| Appearences by: | Elle, Isaac, and Sylar |
| Season: | Season 1 |
| Episode #: | 13 |
| Date: | November 14, 2006 |
| Total Deaths: | 1 |
Isaac
A paint covered Isaac was sitting on his stool, paintbrush in hand. His eyes would be that of cloudy white, obviously he was making use of his power. Dipping the bristles into the paint he began to fill the blank canvas ahead of him. Slowly it began to take shape, looking a lot like the frames of his front door, though Isaac wouldn't know till he was done. Effortlessly he continued to paint what he saw, which was the very near future.
Sylar
He was desperately trying to keep Elle, (pregnant Elle, he still couldn't really wrap his mind around it despite their conversation earlier), focused and quiet. "Are you sure this is the right address? It's kind of crummy." After much debate this morning, they'd decided to compromise (how he loathes that word, but it's what Elle had used, so he rolled) by not going to get the healer, now that they knew what was 'wrong' (which was his idea) and not going to to "visit" her jackass of a father (he used the word "visit" lightly since for him a "visit" to this particular jackass was i.e. "bloody murder", which was…also his idea). So he let her choose what they were going to do, which turned out that her interest had been piqued concerning the future explosion of New York. "Elle, I know you're excited, but can we please try to remain calm, here? Its a little distracting."
Elle
Cherry slusho in her grasp, she gobbled down those powedered donut holes that lay before her as she looked at the entrance to Isaac Mendez's Chelsea apartment/loft. "Yeah I'm sure. I've been here lots of times. Surveillence and stuff." Going after Isaac was important for a number of reasons, one being that with his power they could basically anticipate their enemies ahead of time giving them a gargantuan advantage. Gabriel of all people should appreciate the gift of precognition, he did like to know everything, and he'd probably lose his mind at knowing the future. "So…" A sip of that slusho was taken as she bounced in her seat in excitement before stopping. "You don't like it when I'm excited at the prospect of you killing?" She asked with a mischievous smirk on her lips.
Isaac
Having finished said painting, Isaac's eyes had returned to normal as they scanned over the art. Though quickly he got nauseated at what he saw, which was a picture of himself sprawled on the floor and the top of his head removed in a bloody pool atop that explosion painting on his floor. Paintbrush fell from his hand to the floor as his mouth dropped open, standing quickly that stool would tip over and crash to the floor. Quickly scrambling arround he frantically gathered and put items in a bag, seemingly packing for a quick escape.
Sylar
"Chew your food," he scolded gently and absently. The thought of killing again was threatening to unleash his inner beast. Gabriel was holding onto the ragged ropes of his control, especially when the beast was hungry at the sight of such a juicy steak. He barely heard her, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, but he was a little shocked by her question. "Elle…we talked about this. I don't know what I want. Gab-," here he corrected himself. "One part of me just wants to survive and be a good father and…boyfriend," oh how he choked on that word. He much preferred 'husband', but he continued, more than a little torn, "The…other part wants to take you and the baby on a killing spree so that we'd be invincible and no one could ever touch us," he paused briefly, "Come on, odds are he already knows we're coming."
Elle
She looked at him and rolled her eyes, but chewed her food nonetheless. She was just so happy, she wondered how loud he would scream, or if he was even a screamer at all. Thoughts of the way he would bleed began to trickle into her mind. Would it splash out everywhere, or just seep from the wound? Well the answers to these questions will be found out in a few seconds, they should really get to it. Tilting her head to the side she took in his words, slurping loudly on that drink. "Okay. I'll go in through the front you go in through the back." With the contents of the slusho empty she stepped out of the car and tossed the cup into a trashcan. Using her sleeve, she wiped the white powder from around her mouth. "See ya inside." Just like that that, she skipped off to the front entrance, opening the door. "Hello!"
Isaac
"Shit!" Was uttered as he was heading to the front door, bag over his shoulder only to see Elle. Quickly turning around he bolted towards the back door of his apartment; many, many paintings in the way of a clear electric shock.
