Choose (Peter, Aly, and then Tasha)
Apr. 28th, 2009 08:18 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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darker_londonPeter was done waiting. He was done wallowing and wailing. If Aly was going to fight him, he was going to fight back. Fight for their relationship. And not because he felt like she entirely deserved that right now, but his children did. Caleb did. Peter had watched as the boy became increasingly terrified that his parents divorcing would lead to him never seeing one of them, not to mention his sisters, ever again. Peter wasn't going to let that happen because he was busy sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
The hospital Aly was staying in made no argument with Peter entering the building. They knew he was Aly's husband and frankly they wondered why he wasn't here more often. Feeling dreadfully determined and afraid of being waylaid, Peter charged right into Aly's room. To find her topless, as she had currently been changing out of her pajamas. "Peter!" She squeaked, rushing to cover herself with her hands. "What the hell!"
"Oh!" Peter stared at her for a second, the perfect picture of slack-jawed stupor, and then he shook his head. "I'm sorry!" Peter shouted, and he flushed brilliant red. So much for not getting waylaid... "I didn't...I mean, the door wasn't-"
"They tend to frown on mental patients locking the doors so doctors can't get in," Aly snapped. "Can you turn the other way?! Bloody hell."
"Right...right." Peter turned away to let her change, and he felt ridiculous just in doing that. The woman, now behind him, was his wife. But he was certainly not going to stand there and oogle her, especially since he had just barged in to some extent…
"Most people knock," he heard her say over his shoulder. And while he knew she was saying it so he would hear, he ignored her.
"Are you decent?" He asked, still facing the door.
"Sure." Peter turned around then, and he let out a slow breath to slow the pounding of his heart, among other things. Seeing his wife topless for the first time in several months...it wasn't going to not cause a reaction. And that made him even more nervous than he had been on his way up the hall.
"Aly, we need to talk." He said simply then, because that was all there was left to do, really. Get it all out in the open.
"You need more money?" Aly's tone was snarky and she crossed her arms and her eyebrows raised.
"Can you not be rude for five seconds?" Peter hissed, more harshly than he meant to. He was sick of her being horrible to him. Svetlana was right about the fact that he didn't deserve to be treated like trash, though neither did she. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude back. Aly, it's important, and no, it's not about money." Which, of course, had been his in the first place.
Aly looked shocked at his tone, but at least it had the effect of hushing her up. "O..oh?"
Peter leaned against the wall and he looked her over, now that she was appropriately clothed. She was still looking thin, the curves he loved so much having diminished thanks to her self-imposed starvation. But there was colour in her cheeks and she didn't look sickly. It was an improvement. "How are you feeling?"
Aly groaned and she sat down on her bed so she didn't have to stand there awkwardly. "Is that really what you came to talk about, Peter?"
"Yes." Peter nodded. "Sort of. I'm not going to let you shut me out anymore, Aly. I'm your husband. And I understand you need to do certain things for yourself...to get better...but if I was the one doing this to you, you know you would have put your foot down, and then boxed my ears until I said I was sorry five hundred times." Peter gave her a significant look then, that dared her to disagree. She didn't. Even when she was messed up in the head, he knew her better than anyone, with the possible exception of David.
"As your husband, I no longer accept your communication embargo." Aly opened her mouth to speak, but Peter kept right on talking. He was not used to being forceful with her, and it made him feel slightly ill in the pit of his stomach, but he had to do something about this. "Nor do I accept this 'separation' business. So if you want me to keep away...and I mean for real now, you're just going to have to divorce me." Peter pulled a rolled up stack of papers out of his pocket then, and he passed them over to her. He meant it too. They couldn't go on like this, and maybe ultimatums weren't fair, but neither was this. And it wasn't fair to Svetlana, either. "Gabriel made them up this morning. All you have to do is sign." To Peter's credit, he managed to get it all out without his voice shaking once.
Aly took the papers and she looked up at Peter in shock. "Th...these are divorce papers?"
"They are." Peter nodded, and then he pulled a chair over to her bedside so he wasn't towering over her. It seemed to even things out a little between them. "If you want to sign, fine. I'll accept that you don't want to see me anymore and I'll move on-"
"With Svetlana?" Aly said sharply, her eyes flashing.
