Time had flown by. She was certain she had left with enough time to spare but according to her watch she was late – again. Ellen started to run down the street, her feet tramping hard on the pavement, her breath catching harshly in her chest as she gulped in the air. She reached the intersection of 5th and Jefferson and stopped on the corner to catch her breath completely unaware of the eyes watching her.

Peter watched the scene unfold in front of him as he had pictured it over and over again in his mind. Her shoe snapped on the curb and Sylar was there – out of nowhere – to catch her. He saw her smile up at him, oblivious to what he really was, and he helped her back onto the sidewalk.

Peter found that he understood a small part of what she had done to Sylar. Here was a person who knew nothing of his past or what he planned for the future. All she saw was a gentleman helping her when she was in need of it.
Ellen leaned on Sylar as he examined her shoe, his thoughts confusing and continually contradicting themselves as Peter listened.

"I don't want to be any trouble to you – "
Peter heard the innocent exchange between them until they limped off together down the street, Sylar holding her close to him as though he actually cared for her well being.

Claire would have yelled madly at him if she knew he was there. She would say he was torturing himself which would not be an entirely inaccurate assumption. But he had to see. He had to know if things would go back the way they were. Despite all he'd done he watched helplessly as Ellen's fate unraveled itself all over again.
Peter felt he couldn't take much more and began to realize how tired he was. He hadn't slept for days at least though no actual time had passed for him.

They had gone around the corner at the far end of the street and Peter stared after them, the need to talk to Claire entering his mind. Claire was the only other person he could share things with that he could not share with Nathan. She wasn't judgmental and only gave her opinion which almost always helped Peter to see things in an entirely different way. Claire was the only one he could really talk to; who he could get a female perspective on things from until he met Ellen.

With Ellen it was different, though. He'd only known her a short time but from the moment he first saw her and caught the gaze of those unnaturally bright eyes he believed he could tell her absolutely anything.
But she was gone and Claire would have been right, he was torturing himself by going back to see her.

Peter found himself back in his own bedroom. The room was dark and matched the black sky outside. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand, it read 1:25am – just a few hours after he'd left to see Ellen sing and thought of the plan to save her.

His muscles protested as he stood there, aching and in need of a long rest. Peter groaned and took off his shirt before falling into bed. His thoughts were irrational and stupid. They floated away the moment he believed he could focus on one as his body relaxed and he fell asleep.
Perhaps tomorrow he would feel better.

----

Daylight filtered palely into the room. The muffled sounds of bird song came from outside and woke his ears to the sound.
His body felt like lead, sinking deeper into the mattress as he grunted and turned over. Peter's sharp hearing was quite awake though and he heard the door click open as quietly as possible and snapped shut again.

Peter felt a presence in the room and then the pressure of someone sitting next to him on the bed but he was so groggy he didn't really believe anyone was actually in the room with him. His mother never entered a room as gently as that and Nathan simply waited for him to wake up whenever he did.

A soft, sweet, melodic humming touched him and he felt delicate fingers lift his hair from his face. He slowly opened his eyes still believing he was dreaming, knowing very well that when he turned over she wouldn't be there.
The humming continued, warmer and more lovely than any song bird and he felt her hand slip into his own.

It wasn't real! There is no way it can be real.
Peter finally turned onto his back, his eyes open and well aware that he was not dreaming.

She stopped humming, "There you are." She said brightly and saw the expression on his face, "Don't worry, I'm not breaking and entering. Nathan let me in before he left – said that you came in late last night."

Peter could not find his voice to speak from the shock he felt. Ellen sat there next to him, whole and alive. She wore her hair down with a baseball cap over it.
"What's that look for?" she said.

Peter sat up, hardly blinking his eyes for fear that she'd disappear if he wasn't looking. He choked and squeezed her hand – she squeezed back. He put his hand to her cheek and neck – her skin was warm and quite real.

"You're here." He croaked.
"I'm here." She said softly, "Are you alright?"
"Ellen." He breathed, pushed forward quickly and kissed her on the mouth – his final test. She responded and kissed back and laughed when his arms took hold of her and held her tightly to him as he kissed her on her forehead and cheeks.

"You're alive." He said, pulling her to him and holding her in his embrace.
"Of course I am." She said in his ear. "You've been there to protect me whenever I've needed you." She pulled away to look at him. "I'm alive and I'm here, Peter." She said.

He kissed her hungrily, holding her to him and rested his forehead against hers after they pulled away. Peter closed his eyes for a moment, feeling her arms around him, her hands on his skin. He opened his eyes and felt her heart beat against his chest, her warm breath on his lips, and heard her questioning thoughts.

"Peter, you're shaking." She said and pulled him into her arms.
He kissed her neck as she held him and felt her hand on his neck and in his hair.
"Did you have one of those dreams again?" her voice was strictly serious.
Poor thing. I don't know how he sleeps at all.

