Himself (Aly, Peter)

[father-peter.livejournal.com]

Peter was lying in his bed, trying not to move. He didn't even have enough energy to read more of his mother's Dear, Virginia letters. All he could really do was stare. Deirdre had sat with him in the morning, but she had had errands to run and she had left him alone, promising to return in the evening.

Aly had decided she was now brave enough to face a visit with Peter, and she entered the house, taking note of the unusual quietness that surrounded her. It was so strange, and she hoped that Peter was doing okay here with just Deirdre for company.

When Aly entered their bedroom, Peter glanced over at her and he managed a tired but happy smile. "Hello, Beautiful." He said, his voice full of love. He was having another lucid day, and Aly could tell from his demeanor at once. She was in no danger here today. Her Peter was just that. "How's David?"

It took Aly a moment to realise why Peter was asking, but the she remembered he believed she was staying with David to take care of him, and not to ensure that Peter didn't accidentally have an episode that harmed her or the children. "He's alright. Very sad, but he's working on his issues. I want to have a chat with Christina soon, because I want her to understand that David really does love her, he's just messed up, but I don't want David to know I'm intending to do it." Aly sat down on the matress beside him and she took his hand in hers.

"I'm glad." Peter said, and he didn't have the energy to elaborate as to what. "I missed you."

"I miss you too." Aly leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Are you feeling poorly today, poor thing?"

Peter let out a slow breath. "You know...at this point, I'd almost rather...nevermind." Peter didn't feel like saying he'd rather just die, and it wasn't necessarily true, but he felt so positively horrid that it wasn't far off. "It's...aauugghhhh. I thought the Templar were bad..."

Aly raised her eyebrows. Considering the Templar had tortured Peter for days, leaving him utterly incapacitated, he was saying a lot in saying that. "Oh, Peter..."

"Only a few more weeks." Peter said, his voice laced with desperation. "I'll be done in a few weeks. And then things will be fine." He knew they wouldn't. But he was too scared to admit that. "Do you have time, Aly? Do you need to be getting back or can you stay for a little while?"

"I can stay." Aly said, smiling warmly at him. She climbed up into the bed so he could lean against her, which he did the absolute second it was possible. "Of course I can stay. Do you need me to get you anything?"

"No." Peter whispered. He wouldn't have been able to keep anything down anyway, and even the smell of his medicinal marijuana had made him sick yesterday which had meant he was pretty much screwed as far as eating went until he began to feel a little less ill in a day or two. "All I need is you."

Aly slid her hand up his arm and she kissed his head again, so relieved that he was here and himself and even if he was suffering, she had him with her. "Oh, Darling. The same goes for you." Soon she might have to face a reality without him. But that time wasn't now.