A/N: Okay so I lied last chapter, sorry. Here's the fight.
Claire's P.O.V.
Claire stepped carefully behind Sylar, trying to be as silent as he was. It seemed effortless for him to move with such stealth; she couldn't help but admire it. Suddenly, his lionesque movements halted. His hand reached back to motion her to a stop.
She held as immobile as possible, stilling her breath even while her heart pounded erratically. Time dragged by while she waited, not knowing the reason for their caution. Finally, there was a flurry of movement; two men rounded the corner directly in front of them. Meanwhile, Sylar raised his hands quickly, grabbing them around the neck telekinetically and twisting his wrists, snapping their necks. He moved their bodies several feet behind Claire's position.
She caught the worried glance he spared her. She gave hi9m a quick nod; she hoped he understood that she wasn't going to hold anything that happened during the mission against him. He looked at her and gave a faint, almost sad, smile. She wasn't sure what that look meant but she would have to wait until later to find out; Sylar had already began moving again.
They were creeping along the third level of the building when the alarms suddenly started blaring, the emergency lights flashing. She heard him mutter beneath his breath, something about incompetence. She expected them to abandon the sneakiness but still he kept them to the shadows, though he didn't seem quite as concerned with the noise they made.
At last, they reached their destination, the room containing all the information on 'specials'. Claire pulled out her cell and handed it to Sylar. She turned her attention to the doorway behind them. It was her responsibility to make sure no one interfered while Sylar plugged Micah into the Division's system and then destroyed all the paper evidence.
She sucked in a deep breath, alerting Sylar, as the door began to open. She removed her father's spare gun from her hip and nervously pointed it at the door. The door, however, remained open only a crack until a metallic clinking rolled across the floor, the door then snapped shut.
"Grenade," she whispered, trying to protect her head with her arms as she dove on top of it. She could only hope to absorb most of the blast to save Sylar.
"No!" he yelled from behind her just a fraction of a second before the blast deafened her.
As her brain awoke from death, she saw her lover's strained face above her. She reached a bloody hand up to his cheek.
"Claire, don't you ever do something so stupid again."
She tried to stand but began to panic when her body didn't obey her command. "What-" she choked out.
"You're still healing." His eyes drifted to her midsection then flashed back to her face. "It's gonna take some more time."
"T-time? We don't have time." Again she tried to stand but to no avail.
"You don't have a choice." Confused, she lifted her head to see what had happened to her body, but he tried to stop her, "Don't."
She paused but knew she had to see. Her mouth fell open as she saw her lower body slowly regenerating itself out of her stomach. "My god," she gasped. Glancing at the room surrounding them, she saw it was covered in blood and body parts.
Claire very nearly retched when she saw her hips and legs lying discarded across the room. "Are you…" she whispered, suddenly remembering why she had launched herself onto the grenade in the first place. Her eyes traveled his body.
Sylar's shirt was torn in several places and he was absolutely smothered in blood; though she suspected it was mostly hers. "I'm fine," he answered, shaking his head. "The paper's taken care of," he gestured to the still smoldering pile of ash, "and Micah's done too. It's almost over."
"Almost?" She risked a look down and saw her body too, was almost near completion. Her feet were sprouting from her legs. Then her eyes widened as she noticed something she hadn't before. "I'm naked!"
Sylar's P.O.V.
He couldn't help himself; he chuckled. Shaking his head, he glanced around the room. "Just…don't watch alright?" He waited until he was sure she wasn't looking before stripping her old legs of their pants. He grinned when the panties fell out of her pocket. He thought about handing them to her with a smirk, but chose to put them in his own pocket instead.
Turning back, he saw she had sat up and was watching as skin grew to cover her newly-formed toes. He tossed the bottoms to her and turned his back so she could cover herself. He waited patiently, watching the door, listening for any more agents to join the previous three in the pile of ash.
Little hands circled his waist as her body pressed against his back. "Thank you," she mumbled into his shirt.
"We have to move," he said, staying still despite his words. She sighed and released him. Sylar took a moment to harden himself in preparation of more killing. "Let's go."
He led the way out and into the hallway, Claire close to his heels. A loud explosion sounded from their right. They turned to face the threat just as Peter staggered around the corner towards them. His chest was a mess of minced meat. He shot a feeble blast of lightening behind him and collapsed to his knees.
