2008-01-03: Pre-Trauma Management


Bekah_icon.gif Kory_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif Randall_icon.gif

Summary: Bekah and Peter meet up to discuss sharing of powers. Randall and Kory enter left with a very big dog.

Date It Happened: January 3, 2008

Pre-Trauma Management

Lucky Joe's Diner

Open all day, every day, Joe's Diner has a small amount of patronage at certain times of day, and this would be one of them. Later in the evening, too late for a dinner rush, and too early for most the night shift people catching something to eat before they head to work, there's only a handful of people, and most of those are the two waitresses on duty and the two cooks. Peter Petrelli sits at a booth near the door, waiting for the person he's supposed to be meeting. A glance at his empty wrist happens by habit. When the waitress returns with his lemonade, he says, "Thank you. Excuse me, what time is it?" She gestures at the clock on the other wall. "Oh, right, sorry. Thank you." He offers a hint of a smile, one she returns before she moves away.

Bekah is running a few minutes late, but well, it's hard to get off work at an E.R. sometimes. She makes her way in dressed still in scrubs with her coat thrown on overtop. She pauses inside the door to find Peter and then heads over with a shake of her head. "Sorry to be late. We had a trauma come in ten minutes before I was supposed to be off."

"No problem," Peter says, turning that hint of a smile on the woman he'd intended to meet. "I just ordered some lemonade for myself, but that's fine— I just wish I could remember where I left my cellphone… Then you could have called and let me know." It's almost sheepish the way he says it, as it almost looks like he's tempted to stand from the booth. There's no chairs to help her with, though, so no reason to stand. "I hope it wasn't too bad." The waitress turns around and comes back, to get her order.

Bekah slides into the booth, leaning back against it as she shakes her head. "Not on the grand scale of things. She'll be alright with time. Bike rider hit by a car." And Bekah has to cover a yawn before she can continue. "Well, hopefully the cell will turn up. Must be annoying to be without it." Finally she notices the waitress and turns to give her a smile. "Can I get a coffee, and, um, a cheeseburger with fries?" It may be evening, but Bekah hasn't eaten dinner yet, it seems.

"I'll have the cheese omelet and hashbrowns," Peter requests for his own meal, opting for the breakfest 24/7 menu for himself. Once the waitress is gone, he rests his arms on the table. "She's lucky that someone got her to the hospital in time. Accidents like that don't tend to turn out well." There's a small pause, glancing to see where everyone in the restraunt is, get a distance on things. "I have a question, about the first time we met. The woman with the cut…"

Bekah relaxes back against the seat. From the fact she's worn out, it might be lucky the woman got the doctor with a little extra ability as well. "No, they don't. She'll take time to heal, but well, she will heal." Bekah says before she glances around. Noting there's no one close enough to hear she looks over. "So ask." She says rather bluntly.

"Maybe it just looked worse than it actually was, but… after I washed it off it didn't really need to be bandaged at all," Peter states, which doesn't really come off as a question. He glances down at the table. "After that night, I've… seen some things that are similar. Cuts on other people— that heal really fast, things like that. I was wondering… have you ever seen anything like that before?"

Bekah looks over to Peter considering how to answer that. "Odd things happen all the time in this world." She states first before she adds. "I have seen things heal quite well." She finally admits, obviously a little bit uncomfortable from the look of her face.

"I think it was me that did it," Peter admits, eyes darting back to the waitress, to track her movement. She's still a good distance away, so he leans forward and meets her eyes. "Ever since that night, I've been able to… heal people. Sometimes. Not all the time, and not all the way, and only certain kinds of hurt. Bruises and cuts and broken bones— things like that."

Bekah bites her lip as she sits back pausing the conversation to smile at the waitress as her coffee is dropped off. She cradles the cup in her hands, sipping from it as she waits for the waitress to get far enough away to continue talking. "Injuries. Things caused by trauma, not by illness or genetics." Bekah states, as if she knows. "Does it wear you out?"

The lag in conversation gives Peter time to sip on his lemonade and wait for the woman to turn around and leave, which gives her time to respond and add more. "Trauma, yeah, that's a good description for it." He lets his lemonade settle while the cooks prepare their food. "You don't seem to be too disbelieving in this whole thing…" He adds, before he looks down at the table and softens his voice, "It makes me weak sometimes. Especially if I heal something really bad all the way, or if I was physically weakened by something else. And I've never been able to fix more than a couple people in a day."

