Participants:
| Scene Title | What Ails You |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | When Peter comes to heal Ash's injuries sustained on the attack on Biomere, Rupert Carmichael tags along to deliver what seems to be words of encouragement, and Ash has a surprising piece of information left behind for Peter… |
| Date | July 12, 2010 |
It's been a long few days since the encounter at the Biomere building on Manhattan, four long days for one of the Messiah members sent on that raid. Beneath the noisy surface of the Howland Hook factory grounds, in the concrete tunnels of Messiah's base of operations, one of those very operatives is the man that Messiah's leader intends on visiting.
However, it won't be alone.
Through the doorway leading into the training room that Ashley Williams has set up in one of the vacant storage rooms, Peter Petrelli's appearance in his paramedic uniform is an expected one, Ash had been told that once Peter was free he'd be coming to assess the soldier's injuries. But the short and wiry man at Peter's side is the wild-card in all of this. Dipping his head into a silent nod of introduction, Rupert Carmichael is an unlikely face to be seen around these parts.
Typically only heard from, rather than seen, Messiah's lead tactician makes a slow entrance behind Peter, staying quiet as he wanders around the training facility.
Ash is in the workout room, and he's definiltye not taking the doctor's orders right now, not with the way he's beating the ever living tar out of one of the punching bags he aquired. They're strung up from girders or beams in teh cieling, and this one is not having a good day. Solid blows, Ash's real strength being let loose on the bags, speed too, though he's favoring his right foot. There's blood on the floor from wher eit's leaking through the stitches, and through the bandaging on his foot. There's slices on his forarms, and a couple on his shoulder, stitched, but also leaking bloody plasma as he works out.
He's in a simple black tank top, and black gi pants, a black belt around his waist with red figures on it, signifying his martial arts degree that he reached in his past life, before Moab, before the bomb. He doesn't hear Peter and Rupert enter, huffing softly in between blows, sweat pouring down his face as punches and kicks fly hard into the bag before him.
"I should let you get a staph infection," is Peter's introduction, arms crossing over his chest, "just to teach you a lesson." It's all sarcasm, judging from his tone on the crooked cast of his lips — or at least that's what the uninitiated would assume. Taking a few meandering steps towards Ash, Peter shakes his head from side to side and offers an askance look to Rupert, who is — for reasons only Rupert could understand — inspecting one of the bench press stations with piqued interest.
Looking back to Ash, Peter furrows his brows and looks down to the blood on the floor. "You know, eventually everyone's gonna' call you on the tough guy act, especially if you black out from blood loss. I heard you didn't take the Vicodin I left for you?" There's a crease of Peter's brows as he looks to the punching bag, then back to Ash with one brow raised expectantly.
Ash looks down at his foot and hmmmms softly before his eyes tilt back upwards. "Except I probably wouldn't. I eat healthy. I keep healthy. I clean it out thouroughly with sterilized items." He offers a slight smile though, and tilts his head to either side, popping it, though he has to step out of the way to avoid being clubbed by the swinging punching bag, reaching behind him to steady the thing, then turns eyes on Rupert, blinking them rather slowly at the sight hof the older guy inspecting the weight station. "I know it's a bit hodgepodge, but it's two seperate weight stations I welded together. Trash picked both and was able to make a working bench pressing bench out of them."
Ash turns, walking, with only a slight limp, to a gym bag, out of which a towel is plucked and he uses the towel to dry the sweat from his arms and face. "And no. I didn't take the vocodin. I wasn't goign to let a few flesh wounds put me out of action, let alone some pain meds. Thank you for the gesture though." Hey, he's tryign to be nice and amiable and polite and such. "Not an act Peter, just who I've become. You can thank the fucking government and Company for that shit." He turns back to the leader of Messiah. "So what's up?" He asks as he tosses the towel up onto his shoulder.
Rupert's brows both lift as he's addressed, looking for all his worth like a surprised prairie dog at Ash's explanation. An inquisitive finger poke nudges thw weight station, and Rupert ambles around it with one hand on his hips, black suit jacket pushed back and away from his waist. He squints narrowly at the padded seat, then settles down on it like a makeshift chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands over one knee, a single brow quirked in silent assessment of watching Peter at work in conversation.
