2007-10-09: Addicted

Starring:

Elena_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: In his self-imposed quarantine in Bat Country Labs, Peter sneaks out of his room to sate his present addiction.

Date It Happened: October 9th, 2007

Addicted


Bat Country Labs, Seville Medical, New York City

Not like she didn't expect this to happen. Elena already knew coming in that she was going to be positive - if not from the quarantine or wherever they got this, then from the last several nights since she and Peter had consumated their relationship. But even as tired as she was, her eyes are open in the dark, staring upwards at the ceiling. The chills haven't set in, but there's a heaviness in her bones that isn't going away. She exhales a breath, and rubs her eyes again. She's trying to sleep, she really is. She checks the watch Gene gave her…. the heart-shaped pseudo-Casio tells her that it's approaching two in the morning.

And she can't sleep.

She knows she's worrying, but she can't help it. Curling up a slim, bare leg underneath the blankets, she pushes with the heel of her foot so she could sit up and take another drink of water located at the bedside table, before laying back down again. She closes her eyes, curling up against a pillow and resting her cheek on it. One more time. She has to try and keep up her strength.

Approaching two in the morning, and there's a soft knock on the door. She's given just enough time to respond before the door opens and a shadowed figure drapped in a blanket opens the door. A blanket and a pair of loose pants and nothing else. Peter's seen better days— better nights— and he really should be in bed, but even with his brother nearby, and even with the overwelming exhaustion, he's having a difficult time sleeping. Not only because he's shaking and chilled to the bone, but because he's worried. Brother. Girlfriend. Two of his most important people have come down with this virus.

He could worry less about himself. It's the two of them that worry him most.

"Elena?" he asks softly, hoping that he didn't wake her up. He'd probably feel bad if he did, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to see her. The darkness isn't much to see by, but he can make out an outline— and it wouldn't take long for either of them to reach a light and increase the illumination of the room.

"….I couldn't sleep either," says her quiet voice in the dark. While he could make out an outline, Elena shifts from the bed - she was clad in a tanktop and underwear, she didn't have much in terms of pajamas even if she did have the foresight to bring some clothes when Cass had explained the situation to her at Peter's apartment. She leans over to turn on the soft-yellow lamp on the side of the bed she was in, shadows and light playing over her face as she looks over at him. "Oh, Peter…" she sighs, seeing his face. He didn't just look sick. He looked like death warmed over. "You should be trying to sleep."

She unfolds herself from the bed and stands up so she could move over towards him, closing the door behind him. He looks cold, so she reaches out, pulling the thing around him and rubbing his arms up and down with her hands, hoping the friction would help some. "Cass said there's something about you that's making this affect you worse than the rest of us. She didn't really explain it though, it's a logical leap on her part."

She looks up at him and smiles - it's faint, but she still has the strength to do so. Her hands come up cup the sides of his face, rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. " 'm worried about you," she confesses softly.

Definitely doesn't look great, that's for sure. Peter moves further into the room when he can, still holding the blanket around him, but she stands up and closes the door, getting even closer to him and then she babies him. He almost smiles, just a little, moving closer to press his forehead against hers, their noses touching. For someone who looks as if he's suffering from chills and shivers, he's pretty warm. But not sweating. That's one big difference between what he's going through now, and how she's seen him before, when he'd be overloading.

"I'll be fine— I got some rest, but I needed to… I needed to see you. To…" To hear her. Touch her. In some ways she's one of the most comforting things in the world to him.

"You and Nathan are both sick… and it's…" He doesn't care much if he's worse. He's far more worried about them. "I'm sure Cass'll find something— you're the… you're the one I'm worried about, Elena. You… I love you. I don't want you to go through whatever this is." If he could take on all of the symptoms for everyone, he probably would. Especially for his brother and her.

But he does move as if to sit down, if to go toward the bed, intending to settle down on it.

Her eyes close, feeling the welcome weight on his forehead on hers. Things had been a little tense between them the past few days, what with him dying several times, the arguments - but they never fought out of spite, which was honestly a difference that she would hold onto. Besides, she read somewhere in GLOSS that fighting was good for a relationship so long as it wasn't out of hate. His fever hasn't broken, but he was warm - though at the very least not scalding to the touch. "I didn't even know you could get sick," she tells him softly. As close as they were, she doesn't kiss him, at least, not yet.

She pulls away a bit to look at him, inclining her head. "…you saw me earlier," she points out, teasing him gently. "Besides, I'm right next door to you, I'm not exactly leaving any time soon." She glances down at the dip of his collarbone, when he says what he does. "You're the one who's worse," she tells him. "This thing's affecting you differently than me and Nate." She's not even symptomatic yet. At least, not full blown. But she's clearly getting worse - she looks a little pale.

