And I'm back again! It's been so long, and I know that this fandom has changed quite a bit since the last time I wrote here. But I haven't changed (despite my slight, unexpected detour into the realms of Mass Effect and Farscape). If there are any of you still out there like me, I hope you appreciate this. I think a little part of me curled up in a corner and cried for awhile after I finished watching this night's episode (Love Sick), while the rest of me frantically searched for consolation. And so this very short oneshot was born. Product of my everlasting attachment to the Pete/Myka ship and my ability to read into reactions way more than is actually intended, it is short and a bit abstract because it's late and I lack the energy for any more and quite frankly, I like it this way. Mostly Pete-centric, it can be construed as out of character if you do not have the same impression of Pete as I do. But then again, that's why I'm the one writing it.
And as always, I don't own it, so enjoy and please leave me a review telling me what you think afterwards.
Occasionally she visits his dreams at night. But it's never like this. It's off. Her hair is wrong. Her reaction is wrong. She screams and he joins her, caught in the moment of utter confusion. This was wrong. It was Artie's bed. And they were naked. And she was blonde. Welcome to another day in Looneyville.
When he dreams, he dreams of comfort. Of companionship. Of holding her and not letting her go, not letting her leave him again. In his dreams she smiles and it lights up her face, and his heart.
Sometimes he wonders if they'll go in a full circle, go back to where they began. Maybe they were going somewhere. Maybe they had going in a direction before he was abandoned again. And now they might have been steered off of that course to...wherever. It was so hard to keep track of their relationship, with its mighty shifts and swings. He knows where it is now, and that might be enough.
In solitude that night he lets himself think about what they had said. About what would never happen, and about what she thinks of him. And he thinks that the tear in his heart (the one that began that first night under the stars) maybe felt a little deeper, a little sharper.
All of this time he had thought that they were right. And it was so easy to hide that from her with a laugh and a stupid joke. Pure honesty about his feelings would only bring pain.
Pete thinks about what could have been right. He thinks about telling her exactly what she means to him. But it comes out differently than he intended to and he backs out, too afraid to lose what they already have.
The lies pour from his lips smoothly now as he agrees with her; and the part of him that still clings on to hope begins to die, little by little, from this moment on.
He wishes that he could listen to the part of him that wants him to tell the truth. The part that holds strong to its naivety. With silver tipped promises it tries to convince him that when the truth is let out, it will stop the pain. If the truth was told then matters would work themselves out to his favor. He wishes he could still believe that.
But his own pain, his own truth was not important. There was one thing alone that held more importance than this.
She was his partner, his best friend. And he was not going to ruin that.
It didn't matter that she was his love.