2007-06-12: Soap And Orange Juice


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Peter visits Cass in the hospital and they practice his healing ability.

June 12th, 2007:

Soap and Orange Juice

Beth Isreal

It's been a lot more boring for Cass now that she's mostly off the morphine and just stuck with TV and books and bed rest. Now that she can actually /talk/ to her visitors it's a bit nicer, though. Though she remembers much of what happened and who came to see her while she was awake during her stint as a drugged up hospital patient, it's still scattered with daydreams and things that probably did not happen. So, she's filling her days with things she's /sure/ that she's not going to mess up with real life - daytime soaps. And primetime. She hasn't watched TV regularly in a very long while and she's realized now that it's kind of addictive. Especially those over the top story lines and borderline scene chewing acting jobs. It's one of those soaps on right now, something about doctors and a hospital and tangled relationships. And she's actually a bit engrossed in it.

Before arriving in the heart of the hospital, Peter attempts to place another phone call, but when the phone doesn't pick up, he leaves a voice mail before turning his phone off. Just a quick message to explain why his phone would be off in case a return call happens. With the phone tucked away into his pocket, he finds the room and knocks, before peeking in. He hasn't visited in a couple days, before she got taken off the morphine, and none of his visits have been exactly coherent. He's not expecting much else today, either. The television is on, playing in the background, which he takes with a grain of salt. Doped up patients can watch television too. "Cass?" he asks as he steps inside a bit. He looks mostly the same as she'd last remember, except for the presence of stubble. Apparently he forgot to save this morning, and possiblye the day before, too.

Luckily for Peter, Cass is more coherent today. If embarrassed that she's caught watching soap operas. "Peter!" A scrambling around her bedclothes for the remote to turn off the damning screen. It, with her luck, goes tumbling off the bed and clatters to the floor where Cass can only let out a breath of frustration. "Figures," she sighs. Looks like she's mostly back to normal disposition. No talking about ninjas and pirates or evil balloons. Or alien Jell-o. All topics that may have come up when she was not in her right mind. Deciding that if she ignores the TV maybe he will, she gives him a warm smile. "Hey. It's good to see you. When I can concentrate." She notices the stubble, but the smile still does not falter. "How are you doing?"

"You don't have to be ashamed of soap operas," Peter says with a laugh, stepping over to the bedside and bending down to pick up the remote and turn the volume down. Not all the way off, just down. At least this way she can glance over his shoulder and see if the doctor breaks the poor nurse's heart, or something. "I used to read the stock pages to my patient. That was pretty pathetic." He sets the remote down within her reach, before he grabs a chair and pulls it close, sitting down. "You've been a bit out of things the last times I visited." He's not even sure if she remembers them. But it confirms he did stop in. After the first week. He would have stopped in earlier, but he couldn't. "I'm doing fine. Have the doctors told you anything?" He could try to snag her file and look it over, but he doesn't have a right as just an employee.

It's not exactly that Cass is /ashamed/ of soap operas. It's that they're just a little guilty pleasure that she's starting to develop. And they're /soap operas/. Not exactly high minded entertainment. She smiles, though. "Oh, but I should. They're turning into a bit of a guilty pleasure. I mean, it's kind of Shakespearean entertainment. Just missed opportunities, evil versus good, bad jokes. Okay, I'm just trying to make it sound of higher quality than it is." As for her being out of things, she shrugs and focuses her attention on Peter. Just because it's an involving tv show doesn't mean she's not going to pay attention to her friend. "Yeah. I…I've been getting that. I was apparently entertaining, though. So, silver lining. Good to know I can entertain a room by just being on a morphine drip." Her grin turns more wry at that. "Anyway, just the basics. That I made a remarkable recovery, I'm lucky to be alive, the whole deal." She's been thinking about things now that she can. "You know, your brother told me you were here. In a coma. I'm not sure if that actually happened, though, because he was wearing one of those fruit hats and a cabana dress. But…" she thinks. "Did you help me?" Because she /should/ be dead and she's not. And people still haven't told her everything. "Did you fall into that coma because of me?"

There's a nod, as Peter knows that much. In some ways he was hoping for details, but that might require a little more than just asking the patient. He could start giving her questions a nurse would, but— he's not her nurse. It's the mention of his brother, and the coma, that makes him straighten. "My brother has a big mouth," he says softly, leaning back into the chair, and a little away from her. "And he watched soap operas too," he notes, a hint of a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth. Lopsided and flawed, but all his. But then the smile fades and he nods, "Yeah— I helped you. Overdid things a little, but it's not your fault. If it meant keeping someone alive, I'd do it again." Nothing faked about that. He means it with all of his heart. "Just glad I was able to." There's a hint of 'wish I could've' in the way he adds that. Though it's obviously a wish that he could've done it at another time.