"That's my business," was Peter's quiet reply. He didn't want poor Svetlana dragged into this. He wouldn't let her be a pawn in Aly's cruel game, if Aly was so dead set on playing. "If you don't want to be married to me anymore, that shouldn't matter to you." Aly looked distraught and Peter threw her a bone. He reached out to gently touch her cheek. "Aly...if you don't want to sign, then don't. This isn't me saying I want a divorce. I don't want one. I will stay with you as long as you want me, nothing would make me happier. But I won't be kept at the end of a rope anymore. Reel me in or set me loose. You decide."
Aly looked at the papers in her hands, and Peter noticed they were shaking. Right then, he knew he had been right about this. And in a moment, all of Aly's insecurities were about to come pouring out. And in them, Peter would understand why she had been so cruel to him since February. He could see in her eyes that she had no intention of signing the papers, and his heart gave a quick flutter of victory and relief, and an instant later, she was sobbing in front of him, and his heart shattered all over again.
"Aly..." Peter slid onto the floor and he closed the distance between them on his knees. He held his arms open to her and she fell into them. Peter closed his eyes, reveling in the sheer joy he felt at just being able to hold her again. There was something so right about it, even when things were so utterly wrong.
"Peter!" Aly sobbed. "Wh...why would you ever want to stay married to me!"
"Oh, Aly. Is that what this has been about?" Peter asked, lacing his fingers into her short hair. "You think I wouldn't want you?"
Aly nodded against his cheek and then she pulled back to look at him, her face red and tear-stained. She rolled and unrolled the stack of papers nervously in her hands. "I can't have any more children and I'm so old, and you're not going to age anymore, and I...I can't...I can't make myself beautiful again!"
Gently, so she didn't think he was still angry with her, Peter took the documents out of her hands and he placed them on the floor beside him so she didn't have to think about them anymore. Then he looked at her, his expression showing nothing but love, and a little worry. "Aly...we have seven children, and if we decided we're insane enough to want more one day, that's what adoption is for. I would never, ever not want you because you can't have any more children. You gave me two beautiful kids. And you gave me Caleb as well. I am grateful to you every day for them. Do you really think I could possibly be so selfish as to demand more for my love?"
"I...no..." Aly looked confused then, but not at his words. She looked confused at herself. "I just...I thought you might want to be with someone who could give you things I can't."
"My darling, Aly." Peter kissed her hands then, and he smiled up at her. "No one can give me more than you do. I'm so sorry I'm not going to grow old with you. I could murder Rolf for making me immortal without asking but...to be fair to him...if he hadn't I wouldn't be growing old at all. And you, my beautiful love, are not old. You're thirty-one. And even when you are eighty-one, I will love you. I love your heart, Aly. I love your fire. I love the way you boss everyone around." Peter smiled fondly. "And I'm not just saying that because if I don't I'll get in trouble. You're amazing. And you are beautiful. Please, Aly...please, don't hurt yourself because you think you have to change for me. When I think that you were suffering...god, Aly, it breaks my heart." And, indeed, the very thought made Peter so emotional, that his throat constricted and his eyes brightened. He did manage not to cry, but only just. "I love you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy." Peter crawled up on the bed beside her and he pressed his face into her hair. "I don't want you to be starving yourself to death in silence because you think you're not good enough for me. That's bollocks. You're good enough. You will always be good enough."
Aly leaned against his chest, and she buried her face there. She was safe in his embrace, and his words reached her, and she cried. She cried out all of her fears and her insecurities. She sobbed about her self-inflicted months of loneliness. She cried for her children, and for the pain she had put Peter through. She cried for all of it.
Peter stayed silent the entire time, though his fingers still slid easily through her silky hair. He kept his arms around her, his grip firm and safe. When she finally spoke again, he listened patiently, as he was well done with being forceful. He had achieved exactly what he set out to achieve. "I just...I hate myself, Peter. I hate myself."
"I know how that feels." Peter said, moving his hand to the back of her neck where he brushed his fingers softly against her skin. "It's terrible. But you have people around you who will love you until you learn to love yourself again. It's not going to happen all at once. Everyone realises that. And no one is going to rush you. That is certainly not what I came here to do today. You should take as long as you need to get better, Aly. I just needed you to know I wasn't going anywhere unless you wanted me too." And then, just to clarify, "you don't...want me to, right?"
