2007-07-18: Wind And Rubble


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Summary: Jane comes to visit Peter after a brief meeting in the Bronx that didn't quite go well. But this time she shares some rather important information about an incident in East Village that he hadn't heard about before.

Date It Happened: July 18th, 2007

Wind and Rubble

Peter Petrelli's Apartment

There's something on her mind, it's surfaced from time to time since she last spoke with him that day in the Bronx. Right now is one of those times, this particular Friday afternoon. Her iPhone display says it's about four p. m.; while Jane isn't sure of his work schedule she feels maybe he'll be home now. If he isn't, she reasons, she can visit the bookstore, although it might not be the best place to say what she's thinking about with customers and such around. So it is that the musical lawyer with the sometimes shattering voice steps up to the door of Apartment 1407 and applies her knuckles to it three times.

On the other side of the door, there's hammering. But that ends for a brief moment, before taking up again. Moments later someone's opening the door. That someone happens to be Peter. Dressed casually in dark clothes, he has a phone in hand, which he sticks into his pocket. "Jane…" He looks a little ragged, and as if he hasn't shaved at all in recent times. He glances back into the apartment, and then makes a gesture of 'wait a minute' before he steps back into his living room. Should she follow there's a man placing glass doors onto his balcony. "I'm going to step outside for a few minutes." With that, he joins Jane at the door, and, as promised, he steps outside into the hall. "Something wrong?" His voice is whispered.

She doesn't follow him into the apartment, choosing instead to take his wait a minute gesture at face value and remain at the entrance. The hammering sound reaches her ears, and the briefest glimpse of a man doing work inside, but she can't make out what exactly in that short time. When Peter returns, a quietly curious expression has come to her features, mixing with the pensive one she wore when he answered the door. "Nothing's wrong. I… I was just thinking about when we met in the Bronx, and maybe I didn't say things quite right. But I might ask you that same question," Jane replies.

She doesn't look as if anything is wrong. Her clothing is much the same as is common for her when out and about in the city. Guitar case, backpack, tank top with well known musician's image, shorts, athletic shoes. The noticeable difference is an added item, carried in one hand; the case for a second instrument. Long and thin, perhaps a flute.

Whatever might be wrong, Peter seems to be putting up some walls visibly about it. It's not something he seems to want to discuss. "It's being taken care of. Don't worry about it." He'll worry enough about it for everyone. Out in the dimly lit hallway, he looks off towards the end of the hall, where there's a window that's actually partially opened, letting in a warm summer breeze. The hall isn't airconditioned, so it needs to breeze. "What didn't you say right?" he asks, looking back, and noting the addition to her usual baggage.

An eyebrow raises at his raised walls, she remains silent for some moments as if thinking the whole thing over before opting to let it lie. If he wants her to know, he'll tell her. Jane moves on to what she came here for. "I wasn't in the best place then," she quietly begins, "and might've come off harsher than I intended. The most important thing was to say I still call you friend, regardless of what's happened. She's my roommate, I'm her friend, but the situation doesn't mean I stop being yours. And I hope you'd say the same about me."

"You didn't come off harsh," Peter says, shaking his head a little before he looks back towards the window in the hallway. There's still some pretty big walls up. "Didn't say anything wrong, really— I just don't know if I can be around you too much right now. She's your roommate and I know how you feel about what I did to her— even if you agree it might have been necessary." His own guilt makes this whole thing a little more difficult than it might have been otherwise. Not to mention… he's got more to worry about now too. More to feel guilty about.

She nods slowly, the expression wistful. "True, in ways. I'd say visiting the apartment isn't a very good idea for a while. I think the worst of it, beyond what was done, was the being shut out. I still have issues to work through, from that whole cold turkey alone time, y'know? I'm mostly past it, but sometimes things happen and put me back there mentally. Maybe someday I'll be completely able to bury it, but I'm not there yet, much as I wish I could be." Returning to silence, she has her own guilt. Facing Elle when she returned from assignment, speaking with her, keeping the secret… "So far, so good. I didn't tell her. From there it gets easier. Sticks in my head a little less."

"Sorry. But I don't know if I can do anything for you right now," Peter says, still not quite looking at her. The guilt is still there. With more of it. "I'll be there if you have an emergency— I'll answer your calls again, but I give you— anything beyond that." A normal friendship under these circumstances doesn't seem to be something he can manage. Maybe this has a lot to do with whatever he's going through, and isn't wanting to share.

"It is what it is," she replies in a solemn voice. "What's done is done, the thing now is moving on and living the future. Maybe you don't feel ready, you're dealing with this and something else, I don't know. You'll tell me, or you won't. Your call. But I won't abandon you. I don't abandon people." And for now, at least, Jane seems to have spoken her piece about that. She's proceeding to other topics. "I'm hoping to catch up with Cass soon," she relates. Her voice drops to a volume she hopes only he can pick up in case any of his neighbors step into the hall. "Got some things to share. Some of it about that freak wind in the East Village a few weeks back."

