Elle Bishop (ellectricity) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-04-18 16:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | elle bishop, peter petrelli (future) |
Who: Elle and Future!Peter
When: Backdated to Tuesday.
Where: Outside the Hyperion
Rating: R.
Status: Complete
Peter didn't think much of the Hyperion as he viewed it from outside. It was tall, and grand, but had the feel of something broken, battered, and run-down. It didn't look terribly inviting. Though, he had to admit, it was exactly the type of place he and Hiro would have been on the lookout for while they were still moving in the Underground. It seemed useless, but to the right set of eyes, it was durable, roomy, and, most importantly, empty.
He and Claire had loitered near the entrance for a while, watching the doors, but when there had been no signs of movement in or out for some time, Claire had wanted to go inside. Peter's recent claustrophobic-inducing incident had left him with a rather strong desire to keep the open sky firmly fixed over his head, and, thankfully, she hadn't protested his reasoning.
So he waited outdoors, tilting his face up into the rain as he leaned against the hotel's outer wall, quietly relishing the freedom of the open air.
Elle had to get out. She knew she couldn't go far but she simply could not sit there anymore, she had to at least be outside or something. She stepped out of the Hyperion and spotted Peter. She knew it wasn't her Peter. She could tell by the scar, her Peter did not have that. She didn't know what he was doing here, but maybe he wanted to help with everything that was going on. Obviously, he didn't want to go in, she could tell.
"Hey..." She said, amazingly calmly. She'd died and all, sort of mellowed a girl out a little.
His head turned at the sound of her voice, and Peter looked at her, his eyes bland and expressionless. If anything, he looked a bit bored. But he scrutinized her features, turning to his memory for a clue. His memory was perfect, had been for years, but her face gave him nothing but a suggestion of familiarity. "I've seen you before," he said, in a voice as deadpan as the rest of his expression.
He couldn't remember a name, though. His eyes looked vaguely confused before he tamed the emotion, forcing it out of sight. "Haven't I?" Was that in this world, or his own? He hadn't seen many here, true, but it wouldn't have taken more than a glance for her face to be imprinted in his mind.
"We've spoken." Elle told him. She didn't think he liked her too much, but then again, he didn't know her. No one really knew Elle. She didn't exactly make it easy, did she? "Is there something you need here?" She asked him. He hadn't gone in and he didn't look like he really planned to.
She didn't mean to be so cold, but she was still weak and everything. She was going a little mad being cooped up in the hotel though. "I just needed some air, it's been rough around here."
"But not face-to-face," he added to her statement, assuming it from her tone. There was a rather short list of people he'd met spoken with here whom he could have possibly seen elsewhere. "Elle," he said, picking the sole female name from that list. "You're Elle."
His expression softened slightly, a flicker of concern now entering his eyes as he looked her over. She looked tired, a bit drained. She seemed a bit pale, gaunt, and thin. "You look like you survived the poison," he commented. The words were flat, but the tone held the slightest flicker of softness. "Was there an antidote?"
Peter could ignore her guarded inquiry for a moment. At least long enough to make sure she wasn't about to collapse. She wasn't quite the picture of health right now.
"Yes." She confirmed. "I'm Elle." She told him. She already knew who he was, obviously. She was dating the other Peter and all. This Peter was so different from hers though, it was really strange to see this one. "Look like you've been having a pretty rough time yourself."
She shrugged. "No, I died." She told him. "Claire brought me back..I'm getting better."
The guarded look flared up again for a moment, and Peter turned his gaze away when she mentioned how he looked. She was right, of course, but he wasn't used to someone being able to read him, to know his expressions and his physical condition just from a look. "I've had better weeks," was his reply.
