Day 53: Lunch

[buryyourdemons]

There was little to be said of the daily business that went on. He allowed himself to be shuffled, mind embedded too deeply in things he shouldn't be dwelling on. The night was over, the shadows had vanished, and there was little more than bad memories to be left in their stead. This was logic, pure and simple, and should have been reassuring but

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[ham_fisted]

"You're telling me," Gumshoe said without thinking, a grim frown given to passersby. "Why, I remember my first day here like it was yesterday. But it feels like yesterday happened years ago! Do you think the town is still getting prepared for Halloween?"

Ah, but listen to him, running off at the mouth again. He broke off his musings to focus on the task in front of him: writing down the answer Peter just gave him. NYC. "Is that right? I'm from Central LA, myself," he answered brightly, flashing a crooked smile. "What did you do there?" He'd only asked out of curiosity, but he realized after a few beats that it was something he needed to ask him anyway. The detective thought he'd feel bad about buttering the guy up, yet he was finding it easy to be interested in learning more about Peter, as if in spite of the duty he'd been assigned. It also occurred to him that 'occupation' should have come right after 'name'. Well, better late than never, he guessed.

Now it was time for the most important question of all, the one he'd been leading up to. More than once in the past, he'd made the mistake of asking very serious questions in an interrogation too early. Gumshoe knew that reactions in their current situation would vary; some wouldn't want to continue, others could be fine with it, and the rest might have a hard time answering.

"Alright, pal. After this next question, you're done. I saved the worst for last, though, so take all the time you need. Since arriving here, what are some of the worst injuries you've had?" 'If any' didn't have to be tacked on to the end of that. Anyone who'd been here for more than two weeks would have gotten a scratch or two at some point, he silently reasoned out to himself. He just hoped he hadn't pushed his luck by asking such a personal question. Due to the nervousness Gumshoe suddenly felt over the possibility, he added: "There's no need to go into specifics." He rarely doubted his expertise in getting people to talk, but he didn't have jurisdiction anymore. Put simply, there was nothing keeping Peter from walking away whenever he felt uncomfortable. So far, he'd been pretty helpful, though. Gumshoe would have to wait and see.

[human_sponge]

Even if it didn't make all that much sense, the way the man described the flow of time here was actually really accurate. Peter rolled it around in his head for a moment, but he knew there was no way to make it all make sense. All he could assume was that time was being distorted here, even if he didn't know exactly how. He was a bit confused when Gumshoe mentioned Halloween, but he wasn't really given the chance to ask about it. It was probably just something from before his time, though.

It was kind of funny to hear that the man was from Los Angeles, considering what little he knew of Matt Parkman. Another detective from LA, huh? It was a weird coincidence, but probably nothing more than that. (Though there was a slight resemblance, wasn't there?) "Oh, I was a nurse," he explained, realizing that that was one thing he hadn't told the guy yet. It was way more complicated than that, of course, but it seemed that the detective just wanted the basic facts. That he could do.

Hearing that there was one question that counted as the worst would be enough to make anyone nervous, but when Gumshoe actually put it out there, it wasn't as bad as Peter had expected. Granted, his profession meant that he was used to describing injuries in a clinical way, though the fact that he had to talk about himself did make it a bit different.

There was one thing that came to the front of his mind without having to think about it, though, and that was the incident with Roland. Seeing how he didn't have to go into specifics, Peter decided to give the man the cut and dry version. "I got a chunk bitten out of my arm once," he said, running his hand over the now-healed area. "It was done by... what I guess people would call a demon." Roland hadn't been anything like the demon Peter had dealt with that night when the doors had been going crazy, but it was probably as good of a term as anything else.