2007-10-14: It's All My Fault


Cass_icon.gif Elena_icon.gif Evelyn_icon.gif Nathan_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif Samantha_icon.gif

Summary: Inquiries about the virus leads to a startling realization that creates some problems for Bat Country Labs. In the form of half the lab equipment getting messed up. Cass chose a bad time to step outside.

Date It Happened: October 14th, 2007

It's All My Fault

Bat Country Labs

Cont'd from Is There A Doctor In The House?

If he says he can, who is she to argue? Evelyn tags along behind Peter, careful not to crowd him. Making a face at the proposition of 'politician camp'. But, whatever. She looks through the doorway around Peter to see Cass — and spots the woman's company. That's unexpected.

"Believe me, I've been working on this for about a week now and I'm not getting any further. As for the best I can get…well. I might have gotten him already. I just think fresh eyes might be a good idea." Cass starts leading the way to the others when Peter is already in the doorway. "Oh! Peter. Wow. You have excellent timing. This is Dr. Applebaum." She gestures toward Samantha and then smiles at Evelyn. "Hi." Looking back over her shoulder, she points to a drawer. "There are gloves in there." Just to be careful. Cass hasn't used any gloves in trying to treat Peter or the others, but she already tested herself and found out that she wasn't sick. "She's here to help and would like to examine someone."

"Why aren't you wearing any?" Sam can't help but chide the clinician, as she reaches to strap on a pair of synthetic lovelies. And to think, there's folks in Greenwich Village who'd pay for the privelege. "Hello, Peter." she greets affably. "I remember when you did your ER rotation at Sinai. Good to see you again." Oh, wait a minute! She adds absently, "I treated your brother a couple of times. He's a lousy patient."

The company that the woman he works for has does seem to surprise him. Peter's hand drags along the door frame for a moment before he forces himself a few steps forward. The hand slides up over his hair, much shorter than when she last saw him, and it's been over a year now. "Dr. Applebaum, hey," he says, voice whispered and tired, possibly even weak. "My brother mentioned you briefly." Doesn't sound like the terrible patient thing surprises him. Glancing toward the scientist who's been looking over them, then back at Evelyn, then says, "I can do that, sure."

Evelyn smiles a little in Cass' direction, and nods towards Sam. "Okay." That probably means the whole 'outside' idea is postponed, huh? She glances to either side and locates a chair, then moves over and sits in it. In case she's wanted for examination. Or just to wait until whatever's happening is done, if with relatively poor grace.

The chiding is met with a wave of her hands. "I've already been tested, don't have it." In fact, Cass is pretty sure she can't get it at all, but that part will be disclosed later, if at all. "I make sure to wash my hands, but I've been working with these people for longer than a week. If I was going to have it, I'd have it by now." There's a bit of a smirk when she's told that Nathan was a lousy patient. "Why doesn't that surprise me." Because she's already tried to work with Nathan and the results she had were not much better than Samantha's. "There's a room just there," she also points to a very small room right off the lab. "Feel free to use it for the check up. I'll be right here if you need me." No need to hover and make Samantha nervous. Or the patients nervous. Besides, it'd get too crowded in there and she would have little to contribute.

"Sanitary protocols are in place for a reason. You could lose your license." Sam tells her bluntly. "And just because you're not infected doesn't mean you can't pick up anything secondary they develop." She can't make Cass wear gloves, but if Cass had that attitude in her ER? Sam would toss her out on her heinie. "Run me down the list of infected? I believe that included you." she points at Peter. "What's keeping you from being laid out?"

"There's four of us that we know of right now," Peter says, sending a cautious look by way of Cass. "I'm actually the worse of the four— but that's… I'm still able to stand and move around," he says, stepping in the direction of the small room indicated, before he looks back at Cass again, "When this is over, I'd like to go get some fresh air with Evelyn if that's okay. Just a short walk outside— we'll be careful and stay within the medical center grounds." It's half phrased as a request, there's no doubt in the second half he intends to do it anyway. Haven't been outside for a week. Fresh air might help with things. "My brother and my girlfriend are the other two."

Listening to the others talk, Evelyn props her elbows on her knees and rests her chin in her hands. Violet eyes flicker briefly towards the little room, but don't stay there long; they return to the trio of adults afterwards.

