Darker London

The thing about being this happy is that Stephie truly wanted to believe nothing could break it. All day she'd been dizzyingly high, the excitement bubbling up in her chest, grinning, joking, not staying still while Lavinia fixed her hair. And all day she'd been aware that something might go wrong - someone might disappear, someone might attack.

But everyone was as safe and protected as Peter could manage and there was certainly nothing else Stephie could do to make it safer. All she could do was hold onto this feeling and cherish every moment of it.

( ... )

Abby had never been afraid of her friend Aly before, but when she entered the secure ward and made her way to Aly's room now, she did so with her hand on the tranq gun at her side. She keyed in the code to Aly's room, admitting herself to find Aly on the bed, chewing the nail of her pointer finger as if it had somehow offended her.

( Shitty conversations )

Thomas was feeling a little conflicted when he got home and he was glad that the kids were out with Spectre so he could take some time to figure out where he stood. He headed immediately into the kitchen the second he stepped through the door, because he needed coffee. "STEPHIE?!" he called, wondering if she was home, or she had stepped out for a while. "Stephie, I'm home and making coffee!"

He was answered by Coco rushing through the dog door from the backyard, and bounding into the kitchen, her tail wagging madly. "Well hello to you too, Madam!" Thomas grinned, leaning down to kiss the doberman between her eyes.

Abby's talk with Stephie had been really good, and Abby had even managed to speak to the other woman about her past without completely losing her shit about it. She didn't really like talking or even thinking about her time with Aaron, but Abby found Stephie so easy to talk to a trust, it was okay that Stephie knew. They had also spoken about how lucky they were nowadays, to have Stuart and Thomas. Which was why, the second she arrived home, Abby dropped all of her things on the ground and made a beeline for the kitchen where she could hear Stuart pottering around.

( Short and sweet )

While she understood exactly why Stephie might respond the way she did, it still worried Abby. Abby adored Stephie and wanted to make sure the other woman was alright. Though considering the circumstances, Abby would understand if she wasn't.

Armed with two giant coffees in takeaway cups, Abby made her way down to the garage she knew Stephie had relocated her helicopter so she could work on it. "Hey," she said, announcing herself and waving a coffee as well. "I had them make it extra strong. How's today?" she asked gently.

It may have been an odd space for an injection, the back yard, but Peter had refused to leave his house just so Abby could shoot more Disulfiram into his body. It was a drug which reacted with alcohol and made anyone who drank while on it feel absolutely awful. Peter wasn't going to go out of his way for that. In fact he had been avoiding Abby entirely for two weeks and when she had shown up at his house he had unequivocally told her he would only let her inject him in the yard, out of view of his kids.

They didn't need to see it.

( HALP )

Thanks to pharmaceutical intervention provided by the genius of Yvonne Miles and Dr Wentworth, it had been years since Peter had had a seizure during a vision. The stress of the search for Amaris meant he had been less than stellar at taking his pills regularly and on-time, however, and he had less than three seconds of warning before the vision slammed into him and his body seized and he lost consciousness.

( Well that just sucks )

Abby was pacing in her kitchen when Thomas and Stephie entered her half of the duplex. She had sent Spectre to watch the kids and banished Stuart and Mara to the upstairs so they couldn't listen in, but somehow she still felt like the entire world was listening somehow.

She should really stop being so nosy. It meant she learned things she wished she wouldn't, and then had to have awkward conversations.

Abby waved them towards her and she pottered over to the kettle. "Do either of you want a drink?" she asked, wringing her hands.

"No I don't want a drink, I want to know what the hell is going on!" Thomas asked, though he did his best not to sound angry. Just worried.

"I don't want you to freak out," Abby insisted, biting her lip.

"Well...too late?"

Stephie had been trying to work out her own feelings about Spectre for a while.

On the one hand, Spectre had done something that hurt her, Marie, Thomas and his kids. On the other, it was Spectre, and he wasn’t an evil angel hell-bent on tearing their lives apart, and Stephie was struggling a bit with the shades of grey morality this fact was causing. It was like Jinx, she couldn't hate him. The betrayal made her sick, but she couldn't hate him.

