As the weeks wore on, Noah felt himself becoming increasingly miserable. He felt like a prisoner. Every time he wanted to go out, do groceries or simply stretch his still normal functioning leg, he had to use those damn crutches. He hated them. They made him look weak, they slowed him down and above all he hated to be so damn dependent on them. He refused to use them, except when it was absolute necessary. Which was inside the apartment and the occasional trip to his physical therapy. Apart from that he hardly came outside and not just because of his leg.

Loads of people had tried to approach him ever since he had been discharged from the hospital. Reporters, journalists, random people who had come from all over the country and beyond to hear what Noah had to say about abilities. It wasn't so bad at first, but the more often they came to his doorstep, the more reluctant he became to answer their questions.

So, he moved. He moved to Lauren's apartment. She had offered to help him and although he didn't like being dependent on her either, he still thanked his lucky stars for having her in his life. She was everything he needed. He still couldn't quite understand what it was she saw in him, but he didn't ponder on it either. He had feelings for her, she had feelings for him and that seemed to be enough for the both of them. For now, at least.

Because of his leg, Noah had a lot of time. Time was hanging heavy on his hands as he stayed in Lauren's apartment day in day out while she was off to work. The exercises, his therapist described for him to do with his leg, were not nearly enough to pass the days. He didn't want to risk going outside for a walk with his crutches, if that meant that people would recognise him. All he had left to fill the hours was reading the newspapers that Lauren brought with her, and watching television.

And watching television he did. Noah watched as much television as possible, even though it only added to his gloomy, miserable mood. He felt excluded from something he had always been such a big part of for such a long time. He could only watch and follow the news to keep himself informed on what was going on in the world.

Which turned out to be not that much.

They no longer showed the press conference, or Claire leaping from the top of the Ferris wheel, or the video of Noah shooting Sylar. The news returned to what it had always been. 'Reality'. The stock market, some large company facing bankruptcy, an earthquake here, a suicide bombing there. They showed anything but news about abilities. Noah felt frustrated, angry and worthless for not being able to go out there and finding out himself.

It was near the end of March, on a cold and misty morning that Noah woke with a start. He turned his head on the pillow and reached for his watch. It was only seven o'clock, which meant that Lauren had gone off to work already. He sat up, his arms supporting his weight and leaned back against the headboard. Another purposeless day ahead of him.

Or maybe not.

There was a loud knock on the door, followed by a softer, almost hesitating second knock.

Lauren had left the door in the bedroom ajar, so Noah was able to look all the way across the living room at the front door. A frown started to form on his face as he took his glasses from the bedside table. Lauren never had visitors, not since he had moved in anyway. Neither did he, which meant he didn't have to answer. All he had to do was wait for whoever had knocked to leave. He or she had to leave eventually and Noah would be able to stay in bed and try to get some more sleep.

Three louder, more persistent knocks were enough for Noah to grab one of his crutches. Something about those knocks didn't feel right to him. Working all those years for the Company had forged him into a man of caution. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe it was just one of the neighbours or another reporter who had found out where he lived nowadays. Or maybe it was Rebecca, who had gone MIA ever since she tried to kill Noah and failed. Whoever it was, Noah couldn't ignore the possible danger on the other side of that door. He took Lauren's gun from her side of the bed and hid it behind his back as he hopped into the living room.

How he was going to aim that gun, balancing on one leg, with the support of only one crutch, he did not know. Lauren had made a point when she told him that that leg would get him killed some day. He was out of shape from the lack of exercise, he had not shot a single bullet in two months and then there was the fact that he was dressed in only his sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He didn't look as intimidating as he did when wearing a suit.

Three more knocks followed.

"Who's there?" Noah asked in the most calming voice he could muster.

"Abby Collins."

Abby? Noah narrowed his eyes at the door. He had left his gun stuck in the waistband of his sweatpants, where he could reach it if necessary.

He stood in the middle of the living room, leaning on his crutch, feeling incredibly stupid. He had seen Abby a little more than two months ago. They had gotten along pretty good. She didn't like his withdrawal from the Company, but she couldn't force him to stay either. He was done with all of that and that's exactly what he had told her.

"Coming," he told her as he hopped toward the door. He opened it slightly, leaning against the wall to keep his balance and found himself facing Abby Collins. "Morning," he said as he readjusted his t-shirt to hide his gun even more. "You're here to see Lauren?"

