Begrudging Cooperation


abby_icon.gif claire_icon.gif peter_icon.gif

Scene Title Begrudging Cooperation
Synopsis Peter may not like the idea of reaching outside of Messiah for help, but when Abigail Beauchamp brings up knowledge about the potential source of the Ferry's leak, he has to take steps to see the leak plugged.
Date July 16, 2010

Lower East Side

Once, this place used to be a happy, warm home. Once, Peter used to share this apartment with someone he honestly thought he cared about. How, however, after his meeting with Rene and the truth about what the Company did to his mind known, he can't be certain how much of his feelings for the woman's who'se photograph still sits on the fireplace mantle beside a picture of Peter and Nathan was his feelings, or her own.

Trying to focus on something else has found Peter's repurposed apartment turned into something of a war room. Furniture has become sparse again since Kaylee moved out, everything packed back into boxes, and a cork-board up on the wall beside the fireplace where newspaper clippings of Messiah's activities in the newspaper, along with photographs of government employees, Company agents and suspected Institute operatives are all tacked up together, connected by a two-dimensional web of colored string. Not quite as involved as Hiro Nakamura's three dimensional string webs, but perhaps a subconscious homage.

At least these days Peter isn't alone in his apartment, and he's come to share it with a different young woman, though this one is family.

"Abby just texted me, says she's in the lobby, she should be up in a minute or two…" Looking down to his cell phone from where he stands by that cork-board, Peter turns to offer an askance look over his shoulder to Claire. "I dunno what she wants exactly, but I think it has something to do with what Risa showed Ash at Biomere…"

Not far away, at a square table that looks so small in the empty expanse of what was once Peter's living room, newspapers and Atlas maps of New York City are laid out in front of Claire Bennet, red wax pencil marks outlining areas of Staten Island, specifically around a High School on the northeastern corner of the neighborhood known now as the Rookery.

Abigail Beauchamp may not have approved of terrorism going on in her own apartment, but Peter Petrelli seems like the kind of person who brings work home with him.

One thing Claire isn't great at, it's the whole planning thing. She's the soldier, not the commander. However, she bounces the back of a red wax pencil off the table in a steady rhythm to whatever top forty song is playing in her head. Possibly something that makes her want to blow her own head off to forget… however, once is enough.

She's been slightly moody since her argument with Cardinal over the phone… okay… more moody then she has been. The circle of people she's been associating has been fairly thin as of later as she been practicing that whole… push everyone away move of hers. "Biomere?" The pencil pauses in it's tapping, as Claire looks his way.

"Oh wait. That's right I heard about that." Turning her attention back to the map, her dark ponytail resting over her shoulder, "The whole… someone the Company has is now not there… thing. It's not as popular a topic as West's screw up." There is a smile in her voice as she say that last.

Because Abby prefers to sperate work from pleasure, and her home is her sanctuary until Terrorist blow it up, she burns it down or someone dies. She's never been here before, for all the times that Peter has offered to let her stay over and stay in it when she needed to. Her animals have been here.

What she has for Peter, only Abby knows and after enough time has passed, she's on the other side of the door, in the hallway, knocking to announce that their guest has arrived. khaki skirt, flip flops, blonde hair down, layered tank tops and the out of place black strap that cross over one shoulder and disappears as if one were carrying a money pouch under their clothing on travel. Purse slung over shoulder and car key's flicking over and over in her hands as she waits for Peter to answer the door.

The sound of footsteps approaching the apartment door clunks in slow rhythm just before the latches slide open and the chain rattles along with the clunk of a deadbolt. Peter may well be paranoid, but at least it's rightfully so. When he pulls the apartment door open, there's a nervous smile on his bearded face offered to Abby, along with a nod into the apartment. She hasn't seen him dressed like this in a while, and that he's not working today is likely the reason why.

A black tanktop does little to hide the fact that he's been working out, actually looking toned and muscular from what was a wiry and sickly frame that he'd been trying to work back ever since he was possessed by Kazimir. Dark boots clunk across the floor as he walks away from the door, stepping out of the way to let Abby see Claire seated at the table, "Hey…" Peter offers quietly, "c'mon in, shut the door behind you. There's some coffee in the kitchen, and uh, don't mind the mess." And by mess he means all this incriminating information.

