Pete Lattimer (petelattimer) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-08-02 12:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | pete lattimer |
Characters: Pete Lattimer
When: Early this morning
Location: A motel and an internet cafe
Warnings/Rating: Pete's version of mental swearing. Nothing too bad, I think. Spoilers for WH 13 episode 4.2
Summary: Pete arrives in Lawrence, and finds out he's fictional, and his future, all in one fell swoop.
Status: Closed and Complete; Narrative
Pete was staring out at the burning warehouse, looking around, when with not even a warning, the scene changed. He was standing, instead, in a small room, one he recognized as being a rather bad version of a motel. What the heck? Was this part of what Artie had meant? Was this part of some sort of plan? Yeah! It had to be! He reached into his pockets for the Farnsworth, and realized he didn’t have it. Oh heck! It must be back in Warehouse 13! …with the rest of the rubble. Aw man! Myka and Artie both were going to yell at him this time! He hadn’t ever lost a Farnsworth, not since that first time involving the Russian Ballet dancer who had suddenly taken off on a cruise with that weird billionaire. And he had gotten that back, even if it required a little finesse, and some swimming, and dealing with a crotchety old man naked Alf, or something like that, who had been left with the ballet dancers. That had been just weird. Artie had kept snickering at him. Not nice. He turned toward the phone and picked it up, hitting nine and then dialing out, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, glad he still had that, at least. He tried six numbers, all of them known by heart, all collect calls, all numbers that did not exist. He swore and then dialed to the operator and called the Washington headquarters of the Secret Service, and tried to check in. Only the operator there laughed at him when he told the man who he was and what his number was, and he was soon staring at a phone that had been hung up. What the heck was going on? Was this some sort of alternate reality thing caused by an artifact? Where he had never been born or something? Maybe he could get a clue on the television. He grabbed the remote and sat on the end of the bed, and clicked it on. It was fittingly the 13th channel he hit when he got hit by the thunderbolt, and then he was staring, and watching, and listening, for an hour. When the show ended, and he saw previews for the season, and he slowly turned off the set, Pete was still staring. He was fictional. Here. Wherever here was, he was fictional and so was everyone he knew. And he'd died, and been un-killed, by Artie's manipulation of the thingy. What? What was he supposed to do now? He shivered, rubbing his arms, cold despite wearing his jacket still. He had his I.D. and his Tesla, and he knew he was real. He knew it, but… there on the television had been… something, something that seemed to mirror his life… only this had been what happened next, it had been his future, where he had died. Of course, Artie had fixed it, and Helena was alive(Yay!!) and he was alive(yay!) and everyone was alive, well, except Steve, but--- God… at least everyone else had been okay at the end… everyone but Claudia. His eyes narrowed and his jaw firmed and he rose, moving toward the door. He had a universe to find and a friend to save, and nothing was going to stop him. On the street, he spotted an internet cafe, and headed for it. Maybe he could sent out a code and find a way to trigger something. Something Artie or Claudia could home in one. Of course, what he found instead was a network, a network full of other fictional people. Excitement stung him, and he smiled slowly. "Holy crossovers, Batman!" He grinned as he started typing... |