Closed RP: The Morgan-Petrelli Tent

[likeabadpenny]

Damn, he had gotten dressed up for this? Surprise marriageStill, Peter Petrelli was hardly a man to fight fate - he tended to run face first into it - so he just calmly collected himself and headed down to the tent village. At least, by the looks of the rather large crowd, he wasn't the only person roped into this

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[racheltherunner]

What in the freaking hell? I'd dressed up, wearing my (admittedly awesome) new boots, and tromped down to the Great Hall for some ceremony, only to get Reverend Moon'd. This was just crazy.

Pretty sure it was all some stupid trick - I couldn't actually be married, right? - I walked dazedly out to my assigned tent. This was the first time I'd been outside of my room... Well, in a while. Things had not been going well for me lately on the 'relationship' front. Understatement of the year.

Ducking in the tent door, I glanced around. Wait. I knew that guy. "Um... Honey, I'm home?"

Oh, God.

[likeabadpenny]

Having been leaning over to trail his fingers in the water of the hot-tub in a contemplative and emo demeanor, Peter glanced up at the voice. He blinked once, twice, and really had to restrain himself from raising his eyebrows.

It was the woman he'd met in the Sorting Room, and the one he'd drawn, but he honestly hadn't thought that she was... what looked like a stripper. Those kinds of boots weren't worn by anybody who wasn't.

"Hi," he said briefly, summoning up a smile so that he didn't seem rude. After being in and around social functions most of his life, it was very easy. "Sorry, I guess you ended up with me? Talk about bad luck of the draw. That you got me, I mean," Peter clarified.

[racheltherunner]

My new boots were freaking fantastic, thank you, and in no way resembled a stripper's. Sitting on the edge of the tub next to him, I crossed my legs and glanced back with an eyebrow raise. "Huh. Hot tub. Okay." Curiouser and curiouser.

"No more bad luck than you've got," I flashed him a little smile, obviously uncomfortable, and fidgeted slightly. For about two seconds, until everything that had just happened hit me. "Oh shit. My stuff!"

Heading back into the tent at a run - damn, this thing was way bigger on the inside than it looked - I frantically checked to find my splat gun and all my amulets safely tucked away in the cupboards. My spell pots were there, all my plants... My knives and other weapons were tucked away in a cabinet. The elves had even duplicated my circle, drawn in copper, that had been in the middle of my room. Now it sat in my kitchen, reminding me painfully of home. Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, I kicked off my boots and padded into my room to make sure that my clothing was all there, taking my

[likeabadpenny]

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Peter lifted himself up and followed Rachel, wondering what the sudden panic was about. Maybe she just really liked her stuff? For his own part, Peter hadn't worried about that issue at all, having come to this castle with, quite literally, nothing but himself.

Once he reached the bedroom, Peter absently glanced at Rachel's belongings - he hadn't actually looked when he'd arrived. Most of her things seemed to be tucked away; what Peter was more interested in was the copper circle.

But it probably wasn't terribly nice to just stare at her stuff and not even talk to her, no matter how much of a mood he was in. Having situated himself a few feet away from Rachel, arms folded across his chest, Peter smiled dryly at her.

"Yeah, one bed," he replied sheepishly. Even though she dressed like that, Peter couldn't help staring slightly. Hey, she was hot. He was allowed. "On the bright side, there's a couch, so you can get the bed all to yourself. Oh, I'm Peter Petrelli, by the way," he belatedly

[likeabadpenny]

No matter how many people reacted like his abilities were a good thing, Peter was never going to get used to it. The instinct to hide it from society (mostly bred by his brother) was still far too ingrained. And ever since absorbing Ted's power, Peter had been completely unable to think of what he could do as cool. It wasn't cool, it was dangerous. It didn't make him special, it just made him a danger to everybody around him.

But, he had to admit, watching Rachel getting excited over it did cheer him up a little. At least she didn't react badly.

"I'm kinda..." Peter trailed off, rubbing at his neck and trying to figure out a good way to explain it. While he was thinking, he reached over and grabbed the pot of pasta, setting it down on the stove and fiddling with the controls. At least there was a stove. He still had no idea about this magic stuff. "Well, I'm like a filing cabinet, I guess. I get near people with special abilities, and my DNA... makes a copy for my own use. I can't control it, I just pick up everything. I probably

[racheltherunner]

My jaw just...dropped.

"Wow." Boy, was I ever articulate. But that was pretty much the coolest thing ever, and now I was tinging on jealous. To think of the things Peter could do, the people he could help, it was overwhelming.

Leaning against the counter, I let my mind roll over everything. "So, wait. If someone here has some...ability, you can just...do it?" Amazing. Just freaking amazing.

"Have you ever thought about being a runner?"