It's a good thing that Cass doesn't work in an ER. Or in Sam's ER. "I know." However, the woman doesn't follow them toward the back room. "This is officially a lab, not a clinic." Hence why it's Bat Country Labs, even if that doesn't really make a difference. "I normally do." It's just that…these are her friends, not patients. And she doesn't want them to think she's seeing them as just patients. Looking to Samantha, the store owner nods. Fresh air could really help. Especially since they've been in a basement for about a week and they're about to move anyway. "I'd say it's alright, but let's wait until Dr. Applebaum agrees or disagrees, too." She gives a nod to Peter.

The argument about gloves had been partially missed, so he doesn't comment on it really, though he does glance at his boss the more she responds to the scolding. "I meant of the four of us in Bat Country," Peter says, looking right back, even as he moves into the examination room, taking a seat so she can look him over. "I'm not sure how the other people who had something similar ended up…" There's a hint he's not quite telling the truth. "Or I never saw how they progressed— from what I heard it seems to be a slightly different strain."

Samantha lifts a brow. "If you're going to lie to me, I'm not going to waste my time." Sam puts the file down. Peter's hit a peeve - Sam abhors being lied to.

"I'm not lying," Peter says, voice tightening. "I never saw what happened to them, and I was only told the extent of the last virus earlier today." And as he says that he glances through the door in the young teenager's direction. "And this is a different strain, since it's progressing differently, so the symptoms from before are not exactly the same. The circumstances are different."

"How so?" inquires Sam patiently. "You're definitely not giving me the full story. You want my help? I can't work with blinders."

"What has Cass told you about this?" Peter asks, looking back at the doctor. "I know the first strain of the virus could lead to death." From th eway he lowers his voice a little, he doesn't exactly want to say that too loud, since there is a young sixteen year old who has the same virus nearby, "I know it was a degenerative neurological disease. I'm not sure if the effects are the same here as they were then, though, since all that's happened to us so far is flu-like symptoms."

"I know what she's shown me on the reports." Sam says softly. "It's actually a secondary strain that seems to have conjoined with the initial dormant strain to make itself into a whole new brand of bad. I need to see the labs when they get back, and it's also vital that we figure out what the contagion trigger is. And what the common markers are for why some people seem to get infected and others don't. If I was a conspiracy theorist I'd say it was designed."

"Could've been designed, but it wasn't…" Peter trails off, suddenly blinking and backtracking to something she said at the beginning. "What do you mean a secondary strain conjoined with an initial dormant strain?"

"And you know that for certain how?' Sam inquires, but picks up the file again and offers it to him. "Look for yourself. Your brother was initially believed to have been in the zone of contagion for hentavirus, but it's possible what he got in contact with was the dormant half of this little puzzle." A blink. "Which might explain the selective exposure. But that means you were also infected, and I was with your brother in the contained area, and I'm fine. So far, anyway."

"No I didn't— it could be engineered, I don't know. I just didn't finish what I was going to say." Peter shakes his head, knowing he chose a bad point in his sentance to cut off. But something about the two strains worried him. "The other three who are here were in the second area. But we all started out in the emergency room before they split us up for the quarantine. So we might have caught a dormant strain then?"

Samantha nods. "In which case, we may want to see if we can follow up on the records of who was there and see if anyone else has come down with symptoms. But again, it's a bit off target, so again we're trying to figure out common contagion factor."

"I don't think there was a common contagion, besides being in the ER together," Peter says, shaking his head. "I might have shared a drink with one of the others in here, but I didn't even touch the other two— and Nathan was in a different room entirely, the one you visited, apparently. So I don't know what the common contagion there could have been. But how do you think it stopped being dorment? It's been six months since that quarantine and we're just now showing symptoms and…" he trails off, eyes sliding away.

"It's a virus." Sam says. "And even viruses have rules. Contagion factor being one of them. It's not airborn, it's apparently not transmitted by touch, those infected seem somewhat random too with few if any common shared factors for the infection grid. It doesn't behave like any normal virus I've heard of, and if you want to look under the scope, you can see the viral bacteria as two distinct forms that have come together to form something new. What are you thinking?" she presses, seeing his eyes darting away from her.

