Starring:
Summary: A joyous reunion between friends leads to recaps, discussion of foolhardy ideas, and submerged emotions being stirred to the surface.
Date It Happened: July 8, 2008
Strange and Tender
The Deveaux Building - The Batcave
It's rare that Kory actually sleeps. So rare, in fact, that she clearly is asleep without intending to be at the moment. She's draped bonelessly over one of her superfluffy comfy chairs, headphones in her ears, and PDA forgotten in her lap. Her hair, long since back to its natural brown, is dangling in her face, and her breathing is slow and easy. Her cellphone is on the floor, apparently having been placed there before Morpheus sneak-attacked her.
The fact that she's asleep here, in her living room, innocent and unaware, is telling. It's just all the emotion. Grief and shock, guilt, love, determination, self-pity. Fear. Rage. Eventually the body and spirit simply need time — down time — to process it…to give even a mind like hers a break.
Getting into the building hadn't been too difficult, though Peter's on edge the closer he gets to the rooftop on his way up. Hands in his pockets, he glances up almost as if he can see through the floors above and up onto that roof where so much of importance happened. Does Kory know she lives in the building that he murdered someone on?
The door number recalled from a piece of instruction given upon request, he walks down the hall. Hair in his face, he's shaved, but hasn't bothered to cut so much as trim his hair. The bangs fall into his eyes. On his face is no scar, nothing to indicate the years of battle that his other self has been going through. There's a quiet look in his eyes, but not shattered.
And he looks well-rested, as opposed to looking like he's forcing himself to stay awake all the time. A hand comes up to knock on the door, a firm knock. He still has manners. The knocking will continue every so often, until someone answers.
Kory blinks, startled by the knocking. Startled by the fact that she was actually asleep. And surprised. "What the hell," she murmurs to herself, shaking off the muzziness that comes from being abruptly wakened. She picks up her techtoys and sets them in their chargers, stretching every couple steps like a cat, and cracking neck and shoulders. "Just …a…minute," she calls around a yawn, finally getting to the door.
Peter can hear the metallic syncopation of practiced hands opening seven locks in sequence. And then the door opens, Kory tousled and rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Hi, Sophie," she says, turning and stepping away from the door. "C'mon in." She hasn't even looked to see who it is yet, which speaks volumes for how out of sorts the would-be Muse is. She isn't properly conscious enough for her personal paranoia to assert itself; she just presumes it's her old friend. She's right; but not like she thinks she is.
"Um— I know I have shapeshifting, but I don't think I look like a Sophie right now?" Peter says, not seeming to remember the girl he only really met a handful of times before he got locked up. She'd not had much a chance to engrain her name and face and ability into his memory— though fitting enough he'll likely figure it out soon. She's a memory person.
Tired, not quite aware, he still steps forward and says in a soft tone, "Hi?" The voice sounds different than the one she'd gotten used to hearing in person. Less hoarse, younger— but not quite as young as the little boy she'd often hold when she dreamwalked to him.
Kory was on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, expecting Sophie to follow her. But that voice. That cadence. That cheerful voice. She turns around and stares, blinking. "…"
It's a minute before she can collect herself to speak. "Oh, my God. Peter. Peter! You're back!" At which point she bursts into tears because really, what else can she do under the circumstances? The dreamwalker gets a dream coming true. Peter. Alive. Whole. Healthy.
Not perfectly healthy. There's hints of malnurishment, but it looks like he kept himself worked out in prison, at least. Must not have been much to do after a while. Muscles are a little more pronounced under his clothes than she might recall. Hair longer. A little stubble on his cheeks, neck and chin. The vaguely haunted look fades (though in comparison to the way his future self looked, he might as well be smiling). Then suddenly… Peter really is smiling. A touch on one side of his mouth, at least… until she starts crying.
That's when he moves further inside, closing the door behind him and getting closer. Hands go up as if to reach out for her, "Hey, don't cry— I'm okay. I'm out now— Mom told me where you moved to."
"No, no, no, I'm crying happy," Kory manages, wiping at her eyes as he closes the door. When he reaches for her, well, that's just it. She closes the distance in a quick motion of bare footsteps and positively flings herself into his embrace. "I'm just so …oh, God, I'm …I'm so glad to see you, Peter." She hangs on tight, like she's afraid she's dreaming herself, and making sure he's solid is the only way to make sure he won't vanish in a puff of smoke from beside her. "I…I really missed you."
