darker_london | Sad Breakfast (Peter, Jeremy)

Peter made his way down the stairs and into the basement guest room, even while carrying a tray of breakfast his wife had supplied him with to give to Jeremy. Apparently it was little matter that Peter himself was hungry. She wanted him to feed Jeremy first. Peter was fairly sure his brother was still asleep, and he grumbled about that the entire way down, though his ire was half-hearted. If Jeremy was awake, of course he wanted to feed the man.

He pushed the door open with a bare foot to find Jeremy sprawled on the bed face-down, one arm and leg hanging precariously over the side. Peter shook his head and he went to set the tray of food on the antique dressing table, and he didn't turn around to face his brother until he had sneakily stolen a triangle of toast and gobbled it down. A few buttery crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips as he said, "I really hope you haven't smothered yourself there, Jere..."

"Murgh?" Jeremy blinked and then he groaned and tried his hardest to burrow under the pillow. Peter stepped over to the blinds on the high window and he closed them most of the way so the morning sunshine wouldn't explode Jeremy's head.

"I thought you might have some trouble this morning," Peter commented wryly. "Aly sent you down some hangover food." Guilty, Peter wiped at the corners of his mouth. "There's coffee too."

"I know, I can smell it," Jeremy grumbled from under the pillow, his voice muffled and strange. "Peter. I'm dying."

"No, you're not." While Peter was entirely sympathetic about the reason for Jeremy's drinking binge, he was incredibly jealous that his brother could even go on a drinking binge without everyone having hissy fits and threatening to send him to a 12-step program. Meddlers. Meddlers he loved, but meddlers all the same.

"Come on, Jere. You can't stay down here. Aly made breakfast and she said if you didn't eat it, she would come down here and shove it down your throat. She also called you Betty? I didn't get it..." As glad as he was that his wife and his brother were so close, sometimes their antics confused the hell out of him. It made sense. They were both a great deal younger than he was...

Jeremy pulled the pillow away from his face and he stared up at Peter, squinty-eyed and pale. "Aauuuggghhhhh."

"Yes, I know." Peter sat down on the edge of the bed now that Jeremy wasn't half-falling off of it. He patted his brother's shoulder and he stared at the sunlight, trying it's hardest to break through the blinds. "I did exactly what you did when I lost one of the twins, Jeremy. Lauren...she had a twin, and then the baby was just...gone. And I thought alcohol would help, but it didn't. I damn near lost everything..." Peter sighed. "I left myself wide open to angelic suggestion and this angel kept...visiting my dreams? She somehow convinced herself that she could get Aly away from me and when it didn't work, she showed up here looking like me, and she beat Aly up. And I had been so....not myself, the people I loved believed I was capable of that. God, if Thomas hadn't seen me that day, I don't know what would have happened. I don't think anyone would have believed me. I was so drunk, why would they?"

"Peter?" Jeremy muttered, sounding like he had a dying cat stuck in his throat.

"Yes?"

"No pep talks. Not today."

Peter sighed inwardly, but he nodded. "Alright. You should come upstairs anyway. Or at least eat breakfast here. My wife is holding my stomach for ransom, and if you don't eat, I'm going to bite you in revenge."

At that, Jeremy chuckled, and Peter was glad for it, even if the man's face schooled itself into a look of pain a moment later. "Is that what brothers do?" he asked, amused.

"I don't know," Peter admitted. "You're the only one I ever had." At least Jeremy was the only blood brother he had ever had. "But it's what Liz does."

Jeremy nodded and he reached out so Peter could help him up. He was topless, but Peter was glad to see he was still wearing trousers. "I think I'll come upstairs. Hiding down here won't help."

Peter's smile was immediate and relieved. This was more than he would have done in the wake of losing his child. He had been...utterly broken and no one had really wanted to be around him and that was something he had been fine with at the time. Jeremy was chosing to be with them. It was encouraging. "I'll carry the food back upstairs. I...should probably help you get a shirt on first..."

"Mmm."

It took them several minutes, but eventually they made their way up the stairs together, with no food spilled, and the coffee still where it belonged in it's mug. When Jeremy appeared at the top of the stairs, Aly stopped preparing Caleb's lunch and she bounded over to him. "Betty!"

"Hey, Alyona!" Jeremy gave her a gentle hug, though it was himself he was preserving. Aly was not a frail woman. Not anymore. "Peter tells me you're starving him?"

"Oh pfft," Aly said, tossing her husband an amused look. He returned the favour by looking as much like an abused puppy as he could. "Your breakfast is on the table, you baby."

Peter grinned and he moved to kiss her forehead. "Silly, Alyona. You slipped an unnecessary 'you' into what you just said."

Aly laughed at Peter and she grinned back at him. "Yes, yes, your breakfast is on the table, baby."

"Why thank you! Would you like to join me, Jeremy?"

Jeremy nodded, but then he looked towards the kitchen door. "Is Lydia here?"

"She's getting ready for school," Peter nodded. "Apparently today is super-important because today is when they are wearing purple headbands and she wants it to look just right," Peter shrugged. "You know...when I was in secondary school, I never wore headbands."

Jeremy laughed, and he took the cup of coffee into his hands. "Too bad, you would have looked real pretty," he took a deep swig of the dark liquid and then he smiled. Peter was glad to see his brother returning to him though now he was worried it was happening too quickly and Jeremy was repressing. Oh how trauma was not fun.

"Having Lydia and Anna..." Peter cut himself off. He had almost said having his girls made up for it, but he quickly amended his statement to a less agonising, "...do my hair makes up for it. They like decorating me."

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, but he said nothing. He wasn't hurt by Peter's statement. Merely imagining Peter with his hair done. It was probably doing his head in. Peter understood.

Before Peter could offer to fetch his daughter, Lydia barreled her way into the kitchen and when she spotted her uncle, she ran to him immediately. "Jeremy!" she cried out, and Peter watched as Jeremy winced at the sound, but held his arms out for his niece anyway. "Hi!"

"Did you come to visit?" Lydia asked, clearly pleased.

"For a while," Jeremy reached out and he gave her headband a little tweak, though not enough to displace it. He lived with a woman, he knew not to mess with their hair. "Your hair looks beautiful."

"Thank you!" Lydia beamed.

Peter set about getting Lydia some breakfast and then he herded his brother and his daughter towards the table while Aly continued to make the lunches for the rest of the school-aged children. "Uncle Jeremy," Lydia said as she drowned her french toast in syrup. "Guess what?! My best friend is on telly and I think I'm going to be on this week's episode because we totes went swimming with our clothes on!"

Peter looked amused and he shot his brother a 'they do what they will' look. Jeremy laughed and he pointed at Lydia. "I'll be sure to watch it. You'll tell me when, right?"

"Oh my god, totally," Lydia nodded. "This girl at school like really hates it when I'm on telly so I have to tell her today too," Lydia grinned triumphantly. "Mum, this french toast is awesomecakes!"

Aly chuckled and she winked at Lydia. "Well thank you, honey."

"Mmmm I could eat twelve pieces but I have to go!" She shoved the rest of the french toast in her mouth, kissed the adults goodbye, and charged out of the kitchen.

Jeremy turned to Peter, his expression sober and sad. "You're really lucky, Peter," he said before looking down at the plate of food he wasn't going to eat.

Peter, who had pretty much lost his appetite too, nodded behind his hands. "I know, Jeremy. I know."