aunt_zelda | The Quiet Life (Reply)

Title: The Quiet Life

Rating: R. Non-con (not descriptive, but it’s there, towards the end.)

Pairings: Non-con Mylar … for now …

Warnings: If you haven’t watched all of Season 1 of Heroes, you shouldn’t be here, you should wait and watch the DVDs!

Disclaimer: Uh … obviously I don’t own Heroes, because if I did, I’d have the Mywalker family on screen eventually …

Summary: Sylar threatens Molly to get ~~some Mohinder lovin’~~ the List but some weird guys burst in and Sylar takes Mohinder and Molly on a wacky road trip that leads to smut.

My Thoughts: This will become my ideal map for season 2 and onward. Hiro’s probably in past Japan or something, and the rest of the cast are working on the guy worse than Sylar. But Sylar, Mohinder, and Molly are traveling the world on their own, and gradually Sylar becomes Gabriel without a mind wipe and when they return at the beginning of the imagined season 3 he’s a good guy. With some major anti-hero qualities. But it’ll be dark, disturbing, and scary for a while.

“Hello, Mohinder,” Sylar smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

Mohinder felt like his soul had taken an icy shower. “Molly … go to your room …” he said slowly, praying with all his might that Sylar wasn’t after her, just the List … and Mohinder’s life.

Sylar’s smile widened into a fiendish grin. “On second thought, why doesn’t she stay where she is? I’d hate to break the door to her room if you don’t cooperate with me Mohinder.”

Molly stared at Sylar. “Who are you?” she asked, biting her lip worriedly. “Mohinder, should I go or –?”

“No, don’t move … please,” Mohinder was trying very hard too keep the suffocating fear out of his voice. “This is … um …”

“Sylar,” Sylar stepped inside and slammed the door with his mind. “My name is Sylar, Molly. Mohinder and I are going to have a little chat, and if he gives me what I want, everything’s going to be fine.”

Mohinder edged away from Sylar towards Molly, who was still sitting on the couch, gazing at Sylar curiously.

“What do you want, Sylar?” Mohinder asked, surprising himself in sounding perfectly calm.

Sylar cocked his head to the side. “What do I want, Mohinder? I want a lot of things: to be special, for the FBI stop chasing me, Peter Petrelli dead, the List, a few things to do with you that I won’t say in front of Molly …” he smirked, lust and blood in his eyes.

Mohinder clenched his fist into the couch and put his arm around Molly. “I’ll rephrase that: what do you want me to do so Molly will … be ok?”

Sylar glanced across the room. “The List is destroyed, isn’t it? But you’ve been working on it, haven’t you?” a chair skidded across the room seemingly of its own accord. Sylar sat down in it. “That’s a good place to start, I suppose.”

Molly’s eyes had widened when the chair shot across the room. “Wow!” she whispered. “That was cool …”

While she was distracted, Mohinder locked eyes with Sylar. “Are you going to …” he mouthed ‘kill me?’

Sylar raised his eyebrows. “I’m not really sure yet. Currently you’re more good to me alive, so don’t dwell on it,” he flicked his hand, and Mohinder was flung toward the computer. Molly gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth.

BANG.

The door was kicked in – Sylar and the chair crashed to the floor – and several black clad figures who looked like SWAT team members – but they weren’t SWAT – stood in the doorway.

“A-Team, get the scientist and the girl! B and C, take Sylar down!” one of them barked.

Sylar telekinetically flung him and his companions out of the door, but the crash of breaking glass told him more were coming through the back.

Mohinder shoved his laptop into its bag and dove to the side as tranquilizer darts zoomed through the room. Molly was already crouched behind the couch – she was white as a sheet. Mohinder hugged her to his chest, she whimpered.

Sylar ducked down beside them, a tinge of … fear in his eyes.

“Who the hell are these people?” Mohinder demanded, feeling his terror escalate: Sylar was scared … that wasn’t good.

“No time!” Sylar hissed, hurling the sofa at the door. “Dammit!” he roared, grabbing Mohinder and Molly and diving out the open window.

Molly screamed, but they touched down to the ground lightly, like stepping off a stair.

Sylar telekinetically broke into the nearest car, shoved Molly and Mohinder’s laptop in the back, and forced Mohinder into the driver’s seat. “Keep driving until I tell you to stop!” he snapped, locking the doors.

Gunshots – the men were firing at them. Molly squeaked and ducked down onto the floor, covering her head with her arms.

“It’s going to be ok, Molly,” Mohinder said, speeding through a red light at a glance from Sylar. “Don’t worry we’re … we’re going to be ok.”

Sylar smirked, raising his eyebrows. You don’t really believe that, do you? he asked Mohinder with his eyes.

Mohinder shook his head slightly. “Am I going anywhere in particular?” he glared at the cars ahead of them.

“Head out west, aim for California,” Sylar twisted around in his seat – no unmarked vans or strange faux SWAT men in sight …yet.

