Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg, Drama, Consent Issues, AU

Chapter 8

When it came to his increasingly short list of acceptable greetings, the phrase "Man, you've gotten big" was nowhere to be found. Yet those were the first words that fell out of Peter's mouth when the two saw each other. Mohinder didn't appreciate the reminder of just how much he had changed, even if it was painfully obvious. His stomach, hands, and feet had all swollen up considerably in the past few months and having such things brought to his attention only made Mohinder feel self conscious.

Yet despite the fact that the "greeting" made Mohinder's lips twist into a bitter frown, he still invited Peter back to his apartment for coffee (which he couldn't drink anymore), because he was in desperate need of a neutral third party to have an adult conversation with.

"When was your last doctor's visit?" Peter asked. That question was definitely more to Mohinder's liking.

It was rare for him to be able to talk to anyone about his pregnancy since his condition was still very much a secret. With his medical treatment being taken care of mainly by the Company, the secrecy of the situation made him feel as if he were working on some sort of classified government project instead of expecting a baby.

Mohinder sighed, placing a tired hand on his awkwardly round stomach. "About a week ago," he said. He shuffled through the cupboard that was filled with an abundance of canned goods. They'd all be gone soon enough, he reminded himself, as they were all a part of some charity drive that Molly's school was organizing for the Thanksgiving holiday. It was nice of the school to encourage the children to participate in a cause that would help the less fortunate, but he wished it didn't also have the side effect of making his kitchen more of a hassle to navigate through.

"What'd he say?"

"Oh, the usual," Mohinder said, grabbing a mug and placing it on the counter. "Developing nicely, strong heart beat, due in six weeks."

"Six weeks?" Peter repeated as he watched Mohinder pour him a cup of coffee. "Wow. It feels like just yesterday we found out you were pregnant. Are you excited?"

"Anxious is more like it," Mohinder muttered truthfully. "While I am looking forward to having my body to myself again, the prospect of being sliced open and having a part of me ripped out is less than pleasant." He had to fight to suppress a shudder as he handed Peter the mug of coffee.

"Don't look at it that way," Peter suggested. "You'll only make yourself even tenser with that mind set. Think of it as a way of facilitating the natural birthing process."

"I think of it more as the only possible way for my baby to be born," he sighed, patting his stomach unconsciously. "Sometimes I wonder if I would have been able to deliver this child completely on my own if I hadn't been cured by the formula."

Peter did his best to keep a straight face at that thought, but even he couldn't stop the combination of a grimace and a stray shudder from coursing through his being. They hadn't exactly discussed the night Mohinder had been cured, but he already knew that Peter was still feeling a bit guilty about his own actions. "Either way, you're better off. You weren't exactly rocking the crazy bug man look."

"I suppose you're right." Mohinder hummed thoughtfully as he handed Peter a few stray packets of sugar that he kept laying around the kitchen. "It's best to leave my Dr. Brundle days behind me and take precautions for the future."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked as he poured the sugar packs into his coffee one by one before making his way towards the refrigerator in search of milk.

"Birth control," he said simply. "Matt and I were rather lax about such things in the past, but obviously we'll have to be more careful now."

Peter frowned, stirring the assorted ingredients in his now flooded cup. "You mean you don't want any more kids?"

Mohinder wasn't sure how to answer that. A few years ago he had never wanted any children, had never imagined himself as a parent, but then he had met Molly and the idea of taking care of her had been such a natural fit. Even he had been convinced that she would be the only child he raised. Then this baby had entered his world and as unexpected as he had been, Mohinder couldn't bring himself to turn his back on the child growing inside of him.

"I don't know," he said honestly, his voice softening at the thought. "It's something that I'm going to have to discuss with Matt."

Peter frowned, leaning closer and studying Mohinder's expression carefully. "Are you okay Mohinder?" Peter asked gently, his hand going to rest on top of Mohinder's. "I didn't want to say anything but you seem a bit... well, down."

He sighed, feeling the baby begin to shift impatiently in his stomach as he often did whenever Mohinder was feeling the least bit anxious or worried. "I have to confess something Peter," he began. "I'm afraid I didn't ask you over here just for coffee. I... I need to talk to someone and I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Oh," Peter said softly, his brown eyes widening as understanding quickly dawned on him. "Do... do you want to sit down then?"

