Participants:
| Scene Title | Ending Something |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Finally, on their own terms, Kaylee and Peter bring about a resolution to their time together and say their goodbyes. |
| Date | November 19, 2010 |
The last five years of Kaylee's life — only a month to the rest — seems to have been leading up to this time in her life. Her time in 1880's seemed to be preparing her to survive out on an island without all the things that the modern world has. Maybe that's why she hasn't missed it, yet. She arrived in the middle of the assault on GunHill, she hasn't had time to reintroduce herself to 2010.
While she's happily dropped the skirts and the torture device that was the corset circa the victorian age for jeans, Kaylee still finds some comfort in wearing a dark gray turtleneck. Her blonde hair is far too long to kept down, so even that is wound up in a bun, though she still has to brush loose strands behind her ear.
Steam slowly rises off the tub of water that Kaylee is hunched over, sleeves pushed up to her elbows so she can submerge hands into the milks suds. One that that can't be escaped, even out on the island, is the need to do laundry. Lengths of cord are stretched out through the room and from them hangs bed linens in various degree of dryness, with clothing strung where it can.
A pair of crucifix, normally seen around Joseph's neck, swing over of the tub as she works. Scrubbing another pair of jeans, she pauses to brush the back of her wrist against her forehead, a grimace at the way her lifted arm pulls at the healing wound at her side. Kaylee seems at ease as she works, thoughts lost somewhere, maybe thinking about the life she left, or maybe they are with Joseph and where he might be. Either way she's distracted, pulling the jeans out of the water, gold glints on her left hand in the low light, while she twists the heavy fabric working the water out of it.
Kaylee isnt' along though, as much as anyone in Fort Bannerman could be, at any rate. Lingering in the doorway to the chamber where Kaylee has strung up the laundry, the man with arms folded over his chest is a far cry from the one who told her to leave him all those months ago, the one who — ultimately — was right.
A tattered and bloodstained black denim jacket covers Peter Petrelli's slimmed down frame, his narrow face looking tired and, notably, scarred. Still partly scabbed over, a horrible injury cuts across Peter's face, a scar that time has shown he is unable to hide. Cutting from one brow and across the bridge of his nose to his cheek, the cut is so eep it leaves a visible groove in his skin, still reddened on the edges and tender.
"Hey."
Peter always did have the ability to sneak up on people, announce his presence unexpectedly and at times unwantedly. Today he's going to find out which of those two is true.
"You know… sneaking up on a telepath is hard to do." The words are flat, but lacking any real emotion, not really giving a clue to how welcome or not that he is. Kaylee uses the edge of the tub to push herself up to her feet slowly, breath catching a little at the pulling at her side. She doesn't look at Peter, not yet, instead turning to putting those jeans on a line, smoothing them by hand. It's only then that the telepath turns to face her ex, chin tilting up a little in defiance, as she starts to say, "I don't know —"
Then she sees the scar.
Both brows lift at the sight of him, her surprise isn't hidden at all, before softening into something akin to pity. "Well," Kayle starts softly, her voice less girlish then it had, much like the rest of her, which has filled more into the curves of a woman. "Seems we both have done some changing since we last met."
"You know… sneaking up on a telepath is hard to do." The words are flat, but lacking any real emotion, not really giving a clue to how welcome or not that he is. Kaylee uses the edge of the tub to push herself up to her feet slowly, breath catching a little at the pulling at her side. She doesn't look at Peter, not yet, instead turning to putting those jeans on a line, smoothing them by hand. It's only then that the telepath turns to face her ex, chin tilting up a little in defiance, as she starts to say, "I don't know —"
Then she sees the scar.
Both brows lift at the sight of him, her surprise isn't hidden at all, before softening into something akin to pity. "Well," Kayle starts softly, her voice less girlish then it had, much like the rest of her, which has filled more into the curves of a woman. "Seems we both have done some changing since we last met."
Remarkably, Peter doesn't see it. Or, he does, but not for what it really is. It's been over half a year since they'd really seen each other, a long time for people to change, Peter himself the evidence of that, Kaylee likewise. That five years have passed for her is unfathomable, a guess he could never make. In his eyes, the world has just been hard on her.
"I didn't even know you were here 'till this morning," Peter explains, as if in some sort of apology. "I… they had me down in the medical bay until Monday. Spent the last couple of days just resting, trying to…" Peter's eyes shut, one hand comes up and his palm covers his eyes as his fingers rub at the scar on his forehead. "Christ, I'm not… even sure why I came here to see you."
