Peter blinks, not sure if he's heard her correctly. "My closet?" Seriously, Astrid, that's the best excuse you can come up with? But he follows her into the bedroom, giving the other two a backwards glance as if to assure himself they aren't going anywhere.
He takes his seat back, behaving and not going anywhere.
"He... hadn't told me anyone lived. I couldn't have done anything if I'd known, I was fitted with a tracking device. I would have led everyone straight to you." Same reason he could never see Michael...
And he nods. "November first, as soon as we find a safe place for you to recover."
"You are right. I... got ahead of myself. I do not know why. I can tell you where he is if I have a map of the immediate area. He is... not far from here."
He'll just devour the sandwich, then. It doesn't really matter right now if he can't taste anything. The first few bites had reminded him just how hungry he was.
He looks almost embarassedly at Donald, smoothing the wrapper absently.
"Did you... experience emotional reactions before you were... changed?"
"Astrid... why are you in my closet?" Peter figured it was an excuse to give September and his friend some privacy, but here she is really going through his things. Not that there's much in there. A few changes of clothes and a lot of dust bunnies. Oh, and a small box full of Olivia-things she absolutely should not look inside.
She'd been heading for the door and then turns to look at him.
"You don't know that. Did you see the look on his face when he described what happened to the others? I know you hate them, but he's not like the Invaders, either. He... has the potential to be more like Donald."
"He's not a pet, Astrid. He's not even completely human. You really think Windmark was any different than this guy? They function on pure logic. We shouldn't be coddling them, we should be--" Peter breaks off with a pained hiss, ducking his head and stabilizing himself with a hand against the wall. Another headache.
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They'd better not go anywhere.
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He's keeping his voice down, sorrowed somewhat. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you were alive."
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"We had... been cut off, ourselves, somewhat, ever since we lost December. There was no communication at all."
He unwraps the sandwich and takes a small bite, not tasting anything, as usual.
"We... were abandoned. Left to our own devices. They considered us aberrant but not dangerous. We were... adrift."
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"He... hadn't told me anyone lived. I couldn't have done anything if I'd known, I was fitted with a tracking device. I would have led everyone straight to you." Same reason he could never see Michael...
And he nods. "November first, as soon as we find a safe place for you to recover."
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"No, it is wise that you did not go looking. I do not... blame you for not doing so."
"I will need to accompany you. I... know where he is." He looks back at the door. "Do you... trust them?"
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"Of course. I do." Astrid, for sure. Peter... "I think it should be the two of us. They've been through a lot."
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He looks a little bit worried.
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"I was shot while we were finishing our plan. No danger now."
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His head tilts and he regards Donald for a moment. The former Observer looks worn and tired and a bit... wobbly.
"Maybe we can take her with us."
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"You are right. I... got ahead of myself. I do not know why. I can tell you where he is if I have a map of the immediate area. He is... not far from here."
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"I'll get one. You should eat."
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He'll just devour the sandwich, then. It doesn't really matter right now if he can't taste anything. The first few bites had reminded him just how hungry he was.
He looks almost embarassedly at Donald, smoothing the wrapper absently.
"Did you... experience emotional reactions before you were... changed?"
They hadn't had much contact, after all.
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She walks into the bedroom and goes right for the closet, opening it and putting her hands on her hips.
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"Astrid... why are you in my closet?" Peter figured it was an excuse to give September and his friend some privacy, but here she is really going through his things. Not that there's much in there. A few changes of clothes and a lot of dust bunnies. Oh, and a small box full of Olivia-things she absolutely should not look inside.
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"We can't take October anywhere looking like he does, so to start with, he's gonna have to wear something of yours," she says briskly.
She spies the box, next, and her curiosity gets the better of her and she opens it. "Peter...."
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And ah... the box. He steps up to Astrid quickly, jaw set, and reaches out with a firm but gentle hand to close the box she's holding again.
"Don't."
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The reaction to the box makes her go quiet, and she surrenders it easily.
"Peter, what happened?"
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"Nothing happened. That's the problem." And then, "I don't think we should move him."
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Astrid looks about the place, then gathers up the clothing. "If any of these fit October I'll return them when I get him some of his own."
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"You don't know that. Did you see the look on his face when he described what happened to the others? I know you hate them, but he's not like the Invaders, either. He... has the potential to be more like Donald."
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"You're making a mistake."
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