Heroes fic: How You Sleep (1/12?)
Title: How You Sleep - Chapter One: Connections (1/12?)
Series: Heroes
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: R
Warnings: Mpreg! BS science! Fairly dark! Consent issues!
Summary: After being doused with the complete formula, Mohinder copes with a lingering side effect as he and everyone around him try to rebuild their lives and their trust.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Loneliness was not new to Mohinder in America. From desperately trying to get people to take his father's theories seriously when he first came to New York, to separating from Matt and Molly while working with Bennet against Primatech, to the experimental horror that drove away Maya and led him to toil under Arthur Petrelli's employ, he'd constantly tried to make human connections that would last, that he couldn't ruin.
Being on the run wasn't any different, and his condition-- a new life improbably growing inside of him-- ironically made him feel all the more alone. He not only couldn't stay with Peter and Matt, but on strange streets he was responsible not just for his own well-being but the well-being of another, who was far more fragile. There was no one he could go to for help, because everyone he knew in America was involved in the abductions, and it was impossible to fly home. Even calling home would put Molly at risk.
He kept on the move, stretching out the money Peter had given him as much as he could. He had a half-baked idea about finding some isolated shack in the woods to hide in, but that wouldn't help him get food, and what was he going to do as the pregnancy progressed? Currently, he only suffered from headaches, but he knew as time went on it would be more difficult to cope with the symptoms.
On his fourth day alone, around twilight, Mohinder walked on an unpopulated main street in a well-to-do Nevada town, weighing the option of prostituting himself to survive while he still looked normal, albeit sprouting a poor-looking beard. As he walked by an ATM, the screen flashed, drawing his gaze. "THE ULTIMATE GETAWAY!" it declared beside a pixelated palm tree. Mohinder snorted and kept on, but the machine spit out a slip of receipt paper. He stopped. The paper moved in and out of the slot repeatedly, as if impatient. He pulled it out and read.
FIRST GET AWAY FROM THE CAMERA.
Mohinder sheepishly set off on his way again, not that his way led anywhere in particular.
DO BETTER TO LAY LOW. BEEN TRACKING YOU FOR TWO DAYS.
BORDERWOOD PUBLIC LIBRARY. TOMORROW. 0915.
LOG INTO GMAIL ACCOUNT.
USER: PETE.BANNER0562
PW: X68MYRZ9AI
I WILL HELP YOU.
Mohinder's mind raced as he folded the paper and carefully tucked it into his pocket. He knew this could easily be a trap, but then again, why would the government be so elaborate when they could have taken him down then and there? It was possible his hopes were being answered... by a stranger through a glorified vending machine.
He wasn't inundated with options at the moment, so he'd have to set his skepticism aside and see where the instructions led. He got directions to Borderwood at a convenience store, and it turned out it was just the next town over. The 45-minute walk should have felt brief and easy, if not for the resurgence of his headache and his exhaustion.
Mohinder could hardly sleep that night. He couldn't afford the local motels, so he spent the hours huddled in a cluster of trees in a park near the library, fading into light dozes. When morning came he cleaned up in the bathroom of a gas station a block away, and bought some fresh fruit for breakfast at a local farmers' market. It tasted better than anything he'd eaten in days, though it did little to quell the pulsing pain behind his eyes. At 9:10 he went into the library.
It was quiet, naturally. An elderly librarian shuffled around behind the front desk. He smiled at her, earning only an unimpressed look in return, and scribbled nonsense on the computer sign-in sheet before taking a station. He logged into the email account, but there was no mail, only the already-read introductory message. He waited, and as the clock in the corner of the screen flicked to 9:15, a chat module popped up in the window. The other person was labeled "rebel."
rebel: GOOD TO SEE YOU MADE IT, DOCTOR.
Mohinder glanced back at the librarian, but she was far more concerned with several stacks of books at her counter. He typed back.
me: Who are you?
rebel: A FRIEND.
me: Forgive me for preferring something more concrete.
rebel: DISCRETION IS EVERYONE'S FRIEND RIGHT NOW.
me: I suppose that's fair. What do you want with me?
rebel: I DON'T WANT ANYTHING.
I TOLD YOU I WANT TO HELP.
me: That's how it always starts.
rebel: I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU CAN'T TRUST ME, BUT I'M ALL YOU'VE GOT.
Mohinder had already begrudgingly acknowledged that truth. He couldn't afford to hem and haw.
me: Can you at least switch off your capslock?
rebel: WHY?
me: I'm finding it difficult to confer with someone who alternately appears to be yelling at me or to be a computer.
rebel: lol
okay. how's this?
Mohinder snorted. "Smartass," he muttered under his breath.
me: Very cute.
rebel: :)
i have a place where you can lay low for a while.
me: There's something you should know about me.
rebel: i know you're pregnant.
Mohinder gaped at the screen. Who was this person?
me: How could you know?
rebel: i remotely cleared out your laptop when the agents were trying to crack it.
i copied everything for you but erased it for them.
sorry i snooped. sometimes it's hard to filter.
Mohinder hadn't thought about his research at all since his abduction, but it made sense. They had probably ransacked the loft and his entire apartment, taken everything...
me: It's all right. You should know anyway if you really want to help.
rebel: i do. i promise.
me: So you have a plan?
rebel: you're going to connect with maya herrara.
That was instantly more problematic than Rebel knowing Mohinder's secret.
me: That's impossible.
rebel: maya knows you. you can trust her.
me: She can't trust me.
You must know that too, if you've seen everything.
rebel: everyone deserves a second chance. and i know you're a good person.
when we're scared sometimes we do bad things.
me: You're young, aren't you?
rebel: i'm old enough.
me: Maya will not want to see me.
rebel: she already agreed to meet with you at least
me: Did you tell her about my condition?
rebel: no.
that's up to you.
me: What did you say that would make her agree to see me?
rebel: we are all being hunted. gives a new perspective.
me: There is no reason for her to abandon a life of safety.
rebel: she's being hunted too.
me: What are you talking about?
rebel: nathan petrelli knows that it's possible to restore powers, even if that formula is lost.
why take the risk with a power like she had?
and if they want to get rid of others' powers, why not use her for study?
