Chapter III: Connecting
"Are you okay?" Maya's eyes were wide: concerned.
Mohinder tore his gaze away from Sylar to look at the woman.
"What's going on?" Mohinder asked.
"You're very important to the company. They had me bring Sylar because he can protect you. It was not my choice," Maya looked warily at the killer.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Sylar said, taking a step toward Mohinder and placing a hand on the doctor's arm. He tensed. Sensing Mohinder's discomfort, Sylar pulled his own hand away. He looked awkwardly around the room before placing his hands in his pockets and staring down at the ground.
"So what is there to eat in this place?" Sylar asked as Maya stepped in and closed the door.
"I ha-haven't had a chance to look yet," Mohinder said, swallowing back his anxiety at being so close to the killer again.
"Mind if I check it out?" Sylar asked.
Mohinder shrugged, and Sylar stepped past him.
"There's a body in the livingroom," Mohinder said, "I believe the man who owns this house died of a heart attack."
"Creepy," Sylar said. Mohinder could hear the smile in his voice.
Mohinder looked at Maya who was distracting herself by taking in the house.
"It is cozy here. But too cold," she said, rubbing her hands over her dark coat to warm her arms.
"I didn't get around to making a fire. I fell asleep on the couch," Mohinder said with an apologetic smile.
"It's okay. I will make one," she said, walking past Mohinder toward the livingroom so she could check out the fireplace. The doctor lingered in the doorway, looking first toward the livingroom, then to the kitchen where Sylar had disappeared. Finally his feet moved of their own accord, and he followed Maya to the fireplace.
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"Dinner fit for a king," Sylar said, setting down three bowls of soup on the coffee table in the livingroom. Maya and Mohinder had moved the body into the utility room, wrapping it in a sheet.
"Thanks," Mohinder said, picking up his bowl without looking at Sylar.
"There's enough food to stay here for a week if we're careful, while we work out how to leave here safely. And there's running water."
"I hope it's not that long," Maya said, glaring slightly as she looked at Sylar.
The killer grinned and sat down on the couch beside Mohinder, pulling his own bowl into his lap and lifting the spoon into his left hand.
"I hope he's not out there right now, taking another life," Mohinder said, trying to shift the bowl in his lap without using his left hand.
"Would you put a bullet in his brain if he was?" Sylar asked, looking at the doctor.
"I don't know what I'd do."
Mohinder subtly tried to shift on the couch so that his leg wasn't touching Sylar's, and accidentally knocked over his bowl. Its contents didn't even reach the floor as Sylar telekinetically flipped it all over, bringing it to rest again on the coffee table.
"Careful there, we're a bit low on supplies remember," Sylar said.
He set his own bowl on the table next to Mohinder's when he saw the bandage wrapped around Mohinder's hand.
"What happened?" Sylar asked. Maya looked too, concern in her eyes.
"I fell." Mohinder felt stupid saying it.
"Let me see." Sylar gave Mohinder no time to respond as he gripped his arm firmly, but gently.
"It's nothing," Mohinder said, swallowing uncomfortably as Sylar unwrapped his hand.
Sylar hissed in sympathy, "ouch. Someone did a good job of tending to that, but it still looks painful."
"It's alright," Mohinder said, trying to pull his hand away from Sylar's, but the other man would not let go.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Sylar insisted, looking Mohinder in the eye, "it's okay."
Mohinder focused on steadying his breathing as Sylar turned his attention back to the wounded hand. Sylar traced a thumb softly over the cut, catching Mohinder's wrist when he jerked his hand back in pain.
"Sylar," Maya said, her voice a warning.
"It's okay," Sylar repeated. All three watched as Mohinder's hand began to heal, the skin knitting back together before their eyes.
"You stole another power," Mohinder said, eyes wide as he looked up at Sylar.
"I've stolen many powers, Mohinder."
The doctor finally pulled his hand free of Sylar's grasp, looking at the palm which now showed no sign of its unfortunate contact with the rock.