She moves to take a seat next to him, turning slightly so she could face him. "Are you taking anything?" she asks, lifting a hand to touch his forehead gently. It was cooler earlier, but now it's warm.

"I didn't either," Peter admits quietly, settling down on the bed once he's able to. The blanket is still pulled around him, feeling as if he needs the heat. The cold chills might be why he's unable to sleep, actually. Nothing really helps to make them go away. "I talked to Claire— after I called Nathan. She's going to stop by in a couple days. I didn't want to risk her coming by until Cass can figure out if we're contagious or not…" And he doesn't want to expose his niece. Her father will kill him, for one. "She said she's never really gotten sick since her ability kicked in— not as far as she can recall. But it could be mine works differently."

There's a long moment when he's close to her. She's not leaving him. She's staying. "Her blood could heal people— you know about that, right? How her blood cured Nathan." He's pretty sure he's told her, but he's feverish. "I tried to— tried to use my blood to… to fix something." Something he is too bothered by to talk about. "It didn't work. So maybe… maybe the regeneration in my blood is different. And maybe it… did something different. I dunno."

It's not something e's an expert on. "I should probably take something over the counter, shouldn't I?"

"I think it's because you and Claire are different people. Maybe that could account for the differences," Elena says. "DNA is unique in every individual. Your body might be able to shift whenever you take on a power, but I don't think it actually…takes on the same basic building block as the origin." She sighs. "I hope Cass determines that relatively quickly, at least you'll be able to have visitors if Claire does prove immune to disease." She absently rubs the back of her neck. That must be handy, never get sick, heal from any wound, no matter how bad, come back to life, maybe? "I'm just guessing…there's a lot we don't know about you, you know. You're…even amidst special people, you're special."

She reaches out, taking one of his hands gently so she could rub it between both of hers. At least one part of his body can be warded from the chill. At the very least she'll attempt to anyway. "Yeah, you mentioned it a while back," she tells him quietly. "He was badly burned from the mid-air explosion and he would've had scars if it wasn't for her. That's really something, I think, being able to heal so flawlessly like that…"

She can't help but chuckle at the last. "Nyquil, at least," she teases him. "To help with the coughing and so it can drug you to sleep. You might need to pile on the blankets whenever you lay down though - see if the fever can be sweatted out at the very least." She sighs quietly, and closes her eyes. She looks tired. "I should've sensed something was up when I was feeling sluggish over the last couple of days."

Special even among the special? "Sounds like I need the really short bus," Peter says with a hint of a joke. It's not really funny, though, but he does seem to be understanding that he's definitely not going to be like a normal regenerator in this case. He's not about to risk infecting Claire if they can avoid it, though. She's his niece and he cares about her a great deal, even if he only met her a year ago. "Could also be worse because of all the healing I had to do a few days ago…" he adds, a speculation he's sure she thought of. When he thought his illness, the symptoms, were just part of a overload, he'd completely blamed the multiple healings.

"Yeah— that's what she did. Apparently her blood can actually…" he trails off. He's not sure he's ready to tell her how it brought someone back from the dead yet. That might be too much to imply— it's dangerous if too many people know, especially if she doesn't want to be used for that.

"All right, I'll take something… but I think just being around you will help. Everytime we spend nights apart… things don't seem to go as well."

The attempted joke actually ellicits a small laugh from her. "You know what I mean," Elena tells him with a grin. But there was a lot about his physiology that they don't know, and what they don't know could be hurting him, and all of them, in the end. Still, she nods. "There's that. Stress does weaken the immune system - doesn't help with a virus coming in and leeching up all your strength." With his hand warm enough, she stops the rubbing, but she keeps one hand there instead, giving him a squeeze. If he found comfort in her presence, she wasn't about to deny him that.

She listens, but when Peter doesn't continue the thought, Elena lets it slide. This is his niece after all. He was awful at keeping secrets, but he does try and mostly succeed when it comes to the people closest to him. "Don't worry about it," she tells him softly, giving his hand another squeeze. "And you mentioned that," she says, thinking back. "Starting from the time I had to wake you up from a nightmare anyway." They didn't just spend nights apart then - she had cut him off so he could work on his relationship with Elle…

"I do sleep better when you're in the same bed with me," she confesses. "Despite the fact that I spent the last 18 years sleeping in my own bed." Though there were the boogeyman moments where she'd sleep on her parents' bed when Catalina was still alive, but she's always been pretty independent, even with her sleeping habits. "I don't know….I feel taken care of waking up in the morning with your arms around me." She flashes him an almost shy smile at that, before looking down at her knees.

