2010-01-16: The River Cocytus



Guest Appearances: Peter's Unconscious Body

Date: January 16th, 2010


Lena and Monica discover an unresponsive Peter.

"The River Cocytus"

Petrelli Safehouse, Staten Island, New York City

It's late, on one of those terrifically cold January nights where light and color seem sharp enough to cut. There was a sedate drive back from Boston, mostly due to Jade's tendency to drive like a gramma (as Lena put it) and in the driveway of the Petrelli Safehouse, the girls have parted ways— Jade to take advantage of their having a car, heading off to do whatever it is Jades do when they have transportation, and Lena to trudge back into the house. It wasn't a bad meeting, per se. But something about it has dampened her mood.

Her keys rattle in the front door; it's pushed open, closed and relocked all in short order. The brunette lingers in that entryway, kicking off boots, dropping jacket in the closet (neglecting the hanger) and dropping the keys on the hall table. Her hair's mussed, her cheeks bright from the chill outside.

"Hey, anyone home?"

Monica's been having a nap herself, while Lena's been away. The shopping excursion completed, she's got clothes that fit her now, and she watched movies till she was getting a headache. The sound of Lena's entry stirs her, and she blinks a couple of times and yawns, before sitting up, and running a hand through her hair. In sleeping attire of t-shirt and shorts, she comes out of the bedroom. "I'm here." she yawns a bit.

Lena head-tilts as one voice answers, eyes cutting up towards the second story. "Oh, hey. Sorry, did I wake you up?" The apology would be ever so much more effective if she sounded sincere. But there's a distracted air to the young woman, heard there in her voice, and seen when she absently tugs her opera gloves up over her elbows. "Jade said she might bring pizza back, when she gets home. If you want. You seen Pete? I gotta talk to him." Poor Pete, kicked out of two consecutive bedrooms by his adoptions. A faint smile tugs at Lena's lips while she looks up at Monica.

Monica shakes her head. "S'okay, I was just napping. I shouldn't be sleeping middle of the day anyway. Pizza sounds good though. Haven't seen Peter…if he came in he must have done it while I was sleeping." Entirely possible.

"Just napping, huh? It's late, Monica, you slept longer than you think. You gotta take a break from those movies every now and again, gonna give yourself nosebleeds if you keep working till you pass out." Lena's smile shades briefly into a full-fledged grin; the admonition is a friendly one. If Monica napped so long, that makes it entirely possible Peter did come in while Monica was sleeping, which means…the couch! Deductive reasoning: a definite pick me up. Somewhat cheered, the young woman ducks her head and ventures deeper into the house.

And there is the man himself, on the couch as predicted, one arm over his stomach and the other trailing on the floor. Sleeping, to all appearances. Resting…it isn't something Lena wants to intentionally ruin for the man. But something about the way he's laying there, so completely still, tickles a memory. She's been around a lot of unconscious people. Hazard of the job.

Frowning, she slowly approaches the couch to give Peter's shoulder a shake. A gentle one. "Pete…Pete? Hey…" Pause. "Monica?"

Monica wanders in when called. "Yeah?" She sees Peter on the couch, which doesn't really surprise her; with a house full of girls it's no surprise that he'd be sleeping there. She looks to Lena and says "You're gonna wake him up." Her voice is pitched quiet, like she's trying not to wake up Peter. Little does she know.

"Yeah, that's the idea!" When another nudge of the man's shoulder earns no response, other than the flop of his head rolling from one side of the cushion to the other, Lena's frown deepens. She settles on the edge of the couch and switches to a two-handed shake this time, one hand on each of his shoulders. "He's not waking up…Pete! Hey, Pete?"

Again, no response.

Lena sits back and looks wide-eyed at Monica. "You sure you didn't hear him come in? Nothing?" As she asks the questions, she fumbles at the hem of the glove on her right hand, tugging clumsily from her arm.

Monica walks over closer when it becomes more obvious that Peter's just plain not waking up. She moves up to him, and then leans in, checking Peter's pulse. One of the things she picked up when she picked up CPR. "He's breathing, his heart's beatin', but real slow. You didn't dope him up accidentally, did you?" It's her first assumption, given that she knows Lena can tranquilize people.

It's a natural assumption. Lena isn't inclined to be reasonable about such things, however. "What the hell, I haven't even been here." Monica earns herself a fierce frown before she closes her green eyes and places her hand over Peter's forehead, concentrating in an attempt to feel for any foreign substances in his blood. Nothing. Nothing's there, and she feels the first tickle of real fear. "He hasn't taken anything…he's clean."

Monica looks worried. "We better call 911. He needs to be in a hospital if we can't wake him up." She starts looking around for the telephone to do just that.

911. That means an ambulance, police, maybe even firemen. All of those people in this place, this safe place, looking to help…and looking around. Lena's heart turns over slowly as she anxiously studies Peter's face. Her gloved hand gives his shoulder one last ineffective shake. No response.

"Yeah…yeah, call 911. Tell them…make sure you remember…his name's Ethan Campbell now. Ethan. Then you better hide, Monica."

Monica looks to Lena. "They're lookin' for you too, ain't they?" But she's picking up the phone even as she asks it, and starting to dial. "Yeah, we've got an unconscious guy here!" She rattles off the address. "His name's Ethan Campbell. We came downstairs and he was unconscious on the couch. No, you don't need my name. Just get here as fast as you can!!"

"I got papers. Different hair, different eyes…different clothes, I'll change. I don't look like I did. You just escaped days ago, no name, no papers, no reason for being here." It isn't the first time she's had to deal with cops and medics showing up for an 'overdose'. With the phonecall made, Lena has slid into action mode. The words are rattled off as she gently sets Peter's trailing arm over his chest and then stands up. "Grab your jacket. Go out the back, the neighbors won't see, and don't come back till the lights are gone."

Monica nods. She grabs her new jacket and hangs up. "I'll go hide. Flash the kitchen light twice when it's safe for me to come back." And with that, she's off into the night, to go find a place to settle in and hide while the authorities show.

So much to do. Lena nods a terse agreement to Monica's request before taking off for the room she shares with Jade. There she'll change into something less disreputable, with a detour into Peter's room to take his cellphone and slip it into her pocket. After that…

After that, the only thing to do is to sit beside him, and wait.

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