[ Charlie just shrugs. Peter was the one who called him a liar, and Charlie simply felt the need to correct him.
Ah. He makes a mental note that they’ll have to find a river or a lake later to take care of Peter’s things. For now, he lets Peter tug a shirt on, because the last thing he wants is for Peter to feel exposed thanks to the Mark on his back. ]
I’ve been slumming it as an apothecary for the last year and some change. You have no idea how many books on herbs I had to read.
Not sure if “slumming it” is the phrase I’d use, if I were your position.
[ He says it light, at least, as he carefully sits back against the curved wall of the tree trunk. It’s awkward, maneuvering himself slightly to one side to keep from putting pressure on the freshly dressed wound, but he keeps himself facing forward to address Charlie directly. ]
You’ve been alright, though? No surprises? [ This, too, comes out blandly, though he studies Charlie carefully. What he’s really asking is, Any unpleasant run-ins, lately? ]
[ He shrugs a shoulder, makes a light little noise from the back of his throat. Blithely, ]
Pigs are smart.
[ But he’ll leave it at that. When Charlie turns the question back on him, Peter makes a noncommittal sort of noise. ]
Same as it ever was with you.
[ A pause, and while that is more or less the truthful answer, part of him feels compelled to admit just how damn lonely it had been without Charlie there. But that’s too much to spring on the guy, especially given that he had already heard notes of guilt in Charlie’s voice earlier when, after a year and a half apart, he finally admitted to why he had left in the first place.
(He doesn’t know if anyone’s ever felt the need to “protect him” since his days as a child, and later, the idea will seem novel. Amusing, even. Right now, it just sounds ridiculous.) ]
... Only, you know. [ This, a little wryly, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. ] Quieter.
[ Charlie echoes Peter's smirk with one of his own, and he nearly nudges him in the side with his boot, thinking better of it at the last moment considering Peter is convalescing. ]
[ He keeps up the charade for a moment or two longer, as if he needed to give the concept some serious thought. He relents at last, though, shoulders dropping a little as he lets out a quiet breath. ]
May have. At least a little.
[ (a lot.) ]
Why didn’t you ever... [ A pause, and he starts over. ] If that whistle was a straight shot to me, why didn’t you ever just... show up?
I had no way of knowing where you were until you used it.
[ There’s a pause, and his gaze slides down to his lap. His shoulders jump a little in what could be considered a shrug, the motion closed in and small. ]
And maybe that was me being a coward and leaving everything in your hands.
[ Peter looks across the space at Charlie, trying to study him – which is a little difficult to do, with the way he’s ducked his head to avoid Peter’s gaze. At length, Peter settles on, ]
... In retrospect, that was a seriously bad idea.
[ A thread of amusement winds through his voice, soft and almost barely there. ]
Especially considering I— didn’t actually think it’d work.
[ He echoes the laugh, shaking his head a little. ]
Probably could’ve been worse, though.
[ Which is hardly consolation, but there it is.
He glances at the opening of the log and listening for any sounds – nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he can tell. The old team was probably thrown completely off the scent with Charlie’s trick, and the coil of worry winding in his gut loosens a little. He tips his head back against the rough wood. ]
[ He falls quiet for a few moments, listening as well. He imagines that Peter’s old team probably ran themselves ragged for a while chasing nothing, but they probably realized by now that they’d been tricked somehow. Charlie vaguely wonders how many of them know about Peter’s Mark. Maybe they’d be inclined to blame that for the reason he apparently vanished into thin air.
Who knows? But he does hope he and Peter left too little to mark their passing to be followed out here for now. ]
I don’t know. I should have asked, but where even are we?
Quaint little place called Milden. [ The corner of his mouth quirks up in a small smile. ] Farming community, mostly, pretty far from the trade roads. Barely worth being here, to tell you the truth. Pretty sure even the workhorses don’t wanna be here, but I was supposed to meet someone for a job.
[ And the amusement leaves him as he heaves out a breath. ]
[ Charlie has to really rack his brain to figure out just where in the hells Milden is, and once his mental map more or less orients itself, he frowns. ]
Damn. We really are out in the middle of fucking nowhere.
[ Peter offers a humorless little smile in return, standing in place of a verbal agreement. ]
Should’ve seen this coming. [ Flatly, with an edge of irritation. ] Should’ve known those bastards were bound to catch up with me.
[ he brings up a hand to scrub at his face, but he frowns at the dried blood stuck to his skin and thinks better of it, letting his hand drop back to his lap. He tries to scrape it off with his nails ]
Can’t imagine this was the kinda day you had planned.
[ Charlie heaves a sigh, plucking up the rag he’d used earlier as he hauls himself forward. He manages to find a clean edge of the cloth, and he takes Peter’s hand in his, running the cloth over the dried smears of blood. ]
I told you already, I didn’t have to answer that whistle. I’m here because I wanted to be, so stop trying to apologize.
[ He goes rigid as Charlie moves in close again, resisting for a brief second as Charlie takes hold of his hand. His mouth goes dry for a second as he studies Charlie, surprised, before he manages to school his expression back into something a little more neutral. His gaze drops to their hands again, watching as Charlie wipes away the almost brown splotches stuck to his palms. ]
Who’s apologizing?
