darker_london | The Tirade (Peter, Klaus)

"How dare you?!" Peter yelled the second he charged into the room. Klaus hadn't even turned around yet. "How dare you insult my child!!" Anger had competely take over any fear he had in facing his father and now he was just fucking pissed off.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Klaus mumbled, turning to face his son.

"Lydia says you called her a bastard!"

"Peter, she is a bastard." Klaus crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "I cannot be blamed that you had a child out of wedlock."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Peter shook his head and then he pointed harshly at Klaus. "I didn't ask you to come here, and now you're here insulting my wife and children and so help me God I will throw you out of this house if you do it again!"

Klaus looked shocked. This was not the passive Peter he remembered. That Peter would have whined and slunk away to mumble in a corner. This was someone else altogether. "Peter-"

"I'm not fucking finished!" Peter yelled, on a roll now. Insulting Lydia had been the catalyst, and now everything Peter felt was coming out in a long cascade of hurt feelings and repression. "I hate that you're here! I hate that you can judge me and that I care what you say. Because I do, even if I don't want to admit it. I hate that you killed yourself when I was fourteen before I had a chance to prove that I'm not a fuck up. I hate that you never gave me a chance to prove that before you died. I hate that your death killed Mum because she didn't treat me like an outcast! I hate that you are horrible to Liz even though she's one of the most talented, kind and intelligent people I know! I hate that you held it against us when we reacted to Margaret's death, because you weren't the only one that loved her you complete arse! And now that I have everything together and my life is exactly how I like it, you show up and criticise it! I help people and I have a hospital and the things I have survived -including cancer- would have killed most people, and you still have the nerve to fixate on things that don't matter! You're the one who couldn't be happy while he was alive, not me! I am happy, dammit! So back the fuck off!" Peter finished yelling them, breathing heavily from the effort it took to yell for so long when he wasn't usually someone who maintained anger longer than thirty seconds. He believed everything he said, and while it had come out slightly adolescent, he was proud of himself for saying it anyway. It had needed to be said for a long time now.

Klaus watched Peter with sad eyes and when Peter's tirade ended, he simply shrugged. "You're right." He admitted quietly. "I don't know you. I don't know your family. I have no right to judge you."

"Damn right you don't." Peter paused for a moment. "But you're allowed to get to know me."

Klaus' response was quiet. ALmost a murmur. "I'd like that."

"Good then. So would I. Fuck, I need tea." And Peter rushed into the kitchen. He felt like the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders, and celebratory tea was warranted for that. And it was that or drink scotch and everyone knew where that would lead. That would lead to Peter becoming Klaus. And now, staring Klaus in the face as an adult, Peter wanted that even less than he had before.