Placeholder to remind me to write Peter and Sad Thomas and bedsiecuddletimes.
Zoe took a taxi back to Cai's to pick him up. He didn't want to take the car today; he didn't trust himself to drive. Not after Zoe told him what they were going to be doing. They sat in the back of the taxi together and didn't touch and barely talked.

"It's going to be really bad, isn't it?" Cai asked, though he'd seen Peter's warning. Of course it was going to be bad.

... )
daniel_marlow: (Seriously worried)
Considering how horrified Danny had been after his nightmare, Cai's attempts to cheer him up with his antics were much appreciated. It hadn't made him smile like it might have on a normal day, but it had made him feel a little less panicky about the world in general.

Still, by the time fifteen minutes had passed, Danny was waiting outside for Cai's car, his arms wrapped around his chest as he paced the footpath. What he hadn't expected, and what froze his blood in his veins for a moment, was hearing his name called by a voice he didn't immediately recognise.

Shit )
Peter hated MRIs, he decided. Technically he had decided this several MRIs ago, but he was rudely reminded every time he slid into the vile machine and it beeped viciously at him. Then he would listen to inane music on his iPod for twenty minutes while he tried to ignore the jackhammer-like sound the machine made as it worked.

Still, it was better than as stereotactic biopsy. God he hoped he didn't have to have another one of those.

When it was all over he jumped up and pulled his own clothes on, discarding the hospital gown in the 'used' bin with gusto. The results would take awhile and all he really wanted to do was drink which wasn't entirely helpful.

Instead of giving in to the delicious amber liquid he really wanted, Peter went in search of someone to talk at. Perhaps he could find one of the Littletons who worked at his hospital, or even one of the residents who felt like a chat. Upon entering the residency ward, Peter spotted Charles Allen and lifted a hand in greeting. "Hello, Charles. You're looking well."
Abby opened the door to the Kemp's house and then she glanced at Peter who was standing beside her, swaying slightly. She had found him before he had finished too much of the bottle, but he still wore a hangdog expression as she took his arm and led him into the house.

Aly Kemp was seated on the sofa just surrounded by children. William, Rasputina and Tommy were playing with blocks at her feet and she was reading Lauren a book while the tiny girl fussed in her arms. She looked up when Abby walked in with her husband, and she clearly recognised the look he was giving her immediately. "Oh goodness. Did you have to drive him home?" she asked, rising to her feet and hefting Lauren onto her hip.

I KNOW SEKRITS )
After having tea with Thomas, Peter excused himself to head to the hospital.

If these headaches he was having recently really were a recurrence of his brain tumours, he was going to have to go through a lot of crap before he was better. There might be chemo and pain and surgery again, or they could decide not to treat like the first time he had had it. The cancer had run its course and Peter had been unable to remember his family or even who he was by the end of it.

Decay )
Having once been an angel, Peter could sense when other angels and even demons were near. It was a handy ability, even if the power wasn't strong enough to tell one supernatural being from another. Deirdre could tell at once if a supernatural that was nearby was someone she knew or someone she didn't. All Peter knew was that out of nowhere there was a demon suddenly somewhere in his home. And just in case it wasn't a friendly demon like Deirdre, Peter was going to go seek the demon out alone.

Reminders )
The town of Mic Oraş in Romania was a pious little town, well out of the way of the beaten path. Or any path. It was a Romanian Catholic town in the midst of a country which was predominantly Romanian Orthodox, and the inhabitants tended to keep to themselves. The town itself was so pious, that after ten at night, no one wandered the streets, save for the Night Watch. The villagers slumbered, knowing their well-being was attended to. They would not be robbed or harmed in the night.

A Complicated Rescue )
The town of Mic Oraş in Romania was a pious little town, well out of the way of the beaten path. Or any path. It was a Romanian Catholic town in the midst of a country which was predominantly Romanian Orthodox, and the inhabitants tended to keep to themselves. The town itself was so pious, that after ten at night, no one wandered the streets, save for the Night Watch. The villagers slumbered, knowing their well-being was attended to. They would not be robbed or harmed in the night.

