A/N: For those that missed it, I reposted chapter 49 because it was missing a few paragraphs. This one looks complete though…lol. Thanks to all of you who are still following the story! I know it is moving slowly but I really am trying to tie up all the loose ends. Cheers!

Chapter 50- Sympathy for the Devil

Dr. McCoy went to great lengths to ensure both of his patients were sufficiently sedated for as long as it took for their respective healing abilities to right the extensive damage they had undergone. He couldn't believe his ears when Scotty explained to him exactly what the hell happened to cause such damage and in reality he was utterly mystified as to why Sylar of all people would volunteer for such a duty. He kept his suspicions to himself, but he just knew that deep down he was a different man than he generally let on- so he was right to think that under all of that brooding and apparent evil lie something decisively honorable. Why did it seem like he was the only one who could see it?!

Nathan paced slowly and methodically by Peter's bed like a rabid dog ready to spring on the next unfortunate person that happened by. McCoy noted his agitation and debated whether or not he should make himself a target since he could certainly get as well as he could give and he would for sure put Nathan back on a stretcher if he snapped at any of his staff. There were just some things Bones wouldn't tolerate in his sickbay and abuse of his staff by anyone else but him was one of them. He finally decided to take the middle road and pretend to check the monitors above Peter's bed and see if Nathan would take the bait so he could deescalate the situation before it came to blows. This was a truly magnanimous gesture coming from the normally sour doctor because Nathan had been glaring viciously at him ever since he treated Sylar before Peter- but he was dammed if he was going to apologize for that- Peter was right after all.

"How is he, Doc?" Nathan asked in a surprisingly neutral tone, although it was clear he really didn't need a status report- he had two eyes and could clearly see that his brother was improving slowly but steadily.

"It will probably take a little while, even for him." McCoy squinted. "It's a miracle we're even having this conversation. By all rights he should be dead."

"He might have been." Nathan snarled. "I don't care what he says, he was in no condition to make medical decisions on his own. You should have ignored his wishes and treated him anyway. Hell, I could have given the green light as his next of kin!"

"You could have," McCoy ground out, "but it wasn't necessary. I understand it's probably hard for you to see him like this, but there are rules to running this sickbay and Sylar was the more serious of the two- therefore he gets treatment first."

Nathan's eyes flashed with barely controlled rage. "That man," he hissed jabbing a finger in Sylar's direction, "is a lunatic! He can go to hell for all I care. Wait until he kills or harms someone you love then come back and tell me about your precious rules."

"He was going to kill me." McCoy drawled in a low growl, "He had me strung up on a wall like a fish he was planning on gutting, but you know what? I'm still his doctor and he is still my patient no matter what I personally think of him. Be thankful for that because I think you are an insufferable ass, but I didn't hesitate to see to you when your brains were all scrambled up there." He scowled hard at Nathan, almost daring him to go on and wisely he didn't. "And I'll tell you something else." He continued. This had always been his problem and the primary reason he and his wife were no longer together: when he decided to give someone a piece of his mind, it never came in small servings. "You can't tell me that you are such an ingrate that you can't see that what they both did saved everyone on this ship. That's almost 420 lives, mister. Now tell me you would have had the balls to stand down there and fry yourself to a crisp knowing damn well that not one person was going to thank you for it, cause that's exactly what he did and you can't even bring yourself to give the man some peace. He might have been a bastard in the past, but he was a hero today and the here and now is the only thing that ever matters. I'm not saying you have to go over there and kiss his crispy ass, but how about showing a little respect for the man who saved your miserable life?"

Matt was so impressed he began clapping with a huge smile on his face. Not so much because he agreed with Dr. McCoy, but he absolutely loved watching someone rip Nathan a new one. He had never before seen it, would have liked to have done it himself on several occasions, but was glad he witnessed someone finally step up and read him the riot act…and apparently get away with it, at least for the time being.

Mohinder and Claire moved away from Spock and stood by Sylar's bed, looking down at the man they had hated for so long that they had been blinded by it. He too was slowly healing and the beginnings of familiar facial features were starting to form- his full lips and the start of his thick yet meticulously maintained eyebrows. A new patch of skin connected the tender covering of his eyelids across the bridge of his nose and Claire hesitantly reached out to lightly run her finger across it- drawn by some strange compulsion to touch the boogeyman's face while he was still harmless perhaps just to prove to herself that he was indeed human and not some soulless demon spawn from hell. She half expected him to bite her finger, but he remained still- completely unaware of her presence, the shallow rise and fall of his chest along with the quiet blip of his heartbeat on the monitor the only indication that he was still alive. "It's so soft." She mumbled as though she expected something different.

"Well, it is new skin." Mohinder replied a bit uncomfortably. "Something like a newborn I would imagine." He frowned as he contemplated the entire process. "You know, being new, I imagine it will feel rather tight at first and very sensitive until the outer layers have time to desensitize. With the dermal layer being so thin I would also think that much like an infant he will have difficulty regulating his body temperature as well."

"Are you going to wrap him up in a blanket and bottle feed him?" Nathan howled from across the room. "If anyone cares, Pete is having the same problem over here."