"No." Aly shook her head firmly and she inched closer to him at once. "No, no, no. God, I've been...argh. Peter. Peter. My wonderful Peter. I am so...so very sorry." Aly lifted her eyes to meet his, her face the very picture of sorrow. "I can't believe the things I've been saying. The things I've been doing..."
"Aly, we all do things we don't mean. I think one of the hardest things to do is to know our own heart completely. You were feeling hurt and insecure, and you reacted in a way you believed you should. I'm sure we all remember my brilliant plan to push you all away so I didn't endanger you with my presence, as I do happen to be a bit of a demon magnet... That wasn't the most stellar plan on Earth, but I did it anyway. And I'm an alcoholic. I slip. I fuck up. All these kids...and you, it seems...you put me up on this pedestal, but it doesn't exist. We're all the same. We mess up and we work through it. It would be terrible of me to deny you the chance to do that."
Aly sniffled a little and then she reached out for his hand again. "I missed you, Peter. I just...I couldn't stand you leaving me, so I left you."
"It doesn't feel good...to be left." Peter didn't say it to make her feel guilt. He said it to prove he understood. "I think a lot of people do what they can to avoid it."
Aly lowered her eyes again and she leaned against his shoulder. Her fingers traced patterns on his large hands and when she spoke, she sounded both shy and shamed. "You slept with Svetlana?"
"I did." Peter admitted, quite without shame himself. Peter had always considered himself a loyal person, but he also took people at their word and Aly had told him flat out she wanted to separate and see other people. "I didn't do it to hurt you. I was hurting myself. I wish I hadn't, but not because I feel it was wrong. I just...I didn't realise how strongly she felt for me. And if I had, I wouldn't have started it. And I should have ended it sooner, too. I let it go on far too long, because...because I could fall in love with her if I let myself."
"But you love me?" Aly asked, her voice small.
"More than words could express, Beautiful." Peter kissed her temple easily and he felt Aly shiver in his arms. "But you see why I had to come here today. I needed to know. And Svetlana did too."
"Peter? I slept with someone too."
Peter blinked in surprise and he drew back from her, but he wasn't upset, merely surprised. "Erm...that's...how?"
"He worked here." Aly said, looking quite meek. So meek, it was bothering Peter. Something about it didn't sit right.
"Worked. He doesn't anymore?"
Aly shook her head and she enclosed his hand in hers. "Peter...he was my doctor. And, I know it was wrong! But it was after I said I wanted to see other people, and he always made me feel so good about myself- I'm sorry!"
The only reason Peter had a problem with that, was that it sounded like this man had taken advantage of his patient when she was in a vulnerable state. Which was pretty disgusting in his eyes. But Aly hadn't done anything wrong, as far as he could see. Not that he had been pleased with the idea of separation in the first instance... "You don't need to apologise, Aly. We weren't together. You did nothing wrong. Did he...Aly did he hurt you?"
"No." Aly shook her head, and she smiled timidly. "He didn't hurt me. I didn't mind. It was his idea, but I...I liked that he liked me. That he thought I was beautiful. God, that's...pathetic, isn't it?"
"It's nice to be wanted," was all Peter could really say to that. "Did he leave...willingly?"
Aly shook her head and she bit her lip. "Ah, no. Apparently I wasn't the only woman he was having it on with. Which made me feel ridiculously stupid for not realising before..."
Peter leaned in to kiss her hair again and he sighed into it. He breathed in slowly, and the scent of her hair consumed him. "It sounds like we were both lost..."
"Yeah." Aly groaned and she leaned back on the bed, leaving Peter looking slightly surprised at her sudden movement. "God, Peter. How the fuck did this happen?"
"Very, very quickly," he replied, looking bemused. "I'm at fault too. I didn't notice you were feeling poorly until it was probably too late to do anything, because I was preoccupied with Thomas. And I can't apologise enough for that. I am here for you now. And any other time you want me. From now until eternity, alright? You just speak up. The Aly I married never had a problem with that."
Aly chuckled and she rolled her head to it's side so she could see him. "That's true enough. So...we're together? Together again? We won't be with other people?"
"Please?" Peter asked, his voice slightly desperate. "I married you because I rather hoped that would be the way it went for a very long, long time. I never wanted to be with anyone else. And while I have feelings for Svetlana, my feelings for you are...more. Infinitely more." That was, of course, probably because they had had time to develop, and he had cut his relationship with Svetlana short, quite on purpose. He had made a promise to Aly, and he had to try to fix things with her one last time before throwing in the towel, and it had paid off.
