2007-07-29: DF: Know The Code


DFCass_icon.gif DFPeter_icon.gif DFNamir_icon.gif DFMcAlister_icon.gif DFLachlan_icon.gif

Summary: In order to get into Bat Country, you better know the code. And Present Peter doesn't.

Dark Future Date: July 29th, 2009

Know The Code

Bat Country

While the day before was sad and almost quiet in the New York City, today is hectic in Bat Country labs. True to his word, Lee has been rerouting the branch in Vermont. However, this has made things all the more strained. A few of the refugees from the West have filtered their way down into the labs and Cass has been left understaffed. Those still here and not helping Lee scramble to make sure that everyone has beds, the most exhausted and worst off get priorty, just like an emergency room. The lab coat that Cass wears today is streaked at some parts in blood, either from helping one of the bleeding patients or from other violence.

As Cass goes down the line, though, she starts speaking in a strange sort of code. It's different depending on where the refugees said they had come from. Giving out short orders, she stops somewhere down the middle of the line with a young woman bleeding from a long cut from her forehead to her cheek. Grabbing gauze and clean cloths to wipe out the wound, she starts, "Where were you kept?"

After leaving the relative safety of the Bronx Zoo, with little word given to those who gratefully housed him, Peter ventured back into New York. Unaccustomed to the task of walking so far a distance, once he travelled a good hour away from the Zoo invisible and on foot, he flew the rest of the way deeper into Manhattan. Once he landed, he went invisible again. A few places he still needed to check. His apartment complex was first— his place of employement was second— neither showed signs of life. What was left of the buildings had been condemed. A terrible sight to see. Another burst of flight brough him across the bridge into Brooklyn, where he decided to check one last place, before he'd make his way back to the Zoo, and possibly something to eat. Bat Country Labs.

It's surprising what he finds as he approaches invisible. Signs of possible life. He dissolves into sight, and then knocks on the door. Yeah… hi. Shorter hair than his future counterpart, much better put together, and the glimmer of hope still in his eyes. Even at the sight of all of this.

There's no response to the knock at first for Peter. Finally, someone comes to the door and starts to rattle off a code that may sound strange to anyone not in the know. Letting Peter in, just through the doorway, he barks at him, "Rainie, trente-deux quinze quatre-vingt-un." And points his handgun at this vision of the past where he waits for a reply.

Cass, in the meantime is wrapping up the wound on the young woman's head and still talking in her own form of code. "King? Buddy? Carson? Ducenti?" There's a long pause from the young woman before she just says, "Calvin, centum." Nodding, Cass finishes wrapping up the woman's wound, takes a step back and pulls out a handgun from one of the large pockets of her lab coat and points it straight at the woman she just finished helping. "We changed that name two months ago." Flipping off the safety, she gestures with her head for the guards. "Infiltrator. You know where to take her." Namely, to Namir to be taken care of. Hearing some more rattling of code toward the doorway, she swings her gun in that direction, ready to take care of anyone else here to try and hurt the sanctity of her clinic.

Um… that's— okay— As soon as the guns are raised at him, Peter raises his hands in a surprised gesture. What is it with this world!? And what language did that man just speak at him. He doens't understand it, but he gets the idea that there's definite tension here, but he doesn't know for sure how to handle it. "Um…" Rainie? He looks past the man, sees the woman he came here hoping to see and just continues holding his hands up. He doesn't know the answer to whatever this is supposed to be. Was it even a question? But it's the woman pointing a gun at him too that makes him back away in surprise. The Cass he knew… "Wait— it's me." This may not work out so well.

Right as Cass swings the gun at Peter, she stops and frowns at him. Peter should know his code to get in here. Either it's a shape-shifter, or… the woman lowers the gun only slightly. "You get a haircut, Petrelli?" Stepping forward, she waits still she is close in enough that there is no way she could miss. Then, she takes aim at his leg and squeezes the trigger. The shot echoes throughout the basement rooms. This is the only way to know for sure if this is actually Peter Petrelli or if it's just some fake. If he heals, he's Peter. If he doesn't, he's someone else Namir can take care of.

