Chapter 17: Nurture

"Dad!!?!" Claire shrieked, trying to push Sylar off herself, "what are you doing here!"

"Trying to protect you," Noah narrowed his eyes, having regained his composure somewhat. He took his horn rimmed glasses off to polish them, still not believing his eyes, his hazy vision avoiding the embarrassing naked forms in front of him and giving them enough time to grab the necessary clothing items. Thankfully without his spectacles he won't be able to see much. "I have no idea what is going on here, Claire, but at this moment it doesn't really matter. I have twenty four agents out there waiting on my prompt to come in, none of whom I'd like to witness my daughter being indecent, nor in a compromised position. I'd like you to come over here next to me and let me do my job."

The lovers paused, silent for a moment, then exchanged a brief look. Sylar decided it was best to retreat onto the couch behind Claire and assume the vulnerable persona the young woman was hell bent on providing justice for. This way, he could concentrate on using his special hearing too, finding out exactly what all the two dozen agents outside were up to and what they possessed as forms of weapon.

Claire shook her head sadly, "it has been a long time ago that you could control me, remember, Dad? Anyways, I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions. And that is holding no affiliation with an association that approves the torture of prisoners."

"How about, hi Dad, it's nice to see you, how have you been?"

"It is nice to see you," Claire said quietly, "how's Lyle? And mum?"

"Spending every night worrying about you, wondering if you were dead, if Sylar's gonna go get them too. And they don't even let me be with them to protect them."

Claire raised her eyebrows, "not as if you would *be* there, if you were allowed to be there if you know what I mean..."

"It's been hell without you there, Claire bear. You know I'd and I'll do everything I need to do to protect my family. I found out about these dangerous abilities some people have thirty years ago and ever since then I worked on keeping everyone safe, not just my own family. Sylar belongs to a cell and you know that."

"You have not considered any of those locked up prisoners human beings, have you?"

"You can't trust them."

"What about me, dad? Am I human to you?"

"You are my daughter."

"Your daughter, but not human, right?" She was fishing in her pocket for her cell phone.

"Don't make this a game, Claire. I love you. I'll always be there for you, no matter what, but sometimes we have to do bad things in the benefit of a greater good."

"And how is that any better than killing on the basis of the evolutionary principle of survival of the fittest?" She turned away from her father. The rift between them was there as it was expected, and she could stop arguing with him for the same reason it never occurred to her to tell her father when she was planing on rescuing the killer from the hands of the company. He would have never approved, understood, or agreed to disagree even. "Sylar. How are you feeling? Do you think we can take the whole SWAT team on?" She asked her lover conversationally, trying to hide the fact that she was in the middle of punching in a message on her phone inside her pocket that she would send to Rebel. She could not see the letters, nor the address book, but she was hoping that the mambo jumbo that she was probably writing would not just get to the brains of the rebellion movement, but he could also make sense of it.

"Oh, sure, bring it on, Noah," Sylar also replied lightheartedly and took Claire's free hand to stand by her. His thumb pressed into her palm and she felt it tickling her skin. By the shape and manner of the disturbance, he was writing something on her hand using his imprinting ability.

Her father looked at them with a great amount of desperation. "You haven't even thought about safe sex!" He retrieved his gun and raised his walkie talkie to signal the waiting team outside.

It was Sylar's turn to look down at his now trousered middle somewhat discomfited. Not as if he had anything to be embarrassed about as far as his intimate parts were concerned, but just how much did the old SOB see? However, his embarrassment didn't stop him from retorting back, "the birds and bees talk's a little overdue, don't you think?"

Claire was too busy reading his message on her palm to answer. "Have to make it to Rebel and co. upstairs," it read.

Noah disregarded him. "Claire bear. Are you with me?" His face was hoping.

"I wish, dad..." She ambled backwards, towards the stairs, like Sylar. She did not like having to confront her father in this manner, but he gave her no choice.

Knowing that they were coming was a great advantage on their side. Soldiers jumped in from all sides, the windows, the door, from the top and there were gun barrels peeking out at foot level. Many of the attackers however, arrived without their weapons, twisted out their hands by an invisible, telekinetic force before they could be of any use.

Claire found herself back to back with her former captive and with rifles in both her hands, freshly flown there by the same force. She put them to use without delay, doubling up Sylar's electric shocks with her defensive shots. Withal, some projectiles hit both of them before the killer could direct his attention towards stopping the bullets, or whatever the little stings that reached her body were. She had no time checking what she was shot with either as her lover cleared out the way and they were meant to be heading to the previously agreed location in the house.

The serial killer contemplated using his sonic blast and momentarily incapacitate everyone, but seemingly four machine guns joined in from upstairs, noticeably on their side. Sylar wasn't even sure they needed reinforcements. He had one tranq dart in his side and one anti formula shot in his leg. Still, a lot less than it would incapacitate him. He was in his element, enjoying a little action and demonstrating how he could be in control to all involved. After weeks of doing nothing and pretending to be ill, it was a well earned breather. Tones of pure joy flashed in his eyes that Claire had no chance to note. She was flying through the air herself, pulled on by invisible strings and behind the ally lines of LAWR to safety, the group of people brought back by Rachel Mills after her ordeal in fear that Sylar was out of control and Claire could be in danger. Ironically, they arrived to the killer's help against their utmost, common enemy, the company.

Sylar joined them, seconds later, covered in blood that nobody doubted wasn't his. Surrounded by her resistance member mates and the two lovers close by, so that they could all touch each other, Rachel concentrated to teleport the most number of people away she ever did at the same time.

Agents left behind fired into the empty space the vanishing group left, then at stared their weapons in amazement. Everything from knives to the last taser had been turned into gold out of all things, as Sylar's last joke before he reappeared at Ellen's headquarters along with the rest of the distance travelers.

Tbc