2007-09-02: DF: Miracles


DFElena_icon.gif DFPeter_icon.gif DFDaphne_icon.gif

Summary: Even in the darkest days, Love can still achieve miracles.

Dark Future Date: September 2nd - 3rd, 2009


The Bronx Zoo, New York

Never before has Peter flown directly into the Zoo. Normally, he's much more careful about this. This time, it's very different. He lands carefully, as close to the makeshift medical area in the Zoo as possible— which he only really knows of because of the nights he stayed here— that's where he offered his services, because he was a nurse— but the animals might be startled at the velocity of the arrival. His clothes are nearly burnt off, but he's not got a scratch on him. Remnant blood, but no actual cuts. Talking to the animals isn't easy for him, but any who try to get too close will get met with a protective cushion of TK. He can manage two abilities at once right now, because he has to. He tried to keep her body working while in flight, and now most of his attention is back to that. "Daphne!?" He calls out, hoping the woman is here— somewhere.

The woman he's carrying needs a doctor. She needs a doctor badly.

And he's crying.

It was odd looking at Elena. She doesn't appear to have much damage on her body, save for a burn on her thigh, up her arm, the side of her neck. But there's blood from her mouth, and she smelled charred. Electrocution didn't do external damage, all the damage it does is internal, and Sylar had been aiming to kill. She looks more gray than golden, and she's stopped responding to Peter a while ago. A rivulet of blood trails down from the side of her mouth, thicker than what could usually be seen to be somewhat unworrisome, flowing down one side of her face, the red spiderwebbing along the side of her neck and on one shoulder left bare by the sleeveless, black turtleneck she was wearing.

Her head is tipped backwards. The flight had caused the tie in her hair to blow back a few miles ago, her dark hair tangled along Peter's arm and around her face. She doesn't even look like she's breathing anymore. She smelled like blood and ash. The beats of her heart were so week instruments would have to be used to detect it. But it keeps beating, mostly thanks to Peter's determination to keep her alive.

Doctors. Yeah, they got doctors. At the moment, there are a couple people inside the ex-veterinary office who know a little about what they're doing, but no healers, no one who can snap their fingers and take away the pain. There are people, though, who can help.

The surprised roar of a lean lioness is what will first reach Peter's ears. She can only eye the trail of blood hungrily; the predators here are half-starved, surrounded by easy meals, and the bleeding woman is almost too much for the beast to take. Since Laurel died, though, the controlling reigns Daphne holds over her animals are might tighter. The lioness, though hungry, runs in the opposite direction. Antelope and zebra, bothered by the scent, squeal and bellow as they, too, become agitated. They know what that smell is. Instinctively, in the wild, out of the safety of the zoo, it means death. No creature who bleeds lives long.

The yell draws the attention of the medical personnel, who are out of the makeshift hospital in seconds. There's not a lot they can do for her out here, but indoors — Well, the very supplies that the Saints brought them before will now be used to hopefully save one of them. "Get her inside," the nearest woman says. Unwilling to waste time by transferring Elena to a stretcher, the doctor steps out of the way, the others forming a path, so that Peter can take her right to a room that serves as an OR.

A cold steel table will be there for her. The surfaces are damp, the room smells heavily of antiseptic and iodine as several people work to clean the room as quickly as possible. They've done this before; there have been many, many emergencies. In here, it's clean, though; no blood stains the white-tiled floor, barely a scratch is on the steel table. Packages are ripped open and laid across the slab - as sterile as they can be, but it's not everything.

Across the zoo, the lioness explains to Daphne what she saw; a mental image accompanies the tale, the excitement of the scent of the destruction of a human body is painfully evident in the Lioness' tone. Daphne grabs the big cat's face. Get the doctors. Drag them out in their underwear if you have to.

Moments later, she shoulders her way out of her 'home' and toward the hospital. A short run for her, but the doctors Elena brought are housed some distance away. The lioness will know what to do, though.

