http://father-peter.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
father-peter.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
darker_london2009-06-17 11:00 am
father-peter.livejournal.com) wrote in darker_london2009-06-17 11:00 am
Entry tags:
Descent (Thomas, Peter)
No matter how hard they tried, Peter and Thomas couldn’t find a way out of the tiny cell they had been confined to through the inexplicable acts of ghosts. The door had no give, and the walls were made of stone. They were going to have to wait until Mary and Svetlana clawed themselves out of the corner of the room they’d been sequestered to, and Peter didn’t even know if that was going to happen. If Svetlana had been injured, she wouldn’t be able to heal herself until she could take Peter’s soul. And if she couldn’t reach Peter because of all the rubble in the way, then she wouldn’t have the strength to move it or bust them out… And Peter was frantic for her, and he knew Thomas was frantic for Mary. Which certainly did not help.
What also did not help, was the fact that Thomas' mental state was rapidly deteriorating. Peter could tell just by looking at him, even if Thomas was trying his best to hide it. The cell they were locked in was far too small for even one person. And while neither Thomas nor Peter were going to complain about being close to each other, this was very different. Peter was quite claustrophobic himself and the only reason he wasn't completely lost to panic was Thomas' presence, even as close to freak out as he was.
“How are you going?” Thomas asked, looking closely into Peter’s eyes.
“I’m alright,” Peter replied, much in a way that he knew Thomas would read immediately as ‘I’m hungry, uncomfortable, cold and terrified, but I am not going to complain to you about it because I can see you're on the edge already’. “Something will happen. We'll be alright.”
Thomas groaned and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Peter, maybe you should have some of the crisps? Do you think that would help?”
Peter’s stomach grumbled an affirmative and he reached his hand out so Thomas could give him the bag. “Do you want some, Thomas?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Thomas fixed Peter with what was almost a glare and Peter felt himself recoil slightly as he placed the bag of crisps in his lap. “I’m not going to take your food, Peter.”
“I was jus...o..okay. Okay, Thomas.” Peter ate some of the crisps quietly, though he was incredibly self-conscious about the loud crunching sound they made, echoing off the stone in the silence. He knew Thomas couldn’t feel hunger anymore, and he was grateful for that. But Thomas was watching him and he had no doubt that the poor man was suffering from flashbacks to his recent captivity at the hands of Amaris. Peter felt intensely guilty for eating in front of a man who had been so recently starved, whether he could feel hunger or not. Peter tried to hold the crisps in his mouth until the softened, but that was kind of gross, so he just crunched away, the tips of his ears turning red with self-consciousness.
Thomas sat in his corner and Peter didn't notice him pulling at his shirt right away. He did notice, however, when Thomas pulled his shirt off completely. "Thomas, what are you doing?" Peter put the bag aside and he moved forward as best he could in the cramped space.
"I can't...Peter, I can't breathe." Thomas gave Peter a desperate look and Peter could see that his best friend was sweating heavily, despite the fact that it was freezing where they were. Peter was sure that was thanks to the ghosts in the town, considering it was June.
"Thomas...you don't have to breathe." Peter moved to Thomas' side and he placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder. "You're alright."
"No...no, Peter. Peter, I have to get out. Please. I'm going to have to watch you suffer and I can't, I need to get out. Please. Let me go so I can get out?"
Peter bit his lip and without saying anything else, he just wrapped his arms around Thomas. It was all he could do. He couldn't let Thomas go, nor could he fix their current situation. What he could to was remind his best friend that he was here, and that Thomas was not in the hands of Amaris. They were going to be okay.
"Fuck, Peter..." Thomas buried his face in Peter's shoulder and he curled up there. At the very least, they could keep each other warm.
What also did not help, was the fact that Thomas' mental state was rapidly deteriorating. Peter could tell just by looking at him, even if Thomas was trying his best to hide it. The cell they were locked in was far too small for even one person. And while neither Thomas nor Peter were going to complain about being close to each other, this was very different. Peter was quite claustrophobic himself and the only reason he wasn't completely lost to panic was Thomas' presence, even as close to freak out as he was.
“How are you going?” Thomas asked, looking closely into Peter’s eyes.
“I’m alright,” Peter replied, much in a way that he knew Thomas would read immediately as ‘I’m hungry, uncomfortable, cold and terrified, but I am not going to complain to you about it because I can see you're on the edge already’. “Something will happen. We'll be alright.”
Thomas groaned and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Peter, maybe you should have some of the crisps? Do you think that would help?”
Peter’s stomach grumbled an affirmative and he reached his hand out so Thomas could give him the bag. “Do you want some, Thomas?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Thomas fixed Peter with what was almost a glare and Peter felt himself recoil slightly as he placed the bag of crisps in his lap. “I’m not going to take your food, Peter.”
“I was jus...o..okay. Okay, Thomas.” Peter ate some of the crisps quietly, though he was incredibly self-conscious about the loud crunching sound they made, echoing off the stone in the silence. He knew Thomas couldn’t feel hunger anymore, and he was grateful for that. But Thomas was watching him and he had no doubt that the poor man was suffering from flashbacks to his recent captivity at the hands of Amaris. Peter felt intensely guilty for eating in front of a man who had been so recently starved, whether he could feel hunger or not. Peter tried to hold the crisps in his mouth until the softened, but that was kind of gross, so he just crunched away, the tips of his ears turning red with self-consciousness.
Thomas sat in his corner and Peter didn't notice him pulling at his shirt right away. He did notice, however, when Thomas pulled his shirt off completely. "Thomas, what are you doing?" Peter put the bag aside and he moved forward as best he could in the cramped space.
"I can't...Peter, I can't breathe." Thomas gave Peter a desperate look and Peter could see that his best friend was sweating heavily, despite the fact that it was freezing where they were. Peter was sure that was thanks to the ghosts in the town, considering it was June.
"Thomas...you don't have to breathe." Peter moved to Thomas' side and he placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder. "You're alright."
"No...no, Peter. Peter, I have to get out. Please. I'm going to have to watch you suffer and I can't, I need to get out. Please. Let me go so I can get out?"
Peter bit his lip and without saying anything else, he just wrapped his arms around Thomas. It was all he could do. He couldn't let Thomas go, nor could he fix their current situation. What he could to was remind his best friend that he was here, and that Thomas was not in the hands of Amaris. They were going to be okay.
"Fuck, Peter..." Thomas buried his face in Peter's shoulder and he curled up there. At the very least, they could keep each other warm.