Peter Gabriel Kemp (father_peter) wrote in darker_london, @ 2018-02-26 22:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | peter kemp, thomas littleton |
Let's just discuss everything apparently (Peter, Thomas)
Peter hadn't even realised he'd been reading for hours, but when someone entering his office ripped his attention away from the manuscripts splayed out on his desk, a glance at the clock revealed it was three in the afternoon. He'd started this all around ten in the morning! No wonder his eyesight was starting to go fuzzy.
He looked up and spotted Thomas hovering around the door, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a fond, half-smile. "Ah, Thomas, you're a sight for fuzzy eyes!" But then something about the look on Thomas' face made him frown. "Hey," he quickly rose from his chair so he could see to his best friend without his mammoth desk in the way. "Thomas, are you alright?"
Thomas' face looked lined with worry and he shook his head. "I'm safe. Before you call out your demon army," Thomas replied, reaching for Peter's hand to ground himself. Peter laced his fingers into Thomas' easily, giving Thomas' hand a gentle squeeze.
"I don't have an army," Peter protested, leading Thomas to the comfy sofa he kept in the corner of his office just for conversations like these.
"I mean, you do though."
"I prefer to think of them as a team! Who...occasionally has to mount rescues and various, yes. But a team." Peter turned his body so he was facing Thomas, his back resting against the arm of the sofa. "So, you're safe, but-?"
"Dreams. Among other things," Thomas sighed tiredly. "I didn't get much sleep last night. And Marie wanted breakfast at seven in the morning. One doesn't say no to hungry Marie," Thomas chuckled then. "She's like a hungry hurricane."
The topic made Peter think about Thomas' money predicament and without thinking about it he asked, "and you're uhm...doing okay? For groceries?" Peter felt incredibly uncomfortable the second he had asked, and Thomas' weary and frustrated look to him afterwards didn't help matters. "I'm sorry-"
"No. No, Peter, you don't apologise to me," Thomas gritted out, his jaw tightening as he forced the words out. In a split second the air in the office seemed like it had cooled and the atmosphere changed. Peter frantically wished it would change back. "Without you, I and...more importantly, my kids, would be so fucking food insecure it's-" Every word out of Thomas' mouth made Peter's stomach squirm uncomfortably. He knew hunger himself, of course, but absolutely never once because he couldn't afford food. That had been true for Thomas for nearly all of his existence. There had been a few years where Spectre's money had made things stable, but when that went away, Thomas was back where he started. Peter couldn't know how it felt, and he didn't understand why Thomas wouldn't just let him give him money. He had plenty!
"We're fine. Thank you," Thomas nodded, clearly trying to work through his embarrassment. That was what was making the situation so goddamn uncomfortable. They were so used to being equals and now there was a power imbalance. It felt wretched. "And I- I'm sorry. For being frustrated when you ask. Thank you for asking."
Peter watched his best friend, honestly feeling a little bit at a loss for words now. He still wanted to apologise for derailing the conversation by asking, but Thomas had told him not to say he was worry, and then he would apologise for apologising- "Thomas-" I wish you'd just let me give you money and be done with it- "I-I didn't mean-"
"Can we just pretend it didn't happen?" Thomas interrupted, and the look on his face was so close to desperation that Peter, his guts churning with unease again, nodded quickly.
"So you had nightmares?" he said, willing the subject to change quickly.
"Mmm." Thomas seemed relieved to move on. "Ever since Stephie and I got back from Sweden. Seeing Scarlett like that- I keep having dreams I'm burning, or being eaten alive, and I wake up panicking. Getting back to sleep is impossible so I sit in the dark and drink coffee and think about everything else they did-" Peter knew the Templar had made Thomas watch as Stephie and Scarlett were tortured. On a different occasion he had been made to watch, while being stretched on the rack, as Peter himself was whipped and then buried alive. They had used finger screws, the strappado and the Judas chair on Thomas himself. Peter knew what it was like to have those memories swimming around in your head, ever more overwhelming in the silence of night. "It'll pass," Thomas finally said quietly. "I know it'll pass."
"Are you going to talk to anyone about this, Tom?" Seeing his best friend like this was pretty heart-breaking. Thomas had been so much better lately, and Peter just wanted every good thing for the other man.
"Yeah, definitely. I have an appointment in a few days. I'll be alright, Peter."
"And it's...just the Templar you're remembering?" Peter asked carefully, leaving Amaris' name out of it entirely. It wasn't like Thomas wouldn't know who Peter meant.
"Just the Templar," he nodded. "At least at the moment. But I imagine I'll talk about it all. Would you believe none of this is the reason I came here to see you?" he asked, finally smiling a little. "You're just...ultra-perceptive."
Peter was too kind to mention that anyone with eyesight would have known Thomas was in a bad place. "You can talk to me about anything," he said easily.
"Heh." Thomas looked so uncomfortable then, Peter reached out for both the man's hands. He hadn't seen Thomas like this in so long-
"Thomas, what- Oh, Jesus. You're dying aren't you!?" Peter whimpered, his heart thundering against his chest now. It all made a bitter sort of sense. Thomas didn't look great because he was ill and Peter was going to lose him again, and the very thought of it made Peter feel like me might vomit.
"No!" Thomas pulled Peter into a hug so quickly he felt like the room was spinning. "Christ, Peter." He rubbed Peter's back a little and when he pulled away, Thomas seemed much more like himself. "Maybe this isn't going to be terrible to tell you, if the thing you jump to automatically is me dying."
"You do tend to do it rather a lot," Peter said, one eyebrow raised.