Not the first time she's hugged him, but it's the first time in quite some time. At least that he recalls. Dreams may not count as much as physical. Peter's eyes slide shut and he takes in a slow breath. "I missed you too. I— I missed everyone. I'm sorry I got myself taken." Blaming himself for it seems to be his MO. "How are you doing? I— I don't know a lot of what's been going on, but I know some. I only really got one visitor from outside while I was in there…" His niece.
"Don't blame yourself," Kory says, finally drawing away enough to look at his face. Her fingers stroke at his cheeks, as if she'd suddenly been stricken blind and had to learn it all over again. If he allows, she'll let her touch wander across where she knows a scar may lie in the future. "It had to be done." She shakes her head, unwilling to hear any more protest or Peter blaming himself for it. "Two of you walking around in one timeline — could've annihilated you both." She chose the word annihilated purposefully — warm, tear-brightened eyes finding his. "Then the world would've lost you now and in the future. The world can't lose you, Peter. Your friends can't. You matter too much to us."
She still sticks close to him, and reminds him gently, "I visited too, when I could. I had to be careful — your mother, she can hijack me when I'm dreamwalking. After that…I couldn't visit as much. I'm so sorry."
"Maybe he— Maybe I wouldn't've had to come back at all if I hadn't been locked up," Peter can't help but speculate, even if she's telling him how much he matters. It's the argument he can make, but he doesn't carry it much further than that at the moment because… "I learned she was the one I got prophetic dreams from after I got locked up— I— I think I know when you did visit me. Some nights I slept a lot better than others. But… They had me prtetty drugged up, so I don't remember a lot of things. I wasn't even sure what day of the week it was— I can't believe it's July." While she stays close, so does he, keeping a hand on her arm, though his arms do move away from the hug.
Kory shakes her head in the negative the moment Peter tries to get back to blaming himself. She simply won't — can't hear of it. "No. No, don't say that. That isn't how it happened. It isn't you at all. It's Pinehearst." They're the bad guys, end of story. "I understand. I'm sorry I couldn't visit as much as I wanted to. There's so much to catch you up to speed on. And everybody's going to be so glad to see you." Probably not as glad as Kory is, but she lets him drift away from the embrace. As long as he's still standing here — real and solid and alive.
"All right— what matters is making sure that we stop Pinehearst before things get worse, right?" Peter says, smiling a bit as he keeps the hand on her arm, even if he could drift further away. Still there. Still real. Still solid. Heart beating, chest moving with breath. He's alive and there. "I hope so— I'm sure not everyone will be happy to see me…" For a moment his eyes drift upwards, toward the ceiling. There's some mistakes he made… "I had some people helping me in Pinehearst— Do you know if they're okay?"
Kory is perfectly content with the touch on the arm. The Peter who's gone now, he was so distant. Distant. And she knows why, now. Her mind was trying to tuck that information away, safe from her conscious thought, but seeing this Peter brings it trickling back. "Niki is safe," she says, eyes fluttering as the memory flits across her mind's eye. "Cass, they got Cass. But Niki has a plan to go get her. Rescue her. They moved her to a mental hospital in California. Micah's set up secure internet for us." Gibraltar, Peter. She puts a hand to her head. "Come on in the living room, you must have so many questions. Do you need anything?" I need you to succeed. She keeps glancing back at him. More muscular, thinner, that faint smile at the corner of those lips. Her thoughts won't slow down enough to hold one for more than a second.
"An actual meal would be nice," Peter says as he moves to follow after her so she doesn't get too far away. Distance can sometimes be his thing, too, but maybe after spending months kept apart from everyone he loved and cared about… distance isn't something he wants. He's practically hovering (with his feet on the ground) in her personal bubble. "They fed me where I was, of course, but it had usually been sitting somewhere for a while before I got it— and whoever cooked wasn't very good. I had pizza last night."
"Food?" Kory lights up a briliant smile. "Food you want, food you get." She changes direction, angling for the kitchen now, eagerly catching up Peter's hand. "I've got three or four things I can warm up in the oven for you…" Not the microwave. The oven. It may take longer, but it will taste better. "Or if you have a favourite you want me to whip up, I'm sure I could do that too." The kitchen is well stocked. A girl who never sleeps has lot of time for stress cooking. "Say the word, and you've got it." She drifts close to him again, fingers stopping short of stroking the faint hollows in his cheeks.