"Good as new," Sylar said, picking up his soup again and eating happily. Mohinder moved to the far side of the couch before retrieving his bowl and eating as fast as he could.
"Are you late for something?" Sylar asked with a grin.
"Sylar, that's enough," Maya said.
Sylar's gaze turned dangerous as he looked at her.
"Sylar," Maya repeated.
He held her gaze for a moment, before shrugging and looking down at his own bowl. Maya relaxed her shoulders, and smiled warmly at Mohinder.
Mohinder finished his soup, set the bowl on the table, and leaned back into the couch to stare thoughtfully at the crackling fireplace. He was tired again, and felt strange, like he hadn't eaten in a few days, or hadn't slept in a long time. There was a weakness settling into him that had nothing to do with the exhaustion of running through the snow, or the fear of seeing Sylar. Something had happened to him.
"Are you alright?"
Mohinder jumped slightly, turning to Sylar.
"What?"
"You look a little sick."
"Should I get a cool rag?" Maya asked.
"No, I'm alright," Mohinder said, "I think I'm just going to take a shower and head to bed."
"I found some banana bread in the fridge. It's still good. Did you want to stay and have dessert?" Sylar raised an eyebrow, imploring Mohinder to stay with them.
"No. I need to rest," Mohinder said.
"We will talk about leaving tomorrow when you feel better," Maya said.
Mohinder nodded slightly, got up, and walked to the bathroom. He peeled his clothes off and stepped into the shower, feeling the soothing warm water wash over him. His curls hung limply about his face as he stood directly under the spout, facing toward the drain. He was rinsing away every emotion and worry from the past few days, letting them slide down the drain in swirls with the water. It felt incredibly refreshing. His mind became a haze of random thoughts as he breathed evenly, eyes closed.
After the shower he dressed, and helped himself to some of the homeowner's mouthwash. Feeling marginally better, Mohinder went to bed in the house's main bedroom, curling up comfortably under the covers. Moonlight flooded the walls, washing the room in a beautiful glow. Mohinder drifted off easily into a dreamless sleep.
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"We're low on firewood," Maya said.
Mohinder looked at the wood-box beside the fire. There was one log left.
"Is there some in the boxes in the storage area?" he asked.
He hadn't bothered to venture outside in the three days they had been there. Maya often went on walks around the house to stretch her legs. She had a hard time being around Sylar for very long. Mohinder and Sylar had settled into a pattern with one another that involved little need to communicate between them. The doctor felt much more comfortable this way. He often spotted Sylar watching him from across the room, but he tried for the most part to ignore him. They had been updating Bob daily with their situation. Mohinder didn't feel it was safe to leave the protection of the snow-less house. Maya and Sylar refused to leave Mohinder, therefore, all three were forced to accommodate one another while Bob tried to help them work out what to do. At the moment Bob was trying to get in touch with Hiro in the hopes that they could be teleported safely away from there, but so far they'd been unable to find him. It had been rumored he'd gone on an historic time traveling adventure, checking out important events first-hand from each century. Mohinder wished, for their sake, that Hiro would check in once in awhile.
"There is kindling mostly. There is enough of it to burn, but it does not burn as well or as long as the logs," she said.
"I'll go get some," Sylar offered. He was standing behind Mohinder, and the geneticist blinked when Sylar put a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner.
"We don't want to freeze out here; kind of defeats the purpose of our little rescue mission," Sylar said with a smile.
His hand lingered on Mohinder's shoulder, and the doctor's gaze trailed from the long white fingers, up Sylar's arm, until he was looking him in the eyes. He didn't pull away. Whether it was surprise or something else, he couldn't be certain.
"Be careful," Mohinder said.
Something softened noticeably in Sylar's features, and he removed his hand from Mohinder's shoulder, using it to rub his own neck in a nervous gesture.
