By this time, the Specials had began coming out of the woodwork - some wanting to learn how to control their powers, while others wanted to rid themselves of it altogether. The first wasn’t usually a problem unless their powers were dangerous, but the second… Taking abilities away took more time, especially if the default serum wouldn’t work, causing new calculations to have to be formulated.
Luckily, Mohinder was confident that he could cure anyone and tried not to doubt himself whenever a new patient came along. Doubt clouded his concentration and in turn, caused the whole process to take longer. The geneticist had seen many different types of abilities so far and for each one of those, he’d kept the corresponding cure down in his lab.
It had been a while since he last had helped someone, so his routine now was somewhat of a lazy one, especially on his off days such as today. Clad in flannel pajamas, he was currently in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Once he heard the buzz of the doorbell, he froze in his tracks. Normally he would have grabbed his gun and prepared for the worst… but at the moment, he just yawned and began combing his curls the best he could with his fingers as he headed for the door. Yes, life had gotten dull… but not for long.
Once he glanced out the peephole, he wasn’t sure what to think except he probably should have gotten dressed. Oh well. At first, he only opened the door a few inches, discreetly hiding his pajamas. “Hello there. If you’re looking for Chandra, I’m his son - Mohinder. Is there something I can help you with?” He was so used to people looking for either him or his father, that this had became his new greeting. And although he wasn’t expecting her, he still gave a genuine smile, showing that he didn’t mind the intrusion from such a lovely lady.