Elsewhere, there's been another gunshot, this one aimed a little more lethally. Nobody hears it, though, because the man pulling the trigger has ways of deadening a shot that no silencer could ever hope to match. Now on his way back from his grisly task, a tall Middle-Eastern man wearing a black headscarf to obscure his face happens to hear the shot from Cass' gun and comes hurrying down into the lab. He's dressed in combat gear and carries an assault rifle at the ready. He's behind Peter, however like the gunshot, he makes no sound. A glance is shot toward Cass: everything all right here?

There'd been a time two years ago when Peter saw Cass look at firearms with a hint of disgust… and now she just shot him. "Why do people keep…" That's as far as he gets before she fires. Somehow he must not have thought she would shoot him at all. But she does. The bullet hits his leg and sends him down to the ground with a yell of pain. Getting shot in the leg isn't gentle at all. And if he'd really really been Peter? He could have stopped it. This one? Didn't even try. He genuinely didn't think she would shoot him. As he curls up on the floor, though, bleeding from his leg, the bullet is forced out slowly, amidst groans of pain, and the broken bone and skin slowly heals itself. But it's taking a very long time.

A lot has changed for Cass in the two years since Peter saw her last. Old Cass would never let a gun anywhere near her, let alone keep one in her pocket. However, it's a dangerous world and anyone trying to wear Peter's face to get into her labs is up to plans of nothing but notorious origin. Other Peter would have stopped the bullet, this Peter does nothing. But…it still heals. The bullet being forced out of his leg seals that. Then, a long ago memory triggers. Something about Peter traveling to the future. "Oh my God. Peter. You made it." Flicking the safety back on, she quickly crouches and starts to wrap up his leg, even if he won't need it in a little while. Hearing Namir come up behind him, she quickly gives him an order. "Help me get him to my office." She still isn't strong enough to lift him. "Make sure you leave your weapons outside," she reminds her fellow Alliance officer. Her gun is handed off to a nearby clinic assistant. It's a solid rule that no guns or anything destructive are ever allowed into her office.

Going into Cass' office means disarming. For Namir, this is a task. But he's used to it. Moving quickly, he begins stripping off weapons as he starts forward to help take Peter into the office. A couple of assistants, also used to this routine, are soon standing by to receive the knives, handguns, flash bombs, and assault rifle that the Israeli usually carries. Even still, the man keeps a pair of daggers and a small pistol tucked away in his boots, hidden beneath his pants legs. One should never be unarmed in this day and age, even for a brief trip to Cass' office. All this takes only a matter of seconds for Namir, and then he's bending down to haul Peter to his feet and help him into the office. There's nothing friendly or gentle about Namir's movements: it's quick and almost harsh, though not overtly malicious. He just doesn't give a thought to being nice.

And yet she still allows Peter into her office? The healing process continues slowly where Peter's laying on the floor, a painful process not terribly unlike the first time she saw him regrow his hand— only without the regrowing part. But at least she recognizes him now, and she's not ordering him drug off and shot in the head. But he can't respond just yet. He can't even talk. Pieces of bone need to be mended, and when he's forced up to his feet he makes another sound. Walking on the still healing shot-out leg isn't easy at all, but he manages. Hopefully she doesn't mind blood in her office. Give him a minute to sit down and heal and he'll be good as new— if a hurt in a different way that this world became one where his friend would shoot first before letting him say much.

It wouldn't be the first time someone bled in her office. Seeing him heal, painfully, has shown Cass who this is. Who this /really/ is. That and the fact that she remembers a talk with him two years ago about what he wanted to do. This is a man that she trusts. As soon as they're in her office, she shuts the door behind Namir and quickly makes room. There's a bassinet on her desk were Abigail sleeps soundly, even through all the noise outside. Despite wanting a normal childhood, these are the little things that she can't make her daughter feel - surprise at hearing gunfire. "You're here. I can't believe it. Peter, you've got to go back. You'll get killed here. Here, press down on that," she interrupts her diatribe to order Namir to apply pressure to the wound with the cloth she already wrapped around the wound. "Not too hard," she adds, knowing his forgetfulness on that matter.

