2007-06-23: Be Seeing You


Mara_icon.gif Max_icon.gif Mohinder_icon.gif

Summary: Mohinder requests that Mara tag along with him when he checks on Max. He is a little crazy after all. He's just… not as crazy as some. Disclaimer: Some blood and violence.

Guest Appearance by: canyouhearmenow.gif

Date It Happened: June 23, 2007

Be Seeing You

Primatech Paper, Hartsdale Branch - Cells

"Did you know it takes more pressure to crush a beer can than a human throat?" Max's query is casual, even friendly as he cinches his foream a tiny bit tighter around the throat of the guard he's holding, producing a strangled gasp from the man. "And asphyxiation. Don't even get me started on asphyxiation."

When Donald (our unfortunate guard) woke up this morning, the last thing he expected was that he'd get the shit choked out of him while bringing lunch and some pills to a crazy guy. But the crazy guy bit down on one of the pills, then started talking about placebo-this and deception-that. Next thing Donald knows, BAM! Commence chokin'.

Max narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to continue, but is interrupted when the door to his cell opens and guards with helmets, riot shields, and fiberglass batons pour in. He presses a kiss to Donald's temple and releases him, then squares his shoulders and tucks his chin defiantly, prepared to meet his fate. The first batonstroke catches him high on the cheek, snapping his head to the side and opening a bloody gash. Many more follow. Most are aimed for his shoulders and torso, but occasionally someone overzealous strikes him in the head or face. Though Max does his best to remain standing, his is soon driven to his knees, then onto his belly.

And this is the scene Mohinder walks in on as he heads down to follow up with Max. The security warning heard has his attention, and he breaks away from Mara at a fast clip. He hands the detective his medical bag that was in hand before heading to the source of the fracas. Frowning, eyes wide with surprise, the doctor stands in the doorway of the cell, silent for about half a second before shouting, "STOP! What is going on here?" Besides the blatantly obvious, in that a patient is currently being beaten down. Wading into the fray, he throws his own safety to the wind, "Back away from Mr. Swan and release him immediately!" He wants answers, but he'll get them later on the security tapes.

Having been silent for most of the trek to the cells with a definite air of the ill-at-ease, Mara's somber expression lets up to one of surprise as Mohinder hands off his bag and goes running. She books it down the hall after him, stopping in the doorway behind him. "Bloody hell!" What the hell is wrong with people? Can't they see he's already down? This is why, despite being a proud member of the proverbial Boys in Blue, she's never been fond of riot police.

Max coughs and catches his breath in a spray of blood. Sometime during the exchange, a particularly thoughtful guard struck him across the mouth. He props his hands under his body and levers himself several inches off the ground, then spits out a bloody wad of saliva. When he finally drags himself back onto his knees and his face is visible, it's a mess of bruises, cuts, and scrapes.

The guards are beginning to disperse. Slowly. A few are lingering. One glares at Mohinder, then clubs Max on the shoulder a final time before departing with the rest.

Max staggers, but he doesn't fall. He blinks, then dashes blood away from his eyes. "Docter Suresh? Thank you for your timely intervention. And I'm grateful to your friend as well." The words are intelligible, but are slurred by loosened teeth and rapidly swelling lips.

Mohinder glares in return at the guard who refused to stand down. For this.. the doctor pulls rank. "I believe I told you to stop and back away, not proceed further." There's a threat to his tone that there shall reprimands to come for that. Pushing past the dispersing guards, Mohinder heads straight for Max. "Easy there, come along, sit back down." It's fortunate that he did have a kit with him for other reasons. "Mara," he calls over his shoulder, "I need my bag. I meant to run some routine tests on Mr. Swan here, but now it looks like that shall have to wait."

Mara nods quickly and approaches the doctor and his new patient, handing off the bag. She winces as she looks over Max, reaching up to touch her face gingerly, absently. She sympathises. Does she ever. "Whatever you need me to do, Doctor Suresh." All business down here.

