Three's a Crowd

During the time when Octavia drifted into a smooth, cozy sleep in an environment of warm familiarity—the others continued talking, laughing, and watching YouTube until they eventually grew tired as well.

Mohinder was the first to notice that Octavia had fallen asleep, and he quietly stepped behind the loveseat, removing the brown blanket from the back of it and draping it over her. Not long after that—everyone else kicked their shoes off and laid down, Samuel on the side section of the couch, Mohinder lying on the straighter part of it, Hailey snoozing peacefully with the recliner propped fully back, and Eli silently stepping out of the basement to sleep in his own bedroom.

They all slept soundly after all of their long, dramatic days had come to a surprisingly comfortable end, YouTube softly circulating between videos on the TV all night, the lights all turned off, and the room peaceful and serene.

When morning arrived—Samuel and Hailey were the first to wake up and leave the house.

Samuel was insisting that they go to the police station and file a report about everything that had transpired between Hailey and her ex yesterday—and he also planned to set up at the flea market this morning, which was something that needed to be done earlier rather than later. So, the two of them left in Samuel’s van together at the crack of dawn.

As more time passed, and as the small, high window of the basement slowly began to cast a beam of sunlight into the dusty room, Octavia blinked herself awake, MiMi excitedly bouncing around on her and whipping her tail with rapid excitement.

Octavia petted her and kissed her on the head, sitting up and seeing that nobody else was in the basement. She then checked her phone, seeing that it was almost nine in the morning.

Sighing, her mind instantly raced to everything she needed to do; she didn’t have any PCA obligations today, but she did have activism plans. She still needed to do something about the data center—she a secret plan in mind that she’d been mulling over for the past day, which would require bamboo seeds—and she still had to go out and perform that task.

Octavia sat on the loveseat and opened her website on her phone, searching the forums and instantly seeing a list of new posts. They all had titles like NEW FLOCK CAMERAS?! THEY PUT UP MORE FLOCK CAMERAS! FLOCK CAMERA LOCATIONS?

“Oh… no the hell they didn’t,” Octavia growled under her breath, reading the post that listed the locations of the apparent new flock cameras in Wallace.

On the forum post, she saw seven locations of new flock camera, all places that she recognized offhandedly—and they were the exact same locations as the ones that had previously been built, the ones that had since been dismantled by all of the nameless activists in the area, including Octavia herself.

“You are actually gonna make me do this shit again,” she grumbled. “Fuckin’a…”

She glared down at her phone, feeling stressed and deeply indignant. The federal government certainly seemed to think that they were allowed to do whatever they pleased in Wallace County, regardless of what the people said or voted for—and she was getting incredibly fed up with it now. Data centers, flock cameras, the prices of everything skyrocketing—it was plain as day that the beginning of a dystopia was forming around her, and she couldn’t stand the thought of watching her home deteriorate into that state even more than it already had.

“C’mon, lil’ girl.” Octavia grabbed MiMi and stormed up the stairs. “We got shit to do.”

She thundered up to the door and pushed it open, emerging in the hallway and storming down it with a brisk stride, marching across the spacious entry area directly toward the front door. Now, she had a lot to do—and she’d have to pay a visit to her storage unit and obtain her saw as well as—

“’Ey!” someone hollered from behind her, snapping her out of her fervent thoughts and making her wheel around.

Near the doorway of the living room—Eli and Mohinder were standing together and talking, both of them now staring across the room at her, Eli gently waving for her to approach them.

“Where you runnin’ off to, girl?” he asked her, nodding sideways. “C’mere.”

Octavia sighed impatiently, walking over to them and placing MiMi down on the floor so she would stop squirming to escape.

“Why you tryinna take off?” Eli inquired.

“I j…” Octavia hesitated, glimpsing over at Mohinder. “I just have a lot to do today…”

“Well… you can’t go runnin’ off when we’re over here tryinna plan your future, now,” Eli laughed.

Octavia blinked and shot him a double-take. “Wha?”

“This was just an idea we had,” Mohinder remarked, raising a finger. “It’s not something you have to do if you don’t want to, but… we both thought it might be a good idea if… Eli actually hired you as a home employee.”

Octavia stared at him, then at Eli.

“No schedule,” Eli said, giving her a look. “No punch-ins, and no real rules aside from what you and Momma decide on. I figured you having a job without a strict schedule would make certain other proclivities of yours a bit… easier.”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed.