Unbelievable. Even without her ability, Maya couldn't get the happy ending she deserved. And Mohinder had to acknowledge that if he hadn't taken her to Pinehearst, Nathan wouldn't even know about her.
rebel: she'll be waiting for you tomorrow at the redwood mall.
food court at noon.
it's not that far, but it will take most of the day.
can you make it?
me: My choices are limited.
rebel: then you should get moving again.
i need to go.
me: Thank you for your help, and for taking care of my research.
rebel: :)
i'll be in touch. good luck.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder saw Maya before she saw him. She sat at the edge of the food court, her straight black hair a little longer than when he last saw her. She looked in better shape than he felt; her clothes weren't shoddly and wrinkled, and while he saw trepidation crease her brow when she turned her head, she didn't seem exhausted. Frankly, Mohinder was paranoid that mall security would mistake him for a homeless man and throw him out.
Maya tensed visibly when she spotted him, and he avoided her gaze even as he sat opposite her, afraid she would just up and leave at any moment. A half-eaten calzone sat on a plate in front of her.
"Hello," she said, without feeling.
"Hello," he replied to the table.
"You seem... well." Mohinder finally lifted his eyes to give her a skeptical look, and she ignored it with her own skepticism. "This 'Rebel' says you were able to reverse what you did to yourself, that you are back to normal."
"I wrote you in May," Mohinder started, "to tell you about how--"
"Yes," she interrupted. "This person says he confirmed it." She hesitated, mulling over her next words before spitting them out. "I wish you hadn't written. I asked you to stay away."
He wrung his hands under the table. "You needed to know about what happened with Arthur Petrelli, and that I wasn't... wasn't doing those things to other people."
"And that your relationship with me was based on hormones and chemicals?"
"Wh-what? I did not say--"
"You explained how your behavior was affected by that serum, how it changed brain chemicals. You expect me to believe I was exempt from that?"
"I didn't just--"
"Pheromones! For goodness' sake, you talked about pheromones!"
"P-possible pheromones," Mohinder broke in. "And I just meant that, that I-I usually don't just jump into... into things like I did with you. I still feel... I mean..." He pulled at his hair. "Do we have to talk about this now?
A moment passed, and she pushed the rest of her food at him. "I lied. You look terrible."
He laughed awkwardly. He didn't take the calzone. The dough, cheese, and sauce looked delicious, and the smell did not make him nauseous, but even in this situation it felt wrong to take something from her.
She pushed it toward him again and bowed her head to catch his eye. "Mohinder, eat it."
He gave in with a quick thanks. He must have looked disgusting devouring it with his hands, but she didn't say anything until he finished.
"Rebel says I should stay with you through this."
Mohinder wiped his mouth and hands with cheap brown napkins. "Traveling in groups is favorable."
"He said you had something to tell me."
Mohinder's insides clenched. He'd thought he could bring up his condition to Maya on his own time, but maybe Rebel knew him better, knew he wouldn't have the courage to say anything before his stomach popped out. He dropped the crumpled napkins to the table and his hands to his lap, and he tried to think of the words. He could only imagine what she thought he'd say after the horrible things she'd seen him do. He wondered if she'd even believe him. He leaned toward her a little, eyes on the table, and said quietly, "I... I didn't mention in the letter how I was... susceptible to..."
She caught his eyes again, no doubt trying to see if he was being honest. He swallowed hard and locked his gaze with hers. "I'm going to give birth, Maya."
Her eyes widened immediately. "What?" she said. "To... to a baby?!"
"If all goes well," he said, drawing back with his arms crossed. He caught the disturbed change in her expression. "There's really no way for me to know if the serum affected it. I couldn't just go to a hospital and ask them to check."
"You don't even know if it's... How do you know if you're pregnant at all?" she asked quietly, looking around. "Maybe it's just..."
He smiled wryly. "I was doing blood tests on myself to be sure that everything was back to normal after the formula. There's a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin that is produced during pregnancy. Every test I did, it was there, and I couldn't find any other explanation for it. And I've been vomiting, gaining weight, getting headaches..."
Maya hesitated. "Is it... Could it be mine?"
He shook his head. "That's not possible. I would have had to draw your eggs from your body without you realizing it. Or without me realizing it. It would've required some... anatomical logistics."
Her shocked expression flattened. "So you were involved with someone else."
"It wasn't anything like it was with you!" he said quickly. Good god, this conversation was a minefield. "This had far more to do with hormones than what we had."
She shook her head. "You really want to believe that."
"I didn't use you--"
"I know you didn't! I just..." She shook her head again and stood up. "Rebel got us bus tickets to North Dakota," she said. "He has a plan from there, but he wants to go step-by-step."
"Okay," Mohinder said carefully, getting up from his seat as well.
"We have time to get you cleaned up in my motel room before we leave," she said, walking off.
@ @ @ @ @
When they arrived at the bus station, "Pilar Juarez" was paged to Information. Maya responded to the name, and the counter girl apologized for the confusion about the tickets they allegedly picked up earlier. She took their passes to Bismarck and handed them tickets to Ames, Iowa.
They got onto that bus without incident, though Mohinder expected the lot to be swarmed by men in black uniforms carrying guns at any moment. It felt like he held his breath until the driver announced they'd passed into Utah.
He and Maya spoke very little during the trip, and Rebel did not contact them again until the Ames station, when Pilar Juarez was paged again to pick up a package. The package held four hundred dollars, two sets of keys, and a note that simply said 346. One of the sets of keys was for a car, so it was little surprise when they used it to open a sedan in spot 346 in the parking lot. It was a beat up thing with rusted paint and a cranky engine, but it started.
Unsure where to go from there, Mohinder opened the glove box expecting a map, but instead he found a GPS. He plugged it into the cigarette lighter and turned it on. An address was already loaded and a pleasant female voice began to direct them. They drove almost an hour, passing through tiny towns, then farmland, and then into a forest area, where eventually the GPS directed them off the main road. They drove deeper into the woodland, turning now and then.
"I hope we don't lose the signal out here," Maya muttered as she made another left.
Trees tightly lined the gravel road, and with the day's fading light Mohinder almost didn't see the house when they passed the dirt driveway. Maya backed up and turned onto the property, rolling through a layer of dead leaves to a stop in front of the buckled garage. The house was two stories and painted a pale blue, coated with a layer of dirt. It didn't look like anyone had lived there in a few years. Maya turned off the engine but left the lights on, and Mohinder stowed the GPS back where he'd found it. They cautiously got out of the car and approached the porch.
