2007-04-08: Crash and Burn


Mara_icon.gif Nathan_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Peter phones up with good and bad news. Nathan and Mara argue briefly before both leave. Separately.

Date It Happened: April 8, 2007

Crash and Burn

Somewhere on the Streets of New York City, Mara's Hideout

The Epic Conclusion Of...

To be honest, Peter isn't even sure exactly where in the city he landed. There's only so much he can manage. The strain is almost too much, the hand isn't healing. The blood vessels in the wrist at the stump is frozen and dead, just as his hand had been. Broken… ruined… With one hand, he fishes his phone out of his rumbled, scorched and bloody coat, only to find the phone to have been fried in the radioactive burst. Stumbling towards a the closest pay phone, he has to then try to find some coins, but ends up calling collect instead. God, please pick up, Nathan…

When the phone rings out, Nathan only makes one deduction as to who it is. Never mind that his wife is probably worried and wondering where he's gone at this time of night, for instance - it can only be one other person, as far as he's concerned. Fumbling for his cell, Nathan flips it open and doesn't bother to check the ID. He forms a conclusion that only happens to be correct. "Peter?" he answers.

The sound of the phone rouses Mara from her alcohol-induced slumber. She props herself up on one elbow and leans over Nathan's shoulder where he's settled next to her on the floor by the couch. "Peter? Peter! We're okay! Where are you?"

"Nathan," Peter manages, though his voice is barely recognizable with the pain carried in it, the way he's forced to talk right now. "Mara…" They're okay. He can hear them. "Sylar— got away." The words sound like they take so much effort, and actually… they do. Leaning against the phone, he can't even brace himself while he holds the receiver close to his ear. The other arm hurts so much he doesn't dare lean on it. "Not sure… where I am…" If his breathing is any indication, he's not only in pain, but also exhausted. "Keep— keep her safe— Nathan." Anyone walking by might ignore him for a drunk, the way he's leaning, his frozen stump pressed against his darkened coat.

Nathan is silent as Peter talks, struggling not only to pick up his words, but to decipher the situation. "She's safe, Peter," Nathan says. "We're back at the apartment. Are you— what do you mean you don't know where you are?" To Mara, in case she couldn't pick up what was said, even with the close range, he adds quietly, "Gray got away."

Mara presses her ear against the phone so she can hear everything Peter's saying. "Peter, tell me what you see. We'll come get you." The emphasis on 'we' is for Nathan's benefit. No way is he leaving her alone in the apartment - especially since he had to kick the door down. And no way is she letting him go by himself. "Find a street sign. A business. Find something so we can find you."

"Flew— crashed— don't worry," Peter says, suddenly coughing into the reciever before he can stop himself. The shock is starting to get to him. Even with regeneration, there's only so much his body can take. There's a strong temptation to tell them to leave him, to take care of themselves, but… the words that she says, the chills starting to overtake him, and the knowledge that he might be heading towards a coma any minute now… he glances around. Eyes bleery for an instant, he squints, and then repeats two street signs. "…On the corner…" he adds at the end.

So much for trying to handle the situation on his own. As soon as Mara pushes in to listen, Nathan gives up, switching the phone to speaker. He can argue with her later. As a result, the sound from the phone is tinnier, but it fills the room. "Okay, you need to stay there," Nathan instructs, getting to his feet. "I'll be there in a few minutes." OH OH. WAS THAT AN 'I'.

"Keep him talking," Mara orders Nathan tersely, pulling herself off the couch. When she manages to get to both feet, she cries out. Peter can probably hear it on his end of the phone. "/Bollocks/!" One deep breath. Two… Three. Four… Five's a good number. Mara pulls herself together and uses the wall to help drag herself toward the bedroom so she can put some clothes on. "Don't let him hang up!" She throws a glare to Nathan. There's more determination in that look than anything else. She doesn't stop.

"Hurry," Peter whispers into the receiver, giving in to the offer of help. Though he can hear the cries, and the protesting over the phone, he can't stay on his feet any longer. "…sorry… Mara… need… to sit down…" Those would be the last words they'll likely hear, before he lets go of the receiver and lets it dangle. The call will stay connected, though not in the way they might want. Stumbling backward, he lands against the wall of a building and slides down. The arm, with all the damage done to it, gets stuffed under the folds of his coat. No need to draw attention to it. Has to stay conscious until they get there.

Nathan just watches Mara as she goes, disapproval almost tangible, but he's focusing on what he can hear from his phone. Or what he can't hear. "Peter," he says, sharply, trying to prompt a response, but there's nothing. There's no disconnect tone, either, so he keeps the call going anyway, moving towards the bedroom, although he stays outside. "I can't look after you both at once when we get there," he points out. Only so much a cargo jet can take, and what if there's no time for a car?