Eli paused and glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to be eavesdropping. Then, he leaned closer and slightly lowered his voice.

“Momma needs a PCA, no matter what the fuck she says,” Eli whispered to her. “And if you were here PCA, then… y’know… you’d have a work-from-home job, and I’d be doin’ a lot less worryin’ my ass off whenever I leave.”

Octavia stared, her mouth drifting agape, thinking of her current job and wondering if she could simply leave it. Her job right now wasn’t exactly strict, either—she had an app that scheduled her home visits with her care clients—but being a PCA exclusively in Eli’s home would be far easier, and it would certainly benefit everyone involved.

Still—something about relinquishing her independence and choosing to rely on Eli instead put a nervous lump in the pit of her stomach, and she let out a heavy cloud of breath.

“Hey. This is for everyone,” Eli assured her, reading her expression. “Literally… everyone. We got a good team, here. I’m the money man… Sam’s the handyman… Lee-Lee’s the chef… Mohinder’s the medic… and you’re the ultimate caregiver, gonna be gathering and organizing everything we might need, and lookin’ after everyone while you do. You’re like a doomsday homemaker. Ya’ know what I mean?”

Octavia met his eyes, slowly understanding his meaning now. It seemed that Eli’s doomsday-prepping plan relied on her being obligated to the home rather than work elsewhere—and, in all honesty, she couldn’t disagree with him on the matter. It truly would be her role here.

“Yeah,” she said definitively. “I know what you mean...”

“Good. Now… I’ve gotta call myself an Uber, and I’ve gotta go meet a really boring guy about a really annoying thing,” Eli said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a red debit card, holding it out between two fingers. “But I want you to take this… and buy or order whatever we might need. No limits. Within reason, though… like… don’t buy one single item for over ten-thousand dollars or some crazy shit.”

Octavia hesitated, gazing at the card and hesitantly taking it, giving him an uncertain look.

“Are you sure…?” she muttered.

“Yep. Anything and everything that we might need… for any kind of scenario,” Eli stated, raising his eyebrows and staring into her intently. “Ya’ feel me?”

Octavia noted his serious expression, giving him a nod and pocketing the card.

“Gotcha,” she affirmed.

Mohinder glanced oddly between the two of them, MiMi running around his feet and only pausing to gnaw on his shoes.

“A’ight… I gotta head out,” Eli said, marching off and turning halfway around, still talking to them as he walked away. “But you oughta give him a ride, OC… because Mr. Medic here still gotta get his car and everything, y’know… all that good shit.”

Octavia glimpsed over at Mohinder, then back.

“Give y’all some time to catch up,” Eli smirked, winking and facing fully away as he strolled off toward the front door.

They both watched as he opened the door and left the house.

“Um… okay,” Octavia mumbled, bending down and collecting MiMi from the floor. “Well, you… you don’t have to work today, do you?”

“Ah… no, not now,” Mohinder replied, patting on his jean pocket. “I nearly went in for work, but my friend Alex messaged me and told me I was given time off, so… I’m free. They’re giving me a bit of time to… recover, I suppose…”

Octavia made a nod, biting her lip and pondering on the horrific thing Mohinder had endured last night, choosing not to speak on it right now.

“Okay, well… I have a few errands to run, so… I can either take you straight there and drop you off at your car, or you can just ride with me to do my errands before we go to your car,” Octavia said with a shrug. “I’m good with either one.”

“Oh, I um… I actually might need some help when we get there,” Mohinder said, raising a finger and making a wincing sort of face. “I’m going to try to pack all of my most needed belongings into my car and move everything out of the apartment today… and I don’t want to have to go back there afterwards… so… I was going to ask if you minded…”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind,” Octavia told him honestly. “I can help you pack stuff. We might be able to fit some in my car, too. You don’t have any big furniture you wanna move, do you?”

“No… no,” Mohinder laughed, shaking his head. “It’s just a studio. Not much room for furniture. I just want my regular belongings… and I can buy another bed.”

“Gotcha, gotcha.”

Octavia and Mohinder broke into a stride together, walking out of the house and sauntering down the pathway to the driveway. They climbed into the KIA Soul and pulled the doors shut.

As Octavia started the car, placed her phone on its mount, and strapped her seatbelt on, she resisted the urge to glimpse over at him, feeling the strangest spark of nervousness as she backed up and cruised down the driveway toward the road.