Turning towards the door, Claire leans back in the chair. Lifting her feet up to rest her combat boots on the table. "Hey there, Abby." It's offered pleasantly. When working Messiah, the ex-cheerleader still adopts the black t-shirt and camo pants combo. The taps the toes of her boots together as she watches the blonde woman.

"Been awhile." She offers, with a bit of a lopsided smile. "Like… ages it feels like." The red pencil is tossed on the table, leaving it to roll across the map until it taps against something else.

No smile. Okay, tiny polite smile as she eases into the apartment, a glance to Claire when it's evident they're not along. "Hey Claire. Likely, probably. Likely going on half a year or so" Abby doesn't come much further into the apartment, standing to the side of the door when it's closed, digging her thumbs into the pockets of her skirt and letting them hang. "I just came to give some information peter was asking about. Then I'll be out of your respective hairs and you can go back to plotting" Planning, what have you.

Which would be why she's looking at Peter now. "I talked to Ryans. He's supposed to be getting a progress report in a few days but he's going to check for you. Darrens training was just about done anyways. If he's gone, he'll see what he can dig up. I gave him your phone number, said he could contact you. He didn't see too upset about it. I have to talk with him again anyways, other messages to pass around from other parties. If I hear anything else about Darren I'll let you know. If he's not in institute hands but wants out. He'll be brought back to the Ferry and we'll try to figure out how best to help him"

Exhaling a sigh, Peter dips his head down into a nod and takes a few pacing steps around the living room back towards the table. "You can come in, miss Switzerland, my apartment and the paperwork isn't gonna' bite you. Honest about the coffee, put just finished percolating." Coming to stand behind a chair sitting at that square table, Peter leans forward and rests his weight down on the back.

"Something else came up yesterday, a couple things actually, kind've glad I got you both together for it." Dark eyes alight to Abby, motioning for one of the two other empty seats at the table for her to take if she likes, thankfully Peter's apartment is air-conditioned, given how hot it is out today.

"The Biomere building that was attacked the other week? It was a Company front, Rebel wanted access to some of their biotech information. Problem is, security was overly light and we don't know if it was a setup or if something's going on in the Company. I don't have any real connections with them, so I think I'm going to try and pick Ryans' brain about it some when we talk…"

Scratching one hand at his left brow, Peter looks down to the map on the table. "Secondly, I picked up something for you from an old friend of the family." When Peter's eyes alight back to Abby, she can feel something wash over her, the same sensation of stepping into an air-conditioned apartment — but internal. Carefully conscious about his choices, Peter secludes Claire out of this particular new trick.

"I've got Rene— the Haitian's— ability. I thought it might come in handy… you know, if you ever have a meltdown again. I can't turn you back once it's happened, but I can stop it if I catch the onset. When I was talking to him, he mentioned that Noah Bennet's," brown eyes divert to Claire, "birthday was coming up…"

Peter lets his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug as he looks back to Abby. "He wanted to tell me to have Claire go talk to him, but I don't even know where to find Noah these days. I was hoping you might."

Most of it, is really not any of her business, so Claire listens but stays completely silent. Blue eyes moving from one person to the other. At least til it comes to the mention of her father, that has Claire first looking guilty and then paling at the idea of having to go see him. Her head shakes back and forth a little bit in denial.

"I know why he wants to see me. No." Claire's boots slide of the table, her head is still making back and forth movements. "Absolutely not… it'll just disolve into him yelling at me and lecturing me… just like always." Her gaze moves to Peter, brows furrowed. Her defiance flags a little, her gaze dropping as she adds a bit softer, "I'll sending him a card… or something."

She doesn't want to go near the Messiah stuff, likely to be Messiah stuff on the table. On principle, she actually hates that it's named what it's named. They are surely not The Messiah. More than one occasion she's wanted to box Peter's ears for calling it that.