Carrying her inside quickly, Peter sets her down on the cold table, moving to keep a hand on her, "I'm keeping her alive— but I can't heal her— it's not working— she was struck by lightning, please— anything that you can do— I can keep her alive, I just have to keep touching her." There's tears running down his face, he's barely able to hold onto the ability— he's so happy that he didn't have to fight off the animals this time. He'll apologize to Daphne for flying directly into the Zoo, but there's really only so much that he can do. His nurse training didn't cover lightning— she probably needs a surgeon, and the most he can do… is make sure her blood keeps pumping. Make sure her organs don't shut down.

He's already pale. The fight was hard on him. Please, please… "You have to save her, please— I can't— she can't die on me… not here— not like this." So many people have died. He lost Cass— he lost his brother. He can't lose her too.

This woman might not be one of the doctors, though. She might have just as much training as he does. Hold onto her hand, will her body to keep working. That's the extent of what he can do until the doctor's arrive.

And the woman in charge of the zoo arrives first. "Daphne!" He calls out, still crying openly. "I'm so sorry— I landed right in the zoo, I…" Now isn't the time to apologize, but he's doing it anyway.

It's not the time to apologize, no. Daphne still puts a hand briefly on Peter's arm as she rushes past him to the sink. She went through veterinary school, and while her understanding of the human body is limited, she can at least help while the doctors are taking their time. There isn't near enough time to scrub, but that hardly matters if they can't save her.

The personnel in the room explain what Peter told them as she at least runs soap and water over her hands. "Doctors are gonna be here soon, Peter, just… Keep doing what you're doing." The others look at her like she's nuts. He's dirty, he's CONTAMINATING EVERYTHING, but Daphne isn't about to kick him out. She knows. "Work around him!" she snaps, and monitors and wires and a whole bunch of stuff finds its way into Elena's vicinity. It's only a minute before she's on a heart monitor. "Atropine, have some adrenaline handy, just in case. Peter, we're going to need you to stop helping her when I tell you, or we won't be able to see what's wrong." If her heart keeps beating and the EKG they're hooking up to her doesn't tell them the exact place it's failing, then helping her isn't going to do a damn bit of good. One of the nurses is already preparing the defibrillator, another has a vial of atropine. Waiting.

Daphne watches the EKG. Everything's weak. Working barely. They can stabilise her heart, and then they can afford to operate without killing her. "Now, Peter."

Stop helping her— Peter doesn't care if he's dirty— he needs to hold onto her. He can't use this ability very well without tactile contact. At least he has his mind together and understands what the woman is talking about, nodding at what she's asking for— agreeing with her. He's a nurse— even if he never specifically wanted to be emergency room. That's not the type of medicine he preferred. He wanted to make people more comfortable, happy—

Once everything is set up, he winces, finally letting go of her. Part of him wants to refuse, but he hovers close. No longer does he boost her adrenaline, keep certain chemicals in her brain moving. Why couldn't healing work just this one time? It should work— he's stronger now, isn't he?

That's another thing that makes him not very good for this kind of work. He's too attached. The tears keep falling. This isn't a soap opera where a doctor can operate on their loved one— this is real world. He wipes his face on his hands, which— isn't really the same as washing.

There's a flurry of activity as soon as Peter lets go. Daphne's not getting her hands dirty, she's carefully watching the EKG readout, and she's finding that, yes, indeed, this is electric shock. Not typical, but then, when there's people who can throw lightning around, that's no surprise. She and one of the other doctors are busy determining where the sinus rhythm has gone horribly wrong, while another - a med student when the war started, who's now showing all the signs of brilliance - is looking over his shoulder. Briefly, he assesses, then - Epinepherine as close to Elena's heart as he can inject it without killing her.

"Doctor Clarke is washing up," someone says. Daphne has no idea who.

The arrhythmia persists into arrest, and Daphne holds up one hand to keep Peter from doing anything - because if he touches her while the others are giving Elena a shock, it's going to hurt, and possibly kill her. After another injection, someone says, "We have a decent rhythm, but I don't know how long we can keep it up."

