Variant Strain

Peter did his best to walk calmly back into the house even though the Thunderbolts APCs were already gone from view. He didn't need Cain or Hank's memories to tell him about the paranoia of the military mindset.

It was a reasonable assumption that someone had probably been left behind to keep an eye on him.

So... calm, reasonable steps across the patio.

He was paying attention now and could hear what Cain had heard. MJ's heartbeat and breathing were no longer synced with his. They were faster. No longer quite those of someone sleeping.

Open the front door.

It almost seemed like he could feel her stirring from within the cocoon of blankets and pillows he'd wrapped her up in on top of the inflatable bed in the hidden panic room.

Shut the front door.

At which point, Peter made a hurried dash for the basement door, which he only then realized he'd left open. He leapt down the stairs, not bothering with them and skidded across the basement floor, his unexpectedly extended smaller talons scratching gouges across the bare concrete and giving him the necessary traction to turn and dash through the open door to where MJ was.

He skidded to a stop next to the inflatable bed, wary of accidentally bumping into it with any possibly spiky bits of his body. He could feel his heartbeat spiking and the familiar blur of tendrils flicking across his face rearranging his features back to their original configuration.

MJ was still mostly covered up by the blankets and pillows surrounding her. Her red hair was a fan across the pillow beneath her head. The black eye and split lip that had marred her features practically the entire time he'd known her were entirely gone.

She looked... peaceful. She looked whole.

He was struck once more at how small and vulnerable she seemed in the center of the bed, with a multitude of blankets tucked in all around her. It wasn't the first time the thought had come to him in the past day.

You know you're only an inch or two taller than she is, right? His voice drawled sarcastically, If she looks small and vulnerable, what about you?

He shifted his weight restlessly as he watched her. His body was still jittery from the lack of sleep and the adrenaline crash after his meeting with the Thunderbolts. He probably really did need a nap... or something.

She stirred once more, shoving the blankets off her even as her eyes fluttered open, looking straight at Peter.

She smiled. It was sweet and open and Peter couldn't help but return it.

"Ma'anda ga, Kl'rt." She murmured sleepily and ice stabbed through Peter's heart.

He choked down a panicked exclamation. The murmuring voice in the back of his head seemed to acknowledge what she'd said and the words rearranged themselves into something understandable. "Wha-- what did you say?" He managed to choke out, kneeling down next to her.

Her eyes fluttered sleepily once more and she smiled once more. She didn't seem to have noticed his tone. "I said 'Good morning, Peter'."

Yes. That's exactly what she said. Connors voice whispered to him.

Except those specific words hadn't just been greeting him. There were nuances in how she'd said it, the specific rhythm and cadence. The words... in fact, the entire statement had possessed emotional undertones of possessive affection, delighted surprise and sheer exuberant joy that couldn't be adequately conveyed by her saying simply, 'Good morning, Peter'

How did she know that language?

How did he for that matter?

He smiled back, trying his best to keep the worry from his face. "Good morning," He replied quietly, reaching out to shyly hold her hand.

She squeezed his hand, pulling it possessively up to her chest. She blinked a few more times, as though trying out the whole consciousness thing and deciding it might be worthwhile. "I just had the craziest dream." She murmured, then ducked her head down to kiss his knuckles.

"If you mean the one where you got hurt by on the street while trying to save Gwen," Peter said, smiling teasingly, "That actually happened."

She blinked at him, "No, no. I remember that."

"Oh," Peter chuckled lightly. "So... um... what did you dream?"

She blinked some more sleep out of her eyes, then said, "Well... you and I were dancing."

He smiled, "Really? I can't dance."

"You sure you don't?" She asked teasingly.

"... actually, I'm not sure. Maybe?"

I can boogie down, Cletus offered.

"Anyway," She said making a dismissive gesture with her free hand, "We were dancing. It was a tango. I remember because you had a rose between your teeth."

"That makes it a tango?" He replied back.

"Yes. Shush. You're making me lose my place," She said, furrowing her brow lightly in concentration, "And you were Helena Bonham Carter and I was Johnny Depp."

"How come you get to be Johnny Depp?" Peter sputtered.

She shrugged and grinned up at him, "Blame my subconscious. Your cleavage was incredible. Anyway. Tango. We were talking about something. Or singing, maybe." She looked directly into his eyes, "You were mumbling a lot. Because of the rose in your mouth."

