door to apartment 1B he placed Sylar on the floor just next to the wall and broke into the room. He put Sylar on a couch and went back and forth in the room for a few times. This time he got a new question. Just what do you do with a half-dead man lying on his own couch?