Starring:
Date: March 22, 2010
Summary:
Micah seeks out Peter and meets Daphne. The three chat about things.
"Briefing"
Petrelli Safehouse
Immediately after leaving Tracy's safehouse, Micah is on another mission. Still pale-faced and somewhat queasy, he's heading to another safehouse he's never been to. Thanks to Wireless he'd tracked this place down some time ago. His smile has faded again — thanks to Tracy's help in piecing the puzzle together — but he reminds himself that this is the life of a hero, and manages a small flicker of a smile once he reaches the safehouse.
Nervously, the teen trudges to the front door, tugging on the bottom of his black coat before lifting a finger to ring the bell.
—
That might be the life of a hero, but the life of Daphne seems to be decidedly off the active roster. When the bell goes off, she's halfway into the fridge and, upon pulling out and straightening, she's already absently peeling away the top of a cup of yogurt. Tossing the end of her blue scarf over here shoulder, she gives an idle glance around the room to check for any slightly more motivated parties to attend to the door. Lacking in those, the speedster sighs a belabored sigh and trudges — though probably too fast to really do the word justice — to the door.
On tip-toe, she takes a whole second to check through the peephole at their company. Clearly, it looks harmless enough, because, next second, the door swings open to reveal her there, eyeing Micah up and down with head-tilted critique. "Uh huuuh." Now speak, short nervous creature.
—
Zipping and zooming come to mind more often with Daphne's motions than 'trudging'. But… there's a second set of sometimes quick feet coming down the stairs at the sound of the doorbell, frowning through the entrance. Very few people have this residence, so there is suspicion in Peter's eyes almost immediately. And caution. In the back of his head he's probably coming up with escape routes, and ways to get everyone in the house out, what things he might need to destroy—
There's so much that he'd have to do if their safehouse was no longer safe.
—
"H-hi," Micah says as he peers at Daphne. "I… um… I'm… I'm looking for Peter… or… or Monica…" Maybe he's in the wrong place? He looks at Daphne a little skeptically before frowning just a little.
"He's not… I mean he hasn't… he's around right? I mean, even if he's not here now he's around…" Yup, this is a point of nerves for the teen. Craning his neck he tries to see beyond her, but he still hasn't spurted enough to be taller than Daphne. SOON. But not yet. "So… are either of them here?" He fidgets again.
—
Now that's a voice that Peter recognizes. "I know him," he says to Daphne, who backs out of the doorway and lets him get closer, where he motions him inside. "Don't hang around outside too much. Not that you're going to be easily spotted, I'm just— extra cautious. Especially with how many people I have here." Especially since many of them happen to be young women!
"Monica's around, yeah, you can talk to her while you're here." But right now… "Are you okay? Do you need somewhere to stay? I'm glad you're not…" Captured. Hurt. They'd only really worked together briefly a few times… But— the kid is important to him.
Partially because of how important he had been to Niki.
—
Micah visibly changes at the sight of Peter. Not caught. A good first step. His shoulders relax, his jawline loosens, and a smile of relief spreads over his lips. "I'm glad you're okay," he says somewhat cautiously as he comes inside. "I'm okay. I'm staying with Mister Gray," his kidnapper. "We were almost caught in January…" over two months ago. "I just …" his eyebrows furrow as he tries to make sense of how to tell the long winding journey he's been on over the last few months.
"I'm glad Monica's okay. Wireless told me she was —" he frowns slightly. "I have something I need to tell you, but for it to make any sense, you might need some context…" he flinches. How can he simplify the last few months? "I remember the last time I saw you Mister Gray threw you into a burning building." Micah's face scrunches, "Anyways… he took me to use me as bait to catch Tracy. And I talked him out of that… but after we got pursued by the Protocols again. And I went unconscious and Wireless talked to me through the device in my head…" Once again, logical sense alludes the story. "…and I learned of the other protocols. Beta Protocol killed mom and dad." Micah stares incredulously at Peter, looking for a reaction of some sort, even though the story thus far lacks some measure of coherence.
