Starring:
Summary: To have a spine: Also known as having a backbone, the ability to do what's right even if it will be difficult. In other words, not cowardly. This happens shortly after the events in Spin
Date It Happened: 7 FEBRUARY 2008
Spine
Heidi's Hotel Room
It's a modest ten-storey hotel somewhere in New York. Nice, but not lavish, and comfortable. She's got a room on the fifth floor with a view of a brick wall. That's how she wanted it, though - no one can see her in this room, and she plans to stay in it for awhile.
There's a small kitchenette, a bathroom - the shower isn't so great, but she'll live - and one queen-sized bed. A table and chairs sits under a standing lamp in one corner, and under that is a cat bed, where Spica is quietly sleeping.
Heidi herself is in one of the chairs, waiting for George to arrive. Around her arm is a brand new cast, considering there's blood on the other one… Finding a doctor willing to perform a cast change at three in the morning was nearly impossible, but she's becoming much more resourceful. Currently, it's approaching daylight, though it's not here yet. It'll be an hour at least before the sun rises.
—-
Finding an employee willing to make a visit at five in the morning is not much easier; few of them get away with working strict banker's hours, but most of them consider it sufficient to stay in touch by cell phone and/or e-mail. And this time, it's not even the boss making the request, it's his wife. Then again, that's why George gets paid the big bucks. At least the traffic isn't quite so bad - just a half hour on the road.
He leans against the side of the elevator car until it arrives, then double-checks the number and pads down the hall, hoping that there's still some complimentary coffee left.
Knock, knock, Heidi.
—-
The woman who answers the door is somewhat different than what George might recognise. She's still hurting, there are red gashes down one side of her face that look long-healed, and the look in her eyes is nothing but suspicious. She doesn't smile, or say hello, or thank you for coming. No.
She's got a pistol leveled on him. "Get in here. Sit down." Heidi has to figure out where George's mind is in all of this. Does he know about Logan? Is he willingly working with the monster? She knows that Jack is, and is more than a little put off by that.
—-
At the sight of the gun, George promptly puts his hands in the air, glancing past Heidi and then back again as he steps inside. That coffee will have to wait… not that the implied threat against his life hasn't done a grade-A job of snapping him into full alertness. "What the hell's going on?" he asks, once the door is safely closed.
—-
"Hm." Maybe he doesn't know, and that's why he's surprised! Or maybe he knows and he's just clever at hiding it! Being this paranoid sucks, and it's sapping a lot of energy just to keep herself focused. "You're working with Nathan," she says, using her husband's name rather than the name of the monster who's using his skin. Honestly, Heidi has no idea what George has done for Logan so far, but whatever it is, it can't be anything good. "and so— So I have to talk to you about…" She looks away for a moment, then back. "Have you heard anything about multiple personality disorder?"
—-
As it happens, George hasn't done all that much. Yet. Delivered some 'medical samples', met a Pinehearst rep while the senator was 'tied up at the Capitol', plus some general holding-down-the-fort in New York that really has nothing to do with the issue at hand. "I've heard of it," he replies to Heidi. "Technical name for schizophrenia, right?"
—-
She's taking a huge chance here, because it's something that she promised she'd never tell to anyone. The boys don't even know, and that's how it should stay. The more people who know, the harder it is to keep the secret contained, but … desperate times and all that. "There are — " She sighs, gesturing to the bed with the firearm in an indication that George should sit. "There are people in the world that can do things. Abilities, powers, whatever they're called. Some people can effect pain, or … fly, or heal. That's why I'm out of the hospital. I was healed. That's the only proof I have. I know it's probably a lot to take in, but you have to believe me."
—-
Oh, that's right, there was a second half to that instruction. Why the bed instead of a chair? Obviously not because—
Anyway.
George walks over, sits down. And meets Heidi's gaze directly. "I've… met a few, yes," he replies, simply. No names, no specifics. And no mention of his own.
—-
"Good. That makes explaining this a little easier." Not a whole lot easier, but it means they can skip the incredulous Q&A about how the hell people can fly. Hard to believe it hasn't even been a year since she found out, and she's already accepted it as commonplace. When Nathan flew off the roof of the hotel, she didn't even consider until later that that was damn bizarre.
"I learned… at some point that people with abilities might be prone to…" Well, she didn't learn it. It was a guess by Nathan, and it turned out to be right as far as Heidi can see. "If you breathe a word of this, I swear, George…" Leaving the threat open-ended, she goes on. "Nathan. Nathan can fly. Nathan told me… that people with abilities might develop this… thing. He says he knew of someone else it happened to."
—-
George arches a brow. Nathan is one of them, too? He won't spill the beans, of course, but if anyone else ever does… he's already got a new ad campaign in mind.
Back to the immediate situation, though. "This 'thing'. This is where the MPD comes in? I've never heard anything about that." Which doesn't mean it isn't true.
Clasping his hands together, he tries to fit this new information together with what he already knows. Nathan has been acting increasingly strangely over the past few months. "Is it happening to him?" And then there's the woman, the usually quiet wife and mother, who's pointing a gun at him. She said she 'was healed', not that she 'healed herself', but that's still open to a number of interpretations. "Is— is it happening to you?"