Once the door is closed and Peter is settled down somewhere, Namir unwraps the cloth from around his face and obligingly applies pressure to the other man's leg. It's sufficient enough to hold back the bleeding, but not hard enough to cause too much pain. Glancing to Cass, the Israeli mutters (mindful to keep his voice down due to the sleeping baby nearby), "This doesn't look like Peter." He trusts Cass to be smart about such things, so perhaps she knows something he doesn't, but he'd like to voice his concerns anyway.

Baby? There's a baby? Once he's seated, Peter's starting to look better on the healing side of things, helped along by being off his feet and also by the presence of a cloth against the wound. The bleeding will stop soon, but right now, it's still going, if less heavy than before. "If I go back now— I won't be able— to fix anything," he mutters painfully, not quite realizing why the man he doesn't know is keeping his voice down. But his voice is lowered due to the fading pain, which should help. If he wasn't sitting with his eyes half closed, he might notice the baby, but all he's trying to do right now is look at the man who seems to know him— who he's never met before. "Who're you?" Someone Cass trusts. That's important at least.

"It's not Petrelli," Cass explains to Namir, watching him put pressure on Peter's leg. She winces a little, knowing what this must all look like to him. It's also strange for her, to try and remember the person she was when she knew /this/ Peter. Before any of this happened. When guns were still abhorrent to her, and the thought of helping end another person's life enough to make her sick. "This is Peter. He's from the past. He came to help us." It's true, she /does/ trust Namir. Enough to explain all this to him. She lets Namir introduce himself, only adding herself, "He's a friend." Then, she shakes her head. "If you get killed here - actually killed - you can't help anyone either." Absently, she moves so that she can keep an eye on Abigail and talk at the same time. The little girl is her main concern right now. "It's worse than we thought, Peter. Nathan is putting humans into camps and they're dying there. We thought the /Company/ was bad back then." She just shakes her head. "Just…go back and warn us all to get out. Get away somehow. I don't think we can fix it."

"The past, ehn?" Namir turns his attention back to Peter. Yes, he looks like Petrelli. He just looks … happier. More nourished. Less scruffy. The Israeli could buy that this is Petrelli from happier times, and he knows what Peter himself is capable of. Cass' mention of warning people to get out garners a scoff from Namir. "I have a better idea," he grunts. "Go back and put a bullet in Nathan Petrelli's brain." Like Cass, Namir wouldn't have condoned such a thing two years ago, but times have certainly changed, and so has he. "Tell him it's from Namir Dayan."

Peter's eyes follow his former boss as she approaches the baby. Now that his leg has heald for the most part, he sits up as much as he can and tries to look and see the child. There's a baby… and Cass is keeping an eye on her. He looks towards the woman, a questioning eyebrow raising. What she says, he knew already— most of it, but her lack of hope that they can do anything makes him wince— even more at what Namir tosses out as a possible plan of action. The wince actually shifts into a hint of a darkened glare. Almost similar to how his future self might look when mad— but a lot toned down. "I'm not shooting my brother for something he hasn't even done yet. Something must have happened to him." He has faith in his brother, even if the radio broadcast shook it. "There has to be something else I can do to… to fix this. I just have to find out what it is. And I can't leave until I do, or what's the point of coming here?"

For a moment, Cass says nothing about Namir's plan of action. She knew old Nathan. The Nathan of the past and she can't imagine /how/ he could have turned into the kind of leader…the kind of /person/ that he did. "Yeah." It's not at all hard to tell this is not the same Peter Petrelli they know of the same time. "It'd be from a lot of people here," she says quietly. "But, there is no point of you coming here, Peter. We were all looking out for the signs. We all tried to make it stop. And nothing changed. Sylar died, nothing changed. The Company is all but gone and nothing changed. It only got worse." This Cass is much less hopeful and optimistic than the one that Peter knows. However, there is one thing she still has hope in and it shows on her face the moment she looks at her daughter. "Not everything here is horrible." Abigail and Lachlan, the two things that still make her smile unrestrainedly. When she sees Peter trying to get a look at Abigail, she careful scoops the baby up and holds her so that Peter can see. "Look, Abby, it's Peter. Peter, this is my daughter…Abigail."