Sylar
He jogged around to the back, hearing loud voices, but nothing conclusive. For a brief second he worried that this was a bad idea letting Elle, while pregnant, come along with him no matter how happy it made her to kill a target. A target who knew all their actions before they'd even thought of doing them. He didn't want to underestimate the target. He TK'd the door open, since it was probably locked anyway, to be greeted by the sight of his prey running towards him, away from Elle. Great teamwork. That's what he loved about Elle, they worked so well together. Common interests went a long way. "Mendez!" He said loudly, to get the panicked man's attention.
Elle
Something told her that the man must've drawn about her a couple of times, he ran away from her without hesitation. Grinning, she pranced into the building happily, only to see the man running in the direction of Gabriel. Elle loved it when her plans worked, and most often they did. One psychopath was hard to take out, two on the other hand was damn near impossible. Gabriel shouldn't really worry too much about her, she was a big girl capable of handling herself when the situation called for it, though she couldn't blame him. He did have a child on the way after all. The sound of Gabriel's voice calling out to Isaac made her stomach flutter. The good part was right around the corner.
Isaac
Ducking as said door flew over his head and crashed into a few painings Isaac began to back away from Sylar the moment he saw him. "I know why you're here." Isaac looked around in an attempt to fomulate an escape, though he knew exactly how this would end. Eyes shifting between the pair as he stood over that explosion painting on the floor.
Sylar
Sure she was. "Oh, Mendez. What's the rush?" He said, smirking that evil I-know-something-you-don't smirk. "That's pretty rude. At least let me introduce Elle," he growled out, so excited, throbbing to get a, no this, new power in his hands. Taking it away from someone who didn't deserve it. Although Mendez had put his ability to good use, that wasn't the same as deserving it, "She's been dying to meet you. You do, now? And what would that be?" He said stalking forwards towards his shaking prey, eyes glittering darkly and dangerously. He loved the smell of fear coming from his victims, it was such a rush, such a high for him, to know that he was feared for something that he and only he could do. It made him special.
Elle
Isaac was basically trapped; there was no where left for him to go, nothing for him to do. "For someone who can paint the future, I'm sure you saw this coming." Obvious by the fact that he ran instantly. "No point in fighting the inevitable, die with some dignity, sheesh!" Death could be a really, really beautiful thing if people just embraced it more often. Isaac should be happy, no, honored that two superior forces even considered him perfect to kill. He truly would be doing a great service, a service that he would never be able to accomplish getting high and moping about. He was going to aid in their future for one, and his sacrifice would be most beneficial for their baby what with making it way easier to protect and all. A bright, blue spark built up in the palm of her hand as she rose it to aim at the painter, he would feel his body overcome by intense pain before it stopped altogther. His body was numb and most certainly paralyzed.
Isaac
Before he could mutter another word he hit the floor, convulsing from that electric shock shortly before passing out from the pain, effectively immobilized and ready to be killed.
Sylar
So much for a witty reparte. He usually liked his victims to sweat it out, imagining and fearing their deaths while he strung them along. Elle, however, preferred the pain-is-more theory, so she zapped him senseless. While Mendez lay on the ground, he took the time to notice the painting he happened to be situated on. "Elle-," he began in annoyance, but stopped once he saw the apocalyptic mural, "-Look at that!" He finished, gesturing. So it really was going to happen. The Company would blow up New York. And for what? Did they even know? "Elle, you're sure your father didn't say anything more about this?" Becuase it would be really, really nice to know more about it. Elle had a tendancy of 'forgetting' what she thought were tiny details, but ended up being more (that and she tended to screw up his kills, which was really, really starting to piss him off, baby or not). "Elle," he began again in a controlled growl, "Honey, why did you do that?" He waited for the inevitable immature answer. It did amaze him sometimes that such a childish person could be expecting a child of her own. Somewhere in the cosmos, someone was laughing at him; he just knew it.
Elle
With Isaac out for the count, Elle clapped her hands together. "Well let's get this show on the ro— huh?" She turned her head to the direction he was facing, and looked at the mural of the explosion. How exciting! So many people were going to die in a fiery oblivion, and the whole city would be filled with their screams of terror and anguish. "Say any more about it? He didn't say anything at all, I found out from someone else." Yeah maybe she tended to rank things of importance differently from everyone else, but she had found out she was pregnant, got arrested, blew up Panera, was nearly assassinated, kidnapped by Peter, and she hadn't seen Gabriel in two days. So what if she neglected to say a few things. "Do what?" She looked down at the body of Isaac. "Oh that. Well… I just wanted it to hurt alot and… yeah. Sorry." There really wasn't a good explanation for that, her excitement just got the better of her. "I can wake him up if you want?" If he doesn't wake up on his own, he really was a weak bastard, she couldn't believe he was out cold from that.
