It’s a normal day, there’s no reason anything should be out of place. But somehow the sky seems just a little bit darker, the sky smells a little bit more like ozone. Everyone seems to be going through something, like a shockwave has rolled through town, thrown everyone off balance.
Peter curls into Rose a little bit more, she tightens her hold just a little bit more. They are sitting in a pile of blankets and pillows and everything else that would be even vaguely comfortable, as well as some things that aren’t. They are tucked against a wall and are as secure as they are ever going to get. They still don’t feel settled.
“I’ve been having dreams lately,” Peter whispers, so softly that only Rose could have possibly understood him. The confession hangs in the air, Rose not quite up to replying but still encouraging.
“I’m always shouting, or screaming. There’s always someone, you know?” This conversation feels like a continuation of many they have had over the time they’ve lived in this town.
“There’s always a reason to be mad, always a reason to hurt someone. And you already know that I don't care, that’s not the reason I'm upset.” He tilts his head up at this and rests it on the wall. He’s crying now. There's a breath in the moment before he starts talking again.
“And I know you’ll protest, you’ll tell me that there’s nothing wrong with me but… I just- I feel so broken, so empty, not even able to dredge up a single ounce of empathy for them. There’s nothing wrong with them! I know. They’re all fine people, they haven’t done anything to me. And still, I don't care. I’m still having these dreams.” His voice feels like the sea, he rises in volume, begins stumbling over his words, takes too long to say them, and quiets at the end, so inconceivably tired. He hangs his head.
Rose leans her head on his shoulder and presses herself just a little bit tighter against him. She doesn’t understand what he’s going through, she wouldn’t be here in this town, away from everyone she ever met if she didn’t agree with him in some form, but, her sense of betrayal is turned all the way up into apathy for him.
“That’s alright. You don’t need to worry about that. So what if you don’t like them, you don’t owe them anything. They don’t get a say in how you think of them, we left.” Her voice isn’t soft but is a whisper nonetheless. She can’t fix his thinking, he isn’t wrong, but this isn’t his problem to worry about. What’s the point of leaving if he intends to drag his baggage with him anyway? She can’t soothe all of his worries, but she can be there for him anyway.
He puts his head on top of hers and rests. They understand each other in a way that no one else can. Nobody has tried, and they wouldn’t be inclined to let them. This understanding is why he hears what she says afterwards. There are no words from her, she had never been the most talkative however bold she may be.
That does not mean she does not tell him. He hears her when she tells him that she also has a problem. She says that she had been thinking of them again, she can’t stop wondering why there was never anyone else. It was only ever the two of them, no one else tried. She’s protective and fierce, but that’s useless when there’s nobody to protect. She can shadow Peter all she wants, but that doesn’t stop her from giving her all to the people she still has in her heart. It hurts, she aches with an ever-growing sadness, a mess of thoughts about why she left, about how she could have ever abandoned them.
Peter holds her closer, even though there isn’t any space between them already. He can’t do anything to soothe her worries, these are the same problems that they’ve always had. They have off periods sometimes, and they can only support each other through them.