That glare is met with one in kind. Namir's not about to apologize or take back what he's said. If he could, he'd put the bullet in Nathan's brain himself right now. If it weren't for Nathan, he wouldn't have to be putting bullets into the brains of women sent in to infiltrate the last bastion of sanity and humanity in the present world. "You know how to fix it," he states coldly. "You just don't want to do it." Since Peter is no longer bleeding, Namir removes his hand from the man's leg and proceeds to wipe off what blood managed to soak through and onto his skin. His gaze only softens when it lands on Abby, and then it's brief. "Did Lee tell you about what happened in Vermont?"

"I'm not killing anyone, especially not my own brother," Peter says stubbornly, not wanting to think of what kind of world this would be that killing someone would be so easy for people— then again, maybe this man was a killer long before this happens. Hard to know for sure. But Cass wasn't… and the hopelessness in her voice makes him glance away. A heavy saddness starts to set in, even at a few announcements he had no idea about. Sylar and the Company. What little he knew of the Company had been striving to prevent something like this— public displays of ability, Evolved becoming general knowledge. It only got worse. And nothing can fix it except something he doesn't think he could ever do. "Sylar's dead?" he does ask, a hint of curiousity, before he looks up to be introduced to the baby and… he stands up. The leg? Not even aching anymore. "Abigail…" Even if the hopeless had saddened him, since she smiles, the baby makes him smile to. But then he does something his older self never has asked before, in fact he'd avoid it at all costs if possible. "Can I hold her?"

"Stop it, Namir," Cass is quite firm with her order to Namir. Even if they don't officially order each other around, this is one topic she will not tolerate him continuing on. "He has no idea what happened yet." With a sigh, she nods about Vermont. "That's why we're so backed up here. I think it was a tactical move. We had to divert the group bound for Vermont through here. And that's the group our attempted mole came in. She gave Bailey's code." Bailey who was caught and killed by the government months ago. One of Cass' top lab assistants. Her voice is still laced with emotion telling it. So, at least, there /is/ some parts of Cass still here. She shakes a head to clear it of that.

There's a wry grin when she speaks to Peter next. "Sylar's dead. You killed him." Looks like all their training paid off in the end. "It brought about the end of the war." But, that also led to this. The question is brought about with a certain tinge of surprise. However, then she remembers this is not the Peter she knows now. Of course he may want to hold Abigail. "Of course." Carefully, she passes her daughter off to her old friend. "We'll help you search, Peter. Protect you. It's rough out there."

Namir lets out a quiet snort of contempt when he's told to stop, but he does — mainly because he really has nothing more to say on the matter. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall. "We will have to expect a lot more of those. They wouldn't have planted just the one, if they were smart. It makes me wonder how many moles there were in Vermont." How many good moles. As he speaks, the Israeli's eyes remain firmly fixed on Peter, watching the man with some hint of inherent wariness. Peter doesn't hold Abby. Not ever. But just like Cass, the man is still trying to keep in mind that this isn't the same Peter he knows.

The Peter of today wouldn't hold the baby if he could avoid it— and he'd pass one off as soon as possible to someone else. This one actually cradles her up against his chest gently and smiles at her, lopsided but genuine. Peter likes babies. But he does look up as he processes. "…I killed Sylar?" A confused voice there, one trying to figure out exactly what she meant. He looks back down at the baby. "That's impossible…" How did he manage to kill someone like Sylar? What kind of man has he become in this day and age? Before he'd been leery about meeting himself because of the whole… universe might implode thing… now… he's not sure he wants to meet the man he'd become. All this talk of codes and moles and— this world is terrible. Except for sweet little Abigail. He looks over at her and nods. "Thanks— Could definitely use some help." Everyone's so careful, so he hesitates visibly. "Found a place to sleep last night, and I'll probably go back there, but— I didn't know where to find anyone. I tried the bookstore…"