"Next time, just ask for something with less kick. I know you mean well, but given our line of work there's no such thing as being too careful…" Offering a hesitant smile, Peter slides off his paramedics jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair that Rupert — for whatever reason — opted not to sit on. "I'm here to get you back up to one-hundred percent, and stop that," Peter nods to the blood on the floor, "but it's going to hurt. I've got… something of a healing gift, but it's not clean, and it's not pretty, and it's going to leave a very obvious scar on you."
Furrowing his brows, Peter unbuttons the sleeves of his black dress shirt, rolling them up over his elbows as he looks Ash up and down. "You can refuse it if you want, but I don't want to send you back out on assignment without that wound having healed up all the way."
Ash can't help but look slightly confused by Rupert's choice of seating, but he doesn't question it out loud, just arches a brow at the older man. "Didn't want something with less kick. Didn't want pain killers. I deserve the pain. I fucked up, wasn't ready for him. Shouldn't have stood still like that. i saw what he could do before he stabbed me and hacked me up. I should have been ready for him and prepared, and instead I got these.." He sets his jaw tightly and looks around, then winces as he takes a step, leaving a blood blotch on the floor. he drops hi towel onto the floor, and starts using his good foot to mp up the mess he's made, though he pauses at the mention of getting healed. "Obvious scar how? I dont' mind scars… but what does it leave behind?"
He pulls in a couple of quick breaths, then gives his head another shake to the possibility of refusing it. "No plans on that. I want to get back into it as soon as I can." he looks down, then back up. "It's all I've got Petrelli. This fight."
Nodding in understanding, Peter rests his hands on his hips and offers an askance look to Rupert, still not sure exactly why he insisted on coming today. As Peter looks back to Ash, there's a mildly uncomfortable look on his face. "A hand-print," is one of the last things that most people expect when they think of scars. "Black, kind've raised like a burn scar from the skin. The closer to the injury it is the less the whole process is going to hurt. The further away you want me to put the scar, the further my power has to move under your skin to get to the injury and close it."
Lifting ihs hands from his hips and wringing them together, Peter creases his brows and shifts his weight to one foot. "I've done it to a bunch of people, so I know what I'm doing. It's just… it's a pretty visceral ability, but it'll fix you up as good as new, scarring aside."
Ash listens to the description of what it will leave on his body, and the black hand print thing has him … pretty damn surprised. "A black handprint? YOu're sure this is a healing ability" He asks with a soft, and somewhat forced laugh. "Will you have to do it for each of the fucking gashes? Or just once to heal them all?" He has a deep one on his shoulder, and several more across his forarms, as well as the one straight through his foot.
A searching gaze goes to Rupert before the blunt fighter finally speaks up to him. "Any particular reason you came around Rupert? NOt that I'm against you coming around, but you dont' usually fraternize with the grunts." It's said with a smile on his lips, and a spark of amusement in his eyes. His attention lingers on teh man, then pulls back to Peter. "And the pain is no big deal." He comments, but just waits for the moment, for answers to his questions.
"Just once, when I get started I'll be able to tell what's wrong and how to fix it." Peter explains, but it's that brief explanation that serves as a preface to Rupert looking more attentive to the conversation. Rising up from his seated position, the bearded tactician steps across the concrete floor, sidestepping the droplets of blood spattered from where Ash's stitches had split during exercise.
"I actually just… wanted to commend you on a job well done, Ash. Risa told me about how you finished getting the uplink together, and I just wanted to voice my appreciation for everything you've done for the organization so far." Smiling awkwardly, Rupert steps closer to Ash in the same moments that Peter steps away and moves towards the chair he'd put his coat over.
Resting a hand on Ash's shoulder, Rupert furrows his brows and offers the younger man a smile. "We don't have nearly as many dedicated fighters like you, Ash. People who are really comitted to the work we're doing. I thought… it might go a long way to…" Rupert's eyes wander around the room, hand still on Ash's shoulder. "Commend you on a job well done. All casualties," his eyes drop down to the blood on the floor, "aside."
Ash looks to Rupert as the older man approaches him and begins to speak. When he's commended on a job well done Ash looks, well, surprised. His eyes widen just a touch before a hesitant smile pulls at his lips, tugging them upwards a little. "Thank you." He offer sback to Rupert. Not the kind to go into discussion of why he did it, or how, just accepts the praise, and moves on from there. "Thankfully they were the only ones with casualties this time. Though it was a close run thing for a minute." He looks to Peter, then back to Rupert before he offers the tactician a thankful nod.
