Participants:
| Scene Title | Kindred Spirits Need Two |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Bryan shares his concerns with Doctor Knutson, who shares her own concerns in turn with Doctor Salonga, who spends her night listening to the concerns of the patient everyone is concerned about - Peter Petrelli. |
| Date | September 22, 2008 |
Primatech Research - Level Five
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
It is like a metronome, the constant audio report of both an EKG and an EEG monitoring the life-signs of the patient contained in cell 16 on Level 5. Through the reinforced plate-glass window of the cell, Peter Petrelli, categorized as detainee 616 by Company records, remains restrained and under constant observation. A small medical team, headed by Doctor Claudine Salonga has been keeping tabs on his mental and physical recovery, as well as his psychological rehabilitation from what is clearly a pronounced memory loss. More startlingly, as the Company scientists have begun to determine, memory isn't the only thing he has lost in the aftermath of his confrontation with Sylar. Peter Petrelli has been rendered powerless.
It's not understood exactly how or why he has come to this, but even his innate powers of regeneration have been lost by this experience, leaving the physicians of the company astounded. Constant tests have been run; blood work, CAT scans, all in an attempt to discern exactly what criteria caused him to lose his abilities. Not only his collected abilities, but his "Mosaic" as well, as Doctor Suresh's famous book called it. Peter is, in all respects, completely ordinary.
Perhaps it is this mundane nature that he has assumed that has changed him so much. Still woefully unaware of his status as a prisoner, Peter spends his days bound to a hospital bed with explanations flung at him on needing to observe his condition from both the head trauma he allegedly suffered from the "fall" he recalls, to the "psychological impairment" he may suffer from.
For now, he is a curiosity and a specimen. Under the Company's complete scrutiny and mercy…
But medical teams aren't the only ones watching Peter Petrelli. For reasons known only to himself and few others, Bryan Buckley has been seen outside that window many a time over the last few days. He rarely says anything, more interested in what he can hear and glean from both Peter and the doctors muttering about his condition while he sleeps.
Today is no different. Bryan stands, leaning against the large black number five on the opposite wall, his arms folded across his chest, wrinkling the long sleeved t-shirt he wears.
He's been there long enough that should one of the pup's doctors put a stethoscope to his chest, they might find the senior agent's heart beating in time with those machines.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
"I just don't believe it. I do not believe that he's been rendered completely normal. Run more genetic tests. This has to be a result of his psychological trauma. The battle I witnessed between him and Sylar could not have done this. There has to be a logical explanation. Check if he ever collected an ability to manipulate his own biochemistry.."
Yes, one of the doctors is dumbfounded and well, annoyed about it. It just makes no medical sense. Outside his room, away from where she can be heard, Claudine paces for a few moments, trying to calm herself down as she takes a deep cleansing breath.
After a few moments she runs her fingers through her hair and adjusts the gold rimmed spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose. There's so much to do and she has to check up on the patient. So, it's time to head over to Peter's room, but she has to make herself presentable. He can't know she's utterly pissed off from frustration.
So, she heads towards the room, pretty much passing by Bryan before stepping into Peter's room, wrapping her knuckles against the door. Much like before, her right arm is still in a sling, still injured from being shot. Fortunately, she's left handed and so she just rests the clipboard on her gimp arm while entering the room. She peers into the patient's mind, making sure that all is normal before beaming brightly towards him.
"Mr. Petrelli, I hope all is well. Are you feeling all right? Is there anything I can do for you? Pain meds? Food? Something to drink perhaps?"
Doctor Odessa Knutson strides down the Level Five corridor in a pair of terribly impractical green heels that at least match the suit she wears under her white coat. Unlike her psychological contemporary, she decides to join Bryan outside rather than walk past him into Peter's cell. "Observing my patient?" she queries.
Turning his head to view Doctor Salonga when she enters, Peter manages a meager smile for the young woman. His eyes, as they have before, drift to the sling her arm is in, then back up again. "I ah, it'd be nice to get out of this bed. I… I'm feeling better, I mean, about all of this." I'm going nuts down here, I need something to do. This is terrible. "Even if it's just in the room, laying here like this — " Peter closes his eyes and shakes his head. No, maybe I'd try and hurt myself again, or God forbid hurt someone else. I'm in no condition to be doing anything. His thoughts concur with much of what Claudine has been witnessing over the last few days, a complete mental regression to a much earlier period in Peter's life.