"We weren't given anything in Sinai that might have been shared between all of us, but it's possible that…" Peter's voice trails off, looking unsure, but then suddenly angry. Doesn't look right with his skin pale and flushed all at once, making his jaw a little lighter as his mouth clenches shut. His hands go up and scrub over his face, before he looks back at her. "This wasn't supposed to happen. If you're saying there's a second strain that made this all worse then… It didn't happen. Not until I…" There's that frustrated sound, his voice raises a little in the frustration— and raises a lot more than he'd originally intended, in fact. "This is MY fault." And the sound waves extend out from him, shatting glass that it meets on it's way.

The raised voice draws Evelyn out of whatever thoughts she was preoccupying herself with, hands rising to her ears — and the shattering of glassware sends her out of the chair in a rush, the hapless piece of furniture clattering over onto its side. Fortunately, the surprise doesn't trigger a full self-defense application of her power — just surprise. What glassware doesn't shatter from the effects of Peter's yell is toppled by the gale-force wind that coils around the main room and slops over into the adjacent ones, fed by Evelyn's tension and apprehension. "Peter?!"

Samantha ducks down, her hands coming over her head and then slowly getting up and looking around. "The fuck!" she declares in a loud and unprofessional voice. "How did you do that?" she demands. "I'm the only one who ever - " she skids to a stop, not wanting to complete that sentence.

As soon as the outburst finishes, Peter seems to realize just what he did and stares, wide eyed. Even if he had some clue of an ability similar to this, it felt different, and the most he'd ever gotten out of that one was a headache at dog whistles. Despite his illness, he jumps off of the table in the examination room off of the lab, where Evelyn was, and first looks alarmedly at the doctor, before going to the door to look at what destruction he caused— combined with Evelyn. "Are you okay?" He's suddenly more concerned than frustrated and angry. "I didn't…" Well, that's part his fault too. He looks back at the woman who cut off, didn't finish what she was saying, "I don't— I've never done that before. Is that— do you—?"

The ONE TIME Nathan is actually doing what he should, getting some rest… The sound of yelling is enough to draw him out of bed, through the hallway and towards the man laboratory, pulling an indoor jacket over a t-shirt and comfortable pants, very obviously having just rolled out of bed. At the entrance way, he simply— stands. And looks at the scene of broken glass and tipped over— well, everything. "Jesus, what— " He almost doesn't want to know.

Looking back at Peter, Evelyn swallows. "I… I'm fine…" Having not been close to said glassware… The wind, thankfully, settles, along with the havoc it wreaked in local air pressure, but the air remains fitful and restless, tugging at Evelyn's hair — and everyone else's, too. She shoves it back behind her ears, to no avail, and winces as the effects register. "I… what…" Her thoughts are pretty clearly evident — 'What just happened?' and 'Cass is going to kill me.' Since the distinction between glass-she-didn't-shatter and wind-toppled-glass is a very fine one Evelyn didn't catch at all in the chaos.

Samantha is still taking a moment, mouth open, and then, "You just did what I do. How did you do that?" She gestures vaguely back and forth between herself and Petrelli.

The hot shower helped, but not much. Stepping out with wet hair and dressed for bed, because there's nothing to do but struggle to catch up on homework AND bed, Elena steps out, bleary eyed and pale, and her stare is a little more than just feverish. Moving towards the commotion, she doesn't even realize what happened, not yet, looking half-delirious and out of sorts with a towel dangling limply from her hand and moisture soaking into the fabric of her tanktop. Her hair is a wet, tumbled mass, dark tendrils curled over her face and the sides of her neck. Now that she was out of the hot steam, it was cold again. And when she steps on several pieces of broken glass with her right foot, crimson blooms onto the floor rather quickly. She doesn't even seem to notice the pain. "…what….what's going on…?" she murmurs hoarsely.

"I absorb the abilities of others," Peter explains, looking back around at the lab and wincing. There will be some murder happening for this, but… "I'll pay her back— somehow— it's not your fault, Evelyn. I did this and…" he trails off, but it's obvious he noticed the look on her face, since she's about as much an open book as he was. His own frustration and horror have faded into shock, worry, and now… another kind of guilt. A smaller kind. He just ruined his boss' lab. And here come his brother and his girlfriend both. There's a grimace. He's still hanging near the doorway leading into the examination room, standing outside of the area of the broken glass and knocked down beakers. "I— I yelled… really loud." That's one way of putting it. And while she may not notice the blood, he sees the blood and— "Stop, Elena, don't— there's glass every where." And the lab just got contaminated. Just… Still hanging onto the doorframe, he raises one of his hands and a lot of the glass on the floor starts to lift up.

