Be Careful What You Ask For (Closed to Peter)

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Liz walked numbly through the Inn after having spoken with Emma. It was as if her body were on autopilot as her mind couldn't really focus or process anything directly. What it all meant, how she felt, if she was around to see it happen - these questions were like vague fog in her mind that she couldn't quite grasp.

She thought, ever so briefly, that she might find herself in front of Kitty or Piotr's door, but it was Peter's door she came to a stop at. Liz swayed a little as she stood there, staring blankly at the door. She did that for a good five minutes before she was able to will herself to lift her hand and knock. It was a quiet two rap knock.

When the door opened, when she lay eyes on Peter, the numbness seemed to ebb a little. She stared at him silently, then slowly her face began to twist and contort as anguish spread through her features. She didn't move an inch except for her face. Everything suddenly felt intense and Liz stood there, stiff, and started to cry unabashedly. Cried with every fiber of her being.

Comments

[st_arkintern]

"Liz!"

Peter immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her inside, shutting the door with his foot behind them.

His arms are still around her when he pulls just far enough away to look Liz in the face. He frowns. It didn't feel right to ask her if she was okay, because he knew with one look that she wasn't. Instead he asks:

"What happened?"

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Liz can't seem to find the words at the moment. She looked at him and opened her mouth, but a sob came out instead. It wasn't cute or reserved. Her whole body shook with it and she couldn't quite breathe enough to form words yet.

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Peter leads her further into the room, one arm looped over her back, the other one grasping one of her hands. He sits her down at the edge of his bed, gives her hand a quick squeeze, then heads over to the table.

He scoops some ice from the ice bucket into a single cup, the ice cubes gently clinking against the glass. And once the ice bucket is recapped, he reaches for the pitcher and pours a glass of water.

He brings it back over to Liz and offers it to her.

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When Peter walked away, Liz's crying seemed to subside a little to less violent sobbing. She wiped away at her face, trying to dry her face. But when he came back and she made eye contact with Peter again, her face twisted anew and there was renewed crying despite herself. Somehow, though, she managed to hold onto the glass water, though it shook as she tried to get her crying under control.

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Peter stretches a hand out to his nightstand and grabs the box of tissues sitting there then sits down next to Liz, the tissues sitting in his lap.

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It took her another good minute before she was able to actually breathe again instead of gasping sobs. With her free hand, she managed to reach out and take a tissue, wiping her face with it though it didn't do much for the redness. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, as she looked down a the ice in the water.

"Max Evans broke my heart."

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Peter is puzzled by this explanation. He got the feeling that Max broke her hearts dozen of times. But when she talked about Max, it was never --

-- it was never as emotional as this.

Peter sets a hand down on her back, not sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened?" he asks again.

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She closed her eyes, feeling like an idiot.

Why had she thought that would work?

"I, um.. I asked Emma to read my tarot cards." She sniffed a little, her body shaking with a quiet exhale as it still tried to calm itself. "She can see the future. Um. She calls it precognition."

That part was easy to explain. The next part was harder.

"I.. I wanted to know what happens in my future. If I go back and what happens." Or if she managed, somehow, to go back with Peter. It had a lot to do with what they had talked about before on Tuesday.

There was a long pause as she tried to push the next words out of her mouth. It was hard like saying it out loud made it true, even though she knew it was true already.

"...Max slept with Tess. And got Tess pregnant."

Her lip quivered, but she pressed them together, determined not to sob again.

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"Oh."

The word comes out softly, almost inaudibly, and it's really the only thing Peter can think of to say because no one really prepares you for the prospect of having a conversation with your girlfriend about her ex-boyfriend getting another girl pregnant.

Peter steadied his hand on Liz's back.

"Was he --" Peter swallows, not sure if he should be asking this. "-- was he with you when it happened?"

Were they still together?

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She held onto the glass of water with both her hands.

"I don't know... I guess we had an argument of some kind." Liz's one saving grace was she didn't have to see or experience it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd handle that if she had. She already felt bad for Emma having to see that.

"I can't believe he'd do that. I can't believe.... with Tess."

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Peter takes a breath and looks across the room at the wall. And then he looks back down at Liz. His chest seizes up just looking at her. He hates seeing her sad like this, but he feels powerless to do anything about it.

He can't believe Max would do something like this to Liz. He had no idea what he was wasting.