But he's moving away and at the table, and Claires there and Abigail is always - with few exceptions and people - polite. Flip flops are kicked off and the spare seat at the table taken, with nary a glance down to the papers. If they didn't want her to see it, they could have put it all away, but they didn't and she's still respectful.

"What did you pick up for me Peter" Gifts. Picking up something for her. An apology maybe? Better not be another cro-

He can see it on her face, Claire can see it on her face when Rene's gift, the Haitian's negation - say that three times fast - washes over her, obliterating the low grade temperature she's been operating at. Her hand delves into her purse to grab the iphone and look at the face of it when her thumb hits an icon and aa app springs up on it. Normal. "Claire didn't know about me Peter. There's a handful of folks who do. Thanks for now including her in my predicament" Carefully and neutrally spoken. "Is this your way of begging me to come back and work in the rig?" Abigail switches her attention to Claire. "Peter was a jerk. Peter's also afraid of evolved babies and thinks that he runs my life since he moved in with me temporarily and is my ambulance partner"

"As for Mister Bennet. Even I don't know where to find him. He ninja'd me up on the roof of the hospital. You don't want to talk to him right now. I think he's been.. messed with by a persuasionist. But I can pass a message and presents along if you like. Mel found your dog, she's bringing it to the hangar. Promise that he'll go to a groomer first, he was looking pretty scruffy"

"Persuasion?" That earns more of a look from Peter than the rest of the frustrating commentary does. Peter's brows pinch together and his head tilts forward slowly. "I promised Rene I'd tell you," he offers to Claire with a look askance to her, "but I never said you'd go. If you don't want to talk to your dad, that's fine… but— at least write him a letter or something?" Worriedly looking over to Abby in her seat, Peter leans off of the chair and starts to circle around the table towards the kitchenette.

"I'm sorry about the baby thing, I just… I'm sorry…" Maybe it's being around Claire, maybe it's being around Abby, maybe it's just being here, but Peter seems more like himself despite the revolutionary plannings underpinning the apartment's decour.

"That you mention the persuasion thing has me worried about something, Melissa left me a voicemail yesterday… says she might know something about the Institute leak in the Ferry. I haven't been able to get a hold of her since." Stepping behind the kitchenette's island, Peter ambles over to the coffee pot, pulling one of the dusty mugs from where they hang under the cabinets, blowing on the inside to try and clean it out.

"I was hoping to… maybe see if this might be a problem we're all having. If there's a mole in the Ferry, I won't be naive enough to think there might not be one in Messiah too. I know things are tense right now, but I'm starting to think some cooperation might not hurt us."

With a clunk, the coffee mug goes down on the countertop and Peter's brows furrow, staring down inside the mug. "Claire, Abby can turn into a giant pillar of fire if she gets angry. Abby, Claire's regeneration is fighting off a fatal strain of Malaria, and I just found out the Company hardwired my brain to be more susceptible to telepathic screwing with."

There's a strained noise in the back of his throat. "Now we're all on the same page."

Brown brows lift high on her head, before Claire sends an amused look Peter's way. Hands are lifted in Abigail's direction. "Hey now. You act as if I'm some blabber mouth." A glance goes to her uncle out of the corner of her eye, saying Good going there Uncle Pete. The amusement stays as she steps after him intent on the kitchenette and that coffee.

But then there is the mention of a persuader, has her halting and turning back with a deadly serious look from Claire. "Wait… what? What do you mean, messed with by a persuader?" Her and her father might be fighting, but no one is allowed to mess with her daddy.

Of course, Peter throws out that one thing she's been — for the most part — keeping under wraps, and shoots him a glare. But then she sighs heavily. "Yes… I am a walking biological weapon…" The words flat and colorless. "…on top of being a regenerator.

Though… I think pillar of fire is pretty damn cool." That being her Magnes moment. "Got that whole, wrath of God thing going on."
"Not a pillar. I just.. I sorta combust and them I'm just fire. Like a human sorta, made out of fire. And no, it's not that I think you're a blabber mouth it's that there's someone covering for me, covered for me after they found me in the crispy remains of my bar and his job and my freedom are pretty much screwed if anyone finds out."

