The Phone Call

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The Phone Call

Post  Danielle on Wed Jan 19, 2011 2:43 pm

About a month after I got to Europe, I got a call from Saint Claire's... from Walter. He told me that she died in a car crash. It wasn't a car crash. My mother committed suicide.



It’s been a good night.
The girl whose name he can’t remember is lying next to him asleep, but he’ll sleep in the morning. That way he can avoid the otherwise unavoidable awkward morning after conversation, she can just sneak out, and that way he can stay awake tomorrow night, too, wherever he is then.
Empty bottles litter his hotel room and he doesn’t envy whoever’s going to be left to clean those up when he leaves tomorrow. He glances at the girl. Her name’s not coming back to him. It irritates him slightly because he knows he knows it, but he just shrugs and staggers slightly towards the fridge to get another bottle.
His cell phone rings, starting him. It’s loud. He grabs it quickly; it’s a number he doesn’t recognize and he considers ignoring it. No sane person would be calling at this time. His curiosity gets the better of him, however, and he answers the phone. “Who is this?” he slurs.
“Son?” Peter would have hung up right then if he could move. The shock paralyses him. It certainly sobers him up. Walter? He hasn’t spoken to him since he’d first been admitted to Saint Claire’s. What the hell could he want? “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” Peter says cautiously, wondering if Walter has managed to escape from the asylum. He guesses if that’s the case he’d better keep him talking. He knows his father and if he’s escaped, he’ll be dangerous.
“How have you been?” He sounds… he sounds almost sane. Lucid. Upset.
“How have I been?” Peter repeats. “What, you mean since you pissed off and left us to-“
“I’m calling about your mother.”
And right then, he knows. The dread settles in his stomach. He’s never believed in God but he’s praying, praying to anyone who happens to be listening that he has, for once in his life, got it wrong. “What about her?” he asks quietly.
“There… there was a car crash.”
Bullshit. Bullshit. He’s angry now. If she – if she’s – no. She can’t be. Walter has to be telling the truth because if he’s lying about this… “But she’s okay?” he asks desperately.
“Son…”
“What?” It’s not true. It’s not true until Walter says it. Until Walter takes her away from him.
“She died.” Peter doesn’t know how he stays upright as he watches his whole world collapse around him. She can’t have died. She can’t have. She’s the only thing keeping him in this world, the only thing stopping him from going off the rails completely. If she’s gone then it’s his fault. He should never have left her. Not when she was like she was. No one should be alone if they felt like he knew she did. And he’d just gone. “Peter?”
He’s torn between wanting to fly back to America and take Walter from Saint Claire’s and cling onto him, the only other person who had known her like he had, and wanting to hate him, to blame him for everything just so he doesn’t have to blame himself. He’s already made his mind up. “I don’t want you to call me again,” he says coldly. Big man, Peter. Your mother would be proud. He ends the call. He stands, numb for a few seconds, until a voice brings him back to reality.
“Peter?”
The girl’s woken up. “Get the hell out,” he growls at her, without turning around. He can feel the fury building and if she’s still here when he erupts…
“What?!”
“Get. The hell. Out.” He turns around suddenly, and starts storming around the room, throwing the girl’s clothes at her. “Get dressed and get out,” he spits. It’s not her fault. But she’s the only one there and he can’t blame himself because he knows it’s his fault and he’s going to have to blame himself eventually. But not yet. Right now it’s her fault.
“What the fuck’s your problem?” she demands.
“Right now, sweetheart, you’re my fucking problem. Get the hell out of my room.” He’s still pacing although there’s nothing left to throw. Fuck it, there’s always something left to throw. He picks anything up he can find, the closest thing is a chair, and he throws it as hard as he can against the window. The glass shatters. It feels oddly poetic but he doesn’t reflect on that for long because there’s something else in his hands and there’s a TV he hasn’t broken yet and why the hell is that mirror still up because he doesn’t want to see himself and there’s another window there which doesn’t deserve to be whole.