"Would do everyone some good to see more of you two. I know you're busy, but it means alot when you're in a war… the little things I mean." He smiles tightly before his eyes pull to Peter. "I'm worried about Rickham. The man shouldn't have to sacrafice his humanity like he is. I want to try to figure out a way to fix him so he can phase back to his normal human self. Metal like that, he's got to feel detached, distant, and that's dangerous, both for himself, and those he goes on missions with. And…" he frowns, looking down at the ground. "And the man deserves more than to lose himself piece by piece, never able to revert. Wouuld it be possible to have him revert, but be ready for the damage that's been done to him, and heal him right away?"
He looks up, a slightly hopeful look on his features. "And yeah, you can heal it. Calf preferably, it's close to the foot, but not something i need full feeling in. And since I don't know what that scar will do to the sensitiveity of the skin, I don't want to risk my foot's feeling." He's a kickboxer, he knows how important his feet are.
"Allen's too bad off for me to heal," Peter admits with a downcast of his eyes. "The minute he turns back to flesh he'd bleed out before my power could even start working on him. The only person who had the power to heal wounds that severe isn't… alive anymore." There's a furrow of Peter's brows at that and a shake of his head. "I don't know if doing anything to his metal body would have the same affect on him when he turns back to normal, or if it would just damage him more…"
Exhaling a sigh, Peter swipes a hand over his brow. "I've tried to bring up the topic to him but— he just… he doesn't want to talk about it. Part of me thinks he's already given up the idea of leading a normal life, the other part of me thinks he's afraid of what would happen if he did go back to a normal life."
Managing a faintly sympathetic smile, Rupert pats Ash on the shoulder and then lets his hand slip away. "Maybe you're right," Rupert admits with a nod of his head, trying to change the subject to something less grim, "maybe me and you could talk again sometime, I've got some things we might be able to see eye to eye on…" Tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks, Rupert offers a nod to Peter as he turns towards the door. "Don't let me hold you two up, I know old Doc Petrelli has a busy schedule to keep up." Clicking his tongue and winking to Peter, Rupert quietly makes his way out of the training room, with only a narrow-eyed stare from Peter considering his departure.
"Alright…" Peter says in a breathy tone of voice, motioning to the chair. "Come sit down and roll up your pant leg, this is going to hurt, all up one side of your leg to where the stab wounds are, but it'll pass once I'm done. It's not quite as bad as bone pain, Melissa said it felt like a full-body charliehorse…"
Crouching beside the chair, Peter furrows his brows and looks up to Ash. "Speaking of Melissa… I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a favor for me."
Ash listens to the reply on Rickham, his eyes going downcast at it all. he inhales slowly, then exhales, nodding his head sadly. "I was thinking maybe a metal manipulator. Someone that can actually liquify and bond metal and stuff. Could possibly restore his body to it's former solidity. Maybe even turn him into steel and make him more durable. I figured healing his flesh would be a problem, but healing his metal shouldn't be. And if we can heal his metal, it should theoretically heal his flesh…" He purses his lips some. The man at least has thought it out.
Ash's head gives a slow dip forwards. "I think he's given up on it as well. But the man has a family. He should be able to live a normal life once this is all done. People like me? I'm a fugitive. I can't go back to normal. Not sure I'd be capable of it. But him? His family needs him." He sighs rather heavily, then nods a bit and looks to RUpert. "I look forwards to it." He offers to Rupert. "I could help plan as well, if you need someone to help. I'm actually quite well educated despite appearances…" He shrugs a touch and watches Rupert walk away before he turns his body around and faces Peter. He walks over and settles into the chair, tilting his head forwards a bit. One of his large hands lifts, fingers running back through his hair.
"What did you have to heal on Melissa?" He asks curiously. "And… does it effect sensitivity?" he asks again, pulling up his pantleg to expose his heavily muscled calf. Then the mention of Melissa and favors has him arching a brow. "What's that?"
Looking down at Ash's leg, Peter's brows crease together. "Not any more than regular scar-tissie does," he offers in quiet explanation, looking up from Ash's leg to his side then back down again. "Melissa got beat up," Peter changes the topic as he lays a hand out onto Ash's leg, fingers curling around the back of his calf. "Humanis First, they jumped her in an alley for trying to get them to stop beating up someone else. It was right outside of Shooters… Risa and Knox went out to check out the scene, and Risa managed to pull their faces up from the past."
