ArchivedLogs:Happy Birthday, Shane

Happy Birthday, Shane
Dramatis Personae Peter, Shane
In Absentia	2014-03-19 Well, early birthday. Peter got you a present! Is in the freezer, so it doesn't go bad! :D
Location
Peter calls, early on Wednesday. Very early. Assuming Shane's phone is good and melted, the next call will go to Shane's room -- after having called around to find out precisely where it is. "Mmngrgh." This is what Peter's call is answered with, grumbled and grunty-sounding. "Huh?" is clearer, afterwards. "Whos-is?" "Peter." His voice is hoarse, raspy, but a little stronger than it was yesterday; there's a slight tremble tucked away inside of it. "--you okay? Sebastian okay? I... I had to go, make sure everyone was -- okay." "I got exploded and my Pa's fucking dying of course I'm not okay," Shane snaps. His voice is rather rough as well, not raspy so much as just uneven. "B's --" He swallows. "How're you." Peter doesn't respond at first; just a shaky little rasp, followed by a weak, choked sound. It takes him a few seconds to pull himself back together: "I'm gonna -- be okay. I can't walk for a while. Dr. McCoy doesn't think it's permanent. Shane, I need..." Another breath, slower. "--your help. I found Spencer." "Oh my god." The relief in Shane's voice sounds almost tangible. He breathes out a shaky-weak laugh, followed by a shaky-weak sob. "Oh my /god/. Oh my god, we've been so -- oh, god, thank you -- where was -- /how/ was --" He's quiet, briefly; when he speaks again his breath has the fluttery-quiet quality it takes on when his gills work rapidly. "Fuck, thank you, where the hell /was/ he?" "Shane." Peter's voice is much more quiet, now, in response to Shane's relief, in response to his joy. There's a trembling weakness to the words, even as he rushes to get them out: "We need Karrie's power. I think I've bought us some time. I -- talked Professor McCoy into -- we used cryoprotectants. Low temperatures. Preserved the tissue. It was just... a few hours. Maybe six, I think? I blacked out -- but, Karrie's probably burnt out I don't know if she'll even -- we need Joshua, maybe, or if someone knows where Mirror is, or... or if there's some way to /unburn/ her, or..." Near the end of his explanation, the words just tumble out, almost unraveling. "Wait, we -- what's a -- what's a cryo -- no, n--" Shane's words turn into just a low moan, soft and creaky-rough. "Nonononono. No that's not. That's not he's not." And then silence, again. Not even breathing, not sobbing, only quiet. "Shane." Peter repeats, and for a moment, the quiver in that voice becomes more pronounced, the sense that he's going to unravel again -- but then he repeats himself, more firmly, shoring himself up: "Shane. Listen to me. I need your help. We can save him. Between the two of us, maybe with Hive, if he's -- okay -- we can find a way to... I can't walk, I can't even leave the medbay. Professor McCoy thinks there isn't a way to do this. But I /know/ there is. Please, help me." The silence continues for a good while. "Nobody's okay," Shane finally whispers. "Hive's not okay. Spence is dead. My dads are -- you're not -- /Karrie's/ not --" He swallows, and lapses back into silence. "I don't know how to help anything anymore. How could Hive help this? He was /already/ dying." "Just from people he knows. Knowing their powers, knowing where they are -- we need to find a way to..." Peter lapses into silence again, his breathing hard and heavy on the other line. "...Shane I'm not -- when I went down to get him, and I /found/ him, I almost. Almost didn't -- come back up -- I," and there's another choking sound, extended for several long, excruciating moments. It carries on for a bit, until Peter's breathing slows, and. "...sorry I'm not -- I shouldn't have -- called you. But I didn't know -- who else to ask. To help." "He's my /brother/, of /course/ you should've fucking -- where did you even -- /how/ did you even." Shane's words stutter-rasp of into silence again. "Come back up from /what/. Where --" His breathing slows, too, laboured and rough. "Peter, none of this is /right/. What's going on here, it's not -- he's -- /she's/ --" He exhales slow and shuddery. "Lucien might be able to help her. Or Joshua, he's still got Eli in him." "--is Dusk hurt bad? Maybe he could -- he got out really quick. He could maybe... help her, too. Or organize it, or talk to her, or... I can't -- talk to her, do that to her..." Peter's breathing is interrupted by a giddy, breathless, almost manic laugh. "--Bay of Bengal. Phone's last position. Professor Suresh -- my scuba gear. Decompression sickness." "Dusk got pretty burned but he was on his feet at least. Got out but he went back /in/. Grabbing people. -- The bay of fucking." Shane's breathing is rough and ragged. "Fuck, Aloke. Need to get him the biggest -- goddamn -- gift basket --" His laugh doesn't really have a lot of mirth to it. "Jesus. Corey's been around. Helping out this healer chick." "--Corey? What does..." Peter begins, but then cuts himself off: "Dusk. Okay. I'll call -- I shouldn't have -- you have so much to deal with I just. Can't do this on my own right now but... Don't tell the others, yet. About -- I don't want to... if this doesn't work... it /will/ work," Peter insists, a little shakily, but soon adds, much more quietly: "But if it doesn't... I don't want to -- get their hopes up -- should just tell them when we... we know for sure." "What? What the fuck?" Shane sounds a little bewildered, a little sharp-edged. "Peter, you can't -- this is fuckin /Spence/, dude, he's been missing for goddamn days, my dads have been going spare. They need to know what's going on. Besides which Karrie --" He exhales sharp and brief, a quick huff, just repeating himself afterwards a little more firmly: "They need to know." Peter's quiet for a moment after that last 'they need to know'; when he responds, it's much more soft: "...you're right, I just... I don't want -- to hurt them. Anymore." "I know." There's a twisted unhappy edge to Shane's voice with this. "I -- guess I should. Tell them. I." He draws in a slow fluttery breath. "You find Karrie. And help. I'll deal with my family, okay?" At the mention of Peter finding Karrie, there's a heavy, thick, choked sigh. And then: "...okay. I love you." "Love you." It's very quiet. "Just --" Shane exhales heavily, unsteady by its end. "Okay." For a moment his breathing picks up into almost a laugh. "Man. We're /all/ going to be fucking dead by the end of this." And then an actual laugh, more ragged still: "Guess that goes without saying. /Everyone's/ going to be dead by the end of everything. That's just how life /is/. What the fuck are we doing, Peter." He doesn't actually give Peter a chance to answer before hanging up.