When she mentioned dying, however, his gaze snapped back to her, and his lips moved in a silent swear. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes trailing away from her face, down to the ground at her feet. "I wanted to help you, but... I was detained." Not wanting the conversation to linger there, he glanced towards the door of the hotel, wondering if Claire would return to rescue him from the awkwardness of this conversation. "Is the poison still affecting you, or is it just the effects of ressurrection now?" One hand flickered and twitched, safely hidden away in a pocket of his coat. Some part of him still always longed to heal, to keep that dream of helping others alive somehow. If her weakness was simply that, he might be able to restore some energy to her. If she was willing. It wasn't a side of himself he was normally willing to show, but...
Hells bells. In some reality, he was dating her, wasn't he? In some reality, he considered her worth it.
"I noticed." She told him, when he said he'd had better weeks. She could relate. She just wanted to be better again, she couldn't even use her powers right now. That sucked, Elle loved her powers. They could really use them right now.
"It's okay." She said, he didn't need to help her, or feel guilty about it. "I don't know what it is that is still affecting me." But she hated it. She hated being so weak and helpless. A lot of them were feeling pretty helpless right now. "I shouldn't even really be outside but I was getting some severe cabin fever."
The scar across his face twisted oddly as a smirk appeared on Peter's lips. "Yeah," he muttered, I guess you can relate, huh?" They both knew what it was like to die that week. It wasn't a very positive basis for a connection, but it was still a connection.
He pushed away from the building, motion carrying his feet closer to her, and one hand slid out of his pocket. The rain was still coming down, but it was steady enough by now that it was no more than background. The force field he used was keeping him mostly dry, but right now, he brushed it off, not wanting the shield of energy to upset any of the ability he was about to use.
"Give me your hand." That tone sounded ancient to his ears, but to her it might have sound familiar and comforting. It was a soothing, warm voice that this Peter hadn't used in years. "Let me help you, Elle."
He wanted to help her. He was surprised by his own sincerity. It was as though he needed to know the capacity for it was still there. That something in him could still be... that he could still be needed. Still be helpful.
Maybe... still be a hero?
Elle nodded. She didn't really like dying, it pretty much sucked. Confessing her love for Peter right before she died had not exactly been the greatest thing she'd ever done either.
She gave him a confused look. He thought he could help her? Oh right, of course he could... he was Peter Petrelli, maybe not hers but he was a Peter Petrelli which meant that he had all kinds of nifty powers.
"Okay..." she said after a minute, giving him her hand. It was worth a try, right?
His thumb slid over her knuckles as she took his hand. It seemed like a comforting enough gesture. Insomuch as he was capable of comfort right now. Part of him still felt broken, wounded by that painful loss to the witch. He hoped and prayed that there was someone Above to just let this work.
A moment later, he realized that might have been hypocritical, and merely hoped that there was someone to help this work.
Closing his eyes, Peter sorted through his sizable index of abilities. He brushed through them, searching lightly for something he could use. In five years, he had gained many. He came upon the healing abilities, first selecting one that worked as an energy transfer, taking strength from his own body, and turning it into healing energy as it moved into hers.
She managed a weak smile at his comforting gesture. She appreciated that he was trying to help her, but she hadn't really been herself in awhile. And she knew that Veronica Mars had made an effort of trying to convince this Peter that she was crazy. The girl wasn't wrong, but it was not Elle's fault that she was the way she was. So many horrible things had happened to her when she was a kid. Stuff that she conveniently didn't remember.
She took in a breath, waiting to see if this would work. She hoped it did, because she would really like to get back to her bad ass self again. And she wanted to be able to actually help Peter and his friends.
His hand glowed lightly, as energy was drained from him, leaving the hand it departed from cold, while entering hers with warmth. He felt drained, but didn't sag - he wouldn't show any weakness. That had been long ingrained into him. Besides, his own energy would return quickly enough.
She didn't feel that different yet, maybe it was gradual. Maybe there was some color returning to her, well, as much color as she ever had anyway. She didn't feel too great yet though, but that didn't mean it hadn't worked necessarily. Even if it didn't, at least he'd tried. "Why are you trying to help me?" She asked him. He thought she was a psycho didn't he?