Sylar
God, it was like pulling out his kidneys by way of his esophogus with no anesthetic, getting information from her! But the things he had to do to get a fucking straight answer… He rubbed at his brow in annoyance, "Great display of future parenting skills, Elle. Yeah, yeah, sure, wake him up. He might as well be conscious for this." She was right, Mendez kind of was a weak bastard, although Gabriel (there it was again!) thought of him more as a pussy, one of those guys who'd never grown up. They'd gotten stuck in an alternate dimension somewhere in their gradeschool years while their bodies kept growing, giving off the illusion of maturity. "Why? Why do I bring her along?" He whispered, inaudibly, to himself. He enjoyed her company? Maybe he just wanted to say, 'I'm-sorry-for-the-whole-getting-you-pregnant-but-the-sex-was-great' thing? Cheer her up? And what would it matter if she did knock out the target? He'd never actually tried to cut into someone's head and take their ability when they were unconscious. They'd always been wide awake when he walked in the door. He just had one of those presences.
Elle
Well she couldn't exactly tell him anything she didn't know herself. At least she told him anything at all, she could of just as easily kept half of the things she knew to herself. Maybe that's what she should do next time, that way when something vital comes along, he'd appreciate the information she gathered. Glaring at him she folded her arms, "Excuse me?" Wasn't he the one who was all excited about the damn child in the first place? It had been Elle's intention to abort the thing and continue living her life. He was the one who wanted the family and all that jazz, and tried to comfort her after she had that meltdown. "Wake him up yourself." Turning around she went to go sit on a cluttered desk, crossing her legs in a defiant pose. "I would think that him being unconscious would make the fact that he was dying less obvious, you know with his screams of agony and all, but you're the brain expert do what you want."
Sylar
She was really starting to test his patience, what little he had and what little was left. "Elle," he growled menacingly, warningly; he couldn't help the clenching and unclenching of his fists before he did something foolish. He would never intentionally hurt Elle, or the baby, but that didn't stop him from thinking about it. "You were the one who knocked him out. You were the one who offered to wake him up. Therefore, you will be the one to do that." Then she ignored him and sat down on the filthy table. Was she mocking him? Oh, but she was. "Don't make me make you." Why couldn't he just wake up Mendez? Oh, he could do that just fine, but it was the principle of the thing. She screwed up, she knew she shouldn't have, she offered to fix it, but was pulling out. He wanted her to fix it. She needed to know how. And she was hogging his fucking limelight and she needed to get it in perspective fast.
Elle
"Make me? Psh! I'd like to see you try." Gabriel was going to see just how disobediant she could be. After being run by her father her entire life, she had no intentions of letting anyone else do it. "And yeah, I did offer to wake him up, but you went and decided to be an asshole." Screw him. He wanted to be the star of this show so desparately, why doesn't he just "save the day" and bask in his own fucking glory.
Sylar
When she called him an asshole, all his anger went away. Not his frustration, but his anger. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, almost embarrassed to say it. He realized he was not living up to his own expectations, let alone hers, god forbid the baby's. Taking a step closer, he repeated himself, "I'm sorry," a little louder this time, hoping she'd forgive his pig-headedness. "Its just the-…" he didn't, couldn't finish his sentence. Hunger, was what he was going to say, but he knew that wouldn't fly. 'God, you can't even take ownership, responsibility for your own fucking mistakes, can you?' He suddenly had a fabulous idea. "Want to share?" He asked, a little hestitantly, unsure of what to do. "Couples therapy or something like that?"
