cruiscin_lan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cruiscin_lan) wrote2009-01-20 06:27 pm
cruiscin_lan) wrote2009-01-20 06:27 pm
FIC: Rough, Isn't It?
Title: Rough, Isn't It?
Characters/Pairings: Mohinder/Elle
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word Count: 1464
Spoilers/Warnings: AU from "Eris Quod Sum"
Summary: Mohinder returns to his lab and Elle comes to him for help.
A/N: What![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aurilly wants, aurilly gets... Once someone plants Mohelle in my head, I can't let it go.
It was obvious to Mohinder as he stood on the street outside his lab that the Company had been there. As usual, they hadn't left a shred of evidence to suggest that fact, but after his brief stint working for them, he knew how they operated - quickly and cleanly.
After his sudden escape from Nathan and that ice queen he'd brought with him, he'd left Maya at Pinehearst alone; he wasn't going to let himself be sucked into another organization that did more harm than good. It wasn't far - just across the Hudson in Fort Lee, New Jersey - but it had taken him days to make his way back to the lab. He'd simply wandered the streets at night, like many of the city's homeless, biding his time. He figured by now he'd given the Company time enough to ransack the place for all the information they needed and clear out.
A light through the window flickered, and Mohinder halted in his tracks. He'd left in a hurry, after all, and he couldn't remember whether or not he'd left any Bunsen burners on. He had left Nathan and Tracy Strauss there alone, but he figured that they'd have let themselves out by now. Perhaps the Company had left a few agents there to await his return. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do if they had. Perhaps it would be a simple bag-and-tag, and he wouldn't be in any real danger besides imprisonment. Perhaps they were there to kill him. In that event, he figured his jumping skills would be sufficient to save himself again. Worst case scenario, they did kill him - and as he paused to examine the scaliness on his hand, he thought perhaps that that wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
"Looks like they really did a number on this place," a voice remarked as he stepped through the threshold. "Unless you were trying new interior decorating that included, like, cocoons and black plastic curtains." It was a familiar voice, still sardonic, although it was tinged with a sort of despair he had never heard before. A light flashed in the corner of the lab, illuminating the room bright blue, and Mohinder recognized its source instantly.
"Elle," Mohinder whispered, his jaw going slack. "What are you doing here?"
As she looked up she smiled, a smile that didn't extend to her eyes. He could have sworn he heard her gulp as though she was scared; he'd always thought she was the kind of person to instill fear, not to feel it. He descended the stairs and she strode to the middle of the room to meet him. Her words stumbled out of her mouth, "I... I can't control it anymore. I didn't know where else to go."
"You can't control what anymore?"
"My electricity," Elle said hastily, and a spark crawled upwards across her shoulder in emphasis. "It's out of control," Elle continued, stammering. "You've done research for the Company; I thought you might have some answers."
"What kind of answers are you looking for?"
"I want it to stop, Mohinder. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't shower without shocking myself." As small blue streaks lit up on her face, Mohinder could see the tears gleaming in her eyes. She wasn't at all like the sociopath he'd first gotten to know while on stakeout. She'd been slurping down a Slush-O and snapping at him when he'd asked about her body count. Now her hair hung limply around her pallid face, her eyes puffy from pain and exhaustion. Even her lips were blistered as though she'd been chewing on them. Her tone was edged with hopelessness, a plaintive, pitiful whimper instead of the acerbic hiss he remembered.
"I don't know what I can do about that."
"Make it go away, Mohinder. Please. Make it go away." Her look was pleading, her voice was desperate. She grabbed his shoulders in her hands, and as another volt of electricity coursed through her body she clenched so hard that he could feel her fingernails scratch his skin, even through his jacket.
"Elle, there's not much I can do to help you," Mohinder told her. He felt a twist in his chest, an aching he couldn't identify. It was the same way he'd felt when he left Maya at Pinehearst earlier - a little bit hopeless, a little bit sorry, a little bit responsible.
"But you..."
"Have you seen a medical doctor?" he asked, trying to sound professional, as he shook himself away from her grasp. He turned away and took off his jacket, laying it gently across the lab equipment on the slate table. "Sedatives? Rubber clothing?"
"You don't have to be mean," Elle replied, her voice shrinking, like a child's. "The Company... they had suppressants."
"Then why didn't you go to the Company, then?"
Elle crossed her arms and stepped up to the table, leaning with her back against it. She looked down at her shoes and swallowed back her tears. "Sylar killed my father, and Angela Petrelli fired me."
And just like that Mohinder's heart finally broke. He turned to the table and hid his face with his hands, trying to conceal his own watery eyes. The fact that Sylar killed Bob Bishop only reminded him of the fact that Sylar had killed his own father as well. He suddenly couldn't help but think that if only his father was around, he'd never have messed up so much. He'd ruined so many lives, not just his own, with his foolhardy eagerness to be special.
"Are you... are you crying?" Elle's voice called him back into the moment. "Why are you crying?"
