Please Pick Up
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. This is written strictly for entertainment. I make no profit off of this. No copyright infringement intended.
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder, minor mention of Matt/Daphne (due to the events of the previous chapter.)
Author's Note: This takes place at the beginning of Fugitives.
Months drifted by and there was only silence from Mohinder. He tried to fade into the bustle of the city and managed to drown out the voices calling to him. He couldn't look at himself, much less the people he still loved. He couldn't bring himself to answer the phone when Molly called and buried all thoughts of Matt. He had always judged Sylar so damn harshly, yet he had nearly fallen in the same trap.
When had monster and man become one, so easily merge but so hard to take apart? When did Mohinder lose himself?
Matt thought he was happy. He had Daphne, their future, Molly's call every Friday. Yet every time he walked in the door he expected to see Mohinder somewhere in the apartment. He thought he would open the bedroom door to find his clothes tossed onto the bed, an order for him to fold his damn laundry and to stop leaving it in the basket. He couldn't help but hope to find spices in the cabinets instead of cans. He watched where he sat in case Mohinder had forgotten to move his glasses. No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. He knew what was missing but could do nothing to change it.
It was a habit. Without fail, when Friday-at least in New York-rolled around Molly picked up the phone. She would dial Mohinder's number first, hoping that he was home. Even if he was he never answered, no matter how much she wanted him to. Things hadn't been the same since the three of them parted. Even Matt started to sound distant, though he always picked up. The day he didn't, she sat down and cried.