There's a warning look that Cass gives Namir for his snort. She means it! But, he doesn't say anything else and Cass allows it to rest. "I know. But, so far everyone's code checked out. You know how those go." They're all personalized and changed frequently. It's hard to fake them. "Unless they turned someone, we'd know." There's a confidence that she may not feel in that topic. Of course, someone turning is another possibility. A worrying one, though. Watching Peter hold Abby, she smiles and tries not to look nervous. She gets that way when anyone other than Lachlan or herself holds her. It's an inherent protective vibe she can't yet get over. "It's not. You did it. All by yourself." Though no one really knows the details to any degree. "You can sleep here, if you want. There are a few extra cots and we certainly could use some more hands who know anything about medicine." She'll take help where ever she can get it. There's a flash of another kind of emotion when he mentions the bookstore, ruined two years ago. "There's nothing there. Nothing helpful, anyway," she says dryly. Then, she reaches out to take her daughter back. Nothing against Peter, but she doesn't like her gone for too long.

Namir once again makes a quiet, ambiguous sound, still eyeing Peter. He remains that way — silent, brooding, wary — for several seconds before he finally pushes off from the wall. He begins to wrap his face again with the headscarf. "Take care, Blavasky," he grunts as he heads for the door. "Let me know if you find any more moles." So he can kill them. His job is just so wonderful.

All by himself. Peter looks rather surprised at Cass' words, but does hand off the baby when she makes a motion for it. He doesn't quite understand the exact apprehension. The baby is no longer craddled against him, though. Instead, he shakes his head. "I think I should go back at least tonight— pay them back for the hospitality— and see if I can learn more from them. But I can make my way across the city again and stop in and help— as long as you promise not to shoot me next time." Because shooting him again would suck. It really would… When Namir dismisses himself, he follows him with his eyes, but doesn't know what else to say, really. Blavasky? There's some strange people in this world…

Taptaptap. That would be the door. And a knock therepon, tentative and quick. Furtive.

A sign of the times, that.

In the distance, if one listens, that sound? It may be sirens.

"You too, Optimus." Even that brings about a bit of a smile to her face. She can't help it. His codename is funny. Then, the smile fades. "I will." It's not something she likes, either. But it's either let them stay and get everyone caught, or take care of them and deal with the blood on their hands. All are options she doesn't like, but live with now. "That's fine. Just letting you know that you have a place to stay when you need one." As for the shooting, she does look pained at that, taking her baby from his arms and cradling her. The baby stays asleep, as she must have a very exhausting baby life. "I'm sorry about that." And she does sound it. "But, you didn't know the code. And everyone's trying to infiltrate us. I had to know it was you and not a shapeshifter. I had to know for /certain/. I can't allow someone to weasel in. They'll find out everything. They'll take Abby." Something she certainly will not stand for. "Don't cross town if you don't have to. You're Evolved, but it's still dangerous. Future you is a wanted fugitive. They won't care that you don't have the same haircut, they'll take you in."

The knock earns whoever is there a quick look over and a burst of questions in a coded dialect. If it's a friend, they'll know the code and they'll step aside.

"That's fine, but I have to keep travelling around— there's a— Hiro's here too," Peter finally says, giving her the piece of information he's kept to himself. Now that she's alone with him, she already knows the important part about this. He'd said he would go find Hiro— she has good reason to guess the other man's here anyway. "We have a message system set up— and it'll require me to go somewhere pretty far from here already. I'll be careful, though. I've been travelling invisible whenever possible, and flying when I need to cover distance. …I'm a fugitive…" The idea bothers him, but he can't really do much about that. Except everything he plans to do anyway. "Why would they take Abby?"

The countersign is given in a quiet alto, protocol's definitely known. And, at the tail end? There comes.. "… and my arms are full. Damnit."

"That's good," Cass nods. "But be careful, they've got heat sensors, so you can't rely on your invisibility all the time." Just so he knows. "Flying is better, but people know now to look out for it." The best is just to stay hidden and safe. Perhaps what she's been doing for much of her time here. "Yeah. You're a freedom fighter. The government doesn't really like that." Not to mention most of his allies don't come back alive. But, she doesn't mention that quite yet. Instead, she holds Abigail closer at the thought of losing her. "I'm human. If they think she's Evolved and find out about me…they'll put me in a camp and take her away." The commotion outside, so far, is unnoticed, unfortunately as the two are back in Cass' office. However, one of the clinic aids takes pity on the voice, already seeing as they've said the code and rushes forward to help her with her burden.

