Chapter 23: Association

Noah Bennett was sitting in an armchair in his living room, frowning. Surely he had said to Claire many times over that she could count on him, that he would do anything for her and his grandson. Not in his wildest dreams would he have thought that his daughter would actually cash in on his promise and expect him to honor her every demand after showing up in front of his door in the very early hours of the morning, obviously pregnant, carrying a sleeping Noah on her shoulder and with a dangerous serial killer in tow, doing nothing other, than throwing up violently on his porch into the flowerpots!

Resting his palm on his taser at the other side of his trousers inside his pocket, the company man would not take his eyes off the supposedly ailing criminal perched across his very own sofa, looking half asleep and hardly able to move a limb. He had been staring at his uninvited visitor for what was now hours, leaving the babysitting of and the playing with Noah Jr. to a very willing and delighted Sandra and Lyle instead. Noah still could not believe it, but Claire had asked her adoptive family to hide her son's existence and Sylar in their house as that would be the last place anybody would look for her father's arch enemy, while she went back to the where she once worked to allegedly talk to Mohinder. Noah had absolutely no idea what his daughter thought such a conversation would be good for, but he did say after all that Claire should come to him if she was in trouble. So for the moment, he did as he was asked, that is, until Sandra and Lyle came down the stairs.

"Problem, dad," Lyle announced.

"I think I might have spooked Noah," Sandra said pained, "I only wanted to cuddle him, but that must've been the wrong way to go about it when he wanted his mommy."

"He was fine when we played the dinosaurs and airplanes game," Lyle intercepted.

"It's understandable that he got scared," Sandra explained, "he wakes up in a strange house, with unknown people that claim to be his grandparents who love him. But at this moment in time I have no clues as to how to coax him to show himself to us. The doors and windows are shut, but I'm still worried he might do something dangerous while we can't see him."

"Did he turn invisible?" Noah rubbed his own knees nervously.

"Yes, yes!" Sandra threw her hands up in the air, "and I want you to stop staring at that unconscious individual and come and help us persuade Noah to let us know he is safe!"

The confounded grandfather stood up, undecided. Not as if he was good with toddlers or was certain Sylar was comatose. As if on cue, the killer turned on his back from his side and lazily opened his eyes to blink into his, right in his view, "in can hear Noah in the bathroom closet," he said quietly, "I don't think he would go against what he was taught to do and show himself to anyone if he feels there's something wrong. But tell him daddy's here downstairs. He doesn't know that does he?"

"You should go, Lyle," Sandra suggested, "he was more comfortable with you," she sat down waiting for developments while pressing her knuckles together nervously. As she saw it, it was their once chance to reconcile with Claire and have her back into their lives. They couldn't mess this up. The uncomfortable silence lifted when the air started to glint on a trajectory towards the couch, followed by quick footsteps as little Noah ran down to be taken into the arms of his father.

"I love you, daddy," the boy nuzzled in, then looked up at Sylar seriously, "are you all right today, daddy?"

"A bit better."

"Can I stay with you?"

"Yes, but remember the rules?"

The child nodded, "if there's trouble, don't show yourself to anyone, but mommy. Not even dad."

"That's right, Noah. And you still need to practice that shallow breathing, cause I can hear you from a mile this way." He cursed to himself. He hated that drug, but apparently the effects were starting to wear off again as he wasn't feeling that uncomfortable either.

"Draw me a kite," the boy disregarded his advice and looked at him expectantly.

Sylar rubbed his temples and sat up. Perhaps demanding from his son all the time that he practiced hiding from him was a little too harsh on the child. "Anybody's got a pad and a pen?"

It was the company man who fished in his pockets for the items and handed them over, rather dazzled by the little conversation and display of emotions between father and son where it seemed as if Sylar was trying to train the boy how to escape him. When he handed the notebook over, his eyes met his once partner's again, who was technically his son in law, and the killer took the opportunity to file another request. "I need my tablets. They are in my coat pocket. I'm sure, you'd be well delighted to hand them over?" He did feel vulnerable in the house, especially without his powers, but for Claire's sake, he was sure nobody would touch him.

The agent gave him a hard, but searching look and indeed, felt no mental obstacles that could have stopped him from honoring the request. Sylar felt the need to annoy his father in law a little further by asking him for a glass of water to drink down the pills with, but the spectacled man was distracted by having to answer a call coming on his mobile phone.

"You're needed here," Angela said without any to and fro, "we have contained Claire."

"I'm sure some terms can be negotiated to get..." Noah started. It was what he'd been doing for two decades now. Keep his daughter away from being regarded as an ordinary evolved human that were either treated like guinea pigs or numbers.

"I'm sure you don't understand, Noah," Angela snapped, "in fact you have not the faintest. Claire had displayed at least five abilities at the same time and she killed two soldiers using telekinesis. She says it was self defense. We have to find out how she'd acquired these abilities, what and how many, and what threat does she pose."

"Wait, wait!" Noah willed himself to footstep his surprise at what he was told, "don't do anything till I get there."

"Hurry," Angela ended the conversation monosyllabiccally. It didn't sound like a promise.

Noah faced the occupants of the room. His son and his wife of course could not hear what has been said at the other side of the line, they didn't even bother with as much as sending him disapproving looks at the news he was finding his work more important than his grandchild. Sylar however, was standing on shaky legs. He had tucked the drugs back into his pocket without taking any. He needed his strength and abilities back, fast.

Tbc