Mohinder nodded, steering the two of them toward the living room where he sat down rather heavily on their beaten up old sofa. He waited for Peter to sit - he noticed that Peter's movements less cumbersome and sluggish than his own which caused a small spark of jealousy to well up inside Mohinder - before licking his lips and gathering his thoughts. "I, uh." He sighed as the words failed to form in his mind. He couldn't think of anything to say without coming off as paranoid and a bit irrational, but he had to ask. "Have you noticed anything off about Matt lately?"

Peter gave him a thoughtful frown at that, thrown off a bit by the question, but not enough to dismiss it altogether. "Can't really say," he told him honestly. "I haven't seen him in a while, haven't really had a chance to spend time with him. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," he breathed, adjusting himself so that he was facing Peter. "I feel like there is. He seems... different."

"Different how?"

The Indian swallowed as he tried to think of the least embarrassing way to put all of this together. "He's been rather distant lately," he said. "He's been pulling away and at first I thought that maybe he was losing interest in m-" Mohinder stopped, realizing that he was about say something incredibly self centered and foolish. "In our relationship," he amended, hoping that this word choice was more suitable, "but then I started to realize that... well, he just didn't feel right."

"Feel right?" Peter echoed. Mohinder could tell by Peter's expression that he was confused by his words, yet there was a look in his eye that said in some strange way he understood. "What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain," he sighed. Mohinder couldn't put it into words exactly, but just Matt's presence didn't feel the same. He didn't give off the same familiar sense of warmth and home that Mohinder was so used to. Instead he just radiated tension and... and something he couldn't quite describe. "He hasn't been acting like himself. The other day we were talking about putting away money for college for Molly and the baby. I suggested that it would be easier if we just opened up a joint account. His whole demeanor shifted and... it just didn't make sense. A few months ago he said he wanted to marry me and now he doesn't even want to let me look at his check book?"

"Cold feet?" Peter reasoned, shrugging half heartedly. Obviously he didn't want to believe that there was something wrong, and Mohinder couldn't blame him. After all they had been through it would be nice to know that life was completely normal, that one of their friends wasn't falling apart at the seams. "I mean, before you guys weren't having a baby, but now... I guess it just seems realer."

"It's not just that," Mohinder continued. "He... he won't kiss me. Not that he doesn't want to, just that he constantly stops himself." The Indian couldn't fight against the cold feeling that filled his belly at the humiliating memory of how Matt had leaned in to give him a kiss, before his eyes went wide as if he'd just woken from a dream and yanked himself away. "And... and he talks to himself. Not quite muttering, but animated conversations, as if he were arguing with someone. I've never known him to do that before."

Peter sat there, his face grim as his grip on the coffee mug tightened. He looked as if he wanted to drink just to avoid speaking, but Mohinder could see that there was something he wanted to say. "There's something wrong with Nathan, too," Peter admitted finally.

"Nathan?" he repeated.

The younger man nodded and suddenly Mohinder felt very foolish for not seeing that earlier. He didn't see Nathan often - his job kept him occupied in the New York labs while Nathan stayed busy in Washington dealing with the more political end of the Company as well as performing his duties as a senator - but the meeting they had had not long ago still rang in his head.

"In your professional experience, have you ever encountered instances of abilities... changing?"

His stomach twisted with worry at the memory causing the baby to stir reflexively inside of him. He had been too wrapped up in himself to realize the obvious, that Nathan had been referring to himself.

"What's different about him?" Mohinder asked cautiously. "If you don't mind me asking."

"It's like you said with Matt, he doesn't feel like himself," Peter said simply. "And he doesn't remember a lot of things. Big chunks of his life, gone. And... and sometimes I talk to him and... well, what he says is right, but the way he says it is completely off. It's like someone else is answering. Someone pretending to be Nathan." Peter paused, stopping as if to think about what he had just said. Apparently the absurdity had been far too much for him as he burst out into sudden, strangled laughed. "I can't believe what I just said. It sounds stupid doesn't it?"