Bekah continues to sip at her coffee. "Well, I could pretend to disbelieve it, but that might just end up making me look crazy." She looks over to Peter for a second before she adds. "Do you have to use touch for it to work? I've never been sure if that as in my head, because it works through gloves."

"I usually have to touch them, yeah," Peter says, glanding down at his hands for a quiet moment. "Though I can heal through gloves, so I'm not totally sure it's required. I haven't tried hovering my hand over someone and doing it, but I guess it might work like…" His voice trails off as the woman approaches with their plates, as well as ketchup and other fixings. It's a moment longer before he looks back, and reaches for his fork and knife. He doesn't start eating immediately. "My ability isn't to heal— it's to… when I meet people who can do things, I somehow… absorb what they can do. I was never totally sure who I got healing from— I knew when it happened, and I suspected it was the doctor in the hazmat suit, but I didn't know for sure."

Bekah starts to doctor her burger at one, adding ketchup and mustard, and a pile of ketchup for dipping fries into. "Well, I suppose it must be me you got it from then, I remember I tried to heal the cut a little to slow the bleeding. Cleaning up a bloody mess in a hazmat suit just isn't my idea of fun." Bekah states before she looks over. "That's quite an interesting ability."

"It's— probably the best ability I've gotten. One of them, at least. It has no selfish use— it doesn't hurt anyone. It weakens me, but I can handle that much," Peter says, cutting his omelet into small pieces with his fork, and sampling the first bite. Once he's managed to swallow, he glances across. "I wanted to thank you for that— whether you knew you gave it to me or not, it's been very useful. It's helped a lot of people I'm close to."

Bekah finishes off a fry before she talks. "I am very thankful for the ability I have. Most of the time I can't use it openly, but there's a reason I have very few trauma patients die beyond just knowing my stuff." She states before he looks over. "I'm glad to know someone else is making use of it as well. And, if you ever need more of it, you've got my number. Well, you do once you find your cell phone."

"I still had it, the— this is going to sound really weird," Peter says, running his hand through his hair. "I stopped into the hospital this morning to see if I left my cellphone there. And ended up picking up everything I had on me that day. I left almost everything I brought. My id, my wallet— I put your phone number in my wallet." He takes a few more bites, swallowing before he speaks again. "I wasn't supposed to be there at the hospital— I was in at least three places at once. That's why I'm not sure where I left my phone."
"That does sound wierd. Not that I haven't heard my share of wierd lately." Bekah comments shaking her head. "Maybe it's some new skill you picked up?" She suggests before turning her attention to her burger.

"I have an idea where I picked it up, it just never— happened before," Peter admits, taking a break from his breakfast-for-dinner with a drink from his lemonade. "And I understand wanting to lay low with your ability. When people I knew found out I could do that, they kept calling on me for their problems, be it bruises or more serious injuries." Not that he ever said no when someone asked— and usually he offered if he had the chance before they could even ask, but it's still something he can relate to. "And what— people like us can do— it's better if it remains secret."

Bekah nods her head. "I have some friends that know what I can do, and I'd help them any chance I have. Well, they haven't come to me for bruises yet." Maybe it's the snark they know they'd get for it. "But only a few, um, special people at work know what I can do. I don't want to become some lab experiment, you know?"

"No one does," Peter sympathizes, glancing across at the woman. "A lab experiment or used by people for what you can do, with no care on your own desires…" That must be something a person like him would worry about. "I don't want to ask you to reveal yourself, and I won't tell anyone what you can do— I pick up abilities so often that no one questions when I said I wasn't sure who I got it from. So you don't have to worry about that."

Bekah pauses for a moment for thinking, and consuming more cheeseburger. "If there is someone who needs my help, especially someone special in their own right and therefore less likely to run off to the tabloids, you have my permission to call me, even if that means revealing what I can do to them."

