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Peter stood besides Mohinder, lollipop in his mouth, frowning at the still chained gates that prevented them from making any progress. He'd tried pulling at it, bashing it with his torch and still no access. It was all so much easier when he was a copper, you know? Simply asked for the keys and got himself in, no fuss or illegal means. Course, when he was on the force, he never did have any call or occasional to go into a haunted spooky horror theme park of doom that was chained away from the public.

Still, if he didn't want to be here, he wouldn't be here. So he wasn't really complaining, he'd agreed to this job. Sort of. It was all a strange blur of Jack's charm, too much wine and his own childhood dream of fighting aliens coming to life.

Pulling the sweet from his mouth, he tapped his earpiece on. Just to show he was paying attention and not just letting Mohinder do everything. Again. "You could of gotten us a key. Or a lock-pick device thingy? Don't aliens ever have to pick locks? They should."

He'd of thought by now they'd have advanced tech for these little annoyance. Hell, they had that one bloody death ray with a toast setting on it ... or more a death ray he just happened to use to make toast. But the point still stood.

"We could always try to climb over if all else fails?"

"You have chain cutters!" Mohinder says, completely exasperated, his hands throwing themselves up in abject despair. Always Peter. Never the no-nonsense, let's not chat Owen Harper or the very nice, very well dressed Ianto Jones. Nor Toshiko (a shame, Mohinder rather fancied her at first before it became obvious her affection was with Owen and Owen only).

No. He had Peter Carlisle. Who'd already eaten three chocolates and left the wrappers by where Mohinder stood. He didn't understand why Torchwood didn't have a no foreign objects at strange sites policy.

Maybe he'd put it in the suggestion box?

When Peter looks at him, clueless, Mohinder opens the Scot's backpack and removes the tool. "I'll do it the," he says, exasperated. It's not that he doesn't like Peter... It's just that he doesn't seem to take this seriously.

"I do?" Seriously? Huh. To be fair, he hadn't packed the bag himself or anything. He'd been late in and Jack had simply given him a bag and shoved him out after Mohinder. Not even a snack for the road or a nice cup of tea. Standing still while Mohinder retrieved them, Peter bit into his lolly and tried to ignore the obviously stifled amusement the others were experience at the hub just listening to them. They could of at least turned off their connection to have a chuckle.

"Piss off, you lot."

It was all safe and nice for them! Sitting in a lovely warm building with no scary stuff. And here he was, cold and wet, his shoes muddy and having that very familiar sense of dread and horror.

Once the chain was broken and the gates were freed, he finished chewing the rest of his lolly and casually spat the stick out near Mohinder's shoes. This would be fun.

"Shall we?"

There is nothing remotely fun about slick, spit-wet candy bits on one's shoes. Mohinder gives Peter the same look he gives to Molly when she's being unintentionally incorporable, and nods, letting Peter push open the gate before they both head inside. With Jack telling them to readjust the battery packs in the backs of their jeans because the camera contacts weren't quite working properly, Mohinder takes the time to put away the cutters. He assumes that Peter can manage his own pack, though in the end, they just have to give up.

"Something must be interfering with the signal," Tosh's voice says and she tells Owen and Ianto, in the nearby SUV, to get a bit closer so many the images will improve on their screens back at the hub. Mohinder ignores his teammates' chattering and instead takes in the park.

It's exactly what you might expect from a place like this: overgrown, rusty, broken down, grafitti'd. There's litter everywhere, including in the rows of plants that line what use to be called 'Main Street' if the main directory map is to be believed. There are gift shops and restroom buildings and little outdoor eateries.

"Molly might have liked this place," he muses out loud.

"I never like theme parks much. But then I worked at one during the summer once and it sort of killed the whimsy and amusement. Kid vomit and crappy pay will do that," Peter admitted as he paused to read some of the graffiti. Nothing out of the ordinary really, some asshole writing his name and then some random gangish crap that went over the wall and onto a nearby bench. Nothing was ever truly left untouched by idiots and spray paint.

He kept moving, trying to make sure to take in as much of it as possible. It seemed massive and everything could be relevant. Jack didn't really mention what they were looking for or what they were after.