There's a lot that he should probably be doing to help his immune system along— a lot of medicines he could be taking to at least make the symptoms less severe, but right now… Peter just seems to be obsessed with moving so his fingers can lace through hers, their palms clasping together. He leans against her and closes his eyes for a time. He needs her. She's something so much more precious than he could even give words to— His brother is important too, but he doesn't want to wake up next to his brother every morning (no offense, Nathan).

"It was true back then," he adds, noting all the way back to his nightmare, the time when she jumped off his roof and ninja'd into his apartement. "Even more true now." Now… it's not just continual talking, it's so much more. The future, what happened there, only made this need for her more dire.

It's her words that make his eyes open and he turns to look at her. She feels taken care of. "Really? You feel like I… like I'm taking care of you?" There's a grateful sound to his voice, and he shifts his hands up to touch her face on either side, much as she'd just done to him. This time, though… he's going to kiss her. Not heated or quite as desperate, but a kiss.

When he leans against her, Elena's other hand reaches up, moving to the side of his head so her fingertips could curl at the back and brush through the now-cropped strands behind his head. She liked it a little longer - not quite as severe as what was in his driver's license, but he was handsome regardless, so the forced hairstyle didn't really detract from his looks. Her fingertips slide lower, to the back of his neck and kneading gently. "You're so tense," she murmurs absently. "All knotted up the way you are…" She can't help but smile, just a bit. No wonder Jack called him 'boy' or 'kid' sometimes, Peter acted much younger than he really was.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," she tells him, reaffirming the fact. "I promised, you know. And it's not just because you make killer pancakkes," comes the tease. She's keeping the conversation light, as much as she can. Especially when their prognosis is still relatively up in the air.

At the last, she blinks, especially when he stares at her in surprise. "…Peter…" she says, a quiet laugh escaping her. "You make sure I get up in the morning to go to school, you cook me breakfast when you can, you make it a point to kiss me the moment you come home and you tell me you love me every day, I— why wouldn't I f— " As typical, it's the little things that stay close to her heart. Her face is cupped, tipped up a bit, and despite the fever she can feel on his lips, she kisses him back - gently at first, before a warmer press is initiated. "Besides I like feeling you bury your face in my hair in the morning when you try to wake me up," she murmurs against his mouth. "It's cute."

"Been a rough couple of… okay, it's been a rough year," Peter says, trying to relax and not really succeeding. He'd intended to comment on the last couple of days— but that didn't seem long enough. Even the last few months. It's the last year that's since all this started. He met Hiro— Future Hiro— just over a year ago. And here he is now. And he'd like to comment that Jack called Nathan boy too— but that's another story all together.

"I know you're not— and neither am I. Even if all we get to see of each other is at night." They can hold each other in quarantine and wait this out— he's got a lot of phone calls to make, and he has to make himself useful doing something, because that's just who he is. Helplessness is not a feeling he likes. Though he's sure she shares the same feeling with him.

His fingers touch her cheeks gently. All the words she says just softens him bit by bit, soothes away some of the tension in his forehead and temples that's probably due to a headache. "I can't make you go to class tomorrow… but once we're all better I can do that again." He can't even cook for her. All he can really offer her is… "Can I stay in here tonight with you?"

Well there was a lot that went on even when they first walked into each other's lives - Elena had always been busy, and this entire thing hasn't exactly been conducive into putting more time to relax in her schedule. But she wouldn't change a thing save for a few bad ones that slipped through the cracks. "You should tell me the whole story sometime, when we're not sick," she teases him softly, her dark eyes meeting his. She could almost see the thoughts rushing through his head, he wore them so plainly on his face. He had always been a bad liar, but he wasn't one to hide either, usually - in a way, being honest took a different sort of courage.

"I know, I'm sorry…" she says ruefully. He was busy, she was busy. She looked forward to the evenings just so they could hang out and be that strange balance between friends and lovers that they managed to strike up ever since this entire thing started….and much more than that, if she stopped to think about it. "I really should visit you at work more often…" At least so she could see him for a bit while the sun was still up. "In a way maybe that's why we've been arguing so much lately…" But the important thing was never fighting out of spite. Not like she was a spiteful person, but the root of it all was usually either out of love and worry, and sometimes both.

"If you weren't going to, I was going to sneak in your room anyway," she tells him with a smile. "…..except….I would've had to have been careful. I don't want to mix yours and Nate's up. That would've been disastrous." She winks at him then, but her expression softens afterwards.