"Oh, Peter, mine too. I mean...I'm so stupid. It felt wrong. I missed you." Aly brought his hand to her lips and she kissed it gently. "Thank you. Thank you so much for coming."
"Even if my entrance left something to be desired?" Peter said, his expression whimsical now.
"Haha! Oh, you should have seen your face. One might have believed you hadn't seen breasts in a very long time." Aly grinned so widely, her nose wrinkled, which was Peter's favourite expression. And he couldn't help but grin back.
"Well I haven't seen yours in a long time. And I missed them."
"Ah, they missed you too." Aly said wistfully, and then she gave him a slightly sultry look.
"Best you don't start that here." And then Peter reached out and he pulled Aly into his lap anyway, nuzzling her arm with his nose. "You don't want to up your quota of naughty points."
Aly laughed. "On the contrary..." And she wiggled in his lap.
"You're incorrigible, do you know that?" Peter asked, expelling a rather weighty breath. "Come on." Peter stood up then, scooping her up in his arms so he was carrying her sideways.
"Oh, goodness! Peter! What are you doing?" Aly clung tightly to his neck, as she was slightly terrified he would drop her.
"I'm taking you to lunch. And I am dreadfully sorry it can only be at the hospital cafeteria, though I'm sure they do a rather tasty spag bol."
Aly laughed and she eased her grip on his neck somewhat. "You're all...pumped..."
Peter snorted then, a picture of rather the opposite of the well-built muscleman she was alluding to. "I had a lot of time on my hands and Tasha has this really pretty weight set. Some of the weights are turquoise. Don't judge me."
"I wouldn't dream of it! I like this!" Peter had always been strong enough to carry her around before, but he hadn't ever really been able to stand there with her in his arms as if she was weightless.
"So do I. I can do this." Peter brought her closer to him and he kissed her lightly on the lips. "You seem different, have you lost weight?" Peter asked, employing his favourite brand of not-quite-right humour.
"You're terrible!" Aly swatted at him, but she was laughing too. Only Peter could say something that would otherwise be offensive, and use it to break what might have been tension...he always knew where the line was. If it would have hurt her, he never would have said it.
"I'm not going to see your breasts for another two months, am I?" Peter asked, lamenting, as he carried her towards the door.
"We'll see how you go, Big Guy." Aly said with a sweet smile on her face. "If you keep sweeping me off my feet like you did today, I'd say your chances are good."
"Ah, it's always good to have a goal." Peter ducked around the door frame and he carried her into the hallway.
"Peter?"
"Yes, Beautiful?" Peter asked, setting her down because he was getting funny looks from other people. "Are you really going to be alright in the cafeteria."
"Hmm? Oh...yes, that's fine." Aly waved her hand around in the air and then she laced her fingers through his again. "I just...will you tell me about the kids? Please?"
"Of course I will. They miss you."
"And they're alright?" Aly asked, her voice suddenly deeply desperate.
"They very much are. Anna is recovering remarkably well. Lydia's...well I don't think she's pleased with you, but she'll get over it. Caleb is dealing like a hero. Thomas had his second birthday and he charmed everyone. Even Edward. Tasha...she's amazing. She's on leave from work, and she's been...so wonderful to me. Lauren is missing you. It's very obvious. But she's alright. And Rasputina is as charming as ever." Peter wasn't sure Aly would want to hear about his daughter with Svetlana right now, but Rasputina was Aly's step-daughter, and she didn't seem put out in the least.
"I want to know everything." Aly said quietly. "Please."
"Of course." While they ate, Peter told her every last thing about the last two months that she had missed out on. He told her about the disease which had ravaged the angels and demons he loved so much. He told her how the kids were doing in school. He informed her of his rather terrible misunderstanding with Liz. He talked about Alastair and Werner's death and Johan's imprisonment. He filled in every last detail he could think of, including his visiony dreams of the blond girl in the coffin, and by the time they returned to Aly's room, he had been talking for two hours. And, he realised, he had been comfortable in her presence for a little longer than that. Things really were going to be okay.
