2008-01-23: Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Starring:

Elle_icon.gif Gabriel_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: As per his mother's advice, Peter seeks out Gabriel for assistance with the ability that he's struggling with. They end up going to Maine as well for assistance in another problem.

Date It Happened: January 23rd, 2008

Two Sides Of The Same Coin


Lucky Seven Motel

Ever since his last argument with Elle, and his hasty departure out of anger, Gabriel has been regretting his decision to leave like he did. He's had plenty of time to think about it the past two days— she was only defending Peter and what's happening to him. Gabriel knows better than any what dealing with this is like. Still, he was only trying to protect Elle when he wouldn't tell Peter where she was, but there's nothing he can do about it now.

Having had resort to using an empty motel room at a rather seedy place, the past two days have been spent getting somewhat functional. Once he managed to find new clothes and get cleaned up, he made a trip back to the watchshop to salvage whatever he could that was left. It's with the money he managed to make off that that he went shopping, and he's just arriving back at the motel, even though he isn't visible to anyone who would happen to be looking.

Checking the room to make sure it's not in use, and taking a look around to make sure he's not being watched, he easily forces the door open with telekinesis, closing it once he gets inside. Setting the bag he's carrying down on the table, he sits down on the bed, grabbing the phonebook off of the nearby stand. He flips through it, deciding it's finally time to do what he's been avoiding.

The room shouldn't have anyone else in it except him, right? As he flips a page of the phone book, a sudden shift in the air soldifies into someone else. It's a rather familiar thing these past months. Peter appears in the corner of the room, opening his eyes and looking around the room. "Gabriel." He's not shaved in a while, from the stubble on his face, nor is he as carefully put together as normal. He has a coat on. The good news is, he doesn't look like he's about to lash out, either.

As soon as the shift in air happens, Gabriel is on his feet, the phonebook dropping out of his hand on the floor. He turns towards Peter, putting one foot back, preparing for an attack. He isn't sure why Peter is here, and while he was looking his address up in the phonebook just now to see if by SOME sort of good luck he would find him there, he didn't expect the man to show up in the hotel room like this. It's much too familiar. When he doesn't attack, however, Gabriel eases a bit, watching Peter carefully. "Peter."

No attack comes. Peter's eyes shift down to the floor of the crummy hotel, glancing around once before he focuses his eyes on the other man. "I'm sorry," he says softly, visibly wincing. "I— I went back to the watch shop to…" He doesn't finish, taking a slow breath. "I need your help. You're the… you're the only one who really knows what's happening to me. What I'm going through. I can't keep— I need to find a way to control this if I'm going to be able to help anyone right now. If I'm going to be able to help my brother."

Even as Peter's beginning to apologize, Gabriel is already shaking his head. He lets the other man finish speaking, and he responds as soon as Peter seems finished. "We both have things to apologize for, Peter," he says, leaning down to pick up the phonebook and place it back on the table. He turns to the table, pulling two bottles of water out of the bag, tossing one on the bed in Peter's directon.

"I'm sorry, too— for not.. believing in you. It's difficult, what you're going through. At the shop— the way you were.. when you asked about Elle… she.." He untwists the cap to his bottle of water, taking a sip before continuing. "She came to get me. Pulled me off of the pipe… she defended you. Told me that you would never hurt her. We argued, it didn't— it didn't go well, but I've thought about it—" Gabriel pauses, going over what happened, and there's a shake of his head. "She's on her way back to Maine," he continues, his voice carrying a definite 'anyways' quality to it. He changes the subject, his apology out of the way, and looks back to Peter, eyebrows raising a little bit. "What's wrong with your brother?"

"No, you didn't have to believe me. I was upset— it was out of line," Peter's eyes stay lowered for a moment, a slow breath taken in. "I shouldn't have… done what I did." And he knows exactly what he was doing now that he thinks back on it, and it was certainly the wrong thing to do. He can't help anyone, Elena or his brother, if he tries to make someone kill him. Or if he turns himself in for confinement.

"I'm sorry the two of you argued… I— maybe I can find her again, I'm going to need her help too. With Elena— my girlfriend. The Company has her." Which gives him two problems to take care of all at once. He moves a little closer, but doesn't sit down, his eyes raising to meet those of the other man who suffers from the same infliction. "My brother… the future I told you about. Where you— where you were still Sylar." And him at the same time. "In that future something… happened to my brother. Something bad. And— it's happening here. I didn't notice that it was… I have to… to get better so I can help him. Without worrying about hurting him at the same time. I know it's not easy, you struggled with it too— but you're… you're better. You could have killed me and you didn't, you said you wouldn't." And he would have let him.

