*Waves* Hi, y'all! Be forewarned: this is not a happy fic. Go read my MLP stories for happy fics. If you're looking for a good cry, however, you've come to the right place.
Mohinder Suresh sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly, simply so he'd have something to hold on to. He didn't want to get out of the car, and judging by the way Molly hadn't opened her door or even unbuckled yet, she felt the same way.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"All right, Molly. We should probably..."
"I know," she said in a small voice. She wasn't crying. He almost wished she was; the fact that she was trying to brave, doing her best to understand why he would do this, hurt him more than anything else. Tears would be a sort of release, letting out all the pain she was keeping bottled inside. Of course he had done the same thing, refusing to cry, but she needed to see him be strong. He was the dad, he had to be. She was just an eight-year-old girl who was being sent away for her own protection.
"Right," he said softly. "I'll get your suitcase. Do you have your backpack?"
"Yes."
She picked it up and held it tightly to her like it held her most prized possession.
He opened the door. Climbed out of the car. Walked around to the back, opened it, took out her suitcase. He just kept moving, willing his brain to shut off, not wanting to think or feel or remember anything. This was torture.
Molly was waiting for him, backpack slung over one shoulder. She bit her lip but didn't say anything. He took another deep, steadying breath and grabbed her suitcase handle with one hand. He held out his other hand for her, and she grabbed onto it, holding it like it was a lifeline. One more deep breath and they started walking.
Neither of them tried to talk. Pointless chatter would have seemed somehow disrespectful to the gravity of the situation, and neither one of them really wanted to discuss what was going on. Mohinder was still fighting back the pain, and Molly sniffed occasionally. He squeezed her hand ever time she did.
Finally, after what felt like years, they left the parking garage and started walking towards the actual airport. Molly dragged her feet, and he felt tempted to do the same. Anything that they could do to have her somehow miss her flight, to have to come home, to stay with him...
No. He steeled himself as much as he could. Sylar had come into their home and would have hurt Molly if given a chance. She had to be sent somewhere safe. India was the best choice right now. When it was all over, when he could offer her a real home and a normal life, then he would bring her home.
And until then, he would just keep taking deep breaths.
He pushed open the glass door. A few people gave him curious looks, seeing as he was an Indian man holding the hand of a young Caucasian girl, but he didn't care. Let them wonder.
He kept walking until they found the area they were looking for. Mohinder let go of her hand long enough to pull her ticket out of his wallet. In a sort of daze he went through the process of checking her baggage, signing several papers that basically just said she was a minor traveling alone.
Alone. The word hurt.
Finally it was just the two of them standing there, watching people fill the seats around them as they waited to board the plane. Molly was practically crushing his fingers she was holding on so tightly, but he didn't mind. Finally, a voice over the speakers said that the plane would begin boarding in ten minutes. People around them began grabbing their bags, putting away books and laptops, and Molly turned to him with a wild, hurt look in her eyes.
"Do I have to?"
He wanted to scream from the sheer pain that question caused him.
"Yes," he whispered. "You know you do. I can't take care of you... Not right now. You have to go."
"I don't want to," she cried, and for the first time the tears spilled over. Without hesitation he got down on his knees and held her close.
"I know," he whispered. "I know, I know..."
She cried harder, and he practically crushed her to him in an almost-painful embrace.
"I don't... want... to go! I want... to stay... with you!"
"I want you to, also..." he murmured against her hair, rocking back and forth. People were giving him sympathetic looks, and he distinctly heard someone say, "Divorce is so hard on children..."
He felt disgust, but the feeling was squashed immediately as Molly sobbed harder. "I know, Molly. I know, I know..."
"You said," she said fiercely, pushing away to look at him, tears still streaming down her face. "You said you'd never... never leave! Ever!"
He could barely speak past the lump in his throat. "I know, Molly."
"You promised!"
"I know," he whispered, ready to keel over in grief. No man should be put through this.
"You're leaving me here. Why are you leaving me?" She pushed away from him completely, standing there with her fists clenched and her small face streaked with tears.
"I don't want to," he said, his voice cracking. "Molly, you know I'd keep you here with me if I could, but I can't. We can't risk it."
"I don't care," she snapped. And then the anger crumbled away, revealing the hurt little girl inside. "I don't want to go," she whispered brokenly, head hanging. He pulled her close to him again, and she buried her head against his shoulder.
"I don't want you to either," he murmured, rocking back and forth with her. "You know I want you to stay..."
"I'll miss you," she mumbled, her voice muffled. He held her still more tightly.
"I'll miss you, too."
"I love you, Mohinder."
He almost groaned because the pain was too much. He couldn't let his little girl get on that plane; what was he thinking? She was his, she had to stay with him...
"I love you too, Molly."
An Indian woman walked up to them, surreptitiously wiping her eyes. She was wearing a flight attendant uniform, and her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She cleared her throat when she was a few feet away, smiling gently at them. Molly pulled away from Mohinder reluctantly, looking uncertainly at the woman. Mohinder stood.
"I'm Amy," she said sweetly, holding out her hand to Mohinder. He shook it and let go quickly. "I'm one of the flight attendants." She smiled at Molly, who didn't smile back, scrubbing the tears off her face. "You must be Molly."
"Yes, ma'am," she said in a tiny voice. "I'm Molly."
"I'm going to make sure the flight is okay for you, all right?" the woman said, smiling again. Molly grabbed for Mohinder's hand again. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"All right." She sounded so young. How could he do this to her?
And then Amy looked at him. "You're a good father, Dr. Suresh."
He almost smiled at her. At least his lips twitched in an abysmal attempt to do so, but he did manage to choke out a quiet thanks.
"Okay, the plane is boarding in just a minute, and you get to go on first." He voice softened. "Are you ready?"
"Just... one last goodbye?"
"Of course."
The woman took a few steps away, giving them a small amount of privacy, and Molly turned back to Mohinder. "You'll tell Matt goodbye for me, right? Because I said goodbye on the phone, but..."
"Of course," he said.
"And you'll take care of Maya?"
"Yes."
She hugged him again. "I... I guess I have to go now." She hugged him once and started to turn away.
"Wait, Molly, I have something I want to tell you first." He tried to sound happier than he was, more excited about this one little thing than he could ever be. "I put something in your backpack before we left. It's a notebook."
"Do you want me to write in it?" she asked, frowning in confusion. He shook his head.
"No, I did that for you."
"What...?"
"Letters, Molly," he murmured. "From me to you. I've been writing in it since the first day you came home with me." Her face lit up, but then fell again as the voice came over the speakers one more time, saying that all minors traveling alone should board now.
"Bye, Mohinder," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hugged her tightly, then bent down to drop a kiss on the top of her head.
"I promise I'll come get you when it's safe," he whispered, and she nodding, crying again. "Goodbye, Molly."
She sobbed, and practically ran off towards Amy. Mohinder just stood there as the woman took Molly's hand and began walking. The little girl looked back at him one last time, an expression of pure anguish on her face, and he couldn't make himself smile.
Then she rounded a corner and was gone.
In a sort of daze he left the building, walking out to his car. He opened the door, slid into his seat, put the keys into the ignition.
Then laid his head against the steering wheel and cried.