There's not really much detail that Cass can give about her medical diagnosis. All she knows is she was shot three times. Everything else was happened while she was too loopy to let any of the medical jargon that they spouted. "That he does," she agrees. "But he seems like a good guy from what I could tell." The mention of him watching soap operas makes her chuckle. Her expression fades into something much more serious, though at his answer. "I had this really vivid dream while I was out. Of you talking to me over a loudspeaker when I was out," she says softly. "It was weird. I wanted to talk back, but it was like I was mute. I couldn't as much as I wanted to." There's a long pause and she looks over at Peter, giving him an expression that's equal amounts gratitude, fondness and some other emotion - it's hard to pinpoint it. It's where some women would cry, but Cass doesn't really do that. She just looks determined for some reason. "You saved my life, Peter. Thank you." Her voice is filled with emotion, too. "I'm really glad that I met you. And not just because of this. You're….you're a remarkable man, Peter Petrelli."

"He's a good guy, yeah," Peter says, unable to deny it even when other evidence would point a different direction. Half of the city wouldn't be standing if it hadn't been for that one good man, after all. Everyone has flaws, but he came through when it really mattered. "Wasn't a dream. During your surgery— I was trying to keep your brain active, so there was less chance you'd slip into a coma when they were finished." It'd been at Elena's suggestion, something that her father had done with Eric when he'd gotten shot. He sits up during the explaination. "Between that and using Elena's ability— took a lot out of me." Her surgery had taken /hours/… Hours of switching between two rather difficult abilities that requited consentration. "When you were out, I tried to heal you— that should have got you out of the worst of it." At the compliment and the thanks, his eyes lower and he fidgets with his sleeve. "I'm glad that you're okay. And…" The hand he's fidgeting with reaches up, towards her arm, and reaches to touch her fingers. "…I'm glad I met you, too."

GAME: Peter has rolled BEKAH and got a result of MEDIOCRE.

Though vaguely aware of Nathan's part in the rescue of New York City, Cass still doesn't know it was /him/ that did it. "Well. It was active…if bouncing off of psychic walls. I didn't even get a near-death experience. Isn't that sad? I'm the owner of an occult bookstore and when I finally get my chance, all I get is a room with a loudspeaker. Sad, isn't it?" Because, really, that's the sad part of all this. Not her getting shot or laid up in the hospital, the inability for her to have something to talk about at the bookstore with her customers. Really. "It did. The doctors keep telling me I have remarkable healing abilities." She smiles, wryly at that and takes Peter's fingers in her own hand. "Glad to hear it. That could have been a really awkward moment if you were regretting meeting me." Not that she believes it, but anything is possible.

"Sorry about that," Peter actually looks sheepish, for ruining her chance at a near death experience. "Next time I'll only start yelling at your brain if you're actually in the coma." Next time!? Well, never know, right? She seems to have worse luck than some people, doesn't she? He could name a few… "Not as remarkable as some— but as someone who's died a few times… it's not much to write books about. I haven't had one of those yet." The closest he's had to a near death experience, like in those books, would actually be his dreams. He'd not been dead at the time, but passed out suddenly and thrust into a dream. "Don't think I could regret meeting you. You've been a big help… and I have to get paid somehow." The last part is added with a hint of a shrug, one of those things where he's playing off a joke to avoid embarassment.

GAME: Peter has rolled BEKAH and got a result of GOOD.

There's a laugh. "Oh, believe me, I'm not going to complain. Hopefully there /won't/ be a next time. But if there is, no need to wait." It's true. Cass seems to have a lot less luck than other people. Or maybe she just keeps finding herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, she's a danger magnet. "Man. The fact that we can talk about that without even blinking is kind of a trip, isn't it?" Once in awhile that idea still hits home. How strange this would have been to her a couple months ago while now it's common place. The joke is received with a bit of a laugh, too. Meaning she took it the right way. "That's true. If I'd have died, you'd have to find yourself another job. Job searching is such a bummer." A slight pause. "As soon as I'm out of this place, we should pick up where we left off. There's still so much to do."

"Yeah— a year ago this all strike me as crazy, but…" Now it's almost become the norm. If a month went by where he didn't die… that would seem abnormal. "Without you I'd probably be stuck working for my brother at his new campaign office. Working with family is never a good idea," Peter adds, smiling faintly. And politics isn't something he wants to do, anyway. Having felt the ability do what he wanted, he releases her hand finally and sits up. "Could always practice here. Not with the more flashy stuff, obviously, but… are you allowed to walk yet? I could walk with you and meet up with some other patients… All I need is to touch them," he says cautiously, knowing that this particular thing may be a risk, but since he's never healed anyone all the way ever… it wouldn't cause too big of a scene, would it? Just give them a push in the right direction, for the trauma patients. How it would work on other things, he doesn't know, but he's seen it fix cuts and bruises and broken bones.