“Are we really going to California, or are we just going in that general direction?” Mohinder beeped loudly at a cab that cut him off.

“When I know I’ll tell you,” Sylar caught the little girl’s eye. She stared boldly back at him. Fear, anger, confusion, and worry swirled in her brown eyes – so open and innocent. It was jarring – he stared straight ahead again.

“Who are those men? There’s time now, right?” Mohinder swerved around a corner. “I wouldn’t ask if it was just you they were after, but they said ‘the scientist and the girl’ and we aren’t serial-killers on the run from the FBI.”

Molly gasped. “I knew it!” she exclaimed. “You’re the Boogeyman!”

Sylar almost laughed. “Fine, you want to call me that? Doesn’t matter. I remember you: you’re Molly Walker … your father had an ability …” twisted around in his seat and eyed her hungrily. “Are you special?” he hissed.

Mohinder slammed on the brakes. “Leave her alone!” he demanded as cars behind him beeped their disapproval.

“Keep driving!” Sylar snapped.

“I’m not moving this car until you promise to stop taunting her!” Mohinder glared at Sylar. “Play mind games with me! She’s just a little girl!”

“KEEP DRIVING!” Sylar roared, pushing the gas with his mind and grabbing the steering wheel.

They continued for a few moments like that – Molly cowering in the back, Mohinder fuming into the driver’s seat, Sylar controlling the car with his thoughts – until Sylar spoke again.

“Fine, I’ll leave her alone. But only if you keep driving, this is a pain to keep up,” Sylar cocked his head to the side.

Mohinder sighed and grabbed the wheel. “Deal,” he said grudgingly, accelerating and heading out of the city.

~*~

They stopped once for gas – Sylar locked them inside, switched license plates with a nearby parked car, and returned from the convenience store with some bottled water and a bag of pretzels. Mohinder didn’t ask where he’d gotten the money, or if he’d paid at all, and concentrated on the road and tried not to think about what would happen when night fell. Would Sylar just make him keep driving? Threatening Molly could only keep him awake so long …

“Take the next exit and find the Motel 8,” Sylar ordered around ten-thirty.

Mohinder glanced in the mirror – Molly was already asleep, using the laptop bag as a pillow – and did as he was told.

They were locked in the car again as Sylar went into the front office and returned with two room cards. “Park over there and wake her up,” Sylar said, getting out once the car had stopped moving and yawning massively.

“Molly?” Mohinder whispered. “Molly, wake up ...”

Molly moaned. “Mommy?” she asked.

Mohinder felt a slight twinge. He was certain that Sylar – with Dale’s ability – had heard. “No, it’s Mohinder, we’ve stopped at a motel for the night.”

She sat up and stretched. “Where are we?” she mumbled.

“Somewhere in Ohio,” Mohinder said, helping her out of the car and grabbing the laptop bag at a look from Sylar.

“When are we going home?” she asked as they walked up the staircase and across the balcony.

Mohinder glanced at Sylar. “I don’t know,” he confessed truthfully. “Try not to think about it, ok?”

Sylar is watching Mohinder curiously, his head cocked to the side in that way of his.

He doesn’t understand caring for someone else like this, Mohinder realized with horror.

Sylar unlocks one of the rooms. “She stays in here. We take the one next door. If she tries to leave, or escape, or come into our room …” Sylar glared meaningfully.

Mohinder glared all of his hatred and revulsion back and crouched down beside Molly. “Molly, stay in here until I get you, ok? If you hear … um … noises, don’t worry, ok?”

Molly nodded, hugged him, and darted inside the room, switching on the lights as she went.

When the door shut, Mohinder faced Sylar. “Is that the last time I’m going to see her?” he demanded softly.

Sylar laughed. “You worry too much, Mohinder. You’re so convinced I’m going to kill you, or her, when there are so many other things I could do instead …” he grabbed Mohinder’s wrist and dragged him into the other room. The lights flickered on without a touch, illuminating a small room with two beds.

The table jumped to the side, and the beds shoved together.

“Oh god …” Mohinder whispered as Sylar kicked off his shoes, tossed his coat to the side, and began to slip the scientist’s clothing off. “No … you won’t … you wouldn’t … even you won’t sink this low …” fear that he’d held back all day swelled up nauseatingly.

Sylar smirked. “Won’t I?” he kissed Mohinder roughly, seeking something to sate his lust. Mohinder wanted to resist, fight, yell, but then he remembered that Molly was next door. I can’t make a sound. I won’t let her die.

Sylar laughed lightly. “You’re so easy to read, Mohinder. Why bother with telepathy when you’re already an open book?” his hands were roaming where Mohinder had never let another man, lips caressing his face horrifically.

Feverish prayers ran through his head as Sylar tossed him down onto the two beds. Mohinder couldn’t let himself think about what was happening or he knew he’d scream.