"I'm afraid that I deserved it. You sent me a placebo, sir. A sugar pill. I was most insulted." Despite his battered condition, Max manages a smirk. He meets Mohinder's brown eyes squarely with his blue ones and deadpans, "I chose to express myself through interpretive dance." He pauses to let out a low chuckle. "I'm willing to call it a misunderstanding if they are. No hard feelings necessary. God, my kidneys hurt. Can I have the real Percocet now?"

Mohinder opens up his bag, inside is typical first aid gear.. along with other medical cases containing not so medical things. "Let's start by helping Mr. Swan clean his wounds. No. You most certainly did not deserve this treatment. Regardless of how the matter started.. as for the placebo.. you have my apologies. After our conversation earlier, I did have to rule out the possibility that your pain was all in your mind. Part of a mental addiction, a reasoning for your body needing the medication." Before he can volunteer any medication.. his cellphone rings. Of all the times for that to happen. He pulls out his phone, in case it is Molly calling him, but when he sees the number he frowns…

Okay, so maybe a little less sympathetic now. Mara narrows her eyes just slightly. "A real piece of work, isn't he?" She frowns at the mention of painkiller addiction. "Percocet? Really? That do it for you?" The frown melts away to curiosity when Mohinder's phone rings. His own expression doesn't sit well with her.

As Mohinder is occupied by his phone, Max lifts his head to better expose his injuries to Mara. His expression is neutral, so it's unclear if he expects her to treat them or if he's showing them off like prizes won at a carnival. Probably a bit of both. There is a cut high on his cheekbone that's still bleeding freely, another on his scalp, one nostril is oozing blood and his visage is spotted with contusions. The worst of it ends there. Other than being a roadmap of brutality-inspired bruises, his limbs and torso seem to be intact. "I find Percocet in moderate doses is effective without being debilitating," he replies. "And when you chew them, the taste is tolerable."

Mohinder's expression falls sharply into something like surprise, but more of a color draining from the face sort of surprise. "Sylar." His voice is controlled and very neutral in tone as he tries to control himself. He stares across, trying to meet Mara's gaze.. then.. he puts his phone on speaker. Sorry Max.. your issues with Percocet might have to wait a bit. "What is that you want, Sylar?"

If Mohinder looks shocked, Mara looks horrified. And she is. The blood drains from her face and she actually turns a faint shade of green, looking about ready to be physically ill. And actually looking about ready like she's about to start climbing the walls or something. She actually backs up a step, eyes wide and glistening already with tears. "No!" she whispers in disbelief. "Oh God, it can't be."

On the other end of the line, Sylar chuckles slightly. "Such a warm greeting, doctor. Haven't you missed me?"

If Mohinder looks shocked, and Mara looks horrified, Max looks oblivious. "Okay. I'll just…" he reaches out to snag the doctor's bag. He seems to know just what he's looking for, because he has a syringe out in a matter of seconds. With practiced ease, he thrusts it into a vein in his arm and depresses the plunger. Almost immediately, his muscles begin to relax and he breathes a sigh of relief. When he drops the syringe, the label becomes visible. Morphine.

Mohinder's expression remains that controlled form of neutral. "Not particularly, I must say. I do however find it amazing that Kellie and yourself have managed to evade capture and notice for this long." The geneticist is so focused on the conversation with Sylar that he's very late to react to Max until it's too late. "Dammit!" His head whips around and yes, he's definitely too late to stop Max with the morphine. Another curse is uttered.. too late.. he'll just have to deal with the aftermath once he's done with the psychopath.

From the phone, Sylar's voice resounds in the room, "Oh, I have my ways, doctor. However, I must be quick. I called you for a reason, not for small talk. I need you to give the detective a message for me. I think you know which detective."

"Tell her yourself Sylar," Mohinder says, "I have you on speakerphone."

