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He's fairly sure something in him is dying now that Elle's gone, bleeding the last of the light from his soul like an ink wash in reverse. Or maybe it's dead not dying, the last twist of the knife of betrayal too much for an already fragile heart. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he's a walking death sentence--things get too close to him, and they die. Chandra. His mother--his real mother, now that that's been cleared up. Elle. Everything dies, and despite the fact that it's good to be back, to be the one deciding who dies and when, all he wants to do is go home.
Home. Funny how that's a person, these days, rather than a place. Funnier still how they've tried to kill each other, time and again, and neither can manage it. Not really, not for keeps. Neither through willful intent nor a lack of control. One always survives the other, and it's the only comfort--the only truly safe place, safe person--he really has, and so he goes to him. When the lights go down at Pinehearst, and he's sure he's lost the Haitian and Peter, he goes home.
Even if home is slinking in the shadows, these days, chorused by rattling breaths and the shudder of scales, it's still home. It still feels familiar, feels right despite how wrong it really is, and he can't help but smile, not even the sinister red haze Mohinder's Holy Grail is casting the room in able to hide his relief. The first he's felt since those blessed, hungerless hours where time stood still, ticking banished, and he could simply live. Simply be.
And as he spits out their age-old greeting--
"Hello, Mohinder."
--he can't help but wonder how he could have ever forgotten where his heart lives.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 302
Notes: Written for
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