Loved (Deirdre, Peter)
Peter had read Deirdre's honest and public account of the things she had suffered in Paris, laid bare in the hope that people would understand. And he felt like he understood then a little of what Rolf was going through with Jillian. Peter had read Deirdre's words and he had rarely felt more proud. Deirdre was such an incredible person. Her kindness and loyalty were a boon to so many people and Peter knew, deep down, that he had played an important role in that. Deirdre was a demon, and Peter had saved her from herself. Years earlier, Rolf had done the very same thing with Jillian Hammet, and he had loved her just as Peter loved Deirdre. Rolf had watched Jillian become a counsellor who helped young people through their problems. She had even helped Peter with Josie, such a long time ago.
And then Rolf had had to watch Jillian slip away from him. She had turned from a pleasant and kind woman, to a monster, almost overnight. She had terrorised London and brought more pain to the people Peter knew than any other demon except perhaps Lyon. And Rolf had had to watch it all, knowing that he had tried, and failed. When Peter imagined that happening to Deirdre, watching Deirdre turn back to terrible things, his blood froze and he rather thought he would do anything to save her.
Even keep her in his own accomadations instead of locked up in a demon ward somewhere. That way he could help her in a closer way. And dammit, Peter didn't like that he understood where Rolf was coming from, because everything was honestly so much easier when he could just be annoyed at the angel.
Instead of concentrating on that, Peter decided to go see Deirdre. She had a way of making him happy, despite everything, and he did feel the need to tell her how proud he was of her. Peter Kemp was nothing if not someone who gushed on and on about how wonderufl you were until, dammit, you believed it.
The house at 213 Victoria Lane was eerily silent, but Peter let himself in anyway, knowing that if he knocked, he got a very strange look from whoever answered, as if they were wondering who had stolen his body. Deirdre was not in the kitchen, which was always the very first place one looked for Deirdre. For a brief moment, Peter thought that the second place one might look for Deirdre was her bedroom, though if that were the case, Peter was just going to wait in the living room. Instead, however, Peter decided it was more likely she was in her studio and the second he opened the door to her basement, he felt her presence there. Demonic as anything, but still utterly Deirdre.
"Sweetheart?" He called, taking the steps slowly because the basement was dark even though it was the middle of the way and there were high windows. Obviously, Deirdre had blocked them out.
"Peter?!" Deirdre called cheerfully. There was the sound of shuffling and then Deirdre appeared before him at the bottom of the stairs. "Hi!"
"Hello...er, it's a bit dark, isn't it?"
"I was listening to the sound of darkness." Deirdre said seriously and then she giggled. "Okay, that was wanky mental bullshit. I was practicing my lines. It's easier in the dark because when I can see I'm like 'OH DISTRACTIONS!'"
Peter blinked as Deirdre shouted his ears right off his head but he smiled a moment later. "Ah, I get what you mean there. I keep trying to run mine with Aly, but every five seconds, another one of my children needs something. Did you know I have rather a lot of them?" Deirdre knew Peter would never actually complain about spending time with his kids. It was his favourite thing to do.
"Kids, yeah, I noticed." Deirdre winked and then she stretched her hand out to Peter. "Come on, Big Daddy. I'll help you down the stairs, the lightswitch is down here. Don't crack your brains open or anything."
"Yes, that was my intent. My brains have been through rather enough, thanks." Peter commented, taking Deirdre's hand. Once he was at the bottom of the stairs, Deirdre flounced across the room easily, which was quite a feat as Deirdre was one of the world's most accident prone people. But that was why she had cleared the room of tripping implements before turning the lights off.
Once the room was illuminated again, she grinned at Peter. "So what's up? Oh god, is someone else missing?! Do we have to go look for someone else."
"No, no!" Peter held up his hands and then he crossed the room to hug her. "No one's missing, Deirdre." He planted a kiss on her red hair and then he smiled kindly at her. "I wanted to tell you how proud I was of you. I remember last month when you were afraid you wouldn't be a positive role model. I told you you were. What you wrote yesterday was very brave of you, Sweetheart. Your grandmother is a fool for having doubted you."
