darker_london | The yarn of EVIL (Peter, Baby Thomas, Liz, Aly)

Perhaps the most frustrating dream to have, was a dream where you received no clues at all. At least that was Peter's view on things. He saw terribly disturbing things in his dreams. Demons and Templar torturing people...or himself. Bodies twisted into unnatural positions to mock God. Rivers of blood. London burning. And the occasional dancing penguin, though so far he was glad that that one hadn't come true, though he would be much happier if none of them had come to pass.

Now however, he saw nothing. He was surrounded by blackness, which was filled only by the sound of screams. Something was keeping him from the light, and he didn't understand why. Someone needed his help, and he had no way of knowing who. In the dream, he even thought of stumbling around the dark room in search of a wall switch to turn on the lights...yes, dream Peter was very resourceful. But there was no wall to be found. And no switch upon it, even if there was. There was a reason he was blocked from the vision and that wasn't likely to change any time soon.

Peter was in the middle of writing about how very aggravating it all was when Aly and Elizabeth entered his bedroom, their arms filled with yarn. Peter looked up at them, slightly distressed, and forgetting completely about he previous annoyance and his furious scribbling. "Er...what...what are you doing?" Peter pointed his pen at his big sister in an accusatory manner. "What are you doing to my wife?! With yarn?!" This was a hostile take-over, this was.

"She's teaching me to knit, Peter!" Aly said with a grin, sounding far too excited about that in Peter's opinion. Aly didn't knit. "I want to make tiny little baby clothes because they're darling! And I can do scarves, but that's different."

"She's...knit...you know how to knit?" Peter looked at Liz, incredulously. Liz didn't knit either, or so Peter believed. And Liz and Aly combined was dangerous. They were going to knit scary things, he just knew it. Oh god, they were going to knit a hat with horns on and make him wear it!!

"My skills are many and varied." Liz said dryly. She dumped the yarn on the bed and she began sorting it out. "I can teach you too if you want, Peter."

"Oh yes, that'd complete the look, me sitting there behind my desk at the hospital, all crazy-haired and knitting. They might lock me up... Especially when I gave them the crazy-eyes and announce loudly, 'It's fer me children, lookit alllll the colours!'"

Aly laughed and she picked out a nice blue colour from the pile on the bed. "I want to make Thomas a shirt out of this!"

Peter watched them both silently and then he cleared his throat. He feared this... "If either of you knit me a sweater with my initials on it or any other kind of saying, especially in reference to the clergy, you're both fired..."

"Awww, I wanted to make one that said, 'Father Peter-Big Whiner'!" Aly winked at him. "Don't worry, Peter, I only have an attention span long enough to make tiny things. Oooh, like booties."

"Oh god..." Peter stood from the desk and he moved into the nursery where baby Thomas was just stirring from his sleep. "Ah, your mother's going to booty you up, Son. Here, I'll protect you while I can." Thomas smiled sleepily at his father and he raised his arms indicating that he wanted up. Peter stepped over to the crib, and he lifted the tiny boy into his arms. "Come on, let's go be manly together while we have the chance. We can watch Monster Trucks."

From in the bedroom, Liz laughed. "Peter, do you even know what channel Monster Trucks would be on?" Liz was very well aware that Peter had never laid eyes on a Monster Truck in the whole of his life.

"Er...the man...channel?" Peter suggested, stepping back into the bedroom. He watched them both for a reaction and then he sighed. "Oh, fine. Save me some pink yarn, I'll make tiny little booties later." Sometimes it was better to join them. Especially when you already sort of were one anyway. And specifically if the alternative was you waking up one morning with a knitting needle in your ear while wearing a sweater that read, 'pwned'.