"Do you have anything that doesn't include meat?" Peter asks, looking a little concerned for a moment. At least the Company had that down in their files, but he's not sure his dreamwalking friend knew that he doesn't like eating animals. Then again— there may have been a dream where she found him crying with a rifle nearby, all upset cause his brother had shot the deer. A memory as well as a dream. "I like pastas," he adds in, helpfully.
"Oh, that's perfect," Kory beams. "I have a spinach, broccoli, and eggplant lasagne handy," she tells him. "Fresh tomatoes too. I got to the Farmer's Market early." Way early. Like while they were still setting up. She had to wait for them before she got to pick her ingredients. "I just made it earlier this afternoon." She glances one more time at Peter, and heads for the refrigterator. "Fresh grape juice, too." No alcohol in Kory's house. Dreamwalker inebriated is an idea she has already tried and written off.
"Sounds delicious. I'll have to cook for you sometime in return," Peter says with a smile, letting his hand fall away from her finally. Cass. Niki… so much going on. Cass is getting rescued… "Do you think Niki's going to need my help with Cass? I— it took a little while but my powers are more or less back now. I might be able to help them if you think they'd need it." There's insecurity in his voice, as if he's unsure exactly how much help he'd be, or perhaps he feels ashamed about not having been there to stop it.
"Anytime you like," is Kory's warm-voiced answer. The casserole dish is pulled from the fridge and placed atop the stove until the oven warms. "Considering her idea of a plan is 'get on a plane and work from there' — she might need some help, yes." She moves over to him, as she hears the uncertain insecurity in his voice. "Peter. Please stop blaming yourself. Pinehearst is responsible. Not you. And you …did everything you could to stop it." That memory flitters through her mind again, the scarred face superimposing on the unblemished one. Kory's own desperate plea in the future — // I need you to succeed//. "Or undo it. It's all jumbled up in my head, but the important thing is you're back now. And we can work together to prevent the future your other self came to warn us off from."
"She took a plane?" Peter exclaims in surprise, obviously thinking the idea foolhardy. And possibly even thinking it's dumb. "Did they at least change their identities to do that? I wish they would've waited, I can still teleport." He says, voice a little rumbly. Wishes he could've been there, obviously, disappointed that he wasn't. Guilty too. "Yeah— I guess that's the important part. I'm back." There's a hesitation as he moves in closer again, hovering at a short distance, sticking his hands into his pockets and looking down and away. "So what was I like? I never got to meet a future version of myself… The future I saw I was… I wasn't really around."
Kory gestures him to the table to make himself comfortable. Her expression is sort of grimly satisfied; Kory also thought that Niki's idea was well, foolhardy and dumb are a bit too mild turns of phrase for what Kory thought. "I don't know," Kory says, shrugging helplessly. "I tried to talk her out of it. But …she didn't feel like waiting, I think. I mean, she didn't even think of Micah or Cam. Craziness, Peter!" A flip-flail of her hands. And now she looks guilty because Peter looks guilty. "You can teleport. Maybe you can help them?"
She stops, and smiles sadly at his question. "He…he was you. Only …after a lot of pain, I think. He had a scar. But that was a small one to the ones he had on the inside. But underneath it all, if you worked very hard to draw him out — you were still in there, under all the tough."
It takes a few moments before Peter sits down at the table, facing her and listening more or less. "I'm surprised she didn't ask… another teleporter." Charlotte, for example. But he's not sure if the woman would remain loyal to them. She seemed to buy into Pinehearsts stories— and if Pinehearst caught on to her, she might have been gotten rid of, for all he knows. "I can try to help them, but I'm not really sure how I'd pinpoint it well enough to do that… It's not as easy as you might think it is. I ended up in Australia one time— at least I think it was Australia. There was a kangaroo." That usually means Australia, right?
"I'm glad to hear that… when I went to the future— I met a lot of people that time. It was pretty much the same. A lot of pain and they'd withdrawn into themselves. But the people I knew were still there under all that."
