if someone betrays me, i won't be a victim (rp for witnessof_fate

[heroslayer]

He couldn't quite say what had caused the shift this time, his awareness of what Nathan did becoming less and less absolute as the lines between them blurred, but he could say that it had been both fast and sudden. One minute, Nathan had been on hold with Yagamoto Industries, trying to get in touch with Hiro as Mohinder had suggested, and the next, he was on the floor, the shift of skin and bone already slowing by the time his face connected with the carpet. He'd noted dimly that the change had to be some kind of record -- faster even than when he was in control of whose face he was wearing at any given moment -- and then the thought was gone as he tried to catch his breath.

He'd barely managed to get a handle on himself and the twitchiness that came in the wake of awareness when a voice, distant but still familiar, started yammering from -- somewhere.

Pushing himself up out of the carpet, careful to stifle a groan, his eyes fell to the ground as he searched for the source of the disturbance. It didn't take too long before he noted Nathan's cell phone, slightly worse for the wear from where he'd crumpled on top of it. It took even less time to connect things enough that he could place who, exactly, was shouting at him from the other end of the line and why.

Rage as sharp as the change back had been rose in his chest, choking the breath he'd just gotten back out of him again, and he reached out, fingers curling around the phone viciously. For a brief instant, he considered telling Nakamura that he was back -- hell, maybe he'd go for the whole truth just to put some kind of black mark on Bennet and Parkman's records -- and then he thought better of it. Instead, he simply tightened his grip on the phone, allowing himself a brief moment of satisfaction as it came apart in pieces in his hand.

Uncurling his fingers, he let the remains of the device clatter to the floor unceremoniously, and got to his feet, moving towards the door immediately. He needed to find Mohinder. Someone needed to suffer both for letting Nathan somehow manifest his abilities and for talking the politician into trying to make himself into an weapon of justice. Someone needed to pay for using him again, just as the Petrellis had, and leaving him with no voice to argue the choice. And considering Mohinder had been responsible for at least two of those slights -- a fact which he was keenly aware of now, when he hadn't quite been when he'd first come to -- it was only fair.

That in mind, he let himself into the garden where he could vaguely recall Mohinder telling Nathan he'd be when he got off the phone, and sunk into the shadows along its edges, not wanting to be seen before he could make the other man out in the dying daylight.

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[heroslayer]

"You're not lying." For some reason that hurt. Why couldn't Mohinder just just take the easy way out and release them both from this hell?

Sighing, he shifted, putting his back opposite the wall he'd ground Mohinder into so that he could slide down it. "You might, anyway. Maybe -- I don't know. I'm tired. I just want this to be over, and if I let go -- let you go ... "

He was dimly aware he was back to not making all that much sense, but it was out of exhaustion now rather than anger. He wanted so badly to give up, even if he couldn't destroy him in the process like he wanted to. He was tired of fighting, tired of living in fear of his own demise. Why not just give into it and never have to worry about anything else again? Why not just accept his punishment, no matter how unfair?

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Coming up with coherent arguments was getting more and more difficult, but the shift from anger to exhaustion in Sylar's voice seemed to indicate that maybe he wouldn't have to. Maybe, somehow, he'd managed to survive this, even when he'd been prepared to die. Not that the other man mightn't get set off again, easily, Mohinder thought hazily, closing his eyes and trying to draw in a breath, only managing a shallow one, but at least he was getting oxygen in. That seemed to indicate that maybe his lung wasn't completely punctured, at least.

"It's your body...you've a right to it," he murmured, and that seemed right, at least, even if he didn't want to lose what was left of Nathan, either.

[heroslayer]

He closed his eyes, huffing out a heavy sigh, and muttered, "Wish someone had told them that." A pause, and then, "Goodbye, Mohinder."

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

The goodbye pulled his drifting consciousness back into sharp focus, and he opened his eyes to see him through the gloom of the alley. "Don't..." he started to say, but it hurt on too many levels, physical and emotional, but what if he didn't come back? "Goodbye..." he whispered, even though he didn't want to say it.

[heroslayer]

Resting his elbows against his knees, hoping that would be enough to keep Nathan from taking a swan dive into the ground, he took a deep breath and held it, pinning down one of the other man's memories. It didn't take much effort -- frighteningly little, in fact, when before he'd needed something solid, something he could pull memory from, to get Nathan to return -- and he shuddered. The change took him less than seconds later, the other man filling him out swiftly, painfully, killer gone to politician just as fast as he'd come.

Nathan came to near-immediately, not aware of his surroundings but not unconscious as had been the case time and time again, before. Seems Sylar really was on the losing half of things.

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder watched the change start, then closed his eyes again, too tired and hurting too much to fight it anymore. He was alive, and right now he didn't know if that was a victory or not. He'd have to say something, explain something, and he had no idea anymore what to say. There wasn't much he could say. He was pretty sure he'd hit his head on the wall, knew he had at least one rib broken, probably more. He couldn't move his right arm, and breathing was getting more and more difficult. And he was cold. So very, very cold, starting to shiver, which just hurt like nobody's business, though he tried to hold back the moan.