"Peter," Daphne says. "For as long as you can keep it up."

If she can save Elena, maybe Laurel can forgive her.

It seems like forever as the young medical students and nurses and doctors with not enough experience just try to keep Elena's heart going. It's not just that, either. With the shock, even with Peter's help, there are multiple systems on the verge of failing. The kidneys always go first. Blood flow to the young woman's toes and fingers is severely limited; they're turning blue. She might not escape this with all her digits, but they'll do their best.

Clarke finally takes charge. He doesn't need a vet student in the way, so Daphne steps aside, allowing the others access to the patient. Standing just behind Peter, she places a hand on his back; he's going to have to stay, but this isn't going to be easy. Daphne can at least stay where she's at to provide a little support.

There's not enough time for a CT scan, but someone with Clarke's qualifications can make excellent guesses, and he'll do his best to save this woman. After all, if not for her, he wouldn't even be here at all. He checks her eyes, fingertips, and toes. Somewhere along the line, she's been disrobed; the doctor's hand touches lightly along the surface of her stomach…

Jaundice. Rapidly setting in, it's hard to pick up under the rooms fluorescent light, but he can see it, even through the dirt, the surface damage. If her liver isn't already shot to hell, he's going to have to work fast to save it. Luckily, as important as the liver is, it's damn resiliant.

Antiseptic. Anaesthetic. Iodine. Moments later, an incision - upside-down V-shaped, from Elena's breast to her belly button. It's a mess in there, much better to spare the details.

"You okay?" Daphne asks Peter quietly.

This is the part Peter can't watch, so hopefully they'll understand when he just moves back to hold onto her hand, until the surgeon needs it, and then close his eyes and kneel down beside the bed. He's in the way, but he's keeping certain things working— and that will just have to be enough to keep him here. He wants her intact, he wants her okay. Why couldn't he just heal her? There's still tears in his eyes and on his cheeks when he looks up at Daphne, "I'm okay— I can regenerate— she can't." And he knows now that his blood won't work— it won't fix everything. But he wishes it would— he wishes he could share his ability with her, somehow— fix everything.

"I'm staying here— until she wakes up. I can't leave her." She has to understand that— she lost people before. He can't stand to lose her. "I'll go back to the past as soon as I can say goodbye to her— I'll fix everything— just— please fix her." He doesn't want to say goodbye to her body— he wants her to be able to respond. And all he can do now… is hold on, keep her body working, and try not to get in the way.

"We'll fix her, Peter," Daphne answers for the doctors, because they're too busy to do so.

The liver is split into parts. Each performs rouchly the same duty, and so it's one of the few organs in the body that can be partially amputated and grow back. The problem is, so much blood in such high volumes runs through the organ, that the smallest injury to it is life-threatening. There's way too much blood in the way; vessles are cauterised by the younger doctors as Clarke works on finding just how much of the liver is damaged, and if any of it can be saved. If there's nothing left of it, then…

"Got you, you little — " Clarke mutters as he finds the one lobe of the liver that can be salvaged. The rest is so badly torn apart that there's nothing he can do, but that's okay. Removing much of the remaining three parts, the surgeon gets to work rerouting and repairing blood vessels. It's going to be a huge recovery, but she'll live.

A quick blood type test is performed as the doctors work, and instructions are given to find someone in the zoo who can be a donor - and fast. Now.

The surgery will take many more hours. Lightning does more than just destroy one organ - Elena's heart will have to be closely monitored. Intracranial pressure will have to be relieved, which, yes, means tapping a small hole into the poor girl's skull. Toes - she'll lose the smaller couple on each foot. It was to much to concentrate on saving those while her life was at stake, but she'll miraculously make it out with all her fingers. Plus, there will be a few ugly scars where the incisions were. The final prognisis: If she doesn't get an infection, she'll live.

She's looking at a long, long recovery, though.

