Ellen performed that night at the Club Maroon with no sign of Gabriel being there to see her. She went home disappointed again wondering what he could have meant when he said he'd see her again that evening. She reached her building with no trouble and went upstairs to her second floor apartment. As she entered and removed the key from the lock in the door she allowed her eyes to flash and the lights in her living room awoke to welcome her.

Stewart raised his head from his comfortable spot on the couch and mewed a greeting to her as she went into her bedroom to change. She came out in her pajamas, a long men's T-shirt and thin sweat pants.

The tabby cat padded after her into the kitchen as she fixed herself a snack, hoping to receive a treat from her. Ellen gave him half a piece of bologna and sat on the couch in the living room with her food and turned on the television, keeping the sound low.

She paid little attention to the late night talk show as she turned over the days events in her mind. The evening had been no different than any other one. But the afternoon had been amazing!

Ellen pulled a knitted afghan from the back of the couch and draped it over her as she lay down, staring blankly at the television. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling his kiss as Stewart leapt onto the couch with her and curled up against her.
Her eyes met with the cats, "Why am I so stupid, Stewart?" she said. "I'm not entirely stupid, just man stupid I guess."
Stewart only looked at her with emerald green eyes. She scratched behind his ears and he purred happily.

Ellen blinked her eyes and the lights went out leaving only the light of the television, cold and blue reflecting in Stewarts large eyes. She sighed to herself and shook her head.

Her breathing had become steady; the rhythm of her heart beat was restful. Sylar stood up on the fire escape and moved to the window silently. The only noise he made was the soft swish of his long black coat as he moved.
With a lift of his finger the latch gave way and the window raised up allowing him to enter the apartment.

It must be done, he continued to tell himself. Though I have no doubt she would give me her power freely she would not be able to. I must take it from her. It must be done.

He followed the sound of her breathing and stepped into the living room. But there was another body there. He hadn't noticed it at first because it was quieter than what he heard from Ellen. Sylar's eyes darted about the room until he realized it wasn't a person at all. The breathing and heart beat were faster, more shallow. It was a small animal of some kind.

Sylar kept moving, approaching the back of the couch when he saw her hand flop over the arm as she stretched in her sleep. Stewart awoke with her movement and sensed another presence in the room. He leaped lightly off the couch and skirted it easily until he was met with a tall dark figure.

The two of them eyed each other for a moment, Stewart sizing Sylar up before he approached and rubbed his side against his ankle. Sylar bent down and scratched the cats back until it grew disinterested and moved on.

He walked around the couch - his hand gently touching the tips of Ellen's fingers as he passed – until he stood in front of her sleeping form.
It must be done.

Kneeling in front of her, he smoothed her hair away from her face and looked at her for a moment. He would make it as clean as possible, and fast. A prick of sadness hit him as he studied her peaceful face, "I believe I could have loved you." He whispered and kissed her forehead.

Sylar raised his hand and pointed his finger at her, just above her eyebrows and started his cut at her left temple. He would do it quickly.
A stinging pain hit him on his forehead but he kept going until the pain was too much for him. He stopped and saw that there wasn't a mark on her skin. There was only a faint line of light that moved across her body and disappeared.

Sylar blinked and saw her still in a deep sleep before him, nothing altered. He tried again, starting at the same place as a hot touch fell down his face. The pain worsened as he came to the middle of her forehead and he saw the rippling energy over her again. It began where he had made contact.
His vision began to blur from the searing pain and he stopped letting out a yell, clamping his hand to his forehead and collapsing to the floor.

Ellen's eyes snapped open as the room lit up. Gabriel lay shaking on the floor in front of the couch. She saw blood seeping through his fingers and fumbled with her blanket until she freed herself from it. She knelt down next to him and tried to calm him.

She pried his hand away from his head and saw blood gushing from a deep cut in his forehead, "Oh, shit." She muttered, stifling her gag reflex as she ran into the bathroom and grabbed towels, disinfectant and bandages.

Gabriel's howls of pain did not dissipate. When she rushed back into the room, she could see hot tears coming from his eyes which were closed shut against the blood and pain. His face was stained red with his own blood.

