"Yeah, well, you were supposed to be dead, too," Matt practically spits as he drops the ruined remains of his weapon.
Resisting the urge to take out his frustration on the thing and kick it, he takes a deep breath instead, and moves past Peter to the bathtub. It's a little harder to resist doing the same to Mohinder, but he manages, hooking his hands under his arms to pull him off of Sylar and dump him on the floor. He's about to reach for his cuffs, to bind the Indian, as little good as it will likely do when he wakes up, assuming he hasn't got him chained out on the front lawn to wait for the sunrise by then, when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He starts, glancing back over it, and he barely has the time to get a good look at Sylar, awake and alert, and the horrible blackness of his eyes, before the other man darts in, burying his teeth (oh, God, fangs) in his throat.
He has half a moment to wish he could scream after the pain starts before it consumes him.
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Date: 2011-12-21 11:46 pm (UTC)Resisting the urge to take out his frustration on the thing and kick it, he takes a deep breath instead, and moves past Peter to the bathtub. It's a little harder to resist doing the same to Mohinder, but he manages, hooking his hands under his arms to pull him off of Sylar and dump him on the floor. He's about to reach for his cuffs, to bind the Indian, as little good as it will likely do when he wakes up, assuming he hasn't got him chained out on the front lawn to wait for the sunrise by then, when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He starts, glancing back over it, and he barely has the time to get a good look at Sylar, awake and alert, and the horrible blackness of his eyes, before the other man darts in, burying his teeth (oh, God, fangs) in his throat.
He has half a moment to wish he could scream after the pain starts before it consumes him.