"Do I need a reason?" He tried another ability, the one he'd procured from his father's old business partner, a Daniel Linderman. Nathan's partner, during the elections. The corrupted, criminal, malevolent man had been a healer. Peter settled his hands on the back of her hands, and pushed that healing, raw healing power, up her arms, seeking out the source of the weakness. That man had become a mockery of what his gift was. Now Peter could use the healing to set things right, by a healer.
"I guess not." Elle said. She just wasn't used to people wanting to help her or believing in her. It was strange to feel like she belonged somewhere. Before she'd only been part of the Company, but that hadn't been where she belonged. She was little more than a tool to her father, and she wasn't quite used to being something else to someone. She could feel something moving through her, it was a strange sensation. Did that mean that it was working? She...felt a little better, or at least no longer like a strong wind might knock her over.
That one seemed to have an effect. Peter held on, pushing more of the energy into her. He could feel it searching for a cause to contain and weaken. He had to find a way, some method that would soothe her.
"Then be quiet and accept it." Linderman's ability was an aggressive healer. It sought out ways to heal on its own, with little prompting from him. But Peter's old nursing skills helped to focus that raw energy and seek out causes to ailments.
Elle could feel it starting to work. She felt stronger, maybe not 100% percent but not like she was knocking at death's door either. He was helping her, and she was feeling better. It felt a little strange though, she hadn't felt anything like it before. "Thanks." She said, quietly. She wasn't sure why he was helping her, but she was not about to complain about it.
Peter nodded, almost imperceptibly, frowning a bit as he could sense something under the healing. Something darker, malignant. Was it the toxin?
He didn't let up on the healing, but tapped into another ability. This one was akin to an empathic transfer - it would tap into that dark, malignant force and absorb it into himself, replacing it with fresh, strong energy of his own. Whatever that darkness was, it was resistant, but not immune.
Elle felt very strange, but more energized than she had in a long time. It was definitely working, but would it last? She had to hope that it would. Hope was something that was foreign to a girl like her. She'd spent so long being like a trained animal, a tool to her father. Her views of right and wrong were so screwed up. She was a sociopath, but she was also a person with feelings, Peter, her Peter was helping her to realize that. And of course, this Peter was not bad either.
She just wasn't used to people wanting to help her, or caring about her well being. Bob had no even seemed to care much when she was shot. He still expected her to be able to best Claire and all that. Here, it was different. She was more of a hero than a villain, well...maybe anti-hero was a better term. She was being shown that people did care. It started with Peter, but then she'd saved Claire's life, and now she was opened up to all sorts of feelings that she didn't think she was capable of. These feelings both thrilled and scared her. Once you started to feel for someone, it wasn't so easy to face the possibility that you might lose them.
Elle had reformed a great deal since she'd come here, and that was thanks in large part to Peter. For the first time in her 24 years, she felt like she was a part of something real and good, and that maybe, just maybe they could make a difference in the world.
Alternately, Peter was feeling the effects of the poison he'd just drained away from Elle. It sloshed into his veins, and his hold on her tensed as he felt the venom. Peter gritted his teeth and shoved it away, pushing it for the moment into his left hand, letting that one go limp with the poison so he could finish what he was doing.
Her body would recover, and more swiftly now for the effort he had made. But before Peter could withdraw completely, his healing power found something else. Dark patches in her mind. It was an effect he'd seen before, results of the Haitian's mental manipulations. It was as much confirmation as anything else that she was from his world. Or some version of it.
His hand shifted, releasing hers, and moved to her forehead. The thumb and middle finger of his right hand rested against her temples, and Peter shut his eyes again, letting the healing energy flow from his fingertips. Gently, carefully, it brushed against those dark patches, pushing away the bruises that were covering memories. Old, old memories. As one cleared, Peter's own mind brushed against it, and he flinched at what it showed.
It was Elle as a child, a normal happy little child. Pigtails. Little unicorns and rainbows, what every little girl dreamed about. And then the memories started to shift into something darker, something horrible. No longer was there a happy child, but a miserable little girl being experimented on until she passed out, and pushed even further than that.