Elle
When he apologized, she was honestly surprised. Well not really, but she was. Immediately all the anger she felt for him at that moment left and a smile came over her face, and she walked over to him grabbing his hand. If he was going to say the hunger she was going to smack him, that had absolutely nothing to do with what just happened, but he seemed to realized that himself. "Sure, sharing is caring as they say." Elle could easily over look what had just happened. "Therapy? I don't think that's something we need. At least not yet anyways." She pulled his hand down in the direction of Isaac's body. "Going to do your thing now?" She asked leaning against him, blue eyes twinkling as she waited for the bloodworks.
Sylar
Good. Okay, movement towards him was generally a good thing. "Here, I've got an idea," he grasped her hand, pulling her in front of him, her back to his front, facing Mendez, "Oh, yeah. We're going to do my thing," he'd changed his mind, this could be really fun after all, moral consequences be damned. He could just see it now, he and Elle sitting on the couch, explaining to their young child, "Well, when we found out we were going to have you, we went on a joint murder spree. Why? Oh, because a bunch of bad people were going to blow something up. And for the fun of it." Yes, he could see it now. The thought made him chuckle deep in his throat. This was getting very exciting. "C'mere," he whispered down into her ear, grasping her right hand with his left, raising them together, "Okay, now when I make the incision- listen carefully, becuase this is important- you zap him. That way we'll do it together, sound good?" This was so romantic.
Elle
Gasping as he pulled her towards him, she relaxed as she felt his warm body against her back. "We are? Really?" And to think he wanted to do all of the fun stuff on his own. Smiling brightly, she followed each and every one of his instructions. "Okay." She agreed. This was very romantic, especially when he made it so. Why couldn't it have just been like this from the beginning? They would've had a headless, drug addict painter by now. "Can I set his body on fire afterwards?" She asked sweetly.
Sylar
Her delighted little gasp warmed his heart. How could he have been angry? At her question, he considered. Should he let her start a fire? They had two options, really, "Well, consider this. If we like the loft, we could move here. With the baby and all. But if we don't like it, we can definantly start a fucking blaze." He leaned in to kiss her on the corner of her mouth. He would never be able to kill again without her there, he realized, with a shock. It just wouldn't be the same. And for that he was glad.
Elle
"Well I guess there's no considering needed, because to be frank I hate this place. It isn't meant for a baby for one," and not only that she wants the place that they move into to be more…better. That and it was too close to the Company for comfort and this loft may not even be here when the bomb went off. "Can we kill him now? Pretty please." The kiss to the corner of her mouth was very much welcome, she really needed that.
Sylar
She didn't like it. That was fine, he was just considering all his, their, options. He wasn't too crazy about the cold empty loft anyways. "Let's do this." He lifted his finger, that deadly finger towards the still-prone man. As he began to cut into Mendez' head, the classic screaming, sawing noise coming from the friction of the cutting bone; Elle unleashed a flood of electricity into his body, making him arch, and then go flat, paralyzed by two separate agonies. This was how it should be. The ecstacy of killing, of cutting combined with the soft, warm feeling of Elle's body, charged with energy, seeing the blue ambiance light the loft. It was as if all of his senses were engaged at once, torn between himself, Elle, and Mendez. And it felt good.
Elle
This was just so perfect, with his body being paralyzed he was unable to struggle, scream. She did make sure he could feel that pain however. The painter was essentially helpless. Not exactly a pleasant way to go out, but at least he had a cool death. It turned out that Isaac was both a sprayer and a seeper, that crimson fluid splashing out from the top of his head into the air, as well as pooling beside him. Perhaps the electricity had a lot to do with the spraying blood, his heart had to beat faster under the influence after all. "We did it!" She squealed in excitement as they finished the job. All that was left now was for Gabriel to go ahead and collect the power and paint her a pretty picture.
Sylar
Oh, yeah. They did it. With literal flying colors, too. He gave her a quick peck, he would have done more, like knock her off her feet with a big kiss, but he was distracted by the newly exposed brain that called to him. "We sure did," he answered absent-mindedly, not paying all that much attention. He moved away from her, before something occured to him, "Will this," he gestured to the gray matter, "make you sick?" He knew she didn't really mind blood, but she'd gotten sick over lasagna the other night, so who knew what…what was that thing called? He'd read about it somewhere, he jogged his memeory before coming up with the tidbit. Morning sickness, that's what it was. So who knew what morning sickness would do to her stomach, forget her nerves. He crouched over the dead, but still-warm body, delighting in their kill. Now it was his turn. Taking off his coat, setting it aside, and rolling up his sleeves, he dove in. Immersing his hands in the hot red liquid still seeping from the man's veins, gently stroking the gray matter, looking for the answer.
