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Peter is cold.
The house is always cold, he watches from the window the world outside, fog covers the grounds and makes it all look washed out, muffled even, he can barely see the trees of the forest.
He hears steps outside.
Judith was trying to get him to play a game, she knocked on his door and he stayed quiet in sheer terror. Bad things happen if he answers the door, if he makes noise or speaks too loudly.
She knocks only twice, a bird's knock.
After two minutes she walks away. Peter hugs his legs tighter.
Flash forward-
Peter finds a baby bird that fell from a nest, its tiny, even tinier than his fist, he is seven at the time. He doesn't know much about the world yet, he only sees the half torn apart body of the mother on the ground and the little baby bird making pitiful noises. He picks it up carefully between his hands, Peter remember seeing in all the colorful illustrated books on the house that he could find that birds eat bugs that their moms chew for them. So with that idea in mind he manages to get a few worms and squashes them to slowly feed the animal by giving it chunks. He hides the bird in his room for an entire week, Its in a shoe box, but during that entire time he manages to give it water and worm bits, keeping it safe from the outside world. He is oddly proud of himself to keep it alive for that long.
He smiles at the creature and caresses its tiny head softly, Peter has started to pick it up very often because he can feel its tiny heartbeat pick up, showing him that it was alive. He even lets it nap on his chest while he thinks about a name for ti, he never had to pick a name for anything so it takes him some time. He doesn't say it outloud, but he thinks Celeste is a nice one, it has a lovely ring to it.
That doesnt last because the next day when he comes back from his lessons to check on Celeste but the box is gone.
When he goes outside he sees the baby bird dead in the same spot her mother died.
Peter doesn't try to get pets from then on till his adult years.
Flash forward-
Clara was gone on her birthday.
Then Lydia.
Soon Aaron is no more and finally... Judith gives him a forget me not its just them by then. The flower grew in the gardens like weeds, no one took them away, because for the familuy it had a bittersweet meaning.
His sister holds his hand and for the first time in his life, Peter is hugged. Its rushed and wrong because it will get him in trouble but it also aches.
It aches because it happens-
It aches because he doesn't want it to end-
Then the next day she is shipped away to some far away place and he never sees her again.
Peter knows his siblings were bad, that's the only explanation his brain can conjure up, because its easier to think there was something wrong with them and that's why they were taken away and not that maybe- just maybe he is not that far off from that. That uncle’s and mother’s appraisal is fickle and he is also one step away from being a dissapointment and dissapearing, that Peter is nothing and no one. The thought eats at him so he just tries to ignore it and pin the blame on the others to try and attempt to feel better about his situation.
He keeps the forget me not in a box hidden under the floorboards, inside there is the drawing of the sky that Lydia left him, the lighter that Clara stole and used to burn the curtains with- it was empty he took it from the trash- the piece of the ghost doll Aaron made that was destroyed. He kept the face with the two buttons sewed oddly.
Fragments, figments.
Stolen moments.
Flash forward-
Peter doesn't have anything of his own, everything there is can be taken away. His room is never the same. He only picks up the box when he ends up there. Afraid that if he takes it away it will be discovered and disposed off.
It… makes him oddly angry.
He can't keep anything of his own.
Books, clothes, toys-
Its all picked by someone else just as it is taken away.
The only things he can keep are Simon’s gifts. He is too young to understand why they let him keep the adventure book with the big pictures, why no one touches the model ship and map. They are the only things that are always moved to his room. He is too young to comprehend that an old man is fond of him, that his family might have the fog, but Simon has the vast and he has been an avatar for longer. If he gives him stuff, it will remain.
To Peter none of that is of his concern, he only likes to trace the drawings of the ships and think of how it would look in real life.
Flash forward-
Peter struggles to read.
The letters are always blurry, he has to squint a lot and it makes his head ache a lot. His handwritting is sloppy too, making it take forever to write his answers on his homework. The combination of factors causes Peter to hate reading, mostly because it makes him feel stupid and wrong.
In his frustration he chucks the book that he was reading, the object falls with a thud on the carpet. Peter for his part hugs his arms and starts to cry. He is very, very stupid. Uncle Nathaniel said that Conrad was getting high grades and could read at a higher level. Even if mother never looked at him, he could feel her disappointed gaze upon his back.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He picks up the children's ship book Simon gave him and traces the pages. The words are big and easy to read, they don't blur so much, plus the drawings are pretty and detailed, still Peter bites the end of his sleeve and then he also bites his lip and nails in panic.
Calm down- calm down- mother doesn't like tears, you have to be good.
Flash forward-
Peter hides.
He is curled up in a ball under the bed. He messed up, it was one of his cousin's weddings, and he ended up knocking on the table and breaking glass. Everyone stared, Mother turned to him- or he thinks she did. Peter stays quiet and slowly walks away. No one stops him, but he feels his skin itch.
Shame.
He cries under the bed, wishes not for the first time that he didn't exist, maybe if he was like the fog outside it wouldn't hurt so much to be such a screw up. Maybe they would be happier.
Peter cries all night long and no one comes.
Flash forward-
He was special, cousin Conrad couldn't use the fog like he did, couldn't hide with it. He was good with math and words and reading- but he wasn't feeding their god like he did.
Peter had, even if small, a purpose. A reason to be. That's what he repeats to himself, he has this.
Years later he knows he only has his ship, that his cousin is doing bigger things, that he gets the Daedalus project and Peter looks at the news once and turns it off with dread.
