Peter nearly cringed at the sight of the man she let flash in his mind. It wasn't just the image, but the feelings that went with it, feelings that were not his, but that he was helpless to ignore. Revoltion, fear, anger. More of that emptiness. And then she moved her hand to her stomach, and Peter shut his eyes, gently squeezing her hand.
"I'm so sorry, Elisabeth. I can't..." He let his words fade, unspoken. There was nothing he could say that could ever help. So instead, Peter slid closer and wordlessly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, a gentle motion that invited her to the embrace, but wouldn't force contact on her if she didn't want it.