—
So Gabriel had helped them? Peter looks surprised, but also relieved, quick to forgive for the whole… throwing into burning building thing. Considering what else he forgave Gabriel for, is that any real surprise? Especially since— it sounds like he ended up helping the kid. With them inside, he listens while glancing at the window, as if checking for someone following, but then he blinks and looks back over at the mention of Beta— and how it killed the kid's mom and dad.
"The Protocols killed Niki… how?" And D.L. too, but he mostly knew Niki. There's a twist in his chest, a tightening at the very idea.
—
"I…" Micah flinches again. There are so many gaps in the story. "The Protocols aren't some gather mission. They're weaponizing us. I think… I think Beta was a test." Micah stares at the floor. "Jensen's papers said it was a successful test. I think they used a woman who can shatter glass. Lilian Marshall," his voice has become a whisper. As if somehow saying any of this louder will make it truer.
He swallows hard as he looks away. His gaze is now on the walls of the safehouse. It's easier to talk to walls. He blinks back the tears that burn at his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall, not this time. "When I found out about Mom and Dad and the other Protocols, I knew I needed to get more information. But I didn't know about the weapons until I intercepted some emails between Medusa and this guy at Lane Industries and this other woman — one who could talk to animals — contacted me and told me about a man who was developing a formula to control us."
—
That's a lot of information, and things that Peter didn't know. A glance is tossed Daphne-wards, before he looks back at the kid. "I knew it wasn't just gathering— but I didn't know all that." He didn't know Niki was involved, he didn't have details… "You seem to know more about what's actually going on than me. I was watching the island for a while, where they're holed up. I kept an eye on their transfer routes, but I don't know where they moved all of them."
And he knows some didn't leave alive, as well… "I'm not entirely sure how to stop them, honestly." Formula to control them…
"I've been trying to stop them one step at a time, but I don't know how much that's been helping."
—
"It's a lot to process. I'm sorry, I already did this to Tracy today. There's more. A lot more." Micah returns his gaze to Peter, his tone is all seriousness, "You've already been sold. A man by the name of Adham Sayf Udeen has put a $10 billion dollar deposit down for you. You are Kappa 00. A special collar was designed by Lane Industries for you. It's designed to puncture the spinal cord and kill the collared person on trigger."
Micah is frowning again. "I'm really glad they don't have you. They have people they've weaponized. A woman I know — a bodily possessor was delivered today. And Mister Gray's friend is on their list…" He's not looking forward to sharing that information with Gabriel. His frown deepens, "Tracy thinks they're using her to take over world leaders. The President. Peter, if they succeed, I don't think we have much hope of stopping this… and as near as I can tell… we have till April 15 when they'll use Lilian again…"
—
A collar built to puncture the spinal cord and kill on command. As Peter hears that, he moves away, a hand going to his neck, as the memory of a killing collar flashes through his mind. It'd been a dream, but the end result had been worse. The person it'd killed couldn't come back from it…
But it'd just been a dream. Right? Maybe not. It could have been a warning. "They don't have me, despite trying. I send out clones every day to get spotted and attract their attention elsewhere. They've caught a couple of them, but as soon as they're negated, they return to me, and I remember what happened to them— I've been learning their tactics for trying to catch me, or anyone, really."
Possession. Lilian. April 15.
"They attacked a museum in Las Vegas, right? Do you have any idea what they might be wanting to target in April? It'd be best if we can stop them before— especially the possession person, but… It'd be nice to know what they intend, too."
—
She's been quiet this far, Daphne. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stands where she ended up after leaving the doorway, she seemed content to eavesdrop but otherwise stay out of it. Certain words, though, perk her head in the other direction. "Did you just say sold?" She chimes in without apology. Besides the disgusted noise in the back of her throat, she feels little else needs to be contributed to that sentiment. Even mention of the President hardly gets a reaction.