"I've got telekinesis, I don't even have to step on the snow," he said. He turned and left quickly. Mohinder leaned back in his chair, thankful that Maya did not have a mind-reading ability as he stared awkwardly at the floor..
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Sylar felt a swooping sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with how fast he was descending the stairs. His mind kept trailing back to that warm shoulder, those dark eyes, the caring in Mohinder's voice. He wanted to scream, to attack, to consume Mohinder. Every moment he touched him he felt that electric energy that made him want to take Mohinder apart, and repair him so that he would bend to Sylar's will. At the same time that spark of anger in Mohinder's eyes, the fear of what Sylar was, and the memories of their violent past together all served to make the killer desire Mohinder more.
Sylar walked to the edge of the grass, kicking vaguely at a pile of snow as he looked at the trees. There was a large Maple tree, and Sylar smiled as he imagined the snap of the thick sap in the fireplace, the burning wood filling the house with a warm and sweet scent. He raised his hand to focus his ability on felling the tree; he paused when he picked up the sound of boots in the snow. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't noticed the slow breathing of sleeping wolves, the steady rasp of the stranger's lungs, or the calm beating of his heart.
"You're the Snowman," Sylar said, lowering his hand as the man came toward him, stopping just inches from the tree.
"Yes. And you have abilities. The lady too. You've both come to protect him."
"Perhaps. Why? Does he need protecting?"
"It'd be best for all of you if you just let me take him. There's no way he can wait out the winter. That generator can only go for so long, and then your little safety zone won't be so secure anymore."
"And you'll be here to swoop in and claim him?"
"I will be here to take his life-force like I have done to so many others over the years. Even now he can feel it. I'd already started when he got away. It's just a matter of time before I can finish the job."
"Why don't you just take my life right this instant if that's all you're after?" Sylar asked.
"Because your soul is tainted with too much hatred. It is not good, not pure like his."
"He's not perfect," Sylar said, raising a curious eyebrow, "I'd hardly say he's a pure soul."
"He is a good soul, I've seen it. And his life-force is all the stronger for it. He'd sacrifice himself for others. That's about as pure as it gets."
"I'm amazed that you manage to find so many pure souls year after year. You've been around a long time."
"Some years aren't as good as others. There's a lot of greed and anger in the world. I occasionally have to settle for a lower standard, and believe me, I suffer for it. Your friend is a breath of fresh air. His life will do a lot of good for the winter around here. I'm part of nature here, if my gift suffers, then life for everyone around here suffers. The snow is important."
"Do you ever regret taking all these lives?"
"Every single day. I hold no false hope. My fate is hell, of that I can be assured."
"I suppose you and I are on the same path there," Sylar said, "I'm sorry I don't have more time to chat, but it's getting cold out here and I have to make dinner soon."
He raised his finger again and started to cut down the tree. The Snowman smiled, and Sylar gasped as he felt his strength disappear for a moment. The Snowman was consuming his power, blocking him from using his ability. Sylar stumbled back several steps, visibly frightened.
"Give him over to me, and you get to leave with your abilities. I've had my gift for a long, long time, and I will have no problem taking every last one of your powers away. All those lives you took will have been in vain."
"No," Sylar said, shaking his head, "it was supposed to be the other way around. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
He held out his hand, bringing forth the nuclear energy, and throwing it at the stranger. The Snowman didn't even flinch as he absorbed the power, the red energy ball exploding around him.
"I fear you're only making me stronger," the Snowman said.
"You can't have him," Sylar said, fear and anger causing his voice to shake.
"It's only a matter of time," the Snowman repeated.
Sylar backed away, keeping the man in sight as he fumbled to the stairs. When he'd reached them he turned and bolted up to the door, turned the knob, and ran inside. He closed the door with a thud, then leaned against it, chest heaving. Footsteps sounded from the livingroom, down the hall, and Mohinder came into view, looking anxious.
"Sylar, are you alright? What happened?"
"Nothing happened. I'll get the wood later," Sylar said, "we'll have to use kindling for now."
