2007-03-10: Can't Just Go Back


Elle_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Date It Happened: March 10, 2007

Summary: Peter takes a break after his escape from the cell with Elle in tow. The two converse, and decide to regroup at the Petrelli Mansion.

Can't Just Go Back

Alleyway A Few Blocks From Kirby Plaza

The events of the evening has significant results. For one, Peter's still carrying the young blonde woman over his shoulder a few blocks from the building he'd been held in. Only after he's sure no one is following them, does he side step into an alley way and let the invisibility drop. Such a location may not be ideal for setting the unconscious girl down, but— he needs a rest. Hints of sweat have built up on his forehead, though he couldn't be considered warm enough for early March in New York City. He's actually shivering some as he shifts her off his shoulder and against the wall of the alley. Pushing her hair back, he tries to get a look at her face, to see what damage he'd done earlier. "Elle?"

The jostling around doesn't seem to have left her any worse for wear than being tasered in the butt while unconscious and being knocked unconscious in the first place. In fact, by the time Peter has found the alley and put her down, she's already half-awake. Blinking a few times as she finds herself in a place she doesn't recognize, she winces and puts a hand to her head, touching a mild-sized goose egg of a bump where her head hit the door of the cell. It's enough to force her to take several deep breaths and close her eyes. With a hoarse voice, she asks, "You took me with you?"

Not the only one wincing, Peter does much the same as she touches the bump on her head, hand moving out of the way to run over his own short hair as he glances back towards the entrance to the alley. Activity on the street may be seen, but anyone who glanced down doesn't seem to pause long. "Sorry," he says softly, still visibly cold from the night air of the city in not-quite spring. When he looks back, what lighting there happens to be shows his apologetic look rather clear as day, even if he's avoiding actual eye contact. "I couldn't just leave you there— didn't know if I'd see you again."

The blonde is silent for several seconds, looking over at the far wall of the alley instead of the man in front of her. If the lighting were better, he might notice her eyes getting wet like she's going to cry. Thankfully, though, its dark and she's able to rein herself in. "I really hope you like me. Because I can't go back now. Not unless I brought you with me." Groaning, she pushes to her feet, brushing any debris from her sitting on the alley floor off of her pants. "Are you okay?" Then: "My butts all tingly."

Though the lighting, or lack thereof, might make it difficult to recognize the possibility of tears, what she says causes enough of a reaction. Peter straightens fully, glances off towards the entrance again, a guilty set to his expression. "I more than like you, Elle," he says softly, before looking back at her. The expression on his face happens to be on the serious side of things, even if the guilt remains in his eyes, "If you want to go back, I can leave you in the alley and go. I kidnapped you, took you hostage for all they know." And, as for that tingly butt… "Far as they know I used you as a shield. You took a couple taser darts for me." That earns a hitch to the guilty look. "You can go back if you want to, but— I thought you wanted me to take you out of there."

"I can't just go back," Elle insists, putting a hand to steady herself against the wall nearby. "My father's not just going to let me come back and pat me on the head this time. He hates you." Steady now, she wraps her arms about herself against the cool weather. "I was put under house arrest because of all the visits. And if they find out I switched the pills… I'm going to need a hell of a lot more than 'but I was taken hostage daddy.'" Daddy Issues: Out in the open now. "Where are we going?"

As she wraps her arms around herself, Peter rubs his arms idly again, reminded of the cold. The nod shows he's accepting of her explanation, even if he can't help but flinch. "Sounds like you would have been in trouble even if I left you behind," he says, tugging lightly at his sleeve, as if in hopes of making his shirt magically thicker. "I'd take us to my apartment, but I don't even know if I have one— it's been what— five months?" He's not even sure how long it'd been. Only way to keep track of days had been his pills. "Don't have a key even if I did. Think I might try my mom's house. Nathan— if he was with the group that broke in— I wasn't able to get to them. I got turned around in the hallways and the Haitian beat me there."

