The smell was overwhelming, as much as he was used to it. There was blood all around them, but at least it was confined to the shower, which would make it a little easier to wash away. Sylar only tightened his grip as Peter began to sag against him, and he kept the other man's exhausted gaze, listening to his breathless words, the haggard quality of his every breath. He could feel his heart struggling now, and the blood flow was slowing.
Slowly, carefully, he lowered both himself and Peter down into the pink water, arranging the other man across his chest, dabbing the hair out of his eyes again. There was a fresh gush of blood from the change in angle, but it wouldn't help Peter now. The light was going steadily out of his eyes.
A moment before that happened he leant forward, brushing his lips across Peter's temple.
He didn't say a word--honestly, he thought Peter might not hear him anyway, and just a few seconds later he raised his hand from the knife, and closed Peter's eyes with bloodied fingers. The blood kept flowing, but it was little more than a trickle now, and Sylar did not wait long before reaching down to pull the knife free, tossing it out of the bath casually. The water was slowly clearing.
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Slowly, carefully, he lowered both himself and Peter down into the pink water, arranging the other man across his chest, dabbing the hair out of his eyes again. There was a fresh gush of blood from the change in angle, but it wouldn't help Peter now. The light was going steadily out of his eyes.
A moment before that happened he leant forward, brushing his lips across Peter's temple.
He didn't say a word--honestly, he thought Peter might not hear him anyway, and just a few seconds later he raised his hand from the knife, and closed Peter's eyes with bloodied fingers. The blood kept flowing, but it was little more than a trickle now, and Sylar did not wait long before reaching down to pull the knife free, tossing it out of the bath casually. The water was slowly clearing.