"I missed the brief, fill me in? Why are we here again?"

Oh yes, Peter was always behind on the cases and what he was doing here. Not good at paying attention to orders nor following them. Still, that seemed to be not entirely uncommon at Torchwood. Especially when Jack was often very ambiguous.

"Are we here to test the rides? Cause I'm all up for that if they're, you know, safe."

Mohinder's gotten use to Peter's lack of care when it comes to cases, but he's not as openly hostile about it as Owen is or Sam can sometimes be when Jack forces him out of that coma he's constantly in though no one will tell him quite why. A smile of calm exasperation settles over Mohinder's flawless skin and he sighs while Owen 'bloody hells' this and that in their ears.

Luckily, he doesn't have to be the one to inform Peter of the mission, Jack does that. "Park closed down fifteen years ago to the day on the 13th. It was never torn down, much too expensive, and there's really no other record of it past a few transients chanced from the park or drug deals gone bad. But two weeks ago, people started disappearing. Children and parents especially. They would mention to friends about hearing carnival music or children laughing and then the next day, disappear in the direction of the park."

That's why Mohinder's been made lead on this... And why Peter's tagged along. Mohinder is not quite a parent. Peter is not quite a child.

"I want you to keep your eyes open, guys."

Mohinder nods to no one and points towards a cotton candy stand. "Let's check there," he says, as no one is going to be the bearer of bad news about how they aren't riding the rides!

"If I disappear here and that's the end of me, I'm going to be so annoyed. I really don't want my soul to be trapped in a theme park," Peter complained as he followed along after Mohinder, inspecting the cotton candy stand with interest. The whole thing was battered and clearly unused -- yet, well, that was strange. Behind the stand, just stashed away, there were pre-sealed bags are pretty fresh looking candy floss. Which definitely hadn't been rotting here for fifteen years.

Pulling a bag out, he held it up for Mohinder to see, clearly not sure what to make of it. He was both confused, worried and -- okay, hungry, but who didn't love candy floss?

"I don't get it? Do you thinks someone just likes to break in and restock the stands?"

It wasn't really horror film worthy but it was odd. And odd always leads to worse and worse. Till he'd be crushed alive in the haunted house ride or something equally awful.

Before he could even suggest eating it, Owen cut in with a quick. "Don't you dare, Carlisle. I'm not going in there to treat candy poison."

"I'm not really sure what the point of that would be," Mohinder says politely, actually taking Peter's original assessment under his own advisement as he takes the package of bright blue floss from his partner and lightly squeezes it. "Captain, Doctor Harper, can you see this?"

Jack's voice is momentarily covered in static before the anomaly clears up. "We're getting visuals for now, Mohinder, yeah. Take a sample." Mohinder makes sure he's the one to do it before Peter can sneak a taste or 'accidentally' lick his fingers. The moment he opens the bag, however, the once fluffy looking candy inside turns immediately to liquid.

Mohinder wrinkles his nose, but still takes a sample and has Peter grab another bag for Owen to open in the lab under a vacuum.

"It's so strange," the Indian says, off-accented voice as soft as always. "There's no sign of the machine working in years. It's literally rusted over."

Seeing it turn to liquid like that definitely put Peter right off trying any. He simply dropped what he had and moved back, feeling slightly repulsed. Cotton candy didn't deserve to be liquidated and turned into mush! With a lamenting sigh, he continued looking around, assuming Mohinder would catch up when he was done.

The park looked strange in the dim light, not quite dark but not quite light, making the rides seem nearly twice as creepy. He couldn't imagine they were stable. They looked like they were on the verge of falling apart. Rusted hinges and damaged mechanisms.

Somehow, that was more worrying than the whole haunted ghost mystery.

"Hey, Momo, keep up. I want to take a peak in the eatery. There might be more creepy food we can take a sample of," Yes, he called Mohinder 'Momo'. Even after they had several discussions and arguments on the topic. Force of habit, he couldn't help it.