"He's out there, isn't he?" Mohinder's gaze darted to the door.
Sylar ignored him, brushing past Mohinder as he walked toward the livingroom.
Sylar? Sylar!" Mohinder grabbed Sylar's arm and forced him to stop. Sylar's heart fluttered at the contact. He looked down at the floor, concentration all his attention on Mohinder's bare feet.
"What did he do to you?" Mohinder asked, his voice tender.
"He offered me my life," Sylar said plainly. He forced himself to look Mohinder in the eye.
"In exchange for mine?"
Sylar nodded.
"Perhaps you ought to consider his offer," Mohinder said, releasing Sylar's arm.
"Perhaps."
"I'm serious, Sylar. We can't stay here much longer. We don't have the supplies. And if he's preventing you from even getting firewood, we don't have a chance."
"Listen to me," Sylar put a hand on either side of Mohinder's head, and held his gaze, "I'm not letting him take you."
Maya came into the hall in that moment, stopping short when she spotted the intimate position being held by the two men. Sylar quickly dropped his hands, and Mohinder looked away.
"You did not get the wood?" Maya asked, her voice was suspicious.
"No I didn't," Sylar said. He glared at Maya.
"What is going on between you two?" she asked.
"Nothing is going on," Sylar said. He watched as Mohinder brushed past him and Maya, heading toward the bathroom.
"I'm going to shower," Mohinder called back, sounding embarrassed.
Maya crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed at Sylar.
"What are you planning?" she asked.
Sylar rolled his eyes. He walked toward the livingroom, but Maya blocked his way.
"We are here to help him. It is our job to protect doctor Suresh. If you hurt him I'll..."
"You'll what? Cry at me? I can cut your head off in an instant Maya. I don't care how much you've trained with your power, if I wanted to do something, there's nothing that could stop me."
Maya's eyes got wide, and her arms fell to her sides in a fighting stance. Sylar sighed in exasperation.
"I'm not going to kill you. There's no point."
"I'll never understand why the company did not dispose of you," Maya said bitterly.
"I'm an asset," Sylar smiled, "I can do more for them than you ever could."
"You're a monster!"
"Yes, I'm that too."
Maya was growing angrier by the moment, and Sylar suddenly realized why he was egging her on. She could cause him a lot of hurt, but if he played this out right...
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Mohinder opened the bathroom door and jumped when he saw Sylar standing before him.
"Sylar, what..."
Sylar's gaze took in everything about Mohinder, from his wet curls, to his bare feet, and his white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He heard Mohinder's heart beating fast in his chest.
"Where's Maya?" Mohinder asked, looking over Sylar's shoulder into the empty house.
"I pissed her off, so she went for a walk," Sylar said, "we don't have much time."
"What do you..."
Mohinder was cut off as Sylar grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the doorway, before pressing him firmly into the hallway wall.
"Sylar?" Mohinder was alarmed.
He tried to push Sylar back, but the taller man easily pinned Mohinder's arms beside him on the wall.
"Shh, it's okay," Sylar leaned forward to whisper in Mohinder's ear.
"Sylar, d-don't," Mohinder stuttered as Sylar slowly began to kiss along his jaw, "please."
"I won't hurt you," Sylar whispered between kisses.
Sylar leaned forward to press himself flush against Mohinder, claiming the shorter man's mouth with his. Mohinder moaned lightly from the back of his throat, before suddenly pressing back with his tongue, tasting Sylar's mouth, delighting in the sensation of Sylar's tongue exploring his. Sylar pulled back from the kiss after lightly biting down on Mohinder's lower lip. Mohinder leaned forward as far as his position would allow and covered Sylar's lips with his own, the second kiss lasting until both men were starved for oxygen, and Sylar pulled back, gasping and smiling. Mohinder's mouth hung slightly open as his gaze followed Sylar, his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. Sylar took a step back, quickly removing his shirt and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Mohinder fumbled with his buttons, managing to undo two of them before Sylar stepped forward to pin him to the wall again. Sylar's hardness was pressing against Mohinder's thigh through both of their jeans. He trailed kisses down Mohinder's jaw, his neck; leaned down to bite lightly at his shoulder.
