Chapter Two.
Peter woke with a start, knowing that he was being watched. His eyes snapped open, and for a few moments he thought he was staring into a mirror, eyes identical to his own peering down at him, before he blinked to his senses, "Jesus- Walter, what do you want? Don't do that, you scared the hell out of me."
Walter moved away, "Sorry."
Peter sat up, feeling around himself in the dark, "What the…? I swear, I fell asleep on the couch…"
"I moved you," Walter explained quietly, "You didn't look comfortable."
"What time is it?"
"I don't know."
Peter pulled up his sleeve, squinting at the dim, glow-in-the-dark dials of his watch, "It's two in the morning. Why aren't you sleeping? You know we've got a long day ahead of us."
"I'm quite excited. I haven't been to New Jersey since I was incarcerated. You're very beautiful when you sleep, Peter. Did you know that cockroaches have been known to eat the fingernails and eyelashes of sleeping children?"
Peter rubbed his chin, "That's a little creepy, Walter. You've got to try to sleep, okay?"
Walter's eyes continued to watch him in the dark, the presence of his gaze the only evidence Peter had of his location, "I don't want to sleep," Walter whispered.
"Why?" Peter asked, settling back into his pillow.
"I'll miss you again. I don't like to wake up and not see you, Peter. I don't like being alone, with him."
"With who, now?"
Walter was silent a few seconds, "No one. Goodnight, Peter." there was a soft shifting as Walter settled into the blankets, curling his knees to his chest. Peter shut his eyes, but Walter's continued to burn in the dark. The hum of the thermostat overtook them, accented with Peters' soft breath.
Unconsciously, Walter stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking it quietly. He tried to ignore the form that watched the bed from across the room, expressionless. Walter bit down, drawing blood at the knuckle as the form moved to him, sitting at his bedside, a perfect doppelgänger of himself, "I won't tell him about you," Walter whispered softly to himself, and continued to suckle blood.
xXx
Peter squinted in the flashing glares of the morning sunlight off the windshields of the car lot as they passed on the freeway. To his right, Walter shifted in his seat uncomfortably, frowning at the glove compartment, "I really need to stop, Peter," He mumbled.
"We're almost there. And I told you not to drink coffee, it goes right through you." Peter took the off ramp to the university, slowing in the traffic.
"It went through me fifteen minutes ago," Walter snapped, turning his glare to his son, "Since then, it's only been agony."
A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the university, and Walter scrambled out of the car and hurried away in search of a lavatory. Peter sighed, climbing out of the car and stretching sleepily in the sunshine, watching his breath fog and float away on the still air. This trip was going to take so much time, time that they didn't have… Olivia and Astrid would go on ahead, of course, but it was true that the investigations never truly started until his father arrived…Peter locked the car door and continued inside.
Peter unlocked the lab door and stepped into the cold basement, flipping on the overhead lights, flickering and humming as they warmed up. He went about silently, gathering the papers and files that they would need when they arrived in New Jersey. Walter had made it abundantly clear that he would not be taking flights of any kind ("Do you have any idea how structurally unstable jets are?!" He'd cried from the inside of the Vista Cruisers' trunk. "Do you have any idea how mentally unstable you are?!" Peter had responded), so they'd had to drive… he half envied Olivia and Astrid, whom he had to meet at the helipad of the FBI building in…he checked his watch…fifteen minutes.
Peter looked up to see Walter taking the files back out of the case and shuffling them into drawers, "Walter!" Peter snapped, irked.
Walter looked guilty, and dropped the case back onto the table.
"What the hell?" Peter grumped, gathering the files again, "We have to get out of here, or we'll be late. We're already taking too much time on this trip in the first place…Walter?"
"Goodbye for a while, Gene," Walter was cooing, petting the cow gently as it munched, oblivious of his affections, "Be good, now, while I'm out. I'll make sure someone feeds you and milks you, I promise."
A tiny smile plucked at the sides of Peters' mouth, "Come on, Walter," he murmured.
xXx