Mohinder-brand arguments are really very tame. Oh, he can stand up for himself, handle a weapon decently, and best of all, he knows how to handle people. Mohinder isn't exactly mellow but at least he never wants to strangle Peter on a daily basis like most of the rest of their happy little band. Jack thinks about warning Peter for the name -- they've been doing so well with the bickering the last few hours! -- but Mohinder responds, in Hindi, that he will be right there.

He mostly does that when he's distracted. First languages always are the most readily accessible.

It takes Mohinder a bit more time to collect his samples than Peter likely realized and so by the time it's all neatly packed away, Peter is out of sight. There are quite a lot of little restaurant (mostly counter service) places dotted around the front of the park and Mohinder glances around twice before a large clatter from one makes him sigh.

Peter's likely inside and so, torch handy, Mohinder steps over fallen tables and chairs in the small outdoor eating area and slips behind the counter. "Pete--" Strange.

No one's in the small kitchen and the door to the store room is closed.

"Captain? I believe I lost Peter."

"Is now a bad time to say he's also lost connection with us?" Ianto chipped in, knowing that the connection had been wonky at best but losing someone like that? Not good. Not good at all.

Peter hadn't even noticed he'd lost connection, not yet. He was a little too busy checking around the back of the little eating area. He'd heard a noise, seen something move, and naturally he was following. It wasn't working totally in his favour to move away from his partner but it was worth following every lead right?

He hadn't intended to move so far away but a quick flicker of a shadow had caught his eye and he was soon by a feris wheel, footsteps still audible.

"Hello?"

When he finally got around the corner, something -- large? It moved. And the faint sight of balloons caught his eye. Before he could get a good look at what seemed to be a giant furry person, the lights flicker around the wheel and strange music started to play.

And, just as he thought things couldn't get any creepier, the ride started to move. "Oh shit!"

"Mohinder, where did you see him go?" Jack asks, voice strained, and the Indian mutters off something in Hindi and jogs down the line of counter service restaurants to try and find the other man. It's not his fault Peter left his side, but he feels guilty just the same. A partner is a partner. You're meant to look out for each other.

Mohinder has, to this very moment, been so bad with that. He curses at the last stand and, seeing nothing at all, bolts around the corner just as the Ferris wheel begins to move. There's no music, but for a moment, he can hear the laughter of children just behind him. When he turns, no one is there, of course.

"Mohinder, calm down, your heart rate is through the roof," Jack says, but again, Mohinder ignores him as he spins around once more. He'd not seen Peter before, but there he is, slowly climbing the platform towards a now waiting cabin on the wheel.

"Peter! Peter, do not get on that ride!" he calls and runs as quickly as he can to catch Carlisle.

Peter didn't really remember much, his mind had gone entirely blank. The only thing he knew was that the ride was so enticing and the strange figure running it was offering him to ride for free. Smiling somewhat childishly, he followed blindly, wanting to see just how high he could get.

He was very nearly on the ride when he heard Mohinder call. Turning his head, he looked at his partner and it all hit him. Everything rush back and suddenly, he had no idea what the hell he was evening doing.

Recoiling back, he nearly lost his footing getting away from the carriage.

"W-What? I don't -- huh?" Peter mumbled as he leapt off the platform, turning backwards to watch as the figure had entirely disappeared and the cabin begin rising by itself. The music he'd heard and the cheerful atmosphere dissolved. Like that.

Breathing heavily, he grabbed onto Mohinder's arm. "There was someone there! Seriously! A man. He runs the ride, he -- he..." Peter paused, his face contorting with confusion. "He didn't have a face."

Edited 2013-10-31 20:17 (UTC)

"Jack--" Not 'Captain.' Mohinder drops the pleasantries when he's afraid and Jack doesn't need to hear his voice or see the bio monitor to know it. He just knows Mohinder, like he knows all of them. And it's starting to get to both of his men inside the park. Still, he needs them there. They're the only two that even remotely fit the stereotype of the people the theme park draws to it.

And Jack doesn't trust himself to go there. It has nothing to do with heroics and more to do with the fear that his own energy levels will interfere with the park's. They can't risk it getting stronger. It's bad enough all ready. "I heard him."

"We need to go."

"Not yet," Jack demands. "Go deeper. I need visuals of everything."

