Mohinder nodded a little, unable to summon much in the way of words to reassure Nathan anymore. He was feeling sick again, and the sound of sirens was a welcome one. It meant, if nothing else, they'd let him sleep soon, let this somehow be a bad dream, where none of this had happened, and Sylar hadn't said those things, and Nathan didn't look so lost, and he didn't feel this way.

He leaned a bit into Nathan's hand, as much to stay upright as anything else and listened as the sirens grew closer, even as they started to fade more into the creeping blackness surrounding him.