Pain was the first thing Mohinder felt upon his return to consciousness. He was quite sure that he was very bruised and possibly a little bloody. The second thing he felt was a strange draftiness. Then he realised he was in his underwear.
Alone.
In a windowless room.
Perfect. I've been hijacked.
It was at that point that Sylar walked in. He was just as Mohinder remembered him. Very handsome, dark, cynical, stubble-faced, smirking.
"Hello, Sylar. I suppose you have a reason for hijacking me like this… and for taking my clothes," he said calmly and with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Of course, doctor. You're surprised, I see, that I have my powers back. Are you afraid that I'm going to kill you?"
"No," was the firm reply.
"Of dying?"
"No."
"Pain? Mental anguish?"
A beat.
"No."
The pause beforehand gave it away. Sylar's lips curved up into a smile that frightened the geneticist more than a smile should.
"I see. Y'know, you really should learn to face your fears."
Mohinder hadn't even realised that Sylar had been backing him up against a wall until it was far to late. He tried to hide his fear as he stared into the malevolent brown eyes, but it wasn't working too well. Sylar continued to smile; he raised his hand. Mohinder flinched involuntarily, then felt something very unexpected. Sylar was caressing his face. He still looked incredibly evil, but he was being very gentle. Mohinder tried to jerk his head; it didn't work. He was stuck there for Sylar to molest.
"So soft," the villain purred, "I wonder if the rest of you is, too…"
The hand that wasn't occupied with his face began to move down his body. The geneticist's breath hitched; he was terrified. The man who was now stroking and feeling his body was a murderer. A cold-blooded killer whose only thought was himself and what he could gain. Mohinder shuddered to think of what could happen to him at his hands… which was currently quite the molestation. His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat trickled down his face. He felt lips and stubble brush against his ear.
"We're going to have lots of fun, Dr. Suresh. It'll be a scream."
Mohinder's chest heaved with each terrified breath he sucked in. His heart pumped faster. Sweat poured down his body. Suddenly, Sylar crushed his mouth to Mohinder's. The Indian struggled with the force, but Sylar was too forceful. He pushed his tongue past Mohinder's lips, controlling every part of the kiss. For a split second, the idea of biting the unwelcome tongue appealed very much to Mohinder, but then he thought that Sylar might like that. He seemed like that sort of person.
Maybe he wouldn't like an acquiescing victim…
Mohinder went limp under him. Sylar pulled away a few seconds later.
"Well, that's no fun at all," he mock-pouted.
"That was the point."
Mohinder did not expect the right hook to his jaw. It sent him to his knees, then toppling sideways. He clapped his hands to his jaw. He felt Sylar grab his arm roughly, and he was yanked to his feet. He was slammed to the wall again. There was the sound of a door opening and shutting.
Mohinder was alone.
I promise it'll get better.