2007-12-01: The Only One


Mara_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Mara subjects Peter to a tough line of questioning.

Date It Happened: December 1, 2007

The Only One

Mara's Apartment

Every other day check ups. Peter's been consistent with them since he promised, though they're never exactly at the same time of day. Short questions just checking how she's doing and then hanging up to go about his day. This time it went different. She asked him to meet her at the apartment— teleportation was cleared as okay. It isn't even long after the phone call ends when he appears near the front door of her apartment, just inside. The time was taken to put shoes and coat on, in case he needs to walk back. "Mara?" he calls out once he opens his eyes after popping in.

"Just a sec!" Mara calls from the bedroom. She emerges a moment later, tugging an Oxford sweatshirt on over a plain white tank top, pulling the hem down over bleached white jeans. "I didn't expect you this quickly." She smiles with a saccharine sort of sweetness. "You're looking well."

"Sorry, you said teleporting was okay…" Peter apologizes, glancing toward the door as if wondering if he should have teleported just outside instead. Knocked first. "Yeah, I'm okay. You're looking a little more healthy than the last time I saw you," he replies, returning the smile, with a hint of a lopsided grin, without the same exact tones. "What did you need to see me about?"

Mara doesn't stop a companionable distance away from Peter. No, she backs him right up against the wall and grabs a handful of his shirt in each fist. The smile's still there. "How come you're healthy and your brother's still sick?"

They're just about the same height, so when Peter gets backed up against the wall, he's looking at just the same level as her eyes, even as he tries to lean back. The distance makes it difficult to even look down at her fists, but his hands go up to touch her wrists. "The cure isn't ready yet— but Cass is working on it. It shouldn't be much longer." He's been saying that for over a month now, though. This time it has more truth. His calls to Bat Country have been far more positive than a month ago.

"Someone cured you, Peter. You pick up abilities like I pick up bad habits." The smile is gone now and Mara actually shoves him against the wall, though not too hard. "Why haven't you healed him? He could die, Peter! And if you can't do it, why haven't you made whoever healed you do it for him?"

"Mara, he's not the only one sick," Peter insists, trying to pull her fists away from him. Without the use of abilities, she's physically on par with him, strength wise, so it doesn't quite happen how he might like it to. "Don't you think I tried to use the ability that fixed me? I can barely even sense the virus, much less fix it. It was hard for the woman who fixed me, and she's had the power a lot longer than I have."

"Make her try harder. He's your brother. It shouldn't matter to you if other people are sick." She pauses and then thinks better of her words. "You should worry about him first. He's your family. And he's scared of this future you've warned us about. He could use something going right for him." Finally, Mara releases the man to back a few steps away and bring her arm up so she can cough into the crook of her elbow.

"Do you think I wanted to be the only one cured? I caused this whole thing. It's my fault. I would have rather they cured Nathan, or Elena, or any of them instead of me." Peter argues, looking guilty at her words, before he adds on. "I don't even know how to contact the woman who healed me, much less ask her to heal my brother," he says softly, though he knows of one way to find her, but he's not about to abuse that ability even for this. "Cass says the cure will be ready soon and…" He trails off, frowning at her as his hands drop away from his body. "Mara. Are you sick?" He just realized she coughed into her elbow.

"I'm fine," Mara insists harshly before a couple of coughs turns into a fit. "It's just a tickle," she croaks. "I'll be fine. Just need water." She hurries off toward the kitchen, eyes watering from her bout. "You know how to find her. When you acquired Molly Walker's ability, you cursed yourself with that knowledge. If you find her, I will talk to her. I can convince her." A glass of water is poured and the woman downs half of it before audibly clearing her throat to try and alleviate another impending cough. It's a dry cough. The kind of cough a person has a couple of days before they realise they're sick.

There's a quiet moment when he's looking at her, shaking his head at the mention of Molly's ability being used like this. Only reason he'd use it to look for her in particular would be in a life or death situation, and as far as he knows… Peter is thinking about the woman, though not to find her. Instead he's squinting in an attempt to remember how he felt, trying to see what she might have. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Shaking his head, he says, "I can't do that, Mara." There is a pause, though, before he asks, "Did you see something? Something that would mean the cure doesn't get to him in time?"

"Would you believe me if I said so?" Mara looks down at the floor, her glass held carefully in her pale, trembling hands. "He sounds like hell. He looks like hell. He was burning up. It doesn't take a clairsentient to see that he's dangerously unwell, Peter." She sniffles and presses the back of one hand against her nose. "You have to do something, Peter. You're the only one I know who can."

The more she shakes, the more Peter tries to look at her, tries to see through her if he can— to find whatever ails her. Nothing. Just her. A worried her, shaking and sniffling and rubbing her nose. He takes in a slow breath. He'll keep doing this. If she's really got a regular cold… "I'm worried about him too, Mara. Believe me. There's… a lot of people I care about who are sick with this. And this is Nathan. I already…" he looks down. He can't finish by saying that he already watched him die once. Thanks to Jack's tape.

Mara's eyes snap up, though her head does not, giving her an unintentionally furious look beneath the dark arch of her brows. "Then do something. Don't just talk about how you wish you could. Do it."

Perhaps it's her yelling at him, but Peter actually has to look away, frustration overtaking him for a moment. "I don't know if I can, Mara," he finally stresses back at her. "It took me months to figure out how to use your ability. If I mess up on this I might end up making them faster, or stronger. And that could kill him."

"Find that woman," Mara demands. "Find her, so I can make her fix him." Hazel-green eyes shut tightly as a rasping sob slips past her lips. "He can't die, Peter! You have to do something!"

"He won't die," Peter says, protesting such a declaration as he glances over at her and— there. Finally. His eyes are glowing, just a glow that lights them up. Only he doesn't see anything. No virus. There's a slow breath. "I'll try to fix him," he says, blinking his eyes until the light behind them goes out. "If it doesn't work, I'll try to find the woman who fixed me."

"Holy sh—" Mara wipes at eyes, staring in shock at the display. "Wha' was tha'?" She sets down her glass and approaches slowly, like one wary of an animal. "Tha's a new trick."

"I was trying to… I wanted to make sure you didn't have the virus. I've seen it a couple times, I could recognize it from a common cold," Peter says, rubbing his hand over his face. "If it was just a common cold, I was going to try and fix it. Practice. But… you're not sick. You're just upset." And that… he shakes his head. "I understand that you're upset. He's not going to die. I won't let him."

Mara smirks faintly. "Well then. You've go' practice usin' the ability. I thought maybe if you thought I was sick, too, you'd be more inclined to help him." Even she isn't sure she follows her own logic, but it's just how she operates. "I'm scared for him. Please, help him. Save him."

"You could have just asked me to try again," Peter says, closing his eyes, forehead tensing. If she doesn't speak up fast, he's going to disappear— right to the Petrelli Mansion. Hopefully Nathan didn't choose to go out today.

"Go," Mara urges. "Tell him I'm well." She crosses her arms and watches Peter's disappearing act.

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