Ellen lifted her head to the sound of birds outside. She blinked in the sunlight streaming in from a wide bay window. There was warm carpet beneath her, she stroked it with her hands before raising her head to see where she was.

It was a beautiful spring day. She could see blossoms on the tree in the yard outside. The air smelled fresh and clean.
She wanted to laugh out loud. It had been a dream, a horrible and glorious nightmare that she was able to wake from. She sat up, her head feeling groggy and sensitive as she noticed she was still wearing Gabriel's shirt he had given her. There were spots of blood on the sleeve.

"Ellen? Here you are!" a very familiar and very welcome voice spoke as he entered the room.
Ellen saw Peter coming towards her and he flopped himself next to her on the floor. She looked as though she wanted to tackle and kiss him right then, she was so grateful to see him.
"Peter!" she said, and nearly knocked him over with a hug, holding him tightly to her. "I had the most awful dream but…how did I get here?"

Peter smiled and laughed as he stroked her hair. "I found you, scared to death but alive. But it doesn't matter, you're here with me."
Ellen heard a tone in his voice that didn't seem right to her. It was Peter's voice but it seemed strange to her. She pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes.

"How do you feel?" Peter said.
"I feel so much better, now that you're here." She dismissed her intuition and smiled.
"Relaxed?"
"…yes."

"Good."
Peter's eyes hardened and he lifted a hand to her, his finger pointed at her forehead. The invisible cut he released was deflected by her, a field of energy rippling across her frightened eyes, and bounced across the room, cutting deep gash into the wall behind Peter.

The room changed, the coldness grew all around her and she felt the concrete beneath her. Sylar's face came into focus in front of her, it was disappointed.

Ellen felt herself in a corner so she couldn't back away. Her hand moved to her forehead. There wasn't a mark on her skin and instead of the bloody gash she expected to feel she felt a soft piece of fabric in its place. She looked up at the far wall and saw a cut along it from Sylar's attempt.

Sylar let a long breath slip past his lips. "I'm sorry to have done that to you."
"No you're not." Ellen said, pushing herself further into the corner.
"Whether you believe me or not is no concern of mine. I learned long ago that I could never lie to you without much difficulty."
"You seem to have overcome that."

Sylar didn't answer and got to his feet. "Catching you off guard does not seem to be the answer." He said. "I would have preferred that. It would have been the easiest way."

"You would have me die believing Peter had killed me? Don't sell yourself short, you can lie very well to anyone I think…what was it you called yourself? Sylar?"
Sylar felt a shiver down his spine at hearing her speak his chosen name. In her voice it carried a ring as loud as a church bell and ten times as harsh.

Ellen saw the discomfort on his face and continued, "If you are going to kill me, Sylar, I would prefer it if you tried doing it quickly."
Sylar's eyes flashed dangerously at her but his expression remained neutral, "As you wish, Ellen. But I cannot make any promises."
They stared at each other for a long minute before Sylar broke his contact and moved away.

Ellen saw a crate with a tray of food sitting on it next to the wall to her left.
"You need to keep up your strength." He said simply as he noticed where she was looking.
"Why, if you're just going to kill me later?"

Sylar moved to the door, which now had a strong metal lock on it, "A starved brain is almost as useless as a dead one." He said and turned to face her before he left. "I would tell you to give in and eat now but it wouldn't matter. I know you, Ellen. But you'll give in eventually. I can hear your stomach from a hundred meters away." He said before turning his back on her and shutting the door.
Ellen heard the locks snapping into place and she curled up in her corner, finally noticing that he somehow had gotten the lights to come back on.

She eyed the food on the tray and knew Sylar had been correct. She was starving. It had been ages since she'd eaten anything, traveling back and forth and back and forth through time so much she realized that she didn't even know how much time had passed for her.

Her head ached so badly and her entire left side hurt from her second push to the floor. She shivered, the cool air getting to her. There were no windows anywhere as she had noticed before. Perhaps they were underground somewhere. But where? And more importantly, when?