"No," Abby answered and walked in without waiting for Noah's invitation to do so. "How's the leg?"

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Not much improvement. How's the concussion?"

"Gone."

He regarded Abby as she stood there looking around. He was unable to read the expression on her face. She didn't come to see Lauren. She came to see him. "How did you know I was here?"

"Finding you was easy, Noah. It surprises me that the media hasn't found you yet." She grimaced and went to the window. "Finding your daughter, however, appears to be more difficult than I thought it would be."

Noah wanted to close the door, but ended up slamming it shut, instead. "You're trying to find Claire?" he asked, bewildered. "Why?" He had been craving to hear about Claire, but not like this. Not this your-daughter-has-gone-missing crap Abby was giving him. He needed more than that. "What do you want from her?" His heart-rate increased as if he had just run a marathon.

"Calm down, Mr Bennet." Abby's voice sounded a lot sterner all of a sudden. "We need her, but not to experiment on her or use her blood. I know, that that's what you fear, but you don't have to worry about that. We need her face, her voice. We need her to calm everybody down."

"Calm everybody down," Noah repeated ponderously as he hopped towards the armchair he had claimed as his own ever since he moved in. "Why? What's happening out there?" Did he miss something? Something the news wouldn't show him? It had been remarkably quiet around the subject of specials, but that could mean anything. It could mean that there really wasn't anything going on out there, or… Or it could mean that there was, in fact, a lot going on and it was all being kept under the radar. The latter seemed more likely.

"I might as well tell you now seeing as it will become public knowledge in a few days." She left the window and took a seat opposite from Noah. "There's going to be a database," she explained. "Actually… it already exists. We've got a lot of people working on it as we speak.

"What kind of database?"

"A database which will hold the names, the blood, saliva and fingerprints of every single person known to have an ability. I know what you're thinking," she said when she saw the look on his face. "How are we going to find them all?"

"That wasn't what I was thinking."

"Ah," she smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "How are we going to make them give up their DNA?" Noah gave no response, which she took as a 'yes'. "It's not a request. Each and every single one of them will receive a letter that orders them to deliver their DNA to the local authority. Those who have an ability are legally obliged to come forward about it. They get to live their lives, like they always did. Nothing will happen to them." She shifted uncomfortably. "These measures will be implemented on the first of April this year, just so you know."

Noah sank even further into his chair. He had expected something like that would happen, but not so soon. It reminded him of his time working with Nathan and Homeland Security. This database was way more discrete than capturing people with powers in secret, but it violated their rights to keep their powers private. "And that's why you want Claire..."

Abby pursed her lips and moved her head thoughtfully. "Not precisely. Yes, she will have to give her blood, just like everybody else, but we also need her to encourage those who are afraid that their information will fall into the wrong hands. It's to be expected that not every person with an ability will give up their blood so willingly. That's why we need her. She can take away that fear and it'll make everything a lot easier for us."

"What happens when they don't cooperate?"

"Like I said, Noah. It's not a request. If and when we find out that someone has been keeping their power secret, he or she will be arrested. Of course, there'll be an investigation and a Court case to determine how long they have known about their power and what punishment is required for breaking the law."

"So, it's a list. Do you know what happened the last time somebody made a list of people with special abilities? It got into the wrong hands and now most of them are dead. What makes you so sure it doesn't happen again?"

"I can assure you, it won't."

Right. That didn't sound good, but what they wanted from Claire sounded even worse. Noah wasn't just going to let his daughter become their puppet. "I don't know where Claire is," he said slowly but firmly to get the message across. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you or anyone else for that matter. Not if my life depended on it." For the first time in his life he didn't have a clue about his daughter's whereabouts and for the first time it didn't freak him out as much as it used to do.

"Are you sure about that, Noah?"

"Yes…" He didn't quite get why she doubted him. "I haven't seen her in over two months. She didn't want to talk to me then and I doubt she'll want to talk to me now. So, no. I don't know where she is and I don't know where she has been. I know my daughter better than anyone, Miss Collins. If you haven't found her by now, it means she doesn't want to be found." Abby's visit had suddenly taken a whole different turn. It went from asking about Noah's leg to demanding giving his daughter's location.