So when she grabbed him and kissed him deeply, he didn't fight it when he might have otherwise, stating they needed to work on things more first. Instead, he kissed her back, joy overtaking the other terrible emotions he had been feeling for far too long. He carried her to the bed where she straddled his lap, and he was still kissing her when there was a knock on the door and it opened a second later...
The hospital Aly was staying in made no argument with Peter entering the building. They knew he was Aly's husband and frankly they wondered why he wasn't here more often. Feeling dreadfully determined and afraid of being waylaid, Peter charged right into Aly's room. To find her topless, as she had currently been changing out of her pajamas. "Peter!" She squeaked, rushing to cover herself with her hands. "What the hell!"
"Oh!" Peter stared at her for a second, the perfect picture of slack-jawed stupor, and then he shook his head. "I'm sorry!" Peter shouted, and he flushed brilliant red. So much for not getting waylaid... "I didn't...I mean, the door wasn't-"
"They tend to frown on mental patients locking the doors so doctors can't get in," Aly snapped. "Can you turn the other way?! Bloody hell."
"Right...right." Peter turned away to let her change, and he felt ridiculous just in doing that. The woman, now behind him, was his wife. But he was certainly not going to stand there and oogle her, especially since he had just barged in to some extent…
"Most people knock," he heard her say over his shoulder. And while he knew she was saying it so he would hear, he ignored her.
"Are you decent?" He asked, still facing the door.
"Sure." Peter turned around then, and he let out a slow breath to slow the pounding of his heart, among other things. Seeing his wife topless for the first time in several months...it wasn't going to not cause a reaction. And that made him even more nervous than he had been on his way up the hall.
"Aly, we need to talk." He said simply then, because that was all there was left to do, really. Get it all out in the open.
"You need more money?" Aly's tone was snarky and she crossed her arms and her eyebrows raised.
"Can you not be rude for five seconds?" Peter hissed, more harshly than he meant to. He was sick of her being horrible to him. Svetlana was right about the fact that he didn't deserve to be treated like trash, though neither did she. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude back. Aly, it's important, and no, it's not about money." Which, of course, had been his in the first place.
Aly looked shocked at his tone, but at least it had the effect of hushing her up. "O..oh?"
Peter leaned against the wall and he looked her over, now that she was appropriately clothed. She was still looking thin, the curves he loved so much having diminished thanks to her self-imposed starvation. But there was colour in her cheeks and she didn't look sickly. It was an improvement. "How are you feeling?"
Aly groaned and she sat down on her bed so she didn't have to stand there awkwardly. "Is that really what you came to talk about, Peter?"
"Yes." Peter nodded. "Sort of. I'm not going to let you shut me out anymore, Aly. I'm your husband. And I understand you need to do certain things for yourself...to get better...but if I was the one doing this to you, you know you would have put your foot down, and then boxed my ears until I said I was sorry five hundred times." Peter gave her a significant look then, that dared her to disagree. She didn't. Even when she was messed up in the head, he knew her better than anyone, with the possible exception of David.
"As your husband, I no longer accept your communication embargo." Aly opened her mouth to speak, but Peter kept right on talking. He was not used to being forceful with her, and it made him feel slightly ill in the pit of his stomach, but he had to do something about this. "Nor do I accept this 'separation' business. So if you want me to keep away...and I mean for real now, you're just going to have to divorce me." Peter pulled a rolled up stack of papers out of his pocket then, and he passed them over to her. He meant it too. They couldn't go on like this, and maybe ultimatums weren't fair, but neither was this. And it wasn't fair to Svetlana, either. "Gabriel made them up this morning. All you have to do is sign." To Peter's credit, he managed to get it all out without his voice shaking once.
Aly took the papers and she looked up at Peter in shock. "Th...these are divorce papers?"
"They are." Peter nodded, and then he pulled a chair over to her bedside so he wasn't towering over her. It seemed to even things out a little between them. "If you want to sign, fine. I'll accept that you don't want to see me anymore and I'll move on-"
"With Svetlana?" Aly said sharply, her eyes flashing.
"That's my business," was Peter's quiet reply. He didn't want poor Svetlana dragged into this. He wouldn't let her be a pawn in Aly's cruel game, if Aly was so dead set on playing. "If you don't want to be married to me anymore, that shouldn't matter to you." Aly looked distraught and Peter threw her a bone. He reached out to gently touch her cheek. "Aly...if you don't want to sign, then don't. This isn't me saying I want a divorce. I don't want one. I will stay with you as long as you want me, nothing would make me happier. But I won't be kept at the end of a rope anymore. Reel me in or set me loose. You decide."
