[Chris lacks some of the more intimate details of Peter's going ons. Scott, for example, might know that Peter spends an extraordinary amount of time haunting Derek's old place and other such settings. What Chris knows is that sometimes Peter has an uncanny knack for showing up and being a huge, enigmatic pain in the ass. So when they do drive by Derek's long-since abandoned apartment building, Chris isn't surprised, but there's a measure of unexpected irony in it, maybe.
It's always hard to tell if Peter cares. Kate made that observation once, when they were younger. She had seen it as an opportunity: Chris had no idea how much it would come back to bite him in the ass down the line. He thinks, now, that Peter must care more than he gets credit for. Chris, for example, doesn't think he would spend this much time around Kate, even if he didn't want her locked up. Family drama. Maybe one day they'll have a joke about that, and maybe he will see a flying pig.
He parks a little bit away, between some stacked up shipping crates and towering wooden pallets. Peter will know the way, sure, but Chris is -- apprehensive. Cautious as he looks out, eyes drawn to every dark corner; every high vantage point. These new hunters may be over-eager, but they've all got the advantage of Gerard's second-hand training and it hasn't been watered down enough quite yet for abush-mistakes to be made yet. Truth be told, he is truly fucking sick of hunters. The deepest irony yet! ]
I think, [he says, like Peter did not say something similar earlier,] that we might be alone. For now. [He's leaning forward on the steering wheel, eyes moving back and forth; always trying to anticipate his fathers moves. How he thinks. ] But we won't be for long. Eventually someone's going to come looking for their missing buddies.
[He rubs an eye with the corner of a knuckle, and then leans back, head turned to Peter. He's not Scott. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but ...] I need you to keep your ears wide open. Let me know if you hear someone coming. [Maybe Chris can put aside his prejudices for half an hour and they can figure this thing out before Derek shows up to make things 100 x more uncomfortable. ]
no subject
It's always hard to tell if Peter cares. Kate made that observation once, when they were younger. She had seen it as an opportunity: Chris had no idea how much it would come back to bite him in the ass down the line. He thinks, now, that Peter must care more than he gets credit for. Chris, for example, doesn't think he would spend this much time around Kate, even if he didn't want her locked up. Family drama. Maybe one day they'll have a joke about that, and maybe he will see a flying pig.
He parks a little bit away, between some stacked up shipping crates and towering wooden pallets. Peter will know the way, sure, but Chris is -- apprehensive. Cautious as he looks out, eyes drawn to every dark corner; every high vantage point. These new hunters may be over-eager, but they've all got the advantage of Gerard's second-hand training and it hasn't been watered down enough quite yet for abush-mistakes to be made yet. Truth be told, he is truly fucking sick of hunters. The deepest irony yet! ]
I think, [he says, like Peter did not say something similar earlier,] that we might be alone. For now. [He's leaning forward on the steering wheel, eyes moving back and forth; always trying to anticipate his fathers moves. How he thinks. ] But we won't be for long. Eventually someone's going to come looking for their missing buddies.
[He rubs an eye with the corner of a knuckle, and then leans back, head turned to Peter. He's not Scott. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but ...] I need you to keep your ears wide open. Let me know if you hear someone coming. [Maybe Chris can put aside his prejudices for half an hour and they can figure this thing out before Derek shows up to make things 100 x more uncomfortable. ]