In the interim
Jun. 15th, 2012 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
petraarkanianThe crutches dug into her armpits as Petra navigates the hallways of the hospital. Her leg was encased in a cast from knee down, the left over of her accident with the kid and bike. Such a stupid accident.
A black car blocked the cross walk, and Petra glares at it for making her life just that much harder to get to the cab that she had called to take her home. The door opens on the black car and a man gets out in one fluid notion. Petra feels more than sees the side arm under his coat. She doesn't think twice, and dives sideways, her broken leg hitting the floor hard enough to make her head whirl with pain.
No guns go off, and she looks up into the face of a stern stranger. Behind him a face she does know exits the vehicle and looks down on her.
"Help her up." The man in black picks up the cruches and offers Petra a hand, which she takes.
"I'm don't suppose you're going to let me get into my cab are you?" The face just smiles and gestures mockingly to the car. "You know, they'd kick you out of office if they knew how much of a bastard you are."
Peter doesn't say anything, just smiles as the car takes off.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm going back." Petra is trying to make her argument, but her leg is propped up on a chair, making her argument that much less compelling.
"They recognized you, which means if you want to continue to live there, you're going to have to come out as the real you, and that's not a risk I'm willing to let you run."
Peter sits across from her at a desk, doing paperwork while they talk. After a moment he looks up to see her simply glaring at him. Her arms are crossed across her chest, and she looks more like a sulky child than a child-genius who participated in the annihilation of an enemy race that was technologically more advanced.
Petra watches him sigh and put down his papers. She's aware of what she looks like, but at this point doesn't care. The leg didn't hurt as much as a majority of the things that had happened to her, but it did hurt, and she was tired, and more than a little annoyed at being faced with the one person she would rather never see again.
"I have a job for you, if you're willing to take it." Petra instantly shakes her head.
"No."
"You can't tell me you're happy at your paper shuffling job."
"I'm not going back to the military."
"Your nightmares are still happening aren't they?" Petra looks away from Peter, and bites her lip. "I heard about how you lost your first job." She'd punched a male co-worker who had haplessly stepped to close to her when she had her back to him, then kicked him while he was on the ground. He'd ended up with a black eye and brusing across his chest before someone had pulled her off of him.
"You're not going to get any better unless you deal with it- and you can't do that outside of the Hegemony. " Petra's mind flashes to the bar- if she wanted help, there were psychologists there who wouldn't have to keep an identity secret. "However, if you take the job I have you'll get to actually use your skills, and I'll provide someone to help you start dealing with it."
Peter stands and moves towards Petra, going to lay a hand on her shoulder, but she flinches back. "Let me help."
She shakes her head and he sighs again and moves back to his desk.
"I've frozen your bank accounts." This makes Petra sit bolt up, glaring at him.
"This is bull Peter. I don't work for you, and you don't own me." Peter ignores her and points at the door.
"I've had a room set up for you so you can think over my offer."
"I don't need to think, I need you to let me go."
The door opens and is held for Petra to leave.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What's the job?" It has been three weeks. Unlike her forced captivitiy with Achilles, Peter wasn't her enemy. He didn't want anything from her, and deep down Petra knew that. What he wanted, was to get her help. The nightmares still happened everynight. She woke up screaming more often than not, and her side gun had disappeared. Petra has a feeling that it was taken on purpose. No matter how much he might trust her, Peter had to look after his own people.
"Working with my military intelligance teams analyzing data for possible threats. It's right up your alley, and you don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. You'll still have to go in under your fake name, but I will have someone who will know your whole story that you can see to start dealing with the PTSD."
Her eyes stay fixed on him. He was the Hegemon, of course he knew about what her last skrink had said, what the dianosis was. It doesn't make her like it any less.
"Fine. But I want to be able to come and go as I like." Peter nods to this. "And my money back." Again, he nods.
