Darker London

OOC: Set after this but before Scarlett reaches out.

Thomas and Peter pulled up to the Kemp house just before Stephie arrived. Peter had gotten the message that Magnus was settled into a room and locked down, and now they could tell Tasha the news. Peter was paler than usual, and Thomas reached out for his best friend the second they were out of the car. "Hey. It's going to be okay."

Peter couldn't say anything, but he did mumble a little in the affirmative before they turned towards Stephie's arrival.

It had been Deirdre's idea.

Stephie, Tasha, and Deirdre were going to head out to find Stephie a dress for the wedding. Before they could go, however, everyone needed to have lunch and sort out what Thomas, Svetlana and the kids were going to do. And while Tasha, Stephie and Svetlana discussed it, Deirdre had gone to decide what to wear on their outing. She had heard Thomas in the hall, and dragged him in.

How he had then ended up dressed in her yellow sundress, modelling maternity wear chic, she wasn't entirely certain. Things like that just tended to happen when Thomas and Deirdre were alone together.

And then James walked in and whooped. "Yeah, work it, Dad!" he said, clapping and Thomas posed. "Stephie! Svetlana! Everyone! Dad's saying yes to the dress!" he called out.

"I'm going to try him in my floral robe next!" Deirdre said, excitedly.

The second that Svetlana, Deirdre and Thomas had gone to put the kids down for the night, it was like Stephie and Tasha both knew what the other was thinking. Which was how they ended up at the table outside, already several shots of vodka in, laughing and talking.

"Pour me another!" Tasha yelled, her arms in the air. "Celebration for leaving the city for the first time in ages! And doing so with a hottie! Do you know what Deirdre can do with her body? Dear goddess."

"If you keep looking like that, your face might freeze that way."

Peter looked up at the voice of his daughter, though the look she was referring to, dour and confused, faded away to a delighted grin. "Tasha! Please! Come save me from accounts!" He slammed his laptop shut and pushed his rolling chair away from the desk with a look of slight glee.

( Just a thing I forgot I was doinnngggg )

Deirdre had intended on having dinner over at the Kemp's house, though pregnancy brain had confused her and she ended up on the doorstep a day early. Her knock was answered by Tasha, who looked politely confused. "Hey, D," she said with a small smile. "Everything alright?"

"Yep! Is Peter here?"

( A happy accident )

The moment Tasha arrived at the Kemp house for her night at home, she sought out Peter. And when she found him, standing randomly in the kitchen sniffing various teas, she made a beeline towards him and pushed him. It wasn't all that hard, but enough to convey her emotion behind it.

Peter, who hadn't even heard her come in, looked up at her, a box of tea in hand, a very hurt and confused look on his face. "Tasha?"

( You ain't going nowhere )

Thomas could tell the second he walked in the door, that Peter was in a terrible mood. Not only did he look visibly thinner than he had a week ago, there were dark circles under his eyes; his face twisted with annoyance. "Er," Thomas paused around the door frame, his hand still in Stephie's. He had already been dreading this conversation, and now Peter looked like he wanted to throw every single person he'd ever met through a window.

"Hey," Tasha said, catching sight of Thomas, Stephie and Deirdre as they entered the room. She rose to greet them, looking apologetic. "Dad's been uhm- I think the best way to put it is 'verbally sparring'? - with the doctors and nurses for the past hour. They just left."

"They're being dicks," Peter insisted from his hospital bed.

"I rather think everyone in this room was being a dick," Tasha corrected him.

"Do- Should we come back a different day?" Thomas asked, worriedly. This was the most coherent Peter had been in a week, but what if bringing up the past now only made things worse.

"Please don't go," Peter spoke up. "I'll try really hard not to be a dick to you. You're not trying to medicate me against my will."

There was something up with Peter and Thomas thought he might go out of his mind with worry. Thomas was supposed to be the impulsive one who made stupid decisions and Peter would make his disappointed face and Thomas would either shape up or do the stupid thing anyway.

He wasn't so great when it was Peter doing the stupid thing.

He dashed into the hospital, heading towards Stephie's location. There was nothing about this situation Thomas wanted to face alone, because he had a sinking feeling he knew what this was. "Stephie," he hissed when he found her, his expression grave. "I think he's downstairs."