Maybe they'd both end up gone, after all, just more slowly than Sylar had intended. There was a nice darkness around the edges of his consciousness he wanted desperately to sink into, to get away from the pain, but each breath kept pulling him back.

[heroslayer]

Taking a slow, shuddering breath, Nathan opened his eyes slowly and immediately wished he hadn't.

"Mohinder?" He looked somewhere between horrified and bewildered, scrambling across the alley on his hands and knees over to him. He looked rather undignified -- not that he stopped to think about that. Nor did it quite sink in just yet that he had been the one that had held the proverbial gun to Mohinder's head, his finger on the trigger. "Christ, what -- we need to get you to a hospital."

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Nathan's voice. Even though he'd seen him change, it still hit Mohinder as almost a little surreal through the pain. He kept his eyes closed and contemplated what he'd said. A hospital was probably a very good idea. However, that required moving and remembering where the nearest one was, because god knew Nathan didn't have the slightest idea where he was.

"I don't think I can move." Not without help. His arm was useless to push him up and though he didn't think his legs were hurt, he still couldn't breathe right.

[heroslayer]

"I'll carry you," Nathan answered automatically, reaching to put an arm around his waist gingerly. He didn't want to hurt him, but he needed to get him to his feet, and to do that he needed leverage. "We'll get you inside, and I'll call 911."

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder bit back a whimper at the shift he had to make to accommodate Nathan's arm, but he knew he couldn't stay in the alleyway if he was going to survive. He tried to help with his left arm, as most of the damage seemed to be on the right, but every movement of his torso was hell.

"Not 911," he murmured, a little lightheaded. "108. Don't...don't let Molly see me..." Bad enough after they got him cleaned and patched up, but like this...he couldn't imagine how bad he looked.

[heroslayer]

"Yeah." Truthfully, right now Nathan didn't care who saw them; Mohinder needed help, and he'd do whatever he needed to to make sure that happened. "C'mmon."

Carefully, and possessing a strength he wasn't aware he was capable of, he got to his feet, guiding Mohinder up with him. "Just -- just stay awake, okay?"

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder didn't cry out as they stood, but he did have to fight back a wave of nausea at the pain and almost passed out again, clinging to Nathan with the one hand he had. Standing helped him breathe a little better, at least, though he still couldn't take a deep one.

"Right. Staying awake. I don't...things are broken...ribs, at the least...maybe my shoulder...in case I pass out."

[heroslayer]

"You're not gonna pass out," Nathan ordered, flashing him a small, black look. "You're gonna to stay awake."

That said, he shot a glance skyward, and sighed. He didn't particularly want to risk getting caught flying but he wasn't quite sure where they were and he needed to get Mohinder home fast. Flying seemed the best way to do that. And that in mind, he pulled Mohinder a little closer, carefully, and then pushed up off the ground. "You know which way we came from?"

The question was as much about an answer as it was keeping him talking.

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

That did make Mohinder whimper slightly, because it didn't matter how careful Nathan was, there wasn't any way to hold him close enough to not drop him, and fly, without jostling broken bones and the muscles of his chest or whatever else was injured. The rush of air made him cough again a bit, tasting blood in his mouth like before, and still scared by what that meant, but he managed to nod.

"East. Just a few blocks."

[heroslayer]

"Sorry," he muttered, making a face on Mohinder's behalf. He hadn't meant to hurt him in pulling him close, but there was no other way. He could at least make an effort to make this as short a flight as possible, though, and that in mind he moved them towards Mohinder's home. "I promise this'll be all over in a few minutes."

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder hung on for all he was worth with his good arm, gritting his teeth against the pain and trying not to whimper again. Nathan's words were almost morbidly funny, all things considered. How much could have been over, really, and how quickly? He buried his face in Nathan's neck to try and not make a sound. He finally gestured weakly toward the ground when he glimpsed the house, though that set off another wave of nausea & pain.

"I'm sorry..." For what he couldn't say, fully, but for all of this probably.

[heroslayer]

"It's not you're fault," he assured him, touching them down in the garden. He didn't let Mohinder go right away, however, instead guiding him over to one of the benches carefully, so that he could sit down. "Just -- just stay here a second. I need to grab my phone."

A pause and then firmly, he added, "And don't pass out."

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Sitting helped a little, though really nothing could do much to dull the constant pain at this point except unconsciousness or really good narcotics, Mohinder thought hazily. But he nodded vaguely at Nathan, pulling on the willpower he'd been exercising for a while now to keep himself upright.

"All right. I'll try."

[heroslayer]

Nathan was hesitant to leave despite Mohinder's assurances, half sure that the second he left the room, the Indian would slide out of consciousness and not wake up. He cast a glance over his shoulder, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and then turned back to Mohinder, raising his hands almost defensively. "Just stay awake," he repeated.

Steeling his jaw, he forced himself into action, ducking back into the house and making a bee line for the bedroom, that the last place he could recall his phone being. It wouldn't have taken Sherlock Holmes to notice that his only hope was in pieces on the floor just inside the doorway. "... What the hell?"