He thinks about his failed ritual.
Shame, shame, so much shame. He fails all the time.
Still he smiles and talks cheerfully, time to do another sacrifice. Its the only thing he is good for, staying on his small piece of the world he carved for himself.
Flash forward-
Peter stares at his mother, she is standing right in front of him.
Peter is calm.
Peter is a liar.
Peter cannot see his mothers face because it just doesn't exist, where it should be he can only see fog. Her hair, her body, it's all there. But she has no discernable face.
Lydia and Clara had her hair-
Did they…?
He can't remember how they looked very well. He knows Judith, Aaron and him looked similar, had the same hair color but-
What was their eye color?
Was it blue like his? Did they have freckles like him?
His mother asks him something- or he thinks she did? It's impossible to know. He just nods. He fears her disappointment.
What did his siblings look like again…?
Flash-
Peter takes the box when he leaves for the Tundra, hides it in his meager suitcase. Its so small it occupies less space than he thought.
Simon congratulates him, he gives him a hat and a coat, it was… way too big for him, when he asked he said that he would probably grow into it.
“After all, you have Mordechai’s built, honestly your family only has two looks, big or lean. Or… sharp and soft! I'm betting on you being more on the big and soft side… Yes, that feels fitting! You sisters were into the sharp and lean, at least the oldest ones. The other one I think was harder to know-” Simon talks his ear off and he wonders.
“How did my dad look then?” He stops and looks at Peter in surprise.
“....soft, i can't recall his face much, he was… a bit of a wreck But I recall the wedding, your mother was all sharp angles while he looked more… soft. Nervous even, they picked her as his wife” Peter can't really imagine it, he tries to, very hard, but nothing comes to mind, his mother’s face was a mystery, his father… was just not there.
“You got his eyes an hair! The Lukas look, if that helps any” It doesn't, not really but he smiles and nods politely.
Flash forward-
When Peter gets sick he passes out and just… stays still. Like a dying animal, he never got anyone to look after him when he felt bad, had to pass it though, he had general checks up with faceless doctors once in a while, but-
But he never got to have anyone look after him when he gets a cold or a faver.
He just stayed in bed and fell asleep until it passed.
It's what he does.
…
Peter feels a cold hand against his forehead and a tch.
“You fool” He complains, feels himself being touched and its both horrifying and good.
Its scary how good it feels.
Someone hums and makes him take something and drink a bit. Then he is laid over something cooler.
He hears a heartbeat. He thinks of the bird and he cries a bit.
“Msorry, did not meant to-”
“You are incoherent-”
“Sorry I got you killed-” Someone sighs and he feels something warm on his forehead. Peter thinks of being sick and alone in bed, of shivering and crying and being afraid to make a noise. Thinks of being afraid of being locked up and forgotten, being afraid that no one would notice or care.
He remembers-
“Rabbit?” A tiny hand on his forehead and something cool being laid over it.
“Don't wanna die, sorry will be good”
…
…
“Sometimes… sometimes i do want to murder your family” Peter doesnt understand, he cant, he only cries quietly, or as quiet as he can, he never managed to not let up a few hiccups.
Peter wakes up in bed. Elias was sitting down reading and he had his head on his lap.
“I will make something warm dear, let me finish reading” Peter stays quiet, he isnt in the mood to fight, to talk, to admit to….
A cold hand presses coldly against his warm skin, he nuzzles it.
Its quiet and its comfortable.
“Do you want glasses?” Peter is toying with his ring, he likes the feeling of twisting it.
“What for?” Elias pokes his cheek.
“For reading, your vision sucks” he blinks at him.
“It doesn't” His husband sighs.
“Peter…” He looks elsewhere.
“Don't need 'em, don't read much” Elias caresses his jaw.
“You can work out the crossword puzzles faster” He hesitates.
He likes doing them, he can take his time, they are silly and there is no pressure to finish them.
Peter tries to read with the new glasses and he sees perfectly. When he looks to Elias he can see him clearly, its not that he couldn't before, but-
But he sees him better.
He kind of traces his fingers over his cheek in wonder.
“You got a few crows feet there love” He slaps his hand away and berates him.
Still they hold hands when they walk through the park later on so he wasnt that mad to begin with.
Peter has his own things, Elias asks if he can move them.
“Listen as much as i loooove, slipping and hitting my head, I do need you to put those somewhere else” Even when he leaves for months expecting everything to be somewhere else-
It isn't. Elias lets it all exactly where Peter left it and if he does move it he puts it back where it was and tells him.
Peter finds a kitten, small, sick, the one left behind by everyone else.
He takes it with and names it Captain.
Peter doesn't lose his cat, he loves it more than anything, well… not more than his god but maybe close to Elias' level.
One day Peter wakes up and he is in bed with his cats and husband, Elias is curled up against him. His face is hidden on the crook of his neck.
Peter is lonely, maybe a bit stupid and… he knows he is expendable, has always been. To his mother and Elias. Albeit… he is upfront about it in a way he appreciates.
He died already once, but the lonely put him back together.
This is his, this whole carved out place is his. Even the Tundra could be taken away, but not this , not really, not until he does for real.
And Peter, unlike all his ancestors who chose to live a normal lifespan, wants to stick around. He will bug the hell out of Elias and their inmortal cats for as long as the world remains in one piece.
They are stuck still, the whole pandemic put the world in pause.
But…. he hasn't been happier than in the past few months. He will cherish it once he has to leave again.
Peter is alive and is well.