"Right. Of course." Peter said, his lip quirking once more.

"Then there were jail cells all around us. There were people in the cells and they were singing or chanting to whatever we were dancing to."

"That almost sounds like Chicago," Peter murmured.

She shrugged once more, "I've never been. I think they were talking about a little priest. Or something. I woke up after I dipped you."

"I have to admit, that does seem like a crazy dream," He said with a nod.

"I know, right?" MJ said. She took a moment then looked around. Her smile slipping away to a more worried expression. "I fell sleep."

"For a while." He replied back gently.

She frowned slightly as though trying to work something out, "How long?"

"About a day," He replied.

"Where are we?"

"Stacey house."

"So after all that," MJ smiled with amusement, "We ended up coming back here."

"Well... sort of." Peter hedged. "We ended up back here. It looks like Gwen, Aunt May, your Aunt Anna and Detective Stacey ended up with the Oscorp security team that was supposed to be picking us up."

She blinked, then nodded. "They pulled up next to us right before things got crazy," MJ replied. "They're safe?"

For a certain value of 'safe', his voice drawled in his head.

Peter's expression turned mildly concerned, "I think so. I just found out that they're somewhere in Westchester County by now."

"Where's that?" MJ frowned.

"Upstate New York."

Connors whispered, The Oscorp facility Bradley was talking about is in North Salem. A map rose to his mind's eye.

"It's about fifty miles north of here." Peter added helpfully.

"So... why are we still here and they're there?" MJ asked curiously.

Peter flushed slightly, "Well... you said you remembered what happened to you, right?"

She nodded. Then her expression twisted to shock. Then disbelief. She glanced down, then up at Peter. The disbelief warring on her face with something Peter couldn't quite place.

"Yes, you're alive and not hurt." Peter said seriously, wondering how exactly he was going to explain how that specifically came about.

She giggled at the earnest expression on his face then kissed his hand once more, "Actually, I was more shocked that you took my bra off." She said with a serene smile on her face.

He sputtered, "Your-- I-- hey! The thing was falling off when I got you here!"

Her face sobered abruptly and she squeezed his hand tighter, "I figured." She replied softly. "I remember when that... that thing's claws cut me. I felt it shred through my clothes..." Her voice became softer and her expression blanked out to reveal no expression as all. "I remember feeling it cut through my bra straps when it was doing that and all I could think about was, 'this is my last good bra'."

Her face was still completely expressionless, but a small giggle came out, even though tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

Peter watched helplessly, not sure what to do. He gave her hand a squeeze and his other hand hovered awkwardly at her shoulder, uncertain what to do with itself.

Does this qualify as acting crazy? Cletus asked, Do we kill her now?

She's just been through a traumatic experience, you ass, Donna snarled back, Give her some space.

Course it was traumatic, Cletus muttered back. Our boy here just defied God and snatched crazy girl from the jaws of death. I mean we already know she ain't right in the head, I just want to know if its the kind of ain't right that comes from Hydra eatin' your brains or if its the kind she went in with.

MJ squeezed Peter's hand even tighter, holding it close to her like a lifeline. Her eyes stared out at nothing as she whispered, "I knew I was going to die, Peter. I knew it. I hurt so bad. Worse than anything." Even through that blank expression her eyes grew haunted.

Peter dropped to his knees next to the bed, his head now level with hers. He tried to look her in the eyes, but she kept staring past him. "You're okay now, though, right? Nothing hurts?"

She blinked as she realized he was still there, her blank expression melting away to one of tenderness. Whatever reply Peter had been expecting, it wasn't her free hand snaking up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down into a fierce kiss.

This is how we got into trouble in the first place, Cletus remarked sagely as Peter was thoroughly distracted.

Donna made a dismissive noise, Oh, just shut up and enjoy it.

A dazed Peter came up for air and murmured, "Er... I guess you're okay?"

"You fixed me up." She giggled, nuzzling into his neck.

"Er... yes."

She got a little frown, continuing to snuggle against him, "How did you fix me up?" She worked her jaw a couple of times, "Even the bruise on my eye and my cut lip seem to be okay now."

He coughed uncomfortably, "Well... I... uh... kind of had to infect you? I guess." He gave a sickly smile, "Actually you were already infected, I just made the Hydra inside your body repair the damage."

She blinked, "Wait... when did I get infected?"