Bob was laughing and saying how his little girl was stronger than that, even though everyone else felt bad for her and wanted to call it quits. There was lots more passing out and nosebleeds and blackouts, and it was like something inside the girl had just been broken.
Elle gasped at the memories and stepped back, it was one thing for Noah Bennet to tell her what happened, and another to know for sure about what happened to her when she was a child. She could have been normal...and not like she was now. And her father had led the charge to her breakdown and current mental state. He didn't even care. She was nothing but a tool to him.
Peter's hand was pulled away as Elle stepped back, and he opened his eyes, head spinning lightly from the backlash of power when she'd moved away. He blinked a few times, letting his vision clear, and glanced over at her. there didn't seem to be a need to say anything. They'd both seen the memories. He wasn't emotionally attached to them, but the sight had stung. He remembered others being experimented on, other people seen as 'special' by the Company. And later, by Homeland Security.
But there her been a shock of emotion stemming from her. Surprise and horror. Emotional pain. Betrayal. He'd felt them in the instant she'd broken the connection. The kind of betrayal that came from family. From that ultimate trust.
The world was a cold and bitter place once that shock settled in. He didn't know her, but at the same time, he didn't feel that anyone deserved to face that kind of pain alone. Peter moved closer, lifted his arms. The left didn't respond, still holding the bulk of the poison his body was slowly healing past, so it was only his right arm that briefly gripped her shoulder, before another step brought her into his reach, and the right arm slid around her shoulders.
Elle didn't know what to say. She was flooded with images that her father had made the Haitian remove from her mind. Peter really was powerful if he could bring those back. And now that she knew about them, she didn't know where she stood. She was still dangerous because of her ability, but if she'd had a more normal childhood...she might have turned out differently. She might have ended up being a better person, which was what she was trying to do here.
She barely registered that Peter was trying to comfort her at first. She was feeling so many things now, shock and terror at realizing for sure about what had happened to her, it was hard to deal with. When she realized what he was trying to do, she shook her head a little.
"I..I'm okay." She told him. She was still a little in shock, but she'd survive.
Peter nodded and stepped back, lowering his arm. He watched her for a moment, to make sure she was telling the truth, then grimaced when a flicker of pain from his hand reminded him that he wasn't exactly 100% himself at the moment. Peter moved his attention from her, giving her some limited privacy, and concentrated his power inward.
Years of experience with his telekinesis had given him vast amounts of control. He could tell the difference between the poison and his own blood. Peter drew a finger across his palm, slicing into the skin. He held the wound open with telekinesis, and pushed the foreign substance out of his veins. With a bit of blood, the black ooze dribbled out of his wound, onto his hand, only to be washed away by the rain. When the numbness cleared, he let the wound heal, and flexed his hand. After a moment of sluggish response, his fingers straightened and flexed normally.
Elle felt a lot better. She felt stronger, much more like herself. Of course now she had some unfortunate memories, but she could push those aside for now. She wanted to see if her powers were working again. She hadn't been able to use them in awhile now, and it was driving her crazy...well crazier. She shot out her hand, blasting a bolt of electricity at nothing in particular. She was safely dry at the moment, so not in any danger of being shocked, even if it was pretty wet outside. She nodded in satisfaction.
"Looks like I'm back." She told Peter with a grin, before giving him a silly little hug. "Thanks!"
Peter glanced up at the blast of lightning, one eyebrow arching slightly. He had met her before, then. That ability showed it. He'd been able to produce lightning for... two, three years now? But that also meant that he'd encountered this woman before receiving his scar, since she clearly hadn't expected it on him.
He tensed for a moment when she suddenly hugged him, not expecting the reaction. He nodded, patting her arm awkwardly, and took an uneasy step back. "Elle," he asked, changing the question. "What year was it, before you came here? Did you know... me before, or after that?"