Mohinder ran his fingers through Sylar's hair, gasping slightly when teeth met his flesh. Sylar trailed back up until he reached Mohinder's left ear, catching the doctor's ear-lobe in his teeth, and nibbling delicately. Mohinder closed his eyes as Sylar licked around his ear, the sensation making him incredibly hard. Mohinder's right hand trailed down to unzip his own pants, and Sylar pushed the hand back against the wall with telekinesis. Sylar then used his left hand to unbutton Mohinder's pants, snaking in past Mohinder's underwear, wrapping long fingers around his cock, and massaging; gently at first, then slowly building up speed. Mohinder leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes fluttering at the intense pleasure of the sensation.
"Mmng," Mohinder couldn't formulate a whole word as Sylar concentrated on the rest of his body, running telekinetic fingers up Mohinder's thighs, slowly down his stomach to his pelvis, entering him gently from behind. Mohinder bucked forward in surprise, causing Sylar to groan at the contact with his own hardness.
"Turn around," Sylar whispered. He released the hold on Mohinder's right hand, and the doctor turned slowly, placing his left hand flat against the wall near his head, and leaning his right temple against it as Sylar removed both sets of jeans and underwear telekinetically. He continued to massage Mohinder as he slowly pressed his own cock forward into the doctor. Mohinder gasped, tensing against the invasion and closing his eyes.
"Relax," Sylar said, kissing Mohinder's left ear as he continued to push into him. Mohinder forced himself to breath, and un-tense his muscles. Sylar leaned fully into him, then pulled back, pulling Mohinder's waist back with his right hand so the shorter man wouldn't be crushed uncomfortably into the wall. He thrust forward gently, and heard Mohinder clench his teeth at the pressure. Sylar finally managed to get a rhythm going, listening intently to Mohinder's heartbeat as he thrust into him again, and again, and again. Mohinder moaned as he felt the stimulation of his prostate. He panted as Sylar continued to stroke him, the long fingers gliding over his cock, warm and welcome.
Sylar thrust in harder still, sensing when Mohinder was comfortable enough to do so. He felt the shorter's man's body beginning to tremble, and he picked up the pace of his thrusts, and the strokes of his left hand. Flesh met flesh over and over as both men connected. Mohinder came suddenly, his mouth open and gasping. His body shuddered under Sylar's, and the taller man came too, pushing as far inside Mohinder as he dared. Sylar wrapped his arms around Mohinder, pulling the shorter man flush with his chest. Mohinder shivered, his body still jolting from the orgasm.
"I love you," Sylar mumbled into Mohinder's ear. He heard Mohinder's heart flutter, and felt his body tense slightly at these words. After a moment of just holding Mohinder against him, feeling their breath rise and fall together, Sylar stepped back slowly.
"Time to get dressed," Sylar said. Mohinder was silent as he pulled up his jeans, and buttoned them. Sylar did the same, before picking up his shirt and pulling it over his head. He reached out a hand to touch Mohinder, whose back was turned to him, but stopped, letting his arm fall to his side.
"Are you okay?" Sylar asked.
"Yes," Mohinder said, turning to look him in the eye, "surprisingly, yes."
Mohinder's fingers trembled as he finished buttoning his shirt, and he smiled as he pushed back a stray curl from in front of his eyes.
"I'll clean up," Sylar said.
Mohinder nodded and left the hall, walking to the master bedroom and closing the door behind him. Sylar watched him go, then looked at the wall. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingertips over the spot that Mohinder had pressed his hand against. It was still warm.