"Horror movies come to mind," Maya said nervously. With the sun going down behind the house, its windows looked black, and its shadow stretched over them to the still tree line.
They stepped over the broken first step and up to the door. Maya pulled the second set of keys from the envelope, and the first one she tried let them inside into a dark foyer. Mohinder squinted at the wall as he felt for a switch, and when he found it only a single light came on overhead.
"It's very homey," he commented, noting the near-emptiness of the rooms to their immediate right and left. He could see a couch and a rocking chair in the room on the left, and a rolltop desk in the room on the right. A staircase ahead of them led up, with a small hallway tucked beside it, leading to a door with a frosted glass window.
"I was hoping we'd meet up with others," Maya said, peeking into the room on the left.
"Maybe more will come later."
"Maybe not," she said, moving across the entryway to look in the opposite room. "It's probably better to keep your pregnancy a secret."
Pregnancy. It was so odd to hear that term. Mohinder tended to think of it as more a condition than anything, but that was too clinical, wasn't it?
Maya hushed him even though he hadn't said anything. "I see a light," she whispered, motioning for him to come over. He carefully poked his head into the room. It held nothing more than the desk, but at the far end, a door led deeper into the house. A white-blue light glowed from underneath it.
"It's supposed to be safe," Mohinder said, trying to convince himself Rebel knew what he was doing.
"But who is it?" Maya said.
"We were making enough noise before for someone to hear."
After a moment, she approached the door. "Hello?" she called. There was no reply or other sound. The light didn't flicker. Maya went closer and called again, and when there was still no response, she opened the door. Mohinder tensed, not sure what to expect, but Maya only sighed. "Come on," she said, going through the doorway.
Mohinder followed. The glow came from a laptop set up on a card table with a folding chair on either side. A word processing program displayed a note for them:
SET THIS UP WHILE PASSING THROUGH.
YOU HAVE AN ONLINE ACCOUNT FOR A GROCERY STORE TO GET FOOD DELIVERED. DO IT ONCE A WEEK. I'LL TAKE CARE OF THE COST.
THE INTERNET CONNECTION IS ENCRYPTED, BUT USE IT SPARINGLY.
GO OUT AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE.
BE READY TO LEAVE AT ANY TIME.
I'LL CHECK IN WHEN I CAN
- R
"It really is just us," Maya said.
Mohinder tried to ignore the disappointment in her voice. "Let's look around," he said.
The next room was the kitchen, set between the room with the laptop (a dining room, Mohinder guessed) and the room holding the couch. Rebel had left them other things there, like milk and eggs in the fridge, and a few boxes of rice and cans of soup in one of the cabinets. Mohinder suspected, though, that much of what was left in the house was from the previous owners. When searching the kitchen, he and Maya also found a couple pots and a sauce pan, and some spotted silverware and some other utensils along with plates.
Upstairs there were two bedrooms, each with a bed, both mattresses bare. The master bedroom had a large closet with sliding door, a bureau, a wicker chair, and a lamp with a burnt out bulb sitting on the floor. They could see the front yard through its bay window. The smaller bedroom looked over the backyard and had only a small closet, a dresser, and a stand-alone mirror. Another room took up the remaining front corner of the floor, but it was empty.
The first floor had a tiny closet of a bathroom in the desk room. It had only a toilet and a sink and no amenities. The second floor bathroom, however, was bigger. Its sink was set in a full counter with cabinets underneath, and besides a toilet, it had a shower stall built into the corner with an old claw-footed tub pushed over by the window. Piled in the sink were a six-bar pack of soap, a bottle of combination shampoo-conditioner, shaving cream, and a pack of razors. Two folded towels and a roll of toilet paper sat on the counter.
Maya handed Mohinder the pack of razors. "I don't think there's much more to see. Why don't you take care of your beard and I'll make us something to eat?"
"Is that a suggestion or a demand?" Mohinder asked.
She finally smiled at him before she patted his grizzled cheek and went downstairs.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder did feel a tad better with a fresh shave, despite the minor amusement at having to use women's shaving cream and the brief disgust at having to let the water run until it turned from murky to clear. When he got downstairs, he saw Maya had the same issue in the kitchen, but by the time he set their sparse places by the laptop in the next room (propping open the door into the kitchen so they wouldn't have just the blue light to eat by), she was able to fill a pot and start it boiling for a box of chicken-flavored rice.
While he waited, Mohinder checked out the garage, which was connected by a narrow hallway to the kitchen. The garage looked just as damaged inside as it had looked when they pulled up. A tree limb must have fallen onto the roof, punching a hole through it. There didn't appear to be any working light, since the switch by the door did nothing. It was just as well, since although he could see only a rusted metal rake lying at the foot of the short wood staircase, the place reeked of mold. After that, he went onto the front porch to check out the yard again, but the sun had gone completely and Maya had turned off the car lights. The idea of wandering from the sanctuary of the porch light made him nervous.
Maya called him when the rice was finished, and they ate amiably enough, half the time in quiet and the other half coming up with items for their grocery order (definitely more toilet paper and cleaning supplies). The idea of a stranger coming to the house didn't sound safe, but then again, it sounded better than regularly traveling into the public eye.
When they finished, the laptop clock said it was almost nine, but having a safehouse after nearly a week on the move made Mohinder want to do nothing but sleep. Maya felt the same, and after Mohinder rinsed off their plates they headed upstairs.
Of the two bedrooms, Mohinder took the smaller before it could come up for discussion. The bed was by the window, so as he laid back on the cool mattress he could see the tops of the trees and the clear dark sky. He stared in quiet for a long time, listening and hearing not even the house creak, until finally his mind drifted somewhere free of worry.
"Mohinder."
He nearly scrambled out the window when he saw the dark shape in the doorway, but it quickly moved forward. "I'm sorry!" Maya said. "It's just me!"
He clutched at his heart. "You walk softly," he said, trying to laugh.
"This house isn't very welcoming," she said.
"I'm sure once we get settled in, it'll be fine."
She nodded, but she came closer. "Do you mind if... just for tonight?"
"Not at all."
It felt awkward at first, as they laid flat on their backs, side by side. But eventually Maya fell asleep, her arm pressed against his, and he found that blurry state of mind again.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder woke up and Maya wasn't there. He sat up and looked out the window. In the morning light, the property didn't look much better. Even with the healthy green of the surrounding trees, the dead brown leaves carpeting the ground reminded him they were isolated, hidden away.
