"Losing my Religion"
Jan. 4th, 2010 08:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticHe stood off to one side with his arms crossed over his chest. He listened to the congregation drone the responses whenever they were prompted. Once or twice his mouth opened wanting to join them but his voice remained silent. He didn’t come here for spiritual reasons, anyway. He came for the other function of the church: a sanctuary.
Earlier that day Peter was submerged in madness and screaming, and death. He followed Adam into the building and fended off guards as they swarmed. That much Peter counted on. But Adam was a warrior of at least three wars Peter knew about, and all that experience built to him leaving no survivors in their wake.
“Peter, take this.” Adam held out a gun for the empath. Peter stared at it, then at Adam.
“You can’t be serious.” It wasn’t like Peter needed it to defend himself.
“Take the gun,” Adam said again. Peter obediently reached forward and took the gun. He knew how to use it since his father made a point in teaching him when they went hunting, but… he didn’t like the weight of it in his hand.
He liked it even less ten minutes later when a guard managed to slip past Adam’s defenses. Peter heard the immortal’s sword clatter to the ground and he twisted in time to see a gun trained on the man he loved.
“Peter,” Adam hissed out. “Shoot him.”
“No.” Peter’s voice trembled, his eyes going wide. He was getting flashbacks of Victoria Pratt. “No, there has to be another way.”
“Peter, do it!” Adam shouted. Peter saw the guard get ready to fire and reacted on instinct. The shot exploded in the air and the guard toppled dead on the floor.
That dead guard was still on Peter’s mind now. He’d just taken a life. In the heat of the moment all he felt was a numb shock but now that they were in a safe place all the heaviness of guilt began to weigh down.
He killed someone. He was a murderer.
“Peter.” He couldn’t help but turn hearing Adam’s voice. Somehow the immortal found him here. Then again, Adam did know him better than anyone ever did. Their eyes met with silence hanging thickly between them.
Peter said nothing. He moved forward, leaning onto Adam’s comforting strength. The immortal wrapped his arms around the trembling empath, holding Peter tightly. Somehow Adam always made it better in the end.
Earlier that day Peter was submerged in madness and screaming, and death. He followed Adam into the building and fended off guards as they swarmed. That much Peter counted on. But Adam was a warrior of at least three wars Peter knew about, and all that experience built to him leaving no survivors in their wake.
“Peter, take this.” Adam held out a gun for the empath. Peter stared at it, then at Adam.
“You can’t be serious.” It wasn’t like Peter needed it to defend himself.
“Take the gun,” Adam said again. Peter obediently reached forward and took the gun. He knew how to use it since his father made a point in teaching him when they went hunting, but… he didn’t like the weight of it in his hand.
He liked it even less ten minutes later when a guard managed to slip past Adam’s defenses. Peter heard the immortal’s sword clatter to the ground and he twisted in time to see a gun trained on the man he loved.
“Peter,” Adam hissed out. “Shoot him.”
“No.” Peter’s voice trembled, his eyes going wide. He was getting flashbacks of Victoria Pratt. “No, there has to be another way.”
“Peter, do it!” Adam shouted. Peter saw the guard get ready to fire and reacted on instinct. The shot exploded in the air and the guard toppled dead on the floor.
That dead guard was still on Peter’s mind now. He’d just taken a life. In the heat of the moment all he felt was a numb shock but now that they were in a safe place all the heaviness of guilt began to weigh down.
He killed someone. He was a murderer.
“Peter.” He couldn’t help but turn hearing Adam’s voice. Somehow the immortal found him here. Then again, Adam did know him better than anyone ever did. Their eyes met with silence hanging thickly between them.
Peter said nothing. He moved forward, leaning onto Adam’s comforting strength. The immortal wrapped his arms around the trembling empath, holding Peter tightly. Somehow Adam always made it better in the end.