Step by step (Peter, Lydia)
Peter was lying sideways across his bed with his hands over his face, his arms akimbo and lying flat against the mattress. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried, but he was so tired that he kept mis-stepping and nearly falling over when he tried to walk. His sister and Emma had taken the youngest of the kids off his hands for the day, so he was alone to wallow. And wallow he was.
Peter felt the bed move and he pulled his hands off of his face with much effort, as everything seemed to take far more energy than he had at his disposal. It was his daughter Lydia who had crawled up onto his bed and was now sitting beside him. She had a small smile on her face and, strangely, a cupcake shaped like a bunny in her hands. "I brought you a cake, Dad." She said, and then she reached over to set it on his nightstand before she turned back to him. Her face was swimming above his, but he did his best to summon a smile for her. "You're depressed, aren't you?"
Peter's smile faded to a slight frown at that, and he pulled himself up on his elbows so he could turn to face her. "I'm...not wonderful." Which was a rather light way of putting the fact that he felt like he was getting hollower by the moment. His best friend was dead and missing and his wife was leaving him and everything was falling apart at his fingertips... But he still had his kids. And Anna would be home tomorrow, hopefully.
"You know what's not cool?" Lydia said, tucking her feet up under herself as a sign that she was settling in for a chat instead of rushing off to eat more cupcakes.
"Those hats with the earflaps?" Peter asked, sitting up as well, because staying propped up on his elbows was starting to hurt.
"Hah! Yes. But also? Watching you be sad. It's like...when you're sad, your whole face looks so upset and it's...crap." Lydia summed up easily.
Peter gave her a fond look and then he reached out for her hand. "I don't mean to be."
"I know." Lydia acknowledged. "Grandma and Grandpa are downstairs. They brought us shitloads of chocolate. And Caleb even got his diabetic candy and he's running around like a loon. They want to see you. Do you think...do you want to see them?"
Peter nodded. Jacinta and Edward were being wonderful to him, even though it was their daughter who was currently trying to leave him. "Of course I do. Do I look okay? Does my face have bed wrinkles?"
Lydia giggled and she reached out to touch his cheek lightly. "You look fine, Dad. Handsome as ever. Well you hair looks...eh...normal."
Peter actually laughed at that, and he reached out to give her a tight hug before he rose from the bed and helped her off of it as well. "I think 'normal' might be overstating the issue. But I'll go with it. Lead on, Beautiful." And Peter followed his daughter out of his bedroom. He knew if he didn't, he would hole himself up in there, wrapped in misery and it was likely he would lose himself in it. He couldn't let that happen again. For now, it was a matter of taking it each day at a time. His family was doing the best they could under the circumstances. And, really, so was he.
Peter felt the bed move and he pulled his hands off of his face with much effort, as everything seemed to take far more energy than he had at his disposal. It was his daughter Lydia who had crawled up onto his bed and was now sitting beside him. She had a small smile on her face and, strangely, a cupcake shaped like a bunny in her hands. "I brought you a cake, Dad." She said, and then she reached over to set it on his nightstand before she turned back to him. Her face was swimming above his, but he did his best to summon a smile for her. "You're depressed, aren't you?"
Peter's smile faded to a slight frown at that, and he pulled himself up on his elbows so he could turn to face her. "I'm...not wonderful." Which was a rather light way of putting the fact that he felt like he was getting hollower by the moment. His best friend was dead and missing and his wife was leaving him and everything was falling apart at his fingertips... But he still had his kids. And Anna would be home tomorrow, hopefully.
"You know what's not cool?" Lydia said, tucking her feet up under herself as a sign that she was settling in for a chat instead of rushing off to eat more cupcakes.
"Those hats with the earflaps?" Peter asked, sitting up as well, because staying propped up on his elbows was starting to hurt.
"Hah! Yes. But also? Watching you be sad. It's like...when you're sad, your whole face looks so upset and it's...crap." Lydia summed up easily.
Peter gave her a fond look and then he reached out for her hand. "I don't mean to be."
"I know." Lydia acknowledged. "Grandma and Grandpa are downstairs. They brought us shitloads of chocolate. And Caleb even got his diabetic candy and he's running around like a loon. They want to see you. Do you think...do you want to see them?"
Peter nodded. Jacinta and Edward were being wonderful to him, even though it was their daughter who was currently trying to leave him. "Of course I do. Do I look okay? Does my face have bed wrinkles?"
Lydia giggled and she reached out to touch his cheek lightly. "You look fine, Dad. Handsome as ever. Well you hair looks...eh...normal."
Peter actually laughed at that, and he reached out to give her a tight hug before he rose from the bed and helped her off of it as well. "I think 'normal' might be overstating the issue. But I'll go with it. Lead on, Beautiful." And Peter followed his daughter out of his bedroom. He knew if he didn't, he would hole himself up in there, wrapped in misery and it was likely he would lose himself in it. He couldn't let that happen again. For now, it was a matter of taking it each day at a time. His family was doing the best they could under the circumstances. And, really, so was he.