Thirty First Kisses, #16 – Invincible

Setting: After 2×10, “Truth or Consequences.” This is basically an alternative 2×11.

The bastard is waiting for him when he gets there. Sitting at his desk. Reading his old newspapers. Even wearing his spare pair of glasses. “Welcome home, Dr. Suresh,” he says, spinning around in his chair to smile genially.

A Simple Twist of Fate, Part 4

I awaken with heat and sunlight and an unfamiliar sensation of heaviness. I’m all tangled up and can’t move. Matt. That’s right. He’s here. He’s so close to me. We…

A Simple Twist of Fate, Part 5

When I wake up, he’s gone.

A Simple Twist of Fate, Part 6

When I step outside, Dale’s sitting on the trunk of the car, his back to me and his mind a whirl. I hear the words mother, power, trust. I wonder how close I can get before he notices me. I stay where I am and listen.

And I hear the word murder.

What kind of guy thinks the word murder?

I already know the answer to that question.

A Simple Twist of Fate, Part 7

A shot goes off, burning a bullet into the floor, as Bennet falls. Molly screams.

“Mohinder?” Matt turns.

I have my gun raised and trained on him already. Just in case. Just in case.

Behavioral Therapy, Part 1

Sylar was captured on a winter day when the sidewalks were wet with slush and dirt of the ugliest kind. Elle’s electricity conducted well through the grime, and Sylar was left choking on an icy puddle long enough for Mohinder to administer the sedative. This time the dose of curare was tempered by Haitian pills and there would be no stopping of the IV, no sudden reversal of fortune. This time, Mohinder had thought of everything.

Behavioral Therapy, Part 2

Bob had provided a car for him the next morning. It was a dark-windowed Lincoln town car, sitting like a black lump outside the shabby apartment. The chaffeur never said a word during the two-hour commute to Hartsdale, never once seemed to glance at him in the rear view mirror. He reminded Mohinder a little of the guards at Buckingham Palace, trained not to flinch no matter what was done to distract them. That sort of stoicism impressed him. He was unable to detach himself from his work, unable to contain his curiosity about his subjects. His father had seen that tendency and feared that he would be destroyed by it, but Mohinder preferred to think of it as the key to his humanity. His work was worthwhile because of his personal connection to it. Because in the end, it was humanity, not science, that he truly wanted to serve.

Behavioral Therapy, Part 3

adult content warning

It became a habit.

Behavioral Therapy, Part 4

adult content warning

Shame.

Shame, burning hot and steady in his gut. That’s all he was aware of.

Behavioral Therapy, Part 5

adult content warning

The afternoon was significantly less titillating than the morning.