Mohinder straightened, wiping his face with the back of his hands before shoving them into his pockets, as he struggled to regain his composure. "Sylar killed my father too, you know," he explained. "And since then, I've been trying to take over where my father left off, and I just keep... I keep failing, in every way."
Elle's eyebrows knit together in an expression that combined confusion and concern. "I didn't know," she said, barely whispering. "I'm sorry to hear that." Her eyes went to Mohinder's wrist, visible between the top of his pants pocket and the edge of his sweater, where the skin had turned to scales. "It's rough, isn't it?"
"It's rough?" Mohinder smiled in spite of himself, laughing at the absurdity of the understatement. "Rough doesn't even begin to describe it. I always looked up to my father -"
"Always striving to follow in his footsteps," Elle interrupted, thinking of her own father in that moment.
"Trying to fulfill his expectations," Mohinder continued.
"Never being good enough, never doing things right."
"But you never thought about what would happen when, suddenly, one day he's gone."
"Taken from you, just like that."
"I suppose the only thing to do, when that happens," Mohinder sighed, "is to start living for yourself." He thought of all the ways he could have done things differently. He didn't have to immediately fly to New York, he didn't have to take his father's apartment or his job, he didn't need to pick up where his research left off. He could have stayed in India, continuing his career as a simple genetics professor, reclaiming for himself the field that had once been his father's.\
Elle's mind was moving in similar ways. She'd been trained since her youth to be an agent, a weapon, an extension of her father's power - nothing more, nothing less. But now that he was gone, she had the chance to be anything she wanted. She just needed to figure out what it was that she wanted to be.
They locked eyes for a moment, each of them realizing that they were more alike than they had previously thought possible. They held their gaze until the silence grew awkward, and Mohinder cleared his throat and looked away.
"So... suppressants?" he asked.
Elle paused for a moment, rubbing her left arm with her right hand subconsciously. "I... I don't know if I need them anymore. The pain - it's gone."
"Is your power....?"
Elle brought her hand to the level of her face, making her fingertips sparkle with
light and energy. "Still got it," she replied.
"Well, then," Mohinder smiled sadly, "I guess you really didn't need my help after all."
Elle reached for his scaly hand, and Mohinder flinched and step backwards. Unfazed, Elle looked into his eyes and took his hand in hers, caressing the scaly parts gently with her thumb. "I think you helped me more than you realize," she murmured, finally letting the tears fall as she smiled just as sadly back.
Characters/Pairings: Mohinder/Elle
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word Count: 1464
Spoilers/Warnings: AU from "Eris Quod Sum"
Summary: Mohinder returns to his lab and Elle comes to him for help.
A/N: What
aurilly wants, aurilly gets... Once someone plants Mohelle in my head, I can't let it go.It was obvious to Mohinder as he stood on the street outside his lab that the Company had been there. As usual, they hadn't left a shred of evidence to suggest that fact, but after his brief stint working for them, he knew how they operated - quickly and cleanly.
After his sudden escape from Nathan and that ice queen he'd brought with him, he'd left Maya at Pinehearst alone; he wasn't going to let himself be sucked into another organization that did more harm than good. It wasn't far - just across the Hudson in Fort Lee, New Jersey - but it had taken him days to make his way back to the lab. He'd simply wandered the streets at night, like many of the city's homeless, biding his time. He figured by now he'd given the Company time enough to ransack the place for all the information they needed and clear out.
A light through the window flickered, and Mohinder halted in his tracks. He'd left in a hurry, after all, and he couldn't remember whether or not he'd left any Bunsen burners on. He had left Nathan and Tracy Strauss there alone, but he figured that they'd have let themselves out by now. Perhaps the Company had left a few agents there to await his return. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do if they had. Perhaps it would be a simple bag-and-tag, and he wouldn't be in any real danger besides imprisonment. Perhaps they were there to kill him. In that event, he figured his jumping skills would be sufficient to save himself again. Worst case scenario, they did kill him - and as he paused to examine the scaliness on his hand, he thought perhaps that that wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
"Looks like they really did a number on this place," a voice remarked as he stepped through the threshold. "Unless you were trying new interior decorating that included, like, cocoons and black plastic curtains." It was a familiar voice, still sardonic, although it was tinged with a sort of despair he had never heard before. A light flashed in the corner of the lab, illuminating the room bright blue, and Mohinder recognized its source instantly.
"Elle," Mohinder whispered, his jaw going slack. "What are you doing here?"
As she looked up she smiled, a smile that didn't extend to her eyes. He could have sworn he heard her gulp as though she was scared; he'd always thought she was the kind of person to instill fear, not to feel it. He descended the stairs and she strode to the middle of the room to meet him. Her words stumbled out of her mouth, "I... I can't control it anymore. I didn't know where else to go."
"You can't control what anymore?"
"My electricity," Elle said hastily, and a spark crawled upwards across her shoulder in emphasis. "It's out of control," Elle continued, stammering. "You've done research for the Company; I thought you might have some answers."
"What kind of answers are you looking for?"
