It's an interesting thing; a clock generally doesn't stop working all at once. Pieces wear out, or gears wind down, but the mechanism as a whole struggles to keep (living) time, beat (tick) after beat (tick) after beat (tiiiiick).

As he jerks, gasping under the cold weight of (guilt) Virginia's hand, the room itself stutters with the unevenness of Sylar's heartbeat.

(TICK)