She was oddly inspired today—partly out of an activist’s natural anger, and partly out of truly wanting to help her old friends out—and she also felt the oddest sensation deep inside that was reminiscent of something she hadn’t felt since high school, and she was honestly surprised to find that that feeling was still there, even after all of this time.

She felt embarrassed about doing any of her conspiracy-theorizing or doomsday-prepping in front of her friends, and she still felt as if she ought to hide it from them. But now—she had a lot of things to do that resided in the realms of conspiracies, activism, or prepping, and she currently had Mohinder by her side. The thought of him watching her do such things still made her feel a touch anxious, even now.

Perhaps she wouldn’t do the riskier parts of it just yet; she’d wait to be alone before she did anything like that.

Her music played softly from the car speakers as she drove peacefully down the street, heading toward town.

Mohinder gazed out the passenger window with a distant stare, and Octavia glanced at him, wondering what she should say. She hadn’t seen him or spent any time alone with him for many years, and she felt a bit surprised at herself now—because she felt just the way she had back then, content and at peace to simply be in his presence again.

It seemed that her crush from her high school days had persisted throughout all these years.

Octavia stared at the road ahead, thinking of the way Eli had winked at her before walking off. He acted as if he’d known it beforehand, and now, she strongly suspected he had.

“Son of a bitch playing matchmaker with me,” she murmured faintly under her breath.

“Hm…?” Mohinder moaned, straightening up in his seat.

Octavia blinked and shook her head once. “Nothing, sorry… just thinking out loud. I think I’ll run my errands later. It’s better if I do them late, anyway. Let’s do yours first.”

Mohinder nodded and rested his cheek to his palm again, returning his gaze to the window.

Octavia approached the intersection bordering town, easing to a stop at the red light and glancing over at him again.

“So what, um… what’s life been like since high school?” she asked. “I’m kinda curious what ever happened with your entire college plan, and all that.”

Mohinder made a thoughtful face for a second, then sighed and made a shrug, straightening out again. “Well, that… um… didn’t exactly pan out. I came back home to visit for Christmas, and… my parents and I got in a car accident.”

Octavia swallowed, biting her lip and feeling a grave sensation festering in the pit of her stomach.

“They didn’t make it,” Mohinder mumbled, staring distantly out the windshield.

Octavia barely opened her mouth, a surge of empathy coursing through her, and she frowned and sighed, searching her mind for what to say. She hadn’t expected something so horrible and traumatic to have happened to him so soon after graduation, and she almost kicked herself for not knowing it before.

“God… I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

“I’ve made my peace with it,” Mohinder muttered. “It actually spurred me on the path of becoming an EMT… which, I have to say, I’m grateful I did. I don’t particularly trust the medical system in the way I used to. God knows what it would be like to be an actual doctor right now… especially if you dare to try to cling onto having principles and morals. All the good ones don’t even want to be where they are anymore… at least not the ones I know at Wallace Medical Center.”

Octavia nodded quietly, pondering on this and giving him a curious sort of look. Back in the day, she remembered Mohinder being a bit more naïve and trusting of all of the systems in the world—but now, it seemed he no longer was.

“Can’t disagree with you there,” she remarked.

The light turned green, and she cruised forward, Mohinder wearing a reflective expression as they cruised through the intersection into town.

“But who am I to talk about morals,” he uttered.

Octavia gave him another glimpse while she drove.

“Whaddo you mean…?” she wondered.

Mohinder sighed, resting his head back to the seat.

“I always thought of myself as… generally moral… and upstanding,” he said. “Not particularly amazing in any way… just… normal, and decent. But the truth of it is just… not what I thought it would be at all. I’ve been a rotten friend to everyone… been a lousy boyfriend… and I thought I’d at least be a good EMT, but I couldn’t even…”

He stopped and let out another breath, running a hand down his face and shaking his head.

“Never mind,” he breathed.

Octavia stared forward, slowly approaching the apartment complex across from the Endzone. She didn’t say anything right away; she simply slowed, flipped her turn signal on, and drove smoothly into the parking lot, stopping the car in a vacant space and powering off the engine.

Then, she turned in her seat and faced him.

“I definitely don’t think you’ve actually been bad to anyone,” Octavia told him honestly. “I think you’re just having a lot of crap crash down on you.”

Mohinder turned his head and met her eyes, huffing out another breath and massaging his forehead.

“Sam took me in after my mother and father were killed… and… I repaid him by abandoning him when he desperately needed someone,” he told her. “He got addicted to heroin, and I couldn’t get him to stop, so… I just left without saying a word.”