[ Peter. Peter was apologizing. Again. Or was trying to, until Charlie interrupted him. He licks his lips, fidgeting a little without pulling his hand away. ]
So. [ A little awkwardly, but he needs the topic change before “sorry” slips from his lips again. ] Apothecary, huh?
[ Softly, as he keeps his eyes on their hands. He could point out that Peter was the one trying to apologize, but it’s clear this is an attempt at a subject change. ]
I kind of stumbled into it. I found this little village and the kids— they were all sick. I stuck around to help out and just sort of didn't leave.
[ He scrubs at Peter's hand for a few moments, a quiet little smile curving his lips. ]
It was nice, yeah.
[ His gaze flicks up, and he catches Peter's gaze, and it really hits him just how close they are. How much he's missed Peter. How terrified he'd been of losing him, which ultimately spurred his decision to part ways in the first place.
A year and half might be a long time, but there wasn't a day that he didn't miss this, miss Peter. ]
... Lonely, though.
[ It comes out much quieter than he intends it to. ]
[ He licks his lips, almost frozen in place by the weight of Charlie's eyes on his – that shade of blue that had always struck him as uniquely Charlie. It's been over year, which is hardly any time, if he's honest, but more than enough to feel like ages.
And despite the hellish conditions of those six months together, staying one step ahead of the far-reaching hands of Charlie's family, Peter can comfortably say those six months were probably the most content he's ever been. ]
... I missed you.
[ The words tumble out before he can stop them. A combination of blood loss, exhaustion, and how terribly jarring it was to have his past catch up with him, tampering with his ability to keep his mouth shut. Or at least, that's the excuse he'll probably give later.
And the thought gains momentum, tumbling like an avalanche. ]
I never wanted you to go in the first place. I wanted to ask you to stay, you know? [ Only a little above a whisper, guilt in his voice like he's admitting to some all but forgotten crime. His gaze drops to their joined hands. ]
I thought— I thought we had a decent thing going. I wanted to see where it led us, but I just— didn't want to be another asshole who forced you into something you didn't want to do. So when you said— when you said you wanted to leave...
[ And he trails off lamely, shoulders hunching up a little. ]
[ Peter’s words hit him like a punch in the gut, the guilt in his tone causing the same to rise in the back of Charlie’s throat like bile, sour and sharp. He had convinced himself of a lot of things while they were apart, namely that it was better this way. It was better for Peter not to have to deal with the burden of keeping Charlie alive and safe.
In truth, Charlie had been scared. Scared of what something happening to Peter would do to him. He couldn’t bear that sorrow after Robert’s death, he couldn’t, and so he decided to run away once more.
His grip on Peter’s hand tightens. ]
Gods, Peter. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know… I— I thought—
No, that’s a lie. I convinced myself that when you didn’t say anything that you wanted to end this. It made the decision hurt less. It made it easier to turn tail and run. I was being selfish and stupid, because I didn’t want to be responsible if something happened.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to sort myself out, and I’m… okay, mostly. Getting there, anyway, but I do know that I never really wanted to leave you behind.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Ah. He makes a mental note that they’ll have to find a river or a lake later to take care of Peter’s things. For now, he lets Peter tug a shirt on, because the last thing he wants is for Peter to feel exposed thanks to the Mark on his back. ]
I’ve been slumming it as an apothecary for the last year and some change. You have no idea how many books on herbs I had to read.
no subject
[ He says it light, at least, as he carefully sits back against the curved wall of the tree trunk. It’s awkward, maneuvering himself slightly to one side to keep from putting pressure on the freshly dressed wound, but he keeps himself facing forward to address Charlie directly. ]
You’ve been alright, though? No surprises? [ This, too, comes out blandly, though he studies Charlie carefully. What he’s really asking is, Any unpleasant run-ins, lately? ]
Aside from today, obviously.
no subject
[ Charlie positions himself opposite Peter, back against the inside of the log, feet propped up on the wall somewhere alongside Peter’s middle.
In spite of Peter’s casual tone- overly casual, perhaps- he’s aware of what the mercenary means by “surprises” and shakes his head. ]
Not really. It’s mostly just been me and the flowers and herbs.
What about you? Have you been doing all right? You know, aside from today.
no subject
Pigs are smart.
[ But he’ll leave it at that. When Charlie turns the question back on him, Peter makes a noncommittal sort of noise. ]
Same as it ever was with you.
[ A pause, and while that is more or less the truthful answer, part of him feels compelled to admit just how damn lonely it had been without Charlie there. But that’s too much to spring on the guy, especially given that he had already heard notes of guilt in Charlie’s voice earlier when, after a year and a half apart, he finally admitted to why he had left in the first place.
(He doesn’t know if anyone’s ever felt the need to “protect him” since his days as a child, and later, the idea will seem novel. Amusing, even. Right now, it just sounds ridiculous.) ]
... Only, you know. [ This, a little wryly, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. ] Quieter.
no subject
Admit it. You missed my constant yammering.
no subject
It was constant.