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Mohinder could barely contain himself during dinner. He felt dirty whenever he managed to make eye contact with Maya. And he felt like dragging Sylar into the bedroom and ripping off his clothes whenever their eyes met. It was hell, sitting there silently, forcing himself to eat his bowl of macaroni from a box. He wondered if he'd gotten brain damage from wandering so long in the snow. The man he'd hated with a passion from the moment he'd learned about his father's death now sat across from him, poking lazily at the noodles in his bowl, and Mohinder was finding it next to impossible to loathe or fear him in that moment.
"I think you should leave, Maya."
Mohinder and Maya both looked at Sylar in surprise. The comment was the first to break the silence all dinner.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"You should go. I don't think the Snowman will touch you. If you leave we'll have a longer supply of food. You won't be in danger. There's no point in all of us dying," Sylar said, not looking up from his bowl.
"I was instructed to take care of doctor Suresh, and to keep an eye on you," Maya said, the hurt evident in her voice.
"You have. I haven't killed him yet have I? I'm not going to either," Sylar said.
"Maybe now isn't the time..." Mohinder started.
"Now is the perfect time. The sooner she leaves, the faster she can bring back help, or food."
Sylar looked Mohinder in the eye.
"But she shouldn't leave at night," Mohinder pointed out.
"No, doctor, he's right," Maya said angrily, standing, "I'm not helping anyone here."
Mohinder set his bowl on the coffee table, and stood to reason with Maya.
"It's okay, you don't have to go," he said.
Sylar sat back in his chair, looking at both of them.
"Let her go Mohinder, it's better off for all of us."
"Sylar, please, it's not safe out there."
"He won't take her. She's killed too many, and there were times when she meant to. He'll want no part of that," Sylar insisted.
Maya's bottom lip quivered, and she nodded in agitation.
"Good luck, Mohinder," she said.
She turned and rushed to the front door, snatching her coat off its hangar in the hall closet as she went. Mohinder frowned at Sylar, and made to follow Maya, but got no further than the edge of the livingroom before the telekinetic force held him back.
"Sylar, what are you doing? It's not safe for her out there," Mohinder said.
"She'll be fine, I promise," Sylar said.
Mohinder heard the door slam, and he sighed as he turned to Sylar.
"Looking for an excuse to get me on my own?" Mohinder asked.
"Something like that," Sylar said, but Mohinder noticed that his smile seemed rather forced.
"Sylar, what's wrong?" Mohinder asked.
"Everything's wonderful, Mohinder," Sylar said, setting his bowl down, standing, and walking around the coffee table to wrap his arms around Mohinder. Mohinder searched Sylar's eyes for the truth, but he couldn't find it.
"Please tell me," he begged.
Sylar only grinned and shook his head. He grabbed Mohinder's left hand and pulled him to the master bedroom. Sylar pushed Mohinder onto the bed. In the splash of moonlight from the window, Mohinder could make out Sylar's features. He was licking his lips nervously, eagerly. The rest of his body was in control, aware, excited. But Mohinder noticed his eyes were wary. He didn't have much time to analyze as Sylar pinned him down to the bed, his feet still touching the floor as his back was pressed to the comforter. Sylar lay over him, one leg in between Mohinder's, the other supporting his weight on the bed beside Mohinder's right thigh. Sylar grabbed Mohinder's hands in his, lacing their fingers together. He brought Mohinder's hands up level with his curly locks, and paused to look Mohinder in the eye.
"I love you," Sylar said for the second time that day. Mohinder also licked his lips nervously.
"I love you too."
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Hours later Sylar lay, staring up at the ceiling. The back of his hand gently grazed up and down Mohinder's back as the doctor slept soundly on his stomach. Sylar had heard the generators finally die as they'd eaten dinner. He'd listened as the warm water had ceased to pump under the grass. He knew then what he'd had to do.
Turning his head to look at the beautiful man sleeping beside him, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen, Sylar felt a strong pang of regret that he needed to wake Mohinder up. He leaned over and kissed Mohinder gently on the brow, smoothing a stray curl of hair back from his face.
"Mohinder," Sylar breathed, "it's snowing."