"Elle and I arguing is nothing new," Gabriel responds, setting the bottle of water down. He listens to Peter's word, concern crossing his features. The Company has Peter's girlfriend. Something bad has happened to Nathan. It seems like everything that can go wrong in the world is going wrong. "The Company?" Gabriel repeats, shaking his head in disgust. Can't they just leave things be? He told them he would deal with Peter. Granted, he didn't deal with him the way Angela wanted to, and now she may have gone too far, kidnapping someone close to Peter. That must be— "That's who you were talking about…" Gabriel says, more to himself, his eyes falling to the floor as he remembers Peter's words. Suddenly, Gabriel looks back up at Peter, something the man said having caught his attention. I was never planned to kill you," he says, shaking his head again. "I told them I would deal with you, but it didn't go the way I planned. I just want to help you with my ability, Peter, like you helped me. If you need help with your girlfriend and your brother.. I can do that, too."

The world is wrong. And that's why Peter's asking someone he would have never considered asking for help from a month or two ago. "I know you didn't plan to kill me… I wanted you to, though," he admits, a slow breath as he looks down. That's something the other man, at least, could understand. In a way that's why he even attacked him, why he was trying so hard to make him angry— it didn't work, though. "I'm glad you didn't. I'm going to save my brother. And I need to be in one piece for that." Instead of a dozen of little pieces sprayed on a wall from a gunshot wound to the head.

"How are you controlling it? The hunger? What does it feel like for you?" There's that need to understand rising to the surface, the need to have his questions answered. That's might explain the sudden appearance of new tension in his voice. Forced restraint.

"I know you did," Gabriel responds, shrugging his shoulders at Peter. "If you remember, I wanted you to kill me at one point, too. I'm also glad you didn't." He turns away from Peter, heading towards the chair near the table, and he sits in it, which in turn makes him face Peter again.

"The hunger?" he says, pondering the questions. "It's… I don't know, Peter. I try my best to ignore it. If it fights, I just.. think about those I care about." Which is very few people. Something he hopes to change one day. "It's.. hard, everyday is a struggle, but you have to find something to fight it for."

"I understand why you'd have done that now," Peter says with a grimace, moving a little closer as he sits down and faces him again, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the bed instead. There's a distance between them, and he can look at him directly. "With— with Mr. Nakamura— I wanted answers. I needed answers. And he wasn't giving them to me. I don't even know how— how my questions would be answered by what I did to him, but somehow I felt like that was the only way to get them, like… I couldn't control it. I didn't know what was happening until it was too late." He glances away for a moment.

"The people I need to fight for— I have them. I have a lot of them. Especially now. My brother needs me— Elena needs me. And I can't be out of control and help them." That answers his questions, at least. He grimaces once. "You've escaped the Company before— multiple times. You could help me with Elena. If you know where they might keep her— however you managed to escape."

"Sometimes bad things happen to good people, Peter." Gabriel doesn't mean himself when he says this, as he's not exactly the definition of a good person. He means Peter when he says this. "You're not a killer, Peter. You are not. The hunger is what caused this. I'm not saying it's an excuse… I killed a lot of people because of it, but I don't expect forgiveness from the world right away. If they ever forgive me. People know you, Peter, and those people should be able to understand. You're a better person than I am." Something Elle told him. Something that's true. "We could all stand to be a little more like you."

"When I escaped the Company, it was mostly because they made mistakes. The last time… someone was helping me escaped. I killed him, it was the night I—" Killed the fake Elle. It goes unsaid, as Gabriel doesn't want to bring it up. "If you knew where she was… where they were keeping her, I think together we could get her out, if we had to. I don't know where their new facilities are, or if they would even keep her there. Have you tried asking Elle if she knows anything, or tried finding Elena using Molly's ability?"

