Participants:
| Scene Title | Until You Believe It Too |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cat tries to convince Maya of something. |
| Date | August 2, 2009 |
Village Renaissance Building, 4th Floor Safehouse
The floors here on the fourth level of the Village Renaissance Building at 14 East 4th Street are of polished grey marble and the smooth walls are painted a cream color. Four corridors with four apartments each are found here, with stairwells at the front and back and elevators centrally placed in each corridor. The elevators have buttons for the first three floors visible, and control panels requiring both key and keycard to open.
The apartment doors, made from sturdy pine, are operated by keycards only on this floor. Like the second and third floors, they're numbered 401-416.
But that's where the similarity ends. This floor isn't for rental to the general public. It's a place reserved for temporary stays by whomever the person who lives on the top floor chooses to give sanctuary.
It's a safehouse of the Ferrymen, operated by a member of Phoenix, using the cover of musician's eccentricities to explain away the motley crew of folks who might come and go if anyone should ask.
On this rainy Sunday afternoon in Nuked York City, Cat is not on the roof. She is instead stepping out of an elevator on the fourth floor and headed for the unit Maya and Claire occupy. There is cause for concern, given what she's been told of La Latina's ability, and disquiet over not yet having located Alejandro, but here she is just the same. One hand lifts and makes contact with the door, knocking thrice.
Then Cat waits outside, clad casually in shorts and a t-shirt featuring the image of Carlos Santana.
Maya is in her apartment. She's done some shopping, she's gotten her new paperwork, and now it's just a matter of getting things back into the flow of life. She picked up a small radio, and has it playing, but when there's a knock at the door, she turns it down, and heads for the door, before opening it up. "Hey there!"
"Hola," Cat begins, face displaying the beginnings of a smile. There's consideration of switching into Maya's native tongue and gaining an appreciation of whatever dialect she speaks to contrast with her school-learned Castilian, but she puts it aside for now. "We've only talked the one time," she goes on, "so I've come to see how you're settling in, Maya."
The Dominican native moves to invite Cat in, stepping back and motioning the other woman into the apartment. "It's going pretty good. The things here in this building and the people are just incredible. I have papers now!" She sounds quite pleased about that.
"Excellent," Cat replies affably as she steps inside so the door can be closed after her. "There are a number of places similar to mine around the city, but comfort of this nature is rare in them. I've just got the resources to make them as they are." Maya is faced while she speaks.
There's a smile. "Well, with everything that's going on in my life lately…a little comfort is kind of nice. I appreciate it. It's nice to not be running around all crazy." She indicates her counter. "Can I get you some tea? Some coffee?"
"Si," Cat answers then. "Cafe', por favor. Con leche y azucar." Her backside leans a bit against the counter as she adds "Muchas gracias." It's a decent accent, nearly flawless, save for the Angla's inability to roll r's in quite the exact way.
Maya nods, and moves to pour Cat a coffee, and add her milk and sugar. It's easy enough for her; it is her native language, after all. She brings back the cup, offering it to her. "Por nada." She smiles. "The woman who gave me the papers said I had to talk someone with the Ferryman to make them real electronically. Can you help me with that?"
"Easily," Cat replies, as she pulls out an iPhone from her pocket. She brings up the screen to send a text message and taps the name Wireless into the To field, then Electronic Identification Records on the subject line. There's no need to enter her own name, Hana will recognize it as coming from her. But Cat pauses here to ask "What name and details are on the documents?" She'll need those for the proper items to be created.
"Maria Hernandez" answers Maya. "Something close enough to mine, you know? There hasn't been any news about my brother, has there?" She doubts it but it never hurts to ask.
"Sadly not, Maria," Cat replies, finding it better to address the woman by the name on her false papers to foster the habit of using it and reduce chances of slips. "I wish I could tell you better news, but we're still looking." She lifts the cup and blows on it gently to reduce the heat a little while speaking.
"Do you have your documents with you? I need the date of birth, social security number, and other information on it too," she explains.
