He waited until Mohinder's back was turned, heading back the way he had come as he paced, and then he was stepping out from his hiding spot. He hesitated for a moment, anger so blinding he was certain he wouldn't be able to unclench his fists long enough to make use of his hands, and then that moment was passing. Oh, he was still angry, but there was a sudden, dangerous calm that came with it, not unlike the day he had pinned Mohinder to the ceiling, the last time the sonovabitch had decided to torture him.
Expression going cold, he didn't bother to greet Mohinder as was generally the first move in their game -- this was no longer a game; this was his life -- instead raising his hand, slowly. His fingers curled, mimicking a none too kind hand on the geneticist's shoulder, and then he was yanking back and down, forcing Mohinder to his back on the ground, viciously. If he broke the poor man's skull under the force of the action, it wasn't his problem; he owed it to Mohinder for his betrayal, and he'd certain appreciate the irony if the son died similarly to the father for the same crime.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-10-16 10:23 am (UTC)Expression going cold, he didn't bother to greet Mohinder as was generally the first move in their game -- this was no longer a game; this was his life -- instead raising his hand, slowly. His fingers curled, mimicking a none too kind hand on the geneticist's shoulder, and then he was yanking back and down, forcing Mohinder to his back on the ground, viciously. If he broke the poor man's skull under the force of the action, it wasn't his problem; he owed it to Mohinder for his betrayal, and he'd certain appreciate the irony if the son died similarly to the father for the same crime.