Featherrain
foe fascination

Challenge: Feindberührung (+Englisch X_X')
Anmerkung: Es ist unverstädnlich und wie immer völlig plotlos und äh... ja...
Wörter: 1418
Beta: *lol*



The gun points at Sylar who smirks seeing how much Mohinder's hand shakes. Both of them know that pointing a gun or trying to shoot down Sylar is like switching off the sun. The tense look in Mohinder's eyes amuses him more and more.

„I know that you know how to use this toy, doctor, but it's just a toy.“ It nearly sounds humming, vibrating dangerously in the ears of the Indian. He swollows but doesn't put the gun down. His heart beats fast and way to hard against his chest since Sylar stepped in his lab. And smiled cruelly down to him from the gallery, murderous, full of self-confidence. Now they both stand in front of them, watching each other like animals. The only problem is that Mohinder feels like the rabbit in this moment, and Sylar's the wolf.

„What do you want?“, Mohinder asks with a small growl. He even not blinks. Way to strong is the distrust to the other man who seems calm as the blue sky itself.

„What would you say it's you?“

„I would say you're insane, Sylar.“

„Say something new, Mohinder.“

„Like what?“

„Dunno“, Sylar answars in a playfull tone and smiling disgraceful.

„Like hell you don-“, begins Mohinder harshly when suddenly Sylar makes a flick-like gesture to remove the gun from Mohinder's hands and lets it cursh against the wall. A shot gets released and the genetist flinchs. With mixed emotions of fear und furious he stares at Sylar who chuckles by this sight.

„Someone could've been injured!“

„YOU could've been injured, Mohinder.“

„Fine, I could've been injured!“

„As if I would let you get injured that easily and uncontrolled.“

„You're insane.“

„No news, dear Mohinder.“

Without anything in his hands that could let him feel saver from the murderer Mohinder peeks around him, feeling panic growing. A small voice inside his head murmurs that Sylar never would kill him and never hurt badly. But only the strange look in Sylar's eyes lets Mohinder pray to some mighty one above him in who he never believed as a scientist.

„It's the illness-?“, he started a new topic ignoring his sweat wet hands.

„I'm fine, doctor“, replies Sylar in a new calm manner. No more scary grimace, no smirk, no smile, just that confusing look.

„So what-?“, Mohinder tries again and gasp suprised when Sylar seems to ignore him, watching around in his lab. As if he had said something wrong and absolutly fearless. Indeed, why should Sylar fear Mohinder, not such a special person, without any abilities, just his small knowledg about this fascinating people.

„Was just curious if you had something new for me. Any new abilities? Or if you already want to be get fixed-“

„What with this fixing shit, Sylar? I'm not one of your clockworks. You can't fix people, you just kill them, cruelly, like an animal, just more dangerous and more intelligent.“

Sylar looks up and a small smile gets on his face.
„So you don't believe I could fix you?“

„No!“

„But, Mohinder, you – as a scientist, especially as a genetist – should know that everything logical, systematical, absolutly everything can get fixed. And I don't fix just clocks.“

„How-“

„I take theire abilities.“

„No“, Mohinder stutters and get nervous by the memory of all the victims. „No...“

„...What?“

„How would you fix me? What's wrong with me?“

„Do you trust me?“

„Of course not!“

Taking his eyes of Mohinder he shrugs and takes a folder to glance through. „You're so stubborn.“

And now it's Mohinder's turn to laugh and he doesn't know if he actually rather should cry than laugh.

„What makes you laugh so hard?“

„Am I wrong or do you really ask me for my permission to fix me?“

„In some way... You see I'm just a kind guy.“

„You and a kind guy!“

„Not?“

„Don't make me laugh to death.“

„Strange thought.“

„You are a psycho, a murderer, someone who takes everything by force-“

„Oh~ So that's it? You want me to force you? Mohinder, I've never-“, Sylar starts amused and takes back the folder on the table.

„No, wait!“ Mohinder raises his arms immediatly as if he could hold him back with that gesture. „I don't know what you're thinking of or what you want-“

„I've said you that I only-“

„But I never, NEVER let you-“

„Okay, wait.“ Sylar raises one hand to silent Mohinder who looks curious to him. „I'm no damn telepath so I don't know what you're thinking of I would do to you but you can be sure that it's of no fucking use for me to kill you.“

„I know“, replies the other one with new calmness and watchs Sylar tensful.

„So what the hell?“

Mohinder stares at Sylar and can't realise how abstract that situation is to him. After weeks that more than dangerous guy came up to him, in the mood for small talk or what the fuck else and now they arguing about the train of thought of the other, as if it is a really manipulating game. And he starts to realise that it all is really manipulation and he only can't get the grip on this. But not only him. With his body language Sylar shows him that he get nervous from that strange situation. Maybe escalating for him.

First it is a shy step forward when Mohinder wants to try out how to get a grip on that psycho in front of him. Sylar blinks to him and observes him. The movement seems to surprise him.

„You said you want me...“ It's a loud murmur that fills the tense air between them. „What in concret?“ Step by step, slowly, Mohinder reaches to Sylar who can't get the grip of the abruptly changing situation.

„I dunno what you mean“, he answers slowly not letting Mohinder out of his sight.

„You dunno?“ And he smiles.

Sylar raises an eyebrow and stands still when Mohinder's in front of him, he just has to reach out for him. „Yeah.“

„There's no list.“

„I know.“

„I cannot bring you to your new victims.“

„Of course you can“ Sylar smirks coldly.

„I'm now of no use for you-“

„You-“

„What?“, hisses Mohinder and stares at him inquiring.

„You just can't understand, doctor. That's all.“ Sylar hisses back and glares at him.

„Explain it to me“ he murmurs and wants to touch his arm, curious of the reaction when Sylar fliches back from the awaiting contact. Big brown eyes meet simualr dark eyes full of surprise.

„What's up, doctor? Getting all touchy after such a long time alone again with me or what? Don't dare.“

„Incredible to see the murderer Sylar getting scared by just one touch“, muses Mohinder.

„I'm not scared of any touch or any you!“

„So what's up with you, Gabriel?“

„My name is Sylar!“ he growls with a deep voice on Mohinder, only inches away from his face, seeing every little movement on the dark face.

„I'm not afraid of you“ Mohinder replies calmly.

„Of course you're scared.“ With a fast move he clutches his neck and Sylar's bright hands seems to shimmers on the dark of Mohinder's skin. Gasping and despreatly catching for breath Mohinder blinks sursprised at Sylar's furious face. Maybe his sight gets worser or Sylar's eye really get darker in fury so Mohinder could only helplessly blink and stare. The hand at his neck gets colder and the lack of breath let him desperatly wish to faint away to get away from this pain. „I scare the hell out of you, Suresh, but you can't get enough, because I'm so special. So special to you.“

Mohinder wishs he could answer, to deny the thought that comes up by Sylar's words. And then, when everything seems to get pitch black he feels his body hitting the floor. His sight was all blurry when he could open his eyes a moment later just to see Sylar standing above him, staring down with an unreadable expression on his face.

„You're so fragil.“ It sounds like a whispering to Mohinder and something in Sylar's eyes let him feel like made of porcelain. He kneels beside him, observing the face of the other with the flattering eyelashes and a look between awareness and unconsciouness. A careful hand touchs lightly the black curls.
When Mohinder can't fight back anymore the feeling of fainting everything goes cold around him.
Only one thought swims inside of his head, murmuring: „I should protect you.“
21.4.08 13:48
 


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