Even his clothes are gone--really, only his trousers had survived. That's all right, Astrid had figured out his sizes and brought something more or less similar to what he used to wear. After all, nobody should have to leave the hospital in hospital garb.
Goodness, she's on the phone for a while. Good job this OJ is tasty. The egg sticks and protein loaf, on the other hand....
Blame the med shortage. Besides, Astrid knows where Walter kept The Good Stuff.
And speaking of Astrid, she walks in the door, now, a smile crossing her face when she sees her friend pretty much ready to leave this place. Good. Hospitals are depressing.
"At least they're efficient with discharge," she says, her grin becoming a rueful half-smile. She secures the lid onto the muffin tray, then pushes the door open. "Sorry, it's gonna be a bit of a hike to my car."
Oh, Astrid's car, the tiny little VW she'd 'rescued' from a Loyalist who clearly didn't need it any more....
Don't tempt him, he doesn't need to develop a bad bong habit. Does he?
He goes along with her, a little bit slowly. Better to be careful than have to come back. It's going to be an adventure, living with someone he only knows from his good old twenty years gone baldo days, and she doesn't know 'Donald' much at all. She's very nice though.
"Not a problem. How are Peter and Olivia?" Quiet unassuming question. They're special.
"They're doing well," Astrid answers with the same cheerful yet evasive tone. It'll come out eventually what kind of condition Peter is in and where Olivia went, but she isn't going to mention it now--it's not something that can be explained with just words.
Astrid is used to a slow pace--Walter had a tendency to shuffle when walking, after all, and probably still does. She waits patiently at doors and leads him into the parking garage.
And further into the parking garage.
And further and further and just when most people would think that this was where they'd be killed and nobody would ever find the bodies, she stops at a scuffed, formerly bright blue little semicircle of a car.
Somehow it's almost absurdly well-fitted to her. She opens the driver's side door, places the muffins on the back seat, then makes her way round to the other side of the car to unlock and open the passenger-side door.
Well, she's a bit too short to reach it from the inside, even in a teenymobile like this one.
She forgives him. He had been shot, after all, and that takes a long time to recover from.
"Sorry, the heater doesn't work too well in this thing..." she says before managing to wriggle between the seats and produce a fluffy blanket, which she then drapes onto him and fusses with for a moment.
"I live pretty close to here. But I thought maybe we could visit Peter first, bring him some muffins. If you're up to it."
Oh, hell. Another thing she can't really explain with words. Astrid dithers a little, starting the car, pulling out of the parking space, driving toward the exit.... She can't tell him the truth because she doesn't know all of it, herself. But a lie would be... probably really transparent to the point of insulting his intelligence. GUH.
OH, HEY.
"Well, she's--woah, they finally rebuilt that office building and it's /ugly./"
Still, there's the conversational distraction they need for at least a couple minutes. Hopefully.
It's odd humour, yes, but she's seen the things that make Walter chortle. She's used to it.
"Yeah, but... office buildings don't usually look so... deliberately thrown together at random." Indeed, it has a very sturdy, finished, and moreover expensive look, but it also has a crazy-quilt look to it, all a jumble of geometric shapes and building materials.
Don't feel bad, nobody will ever be on Walter's level. He's a member of a species consisting entirely of Walter Bishop.
Astrid makes a wry face at the thought. "I dunno. Though I have a sneaking suspicion it's full of accountants." She would have said insurance agents, but they're kind of not a thing right now....
You'll have a hard time convincing Astrid that things aren't going to get better for her and the Bishops and Donald. Her optimism can't be killed by something as inconsequential as a 20-year occupation from the future. Pshaw, sez she. Pshaw and fie.
"That's right," she answers. "We have to stick to that."
See?
She's driving them into a residential district, now, one that seems to have survived relatively intact, if a bit... dirty. Even after the atmospheric degradation engines were dismantled and the sun came out again, things still looked somehow... dirt-coated, like the tail end of winter, though that won't actually come for another few months. The apartment buildings and duplexes appear to at least be lived in, though.
Everyone and everything is bundled out of that tiny little car and heading up the sidewalk.
"Peter's... not initially sociable when it comes to people visiting him, mainly because he's usually working on something and doesn't like being distracted. But he warms up pretty quick."
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ninetydegrees
(no subject)
Goodness, she's on the phone for a while. Good job this OJ is tasty. The egg sticks and protein loaf, on the other hand....
(no subject)
OJ gone, he'll be joining here in the hallway with his things after changing. Someday, maybe, the food will be... edible.