Peter wishes he wasn't so useless in situations like these. He wishes that he had something he could say and it'd make Liz laugh or forget about Tess and Max for even a second. But he's pretty sure that even with his best efforts, that wouldn't happen.

"Liz, I'm no good at this kind of stuff," he says. "When I open my mouth, I just start babbling, and I don't want to do that right now."

He feels like he's starting to babble right now.

"If you tell me what you need me to do... and I can do it, I will."

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Even though she was holding a tissue, Liz used the back of her hand to wipe at her face again.

The truth was Liz wasn't sure what she needed at the moment. Not really. What did you say to something like that? What could you do? It wasn't like anyone could turn back time and take back from happened. It would forever be a thing and Max now had a child, too. He had a family and it wasn't with her.

"...I want to forget. I want to just forget everything about Max Evans."

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Something catches in his throat when she says that. Maybe if he were some other guy, he'd be relieved to know -- to really know that Max Evans, the handsome alien ex of his girlfriend, was no longer a threat to their relationship.

But Peter wasn't that guy, and he couldn't feel that way.

There's not much he can do; memory wiping powers wasn't something he could do, and they weren't stuck at Lacuna Inc.'s offices, they were stuck here.

So instead, he rubs Liz's back because he always found it comforting when he was upset and May rubbed his.

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She stared dumbly at the water in the glass for a long moment or two. Then she stood up and deposited it on the closest counter before turning around. Her feet, again, felt like they were on their own path. She still felt rather numb all over.

Liz walked back over to Peter. She stood facing him, her legs almost touching his knees where he sat.

He was so kind and nice and caring and wonderful and so many other things.

She leaned in to kiss him, hands moving to either side of his face.

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Peter lets her.

He lets her because he thinks that for right now, this might be what she needs. He kisses her, hoping that like Curnen's songs, he can just communicate something to her without actually having to say the words.

But when he finally pulls away, he says them anyway:

"I love you, Liz."

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A small tear pressed out form her eye at his words - words she definitely needed to hear even if she already knew how he felt. There was almost a nod in acknowledgement from her as she held his gaze for a moment. She loved him too. She was certain of it.

Still the ache didn't seem to go away completely, though it had edged a little.

"Touch me, Peter... I want you to put your hands on me. I want to feel like I'm - Like I'm yours."

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"Liz," Peter says, placing a hand over one of the ones still on his face. "I can't do that right now. Not when you're upset like this."

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Her brow furrowed, a look of desperation and hurt. "Please." Her voice cracked a little, hoarse again. Another tear wet her cheek.

"Please"

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It's hard for Peter to resist her pleas, because he just wants her to feel okay and know that she's loved and if keeps saying no, she's going to think that he doesn't.

"Liz, we can't," he says. "You're upset. When you're feeling better, yeah, but not -- not right now."

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She nodded numbly, the look on her face not shifting one way or the other, but she pulls her hands away and they hang by her side. She nodded again.

Liz stood there with the same almost-vacant stare as she did when she stood outside his door. Unable to look at Peter, her lips occasionally pressed tight together as Liz fended off a quiver or a sob.

"I should... I should probably go." Her voice seemed numb and hoarse and distant and it took her a moment before her weight shifts from what foot to the other foot, turning to leave.

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Peter's hand catches her wrist before she can get out of reach; Peter stands, feeling lost and confused and suddenly insecure.

"Liz, you don't have to go."

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She stopped, paused, then turned back to look at Peter. Unlike her usual demeanour that had some semblance of self-assuredness, Liz was utterly at a loss right now.

"I don't know how to make it stop hurting." She brought her hand to her chest. "Everything aches."

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"It's not going to stop hurting," he says. "Not immediately. I know that probably doesn't help, but... that's just how these things are."

It's something that Peter knows from experience.

"I don't want to do anything sexual with you. Not now when you're feeling like this."

Peter takes a breath.

"But I can hold you."

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Liz looked at Peter. Somewhere deep down she knew Peter was doing the right thing. That him having these boundaries made him a good boyfriend and she'd be grateful to him. But at the moment, she felt like he had the power to take the pain away completely and wouldn't do it. It hurt.

Still, the idea of leaving - of being in her room by herself - she nodded.

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Peter shifts his hand down from her wrist into her hand, and leads her back to the bed. He kicks off his shoes and then lays down first, a single arm extended out imploringly, encouraging Liz to join him.