Somewhere in Special Collections, In A Tower Or Something, Sunday Afternoon

[lockestheway]

So Peter had picked himself up well enough that he was starting to think about maybe joining a bunch of the others and going searching for books that might help them in their predicament. After all, it was his universe on the line here, too, so he might as well stand for it

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[endsthegame]

Ender's eyes flicked over to the wall Peter had just burst through. There was a hole now, where the mirror had been - fitting that he'd burst in through the space where his reflection had once brought Ender such distress.

Not anymore; Ender knew well how terrible he was, and he and Peter didn't match up at all.

"They're still not having any luck with that?" he asked, quietly and surreptitiously wrapping the rest of his jacket around the Hive Queen, so Peter wouldn't see.

[lockestheway]

"No," Peter said, raising an eyebrow at the pronoun, "We haven't. But everyone's getting restless, rearing to go. You know how it is."

He did not say, why are you hugging a jacket? And what's with the sorry look on your face?

He badly wanted to.

[endsthegame]

"Time to storm the castle," Ender said, staring up at the ceiling.

It felt a little like that meeting with Valentine on the lake, except that it was Peter, and showing weakness was the worst thing he could do. Then again: Valentine had used his weakness back then, too, so maybe it was that Peter was simply more obvious about it.

He sat up.

"They're welcome to do it."

[lockestheway]

Peter's eyes rolled briefly towards the ceiling. "You know, I'm pretty sure that according to common concensus in our family, I'm the one who's supposed to fuck up," he drawled, "and you're the one who's supposed to be rallying the troops at the moment."