"Then help us find her."

"What did I just say?" Noah stood slowly and with a lot of effort, but managed to do it without help. As always. "I wouldn't tell you where she was if my life depended on it. That means I won't aid you in finding her either."

"Do you think we're giving you a choice? This country needs your daughter, Noah. She told the world something that should have stayed hidden. She made a mess and now it's her responsibility to clean it up. She can't just expect to let others do it for her." Abby stood as well and looked Noah dead in the eye. "You will help us find her."

"Who are you anyway, to come in here and talk about these people like you know them? You may be leading this operation, but you have no clue. I," Noah said, pointing at his own chest, "I have been working with them for almost twenty years. And yes, I have used them, hunted them, trained them and I even admit to taking the lives of some of them. But I also worked with them and let me tell you this: most of them are good people."

"And I'm not contradicting anything you say, Noah. Just take a look at Claire. I don't know her, but she looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly. What harm could she possibly do? It's not about what I think, though. People out there are scared. They are terrified of having their thoughts read or being killed by some serial killer, who doesn't even need a weapon to do so. And to be honest… I share their fear. I've seen with my own eyes how a man froze to death and then shattered into a thousand pieces."

"So, you're just gonna arrest them?" Noah asked with narrowed eyes, his voice thick with venom. "Give them a ticket? Throw them in jail? It's not their fault they were born with this... this power, no matter how dangerous, it's a part of them. How can you not see that?"

"I know the things you did for the Company, Noah. Some of what you did doesn't even come close to what we're trying to do here."

"Yes, but I know what I did was wrong. It took me a long time and a stubborn daughter to make me realize how wrong, but you cannot tell me that the mistakes the Government made will be made again. Please, not again. You said it yourself, the way the Company dealt with abilities is way better than what they did at Building 26. Have you changed your mind about that, already?"

"I never realized the magnitude of Claire's actions," Abby responded and that seemed to be the end of it.

Abby stood there, with her hands behind her back, expecting Noah to give his answer. But he had already given it. He looked down and felt the pressure of his gun against his back as his fingers clutched tight around his crutch. He wouldn't shoot Abby, not without good reason. But she was threatening him and he didn't like being threatened. Not by her, not by anyone. "I think you should go."

Abby nodded her head thoughtfully and walked toward the door. She wasn't finished, though. "We'll keep an eye on you, Noah. You'll be getting regular visits to check if you're not doing anything you're not supposed to be doing. As for your daughter…" she placed her hand on the doorknob, "we'll stay in contact and we'll let you know when we require your help."

Noah hopped in Abby's direction. "I told you, I-."

"We'll stay in contact," Abby repeated. Then opened the door and left without another word.

Noah gripped his hair tight with his free hand. "Shit," he muttered in frustration. Abby obviously thought she had a hold over him, but she had been clever enough not to elaborate on it. It left Noah wondering what that hold might be. It wasn't Claire. That much was obvious. It wasn't Lauren either. Lauren was perfectly capable of looking after herself and not letting herself be used like that. Besides, she would have told him if she had known. That left Sandra and Lyle, but what would they do to them if he didn't comply? Surely not hurt them… Or worse?

The thought gave him shivers all over his body and got him hopping into the kitchen, where he leaned on the counter wearily. He placed his gun next to the sink and sighed heavily. This was bad. This was really, really bad. For the first time since Claire jumped from the Ferris wheel, he began to seriously doubt that decision. He had even been stupid enough to make it worse by letting her go to that press conference.

They should have let Hiro go back in time to stop her. Peter may have said that everything would be fine and that nothing needed to be changed, but what just happened proved otherwise. He must have been mistaken, he must have seen something and interpreted it the wrong way. There was no other explanation.

Noah smiled grimly as he realized that they should have listened to Claire. Peter and Hiro shouldn't have gone to the future, they should have gone to the past instead.

It wasn't too late to do that, though. He hurried to the bedroom, which wasn't a very good idea given the circumstances, but he managed to keep himself from falling on the floor and found his phone hidden under his pillow. He searched in his contact list under the 'N' and found the number he was looking for. Without hesitating he pressed 'call' and held the device to his ear.

A woman answered and introduced herself in Japanese as Nakamura Kimiko.

Next Chapter: Revolt