[likeabadpenny]

"Well, it takes work. I'm actually pretty inconsistent in being able to use most of them," Peter explained, finally managing to turn the stove on. He couldn't believe how curious Rachel was about this. Nobody had asked him for more details before, and it was weirdly nice. Carla had liked it, sure, but she hadn't asked.

Actually, the last person to be this curious about his ability was Sylar. Hopefully Rachel wasn't going to try slice his head open. She didn't seem like the type, unless she was a great actress.

Picking up a spoon and stirring the pasta attentively, Peter smiled slightly. "But yeah, all I need to do is be in the same room, really. Well, I guess. A... friend," was 'friend' the right word for Claude? Peter didn't know, "Told me I was an empath or something. So it runs off emotions, I think. It's better than being seen as the politician's crazy suicidal little brother, in any case."

At the question, he snorted quietly - not dismissive or derisive, but pleased. "Never thought about it, no." Never mind that they didn't

[racheltherunner]

Listening attentively, I gave out a low whistle, finally returning to chopping up vegetables for our salad. "Would it work with me? I mean, I can do things that you can't, genetically. My blood is the quickening agent for my spells - well, not just specifically me. Any Witch could do it. But a human's blood wouldn't, nor a vamp or a werewolf. You get the picture. Anyway, since we're in the same room...I wonder if you could. Invoke one of my amulets." Interesting, to say the least.

Dumping the cucumbers in the bowl, I then picked up a radish and held it up in silent question. At his nod, I got to work on that, too. "Does it hurt?" I didn't mean physically. When I'd learned to hold some of a ley line's power in my head, it'd hurt my chi, an emotional ache that seemed physical, but had no basis in my physical body. I had to imagine that Peter's abilities were much like that. My voice was empathetic as I glanced over at him. Oh, crap. If he could absorb abilities... "Am I hurting you?" I asked, suddenly apologetic and

[racheltherunner]

Cautiously, I watched him for a minute. Then, taking a deep breath, I reached down inside of myself to end the circle, hissing slightly through my teeth as the force of the ever after hummed through me, returning to the line. I'd thrown up the circle so fast, I'd used way more power than I should have. I felt overinflated for a moment, painfully, until everything balanced out.

As soon as I could, I moved forward, dropping to my knees in front of him, my hands going to rest on his knees as I tried to see if he was hurt. "Hey," I murmured, doing my best to hold my aura away from his, to keep my chi sealed off. It wasn't something I was very good at - ley line witches needed more of that sort of thing. Keeping their souls separate from their familiars or from the power of the lines. And, no matter what anyone said, I was an earth witch.

Worried, I looked up at him. "How are you feeling?"

[likeabadpenny]

One day, Peter was really going to have to ask Rachel exactly what it was that she did to set up circles; every time it happened it sent a strange prickling feeling across the back of his neck. Not in an absorbing kind of way, but in a 'There's definitely something going on' kind of way

[racheltherunner]

A flash of something went through me as my hands were gently and politely taken off of Peter's knees. Hurt, maybe. But for it to hurt, I had to care, and I sure as hell was not going to do that. There were wisps of some kind of emotion that were starting to ebb through me when I looked at him or thought about him, just the tiniest idea of something other than polite indifference. But I gathered them all up and shoved them away, buried them. Emotions made you vulnerable. I'd been almost broken up the past week, at loose ends and unsure, because of emotions. I couldn't do it again. Especially when Peter most assuredly was not being so afflicted. I just needed to get myself together

[likeabadpenny]

Not really comprehending exactly how much time was passing, Peter let the minutes tick by until his hands went completely numb. This was safe. If he kept this up, he wouldn't be in danger of blowing up the whole tent village. Forehead pressed into his arm, Peter closed his eyes and tried not to think about the dreams he'd had before Kirby Plaza. An empty street in New York, people he cared about running away from him in fear, Nathan standing too close and disintegrating. All because Peter couldn't control these stupid abilities

[likeabadpenny]

It would have at least been nice to have a pleasant sleep of some kind. Unfortunately, that was growing more and more impossible for Peter's mind - even since he'd exploded, he'd had dreams every night. Possibilities of what could have happened; if Nathan hadn't arrived quickly enough, if he hadn't taken action when he had, if Sylar had won the fight. Even being exhausted didn't spare him. Today, it was one of the variations that Peter really despised and worried over - if he'd exploded right in the middle of Kirby Plaza.

With a sharp gasp, Peter woke up all too suddenly, right in the middle of trying to reach out and warn somebody. The motion carried over and sent Peter toppling out of bed, landing face-first on the floor. His mind still reeling with images of people burning alive, he rolled over onto his back and simply lay there. Peter cracked his jaw back into its rightful position.