"Stay calm," Ellen said shakily, "Try to be still."
She tried to hush him and he relaxed a little as she pressed a towel firmly to the wound in order to stop the bleeding. He found her hand and squeezed it tightly. She was too scared to notice the blood draining from her hand in his grip and could feel the tickle in her eyes that usually came before tears.
No. She wouldn't break down. That would get them nowhere and he needed her right now. Gabriel needed her help, so she would help him as he helped her.

Gabriel lay very still, his hand had loosened its vice grip on her and his breathing was slower.
"No, no, no! You stay awake!" she commanded as she leaned over him and patted his face until his eyes opened again.
"Stay here with me, Gabriel." She said, checking under the towel.

He felt so groggy and suddenly very comfortable. All he wanted to do was sleep but he did his best to obey her. "You're helping me." He said in lazy and slurred tones.
"Yeah," she said, "Keep talking to me. I think your bleeding has stopped." She removed the stained towel, exposing the clotted gash on his head and began to clean it.

"Tell me how this happened. Was it Peter?"
"Don't remember." He mumbled, his eyes falling shut again.
Ellen poured disinfectant on some gauze and pressed it to the wound. Gabriel stiffened and twitched from the stinging pain as she cleaned his injury.
"It's all done, Gabriel." She said as she started to clean the blood from his face.

"'s cold in here." He said blearily.
Ellen then realized how pale he was, how he was fighting to keep his eyes open for her, but it wasn't any use. He was going into shock.

Her first aid classes had been ages ago but she thanked herself for actually studying as she remembered most of what to do. She had to get that blood soaked coat off of him first. It wasn't helping keep him warm any longer.
"Come on, Gabriel. Help me sit you up." She hefted him off the floor, her arms around him, and peeled the coat off his body, tossing it aside when she finally had removed it.

"You smell nice." He said as she laid him back down on the carpet. He only wore a thin T-shirt underneath the heavy coat.
Ellen calmed her thoughts. First, keep the victim warm. She left him for a moment and ran about her apartment and found every sheet and blanket she could find, even those on her bed and piled them in the living room next to him.

Next, elevate the victim's legs. She rolled up the afghan she had been using into a tight ball and pushed it under his feet.
After she'd taped a bandage over his forehead and had piled and tucked about a dozen blankets over and around him, she began to realize how tired she was.

"I should call an ambulance." She ran her shaking hands through her hair as she looked at his frail figure on the floor.
"No, Ellen." Gabriel could barely open his eyes but he forced himself to speak, "No. Just stay with me." He said with a lazy half smile.

"You've lost a lot of blood." She said desperately. "I don't know what else to do."
"No, please. I'm warmer now and the pain is gone." He muttered.
"Yeah, right."
"I swear." He said, opening his eyes fully and looking up at her.

Ellen wanted to remain stern with him but she couldn't with those eyes looking at her. She knelt down next to him and scooted underneath the blankets with him. She turned to her side, propping her head up on her hand so she could look at him. His eyes were glazed over and half closed but his breathing was normal and some color had come back to his skin.
She lay down next to him, "You promise you're alright?" she said.

He turned his head to look at her and touched a finger to her face, "Thank you, Ellen." He said and closed his eyes.
Moving closer, she touched her lips to his in a light kiss, "Good night." She said as she found his hand underneath the blankets and held it. His fingers clasped over her hand as she blinked and turned out the lights.

It was so blazing hot that it finally woke him up. He blinked and saw sunlight filtering into the room from a nearby window. Gabriel rubbed his eyes, feeling the fabric of the bandage above his eyebrow and soon realized why he felt so hot. He pushed the blankets off of him and lay there for a moment, his body still felt weak. But he forced himself to sit up. It felt as though his brain was sloshing loosely inside his skull and a wave of nausea hit him.
Ellen wasn't with him. He looked around the room and saw a note taped to the television.

Gabriel,
I had to be somewhere this morning. Please don't leave until I come back. You need to rest. Make yourself at home. There's plenty of food in the fridge. I'll be back soon.
Love,
Ellen

Gabriel flopped back down to the floor in the pile of blankets and rubbed his sore head. What the hell happened last night?

After a polite knock, Ellen let herself in feeling fully prepared for what would be said to her. Claire and Peter were very close and Ellen knew the conversation wouldn't go very far with Claire trying to convince her that Gabriel was a killer while Ellen would try to convince Claire that Peter was dangerous.

