The Roof, After Sunset

[wannabe_pan]

Andrew had spent most of the day cloaked in shadows, walking about the island and thinking of how pathetic his life used to be. "I shouldn't have come back. Attending the reunion was a foolish idea

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[repeterpetrelli]

Peter was still in a lingering emo thoughtful mood. So he headed up to the roof to get away from it all.

He was surprised to see an adult there. "Um... hi?"

[wannabe_pan]

Andrew looked the kid over. "I recognize your face," he said. "But I'm afraid your name has been lost over the years. Not that it matters."

[repeterpetrelli]

"Nice to see you too," Peter said. "Who are you again?"

[wannabe_pan]

Andrew had long since stopped using his given name. In the wrong hands, like his, a name can be a powerful thing. But it was the past and distantly so in his mind. "Andrew. Andrew Wells," he said. "And yours?"

[repeterpetrelli]

"Peter Petrelli," Peter said. He folded his arms and took the situation in. Really there was only one logical conclusion. "Fandom's going nuts again, huh?"

[wannabe_pan]

"It would seem so," he replied, turning to look out over the island. "Twenty years in the future, I'm supposed to be attending a... reunion." He said the last word with obvious distaste. "The island is nothing if not surprising."

[repeterpetrelli]

"Guess we can be glad there is a 20 years in the future," Peter pointed out, ever the optimist.

[wannabe_pan]

"Trust me, twenty years from now, there is little to be glad about. The world is unforgiving. The more of if you can control the better. Though, if memory serves, you're already better of than most, Peter Petrelli."

Andrew chuckled.

[repeterpetrelli]

Well that was a way to get Peter's attention. Because, yes, he needed something beyond "classmate aging 20 years" in order to get his attention. Such was the impact of having lived in Fandom for a while.

"What do you know about that?" Peter asked. Little did he know that asking erstwhile strangers for more information about what was going on in his life was going to prove to be something of a leitmotif for him.

[wannabe_pan]

"A wise friend once told me that talking about the future could cause the present to explode." Andrew wondered how shrill Dawn would get if she could hear him referring to her as a friend now.

"So tell me, Peter. The roof? Teenage angst getting you down?"

[repeterpetrelli]

Peter wondered if said friend had a side-business in fortune cookies. But he was too polite to say so. As for Andrew's question, he tried to shrug it off. "Do you remember the plague? You came back the Sunday after everyone got cured."

[wannabe_pan]

"The..." Andrew paused. He had pushed it so far down. "Bart." He allowed himself to say that name in years. It always made him feel weak, vulnerable.

[repeterpetrelli]

"I'm sorry," Peter said, and meant it.

[wannabe_pan]

"People die," Andrew responded, doing his best to shut down those old emotions.

"Time dulls the pain," he lied.

[repeterpetrelli]

"I haven't found that to be true yet," Peter said.

[wannabe_pan]

"Tell me, what do you hope for? What do you want out of life?" Andrew tried to remember what his dreams used to be. He couldn't.