"It turns out that making out with an infected person? Can infect you." He replied primly. "For the record, since you kissed me, you infected yourself."

She stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly laughed, "Well, I guess we don't have to worry about you infecting me when I finally get you into bed."

"We've been in bed already. Heck, I'm in bed with you now." He blushed hotly and was suddenly acutely aware of how warm she felt against him.

"Yeah," She replied then winked, "But we've both still got all of our clothes on." She thought about that for a moment, then nibbled at the collar of his shirt, the material unexpectedly writhing against her lips causing her to giggle, "Well, I have my clothes on. What's left of them anyway."

Peter laughed weakly at that, as she pressed closer to him.

She continued talking, "Mmm... I feel like someone unscrewed the top of my head and poured sunshine down my spine. The metaphorical kind, not the literal kind." She inhaled deeply, "And you smell good."

"Thank you?" Peter said uncertainly. He couldn't even remember the last shower he'd had-- the night before, you haven't had once since you rescued her-- was she smelling something else?

She could be detecting Hydra the way you do, Cain murmured

Or your body consumes the bacteria that causes body odor before it gets a chance to produce any of the unpleasant byproducts, Connors murmured. No one's really conducted that kind of study on the infected before... usually the smell of blood overwhelms everything else.

I bet it's all feral moans, Cletus opined.

You mean pheromones, Connors supplied.

Whatever.

"I mean really good." MJ continued, unaware of the spontaneous debate that had erupted in Peter's head over the seemingly innocuous statement. She blinked then sniffed again and frowned, struggling to pull the blankets down and giving herself a critical sniff. "Ugh. And I stink."

"Well, it was a full day yesterday," Peter replied with an awkward smile.

She suddenly hit his shoulder, "Why didn't you tell me I was stinky?" She energetically kicked the covers off herself entirely, her eyes glittering with mock offense. "You aren't supposed to know I get stinky until after we move in together and you're too in love with me to run away."

She's right y'know. It ain't too late to run for it, Cletus pointed out.

He blinked at the abrupt topic change, but he still smiled. She did seem okay. No crazier-- than usual. Unthinking, he blurted out, "Too late?"

She got to her feet, gracing him with a beautific smile, "Mmm... to run away or you're already in love with me?"

He blushed silently, uncertain of how to reply, but she didn't give him a chance to. She kissed his cheek and on slightly wobbly legs walked out of the panic room.

"Where are you going?" He asked hurriedly, going after her.

She pointed to the basement's bathroom door. "Shower. I am badly in need of one." She pulled at her the front of her hoodie. One sleeve was completely gone. The other was shredded. The back of it was barely little more than tatters, although admittedly, there were no blood stains on the remains of her top or jeans.

Peter's tendrils had been quite efficient in that area.

The state of what she had on gave Peter a very good view of her pale, smooth back. His eyes wandered down the curve her her spine for a moment before he noticed she was watching him over her shoulder. She shifted her hips from side to side gently, which gave him a lovely view before she asked, "This is a complete loss. Do you think you can dig me up something to wear? Pretty please?"

Donna had to give him the mental equivalent of a smack upside the head before he could reply. "Er... yes. Uh... I guess we could raid Gwen's closet? I knew she had to leave most of her clothes behind."

"That would be great, yes." MJ said with a nod. "Do we still have water and stuff?"

"Water and power for the moment," Peter replied. "No clue how long that's going to last."

She nodded once more, "Okay... let me... let me get a shower and when I'm feeling a little more human we can plan out what we're doing?"

Not feeling too human right now, are we? Cletus asked worriedly.

Pretty sure that's just an expression, Donna clucked irritably.

Peter smiled for her benefit, ignoring the argument in his head. "Take your time. There should still be plenty of hot water.

She did end up taking her time.

Peter had left the clothes he'd scrounged up for her by the door and she'd taken them without teasing him too badly with the sight of her in just a towel.

Gwen had been larger than MJ in most aspects. She almost seemed like she was swimming in the flannel shirt and sweatpants Peter had found. As for the underwear, Peter had mostly pretended not to pay attention and had simply let Donna pick out a-- black-- sports bra and some-- lacy-- underthings that were close to the vicinity of the right size.

