Charlotte sat next to Sylar, carefully stitching his wound, the large gash on his shoulder, and disinfecting it. She would've needed stitches, but she had healed.

Sylar sucked in a breath as the needle went through his skin. Charlotte finished stitching and kissed his cheek. "Sorry... I did say it would hurt."

Sylar nodded and touched his shoulder. He rolled his eyes as Charlotte gently slapped his hand away. She poured some alcohol on his stitched wound and he hissed in pain.

Charlotte placed a bandage over the stitches and taped it in place. "There." She said quitely. "All done."

Sylar stared at the brunette as she picked up the first aid items. "Charlie." He said quitely.

She turned around after putting the items away. "Hm?"

Sylar attempted to get up but then Charlotte raced over and put her hands on his chest, gently pushing him back down. "Do not stand up."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because, you hurt your legs, remember? You broke one of them. It is not a spectacular idea to walk."

Sylar nodded. "Anyway... Why did you save me... Even after what I did?"

Charlotte looked down at her hands and sighed. "You mean after you broke my arm and threw me off a building to 'save me'?"

Sylar nodded.

Charlotte stared at him. "Because we've been best friends for a very long time. I told you, when we became friends, that no matter what you did, or I did, we will still be friends."

He shook his head. "But I broke your arm. And threw you off of a building!"

"No matter what you did, or what I did, we will still be friends."

Sylar watched her as she got up. Watching her wash her hands and dry them. He had now noticed her wearing an over-sized t-shirt and what appeared to be nothing under it.

"Charlotte?" He asked.

"Yeah?" She said while turning to him and resting her hands against the sink.

"Are you wearing one of my shirts?"

Charlotte nodded. "You said I could borrow it... I'll take it off." She said while pulling the ends of it up to reveal her black underwear and toned looking stomach.

Sylar looked at the wall next to him and spoke. ''No... Keep it. Its fine." He felt a small blush creep to his cheeks. It felt odd because he never felt that way before.

Charlotte nodded and pulled the shirt back down. She walked over to a door and opened it, walking back over to Sylar and telling him to hold still.

He complied and expected her to do exactly what she did, levitate him to the door. She moved him through it and closed the door. SHe carefully moved him up the stairs and into her living room. She set him on the couch and adjusted him in his spot.

''Do you need anything Sy?" She asked.

He looked at her. "Maybe some water..."

"Okay." Charlotte said. She started moving her hands in the air, water appeared and she made a glass levitate into the living room. Charlotte made the water float into the glass. She stopped as the glass was full and gave it to Sylar. A small smile appeared on his face. He took a sip and breathed out.

"Fresh." He said.

Charlotte smiled and went and got the remote. She sat on the chair closest to him and turned on the television. A comedy show was on and Charlotte rolled her eyes. She switched it to the science fiction channel and got up. "I'm gonna go get Roscoe some food. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

She walked to the kitchen and a very large Doberman, the size of a small horse, barrelled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Charlotte poured some food out for Roscoe and refilled his water dish. After he ate some food he ran into the living room and sat next to the couch. Sylar patted Roscoe's head and rubbed him behind his ears.

"Hello Roscoe." He said quitely. Roscoe barked in response and licked Sylar's hand.

Charlotte sat on the counter and rubbed her temples. She lifted up the sleeve on her right arm and poked the bandage. She winced.

Sylar rubbed his arm and stared at the television. He watched the documentary about space and yawned.

Charlotte hopped of the counter and leaned against it. Her mind coming to life with thoughts.

Does he remember what happened?

Does him remember what I did?

Does he remember what he did?

Does he remember what Peter and I did?

Does he remember me killing those people?

Does he even remember himself dying?

She stayed there, deep in thought until she heard Roscoe barking and the doorbell ring.