Samantha is so not having this…this chaos. "Sit down." Sam not-quite-snaps at Elena. "I'll need a look at your feet now." Cranky doctor is cranky. She also adds, "Hello, Nathan." Apparently sitting with him in the burn ward and giving him a fuschia band-aid earn her the right to call him Nathan now. Don't mess with her, okay? Viruses aren't behaving as they should, Peter's defying the laws of physics, and Elena just walked barefoot into an obviously glass covered room. Just. Don't. Mess. With. Her.

And against the doorframe, Nathan leans, now simply taking in the obvious chaos with tired almost-amusement. Well. At least his breaking of one or two beakers has been outclassed, and Cass can never complain about it again. Not after this. He's squinting a little against the light of laboratory, and under these lights, the paleness and sleeplessness is evident. It's safe to assume that people staying here are indeed sickly and Nathan isn't exempt. Finally, he notes who else is in the immediate vicinity, gaze falling on the doctor when she addresses him. That gets a few blinks of surprise, then, "Hello Samantha." Hey, if he gets called by his first name, so does she. "Glad you could make it."

Evelyn looks around at each person in turn as they all come into the lab room, and takes a couple of steps backwards. Where 'backwards' also means 'in the direction of the exit'. Another coherent ribbon of air swirls through the room, though with no more force than a mild breeze. Between the relative crowd and the jangling of her nerves, the teen isn't at all inclined to put up with this little space any longer. "I… I'll be… outside…" she informs Peter, before darting out the door, footsteps fading at a run.

Once Evelyn's gone, the air abruptly calms and acts like it should. Which is to say, not at all.

Samantha looks after Evelyn, and then back to Peter, and then Nathan. And back to Peter. And then Nathan. Like a tennis match. Then she jabs a finger in Nathan's direction. "What do you do?"

The streak of crimson comes from her big toe on her right foot, Elena watching pieces of glass lifting from the floor as if mesmerized. She can hear Peter speaking to her but she can't really…she shakes her head, trying to clear the buzzing, and glances down at the floor. Realization, thankfully, hits her, and a garbled curse escapes her mouth. "That needs bleach… one to ten dilution," she says faintly. "Gloves…" At least her brain has something to focus on, remembering how to take care of biological spills in a lab environment when the contagion isn't airborne. But when she sits down she's careful to keep her feet off the floor and immediately wrap her bleeding toe and apply pressure on it.

"Wait, Evelyn…" Peter starts to protest, but it fades off, because he knows she really does need to go outside now, before she does worse. When the wind dies down, he floats the glass in the air and dumps it into a nearby trash can. It's the most cleanup he can offer right now, but he does look at Samantha and say, "I should handle her foot— you're not infected and since we don't know how this spreads— and if you…" he trails off. "Just be careful." He doesn't move to help her himself, because the doctor IS better at it, and will be careful, he's sure, but he does move to find the cleaning supplies,

As Evelyn runs out the room, Nathan steps further inside the lab, mostly to get out of her way. Then, his eyebrows raise when Samantha points to him, and asks that question. There is only the slightest of pauses, the man obviously caught slightly off-balance. "Me? I'm a politician," he says, blandly. "But you already knew that." Hey, if he can get away with a coy answer rather than a real one, he's going to take the opportunity.

"You're a big fat liar, and while that's generally synonymous with politician, in this case I mean something entirely different." Sam says. She looks over at Peter. "Put on gloves." she says. "I don't care if Cass wants to endanger her license, you're a nurse and you know better. You can do something, that girl can do something, can all the people infected do something?"

"I know," Peter says with a hint of frustration in his voice, but quickly curbs it. He knows where that led before— probably not a good idea to raise his voice anymore. The first thing he does is snap clean gloves on, and then get to work on it. Her question makes him glance toward his brother and girlfriend, though, because that's not a question he's necessarily entitled to answer. So he avoids it by busying himself with getting cleaning supplies together.

