Participants:
Scene Title | Regression |
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Synopsis | Peter awakens in a Company cell, but as Claudine and Bryan soon find out, his recollection of how he got there is foggy. |
Date | September 21st, 2008 |
Primatech Research: Cell Block B
The B-Block of Level 5 was the least damaged during the raid by PARIAH days ago. It is in this more secure wing of the facility that the newest aquisition of the company has been kept under lock and key, watched constantly for signs of improvement in his condition. Ever since he was recovered by Doctor Salonga on the streets outside of the Bronx facility, Peter Petrelli has been — remarkably — asleep.
After initial assessment by doctors indicated that he was suffering from some form of cellular degeneration, it became apparent that the confrontation between he and Sylar, which damaged several blocks of the city around the facility, had taxed his capabilities far beyond their limits, putting him into a coma-like state, which has only been further facilitated by the Company in order to keep Peter's unpredictable powers under sway. As of an hour ago, the doctors that monitor Mr. Petrelli's condition finally noticed internal mental activity, suggesting his impending awakening.
That was when Doctor Salonga received the call, and was finally granted permission to see Peter after he had been brought in. Despite the crew of medical staff analyzing his information and the security guards watching his cell, there is little other activity in the B-Wing. Through the reinforced glass of his cell, Claudine can see Peter strapped down to a bed, restraints on his wrists, ankles and waist keeping him held in place, while a slow IV drip keeps him hydrated. Machines kept in the cell with him monitor his respiration, heart-rate and brainwave patterns, making his cell look more like a hospital room than a prison.
There was so much that needed to be done. Claudine was busy, mainly dealing with her own wounds, then the other people's wounds. She sighs softly, her arm in a sling as she wasn't bitter at PARIAH before. This time, it's completely personal, considering the power they used while Elle and she held back on their powers.
As such, she received the call and comes into the cell, narrowing her eyes as she peers curiously towards Petrelli. A wry grin curls onto her lips before she shakes her head and takes a deep breath before stepping into the cell.
"So it seems our friend Mr. Gray is alive, and it seems he's the one who lead PARIAH members here. I hope you realize what you've done.." she says in a maternal chastising tone.'
There's not so much an immediate response from Peter where he lays on the bed, eyes closed partway. He's just barely on the verge of consciousness, head rolling to one side towards the beeping sound of the EKG that monitors his brainwaves, and much of Dr. Salonga's sarcasm is lost on him. He swallows, dryly, laying his head back again to stare up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused before they slowly close once more, "Who?" Is the first word out of Peter's mouth, spoken with a slur and a tired exhalation of breath. After a moment, he finally turns his head towards the opened door and Claudine, "Was…" He blinks his eyes several times, looking disoriented, "Was I in an accident?"
There's a bit of surprise on her features as she peers curiously towards Peter. She looks back towards the other doctors and raises her brows, doing a bit of communication before looking over at the brainwaves. She hrmms for a few moments, tapping her pencil on her clipboard for a few moments. Well isn't this an interesting development.
"You were in an accident of sorts, Mr. Petrelli. I'm Dr. Salonga, and I'm your PCP.."
Peter exhales a strained sigh, ready to move his arm when finally he realizes he's in restraints, "W-what…" His brow tenses, checking his other hand to see that one is tied down too. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Peter lays back down, no longer struggling against the restraints as his hands reflexively move open and closed. "W-where's Nathan?" He says with mild exasperation, looking over to Claudine again, "Did — You called him, right? Is he here? I mean…" Too many words, too much attempted motion, and Peter's world begins to spin in circles as he rests his head down again. "What happened?"
"Mr. Petrelli will be here eventually. He's a bit busy."
She's just making it up of course, but surely mommy knows considering her Company connections afterall. Claudine continues to hrmm for a few moments before taking a deep breath.
"So what's the last thing you remember?"
"Remember?" Peter stares up at the ceiling, looking confused. His eyes wander the cracks in the concrete, still not quite realizing the conditions of the room around him. Not only has his memory been scrambled by what happened, but his cognizent functions as well, he hasn't yet realized this looks nothing like a traditional hospital room. Struggling, Peter looks lost, a puzzled expression on his face as he finally affords Dr.Salonga a look again. "Nnh… I… I think," He tries to puzzle out what is going on, finally looking to the EKG, then over to the IV in his arm.
