Chapter Title: Proud Music of the Storm
Chapter Genre: Spooky!
Chapter Rating: G
Chapter Notes: Takes place before Walter runs off with Beacon.
Takes Place: during 1.04 "The Arrival"
Poem: "Proud Music of the Storm" by Walt Whitman
Disclaimer: Don't own this. Duh.
"Then I woke softly,
And pausing, questioning awhile the music of my dream,
And questioning all those reminiscences, the tempest in its fury,
And all the songs of sopranos and tenors,"
Astrid was completely paralised as she looked at the photos spread out on the table.
It was him. It was the man she had sat next to on the bus on her first day here.
'This can't be. There's no way this can be the person they're looking for—I know him!'
She wanted to tell Dr. Bishop, confess that she knew the man in the photo, too. He was shouting at Peter, who seemed a little taken aback by the outburst and while she would normally try to act as a buffer between the father and son, she was in shock. The bald man's words played over and over and over in her head.
You have nothing to be worried about. The job will be a perfect fit.
You have nothing to be worried about. The job will be a perfect fit.
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE WORIED ABOUT. THE JOB WILL BE A PERFECT FIT.
She could hardly focus on what was being said, but Peter's calmed voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"I'm going to go get your aluminum foil and when I come back, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on."
Dr. Bishop's jaw was working as he spoke. "While you're out, if you see the chance to get me a root beer float, that would be wonderful."
Peter looked a little stunned, but the annoyance returned just a quick and he said tensely, "I'll see what I can do."
Peter left and she moved around over to where Dr. Bishop was, trying to keep the tremour out of her hands. She could trust him with this information, she could trust that he would know the right thing to do. She tried to stop her shaky breathing—she could trust him. Astrid started to open her mouth to spill her secret, but Dr. Bishop spoke first.
"Could you be a lamb…and hand me that syringe?"
A/N: The poem quote is actually a reference to Walter's POV; he mentioned in 1.04's notes that he felt he was experiencing a storm, so I thought the reference to music and tumultuous weather was perfect.
Plus, did any of you notice how shifty her eyes are during this scene right before Peter leaves?
Random Fringe Prediction: Peter's going to mess the Observer/September up.