Mara slaps her hands over her mouth to muffle a shriek of fright when she actually hears the voice coming through Mohinder's phone speaker. She closes her eyes and slides her hands back down to her sides. "One…" she whispers. "Two… Three… Four…" She takes in a deep breath. "Five." Her eyes open again and she stares at the phone almost as if she could see the man on the other line. "Hello, Gabriel. Have you missed me?" Mara's voice is calm. And though she's still shaking, at least she sounds composed.

Max is now pawing through the contents of the case and picking out a few items so he can attend to his own injuries. Gauze. Ointments. Adhesive tape. A blister pack of Vicodin, which he attempts to surreptitiously tuck under his thigh and out of sight. When he has his supples assembled, he presses a wad of gauze to the cut on his cheek. His pupils are dilating from the morphine, but he still seems alert as he glances back and forth from Mohinder to Mara. He blinks owlishly, then mutters under his breath, "Mmm. Yes, Sylar. Important fellow, I'm sure. Don't mind me, I'll just mop blood off of my own face."

Sylar says nothing at first, but begins to speak, his voice barely audible through the phone. "Most likely not in the way you're thinking, detective. I only have one thing to say to you. As you're aware, I know you're still around. Still… ticking, so to speak. Your time is running out. I would keep a careful eye on your surroundings." The killer pauses, and when he speaks again, the sinister smile can be heard in his voice. "Oh, and detective? Be seeing you."

Mohinder flashes a dark look at Max. He is taking inventory of his bag later. This is also rehab for you mister. But for this moment, he has more important things to focus on, like the psycho on the phone. Suresh stares sharply across at Mara even as the call ends and he doesn't get a chance to utter a retort. His phone is snapped shut and he's up from the floor.. again.. Max. You. Later. "Mara.. You know he's feeding off your fear, and will only enjoy your reactions further."

She knows. Oh, how she knows. But in the privacy (well, out of view of the prying eyes of Gabriel Gray) of this cell, Mara indulges her fear. For just a brief moment she wavers before she hits the floor. Hard. But there's no resounding cry or grunt to accompany what surely must have been a painful fall. She's shaking like a leaf, laying on her side, and taking in deep, gasping breaths - silent sobs.

On the verge of trying to snatch more pills or syringes, Max drops Mohinder's bag like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Nodding amiably, he makes a show of returning the powerful, injectable sedative he'd been planning to lift. Then he returns to cleaning up his bashed-in face. When the flow of blood on his cheek slows, he quickly retrieves a tube of antibiotic ointment from his small pile on the bed and spreads on a fingertip's worth. Mara's distress earns her a raised eyebrow from toe captive sociopath. "The Doctor is right. You're so afraid that I can smell it. Trust me, it's only going to encourage him."

"Damn," Mohinder utters before rushing over to try and catch Mara. "Easy. Take it easy. Deep breaths." He looks between his original patient, now this one. Letting Mara lay where she has dropped herself, he reaches over to give the detective's shoulder a comforting squeeze with his hand. "Mr. Swan, I would greatly appreciate it if you would put everything you have 'found' back where it belongs. In my bag. I assure you that you will no longer be given placebo and you will get what you need to assist with the pain… and I would like a closer look at your injuries.. to rule out if stitches will be necessary."

Mara lifts her head weakly and looks up at Mohinder. "He can't…" She closes her eyes and swallows uncomfortably. "What am I going to do? What am I…"

Max's only reply to the Doctor is a small smile. He returns everything but the purloined Vicodin and the used gauze to Mohinder's bag, then reaches forward to set it on the floor and well out of easy reach. Then he uses his improvised swab to blot collecting blood from his upper lip before staunching the flow from his nose. "If this is a private matter I'd be happy to wait outside," he says mildly.

