[Nate didn't realize he wasn't alone. So engrossed in the (frankly, disturbing) media, he just barely catches sight of Peter in the periphery, standing struck in the blue glow of the screens, watching. He regrets not checking if anyone else was around beforehand, reminded of the jagged footage he found back in Panama in the Nazi bunker, the trials and experiments done on people to test the effect of El Dorado's "treasure."
Peter looks like he's going to throw up and Nate doesn't blame him, something protective kicking in like a stuttering engine as he turns from the panels and moves toward the kid.]
Hey.
[Nate crowds in, blocking the view of the shattered containment tube, hands on Peter's shoulders as he ducks his head to make eye contact.]
no subject
Peter looks like he's going to throw up and Nate doesn't blame him, something protective kicking in like a stuttering engine as he turns from the panels and moves toward the kid.]
Hey.
[Nate crowds in, blocking the view of the shattered containment tube, hands on Peter's shoulders as he ducks his head to make eye contact.]
Peter, you okay? Let's get some air, all right?