I need a vacation

Mohinder Suresh was honestly surprised that he was still alive. In the eleven days since Sylar was stabbed through the chest in Kirby Plaza, Mohinder thought he could feel the other man's presence everywhere he went. In those two hundred and sixty-four hours, Sylar was a shadow never once leaving Mohinder's side. Every gust of wind on the street was a dark voice softly calling out to him and every creak in the night was the footsteps of his demise coming home.

But Sylar had not shown himself, not to Mohinder anyway. No sudden appearances. No attempts on Mohinder's life. No phone calls, although he assumed that was probably a onetime occurrence anyway. The dark-haired men Mohinder saw on the streets always turned out to be strangers perturbed at being accosted by an Indian man they had never met. The man he saw every night, the man who came into Mohinder's bedroom to kiss him, to kill him, to hold him, to drain the life out of him… That man was always gone when the first rays of dawn broke Mohinder's restless slumber, reminding him of just how alone he was.

Sylar wasn't dead; Mohinder was sure of this. He would know if he were. So he must just be biding his time. This was the thought that Mohinder's heart shouted out every time the geneticist wondered why he hadn't heard from his former traveling companion. He was just demonstrating once again who was in control. Showing Mohinder that no matter what situation the two of them entered into, Sylar would always be the one calling the shots. When they first met, when they thrust their warm bodies into each other in darkened hotel rooms, and even when Mohinder had tried to kill his former lover, Sylar never let go of the reigns.

So he must just be waiting for the right moment to come after Mohinder. Because the only other alternative… well, Mohinder wasn't going to entertain the possibility that Sylar may have just lost any interest he once had in the Indian scientist.

So Mohinder waited. Any attempt he made to focus on something else just failed him. When he tried to continue his father's research he was overcome with guilt at all the innocent people he had led to the slaughter just so he could have someone hold him at night. The movies he went to were interspersed with images of heated passion. Every shadow that played across the books he read made him wonder if Sylar would draw out his death, making every excruciating moment last. Every night as he drifted to sleep, he faintly wondered if he would awaken tomorrow. The one man he didn't want to think about was the one thing that wouldn't leave his mind.

Mohinder Suresh had spent eleven days alone with his thoughts of the man that had overtaken his life. Eleven days jumping at every shadow that crossed his path. Eleven days waiting for the man who had once whispered "I love you" in a single moment of weakness to come and put an end to his life. Eleven days praying for his own death, just so he wouldn't have to spend one more night alone.