"Ew. Politics." Cass wrinkles her nose. She's never liked it. Too much mudslinging and lies. Part of the reason why she was so slow on the uptake about Nathan and his last name. "I like that idea." Working while still at the hospital. "I'm…well, I don't think I'm really supposed to do /much/ walking. But, I'm feeling a lot better today. I think I can risk it. And worse come to worse, turn us invisible and whisk me away to the room. That way it was like it never happened." She grins. Already she's slowly throwing off the sheets and blankets and rearranging her hospital gown. "You'll…you'll let me know if…things are showing, right?" Because hospital gowns are notorious for that. Then, she eases off the bed and grabs a hold of her IV. That's going to have to come with her. "Okay. Let's do this before my scary doctor walks in."

Since she's concerned about 'things showing', Peter approaches the closet and opens it up, sorting through the drawers before he finds what he's looking for… a pair of pants. Good thing about being a nurse. He knows they keep those kinds of things for walks. "It's good for you to be on your legs anyway, if you can. Keeps up the exersize." He holds out the loose draw string one-size-fits-all pants to her so she can put them on under her gown. He politely diverts his eyes until she's ready, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light and closing the door. This way they can think she's in the bathroom. It might delay a raising of the alarm by a few minutes if they come in to check her chart. Once she's ready, he leads the way to the door, and stays close to her, in case she's wobbly, even offering her an arm. "So you have a scary doctor?"

Handy! Cass takes the pants and quickly slides them on once Peter's back is turned to go turn on the lights of the bathroom. "Sneaky," she smiles at him. It's true, she is a woobly on her feet after having been in bed for so long. Gratefully she takes his arm. "Yeah. It's good to be standing. And…well…shuffling." That's the best she can come up with as a suggestion to what she's doing. It's not really walking. It's a slow shuffling gate. "He /is/ kind of scary. All the interns scatter when he walks by. Except this one who keeps following him around like a lost puppy. It's kind of adorable. He, Lach and Jack got into a fight at one point. I think it had something to do with ninjas?" Out the door they go and off on their walk to find people for him to practice his healing on.

GAME: Peter has rolled BEKAH and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA and got a result of MEDIOCRE.

"I can be sneaky every so often," Peter admits, winking in her direction before he goes to take her arm and help her with her wobbly and shuffle. The stretching will do her a load of good, he knows, and make her recovery faster. And it isn't as if he's an inexperienced family member taking her for a walk when she could collapse and need medical attention. If she does collapse, he knows what to do. More than just yell for a nurse or a doctor. "I'll keep an eye out for him, then." Interns scattering usually means a few things. But usually attitude based or report-based. If Lachlan and Jack got into a fight with him over ninjas, though… "Just say something if you get tired and want to turn around and walk back, okay?" he says after they pass the first doorway. There's not many people in the hallway, but there's at least one older gentleman walking down the hall with a IV cart on wheels just the same as she is. Only he doesn't even have a nurse with him. A bandage rests around his head, and he shuffles even worse than Cass. As they get closer, he asks where the nurse's station is, rather glassy eyed. Looking back and forth down the hall, he reaches over and touches the man's wrist and says, "You should go back to your room, sir, but there's a nurses station at the first right this way— not much further." When the young man's hand moves away, the older man thanks him, and starts to walk away moving a lot easier— but the man doing the healing? He's not looking too good at all. Not the normal sweaty and fever look she might have come used to, but he suddenly says, "…I think I need to sit down…"

"And you're quite good at it." Cass smiles and as she continues to walk, her footing gets a bit surer. It was only the very beginning that she really nees Peter's assistance. But she keeps a hold on him just in case. The last thing she needs is to break a bone because she exherted herself too much and fainted. As the man comes and goes, she smiles at him friendly enough, but her attention is on Peter. Especially when looks so unwell. Now it's her turn to try and put an arm around him to guide him to one of those seats that scatter the hallways. "And you were worried about /me/ getting too tired," she smiles. "Come on, you should sit down. Maybe we rushed things a bit too fast."

Rushed too fast would definitely be a possibility. "…sorry…" Peter makes it over to the bench to seat to sink into it— and then he sinks just a little too much. By sheer will alone he stayed on his feet long enough to sit down, and now it looks as if he's fainted right into the chair. Really— he was worried about /her/ fainting from over exertion. It's almost funny. The old man continues to walk, much steadier, without any sign of injury now, and looking surprised at the lack of pain. Maybe the drugs finally kicked in. He turns around and starts wheeling back towards his room. Even his eyes are less glassy than they'd been, only odd at all because of the drugs still feeding into his veins from the IV drip. As he gets closer, he even sounds less rasped, "Does he need a nurse, sweetheart?" Kindly old man can get away with calling taken young woman such a nickname.