With a hesitant step backward, Peter considers leaving, all of that uncertainty that he'd had towards the end of their relationship visible on his face again, though the pain evidenced in that expression is not entirely ane motional one, but also physical; it hurts to emote with a scar across your face.
"Peter."
His name is isn't snapped at him, no anger there, just a sort of plea for him to stop. "It's alright," the words are gently gently spoken, an attempt to ease some of the tension. Wiping damp hands on her jeans, Kaylee slowly approaches Peter. "I didn't even know you were here either, not that — " She trails off, brows furrowing as she glances away, confirming her words before she says them. " —not that I would have sought you out. You were the one to kick me out," she points out gently, brows ticking up as if challenging him to prove her wrong.
"Water under the bridge." Blue eyes study him for a moment, before the telepath looks down, eyes cast down to focus on the floor. "I don't hate you for what you did — I mean — not now." Back then was a different story. "Unlike you, I've had several years to get over what happened." Kaylee gives Peter a tight smile, full of uncertainty and feeling a touch awkward.
"Softens the memory and lightens the blow of it," Kaylee adds stopping to stand not too far from him.
Peter's head jerks into a double take as he tries to parse what Kaylee said. His brows briefly furrow before relaxing away from the more painful expression. Questions are painted across his features, though they might as well be whispered in the asking for how subtle his emotive responses are at the moment.
Of all the people, Hiro never once asked Peter for help.
Probably for the best.
"Five…" Peter breathlessly asks in a single word, without really making it sound like a question. He takes a step forward, enough to clear the distance between he and Kaylee, enough that one hand is reflexively lifting up a hand towards her cheek before he remembers how much time passed for him. Fingers curl against his palm, his throat works up and down, and Peter looks away from the blonde, dark eyes averted to the floor.
"Five," she repeats softly as confirmation, looking up even as his hand drops. "I will be twenty-nine in February." Kaylee takes a slow step back, the soles of her shoes scraping on the floor. "Victim of the time war, but — I would do it again." Instead of being bitter, she sounds amused, though her eyes are decidedly sad.
"Honestly, Peter…" Fingers curl around his upper arm, gently squeezing to get his attention. "You did the right thing," the words are honest, Kaylee seems to think it's true.
Catching the glint on her hand, the telepath draws her hand away, fingers fiddling with the ring it as she turns away. Her tongue touches her lips, wetting them, before she admits. "Even though I love you, we were wrong for each other — especially since this — the Ferry. This is me."
Turning back enough to look at Peter over her shoulder Kaylee chuckles, a sad sound, "You are by the way, a hypocrite. Messiah?" Brows lift in a look a mother would give a child for being naughty. "I once swore if I saw you again, I was going to slap you." She glances away, thoughtful.
"You got off lucky there," she blandly states.
"Yeah…" is Peter's deferential agreement, one that he doesn't even believe when it comes out of his mouth. He's saying it because it's the easy answer. Explaining the truth of why he did what he did, why he pushed her away, it's harder— opens old wounds— wouldn't do anything to change the present however much he might want it to. He lost his chance, and how he has to live with just how much of his life Rupert Carmichael robbed from him.
He could have been happy.
"Hiro?" It's all Peter can think of as he considers Kaylee with a worried expression. "I heard something… something from Cardinal about Hiro, I just— he didn't— " Peter doesn't quite have the words, still, to express himself to her. Words were always tricky with Kaylee, they still are as he's discovering.
"Hiro feels guilty for it, I imagine he blames himself, but it wasn't him.." Kaylee can't help but defend the time traveler, despite the time it took to find her. "It was my choice to help him and I became a target." She goes silent then for a moment, her back to him. It's hard not to look into his thoughts, to see what he's thinking, but at the same time, she's scared to look.
Could they have been happy?
Kaylee once asked herself that over and over, as well as fretted over what she did to deserve to be tossed away. Then Joseph step back into her life and… everything changed. Long fingers wrap around the crosses, even as he hurts to think about him and where he could be, especially thanks to the rumors.
"For awhile, I wanted to talk to you, especially my vision about the riots. It was confusing." Slowly, Kaylee turns to face Peter again, but she doesn't move close, still keeping a respectable distance. "In it I died asking where you were. Refusing help til I knew where you were." It's probably cruel what she's saying, but a part of her feels she needs to say it. The letter she wrote all those years ago, gone.
"It didn't come true," she offers bluntly, watching him.
