Participants:
| Scene Title | Pity Party Pie |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Brian and Helena have a pity party. There is also pie. |
| Date | November 28, 2008 |
Once upon a time, the New York Public Library was one of the most important libraries in America. The system, of which this branch was the center, was among the foremost lending libraries /and/ research libraries in the world.
The bomb changed that, as it changed so much else.
By virtue of distance, the library building was not demolished entirely, like so many others north of it; however, the walls on its northern side have been badly damaged, and their stability is suspect. The interior is a shambles, tattered books strewn about the chambers and halls, many shelves pulled over. Some have even been pulled apart; piles of char in some corners suggest some of their pieces, as well as some of the books, have been used to fuel fires for people who sought shelter here in the past.
In the two years since the bomb, the library — despite being one of the icons of New York City — has been left to decay. The wind whistles through shattered windows, broken by either the blast-front or subsequent vandals, carrying dust and debris in with it. Rats, cats, and stray dogs often seek shelter within its walls, especially on cold nights. Between the fear of radiation and the lack of funds, recovery of the library is on indefinite hiatus; this place, too, has been forgotten.
It's been pretty solemn in the library… Sadness kind of pushes down on everyone present, though it seems to emanate from a certain part of the library. The closer you get to the room, the quieter it gets. The epicenter is the room Brian is staying in. After finally gathering all his duplicates in, the lone young man lays on a mattress with his hands limply at his sides. Staring straight up at the ceiling. A blanket is loosely on top of him.
People have stayed with him, but right now, it's just him. It is evident from his eyes that he has been crying, though right now he stays perfectly still.
There's a rap of knuckles on the door, and in comes Helena. She's carrying what appears to be a flat, square bakery box, along with a couple of plastic sporks. "Brian?" she calls softly to get his attention. "Hey. Can I come in?"
His head rolls to view her coming in. His mind tells his lips to make a smile, but nothing comes of said command. His expressions highlight those of someone lost and confused in a fog. "Yeah." He murmurs weakly, grey eyes watching her as if through a haze. "I can't find my bible.." He nigh whispers. Of course, said book is at his feet, but he hasn't thought to actually sit up to look for it. Not only has it pained his heart but the death of his double has caused him to be rather sick. He is pale, and looks very worn out.
Helena's eyes dart to the bible, and she moves to sit by his cot, setting down the box and reaching for the book instead. Absently she thumbs along the pages, opens it, and finds a passage she's fond of: "And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." After reading aloud in a soft voice, she closes it and places the bible on his chest, watching him with a careful expression. "I brought pie."
Oh. Brian makes no real reaction when she finds the bible, his eyes simply follow her lazily. He lays there while she reads and tilts his head back. His hand comes up and weakly hugs the book to his chest. "Thank you." He manages, pointing to the other side of the room where other gifts and well wishing presents have been laid. "I can't eat right now.. I don't feel good. But I promise I will when I'm not so sick."
Helena glances sidelong. "This is really good pie." she says. "Pumpkin." But she doesn't push. Instead, softly, "I'm going to go talk to the other Peter."
Those sad grey eyes fall down to the pie in question. "I.. I want to. I just.. don't feel good." He explains before his face goes completely emotionless. That name already. For a moment he just lays still, watching her. "I'll go with you."
"My Peter - you need to know, the real Peter would never have done that. Something's wrong." It's important for Helena that Brian understand that. "But I want you to know that I still think merging them is the answer, though if it comes down to it, I'll put my lot in with killing that one. Even if…" she trails off.
"It's the same person Hel.." He says weakly, slowly trying to sit up. "Maybe he has some deep issues that is making him crazy.. But.. he committed murder, Helena. That means part of Peter.. Your Peter is not the person you think he is. I don't want you approaching him alone, Hel." Brian says softly, placing his hands in his lap.
Helena shakes her head. "Something's wrong." she insists. "The two Peters are like completely different people. Have any of your duplicates ever wanted to kill the others? And why has he only split in two? His ability's gone haywire." She nods. "I do want you to come with me. I want to tell him that they need to merge, or the other one has to be killed. If you're there, you can answer his questions." A pause. "He won't hurt you."
Brian simply stares at her for a longt moment. "No.. That's what I don't understand. My duplicates aren't different people. It's just me, my thoughts, and my brain, in several bodies. No different personalities, no arguments.. That's why it's so weird." Brian says softly, raising up a hand to wipe away something at his eye. He nods when she says she wants him to come. "I'm not afraid.." Brian murmurs softly. Though he won't guarantee that he will not hurt Peter. But they can cross that bridge when they come to it.
"So even with what he did to you…just because you're here, doesn't mean he would be. Because he's different." Helena pulls her knees to her chest. "You have to promise you won't try to hurt him. He's going to help us. I know it."
Damnit. "He killed me." Brian says in response. That seems to hit a sensitive chord, as his body shakes once and he imitates Helena's motion to hug his knees to his chest. Though he buries his face in his knees. Maybe he's tired, maybe he doesn't want her to see him weeping. Again.