He went downstairs and called for Maya, but she didn't answer. He wandered through the house, seeing no one, and then he reached the room where the laptop had been. Only now nothing sat on the table. He stared at the empty spot and quickly moved on, calling for Maya again. The house was empty.
He hurried outside, and the car was gone too, with not even a tire trail in the crinkled leaves. He stood in the middle of the yard, frozen in panic. He'd been abandoned, even by the birds it seemed. He could hear nothing, not even a rustle of leaves.
Until the familiar click-zip-buzz of an electrode planting into the center of his back, and he fell to the ground. He didn't even feel the pain, only the horror welling in his chest as he took in the line of soldiers on the porch, all with their guns trained on him. How was it possible he didn't hear them?
The two in the center moved aside as the short, bald man who'd come for him in New York stepped out of the house. He locked Mohinder in a pleased, predatory gaze and raised his hand, readying the signal to fire.
Something stirred inside Mohinder, and for a moment he thought it was the electric current coursing through the fetus, but that was impossible. It was too early for it to be that large, to move like that. And then the men dropped, one by one, howls muffled by their masks. They grabbed at their throats, their heads, their guts, and the black of their clothing deepened with blood that dripped thick and slow down their bodies and off the porch. The lead hunter did not move from his spot, but his head dipped, fell, right off his shoulders, bumping down the steps and rolling to a stop just a few feet from where Mohinder was sprawled.
Mohinder's mind scrambled to understand what was happening, but his insides stirred again, twisting him up. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to wish away the horrible sensation of something pushing outwards. He pulled up his shirt and screamed when he saw something moving purposefully under his flesh.
But his stomach didn't burst; it opened with a clean slice and a spray of blood.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder woke up and Maya wasn't there. Her name exploded from his lungs. He clutched at his flat stomach.
A clamor sounded on the stairs and Maya appeared breathlessly in the doorway. "What is it?" she asked, eyes wide. She looked left and right, her ponytail swinging behind her head. A spatula was pressed between her hand and the doorframe.
Mohinder tried to swallow. "I... I thought you..." The dream played over and over, and a sour taste crept up his throat. He lurched off the bed and stumbled past Maya to the bathroom. He heard her follow as he vomited bitter bile and bits of the previous night's dinner into the toilet.
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer, because he didn't know what to say. He couldn't accuse her of wanting to leave, afraid of giving her ideas or pushing her away or just confirming his fear. And he couldn't talk to her about the other who had a hand in creating what was growing inside him. He slowly eased back from the toilet bowl, resting against the shower stall.
Maya suddenly straightened, sniffing the air. "Ah! The stove!" She held out her hand awkwardly, as if to stop him from moving. "I'll be right back!"
Five minutes later, she came back with a plate of slightly burnt scrambled eggs with a side of the rice from the night before. "Can you eat this?" she asked.
"I'll try," he mumbled, and thanked her as she handed over the plate with a fork.
She settled on the linoleum and watched him bring bits of egg to his mouth. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I'm an early riser. Not that I could sleep very well."
"You don't have to apologize to me," he said quickly. "It was only a nightmare."
"Only," she said skeptically. "What was it about?"
"I was captured again." He put down the plate. "I'm sorry; it's very good, but--"
"It's okay." She picked at the food herself. "I checked the grocery site. If we put in an order this morning they can get it here before dinner time. In the meantime we can run somewhere and grab some clothes."
"Is that a good idea?"
"What else are we supposed to do? Walk around like Adam and Eve?" Mohinder felt his face flush, and Maya laughed.
@ @ @ @ @
A couple hours later, they were in the car and on their way north to an outlet mall Maya had found online. They decided against using the GPS and had handwritten directions instead. (They'd also disconnected the internet on the laptop.) Mohinder had thought maybe they could just pick up the food when they were out, but the supermarket Rebel had chosen was about an hour south of the house.
Mohinder and Maya agreed on a half-hour in the discount clothing store and no more, but Mohinder found himself blindly flipping through the racks. He couldn't stop thinking about the nightmare, though now he saw it in a different light. Would it really be such a betrayal if Maya left? Rebel had essentially asked her to babysit Mohinder, to hold his hand as his condition progressed. But why should she, for any reason other than pity? The further the pregnancy went along, the more difficult it would be for Mohinder to go back on the run when the need arose. It only put Maya more at risk.
"Do they not have your size?" she asked, walking over from the women's section. She'd thrown her choices into a cart-- a few pairs of pants and shorts, several plain shirts, and pack of socks and underwear, as well as a few bras. Mohinder held only a couple of t-shirts.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not thinking."
Maya didn't bother to hide her annoyance and flipped through the racks quickly, holding up clothing now and then for his approval. In fifteen minutes his pile of clothing was as large as hers, with some larger-sized items for the future. They paid and carried their bags back to the car, and she made him wait while she ran to a nearby linen store. She came out ten minutes later with one large bag stuffed with two pillows and packs of sheets and another large bag with two rolled-up fleece blankets. Mohinder could see orange clearance stickers on most of the packages through the thin plastic.
Once she settled in the driver's seat, Maya tossed him a candy bar. "Well, that's the last of our money," she said, tearing open her own bar. "We'll have to see if Rebel can give us some sort of allowance for other things that may not be at the grocery store."
Mohinder turned the candy over in his hands. "I'm sorry I'm so useless."
"You have a lot to think about," she said automatically.
"We both do," he said.
"I'm not going to argue about how you should feel," she sighed. "It's okay, really."
"No, it's not," he said. "You don't have to feel obligated to stay with me. I know you'd rather not."
She stared at him stonily. "Oh, you know how I feel, hm?"
"Why would you want to stay after everything that happened?" He dropped his candy bar into the cup holder. "If you want to leave me, you should go. Or, no, I'll go. I'll get Rebel to make other arrange--"
"Mohinder, shut up," she snapped.
"Maya--"
"No, shut up. Put on your seatbelt, and shut up. You're being ridiculous."
"Why should you--"
"I'm here because I chose to be here!" she exploded. "I am not leaving you by yourself!" She braced one hand on the steering wheel, knuckles turning pale. "And I am not letting you tell me any different! Now put on your belt!"
Mohinder sank into his seat and pulled the belt across his chest. Maybe talking was just an overall bad idea.