Daphne will stay with Peter for a few hours following the surgery. With medical staff in and out of the room, Elena will be well cared for, but the zoo's owner is here for Peter now. Moral support, kind words when she can offer them. Eventually, though, when things become less critical, when it looks as if the patient will definitely pull her way through the night, Daphne gives Peter a pat on the shoulder. "I'll be right down the hall. Come get me when she wakes up," she says. Briefly, she contacts Elena's shoulder, checks the monitors out of habit, and leaves. She'll stay within shouing distance, though… Just in case.

September 3rd, 2009
1100 Hours

Her body felt like lead. Everything burned….but she's alive. Her eyes flicker a bit, and they open slowly, her hazy eyes staring upwards at the ceiling. She didn't know where it was, but while her vision slowly clears, she knows she's not in the Saints base. It's white though, pristine. Whoever owned this room kept it very, very clean. Unless….she was dead, and she was in the entrance morgue in Heaven or something. If that was the case, all of her conceptions of the afterlife had just flown out the window. Elena closes her eyes again. She can't move, not right away. Everything hurt, and her body felt so heavy she felt like she was….how did it go again? Han Solo in carbonite?

She can hear the beeping of the monitors. Her head turns a bit to look at the machines near her. There were so many. She had been a pre-med before she returned to New York. She knew what most of them were, and what they said. She must've really been in bad shape if she had this much hooked up to her body. She knows she's looking at a long recovery unless some miracle cure was found and it was shortened. She would have to sit out of Jack's revolution, perhaps. But who else was going to lead the Saints? They were counting on her here in New York.

Even breathing in was a chore, but she does it slowly. She was still fuzzy with the drugs administered - she can't focus enough to use her gifts to be a functioning human being. Though at this rate….it wasn't really all that wise. Right now Pain was telling her that something was wrong. If she cut that out completely, something might go wrong and she won't realize it until too late.

"Right— I'll— I'll call for you," Peter says, looking rather tired at this point, but he finally thinks he can stop using her own ability to keep her alive. She's been covered back up by this point, even if her clothes were cut off. His need to be too, eventually. They're melted, torn, burned through— but they still hang on his body. He's just glad that his wallet, with all the important things he needed, somehow escaped the fire. It's resting beside him. The only reason he's not holding her hand when she wakes up, is because his hand slipped out of hers when he finally fell asleep.

A chair was pulled over for him to sleep on, and he's leaning back into it. Asleep, for the moment. A dreamless, uncomfortable sleep, but sleep his body desperately needs. It lets his abilities reset, his internal clock get fixed back into place— he needs to stop wearing himself out.

The slightest movement wakes up him this state. It's the change of her breathing in this case, that pulls him out of sleep. Eyes open, he shifts, barely avoids falling out of the chair, and then looks at her. She sounds different— "Elena?" he asks tiredly, sitting up enough to reach out and take her hand, reaching to check her physically— and then trying what failed before. Maybe he can speed up the process a little, take away some of her pain. May not fix everything— but it might fix something. Help her liver regrow— that sort of thing. "Elena?" He doesn't call out for Daphne right away, he wants to make sure she's really awake first— it could be a dream.

It works. The healing warmth originates from the hand he takes, and through her system. Depending on how good he's become on it, her breathing gets a little easier, even if Elena's still a little drowsy. Someone's with her. The hand on her own is familiar - she knows his touch by now. "Peter…" She could feel skin recovering from the ugly stitches, smoothing away as if they've never been there. She still feels sore, achy, like she exercised two hours more than she should've. He won't be able to help the lactic acid that's accumulated under her muscles from all that trauma. Not with his healing ability anyway. Her eyes close again. It looks like she would fall asleep again, but her breathing is less labored.

Her hand comes up, to pull the oxygen nosepiece thing from her nose. She chokes a little bit, as the small tube had been inserted through the nasal cavity and down her lungs, but she does it like a champ, setting it aside and reaching over to shut off that machine before it told people that she wasn't breathing or that something happened to the apparatus. But her hand falls again. She was still pale. Still weak. But she's alive.