Abigail turns her blue eye'd gaze to Peter. "Because people don't spontaneously get abilities back after they've been permanently taken, much less different ones, without an explanation. I take negation drugs at work, to make sure I don't just flare up" Abby gestures to the black strap. "This has a monitor attached, that sends temp readings to my phone. Cat's wondering if they can't just hook me up to like an insulin pump with some sedative and if I start getting hot, it'll trigger and dose me up." Needles. Ick.

As for the leak/persuasionist. Well. "I don't know for sure whether he is. Ferry's re-orgnaizing, working at making itself more efficient, right? Because to a degree, they're dis-organized. So they're forming a council, with heads for each department. One of the people nominated, I had.. overheard some things, that I wasn't supposed to overhear. Pretty sure she's a persuasionist, or something like that. Whatever she does, it makes people do what she wants. Which was the second reason I was coming here to talk to you Peter. I talked with Mister Bennet, and he thinks this person is pretty fine. Hana says this person is fine. I talked to this person, and other than she's killed people or had them killed so that the Ferry didn't get exposed…"

There's a palm lifted, forefinger pointing. 'before you ask, no, I know she didn't use her ability on me. I drugged the tea with negation drugs. Of which, she was very unhappy with me about"

"Persuasion can be tricky, there was a woman who worked for the Company back before the bomb… her name was Eden." Reaching for the coffee pot, Peter pours himself a cup, back to the room as he speaks. "She could make you do anything, absolutely anything, even things you were morally against. Most of the time, you wouldn't even remember doing it." There's a clunk as the pot is set back, and Peter grips the handle of the mug, turning around to look back towards the table.

"What I'm saying is, if this Susan's screwing with people's minds, they may not even realize it. You might've actually known her for months, and she may've made you forget. The only way to be certain would be to have someone like— " Peter's eyes dart to the photo on the mantle, then back to Abby, "someone like Kaylee check you out in your head. In fact, she might be able to scan for signs of persuasive tampering in a lot of other people too."

Coming around the island, Peter lifts up the mug to take a sip of the black coffee, then sets it down on one of the maps, leaving a coffee ring on the bottom. "If you want help, I'm willing to help out however I can. I may not be a part of the Ferrymen anymore, but they're more helpful as an ally than as an enemy, and if we can get rid of this mole than we could probably have better relations between our two groups."

"Wow Abby." Claire sounds a touch amused grabbing another of the mugs. "Sneaky… like it. Just remind me not to irk you or anything." She looks in the mug and brows furrow, before stepping over to the sick and turning it over to let a dead bug drop into the sink. "Seriously, Peter… you need to clean your place up some." The mug is clunked down in the sink and she turns on the water… she might as well clean it. So she goes silent, just listening.

However, the talk of persuasion has her brows furrowed in thought. What she's thinking, only a telepath would really know.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

If the Haitian effect wasn't in play, there's be noticeable waves of heat coming from her, and likely dasing down a hall in search of a bathroom. Her iPhone bleating out in protest. Instead it's just her jaw dropping. Mel has surmised that was a possibility. "So Claires Dah could very well be speaking out his arse about Susan? I could have seriously met her before and not remember" Fingertips drum on the table, her own stress level jacking up incrementally.

"Peter, how does that post-cog you got something from before. Is there.. a chance that I could meet her? That I could take her somewhere, and she could tell me what happened there say.. two weeks ago give or take a day?"

Making a noise in the back of his throat, Peter lifts up a hand and scrubs at the back of his neck nervously. "Her name's Risa Lynette… she was a former Moab inmate. She's young, used to run with Norman White's crew but wound up having a change of heart right at the end. She's good… trustworthy." In that notion, Peter looks askance to Claire in the kitchen, then back to Abby.

"Risa doesn't go anywhere alone, she's got some… personal issues. I can talk to her about helping you out, but she's going to need someone she knows and trusts there with her. Could be me, Claire, maybe Knox… anyone from our group, otherwise she just…" there's a waver of Peter's hand, "she needs help. But as long as there's familiar faces around she should be alright. There's one hitch with Risa's ability, however."

