Eyes widening, Sylar lifts his head, clear shock passing over his face before it veers back into the barely suppressed rage. For the first time, then, his focus shifts: he notices the walls, the bed, the barred window.
He still can't move; he's too weak, too badly hurt by whatever they did to him. Each time he tries to concentrate, it slips away like grasping a handful of water.
And Peter Petrelli should not know that name.
"Where am I," he says, very low and deliberately enunciated, as he turns back to Peter.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-01-13 04:06 am (UTC)Eyes widening, Sylar lifts his head, clear shock passing over his face before it veers back into the barely suppressed rage. For the first time, then, his focus shifts: he notices the walls, the bed, the barred window.
He still can't move; he's too weak, too badly hurt by whatever they did to him. Each time he tries to concentrate, it slips away like grasping a handful of water.
And Peter Petrelli should not know that name.
"Where am I," he says, very low and deliberately enunciated, as he turns back to Peter.