It's funny— those words from someone who he thought would rather kill him then reason with him. Peter looks up, a hint of a smile, but it doesn't last too long. "Thank you," he does add, genuinely looking up to meet the other man's eyes, showing he listened to, and appreciates, what he had to say. No arguing, no dismissing. He's at least doing better than he was a couple nights ago, when he had pretty much given up on everything. "I haven't gone back to see Elle yet— but I will. And if she can offer me any help… I don't want to get her in too much trouble with the Company, but… I know she's the best source of information that I got right now." Inside information. He doesn't expect Mr. Bennet to help, and while he made a call to two other agents he knows, he doesn't expect them to turn traitor for him, either. "I haven't been able to pin-point her with Molly's power yet. It's not that easy— I've gotten lucky with you the last few times, but… I've only been able to get a flash or two. I know she's okay. And she's somewhere dark."

As he listens to Peter, Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair to look up at the other man. When he expresses his gratitude, Gabriel just sort of does a little shrug, passing it off as it's nothing. "Keep trying," Gabriel says, and he/s all he has to offer. "Eventually you'll be able to find her. We can't rely on the Company to help us. Angela.. wants you dead, she can't be trusted." She agreed to leave he and Elle alone, but if what Elle said is right, he can't truly believe it. If only there were away for him to get Molly's ability and help without killing the girl. "When are you going to see Elle?"

"I don't know what my mother wants," Peter says, shaking his head. It's almost as if there's been some kind of new confusion added in. Dead. Turned in. Safe. He has no idea which one is really what she wants, or where it will go from there. "But I do know I can't rely on the Company's good faith that they won't… do something to her eventually. Or that they'll release her since I'm still running around free." But turning himself in doesn't seem to be an option. Even to save his girlfriend. Doesn't mean there isn't tension, though. "I can go see her anytime, honestly— if she said she was going back to Maine, I know where she is staying. I just needed to see you first." Cause he's the only one who can really understand what he's going through, oddly enough.

"Has the Company said anything to you since she was taken? Why do they have Elena?" Gabriel says, reaching out and grabbing his bottle of water. He opens it, taking a drink, but his eyes are still on Peter for the most part. "Leverage?" It's the only reason he can think of. As for Elle.. "All Elle told me was she was staying with an old friend. That I couldn't go back with her." He pauses for a moment, going over their last conversation in our head. "I… when I see her next, I need to tell her I'm sorry."

"They wanted me to turn myself in— they said they'd release her if I did, and would erase a memory of hers every day I don't," Peter explains, forehead tense before he casts a quick glance around the room. This place doesn't really look like a home, but it doesn't take long to find what he's looking for. A coat. He walks over and grabs it, before he moves to get next to Gabriel. "You'll tell her yourself. Right now. But you're going to want to put this on. It's cold up there."

The news is startling to Gabriel, what they plan to do to Elena if Peter doesn't turn himself in. Frankly, it sickens him to do something like that to a person. One day, Gabriel is going to have to talk with Angela just to find out what her game is, what her plan for all of this is. He stands as Peter nears with the coat, taking it, and then he pauses. "Right— now?" he says, a frown crossing over his features.

"Do you have somewhere else to be right now?" Peter has to ask, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. That was kind of a joke. But he'll wait for him to get his coat on. "I'll bring you back to New York after we talk to her, so you don't have to worry about anything." And if Elle gets mad and yells at him— at least the man won't actually know how to get to where she is in Maine, right?

"Well, no, I just wasn't expecting—" Gabriel turns around, rolling his eyes where Peter can't see it, and slips his arms into the coat. Once he has it secure and snug, he turns back to face Peter, extending an arm for him to take so he can teleport them. As for Elle yelling at him? Let's just hope that doesn't happen.

On the bright side, she'd have to yell at Peter.

Once Peter's hand is on the other man's arm, he closes his eyes and teleports just outside the cabin. Certain people inspire him to be more polite. He'll teleport into a seeding motel, but someone's cabin is different. The two of them appear out in the chilled Maine air, middle of the afternoon. They're obviously on the porch of a cabin, with thick treeline close by indicating it's definitely not in a city. His eyes open, and his hand drops away from the taller man. "We're here," he says, able to see his own breath. The sudden change in temperature is one of the things he'll never get used to with teleporting.

A moment later, he knocks on the door.

Teleportation in itself is hard to get used to, especially when you've only done it a few times. As soon as they leave the motel and appear on the cabin porch, Gabriel falters the slightest, a hand going up to Peter's shoulder for support. Once he's sure he's on firm ground, he removes his hand from Peter, and slips both hands into the pockets of his coat, standing just behind him as he waits for the door to be answered.