Mohinder grasps at Peter's arms as the Ferris Wheel's lights flicker off. His throat is dry and he's shaking slightly. "I didn't it, Peter. But I.. Let's just get this over with."

Peter tapped his earpiece and hissed slightly. After taht? Yeah, he wasn't overly happy any more. A man without a face. How was that even a thing? "Jack, I'm not a lab rat. If I die here, I will haunt your ass. Whichever way I can. Physically, mentally, whatever."

He turned it back off and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get himself a bit of confidence back.

Turning to Mohinder, he offered a slightly shaky smile. So what if they were pretty much here to bait this place into being weird? At least they were getting out, he supposed. "Lets just avoid rides from now on? I was following something before that whole event, maybe we should keep going. Head forward."

He kept moving, just because he knew he had to. Whatever that big horrible thing with the balloons was, it was trying to lead him around. And he may as well follow.

Maybe he could leave afterwards.

"I don't think he's using as us lab rats exactly," Mohinder says as he jogs after Peter. "But I do think that you really must slow down, Peter, or we'll get ourselves in trouble again!" Something catches the very edge of Mohinder's periphery and he stops, glancing to the left for his whole head turns that way. "Did you see that?"

"No, what do you think you saw?" an American voice asks in his ear and Mohinder's blood runs cold. It's not Jack doing it, it's the music he thinks he hears, coming from the fun house.

"I... A little girl. In a gas mask. But that's not right. No one's there."

"I'm not good at slow," Peter pointed out, hands in his coat pockets as he looked around with a slight nervous edge. When Mohinder asked if he'd seen whatever he was seeing, he nearly had a heart attack. Not again! He didn't like scary, scary wasn't fun. He missed drug deals, serial killers and the occasional moron who forgot to pay off a fine. Haunted carnivals weren't fun.

He couldn't hear the music, not yet, but he looked around in panic just to make sure no other rides were turning on.

As if on cue, the music from the fun house got brighter and the lights started to flash enticingly. Clearly, someone wanted them to play. And he didn't really want to. "I didn't see a little girl. Where was she?"

If there were kids in here, they had to get them out.

"Right--" He can't see her now, nor does any of the fallen banners look like they've been disturbed at all by someone passing. To be honest, this isn't the strangest thing Mohinder's encountered in his life. He's seen all sorts of crazy things, crazier still since Jack came into his life. He'd been promised a lab, research material--

He'd not really expected to be a field agent, but from what Ianto's told him, you can't just have a cushy office job at Torchwood. And you have to accept that your life is constantly, always, in constant danger.

Knowing that and being face with that, however, are two very different things.

"This way. Over by the fun house," Mohinder murmurs, feeling just a little dazed, and starts off towards the music.

"We're going into the funhouse? Woah, what could go wrong with that?" Peter remarked sarcastically as he headed towards, part of him wishing he could just ignore these orders and leave. But, like he always told himself, he agreed to this. He wanted this. Well, okay, perhaps want was a strong word. He'd been interested and bored.

Now he couldn't really complain about that any more!

As they came closer to the entrance, Peter took the lead, mostly because he was the faster runner so Mohinder could probably use the headstart. They'd learn that one in the sewer tunnels when he accidentally left the man behind. Lesson learned, never leave a man behind.

Or accidentally flee for your life too fast. As stepped over the banner, moving into the uncomfortably colourful tunnel. "Can't see any little girls."

Mohinder's not slow, but he's also not an athlete. A little swimming at university and some football when he'd been a child does not make up for the sedentary life of a researcher, a professor, and a scientist. Mohinder also never really knows when to run. He waits too late or he goes too quickly, before he can even identify the danger. It's not exactly Peter's fault, then, that he leaves Mohinder behind.

Sometimes the Indian is just too busy staring at something 'interesting' or 'important' when the fight or flight response ought to kick in.

Much taller than he is, Mohinder has to hurry to keep up with Peter. He'd rather not find themselves separated again. What might have happened if Mohinder hadn't called Peter back from the Ferris wheel?

