Someone had grabbed his arm. Someone had grabbed his arm, and they weren't letting go. His first instincts were to lash out, hit whatever or whoever it was as hard as he possibly could to get them to give it up, but without his telekinesis to back that action up, there really was no point. Gabriel Gray hit like a girl. So instead, his gaze shifted, boring into the individual that was standing next to him. A flicker of regret shifted into his eyes as he realized that it was Elle that was standing next to him. Elle that had stumbled her way out of their bed, blood and all, and was forcing his hand against her belly.
Feel that? That's our baby. Or it was before you killed her. You killed us both, Gabriel. Noah's right. With those abilities, you're nothing but a monster. You don't deserve them anymore than you deserve us. Why don't you just die? Everyone would be better off.
The Sylar persona cracked. Dealing with Bennet was one thing. He could rationalize that. He could wish away any regrets or reservations that he might have to kill that bastard, but to have his demons, his ghosts, haunting him, telling him what he deserved. His hand jerked back again, a slightly strangled sob coming from his mouth as he stared at the hand that had been on her stomach, flexing and rubbing his fingers together in the blood that had come away before collapsing to his knees and looking up at Noah.
"Kill me, Bennet. I know you've wanted to for a long time so I'm giving you want you most desire," He said, ducking his head, the skin around his neck rippling slowly. "The spot's back in the back of my head," He said, bowing forward. "Just kill me. Then you'll all be better off."