I debate on how much I'm going to tell this surgeon who undoubtedly saved the lives of my children. I could tell him everything just to satisfy his curiosity, because once my brother gets wind of my revelation, he'll be altering memories left and right. Just like Dad.
But the preventive actions Peter will take will not be done to cover up conspiracies and attain power; they're just a necessary course of action to insure a life of privacy for us and all others like us.
If the world knew about us, they'd lock us up and throw away the key; I told Peter that once and he might not have agreed with me outright, but he heeded my words.
"I need the names of every single member of your hospital's personnel that touched my wife or my children, Doctor," I say instead, ignoring his question as we make our way to the maternity ward. I need to make this as easy as I can for my brother's damage control efforts.
The doctor nods. "Certainly, Senator Petrelli." He leaves me at the door to my brother's room.
My wife, still. She's just been through a terrible ordeal, even if no evidence of the doctor's efforts remain on her body. I lean over her and kiss her forehead. She doesn't have a trace of blood on her, and instead of smelling like strawberries, she smells of antiseptic.
I know she's fine, but with the adrenaline leeching out of my blood, a sense of relief washes over me and I cry just the same. "Peter, I'm sorry," I whisper, taking her little hand in mine. Her eyes flutter open, and the first thing she does is give me her crooked smile.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-03-04 05:06 pm (UTC)But the preventive actions Peter will take will not be done to cover up conspiracies and attain power; they're just a necessary course of action to insure a life of privacy for us and all others like us.
If the world knew about us, they'd lock us up and throw away the key; I told Peter that once and he might not have agreed with me outright, but he heeded my words.
"I need the names of every single member of your hospital's personnel that touched my wife or my children, Doctor," I say instead, ignoring his question as we make our way to the maternity ward. I need to make this as easy as I can for my brother's damage control efforts.
The doctor nods. "Certainly, Senator Petrelli." He leaves me at the door to my brother's room.
My wife, still. She's just been through a terrible ordeal, even if no evidence of the doctor's efforts remain on her body. I lean over her and kiss her forehead. She doesn't have a trace of blood on her, and instead of smelling like strawberries, she smells of antiseptic.
I know she's fine, but with the adrenaline leeching out of my blood, a sense of relief washes over me and I cry just the same. "Peter, I'm sorry," I whisper, taking her little hand in mine. Her eyes flutter open, and the first thing she does is give me her crooked smile.