He ends up taking hold of Peter's elbow for a moment as they come to a stop in the 'lobby' of the fun house. There's an old stand by the door where the operator use to control the ride and take tickets. It's half pushed over. The wires are exposed. This shouldn't be working.

"She might be further in," Jack says through the earpiece.

"Really? Do you fancy coming down here and going in to have a look, Jack? Maybe going as far into the deep dark monster tunnel for us?" Peter snarked, unable to help himself. He loved Jack, he really did. Great bloke, fantastic singing voice and wonderful in bed. But he still found him grating in moments like this when tensions were high and more was being asked of them. Peter never did do overly well with just doing what he was told.

Came from being a DI, he supposed, and setting all his own rules. He didn't usually follow orders, he gave them to his unfortunate underlings. He wasn't a natural leader, just a lazy man who didn't like leg work.

And now that was all his job seemed to be.

As they moved past the ticket taker, he carefully avoided any loose hanging wires and slipped into what seemed to be a very long dark tunnel. Great. Just great. As he moved into the darkness, moving slow so Mohinder could keep up, he watched the darkness carefully.

Till he saw something move. "Shit, we're not alone."

"I still can't see anything from Carlisle's contacts," Jack says, after having ignored the Scot's snarky comments about helping out. Jack would be there in a heartbeat if he could. He's much better facing danger, but the thought of helping whatever haunting this place to grow worse is enough to cause him to slip back into the stance of General.

You watch the battle from the hill. You direct. You try not to care too much about the individual troops. Cruel, yes. Jack hates it too.

"I don't see anything, Captain," Mohinder says. Well, whispers. The poor man is starting to shake. These things happen. He gives Peter a small nudge and hands over his torch. "I.. I suppose we ought to follow it."

"Well, not like we have any other choice," Peter said as he moved ahead as bravely as he could. He didn't exactly laugh in the face of danger, he usually cried out and ran for it. But he could tell Mohinder was scared and hell, what sort of man would he be if he didn't try to be the one who stuck this out? Maybe if he kept his cool, it'd reassure his partner.

Used to work when he teamed up with Sammy... but then Sammy was mental so maybe that wasn't the best example.

Laughter echoes through the tunnels and a strange music started as they ended up in what seemed to be a hall of mirrors, their own reflections greeting them. Only distorted. Okay, that was not going to end well, Peter already knew that. So he made a move to keep walking forward and not look at his reflection.

"I always always hated the hall of mirrors."

That very small show of backbone is all Mohinder had needed. He smiles at Peter's back, momentarily, and then follows after him. They are close enough to touch, or if Peter needs to, pull a Scooby Do and jump into his Mohinder's arms.

It's bad enough knowing that you're being funneled into a track. There's little room for deviation and if they suddenly need to leave, there's really no way to. Oh, there are emergency exit signs everywhere but Mohinder already knows that the doors will be locked. That's just the way that these things tend to go!

"Why?" he asks, keeping his voice low, as Peter expresses his dismay at the reflections. He'd not found Peter unattractive at all, though he didn't bare for the beard he sometimes sprouted when he thought it might be fun to be lazy with a razor. "Do you not like to look at yourself, or is it the maze?"

Jack's voice pipes up in his ear: "See, this is why I couldn't send Owen. He'd be too busy preening."

"It's unnatural, isn't it? To look at yourself. I'm not a bad looking bloke, just don't like it. It's creepy. I'm always waiting for my mirror self to move on it's own or something," Peter complained, pulling a face at the very idea. He didn't have many confidence issues, he was just not comfortable with the idea of mirrors. They weirded him out. Hence why he was happy to sometime skip shaving.

He rolled his eyes when Owen rose to the bait over the ear-piece, never able to let the little insults slide. "Couldn't send you in either, Harkness. You'd spend all your time trying to seduce your reflection."

"Children, please. Me and Mohinder are about to be killed by a spooky monster. A little quiet and respect here?" Ah, doesn't Peter paint an optimistic picture of their future? Thank God he wasn't the one that had to give the team speeches. Or things might not always be as inspirational.

Peter turned his head, making sure his reflection was copying him. He didn't need it coming to life!

Edited 2013-11-02 18:42 (UTC)