Sylar knew. He knew all too well, which was exactly what he told himself as he tried to keep himself under control. The doctor might've done a number on Sylar's body, but he hadn't screwed up his head. Sylar was well aware of what he'd done to Elle: even if the doctor had been telling the truth about Elle's true intentions (and he probably wasn't), she'd been annoying and she'd had power. That alone was enough to justify her death, especially with Peter Petrelli watching.
Peter. Did Peter know about Elle showing up? If he didn't, then Sylar had better end her life before the idiot got some stupid ounce of hope from it, because it sure seemed like Elle was aware of the situation. Come to think of it, the way she was acting was a little... unusual. Sylar had heard about patients coming back to life without any of their previous memories in the nuthouse, but Elle's words and her genuine terror made it clear that she did have them, and that made this out of the norm. Dangerous.
Which was exactly what he didn't want Elle to figure out. The analysis was helping: his body was relaxing, his pain clearing. He chanced a glance down at his left hand; he could see the scar. He was okay.
But Elle wouldn't be.
He slowly raised his eyes to hers as the same sense of control spread through his body. He could see her clearly now: she was scared, and though Sylar knew that she was armed with more than just a couple of blunt objects, so was he.
"If you want to try something, be my guest," he said, eyes fixed on her face as he tried to take in every nuance of her expression, every sign of what her irrational mood might bring. He turned the knife so that he was holding it face-down, then raised his hand, gently pulling two fingers from the handle. Concentrating carefully on his own exertion of power, he made a small spark between the two fingers, just enough to be visible across the room. The flicker of light glinted across his grinning teeth and cast shadows across his face as he raised his brow questioningly.
"But I think you remember how that turned out last time."
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Peter. Did Peter know about Elle showing up? If he didn't, then Sylar had better end her life before the idiot got some stupid ounce of hope from it, because it sure seemed like Elle was aware of the situation. Come to think of it, the way she was acting was a little... unusual. Sylar had heard about patients coming back to life without any of their previous memories in the nuthouse, but Elle's words and her genuine terror made it clear that she did have them, and that made this out of the norm. Dangerous.
Which was exactly what he didn't want Elle to figure out. The analysis was helping: his body was relaxing, his pain clearing. He chanced a glance down at his left hand; he could see the scar. He was okay.
But Elle wouldn't be.
He slowly raised his eyes to hers as the same sense of control spread through his body. He could see her clearly now: she was scared, and though Sylar knew that she was armed with more than just a couple of blunt objects, so was he.
"If you want to try something, be my guest," he said, eyes fixed on her face as he tried to take in every nuance of her expression, every sign of what her irrational mood might bring. He turned the knife so that he was holding it face-down, then raised his hand, gently pulling two fingers from the handle. Concentrating carefully on his own exertion of power, he made a small spark between the two fingers, just enough to be visible across the room. The flicker of light glinted across his grinning teeth and cast shadows across his face as he raised his brow questioningly.
"But I think you remember how that turned out last time."