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Peter had to carry the latest bag-and-tag into the examination room. The man put up a fight when Peter came to take him. That was quickly becoming Peter’s least favorite part about this job. Most of the people he was sent to collect wouldn’t listen to him; they didn’t believe that he wanted to help.

Peter strapped the unconscious man to the table. That was the end of his job. When he got out of the room he noticed the hallway was empty. His partner was probably making the report now. Peter unknotted his tie, heading down the empty hall to get a coffee.

Elle was already there, sitting in one chair with her legs propped up on another. She was slurping on a Slushee. Peter went right by her without a word to brew the coffee. He heard the chair squeak back as Elle rose to her feet. A light shock to his back alerted Peter to her presence.

“So what did you pick up this time?” she asked him. Peter said nothing. They hadn’t seen each other for days, and the first words out of her mouth focused on his abilities. It was hard for Peter to pretend it didn’t hurt. The mug he held in his hand shattered, burning his hand with hot coffee.

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Elle commented. Peter was busy mopping up the coffee. He felt his hand slowly mend itself. “Peter?” Elle tried again uncertainly. “You okay?” Peter walked out of the room without a word. Turned out he didn’t want coffee anymore.
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Peter Petrelli

January 2023

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