"If it's something I can't do on my own, it would be nice to call someone more experienced. I've found the people I've gotten ability from are usually a lot better at it than I am," Peter says, pushing his drink aside as the waitress comes back over to do refills. "Would either of you like some pie to follow up your dinner? We have some pumpkin left, as well as apple and peach?" At least Peter shakes his head in refusal, but he takes the check and fetches some bills from the wallet he nearly lost in the hospital on Christmas Eve.

Bekah shakes his head as well, pulling her own wallet out of the pocket of her coat to get her half of the check. "I can't use it on myself either, so if I ever really need to, it's also nice to know some else who can do this nifty thing." She states when the waitress is far enough away.

"Of course," Peter adds, grinning a little. "I never tried to use it on myself, honestly, cause I didn't have to." He says, after the waitress leaves to go check on a new set of customers who just appeared, probably late shifters finally filtering in. "If you ever need it, Dr. Applebaum knows where to find me, as do you too."

Bekah smiles over to Peter. "I've tried. Doesn't work." She says before she nods. "By the way, Sam, Dr. Applebaum, knows all about what I can do." Just to save any awkwardness in the future. She works to polish off the last of her food,

It's mid evening in Lucky Joe's, with very few tables full. Peter and Bekah sit at one of them, across from each other. He's laying down half of the bill in cash on top of the sheet of paper on their table. They've almost finished, though he has some hashbrowns left, "She knows what I can do too. Found out when I decided to yell about something and it ended— poorly. For everything in the room."

Randall shoulders open the door to Joe's, leaning back as Kory steps inside with him. "Go ahead and grab us a table?" he asks. "I still need to go wash up." His hands are still somewhat dark with charcoal, and there are a few traces up closer to his left elbow as well.

Kory nods, and glances around. There's a large mastiff, collared and leashed, walking in a well-mannered heel beside her. She glances around to see if that'll be a problem, then decides on a table near the door in case the dog is an issue. One click of her tongue, and he crawls under the table to lie down with his nose pointing out.

Bekah winces at Peter. "Do much damage? Hopefully only the room and not the eardrums of the people in it." Bekah states. She puts out the other half of the bill then is distracted from the final french fry by the entrance of Kory, or rather the huge dog with Kory.

"Just the room, but it happened to have a lot of glass objects…" Peter admits, scratching his forehead a little as he pushes his hair out of the way. As she looks across at the people who entered, he glances behind him to the other table right next to the door. The dog gets noticed at first, of course, but he blinks in surprise at the person with the dog. And the man too. But mostly the woman. "Kory, hey."

Randall heads back to the men's room, emerging just a half-minute later and looking a good bit cleaner. "Hey, thanks," he says to Kory as he catches back up to her, before his gaze flits over to Peter. "Hi, have we met before?" They did, once, though there was a notable distraction at the time.

Kory looks up, at the sound of her name. And breaks into the sunniest smile. "Peter! Hey! Happy New Year, hon!" It takes her a second or two to place Bekah, but she does, and she adds a greeting to Bekah. "Hey, Doctor Awesome. Happy New Year to you too." She takes Randall's question as prompting. "Randall, this is Peter. Peter, my boyfriend Randall."

Bekah raises her eyebrows at Kory. "Doctor Awesome. That makes me feel like I should be trading in my scrubs for tight and a cape." She jokes as she reaches out to drain the last of her coffee from her cup, giving the empty thing a rather sad look.

"Doctor Awesome," Peter repeats, grinning a little at the nickname. "You look a little familiar, but I don't know exactly where I've seen you…" There's something about this that seems to amuse him, though, as he starts to stand, offering his hand to the now clean hands of Randall's. "Nice to meet you. You're a lucky guy," he repeats something he said once before, a hint of a smile at Kory. "Happy New Year, to both of you."

Randall smirks at Bekah's mental image, even as he leans forward to shake hands with Peter. "You too— and yeah, I am," he adds, glancing over at Kory. "Happy New Year." He leans against the back of a chair, glancing down at Ronnie to make sure he's all right down there.

Kory grins back at Bekah. "Hey, if it hadn't been for you, I'd have been laid up with that ankle forever," she points out. "That's pretty awesome to me." Kory blushes, at Peter's compliment, and grins. She remembers their conversation. "I'm the lucky one."

The dog is dozing contentedly, and looks up at Randall curiously.