“Well, yeah… your parents died,” Octavia replied incredulously. “You couldn’t just watch your best friend kill himself, too. Of course you left. You don’t really think you were evil for doing that, do you?”

“Hard to tell anymore,” Mohinder mumbled.

“Hey… it sounds like you did everything you could for him at the time,” Octavia assured. “But addicts can’t get totally fixed without choosing it. And he did. Eventually.”

Mohinder scoffed out a noise that might have been a laugh.

“And I bet you’ve saved a lot of lives being an EMT,” Octavia suspected, smirking and smacking him lightly on the arm.

Mohinder glanced at her, shrugging and nodding in agreement.

“And… what exactly did you do to this girlfriend?” Octavia inquired. “Because… to me… it sounds like all you did was run into some old friends, and she got upset about it.”

Mohinder stared into the glove box, biting his bottom lip and pondering on this.

“Listen. You… are feeling a lot of things right now, and you’re just channeling it into reflection and self-doubt because you don’t know where else to put it,” Octavia told him, clutching his arm and giving it a shake. “That’s what a lot of people do… but only people who actually give a damn. And that alone means you’re a good person. You just need to let yourself feel everything. You have to feel… and process… and just let it happen. It’s gonna suck… but it’s also gonna end. Okay?”

Mohinder stared over at her wordlessly for a moment, then managed a smile and gave her a nod, gently patting the top of her hand.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, resting his hand atop hers.

Octavia swallowed and nodded. “Well… I mean it. You’re not a bad person. You’re like the sweetest person I ever—”

She was cut off by Mohinder’s phone ringing, and he reached into his jacket and pulled it out, swiping the screen and answering the call. Octavia removed her hand from him and sank back quietly.

“Oh… hi,” Mohinder said to whoever was on the phone, sounding slightly surprised. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you today… not, um… not so soon, at least…”

“Well… I thought about what you told me last night,” Rachel spoke into his ear. “And I’m… I’m really sorry. That sounds so tragic. I wish I would’ve been there for you.”

“Oh… no, Rachel, don’t worry about that,” Mohinder replied.

Octavia turned away, leaning back against her seat and sighing.

“Well, I just… I don’t know, I feel bad,” Rachel said. “I haven’t had enough time for you, and then all that happened, and… I guess I felt annoyed because you had to go to other people to feel better because I’m not around enough.”

Mohinder thumped his head back to the seat. “Well, it was… it was largely circumstantial, honestly. It had very little to do with you. Don’t worry about it.”

Octavia remained silent as she listened, looking out the driver door’s window and pretending not to pay any attention to their conversation. Personally, after last night, she didn’t understand how Mohinder could forgive Rachel so quickly and easily, but she tried to put it out of her mind. It wasn’t her business…

Wanting to focus on something else for the moment, she pulled out her phone, opening her notepad app and quickly typing out a list of everything she wanted to get today, from the prepping items funded by Eli to her personal tools for her vigilante activities that would transpire after dark. Her notifications bar was filling up already today, flooding with posts on her website about the signs of an oncoming collapse or apocalypse, but she paid them no mind, as she was rather used to seeing such things in her usual online circles…

“We’re about to now, actually,” Mohinder was telling his girlfriend. “My old friend, Eli… he’s giving me a place to stay… so I’m about to get my things out of the apartment…”

“Oh… you’re at the complex? Do you need any help?” Rachel offered. “I just got done showing a house right around the block. I’m not that far away.”

Octavia’s eyes flickered up from her phone the moment she heard this, glaring at the steering wheel and feeling a harder churning in the pit of her stomach, silently praying that this woman would not show up here.

“Really? Okay… um… sure,” Mohinder uttered, glimpsing at Octavia and smirking. “Another pair of hands would make it faster. Won’t be much heavy-lifting, either… except for my TV and my table, but I can get those myself.”

“Okay,” Rachel replied, sounding pleased. “I’ll be there in like two minutes. Love you!”

“Love you too,” Mohinder said with a smile. “Bye.”

He hung up and stuffed his phone away.

“Well. That was a nice surprise,” Mohinder remarked, popping the passenger door open. “She’s being supportive. God knows I could use that today…”

He climbed out of the car, Octavia staring after him for a moment before stepping out as well.

They both walked around the car, stood behind its rear bumper, and gazed up at the rickety metal stairway.

