Thank you so much for all the reviews (more than I had hoped for), guys come on! I believe Peter still exists, trust me, I love him just as much as you all do! Very short chapter, I'm sorry, I just felt like anymore would ruin it…
Reference: Peter and his mother hug (Over There part2), meeting Peter scene (Pilot)
Chapter 2 – Difference
Peter Bishop groaned, a sound that echoed through his chest. He had been in Iraq way to long. It was hot, and sticky and he really didn't like the fact that there were trained snipers at every intersection. He felt as though his head was really in the firing line. He had been there 3 months already, and he could tell that there was no chance he would be getting out of there anytime soon either. It was just too hard. He had escaped sighting when leaving Australia, was close to being caught going through security when he flew into the country, but he was just so cool and collected, he was able to get away from the problems that could have been occurring for him there. Peter had grown up long ago, that was for sure, working for a boss that would be just as likely to kill you as send a Christmas card, running from other people who wanted him dead, it was getting to hard, some days he just thought it would be easier to give it all up and turn himself back into the people who were hunting him, but his pride and stubbornness would always get the better of him and he would be off, packing a suitcase and in the direction of another city or country and shit-spit of a town to far from no-where to call home. He hated living out of a suitcase. Most of the time he would have been able to lie low after a con, hide himself so he could enjoy the new life and name he had taken, but so far, the last couple of jobs, it was getting harder and harder to get away after the job.
And so sitting in the middle of hotel room, he waited. He was alone, dressed to the nines in a suit and tie to try and impress his new victims, although he had always made a point that he, Peter Bishop, never scammed little old ladies or struggling families, he had set his sights a little higher and little more heartfelt. These were big businesses he would go after, people who could afford to lose a bit of money, or more so afford to give their money to people who really needed it, and right now, he was one of those people. If he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, or "his balls attached to his body", as he was so politely threatened, he would be the one on the receiving end of the $600,000 he stood to gain from this deal. Money that would go half to paying off his debt, yes he had yet another debt, and half into his bank account for 'personal spending's'. He was far from nervous, he had run this con a thousand time over, but instead of planning to stay and enjoy the sunshine for a few days, Peter had every intention of getting the hell out of Iraq before the wrong people found out where he was and how he got there.
The meeting went smoothly, in and our in less than a hour and as he almost skipped down the stairs by two to the lobby, he felt as though he could breath a little easier. He had more money in his pocket now, some to pay off his debt and some to spend. He was getting lustful looks from the woman he passed as he made his way to the lobby of the hotel, his charming smirks in return caused blushes as he walked passed, he knew the effect he had on woman and he loved it. Slipping on his sunglasses, Peter's mind wondered to his life so far, his travels and sadly, back to the friends he left at MIT and back in Boston, he knew there was people who missed him and he also knew there was people he missed dearly, like his mother for example. He missed the hugs she gave him when he came home from being away for days at a time, like it was the first time she was seeing him for half his life, missing the bacon she made for him, like when he woke up with Olivia in his arms on the couch, after their attempt to make pancakes. Thoughts of Olivia stopped him suddenly, it was strange to think of her as a was but sadly he did, and there was nothing he could do about that.
Of course he thought about how she was doing and how her life was, but he wouldn't let himself think about her too much, it hurt too much. And so straightening his jacket collar, Peter made a break for the door, intent on getting a taxi back to his hotel, but a bump on the arm stopped him. Looking down he saw a smaller woman, slim figure and flowing blonde hair.
"Um…Peter Bishop?" He turned to face her, a small smile on his lips, Peter answered, "Yes…" She gave him a small nod, her green eyes sparkling in the afternoon light, "My name is Amy and I was asked to bring this to you…" she handed Peter a piece of note, not very big but he recognised the hand writing straight away. He never saw her leave, never saw the sad smile she gave him before she walked away. Unfolding the piece of paper with his name scribbled across the front, Peter looked down at the note, less than a paragraph but his father's handwriting stared back at him. Taking a deep breath Peter read through it slowly, taking in the deep message that awaited him.
Finding a plane out to the states at such short notice was difficult for Peter, but with some flirting and persuading, he was aboard the first class cabin of the first flight back to Boston. The whole flight he didn't sleep, didn't eat and didn't relax, there was so much he still had to do and say but now would never get the chance there was nothing left for him anymore.
