Nikolai Peterson | Piotr Rasputin (metalass) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2015-08-09 08:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | frankie discombe, nikolai peterson |
Who: Nikolai Peterson and Frankie Discombe
What: He's finally getting out.
Where: New Orleans
When: Saturday August 8th.
"Here's your phone. My number's programmed in there."
Nik blearily accepted the device that was thrust at him, glancing up at Frankie's face. These days she always seemed so hard to read. Maybe he was just out of practice. Several months worth of virtual solitary confinement were sure to do that to a person. Maybe that was pity in her eyes. A murmured thanks was the most he could manage, which felt almost worthless in portraying how he actually felt. After much more than a year since he last remembered being actually happy he was finally being given the chance to get back to a life. Maybe not his life, the one he'd planned since Caitlin had told him she was pregnant. The one where they got married and raised their kids together, but that had since become a distant memory, a half-remembered dream.
In practice, too much had changed. Yet in some ways he was still hopeful that things would turn out okay. Frankie had said she couldn't keep him locked up indefinitely and that he was as deprogrammed as they were going to get him without finding there was still some pocket in his brain that was capable of taking over everything once more. But they were fairly certain there wasn't. It didn't mean he had a free pass at his old life, far from it. The restrictions imposed on him seemed harsh, but he couldn't blame the team or Frankie for putting them there. By all accounts his actions under the direction of Dr Eston had been horrific. Either way, it still hurt but there was always a chance that it wouldn't remain this way forever.
"Remember, you can call me any time you need help, but everyone else is off-limits until they contact you. I'll talk to Caitlin."
If he wasn't mistaken, Frankie's voice seemed softer than normal. Nik nodded at her. All he could do really was trust that she'd do her best to let his once-fiancée know that he was safe to talk to. Otherwise all hope of ever seeing his daughter again was basically lost. "I appreciate it." He tried, his voice still croaky from lack of use. "Guess I'll be seeing you." Frankie shrugged as he turned to leave.
"I hope so."
Then he was outside, breathing in the air of New Orleans and wondering what the hell he was going to do next.