For a long time, Peter had been content to rot in that cell, knowing he deserved it. Knowing he was too dangerous to be allowed to live among people. He'd been mostly convinced that he could handle Ted's power, and he'd been wrong. He'd lost control of it, and if it hadn't been for Nathan, the machinations of his mother and Linderman and others would have come true. He would have blown up New York city. Millions would have died. And how did Peter repay Nathan for saving the city? He gave him a lethal dose of radiation and third degree burns over most of his body.
And so, he had wallowed. He'd pushed Elle away when she tried to have some fun with him. He'd obediently taken his pills. Until the man in the next cell over had started chiseling cracks into his confidence in the program: they've been days away from finding that cure for decades, he'd said, this isn't safety, this is a prison. And the wool had begun to fall from his eyes, seeing this place for what it really was.
They'd escaped. They'd used Adam's blood to heal Nathan; the burns had started disappearing before his very eyes, though they hadn't erased any of his guilt. After they'd started to leave the hospital, Elle and the Haitian had been there -- but seconds too late. They'd gotten away, out of the Haitian's radius. Adam had hotwired a car, and gotten them on the road.
Exhausted, Peter had found himself dozing off in the passenger seat, head against the window. His dreams are fitful, full of poisonous radiation and hands slipping out of his grasp. And when he wakes, it's because Adam's pulling into a driveway.
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For a long time, Peter had been content to rot in that cell, knowing he deserved it. Knowing he was too dangerous to be allowed to live among people. He'd been mostly convinced that he could handle Ted's power, and he'd been wrong. He'd lost control of it, and if it hadn't been for Nathan, the machinations of his mother and Linderman and others would have come true. He would have blown up New York city. Millions would have died. And how did Peter repay Nathan for saving the city? He gave him a lethal dose of radiation and third degree burns over most of his body.
And so, he had wallowed. He'd pushed Elle away when she tried to have some fun with him. He'd obediently taken his pills. Until the man in the next cell over had started chiseling cracks into his confidence in the program: they've been days away from finding that cure for decades, he'd said, this isn't safety, this is a prison. And the wool had begun to fall from his eyes, seeing this place for what it really was.
They'd escaped. They'd used Adam's blood to heal Nathan; the burns had started disappearing before his very eyes, though they hadn't erased any of his guilt. After they'd started to leave the hospital, Elle and the Haitian had been there -- but seconds too late. They'd gotten away, out of the Haitian's radius. Adam had hotwired a car, and gotten them on the road.
Exhausted, Peter had found himself dozing off in the passenger seat, head against the window. His dreams are fitful, full of poisonous radiation and hands slipping out of his grasp. And when he wakes, it's because Adam's pulling into a driveway.
"Where are we?" he asks, voice a rasp.