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?"
"Thank you." Hot sauce goes on sandwich, sandwich goes in face. He'd eaten the entirety of it and was rubbing sauce from his fingers with a small napkin.
"What... was it like? Physically. Did you feel strange?" His hand goes to his chest again.
It takes October a moment to put his thoughts into words.
"...Pain," he finally answers. "I know that I am not injured or ill. But... there was pain when I saw what had been done to November and May, and... there is pain again when I remember it. I feel cold, and... weary. I have been travelling and have not eaten or rested, but this is... different."
"Is it always painful and cold?" October asks softly. "Is it always going to cause me to want to act rashly, to take them away from there even though I do not know where to bring them?"
There's another pause and October speaks again, his voice a little steadier now.
"I have seen... what compassion and empathy do for humans. I am told that it makes one... warm and... happy. Will I... experience that, as well?" His gaze drops. Again, his voice goes quiet and a little choked, now. "I do not know if I can."
October looks a little indecisive. "I was brought here, but I do not know why. I think he wants information. He has not harmed me, but... there is something in his mind...."
"They were... close, weren't they? Humans... do not do well when they are separated from those they are close to. Their personalities change. Do you think this may have happened to Peter Bishop?"
He isn't sure how to put across to Donald that he senses something not-human about Peter. His eyes dart and he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
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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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"...Yes, I'd been having them for some time. I'd interfered more than the others ever knew."
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"What... was it like? Physically. Did you feel strange?" His hand goes to his chest again.
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He's smiling, pleased. "What do you feel?"
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"...Pain," he finally answers. "I know that I am not injured or ill. But... there was pain when I saw what had been done to November and May, and... there is pain again when I remember it. I feel cold, and... weary. I have been travelling and have not eaten or rested, but this is... different."
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He rubs his chest, eyes closing wearily.
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It's hard to judge how far along October's come, if being touched is uncomfortable or not.
"You share their pain because you care about them and caring can be wonderful."
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"I have seen... what compassion and empathy do for humans. I am told that it makes one... warm and... happy. Will I... experience that, as well?" His gaze drops. Again, his voice goes quiet and a little choked, now. "I do not know if I can."
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Please don't make him promise. He's done with promises.
"We should get going--if you want to come with Astrid and I to her new home. I don't feel right about leaving you alone here."
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And: "I can't tell you what he wants either, I don't have any clue."
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He isn't sure how to put across to Donald that he senses something not-human about Peter. His eyes dart and he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
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And he can't imagine what it's like to have your child die.
"This isn't a very nice place to live, too."
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