Aly looked at the papers in her hands, and Peter noticed they were shaking. Right then, he knew he had been right about this. And in a moment, all of Aly's insecurities were about to come pouring out. And in them, Peter would understand why she had been so cruel to him since February. He could see in her eyes that she had no intention of signing the papers, and his heart gave a quick flutter of victory and relief, and an instant later, she was sobbing in front of him, and his heart shattered all over again.
"Aly..." Peter slid onto the floor and he closed the distance between them on his knees. He held his arms open to her and she fell into them. Peter closed his eyes, reveling in the sheer joy he felt at just being able to hold her again. There was something so right about it, even when things were so utterly wrong.
"Peter!" Aly sobbed. "Wh...why would you ever want to stay married to me!"
"Oh, Aly. Is that what this has been about?" Peter asked, lacing his fingers into her short hair. "You think I wouldn't want you?"
Aly nodded against his cheek and then she pulled back to look at him, her face red and tear-stained. She rolled and unrolled the stack of papers nervously in her hands. "I can't have any more children and I'm so old, and you're not going to age anymore, and I...I can't...I can't make myself beautiful again!"
Gently, so she didn't think he was still angry with her, Peter took the documents out of her hands and he placed them on the floor beside him so she didn't have to think about them anymore. Then he looked at her, his expression showing nothing but love, and a little worry. "Aly...we have seven children, and if we decided we're insane enough to want more one day, that's what adoption is for. I would never, ever not want you because you can't have any more children. You gave me two beautiful kids. And you gave me Caleb as well. I am grateful to you every day for them. Do you really think I could possibly be so selfish as to demand more for my love?"
"I...no..." Aly looked confused then, but not at his words. She looked confused at herself. "I just...I thought you might want to be with someone who could give you things I can't."
"My darling, Aly." Peter kissed her hands then, and he smiled up at her. "No one can give me more than you do. I'm so sorry I'm not going to grow old with you. I could murder Rolf for making me immortal without asking but...to be fair to him...if he hadn't I wouldn't be growing old at all. And you, my beautiful love, are not old. You're thirty-one. And even when you are eighty-one, I will love you. I love your heart, Aly. I love your fire. I love the way you boss everyone around." Peter smiled fondly. "And I'm not just saying that because if I don't I'll get in trouble. You're amazing. And you are beautiful. Please, Aly...please, don't hurt yourself because you think you have to change for me. When I think that you were suffering...god, Aly, it breaks my heart." And, indeed, the very thought made Peter so emotional, that his throat constricted and his eyes brightened. He did manage not to cry, but only just. "I love you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy." Peter crawled up on the bed beside her and he pressed his face into her hair. "I don't want you to be starving yourself to death in silence because you think you're not good enough for me. That's bollocks. You're good enough. You will always be good enough."
Aly leaned against his chest, and she buried her face there. She was safe in his embrace, and his words reached her, and she cried. She cried out all of her fears and her insecurities. She sobbed about her self-inflicted months of loneliness. She cried for her children, and for the pain she had put Peter through. She cried for all of it.
Peter stayed silent the entire time, though his fingers still slid easily through her silky hair. He kept his arms around her, his grip firm and safe. When she finally spoke again, he listened patiently, as he was well done with being forceful. He had achieved exactly what he set out to achieve. "I just...I hate myself, Peter. I hate myself."
"I know how that feels." Peter said, moving his hand to the back of her neck where he brushed his fingers softly against her skin. "It's terrible. But you have people around you who will love you until you learn to love yourself again. It's not going to happen all at once. Everyone realises that. And no one is going to rush you. That is certainly not what I came here to do today. You should take as long as you need to get better, Aly. I just needed you to know I wasn't going anywhere unless you wanted me too." And then, just to clarify, "you don't...want me to, right?"
"No." Aly shook her head firmly and she inched closer to him at once. "No, no, no. God, I've been...argh. Peter. Peter. My wonderful Peter. I am so...so very sorry." Aly lifted her eyes to meet his, her face the very picture of sorrow. "I can't believe the things I've been saying. The things I've been doing..."