When you're in hiding, every unexpected visitor is met with suspicion, and this knock is no different. The sound drives Elle to her feet with a start, the feet of her chair scraping across the tiled kitchen floor. "That had better be who I think it is," she murmurs, thinking she's the only one who would ever hear it. She doesn't move straight for the door, however; first, she circles around to the window in the living room, ducking her head to peer through a small gap in the curtains behind the sofa. Very inconspicuous, right? Letting out a breath at the sight of the two men on the porch, she rolls back to her feet and pulls the door open, her eyes flitting between the two of them quickly. "Hey." For the record, she isn't yelling. But she is giving Gabriel a look that is slightly bitter, if only for a second or two, as she steps aside and motions them into the house.

With everything he's been through, Peter looks a little better today than he'd been when he first showed up on the porch. For one, he hasn't been in the cold nearly as long. There's still a lot of stubble on his cheeks, unshaven as they are, and his clothes are still in some disarray, but he looks more determined then strained. That's a good sign. He steps inside as soon as the door is opened, using the motion as the permission he needs. "I said I'd visit— took a little longer than I expected. And Gabriel wanted to tell you something," he says to start it off, looking at the taller man. From the look in his eyes, he might be trying to encourage him.

As for Gabriel, he's looking much better than the last time he and Elle saw each other. He's managed to clean himself up, and find fresh clothes to replace the soaked, blood-stained ones he was wearing after the watchshop was destroyed. He returns Elle's bitter look with a narrowing of an eyes, the expression on his face giving off a very 'nice to see you, too' look. He steps into the house behind Peter, closing the door behind him and turning back to the two of them, eyes traveling to Peter when he says his nams. His eyebrows raise slightly, and he turns his attention back at Elle, giving her an apologetic look. Might as well say it. "I'm sorry. You were right."

Well, haven't they all been doing better, then? No bruises mark Elle's skin, and the brace has been removed from her hand — all testament to Peter's last little act before disappearing several days before. With the door open to allow them entrance, Elle wraps her arms around herself to ward off the cold air spilling into the home. "Things come up," she replies to Peter with a dismissive wave of her hand, making it clear that she expects no further explanation from him. She opens her mouth to speak again, but she manages no words before her attention is pulled away by Gabriel's apology. At first, she doesn't quite know how to react, blinking at him in silence. She seems taken aback, in a sense. "It's fine," she says, her tone betraying how touched she really is by the apology. Her eyes dart away, almost shy, and Elle looks to Peter. "Elena?"

There's a hint of relief in Peter's eyes as the apology is made, as if he thought the other man might avoid actually saying it. "I was wrong then too," he adds, looking at both of them. "I wasn't thinking and— I shouldn't have taken it out on you," that being directed at Gabriel. He already said as much in the hotel, but if he's going to make sure the taller man apologizes, he should repeat it again, for the blonde's benifit. "Elena's still with them— I wasn't able to make my threats first— they beat me to it," he admits, glancing down and tensing slightly. "My mother set a deadline for me to turn myself in." It sounds as if, for a few moments, he might have been planning to meet it. "But something else came up that— I have to get Elena out of there without turning myself in. You know more about this kind of thing than I do. Where they'd hold her, what it might take to get her out…"

At Elle's reaction to his apology, there's a visible relaxation in Gabriel. There is the barest hint of a smile on his lips, but it's quickly gone, turning his eyes towards Peter when he repeats his apology, and Gabriel nods in acceptance. Then he listens, falling silent as he watches the two of them talk, letting Peter update Elle with the latest news, and turning his eyes to Elle when the other man finishes talking.

"They'd hold her with the Haitian. Probably in Level 5. Probably drugged." The former Company girl knows something about what it means to be held captive by these people, and for Peter to be unwilling to play the hero and turn himself in— well, it's clearly much more complicated than she'd thought. The hallway is a strange place to have a conversation of this gravity, and Elle slips between them to move down the corridor towards the kitchen. It also allows her the opportunity to have her back to both of them, where she can give in to the wince she held back for Peter's sake. She doesn't need him to see her own concern over his girlfriend; it would speak too much about the danger Elena could be in. "Do either of you want tea?" she asks absently as she moves, aware that it sounds almost flippant to make such an inquiry, needing the distraction just the same.