"And you can't look after us both if one of us is here and one of us is there, can you?" Fight that logic, Petrelli. Mara tugs a skirt on over her shorts and pulls a hooded sweatshirt over her head, transferring the gun to the large pocket in front. She then hurries back to Nathan's side. "You have two choices. You can take me with you and trust me to hide myself once we find Peter, or you can be a bastard and leave me here and hope for the best." It's obvious which choice Mara would prefer he make.

"Hide yourself," Nathan says, flatly. He starts towards the front door, open phone still in hand. "You can hide yourself from here. You want to come with me because you think you have an obligation to, but the only obligation I care about is you making my life easier right now so I can find my brother."

"Go on then," Mara jerks her head toward the door. "Get the fuck out of here. Save Peter."

Woah what? Nathan opens the front door, turning to look at her. Full of mistrust. Or maybe she's doing what he's telling her to. For now, he has to believe that. "If you move from this room, you call me from here and let me know where you're going," he says, firmly. Almost parental. "Don't disappear on me." And that's that. He turns to go.

After she's sure Nathan's gone, Mara looks down at the floor and smiles ruefully. "Sorry, Nathan." She speaks to herself quietly as she starts to leave the apartment. "If I tell you where I'm going, that means Gray has the chance to beat it out of you." But… she hesitates in the doorway. Damn you, Petrelli. Mara grabs the cordless phone and dials Nathan's number, hoping he'll let it go straight to voicemail since he's still on with Peter.

To the very observant, it appears that all of a sudden, a determined man in a suit is suddenly walking out of a closed-off alleyway without having gone inside previously. But luckily, at this time of night, no one is particularly observant of such shenanigans, as far as Nathan can tell. He moves to stand on the street corner. This is it. In the shadows outside of street lamps, it's hard to tell much of anything, but finally, he sees a familiar figure huddling against a building not far from him. His phone, still opened, is now clicked closed and pocketed as he approaches. "Peter."

The whole time, Peter's stared at the receiver, waiting for it to beep to get hung up, or something— anything. Hearing his own name spoken by his brother? Better. Looking over, he almost smiles, but— he looks terrible. Even in the dim lights. Leaning against the wall, he does his best to stand some, but without using his hands, this actually brings him closer to just plain leaning. The damaged arm hides under his coat, while his right hand presses over it, keeping it inside. "Nathan… where's Mara…?" he has to ask, squinting towards his brother, but not seeing her.

"Jesus, Peter," Nathan says as he comes closer, a hand reaching out to help steady him as he struggles to take his weight off the building. "Mara's safe, Gray won't be finding her." That had seemed such a certainty, and there is only that in his voice: certainty. But who knows anymore, really. He just has to trust she's smart enough to keep off the radar. "You look like you're gonna collapse, we gotta go take care of this." He's looking for what the injury is - there has to be one.

"Good… good…" Peter repeats, leaning against the hand offered by his brother, though he's refusing to take his hand out of the coat, using any remaining strength to keep it hidden. "Just take me home… my apartment…" No need to startle the children with this, or mom, or the wife. "No hospital… Just home… I'll… I'll take care… of it."

"You sure?" Nathan says, doubtful. "Last time you looked like this, you went into a coma." Obviously, that's Nathan's current concern. How many powers do you gotta use to fend off something like Gray? All the same, he tries to help Peter to stand, to walk. "Can you make it in a car?" Whether the flying is starting to wear on him or he's trying to be more cautious is unclear.

"Just— need to rest," Peter says, shaking his head, denying any possibility of a coma. He can't do this right now. There's too much going on. Too many people need him. All he has to do is hold it together a little while longer. "I'll be okay…" He says, managing a nod and leaning heavily on his brother for a walk over to the cab. If the last time had been any indication, he might have a day before he goes into the coma. A day could be enough. "..I burned down Mara's apartment.." he suddenly adds.

"…well, that's one solution I didn't think of." One arm keeping Peter upright, Nathan uses the other to flag down a cab that's making it's late night rounds for drunks with cash. "Get to your place, I'll go get Mara and we'll come meet you there, okay?" Because this night never ends. The car pulls up, Nathan opens the door. If he's aware of Peter trying to keep his hand hidden, it doesn't show.

"Okay…" Peter says, pretty much leaving it there before he practically falls into the cab, doing his best to keep the hand hidden still. The cab driver gives a 'too much to drink?' line to the young man, who just says the way to his place, the apartment he's grateful they kept now. "…see you soon…" he adds, before his brother can close the door on him. Don't mind him. He's going to try not to pass out in the car ride home now. Thanks.

God. Nathan watches the car drive off, wondering if it was a mistake not to have gotten into the cab with him. Probably. But he has to hope Peter can take care of himself for the next half an hour, as he takes out his phone to call the hideout apartment, hitting speed-dial without looking. After the tenth ring, he gives up, cursing as he brings the phone away from his ear, only to see voicemail flash once he's ended the call. Well, that's something. But he's not optimistic as he goes to play it, and when the message is over, he only switches the device off. For a long time, he stands on the sidewalk, before finally moving to walk in the vague direction of Peter's apartment. May as well. He's let too many things slip away tonight.


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