Tasha's hand felt bony but warm in his own, reassuring him he wasn't alone. They were stretched out on the lawn of the courtyard at RMMH, grass tickling his neck. He had come to the hospital to speak with Amaris, but decided he needed some time at the last moment. Almost as if she had been waiting for him (and Thomas did wonder if Stephie had texted her) Tasha had been there when Thomas needed her.

( Well that was eventful )

Peter pulled up outside of the Littleton duplex in the afternoon to pick Tasha up. While he was relieved that he hadn't had to come intervene in the middle of the night, he was still very glad to be picking her up. Sure Tasha hadn't been in his direct eyeline for the entirety of the last few years, but she had been in his hospital which was still technically under his supervision. He was learning how to let go again, and it was incredibly difficult.

( Best )

Tasha was only slightly second-guessing her choice to spend the night at Thomas' by the time he arrived to pick her up. Seeing the grin on his face as he walked towards her though, so radiant and proud, that she couldn't imagine dimming by changing her mind. Instead she smiled back, her own expression less radiant, but still there. "Hey, Thomas," she said, her voice fond. Thomas just carried on until he reached her, pulling her tiny frame into his gigantic arms and enveloping her in a hug.

( Trying )

The fact that it was April Fools Day had not gotten past Peter as he frantically searched the hospital for one of his helicopter pilots.

Abby had made the call to Dr Rothschild in Bristol and security was now keeping an eye on Amaris. Peter did not, however, assume that would be enough to keep her from harming anyone in the long run. They needed to get to Bristol and retrieve her so she could be safely contained in RMMH. He could not, however, find any of his pilots anywhere.

With shaking muscles, thanks to his hell of a seizure earlier, Peter traversed the hospital and texted Thomas to see if he knew where Stephie was.

He hadn't yet told Thomas that they knew where Amaris was.

When Thomas messaged back that Stephie was in the hospital with Tasha, Peter did a 180 and headed back towards his daughter's room. There he found both of them, cuddled up together, and he smiled gently at the sight of it. "Sorry to interrupt," he said softly, "I uhm...Stephie? I need to ask a favour and I really hate to ask it."

Tasha was sitting on Peter's desk, legs crossed, facing the door, when he stepped inside. Her stomach twisted at the look of relief on his face when he caught sight of her, and she took a long drag of her e-cig, letting the steam curl out of her mouth slowly.

( That life goes on without you awake? )

The decision to have their family Christmas in the hospital had been Tasha's own. She was still lucid (still!) and Peter had suggested that she might come home for the family celebration. He had, however, only hesitated for a second when she admitted she wasn't ready but they could come to her. It was still a huge step in a hopeful direction and Peter didn't allow himself to be saddened by the fact that she was afraid to return home. She had very purposely used the word 'yet' and so Peter clung to that word with a vice-grip, and set about decorating his office within an inch of it's life.

( The Kringle Touch )

Stephie was always a little bit terrified every time she visited Tasha.

The bad days were hard. Harder than hard. The bad days when Stephie couldn’t hope to reach Tasha because Tasha’s waking nightmare ran so deep. The bad days tore Stephie into hopeless, angry pieces. Hopeless because the bad days kept coming. Angry at the demon for doing this to her. And fear – god, so much fear. If Valentin had had Stephie for longer… then their places could have been so easily reversed. Stephie was familiar enough with her own paranoia that it was not hard to imagine projecting it out so it was as extreme as Tasha’s.

( ... )

Hope's entire afternoon had been spent listening to her mothers coo over her cousin's kids. Sure, she like Phoebe and Cassandra well enough, but it was like Liz and Emma thought the toddlers were somehow the secnd coming of Christ. They exclaimed over Daria's pregnant belly, and talked about the idea of more twins, and four kids running around, and Hope decided then and there she had to get out.

( What about me )

Life was exhausting.

Trying to find poor Astrid with clues amounting to a pile of nothing was exhausting.

Trying to be strong was exhausting.

( I like the word exhausting )

After having tea with Thomas, Peter excused himself to head to the hospital.

If these headaches he was having recently really were a recurrence of his brain tumours, he was going to have to go through a lot of crap before he was better. There might be chemo and pain and surgery again, or they could decide not to treat like the first time he had had it. The cancer had run its course and Peter had been unable to remember his family or even who he was by the end of it.

( Decay )