"I want it to stop, Mohinder. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't shower without shocking myself." As small blue streaks lit up on her face, Mohinder could see the tears gleaming in her eyes. She wasn't at all like the sociopath he'd first gotten to know while on stakeout. She'd been slurping down a Slush-O and snapping at him when he'd asked about her body count. Now her hair hung limply around her pallid face, her eyes puffy from pain and exhaustion. Even her lips were blistered as though she'd been chewing on them. Her tone was edged with hopelessness, a plaintive, pitiful whimper instead of the acerbic hiss he remembered.
"I don't know what I can do about that."
"Make it go away, Mohinder. Please. Make it go away." Her look was pleading, her voice was desperate. She grabbed his shoulders in her hands, and as another volt of electricity coursed through her body she clenched so hard that he could feel her fingernails scratch his skin, even through his jacket.
"Elle, there's not much I can do to help you," Mohinder told her. He felt a twist in his chest, an aching he couldn't identify. It was the same way he'd felt when he left Maya at Pinehearst earlier - a little bit hopeless, a little bit sorry, a little bit responsible.
"But you..."
"Have you seen a medical doctor?" he asked, trying to sound professional, as he shook himself away from her grasp. He turned away and took off his jacket, laying it gently across the lab equipment on the slate table. "Sedatives? Rubber clothing?"
"You don't have to be mean," Elle replied, her voice shrinking, like a child's. "The Company... they had suppressants."
"Then why didn't you go to the Company, then?"
Elle crossed her arms and stepped up to the table, leaning with her back against it. She looked down at her shoes and swallowed back her tears. "Sylar killed my father, and Angela Petrelli fired me."
And just like that Mohinder's heart finally broke. He turned to the table and hid his face with his hands, trying to conceal his own watery eyes. The fact that Sylar killed Bob Bishop only reminded him of the fact that Sylar had killed his own father as well. He suddenly couldn't help but think that if only his father was around, he'd never have messed up so much. He'd ruined so many lives, not just his own, with his foolhardy eagerness to be special.
"Are you... are you crying?" Elle's voice called him back into the moment. "Why are you crying?"
Mohinder straightened, wiping his face with the back of his hands before shoving them into his pockets, as he struggled to regain his composure. "Sylar killed my father too, you know," he explained. "And since then, I've been trying to take over where my father left off, and I just keep... I keep failing, in every way."
Elle's eyebrows knit together in an expression that combined confusion and concern. "I didn't know," she said, barely whispering. "I'm sorry to hear that." Her eyes went to Mohinder's wrist, visible between the top of his pants pocket and the edge of his sweater, where the skin had turned to scales. "It's rough, isn't it?"
"It's rough?" Mohinder smiled in spite of himself, laughing at the absurdity of the understatement. "Rough doesn't even begin to describe it. I always looked up to my father -"
"Always striving to follow in his footsteps," Elle interrupted, thinking of her own father in that moment.
"Trying to fulfill his expectations," Mohinder continued.
"Never being good enough, never doing things right."
"But you never thought about what would happen when, suddenly, one day he's gone."
"Taken from you, just like that."
"I suppose the only thing to do, when that happens," Mohinder sighed, "is to start living for yourself." He thought of all the ways he could have done things differently. He didn't have to immediately fly to New York, he didn't have to take his father's apartment or his job, he didn't need to pick up where his research left off. He could have stayed in India, continuing his career as a simple genetics professor, reclaiming for himself the field that had once been his father's.\
Elle's mind was moving in similar ways. She'd been trained since her youth to be an agent, a weapon, an extension of her father's power - nothing more, nothing less. But now that he was gone, she had the chance to be anything she wanted. She just needed to figure out what it was that she wanted to be.
They locked eyes for a moment, each of them realizing that they were more alike than they had previously thought possible. They held their gaze until the silence grew awkward, and Mohinder cleared his throat and looked away.
"So... suppressants?" he asked.
Elle paused for a moment, rubbing her left arm with her right hand subconsciously. "I... I don't know if I need them anymore. The pain - it's gone."
"Is your power....?"
Elle brought her hand to the level of her face, making her fingertips sparkle with
light and energy. "Still got it," she replied.
"Well, then," Mohinder smiled sadly, "I guess you really didn't need my help after all."
Elle reached for his scaly hand, and Mohinder flinched and step backwards. Unfazed, Elle looked into his eyes and took his hand in hers, caressing the scaly parts gently with her thumb. "I think you helped me more than you realize," she murmured, finally letting the tears fall as she smiled just as sadly back.
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Hell, I like Elle/Anyone, especially when you write it.
Elle's the fandom bicycle, baby. LOL.
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Dude, if I had some Elle/Flint or Elle/Nathan plotbunnies, I'd totally write those pairings too. She's my fanon slut!
coughElle/Arthurcough
Wait, what?
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poor momo: "a little bit hopeless, a little bit sorry, a little bit responsible"
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Seriously, word on the daddy issues. I can't think of anyone who has a healthy relationship with their father - except maybe Micah at the end of season one...
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