This. This was trust, and it was a strange thing to have, particularly since Peter was the one who knew what he was. Particularly since he was holding a knife. He kept his head down against Peter's, moving his other hand imperceptibly behind him, and tried to remember what he knew from his books about human anatomy. Without his abilities, it would be education and luck that helped him to get this right, to bleed Peter as long and as much as possible while leaving his brain and heart to stave off death as long as he could. Somewhere which would hurt less than any other place - and that was difficult enough as it was.

There were less pain receptors in the back, and the place he had chosen was below Peter's heart, and as he put the knife into place he urged Peter's head a little lower against his chest--it would make it easier on his heart. Peter would lose feeling in his legs, which meant that Sylar would be holding him up, but he was prepared for that. He knew what he was doing.

There was no warning before he pushed the tip of the blade into the renal artery, just below Peter's kidneys. He held him a little tighter, and was aware that maybe he ought to say something. Something reassuring, something...caring.

"I have you," he finally mumbled, and twisted the knife to open the wound. Hot blood poured onto his hand, splashed with water from the shower, and he let out a shaky breath. "Stay with me, Peter."