"No," Mohinder said seriously, but couldn't find it in himself to say more. Everything was strange. Nothing had been close to normal in a long time and that thought made him feel cheated, angry. They deserved a break, they all did, but it didn't look like things would ever go smoothly for them. As if to emphasize that fact Mohinder suddenly found himself doubling over slightly as the baby choose that exact moment to give him a very hearty kick.

Peter stiffened, his eyes widening as his body went ridged as if suddenly on high alert. "Are you okay?" Peter asked anxiously. "Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No," Mohinder said again, shaking his head slightly as the baby gave another kick, this one thankfully less intense. "Just kicking, as usual. He's a regular football player in the making."

A smile spread across Peter's features as his eyes locked with Mohinder's belly. He looked sad but grateful at the same time as he lifted a hand to touch, but stopped midway. "I... can I?" he asked, looking up at Mohinder hesitantly.

Were it anyone else, Mohinder would have refused flat out as he hated having his belly rubbed like some sort of Buddha statue at a Chinese restaurant. There were only a select few that he allowed to touch his stomach; Molly - who he encouraged as a way for her to feel more connected to the baby - and Matt - who seemed to want to feel their child less and less lately. Mohinder, however, was willing to make an exception for Peter.

"Of course you can." He grabbed Peter's hand gently in his, guiding it towards the baby's favorite spot to kick, on his right side. His unborn child greeted Peter's hand with a series of light kicks, the sensation causing Peter's smile to widen. "Feel that?"

He nodded. "You sure he's a soccer player? Feels more like a swimmer to me," Peter joked.

Mohinder laughed in agreement. There were some nights when the baby kept him up all hours with his insistent movements, squirming and stretching fitfully when he should be fast asleep. He could only hope that when his child was born he wasn't so full of energy during the night.

Peter pressed his other hand on top of his belly, causing Mohinder to stiffen slightly. Yet the soft smile and sad gleam lingering in his friend's eyes was enough to keep him from saying anything. Peter looked up at him, ready to say something, but the words never came out.

"Hey, what's going on in here?"

The two men were startled by the sudden arrival, jumping apart at the sound of the front door closing loudly just a few feet away. Mohinder turned towards the door to see Matt and Molly walk in. It was only then that he realized what time it was and felt a bit slothful for forgetting to at least have a snack ready for her. It was the least he could have done since it was Matt's day to pick her up from school.

"Hey Mohinder," Molly greeted, all bright smile and wide eyes as she shrugged off her backpack and kicked off her shoes. "Hi Peter. Guess what? We learned a lot of really cool stuff about the Pilgrims today at school. Did you know that they didn't come straight to America? They went to Germany or something first."

Mohinder smiled at her excited tone. He was always glad to hear that Molly had gotten something out of her lessons, even if it was just one small fact to keep her entertained for a few days. It was enough to show that she was paying some attention in class. "No, I didn't know that. That's quite interesting."

"Molly," Matt began. "Can you give us a second alone?"

It was then that Mohinder got a good look at Matt, studying him as if he hadn't seen him in days. The man looked irritated, worn, as if something had been nagging at him all day and had finally reached its braking point. His brow was furrowed and his shoulder hunched in a somewhat defensive pose and there was something about the look in his eyes that Mohinder simply did not like.

Molly gave a reluctant nod, grabbing her backpack by its purple straps and dragging it back towards her bedroom. Once the door was closed, Matt turned his full attention towards them. "Hey," Matt began again, speaking his words slower, as if trying his best to hide the hostile edge lurking within them. "What's going on?"

Peter stiffened visibly at Matt's question, seeming to sense that the tension building in the small room was currently being directed at him. The young man's eyes flicked over towards Mohinder as if to ask him what to do, but Mohinder remained calm and level headed.

"I invited Peter over," Mohinder said smoothly. "I just wanted to talk, catch up on things."

"Oh yeah?" Matt circled the sofa, shifting until he was standing in front of the two of them. Mohinder had to adjust himself - with some difficulty - just so he could look the other man in the eye. "What were you talking about?"

"Baby related things mostly," he told him. "Peter was telling me about how his hospital offers infant CPR classes on Monday nights. I think it's something we might want to check out."

