2007-10-26: Everything Matters


Elena_icon.gif Jane_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Peter and Elena meet Jane at Peter's apartment to catch the musician/lawyer up on the latest.

Date It Happened: October 26th, 2007

Everything Matters

Peter Petrelli's Apartment, Somewhere in New York City

It was approaching five in the afternoon when Peter and Elena venture to his apartment to meet with Jane, having placed a call to her sometime earlier to set-up the meet. Elena doesn't look…any better than she had been in the last few weeks. But she looks understandably exhausted today. Aside from her illness, she spent a good deal of time with Jack in the early morning thanks to a few problems he still wouldn't come clean with fully. She had left a note for the boyfriend before leaving however, to at least let her know where she had been going.

She made lunch for him to make up for the breakfast in bed she botched.

Clad in jeans, gloves, a thick coat, and a scarf to wrap around her face so she won't look like much of a freak if she wore latex gloves and a surgical mask, she casts a look towards the apartment door across the hall from Peter's, waiting for him to open his door. She steps inside, but she doesn't shed her coat off, or her scarf or gloves.

The apartment isn't the warmest place in the city anyway. Peter'd turned the heat way down when he left the last time, enough so that it's still pretty chilly when he gets the door open and steps inside, setting his keys back into his pockets. He's also wearing a coat and scarf and gloves, but he actually has latex gloves and a mask under his scarf and gloves. Stepping further inside, he motions her further in, glancing through the door at the apartment across the hall. "Let me know what you need from in there before we head back, okay? I'll grab a bag of stuff." And the good thing about him is he could grab a bag of stuff without ever touching anything. Even the bag. But the reason he picked the apartment anyway is because it's had less contamination. Less of a chance of transfer of the virus to another person. Safer.

At the offer, reminding her of what he had said the evening before, Elena's dark eyes move over to Peter's face. The slight smile is hidden under her scarf, but she does peck his cheek through it. "Thanks, I'll let you know before we leave," she tells him, and steps into the chilly apartment. It was getting a little cold - but there seems to be a small amount of heat in it still. Not comfortable enough, however, for two people who are feverish and set with the chills. While she's here, she could do a little housekeeping though, so opening Peter's fridge, she takes a huge garbage bag and starts dumping the foodstuffs that have expired. It's been a little over half a month since their symptoms surfaced, some of the stuff in his fridge would've been pretty bad by now. Might as well get it out of the way.

Not long after the pair arrive at apartment 1407, a knock comes at the door. Jane stands outside, waiting. Her features show concern. Clothing for the day is appropriate for autumn; a Yale sweatshirt over jeans and athletic shoes with a light jacket. And as might be expected she's got a guitar case over one shoulder, a backpack over the other. The pack is slung off and held in hand as she waits, ready to pull out and use one of the items inside it if needed.

There's a sound from Peter as if he might protest her cleaning out his fridge, but finally he just makes a sigh and shakes his head. At least her mouth is covered and her nose might not smell the worst of it. Wilted veggies are a major concern, and they don't smell the best when they've gone rotten. There's new things growing in his fridge. "I'm starting to think I should stop cooking. Everytime I stock the fridge something happens for a month," he says with a sigh, before hearing the sound at the door. Glancing through the peeking hole, he looks back to Elena. "It's Jane. Just throw that into the trash container." And spray some oust or something? He gives a few moments before he unlocks and opens the door. "Thought you were going to wear a biohazard suit?"

She's had to clean up worse, don't worry. Elena isn't a squeamish person, after all. So when their guest arrives, she looks up and nods, sealing the bag tightly and spraying a good amount of Febreeze in the air so no one would be able to smell the wilted veggies and the like. "I'd say that but I like it when you cook," she says, smiling over at Peter - even if he can't see it, he can probably tell. When he addresses Jane, she waves at her friend, and dumps the garbage bag in the garbage container for now so she can take it out later on the way out. She ate like a horse, so her fridge in her apartment is, at least, empty. Save perhaps some cheese, which are probably cultivating their own little green civilizations at the moment.

