Over Phone Lines - Heroes - Mohinder/Bennet
Title: Over Phone Lines
Characters: Mohinder, Bennet (Mohinder/Bennet subtext, Bennet/Sandra)
Word Count: 1200
Rating: PG
A/N: Written with a_to_z_prompts's "empty-handed" prompt.
Summary: "Was there a reason for this phone call, Bennet?" Mohinder asks groggily, "or are you merely deriving sadistic pleasure from waking me up at three AM?"
The invitation hangs in the air, its jaws open and waiting. Bennet swallows and holds the phone tighter than he ordinarily would. The depressing purple of Copy Kingdom's break room surrounds him: Mohinder's voice is a surreal thing to hear in a place like this, even along a phone line. "I'm not sure if that would be such a great idea," he responds eventually.
The silence at the other end of the line stretches for an unnaturally long time before Mohinder clears his throat. "Of course not - you're right. I wasn't thinking."
"You have to stay clear-headed, Suresh. You can do this."
"I know..." Mohinder murmurs. "I know."
"Trust me. If I could do this alone, I would."
Mohinder chuckles, a dry and empty sound. "I suppose that means you 'need' me."
Silently, Bennet thinks of Sandra, of Claire, of Lyle. The startling temptation that Mohinder offers at times is dangerous. "I suppose so."
"Don't worry about me. You're right: I can do this." Mohinder, Bennet feels, is not quite as strong as he thinks - but he's strong enough for the task that needs to be done.
"I'll be in touch soon," he promises. "Stay calm."
"Easier said than done," Mohinder grumbles, before he hangs up. It's their version of 'goodbye'.
*
"I don't think they're interested, to be honest," Mohinder says. In the background there is the sound of clattering dishes and murmured conversation. "I've been doing this for months."
"They're interested." Bennet smiles. "They're being cautious. That's a good sign."
"It is?"
"Yes. Really. If they weren't being cautious they would have taken you by now." That's what he would have done: snatched him from the streets and taken him to the Company's headquarters by force. There would be nobody to miss him. "They haven't done that - that means they want your cooperation. That means we've got an in."
Mohinder doesn't speak for a few moments. Bennet can hear him breathing, however, loud and heavy as he reins in that temper of his. "Did you think that there was a chance they would - 'take me'? When you told me to do this, did you know-"
"Yes." Bennet leans back in his chair, hidden in the secluded shade of his home office. "I hoped they wouldn't, but it was always a possibility."
"And you never thought to warn me about that possibility before I started trying to draw their attention?"
"I didn't think it would be necessary, Suresh. You're an intelligent man. I thought that, knowing what we did to Matt, the risks would be obvious."
There is another pause that is longer than it ought to be. "A little warning would have been nice," Mohinder snipes eventually - a dragon soothed, but only for now. "Are there any other 'obvious' dangers I should know about? Though it's probably too late by now anyway."
More than I could list, Bennet thinks.
"Nothing immediately springs to mind," he answers. "Nothing you don't already know."
Their goodbyes are tense and stunted. Bennet is glad to finally put down the phone.
*
Mohinder breathes on the end of the line. That is it. That is all.
Bennet listens.
*
"Was there a reason for this phone call, Bennet?" Mohinder asks groggily, "or are you merely deriving sadistic pleasure from waking me up at three AM?"
Bennet smiles. He sits on the step outside the Butlers' new home and tries to tell himself that he can live here, that he can do this. "No reason," he says.
"Ah. Option number two. I'd feared as much."
"I wanted to talk," Bennet says. "Just talk."
"You couldn't have picked a more sociable hour?" Mohinder complains. Behind him, Bennet can hear the sound of fast-running water, then the shuffle and click as Mohinder turns the kettle on. "Is everything alright?"
"Mm." The list of things that are not 'alright' is longer than Bennet can think of while remaining sane. "Everything's fine."
"Are you alright?" Mohinder asks instead.
Bennet chuckles. "I'm always alright."
"You don't have to do this, you know. You're well hidden where you are. If you want to walk away..."
"I don't." Bennet's fingers tap nervously against the cold, stone step he sits on. "They'll find us eventually, Suresh. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually. I need to make sure my family is safe."
The kettle boils. Bennet listens as Mohinder juggles the phone in order to pour himself a cup of hot tea. "Well, I'm up now," Mohinder announces once he's had the first sip. "And I very much doubt that I'm going to be able to go back to sleep in a hurry. What did you want to talk about?"