Series: Heroes
Pairing: Mylar
Rating: R
Warnings: Mpreg! BS science! Fairly dark! Consent issues!
Summary: After being doused with the complete formula, Mohinder copes with a lingering side effect as he and everyone around him try to rebuild their lives and their trust.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Loneliness was not new to Mohinder in America. From desperately trying to get people to take his father's theories seriously when he first came to New York, to separating from Matt and Molly while working with Bennet against Primatech, to the experimental horror that drove away Maya and led him to toil under Arthur Petrelli's employ, he'd constantly tried to make human connections that would last, that he couldn't ruin.
Being on the run wasn't any different, and his condition-- a new life improbably growing inside of him-- ironically made him feel all the more alone. He not only couldn't stay with Peter and Matt, but on strange streets he was responsible not just for his own well-being but the well-being of another, who was far more fragile. There was no one he could go to for help, because everyone he knew in America was involved in the abductions, and it was impossible to fly home. Even calling home would put Molly at risk.
He kept on the move, stretching out the money Peter had given him as much as he could. He had a half-baked idea about finding some isolated shack in the woods to hide in, but that wouldn't help him get food, and what was he going to do as the pregnancy progressed? Currently, he only suffered from headaches, but he knew as time went on it would be more difficult to cope with the symptoms.
On his fourth day alone, around twilight, Mohinder walked on an unpopulated main street in a well-to-do Nevada town, weighing the option of prostituting himself to survive while he still looked normal, albeit sprouting a poor-looking beard. As he walked by an ATM, the screen flashed, drawing his gaze. "THE ULTIMATE GETAWAY!" it declared beside a pixelated palm tree. Mohinder snorted and kept on, but the machine spit out a slip of receipt paper. He stopped. The paper moved in and out of the slot repeatedly, as if impatient. He pulled it out and read.
FIRST GET AWAY FROM THE CAMERA.
Mohinder sheepishly set off on his way again, not that his way led anywhere in particular.
DO BETTER TO LAY LOW. BEEN TRACKING YOU FOR TWO DAYS.
BORDERWOOD PUBLIC LIBRARY. TOMORROW. 0915.
LOG INTO GMAIL ACCOUNT.
USER: PETE.BANNER0562
PW: X68MYRZ9AI
I WILL HELP YOU.
Mohinder's mind raced as he folded the paper and carefully tucked it into his pocket. He knew this could easily be a trap, but then again, why would the government be so elaborate when they could have taken him down then and there? It was possible his hopes were being answered... by a stranger through a glorified vending machine.
He wasn't inundated with options at the moment, so he'd have to set his skepticism aside and see where the instructions led. He got directions to Borderwood at a convenience store, and it turned out it was just the next town over. The 45-minute walk should have felt brief and easy, if not for the resurgence of his headache and his exhaustion.
Mohinder could hardly sleep that night. He couldn't afford the local motels, so he spent the hours huddled in a cluster of trees in a park near the library, fading into light dozes. When morning came he cleaned up in the bathroom of a gas station a block away, and bought some fresh fruit for breakfast at a local farmers' market. It tasted better than anything he'd eaten in days, though it did little to quell the pulsing pain behind his eyes. At 9:10 he went into the library.
It was quiet, naturally. An elderly librarian shuffled around behind the front desk. He smiled at her, earning only an unimpressed look in return, and scribbled nonsense on the computer sign-in sheet before taking a station. He logged into the email account, but there was no mail, only the already-read introductory message. He waited, and as the clock in the corner of the screen flicked to 9:15, a chat module popped up in the window. The other person was labeled "rebel."
rebel: GOOD TO SEE YOU MADE IT, DOCTOR.
Mohinder glanced back at the librarian, but she was far more concerned with several stacks of books at her counter. He typed back.
me: Who are you?
rebel: A FRIEND.
me: Forgive me for preferring something more concrete.
rebel: DISCRETION IS EVERYONE'S FRIEND RIGHT NOW.
me: I suppose that's fair. What do you want with me?
rebel: I DON'T WANT ANYTHING.
I TOLD YOU I WANT TO HELP.
me: That's how it always starts.
rebel: I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU CAN'T TRUST ME, BUT I'M ALL YOU'VE GOT.
Mohinder had already begrudgingly acknowledged that truth. He couldn't afford to hem and haw.
me: Can you at least switch off your capslock?
rebel: WHY?
me: I'm finding it difficult to confer with someone who alternately appears to be yelling at me or to be a computer.
rebel: lol
okay. how's this?
Mohinder snorted. "Smartass," he muttered under his breath.
me: Very cute.
rebel: :)
i have a place where you can lay low for a while.
me: There's something you should know about me.
rebel: i know you're pregnant.
Mohinder gaped at the screen. Who was this person?
me: How could you know?
rebel: i remotely cleared out your laptop when the agents were trying to crack it.
i copied everything for you but erased it for them.
sorry i snooped. sometimes it's hard to filter.
Mohinder hadn't thought about his research at all since his abduction, but it made sense. They had probably ransacked the loft and his entire apartment, taken everything...
me: It's all right. You should know anyway if you really want to help.
rebel: i do. i promise.
me: So you have a plan?
rebel: you're going to connect with maya herrara.
That was instantly more problematic than Rebel knowing Mohinder's secret.
me: That's impossible.
rebel: maya knows you. you can trust her.
me: She can't trust me.
You must know that too, if you've seen everything.
rebel: everyone deserves a second chance. and i know you're a good person.
when we're scared sometimes we do bad things.
me: You're young, aren't you?
rebel: i'm old enough.
me: Maya will not want to see me.
rebel: she already agreed to meet with you at least
me: Did you tell her about my condition?
rebel: no.
that's up to you.
me: What did you say that would make her agree to see me?
rebel: we are all being hunted. gives a new perspective.
me: There is no reason for her to abandon a life of safety.
rebel: she's being hunted too.
me: What are you talking about?
rebel: nathan petrelli knows that it's possible to restore powers, even if that formula is lost.
why take the risk with a power like she had?
and if they want to get rid of others' powers, why not use her for study?