"Peter. Thank you," Jane greets quietly. The concern remains on her features, her eyes study the man before her. "I've got one. I'm not wearing it yet because, well, walking around in it? So not a good idea. Draws bad attention. And there's also confidence, this thing will be beaten so it doesn't matter if I get infected too. I'm even more confident," she adds with a slight smile, "since you didn't stay across the room and shout for me to come in, leaving room to put it on. Would you prefer I do?"

The sight of Elena behind him draws an enthusiastic hand gesture of the same kind as she waits to be asked inside. "Emma," she offers. "So good to see you, chica."

"You could have put it on the the stairwell and said you were an exterminator, or something," Peter says through his own facemask, the gloved hands raising up to show that— well— chance of infection is low right NOW, but the longer she's around it's different. "We took precausions of our own, too, but it's better if you put it on in the kitchen, yeah. Just in case." With that said, he moves away from the door, to give her room, before he goes into his living room and settles down on the couch. He still keeps coat, gloves and scarf on. She may be confident, but he's a little more worried. After all. Dream told him if would be all his fault.

"It's good to see you too, Jane. Sorry we didn't get to talk sooner," Elena says softly, and it does sound apologetic. She doesn't really explain why, with everything that had to be dealt with. But to give Jane some room in the kitchen, she steps out of it as well. "We'll see you in the living room," she tells her. And then, she moves inside the living room. She doesn't join Peter yet. Instead, she vanishes into the bedroom so she could pack some fresh clothes for him. While the Petrelli mansion does have some of Peter's clothes in it, he's been wearing the same things for a few weeks. He might want a new set of clothes in case he needs to go out again. Packing that up in the bag they brought, she leaves it on the bed in case he thinks of something else to take, moving to the living room finally and take a seat next to him. Leaning back, she closes her eyes. It looks like she could fall asleep right there.

In she comes, as Peter and Elena retreat, closing the door behind her. Jane goes directly to the kitchen and speaks as she begins to alter her clothing. "I took a long trip," she relates in a voice just loud enough to hopefully reach them. "Saw a lot of places. Walked the zebra crossing at Abbey Road barefoot and smoking, checked out some famous birthplaces. Clapton, McCartney and Lennon. Played guitar at the Eiffel Tower and visited Jim Morrison's grave. Then on to Berlin." Non-vocal sounds might be heard, of the various things involved with donning her protective gear.

When she emerges, it's in a full-on biohazard suit with gloves and a surgical mask over her face. One hand carries the hood with faceplate and filters. The other is clutching a wine bottle and two glasses. "Good enough?" she asks.

"That works, but I think I'll pass on the alcohol, if that's okay. Thank you, though." Peter says from where he's sitting, glancing back over his shoulder to where his girlfriend packed a bag for him. He looks back at her, his eyes giving that 'you didn't have to do that' glance, before he looks back at Jane. "We don't stay here, so it should be safe for you to sit down, especially now." With the whole suit. That he admits, does look pretty silly. "You wanted to talk, and there is stuff that we probably can't tell you, but if there is— it's for a reason. Confidental and everything…" he looks down where his gloved hands toy with his pantleg. "Even if we don't know what caused it, we're pretty sure it started in Sinai over half a year ago. I mentioned that on the phone. Started there, lay dorment… and then… mutated a short time ago into something else. You remember how I have regeneration? That's supposed to keep me from getting sick. I wasn't even sure that was the case, but except for overloading myself, I shouldn't get sick— until this. This is actually resistant to regeneration."

The look cast to her is only met with a smile, but nothing else. Turning to the topic at hand, the Gomez girl shakes her head. "A friend of mine managed to get a lead that Cass and a colleague of hers are checking out now," Elena supplies from where she's seated, tucking her hands into her pockets and trying her best to turtle into her warm cocoon of clothing. "We haven't heard anything from her yet. So far, only a handful of us are sick and tested positive for it, and we're trying to keep it to just us. Aside from that there really isn't much to tell, Jane. We have no idea what the hell this is. We have so little to go on at this point."

"It wouldn't surprise me if the Company had a hand in this," Jane replies with a measure of scorn entering her voice. The overall volume remains muted, but it's clear how she regards that operation. "Elle told me some things about past activities months ago." She won't elaborate, perhaps presuming Peter was told the same data. "I don't know much about how regeneration works, science wasn't my most favorite topic, but I wouldn't expect anyone with it to get sick. I'd think any injury to DNA would be repaired."