Glancing over to Claire, Peter furrows his brows and hunches his shoulders up, then looks down to Abby. "She can't see the past, she shows it to everyone around her and it's disorienting. Everyone sees it a little differently, so the more observers you have the better odds there are of finding what you want. But that makes it harder to keep a secret."

More the merrier but harder to keep a secret. People she trust and people Abby trusts. "Then you're coming Clair and bring… Mel? Mel was former Ferry. I'll bring two more, I just.. It's that incident out at central park. Susan and the fitzpatricks, they were planning something out there the day before, and then.. they had worried about Kaylee finding out what they were doing, that kaylee could trace it all back. I think.. I need to get a hold of Kaylee then too. See if I've been tampered with, I'll figure out who to bring. Two more from my group, have her bring two that she trusts. It just.. It niggles wrong Peter and everyone keeps telling me it's nothing but…"

What if susan really had done something, was orchestrating something big, pulling at people, altering things.

"If this is nothing, if I'm just seeing things and being paranoid, then.. then that's it. But if there's something there.. The fitzpatricks are 'still on delivery' and haven't returned" THis is bugging her, and bugging her pretty good.

She looks to Claire, looking the girl over. "Super malaria? Remind me not to take a blood transfusion from you, if you're anything like Adam Monroe"

The Sandra influence is starting to show itself as — after she washes the mug —the sponge is swept over the inside of the sink, lips pressed together in a thin line. Pausing in her sink scrubbing, Claire looks up. "Yeah… souvenir from my time in Madagascar. Contracted Malaria and then it mutated into something nasty and incurable." Glancing between both, she gives a slow shrug of her shoulders and starts scrubbing at it again. "But… yeah… people that get what I have are stuck on medication for life. It holds it back, but doesn't cure it."

Another pause and Claire visible shivers. "Or last I heard… who knows now. Could be something totally different now."

"Alright, we can do this, but only after you get Kaylee to check you out. I don't want you triggering some sort of kill-impulse or something if you see something you weren't supposed to, God knows what ability Susan actually has." Reaching up to scratch at his cheek, Peter shifts his weight to one foot and looks down to the table. "Let's set this viewing up for Tuesday. I'm going to be out of state over the weekend," and he doesn't need to detail what, "and when Knox and I get back I'll see how things went with Kaylee and we'll check out this event if you're all clear."

Rubbing his hands together, Peter glances over to Claire, then back to Abby again. "Also, I'd appreciate it if you kept that thing I told you about… what the Company did to me… a secret? I think you can understand why I don't want many people knowing I'm a little too open-minded at the moment."

He's going out of state, which means come monday, whatever they did will likely be in the papers. "As if I'd tell anyone Peter. I'm too busy anyways with kasha at night and the bar, work, Dah. Claire.. you can keep your Malaria, I'll stick to my Russian st-" Who's dead. Supposedly. Another thing she'll have to check into.

"There's some stuff still at my place Peter, do you want me to box it up and bring it over here" To add to the other boxes. "Or should I leave it there, in case you opt to come back?"

Maybe she realizes what she's doing or she's satisfied with the condition of the sink now. The sponge is put away, before she gives Peter a slightly amused look. Brows lift a little as she says. "Um… duh?" It sounds rather childish, but seriously… Peter should know better… Well… sorta… "Who am I going to tell? Magnes?!?" Eyes hood a little in annoyance.

"Leave it," Peter quietly offers, hiding his mouth behind a raised mug of black coffee, "I can't deal with the baby thing right now, but… I do want to come back…" taking a few steps away from the table, Peter walks over to the fireplace, eyeing for a moment the phootgraph of Kaylee on the mantle, then slowly approaches the corkboard with newspaper clippings and photographs pinned up. There's a faint sound in the back of his throat, then a smile as he turns to look over his shoulder.

"You're still my friend…" Peter admits in a quiet tone of voice to one of the few people he can actually admit that to.

"I don't want to change that."

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