The way Matt frowned and cocked his head to the side did not go unnoticed and Mohinder knew right away that he was checking to see whether or not he was lying. Fortunately, Mohinder was forcing himself to think in abstracts - a new technique he picked up when he realized that constantly thinking in Tamil would get suspicious - but that did nothing for the displeased frown on Matt's features.

"Yeah, maybe," Matt grumbled, slowly shifting his gaze towards Peter. "Well, Peter, it's getting kinda late. I guess you should be heading out, huh?"

Peter frowned, glancing out the window at the late afternoon sun. "Well, it's not that late," he began hesitantly. "But, uh, I guess I have stayed a while-"

The young man was just about to stand up when Mohinder grabbed his hand, pulling him back down towards the couch. "Peter, you don't have to go," Mohinder insisted. "You've barely just gotten here."

"Come on Mohinder," Matt chimed in. "He probably doesn't want to stay here all day talking about baby stuff. I bet he's got plenty of things and people he'd rather see and do."

Mohinder felt his cheeks flush and his jaw tighten at that comment, yet before he could even think to say anything, Peter was sliding off the couch and on his feet.

"You know what? I should go," the young man said. He grabbed his coffee mug and headed towards the kitchen. From the sound of the cup hitting the counter that Mohinder knew that he'd put it away. "I'll see you around, Mohinder."

When the front door closed Mohinder allowed the anger that had been slowly simmering inside of him to boil over. He glared up at Matt, irritated beyond words when he saw that the man didn't look the least bit ashamed of what he'd just done. If anything, Matt looked rather annoyed.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" Mohinder snapped.

"Me?" Matt asked incredulously. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mohinder huffed as he struggled to get to his feet. At that moment, he truly wished he hadn't pregnant. It was always impossible to look intimidating - let alone serious - with a bulging, beach ball sized belly. "I was just talking with a friend, our friend and you were incredibly rude to him!"

"With good reason," the detective scoffed. "I mean, with the way you were flirting with him-"

"Flirting?" he echoed. If Matt had said this a few months ago, Mohinder might have sheepishly sat back and allowed the detective to pile on his accusations, but that time had passed. They had talked about this, were supposed to have moved past it all, yet to know that Matt was still harboring suspicions about him was insulting to say the least. "Do you have any idea how absurd you sound? This is ridiculous! I told you before that I would never cheat on you again-"

"You cheated once," Matt shot back. "That's enough. Once a cheater always a cheater, remember?"

"Is that it Matt? Is that why you've gone from wanting to marry me to not being able to look me in the eye? Because you don't trust me anymore? Dammit Matt, I've already apologized to you, spent months trying to make it all up to you, but if you don't know by now that that's not the kind of person I am then I'm incredibly disappointed in you.

"Besides, your feelings aren't the only ones that matter. I have to sit here and tend to your bruised ego, but what about me?" He frowned, taking a deep breath as he waved his hands in front of the body that didn't look at all like the one he'd been born in. "Do you think I like being this way? I'm a freak! I'm a walking whale and I have to sit and accept the fact that people are going to stare at me and talk about me behind my back and then I come home and the person who is supposed to love me for whatever I am won't even look at me. How do you think that makes me feel?"

Matt was silent as his round cheeks turned pink and his eyes fell sheepishly towards the floor. Mohinder took no pleasure in seeing him like this, in knowing that he was the one who had made him feel this way. He just felt sick and lonely and not at all like himself.

"Mohinder," Matt began, reaching out to touch his hand, but Mohinder would not let him.

"Don't touch me," he snapped, taking a step back. "If you don't love me anymore then that's just fine. Just please... leave me alone."

Matt didn't move an inch as Mohinder marched into their bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

There were bars everywhere he looked.

On the windows, on the door, even on the computer screen.

The bars were freezing, like thick black poles of ice, but when he reached out to touch them they burned.

He sat at his desk. He was chained to his chair. He couldn't move, didn't want to, he was too cold.

Now and again a cough would shake through him and make him rattle, reminding how empty he was on the inside where no one could see.

The hand pressed against his back was firm and insistent and even though he wanted to Mohinder found that he could not ignore it. That didn't mean he had to look at Matt, however. He wasn't ready to face him yet. The anger that had filled him just a few hours ago was still pumping furiously through his veins.