Bennet restrains a shiver in the cold night air. He shouldn't allow this to be personal: he shouldn't allow himself to like Mohinder as a person. "Tell me about India," he says. "I've never actually been."
He can hear the warm smile in Mohinder voice as he tells him about his home town: despite the cold night, the tales of hot summer days and sweltering classrooms help to keep the chills at bay.
*
"Parkman thinks you're a bad influence on me," Mohinder tells him. "He says that if I had any sense I'd abandon this foolish plan immediately."
Bennet smiles. "Do you agree with him?"
"Of course," Mohinder answers, "but I've never been known for possessing a great deal of sense."
*
When the phone doesn't ring for a week, Bennet's fingers itch. He tells himself that this is to be expected: Suresh has no reason to contact him. He's busy touring, busy lecturing, busy playing bait. The less contact between them the better.
And yet...
He misses the midnight conversations: hiding in shadows with Mohinder's voice pouring like honey from the receiver. With that phone pressed to his ear, he feels like Noah Bennet again instead of Noah Butler, a pathetic and dead-end loser.
"Honey," Sandra asks, her arm slipping around his waist. She nuzzled the back of his neck, her nose as cold as if it had been snowing. "Is something wrong?"
I'm happy here, he tells himself as he rolls around to face her. "Of course not," he lies, tucking her hair behind her ear. He loves her. He trusts her. He wants to protect her.
And the phone still doesn't ring.
*
"Be careful," he warns Mohinder at the end of their first phone call in weeks.
Don't get hurt.
Don't get taken.
Don't be changed.
"They're close now - they're interested. You have to be on guard."
"Thank you, Bennet. I wouldn't have thought of that," Mohinder snips insincerely, before a sigh allows some of the pent-up frustration to escape. "I'll be as cautious as I can be. You know me."
Exactly.
Once the Company had sank their teeth into someone like Mohinder...
He won't think about that. Mohinder knows what he's doing. Bennet places the phone down after a curt goodbye. He wishes that he was there with Mohinder instead of here with his family - Mohinder needs more protection now than Claire does.
*
The next phone call comes and it's all too late.
"They finally took the bait," Mohinder says.
Satisfaction blooms in the centre of Bennet's chest: neither of them realise that this is the end, not the beginning.
Characters: Mohinder, Bennet (Mohinder/Bennet subtext, Bennet/Sandra)
Word Count: 1200
Rating: PG
A/N: Written with a_to_z_prompts's "empty-handed" prompt.
Summary: "Was there a reason for this phone call, Bennet?" Mohinder asks groggily, "or are you merely deriving sadistic pleasure from waking me up at three AM?"
The invitation hangs in the air, its jaws open and waiting. Bennet swallows and holds the phone tighter than he ordinarily would. The depressing purple of Copy Kingdom's break room surrounds him: Mohinder's voice is a surreal thing to hear in a place like this, even along a phone line. "I'm not sure if that would be such a great idea," he responds eventually.
The silence at the other end of the line stretches for an unnaturally long time before Mohinder clears his throat. "Of course not - you're right. I wasn't thinking."
"You have to stay clear-headed, Suresh. You can do this."
"I know..." Mohinder murmurs. "I know."
"Trust me. If I could do this alone, I would."
Mohinder chuckles, a dry and empty sound. "I suppose that means you 'need' me."
Silently, Bennet thinks of Sandra, of Claire, of Lyle. The startling temptation that Mohinder offers at times is dangerous. "I suppose so."
"Don't worry about me. You're right: I can do this." Mohinder, Bennet feels, is not quite as strong as he thinks - but he's strong enough for the task that needs to be done.
"I'll be in touch soon," he promises. "Stay calm."
"Easier said than done," Mohinder grumbles, before he hangs up. It's their version of 'goodbye'.
*
"I don't think they're interested, to be honest," Mohinder says. In the background there is the sound of clattering dishes and murmured conversation. "I've been doing this for months."
"They're interested." Bennet smiles. "They're being cautious. That's a good sign."
"It is?"
"Yes. Really. If they weren't being cautious they would have taken you by now." That's what he would have done: snatched him from the streets and taken him to the Company's headquarters by force. There would be nobody to miss him. "They haven't done that - that means they want your cooperation. That means we've got an in."