"Do you think, maybe I could at least get a TV in here?" His smile turns a bit hopeful, "I sleep as much as I can, but… I just, I don't really have much to do, or anyone to talk to. It — " It's lonely. " — It'a taking some getting used to?" His smile turns into a mild grimace, and slowly Peter lays his head back down on the pillow, growing silent again.
"Wondering what would be best for him," Bryan murmurs, lifting a hand to obscure his mouth as he answers the physician. "Wondering what the usual dosage would do to someone without anything to suppress - like taking aspirin when you don't have a headache. Wondering how long we can justify keeping him here."
The young woman obviously feels for him. she scribbles down a few things and hrmms for a few moments, keeping track of his thoughts, ignoring the outside observers for now. She pulls up a chair by his bed and crosses her legs, getting a tadbit more comfortable while chewing on her bottom lip.
"You know what got me through medical school? Victor Hugo. I thought I was in the worst place ever, suffering through test after test, trying to memorize everything, while having imposter syndrome the entire time. How about, I bring you down 'Les Miserables'. It's almost a thousand pages, that should cure the boredom."
A hearty chuckle escapes from her breath as she writes it down as a reminder to herself along with a few other things.
"And I'll bring down a TV and several DVDs. Any movies or TV series that you like that I could bring down? And if you want, I can visit more often if you want someone to talk to. That's kind of my job and all…ya know, to talk."
Of course, she's bringing down DVDs. Can't have him knowing what the date actually is.
"I suspect we can justify it as long as it pleases the higher-ups." Odessa frowns faintly. "He's still Peter Petrelli. He could manifest without warning. He's a horse of an entirely different colour."
"I happen to only like horses of a few colours," Bryan retorts, speaking more through his teeth now than before. But even if he were Peter Smith, the Company would be far too interested in the science behind what happened to him to mark him as too dangerous a variable and deal with him accordingly.
Bryan sighs and shakes his head, letting his arms fall as he turns as if to walk back down the hallway toward the door and stairs. "There's too much red tape." Is he still talking about Peter?
Peter affords Claudine another meager smile, "Unless you've got someone here who's paid to turn the pages when I ask," His hands rattle the cloth restraints keeping him down on the bed for illustrate his point, "I'll have to pass on the book." A good-natured smile, as best as he can manage, crops up. "I know how you feel, with the studying." His smile begins to fade some, "Went through medical school myself, I mean, nothing like you I guess." A laugh, self-deprecating, "I'm just a glorified doorman for the reaper." It was a tone unusual for him, something perhaps a bit more macabre than would usually be said.
Seeing it himself, Peter shakes his head and laughs nervously. Way to freak her out, "You pick out a few, ones you like. Surprise me." Peter's smile grows a bit more, watching the doctor more carefully, At least I've got something nice to look at for the time being. "If you want to come down more, that… that'd be fine. I don't know how much more I can go over my relations with my parents though." Peter grins, raising one brow, "I think that's mostly old territory now."
"I'm a psychiatrist, Mr. Petrelli. You'd be surprised with how often I hear the same stories over and over again. If anything, we can blame it all on your mom?" she says with a hearty laugh. Oh she's heard that before, but perhaps there's a bit more to why she's saying it. Hopefully she doesn't get smacked by Angela later. That would be bad.
A wry grin curls onto her lips as she shrugs her shoulders a bit and crosses her legs, scribbling a few more things down while mulling over a few things. "How about this, I can get the book for you on tape and you can listen to it. It beats boredom and hey… no paper cuts!" she says with a bright smile. "So, how about I bring down a CD player for you then as well? What sort of music do you like?"
"What's eating you?" Odessa asks after Bryan. "Why are you so concerned about this one?" She narrows her eyes just a touch, curiosity unmistakable.
This one? But Odessa has it all wrong. He turns, a cold smirk sliding onto his features as his hands curl into fists and the muscles beneath his shirt flex. "I'm always concerned about misappropriations of resources and unforeseeable results."