She sets down the wine bottle and glasses, remarking "I wasn't sure this would be practical, given the situation, but I wanted to share a drink with friends. Originally in case my time was short, and now to toast it not being so. And, of course, toast you finding each other." Her eyes move from one to the other, an expression of mild chiding coming over her, "even though I found out in the newspaper."

There's a glance at one of the many things said by his girlfriend, and Peter grimaces visibly, even if the bottom part of his face is covered by a scarf and hiding it fairly well. Jane offers a hint of distraction, but the last bit also makes him grimace. For a different reason. "I think the Company did have a hand in this. At least originally," he finally says, glancing over at his girlfriend. "Cass didn't want me to know about this, which is why I haven't mentioned it, but… this virus is a third version of another virus. The first version… led to death. Eventually." Which from the way his eyes lower, is exactly why he hasn't brought it up.

"The second version robbed someone of their abilities— remember how Sylar didn't have abilities the first time he got brought up? I think that's why. I think he had this." There's a pause, he raises a hand and one of the wine glasses raises up from the table a bit, before settling back down. "Except for my regeneration nor working as it should, all my other abilities work fine. And the cures that worked for this virus before… don't work. Because it's mutated into something different. Like two strains combined into one, making the dorment virus we picked up in Sinai aggressive."

"….what…?" Elena says. "…why….why are there…" She doesn't understand. If it was something that dangerous, why the hell would they want to keep it? Why won't they destroy it? And why are there second and third versions? "What exactly are they trying to do?" She's so stunned she doesn't even get upset at not being told, not outwardly, though by the look on her face it's clear that it stung a little - she wasn't a child. They kept her from seeing people die as it is. Still, she can't help but wonder just why they'd risk experimenting with a dangerous virus. She can't help but rub her face. Just what the hell were they trying to accomplish anyway? She didn't get it.

"So that's what happened to him." Save for killing people and taking their abilities, Elena didn't really know much about Sylar, or why his powers were gone one moment, and there again the next. She nods at what Peter says with what the third version is. "That's what I think anyway - that it mutated from the strain that was introduced to us during the Sinai quarantine if that's where we actually got it from." Her eyes move over to the wineglass set on the table. At what Jane says, she gives her a small smile, and she shrugs. "We didn't want to make a big deal about it," is all she says. She was a private person when it came to some things. Seeing all of that in the papers probably made her wince on more than a few occasions.

"Overconfidence, arrogance, just plain evil," Jane offers in answer to Elena's questions. "They operate in the shadows, overseen and answering to no one. They've convinced themselves they're the guardians of the world, and possibly don't even consider the chances of something getting out. So… it changed. Two possibilities, really. It adapted on its own, or someone altered it." Her brows furrow. "Three possibilities. Both A and B."

Her eyes rest on the bottle and glasses again. "I want you to get drunk and silly with me when the virus is cured, Emma. Twenty-one is too long to wait, law be damned." Because life can be short.

"I just know that… the virus was known to the Company and they're the ones who knew how to cure it before," Peter explains, looking down to his hands for a long time. Well, glove covered hands, but there is that much. He takes in a slow breath. "But it was… someone said that they might be behind it. Since… Elle's father was in Sinai with us. And this was back when he'd been willing to threaten to kill me if I didn't cooperate. If I really caught it all the way back then. I'm not sure really." He could be thinking too much about this, but the dream told him it would be his fault in the end. What if it was his fault for trying to save Elle and take her away from the Company? He closes his eyes a moment. "Or something I did in the future might have changed it." Which also means… "I might have left it behind in the future I was in, too. What if I…?" he trails off, sounding a little hopeless for a minute. Drunk and silly might be good talk, but he's a little stuck in his self-blame again. "Maybe it was made to go after me specifically. Or someone else with regeneration."

"Maybe. We'll know more when Cass comes back." Or so she hopes. Elena reaches out to rest a hand gently on Peter's shoulder. He was doing it again, but she didn't want to refute anything in front of Jane. It might cause another fight - and she didn't have the energy for one. Either way, she's not going to believe it was all Peter's fault unless incontrovertible proof was staring her in the face. To Jane, she shakes her head. "I'm afraid the way I am, I'm not….unless I use my powers -on- myself, I'm not able to get drunk anyway." At least, so she thinks. She's imbibed before and while she felt the effects sometimes, it would be gone in a minute or two. "Anyways….that's honestly all we know, Jane. We should get going. I'm sorry to cut this short and I know we took precautions, but we're…not exactly well."

