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for couples_therapy: love / hate
Oct. 25th, 2009 06:52 pmThey're back in New York now, Dale and her ability miles behind them, forgotten. The city feels cold, colder still than Montana as the autumn dies and winter moves to claim its crown, and the apartment only strengthens the chill. It shouldn't, not after Mohinder's turned the heat up high enough to sweat, but it does. He blames the ghosts that linger, this place more than familiar -- if he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine it's Chandra and not Mohinder sitting at the desk across the room. He blames the lies and the betrayal, and he wraps his arms around himself to fight off the shivering shadows that haunt.
As if he can sense his discomfort, Mohinder looks up at him. He tips his head to one side, the frown that follows like poison on his face, and pushes away from the desk to move to him. He touches his fingers to his elbow lightly. "Zane?"
He decides in that instant that he hates that name. There's a weakness inherent in it, flaws that bring him further from being God every time Mohinder uses it. If he'd know that it would bring him down he never would have taken it, but he has no choice now, and he offers Mohinder a thin smile. "I'm fine. I'm just -- I'm freezing."
"I'll turn the heat up." Mohinder turns to move to the thermostat and he darts forward, fingers curling around his wrist to stop him. They both look down at their hands; the both look up and Mohinder frowns a bit more, curious now. He wishes he could tell him what the hell he was thinking. "Zane, what's wrong?"
"I don't know."
Mohinder shifts, tugging his wrist out of his hold, and laces their fingers together slowly. His eyes drift back down to their hands, to the light and the dark, and he closes his eyes with a sigh. He loves this. He hates it. He needs more than anything for this to be real, rather than another lie from another Suresh. He needs to throw Mohinder into the nearest wall and demand that he give him the list. He feels pulled in a hundred different directions, so broken and lost, and he wishes that he never thought of trying to seduce Mohinder. He wishes that Mohinder had gotten them two rooms that night in the hotel, rather than recognizing the connection -- the heat -- between them.
"I need you," falls out of his mouth instead, and inwardly he curses himself. Not that it stops him from opening his mouth again. "I feel like -- like I don't know who I am, anymore. I'm losing my sense of self and I don't know how to stop it. And you're the only thing that feels stable."
Confusion replaces curiosity on Mohinder's face. "Because we helped Dale? I thought you wanted ... "
"I did." Of course, his idea of help varied greatly from Mohinder's. She didn't deserve her abilities; he wanted to take them off her hands for her. Mohinder had stopped him, though; he hadn't let him 'help'. "I just ... "
"Just what?"
He drops his head to Mohinder's shoulder, burying his face in it, and lowers his voice just enough so that he's sure that he won't be heard. "You should be dead. I want you to be dead. This -- all of this -- it's not fair. It's not me. You're ruining the game. You're ruining me." Pausing, he raises his head, resting his head against his, mouth near his ear. "But I can't let you go."
Reaching up, Mohinder threads his fingers through his hair, still bewildered but trying to be soothing. "You won't have to. I promise."
"I know." And that's what bothers him.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 627
Note: Mohinder is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
witnessof_fate and is used with love and permission.
As if he can sense his discomfort, Mohinder looks up at him. He tips his head to one side, the frown that follows like poison on his face, and pushes away from the desk to move to him. He touches his fingers to his elbow lightly. "Zane?"
He decides in that instant that he hates that name. There's a weakness inherent in it, flaws that bring him further from being God every time Mohinder uses it. If he'd know that it would bring him down he never would have taken it, but he has no choice now, and he offers Mohinder a thin smile. "I'm fine. I'm just -- I'm freezing."
"I'll turn the heat up." Mohinder turns to move to the thermostat and he darts forward, fingers curling around his wrist to stop him. They both look down at their hands; the both look up and Mohinder frowns a bit more, curious now. He wishes he could tell him what the hell he was thinking. "Zane, what's wrong?"
"I don't know."
Mohinder shifts, tugging his wrist out of his hold, and laces their fingers together slowly. His eyes drift back down to their hands, to the light and the dark, and he closes his eyes with a sigh. He loves this. He hates it. He needs more than anything for this to be real, rather than another lie from another Suresh. He needs to throw Mohinder into the nearest wall and demand that he give him the list. He feels pulled in a hundred different directions, so broken and lost, and he wishes that he never thought of trying to seduce Mohinder. He wishes that Mohinder had gotten them two rooms that night in the hotel, rather than recognizing the connection -- the heat -- between them.
"I need you," falls out of his mouth instead, and inwardly he curses himself. Not that it stops him from opening his mouth again. "I feel like -- like I don't know who I am, anymore. I'm losing my sense of self and I don't know how to stop it. And you're the only thing that feels stable."
Confusion replaces curiosity on Mohinder's face. "Because we helped Dale? I thought you wanted ... "
"I did." Of course, his idea of help varied greatly from Mohinder's. She didn't deserve her abilities; he wanted to take them off her hands for her. Mohinder had stopped him, though; he hadn't let him 'help'. "I just ... "
"Just what?"
He drops his head to Mohinder's shoulder, burying his face in it, and lowers his voice just enough so that he's sure that he won't be heard. "You should be dead. I want you to be dead. This -- all of this -- it's not fair. It's not me. You're ruining the game. You're ruining me." Pausing, he raises his head, resting his head against his, mouth near his ear. "But I can't let you go."
Reaching up, Mohinder threads his fingers through his hair, still bewildered but trying to be soothing. "You won't have to. I promise."
"I know." And that's what bothers him.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 627
Note: Mohinder is
witnessof_fate and is used with love and permission.