"Yeah… I heard the speech. I'll be careful," Peter says, trying to assume that he can make it through as he has been the last few days. He can't just abandon his plan, and he feels safer travelling alone sometimes— at least for now. There's a nod at her explaination, rather grim, before he starts to move towards the door. "I'll leave you two alone— I'll probably be back tomorrow— if you can give me the code now it might save me some trouble gettin gin later." Save him getting shot, but he's obviously moving to leave the office already.

The DJ that's handing off stuff to the aides? Well - she looks tired and a bit thin, but grins anyway. That's a box - a whole /box/ - of formula, and what looks like a biker's saddlebags packed full of.. wait. Twinkies? And Ding Dongs. Those things keep forever. The aide gets loaded down, Ali conspicuously absent transmission rig, at the moment.

She fishes in the pockets of those BDUs, though. "Cass around?" Not that she's really waiting for them to say anything one way or another. "I'll settle for dog-boy, too." Apparently, that'd be Lach. Dog-boy indeed. "Hey - did you guys catch the braves game retransmit? Gene's amazing, isn't he?"

Stepping out of the office, with a codename commited to memory (Crowley), Peter closes the door behind him, leaving Cass and the baby as he said he would. He glances into the group and while he doesn't recognize the woman who's just entered, he does hear a question for Cass or Dog-Boy. Lachlan? Well, if Cass has a baby he might just assume it's Lachlan's, but two years is a long time. If he can become strong enough to kill Sylar and become a freedom fighter… if Cass could change enough to shoot him… He looks around, wondering if Lachlan will appear.

Someone called for Dog-Boy? Lachlan's been helping get some of the overflow from the Vermont disaster settled, which includes using Bonnie as a bit of a therapy dog to keep the wounded and scared calm. Not exactly work one would expect from the elder Deatley, who does indeed appear after hearing word that someone up front was looking for him. Cass is obviously busy elsewhere. He raises an eyebrow at Ali … then at Peter. "… the hell got inta ye?" he grunts. He's … cleaner. And shaved. And his hair isn't in that stupid ponytail. Huh. Then, back to Ali: "Wha's up?"

"They're around here somewhere - " The aide's busy diggin' for hostess treats. I mean, honestly, who can pass up a twinkie?

Ali, laughing, shakes her head, walking backwards a step or two. "And I probably shouldn't ask. I know." And then? Then she turns around.

And Peter? Peter gets a /look/. And a DJ stalking right for him. "You." She looks to Lach - "You let him sneak in here still?" It's friendly, though. "Who gave him a razor?" Not that it stops her from winging a (rather innefectual) punch at Peter's shoulder. "NEXT time you're gonna blow something up? You /tell me/." That's a /hella/ more serious, even pointed. "We almost lost two bounce stations in that crap."

Okay, people thinking he's his future self is less scary than someone shooting at him. As Peter spots Lachlan, there's a look of surprise on his face, more open and far friendlier than they would ever see his current counterpart look. Lachlan at least knew him before the war— so he recognizes him, this other woman who points at him and gives him trouble for something he didn't even do. His hands go up again, as if he's expecting to be shot, "Um— I— sorry? It's— good to see you again, Lachlan— and uh— you too." Who is she? "But I'm not really who you think I am. I'm— um… from two years ago…" Are they even going to believe him?

At least one of them is, though he's certainly rather shocked to hear it. Lachlan stares in silence for a moment, mouth slightly opened in shock. Then: "… Jesus, Peter." He grins broadly and … actually … moves in to hug the other man. Times have changed. It's a very brief and manly hug followed by a step back and a good solid slap on the time traveler's shoulder. "Ye made it! Have ye seen Cass? Ye'll never believe it, but we've got a baby." There's neverending pride in that statement.