MJ stepped out of the shower fully dressed, but in bare feet and with a towel wrapped around her still damp hair. Peter had seen her in her much more revealing sleepwear and in theory knew he shouldn't have been getting so flustered, but there was something about how she looked just fresh out of the shower, glowing with vigor-- and smelling so sweet-- that seemed to be hitting him harder than normal.

Cain rumbled, She used the shampoo you used. So on top of her normal scent, she smells a little like you. Kind of like you marked her.

Cletus was happy to provide a mental image of a dog 'marking' a fence post.

That is just wrong, Peter thought back with annoyance. He swallowed nervously and showed the products of the extra time she'd spent in the shower. "I made us some chicken soup." He held up the tray and the two large bowls.

She blinked in pleasant surprise, "I thought your Aunt May grabbed all the stuff in the pantry before we left?"

"Yes," He replied, "But just the pantry. There's a lot more food in the panic room, though. There's probably enough in there for a couple of weeks. Along with a small camp stove."

"Sweet." She plopped back onto the inflatable bed and began noisily slurping the soup. "This is good for canned stuff." She said glancing at him.

"Well, I may have added a couple of things to it." Peter smiled back modestly.

"I thought Aunt May was the only one who knew how to cook in your family," She chuckled.

Peter shifted uncomfortably as he sipped at his soup,

"Oh. Learned it the Hydra way?" She asked with a wince.

He simply nodded and turned his full attention back to the food, as a somewhat awkward silence descended on the room.

MJ coughed, then took another sip of soup.

"So," She said finally deciding to simply smash through the awkward silence, "Did you enjoy looking through Gwen's underwear?"

He choked on his soup and then stared at her, "I didn't! I just grabbed the first things in there!"

We spent at least ten minutes in that drawer, his own voice murmured slyly. Who knew that girl would have so many lacy underthings?

Only because nothing was going to fit! Peter protested hotly in his own mind to mocking laughter.

She flashed a teasing little grin at him. "See anything in there you wanted me to model for you?"

Peter's face turned red as he stared at her.

"You did!" She giggled.

Well, there were one or two things... his own voice drawled traitorously into his mind as images rose up.

"No!" He sputtered, "You don't need underwear to model for me! I mean I didn--"

By then, she was laughing without any restraints.

"That came out wrong!" He amended hurriedly.

"Nope, sounded perfect to me, Tiger." She purred.

Donna murmured, I don't know about the rest of you, but she seems to be perfectly normal to me.

Or normal for her anyway, Cletus admitted.

He huffed in embarrassment. She set her bowl down and took his hand in hers. "What's our next step?"

He cradled his bowl distractedly in one arm and got up, pacing restlessly, "Queens is still a mess, but the Thunderbolts are all here. Which is kind of a problem since Jessica's still at large in Manhattan."

"So you're planning on going there to deal with her?" MJ asked. She scooted back on the inflatable bed, wrapping one of the blankets around her shoulders to ward off the encroaching cold.

"Yeah... I was going to do it earlier," He continued around a yawn he wasn't able to keep from escaping, "But I couldn't leave alone while you were out."

She frowned at him, "Peter... how long as I asleep?"

"About twenty eight... twenty nine hours, I guess?"

She pinned him with a glare, "You haven't slept in all that time?"

"Er... no? I guess not." He shrugged.

"You were pretty hungry too, I'm guessing." She pointed out.

"How do you--?" He began to ask then noticed that his soup bowl was now empty and tendrils from his chest and upper arm were pretty much licking the bowl clean. "Oh."

He gave her a weak smile as he set the bowl down gingerly, peeling the tendrils away from the glassy surface of it with a wet sucking noise.

"Have you spoken to Aunt Anna and everyone else yet?"

"Uh... no?" He winced. "I really should, though. We need to make sure they're okay."

"I thought you said they were already well out of the city?" She seemed puzzled.

"Well," He looked away, "There's kind of a chance that Oscorp's involved in the Hydra outbreak. And I might've just sent them to the next worst possible place for them to be at.

She blinked. "We should probably talk to them, then."

"In my defense," He said, "I'd only just found out about that when you woke up."

She sighed and rose to her feet, hugging him briefly then leading him to the bed. "You've been making sure I was okay all this time, weren't you?" She asked softly.

He smiled weakly back. "I was worried. You... well... you didn't see how you looked back there. I guess I freaked out."

She hugged him fiercely, wrapping them both up in the blanket. "I've got your back." She said with a smile. "Now, give me your magic phone."

