[Mohinder stops seizing after about a minute, but remains unconscious for another few after that. When he comes to, he blinks up at Sylar, bleary-eyed. Sweat drips off his brow. And he can feel Sylar holding his hand. The physical comfort, not common in his adult years, is welcome. He squeezes it back.
And he feels the snap of bones under his fingertips. It doesn't feel right. He lets go.]
Wha-? Sylar? What's--
[It's possible he's been artificially unconscious too many times today.]
no subject
And he feels the snap of bones under his fingertips. It doesn't feel right. He lets go.]
Wha-? Sylar? What's--
[It's possible he's been artificially unconscious too many times today.]