Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg. Slight OOC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Fucked about tomorrow

Musik/Film: Disturbia

Beta: Aaron

A/N: Hallo! Here it is: As I promised. Chapter three of Untitled (By the way, if anyone has a title name for this. If would be greatly welcomed). I would love to get feedback. And you can has cookies and pocky.
(1) ~ In 1971 the population was 2,420,000. And in 1981 the population was 3,266,034. So, if Mohinder born in 1974, if wouldn't quite be 3,266,034 just yet.

Chapter Two

The sun glared through the bay window and shun down on the grey sheets.

Mohinder groaned; and with his eyes still shut from being half-asleep, he pushed away the thick, winter blanket. He covered his face with his arms and rolled onto his side, and further into the bed. And onto another body.

Gabriel was sleeping. After arriving back last night, drenched from the rain. He had stripped down to nothing, grabbed a pair of faded pyjama bottoms and when straight to bed. The sun was rising and glaring through window and down onto the sheets. Gabriel whined and pulled the sheets over his head, blocking the suns ray. Just a few minutes after...

Gabriel jumped up. The old bed-cover falling half off of the bed. Gabriel's instinct told him to push whatever had awoken him. And had ended up pushing Mohinder onto the hard, woorden floor. Causing a loud thump as Mohinder's rear-end and the wooden floor met.

"Ouch." Mohinder moaned. "All you had to do was tell me to move. You didn't have to push me onto the floor." Mohinder said, getting up as he rubbed his sore lower-back.

Gabriel made a quiet, huffing noise. "Well, you didn't have to come onto another man in his unconsious state, Mohinder." He said with a flat tone, getting up and walking away. Leaving Mohinder standing on the floor with his wounded behind.

Mohinder followed Gabriel's movements till he was out the door and out of site. Closing the door quietly, and wandering over the unmade bed slowly. Mohinder's thoughts enticed him. 'What on Earth am I doing here? In Syler's home? In his bed? Gosh, not only in his bed. But, actually in the bed with him. And I rolled onto him. How embarassing...' Mohinder's eyes widened.

"Well, you didn't have to come onto another man in his unconscious state, Mohinder"

What was Sylar implying? Coming onto him. Mohinder wasn't coming onto him when he moved in his sleep and bumped into Sylar. It was a mistake that was made. Even in that huge bed. Nothing more. Mohinder wasn't like that. He didn't swing that way. Mohinder Suresh had never thought himself to be.... Gay.

Gabriel Gray. Sylar. Thirty-one years of age. Intuitive Aptitude; his own ability. And current possessor of many other abilities that Intuitive Aptitude has helped him gain. He has been given the nick-name; The Brain Man. The Bad Man. And even The Boogeyman.

Was currently downing a mug of strong, black coffee. He needed it. After being woken up by being Mohinder, he wasn't happy. Firstly; he hadn't gotten all that much sleep. He had walked into his apartment at four-thirty AM that morning. And it was five minutes past seven. And secondly; he wasn't expecting to be awoken by another person. Let alone another male. When he had climbed into bed, he didn't really take all that much noticed that Mohinder was also in the bed.

'Heh. How stupid. I knew that he was there. I put him. I mean, it's not like I meant to find him. Or even bring him back. I should have just killed him right there. That way; he wouldn't get in my way. I don't even know why I picked him up. What was I thinking?' Sylar thought

"That's probably it. I wasn't thinking." Gabriel concluded. Bring the mug of coffee closer to his mouth and finishing off the liquid. "I just... wasn't thinking."

Gabriel pushed open the bedroom door. Keeping his eyes forward, refusing to look in the direction of the huge bed. Gabriel walked over to the floor-to-celling wardrobe. He grabbed a pair of dark grey slacks and a plain blue, long-sleeved tee-shirt. Ready to walk back out the bedroom door quite fast- something stopped him.

The grey sheets were tousled and were thrown half onto the floor. The other half of the heavy bed-cover was partially covering Mohinder's hazelnut-coloured body. One of his toned legs not under the covers. The genetics professor's eyes were gently twitching; indicating he was dreaming.

Madras, India. 1975

Four-year old Shanti Suresh was taking her one and a half-year old baby brother, Mohinder, to the out-skirts of Madras, India. Away from the ever-busy market stools. Away from the ever-growing 2,420,000 (1) population count. The heat was rising- as it always did that time of year.

Shanti was wearing a cotton red and orange lacha that came just under her knees. Her past-shoulder length hair was in two braids. The bangles on her arms clanging together as she carried Mohinder. Her feet bare as she walked through the hot sand grains. Her younger brother was wearing a thin cotton kurta pajama in the colours of light orange and white.

Shanti had been carrying her brother for a few hours, wandering through the quieting city. As they reached the quietest part of Madras; Shanti heard their mother calling. And slowing walking nearer to the two young children.

Their mother was wearing was wearing a traditional Indian sari; also being coloured with red and orange. Her simply patterned saree draped over one of her lithe shoulders and slightly covered the lower part of her long hair.

"Shanti, time to come back now. You and your brother a probably hungry." Their mother said in her mother-tongue, Tamil. She took her youngest child from his sister, and positioned him on her right hip. With her left hand she held her daughter's smaller hand and slowly walked back to the home she shared with her husband, Professor Chandra Suresh.

Madras, India. 1989

Mohinder was now fifteen years of age. He had grown much taller- He was nearing 5ft and 6 inches or 167 centimeters. His hair had grown into dark brown curls. He wore a dark red Kurta that stopped below his knees. Mohinder was currently studying to follow in his father's profession.

Brooklyn, New York. Two nights ago.

He was confused. Two rough-looking men were approaching him. What did they want?

They began to pat him down. Their hands digging through his pockets- trying to find whatever they could find. A ten dollar bill and an expensive watch. They needed crack. And even though the watch would get them a little. It wouldn't matter that much to Mohinder that he lost a watch and a tenner.

Mohinder was turning in his sleep. His head turning from left to right. His hand tightening as he gripped the sheets.

One of the men grunted, staggering towards Mohinder's legs. The rough , tall man gripped Mohinder's trousers and yanked them down...

"Mohinder...." Someone called. Mohinder was twisting and turning his dream-turned-nightmare of his memories was getting worse. "Mohinder. Wake up. Mohinder!"

He shot up, nearly head-butting Gabriel. He was sweating, breathing hard.

Mohinder grabbed a-hold of Gabriel's shoulders, gripping them tightly. Scared to let go. The next thing that Mohinder did shocked the both of them. Mohinder buried his in the junction of Gabriel's neck and his shoulder. And sobbed.

Hesitantly, Gabriel gently wrapped his arms around Mohinder's back. He pulled the Indian closer. Letting him sob all he wanted.