( Peter can feel something desperate to the tightness of the embrace, and his own squeezes a bit harder in response, one arm curling inwards on Luna while the other hand stays up in the back of blonde curls. He waits, the silence a taut, anxious thing — he's afraid to hear what's caused this, and then—
'...I think it was a memory.'
Peter gives a soft sound, a sharp breath drawn inwards. A particular pain needles into his heart, feels like something's burrowed right through him. By now, he's learned that a couple of his own memories have leaked to others; thankfully, they're isolated incidents, and seem to only be to people he knows well, but.... there's a horror spreading through him to think which one Luna might have seen. Was it Mom? Was it— Charlie? He can barely breathe, though his heart is pounding away suddenly.
Then Luna says it was a classroom, back in his home, and.... Peter's eyes are widening over her shoulder, lips parted softly. She saw.... that, that time. That thing that felt like a nightmare.
He'd watched it play out once, too. Back in Deerington, when the dream had taken him back into one of his memories. Fern had been there with him. Watching it had been.... surreal, and horrifying; seeing himself from the outside, the particular way the demon had worked him. Unable to properly be inside him, wrenching its way in for just that brief moment; it had been so... wrong. He'd been so wrong. Face twisted, limbs caught, trapped and straining against his own skin. He hadn't even looked like himself. And the pain was— almost unbearable.
There's another soft sound as he hears the tears in Luna's voice, and Peter's hugging onto her for another moment before he gently eases back a little, just enough so that he can look down at her. She'd seen that, seen that awful thing play out.... seen how he looked and heard the sounds he'd made.
And— ....the demon had been inside of her, too. Hurt her, too. Peter wasn't there to see it himself, but he's gotten.... glimpses of it, through dreams sometimes. Through Paimon. It's still almost too horrible a thought for him to comprehend, that botched possession. His most precious person, knowing the white-hot snap of bone between your eyes, the rush of blood, the searing pain so intense it knocks you out—
Peter gently finds her hands against his own trembling pair and slowly coaxes her to sit down with him on the bottom step, both because he feels a little dizzy, and for some attempt to soothe her. He's wrapping both arms around Luna again, keeping her tucked in close to his body. )
I'm sorry. I'm sorry you saw that. I— I never wanted you to.
( As much as she doesn't want him to see certain parts of her past... he doesn't want her to, either. It only hurts the other to see someone they love in so much pain. Peter's silent for a moment, just holding onto Luna and giving uneven little breaths, before he finally speaks up again. He hasn't voiced it like this before, and it comes slow and quiet. )
...It happened the day before I woke up in Deerington. I didn't know what he was. I—I just thought— something was after me. Or that I was going crazy.
My dad came to get me, and I think he thought... I did it to myself.
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'...I think it was a memory.'
Peter gives a soft sound, a sharp breath drawn inwards. A particular pain needles into his heart, feels like something's burrowed right through him. By now, he's learned that a couple of his own memories have leaked to others; thankfully, they're isolated incidents, and seem to only be to people he knows well, but.... there's a horror spreading through him to think which one Luna might have seen. Was it Mom? Was it— Charlie? He can barely breathe, though his heart is pounding away suddenly.
Then Luna says it was a classroom, back in his home, and.... Peter's eyes are widening over her shoulder, lips parted softly. She saw.... that, that time. That thing that felt like a nightmare.
He'd watched it play out once, too. Back in Deerington, when the dream had taken him back into one of his memories. Fern had been there with him. Watching it had been.... surreal, and horrifying; seeing himself from the outside, the particular way the demon had worked him. Unable to properly be inside him, wrenching its way in for just that brief moment; it had been so... wrong. He'd been so wrong. Face twisted, limbs caught, trapped and straining against his own skin. He hadn't even looked like himself. And the pain was— almost unbearable.
There's another soft sound as he hears the tears in Luna's voice, and Peter's hugging onto her for another moment before he gently eases back a little, just enough so that he can look down at her. She'd seen that, seen that awful thing play out.... seen how he looked and heard the sounds he'd made.
And— ....the demon had been inside of her, too. Hurt her, too. Peter wasn't there to see it himself, but he's gotten.... glimpses of it, through dreams sometimes. Through Paimon. It's still almost too horrible a thought for him to comprehend, that botched possession. His most precious person, knowing the white-hot snap of bone between your eyes, the rush of blood, the searing pain so intense it knocks you out—
Peter gently finds her hands against his own trembling pair and slowly coaxes her to sit down with him on the bottom step, both because he feels a little dizzy, and for some attempt to soothe her. He's wrapping both arms around Luna again, keeping her tucked in close to his body. )
I'm sorry. I'm sorry you saw that. I— I never wanted you to.
( As much as she doesn't want him to see certain parts of her past... he doesn't want her to, either. It only hurts the other to see someone they love in so much pain. Peter's silent for a moment, just holding onto Luna and giving uneven little breaths, before he finally speaks up again. He hasn't voiced it like this before, and it comes slow and quiet. )
...It happened the day before I woke up in Deerington. I didn't know what he was. I—I just thought— something was after me. Or that I was going crazy.
My dad came to get me, and I think he thought... I did it to myself.