A/N: So this is just something short I did to let some steam off from writing all my application essays for vet school. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
In the end, he's sitting on a dock fishing. But he's not alone. And that's really the surprising part isn't it?
The water on the lake is so still, so quiet, and as a younger man he would have done anything to break that silence. He would have done anything to distract himself from the pain. Instead, he helped the young boy by his side cast the rod, and smiled softly as the child giggled at the ripples it made in the water. To Peter, it reminded him of an aftershock, that every action had a consequential reaction, and its damage could go on and on and on. See, that was the story of his life; he was the action.
He was the reason why he and his own son were dressed in black today.
But he couldn't dwell on that for long. He could already feel the tears burning in his eyes, and he couldn't lose it here, not now with his son sitting beside him. Instead he simply reeled in his line, checked to see if his lure, the night of desirable objects, was secure, and cast it back in the water.
"Hey Daddy?" His son whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Why do we have to be quiet?" His eyes beared down on Peter inquisitively. They're green just like his mother's.
"We don't want to scare the fish away. You wanna catch a fish right?"
The boy nodded, and focused hard on his line as if by staring at it he could will the fish towards the hook. Peter leaned down to kiss the top of his head, stroking absently at the hair at the nape of his neck.
It was then that he heard the footsteps on the dock, but he didn't have to turn to know who it was.
She sat down beside him silently, still in her clothes from the funeral. Her blond hair was secured tightly in a bun, but under the surface of her calm façade, he felt the sadness emanating off her in waves. He knew she was trying to remain strong for him. When she turned to him with red-rimmed eyes and saw his blue eyes mirroring back the same emotions that she was trying so hard not to portray, he saw her shift into soldier mode, trying so desperately to carry the weight of his burden.
"Hey Charlie, baby?" Olivia said.
"Yes Mommy?" Charlie asked, tearing his eyes away from the water.
"You know your dad and Grandpa used to fish together." She gazed at Peter then out of the corner of her eye. He was fighting back tears.
"Really?" Charlie asked excitedly. "Did you catch lots of fish Dad?"
Peter took a shaky breath and looked down to his son. "Oh yeah. One time we went out, we came back with seven fish and your grandpa made me dinner every night for a week."
"Grandpa must have loved you a lot then," Charlie said matter-of-factly before turning back to his fishing pole.
And with that, Peter's first tears since his father's death began to fall. Olivia pulled him close, and kissed him softly on the temple, and as he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her touch, he remembered that without Walter, none of them would have been here right now. Without Walter, who knows what kind of life he would have lived?
In the end, he still isn't sure about everything and at times he still feels lost, but he finally knows where he belongs. And as his son catches his first fish, and his wife wraps her arms around him later that night, he can only be thankful for all the chances he was given by the man he could finally call "Dad".