There's a small nod, as Peter tries to think on this. The news of the Haitian maybe keeping watch over Elena seems to earn mixed feelings. "I've heard of Level 5— that's the place those… escapees were held, isn't it?" The name got mentioned a time or two, especially by Noah Bennet. It wasn't where he was held, as far as he knows— if it was, they didn't say it. Then again, they'd pretended that he was in a facility, closer to a hospital than a prison. Right up until this young woman told him different. "Yeah, I'll have some tea." he says, moving to follow. "Between the two of us— me and Gabriel— we should be able to get her out. With the Haitian there it'd make things more difficult, but… We might be able to. Especially if you can help us out with intel. Where is Level Five exactly? I might be able to ask Elena some questions, see if the Haitian actually is with her, what part of thise Level Five she's in… but I have to be fairly close to where she is…"

Falling into step behind Peter, once they find their way to the kitchen, Gabriel moves to lean on one of the counters, glancing in Elle's direction. "Me, too," he says, before turning his eyes back to Peter. "Level Five is under the old facilities Kellie and I attacked," he says, bringing his hands out of his coat pockets to cross his arms over his chest. He remembers the place well. He turns his eyes in Elle's direction, watching the back of her head. The place where he thought he killed her. He turns back to Peter, frowning. "It will be guarded. They would have planned on the chance you wouldn't turn yourself in." He turns his eyes back to Elle, watching her prepare the tea. "You said 'the Haitian'— is he the one who stops powers?"

Her fingers curling tightly around the handle of the kettle, Elle listens attentively to Peter as he speaks, considering his words in silence. She doesn't interject with her own opinion at first, remaining mute as she sets about preparing the tea. "Might," she says softly, echoing the word Peter had used, her back still turned to them. "You might be able to. But you might not." Struggling to keep from coming down on their plan too strongly, Elle sucks in a breath and falls silent once more, taking mugs from the cupboard and setting them out on the counter. When she turns to face Gabriel, she leans back against the counter. "That's the one. I'm betting he's not the only one protecting her."

"He's also the one who erases memories," Peter says, as if he has reason to know this specifically. Though there's a lot of questions in his mind about how much of that situation had been staged, and how much wasn't. But there's a stubborn set to his jaw. They might fail. "I'm aware it might fail. But that doesn't mean I won't try. That's why I'll ask her first. Unless they're keeping her unconscious the whole time, she probably saw something, saw who's keeping an eye on her." Otherwise— it seems almost as if he's grasping onto a positive outlook for this. "I don't plan to leave her there any longer than we have to, but I— I won't risk anyone else getting captured either. So it may take a while before we go to get her…" And that makes him grimace and look down, as if he feels guilty for even waiting that long.

Shaking his head, Gabriel turns his gaze to Peter, the look on his face almost apologetic. "If he's there, that's too risky. We can get in, but if he's around Elena and we get close enough… and if he stops our powers? Our abilities are all we have, Peter. If we get in and then can't use them, we might as well just turn ourselves in now." Especially if he's the one that erases memories, too. It sounds like a given he would be there, if that's what they're threatening to do to Elena. "How are you going to get close enough to ask Elena anything without him getting to you?"

Allowing Gabriel to speak, Elle says nothing of the thoughts currently racing through her mind as their plans unfold. There are a thousand reasons why she ought to try and convince them not to do this - but they must know every one of those reasons already. She carries the tea over to the table on a tray, complete with sugar and a small creamer from the fridge. Playing house feels more than a little strange at a time like this - particularly when the house isn't even her own. "If you're going to do this," she says, settling down into a chair, "then you have to take them by surprise. Your only chance is to take the Haitian out." It's clear in both her demeanor and her voice that this plan isn't sitting well with her, but she speaks none of her protests aloud.

"The same way I found out how to access your ability without you actually telling me," Peter says, giving him a quiet look— one that turns apologetic a moment later. "I can go into her dreams, talk to her there. But I need to be fairly close, a couple blocks away at most would be best. And I don't know how well it will work if she's drugged unconscious." Take out the Haitian— if he's there. "I can get something to sedate him, but I'd probably have to get to close to him for it to be useful— we'll probably need something with better range, like one of those taser guns that they use." They.

Moving to the table, Gabriel sits down in a chair, pulling it up close to the table so he can rest his head in his hands for a moment, thinking. At Peter's admission, hwoever, he looks up at the man, brow furrowing. "That's how?" he says, watching him for a long moment, before finally turning his eyes to the tea on the table. He'll have to ask him what happened sometime, but that's for another time and place. He falls silent for a few moments, contemplating the tea in front of him, before he finally speaks up. "I don't know about this, Peter."