Of course, she couldn't be certain. Claire's message only said that she had something important to talk to her about, but Ellen wasn't as fantastically stupid as that.
Ellen knew full well that she didn't have any solid roof, but she believed Peter to be responsible for what happened to Gabriel the night before. She clenched her jaw at the memory; Gabriel writhing in pain on her living room floor. She was still amazed at herself for remaining so calm the entire time.

There were low voices talking when she entered Claire's living room. She could see Claire on the couch with her head of long blonde hair. But she was talking to a man who sat next to her. He looked familiar to Ellen but she couldn't place him at first.

They both turned as she entered the room. Claire smiled as the man stood in a gentlemanly greeting. Ellen looked at him from head to toe and couldn't find a single thing out of place about him. His short hair was parted and combed neatly; he wore a white shirt and tie, with black slacks and freshly polished shoes.

"Ellie, this is Nathan Petrelli." Claire said, standing up and taking Nathan's hand, "This is my good friend, Ellen Warren."
"Pleasure to meet you, Ellen." Nathan said, holding out his hand.

Ellen took it despite her shock. She must have looked like an oogling idiot to him, "It's an honor to meet you, sir." She said.
He smiled warmly at her and invited her to sit down.
All three stare at each other waiting for the other to say what they had on their minds knowing full well it was the same thing.

How on Earth could she know Congressman Petrelli? Did he visit her all the time simply because she was friends with his brother? Ellen stare at them both until she brought up the courage to speak first.
"So, how do you know Mr. Petrelli, Claire? I didn't realize you had such close ties with Congress." Her tone was cold but she didn't care.

The result was immediate. She had struck a chord. Nathan lowered his eyes and Claire glanced at him first before she spoke, "You remember I told you I was adopted?"
"Claire." Nathan put his hand on her knee.
"It's okay." She patted his hand.

"Of course I do. You told me your father had died."
"My adopted father." Claire said and she looked sidelong at Nathan for another moment, "I'd like you to meet my biological father. He's been taking care of me ever since."
Nathan nodded and squeezed his daughter's hand.

Ellen couldn't speak for a few minutes from the surprise of this news, but she felt relieved. One thing that was explained fully was why Claire was so well cared for. She had private tutors and the works. Ellen had simply assumed that Claire had inherited a small fortune from her father after he'd passed.
"That is an amazing story." She said, unable to think of anything more articulate to say. "This is what you needed to speak to me about?"

Claire shook her head.
"No, I'm afraid it isn't." Nathan said, fixing her with his glassy stare, "Claire has told me that you have begun to see someone, someone very dangerous. That is why I'm here."
Ellen bristled immediately, "Gabriel is not dangerous. He has never hurt me."

"Perhaps not, but he will. It has become his nature. He is out of his mind, Miss Warren."
Ellen rolled her eyes, "He has acted more sane than any of you have the past few days."

"Ellie, I wouldn't lie to you about this." Claire said gently. "He is obsessed with gaining more power. That's all he ever wants with anyone."
"No!" Ellen said. The lights flickered throughout the apartment.
Ellen's face was red with anger and frustration. It's not true!

"We're doing this because we don't want you to get hurt." Claire continued.
"I'm not going to listen to this anymore. You have no proof whatsoever." Ellen stood and started out of the room.

"I told you." said a familiar voice directly in front of her making her stop and look around.
Peter materialized out of thin air in front of her. She let out a small scream and backed away. It tore at Peter to see that she was truly frightened of him. Sylar had done a thorough job.
"She won't listen to you." Peter looked at Nathan and Claire who both stood up.

Peter approached her slowly, "He's completely turned everything around with you, hasn't he?"

Ellen continued to back away from him, her eyes frightened, until she ran into the chair she'd been sitting in.
"I keep forgetting how cunning he can be." Peter continued, "You are very right. There is no physical, tangible proof against him. There is therefore, no reason for you to believe us."

Peter's eyes were hard as steel, "So," he said, "I will have to show you!" Peter grabbed Ellen tightly by the arm.

"Peter, NO!" Claire yelled, but she was too late. Ellen and Peter had vanished leaving her and Nathan alone.