Wow, this is like, my third Syelle one-shot in four days. I'm on a roll.
I hope it is received well. The title is a quote from Elle.

Personally, I don't condone Sylar/Claire, it's just wierd, but I thought that'd make this interesting. Niether do I own Heroes

Reviews make me happy :)

Elle and Sylar aren't talking.

He is rushing around like a headless chicken, trying to find things to stop her leg bleeding so profusely all over the shop floor but he doesn't know what he needs! He doesn't know how to save her.

She is sat against a shelf, her little face screwed up in pain and her hand is clamped over her thigh. Red liquid seeps between her fingers and she grits her teeth. She remembers Noah Bennet's words a while ago, while she sat, bound to a chair, soaking wet. Lit up with her own electricity.

Stings like a bitch, doesn't it? She lets out a little whimper and curses Glasses in her head, for being right.

Sylar casts his gaze upon her, sprawled on the tiles, bleeding and helpless. And he doesn't know what to say to her. Because she won't talk to him. Way to go, jackass, Gabriel grumbles inside Sylar's head.

Sylar's fists clench furiously at his own carelessness, his own stupidity. It was an accident. He hadn't meant to say it. Not really. He hadn't meant to whisper someone else's name into Elle's hair back at Canfield House. He hadn't meant to let his mind wander to another girl. Another beautiful girl with long, blonde hair.

Oh, Elle looked like she was going to murder him.

Just when Sylar thought Elle was going to blast him into ash, the father of the girl whose name had blurted out of Sylar's lips, the father of the girl who Sylar's electrogenisist lover hates more than life itself, went and shot her. And not a word has passed between them since.

Sylar wants to think, lucky for me. But he just can't.

As Sylar looks at Elle, and his black eyes meet her blue ones, and he holds out a reel of bandage and some animal plasters, and her bloodied fingers take them without thanks, he feels it swelling up inside him. This foreign feeling that burns and boils and what is it? What is it, what is it, what is it?!

Love.

He loves Elle. Really, honestly, truly he does. He loves her so, so much it hurts. It's killing him. He has wanted to tell her for so long. After everything they've been through. He thinks he might even die for her.

Gabriel Gray would have told her about his irrevocable love for her, if he wasn't so pathetically shy. And Sylar would have told her, if he weren't quite the opposite: far too proud.

Godammit, he wants to go back to that house and pour every single drop of the love he feels into Elle until it drowns her. He wants her to feel his pain. But -

If it were another girl, the only other girl, they wouldn't be in this mess.

If he is technical, Sylar knows that Noah Bennet would never shoot his own daughter. He would put a thousand bullets in Sylar, if he found him and her in the same predicament as he found Sylar and Elle. But still.

If he did shoot his daughter she and Sylar wouldn't be in a department store, trying to bandage up a bullet wound, with some idiotic shop assistant wondering if they need help.

Sylar loves Elle. With every fibre of his being, he loves her.

But Claire would have healed by now.

Liked it? Hated it? Let me know ;)