It's something that, now, Ash is familiar with. Normally explaining how Risa's ability works is a complicated, frustrating thing. But having experienced it first-hand, Ash has a clear idea of what Peter means. "Knox has been asking around about the guys, thinks he might know where to find them now."
Jumping from the topic, Peter's dark eyes lift up to meet Ash's, "Brace yourself." With only that as a warning, Peter's fingers press down firmly against Ash's muscles as a seating hot pain like that of scalding metal lances across the back of Ash's leg. From that, a slithering feeling of his muscles moving beneath his skin erupts with pain like a mobile charlie horse. It creeps up the back of Ash's leg, up his thigh and around to his waist, knotting and twisting muscles all the way up to the stab wounds that penentrated his body armor during the attack. Flesh, muscle and even chipped bone knits back together properly, and tiny slivers of bone scraped away from Ash's ribs by the knife bleed out the side of his body and run down his waist with a clear expulsion of plasma.
The wounds themselves seal shut and heal over with a natural scarring, and while the pain is intense it is fortunately brief. When Peter's hand moves away from Ash's calf, there's a slightly raised black and veiny scar tissue in the shape of Peter's palm, looking like a burn wound, all the leg hairs around the black flesh have turned white in contrast.
Ash stops with the warning to brace himself, his body going forcibly limp, slumping in the chair. His body instantly tenses again, though to his credit he doesn't cry out until pieces of bone begin to force thier way out of his flesh and dripping onto the floor with little spatters of gore onto the concrete floor underfoot. When the pain recedes Ash swears. Very loudly, very profusely, and at very great length. A number of the statements include mentions of Peter's mother, unborn grandchildren, and other ridiculous statements. He lets his head hang back, going quiet before a single statement emerges from his lips. "Fuck… a … duck…" He grunt sout, head lifting to look at Peter. "You sure… that counts as healing?" He asks, pulling in tight breaths, and glancing around him to the bits of bone.
"Yeah, she mentioned that," Ash nods his head a little bit to the mention of Melissa being beat up, "but naturally the damn woman didn't mention she got beat up bad enough to need healing…" he grunts, and shakes his head a bit, clearly somewhat annoyed. "Shooters is right around the corner from my place…" he mutters in irritation, then shrugs his shoulders, letting it go, then mention of Knox knowing where the guys are earns a curious look from Ash. "I want in on that little… run if Knox does indeed know. So fucking sick of humanis First. They want monsters to fear? I'll give them a fucking monster."
"In Soviet Russia," Peter quips, "healing hurts you." There'a a crack of a smile as he rests his hands on his knees, then pushes himself slowly to his feet. "No joke, really, I took the power from a Russian. I don't really know… everything about what it does, but I know it heals wounds as best as can be expected." There's something of a frown that crosses Peter's face as he looks down at his hands, "I have a feeling there's more to it than I know, but… I'm working on it."
Stepping around Ash to gently tug the paramedics jacket from behind him, Peter offers an askance look over to Ash. "I figured you'd want in, that's why I mentioned it. I don't know when Knox is going to go after them, but when he does I'll make sure he brings you along. Lacombe mentioned wanting to tag along too, I don't think you had the chance to meet him yet…"
Reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, Peter throws that jacket of his over one shoulder. "I need to head back to Manhattan, get some rest. I've been going non-stop for a couple days now and it's finally starting to catch up with me…" Grimacing, Peter looks down to the floor, then back up to Ash. "If you hear about anybody who has the power to stay away for twenty-four hours, give me a call?" Sure, he's joking, but that would be handy.
Ash snorts rather loudly at the mention of it doing more than Peter thinks. "I'd garuntee you it does. That kidn of pain, and leaving the person marked? I'm sure it does a hell of a lot more than heal us. So, when i get cancer and keel over dead, I'mma haunt your ass till you die." He winks at the man, leaning forwards, bracing his hands on his thighs and letting a grunt escape him as he shakes off the last dregs of the pain. "Russian…" The question sits in his mind, of whether that would be the Kazimir guy he keeps hearing about, but he remembers Peter's reaction last time he asked about him, so he leaves the question unasked.
"Lacombe?" He asks, eyes scrunched up a bit curiously. "That that wierd… Faron guy? Or the other one? Percy? Perry?" Then his head tilts, and an eyebrow lifts upwards. "How would that help you?" He smirks a bit, shifting around before he pushes to his feet, testing his foot before he walks over to the bag, and flings his leg out in a brutal kick, grunting in satisfaction when there's no pain from his foot at the blow. "Nice job though."
