(Author's Notes: Hello, I'm Hecate's Earring. I've no idea where this is going. I am open to suggestions. I guess I should say that I've nothing at all to do with NBCs Heroes, though I doubt I could fool anyone into thinking otherwise even if I tried.

added: 11 04 13-

I wrote the first 4 chapters worth of material years ago, during early days of season 2 of Heroes, after which this story is solidly AU. I posted that all in two long unwieldy chapters and haven't updated since until now. If anyone still cares about this story or even this pairing, I'm truly sorry for the long wait. I always meant to get back to it some day when life eased up on me. Then I sort of forgot about it. Then I got a review a couple months back which got me thinking about this pairing again. I realized that I didn't like having started something without finishing it. I doubt I'll get a single other bit of feedback again on this story or Once Upon Another Time which I also intend to finish, but feel free to review and prove me wrong. I'll love you for it.

Chapters 1-4 are mostly old material that got reworked, fleshed out, re-edited, as I added to the story. Chapter 5 is all entirely new material. Chapter 6 is currently in very, very rough draft form (or what passes for that in my world.) I make no promises about when it will post. I'll try not to let it take another five years though. I hope anyone who eventually finds this can enjoy a long, claustrophobic, dialogue heavy, possible mind-fuck/possible redemption story, because that's all that seems to be looming on the horizon here at the moment. Okay, here we go:)

The Constance of Midnight- part one

Mohinder awoke suddenly in the dark with weight on his body and a strong hand clamped across his mouth. He didn't need to see to know what was happening.

"Mm-ar!"

"Shut up, Mohinder. Just listen. I could have killed you a thousand times over. I'm not here to hurt you, not unless you make me."

The bedside lamp turned on all by itself. This wasn't another dream. Mohinder looked up into the eyes of his worst nightmare come true.

"Don't scream," Sylar whispered slowly then removed his hand.

Mohinder didn't scream, not because any survival instinct or higher reasoning dictated such but because he was incapacitated with sheer terror.

"Look, do us both a favor and don't scream later either? The Company's on to your game with Bennet. They used you but never trusted you. Now that they have a sufficient farm of antibodies in those you've cured, they've decided to introduce you to their early retirement plan. But it's okay, Mohinder. You're coming with me now."

"Why?"

"You can't protect yourself."

"What is that to you?"

"Come on, Mohinder. We're wasting time," said Sylar while rolling off of him to stand by the bed. "Dress. Leave your stuff except what you need. You've got two minutes."

"I could do with some privacy."

Sylar grinned looking rather amused. "You've got nothing I haven't seen before- and licked."

He tried not to let it bother him that Sylar now watched like a hungry dog as he undressed and dressed again. He took one change of clothes, his toothbrush, and his laptop. "I'll require an ATM."

"Being short on cash is the least of your worries. I'll go first. You follow. If you try anything stupid, I'll break both of your legs. Then you're still coming with me, Mohinder. Understand?"

Mohinder knew this was no idle threat. "Yes." He followed close behind through the parking lot and across the street to where Sylar had a beaten dark-colored sedan waiting.

"Drive," said Sylar tossing him keys.

Mohinder had just buckled his seat belt, put the seat forward, and adjusted the mirrors when the roadside motel in which he had stopped for the night exploded with enough force to rock the sedan up onto the passenger side wheels. When the automobile righted itself, bits of rubble and burning debris rained down on top of it.

"Ma choud!"

"I don't know what you just said, but tend to agree with the sentiment. Drive."

"Drive to where?"

"Does it matter?"

After about ten minutes of driving south, Sylar told Mohinder to pull into a parking garage. Changing vehicles from the dark gray sedan to a dark blue one took Sylar all of twenty seconds. Somehow he reshaped keys with his mind now, apparently. He handed them back to Mohinder.

"Sylar, where are we going?"

"North, avoid the general area."

"Did you plant that bomb?"

Sylar smirked seeming genuinely amused by his suspicion. "Why would I do that?"

"I do not know. Did you?"

"If you really think I did it, why believe me if I say that I didn't?"

"Was this all some misguided attempt to regain my trust?"

"So Mohinder, do you think all this trust you have in me now was worth the trouble of blowing up a motel?"

Mohinder was fully awake now, but was quite certain that he was not thinking clearly. Sylar was manipulative and murderous. As a former watchmaker with intuitive understanding of how things work, a timed explosive device fell well within his abilities. Still, planting bombs seemed pointlessly destructive, too far beneath his talents, and frankly out of character somehow. "How did you know that this would happen then?"

Sylar shrugged and stiffened as if the whole subject made him uncomfortable. "I painted it. Well actually, I prefer pastels now. They travel better. A lot of things have happened since Kirby Plaza. The Company decided that they could control me with a combination of drug cocktails and Candy."

"Candy? I had no idea you liked candy that much."

"I didn't. They tried to make me think I'd lost my powers though and needed the nice folks at the Company to help me get those back. After I escaped and found my way back to civilization, I started keeping tabs on them. Do Molly and Parkman know that you've been trying to infiltrate?"

"Yes."

"You've put your little family at risk, Mohinder. No more Haitian solution available for them, not that I should care."

"You should care. You know what Molly can do."

"True. Well, Parkman's not completely worthless, or so I assume. Write him a note. Tell him to take her and run. Hopefully the Company thinks you're dead now. That should make things easier for them."

He drove on past generic urban sprawl and a convoy of emergency vehicles travelling in the other direction. He didn't want to speak to Sylar again but the silence was even more uncomfortable.

"Why did you risk yourself to save me?"

"What? I can't be your hero, Mohinder?"

"You killed my father!"

"I just saved your life. Come on, let's just call it even. We could have a fresh start. Get to know each other all over again. Wouldn't you like that? "

"Flirting with me now is completely inappropriate behavior."

"You're right. Stop the car." Mohinder pulled into a loading zone and parked. "Release the trunk," said Sylar. Mohinder did. "Keys." Mohinder turned off the ignition and dropped them into Sylar's hand. "Let's go." He met Sylar behind the car. "Hop in."

"Into the boot of your stolen car?"

"Please?"

This was ridiculous. Who climbs into the boot of a stolen car upon the request of a known serial killer? Or, who other than him, apparently?

"Comfy in there? It won't be for long. I just need a little time to think."

"You are locking me in the boot of a stolen car, so that you can think?"

Sylar shrugged. "You're distracting. I am flirting with you and should be thinking instead. Watch your head!" Then Sylar slammed the trunk closed.

As far as Mohinder could tell, Sylar drove just like Zane Taylor had, as if he were taught how by some little old woman years ago and had never bothered driving again ever since. Mohinder tried to stay alert. He attempted to estimate where he was by the turns and distances travelled. After an hour or so he gave up completely. What did it matter where he was? He was exhausted. The hum of the vehicle on the road was hypnotic. He wasn't hermetically sealed but wasn't getting a whole lot of oxygen to his brain either.

Hours later, Mohinder woke up nude in a double bed with fresh white sheets and a very nude Sylar spooning at his back. Mohinder tensed.

"Good morning, sleepy head."

(Thank you for reading. I love hearing from you. Comments of any sort are always welcome.)