2007-10-24: Where Did The Day Go?


Niki_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Two people wake up after sleeping the day away and get into a phone conversation. Important information is passed on. And there's Madonna? Stay tuned for more on that.

Date It Happened: October 24, 2007

Where Did The Day Go?

On the Phone - Petrelli Mansion Guest Room & Niki's Room

The problem with being sick would be the whole… sleeping far too much. Peter wakes up in bed alone, glances over at the clock, and— where did the day go? Somehow he slept about twenty hours, and it's evening already. No one bothered to wake him. That, and he's got some things he needed to do, and his dreams reminded him of it. Still feverish and chilled all at the same time, he reaches for his phone and checks reception and charge, then dials a number and holds it to his ear.

The problem with being on these meds would be the whole… sleeping far too much. Niki wakes up in bed alone, glances over at the clock, and— where did the day go? Somehow she slept about— wait a second, this looks familiar.

Pushing up onto her elbows as the phone rings, jarred out of a heavy-headed daze more than real sleep, Niki looks around to find the time, suddenly having no sense of it. She grabs the phone, conveniently on the stand nearby, and answers in the slurred voice of someone who's not quite awake, "Hello?"

"Sorry— did I wake you, Niki?" Peter asks as soon as he hears the tone. Glancing back at the clock, he double checks to make sure that he saw the right time, and then says, "Sorry. This is Peter. I was just— I haven't talked to you since… since we stopped by your house that day. I never even answered your text message, but things happened and… Are you okay?" His voice is definitely toned with concern. The last time he saw her, he wasn't exactly bringing the best of news.

It wasn't dark when she went to go lay down for a few minutes, but it is hours later. Niki flicks on the lamp, but shies away from the bright light with a cringe and turns it back off a second later. "Yeah." She gradually starts to sound more coherent, but certainly still tired or not-quite-with-it, her words slow as she goes on to say, "Are you? I heard you were in some kinda … quarantine."

"You heard about that?" Peter asks, running a hand over his face as he continues to lay in the bed. He'd probably be more inclined to get out of bed if he wasn't colder than he should be. The chills make him pull the covers back up around him, a sound which could be heard through the phone. His voice is hoarse, tired, but sincere at the same time. "We're back at the mansion now, until someone finds a cure for it. It's like a really long flu. It could be worse." A lot. "I wanted to call and tell you that— the people who hurt you in the dream— they've been captured again." As far as he knows, at least.

The news effectively derails anything else Niki may have said; she pushes further up in bed to sit against the headboard. "That's good news. Captured, by…"

"The Company," Peter responds, though he could sound happier about it. "Hopefully they'll manage to keep them this time, but they are the only ones who can deal with them… I couldn't even really stop them. The one of them that I tracked down."

"I … saw them, Peter," Niki confesses. Her voice is also slightly hoarse, and it makes her voice sound all the more haunted now. "In the drugstore, and in Central Park, with Micah…" Too close for comfort.

Though he'd been laying down, at this point Peter sits up, perhaps a little too quickly. He might end up regretting it later, but he doesn't even pause to steady himself, "You were in the drugstore and Central Park? I heard about both of those incidents but— you're both okay, right? They didn't hurt either of you?"

"We're fine. Thank God. But, we were lucky. A lotta people…" Weren't. "And there was this boy. Cam. She burned him, the woman with the…" Trying to clear her head, Niki closes her eyes. "…acid. Now he's here. A lot's been going on."

"Yeah, I saw the news on that," Peter says, not sounding as relieved as he probably would like too. Too many dead. He finally shifts to lean forward on the bed to steady himself. "I remember her… she's the one that I found. The one that…" he trails off. Shifting, he moves his legs out from under the covers and over the side of the bed, so that his feet on the floor can help steady him. "They were captured after the Central Park incident, so— they hopefully won't be hurting anyone else ever again."

"That's a relief," Niki answers. It's definitely the truth, but she doesn't sound as relieved as she could be, either. There's the sound of blankets rustling as she makes a move to get out of bed. She, at least, gets as far as the bedroom door to look out. "I hope you find a cure soon."

"Hope so too," Peter says, looking up to the rest of the room and glancing in the direction of the light switch. Raising his free hand, he makes a gesture. The lights come on and he has to close his eyes, but— at least they came on. "It's not getting worse, at least," he adds. "I just wanted to call and let you know. Is the boy staying with you okay? You said he got burned?"

"Thank you, for telling me," Niki says. "He'll be okay. It's his shoulder. It just hurts," she replies on the subject of Cam, the smile audible in her voice. She looks out on the living room, keeping the door open just a sliver. Leaning into the wall, she rests her head against the edge of the frame. "But I think he got the scare of his life."

"She scared the hell out of me, and I'm probably a lot older than that kid," Peter says, rubbing his hand over his face while waiting for his eyes to adjust. It won't happen quickly. "I'm glad he had someone there to help him out. He might've been the other kid in the dream— There was another kid, one I didn't recognize. Even if he's not, I'm glad you're there for him."

"His family is…" Niki trails off and shuts the bedroom door. She'll be a shut-in for a while longer. "…well, let's just say, I'm glad too." There's another pause; she seems almost reluctant to say what she says next, for some reason. "He's… like us. He can do something special."

There's a pause on the other end of the phone, as Peter squints at the door. He could swear he just heard music. Madonna? He's listening, really, but… Madonna? He gets up and walks over to said door, staring at it warily. "What? Oh— right. Yeah, there seems to be a lot of that going around, doesn't there?" He trails off, opening the door and… Yes. That's Madonna. What the hell?

Niki is in the process of sitting back down when she catches a muffled hint of the sounds on Peter's end. She squints, shifting the phone from one ear to the other and lowering extra slowly onto the edge of the bed. It's hard to hear, but there's nothing it can be but… "Madonna. I wouldn't've guessed you were a fan."

"I'm not," Peter says in a confused voice. It's a material world though. "You know, I think I'm going to let you go, if that's okay. I— have a feeling someone in this house mixed alcohol with their flu medicine. And I better go check on 'em. If you need anything, you know to call me, right?" He always says this, even when… "Even if I'm sick I— I can still help."

"U-um…" The only person Niki knows, other than Peter, in the Petrelli mansion is… no. It wouldn't be Nathan. Obviously. He's not a material girl. "I will."

"I'll give you a call if anything comes up with this virus we have," Peter adds, before closing the door. He'll have to get dressed first. "I was glad to hear you and Micah are okay, Niki. I'll talk to you later." There's a pause for a final response, before he hangs up the phone. Time to get dressed and find out what this craziness is.

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