"That's what I heard. It still doesn't explain what the point of the whole thing was. The override and the screaming on the intercoms," Peter shook his head. "Petty revenge? Why would Jack punish us for what Landel did?"

Of course, it was all too tempting to just blame it on the writers and be done with it. But Peter knew that he had to play the game to finish it. The story may already be scripted, but there was a path of sorts they all had to follow to get to the end. Infuriating it may be, but he had to take the zombies and the visions and the brainwashing and the freaking cast of Star Trek all in stride. There was a point to it. There was.

He refused to believe that Harry died for nothing.

Peter swirled the toast around in the puddle of syrup on his plate, suddenly finding it too repulsive to eat. This was a bad start. He could catch up at lunch, he supposed, even if his nurse was already fuming at him. At least he wasn't throwing his food at people today. He had to get credit for that.

"Did you...see anything weird last night?" he ventured. So much for subtlety. "Like a flicker out of the corner of your eye?"