Sylar was less uncomfortable than he'd thought he'd be, but then he hadn't made plans after 'kill Peter' when he'd dragged him out to the bathroom. Maybe the discomfort was making the other man think about things that weren't slowly choking to death over and over again, and if that was the case then it was working.
He helped him into his towel, paying attention to the fact that Peter seemed uneasy on his feet like a newborn calf, then turned around to pick up another one, tying it around his waist before squirming out of his own wet clothes. He plucked his feet out, stepping back, then turned once more toward Peter, still damp but no longer dripping, turning the white towels pink--and stepped toward him, dropping a hand onto the other man's elbow.
"You alright to walk? Come on."
The bedroom was just across the hall, and he'd make sure Peter got that far before throwing himself down on the couch for a well deserved sleep. The Joker wasn't coming, that much was clear, and he'd need all the energy he had if Peter's tremors came back.
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He helped him into his towel, paying attention to the fact that Peter seemed uneasy on his feet like a newborn calf, then turned around to pick up another one, tying it around his waist before squirming out of his own wet clothes. He plucked his feet out, stepping back, then turned once more toward Peter, still damp but no longer dripping, turning the white towels pink--and stepped toward him, dropping a hand onto the other man's elbow.
"You alright to walk? Come on."
The bedroom was just across the hall, and he'd make sure Peter got that far before throwing himself down on the couch for a well deserved sleep. The Joker wasn't coming, that much was clear, and he'd need all the energy he had if Peter's tremors came back.