"Moving on is easier said than done," Peter murmurs under his breath, grimacing a little before he looks towards his door. They can hear the hammering still, though it's softened. There's some signs of televisions on in nearby rooms, but when she lowers her voice, he does the only thing he can really think to do. He leans against the wall and reaches out for her. ~What freak wind in East Village?~

'It was around the sixteenth of June,' she begins to think in reply. Her mouth remains closed, Jane studies a wall while conducting her part of this conversation. 'There was a windstorm in the East Village. It did some damage, caused an area to be closed for repairs a day or two. I read about it, but thought it was probably being looked at, given the painting of the tornado, but no one mentioned it to me so a few weeks ago I wandered through and checked it out myself. I gathered up some samples of cinder blocks and other fragments left around to maybe get them psychometrised, but I don't think I need to.' An image comes into her head of a girl about sixteen years old, just a bit shorter than she is, with long dark hair.

Psychowhat? Honestly Peter doesn't know what most abilities are called anyway, so this doesn't quite strike him as something he can figure out. But he nods a little, frowning. ~I never heard anything about this.~ Which is weird because he works in East Village. Maybe he's been that distracted with things the last month… that has been around the time of the incident in the Zoo and— when it came time to finally break things off with Elle. ~Why don't you think you need to?~

'The second time I went there and gathered samples, there was a girl, she looked about sixteen…' That mental image returns along with the story being told in Jane's thoughts. 'She was there, in the area where the damage happened. I went about collecting, she was curious about my activity, and we talked. Over time I started to suspect she had a connection to the wind. That day there was a drive-by shooting, some sort of gang thing, and it scared her. She said that day was nuts.'

There's a curious narrowing of his eyes as he gets some idea of what the girl looks like. The image isn't exact, unfortunately. Peter's telepathy really only carries words at this level— but it does well enough when she's trying to create a picture. He gets a word image. ~Okay… Did you happen to get name or— some way to contact this young woman? If she has wind powers it might be… important to keep an eye on her. In case she's connected to what's going to happen…~

'That's what I was thinking,' Jane communicates in her perceived thoughts. 'I don't know her name, she didn't give it, and I didn't want to spook her more than the topic itself did. But I did give her a number to reach me. I spoke of how it's wise not to admit things so easily, history's full of witch hunts, but staying under the radar is also important. There's the risk of being studied like a lab rat if discovered, a need to stick together, and gain control. But I didn't press her to confirm anything, just left her an option. If it was her, I can only hope she's not been found by the Company, but if she won't get help on her own…'

~And I'm guessing she hasn't called you, then.~ Peter thinks back, looking up towards the ceiling. How weird this would be to anyone who was watching them. They haven't spoken in a while, but he can't help but physically react to this. He's starting to get a headache too. It may not be able to last much longer. ~Did you keep any of those rocks and rubble you went for?~

'I still have them hidden away,' Jane replies, 'kept in case I need or want to have someone I met who can get impressions from them handle the material. Can't say it will or won't tell us anything, but the worst outcome is we wouldn't learn what we already don't know. I've not done that yet because of the girl, I think it was her. It all fits. Returning to the scene, her being interested in what I was up to. And no, she hasn't called.' Her thoughts turn in another direction. 'I at first thought it might've been Claudine Salonga's sister. Cass and Elena know about her, Cass and I were both at Battery Park when a weird wind blew a boy into the water and it happened again at Times Square weeks later. Agent Salonga and her sister were at both places. Cass saw that one too, but since her sister is Company I'd think she was already handled.'

~Yeah— I heard about that one,~ Peter admits, rubbing his forehead visibly at this point. Not bleeding from the nose, at least, but the strain is starting to get to him. ~Can you drop them off so I can take a look at them? Just… small piece'll do.~ At this point, he clenches his eyes closed, and then speaks outloud, even if his voice is near a whisper, "I'll look into it."

Her eyes turn back to his face as the conversation without voices going on, she hearing his request in her head. 'I'll get you some of what I have,' Jane states, 'and maybe have the other one try some psychometry too. There's a number of pieces I took from what look like the center of it all.' When he rubs his forehead and closes his eyes, she says calmly yet firmly "We should stop. You need to rest." Concern is on her features, and she whispers "I'm hoping to share all this with Cass. Centralize the information."

"Cass is a little busy with some things…" Peter says in a whisper, but he's agreed to cut it out, from the looks of things. Because he lowers his hand and starts to turn towards the door. "Just a little'll be fine. If I'm not here, you can probably slide it under the door." When he said a little bit, he meant a little bit. He doesn't care how big it is. "I'll let you know what I find." Psychometry? He's getting that it's visions. Maybe that's what it's meant to be. How many people have to deal with that? He has no idea. "Think I'm gonna go lay down for a bit…" Even if he has to do it within the sound of hammering. Maybe the guy will be done when he gets back inside.

"I'll drop it off within the day," Jane replies with a nod. Given his condition, the way he's starting to look, she turns to head for the stairs, but turns back after a few steps. There's hopefulness in her expression as she does so, offering "Thanks for your time and take care."

"Thanks— stopping the tornado is still important," Peter says, reaching to open the door to his apartment. He pauses, as if trying to do something, and then looks back at her. "Be careful. Know you tend to get into trouble— but be careful." With that, he'll sneak into his apartment, to go see how much work is left, and lay down, as he said he would.

As his door closes, Jane is headed for the stairs and on her way out of the building, her mood a bit lighter to have had the conversation.

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