"I… I was up on the roof?" Peter's eyes fall back to the doctor again, "I… I made Nathan come out, to… to the alley, and," He looks from Claudine to the restraints, "Oh God, I jumped." Pieces fall into place, but the wrong ones, "Oh God I jumped and… I thought…" Fearfully, his gaze falls back on Claudine. "I remember falling."
There is a bit of surprise on her features. This has to be a memory from WAAAAAY back. Claudine makes notes as she looks back over to the other doctors and makes lots of notes. What a truly interesting development. "That is why you're here now, Mr. Petrelli. We have to make sure you're okay before we release you of course."
He looks away, more out of shame than anything else. "I…" He closes his eyes partway, jaw set, "I understand." Peter's eyes close the rest of the way, not struggling for a moment with his restraints as he realizes — at least in his own crippled understanding — why they're there: Because he's a danger to himself. His most powerful memories are of believing he could fly, and now he finds himself in a hospital after an "accident". The answer, to Peter, is clear enough.
He jumped, he fell, and he nearly died. Now, his mind races, loud enough for Claudine to hear without actively listening for it, Oh God, they've institutionalized me. They… they think I tried to commit suicide. Nathan, he… oh no his Campaign. Nathan…
Claudine, if anything, is a decent actress. She suppresses her own predatory smile as she takes a deep breath and pulls over a chair before beaming brightly towards him. "Mr. Petrelli, I have to make a confession. While I am your PCP, I am primarily a psychiatrist. Considering what happened, I hope you understand. Is everything all right with your life? Is there anything you'd like to share? I'm not here to judge, after all.."
This was insult to injury, "I don't need a shrink," Peter says defiantly, looking away from where Claudine had sat down, "I'm not crazy I…" There's a long, heavy pause, maybe I am… maybe Nathan was right. Finally, he speaks up again, "Everything's fine." Peter closes his eyes, straining another sigh as he keeps his head turned away, "I… When do I get to see my brother?" He must think I'm completely out of my mind. Maybe I am? Maybe Nathan was right all along…
"Mr. Petrelli, you did jump from a building.." she says with her soft maternal tone, remaining completely neutral. She sighs a little while scribbling a few more notes into her notepad while hrmming for a few moments. "He's a bit busy right now, but I'm sure he'll be here soon." Have to keep up the whole good doctor thing, after all.
Peter closes his eyes tightly, No. His hands close into tight fists for a moment, then relax again. "How…" He turns, looking back to Claudine as something comes to mind, "H-How long am I going to be here?" His eyes wander down along his restrained form, then back over to the doctor seated at his bedside. "I — H-how bad were the injuries? I… I don't feel hurt." There's a dry, anxious swallow, why does my head hurt so much, I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"You were quite lucky. You just suffered a severe concussion as you had something to break your fall.." she explains as she hrmms for a few moments, pursing her lips for a few moments. "If your head hurts, I can get you a Tylenol or anything up to a Vicodin. What would you say your pain is on a rating from 1-10?"
The hallway outside Peter's cel—…room is not much brighter than it was last night. Out of the shadows and into the frame made by the window that looks into the cell steps a tall, muscled man of African heritage. He narrows his eyes and folds his arms as he watches, but whether or not he can hear what is going on remains a mystery.
Swallowing dryly, Peter looks around the room, to the machinery he's hooked up to, then back down to where the IV is set into his forearm. "I… I don't know, six?" He narrows his eyes at the thought, "It feels, my head's just throbbing, like something inside wants to get out." He goes to move his hand to rub at the side of his head, only to struggle against his restraints, forgetfully. "My throat's dry…" He tries to swallow again, uncomfortably, "I feel terrible… it's like, aches. I feel like I have the flu, not a concussion…" Looking back to Claudine, Peter affords the woman a hesitant smile. "I… I really screwed up, didn't I?"