"Of course we care." Claire stated as she leveled eyes with her father. "But it looks like you have things well under control. I think I might best be of help over here."

"Claire," Nathan scoffed, "you can't be serious. You of all people…"

"Hate him as much as everyone else." She finished with a nod of the head. "But Dr. McCoy was right. Today he saved my life and no one is here for him the one time he needs it- the one time that he really needs someone to show some compassion. I guess today that person will have to be me. Yes, I hate him for what he did to me, but today I will be here so he has someone to wake up to so he isn't alone."

Although under normal circumstances Noah would have forbid her from such an insane chore, his heart swelled at what a conscientious, generous young woman she had grown up to become. She was willing to put aside her own feelings for Sylar for the greater good and he couldn't have been more proud of her. True, his own personal distaste for the killer put him firmly in the same camp with Nathan regarding his unworthiness of her kindness, but from what he knew of Gabriel Gray the man, this was maybe the one thing that he never had- and partly the reason for what he had become. Maybe…just maybe if someone would have shown him some genuine kindness and taken a healthy interest in the young man's life he may have turned out differently. And just maybe if she stuck with him, her act of generosity may have some impact on him for the better. At any rate, Noah left her to her grand experiment in part because he knew that Sylar would not try to harm her when he woke up. He couldn't imagine someone feeling up to no good the moment they opened their eyes after essentially being at the core of a nuclear reactor, but one never could tell with Sylar.

Up on the bridge, Jim stood shoulder to shoulder with Sulu looking at the array of Romulan ships that seemed to stretch to infinity and beyond. How things could go to hell so quickly was beyond him. He was gone 15 minutes tops and they were well on their way to hell in a hand basket with no superhumans to power the ship this time. Although he was trying his best to hide it, Chekov was clutching his ribs and stifling a nasty cough every now and again, but it didn't escape Jim's attention. Spock was probably well enough to be called back to duty and he couldn't think of a better time for his analytical skills than then. No matter what Spock could contribute, it all amounted to the Maru on steroids and even Jim the Miraculous couldn't see a way out of this one. He had never surrendered in his life- for anything. No matter the odds, he always came out swinging, but he had the lives of his crew to think about and for the first time ever, he prepared to give Uhura the order to surrender. It was a complete crap shoot that would almost certainly end in the deaths of at least himself and Spock, but knowing the Romulans they would slaughter most of the crew and the Klingons- taking a select few back as slaves. At least a few would survive, he thought grimly. Not many, and their lives would be brutally short, but to stand and fight would doom them all. Sometimes, there simply was no win-win and he had to choose between the lesser of two evils.

"This is bad." Ando whispered to Hiro. "Very very bad."

"It is." Hiro agreed typically stoic. "But the path of the hero is never easy. There are great obstacles that must be overcome."

"How do you overcome that?!" He asked gesturing the screen.

"We run." Hiro quietly replied.

"Do we just hope they run out of gas?" Ando asked half laughing. "Besides, I don't think we have any gas to run with!"

"Ando," Hiro turned to his friend with a dead serious expression on his face, "all this time, haven't you wanted to do something more than to run errands or watch numbers on a screen? Peter and Sylar have got us this far, now we must be the heroes and do our part."

"What are you talking about?" Ando asked in awe. "How?"

"Sometimes heroes work together to defeat the enemy. I am too weak to teleport the ship on my own, but you can use your power to help. Together we can move the people to safety." Ando's eyes lit up and a wide smile cut across his face. Yes, in fact he had always wanted to be the hero- and not just Robin to Hiro's Batman either- he wanted to be an equal partner and his unique ability would help save the day. The Crimson Arc would have his day after all! The two approached Chekov at his station and quietly inquired about a safe place to jump to.

Jim noticed the odd gathering and cleared his throat. "What's going on down there? Care to let me in on it? Cause hey, you know, I'm just the Captain here."

Hiro stood up straight and bowed. "Sorry, Mr. Jim. I mean no dishonor. I think we can help."

"None taken." Jim smiled. He would never get used to the bowing thing and asking him to stop probably wouldn't be effective anyway. He couldn't seem to comply with just calling him Jim without putting a proper title in front of it. "I'd love to hear any ideas you got."

"We can teleport the ship to a safe place away from the bad men." Hiro stated pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I just need to know where to go."

"Wait," Jim shook his head, "you are going to take the whole ship? Does Bones know about this? Cause I think I remember him specifically saying your head will explode or something like that."

"No, not explode." Hiro replied although he did remember there being some bad connotation to the doctor's warning. "But even so, I die with honor if it saves many lives. Ando will help me. Togeher we will help."

Jim put his hands on his hips and sighed. Some days it just didn't pay to be a starship captain. The alternative Hiro proposed was still not a win-win if he was going to suffer irreparable harm in the process, but at least it was better than his own plan and although he knew he would face the wrath of McCoy, he agreed. "Alright. Chekov, give them what they need to get us out of here."

"Aye, Captain." Chekov half spoke, half coughed as he pointed to a star system on his charts while Ando's hand began to glow a soft pink and a sick feeling churned in Jim's stomach.