"The other one killed you." she says quietly. "Not him."
He doesn't respond to that. She won't see things the way he does. No use in trying to win her over to his side of thinking. Besides he is lacking in the department of ambition right now. His head is in his knees and he is a pathetic picture. "Okay.." He says weakly.
Helena is satisfied enough with that. So now it's onto the next thing. "You've got to eat." she says gently. "You have to keep your strength up. Please." She resorts to unfair play. "For me?"
Bringing his head out of his knees and wipes his wrist across his face to dry the tears. "Yeah." He murmurs back with a sigh. "I don't feel like I have any strength to kee up." With that he reaches out for the pie. "Where did you get this?"
"Bakery." Helena says, and holds out one of the two sporks. "We're sharing. Hope you don't mind. If you decide you want something more substantial, we can do that."
The spork is received with a gently muttered thanks. Then nods. "I'll share anything with you." He says softly. "Except for a steak. I love steak." Was that an attempt at a joke? Possibly. The spork goes in and the piece of pie ever so slowly makes its way to his mouth. Nigh tasteless. Dying sucks.
Helena takes a bite too, and hers is a much happier reaction. Mentally, she sets a clock: How Long To Indulge Brian With This Dying Duplicate Thing.
Days. Weeks. Months. A lifetime. Who knows, not many others can have what it feels like to fully die yet still live. Continuing to eat the man stays silent. Though he doesn't eat much after half a piece he lays the spork down. "When will we go to see him?"
"I sent him a message at our contact point." Helena says quietly. "So we may go out tonight to see if he'll show…if you can manage it."
No he can't. "Of course I can." Stretching out his legs the man leans back a little bit on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows. "He has a lot of powers.. He can regenerate. How can you kill someone who can regenerate?"
"Keep him down with people who keep him from regenerating, I suppose." says Helena. "Or cut off their head. Hard to regenerate when that's missing."
"Cut off his head." That is stored away. He'll have to get something very sharp. "So if you can't get them to remerge you'll have to cut off his head? Won't that be difficult for you?" Brian asks softly with a tilt of his head.
"Somebody will." says Helena. "Maybe it'll be me. I'll…deal with it, if it happens." She looks down at her hands.
Somebody will. "I hope you don't have to go through that.." Brian says softly bringing up one hand to rest on her own hand for a moment. "I.." The young man pauses. "Thank you for staying with me, Hel."
Helena nods a bit. "You're welcome." she says. "It kills me that this happened to you. I don't think I can say I'm sorry enough."
"I.. I wish I could explain to you how it feels. It's like.. Have you ever had anyone close to you die? It's like that.. but worse. I don't know if that's selfish or what." A shrug of his shoulders. "I'll try not to let it affect my performance.."
Helena nods. "I have." she says, but doesn't offer details. "And yeah, me too. The world doesn't stop because you lose someone. Which is as hard to say as it is to hear, believe me."
"It doesn't sound like it's very hard for you to say." Responding in that vintage soft voice that he has been grown so familiar with since he was killed. "I just need a little time. I think. Maybe after a little time, everything will be fine."
Helena grimaces at that, and scoops another sporkful of pie into her mouth. "You have to get behind the principle before you can say it honestly. It took me a while. I miss my mom, but I can't let missing her stop me from looking ahead."
"Don't I get a two weeks grieving time? Isn't that standard?" Brian asks with a tiny bit of mirth in his voice. He frowns lightly. "I'm sorry about your mom, Hel." The young man says, trying to make it soothing.
"It was a while ago. Don't worry about it." Helena says, reaching out to pat Brian gently on the arm. "The place I'm going to take you to meet up with the other Peter? It's kind of special to me. I don't bring a lot of people there if I can help it."
"So does that make me special?" A sad smile is given to her. "What is it?" Brian asks quietly.
Helena grins. "Like a boy who needs a helmet." she teases, and then, "It's a rooftop. It's pretty wrecked, but it's kind of beautiful. A lot has happened there for me."
"You're not allowed to make fun of me. I just died." He says with the weakest of smirks as he tries to make himself comofortable once again on his bed. The bible is once again clutched to his chest and the blanket pulled up slowly. "I won't tell anyone about it.."
"I am especially allowed to make fun of you. You need making fun of." is Helena's gently teasing reply. "Get you out of the rut."
"It's not a rut, it's a fucking crater." Brian nearly groans. Sitting up again, he gives her a bleary look. Then he shifts himself on the bed wrap around an arm around her shoulders. "Thanks again Hel.." He says softly. "I think I'm going to try to sleep.. you don't have to leave, but I don't think I'll be much company." He hugs her closely for a moment.
Helena pats him gently on the back and rises. "Okay." she says. "I'll come wake you if I get a contact ping." With that, she rises - taking the pie with her - and slips out the door.
 November 28th: Unofficial Business |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 November 28th: Muster |