Here I am, standing in the cemetery; at the grave of one of the only people in my life I thought I could trust, staring at the headstone as if it will give me some sort of clue while I only dimly hear my phone ringing incessantly. I need answers. I used to come to John when I was hurting and confused and angry….but now….now I have no one. Charlie is around to try to help me smile when he can, but it's just not the same. I don't love Charlie. Right now I'm having one of my rare moments when I regress into childhood and simply want to curl up in a hug from someone who cares about me. But there is no one to turn to for that now. No family, no lover, no anything.
And I refuse to listen to that nagging little voice in the back of my head calling me a liar. One touch does not mean anything. Sure it may have felt as though he'd been able to light my skin on fire with that little brush on my hand, but it meant nothing more than a gesture between friends. Not even that, colleagues. That is all we are, nothing more. I can't seem to help these feelings I get when Peter is around, but it doesn't mean I have to act on them. He doesn't make me feel the way John made me feel. This is different, deeper somehow. Half the time I feel as though he can see right through me, read my every thought. What's scary is that after seeing everything he and his father have managed in the past few weeks, it wouldn't really surprise me if he could. I don't know what to do. Part of me, the rational part, keeps telling me to shut it off, block it out, do the smart thing and not involve myself any more than I have to with the bad boy genius with the insane father. But another part of me is yearning to be held again, keeps telling me to reach out and see what happens. Lay myself bare again and give in to the feelings. In truth, I don't think I can do either. It's too much to walk away from, and it hurts too badly to expose myself. So…I wait. Wait to see if what i'm feeling is only a reaction from the grief and pain or if it's something else, something true. I already know it won't be easy either way.
I can feel the tears falling, I know I'm going to look a mess when I get to whatever scene I know they've been trying to call me to for hours now, but right now I can't seem to care. I stand here, arms around myself for what seems like eons, wrapped up in my thoughts. The hand on my shoulder startles me more than I can remember being in a very long time, if ever. I hurriedly brush at the tears; it wouldn't look good for anyone to see me weak like this. Before I can even turn to look, it hits me who it is. For some reason I don't bother hiding that I've been crying when I turn to face him. I look into his eyes for a long minute before simply collapsing against him. We stand like this for god only knows how long, his arms around me as I cry into his chest. I can't remember the last time I've cried this much let alone allow anyone to see me vulnerable at all. But there's just something so….I don't know….comforting about the circle of his arms. I don't know why I can't seem to help but trust this criminalistic pain in the ass. What on earth would make me want to get involved with someone so….infuriating and annoying and abrasive and arrogant and…..brilliant and sexy and entertaining and thoughtful….I'm not helping my argument….I just don't know what it is about him that has that voice inside me insisting that I can trust this man. This almost perfect stranger. I know almost nothing about him yet here I am baring my weaknesses for him, allowing him close enough to comfort. It simply doesn't make sense….but then again, like the insane experiments and awful tragedies happening around me….maybe I'm not supposed to. Just like when I am faced with this technology beyond my comprehension maybe I'm supposed to look to the bad boy genius for what comes next. Who knows…he may just be the one to make the pain of my betrayal go away.
As Peter leads me away from the grave, I take one last look, vowing that one day it wouldn't hurt anymore and he would no longer have power over me.