There was no chance in hell of Sylar staying in tonight. After everything that had happened today and the fact that he'd spent all of last night – and the day before – passed out in his room, he was already wrenching open his closet door and grabbing up his equipment as soon as Spock stepped out of the room. Right now, it seemed like his set of screwdrivers and carving knife might be the "safest" choices for whatever came up – along with his flashlight, of course.
Once he'd laced up his boots and pulled on his heavy coat, he wasted no time in getting himself to the door, knife in one hand and his light in the other. Always careful not to run into Peter when the moron had a shovel in hand, he pressed down on the handle with the heel of his hand and then nudged the door open with his shoulder, peering into the hallway beyond.
So far, so good. Only one figure was walking through the hallway, and they seemed to be heading into it, not out. Not Peter, then.
But as Sylar prepared to step out of the door, he noticed something that made him pause. The figure was systematically sweeping each doorway with their light, and when they did, the glow reflected back from their flashlight and illuminated their features.
Claire.
Sylar pulled back into his room and narrowed his eyes at the wall. Chances were that Claire had come here to look for Peter, but given how slowly she was searching and how much care she was taking with the doors, she either wasn't very familiar with Peter's room block... ...or Peter had warned her about what else might be lurking in the patient quarters.
But... that didn't make sense, did it? Sylar frowned. Peter being Peter, he might've told Claire about sharing a room hallway with their nemesis, but regardless of whether he had or not, he'd never allow Claire to come here precisely because of how much it'd endanger her. Not unless he was ready to "protect" her, anyway, but then... why was Claire alone? And, if she was alone, why didn't she seem to be on the immediate lookout for danger? Sylar had seen how determined she was to take him down when he'd provoked her during that movie, but while he considered her stupid enough to try to fight him, he knew she wasn't brave enough to do it with a level face... which was what she had, right now, out in the hallway.
So. Peter didn't know that Claire was here, and Claire didn't know about Sylar.
A smirk grew on Sylar's face as he tightened his hold on the knife in his hand. Just one ambush – one good bash on the skull, one good slice...
But was now the time?
His smirk weakened. Sylar's priority right now was to find out what the hell was going on in the Institute, and if his experiences with Kimbley and Elle had taught him anything, it was that even if he did manage to acquire a new power, it was heavily limited, and worse, left him in crippling pain for over a day. He didn't know if he could afford that right now, even if he could feel the edge of his need digging into him like cold metal. It'd have to wait, and besides, as much as he hated to admit it...
He slowly raised his gaze to the door.
As much as he hated to admit it, he already had a new ability that he'd yet to harness.
M27
Once he'd laced up his boots and pulled on his heavy coat, he wasted no time in getting himself to the door, knife in one hand and his light in the other. Always careful not to run into Peter when the moron had a shovel in hand, he pressed down on the handle with the heel of his hand and then nudged the door open with his shoulder, peering into the hallway beyond.
So far, so good. Only one figure was walking through the hallway, and they seemed to be heading into it, not out. Not Peter, then.
But as Sylar prepared to step out of the door, he noticed something that made him pause. The figure was systematically sweeping each doorway with their light, and when they did, the glow reflected back from their flashlight and illuminated their features.
Claire.
Sylar pulled back into his room and narrowed his eyes at the wall. Chances were that Claire had come here to look for Peter, but given how slowly she was searching and how much care she was taking with the doors, she either wasn't very familiar with Peter's room block... ...or Peter had warned her about what else might be lurking in the patient quarters.
But... that didn't make sense, did it? Sylar frowned. Peter being Peter, he might've told Claire about sharing a room hallway with their nemesis, but regardless of whether he had or not, he'd never allow Claire to come here precisely because of how much it'd endanger her. Not unless he was ready to "protect" her, anyway, but then... why was Claire alone? And, if she was alone, why didn't she seem to be on the immediate lookout for danger? Sylar had seen how determined she was to take him down when he'd provoked her during that movie, but while he considered her stupid enough to try to fight him, he knew she wasn't brave enough to do it with a level face... which was what she had, right now, out in the hallway.
So. Peter didn't know that Claire was here, and Claire didn't know about Sylar.
A smirk grew on Sylar's face as he tightened his hold on the knife in his hand. Just one ambush – one good bash on the skull, one good slice...
But was now the time?
His smirk weakened. Sylar's priority right now was to find out what the hell was going on in the Institute, and if his experiences with Kimbley and Elle had taught him anything, it was that even if he did manage to acquire a new power, it was heavily limited, and worse, left him in crippling pain for over a day. He didn't know if he could afford that right now, even if he could feel the edge of his need digging into him like cold metal. It'd have to wait, and besides, as much as he hated to admit it...
He slowly raised his gaze to the door.
As much as he hated to admit it, he already had a new ability that he'd yet to harness.