[ His voice is thoughtful, eyes cast up at the rounded ceiling of the hollow log as he feigns a look of consideration. ]
And you did yammer. An awful lot...
no subject
And you missed it.
no subject
May have. At least a little.
[ (a lot.) ]
Why didn’t you ever... [ A pause, and he starts over. ] If that whistle was a straight shot to me, why didn’t you ever just... show up?
no subject
[ There’s a pause, and his gaze slides down to his lap. His shoulders jump a little in what could be considered a shrug, the motion closed in and small. ]
And maybe that was me being a coward and leaving everything in your hands.
no subject
... In retrospect, that was a seriously bad idea.
[ A thread of amusement winds through his voice, soft and almost barely there. ]
Especially considering I— didn’t actually think it’d work.
no subject
Yeah, well. We’ve already established that I left you with quite the misconception when we parted ways.
no subject
Probably could’ve been worse, though.
[ Which is hardly consolation, but there it is.
He glances at the opening of the log and listening for any sounds – nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he can tell. The old team was probably thrown completely off the scent with Charlie’s trick, and the coil of worry winding in his gut loosens a little. He tips his head back against the rough wood. ]
So what happens now?
no subject
Who knows? But he does hope he and Peter left too little to mark their passing to be followed out here for now. ]
I don’t know. I should have asked, but where even are we?
no subject
[ And the amusement leaves him as he heaves out a breath. ]
Setup, obviously.
no subject
Damn. We really are out in the middle of fucking nowhere.
[ So. Good place for a setup. ]
no subject
Should’ve seen this coming. [ Flatly, with an edge of irritation. ] Should’ve known those bastards were bound to catch up with me.
[ he brings up a hand to scrub at his face, but he frowns at the dried blood stuck to his skin and thinks better of it, letting his hand drop back to his lap. He tries to scrape it off with his nails ]
Can’t imagine this was the kinda day you had planned.
no subject
[ Charlie heaves a sigh, plucking up the rag he’d used earlier as he hauls himself forward. He manages to find a clean edge of the cloth, and he takes Peter’s hand in his, running the cloth over the dried smears of blood. ]
I told you already, I didn’t have to answer that whistle. I’m here because I wanted to be, so stop trying to apologize.
no subject
Who’s apologizing?
[ Peter. Peter was apologizing. Again. Or was trying to, until Charlie interrupted him. He licks his lips, fidgeting a little without pulling his hand away. ]
So. [ A little awkwardly, but he needs the topic change before “sorry” slips from his lips again. ] Apothecary, huh?
no subject
[ Softly, as he keeps his eyes on their hands. He could point out that Peter was the one trying to apologize, but it’s clear this is an attempt at a subject change. ]
I kind of stumbled into it. I found this little village and the kids— they were all sick. I stuck around to help out and just sort of didn't leave.
no subject
[ More observation than anything. ]
Must be doin’ a good job of it, if you’ve been there all this time.
no subject
[ Satisfied that Peter's palm is clean, he moves on to the next one. ]
I'm still not as good as someone who's been doing it for years and years, but I haven't managed to kill anyone.
no subject
Most folks will take what they can get.
[ A pause, and with an almost awkward touch of sincerity, ]
Nice to hear you're doing something good.
no subject
It was nice, yeah.
[ His gaze flicks up, and he catches Peter's gaze, and it really hits him just how close they are. How much he's missed Peter. How terrified he'd been of losing him, which ultimately spurred his decision to part ways in the first place.
A year and half might be a long time, but there wasn't a day that he didn't miss this, miss Peter. ]
... Lonely, though.
[ It comes out much quieter than he intends it to. ]
no subject
And despite the hellish conditions of those six months together, staying one step ahead of the far-reaching hands of Charlie's family, Peter can comfortably say those six months were probably the most content he's ever been. ]
... I missed you.
[ The words tumble out before he can stop them. A combination of blood loss, exhaustion, and how terribly jarring it was to have his past catch up with him, tampering with his ability to keep his mouth shut. Or at least, that's the excuse he'll probably give later.
And the thought gains momentum, tumbling like an avalanche. ]
I never wanted you to go in the first place. I wanted to ask you to stay, you know? [ Only a little above a whisper, guilt in his voice like he's admitting to some all but forgotten crime. His gaze drops to their joined hands. ]
I thought— I thought we had a decent thing going. I wanted to see where it led us, but I just— didn't want to be another asshole who forced you into something you didn't want to do. So when you said— when you said you wanted to leave...
[ And he trails off lamely, shoulders hunching up a little. ]
no subject
In truth, Charlie had been scared. Scared of what something happening to Peter would do to him. He couldn’t bear that sorrow after Robert’s death, he couldn’t, and so he decided to run away once more.
His grip on Peter’s hand tightens. ]
Gods, Peter. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know… I— I thought—
No, that’s a lie. I convinced myself that when you didn’t say anything that you wanted to end this. It made the decision hurt less. It made it easier to turn tail and run. I was being selfish and stupid, because I didn’t want to be responsible if something happened.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to sort myself out, and I’m… okay, mostly. Getting there, anyway, but I do know that I never really wanted to leave you behind.
I’m sorry.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)