Ellen looked at the food again and her stomach lurched. She got slowly and painfully to her feet and shuffled over to the crate.
The tray held a cup of hot tea and simple sandwich. She sat down next to it and picked up a half of the sandwich. The meat looked a little gray and the bread was stale but she bit off a piece and chewed with satisfaction. It tasted marvelous for a simple turkey-like sandwich. Taking a sip of the tea, she welcomed the heat of it as it moved inside her, warming her to the tips of her fingers.
The food was gone within the next few minutes and she found herself alone again only with her terrified thoughts of what would become of her.

She wished for a piece of paper at least so she could write something, anything to those she cared for. For a reason she couldn't decipher though, she knew that any message she wrote would not get to anyone from where she was.

Drowsiness hit her gently, she tucked her knees up to her chest and rested her head against the wall as her heavy eyes closed and she fell asleep almost instantly.

----

Peter was in front of her, standing there, staring at her but she couldn't get to him. Restraints that she couldn't see were keeping her tethered to the spot she was in. He made no move to help her as she fought and screamed to be freed until his form faded from her sight, leaving her alone in a pitch blackness…

Her eyes opened slowly, the feeling she was being watched was overwhelming and was answered when she saw him.
Sylar sat on the floor against the opposite wall, his eyes upon her unblinkingly. His hands were folded neatly in his lap and he tilted his head slightly to one side as he saw her waking up, "Are you feeling better?"
"Yes." Ellen had to stop herself from adding "thank you" to her statement.

"Excellent." Sylar got to his feet in one smooth movement and strode over to her. He sat down next to her, ignoring her body shrinking away from him and looked into her eyes. The pupils were dilated just slightly as he'd expected.

"You don't feel a lot, do you?" he said casually.
Ellen considered the question curiously, "Um, no actually. My arms and legs feel really heavy."
Sylar nodded once and looked at her, "It's something an old friend used on me many years ago. I believe he called it a curare. It has some very interesting paralytic effects. But not to worry, it won't harm you."

Ellen shuddered at the expression on his face. Pure pleasure as he looked at her. There was no way she could fight. Her control of her body had gone and her head felt so heavy.

"You should be very impressed with me." He said.
"Because you managed to drug an unarmed woman? Oh, congratulations!" she said sluggishly.

"No, because any type of curare is difficult to come by these days as it is incredibly illegal." He saw the confusion on her face, "Of course, you aren't even aware of where you are." He considered for a moment, "To be fair to you, I'll give you a bit of a summary.
"When a certain professor of genetics made the fact public that humans were evolving, discovering different abilities they had not been aware of before due to a certain genetic coding the entire world split itself in two. My cause was lost in the shuffle as the fear of ordinary humans over powered the calls for peace and useless negotiation.
"You are in my time, Ellen, your future and all we know now is war. Factions of humans with the genetic sequences you and I possess are battling against the rest of the world who are willing to fight leaving the rest of us with the mess in between.
"Years ago, all types of curare were made strictly illegal because it does not allow us to control our abilities, leaving us defenseless.
"So believe me when I tell you that when I do kill you, Ellen I will be doing you a favor. You cannot go back and you could not live in this time."

Ellen felt the crashing of hopelessness surround her, caving in on her as he spoke. She wanted to lash out at him, attempt to escape again and risk it on her own in his world, but she felt so weak that she could not even bother to stand.

Sylar was watching her, "Don't be sad, my dear." He said gently as he knelt in front of her. "It will do no good to drag this out any longer." He pointed his finger at her again. "I am glad to have seen you again for what it's worth."

Ellen felt a rage inside of her but she could not act on it. She saw the rippling waves of her protective energy again and Sylar pressed in closer.
The pain was incredible and hit her hard when he finally cut through. She released a shrieking scream but he did not appear to hear it and kept going. The pain stopped and she opened her eyes, seeing the frustration on his face and the cut being deflected again.

Sylar growled in his throat and tried again, pushing harder and harder until he was able to punch through leaving an incomplete cut along her forehead.

Ellen screamed and tried to fight but she could barely move – feeling the blood begin to seep down her face when he broke through her defenses once again.