5th October, 10 pm

[therealpm]

*Peter is startled out of his usual preparations for sleep by the over enthusiastic ringing of his phone. He rummages around through the papers on his desk, eyes lighting up at the number.*

George! How are you? It's lovely to be able to speak to you again, after so long as a-

Oh really, DEFRA contacted you already? That's very quick for a government department, I must say. Well it's good the paperwork is all finalised I sup-

Yes, George, I know. I did already tell you, several weeks ago.

*Peter blinks in surprise*

Well... the inability to touch silver and a tendency to grow fur during the full moon was a bit of a hint.

Well what else could it possibly have been?

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout.

Look-

Don't be unkind, I'm still me.

I'm taking a potion for that, as you well know.

Well of course it's not risk free, but-

I see.

No, obviously you have to think of your family.

Right.

Fine.

George-

...

*The line goes dead. Peter replaces the phone on the desk and mechanically completes his preparations for bed. He won't give whoever's guarding him the satisfaction of having their suspicions confirmed. He won't.

Dropping onto the bed, he pulls the covers over his head and tries to cry quietly.*

Comments

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter's lying curled up on the bed, staring at the wall with red rimmed eyes. He doesn't respond to John's greeting and there is little external evidence to suggest that he has noticed it at all.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Peter? Peter are you still asleep under there?

*John lets himself into the cell and sets out Peter's breakfast.*

...Peter, come on; the toast will go cold if you don't eat it soon.

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He shuts his eyes tightly. He really doesn't want to have to deal with this right now. Doesn't want to have to speak extra carefully, to control his voice so it doesn't break and alert everyone to how wrong everything is. Doesn't want to have to see the change in people's expression when they notice his red eyes. Doesn't want to have to bat away the polite enquiries; 'What's wrong?' 'Is there anything I can do?'

When the change comes it's instinctive, more of a ripple than the tearing pain when he's switched forms before. He wonders idly whether it's the potion, proximity to the full moon or the clear desire of both forms to switch, perhaps a combination of all three.

The clouded thoughts and inability to speak- so frustrating when forced by the full moon, are now a blessing. When it's over he curls up under the covers once more, pyjamas puddling round his new limbs.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Peter? Oh come on now, Peter...

*John senses the magic in the room swell and die.*

...What did you just do, Peter?

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He pokes his nose above the blankets, confident that the relative immobility of a wolf's features will give nothing away, and glares at John.

'What does it look like?'*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John looks back at the wolf.*

Why in Merlin's name have you done that?! I thought you detested being in that form.

*John shakes his head*

Never mind, you still have to take the potion, even if you now won't want the toast or tea.

*John puts the potion in a more easy to reach place for Peter in his current state. He then waves the newspapers at him*

You're going to have quite a tough time with the crosswords when you're like that, you know.

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*'I really don't care. Just go away, John.'

Peter turns back to staring at the wall.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Peter?

*John rolls his eyes.*

What's got into you today?

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He ignores John and continues to stare at the wall.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Even John can tell something's not right with Peter, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it. Instead of asking - if Peter doesn't want to talk, there's no way that John's going to be able to get him to do so - he sits down in the chair and flicks through to the crossword page.*

9 across, "Refusal for Cambridgeshire saint, her very own self" two-word, first of four letters, second of five.

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*His nose twitches in irritation- John is still here. The man seems terminally inacapable of taking a hint.

After a few more minutes of waiting for John to leave, Peter considers that John might be waiting for him to take his potion. Not that Peter's ever missed a day before, but staying to check without actually saying that he was staying for that purpose is exactly the sort of pseudo-polite, patronising drivel that John would get up to.

Fine.

Peter will drink the damned potion, then John can leave.

He gets up and mooches over to where John has placed the potion. It's in a tall, thermally insulated mug.

'How the bloody hell am I meant to drink this without spilling it everywhere? I'm not going to lick it off the sodding carpet.'*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John sees that Peter's finally out of bed. As Peter makes his way to the potion, John realizes that Peter can't drink from the mug.*

Excuse me for a moment.

*John summons a bowl and pours the potion out into it. He then returns to the crossword.*

2 down, "Home to old nark", eight letters.

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter gulps it down as quickly as possible, then returns to the bed to stare once more at the wall, hoping John will now leave.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John sighs*

Very well, if you don't want to do the crossword, how about going for a walk instead then?

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*'I don't want to do anything except not be infected. Go away.'

He continues to stare at the wall.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Something is clearly wrong with Peter.*

Peter you are clearly not right. I have no idea what it is and, truth me told, I have not the slightest wish to know. All that I request is that you set my mind at ease that it is not something medical or to do with the potion.

Once I have that assurance, if you wish me to leave you to yourself - if that's really what you want - then I will of course, respect your wishes and continue my guard duty outside.

The choice is yours.

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter sighs. He has no appetite, but he is tired- both from shape shifting and from the lack of sleep last night. He drags himself off the bed and plods over to the speak and spell.

I- -a-m- -n-o-t- -i-l-l

Message delivered, he wanders back to the bed and resumes staring at the wall, mind blank.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Desperate to try and find something to cheer Peter up, John summons the last of the steak from the fridge and puts it in the bowl where the potion once was. He then leaves the cell without another word and settles down to do some work at the outside desk.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter ignores it. The smell of the steak merely makes him feel nauseous, not hungry. He continues to stare at the wall, trying to enforce mental blankness, but a replay of the conversation always seeps back in.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John sits outside the cell attempting to do his work. No matter how hard he tries, the fact remains that something is bothering Peter and John cannot stand it when Peter's like this. He sighs and starts scribbling on notepad in front of him as he tries to think of a way to cheer Peter up.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Normally, Peter would find John' scribbling irritating and try to block it out. Now, he focusses on it, allowing it to overwhelm all other thoughts and fill his mind with just the scratching of an ink pen on paper. He does not stir, eyes remaining dry and blank.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John ceases scribbling and throws his pen down. He cannot thing of anything that would help. He's got to snap Peter out of this, but how? A distraction, perhaps? Something continuous. Background noise. A radio? Or a television...*

*A television might work.*

*John rolls up his sleeves and summons a television to hang on one of the walls. He adjusts the height and tilt slightly, so Peter should be able to watch it while in bed. He summons the remote as well, and checks that everything works, flicking through the channels.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*When's John's pen stops scratching at the paper, Peter experiences a brief flash of annoyance at the loss, but as it is soon replaced by the blare of a TV he simply fills his head with that instead. He does not watch it. The news is all about the economy and the upcoming Tory conference. Peter is scared of what he might see.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

A-ha!

*John is rather pleased with himself that he got it working - a combination of electricity and magic has never really been his strong point. He lets himself into Peter's cell.*

I know I said I'd leave you to it and get out of your way, but I thought you might want this.

*He places the remote control on the bed by Peter, then makes his way out of the cell and back to his desk. Hopefully that should cheer Peter up a bit.*

Re: Saturday 6th October 8 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter ignores it, and John, completely. He lets the program, some sort of home renovation thing play, and the adverts, then the next one, and the next, and the one after that...

It is only when the news comes on at lunch time that he twists sharply to view the screen and turns the entire TV off. After so long with it blaring, the silence is eerie.*