Elle
There he went moving away from her to go collect his prize. Elle had no intentions of going over there with him, these were rather expensive and stylish shoes, ruining them was a no no. "Um… I don't know. But just to be safe…" She brought her left hand up to her nose and pinched it; Elle truly was in no mood for vomitting. "See! Problem solved!" She responded nasally. He took off that coat of his, rolled up his sleeves, and dipped his hands into that blood touching the man's brain. This whole process was just as interesting to her the first time she seen it when he killed Zane Taylor (or Trevor Zeitlin). She kind of wondered what it was he felt when he took a new power; he really seemed to lose himelf in the moment.
Sylar
Did he ever lose himself! The world ceased to exist outside of his hands. It was like a new journey everytime, searching for meaning, purpose, a sense of self inside someone's cranium. So strange that he could find answers in someone else's head. It gave him chills, thrills, jolts, twists, his stomach did flip-flops, it was always incredible. Beyond that he honestly couldn't describe it. He felt both halves, the ones that Elle so firmly believed were just facets of his personality come together. In peace.
Elle
Watching him for a while, she went to go sit back on that table. There was a loud gurgling noise and she looked down at her stomach. "Gabriel! Are you finished yet!? I'm hungry!" Damn, now that she thought about it she could eat a whole fucking cow. What was it that she had a craving for today? Maybe Chinese would do them both some good, or maybe some good southern cooking: ribs, potatoes, corn and all that other good stuff. Maybe they could even go out for sushi. When she thought about it however, it was kind of gross having him eat with brain on his hands, not to mention blood. Well he always was rather meticulous about cleanliness but still.
Sylar
Soon he came down enough from his high to be coherent. "Wha-?" He asked, a little confused; it was like coming back to life, literally, after being buried alive for a hundred years. So he was a little out of it, but he answered, "Yeah, all done now. Can I try it out?" He asked boyishly; he was really curious to see how his new toy worked. He would now disect his new ability until he knew every facet of its existence. "Please?"
Elle
She looked at him and giggled, nodding her head. "Yes, you can paint me something," food could wait for a little bit longer she supposed. "Paint me something really, really pretty." She swung those legs of her back and forth while she thought about all the things she could make him paint, like what outfit would generate the best future should she decide to wear it, or other minor things. Well, she was fully aware that the ability would be used for more practical and important reasons than that, but it didn't stop her from wanting to have a little fun.
Sylar
Sylar immediately set about gathering up the painting supplies: paint, board, brushes, canvas, etc. Having set it up, he stood before the empty canvas and concentrated, his eyes fluttering closed before his brain activated his newest ability. Suddenly his dark eyes opened white. His mind rushed elsewhere as he saw…he saw…oh, god no! No, no, no! Not this! Sylar saw a desolate crator, black and grey buildings in the distance, burned to crisps, the air thick with floating grey snow that was ash. There was nothing in the vicinity but fallen black buildings, the odd piece of concrete here and there. Clearly this was the aftermath of a nuclear explosion of some kind. But on the ground…was the worst. Before him was a small body twisted unnaturally, partially burned. Some beautiful pale skin streaked with dust and ash. There was no hair or other facial features to distinguish who this was. Sylar knew. The figures arms were curled around its belly as if protecting something there. And the blue eyes. Piercing, electric, wide, blue eyes stared up at him. In death. Unconsciously, his real body, unaware and separate from his mind began to shudder, making the last bits of the painting jagged. At the time his mind was screaming, 'No! No! No!' When in reality his physical body was doing the screaming for him. Blinking again, head jerking to get away; Sylar backed up, his normal chocolate brown eyes returning, and he stumbled to the floor, scrambling to get away. "No!"