"And I want to leave. Now." He doesn't look surprised as she adds this particular request. He picks of a set of papers from his desk and holds them out to her.
"Welcome to the Hegemony Lara."
A black car blocked the cross walk, and Petra glares at it for making her life just that much harder to get to the cab that she had called to take her home. The door opens on the black car and a man gets out in one fluid notion. Petra feels more than sees the side arm under his coat. She doesn't think twice, and dives sideways, her broken leg hitting the floor hard enough to make her head whirl with pain.
No guns go off, and she looks up into the face of a stern stranger. Behind him a face she does know exits the vehicle and looks down on her.
"Help her up." The man in black picks up the cruches and offers Petra a hand, which she takes.
"I'm don't suppose you're going to let me get into my cab are you?" The face just smiles and gestures mockingly to the car. "You know, they'd kick you out of office if they knew how much of a bastard you are."
Peter doesn't say anything, just smiles as the car takes off.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm going back." Petra is trying to make her argument, but her leg is propped up on a chair, making her argument that much less compelling.
"They recognized you, which means if you want to continue to live there, you're going to have to come out as the real you, and that's not a risk I'm willing to let you run."
Peter sits across from her at a desk, doing paperwork while they talk. After a moment he looks up to see her simply glaring at him. Her arms are crossed across her chest, and she looks more like a sulky child than a child-genius who participated in the annihilation of an enemy race that was technologically more advanced.
Petra watches him sigh and put down his papers. She's aware of what she looks like, but at this point doesn't care. The leg didn't hurt as much as a majority of the things that had happened to her, but it did hurt, and she was tired, and more than a little annoyed at being faced with the one person she would rather never see again.
"I have a job for you, if you're willing to take it." Petra instantly shakes her head.
"No."
"You can't tell me you're happy at your paper shuffling job."
"I'm not going back to the military."
"Your nightmares are still happening aren't they?" Petra looks away from Peter, and bites her lip. "I heard about how you lost your first job." She'd punched a male co-worker who had haplessly stepped to close to her when she had her back to him, then kicked him while he was on the ground. He'd ended up with a black eye and brusing across his chest before someone had pulled her off of him.
"You're not going to get any better unless you deal with it- and you can't do that outside of the Hegemony. " Petra's mind flashes to the bar- if she wanted help, there were psychologists there who wouldn't have to keep an identity secret. "However, if you take the job I have you'll get to actually use your skills, and I'll provide someone to help you start dealing with it."
Peter stands and moves towards Petra, going to lay a hand on her shoulder, but she flinches back. "Let me help."
She shakes her head and he sighs again and moves back to his desk.
"I've frozen your bank accounts." This makes Petra sit bolt up, glaring at him.
"This is bull Peter. I don't work for you, and you don't own me." Peter ignores her and points at the door.
"I've had a room set up for you so you can think over my offer."
"I don't need to think, I need you to let me go."
The door opens and is held for Petra to leave.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What's the job?" It has been three weeks. Unlike her forced captivitiy with Achilles, Peter wasn't her enemy. He didn't want anything from her, and deep down Petra knew that. What he wanted, was to get her help. The nightmares still happened everynight. She woke up screaming more often than not, and her side gun had disappeared. Petra has a feeling that it was taken on purpose. No matter how much he might trust her, Peter had to look after his own people.
"Working with my military intelligance teams analyzing data for possible threats. It's right up your alley, and you don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. You'll still have to go in under your fake name, but I will have someone who will know your whole story that you can see to start dealing with the PTSD."
Her eyes stay fixed on him. He was the Hegemon, of course he knew about what her last skrink had said, what the dianosis was. It doesn't make her like it any less.
"Fine. But I want to be able to come and go as I like." Peter nods to this. "And my money back." Again, he nods.
"And I want to leave. Now." He doesn't look surprised as she adds this particular request. He picks of a set of papers from his desk and holds them out to her.
"Welcome to the Hegemony Lara."