He put his hand into his pocket and felt something in the material within there shift and move, there was a strange sensation of disconnection as he felt writhing tendrils beneath his fingers moving away to reveal the smooth, sensation of the phone's display.

He pulled the phone out and was surprised to realize he was holding MJ's anonymous phone. He took another look at the display and noticed that it was now also sporting the UltronMobile logo. "Uh... here. I think this will work now too." He handed the phone over.

She gave it a brief puzzled look then began dialing. "Hello?"

Peter's enhanced hearing caught Aunt Anna's voice. "MJ! You're okay? Gwen said... she said she saw one of those things kill you!"

"No, no. I'm okay, Aunt Anna." MJ replied, trying to sound reassuring, but there was a confused babble from the phone's speakers as Anna had obviously turned away from the phone and was speaking to someone else with her. The tinny speakers made the overlapping words little more than unintelligible noise. "Where are you? Are you guys okay?"

"Yes, yes. We're mostly fine. George got his shoulder dislocated, but isn't too bad off otherwise." Her voice dropped a little, "He was so brave."

"Ooh," MJ said teasingly, "So it's George now instead of Detective Stacey?"

"When a man saves your life," Anna replied back in the same teasing note, "You're allowed to call them by first name. It's a rule somewhere."

"How about Gwen?" MJ asked.

"She had a small concussion, but they have doctors here. Good ones. She's in good shape."

"Where are you exactly?"

"They've got us in this place... it's like a hospital or hotel. We're not sure where we are though, but they're taking good care of us. They won't let us leave. Something about needing to keep us isolated in case we were exposed to the virus." Anna replied. "Your father's friend, Harry? He seemed to think Brian was the one who called to arrange to have us picked up."

"Oh." MJ's voice was small and Peter gave her hand a comforting squeeze."

"When I told him we hadn't seen your father since he got arrested a couple of days ago, he was very upset. He was under the impression that Brian had been with us the whole time." Anna continued, "We do seem to be okay, though. At least we're not there anymore. Everyone's been really nice."

"I'm glad," MJ said, allowing a measure of relief creep into her voice.

Anna pressed on, "What happened? When those... those... things started attacking, we lost you and Gwen, then the next thing we know, they're hauling Gwen back and everyone's sure you were killed or eaten or something!"

"I'm really not sure," MJ replied, giving Peter's hand a squeeze. "Gwen and I were trying to fight off one of those things. One of them managed to knock Gwen out but I ended up leading it away... but then by the time I lost it, I couldn't find any of you."

"Mr. King, that's the lead security guy, got us all loaded into an armored transport then sent a team out for you two." Anna's voice was tired. "We really thought we'd lost you, MJ... where are you? We tried calling your phone, but it just wouldn't connect."

There was more confused babble from the speaker as it was obvious she was updating everyone.

"I'm still in Queens. I managed to find a working phone in one of the stores." MJ replied, lying breezily. "It's not so bad. The soldiers have got most of the things already. I'm in a safe spot right now."

"MJ, if you tell us where you are exactly, I can ask Mr. King to send a team to pick you up." Anna said.

She exchanged glances with Peter and he shook his head.

"I'm not sure where I am, Aunt Anna. I'm all turned around and I only just woke up a little while ago. But it's a big place." She said spontaneously, "I think it's a warehouse or something. It's barricaded. I'm safe." She glanced at Peter and pointed at him and mouthed, "Do you want to talk to your aunt?"

He nodded.

"Um... and I'm actually not alone." MJ concluded.

"More survivors?" Anna asked.

"Better," MJ replied cheerfully, passing the phone over to Peter.

He cleared his throat and said, "Hello, Ms. Wa-- um... Anna."

"Peter?!" She exclaimed into his ear on the tinny little speaker, "You're okay? May's been so worried!"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." He replied.

Anna's voice took on a sly quality, "So... just you and MJ?"

"Er... wait, what?" Peter sputtered, but before he could provide a more coherent reply, there was a shuffling and more indistinct voices over the speakers but the next voice that came through was his Aunt May's with an exaggerated calm to it.

"Peter," Her voice had a raw quality to it. She was obviously forcing herself to stay calm, but there was also a palpable relief in the two syllables of his name.

"Hey, Aunt May," Peter replied carefully.

"Where have you been?" She thundered.