"Lacombe's French, trust me you'd remember him if you met him. He… leaves an impression on people." Peter's tone of voice almost seems nervous on mentioning the cryokinetic, but leaves it at that. "I borrow abilities, the healing… not mine." At that commentary, there's a sudden drop in temperature in the room, then rises back up to normal. "Weather manipulation and healing… at the moment. When I said I learned how to do this from a Russian I wasn't joking."
Dusting off his hands, Peter looks down to the floor, absently. His stare looks a little distant, brows furrowed and lips downturned into a frown. "I should get going… I've got a lot to do tomorrow. Don't be surprised if Rupert comes by to see you after your comment, when he puts his mind to something, he sees it through."
At that, Peter glances to the door, then back to Ash. "Take it easy, Ash. I'll have Knox get in touch with you…"
Ash nods his head, but it's a slow motion. "Should grab Claire's ability." He comments off handedly. "Then I could haunt your ass for ever." He smirks, then nods hsi head a bit. "Rupert seems like a rather eccentric individual… oh!!" He stops, and goes to his duffel bag, fishing around in it until he comes out with his piece of paper. The one he wrote everything from the visions they got in the elevator on. He brings it back over to Peter and hands it over. "Risa used her power, and I saw that when I was in the elevator. Those names, those locations, and stuff." He wrote everything down. The names used, what they were doing, who they talked about, all of it. "not sure.. why, but I … felt like I should only give it to you."
Pausing at the door, Peter looks at the piece of paper as it's held out, his head tilts to the side and one brow raised. A suspicious expression crosses Peter's face as he takes the paper, then unfolds it as he leans against the inside of the door, looking down to the scrawled writing. There's a lot there that's of interest to Peter, cities and names he's not familiar with, not until he gets to something that has both of his dark eyes going wide and the color draining from his face for a moment.
Darren Stevens.
"You— " Peter's eyes dart back up to Ash, "You saw this in Risa's vision, the one she gave you in the elevator at Biomere?" It's a rhetorical question, given that it's what Ash just said. Looking back down to the paper, Peter's expression becomes even more haunted and he takes a step back, folding the paper closed between his fingers.
"I— I need to go talk to someone about this," sounds somewhere between shaken and urgent. "If this… if this is right than you might've either opened a really big can of worms, or unlocked a door I'm not sure was meant to be open." Swallowing nervously, Peter tucks the paper into the pocket of his slacks, then looks back up to Ash.
"I'll explain, but not right yet. I need to check with someone about one of the people you wrote down." About to dart out the door, Peter hesitates, then looks back to Ash. "Thanks, Ash," that's the second time today he's been thanked by someone. "You might've just given us a huge lead on something…"
Ash hands over the paper without realizing just what a brain laxative he was about to hand to Peter. He steps back, letting Peter read over the scrawled stuff. Ash's mind is sharp, he got almost every single detail of what he saw, even a quick description of the guys that were talking in the vision. He heads back over to his gym bag, picking it up, and his bloody towel, and starts back towards Peter, stopping as he hits that spot that makes him get all finnicky and pale. "Yeah. We were in the elevator and we needed the passcode, so she found it, and that's what popped into my head when she did."
Ash is not slow, and when Peter gets even more haunted and wonky he frowns. "Something's seriously wrong isn't it?" He asks in a soft voice, the man expecting some big revelation to be laid down, but then he's told he'll have to wait. "Let me know as soon as you confirm shit? I'd like to know just what it is that I just handed you that has you acting like you've had a ghost pass through your body, squeeze your heart, and then move on about his way." He tilts his head, shoulding his gym bag. "Take care of yourself Peter."
"Maybe…" Peter quietly offers in a halting pause, looking up to Ash with creased brows. "I'm… I'm going to go find out if something's wrong, and if it is… I don't know." It's the first time since meeting Peter that he hasn't seemed in charge, like some sort of facade had been broken and something else has come bubbling to the surface.
On those hushed words, Peter slips out of the training room and down the hall, the name listed on that piece of paper rattling around in the back of his mind. There's only one person that would possibly know where to find Darren Stevens, and that just happens to be the person he was going home to.
It's time to talk to Abby.