Elle took a couple steps back herself, she hadn't quite meant to hug him. She just got all excited or something, since was back and her power was working great. Too bad she couldn't really use it defensively yet because of all the damn rain.
"It was 2007." Elle explained. "And I knew you before I came here. Well, not you...but my Peter." She told him. "He was captured by the Company after Nathan saved him frm blowing up New York and I went to visit him. A lot." She told him. "I was a really bad girl..." she frowned. "But I think I'm doing better here."
Peter stared at her, his stone-carved face caught in an expression of shock. "He... Nathan? Wait, I... he..." His mind was racing, and he was losing his train of thought. Peter shook his head, trying to get the words out properly, too stunned to be annoyed by his lack of control. "New York didn't explode?"
He didn't understand what that could mean. He'd exploded, he knew that. He remembered it.
"No, Nathan flew you away before it could explode." Elle told him, he obviously came from a different timeline or something. "New York is fine." She assured him. "Well, I don't know about here...but our New York, it's fine."
This Peter must have actually exploded. That was so weird to think about, two different Peter's...with different memories after a point. "You and your brother both survived."
Peter began to sit, his expression numb. Halfway there, his shadow leaped up from the ground, solidifying under his body into a seat, which Peter sat upon, gripping it tightly under his hands. "Nathan..." Peter shut his eyes. "Then... no one knows about us? There's no... special curfews? Blood tests? Jails, for Evos? The Linderman Act?" All results of the explosion. All his fault, his burden.
"Well, some people know about us...but not like all over." Elle said. "And no, no curfews or anything like that. And Linderman is dead, has been for a long time." She pointed out. She realized all of this might be a little difficult to hear, but he should be happy about it, shouldn't he? He didn't explode and kill .07 of the population. It also made her realize the world that he'd come from was very different from this one. Darker.
"So...what are you doing here?" A change of subject might be best for right now.
In truth, Peter didn't know how to take the news. He wanted to believe it. On the other hand, he wondered why, how, when? Had Hiro managed to...
"Claire." He latched onto the shift in topic. "She... wanted to see if anyone here could help us. We... don't have anyplace to be."
"Well, I think you could definitely help us." Elle said. "And we can probably help you. There is a good amount of space here, I think." She couldn't say for sure, but the team was always expaning. It might be a little strange with the other versions of them here, but the more the merrier, right?
"There are empty rooms and I'm sure Angel, he's the one who runs this place, won't mind if you and your Claire stay here."
Peter nodded. "I suppose I should talk with him, then." That seemed to settle the matter. He got back to his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets. His shadow flowed back to the ground. "How are you feeling now?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he's around somewhere. We've been a little crazy around here." Elle commented. They had a lot they were trying to accomplish. It felt weird to say We, she was a part of all this. "Um, better I think." She nodded. "I'm not quite sure what to do with the new memories...but physically? I feel great."
"Good. That's the part I can do something about." Peter stood for a moment, telepathically sending Claire a message to look for someone named 'Angel', then looked back at Elle. "Did you want them?" He could take them away again if she didn't. He just wasn't sure if he would.
Elle nodded. "It's fine, I can handle them." She said. "Anyway, I'm going to head back inside, if you want to come with, I can introduce you to people that will get you all set up here. And maybe you can meet yourself."
He hesitated. Peter wasn't a people-person. Maybe he had been once, but that had been a long time ago. Now she wanted him to meet people. Including himself. It wasn't a particularly engaging idea.
But Claire wanted to be here. Even if he wasn't thrilled about it, he owed it to her.
"Alright," he said, nodding. "Let's see how this goes."
Elle nodded, and walked back into the Hyperion. Peter could follow her and then she would introduce him to Angel or something, someone that could get them set up here. She wanted to help him, after all, he'd helped her.
Peter watched her go in, and looked up at the sky. For a moment, he wondered what the hell he was about to get himself into. What he'd already gotten himself into. But it was probably too late to back out at this point.
With a sigh, he followed Elle inside the hotel.