"No, you— you don't need to protect me," Claire tried to explain, even as the both of them hurried down the hall, Claire reaching out with her hand until she found Coraline's. There was something comforting about having someone's hand to hold close, and it made even the burden of knowing that she would have to protect someone and throw all caution about what she was to the wind easier to bear. Gradually, however, the endless hall of lockers grew more intimidating. Prospects felt grim. "Sylar can't hurt me in the way that he can hurt other people, it's— it's hard to explain. But he can do things that you've never imagined. So you need to hide, and I can keep him busy, and—"

She breathed, looking over her shoulder, seeing shadows stretch along the linoleum floors.

"I won't let that thing pretending to be your mom hurt you. I—" Claire bit her lower lip, before deciding that there probably wasn't much use to hiding anymore. "I don't know why, I don't know how it started, but I can heal, Coraline. Whenever I get hurt, it heals right away. So you don't need to worry about me."