"I wouldn't exactly call jumping off a building a success, Mr. Petrelli.." Claudine replies with a hearty chuckle, smiling warmly as she takes a deep breath and motions for one of the doctors to come on in. "Give a small dose of vicodin and bring in some ice water for him.." she says and the other doctor nods. As far as they're concerned, she's in charge right now, and soon enough she turns back her attention to Peter. If she's purposely ignoring Bryan, who knows?
"Yeah…" Peter sighs, shaking his head where he lays, "H-Have," There's a very wary look in his eyes now, "Have you called my mom yet? She — I'm surprised she's not here." Peter eyes the glass window, finally, looking out towards the silhouettes of doctors moving around, and the looming silhouette of the muscular and bald-headed man in the dim lighting. Peter's eyes narrow, and he looks for all his worth just a bit confused, this is weird, it's like… what kind've hospital is this? His eyes flit back to Claudine again, a worried expression on his face. "Is… is this a mental hospital? I mean, a-am I…" Did they put me away?
"You're just in a different ward, Mr. Petrelli.." she says matter-of-factly, looking over to Bryan and shaking her head a bit. The whole hospital setup thing could be kept up if it wasn't for the menacing older man. "I hope you understand that we have to keep you in a suicide ward for a bit, considering the circumstances which lead you to our care."
That was what he was worried about, confirmation on the restraints. Peter closes his eyes, nodding very slowly with a mournful expression dawning over his face. His eyes focus up at the ceiling, a distant stare lingering in them as he grows silent. I've lost it. I can't fly, I… why was I so hell-bent on proving I could. It was just a dream, I… I'm nothing. I'm just… Peter finally closes his eyes, just after a pair of tears roll down either side of his face towards the pillow.
Of course she cant just say she knows what he's thinking. That would give her away. So, Claudine instead reaches out and pats his hand gently while offering a reassuring smile. "It'll be all right, Mr. Petrelli. You're in good care, so no need to worry, okay?"
"Y-yeah," Peter shakes his head again, "Yeah I…" Something nags at the back of Peter's mind, "I know." For a short while, he stares blankly up at the ceiling, just remaining quiet, even while the doctor from earlier comes through the open door, carrying with him a small paper cup containing a pair of pills, setting that down on the tray at Peter's bedside along with a glass of water. On his departure, Peter turns to look back at Doctor Salonga, his brows tensed, "When… when you came in here," His eyes wander over the long-haired woman, as if searching for something. "What did you mean?" Claudine's haste to speak to Peter may have given the first crack in the foundation of deceit. "Who's Mr.Gray?" His eyes narrow, looking puzzled, "I… What was it you said?"
"Mister Gray," intones the man from the hall in a voice loud enough to carry through the open door, "is a man who serves as a threat to your brother's campaign. PARIAH is a group aimed at keeping him out of office by any means necessary."
FACEPALM. Claudine already had an answer for that and then Bryce had to come in. She sighs and wrinkles her nose a little, remaining quiet for now while taking a deep breath before just scribbling down a few things.
Peter's eyes flit over towards the door, looking at Bryan with a confused expression. He tries to process everything, looking momentarily baffled at the term PARIAH used in the way it is, "That…" Why does that sound familiar? PARIAH? Where have I heard that before? "They're, what…" He looks to Doctor Salonga for reassurance, "Liberals or something?" He squints, not understanding entirely, "How… how does that have anything to do with me? With… with what I did?" Wait, what did she say about mutual friend? "I don't understand…"
Bryan immediately hears Claudine's voice. He doesn't remember anything. His memory only goes a few years back.
The good doctor lets out a soft chuckle under her breath as she sighs and takes a deep breath. "Well, it is a political group. They just don't like your brother very much, but you don't have to worry about them too much. Just worry about getting better, okay?"
Peter looks over to Doctor Salonga again, affording her at least a meager smile, "Nathan has a hard time making friends," He says somewhat weakly, "guess that comes with the territory." His eyes close partway, and he looks down at the restraints, "Can…" He eyes Claudine, then shakes his head, reconsidering. "Can I have some time to myself for a little while? I… I really think I should just lie down." Peter's eyes once more wander to search the ceiling.
"I… I think I just need to clear my head."
September 21st: A Lesson Not Learned |
September 21st: Imagine |