Unbelievable. Even without her ability, Maya couldn't get the happy ending she deserved. And Mohinder had to acknowledge that if he hadn't taken her to Pinehearst, Nathan wouldn't even know about her.
rebel: she'll be waiting for you tomorrow at the redwood mall.
food court at noon.
it's not that far, but it will take most of the day.
can you make it?
me: My choices are limited.
rebel: then you should get moving again.
i need to go.
me: Thank you for your help, and for taking care of my research.
rebel: :)
i'll be in touch. good luck.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder saw Maya before she saw him. She sat at the edge of the food court, her straight black hair a little longer than when he last saw her. She looked in better shape than he felt; her clothes weren't shoddly and wrinkled, and while he saw trepidation crease her brow when she turned her head, she didn't seem exhausted. Frankly, Mohinder was paranoid that mall security would mistake him for a homeless man and throw him out.
Maya tensed visibly when she spotted him, and he avoided her gaze even as he sat opposite her, afraid she would just up and leave at any moment. A half-eaten calzone sat on a plate in front of her.
"Hello," she said, without feeling.
"Hello," he replied to the table.
"You seem... well." Mohinder finally lifted his eyes to give her a skeptical look, and she ignored it with her own skepticism. "This 'Rebel' says you were able to reverse what you did to yourself, that you are back to normal."
"I wrote you in May," Mohinder started, "to tell you about how--"
"Yes," she interrupted. "This person says he confirmed it." She hesitated, mulling over her next words before spitting them out. "I wish you hadn't written. I asked you to stay away."
He wrung his hands under the table. "You needed to know about what happened with Arthur Petrelli, and that I wasn't... wasn't doing those things to other people."
"And that your relationship with me was based on hormones and chemicals?"
"Wh-what? I did not say--"
"You explained how your behavior was affected by that serum, how it changed brain chemicals. You expect me to believe I was exempt from that?"
"I didn't just--"
"Pheromones! For goodness' sake, you talked about pheromones!"
"P-possible pheromones," Mohinder broke in. "And I just meant that, that I-I usually don't just jump into... into things like I did with you. I still feel... I mean..." He pulled at his hair. "Do we have to talk about this now?
A moment passed, and she pushed the rest of her food at him. "I lied. You look terrible."
He laughed awkwardly. He didn't take the calzone. The dough, cheese, and sauce looked delicious, and the smell did not make him nauseous, but even in this situation it felt wrong to take something from her.
She pushed it toward him again and bowed her head to catch his eye. "Mohinder, eat it."
He gave in with a quick thanks. He must have looked disgusting devouring it with his hands, but she didn't say anything until he finished.
"Rebel says I should stay with you through this."
Mohinder wiped his mouth and hands with cheap brown napkins. "Traveling in groups is favorable."
"He said you had something to tell me."
Mohinder's insides clenched. He'd thought he could bring up his condition to Maya on his own time, but maybe Rebel knew him better, knew he wouldn't have the courage to say anything before his stomach popped out. He dropped the crumpled napkins to the table and his hands to his lap, and he tried to think of the words. He could only imagine what she thought he'd say after the horrible things she'd seen him do. He wondered if she'd even believe him. He leaned toward her a little, eyes on the table, and said quietly, "I... I didn't mention in the letter how I was... susceptible to..."
She caught his eyes again, no doubt trying to see if he was being honest. He swallowed hard and locked his gaze with hers. "I'm going to give birth, Maya."
Her eyes widened immediately. "What?" she said. "To... to a baby?!"
"If all goes well," he said, drawing back with his arms crossed. He caught the disturbed change in her expression. "There's really no way for me to know if the serum affected it. I couldn't just go to a hospital and ask them to check."
"You don't even know if it's... How do you know if you're pregnant at all?" she asked quietly, looking around. "Maybe it's just..."
He smiled wryly. "I was doing blood tests on myself to be sure that everything was back to normal after the formula. There's a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin that is produced during pregnancy. Every test I did, it was there, and I couldn't find any other explanation for it. And I've been vomiting, gaining weight, getting headaches..."
Maya hesitated. "Is it... Could it be mine?"
He shook his head. "That's not possible. I would have had to draw your eggs from your body without you realizing it. Or without me realizing it. It would've required some... anatomical logistics."
Her shocked expression flattened. "So you were involved with someone else."
"It wasn't anything like it was with you!" he said quickly. Good god, this conversation was a minefield. "This had far more to do with hormones than what we had."
She shook her head. "You really want to believe that."
"I didn't use you--"
"I know you didn't! I just..." She shook her head again and stood up. "Rebel got us bus tickets to North Dakota," she said. "He has a plan from there, but he wants to go step-by-step."
"Okay," Mohinder said carefully, getting up from his seat as well.
"We have time to get you cleaned up in my motel room before we leave," she said, walking off.
@ @ @ @ @
When they arrived at the bus station, "Pilar Juarez" was paged to Information. Maya responded to the name, and the counter girl apologized for the confusion about the tickets they allegedly picked up earlier. She took their passes to Bismarck and handed them tickets to Ames, Iowa.
They got onto that bus without incident, though Mohinder expected the lot to be swarmed by men in black uniforms carrying guns at any moment. It felt like he held his breath until the driver announced they'd passed into Utah.
He and Maya spoke very little during the trip, and Rebel did not contact them again until the Ames station, when Pilar Juarez was paged again to pick up a package. The package held four hundred dollars, two sets of keys, and a note that simply said 346. One of the sets of keys was for a car, so it was little surprise when they used it to open a sedan in spot 346 in the parking lot. It was a beat up thing with rusted paint and a cranky engine, but it started.
Unsure where to go from there, Mohinder opened the glove box expecting a map, but instead he found a GPS. He plugged it into the cigarette lighter and turned it on. An address was already loaded and a pleasant female voice began to direct them. They drove almost an hour, passing through tiny towns, then farmland, and then into a forest area, where eventually the GPS directed them off the main road. They drove deeper into the woodland, turning now and then.
"I hope we don't lose the signal out here," Maya muttered as she made another left.
Trees tightly lined the gravel road, and with the day's fading light Mohinder almost didn't see the house when they passed the dirt driveway. Maya backed up and turned onto the property, rolling through a layer of dead leaves to a stop in front of the buckled garage. The house was two stories and painted a pale blue, coated with a layer of dirt. It didn't look like anyone had lived there in a few years. Maya turned off the engine but left the lights on, and Mohinder stowed the GPS back where he'd found it. They cautiously got out of the car and approached the porch.
