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here ]Either she was the only unlucky person to experience a freezing shower, or she just hadn't built up the tolerance for it that the more seasoned patients had. Whichever it was, she was the first person into the sun room and while normally she wouldn't mind that, the soldiers were majorly creepy and she was kind of hoping for some kind
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So he sat there quietly and waited for the kid to reach him, noticing that he was acting awkward and nervous. He would just have to be patient and understanding, which was luckily pretty easy for him (even when he was in a world of pain, amazingly enough).
"No, no, it's fine," he said with a shake of his head. "We can talk." It would give the kid the closure he needed, not to mention the fact that Peter could actually relate. He'd wanted to do the same thing when he'd been a victim of Special Counseling, but he'd had a hard time tracking down any of the people that he'd come across that night. It probably wasn't worth dwelling on now.
"And really, you don't need to worry about it. I... I was in your position once. I know what it feels like, how it makes perfect sense at the time. You couldn't help it, all right? You just have to remember that." It was far easier to say it to someone else, of course, and Peter had also been lucky in that he hadn't hurt that many people when he'd been taken. He'd been too focused on Sylar. Still, he wanted to help.
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"It's still pretty messed up," he sighed. Even if the guy had been in the same position before, well... all the more reason for him to understand that it sucked. And that just letting something like that go was way harder than it sounded.
"Anyway," he tried, "I thought I could make it up to you, but they took my Psychs this morning too." Even the pins Mr. H had made were gone. He hadn't expected to keep the brand-name clothing or much else, but for everything to be gone? Couldn't he keep his headphones? Were they that heartless?
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What the kid said next surprised Peter for a couple of reasons. First of all, he didn't really expect anyone to make something like that up to him. In a way, the kid had been a victim just as much as he had, so he didn't need to worry about that. Secondly, he had no idea what Psychs were, but he was curious to know how they could have been of help. And lastly...
"Your things were taken? What are Psychs, exactly?" His guess was that they were something that made him able to do all the stuff he'd done the night before, but Peter could only hypothesize at what sort of item could cause that. Or maybe they were just powers that he'd been born with, same as Peter. Though the whole speaker thing had been pretty strange.
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"This morning. They never had a problem with my headphones til these jerks took over," he nodded in the direction of the nearest soldiers. It was annoying enough that he couldn't at least shut out a lot of the noise, whether he listened to music with them or not.
"Psychs. Like how I... last night. Mostly attack stuff, but I had some healing ones too. They look like little round pins. They're like- They help me focus. Like borrowing someone's imagination to make it happen. It's-... complicated."
He kicked the floor a few times before finally looking up again. "I'm Neku. Sakuraba. But just Neku is cool."
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It sounded like Peter's first guess had been right and this kid had things that would grant him abilities. It was totally different from his own experience, and he had no idea how pins that were based on imagination could cause lightning bolts to be thrown, but he really wasn't in a position to question it. He was apparently some kind of mutant, after all.
"And they took those too?" he asked with a sigh. In a way, he was lucky. His powers came from within, so while he could be limited, it seemed that those powers could never be taken away entirely. It really would be in his best interest to meet up with Claire tonight to get his wounds dealt with.
However, then an introduction came and Peter managed a small, pained smile. "All right, Neku. I'm Peter. Peter Petrelli. There's another Peter around here too, but yeah." Most people seemed to understand the way they distinguished each other on the bulletin by now, at least.
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"I didn't get a lot of time to look around, but yeah, it was all gone," he sighed, annoyed, but not with Peter. At least he understood what was going on and that it wasn't some grudge match. It wasn't like he enjoyed hurting everyone who crossed his path.
"Is that what the numbers are for then?" he'd seen a Peter posting on the bulletin sometimes, but most of it wasn't relevant to what he was looking for. And he didn't want to bother asking about the little numbers on the board itself. But if there was more than one, it made sense for them to use some kind of system to tell them apart. "Couldn't you just use your family names?"
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That wasn't something he could worry about too much at the moment, though, and he instead focused on Neku's next question. It was kind of nice to be talking about something as mundane as name mix-ups, and he hoped that it would help get Neku's mind off of the fact that he'd landed him in this wheelchair. It wasn't something to dwell on as far as Peter was concerned.
"Well, our last names start with the same letter, so I guess we were worried that would get confusing too." Peter and Petrelli weren't that similar, but the two of them had enough in common that numbers had seemed like the easiest choice. "That's what he suggested, so I just went with it." And he got to be number one, which was sadly a rarity for Peter considering his older brother.
"Hopefully it's not too hard to figure out, but I'm the one who signs a one after my name." He figured he should let the kid know in case he ever wanted to contact him again for some reason.
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