"Aly, we all do things we don't mean. I think one of the hardest things to do is to know our own heart completely. You were feeling hurt and insecure, and you reacted in a way you believed you should. I'm sure we all remember my brilliant plan to push you all away so I didn't endanger you with my presence, as I do happen to be a bit of a demon magnet... That wasn't the most stellar plan on Earth, but I did it anyway. And I'm an alcoholic. I slip. I fuck up. All these kids...and you, it seems...you put me up on this pedestal, but it doesn't exist. We're all the same. We mess up and we work through it. It would be terrible of me to deny you the chance to do that."
Aly sniffled a little and then she reached out for his hand again. "I missed you, Peter. I just...I couldn't stand you leaving me, so I left you."
"It doesn't feel good...to be left." Peter didn't say it to make her feel guilt. He said it to prove he understood. "I think a lot of people do what they can to avoid it."
Aly lowered her eyes again and she leaned against his shoulder. Her fingers traced patterns on his large hands and when she spoke, she sounded both shy and shamed. "You slept with Svetlana?"
"I did." Peter admitted, quite without shame himself. Peter had always considered himself a loyal person, but he also took people at their word and Aly had told him flat out she wanted to separate and see other people. "I didn't do it to hurt you. I was hurting myself. I wish I hadn't, but not because I feel it was wrong. I just...I didn't realise how strongly she felt for me. And if I had, I wouldn't have started it. And I should have ended it sooner, too. I let it go on far too long, because...because I could fall in love with her if I let myself."
"But you love me?" Aly asked, her voice small.
"More than words could express, Beautiful." Peter kissed her temple easily and he felt Aly shiver in his arms. "But you see why I had to come here today. I needed to know. And Svetlana did too."
"Peter? I slept with someone too."
Peter blinked in surprise and he drew back from her, but he wasn't upset, merely surprised. "Erm...that's...how?"
"He worked here." Aly said, looking quite meek. So meek, it was bothering Peter. Something about it didn't sit right.
"Worked. He doesn't anymore?"
Aly shook her head and she enclosed his hand in hers. "Peter...he was my doctor. And, I know it was wrong! But it was after I said I wanted to see other people, and he always made me feel so good about myself- I'm sorry!"
The only reason Peter had a problem with that, was that it sounded like this man had taken advantage of his patient when she was in a vulnerable state. Which was pretty disgusting in his eyes. But Aly hadn't done anything wrong, as far as he could see. Not that he had been pleased with the idea of separation in the first instance... "You don't need to apologise, Aly. We weren't together. You did nothing wrong. Did he...Aly did he hurt you?"
"No." Aly shook her head, and she smiled timidly. "He didn't hurt me. I didn't mind. It was his idea, but I...I liked that he liked me. That he thought I was beautiful. God, that's...pathetic, isn't it?"
"It's nice to be wanted," was all Peter could really say to that. "Did he leave...willingly?"
Aly shook her head and she bit her lip. "Ah, no. Apparently I wasn't the only woman he was having it on with. Which made me feel ridiculously stupid for not realising before..."
Peter leaned in to kiss her hair again and he sighed into it. He breathed in slowly, and the scent of her hair consumed him. "It sounds like we were both lost..."
"Yeah." Aly groaned and she leaned back on the bed, leaving Peter looking slightly surprised at her sudden movement. "God, Peter. How the fuck did this happen?"
"Very, very quickly," he replied, looking bemused. "I'm at fault too. I didn't notice you were feeling poorly until it was probably too late to do anything, because I was preoccupied with Thomas. And I can't apologise enough for that. I am here for you now. And any other time you want me. From now until eternity, alright? You just speak up. The Aly I married never had a problem with that."
Aly chuckled and she rolled her head to it's side so she could see him. "That's true enough. So...we're together? Together again? We won't be with other people?"
"Please?" Peter asked, his voice slightly desperate. "I married you because I rather hoped that would be the way it went for a very long, long time. I never wanted to be with anyone else. And while I have feelings for Svetlana, my feelings for you are...more. Infinitely more." That was, of course, probably because they had had time to develop, and he had cut his relationship with Svetlana short, quite on purpose. He had made a promise to Aly, and he had to try to fix things with her one last time before throwing in the towel, and it had paid off.
