[ 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.
[ He huffs a small laugh, though there’s not much humor in it. ]
I guess so.
[ His eyes flick to their hands. For the second time in as many minutes, it strikes him just how close they are. Something in his chest flutters, steals his words for the space of a few breaths. After a moment’s hesitation, he drags his gaze back upward. ]
Peter— I owe you so much. I never— I don’t want to leave you again.
[ The bluntness of it startles him, rendering him briefly speechless. But he finds his voice, as he almost always does; it never tends to scatter too far away, even at the worst of times. ]
This is— me trying to be practical, because decisions made in the middle of nowhere while sitting in a giant log probably aren't the soundest.
[ He hesitates, because what he wants to say is yes. abso-fucking-lutely. But for as little time as they've spent apart, it's still enough to make them different people – maybe not on a large scale, but in little ways that matter.
For Peter's part, he's fallen back on old habits. He was never a saint when Charlie was around, that much is certain, but he had tempered some of his selfishness, at least a little, had forced himself to be a little more mindful. Not as much, these days. ]
... Consider it a trial run. [ He tries to make his voice light. ] Make sure the two of us can actually stand each other after all this time.
[ Peter blinks at that, trying to recall where Lastonbell is. His own assessment seems to match up with Charlie's, at least, and he winces again. ]
Shit. That's a ways away.
[ He sighs quietly, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. (His other hand still rests in Charlie's, and either Peter's forgotten, or he's unwilling to let it go.) ]
Not unless you somehow teleport yourself there before me and blow the whistle.
[ He gives a one-shouldered shrug. (His hand is still clasped with Peter's, and in spite of Peter's reluctance to give him any sort of answer, he takes it as a part of one anyway.) ]
But a couple of weeks is a good trial period, don't you think?
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[ 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.
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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?
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[ 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.
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[ More observation than anything. ]
Must be doin’ a good job of it, if you’ve been there all this time.
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[ 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.
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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.
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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.
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It's fine. Seriously. [ He tries for a small smile. ] We probably both needed some perspective on this, huh?
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I guess so.
[ His eyes flick to their hands. For the second time in as many minutes, it strikes him just how close they are. Something in his chest flutters, steals his words for the space of a few breaths. After a moment’s hesitation, he drags his gaze back upward. ]
Peter— I owe you so much. I never— I don’t want to leave you again.
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[ Even if something warm tightens around his lungs – some odd little feeling of hope he hasn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. ]
You're not gonna just ditch that little village of yours, right?
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[ His thumb slowly brushes over the back of Peter’s hand. ]
I’d like to go back and tie some things up, but I don’t want to stay there forever.
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Why don't we just— we'll focus on getting you back there, alright? Then you can make your decisions.
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[ Charlie still goes right for the jugular, it seems, but for all that he sounds serious, he doesn’t sound angry. ]
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This is— me trying to be practical, because decisions made in the middle of nowhere while sitting in a giant log probably aren't the soundest.
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[ It comes out in a sigh, part exasperated, part fond. ]
This is a decision I made ages ago. If you really don't want me around, I'll go, but if you want me to stay, I'll stay in a heartbeat.
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For Peter's part, he's fallen back on old habits. He was never a saint when Charlie was around, that much is certain, but he had tempered some of his selfishness, at least a little, had forced himself to be a little more mindful. Not as much, these days. ]
... Consider it a trial run. [ He tries to make his voice light. ] Make sure the two of us can actually stand each other after all this time.
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All right. It's going to take us a while to get back to the village anyway.
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Where's this quaint little village of yours?
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Um, well. If I figured out where we are correctly, it's north. Way north, a few days walk out of Lastonbell.
It'll probably take us a couple of weeks to get there by foot.
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Shit. That's a ways away.
[ He sighs quietly, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. (His other hand still rests in Charlie's, and either Peter's forgotten, or he's unwilling to let it go.) ]
Don't suppose you've got a shortcut, huh?
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[ He gives a one-shouldered shrug. (His hand is still clasped with Peter's, and in spite of Peter's reluctance to give him any sort of answer, he takes it as a part of one anyway.) ]
But a couple of weeks is a good trial period, don't you think?
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Fair point.
That village of yours. Not gonna collapse without you there, is it?
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[ He had notes prepared well in advance as well, in the event he needed to disappear. ]
Honestly, I spend most of my time alone in the woods. I don't interact with the villagers too much aside from a few things.
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