But as Peter talks about his doubles, and a future attack and what it could mean, her mouth closes tighter and tighter as a wall against her opinions. She strolls forward, silently positioning herself by him.
It'd be a movement of support, if not for the look in her eyes that she likes exactly none of where this is going.
—
"Yeah. They're selling people. To terrorists. One in particular that I know of," Micah says to Daphne.
"Everyone else's collars have explosive charges. They detonate if the collars aren't deactivated before removal. I accessed the schematics for them. They were created by Lane Industries and commissioned" commissioned — like a piece of art "by Marilyn de Souza."
"I don't know what they intend other than…" Micah cringes at the memory. "…there's more. My friend that could talk to animals? Well we 'rescued' this man who had successfully designed the control-drug — Gamma protocol. After rescuing him we decided we needed to see if other scientists had succeeded. My friend.. she… we… stole some of the drugs from a van that was transporting them to Governor's Island… then… we tested them…" He continues to frown as he stares at his shoes, "Look. It didn't control anything. It made her powers go haywire. Tracy said… they might want us to go on the attack…"
He presses his lips together as he continues to stare at his shoes.
—
Terrorists. "It's funny, that's what they would have said they were working against." Terrorists. But Peter knows what someone says and what they do tend to be two totally different things. The further description of the collars makes him wince visibly, as if he had assumed something of the like. That's his dream— right there. He was right to wait until the collars were removed before trying to get his brother and Daphne out. Marilyn deSouza. The first person he could say he killed in cold blood…
And even if she deserved it, he doesn't know if it did any good. Everything's still…
He paces away a few feet, then paces back. Back and forth, back and forth.
"It was probably an adrenaline based drug, meant to heighten abilities. It's hard to control. It could be that's how they intend to make the unwilling work… enhance their abilities to the point that they can't control themselves…" If he was drugged with it… "I could probably blow up a whole city if they injected me with it."
—
Daphne doesn't follow when he starts pacing, only keeping to the spot where he once was and watching his progress with a narrowed, serious gaze that matches a flat, serious mouth. The corner of her lips pull in where she still objects to this, to the situation — to this whole conversation. That tiny bit of clinging resistance taints everything she does.
"Money makes the world go 'round," is her flyby quip as to Micah's further reveal. Then she's quiet, maybe too quiet. Something sparkles like — appropriately — dollar signs in her eyes at the sound of adrenaline.
It's hard to Peter's observation not to be somewhat sobering. Daphne's fingers knead against her own bare forearms where she hasn't uncrossed them. "Guess we'll just have to disappoint them."
—
Micah's eyebrows furrow as he sighs. This is a lot for a fourteen year old to process. "It was horrible. All of the animals in the apartment went nuts. We had to help my friend calm down — birds few into the window and were nothing more than splashes of blood against the glass. It was really scary."
He looks back up at Peter and then Daphne. "I don't want to be a weapon. I don't… I don't want to kill someone else's parents because someone's using me. I don't know what they have planned… but we need to stop them. Tracy is going to spy on Lane Industries. I said I'd come here and make sure they didn't already have you. I'm glad they don't." He shrugs a little, but his face is paling again.
He narrows his eyes at Daphne though; he hasn't quite decided how to react to her yet.
—
"We should find out— and stop the possession person," Peter says quietly, finally stopping in his pacing as if realizing he'd walked away from someone trying to comfort him. It's difficult to be comforted right now, though, because… he knows he murdered someone, and the way this is set up… "They want to use us to kill people, whether we want to or not." It sounds very much like what almost happened to him, all those years ago. When he'd nearly been the bomb, when he'd nearly blown up half of New York…
"Keep looking. See what Tracy finds out, and keep me updated. I'll look into it too. If we ever want to be free— we're going to have to work together."
