A/N: Written for Heroes_Contest drabble challenge #28: "Fire," May 2011. Beta by DancingDragon3.

Meredith stood over the only survivor she'd found in the burning building - Sylar. She'd briefly glimpsed Claire, Noah and Angela standing at the edge of the parking lot in front of the structure. She didn't think they'd seen her moving among the flames, untouched, cloaked by smoke. When she'd seen they were safe, she'd walked back deeper into the inferno. She'd found bodies aplenty, but all were dead, probably from smoke inhalation. Anyone mobile must have escaped as soon as the lockdown ended. Doyle was nowhere to be seen.

But she'd found Sylar and now she knelt next to him. His clothing was charred from the fire; his skin discolored where it was exposed and the heat had distorted his once-handsome features. Since his hair had singed off already, she could see the piece of glass in the back of his head. She remembered what Claire had said of how to stop him. It was a piece of the glass from the Level 5 cell. His body would be incinerated long before it deformed enough to free him. This then, was a true death sentence for him - unless someone helped him.

He'd wanted to prove they were all monsters. Meredith already knew what Angela was. And Noah Bennet … she knew what role he had played in the Company bagging and tagging over the last decade and a half. He'd been one of the reasons why Meredith had hidden herself so carefully. That left Claire. She wasn't sure what Claire was. Her daughter, her flesh and blood - of that she was certain. And Meredith knew she herself was no saint.

The building was creaking. Distant crashes told her of the progress of the fire, consuming and weakening support beams. She was immune to the heat and fumes, but not to falling debris. She had to move quickly, lest she be trapped here. She didn't though … she kept looking at the helpless man in front of her. He had been so powerful, but now his life, or death, was in her hands. Was she a monster, like he had insisted? Or did she have it in herself to be something better?

The woman looked back to the others, to her only child, standing outside of her control with people whose influence could only be negative. She had already seen Noah's firsthand in the way Claire had wanted to become a hunter like him. Did Claire have it in her to resist them, their icy hatred and drive to judge people? Could Claire learn forgiveness? Mercy? Could she learn to give people a second chance, the way Thompson had done for Meredith all those years ago?

Meredith looked down at the crumpled, seared human form of the man who had claimed they were all monsters. If Claire had forgiveness in her, then she wouldn't have inherited it from Nathan. There was too much of his cold, calculating mother in him. No, there was only one source she might get it from. Meredith would prove she was not a monster … and that Claire did not have to be one either. If that meant letting this man live, then so be it. Maybe he would realize not everyone was evil.

Sylar woke, dragging painful breaths into still-healing lungs, coughing out smoke and ashes. Cinders covered his body and for a brief moment before the healing factor caught up and overwhelmed his impression of pain, he registered nothing but agony. He groaned aloud, a ragged sob expressing his torment as he rolled to his hands and knees. A few seconds later it passed. A near-deafening crash brought his head up. His vision had cleared. A quarter of the building had just collapsed. Sylar struggled to his feet and looked around.

He was alone. Clearly, someone had drug him out here onto the cool grass. Next to where he'd woke, there was something stuck in the ground. He reached down and pulled it out, looking at a wedge of glass, smeared with blood.

His ability to see the object's past showed him the identity of his savior, but it told him nothing of her motivations. Why? Confused and unsettled, Sylar looked around again, but there was no one to be seen, no one trying to exploit his survival for their own gain. He stumbled off into the darkness, wondering what to make of being shown such mercy by one of his victims.