The Latina moves over to another part of the counter, and then takes out the folder that Minea gave to her, before bringing it back and handing it over to Cat for her inspection. "The papers."
"Gracias," she offers, holding the documents in one hand and entering the data from it onto the message with fingers on the other. When Cat has it all, she pressed send and hands the documents back, then puts the device away. "That should do it," she tells La Latina, "we know a friendly technopath." Her coffee cup is lifted again, she blows across it lightly, then takes a gentle sip.
She looks a little lost, and then shakes her head. "You say that so easy. I don't think I could ever be so easy with all this. I just want to forget it's there. Go back to a normal life."
"You're referring to what happens when you get upset?" Cat asks gently, her eyes on the woman's face to study it without judgment, to make eye contact.
Frown. That's a definite frown. Well, she should have expected as much. "I suppose Elisabeth told you about all that?" It has to be. She's the only one that Maya told, and her face shows that she's none too happy about it making the rounds.
"She's a good friend," Cat explains, "who wouldn't let me be in the dark. She has her concerns, I won't pretend otherwise. But I tell you honestly I'm not concerned. I believe you're in control of what could happen. If I didn't believe that, Maria Hernandez, you wouldn't be here." It's not the first time she's taken such a leap. With Delilah to a lesser extent, and surely with Peter Petrelli while he was far more dangerous in potential.
But the conversation brings her to a question, one soon given voice. "Do you believe in yourself, Maria?"
Brown hair tousles a bit as she shakes her head. "Don't be so sure. I'm not. I don't…want to hurt anyone. I just want to be rid of this. But I don't know how to. I'll just stay out of people's way, and then no one will get hurt."
Her eyes linger on La Latina for a moment while the reply is framed. "There may be a way to do so, Maria. I'll look into it. But as with most things, there are no guarantees. The main thing, as I see it, is to believe in yourself, the power of your own will, knowing what could happen." She pauses there, composing thoughts.
"Your experience is partly unknown to me. Some abilities are mostly blessing. Some are both blessing and curse, like mine. It's a rare thing for someone to have one viewed by the holder as only curse." She, by her words, neither agrees nor disagrees.
"My ability is mine, and I like it, disadvantages aside. That's my experience, and I won't presume to speak about yours, I don't know it firsthand through having it."
Maya looks upset. A bit upset, but she's a fiery, passionate person, and it's showing. "And what's your "ability"? How many people did it kill? You don't want to know how many mine has." She wants to cry, and she clenches her hands at her side to rein it back, hold it in.
"I never forget," Cat replies simply. Maybe Maya will have some understanding of how that can be a burden as well as a benefit, maybe not, but there it is. Maya's face is studied, the upset noticed. The clenching of hands, but there's no panic in her voice.
Her tone is quiet, meant to be calming. "I see your struggle, and I see the good in you, Maria. You're stronger than the ability you hold, and that's the most important thing. To know and believe that."
She gets the control after a moment, looking back. "You don't know that. If that were true, there wouldn't be anyone dead. It was my brother who held back the blackness inside. Now that he's gone, there's no way to stop it if it starts."
"I believe you're stronger than you know, Maria," Cat replies with confidence. She won't let on any doubt on the matter, because she knows very well doubt can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sometimes a person just needs to hear it said again and again until she herself accepts it as truth. "When you feel it start to rise, say it to yourself over and over that you're stronger than your capability, you rule it and won't let it rule you."
"I believe in you, and will go on believing in you, and tell you so until you believe it too," Cat asserts.
Maya…or Maria…nods once. "We'll see. Thank you for your help, Cat. But I think—I think I would like to be alone for a little bit." Because she's not sure she won't cry, and she doesn't want anyone there if that happens.
"You're very welcome," Cat replies. She drinks the rest of her coffee and sets the empty mug down, then makes her way out of the unit. "I'll visit again soon." Seconds later she's on the door's other side without a trace of worry, considering other items of business. Like briefing Claire and meeting the newest guest, Miss Peyton Whitney.