"We'll think of something. Alright? Try not to panic.. or rather.. allow yourself to panic now, but clear your head for later. Right now, you're giving him precisely what he wants." Mohinder gives Mara's shoulder another squeeze before he moves away and drops to one knee to begin inspection of his bag.. then holds a hand out expectantly to Max. Hand it over. You know what you're hiding. "Your waiting outside won't be necessary Mr. Swan. Simply return to your seat. We aren't quite finished here."

Mara takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Finally, she nods. He's absolutely right, of course. But it isn't his head that Gray wants to slice the top off of, is it? She forces herself into a sitting position. "What do we do? We've learned escorts don't work. And I can't stand bein' in hiding. What do we do?" She wipes the tears away with her fingers.

"Nothing gets by you, Doctor Suresh. I'm impressed." Max pulls the blister pack of painkillers from under his legs and tosses it into the open bag. "That's all. Unless you want to have her," Max points at the cringing Mara "search me more thoroughly. I find the sight of a detective crushed by fear to be oddly alluring." His statement is punctuated will a smile that could be considered flirtatious if he wasn't so badly cut and bruised from his encounter with the guards. The gaze he sends Mara's way is inquisitive, appraising, and predatory at the same time. "Has he broken you, lover? Or are you still fighting him?"

Mohinder keeps his hand out until Max hands over whatever it is he has swiped. The doctor's not sure what, but Max is clearly an addict, so it's safe to presume something else is being held onto. "Mara. We will think of something. We know how difficult it is to fend off Sylar. That monster is more resilient than a cockroach." His hand drops as Max tosses the blister pack into his bag and he resumes putting things back in place and.. CLOSING the bag. He rises to his feet then stops and stares at Max, a look of disapproval forming on his face. "Mr. Swan, that's quite enough. She has every good reason to fear that .. thing on the phone. He has brutally murdered many people.. and I feel the need to point out.. my father included." There's a sharp tone to his words, hopefully enough to call to Max's attention.

Mara fixes Mohinder with a serious gaze. "Stop sayin' that name," she demands. "You say that bloody name, and it's givin' him what he wants." So don't you lecture me. And as for you— "Good God," she murmurs as she studies Max's face. "Does that remind you of anybody you know?" If he was attempting to creep her out, he's failed. It's just too familiar. It sparks something within her. And she smiles.

It's the rebuke from Mohinder that catches Max's notice. Though it's painful, his face pulls into an apologetic frown. "I am very sorry," he murmurs sincerely. "I admired your father's work a great deal. I was not aware we were discussing his murderer. Considering the circumstances, my comment was in very poor taste." Despite his words, his eyes sparkle merrily when he looks Mara over again from head to toe.

Mohinder sighs softly as he looks towards Mara. This old argument again. One he doesn't engage in at this time. "Mara, let's go back to the lab and talk.. Mr. Swan.. I shall send a nurse down to further tend to you.. and apology is accepted.. although not necessary. You had no way of knowing. Suffice to say for now, that thing you heard on the phone? He's incredibly dangerous.. I cannot stress how dangerous he is, and how much of a psychopath he is as well." He looks towards Max, expression grave and sober as he speaks to the man. "A nurse shall be down shortly, and the guards tended to for their actions. Mara, with me please."

Did he just order her around? Mara wipes her eyes again and follows after Mohinder. She stops in the doorway and sends a glance over her shoulder to Max. Her gaze lingers for a moment and then she turns again to leave.

Max nods and touches two fingers to his brow in a brief salute as Mohinder and Mara depart. "Goodbye, Doctor Suresh. Goodbye, Detective. Do come again." He meets Mara's eyes unabashedly, holding her gaze for several seconds before he assumes the same posture he's held for much of the day. Perched on the edge of the bed, palms resting lightly on his thighs, eyes closed, breathing deep and even.

Mohinder followed up with 'please'! Doesn't that count for something? He too gives another look towards Max before he follows Mara out, placing a hand to her shoulder. He leaves the locking up of the cell to the guards that stayed by the door. Who do so, promptly in fact.

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