Taser. Non-lethal combat. Oh, there is a lot that Elle could say to that, so much that she wants to say. She drops her chin into her hand, elbow propped on the table, as one finger traces the edge of her cup absently. He can go into someone's dreams? That admission garners a slight raise of her eyebrows, but still the blonde is quiet.

Until Gabriel speaks. That one uncertain remark is all she needs.

"Ask yourself this," Elle says, dropping her hand to the table now and turning so that she might look between them. "If this is really what you're going to do— " Not want to, not need to; she's under no illusions as to how important Elena is to him. "— ask yourself how many people you're willing to kill to do it." Each of them garners a pointed look from her. "Because that's what it's going to take for you to get out of there alive."

They're already arguing a plan he hasn't even made yet. Peter hasn't even sampled his tea and he just looks between the two of them for a moment. He's silent for a time. "I'm not killing anyone," he finally says, just leaving it there. There's probably a lot more than can be said about that, but considering his current situation, he's not even willing to consider it to be an option. "And we don't even— there's not even a plan yet. If you're worried about getting captured, than you don't need to help me." Either of them, from the look he gives them both. "The information you've given me is enough."

Looking up at Elle, Gabriel watches her in silence as she speaks. Even when she finishes, it's a long time before he speaks up, turning his eyes back to the tea and grabbing one of the cups. No sugar, no cream. "I don't want to kill anymore," he says simply, taking a sip of the tea. "We need to try and find another way before we do anything rash. I know that time is against us, Peter, but if we can find a different way… " He looks up at him, shaking his head. "You're going to need help either way. We can figure this out."

Peter's reaction elicits a wince, and Elle shrinks in her chair slightly, instantly regretting her words. It's what she'd been wanting to ask all along - how far he's willing to go, what he's willing to risk, to get Elena back - but now that she's said it, she's wishing she hadn't said anything at all. "I'm going to help you," she says softly, all of the fight gone from her voice, unwilling to let this become an argument, too. She's had about all the arguing with the people she cares about that she can stand, right this very second. Sitting up straighter in her seat, she looks to Peter. "Just tell me what you need. I can give you the layout of where she's probably being held, tell you about some of the people you might come up against and what they can do. What else would help you figure out a plan?"

Despite the hint of a tone from before, Peter doesn't get riled up to argue withe ither of them. "I'm trying not to be rash. Getting caught would mean I can't help her or anyone else, same as turning myself in. I'm not planning to do anything rash— that's why I'm going to try to talk to her first. And if you can draw an accurate enough layout of that area, I might even be able to use my abilities to find exactly where she is in there…" If he can find her at all. Optimism. He's trying to grasp it somehow. "That should be enough, Elle. Layout and info. I really don't intend to just jump in there and grab her tonight— I am going to think about it, and be careful." And avoid killing anyone.

Watching the exchange between Elle and Peter, Gabriel falls silent, slowly sipping at his tea. He has nothing to add to the conversation right now, glancing back and forth as the two discuss what's going to happen. He finally speaks up, turning towards Peter. "Either way, we'll make sure we get here. We just need to be sure that we're all safe when we do."

Optimism. Right. Elle would be better at that if she wasn't hiding out in a cabin owned by someone with a vendetta against the organization that's forced her into this situation. If she didn't think that every time she opens the door, there could be someone there with a gun trained on her face. No, Elle is not feeling very optimistic right now. But she indulges his, because someone needs to think it'll work, or there's no chance at all. "Just don't take any pointers from Gabriel on how to be careful." Her eyes dart to Gabriel with a faint smirk before her attention drifts back to Peter. "Hang on," she says, pushing up from the table and disappearing from the room.
There's a small pause as Peter's eyes follow Elle out of the room, before he finally reaches for the tea to drink it. A sip later he looks back at Gabriel. With Elle out of the room, he addresses the other man still. "We may not even have to break her out— My mother said some things I don't really understand. She said she was trying to get me to turn myself in to protect me. But at the same time she told you to kill me. It's difficult to know what to believe with her, but she seemed to think something else might be going on. Makes me wonder if she knows what's going on with Nathan…"

Gabriel's gaze darts to Elle, making eye contact before she turns back to Peter. There's a small, nearly imperceptible shake of his head, and when Elle gets up to leave the room, he turns to Peter to listen to him. "Your mother… " Gabriel begins, brow furrowing again. "We should try talking to her one more time, see if she won't give up Elena. I may be able to convince her that you can fight it." It being the hunger. He takes another sip of tea, glancing towards the door Elle departed through, before looking back at Peter. "How are you holding up?"