It doesn't hurt, but she cheats that way. Elena's eyes wander over to Evelyn as she runs out quickly to…do something…maybe get out of the crowded place. "…is she going to be alright…?" she croaks hoarsely from where she is, though her voice is barely audible, worn down considerably by coughing for the past three days. Still seated in the chair, she keeps applying pressure to the wound, an apologetic glance cast to Peter as he cleans her blood off the floor properly. And then, to Nathan…and the strange woman she doesn't really know, but who the politician seems to know. She doesn't respond, after all, she doesn't know Sam, and it'd be rude to just interject when Nate and her are talking.

"As always, sympathetic towards the sick," Nathan says, of Samantha. Okay, so, he's only met her twice, but they were very telling moments! He looks towards Elena with some concern, having not spoken to the girl too much despite their mutual stay at the labs, and he seems about to move back in and claim a seat of his own. However, he stays propped up against the wall near the doorway, so he can make an exit whenever suits him. When Peter doesn't seem prepared to field Samantha's question, the younger Petrelli gets a slightly annoyed glance. After all, he knows the situation better than Nathan. Another pause, then a nod. "Yeah. We all can 'do something'," he says, and doesn't seem happy about admitting it. "That's the point of this whole thing, right? It's infecting people like us."

"I'm sympathetic to the ones who aren't belligerent." Samantha volleys back, but her edge dials down a good bit when the truth is out. "It's something," she concedes, "But it still doesn't explain why I haven't succumbed." She looks back at Peter. "Was there any dormancy period after the second part of the viral strain came into contact?" In short, should she be expecting to get sick, and if so, how long until then?

And because Nathan can be petty, he cuts into the rather important conversation with, "Oh really? So what do you do?" he asks of Samantha. He didn't really make the connection between what Peter somehow did to the labs and the doctor - because well, Peter is a swiss army knife of chaos.

"I'm not sure when we contacted the second strain," Peter says, looking over at her for a long moment. "But if you have the dorment one, you might want to get tested again soon now," there's a grimace on his face as he starts to clean up the floor first. Not happy, this time. And he doesn't answer his brother's question to the doctor.

Samantha gives Nathan a very pointed look, the kind designed to make nice Jewish boys and nice Italian boys cower. Of course, Nathan's all growed up, and Sam ain't his mother. Her tone is velvet smooth as she supplies, "Sonic projection. You?" She looks back to Peter. "Can I trouble you to take a blood sample from me, Peter? I'd appreciate it."

"Everyone present that day should…" Elena croaks from where she's seated. The cut has pretty much clotted now, but she doesn't dare risk it. Not after Peter cleaning up the blood from the floor. "The day of the Hantavirus quarantine…if that's where we're tracing this to." Her head felt heavy, and she leans her head back. She smiles at Nathan though, at the look, before she closes her eyes and sagging on the chair. Ever-present fatigue suffuses into her bones like nothing else. She felt heavier than the measly 115 pounds she was….maybe less now, considering her appetite hasn't been the same and her powers are still, for the moment, unscathed and unravaged by the virus.

…what is it with people not being secretive about their powers? Is he the only one! Well, he's the only public figure. Nathan kind of just squints at Samantha when his bluff is basically called, then at Peter. Then back at Samantha. Then at Elena. Then at all of them. "You know what?" he tells the room, in his ever-rough voice made only rougher from whatever is ailing most of the people in this room. "I'm going back to bed." In his defense, he does look like he needs it, but it's also a cunning away to escape. He turns to go do that without much of a goodbye at all.

"Yeah, I'll take your blood," Peter says, after he finishes moping up the blood left behind by Elena. He can't really blame his brother when he finally does exit, grimacing a little. He had to threaten to jump off the roof for his brother to admit his ability to him. "All the ones exibiting symptoms have abilities, yes," he finally does say, once his brother's left. He won't say what it is, but leaving might well be an answer. "And she's talking about a second strain. Why the virus changed, why it became more than— than it was. Because we both know this never should have happened and…" He trails off, shaking his head. The cleaning supplies are put away, but there's glass and other broken things laying around still, and he has to find the supplies to take a blood sample. Since now— well— she might be infected.

Samantha points Peter wordlessly to her kit, a suitcase made of hard plastic. "There's extra gloves in there too." she tells him.