Peter turns, only halfway, offering his profile to Kaylee as his head dips down into a slow, steady nod. "Guess that's probably for the best," sounds half hearted; is half hearted. "I dunno why I came down here to see you, I guess I just…" Peter's eyes close and one hand lifts to rub across his mouth. "I dunno," is mumbled into his palm as he turns to look more fully in Kaylee's direction, and he looks at her as if finally seeing her for the first time.
There's silence in Peter's assessment, silence and contemplation. Eventually, though, Peter bobs his head twice and offers a weary smile. "I'm going to be leaving soon. I'm not… entirely sure where I'm going, either. I just— I need to leave here before I ruffle any more feathers. You can probably understand why I'm not the most popular kid here right now," Peter admits with a crack of a sarcastic smile he only half means.
I missed you, is something he can't admit, but while it may not be written on his face, it is on the fore of his mind.
"Not hard to figure out," Kaylee nods slowly, giving him a crooked smile in return.
There seems to be a flicker of something across her features, smile faltering a little, when she catches that stray thought. It takes only a moment more before Kaylee does close that gap between them. Hands now callused from years of hard work, no longer as smooth as they were, bracket his face gently. "Hey," the word is spoken firmly, a soft smile on her lips.
"I know, your feeling like your world has fallen down around your head," starts Kaylee gently, once she knows she has his attention. Hand slide to rest on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. "Don't let them trample you down, Peter. This all isn't your fault. Rupert did this to all of us, not you." There is a knowing look as she adds, "But I know you are shouldering a lot of the guilt.
"Just…" Looking down, Kaylee's brows furrow. "I'm not sure what I 'm trying to say…"
Slowly look up at him, something dawns on her, "I guess I want to say…" She moves to wrap arms around him into a hug, not something she thought she'd do, but — time changes people. Her voice softens as she speaks, to something close to a whisper. "You were my friend, before —" before they were lovers, but she doesn't say that. "Especially when I needed one, when my world was kinda shaky still. Let me be one for you now?
"I can't be more then that," she feels the need to clarify, "I am in love someone else… something I didn't acknowledge til after the vision, when I thought I was going to die, and I'm happy with him. Happier then I though possible." Even though he is the one that broke her heart, she still gives him an apologetic smile, for revealing that. "But I would like to be your friend again, if you'll have me."
Peter is stiff in Kaylee's embrace, throat tight in swallowing, one hand moves around her back if only that she doesn't need to see his hand glow a soft golden-white color, as he finally relieves himself of the burden of Sasha Kozlow's ability and the temptations that it presence. His mind, now safely behind a wall of Kaylee's telepathy, is his own again.
Peter still hasn't answered by the time he's unwinding his arms and slipping out of the embrace. His expression says more than his lack of words do, the awkwardness in his eyes restraining emotion inappropriate for this reunion. He smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. It's one of appreciation for the offer, but it winds up being an expression of thanks, but no thanks without as many words.
"I…" Peter can barely find his voice, "don't think I'm ready to have friends." It's honest, even if painfully so. Kaylee is right, he's blaming himself for everything, for the riots, for the deaths, for not being able to stop it. He's blaming himself for it all.
"I guess, what I wnated to do, was say goodbye." That much hurts, Kaylee doesn't need to be a mind-reader to see that much. "I never got to before."
Apart again, there is sadness there in those blue eyes, maybe some regret for how things ended between them, but Kaylee doesn't tear up or cry. What they had, is gone and she's moved on. There is the worry that Joseph might not like this older version of herself, but that's something she'll worry about when and if she ever sees him again.
When it come to her and Peter, Kaylee has already shed tears for that dying ember between them long ago, but she does offer him understanding. "Alright," she offers gently, taking a step back to put some distance between them, arms sliding around herself as if to ward off a sudden chill. "But remember they are out there, when you are ready for them.
"Til then Peter, please take care of yourself?" Kaylee can't help but worry about him.
Distance is something Peter had come to expect. Ending something, on his own terms, even if the ending is already a bygone conclusion always feels liberating. This doesn't feel that way. This feels like heartbreak all over again, but one that he can't fight against — shouldn't fight against.
"You look happy…" is an honest recognition, and Peter's smile grows slowly as he offers it to Kaylee. Head ducking down, he takes a slow step back, then away and through the crumbling arch of the doorway. There's an audible elipses on the end of his words though, and for all that he's happy for her, it's clear that maybe he wishes he could have been happy with her.
Though maybe, as Peter excuses himself from the room, he finally realize he was happy with her.
The outcome of that, he has no one to blame but himself.