He didn't take the time to think on it for very long -- he didn't have the time -- instead moving back out to the living room, snagging the phone off of one of the tables. And clicking it on, he dialed the number Mohinder had given him as he stalked back out to the garden. He could only hope Mohinder was still awake.

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

The moment Nathan wandered away, Mohinder was fairly certain he was going to fall over unconscious. He understood the risks in some distant corner of his mind, but he found it hard to care. The shivering was getting worse, though ever tremble hurt like hell, making him feel like he was going to come apart with the pain. Maybe parts of him had. He had split off into tiny pieces with Sylar's attack, parts of him wanting to die, thinking he deserved to. The goodbye, so final, had left him feeling like there was a hole underneath the sharper pain of his ribs.

It would be so much easier to just slip away, to let the pain pull him under until he couldn't feel any of it anymore. Maybe that would be better for all of them--for him, for Sylar, for whatever was left of Nathan. He didn't know, though, and he struggled to hold on, because maybe they still needed him, maybe there was something he could still do...

He sighed, and it hurt, but it pulled him back to consciousness.

[heroslayer]

"Still with me?" Nathan asked, concern written on his face as he moved to join him. Not that he had time for an answer if there was one or a moment to check on him, someone on the other line picking up just seconds after the phone had started ringing.

He took a moment to pray that whoever it was that was taking his call understood English since they had not answered in it, then once it became apparent that language wasn't going to be an issue, he started rattling off details. They asked him to stay on the line -- typical of emergency calls, he figured -- and so he did, though he tipped the receiver away from his mouth so that he could mumble to Mohinder. "They'll be here soon."

And God, he hoped Mohinder had some kind of explanation for this, because he sure as hell didn't. Not yet, anyway, as it seemed the pieces were drifting back to him in random order when he'd only had blank spots in his memory after one of his black outs, before.

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder mumbled something in the affirmative when Nathan came back, but didn't open his eyes. It seemed like too much effort, and he figured that was enough to let Nathan know he was still alive. Really, that was about all Mohinder could concern himself with at the moment, feeling the rest of the evening's horror starting to drift away from him. What it meant or what it was going to entail, what he'd have to do to make up for it, or say on the other side, he couldn't even think about right now. Too many things were too confusing.

Was Sylar really gone? He didn't know. What was he going to tell Nathan? He didn't know. What was he going to tell his mother? He had no idea. How could he explain his injuries to Molly without terrifying her? No clue.

Vaguely it occurred to him that Sylar healed. That meant Nathan...Nathan, or Sylar's...blood. Blood healed. He could be out of pain and fine in moments, but that would...that would mean more explanations. How did he know it would work? Why did he even think of it? What was he hiding? Nathan would never believe him if he said it was just a hunch. The whole truth would have to come out and he couldn't...didn't know if he could...what could he say that wouldn't destroy him, them, everything? So he kept his mouth shut, not seeing any way out of this for anyone, really, but still trying to find something.

[heroslayer]

As much as Mohinder might have wanted to avoid questions about what had happened exactly while he still could, it seemed Nathan wasn't about to let him have that luxury.

He tilted the phone a bit more away from his head, covering the mouthpiece with his fingers tightly. A moment was spent making sure he couldn't make out the sound of his breathing or those of the house -- if he couldn't hear them, he doubted the man on the other end of the line could -- and then he was sighing. "They're going to want to know what happened. What am I supposed to tell them? Because I don't -- " He stopped short, making a face in spite of himself, and then corrected, "It's hazy. It's coming back, but they're going to want the whole story."

Hell, he wanted the whole story, just to have something to combat the feeling of dread that was starting to sink in as the memory tried to fit into place.

[capableof-both.livejournal.com]

Mohinder was quiet for a long time, contemplating just not answering. Sylar knew when he was lying--some ability he must have picked him. He'd been alert to notice that. If he were able to use that ability even when Nathan's consciousness was dominant...he took a shaky breath which started him coughing again, which was just agony. There was blood on his hand when he pulled it away and he shuddered a bit, knowing that was bad.

Still not looking at Nathan, though, and struggling to stay upright on his own he managed a dark sort of smile. "We can't tell them what really happened. Just...say I was out walking and was attacked by an unknown assailant. I didn't get a good look at him, it was dark. It happens a lot here, in certain parts of the city." He tried to take a shallow breath, to avoid setting off the coughing. "It was Sylar. He was here."

[heroslayer]

"Okay."

Mohinder wasn't lying -- he could just tell that much -- but that answer still didn't feel like the truth. Mostly because he could half-recall being with Mohinder just a few minutes ago, while he couldn't remember the killer being in the picture in the first place. That, coupled with all the new abilities he'd just picked up somehow didn't make him feel much better; if anything it made him feel worse.

Taking a deep breath, he uncovered the phone, cradling it between his shoulder and head, and took a step towards Mohinder, reaching to brush his fingers over his hair, lightly. The motion was as much for his own benefit as it was Mohinder's, as was the fact that he repeated, "It's gonna be okay."

And as if to affirm that, somewhere in the distance, sirens screamed into the twilight.