A/N: Continuation from chapter 30...The captured Sylar scenario. Not exactly what I wanted...but meh...Has Mylarness in it.
Mohinder tried to keep his footfalls silent, though the bare flesh of his feet sounded loudly in his ears while slapping against hard, cement flooring. The night shadows surrounded him as he moved, making Mohinder want to wrap his arms around his freezing frame because it seemed like the building's furnace was down, like its electricity. Fear kept Mohinder's arms out reaching, feeling along the wall to know his way through the darkness. The wall alerted him to hallway's starting or doorways appearing, helping Mohinder located himself using his mental map of the building.
Cool drafts that blew from hallway openings sending goose bumps spiraling across his dark, sweaty skin. Mohinder felt even more vulnerable with his naked skin exposed, more easily killable because the target of his heart was in clear view to creature that could see in the dark. The rational side of his mind told Mohinder to keep moving, but each step brought more fear and his hope of escaping was almost non-existent. With no sign of life for the twenty minutes he had walked, Mohinder knew he wouldn't be saved, knew that Peter couldn't do anything to help him; yet he still continued walking.
He whirled around when he felt warm air brush against the back of his neck and the sudden movement caused him to stumble over something hard on the floor. There was nothing behind him, save for a dark, empty hallway, and Mohinder tried to calm his breathing, bring his mind back from the terror it had suffered. His dark eyes landed on a corpse, lying with its head at an odd angle, the object he had stumbled over. Mohinder squinted hard at the face, recognizing the guard he talked to regularly during lunch breaks. This man who also believed Sylar should be dead, the man who now lay discarded on the floor to be feasted on by rats.
He shivered as a memory invaded his thoughts of that one time this guard, a man he never knew the name of, had brought Sylar in and Mohinder started talking to him. Sylar's cold, drugged eyes were watching, calculating, as Mohinder patted the man's shoulder in his trademark gesture of friendship. Mohinder had known at the back of his mind that this man had been marked dead, knew he had meant it to happen, knew he wanted to make Sylar jealous of the power he no longer had; power over Mohinder's life. His eyes were burning with unshed tears as he closed the guards blank eyes, guilt pulsed through his veins for what he had done; how he had damned another person to hell in his struggle against Sylar, a battle that already had a victor.
Another shiver wracked his body as Mohinder fisted his hands in the guard jacket, noticing no blood on it. He start removing the coat, wanting security of clothes and the little warmth offered but the weight of cool metal paused Mohinder's motions. His eyes widened a fraction, hands wrapping around the handle of the gun and excitement coursed through his heart for a brief moment. The gun weighed heavily in his grip, locked and loaded. Mohinder could use it to defend himself against Sylar or to kill himself now; it took no thoughts for Mohinder knew the former idea was foolish and impossible.
Mohinder pressed the gun hard against his temple, indenting skin so he knew he wouldn't miss. Seconds went by as he sat there, working up the nerve, and when the moment finally came, his trigger finger twitching, Mohinder promptly froze in place. Not of his own violation, of course, but from a will more powerful than his own. Mohinder's eyes fell shut in dismay as he realized the trap he had allowed himself to fall into and the soft tapping of feet echoed off the walls behind him.
"You sure you want to do that?" Sylar's voice was soft, almost gentle and caring, but Mohinder could feel the amusement seeping through his back as his shaking body rose on its own.
The gun dropped from Mohinder's hold, clattering noisily on the ground. Mohinder wanted to believe that it fell due to Sylar's command, but he knew he had just given Sylar back his control. Sylar had staged this whole thing to see what Mohinder would do. Had given Mohinder the control over his life, briefly allowing himself to choose if he wanted life or death and Mohinder had chosen himself unworthy of life. Now it was Sylar's turn to prove him wrong, just as before when Mohinder said the monster couldn't be loved and yet his heart now skipped with each closer step.
"Hello Mohinder." Sylar's cooed, as if he hadn't been about to kill himself.
Mohinder felt strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind, the rough feel of cotton warming his chilled skin. He didn't want to feel the joy swelling in his heart, but a gentle kiss to his temple pulled a sigh from his lips.
"Did you have a nice sleep? You looked so peaceful last I saw you." Mohinder tried to jerk away as the memory of Nathan's death returned, but Sylar pulled him closer.
"I missed being able to touch you, Mohinder." Sylar mused, trailing kisses down Mohinder's sweating neck and sharp teeth biting down over Nathan's previous marks; drawing blood and laying claim.
Those strong, warm hands trailed possessively down Mohinder's quivering frame and grasped hold of his hardening erection. With firm rough strokes, Sylar had Mohinder bucking into his hand whimpering with need and despair, cursing Sylar's with hungry moans. Sylar laughter curled in Mohinder's ear, mocking him for his weakness and driving him further towards release. Just before he reached the end, his body vibrating with need, Sylar pulled away; leaving Mohinder on fallen knees, unable to bring himself to release due to Sylar's invisible hold.
"Peter's here." Sylar explained, vanishing into the shadows to go meet his prey.
A/N: Not fully edited, point out errors.