"Excuse me, you have died way more than I have!" Thomas insisted. "I just did it...longer. Peter-" Thomas took a deep breath and he chewed on his lip before speaking again. "It's about Sabrina actually." And then before Peter could panic too much, Thomas charged forward, "she's not turned up! For all I know she's still buried and we don't know where. It's something she did while you two were together."
"Oh." It had been so long since he had been with Sabrina, he hardly thought anything Thomas could tell him would upset him. "Did you find out she was sleeping with someone else too? I mean...aside from her son's boyfriend."
"Not as such," Thomas replied, his face twisting with disgust at Peter's words. "She stole my sperm."
Peter blinked at Thomas politely, completely unaware of what to say. He knew she'd somehow gotten pregnant to Thomas, but considering she'd slept with him, that didn't seem too out of the ordinary. Except that Thomas had been dead at the time... "That's uhm- S-she what?"
"Mums had me freeze some before I took my vows," he said with a shrug. "She said that she was worried that someday I might leave the fold and want children and what if by then I couldn't have them or I was ill or- Who even knows. She paid a fucking fortune for it too. She had to save up for ages and I told her I didn't really care, but she seemed so insistent. I don't...even want to think about how many meals she skipped to-" he shook his head quickly, "-when I died she was still listed as my medical proxy. Abby thinks she couldn't have it destroyed because it was the last part of me, you know? The last, really gross part of me."
Peter felt like he was having an out of body experience as Thomas explained about his frozen sperm Peter had absolutely never heard about. And Thomas continued, "I literally never really thought about it again after I had it done because I didn't do it for me- Which is why- Sabrina pretended to be Mums. She pretended to be Mums and she stole it and that's how- James."
Well it certainly made more sense than her magicking his dead sperm to life. A sick, fucked up kind of sense. "Fuck. Of course she did."
"Abby looked into it and- The date- Peter, she was still with you. You were together- I'm sorry."
"Hmm?" What the hell was Thomas sorry about?! "My insane ex stole your...gooey property, and you're sorry? Thomas, I don't- That woman- I don't care that she did this while she was with me, I care that she did this to you!" It was just another reason to add to the long list of why he was glad he had no idea where she was buried. Because if he did he would have to rescue her and he honestly didn't know if it would be safe to hold her in his hospital, not after her mental torture of Tasha which she had accomplished from a different continent. He hated that he was glad she was somewhere under the earth where he couldn't find her.
"I am trying to figure out what I'm most upset about," Thomas admitted quietly. "I don't care about the sperm so much. It never meant anything to me, and James is so- I am so grateful to have him, how he came about doesn't matter either, not to me. But she impersonated my mother. And I hadn't told that woman a thing about Mums. Which means she- The research she had to do to accomplish this. To what...throw it in your face? You left before she could do that, thank goodness. But that- If she can find out that kind of thing- If she had decided to harm my family instead of make more-"
"She was always ridiculously powerful," Peter nodded. "But she's gone, as far as we know. Maybe she did it because she thought I would hate you. She did want me all to herself. Perhaps she thought she needed to drive hate for you into my heart to have me completely. Which is...ridiculous." Peter leaned forward then, planting a kiss on Thomas' cheek. "You okay, big guy?"
Thomas looked exhausted and he immediately curled up at Peter's side, cuddling into him. Peter took the hint and wrapped his arms around Thomas tightly. "Better now," Thomas admitted. "I don't know, Peter. I'm tired."
Peter wasn't used to being the stronger one of them, at least not usually. Thomas was so steadfast and brave, and now he looked anything but. "How about the kids have a sleepover tonight, hmm? They can all sleep out in our living room and you can have the night off? You probably just need some rest."
"Not so sure walking up from a nightmare in an empty house is going to help," Thomas said, sounding almost bitter. Peter hated it.
"Wouldn't Stephie be there?" Peter asked carefully, hoping they were still doing alright.
At Stephie's name, Thomas' expression softened and Peter felt relieved. "She would," he nodded. "I mean, if she wanted to be. But she was there, Peter. I love her. I love her so fucking much and I don't want to- I know she would want to be there for me. I know that. But she had to watch me burn," he whispered. "She had to watch me burn for hours. Peter. Peter, I don't want her to have to watch me burn again-"
"Okay, okay," Peter interrupted quickly, because Thomas was getting close to the panic rambling he sometimes did. He knew Thomas was saying he was in pain and he didn't want Stephie to have to see it. Not again. "Alright. The kids can sleep downstairs and you can sleep with me upstairs. Not alone, not making Stephie see it."
"What about Miss Aly?" Thomas asked, but it was clear it wasn't an argument.
"She'll understand," Peter said softly, knowing his wife would more than understand. Aly had never suffered at the hands of the Templar herself, but she had seen what they did to the people she loved on far too many occasions.
"Thank you," Thomas said with feeling. Peter was sure that Thomas would be much more himself if he could just get some sleep.
"Of course." Then Peter's stomach rumbled and he checked his watch. "Shit. Let's go grab some food, I haven't eaten since...goddamn it, eight am."
Thomas lifted his head and he gave Peter a fond look. "You were nerding out over your manuscripts again, weren't you?"
"They're fascinating!" Peter protested.
"Uh huh. Righto. Let's get you fed and me...bed? Something. Sleep thing."
Peter chuckled and he rose from the sofa, extending a hand to Thomas. "It would be an honour to bed you, Thomas Littleton."
"That's what everyone says," Thomas joked, wrapping his arm around Peter as they made their way out the office door. "Just don't get so obsessed with me you steal my sperm," he said, a little too loudly on purpose so anyone else in their offices at that moment might hear.
"Jesus Christ," Peter hissed, amused.