“Which one is yours?” Octavia asked.

Mohinder pointed up at the apartment on the far left corner of the second floor. “That one, there.”

Octavia nodded, her eyes wandering over to the right side of the unkempt building, landing on the dark apartment on the first floor, its door ajar, its living room window black, and its entryway still blocked off by yellow caution tape that was shifting ever so gently in the wind, though there were no longer any police or people it scene now.

Mohinder glanced over at the yellow-taped door, then instantly looked away from it, motioning over to the old black four-door Sedan parked two spaces down.

“My car oughta fit the table with its legs folded up. My TV can go in yours, if you don’t mind,” Mohinder explained. “I don’t think it’ll move around much in your car.”

Octavia nodded again. “Yeah. Not a lot of spare room in there.”

Mohinder gave another involuntary glimpse to Wally’s apartment, then shook his head once and broke into a brisk stride toward the metal stairs. “Well, might as well start…”

Octavia followed him, remaining silent as they thumped up the metal stairway. She’d thought of several things that she wanted to say when they were talking in the car minutes ago—but, now that Rachel was coming, there was no point in trying to have a deep conversation. His girlfriend would soon be here to take on that role instead. Octavia only hoped that this Rachel person was sincere in her desire to be loving and supportive, because it certainly sounded like she felt very differently last night.

Octavia shook her head as they walked up to the second floor, trying her best to force all of this out of her thoughts, but she simply wasn’t able to. In fact—she was having several flashbacks now, sudden recollections of all the times during high school when similar things had happened before.

During their sophomore year, Mohinder spent five months dating a cheerleader named Rebecca, and that girl was pretentious and snobby towards all of Mohinder’s friends, particularly his female ones. Octavia remembered Rebecca making snide comments and demanding remarks to him whenever she approached the group and solicited him away, cocking her head at Mohinder, snapping her fingers and pointing to the ground beside her, as if she was ordering a dog to follow her without question. Octavia always hated how that girl treated Mohinder—and now, over two decades later, she felt the very same sensation squirming and gnawing deep inside her, and she simply couldn’t fathom why he ever put up with these types of people. It seemed like such a waste to have the loyal and compassionate Mohinder tied down to some woman who was cold, unfeeling, and uncaring altogether.

Octavia ran her hands down her face as they both stopped in front of his apartment door, thinking herself obsessive as she forced the thoughts away even harder. There was no reason for her to wallow in all of this aggravation, overthink, and mental baggage right now; they had work to do.

Mohinder pulled out his keys and inserted one into the door, but he paused, letting out a deep cloud of breath, his finger hanging loosely from the key ring.

Octavia eyed him. “Y’okay…?”

“Yeah, I jus…” Mohinder mumbled, sighing again. “Sorry…”

He shook his head and turned the key, opening the door and stepping into his dark studio apartment.

Octavia stopped in the doorway and glanced around the inside of the place; the bed was in the center off to the left, hardly messy, and the kitchenette was directly across from the front door, the Samsung TV standing on a foldable table just across from the bed, every light in the small home powered off except for the single overhead light above the stove, sunlight peeking into the room from the half-parted drapes, casting a glare over the faint dust particles in the air.

Mohinder stepped over to the short wooden dresser with dark chipping paint that stood beside the table and the TV, pulling the top drawer open and grabbing a mostly-used roll of plastic garbage bags. “I don’t intend to keep the dresser or the bed, I’m just gonna throw all the clothes and blankets into bags. I think I can figure out something to do with th…”

He suddenly stopped, making an odd face and squinting down at the open drawer.

Then, he reached inside, slowly pulling out a small, wrinkled paper with a torn edge, a sheet from a yellow notepad, and it had a sloppily-written note scribbled onto it.

Mohinder held the note up, narrowing his eyes at it. Moments later, he turned and sank down onto the edge of his bed, reading over it quietly.

Octavia slowly let go of the door, leaving it partially ajar, and she approached him, sitting beside him and saying nothing while he read the mysterious note. She merely peeked over his shoulder, and silently read it alongside him.

