bigapplesauce | 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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"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.

The Bedside We Seek in the Night [closed]

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