Chapter Four: Fix You

And the tears come streaming down your face

when you lose something you can't replace

when you love someone but it goes to waste

could it be worse

lights will guide you home

and ignite your bones

and I will try to fix you.

- Coldplay - Fix You

Mohinder opened his eyes in the dark. He saw Sylar watching him, felt the man's hand on his back. At first the words hadn't registered as particularly important.

"Mohinder, did you hear me?" Sylar asked.

"Snowing?" Mohinder repeated uncertainly, turning over in bed and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"The generators stopped working," Sylar said.

Mohinder frowned as he struggled to figure out what Sylar was saying. A cold chill splashed through his body as he finally understood.

"We have to go," Mohinder said.

He sat up, searching around for his pants. Sylar stood up to retrieve his clothes. Mohinder found his jeans, and lay back on the bed, arching his body to pull them on in a hurry. Sylar pulled on his pants. Mohinder's heart thundered as he laced up his boots, not bothering to find his socks. Sylar chewed his bottom lip as he pulled his own shoes on.

Mohinder walked to the window, pressing his hands flat against the wall on either side to steady himself as he watched the heavy snowfall that was easily coating the grounds around the house. He squinted into the darkness, seeing shadows moving below.

"His wolves," Sylar said from right behind him, "he's getting them ready to go."

"I don't have my gun. I don't have any weapons," Mohinder said, "there has to be something in the house, something we can use."

Mohinder rushed out of the room to the kitchen, rummaging through the contents in the drawers. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of a large cutting knife. Sylar came in after him, shaking his head.

"You won't even get close enough to use that," Sylar said.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. The owner of this place must have hunted occasionally, maybe he has a gun," Mohinder said, brushing past Sylar to search the rest of the rooms. He found no shot-gun or rifle, and after most of the contents of the house were spilled out on the floor he stopped, looking up at Sylar with frightened eyes. Mohinder collapsed onto the couch, running his shaking hands through his messy curls. Sylar sat down next to him, rubbing Mohinder's back with his right hand.

"It'll be okay," he said.

"No, no it won't. I don't even have time to say goodbye to Molly. I can't-I can't..." Mohinder looked anxiously at the floor, "I'll write her a letter. You can get it to her. He won't hurt you."

Mohinder kneeled on the floor and picked up a piece of paper and a pencil from the random mess of items. He hastily scribbled a note, his hand shaking so hard that he tore the paper in several parts. Sylar slid down to the floor beside him, wrapping his right arm around Mohinder's waist, and pulling the man toward him. Mohinder allowed himself to be held, his body trembling in Sylar's arms.

"I'm sorry I made you come all the way up here for nothing," Mohinder said.

"I'm not," Sylar said, pressing his mouth to the side of Mohinder's head.

Sylar flinched, and Mohinder turned to look at him in surprise.

"What's wro..."

Mohinder was interrupted by a sharp crack at the front door. He scrambled to a standing position. Sylar stood too, turning toward the door, and maneuvering himself slightly in front of Mohinder. Snow swirled in the hall, some even coming to rest on the livingroom carpet as Mohinder and Sylar both watched. Boots thudded across the carpet as The Snowman walked through the hall, standing on the threshold of the livingroom.

"Evening," he said as he looked from Sylar to Mohinder, his deep voice sending a shiver down the shorter man's spine. Sylar gritted his teeth, moving his left hand back to grasp Mohinder's right wrist reassuringly.

"It's time to go," the Snowman said, beckoning to Mohinder.

Sylar's grip tightened on Mohinder's arm, and he sucked in a deep breath.

"He's not going with you," Sylar said.

"I thought we already went over this," the Snowman said, dropping his arm to his side with an annoyed sigh.

"He's not going with you because I'm going in his place," Sylar said.

"No," Mohinder turned to Sylar in horror.

"It's okay," Sylar said, smiling at him.

The Snowman tilted his head slightly, getting a read on Sylar.

"And what makes you think I'd take you?"

"You said he was a pure soul because he would sacrifice himself for others. Whatever I've done in the past, giving myself to you right now in his place should be worthy of your ability, right?"

"Sylar, don't do this," Mohinder begged. His eyes were glittering with the threat of tears. Sylar squeezed Mohinder's hand in his.

"

What do you say?" Sylar asked, looking pointedly at the Snowman. The latter man nodded finally. Mohinder clutched Sylar's arm, forcing him to turn and acknowledge his lover.

"Sylar," Mohinder swallowed hard.

"You have a daughter, and a life. There are a million people out there for you to help," Sylar said, pulling Mohinder close to him, an inch away from his lover's long dark lashes, "I have nothing, but you."

The tears fell from Mohinder's eyes as he faced Sylar, the man he'd been willing to kill so many times before. The man whose sacrifice now made Mohinder feel as though someone were tearing at his very soul.

"Please."

"I wanted to fix everything for so long. I wanted to fix you, but it turns out you fixed me."

Sylar leaned forward and kissed Mohinder. It was passionate, sweet, and all too short as Sylar stepped away from the one man who had helped him find heaven for a short time. He grinned at Mohinder as he followed the Snowman down the snow coated hall, and outside. Mohinder followed them, stopping in the doorway when he felt the familiar invisible force holding him back. He watched as Sylar, turning to look up at him one last time, got on the sled with the Snowman. Mohinder trembled as they took off into the darkness. The telekinetic hold faded slowly away, and he fell against the doorway, sliding down into a sitting position, leaning his head against a trembling hand as he sobbed. Snow covered him as he sat there, the world becoming a blanket of white nothingness.

One Month Later

"Mohinder, they're saying it's the most snow we've seen in a century!" Molly called excitedly from the livingroom of their apartment.

Mohinder looked out the window to the street below which was piled with over two feet of snow. The white stuff was still coming down hard.

"They say that the snow we're getting now came from a storm front that moved down from Northern Canada," Molly added.

Mohinder swallowed hard, wiping a tear quickly from his eye as Molly ran into the kitchen to see him.

"Can we go play?"

"Of course," Mohinder said with a forced smile.

In no time, Molly had put all her snow clothes on, and was dragging Mohinder out the door with her. They trekked through the street, stopping to stand in the middle of it. Molly plopped down on her back and began to make a snow angel. Mohinder grinned at her. Then he turned his dark eyes up to the sky, catching brilliant white flakes of snow on his lashes, and blinking them away. Mohinder closed his eyes and let the snow cover him completely, feeling it embrace him. He could almost feel the warm arms around his waist.

He could just hear the whisper in his ear.

"I love you."