What: An introduction
Where: St. Vincents, Manhattan.
When: Tuesday, September 14th, 2:00 am
It's time. Finally.
Peter walked his first steps outside of the hospital room for what seemed an endless week.
At first, his mother had refused vehemently to allow him to be hospitalized, but the fevers and the seizures could no longer be ignored. Even then, the best doctors had no coherent idea as to what was happening with his body.
Nathan, for his part, made himself scarce, and whenever Peter had his eyes open, his brother was nowhere in sight. A seismic blow had come to pass, which seemed to break the bond the brothers had so tightly wound against each other ever since they had been children.
But Peter no longer cared. The blackout seemed to rejuvenate his own sense of purpose, and finally reaching the end of the hallway, he felt at ease with his own state of mind for perhaps the first time since waking up on the streets and without any sort of recognition.
Then he turned the corner.
Standing up and walking to get a fresh cup of coffee,
Peter felt as if he had been lifted into the air, hovering if for a split second, before coming back down and recognizing that perhaps his recovery had not been without side effects after all.
The man who had bumped into him struck Peter as peculiar, and yet, he carried a sense of familiarity, as if they had already met before, years it seemed, for Peter could not grasp any fresh memories of the face he had glimpsed before continuing to walk.
All he wanted now was to go back to whatever everyday existence he had found for himself. His mother, who so earnestly sat next to him every day during his recovery, asked that he promise not to ask anymore questions. Apparently Nathan had a bigger mouth than he imagined. Or perhaps it was just her affections. He meant to keep the promise. He meant to.
But it won't last. I still feel it inside me. Whatever this is.
Peter stopped shy of the exit and turned back. The pull of this stranger was unmistakable. The bump not just a bump. But something else entirely, a new beyond just waiting for him to step through.
Go on. Take the first leap. Follow your gut for once.
He walked back to his room but stopped just short.
Did he hover? No, that's not likely... but I really doubt he hopped... also, what was that draft, I didn't intend anything like that. I wonder if he has any intent
Despite not knowing what he was doing, Peter felt that with each step he took, he came closer to a breakthrough, a kind of revelation about who he was and who he was meant to be.
The man was there, waiting for his coffee. This was the only chance Peter would get.
Just be yourself. You know he won't pretend.
The man seemed on edge, like he'd been completely run ragged in the past few days,
"Do you...you don't know me, do you? This may sound crazy to you, and if you think I'm out of it, I'll leave you alone, but..."
Do it. This is your chance.
"I know you sense it too. This crazy, unbelievable connection between us. Just now!"
I can't be wrong. It feels right. It all feels right.
"Am I right? Or am I just...making a complete fool out of myself?"
Peter didn't know whether he had made the first right choice or the last in a line of very bad ones. The trembling hand he used to cover his eyes as he turned told him little except that he was knee deep into it now, and there was no turning from what he had just unraveled.
The man's calm did nothing but infuriate Peter.
He's playing with me.
The air circulating around the room slowly entwined itself around him, until he too felt his hair floating above his forehead, lifted by an invisible wind.
"Looks like it can."
"Did I just annoy you? Sorry, I keep this calm, helps me keep focused, otherwise my hair is blown around and knotted up. Anyway, if we really are a 'we' then tell me what you do. Honestly you're the first other one of 'us' I've met, and I'm glad I'm not just some freak,"
...He believes me?
"Are you...are you telling me...is this...what is this? But, you're like me! Or, we're like something else! I had no idea. I wanted to find others, or at least answers, but this is...oh, man..."
Peter couldn't keep the look of astonishment off his face, or the new sensation of a smile, the feeling alien on his skin as he gazed strangely into this man he had never met, but clearly holding a great part of this wild new puzzle in his hands.
I'm not alone anymore.
He extends a steaming hand and offers "Shitty coffee while we talk a bit?"\
Peter chuckled and accepted the steaming offer.
He hadn't tasted coffee, he thought, for weeks now.
The whole time from awakening to now, it had all been to build to one impressive instant.
Where do I even begin?
"It wasn't anything planned. I got involved in some bad business back in
"After that it sort of came and went, sometimes when I was hot in the shop I felt a nice draft, but nothing else moved from wind. I gradually figured it was me, and my intent behind my thoughts that controlled the winds. It was my intentionality behind the thoughts that made it come... that's a philosophy term if you're unfamiliar."
Peter stands for a long while, still holding the cup of coffee, vaguely aware of the heat numbing his fingers.
"I woke up on the street. No memory. No idea how I even got there. For the past three weeks or so, I'm almost sure my mother's been lying to me about everything that's happening with me. My brother's too busy running for governor, but...he's connected."
Is this even happening? How do I end up telling my secrets to a stranger?
"The truth is...I don't know what I am yet. At first, I thought I could fly, but it turns out, I think it's...well...never mind. Now every time I meet someone like me, I get these...blackouts...like my brain's trying to understand who you are. It almost killed me last time! I mean, I've been in that waiting room over there for almost a week and a half now. Waiting...actually, I know now...waiting for you."
Peter chuckled to himself and then sat down next to the man, recognizing that he was alive, but otherwise staring at nothing but his dreams.
"So can you identify us? Is that it? Because that would be pretty useful."
How much does he already know? Am I so far behind?
"I think it's more than that...I think...I think I become you. That's why the blackouts. If it wasn't such a strong force every time, I don't know if I'd admit to them."
Peter grinned and downed the rest of the coffee.
Could he mean he attains the consciousness of us? Does he for a moment cease to be himself and begin as us... but in a dreamlike state? Oh philosophy of the mind students would kill for an experience like this.
"The blackouts, is that all they are? do you see anything through them?"
He knows! He knows about me!
"How did you...?"
Peter regained his composure before speaking again.
"Sometimes. Sometimes I can see things. I don't know what they mean. But I'll see them. As vivid as we are here now. When I was still recovering from the first blackout, when I woke up that first time, I had seen images I hadn't remembered since childhood. But they were new! They hadn't happened yet! And then...well...I don't know. I don't really know. I just..."
How do I explain what I don't understand?
Peter looked at the man for the first time since sitting, and plaintively studied his eyes, hoping for an understanding without needing words.
This is like Isaac's website rambles on about... if he's like Isaac then has he met him yet... or is this something that he can do on his own...
"I think I get what you mean, you see things before they happen as a possible future, and then have no idea when it'll happen, but just know without a doubt that this will happen to you.”
"How do you know all of this? Have you met others like us?"
Peter was utterly amazed that this was coming to a pass, that in this man he had found the gateway to the world he had sought so painfully all these endless days and nights.
"I don't know who you are, and I can't tell you anymore about my...well...who I am...than anyone else. Right now, all I care about is learning more about what we can do. Who we are. I mean, can you even imagine it?"
The cup of coffee now empty and cold in his hands, Peter stood up again and offered a hand to the other man.
Finally. It's time.
"I'm Peter Petrelli. And it's time we went looking for answers."
The smile, he hoped, would prove contagious.
"Call me Lejan. Or
A great iron cast had been released from Peter's stomach. He hadn't felt this alive since he was a toddler following Nathan's shadow.
I'll get to cast my own now.
Peter nodded and smiled once more, then made to turn and walk to the exit. Something unknown stopped him. He turned back.
"Hey...thanks for the coffee."
There it is. Joy.
He left the hospital with no answers and a calling card, the beginning gnawing of a killer headache, and the elated feeling of being in control of his destiny for the very first time.
It was a good day.
"Nathan Petrelli..." he said to himself a minute after Peter had left.
“A Politician's brother with power... now that is quite the surprise..."