"G'night, Nate," Elena says drowsily, her eyes remaining closed. And then, she says nothing for a while, slumped in the chair and her head tipped back like so.

Already changing his gloves out and washing hands, Peter steps over to the suitcase and opens it, grabbing the supplies in there before motioning her towards a chair. "Sit down, please, Doctor," he then she'll know the motions even better than he does by now— Blood will be drawn. "You okay Elena?" he asks, even as he waits for the vial to fill up. She's not looking very well. Neither is he, honestly, but something seems to have pushed him to do more than he would have a few days ago.

Samantha looks after Nathan in departure, and sits dutifully. She's a cooperative patient, though can't help but ask, "So what does he do?" She's a lot less prickly without the keeping of secrets. Especially those secrets which could have prevented her from getting anywhere with the virus.

"I'm so tired…" Elena's voice is quiet, almost breathy. Though her eyes flicker open as strains of Peter's earlier words return back to her. "…what second strain…?" It sounded…well. Worrisome. She lifts her heavy head so she could look at the 'doctor' (a colleague of Cass's?) and Peter, who's busily drawing out her blood with gloved hands. But her head can't help but fall back, boneless.

"I don't think the type of ability has anything to do with the virus' progression— except maybe my regeneration," Peter says, glancing towards the door. There's some hesitation as he pulls out the vial and needle and goes to seal it and write something on a sticker to place around it. "I can heal from almost any wound— supposedly diseases as well, but this one's different. And I'm not sure how. All my other abilities work fine, even if I'm sick, but I'm regenerating much slower than before." With the vial of blood put away, he adds in a thick whispered voice, "You're the medical student— you'd probably understand it as well as I would, but the doctor can explain it better than me." The way his voice clips, he's definitely angry about something. Which might explain his sudden ability to walk across the room without needing to hold onto the wall.

Samantha says quietly, "Would you set it up to go to the lab, Peter? Thank you." Mindful of the glass and seeming not to mind that Nathan's power remains a mystery, she moves to pick up the original file and carefully makes her way to Elena. "Samantha is fine. Sam even. As opposed to 'the doctor'." She permits herself to be amused as she opens the file and shows Elena. "You see this shot here? This is the viral strain we thought was the original hentavirus. Now here," another microscope shot, "Is what we're dealing with now. You see how there's two virii there? Fitting together like yin and yang, making something entirely new yet still keeping a certain amount of disparity."

When Samantha moves over to her, Elena straightens up from the chair, looking up at the woman as she moves over to show her a folder. She takes it carefully, as if it were made of onion skin, and she looks at the shots. She didn't have her glasses with her, so she peers in close and squints at it, trying to make do with the light and the proximity. Though Samantha's explanation…. "Wait a minute…" she whispers, rubbing her eyes. "I….are you telling me that the first strain, the dormant strain, -replicated- into itself and this copy mutated and fused with the original strain?" That was the only way she could discern how there were suddenly -two- strains now, and meshed into one but, as Sam says, maintain a certain set of differences. It couldn't have come from the air. The original strain probably gave birth to it. Where else could it have come from? "Oh my god," she says a little helplessly. "…how? Is it because of….how our bodies are?"

"This didn't happen until I— took my trip," Peter says in a thick and rather angry voice. Honestly he is angry. And that's what's keeping him upright. But at least he's not yelling anymore. The vial is placed somewhere to get shipped off to a lab that's not currently broken. He'll have so many apologies to make, and then he changes his gloves yet again— It looks as if he wants to keep moving, keep doing something, but he ends up putting his hands on the counter and holding himself upright. "This is my fault, Elena," he says in that same whispered voice. "I came back and this changed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And I saw all of you within a week or two of getting back— you and Nathan the very same day."

"A second strain was introduced." Sam says. "Though, replication…I hadn't thought of replication." She gives Elena an appreciative look, the girl's won some points. "The original strain wasn't just sitting there. This whole thing reeks of designer engineering, but that's getting ahead of myself." She blinks. "You took a trip? Where? It's important." See kids, withholding information when you're trying to stop a possible epidemic? BAD, mmkay?