Bryan isn't the only control freak in the Company, it would seem, and kindred spirits need…well, two.
Tilting his head to the side, as much as he can, Peter cracks another smile to Claudine. "Book on tape? Yeah, sure…" He laughs a bit, "I think I could handle that." At the question of music though, the dark-haired man wrinkles his nose and his smile grows a bit, "You'll probably laugh," He says with a crooked grin, "Back when I was in med school, I mostly listened to classical. I heard it helped with studying, right?" His brows raise, playfully amused at the memory. "But my big love, I get it from my dad." Weird, deja-vu talking about this. "Big Band stuff, Glenn Miller and all that?" He shakes his head, smiling still before staring up at the ceiling distantly. "He used to listen to it in his office all the time when I was little, I'd hear it coming out of there and steal his records…" His eyes close, that smile still present, "If you could dig up some of that, I'd love you for it." Peter laughs, shaking his head again as his eyes open, peering back at the good doctor.
"Oh, I have lots of it. I wanted to be a concert pianist at one point in my life but alas.." and she shows her hands, not really long and wiry. "Don't have the fingers for virtuoso. I have a bit of Shostakovich and Liszt in my office. It's what I listen to when I try to relax. It's kind of stressful and all, and hey, I listened to classical during med school as well. I think it's soothing and totally helps one calm and clear their mind.."
Then the idea strikes her. Maybe classical music would help somehow? The Mozart effect and all, right? She giggles impishly as she shakes her head and hrmms for a few moments, listening to the Big Band stuff. "Okay, so Mack the Knife it is," she says with a sage nod. "I'll bring it down next time I have the chance, 'kay?"
"I don't appropriate the resources. I just do what I'm told." Odessa shrugs and peers back into Peter's room. "Doctor Salonga and I will hold him as long as we're told to. And we'll keep him healthy."
"Don't we all."
Bryan grunts out answer as he walks down the hall, his leather-soled shoes sounding softly on the concrete. He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, curling the right around two pills that reside there. As he continues toward and through the door, he curls that hand tighter and tighter, gritting his teeth.
Peter nods once, smiling up to Claudine. Hey, she does have a personality under all that clinical behavior after all. Maybe it won't be so bad, getting treated here. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good." His agreement is affirmed with another nod, though his eyes do flit curiously towards the others watching by the large observation window. Who is that guy anyway? Doesn't look like a doctor… "Oh, hey, Claudine?" Peter's brows raise, a hopeful expression on his face. "Um, when do you think… I might be able to get out of these?" He motions with his hands again, moving the restraints. "I mean, I'm not trying to be over-eager, but… to be honest," He smiles, feeling a bit more open with her now, "It sucks."
Claudine looks over towards the windows and peers at Bryan for a few moments before shaking her head. She then looks over to Odessa, raising her brows a little as she lets a little mental conversation take place, wanting to know if Peter can be freed from his restraints. "Let me speak it over with your other PCP…" she says with a warm smile while patting his hand gently before she steps outside the window and mutters softly.
"I think the restraints are a bit of overkill. My own observations confirm that he's suffering from severe amnesia. How about we keep him on sedation and the Haitian pills to suppress his powers? Our training would let us easily overwhelm him without his abilities.." she says in a soft whispers, so only Odessa can hear.
"The restraints aren't overkill. He's Peter Petrelli, Claudine. He could still manifest again at any time and decide to bring this building down on top of our heads." All the same, she casts a sympathetic glance toward him. "Fine. But only while we're both around, and while he's on the suppressants."
Through the glass, Claudine and Odessa can see Peter remaining as still as a corpse, eyes focused up on one of the hairline cracks in the ceiling, simply watching it with a distant expression, as if his mind is somewhere else, thinking up something to occupy his time in restraint.
"Fine, let's both go in then. I know he might manifest, but with his powers dormant, we both know I can knock him out but with a thought. Either way, it's better that we do it before he charms some nurse into doing it for him. At least we're here now…"
Or maybe a bit more than that. It'd still be a struggle for sure, but then again, the good doctor is slightly overconfident in her abilities, at least against a newly manifested Evolved, which might be the case for Peter. Who knows? Either way, Claudine forces a smile to her lips as she heads back into the room and smiles warmly.