Mohinder balled his hands into fists as he glared at the wall in front of him. He could barely make out Matt's shadow, but he felt him, felt his large hands tenderly kneading the tense muscles on his back like dough. He couldn't tell what Matt was trying to do and in that moment, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts.
"Go away," Mohinder ordered, his words muffled by the pillow he was ready to bury his face into. "I'm not ready to talk to you."

"It's late you know," Matt commented, his knuckles digging into Mohinder's back in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "You've been asleep for hours. Aren't you hungry?"

Mohinder felt his stomach churn miserably as he grabbed a stray pillow and hugged it to his chest. His fingers dug themselves into the soft cotton and he told himself firmly that he wasn't going to tear it in half, but the urge to do just that made his hands twitch wildly. "I think I'm big enough as it is, don't you?"

"I think you're beautiful." The mattress shifted under Matt's weight as the other man moved closer to him. Matt's hand never left his back as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of Mohinder's ear. "I think you're perfect."

He scoffed bitterly, closing his eyes against Matt's polite lie. "Yes, I'm sure," he muttered dryly. "That's why you haven't slept with me in months, right? That's why you can't even bring yourself to kiss me anymore?"

Matt was silent for a moment and Mohinder felt his heart clench painfully, certain that his point had been proven. It was then that Matt grabbed his shoulders, turning him over gently until Mohinder was lying flat on his back with Matt hovering over him. "I'm an idiot, you know that," Matt said, his words surprisingly humorless.

Mohinder frowned at the man above him, at the intense look in Matt's usually kind brown eyes. There was something wrong, something off about him. It was that same feeling that he had trouble describing to Peter. "Matt," Mohinder began, but was cut off right away.

"I know you probably won't believe me," Matt began seriously gazing down at Mohinder with a look that was completely foreign on his round face yet oddly familiar, "after everything we've said and done to each other you'll probably think I'm lying, you have every right to, but... I... I honestly don't think there are words powerful enough to describe exactly how I feel about you, so I'll say it the only way that I can. I love you. I love you even when you're frustrating the living hell out of me, I love you even when you're staring at me like I'm crazy, and I love you even though you probably think I can't love... you."

This didn't feel right. Mohinder should have felt charmed, reassured by Matt's kind words, but all he felt was confused. This isn't Matt, a voice in the back of his head whispered, but he shook it off. It was an absurd thought. He was looking at Matt, touching him, talking to him, and yet...

Mohinder groaned as he squirmed underneath the other man's bulky form. Matt's expression shifted from serious to worried as he stared down at Mohinder. "What is it?" he asked, panic coloring his tone. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

"No, I," he groaned again as Matt shifted until he was no longer hovering over him, giving Mohinder space to move. "I just can't lie on my back this long," he explained. "My hips..." His pelvis was on fire, burning with discomfort at having the weight of the baby resting on top of it for far too long.

Matt gave a quick "Oh," as he helped Mohinder to sit up, adjusting a few pillows for the Indian to lean against.

With the pressure removed, Mohinder felt the pain instantly evaporate. He let out a grateful sigh as he massaged his sore hips. Matt's large hands soon fell on top of his, brushing Mohinder's finger tips before settling on the massive swell in his stomach. He pressed his palms flat against the swollen middle, holding and caressing him in a way that was possessive and tender. It was the first time that Matt had touched him like this in a while, yet it didn't feel at all like Matt.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Matt told him. "Even like this, you're beautiful."

"Matt." Mohinder was cut off once again, this time by Matt leaning forward and kissing him.

The kiss was firm, too firm, and Mohinder felt himself flinch back under the bruising force. This all felt wrong and familiar and his head began to hurt. Yet despite it all, he actually felt himself responding to Matt's touch and suddenly it became quite clear how long it had been since he'd last been in this situation.

"I need you so bad," he heard Matt breath as he pressed sharp kisses along his jaw, down his throat, tugging at his shirt.

"This isn't... I don't know if we should...," Mohinder stammered even as he found himself craning his neck, inviting Matt in.

Matt gripped his cheek, turning his face in order to give him another tight kiss on the lips. "Just let me," he practically begged, desperation shining in his eyes. "I need this Mohinder. Please."

His heart was hammering, his throat was tight, and Mohinder found that he couldn't say no.