Ali /gets out of the way/. Never get between a Scot and manly hugs. But she snorts, mildly amused - "Don't pull that innocent crap." She waves a hand. "I like you better without the fuzz, tho." And.. she heads for, and drops on, a nearby couch. "I have some stuff for you, boss - and a little news." She finally gets the envelope she's carrying out of those pants, battered and folded..

And when the hug's over, she waves it vaguely Lach's way. "And that's from me. Don't tell Jack or he'll probably cut me. Something's going down soon - you heard anything yet?"

…Cass reacts with bullets, Lachlan reacts with manly hugs. This world is wrong. Peter accepts the hug, and even returns it, though he's definitely looking bewildered. "Yeah, I just saw her— both of them. She's beautiful. I'm happy for you," he says, once the hug is disengaged and he can smile a little. There's still that 'what the hell is going on' look in his eyes, and he glances back at McAlister and— "Jack? Did you just say Jack?" Jack's still around? The only thing going down that Peter knows of is himself— and maybe a flier for a rally he found in Times Square, so he listens.

Hug finished (and never spoken of again), Lachlan truly and utterly beams at the compliment to Abby. She is the most beautiful baby ever to be born, just ask him. Then his attention is diverted to Ali and his expression turns a little more serious. "Havena heard nothin'," he states as he takes the envelope and begins to open it. "Wha' sort o' somethin'?" Peter's question brings another grin to the Scot's face, though it's a little less bright. "Yeah, Jack's still kickin' 'round, fightin' the good fight. Bloody hell, ye'll have ta come meet 'im an' the rest o' the gang. Elena, Eric, Jaden — they're all here."

"Can't say too much - just… keep your head /really/ far down for a while, huh?" The envelope has a wad of green in it - very old and wrinkled fives and tens. It's not much, but - a couple hundred, maybe. Ali looks oddly at Peter. "You /know/ Jack. You've punched him half a dozen times - why the stupid act?" There's… sudden suspicion there.

"Lach?" It's .. warning. Tense. "Who is this guy?"

There's definitely something brighter on Peter's face as the taller and older man mentions the people who are still kicking around and fighting. And for a moment… there's a flicker of something deeper than surprise. Fondness. At Ali's words, who he doesn't know, there's a sputter at the idea of him punching Jack. Once, much less multiple times. Jack's half a foot taller than him— and much stronger looking. "I punched Jack?" it's almost exactly in the same tone as 'I killed Sylar?' earlier. Disbelief and shock all in one. "I'm Peter Petrelli— just— Peter Petrelli from two years ago. … two years and two days, to be exact. I travelled through time to try and… find out what happened to make— this. And fix it." Only thing he hasn't found that needs fixing is the baby girl behind that door— but he's sure Cass and Lachlan can have another one, and have her in a world they'd rather she grow up in. "I haven't met you, though…"

"Ye sure yer no' gonna need a hand with anythin'?" Lachlan questions of Ali, raising an eyebrow. But he shrugs soon after. "'ll pass the word on ta Cass." And he'll be sure to keep Abby buried deep underground for a while too. Not that she isn't already. When Peter makes his own explanation, the Scot smiles and nods. "Cass said ye were jumpin' ahead fer a bit — Jesus, tha' was two years ago." How and why he even remembers this is anyone's guess, considering how bad his memory is anyway. "Oh, hey. Peter, this is McAlister. We call 'er Ali. Ali, this — well, y'know. She's part o' Jack's gang."

"… Charmed." The suspicion remains - "A Company chick showed up at the Zoo, and then .. you're telling me /that/ is Petrelli?" Ali stands, carefully. "Alyssa." A nod to Peter - "I don't have any clue what's going on - that's not really unusual. But if he trusts you… I won't make you jump in front of a Security hummer." A slight smile… and she focuses on Lach. "I dunno. You know how Jack is - half the time he keeps things so secret I think he doesn't tell /himself/ what he's doing."

The woman runs a hand through dirty hair - "You know my offer to sit is still open." The change of subject is abrupt, coming with a sudden, sunny smile for the scot.

