bigapplesauce | The Bedside We Seek in the Night [closed]

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The Bedside We Seek in the Night [closed]

Since the last big mess of shared dreams, the memories dredged up and exposed for Gabriel to see have plagued Peter. It's not unusual for him to have nightmares or to dream of vampires, but it's been a while since he last had the kind of dreams he's had the last few nights.

He's hiding under his bed, cringing and crying as quietly as he can as shots ring out a few rooms away. His mother screams and he claps his hands over his ears, expecting the exact moment when she stops screaming because he's relived this memory too many times to count. The setting is achingly familiar yet completely out of his control, his sleeping mind unable to grasp just why he knows what's going to happen, why his gut is twisting itself in knots as the gun goes off again and it's his father's turn to scream.

Usually at this point the dream dissolves into some other terrible memory, or loops around and starts again with him sitting up watching telly with his parents before the monster comes. Tonight's a little different, though. In the way of dreams, time foreshortens itself. Peter trembles and stares at the pair of feet just in front of him, trying to breathe as quietly as he can. It knows he's here. The figure bends down, a smiling face dipping into view, eyes locked onto Peter. "Hey, guy," says Jerry.

Peter's heart seizes and he leaps. Then, suddenly, there's a burst of red light before he's falling into darkness. He hits something soft that seems to reach up and grab him to entangle him and panics, screaming and thrashing against it.

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Peter lets out a little sigh and shifts to lay down behind her, spooning up against her back. He still can't decide whether he wants to talk or not, but he knows he doesn't want her to go to sleep and leave him sitting up alone with his thoughts.

Lucy wants to snuggle back, but doesn't. Thoughts are swirling around in her head, about Peter's dislike for anything unnatural. Weirdly enough, she trusts him, and feels like she's decieving him by keeping things hidden - especially now he's admitted to his own power. Besides, it feels wrong to have Gabriel know about it and not Peter.

"I got a power from the rift too," she says, both her voice and body tense.

Thoughts of his dreams -- and of his power -- circle around in Peter's mind, threatening to spill out. They're not going to talk about it, though, he's decided that. Just because Lucy is the only person he can think of he could even begin to trust with it -- and even though she already knows why he's been having bad dreams -- doesn't mean they need to talk about everything that's wrong with him.

He stiffens at her words (and at the noticeable shift in her body language), finally turning his attention to Lucy herself. Staring at the blonde hair inches from his face, he says carefully, "You didn't mention it."

Edited 2013-05-21 06:28 (UTC)

Lucy lets out a short, humourless laugh. "I haven't mentioned it to anyone," she answers. Feeling his body go stiff behind her is not reassuring, but she'd rather tell him than have him find out some other way - like through Gabriel. She's fairly sure he's the only one who knows, but she doesn't exactly trust him to keep that secret.

"I can turn back time. Just a few minutes. It happens with I'm scared," she explains, deciding to get it over with quickly. Funny how both of them have powers that basically come down to running away from their problems. "I was still in bed when you teleported in here, landed on top of me. Obviously startled me, so I undid it before I realised it was you. That's why I was holding a knife. I already knew something was coming, because it had already happened to me. Even if I didn't know it was you. I've been using it to pickpocket without getting caught. Or rather, to get uncaught."

She pauses in her story, then suddenly sits up, crawling out of bed, needing space, before he can answer. "Sorry, I... You probably don't find me very trustworthy now. That idea that I might've... unwritten things between us. I haven't, but I guess you can't really know that," she rambles, wringing her hands a little, not looking at him. She's coming off as quite a bit more neurotic than usual. But hey, when has she ever bragged about mental stability. He already knows she's a bit crazy.

Not trusting Gabriel to keep his mouth shut is probably a good call, all things considered. Peter doesn't miss the 'when I'm scared' part, though for a moment or two he's a bit too focused on the 'I'm scared' part to be too terribly bothered about Lucy's emotional state. Never mind the dangers of appearing outside the building -- she could have waited for him with that knife and plunged it into him before he even woke up and knew where he was.

But she didn't, he thinks as she pulls away and leaves him. Had she just admitted to a predilection for drinking blood or transforming under the full moon, he might have a real problem doing anything other than teleporting as far away as he could. But time travel? What does he know about time travel? Beyond his initial, stabbing-related thought, it doesn't actually sound all that frightening until she starts talking about what she might have done with it.

"Not unless I scare you," he chuckles mirthlessly, still curled up on the bed where she left him.

She looks over at him, and is surprised he's so calm about this. Or seems calm, anyway. Then again, she's not entirely sure why she feels so guilty, it's not like she's done anything to him with it, she's just been worried how he'd react.

"You did once," she admits. "First time we had sex. You grabbed me, gave me flashbacks to.. to him. That's the first time I ever undid anything, just ten seconds or something." She figures she might as well get it all out of the way.

Peter's gaze slides away from her in guilt -- he hadn't known too much about her husband then, of course, but even if he had he probably wouldn't have cared. He's silent for a few moments, mulling it all over.

"I'm not going to know when you use it," he says at last, wanting that addressed.

"Not unless I tell you," she affirms, nodding anxiously. Granted, she has no plans to use it against him. But that doesn't mean she can't.

"Gabriel does, though," she adds with a frown. "He remembered what had happened even after I undid it. Not sure how. Apparently he used to be able to travel in time."

Peter can think of any number of things she could use that power to do, and he doesn't like a great deal of them. Of course, the exact same is true of his own power, and it's not like wanting to be rid of that has done him much good.