The note read;

Mohinder,
This is my last will and testament. I have a shitty little bundle of valuable Pokemon cards in sleeves, and I put them in a sock and stuck it in your top drawer. I know they’re worth something, but I’m not sure how much. I also left you everything else I own, and I had my will notarized while you were at work. You’ll find that under your clothes. I love you, man. There are demons in this world, and they will never leave me alone… but you’re the only person I ever knew who was an angel instead. Find the good people. Find the people like you. Keep them close to you… because you’re gonna need them, very soon. Godspeed, my friend. My only friend.
-Wally

Mohinder stared at the paper for a long, somber moment, opening his mouth, then closing it, glancing at the dresser for a split second before lowering the note and biting down onto his bottom lip. He then hung his head, resting his forehead to his fingertips, and he took in a long, trembling breath.

Octavia frowned sadly, feeling another wave of empathy wash over her, her heart aching for him. She reached out, gently stroking him along the back as he sat in still silence, his breaths deep and shaking, and his eyes sealed shut, trying his absolute best not keep a sudden barrage of emotions inside…

Knock, knock, knock.

Octavia looked to the door, and—seconds later—Mohinder did as well, sniffing and running a hand over his face.

Rachel now stood in the doorway, leaning halfway inside, her knuckles raised to the door, and her expression painted with chagrin. She wore a slender black outfit beneath her light tan overcoat today, complete with a stylish red scarf around her neck, her hair dark, shiny, and gorgeous as it coasted down over her shoulders in waves. She tilted her head slightly, squinting at Octavia and Mohinder before she stepped fully into the room.

“Hi, sweety,” Rachel said softly, sighing and giving him a sorrowful look, softly motioning to Octavia. “Um… who is…?”

“Oh, sorry… um… hey,” Octavia said, deciding to answer for him, standing and offering her hand. “My name is Octavia. I was out with our other friends last night when we all ran into each other… and I just… gave him a ride here.”

“Oh… okay,” Rachel nodded, returning her handshake. “Well… nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Octavia muttered, turning and glancing over at Mohinder, then back. “Um… we’re gonna start moving stuff in a second. We just…”

She trailed off, sighing heavily and not knowing how to explain what was going on now. Mohinder clearly needed a moment, but she couldn’t think of exactly how to say so.

Rachel peeked over at Mohinder with intrigue, marching over to him and sitting beside him where Octavia was moments ago. She leaned over, examining the note hanging from Mohinder’s fingertips, and then she let out a breath, flashing a flattened sort of frown and patting him on the back.

“Oh my gosh… I’m so sorry, hun,” Rachel said solemnly.

Mohinder faced her, looking as if he was preparing to speak, but he quickly silenced himself, shaking his head once more and lowering it, pressing his fist to his temple.

Rachel continued to stroke him, examining him, and glimpsing down at the note. Octavia simply stared at them, not knowing what to say or do, and for a long, tense moment, no one spoke.

Then, Rachel gave him one more pat on the back before reaching her feet, planting a tender kiss to the top of his head.

“I’ll get started for you… okay?” she said sweetly, combing his hairs back a bit. “You take all the time you need.”

At that, Rachel grabbed his roll of garbage bags and stepped toward the dresser.

Octavia watched her, feeling a touch of guilt inside as she observed this woman’s behavior. Perhaps Rachel wasn’t quite as rotten as she had first assumed.

Mohinder remained seated on the edge of the bed with his fist pressed to his forehead, hanging his head with his eyes shut. Octavia moved over to the kitchen and found no real dishes in the cabinets, only plastic ones, which meant they would not need any boxes, and the kitchen supplies could simply be places in garbage bags as well. So, she turned toward the dresser, hoping to get a bag to use.

Then, Octavia suddenly fell still at the edge of the kitchenette’s small tiled floor, her eyes narrowing sharply at the woman standing at the dresser.

Rachel was digging through the top drawer, pulling out an old gray sock with something thin, flat, and rectangular stuffed inside it. She placed it on the top, then dug around in the clothes until she also located the notarized will, a sheet of paper with a stamp on the bottom, and she laid it atop the dresser as well, now grabbing the sock containing the valuable Pokemon cards again and reaching inside it.

Octavia’s eyes shot over to Mohinder, to the note in his hand, then back to Rachel, a spark of anger igniting inside her.

“That—” she started, quickly catching herself and gulping, trying her best not to sound confrontational. “Hey, that—that’s what his friend left him, isn’t it?”

Rachel blinked and turned to Octavia, her hand lost inside of the old gray sock.

Mohinder swallowed, opening his eyes and raising his head, squinting at his girlfriend from behind.

“Yeah,” Rachel said simply, shrugging at Octavia. “I just wanna make sure they’re actually in sleeves, if they’re worth something. I don’t think we should let them get ruined, especially since they’re like… a final gift… you know?”

