28. Hunger
She was breath in his lungs. He could have burst, from the sheer amount of it. This air, an emptiness, a craving.
Beverly hungered and now so did he. Peter Lake doubted and now so did she.
It was the nature of any good relationship, he told himself. A balance, sought. They were lovers wherever they went, and their hearts, though silenced by death, whispered among themselves.
You're kind to me, I'm kind to you.
She hadn't feared it in life, with its hot breath bubbling at the back of her neck. But she had often feared loss. Loneliness, too.
At the doorframe of a house on fire, she'd grabbed his arm and promised to be unforgiving, in the case he didn't return to her. Even now, Isaac Penn owed her an apology for putting her through such dread.
Her sky was as dark as the one that had made him run away from Pearly's shadow.
She had been chosen as a miracle worker, an angel, and she was still lonely.
Peter Lake was devastated by it.
This is a gift I will not give up.
He hadn't lied to her, in all his comforting replies. His surge of hope had been all but feigned and it shocked as well as pleased him, to feel this way.
Perhaps it was the horror of finding his own pessimism in her eyes, that had caused such sudden optimism to consume him. He had barely acknowledged how destructive, even foolish, his own doubt truly was.
To look toward the end of what was apparently endless. Dreading a separation they'd only briefly tasted. He couldn't bear to look at her like this. Paled by a very particular fright, the worst kind. The fear of the inevitable.
She was powerful, but this was beyond her control.
I'm empty, she'd said once.
A nameless, wordless mound of oxygen to breathe in and then release.
Not her. No…
She would do extraordinary things.
Perhaps it was the wind she'd unknowingly gifted upon him, when they came back to the city that had discarded them. The reminder of what it felt like to fly.
Not a flight, but the memory of it.
A hollowness and the desire to fill it.
Starvation had made him go to Pearly and it, too, had led to his escape. Peace was a feast not found within those shadowy quarters.
The tray of gems was a mound of hard candy, their shattered pieces digging bloodily into the roof of his mouth.
And hunger had dragged him to her breakfast table, her name, her story.
Peter Lake wanted to be hungry. He craved the discomfort. It urged him forward and kept him awake.
He wanted to find Athansor and apologize for abandoning him. For throwing away so many acts of kindness, feeling beneath them, instead of taking them as a chance to be kinder in return.
He wanted to hug Cecil. One of those long, long hugs, that leave people breathless, and arms sore. In death breath could still be spent. He and Beverly had experienced that twice.
Look at me. See me like I see you.
Good people liked being hungry, he wondered. Perhaps they did.
They acknowledged their incompleteness. They were driven by their urge to fill up the gaps in their souls, and mend open wounds. Love was a banquet they died to partake in.
You're water. You're a good man.
Peter Lake wanted to be a good man.
Heaven was flooded. Water still shaped his journey in blue, bloody strokes. Some things would never change, for neither of them. They'd been awarded to one another by the universe itself. Two sail-less voyagers, chained to chance.
"Cecil," he called out.
He waited for the answer. The rumbling thunder in his belly. The wind, for it to carry them wherever it pleased.
His eyes were open.
"Saint Peter?"
Frail, thick voice. As gentle as it was dusty.
Cecil had been roaming the City of Justice a long time.
A shivering chuckle. Beverly's tense shoulders, relaxing.
"It's me, yes. It's me."
Two eyes, glowing, almond-shaped, widening into slivers of white and brown.
"Oh, Peter-"
Cecil was weeping.
Peter Lake walked forward, found him, hugged him.
Author's Note: To anyone who is here today, thank you for reading.
Today's chapter is shorter than usual because I debated whether or not to slip in the plot point I have planned for how Peter will end up returning to the bridge in THIS instant, when he and Beverly find Cecil, but I ended up deciding against it. I just wanted some more of Peter's POV in dealing with his own self-esteem and the way I want him to look forward to fighting his perseverant doubt, I like the concept of hunger being his choice, that he chooses to acknowledge that he's incomplete if he goes to sleep now, and that he doesn't feel fulfilled. Like something's missing - which is precisely the point of the movie I'm writing my re-interpretation about, of course.
So, yes. Cecil is back! He is weepy but he is here. I hope you liked my little callback to ASITL chapter 6, with the whole "Saint Peter" thingie, I thought it'd be a cute inclusion.
Wow... Chapter 6 of ASITL, "Coins"... Yes, it's been a long time, has it? :,)
I look back at all the chapters I've written and my heart just flies. I love these characters and I live the versions I have created of them... I just love writing this, for real, I always have and always will, even when I over-complicate myself with making all this personal worldbuilding and weird theories and whatnotXD
It's 12:49am for me right now and I have college tomorrow so. I'm gonna go to sleep and I'll return to you soon! I know the ending of this chapter is a little wonky so I'll probably edit it at a later time, but not tonight. Tonight, you have a new chapter. Thank you for reading, for being here in general, and I'll see you again soon. Good night!