Elle
She watched as he diligently began forging his soon to be master piece. Elle whistled a soft tune to herself as he worked, throwing her head back while she thought of all the wonderful things they were going to do in California. Swimming of course was out of the question, but that wasn't to say she couldn't enjoy a beautiful afternoon of sunbathing and people watching. She could see it now: shades over her eyes, amazingly cute bikini hugging her body, ice cream in one hand, baby in her lap… Ugh… Why did her mind have to go to that of all things? Wasn't like she was remotely capable of enjoying the company of the child; so why did she think of it? Suddenly Gabriel was screaming out and dropping to the floor, not something she'd expected. Flinging herself off of that table she went by his side, "Gabriel! What's wrong?" Maybe it was something he painted, she began to turn her head to look up.
Sylar
He reached up. Grasping her face, her neck, shoulders, her hair, hell, any part of her. Eyes wide, he just looked at her, trying to discern whether this was real or not. "Elle?" He gasped out, "Elle? You- NO! DON'T LOOK!" He scramed, keeping a firm (he was sure quite painful) grip of her face and hair to keep her from turning and looking at that fucking painting! Anything but that fucking painting!
Elle
To see Gabriel of all people spazzing out before her, really made her question exactly what the fuck it was he saw, let alone what he painted. Curiosity was getting the better of her and she desperately wanted to take a peek, before she could however he went gripping her face and making sure she didn't do such a thing. "Ow! Gabriel! Stop it! Let go! Let me see! You're hurting me!" She writhed and pushed against him trying to break free. She wasn't strong enough to do such a thing physically, but that's where her ability came in. Getting sick of struggling, she sent a painful shock coursing through his system to weaken his muscles and make him spasm before pushing him away. Turning around immediately she glaced at the painting. "…" What could she possibly say to that? "Ga-Gabriel… i-is that suppose to be… me?"
Sylar
"NO! ELLE, DON'T, PLEASE!" He was desperate, she didn't need to see this, see her death, not in her contidion. Fuck, not ever. But Elle, being Elle, always thought that she knew best, so she sent him an agaonizing jolt to get him to release her, which he did. Then she promptly whipped around to look. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck…' was the mantra going through his head. 'Damn you, Elle!' Laying flat, he considered his options. Should he lie? Say he didn't know? Say it could be any innumerable blonde-haired blue-eyed small women in New York, but he knew that wouldn't even get off the ground. Rubbing his chest where her bolt had hit him, he propped himself up on an elbow, but didn't look up from where his tortured gaze studiously examined the floor.
Elle
"It is, isn't it?" She asked her voice void of emotion. Sighing she turned to face him. "I guess we all gotta go sometime…" she tried to lighten the mood but knew that woudn't happen. She was going to die; this painting and his awkward silence was proof enough of that. She couldn't let this linger on his mind. There was a time where she wouldn't have cared whether she lived or died, she knew it was all a part of life. But at that time, Elle hadn't had Gabriel in her life, and she wanted to live for him, to be with him for as long as possible. Things were just beginning to look up for them, and she didn't want it to end so soon. They had a fucking baby on the way, it couldn't end so fast. Not now, not yet. Her hormones caused tears to well up in her eyes, a few sliding down her cheeks. "You know what? Fuck this!" Turning around sharply, she let a stream of bright blue hit the painting setting it alight; the image burning away from their sights. The flames were hot on her flesh, but she didn't let that bother her. "This is not going to happen! We're not going to let it happen, Gabriel!" She said bawling at this point. "Screw fate!"
Sylar
Oh, god, just please let her not freak out and- cry. There is was. Great. "Yes," he whispered, far too ashamed although he didn't know why, to say it any louder. He knew exactly what it was. "Yes. I do," she turned and blasted the painting. Something he should have done before she looked at it. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid! Couldn't go eat like she asked, could you? Couldn't just leave it? Just had to test it out, didn't you?' And he knew, oh, he knew, that at one time she would have liked for it, her life, to all be over. But he hoped that she didn't, just because she was with him now…or because of…his baby, her baby, no, their baby. He listened to her rage, knowing that she had to let it out, hell, he would too, but he was in far too much shock. "No, it's me," he sniffed holding back the…moisture in his eyes. "It's Sylar, and I won't let anything happen to you!" He rasped, throat a little…constricted. He crawled over to her, reaching out an arm for her to slap away or fall into, whichever she needed. "We can do this! This is what we want! We're unstoppable! We'll leave right now, okay? It won't happen. I promise!" He was pleading, whining, begging, for what he didn't know. For her to believe him? To comfot her? To comfort himself? To make either of them believe what he was saying? He just didn't know.