Standing aside the plain wooden casket, Peter sighed, it was raining, pouring in fact, but he never really seemed to care. There were a few other people with umbrella's most, not bothering to come much closer then the trees that were overlooking the plotted grave, but not Peter. He stood directly next to the casket, the rain pelting on his back, soaking through his black suit, sticking his hair to his face, the wind scratching against his unshaven cheek. He didn't know how long it had taken before the rain was mixing with his salty tears, he wasn't ashamed, quite the opposite, he was one of the few people who had turned out for his mother's funeral, and he would be damned if he didn't let out everything he was feeling now that she was gone.
Yes, gone. Peter had an entire 13 hours to come to terms with that word, gone. But it was still foreign to him. He may have been away for years at a time, or not in contact with his mother for longer than that but he had never thought of a world where she would no longer be in it. Running his hand over his face, Peter sighed, he was back, in Boston, for his mother's funeral, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen her, he knew the last thing he told her was that he loved her which he was happy about, she knew that he loved her more than anything in the world, but actually seeing her, talking to her, it was so long ago that he couldn't remember at all. Groaning, Peter rolled his shoulders, trying to get some warmth back into his body but succeeding in only letting more cold air run through him, shivering with the wind and rain. He hadn't realised that many of the few that had turned up to say goodbye to his mother had now left, he was unsure of how long he had actually been standing in the rain but as he knelt down on the soft, wet grass, Peter let his shoulder's hunch and a sob rake his body. There was nothing left for him now.
"Peter?" her voice was soft and sweet, honey to his ears as the winds picked up and howled around him. Her hands slipped around his shoulders, bringing him from his kneeling position and to his feet, her warm hands encircling his freezing ones, bringing him away from the grave sight and towards the waiting car, the heating already running and plan in her mind. "Oh, Peter." She walked him slowly, knowing that that cold would be making it hard for him to move much faster then the slow walk they were doing. Sliding him into the car, he seemed more than willing to follow whatever she told him to do and so she just ran around the drivers side of the car, turned out and made her way towards her apartment.
Peter's head lulled to the side as he watched her from the passenger's side of the car, she was different, older, her hair was longer, darker, the short waves at the front telling him that she once had a fringe that had now grown out. "What are you doing here Tessa?" His voice was low and harsh, the coldness from the wind and rain but he wanted more bitterness to show because this person had taken him away from saying goodbye to his mother. He watched her sigh, her shoulder dropping as she concentrated on getting them through the rain, "Peter I was stopping you from dying of hyperthermia…" there was a long silence between them, both knowing that's not what he was talking about but neither of them really wanting to say more about it "…I didn't know you were back Peter…" Tessa's hand slipped off the steering wheel and onto his still trembling knee. He watched her, it had been about three years since he had seen her last, three years since they had crossed paths once again after high school, she was much different now though, but that having been said, so was he.
"I just got in, flew straight in when I heard the news." He had turned his body away from hers, facing the window and much like he used to do as a teenager, he stared straight into the rain, watching the droplets race down the window. Tessa took in his appearance, it seemed as though he hadn't shaved in days, he looked older, many more years than he should be looking, he looked sad, and not just because he had just found out his mother had died. "Peter…what happened to you? You've changed…" this time Peter did turn to face her, anger in his eyes, fire burning deep inside of him, a plane ride of alcohol and years of grief bubbling over the surface. "Yea I did change, and that was not my fault, you can thank your doublecrossing brother in law for that. I want you to take me back to my mother's house. I know she still lived there, take me there." Tessa only nodded, turning the car around and making for his old home, one that he hadn't stepped foot into for years.
Olivia stepped out her SUV, covering her head as she jogged up the old path of the cemetery, flowers in hand, she heard a car door slam, a woman's figure getting into the drivers side, but at that moment, the only thing that mattered was the grave. The wind had been whipping around her body in a freezing manner that if she wasn't wearing her large winter coat she would freeze to death right there, the rain had eased slightly but still pelted down upon her as she made her way toward the recent grave. Slowing down as she reached it, Olivia knelt down and placed the flowers over Elizabeth's freshly covered grave, she may not have seen the woman for years, but she still felt she owed it to her. Removing two single roses from the bunch, Olivia said a goodbye to Elizabeth before moving to her parents side by side graves, placing down a rose on each before her phone started buzzing. Sighing, she reluctantly reached for it, bringing it to her ear and hearing the important voice of Charlie on the other line.
Short i know I'm sorry, please review and the next chapter should be up on Saturday :)