Oh, christ. The memory of yesterday came back in a rush. But the very end of last night hadn't been so bad - it had been really nice, actually, once

[racheltherunner]

Caught in the middle of my spat of domestic bliss, I looked up with a grin. "Morning." He still looked like crap, but less like he would fall down at any moment. So...slight improvement. Walking over, dressed in a casual jeans and a tank top, I pressed a mug of coffee in his hand. "I'm making pancakes. So, in a manner of speaking, yes."

I'd had a good night's sleep. Gotten up fairly early, even, and made up several different potions. Then gotten started on breakfast. Peter, I knew, had not had my luck. I'd heard him, muttering in his sleep. Sometimes shouting. At one point I'd stood in his doorway, watching him. Helpless. It had not been a good feeling.

Touching his arm, gently, I searched his face. "Bad dreams?" But before he could answer, my pancakes started to burn.

"Turn it!" Shoving my mug into his hands, I turned around, quickly flipping them over. Okay, only slightly charred. Not too bad.

[likeabadpenny]

Dazed, Peter managed to keep hold on the mug Rachel had shoved at him, watching as she hurried over to the pancakes to keep them from burning. Ooh, pancakes. He hadn't had pancakes in ages.

But at least it had given him a distraction, allowing him to avoid her question about bad dreams. That was something Peter really didn't even want to think about five minutes after one had woken up. He still wanted to run and find Nathan, just to make sure that he was alive and healthy, even though he knew logically that his brother was fine.

Stepping closer into the kitchen, Peter quirked a faint smile, rubbing a hand over his chin. He should probably shave. "Want any help? It's been a while since I've made pancakes, but I could probably manage to do something, provided it's easy and doesn't involve cooking. I could find toppings?"

[racheltherunner]

I knew all about bad dreams. When you had a demon's aura on you, when that demon liked torture like some people liked oxygen, when you had a scar that turned off your free will and made you into a walking vamp happy meal... Yeah. You had dreams. And I, for whatever reason, wanted to know what Peter's were. So I could help.

Like I could help anyone.

Managing my chaos, I glanced over at him, my mouth tugging into a smile. "Sure. You're on topping detail." I took back my mug and, impulsively, gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. Yeah, I needed to stop doing that. Like, now. Whatever. "Then you sit. I'm cooking." Brandishing my spatula at him, I grinned impishly and returned to making sure I didn't burn the tent down.

[racheltherunner]

Nudging him a little, I tried for a smile. "Good. I hate fat, old people." For a second I looked at him, wanting to say more, but, unsure, I just stood up and walked back into the kitchen.

Where a rod of new redwood was sitting, reminding me that I'd done some brewing this morning. "Hey," I said, rifling in my cupboard and pulling out a few amulets. "Um... I made you a couple of things."

Uninvoked - I hadn't wanted to do that yet, and I was curious to see if he had absorbed anything from me that would make him able to do it for himself - three discs about the size of a quarter lay in my hand. "If you want them." I was well used to humans not being very receptive to magic. I was actually pretty excited about one of them, but if Peter wasn't interested, I wasn't going to push.

[likeabadpenny]

Glancing up at Rachel's comment, Peter shook himself out of his more morbid thoughts - time and place, Petrelli - and wandered over to Rachel. He couldn't help looking rather curiously at the amulets, wondering exactly how bits of wood amounted to anything.

Oh, maybe this was what Rachel had been talking about earlier, wondering if he'd picked up enough of her genetics to... what had she called it, 'invoke'? Peter couldn't really remember that well, between various things that had happened since that conversation, but sure, why not. It would good to have something to distract him.

"Yeah, you'll have to excuse me and my ignorance, but what do they do?" He asked, rubbing his neck sheepishly. Peter didn't want to seem ungrateful, but really, he had no idea what she was even offering.

[racheltherunner]

I chuckled softly, shrugging. "Hey, it's not ignorance. You didn't make them, there's no way you'd know

[likeabadpenny]

During the explanation of the pain amulet, Peter had kept a serious face, nodding the appropriate places. Dulling pain - while something he hoped he'd never have to have use for as much, now - was pretty useful, when he thought about it. It would be good to wear it, just in case of emergencies.

Peter couldn't help looking a bit embarrassed over the second one; if she'd made it for him, he must have been loud in his sleep last night. There was no way to pretend that she'd made it just in case. Nonetheless, he flashed Rachel a grateful look, only tempered slightly by his awkwardness at the hypothetical subject.

But the third one... well, Peter didn't care if it might not work. It took him a few seconds to understand the magnitude of what the amulet could do for him, but when it clicked, his eyes widened in surprise. The idea that something could stop him from absorbing abilities, he hadn't even considered that there might be a way, short of 'curing' his abilities altogether. Slowly, a hopeful smile curled at the corner of his lips