"Peter!" Claire screamed, running towards him. All of a sudden Nathan flew around the same corner Peter had escaped from. He didn't even pause as he snatched her up in mid-stride and flew rapidly towards the exit.
"No! Sylar! Peter!" Her screams echoed long after she had disappeared.
Pissed, Sylar almost followed immediately behind. But, his eye was caught by the slumping figure forming another ball of electricity.
"Run," he gasped, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Unexpectedly, he shot the lightening towards Sylar, who flinched away and charged his own hands. A scream of agony ripped through the hall from directly behind him. He spun to see Noah's burnt figure fall to the ground, dropping a large knife.
Sylar barely had time to fire his powers down the way, over Peter's head, catching the agents making their way towards them. He grinned as he recognized Danko among the fallen. He slit the man's throat as an extra precaution before abandoning the attack. The mission was complete; he had only to evacuate the building before they leveled it.
He wiped his hands as clean as possible on one of the men's shirts. A weak cough reminded him that he wasn't alone.
Peter lay on his side, barely breathing, covered in blood. Sylar took the time to squat down in front of him, tilting his head. "Can't just leave you here, can I?"
"Go," Peter said with massive effort.
"Always the noble one." He ran a finger across the man's forehead, following the path he desperately wished to carve open. "Must be where she gets it from. Certainly didn't come from her paternal figures." Peter blinked glassy eyes up at him. "You really should stop tempting me like this. It's not in my nature to keep choosing her over myself."
"Yes…it…is." Peter's eyes closed. His breath was shallow and slow, heart pumping softly without real rhythm.
Sylar sighed and looked longingly at Petrelli's forehead again. "No. It's not."
Claire's P.O.V.
"Let go of me!" Claire screamed. She punched every inch of the men holding her that she could reach. She wasn't even sure who they were. Nathan had delivered her to them before returning to the larger group, using various abilities to destroy the building's foundation. "They're still in there! Nathan! Please, you can't do this!"
She struggled even harder when it started to tremble. It was collapsing in on itself, the noise hurting her ears. "No!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew Sylar could survive the destruction, as long as his head remained uncrushed. But with an entire building falling on him, those just weren't good odds. And Peter, poor Peter. And her dad. Where was he? Was he still inside too? What was Nathan thinking? "Stop! You have to stop," she sobbed.
As the dust settled, the men restraining her let her fall to the ground. She was a swirl of mixed emotions, but the only one she seemed capable of expressing was grief.
"Claire." Nathan approached her cautiously. "Honey."
"What did you do?" she whispered.
"I did what had to be done." He sounded so confident with his smooth politician's voice.
"What did you do?!" she scre3amed, scrambling to her feet. "What the hell-"
"Claire, that's enough," Nathan responded gruffly. He tried to grab her shoulders but she shoved him off and punched him square in the nose, throwing all of her weight into the blow. He gave a yell and covered his face, backing away from her. She could see the blood leaking past his hands.
"How could you?" she accused, balling her fist for a second attack.
"Claire!" Her name was being hollered from near the fallen building. She could hardly believe her eyes when she saw Sylar throwing chunks of concrete out of his way to reach her. He had something slung over his shoulders. She started running to him, intent on wrapping her arms around him. "Hurry. We don't have much time," he called, rushing toward her.
As she drew near, she realized it was Peter he was carrying. "Oh god." She dropped to her knees beside them. "I-what do I do?" She panicked; she needed a syringe to heal him.
"Touch him," Sylar instructed, guiding both of her hands to her uncle's face. "Let him absorb your ability."
They waited breathlessly, silently. Nathan and many of the others had drawn near. "It's not working," her father choked out and fell to his knees.
"Yes it is," Sylar corrected, "His hearts picking up her rhythm."
They all watched as his chest wounds closed and his eyelids started to flutter. Claire refused to remove her hands until he finally blinked his eyes open and offered her a small smile.
Peter looked over to Sylar and nodded. "Yes, it is."
Claire scrunched up her forehead and looked to find a very open look on Sylar's face. She wondered if she'd ever find out what that meant.
A/N: Haha! You thought I was going to kill Peter didn't you? Nope nope nope. Epilogue will be up soon.