Bekah gives Kory a smile and a wave of her hand. "Any doctor in the ER could have helped you out." Not the same way Bekah did, but well, that's beside the point. Her food is done, her coffee is gone, and she's covering a yawn with her hand. "It was good to see you, but it was a long shift. I should get home to crash."

"Yeah, I need to get going soon too, honestly— Though I'd love to stay and get to know your boyfriend," Peter admits, looking at Randall for a long moment before he downs a final forkful of his hashbrowns. "Thanks for meeting me, Dr. Morgan. Hopefully I'll have my cellphone back so you can call me soon."

After a quick wave to Ron - don't worry, man, nobody here but us friendly humans - Randall looks back up, blinking. Any particular reason for… nah, the guy's probably just being polite to a (boy)friend of a friend. "Nice to meet you too, Doctor," he says to Bekah, while watching to see whether Peter is heading out right away or in a few.

"Awww, that's too bad," Kory says, as both friends move to depart. "We'll have to hang out after things slow down. I know there's a party being planned that I'm supposed to be spinning for sometime near the end of the month. Maybe we can get together around then." She brushes damp hair out of her face. "Because if I know the two of you, you both need some time to unwind and relax." Peter, in particular, gets a worried, pointed look.

Bekah stands and pulls her parka back tight, zipping it up. Then she gives Kory a smile. "Unwind and relax? You mean people actually do that?" She asks with a fake suprised look on her face. "Have a good night. Good luck with the phone." She adds towards Peter on her way out.

"I do need to talk to you soon, so we'll see each other then. I just have to… tie up some loose ends," Peter says, looking toward Kory, but not saying all of what happened. "I'll give you a call as soon as things get cleared up." He lingers a moment, before nodding at Bekah. "I hope I find it soon." Though they might head out the door together, he heads home another way.

Randall waves casually to the pair who are heading out. "Which party is it?" he asks Kory. "I haven't actually heard you put together any live sets yet, just your home collection." Nor has she seen much if anything of his day job, but then he changes it around every month or two.

Kory nods. "Of course. I've been wondering when you'd get around to that," Kory says to Peter. "Number hasn't changed. Or just swing by when you can." She waves after both of them. "It's still being decided which party, or whose. I think they're going for a Tropical theme, since it's been so cold this winter. Spins hasn't given me details yet, which means he's not got them ironed out yet."

"So it's the club just throwing a party for whoever shows up that night?" Randall scratches his head. "Tropical's always a good theme, gives people an excuse to really cut loose with bright colors."

"Yeah, pretty much," Kory confirms. "I did a Senor Coconut and Chemical Brothers track, and they really liked how it worked, so they want some more like it." She shrugs, and picks up a menu. "And tropical is always a good bet in the winter. When people want to think about being hot."

Randall laughs and nods. "Power of perception. Now Chemical Brothers I know, at least one or two tracks, but Senor Coconut? That sounds like a guest character on Chespirito." The one with the guy in the bee costume.

"He's a cover artist. He covers techno-pop bossa-nova and tango style," Kory explains. "Which is why it goes so well with Chemical Brothers and turns into beautiful happy hardcore."

Randall just settles on a Coke for now, postponing any decision on what to eat. "What about tossing in Harvey Danger around the edges? That's the great thing about music— you can do stuff that, on paper, shouldn't work, but then it does anyway. Mozart did it, Debussy did it, now people are doing it by the hundreds."

"Harvey…" Kory falls silent, eyes drifting off and to the upper right, as she apparently is watching lyrics and notes dance on some screen before her inner eye. "You know, I think that might very well work, love," she says, dreamily. Her fingers tap on the table and her gaze remains fixed on the music he suggested. The waitress brings her a hot tea in one of those little round bubble brew devices.

Ah, there's that word again; Randall is still getting used to it. He smiles, but recognizes the composer's trance for what it is, and doesn't interrupt. "Yeah, are the jalapeno poppers good today?" he asks a waitress as she stops by to check up on the table.

Gah. Jalapeno poppers. It must be love. Kory blinks and asks, "Are there any stuffed mushrooms left?" Then she reaches across and squeezes Randall's hand. He let her sort the thought through. "Oh, and could I get a rare hamburger, plain? Blood rare?" For the dog, of course.