Deirdre knew Peter had suffered the same kind of violence she had at the hands of Svetlana. Not only that, but he had the memories of a captive girl, left over in his mind from the angelic spirit who had joined with him and been forced to leave just minutes later. Even being an angel for so short a time, Peter was left with her thoughts, feelings, and experiences both good and bad. Peter had personal issues wirth sexual violence and it was little wonder. "Thank you, Peter." Deirdre wrapped her arms around him and she leaned her head on his chest. He had been the one to save her, both times she had suffered that kind of violation, once literally and both times emotionally. "I got a lot of responses. A lot of support. Some people screened their replies because they didn't want them to be public. But they wanted to say they felt the same way, some people told me they thought I was wrong, but they respected that I was honest anyway. No one attacked me. Absolutely no one. Well not yet, there's a new topic on the band's website forum which hasn't quieted down, but generally, people are being so wonderful."
"It is my firm belief that people generally are when they take the time to realise the person on the other side of them is also a human being who feels and thinks just like they do. You did a very good job of explaining the situation and taking the time to explain that you weren't telling people how to think. You just described your experienc and your emotions and even if people don't agree, they can see those emotions came from a real place. You're not just spouting useless crap to get votes." Peter kissed her hair again and he gently pulled her over to the huge leather sofa so they could sit down. "I'm glad you've been getting a favourable response. That's exactly what you should get."
Deirdre curled up at Peter's side and she leaned against his shoulder. "People asked me for advice too. It's so weird, Peter. People I don't know, asking me for advice. I did the best I could with them. I'm helping people and I really like it."
"You're very good at it too, darling Deirdre. Very, very good. I just had to stop by and tell you I respected what you did."
"Because of Jillian and Rolf?" Deirdre asked, showing incredible insight. She looked up at Peter and she gave him a little smile to let him know she understood.
"Honestly, I probably would have done it anyway, but yes...that does have something to do with it."
"I'm not going to go off the rails and skin people alive, Peter. First off, it's messy, and secondly it's quite distasteful. And it would make you do this." Deirdre did a rather startling impression of Peter's heartbroken face. "When you do that, I want to cry. I can't stand it when you're sad. You're such a wonderful man and you should be happy all the time, considering all the happiness you cause for other people. I have so many reasons to keep it together. My girls, my friends. My bands. The theatre. And your face."
Peter chuckled and he leaned his head down on top of Deirdre's, feeling quite comfortable like that with someone who was as much a friend to him as he was to her. "My face is quite grateful." He said fondly.
"So I won't practice the art of filleting humans, and you won't made Saddy McSaderson face, and we'll all live happily ever...well..." Deirdre sighed. "You won't anymore, will you."
Peter frowned. He hadn't talked about this with Deirdre, mostly because he knew it would be hard for her. Hard to accept that she was going to lose him someday. He had been immortal before and she was going to have him with her forever, to keep her steady. Now, that simply wasn't the case. "I'm sorry, Deirdre."
Deirdre took a deep breath and she reached for his hands. "It's okay. I have Spectre and my girls. I always will. They'll keep me sane and you'll visit sometimes because I say. And everything will be just fine."
"That's my girl." Peter smiled and he gave her hands a squeeze, right before his stomach gave a rather plainative whine.
Deirdre pulled her head away from Peter's shoulder, carefully so she wouldn't hurt his neck, and she arched her pale eyebrows. "Peter Gabriel Kemp, you know I get cross when you don't eat."
Peter opened his mouth to protest that he'd been studying and helping Kat and taking care of his family and he had been intending to eat as soon as he returned home, but they would both know that wouldn't have been the case. Something else would have distracted him, and he would have ended up eating a packet of crisps on the run somewhere like he always did. "Yeah, yeah."
"Come on. I'll make you something exotic! LIKE A LUAU PIG!"
Peter's eyes widened. "You're...joking, right?" If anyone could make a luau pig in their kitchens, it would be Deirdre...
