Monday 8th October. Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*Peter stares out of the window at the thoroughly dismal weather, unable to concentrate on the briefing in front of him.  It's a new one, so it probably contains something of value if leaked to the press via one of his erstwhile colleagues, aka Tinkerbell, aka Alastair.  He should at least search for something to give Chuka, but he really can't be bothered.

He shivers.  Despite much prodding from Fiona, he's barely had anything except tea and some toast since Friday.  It probably isn't helping his concentration, but he just doesn't feel like eating.

He catches sight of the phone out of the corner of his eye and considers ringing the stupid wonderful heartless man, just to see if he can make him feel as bad as Peter does, but resists.  It probably wouldn't work.  George already thinks he's a monster, Peter doesn't want him thinking he's pathetic as well.  He shoves the phone under some papers so it's out of sight and tries to get back to work.*

Comments

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

...well as long as that's an impartial opinion.

*His snort of laughter turns into half a sob as it comes back to him that George is gone. He doesn't know how or why it keeps hitting him like this, surely the sensible thing for his brain to have done after first receiving the information would be to absorb it, process it, and have done with, instead of flinging bits of it at him to trip over at inconvenient times.

He rubs his hands over his face to stop it going any further, then curls up on his side, head on the pillow.*

Thank you.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John decides that they've probably had enough wine for the evening and so takes the glasses and places them on the desk.*

*He awkwardly tries to hug Peter, but he can't quite work out how to, so he settles for patting the other man's shoulder.*

It's fine.

Well, no it's not - it's horrible and terrible and you're clearly hurt. But it won't always be like that, I think.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter half-hears the words, but his head is fuzzy from drink and lack of sleep. One of his arms splays across John's legs as he falls further into sleep.*

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John looks down at the arm over his legs.*

Peter? Peter, I should go...

*Peter clearly doesn't hear him and continues to sleep.*

*John remembers that waking up next to Peter again would be a Bad Idea for some reason. But Peter would probably be sad if John left while he was asleep - it would make him feel even lonelier.*

*John glances at the dog basket in the corner and briefly considers sleeping in there for the night. Eventually he dismisses the sleeping arrangements and being too cold. Instead, he settles on a compromise. He takes off his belt (not nice having a belt dig into you while you're sleeping) and then moves so his head is down the other end of the bed.*

*He clambers under the covers, top-and-tailing with Peter.*

*Peter twitches in his sleep and John thinks that maybe rolling over so he doesn't accidentally get kicked in the face during the night would be a good plan. He does so and, before he can think much more, falls asleep.*