Several minutes later, Elle returns to the room with some blank paper and a pencil. Glancing to each of them, she takes her seat again without a word, settling down before her cup of tea. As they speak, she sketches lines on the paper, labelling them with pertinent information: cells, doors, stairwells, security. She's no artist, but the map is serviceable just the same. She's spent enough time in Level 5 to recall the layout from memory, and when she's finished with that floor, she sketches others, too, having no way to know for certain that they would keep Elena on Level 5 and not one of the others. Every now and then she takes a sip of her tea. For the moment, she's quiet.

"I was going to talk to her about what to do with Elena, but she kinda hung up on me," Peter says, knowing full well that he will call her back and try to talk to her as soon as he has a couple more steps in the direction of 'saving Elena'. If she even needs saving. "She mentioned going to you for help, so you're right, she might listen to you." He watches Elle drawing leaving his tea alone for a moment. His eyes shift back to Gabriel. "I'm— it's better if I have something to focus on. Getting Elena back— helping my brother… Not gone, but… not as bad." He takes in a slow breath. "Though I'm not sure how it'll hold up when I actually go into the Company." He doesn't want to kill anyone. But that may not work out…

In truth, Gabriel has things he wants to ask Angela himself, and hopefully he'll get the chance to. He wants to help Peter first and foremost, and hopefully he can talk some sense into Angela, as well. "Just keep focusing on what matters to you," Gabriel says, understanding what Peter's talking about. "I— don't know if it ever goes away, but you have to keep trying." Gabriel still is. There's times when… the ex-killer shakes his head, turning his head to watch Elle draw, falling silent.

The drawings completed, Elle slides them across the table to Peter wordlessly. Helping his brother? It occurs to her, as she begins writing anew, just how out of touch she is with Peter's life any more. She hadn't even known there was a problem with his brother. Chewing on her lower lip, she creates short profiles of some of the Company's active agents - name, physical description, abilities, any proficiencies. Benjamin, Meryl, Church, Felix, Mara, Michael, Candice, Nova— they all make her list, highlighted for different reasons; Meryl and Mara for their proficiency with firearms, Nova for hand-to-hand, the others for their abilities beyond the average human realm. Church is identified as the biggest threat on that page. There's a handful of others on her list, Evolved and Human both. "There you go. Some of the Company's brightest and baddest."

"We'll be dealing with it together," Peter says softly, knowing the irony of the situation. "Two sides of the same tarnished coin…" To quote his mother, not quite directly. He seems grateful, though, which he shows by giving him a hint of a smile, tugging on the corner of his mouth. But then he looks back at the paper. Some names he recognizes. Others he doesn't. "I've met of few of them," he does note, but he definitely does not recognize 'biggest threat on that page.' "Thank you. This should be enough for now. I know you said you knew someone else who might be willing to help me, but if we can reason with my mother, I'd like to go that path. Not being in hiding for the next couple of years would be helpful…" If not… "If not at least we have information to start making an actual plan." But now he looks back at Gabriel. "Do you have any idea where you're staying? I know… I kind of ruined your shop…" Apology face? It's there.

The quote causes Gabriel to look down at the tray in front of them, contemplating the words for a few moments as Elle finishes the drawing and rundown of Company personnel. He looks up at them as Peter goes over it, not recognizing nearly any of the names. If he had pictures, it might be a bit easier. "I.. 've been staying at that motel, sneaking into whatever vacant room I could find," he says, looking back up at Peter, but not before throwing a glance in Elle's direction. "I salvaged what I could from the shop, but it's ruined, and eventually someone will notice something's wrong." The apology face is noted, and he shrugs it off. "It was on borrowed time, anyway. I can keep staying at the hotel until we figure something out."

"We'll be dealing with it together," Peter says softly, knowing the irony of the situation. "Two sides of the same tarnished coin…" To quote his mother, not quite directly. He seems grateful, though, which he shows by giving him a hint of a smile, tugging on the corner of his mouth. But then he looks back at the paper. Some names he recognizes. Others he doesn't. "I've met of few of them," he does note, but he definitely does not recognize 'biggest threat on that page.' "Thank you. This should be enough for now. I know you said you knew someone else who might be willing to help me, but if we can reason with my mother, I'd like to go that path. Not being in hiding for the next couple of years would be helpful…" If not… "If not at least we have information to start making an actual plan." But now he looks back at Gabriel. "Do you have any idea where you're staying? I know… I kind of ruined your shop…" Apology face? It's there.