How could Spectre just... leave? How could he leave this family reeling in such an... ordinary, not-demonic, real-life way? He wasn’t possessed or kidnapped or anything. He just left.

It terrified Stephie, that he was even able to leave. The worst part of betrayal was that it never came from your enemies.

( ... )

Christmas with lots of families involved always got a little complicated, but the Littletons worked it out. They had their family gathering on the evening of Christmas eve after Thomas and the kids returned from Peter's Christmas eve dinner. They had dessert together and exchanged gifts, before the smaller family groups, (including Stephie, Thomas and Marie) would enjoy their more private Christmas celebrations in the morning.

( Is it an elf?! )

Halloween was always a difficult time of year for Peter. It was the anniversary of the day he had been rescued from his terrifying ordeal beneath the Vatican at the hands of the Templar. And sure, being rescued had meant his torture was over, but it was also the only date he truly remembered too. While he had been trapped in the dark, never knowing day from night, the days had passed without knowledge or memory.

( Dorks )

It was Danny's first time out since he'd been at Priory and before then he wasn't exactly hitting the town every night. The trip to Robert MacGavillary Memorial Hospital felt strange and by the time they arrived, Danny was just glad to be inside again.

Having arrived early, Danny sat in the waiting room, willing his friends to show up soon. He couldn't get his mind off what he was about to do. He hadn't told any of his friends his plan because he knew they would stop him. It involved getting closer to Greg than he ever hoped to be again, and just the thought of it was weighing on him. He hoped it would work out and he could get the information he needed. Without it, this was all going to be for nothing.

"Nooooo!"

Danny had his arm flung over his face and he was hiding in the crook of his elbow from a very bossy Abby. "Daniel Marlow, you need to finish your lunch."

Danny groaned, fairly sure if he ate anything else he was going to throw up. Abby had informed him, however, that he needed to eat more than he had been to put some weight back on. Something about not fucking his heart up more than it already was. In order to do that, considering his stomach had shrunken from disuse, he needed to not give up on his meals after three bites. "You are mean to me!" he accused her, still hiding.

"Yep, I'm a dragon lady. Not literally, in case that worries you. Now eat your damn tater tots before I tell your mother on you."

Behind Abby his friends filed into the room, though Danny didn't entirely hear them. He was still hiding in his arm. "That's a dirty trick, Dr Abby. A dirty, dirty trick."

Danny was on his fourth hour of a Britain's Got Talent marathon, and wondering just how long before the urge to die would return with a vengeance. He was still tied down, the staff not trusting him for a second when he said he wasn't going to try to kill himself again. At least he could still work the telly since the remote was within reach, right beside the call button.

( Conversations )

Peter hated MRIs, he decided. Technically he had decided this several MRIs ago, but he was rudely reminded every time he slid into the vile machine and it beeped viciously at him. Then he would listen to inane music on his iPod for twenty minutes while he tried to ignore the jackhammer-like sound the machine made as it worked.

Still, it was better than as stereotactic biopsy. God he hoped he didn't have to have another one of those.

When it was all over he jumped up and pulled his own clothes on, discarding the hospital gown in the 'used' bin with gusto. The results would take awhile and all he really wanted to do was drink which wasn't entirely helpful.

Instead of giving in to the delicious amber liquid he really wanted, Peter went in search of someone to talk at. Perhaps he could find one of the Littletons who worked at his hospital, or even one of the residents who felt like a chat. Upon entering the residency ward, Peter spotted Charles Allen and lifted a hand in greeting. "Hello, Charles. You're looking well."

Abby opened the door to the Kemp's house and then she glanced at Peter who was standing beside her, swaying slightly. She had found him before he had finished too much of the bottle, but he still wore a hangdog expression as she took his arm and led him into the house.

Aly Kemp was seated on the sofa just surrounded by children. William, Rasputina and Tommy were playing with blocks at her feet and she was reading Lauren a book while the tiny girl fussed in her arms. She looked up when Abby walked in with her husband, and she clearly recognised the look he was giving her immediately. "Oh goodness. Did you have to drive him home?" she asked, rising to her feet and hefting Lauren onto her hip.

( I KNOW SEKRITS )