Chapter 7: Validation

Claire took a last look at herself in the rear view mirror, a small, but pleased smile playing on her lips. So far in her life she'd never managed a tan before. Perhaps her special ability had always streamed out the effect of the harmful rays of the sun, but over the last week she'd persevered with it that much she'd finally acquired that healthy cream color. The college student liked her new appearance and wondered for a moment whether Sylar'll notice and comment on it positively, like many times earlier. If he was at all anywhere near conscious, that is, she frowned.

On arrival, she was told to report to her father's office, where Noah greeted her with a warm embrace, leaning the side of his face onto the top of her head. It was good to have her away from it all, but it was even better to have her back. "How was your holiday?"

"Holidaylike. Boring. How is it going around here?"

"Companylike."

"Well, at least I'm relaxed, recharged and ready for work," she said more cheerily than it was possible to believe or anybody would in that place and sat down on the chair opposite her father's desk.

Noah walked slowly over to the other side, "you are not on duty tonight."

"What? But I was told to come here...no need for my services, huh? The new dose made sure that every prisoner is well and truly sedated and guards are no longer necessary!" She tried to crack a joke.

"No, Claire-bear. Angela doesn't need you to do your normal checking round because Sylar's not here anymore."

"Wha...?!? Where is he?"

"United States Penitentiary Hospital, Polunsky Highest Security Unit, Livingston, Texas."

"But...but..." Claire was thinking with her mouth open till she decided she was sure how she felt about what she'd just heard, "I don't understand," was her conclusion.

Noah, of course misunderstood her concern. "Don't worry, Claire-bear. The transfer ambulance was organized and handled by Peter and it has been established with prison personnel that under no circumstances would they lower his inhibiting formula doze without a direct order from me or Angela Petrelli."

"What is Sylar doing in a hospital?" Claire had finally found her voice.

"You know how the formula works and the possible side effects with him. According to Mohinder, Sylar'd developed peritonitis following diverticulitis. He'd died on us three times in five days and every time we had to let off with the drugs to allow him to heal. It was decided that it wasn't safe to put us into a situation where he could regain his strength and turn on us. In the hospital they can keep him in a certain condition, on life support if necessary and make sure he doesn't die and makes the whole carry on necessary all over again. You know, we can't really do anything while the president is so keen on campaigning for abolishing the death row completely all over the country. Mohinder's just back from Livingston and assured me that everything's under control."

"You really don't want our own surveillance teams on him?"

"Oh, yes, we do. Two of our people are there at any time and Angela requested it should be you next to do your little check up, just to be sure. I've got your train tickets, or you can drive if you wish?"

Claire looked at the printed paper her father had given to her. The train was leaving in less than half an hour.

Tbc