Elle looks back to Peter. He's not wrong about her probably being in trouble either way. At least this way she gets some fresh air and maybe some private snogging time. She softens in her expression, lip coming out in a pout. Closing the distance between them, she pulls him into a tight hug. "Sounds like you need to regroup and get a plan together. If you're talking about the Petrelli mansion that sounds like a good place to start."

The tight hug doesn't soften the seriousness of his expression, though Peter's arms come up to wrap around her and return it fully. A tension remains along his muscles, easily felt under the light fabric of the hospital-prison clothes they'd given him every day. "Regrouping, yeah. If I hadn't already decided to take you…" he trails off, shaking his head, letting wherever that was going remain undiscussed, though there's definite self blame in his voice. Fairly obvious that he did not like leaving them behind. "It'd be faster if we fly," he adds on softly, glancing up towards the sky. Something about his expression seems doubtful, though.

Elle pulls back from the embrace just a little and reaches up with her hands, cupping Peter's face. She's forceful, but not painful in making him look at her. "I think I forgot to say thank you." She smiles, though its a little weak and adds, "Think you're up to it Superman?"

Getting Peter to look back isn't really difficult, and at her words, the serious expression finally settles down. The former hospice nurse even smiles faintly for a second, a hint of a laugh in his exhale. "Think so, yeah. Just— do me a favor and don't shock me. I know you can't control it all the time, but— this would be a good time to. I might be able to survive the fall, but…" There's less a chance that she would, even if he absorbed the impact for her. "And your welcome." With that, he leans in and nudges his nose against hers, followed by a brief kiss. "Just hold on, okay?"

"I think I know the score. I'll be your Lois," Elle says after their brief shared kiss, wrapping her arms about Peter tightly. "Makes me glad I started working on my upper body strength," she adds with a little laugh. "I'll save the shocks for once we're safely back on the ground."

If she wanted him to continue to smile, she's doing a good job. Peter tightens his arms around her and begins to work on focusing. "Could stop shocking me even when we're on the ground," he says in a not so subtle hint, even though he's not sure she'll pay it any mind. It takes a few moments, but the good part about taking off from a safe standing position— failures don't end up with faceplants in the sand.

"If you want, I could graduate you to spiked paddles and cat-o-nine-tails," is Elle's whisper in his ear. Then, of course, she's quiet so he can concentrate on mimicking his brother's power of flight. She's pressed so tightly that he can probably feel her heart nearly beating out of her chest. "You can do it, Peter."

" —that really doesn't help me concentrate, Elle," Peter says in response to the whisper, though she's got the point in quieting on her own. Really. If those are the choices, he might be willing to stick to a jolt every now and then. A few deep breaths later, even with her heart beat and pressed form as a ample distraction, they take off, climbing at high speeds until he gets settled enough to force it to slow down. His brother's form of flight doesn't happen to be built for leisurely jaunts around the town, made for speed, not comfort and maneuverability. Luckily, he knows the right direction with a glance.

It's probably a good thing that Peter can't see Elle's face as they climb through the air. The initial jolt off the group has her stifling a yelp, after which she is quiet. Very quiet. And possibly clinging to Peter even more tightly. She's also gone a little pale, but again, that's hard to see too.

Due to the relative speed, it isn't too long before Peter's feet settle on the ground in the back of the Petrelli house. Going to the back might be more discrete, even if flying really hadn't been in the first place. Loosening his hold on her, he asks in a whispered voice, "Are you okay? You weren't afraid of heights, right?" Maybe because he's flown more than a few times, he's not quite as inclined to remember that it might be tough on the stomach.

"I'm not afraid of anything," is Elle's adamant, but shaky reply. She keeps a tight hold on Peter til they touch down, after which she just remains hugging him for a moment. Air. Lungs. Calm. It doesn't help it was a cold trip. She's shivering, but hey, they're about to head inside, no? "Freezing my butt off, though. Can we commence with the reunion so we can get to snuggling in a well-heated environment?"

"Of course," Peter responds simply, though he can't help but smile, even among the shivers of his own. With that, he starts moving towards the house…

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