“Rachel,” Mohinder spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, but he stood and approached her, examining the sock in her hand and the will on the dresser. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m just… starting the whole moving process,” Rachel said, shrugging again. “And this stuff, right here… this is the kind of stuff that needs to be separated from everything else, right? I mean, it’s… it’s more important than everything else.”

“Give those to me.”

Mohinder ripped the sock out of her hand and snatched the will off of the dresser, holding it up and shaking it once in front of her face.

“Look at this. Do you see Rachel anywhere on this sheet of paper?” he asked, cocking his head and perking his brow. “No. You don’t. These are mine —and he left these to me .”

Rachel’s shoulders sank, her kind and concerned expression vanishing almost instantaneously, and she gave him a cold stare.

“Why in the hell are you acting so paranoid?” she snarled.

“ Paranoid? ” Mohinder laughed dryly. “This is exactly what you did when Alex’s brother decided to give me his old car. You went to meet with them behind my back—you assumed authority over the whole situation—and you tried to have the Sedan signed over into your name instead of mine. And you will not do that with Wally’s final keepsakes as well. I don’t know what your obsession is with needing to control everything in my life—but that is going to stop . Now .”

“All I did was open a drawer and take some stuff out of it!” Rachel proclaimed, spreading her arms open and shooting him a scowl. “And uh—yeah—I thought that’s what we all came here to do! Excuse the fuck out of me!”

“Yeah?” Mohinder uttered, nodding and raising the sock of Pokemon cards. “And it was just a simple coincidence that this was the first thing you went for, huh? Your cousin runs the card shop on Northshore, doesn’t he?”

Rachel fell instantly silent, huffing out a breath and glaring at him again.

“How much did you think you’d get out of these? Hm?” Mohinder griped, dangling the sock in front of her. “I’m not stupid. I know perfectly well what you were thinking—and if that’s all the help you’re going to be, then you might as well just leave right now, because I don’t need that today.”

“You know what? I think I will leave—because that’s clearly what you want,” Rachel snapped, swatting over at Octavia. “As long as you have your little team of backup bitches, then what the hell do you need me for?!”

Octavia opened her mouth to retort—but she reeled back in surprise when Mohinder stepped forward and responded instead, thrusting a finger at her.

“You—don’t say a word—against my friends ,” Mohinder growled through gritted teeth, rounding on Rachel and glaring heatedly into her eyes. “Every single one of them has done leagues more for me in the past twenty-four hours than you have ever done. So. You will speak to them, and about them, with respect. Do you understand me?”

Rachel rolled her neck and raised her brows at him, smirking condescendingly. “Is that a threat , Hindy?”

“Don’t push me right now,” Mohinder rumbled. “Not today.”

Rachel shot him a challenging look—then smacked her hands into his chest and shoved him back.

Mohinder barely moved, staggering slightly and looking away, his fist coiling shut by his side.

Octavia watched anxiously, her eyes darting back and forth between the two.

“Well. There you go. I pushed you.” Rachel stepped forward, tilting her head daringly at him. “What’re you gonna do? Huh? You gonna hit me? Go ahead.”

She shoved him again.

Mohinder took another step back, still avoiding her eyes, and taking a deep, forceful breath.

“Go ahead, you little pussy,” Rachel said nastily, looking to Octavia and laughing. “Either one of you—you just go right ahead. My father is the chief of police—so you just go right ahead and do something. I fucking dare you. My father could make you both fucking disappear if he wanted to. Do you know that? Hm? You wanna spend the rest of your life in jail? You wanna die and get dumped off in a sump somewhere? Huh?”

She paused looked for a reaction from either of them. When neither of them gave her one, she raised her hands to push Mohinder a third time—

“BACK OFF!” Octavia finally erupted—clasping Rachel by the arms and throwing her back with all her might.

Rachel stumbled awkwardly, nearly falling down as she scrambled backwards and clasped onto the table beside her, straightening up and ogling Octavia as if she had just changed colors before her very eyes.

“Oh, you wanna play?” Rachel hissed breathlessly. “You wanna play, bitch?”

She reached over and grabbed a vase from the side of the table—pitching it across the room and sending it smashing into Mohinder’s head—making him jolt back into the wall—

Rachel snatched up a lamp and threw it next—and Octavia swatted it out of the air painfully—shattering it to her forearm before lunging forward in a rage.