"I'm afraid we haven't seen Charlotte in ages," Kory says. "And she's totally for Pinehearst at any rate. Niki said she tried to convince Charlotte otherwise, and it was a lost cause. I suggested Mrs. Ivanov, but I think Niki hared off before I could." So yeah…it is entirely possible Charlotte sleeps with the fishes. Sad. She liked the girl, Kory did. And Kory owed her, a lot. "You can teleport across the planet?" Kory breathes, astonished. "That's some power level." She gives a whistle, impressed, then lifts one shoulder in a slight, unpleasant shrug before turning to speak on Peter's other question.
"I …I admit I didn't much like him at first. It took a while before I could see he really was you underneath. All the way you. Right down to the heart. He …he died…" Kory gasps, and gulps, fighting back the urge to weep. But of all people, Peter needs and deserves to know. "Saving me. He saved my life. And without his abilities. Without thinking." The tears trickle free nonetheless.
The fact that Charlotte's missing makes him worried, but there's a small nod— he never did figure out how her ability worked. It would've been useful in this situation, he could have just teleported right to her. Teleport across the planet, through time— his abilities can be fairly impressive. Especially that one. Hiro's pretty powerful.
But there are bigger things for Peter to worry about. Like how does someone react when they find out they died?
"What?" That starts it off, disbelief or just shock, all in one word. "Mom didn't say that he— I…" It takes him a moment before he stands up, moving closer to her and reaching up with his hands to wipe a thumb at her tears. "Hey— hey it's… you're safe and that's what… what matters. If he was… If it were me… That's how I'd want to go." In some ways at least he knows it'd been better than the way the future him before had died.
Kory claps her hands over her mouth. It just jumped out of her throat, spilled from her lips, unbidden. Peter isn't the only one who suffers guilt, is the thing, here. She closes her eyes as he thumbs away her tears. "I …we'd had such a fun night. I wanted to …to remind him," she whispers, lips quivering, "…what he was saving. What you were saving. And then it all happened so fast." Kory opens her eyes, but even bright with tears of grief and guilt shining in them, she isn't seeing this moment, this Peter.
At least, not entirely. Her focus is elsewhere; elsewhen. Here in her Batcave — her future Sanctum Somnius — and in that filthy alley where he bled out his life in her arms. She's seeing the future and the past. She never got the chance to say goodbye. "Don't go like that. I know you'll fix it so you don't have to. I have always believed in you." In her mind's eye they're bleeding together, the memories, the timelines, without Sophie to keep them properly separated in the whirl of Kory's thoughts. "I always will. That was his promise to me. Your promise."
"I know you believe in me— it was because of you that…" Peter glances up toward the ceiling. If he'd ever absorbed x-ray vision, he'd probably be looking all the way up to the roof. That's what he's thinking of. "When I had blood on my hands, you still believed in me. I always needed that— I guess I still need it in the future." He'll always need it, it sounds like. "We will fix it, all of us. We'll make things different. We'll make sure that… that what happened will…" She doesn't want him to die like that again. The hands near her face reach up, touch her hair, and then drop away. "Things'll be different." In many ways, they probably already are.
"They have to be, Peter," Kory whispers, a plea in her face, her tone. "From all he told me, the future the other Peter came from wasn't one worth living in. He said everybody only …only existed. We lost our lives but we kept going." She glances up, wondering what he possibly could be looking at on her ceiling, but it passes. "You carry such a heavy burden. If my belief gives you the strength to hold you up, it is yours. Always. Gibraltar, Peter." I swear. That's her promise. And past, present and future mingle in her heart. She meant only to kiss him on the cheek — because that's how you seal a promise. With a kiss. But somehow the final kiss bestowed on Kory by the spirit departing and the memory given guides her lips to Peter's in the here and now — feelings she's quietly kept to herself stirred to the surface by chronal disruption and emotion.
Gibraltar. The words don't tug of a memory for him, but her promise makes him smile. Peter's still smiling as she moves in close, perhaps expecting the kiss to go to his cheek, so he doesn't move away or flinch. The kiss doesn't land on his cheek as it normally would, and instead—
He blinks in surprise, the hands that he just dropped from her hair touching her waist before he steps back a little. The emotion on his face, by itself, doesn't come off as outwardly negative. There's surprise and the step back could be viewed as rejection, but also a working in his mind. Why did she kiss him? He knows himself pretty well, he knows what happened when he travelled to the future. That's when he first confessed all of his feelings for Elena. Being pulled apart from everything that he knows… And if the world was horrible, he knows he would want something, someone to hold onto. A rock of his own…
"Were you and I— were we together… in the future?"
