darker_london | Good Advice (Thomas, Peter) (Reply)

Peter had seen Saul to his room and made sure he was comfortable, and then he had made sure Katherine was alright. Aly and MaryAnne helped him put the kids to bed, but Peter couldn't sleep. He had slept well the night before, but now he was incredibly preoccupied by the fact that he didn't appear to be able to type, and he'd been noticing it was harder to concentrate lately. He put that down to stress. Things did seem to be culminating in a rather annoying fashion of late. And he had slipped and had a few drinks, but even that...when he had been sick with the brain tumour, he had acted completely out of character and he'd spent days drinking...something he hadn't done since before Lydia was born.

He had escaped to the roof to do some very naughty smoking, something he wasn't supposed to do anymore now that he could die of lung cancer. But he needed something to steady his nerves. He wasn't surprised in the least when Thomas appeared at the window frame, ducking out onto the roof from the attic. In fact, he had expected Thomas to come sooner. "You're late." Peter observed quietly. "But I'm glad to see you."

Thomas made at face at Peter's smoking, but he walked over and plopped himself down beside his best friend anyway. "You make the outside smell." He said, his voice showing his distaste.

"Yes well...smelly outsides means calmer insides." Peter sighed and he took a deep drag off his cigarette before butting it out on the roof. Thomas was mortal now too and he certainly wasn't about to make his best friend inhale second hand smoke if he didn't want to. "I'm sorry I flipped out when you asked if I'd been drinking."

"It's okay, Peter. I knew it was you freaking out about you and not flipping out at me." Thomas shifted uncomfortably and then he leaned backwards and stared up at the sky. "I'm worried."

"Me too." Peter admitted. "God, Thomas...I hope I'm just goin' mad." Peter let out a shaky breath and then he leaned back against the roof as well, beside his best friend. "I hope it's just stress. I...Thomas I've slipped a few times. I've had a few drinks, but honestly, I didn't have any today. Not in the past week. Not since...well I drank when Katherine showed up, but not since then."

"Oh, Peter." Thomas reached out for Peter's hand and the second it was in his, Peter's hand tightened around Thomas'. "Do you think it would be a good idea to get this checked out?"

"Like last time? Fuck, Thomas, I died a year ago, in a week. If this is...I-" Peter closed his eyes and he realised he had no words. Abby had warned him that the disease recurred and usually within five years. But the fact that his entire brain had healed itself had made Peter think he didn't need to worry. That and he was immortal. He had been. He wasn't anymore. Peter was terrified, but he didn't want it to show. He knew Thomas knew anyway. Peter never had to tell what he felt to Thomas. Thomas always knew.

"Peter, if you're sick again, we'll deal with it. We'll see you come out victorious on the other side, just like last time. And if you're not sick again, we'll nip this drinking thing in the bud stat." Thomas leaned over and he kissed Peter's forehead, and he gave Peter's hand a squeeze. "At least if you go, we'll know. Alright?"

Peter sighed and then he nodded. "Alright. We'll know. It'll be good to know. Thank you. Thank you, Thomas."

"Of course, Peter."

Both of them lapsed into silence then, afraid to keep talking about what might happen tomorrow. They just lay there, under the moon, silently, holding on to each other for dear life, afraid to let go.