Mohinder winced, leaning against the far wall and clasping his aching skull, his eyes watering with hot tears. He blinked his vision straight and looked across the room—just in time to see Octavia kick the apartment door shut the very moment Rachel tried to reach for it.

Rachel then paused and backed away, glancing around frantically in search of another item to throw—and Octavia moved toward her with a dark, stoic visage, a face she rarely ever wore, an expression and a demeanor that was entirely different from her usual self.

She reached into her jacket, pulled out her black 357—and aimed it squarely at Rachel’s head.

Everything froze.

Mohinder’s mouth drifted agape in shock, and Rachel was rooted to the spot now, staring back at Octavia in absolute terror, the color draining from her face.

“Look at me,” Octavia glowered, leering into her without a hint of anxiety or hesitation. “Do I look like the kind of person who gives a single fuck who your daddy is? You’re not gonna scare me with your little bow to me or I’ll have you arrested bullshit. Not me. I don’t care what happens to me—but don’t you ever, ever , put your fucking hands on my friends.”

She took a step forward, Rachel gasping sharply, starting to tremble in her stance, Octavia’s gun inching steadily nearer.

“This isn’t my first time dealing with someone like you… and I’m gonna tell you something,” Octavia growled. “Even if your dad is the chief of police… you can’t prove I ever threatened your life. All this is gonna be is inadmissible hearsay.”

“Oc… Octavia,” Mohinder said, clearing his throat and raising his voice. “Please don’t…”

“I’m not gonna do anything,” Octavia assured him, returning her angry glare back to Rachel. “I just want this little bitch to remember me… because I can get away with some shit, too .”

She jutted her gun at her—making Rachel practically leap from her skin, shaking like a leaf from head to toe.

“I tried to be nice… I wanted to be cordial with you… and I just wanted to help my friend deal with this damn day,” Octavia told her honestly. “And… I’m still planning on doing that. So… if you wanna be a bitch about it… then… there’s the door.”

Then, Octavia stepped back, lowered the gun by her side, and cleared Rachel a path to leave, gesturing over to the door in a strangely polite way.

“Go ahead,” Octavia said simply, nodding over at the door. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Go ahead.”

Rachel took in another trembling breath, glancing over at Mohinder, then back, trying to step toward the door and barely managing to walk. After a moment of struggle, she planted her hand to the window and used it for support as she meandered over to the door, pulling it open and vanishing outside.

The door was left partially ajar after she left, sunlight bleeding into the room from the open crack.

There was a long, heavy pause.

Mohinder let out a massive cloud of breath, looking to Octavia with a mixed expression.

Octavia stuffed her gun away, turned to the dresser, and simply grabbed one of the trash bags, marching over to the kitchenette and angrily packing his smaller kitchen items.

“I’m sorry,” she said while shoving things into the bag, not looking at him, and not stopping. “But people like her are straight-up predators, and I personally don’t want that in my life. I don’t appreciate being threatened with death and jail time when I did literally nothing to her. I only did something that drastic so she wouldn’t come back around. Sorry, but it felt necessary to me. Every time I’ve ever given a person like that the benefit of the doubt, it has always been a huge mistake.”

Octavia filled up the bag with all of the utensils and paper dishes, then tied it off and opened a new bag, pulling the fridge open and kneeling in front of it, her heart still pounding with angry indignation, every ounce of her patience and respect for Mohinder’s current relationship now completely gone from her.

“And I don’t particularly appreciate her attacking you, either,” she growled as she filled the bag with the cold goods. “I’m sorry… I really was just gonna try to get along with her, and make everything friendly… but she is insane , man. If she’s been that abusive the whole time you’ve been with her, then I have no idea how you haven’t exploded on her already…”

Octavia removed everything from the fridge, disposed of the old food, and tied the second bag off, then set it aside and stood, wheeling around to face him. She opened her mouth to speak further—then suddenly stopped, narrowing her eyes at him.

Mohinder stood at the corner of the wall bordering the kitchenette, looking downward almost dazedly and rubbing his head through his hairs, two thick lines of blood trickling down his head and neck, a pulpy crimson mess of it on the side of his skull. The blood seemed to be pouring out of him, running down and reaching the edge of his dark button-up, quickly staining it with heavy blotches of red.

Octavia stared at him, her expression deflating, and she let out a long, exasperated breath, shaking her head and feeling as if this day was nothing but a disaster so far.

“Holy hell…”