No mention of Peter, of the blood recently on his hands. Presumably, then, he doesn't know anything about that.
—-
Heidi hopes she's not being naive, but she finally puts the firearm down on the table. It wasn't loaded, anyway, because she's afraid of it actually going off in her hand, and she really, really does not want that to happen. The sight of it is hopefully enough of a threat. "I don't have an ability," she says. Pulling up a chair, she sits down across from George, meeting his eyes. No, it's not happening to her.
"He calls himself Logan. Actually, no. He calls himself Nathan, but it's not him. Nathan's still there, he just… Can't react. It's like he's trapped. Logan… was driving the car I was in when it crashed. He opened the door and flew out. He tried to kill me." She looks back at the gun. "I'm sorry about that, but I can't trust him, and I don't know if I can trust his employees.
"I don't know if you consider him a friend or a paycheck, George. I don't care if you work for him or with him. I'm not going to stop you, whatever you decide, but I think you need to be aware of what's going on. He needs help, and he can't get it if he has everyone thinking that everything is okay."
—-
Either George is similarly concerned, or he's an awfully good actor. His expression goes sour; his hands twist together. Assuming this is true - and, while weird, it makes more sense than the idea that Heidi would have some reason to invent a lie this big - not only is he responsible for transporting chemical concoctions for God only knows what real purpose, but also smoothing things over with the press for that very same car crash.
"This won't be easy," he eventually replies. "If I do anything obvious, he'll just can me" - or worse? - "and bring in someone else who's none the wiser. But I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, is he going to get help? You know someone who heals bodies, do you know anyone who heals minds? Because I don't." There was that one DJ, but she's been out of touch for a while, and that ability might not work right in this situation anyway.
—-
She wishes she were inventing it. The last time she really saw her husband whole and himself was that day on the roof, where she was trying to remove Christmas decorations. "Just do what he asks," Heidi says. "As long as it's not— You know. As long as you're not— If you have any morality issues…" In other words, if Nathan orders you to kill someone, it's not really Nathan. That would be the time to say 'no.'
"I'm trying to get through to him. Have, sometimes. It's not easy. This man— " No. "This thing is different from Nathan. He's selfish, violent. If he really thinks his life is in danger, he'll do just about anything. He's a coward." She isn't going to say what she did earlier in the night to get through to him, and while not ashamed of it, she… Isn't exactly in her right mind at the moment, either. Not crazy, just angry. "There's a man named Ramon Gomez. That's where we were going when Logan took over and crashed the car. Nathan thinks Gomez can help him."
—-
Heidi shakes her head. "No, not right now. He's dangerous. You can't let him know that you know. Right now, we can't really do anything, but I …" She sighs. There's too many people in the world that Logan can use. No one can warn all of them. "Start rumours. Tell some of the other people you trust — Make something up so they tell others. Just… Cast doubt." They can hire new employees later. "Make it convincing, but don't tell them what I told you. I don't want Nathan hurt. If I can, I want to save him."
—-
"That's going to make things even harder," replies George, getting up and (since the weapon is no longer in play) looking around for that much-desired coffee maker. Aha, there it is in the corner. "This isn't just about—" Nathan? Logan? "--him any more. He's the head of an office… but that office has a body, too, and the state depends on both. Up to this point, I've worked to prevent doubt from gumming up the works…" He trails off, letting his shoulders slump. "Just keep me as informed as you can. The more information, the more I can do to keep the damage contained."
—-
Something snapped in Heidi when she was in that accident. Before she's even aware of what she's doing, she's got George by the collar, hand twisting his shirt to the point where it would be almost strangling, if she's able. Her eyes show no feral quality, though. Heidi is excruciatingly calm, and as seconds tick by, her grip loosens. One might think that she's the one acting out of character, not Nathan, but there's a reason for this - and at least her first instinct wasn't to reach for the gun. "That is not damage. That is my husband. Keep that in mind."
—-
Caught off guard, George reaches up as if to pry Heidi's hands away, but ends up letting her do so of her own volition. "I'm not calling him a resource." He always did hate that sort of dehumanization. "And I'm not talking about keeping him contained— well, I am, but… I have to stop him from doing bad things, but still keep him safe. And I have to keep his staff off balance, but not so badly that they fall apart. Just tell Mr. Gomez to hurry the hell up, all right?" Leaving the coffee untouched, he walks toward the door, glancing back just once to see if there's anything else to be heaped on.
—-
Hurry the hell up. Well… She's said everything she needs to for now. She can only hope that the trust she placed in this guy doesn't turn out to be a bad idea. She knows it will be… Heidi just has this sinking feeling that this is all going to go very wrong, very fast, and that the end result is going to be exactly the opposite of what she wants. She lets George leave if he's so inclined, crossing her arms, watching him as he goes so she can lock the door when he's finally gone.
—-
As the elevator descends, George leans heavily against the wall again, this time with a fresh set of reasons. Heading for the nearest 24-hour breakfast joint he can find, he takes out a notepad and starts scrawling down names and facts. He's got some trouble to plan out.