Her eyes flicker open again, wandering over to his tired face. But his color was back. His body's reset on its own in the middle of the night. That was good.

Her lips are dry, somewhat cracked. She passes her tongue over them to relieve the sting.

" 'm….starving…"

Of course she was. Even after escaping Death narrowly, she can STILL think about food.

She's starving.

After all the tension of the night before, Peter can't help but laugh a little, standing up enough to lean over her, kiss her on the forehead. "You always are in the morning," he says with that lopsided smile, that hint of a laugh. Setting her hand down on her chest, he shifts to press his forehead against hers, eyes closed. That smile fades, growing far more serious. She's okay. She's able to speak. And he's sure the Saints will be making their way here soon, if the animals haven't stopped them from getting too far inside. He's surprised Eric didn't show up to deck him— hopefully nothing bad happened.

"I'll see what I can do about food," he says, kissing her once more, this time on the tip of her nose, before he moves towards the door to open it and look for the Zookeeper. He's got an idea where she is. He's still dressed in burnt rags, but they're still hanging on, by threads. "Daphne?" he asks once he finds her. "She's awake— could you see if there's something for her to eat? I was able to heal her a little— should be enough she can handle food— and she's starving." He looks relieved, still serious— but relieved. He won't wait in the hallway long, though, because he wants to get back to her.

Eric…probably chained himself down on something to ensure that he wasn't going to storm into her recovery room mad with rage. Maybe at Peter, but mostly at her for getting hurt the way she did. It was the way he was. Elena knew him well and she'll probably get a lecture later.

Her eyes close when he kisses her forehead, and she finds it in her to smile just a bit when he laughs. "….don't….make fun of….the patient," she murmurs. Of course she's just kidding, he's really not making fun of her - he's just teasing her with what he knows of her. So Elena keeps her eyes shut. If she were still in some sort of danger zone, it would be devastating if he came back to find her dead - but thankfully his Healing ability has pulled her out of that. She'll be fine, and much better than she would be otherwise. Years of rest would probably just be confined to a few weeks, if even.

"…mkay…" is murmured from the bed. Her eyes don't open again. She's so tired. What happened? All she remembered was….right. Lights. Lights and Lachlan wielding the Spanish Sword of Great Justice. She wondered if he was still around so she could congratulate him properly for slaying the beast.

Daphne's curled up in a folding metal chair. VERY UNCOMFORTABLE. And so when Peter appears to wake her, she's pretty much awake instantly, if for no other reason than it means she no longer feels obligated to sleep. "Morning," she mutters, mostly for herself and her developing passenger. She's heard it helps to talk to it, but she's not sure what good it'll do if it doesn't have ears yet. Aah, forming good habits. So underrated.

Food? Well, her immediate reaction is that the doctor had to make cuts in her abdomen, stitches through intestines. Even with Peter's healing ability… "Mmm…" she mutters. "I'll watch her and see," is Daphne's final answer. She's sure the others would agree… If Elena eats with that much air in her system - not that the surgery was done under the best of circumstances, but they don't need more complications now.

Speaking of watching, she follows Peter back into the OR, which has since been polished and cleaned since the surgery - right under Peter's nose! "We'll get you some breakfast in a few hours. Right now we're pumping you full of the good stuff." She pats the IV bag hanging above Elena's bed. "I dunno if you'll survive anything more than jello at the moment, even with help. So." Yeah, waiting, just to make sure there's not any immediate complications. Call her paranoid, but she doesn't have Peter's ability, she's not sure how well it'll work, or anything, really. Better safe than sorry. "I think I can get you a glass of ice, though. At least that's something."

There's a long pause, when Peter looks at her as she denies the young woman food— sure— it's probably a good idea, but he still healed her and… She's hungry. This is why relatives and loved ones shouldn't be looking over someone who's sick. Really. With the Zookeeper/slavedriver at his side, he shifts his chair around so he can take her hand again, and twine his fingers between hers. All this place needs is to get him in clean clothes and it will be perfectly clean! At least he washed his hands after he was sure that he could let go of her and her body would keep working.

