peiner: (002.)
chris argent. ([personal profile] peiner) wrote in [community profile] munsters 2020-02-02 04:24 pm (UTC)

the literal train carriage...

[The vault, which Chris knows of and has not really acknowledged out of some strange, vague discomfort. Things that are not necessarily this Peter's fault, but things which are, factually Peter Hale's fault. It's strange, maybe, that in his tiredness Chris feels like he has to protect Peter from the knowledge of himself. At least for one night, anyway. It's hard to say if he'll feel that way in the morning; if the kindness will pass for something more practical with some sleep behind him.

He nods, though, in agreement. He really is tired. His goodnight isn't awkward, but it holds some distant discomfort. It's not personal; it's just something about sharing his space again, after so long relatively on his own. He leaves Peter to the living room, to do whatever it is he wants to do with the freedom to snoop a little more. Chris sleeps with the door closed, and it's closed all night until the next morning. He's an early riser, but maybe this doesn't come as much of a surprise. The Argent's have that kind of air around them: like sleep is a stranger to them more days than not.

Peter feels like a distant, oddly toned dream, but the pizza box is there after he's dressed and making his coffee. On his phone are the terse, utterly exasperated responses from Derek. There, too, is a message from Scott that is just a series of emoji's that he. Does not understand? But sure, okay. He's in the kitchen for a while, catching up on things both supernatural and not, and then cleaning up the small, red mess from Peter's make shift surgery. ]

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