"I love you, Peter," she murmurs quietly, turning her head to kiss his mouth.

"I don't think it's much of a bedtime story… but I'm sure I could tell you most of it— what I haven't already told you, at least," Peter says, thinking back on all the stories he'd already told her of the past year— and there are a lot more details he could fill in, he's sure. He'd told her quite a bit, though… Not right now, though. Neither of them are well enough for it now.

"Don't be sorry," he says, giving her a quick kiss so she doesn't have to be sorry. "We've both been busy— I keep trying to save the whole world." Which isn't helping their fights are all, he knows. At least they're not out of spite. They both love each other too much. Mostly they're out of genuine concern. Affection. Fear for the safety of the other.

"I'd love it if you visit me at work— or here, even. I've been promising to help Cass out here— though if it takes too long for us to go home, we might both be sick of this place by then." And thens neither of them will want to work together here.

"Ah— actually— we were in the same room. I moved a cot into the room so we could— so— it's better I came in here." That would have been awkward… "I love you too," he adds in return.

"…I know I'm quite a bit younger than you but I don't need bedtime stories," Elena quips with a grin. "One day, there's no rush on that." She closes her eyes momentarily. "Besides, we really ought to try and get some sleep….and we should try and sweat out your fever, see if it works any." She's not coughing yet, at least, or having the chills. But that might change in the next twenty four hours. She was already feeling the heaviness settle in her bones, but she can't bring herself to sleep just yet. Even under the dim light and under the ravages of a weird illness, he was handsome.

"But I— " He takes the time to see her in practice, she should be stopping by the bookstore more often. She's silenced by a kiss though. "And yes, you do." With great power comes great responsibility and all that. "At least if anything we could use this as an excuse to hang without work or school getting in the way." Phonecalls will have to be made and everything, but….they'll be around each other.

"Oh….uh. Yeah. That would've been awkward, wouldn't it?" she says with a sheepish grin. "Good thing I opted to stay where I am." She presses her forehead gently against his. "Sleep?" she suggests, pressing another kiss on his mouth. And another. Maybe if she keeps doing that, he'll be convinced that he has to go to bed.

"I know— we need to sleep," Peter says, glancing to the bed that they'll be sharing. It's not big, and it may not be as comfortable now that he's feverish and chilled, and she's starting to show symptoms as well— but it's better than trying to suffer through it alone. He does hesitate, though, because he has to think on the bright side of things. They will get to spend more time together, when he's not making phone calls or handling certain things. And Nathan, if he takes Ramon's advice and tries video conferencing… and if they get Evelyn in here too— they could have quite a little party going on.

"I'd like that— being able to spend more time with you. Just wish the circumstances we're better… and at least neither of us have to go through this alone." There is that consulation, even if he'd rather her NOT be sick, honestly— He doesn't think she'd let him get away with saying he'd rather be sick and alone than have her be sick too.

"All right, all right," he says at her final reminder to sleep, making it the final when he unwraps his blanket, but moves to lay down. His blanket can be laid on top of them, but he wants to get situated first. "Sleep."

Sucker.

"No one ever has to go through anything alone. It's just that the stubborn ones need to ask," Elena says simply. She watches his hesitation a bit, watching him furrow his brows. While the bed isn't big….the shared body heat might help his fever. Grandmother always swore by it anyway, to force the fever to break. But this case was a little different - she had the feeling none of the usual methods would work, save perhaps some pain relievers. Drugs might be the only things that can help with this, when it comes to making the patient comfortable anyway.

She gives him a small smile. "Not like you've been neglecting me or anything. You haven't." She presses a kiss on his cheek in reassurance. He was so attentive he wouldn't be able to neglect her or anyone if he tried. So she shifts away, so he could situate himself, and then she reaches out to turn the light off, and get in bed with him.

Draping one arm over his chest and the blankets folded over them, she sighs, and turns her face against his shoulder. "Anyone ever tell you.." she says softly, barely hiding a grin. Not like he can see it in the dark. "That you're kinda addicting?"

"So long as you remember that you're just as stubborn as I am," Peter points out, so she knows that he's citing her on her possible tendancy to want to do everything on her own. Kinda like he wants to do everything on his own. They're similar in that capacity.

As everything settles down, he physically starts to relax, closing his eyes and moving an arm around her. Right up until she grins through the darkness at him, and says those words.

"…that's my line," he says into the darkness, voice almost a murmur, even as he's closed his eyes. He'll go to sleep. But he wants to make sure she knows. She stole his line.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License