"I guess we can release those, if only temporarily. When either I or your other PCP is here…"
Watching hopefully as Claudine comes back in, Peter looks up in expectance of denial once she returns, but it's the welcome news of actually being able to be freed from the restraints that have kept him so unable to entertain himself. "Really?" He smiles, warmly, "T-that's, that's fantastic!" Peter seems enthusiastic about the news, wringing one wrist around in anticipation. "I guess that means I might have to request you to come down here a bit more often." Peter grins, amused, "Feel like watching some movies?" He asks, laughing to himself as he shakes his head. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, I feel… I don't know, better.
"We'll see how busy I am. I do have other patients after all," she says matter of factly, letting out a soft chuckle under her breath as she heads on over and loosens the restraints. "Stop fidgeting, it'll be easier if you don't fidget," she says firmly and resolutely before eventually getting him out, one arm at a time. Huzzah! And soon enough he's free.
"Besides, Mr. Petrelli, there are lots of cute nurses. Wouldn't you rather share their company?"
Peter lets his eyes drift up to Claudine, then towards the door, then back again as his wrist restraints are undone. "I don't see any of them in here right now," He says with a crooked, perhaps teasing smile. "Besides," Once his wrist restraints are undone, Peter raises his arms up above his head with a luxurious sigh, "You seem like a good person, and I am supposed to spend time with you, right?" His smile fades for a moment as he watches Claudine work on his chest restraint. "Sorry if I'm being a little strange, being cooped up down here… You know." It makes you a retard with the ladies. Good one Pete, hitting on your psychiatrist.
So she can now add Stockholm Syndrome to his list of derangements. A soft chuckle escapes from her lips as she shakes her head a little, undoing the chest restraint and then the ankle restraints. She might as well let him get some movement, even if it's bed. She doesn't want his muscles to atrophy after all.
"Well aren't you a charmer?" she says with a hearty laugh, easing back down into the chair as she leans back and crosses her legs to get a tad bit more comfortable. "Well, I suppose I can linger here for a bit longer before I have to tie you up again." And her cheeks flush, a bright tinge of red on her cheeks. "Funny, I usually don't say that till the third date!"
Finally let out of his restraints, Peter sits up in the bed, then swings his legs over the side opposite of where Claudine stands. At her comment, he looks back over his shoulder and laughs, somewhat awkwardly, shaking his head, "I had a girlfriend once, talked like that." He admits with a playful tone of voice, "Best be careful with you." He adds, teasingly, bare feet touching down uneasily on the cold concrete floor. He gives a shiver at the cold, shoulders rolling. For as much as he wants to walk around, Peter soon finds himself having difficulty standing, having been through what he has, and having been in bed for days, it's not much of a surprise. One foot in front of another, hand on the railing of his bed, Peter starts to take baby steps, looking for all his worth like an awkward toddler just learning to walk. My legs feel worse than the rest of me does, this aching just won't stop.
Peter looks back over to Claudine, tilting his head to the side as he manages his way around the bed and over towards her. "I feel a little silly, shuffling around in my bare feet." Peter looks down, then back up again, "Think you can add slippers to my list of demands?" Even as a prisoner, it seems Peter somehow manages to get what he asks for.
Claudine eases on up, getting ready to catch him if need be. She knows he hasn't walked in several days and so that could be disastrous. Who knows? Trauma might make him manifest again and that would just be bad. Odessa would give a major I told you so and that's the last thing she wants. She shakes her head as she continues to watch him, snickering with a bit of amusement.
"Don't push your luck, Mr. Petrelli. I will be saying no soon, so consider slippers your final request. It's not like you'd get this treatment all the time after all. But seriously, is everything okay? Pain scale on 1-10? Any dizziness? Nausea? Vertigo?"