"Get back in bed," he tells her decisively, propping himself up on one elbow and holding out a hand.

Lucy isn't aware of how tense she was until her shoulders sag with relief. If's a very effective way for Peter to say he trusts her, or that it's not a big deal. She can't imagine the worry will evaporate completely, but that he seems to have decided he won't let it bother him means a lot. She honestly wasn't sure which way he'd go on it.

She smiles and crawls back into bed, taking his hand and leaning in to kiss him.

At a different time Peter might feel like he ought to keep up his appearance by being aggressive with the kiss and pulling her down for a quick shag. In all honesty he's too tired and shaken up to want to do more than kiss her relatively gently in return and try to get her to cuddle with him. If she ever tells anyone he has any interest in cuddling, he'll no doubt have an enormous manly tantrum over it.

Lucy has become rather protective of Peter and his pride. While she has no qualms about mocking him for the things she thinks he deserves mocking for, she doesn't want other people to do it.

She settles in for the cuddle quite willingly when she gets under the covers again, resting her head against Peter's chest. And seeing as they're already having Serious Discussions... "Should we... talk about what, you know, this is?" she asks cautiously.

When exactly this stopped being ~~primarily~~ about using Lucy for sex (and food, and booze) and when it turned into something more, Peter couldn't say. He hadn't even realized that he would want to protect her until he stumbled into one of her nightmares and did so.

What more it turned into, too, he couldn't say. Peter grunts as he gets settled with an arm around her and pillows comfortably supporting them together. "About what what is?" he asks, being only a little bit deliberately obtuse.

"You know... us. This relationship," she answers. "It's been almost two months now. I mean, are we dating? Are we fuckbuddies?" She pulls back a little to look at him. It's not that she really need a particular label, but she's like to know the rules and expectations. What exactly Peter wants out of it. "I'm not asking you to commit or anything. I'd just like to know where we stand."

That's what he was afraid she was asking. Peter sucks in a breath and holds it, screwing up his face as he turns his eyes to the ceiling like it'll give him an answer. He looks for a moment or two like he's going to come out with something definitive, some actual reply, but when he speaks he just lets out a slightly sheepish, "I don't know, actually."

Which is probably why they should discuss it a little. "Well... I like what we've been doing. And it's not like I mind of you continue to fuck other people." Because she assumes he has at some point or another. Given how short a time they knew each other before they had sex is a bit of a hint.

"I like what we've been doing," agrees Peter. He likes it rather a lot, actually, and sort of wants to go on just doing it without having to talk about what it actually is and jinxing it.

He furrows his brow, mouth opening and shutting silently for a moment or two. "That's...a first," he admits. "Are you fucking other people?"

Peter why are you asking this question.

"Not recently," she answers honestly. Meaning, yes, she has. She's a little surprised that Peter apparently hasn't - or at least, not since this became a sort of regular thing. "Does it bother you?" she asks, watching him carefully. Because, you know, not jinxing it is one thing, but what if he'd continued not knowing, and she decided to bring a guy home and Peter came to visit? (Or teleported in, for that matter.) Not that Lucy ever brings someone here, she doesn't want random guys knowing where she lives if they get clingy, and it's easier when she can just slip out when she wants to. And her power helps her avoid potential bad situations.

"No," replies Peter immediately, drawing his lips down and widening his eyes, like he's never even thought of the possibility that it might until she just suggested it. "No, of course not. I've fucked other people." Because he needs her to know that. It just hasn't been very recent, that's all.

She gives a nod, and rests her head against his chest again. "I haven't felt the need in a while," she explains. "But when I got here, I'd been in prison for a year and a half. Bit deprived of physical contact." Not to mention emotional contact, but physical intimacy is a nice temporary stand-in for emotional intimacy. Now that she's become rather fond of Peter, and he seems to appreciate her, she's been more content.

"But none of them have really been as fun as you," she says with a bit of smile, figuring that Peter's ego might need just a little bit pampering. "And it's always much nicer when you know and like someone."

"I'd say you're not deprived now," comments Peter with a grin. Yep, that did the trick -- not just because she complimented his sexual prowess, but because she implied that she likes him despite knowing him.

"No, I'm quite content," she affirms, snuggling up with a bit of a smile. She's glad they've gotten various things out in the open without any major disasters. It's a good thing he's weak for compliments. Given she's pretty sure he doesn't actually get them a lot anymore, deprived of his fanbase and generally not having the patience to act like a decent person.

And honestly, she doesn't like him despite knowing him, but because of it. When she first got to know him, he seemed a bit of a prat, but the more she's got to know about his insecurities and history, she's realised he's like that for a reason. Hard outer shell to protect the squishy insides.

Content? Peter tries to think if that term applies to how he feels, too -- and if he can remember the last time he was content. He was content in Las Vegas, he thinks, sort of before killing Jerry but more so after. He pets her hair and hums an, "mmhmm," of agreement. He's certainly not content in terms of his overall lifestyle, but Lucy...Lucy is one good thing in his life, and it scares him a bit to think that because he's sure to eventually fuck it up.

It's a good thing Lucy tends to call Peter on his bullshit, then. She'll allow a lot of it, but won't let it go unchecked. So fucking it up will not be quite that easy. She gives his collarbone a kiss, and settles in for sleep.

If he hasn't managed to drive her away yet, they have to be doing well. Peter lets out a little sigh and tries to relax so he can sleep. The nightmare seems more distant now, at least.

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The Bedside We Seek in the Night [closed]

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