"Oh, Peter, mine too. I mean...I'm so stupid. It felt wrong. I missed you." Aly brought his hand to her lips and she kissed it gently. "Thank you. Thank you so much for coming."
"Even if my entrance left something to be desired?" Peter said, his expression whimsical now.
"Haha! Oh, you should have seen your face. One might have believed you hadn't seen breasts in a very long time." Aly grinned so widely, her nose wrinkled, which was Peter's favourite expression. And he couldn't help but grin back.
"Well I haven't seen yours in a long time. And I missed them."
"Ah, they missed you too." Aly said wistfully, and then she gave him a slightly sultry look.
"Best you don't start that here." And then Peter reached out and he pulled Aly into his lap anyway, nuzzling her arm with his nose. "You don't want to up your quota of naughty points."
Aly laughed. "On the contrary..." And she wiggled in his lap.
"You're incorrigible, do you know that?" Peter asked, expelling a rather weighty breath. "Come on." Peter stood up then, scooping her up in his arms so he was carrying her sideways.
"Oh, goodness! Peter! What are you doing?" Aly clung tightly to his neck, as she was slightly terrified he would drop her.
"I'm taking you to lunch. And I am dreadfully sorry it can only be at the hospital cafeteria, though I'm sure they do a rather tasty spag bol."
Aly laughed and she eased her grip on his neck somewhat. "You're all...pumped..."
Peter snorted then, a picture of rather the opposite of the well-built muscleman she was alluding to. "I had a lot of time on my hands and Tasha has this really pretty weight set. Some of the weights are turquoise. Don't judge me."
"I wouldn't dream of it! I like this!" Peter had always been strong enough to carry her around before, but he hadn't ever really been able to stand there with her in his arms as if she was weightless.
"So do I. I can do this." Peter brought her closer to him and he kissed her lightly on the lips. "You seem different, have you lost weight?" Peter asked, employing his favourite brand of not-quite-right humour.
"You're terrible!" Aly swatted at him, but she was laughing too. Only Peter could say something that would otherwise be offensive, and use it to break what might have been tension...he always knew where the line was. If it would have hurt her, he never would have said it.
"I'm not going to see your breasts for another two months, am I?" Peter asked, lamenting, as he carried her towards the door.
"We'll see how you go, Big Guy." Aly said with a sweet smile on her face. "If you keep sweeping me off my feet like you did today, I'd say your chances are good."
"Ah, it's always good to have a goal." Peter ducked around the door frame and he carried her into the hallway.
"Peter?"
"Yes, Beautiful?" Peter asked, setting her down because he was getting funny looks from other people. "Are you really going to be alright in the cafeteria."
"Hmm? Oh...yes, that's fine." Aly waved her hand around in the air and then she laced her fingers through his again. "I just...will you tell me about the kids? Please?"
"Of course I will. They miss you."
"And they're alright?" Aly asked, her voice suddenly deeply desperate.
"They very much are. Anna is recovering remarkably well. Lydia's...well I don't think she's pleased with you, but she'll get over it. Caleb is dealing like a hero. Thomas had his second birthday and he charmed everyone. Even Edward. Tasha...she's amazing. She's on leave from work, and she's been...so wonderful to me. Lauren is missing you. It's very obvious. But she's alright. And Rasputina is as charming as ever." Peter wasn't sure Aly would want to hear about his daughter with Svetlana right now, but Rasputina was Aly's step-daughter, and she didn't seem put out in the least.
"I want to know everything." Aly said quietly. "Please."
"Of course." While they ate, Peter told her every last thing about the last two months that she had missed out on. He told her about the disease which had ravaged the angels and demons he loved so much. He told her how the kids were doing in school. He informed her of his rather terrible misunderstanding with Liz. He talked about Alastair and Werner's death and Johan's imprisonment. He filled in every last detail he could think of, including his visiony dreams of the blond girl in the coffin, and by the time they returned to Aly's room, he had been talking for two hours. And, he realised, he had been comfortable in her presence for a little longer than that. Things really were going to be okay.
So when she grabbed him and kissed him deeply, he didn't fight it when he might have otherwise, stating they needed to work on things more first. Instead, he kissed her back, joy overtaking the other terrible emotions he had been feeling for far too long. He carried her to the bed where she straddled his lap, and he was still kissing her when there was a knock on the door and it opened a second later...
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