A Complicated Rescue )
Peter was exhausted. He had been relaying messages back and forth between Jerome and Saul and Dead Meat contacts everywhere, as well as playing Daddy and Hospital Owner and Friend and every single one of the other roles he fulfilled on a daily basis. So when his wife Aly found him standing in their kitchen pantry looking lost, she wasn't terribly surprised.

Great Timing )
Peter was exhausted. He had been relaying messages back and forth between Jerome and Saul and Dead Meat contacts everywhere, as well as playing Daddy and Hospital Owner and Friend and every single one of the other roles he fulfilled on a daily basis. So when his wife Aly found him standing in their kitchen pantry looking lost, she wasn't terribly surprised.

Great Timing )
Flynn had created seven piles of jelly beans, separated into colour. He was trying random combinations of the colours, playing the mismatched flavour game he usually played with Quinn, only this time it was one-sided. Sure, it was ever-so-slightly sad, but there wasn't much else to do. He was solitaired out. "Blech!" Flynn screwed his face up as he lifted it to glance at his unconscious husband. "Green and pink taste like arse, Babe."

View of Hell )
Flynn had created seven piles of jelly beans, separated into colour. He was trying random combinations of the colours, playing the mismatched flavour game he usually played with Quinn, only this time it was one-sided. Sure, it was ever-so-slightly sad, but there wasn't much else to do. He was solitaired out. "Blech!" Flynn screwed his face up as he lifted it to glance at his unconscious husband. "Green and pink taste like arse, Babe."

View of Hell )
Raiding the Templar hideout in the Xinjiang province of China ended up being far easier than any of them had expected. Thanks to the information from the Chinese branch of Dead Meat, as well as the information Jerome had ‘extracted’ from Dragonetti, the hideout had been remarkably easy to find. And when they had arrived, ready for a fight, they found the place empty.

DAMN! )
Raiding the Templar hideout in the Xinjiang province of China ended up being far easier than any of them had expected. Thanks to the information from the Chinese branch of Dead Meat, as well as the information Jerome had ‘extracted’ from Dragonetti, the hideout had been remarkably easy to find. And when they had arrived, ready for a fight, they found the place empty.

DAMN! )
Peter looked up from his work when he heard someone open his door. The person hadn't knocked, and Peter wasn't surprised at all to see his younger brother standing there with a roguish smile on his face. "Hey, Petes! What are you doing?"

The first step's a doozy... )
Peter looked up from his work when he heard someone open his door. The person hadn't knocked, and Peter wasn't surprised at all to see his younger brother standing there with a roguish smile on his face. "Hey, Petes! What are you doing?"

The first step's a doozy... )
Peter made his way down the stairs and into the basement guest room, even while carrying a tray of breakfast his wife had supplied him with to give to Jeremy. Apparently it was little matter that Peter himself was hungry. She wanted him to feed Jeremy first. Peter was fairly sure his brother was still asleep, and he grumbled about that the entire way down, though his ire was half-hearted. If Jeremy was awake, of course he wanted to feed the man.

Vicarious Children )
Peter made his way down the stairs and into the basement guest room, even while carrying a tray of breakfast his wife had supplied him with to give to Jeremy. Apparently it was little matter that Peter himself was hungry. She wanted him to feed Jeremy first. Peter was fairly sure his brother was still asleep, and he grumbled about that the entire way down, though his ire was half-hearted. If Jeremy was awake, of course he wanted to feed the man.

Vicarious Children )
Peter knew it was Jeremy before he even opened the door. Even Jeremy's knock sounded drunk, and no one else would bother to show up here in such a state. They knew Peter was an alcoholic, and surely didn't need a lovely reminder of his addiction thrown into his face. Jeremy, however, didn't find alcoholism to be a bad thing and he wasn't about to avoid his brother because he had been drinking. Peter found he had to grin and bear it. Jeremy was his blood. He wouldn't turn the man away.

Brotherly Love )

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