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Entry tags:
Sylar/Mohinder--037. Survive
Title: Retter
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Prompt: Survive
Summary: How does a geneticist survive an explosion?
He’d given up calling for help.
His throat was raw, ruined from yelling, screaming for someone to come. But that had proven to be a worthless endeavor-and maybe there was no one left to come.
There was blood in his eyes. Everywhere, it seemed, but it mostly caked in his lashes with dirt and ash, fighting against his efforts to stay awake.
Everything had been bright, so bright, and then the chaos and panic and disaster/failure, and Mohinder wasn’t even sure what’d happened anymore, only that everything was very, very wrong. It was dark now, and quiet.
The stillness was broken only by the occasional twitch of Mohinder’s limbs-stuck and buried and not really feeling. He was so tired, and the weight was so heavy. Too heavy, for too long.
Something was coming, crunching through the rubble. Closer, closer. Human instinct, a scientific mind told him to run, get away, but he could barely breathe, much less move.
Mohinder might have been blind, for all the use his eyes were. The dust was too thick, his own eyelids pulled too low. The shape in front of him was just that, a shape. Nothing more. There had been nothing to hear since the sound of the city falling down around him, but now it was an explosion; metal creaking, a low , familiar murmur [it’s a someone, then. Someone had come.], the ground shifting and falling away.
The pressure was gone. Everything was gone; the dull pain, the numbing heaviness. Mohinder blacked out.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Prompt: Survive
Summary: How does a geneticist survive an explosion?
He’d given up calling for help.
His throat was raw, ruined from yelling, screaming for someone to come. But that had proven to be a worthless endeavor-and maybe there was no one left to come.
There was blood in his eyes. Everywhere, it seemed, but it mostly caked in his lashes with dirt and ash, fighting against his efforts to stay awake.
Everything had been bright, so bright, and then the chaos and panic and disaster/failure, and Mohinder wasn’t even sure what’d happened anymore, only that everything was very, very wrong. It was dark now, and quiet.
The stillness was broken only by the occasional twitch of Mohinder’s limbs-stuck and buried and not really feeling. He was so tired, and the weight was so heavy. Too heavy, for too long.
Something was coming, crunching through the rubble. Closer, closer. Human instinct, a scientific mind told him to run, get away, but he could barely breathe, much less move.
Mohinder might have been blind, for all the use his eyes were. The dust was too thick, his own eyelids pulled too low. The shape in front of him was just that, a shape. Nothing more. There had been nothing to hear since the sound of the city falling down around him, but now it was an explosion; metal creaking, a low , familiar murmur [it’s a someone, then. Someone had come.], the ground shifting and falling away.
The pressure was gone. Everything was gone; the dull pain, the numbing heaviness. Mohinder blacked out.