Elle
No she wasn't going to slap his arm away. Now was the time that they really needed each other. It was the only way that they'd be able to overcome this. Hugging him tightly, she sniffled a bit taking it upon herself to wipe her eyes on his shirt. He had blood and brain matter all over his hands but she didn't find it in herself to care. If indeed her death was going to happen, every moment with him was incredibly precious. It certainly put a lot of things into perspective. "Okay, enough moping about, it's not going to get us anywhere." She had cried with him more than she ever did in her entire life, and that actually wasn't a good thing. It proved that she wasn't a doll void of all emotion, that she actually was a human being. "Okay so obviously, that, is going to take place during the explosion, which means we're not going to make it out in time." They needed to think, and fast. No one knew when this thing was happening, it could happen in five minutes for all they knew.
Sylar
Moping? Is that what they were doing? That was sure a quick mood swing, even for Elle. But he hardly noticed. She did that anaconda snake-hugging thing again, he didn't give a flying fuck. He held the back of her head for a few moments, while she sniffed into his shoulder. Then she pulled away abruptly, "Uh, uh, yeah," he sniffled, "Okay, let's think about this a minute." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking quickly. "Elle…should we reconsider going to, uh, see the Company? They'll know when and where the bomb is going to go off, right?" Forget the bomb, the look she'd given him the last time he mentioned the Company, he implied Bob, he figured he would die soon, either way. 'Fuck catch-twenty-twos,' he thought.
Elle
She just couldn't help herself, she loved Gabriel more than anything, and the strength of her hug showed that. She didn't want to leave him. "Fine, we can go to the Company, but no mentioning the baby." The founders would no doubt be leaving before the bomb went off, it wouldn't be hard for them to order Elle captured and tested on. There were lots more branches of the Company than the ones in New York and Texas. "They might already know in any case what with precogs and all, but still just to be safe." Surely her father wouldn't let her die, right? He couldn't possibly hate her that much. He'd want her to be safe, besides as far as they knew she was still an able-bodied agent.
Sylar
Relief! She agreed. Finally came around to seeing reason. It was like sometimes she forgot or didn't get that his ability was understanding how things worked. Now that he had been (they both had been) thoroughly shaken by this dreadful experience, he decided it was time for some action. Standing up, gently pulling her along with him to an upright position, he took her hand firmly in his, and walked them towards the door. "Right. No talking about the baby. I wholeheartedly agree." The last thing he wanted was to drag Elle back there to see that piece-of-fucking-crap father of hers and tear open wounds, but if it meant keeping her alive? He'd pick opening the wounds. "And, hey, look at it this way, we may not even see…um, certain people while we're there." Oh, he hoped. How he hoped that they wouldn't.
Elle
Well at the time, she wasn't really thinking straight, and after seeing that she'd been tested on vigorously at her father's command, she had no intention of going through that process again. Mentally she was still wrapping her mind around the idea of the baby thing, but with each passing moment she found herself caring a bit more. Eventually though they'd have to go to an actual doctor to confirm the pregnancy but everything was certainly pointing in that direction. Knowing what to expect would also be most favorable. Pulled to her feet, she made sure her hand was in his as they walked away. The smoke alarm had long sense went off thanks to the burning painting, the whole building probably would've caught fire if it hadn't been for the hard concrete floors and lack of any material to feed the flames. "I wouldn't be optimistic," she replied dully. "I love you." Random, but she felt the need to say it, especially given what they saw.
Sylar
They were nearly to the stairs when she said she wouldn't be optimistic; he turned around to face her, "Hey. This is me we're talking about. This is you," he gestured between the two of them, "I'm Sylar. If I don't want it to happen, then it won't happen. Got it?" To which she followed up with a sweet, inccocent, terrified, 'I love you.' He answered back as honestly, truthfully, and emotionally as he could, "I love you so much more…" he pulled her in for a gentle, reassuring, reconfirming kiss that went longer than the peck that he intended it to be. But it was all good. He would make sure of it.