Kory blinks, and stumbles back herself, catching herself on the edge of the table with a jarring bump. "I… Peter…" she manages, voice lowered to a husky whisper. The urge to kiss him again is practically a wave, trying to drown her. No, no. That's the future. That's the future. "I…no." She shakes her head, slowly, part in confirmation to Peter and part to try to clear her head from the superimposing memories. "We weren't. We had our missions. We didn't live. We existed. It was just…" She sighs, and sinks down into one of her kitchen chairs, hand over her heart. "I think it might have…but …but we were our missions first. People last."
And in the time when they don't have the same hard missions, when they could be people… Peter takes in a slow breath as he moves away. The future him might have vanished, or at least headed for the door, but he just sits at the table, keeping that much between them. When there's people who aren't there between them as well. "It's okay," he says after a few quiet moments. "I remember how it felt to see you again after you nearly died on me… It was pretty overwhelming then too." Overwhelming. He didn't try to kiss her, but he did see her right in front of her boyfriend and another person.
Kory blinks away tears, wiping self-consciously at her eyes. "I …" She pauses. "Sorry isn't exactly the right thing to say, except because we're …" Both spoken for. "But the truth is, you inspire me as much as you tell me I inspire you. And you're about the only person in the world who truly gets me." She's never met another dreamwalker. And Peter, through his power, his natural empathy, became a dreamwalker. He understands the strange mingling of loneliness and exultation that the lack of need to sleep can bring because he got to know her, care about her, and pick up her ability. "I …I didn't have any idea how much that meant to me until you were gone. And gone again."
"In some ways, that's the best thing about this ability," Peter says quietly, even smiling faintly as he looks at her. The eyes don't stay on her face long, cause they keep gravitating toward her mouth, which is not a good place for him to be looking at right now. They are both spoken for… "It let's me experience what other people go through so that— they're not alone." The true definition of empathy, really. Taking on the burdens of others, experiencing it with them— he just does it through their abilities and not just their emotions.
Kory bites her lower lip and gets up to tuck the lasagne into the oven, now that it's warmed up enough. "And you don't know …I can't even try to explain what that's like. Finally finding someone who knows what living this ability is like. Somebody I don't have to pretend around." Sure, she doesn't have to pretend around Sophie or Randall, but it isn't the same thing. Lee, she does have to pretend around, even though he knows. "When you're gone, it's like there's a hollow spot." She clutches the potholder mitts so as not to illustrate where that hollow spot is — though it's obvious, really, because that's Kory. Heart. On her sleeve. And written all over her face.
"In that case… I really do have to apologize for being gone as long as I was," Peter says, though he looks as if he's smiling, just a tiny bit. Not only did she lose him once when he got locked up, but she lost him again— one of him. He died right there with her. "But it's nice knowing that people need me around as much as I need them. You don't— I'm here. You don't have to worry about that hollow spot anymore."
Kory gives Peter a shaky smile in return. "I'll worry until we're sure Pinehearst is dead and gone," and just like that, the smile is gone. Because that's their mission. That's what will prevent him becoming the Peter she's already lost once. Twice. More than that? "Whatever that takes." She shrugs, though. "But tonight, we celebrate you being back. So no shop talk unless you really want to."
Pinehearst. Dead and gone. Peter takes in a slow breath, then nods. The hint of a smile may have faded, but at least he's nodding. Pinehearst is his father, after all. No matter what the man did to him— it's still his father. Whatever it takes? Celebration sounds like a better option, "Yeah— let's eat and maybe we can even sit down and watch a movie. Anything good come out while I was locked up?"
"A few DVDs have come out, yeah," Kory says, with her usual enthusiasm. She's relieved he chose celebration, too. A little downtime is still needed. Clearly she hasn't processed as completely as she wanted to think. "C'mon. I can show you what I've got while the lasagne heats up." She offers him her hand. It's not shaking. The strange, tender moment has passed. For now, anyway.
Even if the hand isn't shaking, Peter wraps his fingers around as if he might warm her hand, or steady it. The tender moment may have passed, but that doesn't mean it's disappeared. Or been forgotten.