"All of the above?" Peter notes with a crooked smile, "Like I told the other doctor that came in here," He motions with one hand towards the door, now that he can, "I've been feeling achy since I woke up. Maybe it's from laying down, m'not sure." Resting his weight on the bedside rail, Peter's expression grows distant for a bit. "It comes and goes," His eyes lift back up to Claudine, "I've been getting headaches too, sometimes they're mild, sometimes they're worse." His gaze soon turns down to a small paper cup by his bedside. Come to think of it… "It's been after medication, actually." His brow tenses, and Peter looks back over to Claudine. "That handful of pills I'm taking every six hours? It's usually the worst right after, the aches, the pains? What exactly is all that, anyway?" There's a puzzled look, can't be antibiotics, I don't have an infection. Mood elevators? Do they have me on psyche drugs?
"It's quite simple, actually; your body is still recovering from your accident, so aches and pains are normal. I'll probably up your dose of pain killers, I didn't want to damage your liver so we've been giving you small doses. That means I need to up your dose. I apologize, but I'll make note of it." Of course it's a bold faced lie, but come on, she's an agent for the Company. These types of things are easily said now as she motions for him to lie back in bed.
"Why don't you lay back down? You haven't been up and moving, so your body is getting use to the redistribution of blood in your body. I'll make sure to bring down something to make sure your blood circulation in your legs is all right. The fact that you've been bedridden for the past couple of days would cause that ache in your legs…"
"Yeah… yeah I guess." Peter holds on hand to his head, looking a bit dizzy as he climbs back up and settles onto the bed. "You're probably right," Who am I to diagnose anything, look where I am, I'm out of my mind. Seeming a bit crestfallen despite his newfound freedom, Peter looks up to Claudine with a rueful expression. "Do I have to go under the restraints again?" His brows tense and push together, "I mean, maybe I could just have them off for a little bit, I'll lay down, I just…" I'm in no hurry to be tied down again. "I like the space."
"Like I said, you don't have to be restrained as long as I'm here, so I guess I can stay longer. It's either talk to you or cuddle up to some reality television back at my apartment," she says with a wry grin before chuckling softly as she eases back down onto the seat. "I know you want to enjoy your freedom for a bit, so who am I to take that away from you?"
"Thanks." Peter says quietly, laying back down on the bed now that he doesn't have the fear of being strapped down once he does, "I'll be honest," His eyes drift back over to look at Claudine, "When I first met you, I don't think I really trusted you. I felt… I dunno, anxious. Maybe that's the meds working?" He laughs awkwardly again, closing his eyes as he lays there on the bed, hands folded behind his head, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. "I guess you've opened up a bit more since then, it's nice. I don't really feel like I'm the only one giving now, so…" Peter smirks, "Maybe I can start telling you about the things people will think I'm crazy for believing."
"We're all a little crazy, Mr. Petrelli. Some psychoses just have names, while others don't.." she says with a hearty chuckle before crossing her legs as she eases back down in the chair by his bedside to get a bit more comfortable. "But I'm your doctor, and your counselor. I would hope that you can open up to me," she says firmly and resolutely.
"I guess," Peter notes dismissively, turning his head to look back at Claudine. "I've been having these dreams — Not since I've been here, but before?" One brow raises, "It started when I was taking care of one of my hospice patience, Charles Deveaux…" Peter shakes his head slowly, fondly, looking back up to the tiny cracks in the ceiling. "I had this stupid dream that I could fly, that I was soaring around the city… It felt so real," A sigh, strained and frustrated. "I can't believe I acted out on it. I got reading all this crazy new-age science fiction stuff." He grows quiet for a moment, shaking his head, "I got my brother wrapped up in it. He didn't believe me, he didn't think I could do it… and I was…" God, I'm so stupid. "I was so headstrong that I almost got myself killed trying to prove it to him. This book I was reading filled my head with all sorts of stupid ideas." Peter grimaces, then looks back to Claudine. "It all felt so real."
"You know, dreams can often be really real. Dreams where one flies for instance often comes with feelings of euphoria, utter joy, ecstasy even. If you were flying with ease, then it means you're usually on top of a situation, and think the sky is the limit. Your control over your flight in your dream, some say, is representative of your own control over your own path, your own destiny. At least, that's what a Freudian would say," she says with a warm smile, smiling warmly as she reaches out and pats his hand gently before easing back. "Just make sure you don't try it again, I wouldn't recommend it." Claudine quips with a wink in the end.
