( His head falls forwards and Falco's shoulder is there — solid and safe and Peter's letting himself be held like a child. It only feels natural that his arms should wind around the smaller body supporting him, long limbs latching on; he tilts his face to bury it more against the side of the boy's head, and clings to him.
To be given such mercies by Falco, of all people, feels — wrong, somehow. Peter doesn't deserve such mercy, such kindness, such forgiveness. Such understanding. The soft soothing gestures to his back, the attempts to reassure. This boy should be flinching back from him, even if in his gentle ways; Peter knows Falco could never be cruel. Never that. But that he can so willingly be close to him after seeing what he'd done...
He doesn't deserve this, and yet he clings to it all the same, because he wants this. He's wanted it for so long. Dreams of Charlie are usually painful, frightening, but sometimes in a dream.... he's simply reaching down to hug her again. He misses it, knows he took such a thing for granted, knows those pinprick annoyances and resentments of his offbeat little sister made him shrug away from her with age. When was the last time he hugged Charlie, really hugged her? She was never too affectionate, never liked to be, but— when was the last time?
Did she die thinking he didn't like being close to her? That she was a burden? Did she did thinking he wished she wasn't there?
His eyes are closed, but the tears are slipping down, soft and cold and staining Falco's shirt collar. He's listening as the younger boy speaks, even if he can't quite reply yet — 'we', Falco keeps saying. 'We, us.' He understands on some level, and of course there's Falco's message from just moments ago:
if it worked the way you're saying it does because you made a mistake i deserve a lot of things
And then come the words that steal Peter's breathing, make him shudder with an almost convulsive little motion, make his fingers find purchase in the back of Falco's shirt, curling in tightly.
'That's who I love, and Charlie does, too'
He doesn't know how he could remain sitting up at all. Everything feels too weak, like he's a doll with the stuffing ripped right out, like he's in threat of crumbling up into something that's just skin. But of course, the reason he's able to still sit up is because Falco is supporting him.
Peter's moaning the words into the boy's neck. Words doubling to Charlie that he didn't get to say, words to Falco in some apology; in the moment, the boy is his sister too, as though her ghost's slipped right into his skin, as Peter holds on. He loves them both. )
I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I love you, I'm sorry....
another unnecessarily long essay omg.....
To be given such mercies by Falco, of all people, feels — wrong, somehow. Peter doesn't deserve such mercy, such kindness, such forgiveness. Such understanding. The soft soothing gestures to his back, the attempts to reassure. This boy should be flinching back from him, even if in his gentle ways; Peter knows Falco could never be cruel. Never that. But that he can so willingly be close to him after seeing what he'd done...
He doesn't deserve this, and yet he clings to it all the same, because he wants this. He's wanted it for so long. Dreams of Charlie are usually painful, frightening, but sometimes in a dream.... he's simply reaching down to hug her again. He misses it, knows he took such a thing for granted, knows those pinprick annoyances and resentments of his offbeat little sister made him shrug away from her with age. When was the last time he hugged Charlie, really hugged her? She was never too affectionate, never liked to be, but— when was the last time?
Did she die thinking he didn't like being close to her? That she was a burden? Did she did thinking he wished she wasn't there?
His eyes are closed, but the tears are slipping down, soft and cold and staining Falco's shirt collar. He's listening as the younger boy speaks, even if he can't quite reply yet — 'we', Falco keeps saying. 'We, us.' He understands on some level, and of course there's Falco's message from just moments ago:
if it worked the way you're saying it does
because you made a mistake
i deserve a lot of things
And then come the words that steal Peter's breathing, make him shudder with an almost convulsive little motion, make his fingers find purchase in the back of Falco's shirt, curling in tightly.
'That's who I love, and Charlie does, too'
He doesn't know how he could remain sitting up at all. Everything feels too weak, like he's a doll with the stuffing ripped right out, like he's in threat of crumbling up into something that's just skin. But of course, the reason he's able to still sit up is because Falco is supporting him.
Peter's moaning the words into the boy's neck. Words doubling to Charlie that he didn't get to say, words to Falco in some apology; in the moment, the boy is his sister too, as though her ghost's slipped right into his skin, as Peter holds on. He loves them both. )
I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I love you, I'm sorry....