"Sorry— guess you'll have to wait," he says, holding on to her still. "Thank you, Daphne," he says again, even if the surgeon did a lot of the work. He'd thanked him too— but she did quite a lot as well. "I— not sure if it'll help anything, but— no one will have to worry about Sylar anymore. That's how this happened— she was helping me fight him. Lachlan Deatley killed him." His rats may have made it here— though they were quite a bit late by this point. But there it is. "Shot him twice in the head— then cut his head off— he won't be coming back from that."

Good news for a tough world. "Hopefully more changes will happen too— it'd be nice to leave knowing that things are getting a little better." He still has to leave— and soon— but at least he has something to feel good about. Sylar's dead— he won't be hurting anyone else ever again.

"Oh…..didn't realize…of course it'd be…" Elena murmurs, when Daphne emerges from the other side. She couldn't help but smile weakly from where she is. "My hero. Take it you got… Doctor Clarke to do me a favor yeah?" Her hand is taken again, there's not much grip to it, she's too weak. But when Daphne tells her about Jello, she smirks. "Always got room." Her eyes wander over to the IV. "….and that's not even close to being the same." But she'll take the glass of ice. Hell, she'll take anything really. She…actually starts shifting on the bed, so she can try and sit up. People are free to stop her, of course, since a child can knock her down right now. But she's been in bed for probably hours and she was used to being up and running by now.

The pillows are very comfortable though.

"Should…" She closes her eyes. "Call Lachlan and congratulate him. If he isn't….in Scotland by now with Abby." She wouldn't blame the man for skipping town to do what he had to do, and protect the only thing he had of Cass left. It was best for them anyway. Her father and Portia were probably in the islands by now. After Desiree, she couldn't let her father stay here anymore. But she had a war to fight, and she had to recover quickly so she could lead.

Her eyes flicker over to Daphne. "…the president's dead," she tells her softly. "Jack's going to be leading a revolt. We're taking it back." Her eyes close. "We're taking it all back."

It's not that Elena couldn't take it, it's just that Daphne's being extra cautious. She can't watch someone else die; despite that smile on her face as she stands over Elena's bed, she's still hurting from her best friend's death, but everyone has to move on. Every single person here has to move on. "You got it," she says. It's another moment before she returns with a coffee mug full of small ice cubes. "Slowly," is cautioned as she hands it over. "If you throw it up, you're cleaning it up."

Slavedriver, indeed.

"You're going to need to stay in bed for awhile," she says. Whether 'awhile' is a day or ten days - depending on Peter's ability to heal, the message is pretty much 'you're not doing anything now, don't even try, or I'll kill you myself.' She wonders if all doctors get like that. 'Don't ruin what I just did or I'LL DO WORSE.' Yeah, not that Daphne did too much herself, but she was here.

"Clarke's a genius, like you said. He figured it out right away, It would have taken any of the kids here hours." Daphne doesn't say that there was a lot of guesswork involved. Those guesses did save Elena's life, though, and they were spot-on anyway. "He didn't even have to be asked." Just dragged to the hospital by a hungry lioness, but— That's not the same as being asked, so.

There's that.

The news of a revolt is met with an expression that's almost unreadable. They need change, things need to happen. They need to fix the world, as it were. But change… More people are going to die. "I'd offer to help, but I'm responsible for someone else now," she says, a hint of a smile appearing. "I'm not leaving the zoo, though. You'll still have us here if you need anything."

The president is dead. Peter's eyes shift down when she says that, but he does not let go of her hand. If she needs both for iceeating TOUGH. He wants to hold onto her a little while longer. She needs to stay for a while— and he needs to leave. Hopefully she'll have someone at her bed side the whole time she's hear once he needs to leave. Because— that's getting to be soon. Sylar's gone— the revolution has begun. And things will change. Daphne's baby will grow up in a world that will hopefully be better than this one. "My radio got busted— yours got fried, but— I can get you one. So you can call them." He knows where a spare is. He can Jack it here.