Peter truly believed in that moment that he could stay in her arms forever and her in his – that there was no need for him to ever let her go. He leaned back with her until they both lay on the bed huddled next to each other.
He pushed the baseball cap off her head and kept his arms around her.

"No," he said, "It was a nightmare. I dreamed that you had been killed and that I couldn't save you." He felt a stinging in his eyes at the memory, "I had to live without you."
"It was only a dream." She said and looked at him closely, "Are you alright?"
"I'm not sure."
She cuddled up to him, "Whatever it was, I'm here now and nothing can change that."

Peter couldn't understand it. Everything went back to the way it was, didn't it? Unless that accidental trip he and Hiro had made actually made a difference. But how could that fit?

"What were we going to do today?" he said.
"You were going to take me to a baseball game." Ellen lifted her eyes to him, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think I will be." Peter said, lacing his fingers in her hair. "Will you stay with me, just for a little while before we go?"
"Absolutely." She said
They fell silent for a minute until Peter spoke again, "Ellen?"
"Yeah?" she said lazily as though she were falling asleep.
"Would you sing that rainbow song?"

Ellen smiled, "Okay, but you should know that I charge by the minute."
Peter laughed, "I'll buy you a hot dog at the stadium."
"Nachos?"
"Sure."
"Deal."

Ellen took a breath and began to sing softly as Peter closed his eyes and fell into the sound of her voice as the memories and emotions of the last few days melted away and left room for the ones he wanted to make with her.

----

"Thank you for coming." He muttered softly.
"Do not thank me." He replied harshly, "This is no favor to you. I only came because you told me someone was hurt."

Mohinder Suresh packed his supplies back into his medical bag without taking his eyes off of Sylar as he stood there watching him. "I'm still amazed at myself that I actually believed you and decided to come."

"I have no reason to harm you…yet." He said as Dr. Suresh stood.
Mohinder decided to ignore the threat, "Your friend is stable for now – "
"He's not my friend." He said quickly.

Mohinder studied him for a moment before continuing, "He really should be at a hospital. There's only so much I can do for him.
"But, amazingly enough, he will be alright eventually. The wounds have managed to pull themselves together somehow."

Unlike his usual more confident self, Sylar avoided Mohinder's eyes, which made the doctor even more suspicious. "Do you know who he is?"
"No." Sylar answered too quickly. "I mean – I don't know him very well. He's…family."

Mohinder nodded in agreement. When he'd examined the man he could not help but notice the surprising similarities in appearance between the two men. He started feeling the uneasiness from Sylar and attempted to leave.
"I would ask you now to never contact me again but even if you agreed I wouldn't be able to believe you." He said as he headed for the door of the studio.

Sylar didn't respond and walked with him to the door.
"He will need rest and fluids. I cannot imagine how or why you are going to take care of him but I really don't want to know at this point." He nodded, turned on his heel, and strode out of the apartment and down the street.

Sylar suddenly felt very alone. There was a man lying in the bed across the room that was a stranger to him but every bit of him believed that he knew this man very well and for certain. He had literally appeared out of nowhere with his serious wounds and a few burns on his face and neck. Sylar didn't know what to make of it.

He walked over to the bed where the man lay with his shirt off and bandages around the wounds to his chest and stomach. His breathing was sharp and ragged but steady.

Sylar listened to the weak heartbeat but its strength was still there in it – resilient, undying stubbornness was in it. Darkness as well as he'd seen when the man first appeared and demand that Sylar help him.
Sylar had seen darkness, he believed he was a part of it but this man was so deep in it that it even frightened him a little to behold him.

The man's eyes opened, they were a deep brown under the thick dark brows – very similar to Sylar's features. He took in a deep breath but choked on it from the pain he felt in his chest.
His eyes fell upon Sylar who stood a small distance from the bed, staring at him.

"There really is no ending is there?" he said gruffly. He eyed Sylar in detail for a moment, "You are afraid of me." He observed.
Sylar immediately stiffened and stuck out his chin defiantly, "Who are you?" he said.

The man smiled vaguely and chuckled a painful laugh. "You really aren't as bright as you make yourself out to be you know. I remember believing how brilliantly unstoppable I was and look at me now. The same enemies, the same result." He touched the bandage that was over his chest. "It is fascinating how time does that to you. Full circle as it were."

He saw Sylar's confused and curious expression. There was also a small spark in his dark eyes which he knew very well. He remembered that look. It was the look of anticipation, of curiosity, of the desire that drove him to what he was.

"I apologize, Gabriel. I haven't introduced myself."
Sylar started, "How do you know - ?"
"I feel we've already had this discussion once haven't we?" he adjusted himself on the bed and rolled his eyes, "I suppose I have to lay it all out piece by piece for you." He said sardonically.
"First I shall give you the biggest piece. I know you just as you know me, Gabriel. I am you as you are me. We are one and the same. We are both Sylar. Don't you recognize me?"

The End