"You don't know that for sure," the younger girl tells Peter softly. "At least wait for Cass's verdict as to the cause before making your mind on that, Peter." She can't accept it on a mere hypothesis. She needed proof, not circumstantial evidence. The latter was for lawyers, and she was no lawyer. To the doctor, she rubs her eyes again. "It would be my guess but I could be wrong," Elena confesses to Sam softly. "I just…think that if the strain was already in us when we left Sinai, if it indeed came from that event like what Peter and Cass have suspected, where else would it come from? Active viruses don't just manifest out of nowhere. It would also explain why….we were asymptomatic until only recently. Maybe the mutation was recent and maybe that's when we started showing signs. I don't know….Cass and the people who she's consulting would probably know more." While she knows she could've gone to her father, she doesn't know Dr. Suresh is involved now as well. When she inquires about a trip, she pauses…and speaks up. "Peter….teleported into the future. I'm sorry if it sounds unbelievable, but it's true."

Samantha blinks a little bit. "Peter just stole my ability and blew out most of the glass in this place. You'd be surprised as to what I can believe. I'm one of the people Cass is consulting, but here's the thing - I need to know what's going on if any progress is to be made. If we've got to wait on further analysis results, there's little I can do right now but treat the symptoms of the infected and wait. Not to mention see if I infect too. And while everyone seems to think that just because it's not airborn and doesn't seem to spread through contact, and erego can just gallivant around to wherever they want, we've already seen evidence of mutation. You're very smart. Are you pre-med? Stick with that."

"What else could it be, Elena?" Peter asks, actually snapping a little, as he leans against the counter. "I went two years into the future to try and learn about a disaster that would destroy the world, and one thing I did learn is that this virus? This outbreak? It never went asymptomatic for three-fourths of us. And what symptoms the Evelyn of the future did get? They probably never progressed as far as they're going to now. And that dream we shared — dream of the future — if it was any indication at all — this is a lot worse. She never would have been in that bed and tent— and neither would Nathan and neither would you and… And now that you've met me again, you might be sick too, Doctor. And it's my fault." With that said, he straightens and begins to make way towards the doors out of the lab.

"Yes….pre-med. I think I'll be going into research, though. Genetics," she tells Samantha hoarsely. Her voice was raw but she struggles to keep herself audible. Though at the sudden outburst she can't help but look at Peter. That was his problem. He was always so set on blaming himself when things go wrong that he can't even entertain the possibility that he might not be. When he snaps at her for trying to inject some logic in his haze of anger, Elena blinks at him…but then her eyes narrow despite the fragility her condition has forced her into. And when he stalks out, she doesn't follow, partly because she can't, her knees were too weak, and partly because she knew she didn't deserve that. Turning to Samantha, she focuses on informing the woman what she does know…which isn't much.

"I just know that…" She hesitates. "That Sinai knew this wasn't a hantavirus. It was something different. But the person who exhibited the contagion had been moved. I don't know where she is now." Somewhere in Texas, but that could be anywhere. "Peter went to the future to stop a disaster from happening, involving a tornado or a series of tornados. He found out by traveling to the future that Evelyn caused the storms, but something happened to her…" She pauses. "Something happened that caused her to lose her powers for a time, and then when they came back….it came back stronger, uncontrolled. At least that's what Peter told me." She pauses, and then she moves to stand up. "I don't recall if she mentioned ever getting sick. But you're right. If you're helping Cass, you should be informed…" She sighs. "I honestly don't know much about all this. I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't drown in everything else." The he is evident. "I promised him. But the idiot isn't making it easy." The last is vehement. Alright. She's pissed. "Would you mind if I rested a little while, Sam? I'm so tired."

"Please do." Samantha says, more gently then the Petrelli Brothers likely give her credit for. And if Elena doesn't object, she'll help the younger woman to wherever she goes to lay down. But as they walk, she can't help but add, "I know genetics is interesting, but have you ever considered a career in medicine proper…"

"I haven't ruled it out yet if it makes you feel any better," Elena quips to Samantha, even though her heart isn't in it, she tries. And whenever Sam gets her back in her room, she'll thank the doctor, who she's starting to really like even if she was prodding at Nathan earlier, and when the door closes, she locks her door. Sure, it won't stop a guy who can phase through walls, but it was more the message than the functionality that she was after. And then, she'll turn over and get some sleep.

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