Randall blinks in confusion; 'of course' doesn't apply when you're not used to dealing with pets all the time. "I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, medium rare. No, leave off the bacon, the sides'll do enough damage as it is."

Kory doesn't mind a burger blood rare herself, but in this case, she blinks at Randall's confused expression. "It's for Ickle Ronniekins," she explains to him. "Plain hamburger with no fixings, the guys let him have." The dog, roused by the mention of his name, butts his head first against Kory's knees, then against Randall's, before lying back down again.

"Oh, okay," says Randall, visibly easing up again. "I was almost thinking of Mrs. Scorzafava again…" Except that couldn't possibly be the case. "Anyway, what're you having? And I think you mentioned at least one of your dogs being on a real weird diet, I take it this is him?"

Mrs —? Kory raises a brow, since she knows that name only came up the once. "Nah, you're thinking of Trivet," Kory says, with a wave of her hand. "Ronnie's just spoiled rotten. The guys make him poached eggs." She makes a face. Poached eggs apparently are filed under 'ew' in the Kory lexicon. "And mashed potatoes with tiny bits of cut up hotdog. Yes, they do." She takes the baby talk voice to the dog, who has laid his head in her lap.

Randall sighs, resting his chin in his hands and idly reaching for a napkin, folding it back and forth at different angles. "I'm not sure if I ever tried poached eggs, they just don't sound quite right. Hard-boiled, sure, if you've got a little salt to go with." He leans down to give Ronnie another quick look. Yeah, that's why his eyes are pointed down there. "Hot dog's not so bad if they use a dicer, is it? Not like he's gonna mind it being made out of Random Parts."

"Oh, no, these are organic hotdogs," Kory confirms. "You think those two are gonna eat unidentifiable hotodgs? Nothing less than Hebrew National or something better." And by her tone, pricier. "I guess I can't blame them. If I had the money to live as they do, I'd probably do silly things with it, too." She thanks the waitress for the stuffed mushrooms and forks one. While she waits for it to cool, she asks, "How'd you get schmutz all over your hands, anyway?"

Randall sets the napkin aside. "I've been drawing all afternoon," he explains, "making quick portraits— for tourists, mostly. Fortunately there's a never-ending supply of those, especially around this time of year. Just didn't have a chance to clean up until now."

Kory's eyes widen, and she pauses, forked mushroom halfway to her lips. "You draw?" And she's only just now finding this out. Which is okay. She's delighted, actually. Delighted that she has lots of things she hasn't found out about Randall yet. "Where were you drawing in this weather?" A moment of concern.

He's pretty good at it, even. "Couple blocks from the other place," Randall explains, "there's a steam grate nearby so it stays pretty warm. The other job fell apart pretty quick— owner decided he'd rather just close up early than pay someone to work the late shift."

Kory winces at that idea, and of course is a little worried and it shows on her face. She's a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. Both sleeves. "We could probably manage one more shift at the Lair," she suggests. "Especially if Tito's as sick as KeLyssa said he was when she called this morning."

Randall shakes his head. "I'm flattered - and I hope you find someone good to fill in - but you don't really want me working there, Kory… I'd be too tempted to go read the merchandise myself and not keep up with the customers. I thought about applying at Enlightenment a while back, but it'd be the same thing there, probably even worse."

Kory opens her mouth to protest. There are slow periods where one can read the merchandise, but Kory can't really offer that counter-argument because she has more time to read than the other two employees put together. "…all right," she murmurs. "What else do you like to do that someone might pay you for, then?"

Randall starts fiddling with the napkin again as he considers the question. "I like the portrait thing, actually, just depends on how long the business keeps up. Don't worry too much, I've been able to find stuff okay so far."

"I'll try not to," Kory agrees, tentatively. "But you've known me awhile. Long enough to know worrying's in my nature." Randall has stopped her from spiralling on more than one occasion, even.

There's a hand motion, as if Randall is about to answer— but it's cut short by the arrival of the main course, all three helpings of it. "Maybe I should look for a job as a masseur, then, get some practice."

Kory chuckles affectionately at Randall's comment. Conversation soon shifts away from worries to hopes for the new year, and the sort of give and take new lovers exhibit as they continue to get to know each other.

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