"Um... well, I hadn't caught up with you guys when the convoy attacked." Peter replied. "Except I found MJ. She was kind of out of it, but we're okay tho. She was sleeping a lot for a bit. Exhaustion, I guess. Like she said, we're safe."

May sighed, "Peter, you're sure you and MJ are alright? We can try to get someone there to pick you up..."

"We're okay, Aunt May. Seriously. Um... There's been a lot of soldiers through the area and I haven't even seen an infected in over a day."

Not counting the one in the mirror, leastways

Something seemed to break in May's demeanor at that, "Thank god. Thank god." She murmured over and over. "You two stay safe. Can you go with the soldiers?"

"Uh... we're... um... we're supposed to stay in place til they tell us its okay." Peter said weakly. "They're still kind of busy."

MJ sighed quietly and rolled her eyes slightly.

"But you're sure you and MJ are okay?" Aunt May persisted.

"Yes. Yes. We're great!" Peter replied hurriedly, getting progressively more flustered.

MJ leaned in and pulled the phone from his hands, "Hello, May?"

"MJ? Is that you? Did Peter pass the phone back?" May asked, her voice somewhat sharp.

"Yes, sorry. He's exhausted. The phone's running low on battery though. We're going to try and get it charged back up, we'll call again soon, okay?" MJ replied.

"I... alright. We can call you back, right?" May asked. "This number's caller ID is showing as blocked."

"Yes, sorry about that. Here's the number," She rattled off the phone number then added, "We're okay. I'm glad you were able to get out."

"Well, you two need to get out too," May sighed. "You're sure you're okay?"

"We're fine," MJ said. "We'll see you as soon as we can, or once we know where we are so you can send a security team for us, okay?"

"I... yes, fine. I'm glad you called," May said. "I'm glad you're both okay."

"Me too. Tell Aunt Anna I love her, okay?" MJ replied.

"I will. Tell Peter I love him, please?"

"Will do."

They hung up.

Peter sagged bonelessly onto the inflatable mattress, setting the empty bowl down on the floor as he did so. MJ reached over and hugged him. "At least we know they're okay."

He nodded quietly, taking comfort in her presence. "That's a relief to know for sure they're okay."

"You didn't think to call?" MJ's voice was just a tiny bit teasing.

"To be honest until you were awake and I was sure you were okay," He admitted, "I didn't know if I could talk to them without completely freaking out and telling them everything."

"Would that really be so bad?" Her eyes were sad as they met his.

"After everything that's happened, I don't think Aunt May could handle a shock that big. I mean..." He hedged, "I guess I can tell her later, but right now it's just been one thing after another."

She sighed and settled in closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You weren't sure I was going to wake up?"

He startled slightly, "No. Yes." He sighed, "I wasn't sure if you were going to be... you when you woke up. I had to more or less wake up the Hydra virus in your body and force it to alter you to save your life."

"So if things hadn't gone as well as they did, I could've ended up like one of those shambling things?" She asked with a shudder.

"Only much prettier," He quipped weakly.

The slight worry on her face melted away and she leaned up to kiss him gently, "Well, it turned out fine. So you can relax."

"Yeah," He sighed, "Relax..."

She looked into his face, searching. "You've been up and worrying about this, this whole time."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And worrying about your Aunt May and everyone else?"

He nodded quietly.

"I'm okay." She said gently, "And they're okay. You can relax now."

He barely stifled a yawn as he felt her press herself against him, "I still have to go to Manhattan, find Jessica and deal with her mob of infected. After that we have meet up with everyone else, I guess. Break them out. I guess?"

She said mildly, "That sounds like a full day of work."

He nodded, eyes blinking rapidly as he settled even more into the bed. "Yeah."

"You sure you want to do all of that while you're tired like this?" She asked gently. "You look ready to keel over." She smiled teasingly, "You have keeled over."

"M'not tired." He mumbled, his brow furrowing slightly as he realized that he couldn't quite open his eyes. "Just need to rest my eyes. For a little."

She slid up on the bed a bit and kissed his forehead, gently brushing her fingers across his brow, causing them to unknot. "You need to get some rest, Peter. Take a nap. Let me take care of you this time."

He half-smiled and sleepily mumbled back, "You already do."

With his eyes closed, he didn't see the smile this brought to her face, but he did hear her murmur softly, as she tucked the blankets in around him and she snuggled into his side. "Sto d'zan che'ir."

- - -