Peter nods, smiling a bit despite himself at the last bit. She's given him a fair amount of food for thought, as he stares up at the ceiling, "Maybe you're right," He says quietly, "Maybe I was finally in control, and…" He smirks, bitterly, "Look at where I am now." Peter closes his eyes, breathing a heavy sigh before finally looking back to Claudine, "Maybe… I just can't handle it, being in charge? Maybe that's all I ever really needed, was to just follow someone else." He shakes his head, eyes closing, "My mom was right, Nathan's the born leader of the family…"
"Oh pshaw, if I thought that way I wouldn't be a doctor. I'm the second to youngest of eight children, so don't you even get me started on feeling in the shadow of older brothers. I've got six of them, at least you only have one." she says firmly and resolutely, snickering the entire time while running her fingers through her hair. "Everyone makes their own path, you just have to find your own."
Peter smiles, shaking his head, "One brother, yeah…" His brows furrow together, "He just casts a really big shadow." Peter grows silent at that, closing his eyes and shaking his head. It's only when Claudine speaks of finding his path that he turns to look at her again, seeming somewhat mournful at the topic. "I thought i had," he begins, tiredly. "I thought I did find my path — First in being a doctor against my father's will. Then… then by those dreams," Peter looks away, a bitter expression darkening his face. "I thought I was special. I thought I was different… that…" He brings his hands up to his face, sighing through his fingers. "I thought I was going to make a difference."
"I'm sure you will. It just takes time. You're still young, you've got plenty of time to make a different. Don't be in such a rush, you'll just end up confused.." she says matter of factly, shrugging her shoulders while tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ears while crossing her legs once more to get a tad bit more comfortable. "Chin up, Mr. Petrelli!"
Laughing, Peter looks back over to Claudine, his somber mood lifting, "That's easy for you to say," He notes with a motion of his head to the room, "You're the one in the chair, not the one behind the glass." With that, Peter breathes out a bit of a sigh, closing his eyes and resting his head back down against the pillow. "I guess… it's easy to tell someone to look up, when you aren't in their position." Thoughtfully growing quiet, Peter finally looks back to Claudine again. "Thank you," He says quietly, "for staying here, listening, just… being available." A faint smile crosses his lips, "It means a lot to me. Job or not."
"I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I didn't listen." she replies with a warm smile, sighing a little while stretching her arms into the air. "And I suppose you're right, if our roles were reversed, then I'd probably be saying the same thing you are. But then again, maybe not. Your brother has achieved much, yes, that much is true, but who knows what you are capable of? Don't doubt yourself and I'm sure you'll be just as famous as your brother, if not more so."
"Famous for being a nutjob." Peter laughs ruefully, breathing out a heavy and tired sigh. He seems tired enough to sleep, it's hard to tell how long he'd been away for by the time Claudine came into his cell this morning. After a short time, though, Peter looks back over to her with a grin, "I suppose that means if I wanted to sleep on my side, you'd have to be in here?" One brow raises, and he looks out the glass window to the other doctors, then back again. "Don't think they'd like that much," He adds, smirking slightly as his meaning isn't quite what he had said. "Guess I'll be strapped in for the remainder then. Not too tight though, alright?" Peter raises his brows, laughing awkwardly as he considers what Claudine had said again. "I've never wanted fame," He admits quietly, "Just to help people."
"You're starting to get cheeky, Mr. Petrelli.." she warns, grinning wryly as she motions for him to lay on his back. Once he's all settled she'll start putting on the restraints again, just as tight. As charming as he is, she still has her orders and she's ever the loyal Company doctor after all. "You'll get your chance… eventually," she says as she finishes putting on the straps.
Peter looks up to Claudine, a somewhat intent expression on his face as she straps him up. After she speaks, Peter is silent for a time, and his eventual response comes in a low and hushed tone, "I will."
"Goodnight Mr. Petrelli. Sweet dreams." Claudine says with a warm smile while ruffling his hair playfully. She heads towards the door and smiles before turning out the lights, sighing as she steps out of his room.
 September 22nd: Taking a Risk |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 September 22nd: Double Salted |