But that's not really the point right now— he's just glad she's okay— and things will change now. Slowly— listen to the Slavedriver.

"You really scared me there for a while," he says, squeezing her hand a little. She may not remember any of that, but Daphne would. He really was scared— and that may not be the best thing. "But you're okay— and I'm okay too. I'll figure out how to go back. And I'll fix this— all of it— just like I promised." Even if that means certain other nice things won't happen. Maybe the other Daphne will still have her baby— maybe Abby will still be born and have a mother to hold her into young adulthood… maybe…

"Thanks. And I'll be staying here in New York. The military stronghold is here, which means I have to be here," Elena says, picking up the mug and popping a cube of ice into her mouth. She crunches on it a bit. It's not food, but it'll have to do. And it does help her a bit. Peter's not letting go of her hand, so she tries to make do with the one she's got free. "Alright, I'll do that later…after my ice." She looks at it almost forlornly. She wishes it were Jello at least.

"Thank you as always, Daphne. And I know. You have another life to look after." Her eyes wander over to the baby. "….he or she's doing just fine. I can't tell yet, it's too early." She's at least getting a handle back on her powers, and when Elena's capable of doing that, it's a very good sign. She's already bouncing back, despite Daphne's END YOU expression should she try to do anything strenuous in the next few weeks.

She looks at Peter, and she nods. "I have more files to give you. If you get me a communicator, I can tell Gene where they are and he can scan them in and put them in a flashdrive for you to take back. Should still work over there, technology didn't really change much in the last two years until you give something to Gene to be altered. I stole some files from Alaska. Research. The ones I found, they were trying to bond Evolved genetic strains with normal human DNA."

Aw, don't worry, Pete. The doctors will take good care of Elena until the Saints storm the door and steal her in a blaze of glory, when they could have simply accomplished the same thing by asking, except for the fact that they can't seem to do anything without some sort of flair, and sometimes explosions, wherein things happen to change the face of the planet as they know it, like killing Presidents and men named Sylar. But that's all for later.

The words 'no visitors' are on her lips, but she decides against saying that. She doesn't need to be lynched. This is the equivalent of intensive care, though, even if it's a converted veterinary clinic. Tigers and lions have also been operated on on the same table where Elena was! True fact.

"She. It's a girl. I know." She… has no idea. But she's hoping that if she wishes hard enough, it will be a girl that they can name Laurel. They'll find out eventually, though.

Really, Elena should be glad that it's Daphne in here instead of one of the actual doctors. Veterinary medicine is a little different than human medicine… Sometimes animals who've had their insides torn apart are back walking in considerably little time. DAPHNE IS BEING LENIENT, ELENA. APPRECIATE IT.

So, Sylar's dead, the president's dead, the world's set up for change - hopefully a reversion back to something like it was before everything went sour. That in mind, and with Elena's words, she asks Peter, "You're going back?" Not because she didn't expect him to, but just because she's curious, making conversation. After all, she gave him something to give to… herself… in the past, and a message. Don't pick fights you can't forgive with your best friend. "Maybe they'll figure out they should just leave things the way they are," she adds. "In a couple years, we'll all be wishing we had."

As requested, Peter ends up handing Elena a small ear piece after a few moments of consentration. They're talking— he's thinking about Jack. It sorta works, he's leading the revolution. With LIVE CRIKKITS :D

"There you go— I need to go back there before I can leave anyway— to get my bag. So— just tell him to put all of it into the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bag in my room." He'll make his way back there— then disappear forever. Back to the Past— back to where he belongs. Back to her. The other her.

"Maybe we'll find a way to make a better world, too— something nicer. I hope I get to meet you again. You've been a big help." Hopefully she hasn't changed her phone number recently, since the first time they met while he was shopping for supplies for Snowy— right after he got the little puppy. There was a bunny involved.

"I'll make a better world— with help. And you guys… you can build a better one here." It can't get much worse.

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