"Don't be." Because Cass doesn't seem to mind. She's just worried. As soon as he's seated, she sits down immediately next to him to make sure that he's okay. She does notice how much better the man is looking and walking. So, it looks like that worked very well. For the old man, not so much for Peter. "I…I don't know," she tells him. Because, it's true, sweet old men can get away with calling younger women sweetheart. "Are you going to be okay, Peter? I think he just needs something for his blood sugar. And some time to rest." Luckily, she's already got a hospital room where he can do that in until he's strong enough to walk out on his own two feet.

GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA+PENALTY and got a result of MEDIOCRE.

Is Peter going to be okay? Very likely yes. But right now there's no way of knowing that, because he's not exactly responding to her words. In fact his eyes are closed and he's slumped in such a way that makes it clear that he's no longer conscious. Looks like there's a side effect of this particular ability he hadn't prepared himself for. Good place to find it out, though, isn't it? "I'll go and fetch a nurse for you," the older man says, rolling the IV drip with him towards that nurse's station he was told about. It won't take too long for a nurse to get brought down. Will he wake up before she gets there?

Though Cass knows that he can heal himself, Peter passing out on her is /not/ how she wanted to spend their first training session after her hospital stay. She doesn't bother shaking him, because that's not the best way to get someone out of being unconscious. Instead, she merely checks his pulse and makes sure he's not running a fever. "Thank you," she tells the older man gratefully. Between the two of them, he's probably going to get there faster. And this way she can try to tend to Peter herself. And hope that he'll wake up before the nurses get there. "Come on, Peter."

GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA+PENALTY and got a result of GOOD.

As she's checking his pulse, there's a change in the beat and suddenly his eyes open and Peter sits up rather weakly. "Cass?" he asks in a softer voice. At least he's conscious again. "…Did I pass out?" he asks, looking around and down towards his wrist that she's holding. "It felt like… all the energy just went out of me…" There's a lot to say for what happened to him. Maybe a sudden anemic sensation, but… "Doesn't feel like when I really passed out though. Never happened when I did that before." Glancing to look down the hall, where the old man is still visible, he looks for the changes. He really must have helped that man.

As soon as Peter's eyes open, Cass lets out a relieved breath. "Hey. You gave me a bit of a scare, there." Her eyes follow his and she smiles. "You really did a number on him. I wouldn't surprised if he tapdances his way back here with a nurse." Then she turns back to him. "We should be careful with that one. Healing takes something out of you. Looks like it can make you faint just a tad more easily as any of your other powers. We'll have to figure out if there's a way to control how much you heal someone." Something to think about while she's just lying down. "I think that's enough excitement for the both of us for now." She smiles. "Want to escort me back to my room? I've got a lovely container of orange juice that you should probably drink."

"Yeah, should… be more careful," Peter admits after a moment, running a hand over his hair as he works to get himself back on his feet. Now it's his turn to wobble and have a gait that makes him look weak in the knees. The old man is definitely walking better than he is. "Yeah, we'll have to figure something out— do tests in more controlled enviroments." It's a shame, too, because he really wanted to help people. More than one. One is nice— that old man probably has grand children that he can get back home to see, or maybe a kindly old wife. Helping one person is better than none. "I'll take you up on that orange juice," he says, taking her arm again, though he sticks close to the wall in case he needs to lean. He won't put his weight on her— not when she's weak too. And hopefully they'll avoid the scary doctor.

"I'll be here for a little while longer," Cass replies with a smile. "And we can always go visit another hospital to practice." It's good to see their practicing going to some good use other than just making Peter stronger. That's good, but this is also a help. "This isn't the last time we practice this one. I'll just make sure I'll have a case of smelling salts. And a jug of OJ." To keep up his blood sugar. "Good good. I wasn't about to take no for an answer." Using her IV stand, she pulls herself up into a standing position and takes Peter's arm again with a grin. "My. We're a pair, aren't we. Barely two legs to stand on." And, luckily enough, the scary Dr. Dickstein is nowhere to be seen in the halls. Though there's a bellowing voice yelling out, "NEWBIE" somewhere.

Smelling salts and orange juice sound like a good idea, and Peter can't help but smile and nod as they both make their way towards the room they'd /just left/. The nurse would probably be coming back by now if the station wasn't surprised at the old man being out of his bed and /looking so well/. That will keep them from investigating for a short time, enough for them to get back to the room. "What legs we have are enough, though." Enough to get them where they need to go. The longer he walks, the better he moves. But he'll still need the orange juice and the long rest when they get back to the room. "Wouldn't happen to have a deck of cards, would you?" he asks, smirking lopsidedly. "Or do I get to watch some of your soap with you?"

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