The quote causes Gabriel to look down at the tray in front of them, contemplating the words for a few moments as Elle finishes the drawing and rundown of Company personnel. He looks up at them as Peter goes over it, not recognizing nearly any of the names. If he had pictures, it might be a bit easier. "I.. 've been staying at that motel, sneaking into whatever vacant room I could find," he says, looking back up at Peter, but not before throwing a glance in Elle's direction. "I salvaged what I could from the shop, but it's ruined, and eventually someone will notice something's wrong." The apology face is noted, and he shrugs it off. "It was on borrowed time, anyway. I can keep staying at the hotel until we figure something out."

"That 'someone else' is the person whose house we're in right now," Elle says to Peter, her hand hovering over her cup of tea as if she might pick it up to sip from it, though she never does. "And her name is Victoria Pratt." That ought to sound familiar to him. "Believe me when I say that asking her for help should be our last resort. She's a little… radical." Curling both hands around the mug now, Elle shifts her weight slightly, her eyes dropping to her tea to watch it swirl. "Maybe I should come back to New York."

"I can take you both back to New York— the Company wasn't going to be going after you anymore, right? You wouldn't have to be in hiding…" Peter holds onto the pieces of paper carefully, and finds a way to tuck it into his coat for easy transporting. He's got a pretty wide pocket in the inside of the coat, it fits in there well, without needing to be folded. "I'd like to handle this without calling on too many outside favors— especially from radical strangers. I have a lot of friends, though, so we'll probably be able to work something out." He hesitates for a moment, then says, "I can probably find you two a hotel room, something a little better than what you were staying in just now. Or— you could even use my apartment. I'm not sure I can stay there right now anyway."

Finishing off his tea, Gabriel sets the cup down on the tray, folding his hands in front of him on the table. "Whatever you think is best," he says, looking over at Elle, before turning his gaze to Peter. "I can keep living out of the hotel room I've been in. Your apartment is appreciated but it would be watched by the Company, couldn't it? They might start poking around if we're there."

This time, when Peter suggests that the Company is no longer after them, Elle doesn't make a remark about how little she trusts Angela Petrelli. "By now, if the Company is still looking for us," she says, turning her attention to Gabriel, "I'm pretty sure they're watching every hotel in the city. Probably even most of the ones outside the city. I think if they want to find us, they can and will." In short, what difference would it make if it was Peter's apartment or a hotel? Other than not having to pay daily fees for staying in the apartment rather than a hotel room, that is.

"Maybe if you're staying close by, mom will be more inclined to believe that you're helping me deal with— with your ability," Peter says with a hint of a shrug, but he doesn't really know if that will work either. "It's just a thought— I would like to get my dog out of a kennel, but it wait until I can actually live in my own apartment." He looks between the two of them, then back at Elle, "Do you need to grab a few things to take back to New York? You can figure out where the two of you are staying when you get there."

There's a nod from Gabriel, and he slides his chair back from the table, standing and look back and forth between the two of them. "That's a good point," he says, the words for both of them. He shoves his hands in his pockets, ready to leave when they're ready, and he looks over at Elle, glancing down when he speaks. "Do you have my watch? Other than that, I have everything."

"I can take care of her," Elle offers as she rises to her feet, swiftly finishing what's left of her tea before crossing to place the mug in the sink. "Might be nice to have a watchdog around." Even if that watchdog is tiny. Tiny things can be fierce, right? Though she's hardly dogsitter of the year, let's be honest. "I have a couple things to get. I should leave a note for Victoria, too. Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready." Her only response to Gabriel is a little smirk as she brushes past him to reach the hallway, pencil and paper taken from the table on her way.

"You did mention having a dog once," Peter says with a hint of a smile, his mood lightening as he thinks of fonder times. A dog named Goblin. Supposedly a vicious little beast, if he remembers correcting. "I'm sure Snowy would appreciate some attention." From anyone right now. Poor thing. She got so ignored while Peter was trying to fix Gabriel, and ignored again after he commited murder. And this doesn't include his vanishing for over a month to the future… Or the virus that tried to kill him.

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