(no subject)
And speaking of Astrid, she walks in the door, now, a smile crossing her face when she sees her friend pretty much ready to leave this place. Good. Hospitals are depressing.
"At least they're efficient with discharge," she says, her grin becoming a rueful half-smile. She secures the lid onto the muffin tray, then pushes the door open. "Sorry, it's gonna be a bit of a hike to my car."
Oh, Astrid's car, the tiny little VW she'd 'rescued' from a Loyalist who clearly didn't need it any more....
(no subject)
He goes along with her, a little bit slowly. Better to be careful than have to come back. It's going to be an adventure, living with someone he only knows from his good old twenty years gone baldo days, and she doesn't know 'Donald' much at all. She's very nice though.
"Not a problem. How are Peter and Olivia?" Quiet unassuming question. They're special.
(no subject)
"They're doing well," Astrid answers with the same cheerful yet evasive tone. It'll come out eventually what kind of condition Peter is in and where Olivia went, but she isn't going to mention it now--it's not something that can be explained with just words.
Astrid is used to a slow pace--Walter had a tendency to shuffle when walking, after all, and probably still does. She waits patiently at doors and leads him into the parking garage.
And further into the parking garage.
And further and further and just when most people would think that this was where they'd be killed and nobody would ever find the bodies, she stops at a scuffed, formerly bright blue little semicircle of a car.
Somehow it's almost absurdly well-fitted to her. She opens the driver's side door, places the muffins on the back seat, then makes her way round to the other side of the car to unlock and open the passenger-side door.
Well, she's a bit too short to reach it from the inside, even in a teenymobile like this one.
(no subject)
It's so cute. What's not cute is him sitting down like an... old man. When did he turn fifty? He knows she'll forgive him though.
"Where do you live?"
(no subject)
"Sorry, the heater doesn't work too well in this thing..." she says before managing to wriggle between the seats and produce a fluffy blanket, which she then drapes onto him and fusses with for a moment.
"I live pretty close to here. But I thought maybe we could visit Peter first, bring him some muffins. If you're up to it."
(no subject)
"I am--where is Olivia? Not with Peter?" He's so in the dark, and them splitting up again is rather sad.
(no subject)
OH, HEY.
"Well, she's--woah, they finally rebuilt that office building and it's /ugly./"
It... kinda is.
(no subject)
He blinks, turning to look at the building she's bringing up. Uh...huh. "It is an office building."
...Weird humor.
(no subject)
Still, there's the conversational distraction they need for at least a couple minutes. Hopefully.
It's odd humour, yes, but she's seen the things that make Walter chortle. She's used to it.
"Yeah, but... office buildings don't usually look so... deliberately thrown together at random." Indeed, it has a very sturdy, finished, and moreover expensive look, but it also has a crazy-quilt look to it, all a jumble of geometric shapes and building materials.
Just keep discussing that building, Astrid.
(no subject)
"What do they work on in there?"
Why change the topic back to sad things? He clearly doesn't want to.
(no subject)
Astrid makes a wry face at the thought. "I dunno. Though I have a sneaking suspicion it's full of accountants." She would have said insurance agents, but they're kind of not a thing right now....
(no subject)
"It's creative. There hasn't been as much creativity as there should be."
Conversation is difficult with his mind running into sad thoughts like a metaphorical brick wall, again and again.
(no subject)
"You know, you're right. And that makes it kind of beautiful."
(no subject)
Maybe he's choosing his words too carefully. "For the world", not for the Bishops and Astrid.
(no subject)
"That's right," she answers. "We have to stick to that."
See?
She's driving them into a residential district, now, one that seems to have survived relatively intact, if a bit... dirty. Even after the atmospheric degradation engines were dismantled and the sun came out again, things still looked somehow... dirt-coated, like the tail end of winter, though that won't actually come for another few months. The apartment buildings and duplexes appear to at least be lived in, though.
(no subject)
Silence for a bit. "Thank you for inviting me."
(no subject)
Oh, hey, now they're pulling into a parking lot. Disregard the giant letters floating about fifteen feet up, proclaiming the address.
(no subject)
OD on niceness imminent.
"Peter's home?"
(no subject)
Astrid parks her car and looks over at him. "Mhm!" she answers brightly.
Of course Astrid knows where Peter lives. Astrid knows all.
(no subject)
"I have a feeling he didn't want us here." Awkward...
(no subject)
"Peter's... not initially sociable when it comes to people visiting him, mainly because he's usually working on something and doesn't like being distracted. But he warms up pretty quick."
In they go.