Be positive. Mix some lighter things in with the more serious subject under discussion. Exude confidence. That's Jane's strategy. She doesn't address Peter's worries right off. Her attention is instead on Elena. "Seriously? That… just sucks. You can't have the best of both, get drunk and make yourself sober again at will? I'd kill to be able to do that."

It's only then her eyes move to rest on Peter. "If you left it in the future you visited, it hardly matters, man. Solve the virus here, solve it there too. I doubt it was aimed at you personally, or anyone else who regenerates. You are, after all, not the only one who has it. Things aren't always all about you, or any one other person. Don't drive yourself crazy following that path."

And she stands, leaving the bottle where she placed it. "We'll enjoy this when you're well. And you will be well." There's not a trace of doubt in her voice. "Contact me again soon, please. There's more than just the virus to talk about."

"Last year, I tried desperately to believe I wasn't going to be the bomb, tried to believe it was everyone except me. It was still me, Jane," Peter says, moving to stand up and pulling away from the attempted comfort for the moment. A dream had told him he was the bomb, and he hadn't wanted to believe it, and look where it got him. He never would have met Ted if he hadn't tried to find him to stop him. He never would have gone to fight Sylar if he hadn't thought he was the bomb. His refusal to accept the dream ended up causing it. "And it does matter. That future isn't the one that we're creating. Fixing it here doesn't fix it there." Because he doesn't want to change everything about the world he went to. "Don't tell me it doesn't matter." It matters to him, as is pretty obvious. He doesn't move to show her out the door, instead retreating towards the bedroom. Probably to pack up his things. It might not have been aimed at him like he thinks, but something he did made this happen.

They've had a similar conversation before. His confidence gets low, he takes on the weight of so many things, and needs an injection of optimism to turn things around. "Peter," Jane replies in a calm voice. Her words aren't spoken with hostility or anger, the volume remains conversational. "Bad things can happen. In a lot of cases they will happen. But good things happen too. New York didn't blow up. You weren't alone, other people around you stepped up to the plate, and that's happening again. You're not alone. Won't be left to carry the whole burden by yourself. That's why I'm here, despite the risk. I don't, and won't, abandon my friends. Ever. Because I believe in you, and Elena, and Cass, and Nathan. All of us."

Her eyes close for a moment after he's gone into the bedroom, when they reopen she's looking at the Latina. Not a word is said, she simply shows an expression which asks if she appears to be making sense.

There is silence when Peter removes himself from the conversation to go to the bedroom. "I'll walk you out," is all Elena says after a pause, shaking her head once and standing up from the couch. She hands Jane the wine bottle back, because she's not opening it any time soon, and once the musician/lawyer takes it, she leads the way to the door and opens it. She doesn't comment on Peter's outburst, or what Jane says. "Thank you for coming, Jane. We'll figure it out. Besides, most of the problems seem pretty squared away anyway." Villains were re-caught. Sylar was in holding (or so she thinks), all they really had left to do in the dream was the virus. It was, perhaps, the biggest problem but with one thing to focus on, at least resources won't be spread around.

"I never said I was doing this alone," Peter says from the bedroom, since the wide open french doors don't really block off much of the apartment. He wasn't going that far. Even as they approach the door, he can still see them from where he is. For the moment. Not much longer, though, because he turns to check the bag that she got, see which clothes she picked out, before he goes to the dresser— and ends up looking into the sectioned mirror. "Good bye, Jane," he adds after a moment, saying nothing else, though.

The words are quiet, spoken in Spanish, as the two reach the door. Jane's skilled with that tongue, though she still can't quite roll the r's properly. "I'm not just saying positive things to be positive, Emma. I really believe we're tougher than anything thrown at us. You're tougher than anything thrown at you. Take care, chica."

Then she returns to English, speaking up to reply "See you, Peter." And then she's gone with her guitar case, backpack, and wine bottle. Soon the biohazard gear is shed and tucked away.

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