Silence (Daniel, Peter)
Daniel was worried. It seemed like a logical thing to be when caring for someone who was being held captive. Peter had seemed to hold on to himself at first, but now he was slipping away. He hardly responded when Daniel when to see him, and that was what worried him the most.
Daniel edged into the room and Peter was right where he had left him, curled up on the bench in the dark. "Father Kemp?" Peter didn't look up, but Daniel could tell he was awake even though he didn't have his eyes opened. "You seem to be healing."
Peter remained silent, and Daniel approched the bench. "Peter?" So far he hadn't addressed the man by his name, but he wanted to see if that could snap Peter out of whatever dump he was mired in.
Peter opened his eyes and he groaned, immediately closing them again. "What time is it?" he asked in a haunted whisper.
"I don't know, Father Kemp. But I do know it's October 27th."
Peter looked up at Daniel then, though all he could see was a Templar in a hood. "The twen...oh my God. De...someone I know. Their birthday is in two days. And my daughter's is on the first. I..." Peter sighed and didn't complete his thought, though Daniel was pretty sure he understood.
"I'm sorry, Peter."
"How long have I been here?" Peter asked, his voice once again hollow.
"Seventeen days," Daniel answered quickly.
Peter lapsed into silence again, curling up into a ball. He raised his arms up over his head and though Daniel waited, Peter said no more. It was as if the knowledge that it had been longer than two weeks was the end of him. As if it was some kind of cut off date and because no one had come for him in seventeen days, they never would.
Daniel had no words of comfort for the man. He understood completely.
Daniel edged into the room and Peter was right where he had left him, curled up on the bench in the dark. "Father Kemp?" Peter didn't look up, but Daniel could tell he was awake even though he didn't have his eyes opened. "You seem to be healing."
Peter remained silent, and Daniel approched the bench. "Peter?" So far he hadn't addressed the man by his name, but he wanted to see if that could snap Peter out of whatever dump he was mired in.
Peter opened his eyes and he groaned, immediately closing them again. "What time is it?" he asked in a haunted whisper.
"I don't know, Father Kemp. But I do know it's October 27th."
Peter looked up at Daniel then, though all he could see was a Templar in a hood. "The twen...oh my God. De...someone I know. Their birthday is in two days. And my daughter's is on the first. I..." Peter sighed and didn't complete his thought, though Daniel was pretty sure he understood.
"I'm sorry, Peter."
"How long have I been here?" Peter asked, his voice once again hollow.
"Seventeen days," Daniel answered quickly.
Peter lapsed into silence again, curling up into a ball. He raised his arms up over his head and though Daniel waited, Peter said no more. It was as if the knowledge that it had been longer than two weeks was the end of him. As if it was some kind of cut off date and because no one had come for him in seventeen days, they never would.
Daniel had no words of comfort for the man. He understood completely.