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 ( Read more... )

It had been a year since the shooting. One whole year. A lot had changed in the year since Gloria had taken a gun to school and shot as many kids as she could find. Namely, Lydia herself. She had done a lot of growing up. Her heroic move to escort all the members of her classroom out the window at the first sign of trouble had doubtless saved ( Read more... )

Peter was sitting in his living room, reading over his notes from his translations and adding more notes to his notes, something he did often though it didn't make anything easier to read. He looked slightly dwarfed by the huge blue chair he was sitting in, but since they were in the living room and not as his desk, it was the best he was going to ( Read more... )

Peter was still feeling mostly normal by Friday, though he was starting his radiation therapy on Sunday and he knew he wouldn't feel normal once that began. In fact, he was most likely going to feel absolutely shit, so he wanted to take advantage of his health while he could. While he had it. Which was why he was headed to the store to buy lots ( Read more... )

Katherine had tried to kill herself the second the angels had left her alone. She didn't belong here. Not in this world where she found only pain. There was nothing for her here. Her daughter had moved on. Peter had moved on. No one loved her. No one cared.

( Bet you're tired of me waitin' for the scraps to fall off your table to the ground... )

Everyone had sat down to a lovely dinner after the wedding. Deirdre had taken her place up at the table with the rest of the wedding party. She'd listened through Thomas's Best Man toast, which was much the same as the speech he'd given Peter in the change room. She'd eaten the food she and Jacinta had so carefully prepared and then she'd snuck ( Read more... )

Everything was done, everything was ready save for the last minute dressing. Oh and Peter. He was busy hyperventilating in the corner as he tried not to think about the next few hours. He'd been the celebrant at weddings before. Countless weddings. He'd never been a groom. He never thought he'd ever be a groom. Marriage he could do. A ( Read more... )

The second Anna had arrived back home, she'd burst into tears. That afternoon, someone had accidently pushed her over on the playground and her leg now sported an ugly wound running from the knee to the ankle. She'd been fine until she caught sight of her Daddy, however. Then she'd suddenly remembered she was hurt and out came the waterworks. ( Read more... )

Peter woke in the morning, Thomas was curled up into a little Thomasball beside him. Peter chuckled and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He slid out of bed and he tucked the blankets around Thomas again. He wanted a shower badly, he was hungry, and his head was throbbing something fierce, but there was something he had to do. He needed to ( Read more... )

Antanasia was standing at the front of the class where she taught Anna and little Lydia. The sister of the young angel was just adorable, as was Anna's protectiveness of her was. Calling Anna towards her, she watched the little eight year old skip towards her with Lydia at her side. "Could you wait just outside for your sister, sweetie?" she asked ( Read more... )