To say that she was a little confused would be mild. When Peter wrapped himself around her and held tight, she dropped her willowy arms around him in response and rested her chin on his shoulder. There was something desperate about the embrace, and she recognized it. Whatever it was, she knew Peter could handle it -- but by now, she'd learned that she helped by being present and available to him. That's what she was, now, even if she didn't understand why.
Her fingers pat his shoulderblade gently. When Eric came inside and leaned against the back of the door, she grinned at him over Peter's shoulder, but didn't move or say a word. Peter felt... bad.
At length, she finally asked the best question she could manage:
"Is something bad?" And she meant it for either of them - for both of them - for whomever could answer.