"Horror movies come to mind," Maya said nervously. With the sun going down behind the house, its windows looked black, and its shadow stretched over them to the still tree line.
They stepped over the broken first step and up to the door. Maya pulled the second set of keys from the envelope, and the first one she tried let them inside into a dark foyer. Mohinder squinted at the wall as he felt for a switch, and when he found it only a single light came on overhead.
"It's very homey," he commented, noting the near-emptiness of the rooms to their immediate right and left. He could see a couch and a rocking chair in the room on the left, and a rolltop desk in the room on the right. A staircase ahead of them led up, with a small hallway tucked beside it, leading to a door with a frosted glass window.
"I was hoping we'd meet up with others," Maya said, peeking into the room on the left.
"Maybe more will come later."
"Maybe not," she said, moving across the entryway to look in the opposite room. "It's probably better to keep your pregnancy a secret."
Pregnancy. It was so odd to hear that term. Mohinder tended to think of it as more a condition than anything, but that was too clinical, wasn't it?
Maya hushed him even though he hadn't said anything. "I see a light," she whispered, motioning for him to come over. He carefully poked his head into the room. It held nothing more than the desk, but at the far end, a door led deeper into the house. A white-blue light glowed from underneath it.
"It's supposed to be safe," Mohinder said, trying to convince himself Rebel knew what he was doing.
"But who is it?" Maya said.
"We were making enough noise before for someone to hear."
After a moment, she approached the door. "Hello?" she called. There was no reply or other sound. The light didn't flicker. Maya went closer and called again, and when there was still no response, she opened the door. Mohinder tensed, not sure what to expect, but Maya only sighed. "Come on," she said, going through the doorway.
Mohinder followed. The glow came from a laptop set up on a card table with a folding chair on either side. A word processing program displayed a note for them:
SET THIS UP WHILE PASSING THROUGH.
YOU HAVE AN ONLINE ACCOUNT FOR A GROCERY STORE TO GET FOOD DELIVERED. DO IT ONCE A WEEK. I'LL TAKE CARE OF THE COST.
THE INTERNET CONNECTION IS ENCRYPTED, BUT USE IT SPARINGLY.
GO OUT AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE.
BE READY TO LEAVE AT ANY TIME.
I'LL CHECK IN WHEN I CAN
- R
"It really is just us," Maya said.
Mohinder tried to ignore the disappointment in her voice. "Let's look around," he said.
The next room was the kitchen, set between the room with the laptop (a dining room, Mohinder guessed) and the room holding the couch. Rebel had left them other things there, like milk and eggs in the fridge, and a few boxes of rice and cans of soup in one of the cabinets. Mohinder suspected, though, that much of what was left in the house was from the previous owners. When searching the kitchen, he and Maya also found a couple pots and a sauce pan, and some spotted silverware and some other utensils along with plates.
Upstairs there were two bedrooms, each with a bed, both mattresses bare. The master bedroom had a large closet with sliding door, a bureau, a wicker chair, and a lamp with a burnt out bulb sitting on the floor. They could see the front yard through its bay window. The smaller bedroom looked over the backyard and had only a small closet, a dresser, and a stand-alone mirror. Another room took up the remaining front corner of the floor, but it was empty.
The first floor had a tiny closet of a bathroom in the desk room. It had only a toilet and a sink and no amenities. The second floor bathroom, however, was bigger. Its sink was set in a full counter with cabinets underneath, and besides a toilet, it had a shower stall built into the corner with an old claw-footed tub pushed over by the window. Piled in the sink were a six-bar pack of soap, a bottle of combination shampoo-conditioner, shaving cream, and a pack of razors. Two folded towels and a roll of toilet paper sat on the counter.
Maya handed Mohinder the pack of razors. "I don't think there's much more to see. Why don't you take care of your beard and I'll make us something to eat?"
"Is that a suggestion or a demand?" Mohinder asked.
She finally smiled at him before she patted his grizzled cheek and went downstairs.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder did feel a tad better with a fresh shave, despite the minor amusement at having to use women's shaving cream and the brief disgust at having to let the water run until it turned from murky to clear. When he got downstairs, he saw Maya had the same issue in the kitchen, but by the time he set their sparse places by the laptop in the next room (propping open the door into the kitchen so they wouldn't have just the blue light to eat by), she was able to fill a pot and start it boiling for a box of chicken-flavored rice.
While he waited, Mohinder checked out the garage, which was connected by a narrow hallway to the kitchen. The garage looked just as damaged inside as it had looked when they pulled up. A tree limb must have fallen onto the roof, punching a hole through it. There didn't appear to be any working light, since the switch by the door did nothing. It was just as well, since although he could see only a rusted metal rake lying at the foot of the short wood staircase, the place reeked of mold. After that, he went onto the front porch to check out the yard again, but the sun had gone completely and Maya had turned off the car lights. The idea of wandering from the sanctuary of the porch light made him nervous.
Maya called him when the rice was finished, and they ate amiably enough, half the time in quiet and the other half coming up with items for their grocery order (definitely more toilet paper and cleaning supplies). The idea of a stranger coming to the house didn't sound safe, but then again, it sounded better than regularly traveling into the public eye.
When they finished, the laptop clock said it was almost nine, but having a safehouse after nearly a week on the move made Mohinder want to do nothing but sleep. Maya felt the same, and after Mohinder rinsed off their plates they headed upstairs.
Of the two bedrooms, Mohinder took the smaller before it could come up for discussion. The bed was by the window, so as he laid back on the cool mattress he could see the tops of the trees and the clear dark sky. He stared in quiet for a long time, listening and hearing not even the house creak, until finally his mind drifted somewhere free of worry.
"Mohinder."
He nearly scrambled out the window when he saw the dark shape in the doorway, but it quickly moved forward. "I'm sorry!" Maya said. "It's just me!"
He clutched at his heart. "You walk softly," he said, trying to laugh.
"This house isn't very welcoming," she said.
"I'm sure once we get settled in, it'll be fine."
She nodded, but she came closer. "Do you mind if... just for tonight?"
"Not at all."
It felt awkward at first, as they laid flat on their backs, side by side. But eventually Maya fell asleep, her arm pressed against his, and he found that blurry state of mind again.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder woke up and Maya wasn't there. He sat up and looked out the window. In the morning light, the property didn't look much better. Even with the healthy green of the surrounding trees, the dead brown leaves carpeting the ground reminded him they were isolated, hidden away.