"I thought the Company didn't exist anymore?" Peter asks, looking towards Lachlan with a surprised eyebrow raise and then he does the only thing he really can, he puts his leg forward and shows the bloody hole where he'd been shot earlier. The blood hasn't completely dried yet. "I was already shot once to prove my identity. …wait… McAlister." He's heard that name before. "You were a DJ— and— I heard your name a few times too." From his girlfriend at the time, who isn't his girlfriend. "I— need to head out. I have to get somewhere before it's dark, but I'm planning to come back here and help tomorrow…" He looks between the two. And learn more.

"Nah, the Company's still 'round. Just no' nearly as powerful as they were b'fore. S'all yer bloody brother now." That last is said with no small amount of bitterness. Not that it's Peter's fault. Lachlan's not blaming him. "Take care o' yerself, Peter. 'll see ye 'round." Lachlan gives the other man another friendly pat on the shoulder, then glances at Ali blankly. "Huh?" He must've missed the invitation to sit in all the crazy.
Peter gets a nod - "Alyssa. Ali. Still am - who says broadcasting's a dying profession?" The woman frowns - "Keep your head down. Patrols are really bad, lately. We try to spot 'em all, but don't catch every one." And.. that seems to be a goodbye, of a sort.

She crosses to Lach, poking his arm with a finger. "I offered, and I meant it. Least I can do, as many times as you guys have put me up."

"I'll be careful— thanks," Peter needs to get to the Deveaux Building to leave another message for Hiro… and hope the other man hasn't gotten himself captured already. If it's risking getting captured himself… he'll just do his best to surprise them and get away. He nods to them both, before slipping towards the door, and through it once it's open. Before the door even has a chance to close, he fades out of visibility. Much like he did with the Zoo, he won't even come out of it until he's a good distance away, maybe all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge, and then he'll fly. Last thing he wants to do is get something brought down on these people.

Once Peter's off and away, Lachlan turns his attention to Ali once again. Because he's poked. She poked him! He grins and rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "Sure. 'll let Cass know yer interested. 'M sure she could use a break." They could both use a break, actually. Especially after this mess with Vermont. "Ever'thin' holdin' up a'righ' on yer end?"

"No. But when is it ever?" Restless, she paces over to sort of drape over the back of the couch she'd claimed before, "They're starting to track transmissions - we figured they would, but they're getting better at it fast. You know that Jack would run you and Cass across for the asking - " A bit pained, she looks back in the direction of the office. "I don't know why you stay."

Lachlan shrugs a little, frowning at the news of the transmissions. He glances toward the office door as well. Don't think he hasn't asked himself the exact same thing numerous times. Hell, he would've spirited Cass off to Scotland when he first found out she was pregnant were it not for her strong desire to stay and help — and in another fashion, his own inability to run from a fight. And this is a fight. It's a big, ugly, nasty, years-long fight. "Canna just leave ye all hangin' like tha'," he grunts in reply. It sounds almost hollow. He would not mind staying, but it's Cass and Abby that shouldn't. However, he's also grown to accept that Cass would never stand for him staying behind while she and Abby flee to safety, and neither would he allow her staying while he flees. They're stuck in it together, for better or worse.

"Just.. think about it?" Ali picks at a bit of fuzz on the couch. "What are you all needing? I'm kinda circulating for a while - I'll go on the hunt. I know it's tough getting out there right now."

"'Ve already though' 'bout it," Lachlan responds with a wan grin. "Dunna think Cass'd go fer it. But if we decide ta go fer it anyway, we'll definitely let ye know." Mostly for Abby. That's the only reason in the world that Lachlan would ever run away from all this. Glancing at the things already brought over, he adds, "Think ye got all o' it. Ye migh' wanna check with Cass, though, an' the other doctors runnin' 'round. They'll mebbe have somethin' fer ye."

"I'll ask." Ali straightens. "Just.. don't tell Jack, huh? He gets pissed." She actually seems nervous about that - "But yeah, I'll ask around."

And she starts to turn to do just that, asking back - "And squeektoys, right? I still haven't found any, but I keep looking."

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