—
She's new to this standing up for people thing, too, so Daphne doesn't pursue any comforting maneuvers once the first don't necessarily work out. Instead, all Peter might get from her look now is 'we're going to talk after this', which doesn't really have a positive reputation. "Yeah, well, screw what they want," she responds cavalierly, a tone the man in the room who has decided about her would recognize as more defensive than brave.
A passing glance at Micah makes her look entirely unaffected by his narrowing and unsureness about her. "Follow the money. If there's one thing every person ever keeps close, it's money. You can count on that. Especially the dirty kind."
Which is her contribution. Now she turns away and strolls back towards the kitchen to find the yogurt she left behind. In doing so, she cheerfully appends, "If we ever want to be free— everyone else would have to vanish off the face of the planet. One way or another."
—
"Yeah. I plan on it. I'm working with another person. She used to be an agent for them — got me access to the Lane Industry computers. I need to coordinate with her. And you're right, we need to work together here. I'll keep looking and searching for information," Micah purses his lips together as he walks towards the door. "Maybe someone can talk to the President before? Or at least… I dunno… " he shrugs. He's run out of ideas.
He frowns openly at Daphne's skepticism. "I know things look bleak, but people who run out of faith, who run out of hope, give up on love and really give up on life. We can't give up. If we give up, there's no reason to even live. We might as well just go to Governor's Island and gives ourselves over to all of them. To be a hero is to cling to what little faith or hope is left. I know. Because I lost mine. But then…" he smiles a little. "…my mom gave it back to me. We will be free. And we'll fight for it again. And again. But freedom is something worth fighting for."
By now he's reached the door. "I… I would stay and talk to Monica, but…" his eyebrows furrow again. "I don't think I can share everything again. I just…" his lips curl downwards. "Can you tell her I'll be back in a day or two?"
—
Uhoh, a talk. Those never end up good. Peter looks at her apologetically, for all of a few seconds, before she's sprouting off her cynicism. In this case, though… she's right. It's all about the money. They wouldn't be selling them otherwise. "Going after their money may take too long to have a serious effect. If they're already selling people as weapons… we'll definitely have to take care of that as well." They can't put their faith that just targetting the money will keep hundreds and thousands of people from being killed… And it won't stop those that have already been… purchased.
"I'm not sure how we'd meet with the President, but— I might be able to figure something out." And what if they've already possessed him?
"We'll do whatever we can." Because it may be all they can do… "I'll tell Monica you stopped by, and make sure you do visit. She was worried about you."
—
By the time she realizes she's being addressed, Daphne already has a spoon in her mouth. It remains there through the duration of Micah's speech, either by purpose or by absent-mindedness; both lend the same air of not taking things seriously. Her tongue works around the utensil moodily, but when she tugs the spoon out to address these heroisms, it's with the same negativity— but also resigned.
"I wasn't saying give up, sparkplug. I was saying they're not gonna just back off, you know, go away. We band together like merry men and nobody goes: oh, hey, guess the evil plot is over." At a pause, she softens, perhaps seeing Micah's yet-youthful face for what it is. "Just saying… it isn't gonna get easier or nothing." Her eyes flicker to Peter, "But that doesn't make it not worth it."
She lets them say their pieces about Monica, seemingly distracted again by her food. But she does pipe up once more to mention, "Depends on how legally you want said meeting to go."
—
"I don't expect things to get easier. Not now," Micah murmurs before running a hand through his hair. "Not ever. The more I learn about all of this, the more complex it becomes." And the more jaded Micah has become, but against all odds, he's hanging onto some measure of faith. "My mom told me I can do anything I put my mind to. And I want justice. For us. All of us. For them."
He opens the door and nods. "I'll be sure to come back to see Monica. I promise. I just… it's been a heavy day. Tracy pieced some of it together for me amongst my very confused rambling. And I still have to tell Mister Gray about his friend…" He steps through the doorway, "Thanks for listening to me. And believing me. I know I'm just a kid." He offers the pair a little wave before closing it behind him.