He went downstairs and called for Maya, but she didn't answer. He wandered through the house, seeing no one, and then he reached the room where the laptop had been. Only now nothing sat on the table. He stared at the empty spot and quickly moved on, calling for Maya again. The house was empty.
He hurried outside, and the car was gone too, with not even a tire trail in the crinkled leaves. He stood in the middle of the yard, frozen in panic. He'd been abandoned, even by the birds it seemed. He could hear nothing, not even a rustle of leaves.
Until the familiar click-zip-buzz of an electrode planting into the center of his back, and he fell to the ground. He didn't even feel the pain, only the horror welling in his chest as he took in the line of soldiers on the porch, all with their guns trained on him. How was it possible he didn't hear them?
The two in the center moved aside as the short, bald man who'd come for him in New York stepped out of the house. He locked Mohinder in a pleased, predatory gaze and raised his hand, readying the signal to fire.
Something stirred inside Mohinder, and for a moment he thought it was the electric current coursing through the fetus, but that was impossible. It was too early for it to be that large, to move like that. And then the men dropped, one by one, howls muffled by their masks. They grabbed at their throats, their heads, their guts, and the black of their clothing deepened with blood that dripped thick and slow down their bodies and off the porch. The lead hunter did not move from his spot, but his head dipped, fell, right off his shoulders, bumping down the steps and rolling to a stop just a few feet from where Mohinder was sprawled.
Mohinder's mind scrambled to understand what was happening, but his insides stirred again, twisting him up. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to wish away the horrible sensation of something pushing outwards. He pulled up his shirt and screamed when he saw something moving purposefully under his flesh.
But his stomach didn't burst; it opened with a clean slice and a spray of blood.
@ @ @ @ @
Mohinder woke up and Maya wasn't there. Her name exploded from his lungs. He clutched at his flat stomach.
A clamor sounded on the stairs and Maya appeared breathlessly in the doorway. "What is it?" she asked, eyes wide. She looked left and right, her ponytail swinging behind her head. A spatula was pressed between her hand and the doorframe.
Mohinder tried to swallow. "I... I thought you..." The dream played over and over, and a sour taste crept up his throat. He lurched off the bed and stumbled past Maya to the bathroom. He heard her follow as he vomited bitter bile and bits of the previous night's dinner into the toilet.
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer, because he didn't know what to say. He couldn't accuse her of wanting to leave, afraid of giving her ideas or pushing her away or just confirming his fear. And he couldn't talk to her about the other who had a hand in creating what was growing inside him. He slowly eased back from the toilet bowl, resting against the shower stall.
Maya suddenly straightened, sniffing the air. "Ah! The stove!" She held out her hand awkwardly, as if to stop him from moving. "I'll be right back!"
Five minutes later, she came back with a plate of slightly burnt scrambled eggs with a side of the rice from the night before. "Can you eat this?" she asked.
"I'll try," he mumbled, and thanked her as she handed over the plate with a fork.
She settled on the linoleum and watched him bring bits of egg to his mouth. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I'm an early riser. Not that I could sleep very well."
"You don't have to apologize to me," he said quickly. "It was only a nightmare."
"Only," she said skeptically. "What was it about?"
"I was captured again." He put down the plate. "I'm sorry; it's very good, but--"
"It's okay." She picked at the food herself. "I checked the grocery site. If we put in an order this morning they can get it here before dinner time. In the meantime we can run somewhere and grab some clothes."
"Is that a good idea?"
"What else are we supposed to do? Walk around like Adam and Eve?" Mohinder felt his face flush, and Maya laughed.
@ @ @ @ @
A couple hours later, they were in the car and on their way north to an outlet mall Maya had found online. They decided against using the GPS and had handwritten directions instead. (They'd also disconnected the internet on the laptop.) Mohinder had thought maybe they could just pick up the food when they were out, but the supermarket Rebel had chosen was about an hour south of the house.
Mohinder and Maya agreed on a half-hour in the discount clothing store and no more, but Mohinder found himself blindly flipping through the racks. He couldn't stop thinking about the nightmare, though now he saw it in a different light. Would it really be such a betrayal if Maya left? Rebel had essentially asked her to babysit Mohinder, to hold his hand as his condition progressed. But why should she, for any reason other than pity? The further the pregnancy went along, the more difficult it would be for Mohinder to go back on the run when the need arose. It only put Maya more at risk.
"Do they not have your size?" she asked, walking over from the women's section. She'd thrown her choices into a cart-- a few pairs of pants and shorts, several plain shirts, and pack of socks and underwear, as well as a few bras. Mohinder held only a couple of t-shirts.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not thinking."
Maya didn't bother to hide her annoyance and flipped through the racks quickly, holding up clothing now and then for his approval. In fifteen minutes his pile of clothing was as large as hers, with some larger-sized items for the future. They paid and carried their bags back to the car, and she made him wait while she ran to a nearby linen store. She came out ten minutes later with one large bag stuffed with two pillows and packs of sheets and another large bag with two rolled-up fleece blankets. Mohinder could see orange clearance stickers on most of the packages through the thin plastic.
Once she settled in the driver's seat, Maya tossed him a candy bar. "Well, that's the last of our money," she said, tearing open her own bar. "We'll have to see if Rebel can give us some sort of allowance for other things that may not be at the grocery store."
Mohinder turned the candy over in his hands. "I'm sorry I'm so useless."
"You have a lot to think about," she said automatically.
"We both do," he said.
"I'm not going to argue about how you should feel," she sighed. "It's okay, really."
"No, it's not," he said. "You don't have to feel obligated to stay with me. I know you'd rather not."
She stared at him stonily. "Oh, you know how I feel, hm?"
"Why would you want to stay after everything that happened?" He dropped his candy bar into the cup holder. "If you want to leave me, you should go. Or, no, I'll go. I'll get Rebel to make other arrange--"
"Mohinder, shut up," she snapped.
"Maya--"
"No, shut up. Put on your seatbelt, and shut up. You're being ridiculous."
"Why should you--"
"I'm here because I chose to be here!" she exploded. "I am not leaving you by yourself!" She braced one hand on the steering wheel, knuckles turning pale. "And I am not letting you tell me any different! Now put on your belt!"
Mohinder sank into his seat and pulled the belt across his chest. Maybe talking was just an overall bad idea.