Mohinder doesn't speak for a few moments. Bennet can hear him breathing, however, loud and heavy as he reins in that temper of his. "Did you think that there was a chance they would - 'take me'? When you told me to do this, did you know-"
"Yes." Bennet leans back in his chair, hidden in the secluded shade of his home office. "I hoped they wouldn't, but it was always a possibility."
"And you never thought to warn me about that possibility before I started trying to draw their attention?"
"I didn't think it would be necessary, Suresh. You're an intelligent man. I thought that, knowing what we did to Matt, the risks would be obvious."
There is another pause that is longer than it ought to be. "A little warning would have been nice," Mohinder snipes eventually - a dragon soothed, but only for now. "Are there any other 'obvious' dangers I should know about? Though it's probably too late by now anyway."
More than I could list, Bennet thinks.
"Nothing immediately springs to mind," he answers. "Nothing you don't already know."
Their goodbyes are tense and stunted. Bennet is glad to finally put down the phone.
*
Mohinder breathes on the end of the line. That is it. That is all.
Bennet listens.
*
"Was there a reason for this phone call, Bennet?" Mohinder asks groggily, "or are you merely deriving sadistic pleasure from waking me up at three AM?"
Bennet smiles. He sits on the step outside the Butlers' new home and tries to tell himself that he can live here, that he can do this. "No reason," he says.
"Ah. Option number two. I'd feared as much."
"I wanted to talk," Bennet says. "Just talk."
"You couldn't have picked a more sociable hour?" Mohinder complains. Behind him, Bennet can hear the sound of fast-running water, then the shuffle and click as Mohinder turns the kettle on. "Is everything alright?"
"Mm." The list of things that are not 'alright' is longer than Bennet can think of while remaining sane. "Everything's fine."
"Are you alright?" Mohinder asks instead.
Bennet chuckles. "I'm always alright."
"You don't have to do this, you know. You're well hidden where you are. If you want to walk away..."
"I don't." Bennet's fingers tap nervously against the cold, stone step he sits on. "They'll find us eventually, Suresh. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually. I need to make sure my family is safe."
The kettle boils. Bennet listens as Mohinder juggles the phone in order to pour himself a cup of hot tea. "Well, I'm up now," Mohinder announces once he's had the first sip. "And I very much doubt that I'm going to be able to go back to sleep in a hurry. What did you want to talk about?"
Bennet restrains a shiver in the cold night air. He shouldn't allow this to be personal: he shouldn't allow himself to like Mohinder as a person. "Tell me about India," he says. "I've never actually been."
He can hear the warm smile in Mohinder voice as he tells him about his home town: despite the cold night, the tales of hot summer days and sweltering classrooms help to keep the chills at bay.
*
"Parkman thinks you're a bad influence on me," Mohinder tells him. "He says that if I had any sense I'd abandon this foolish plan immediately."
Bennet smiles. "Do you agree with him?"
"Of course," Mohinder answers, "but I've never been known for possessing a great deal of sense."
*
When the phone doesn't ring for a week, Bennet's fingers itch. He tells himself that this is to be expected: Suresh has no reason to contact him. He's busy touring, busy lecturing, busy playing bait. The less contact between them the better.
And yet...
He misses the midnight conversations: hiding in shadows with Mohinder's voice pouring like honey from the receiver. With that phone pressed to his ear, he feels like Noah Bennet again instead of Noah Butler, a pathetic and dead-end loser.
"Honey," Sandra asks, her arm slipping around his waist. She nuzzled the back of his neck, her nose as cold as if it had been snowing. "Is something wrong?"
I'm happy here, he tells himself as he rolls around to face her. "Of course not," he lies, tucking her hair behind her ear. He loves her. He trusts her. He wants to protect her.
And the phone still doesn't ring.
*
"Be careful," he warns Mohinder at the end of their first phone call in weeks.
Don't get hurt.
Don't get taken.
Don't be changed.
"They're close now - they're interested. You have to be on guard."
"Thank you, Bennet. I wouldn't have thought of that," Mohinder snips insincerely, before a sigh allows some of the pent-up frustration to escape. "I'll be as cautious as I can be. You know me."
Exactly.
Once the Company had sank their teeth into someone like Mohinder...
He won't think about that. Mohinder knows what he's doing. Bennet places the phone down after a curt goodbye. He wishes that he was there with Mohinder instead of here with his family - Mohinder needs more protection now than Claire does.
*
The next phone call comes and it's all too late.
"They finally took the bait," Mohinder says.
Satisfaction blooms in the centre of Bennet's chest: neither of them realise that this is the end, not the beginning.