"Yes. But I'll think of something." Deirdre winked and then she bounced to her feet before pulling him to his. "Maybe a pig theme. Oooh! 'When Pigs Fly' which will be fried ham with bacon wings!"
"It might also be entitled 'giving Peter high cholesterol'..." He pointed out.
"Oh fine, Mr Vanilla, I'll make you a turkey sandwich." And she bounced towards the stairs to do just that.
And then Rolf had had to watch Jillian slip away from him. She had turned from a pleasant and kind woman, to a monster, almost overnight. She had terrorised London and brought more pain to the people Peter knew than any other demon except perhaps Lyon. And Rolf had had to watch it all, knowing that he had tried, and failed. When Peter imagined that happening to Deirdre, watching Deirdre turn back to terrible things, his blood froze and he rather thought he would do anything to save her.
Even keep her in his own accomadations instead of locked up in a demon ward somewhere. That way he could help her in a closer way. And dammit, Peter didn't like that he understood where Rolf was coming from, because everything was honestly so much easier when he could just be annoyed at the angel.
Instead of concentrating on that, Peter decided to go see Deirdre. She had a way of making him happy, despite everything, and he did feel the need to tell her how proud he was of her. Peter Kemp was nothing if not someone who gushed on and on about how wonderufl you were until, dammit, you believed it.
The house at 213 Victoria Lane was eerily silent, but Peter let himself in anyway, knowing that if he knocked, he got a very strange look from whoever answered, as if they were wondering who had stolen his body. Deirdre was not in the kitchen, which was always the very first place one looked for Deirdre. For a brief moment, Peter thought that the second place one might look for Deirdre was her bedroom, though if that were the case, Peter was just going to wait in the living room. Instead, however, Peter decided it was more likely she was in her studio and the second he opened the door to her basement, he felt her presence there. Demonic as anything, but still utterly Deirdre.
"Sweetheart?" He called, taking the steps slowly because the basement was dark even though it was the middle of the way and there were high windows. Obviously, Deirdre had blocked them out.
"Peter?!" Deirdre called cheerfully. There was the sound of shuffling and then Deirdre appeared before him at the bottom of the stairs. "Hi!"
"Hello...er, it's a bit dark, isn't it?"
"I was listening to the sound of darkness." Deirdre said seriously and then she giggled. "Okay, that was wanky mental bullshit. I was practicing my lines. It's easier in the dark because when I can see I'm like 'OH DISTRACTIONS!'"
Peter blinked as Deirdre shouted his ears right off his head but he smiled a moment later. "Ah, I get what you mean there. I keep trying to run mine with Aly, but every five seconds, another one of my children needs something. Did you know I have rather a lot of them?" Deirdre knew Peter would never actually complain about spending time with his kids. It was his favourite thing to do.
"Kids, yeah, I noticed." Deirdre winked and then she stretched her hand out to Peter. "Come on, Big Daddy. I'll help you down the stairs, the lightswitch is down here. Don't crack your brains open or anything."
"Yes, that was my intent. My brains have been through rather enough, thanks." Peter commented, taking Deirdre's hand. Once he was at the bottom of the stairs, Deirdre flounced across the room easily, which was quite a feat as Deirdre was one of the world's most accident prone people. But that was why she had cleared the room of tripping implements before turning the lights off.
Once the room was illuminated again, she grinned at Peter. "So what's up? Oh god, is someone else missing?! Do we have to go look for someone else."
"No, no!" Peter held up his hands and then he crossed the room to hug her. "No one's missing, Deirdre." He planted a kiss on her red hair and then he smiled kindly at her. "I wanted to tell you how proud I was of you. I remember last month when you were afraid you wouldn't be a positive role model. I told you you were. What you wrote yesterday was very brave of you, Sweetheart. Your grandmother is a fool for having doubted you."
