Peter's victory over finally managing to get a hit on Sylar was short-found, and a little painful, considering the the rather sharp smack of the IV pole into his forehead. He'd been too distracted, too slow to see it coming - but even though it sent him tumbling, he was up a second later.

This room was too goddamn small. But even though his head was pounding - was that blood he could feel? Bastard - Peter wasn't going to give up so easy. At least the knock to the head had sent the radioactive power short-circuiting, the glow dimming and easing his panic.

"Guess you fixed it," he grinned recklessly, flexing his fingers. But his temporary relief was cut short by the question of how to take Sylar down. He knew he didn't have a chance in the world of trying to stop time right now, his brain was too scrambled, thoughts not connecting properly. This probably wasn't going to end well.