Deirdre knew Peter had suffered the same kind of violence she had at the hands of Svetlana. Not only that, but he had the memories of a captive girl, left over in his mind from the angelic spirit who had joined with him and been forced to leave just minutes later. Even being an angel for so short a time, Peter was left with her thoughts, feelings, and experiences both good and bad. Peter had personal issues wirth sexual violence and it was little wonder. "Thank you, Peter." Deirdre wrapped her arms around him and she leaned her head on his chest. He had been the one to save her, both times she had suffered that kind of violation, once literally and both times emotionally. "I got a lot of responses. A lot of support. Some people screened their replies because they didn't want them to be public. But they wanted to say they felt the same way, some people told me they thought I was wrong, but they respected that I was honest anyway. No one attacked me. Absolutely no one. Well not yet, there's a new topic on the band's website forum which hasn't quieted down, but generally, people are being so wonderful."
"It is my firm belief that people generally are when they take the time to realise the person on the other side of them is also a human being who feels and thinks just like they do. You did a very good job of explaining the situation and taking the time to explain that you weren't telling people how to think. You just described your experienc and your emotions and even if people don't agree, they can see those emotions came from a real place. You're not just spouting useless crap to get votes." Peter kissed her hair again and he gently pulled her over to the huge leather sofa so they could sit down. "I'm glad you've been getting a favourable response. That's exactly what you should get."
Deirdre curled up at Peter's side and she leaned against his shoulder. "People asked me for advice too. It's so weird, Peter. People I don't know, asking me for advice. I did the best I could with them. I'm helping people and I really like it."
"You're very good at it too, darling Deirdre. Very, very good. I just had to stop by and tell you I respected what you did."
"Because of Jillian and Rolf?" Deirdre asked, showing incredible insight. She looked up at Peter and she gave him a little smile to let him know she understood.
"Honestly, I probably would have done it anyway, but yes...that does have something to do with it."
"I'm not going to go off the rails and skin people alive, Peter. First off, it's messy, and secondly it's quite distasteful. And it would make you do this." Deirdre did a rather startling impression of Peter's heartbroken face. "When you do that, I want to cry. I can't stand it when you're sad. You're such a wonderful man and you should be happy all the time, considering all the happiness you cause for other people. I have so many reasons to keep it together. My girls, my friends. My bands. The theatre. And your face."
Peter chuckled and he leaned his head down on top of Deirdre's, feeling quite comfortable like that with someone who was as much a friend to him as he was to her. "My face is quite grateful." He said fondly.
"So I won't practice the art of filleting humans, and you won't made Saddy McSaderson face, and we'll all live happily ever...well..." Deirdre sighed. "You won't anymore, will you."
Peter frowned. He hadn't talked about this with Deirdre, mostly because he knew it would be hard for her. Hard to accept that she was going to lose him someday. He had been immortal before and she was going to have him with her forever, to keep her steady. Now, that simply wasn't the case. "I'm sorry, Deirdre."
Deirdre took a deep breath and she reached for his hands. "It's okay. I have Spectre and my girls. I always will. They'll keep me sane and you'll visit sometimes because I say. And everything will be just fine."
"That's my girl." Peter smiled and he gave her hands a squeeze, right before his stomach gave a rather plainative whine.
Deirdre pulled her head away from Peter's shoulder, carefully so she wouldn't hurt his neck, and she arched her pale eyebrows. "Peter Gabriel Kemp, you know I get cross when you don't eat."
Peter opened his mouth to protest that he'd been studying and helping Kat and taking care of his family and he had been intending to eat as soon as he returned home, but they would both know that wouldn't have been the case. Something else would have distracted him, and he would have ended up eating a packet of crisps on the run somewhere like he always did. "Yeah, yeah."
"Come on. I'll make you something exotic! LIKE A LUAU PIG!"
Peter's eyes widened. "You're...joking, right?" If anyone could make a luau pig in their kitchens, it would be Deirdre...
"Yes. But I'll think of something." Deirdre winked and then she bounced to her feet before pulling him to his. "Maybe a pig theme. Oooh! 'When Pigs Fly' which will be fried ham with bacon wings!"
"It might also be entitled 'giving Peter high cholesterol'..." He pointed out.
"Oh fine, Mr Vanilla, I'll make you a turkey sandwich." And she bounced towards the stairs to do just that.