“You’re a fucking psycho,” he hears the girl scream at him as she slams the door. The crappy little TV hits it moments later. The bathroom. The shitty little bathroom he hasn’t touched yet. Why should that get to stay intact and tidy and as he looks for something else to break there’s another fucking mirror and this time he sees it. The blood on his hands, on his wrists, the cuts all over his arms and the look in his eyes and it frightens him. He’s still for a moment before he shuts the bathroom door calmly, gently. He doesn’t want to see in there anymore. Doesn’t want to see the mess he’s made. The cuts are deep but he can’t feel them. He doesn’t want to feel them. He doesn’t want to feel anything.
But she’s gone.
And worst of all, she’s done it to herself. He knows it wasn’t a car crash. He knows very well it was suicide. How dare Walter lie to him? How dare she leave him all alone?
It’s only fair. He left her all alone. He left his mother to commit suicide. What was he doing as she died? Getting drunk? Screwing another nameless girl? Running away from another person he’d pissed off? He knows one thing for sure. When she died, he wasn’t thinking of her. She never even crossed his mind.
He loathes himself.
He sinks to the floor; he can’t stand anymore. He doesn’t want to stand anymore. He doesn’t want to be awake anymore. There are drugs in here somewhere. Sleeping pills. He could just finish the box off, the last person who would notice his absence is gone now. But he can’t bring himself to move.
He just wants his mother. And that’s when it hits him that she’s not coming back. He won’t get to talk to her again. She’ll never hold him again. He’ll never get to see her again. She’s gone. Forever. That’s it. It’s so final. Her life has finished and where she’s gone he can’t bring her back and he would do anything to bring her back.
And he shatters. The pain coursing through him makes him dizzy, makes him sick, and it briefly crosses his mind that that could be the blood loss but he doesn’t care. If he loses too much blood, let them find him here. The guilt in his stomach is rising and rising and he drags himself over to the toilet and he throws up, but it doesn’t make him feel any better and he collapses onto the dirty floor and the tears begin and he tries to stop and it scares him that he can’t, that he can’t control it.
Why her? She was a good person. The best person he’s ever known. The only person he knows he’ll ever love. And he can’t see her anymore. She’s the only one who knows how to fix him when he’s broken. Who’ll fix him this time? He’s going to heal bent out of shape. He knows.
The scars on his arms are going to fade and disappear like he knows she will and he’s suddenly terrified. What happens when he stops thinking about her? It’ll be gradual, but it will happen. Maybe a day will go by. Then two. Then a week. And then she’ll really be dead.
Everything he never said, everything he never asked her about, all the stories she didn’t get to tell him, they’re all gone now, with her, to that impossible place that can’t exist because if it exists he’d find a way get to her and bring her back, but it has to exist because she can’t be gone.
And the damn tears won’t stop. He takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself, tries to regain control but he can’t. The last good person in the world has gone now. There are only monsters like him left. The sobs he can’t keep inside anymore make his whole body shake and he tries to stay quiet but what’s the point? He wants someone to come and just hold him but no one’s going to come. He’s all alone. He’s going to have to do this all by himself. He’s so lonely.
There’s a pounding on his hotel door. Great. The girl must have reported him. This isn’t the type of company he had in mind. He doesn’t move for a minute before deciding he maybe doesn’t want to go to prison right now so he pulls himself up, opens the door, and tries not to see the damage he’s done as he climbs out of the window. The cold night air shocks him at first, but he breathes it in deeply and lets it numb him. He’s okay. He’s okay. It’s almost robotic, how he lowers himself onto the ground and disappears. He knows they won’t find him. He’s good at vanishing.
He stops for a second to collect himself, and the walls inside him slam back up. He won’t hurt. He can’t hurt. Nothing can hurt him, because there’s nothing left to hurt him.
But losing her, the pain which is so strong it’s almost incapacitating has taught him one thing. He’ll never let anyone in again.



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Re: The Phone Call

Post  Larissa on Wed Jan 19, 2011 2:53 pm



OMG.

I WANT TO HOLD HIM.

I WANT TO CURL UP WITH HIM AND CRY.

I BOTH LOVE AND HATE THE WAY YOU BREAK MY HEART, DANI.

BEST WIFE EVER.
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  overthere on Wed Jan 19, 2011 2:57 pm

OMG DANIIIII. D':

"But losing her, the pain which is so strong it's almost incapacitating has taught him one thing. He'll never let anyone in again."

MEHH CRYS. BUT ITS SO GOOD. MEGA PROPS MY FRIEND Very Happy
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  Danielle on Wed Jan 19, 2011 3:08 pm

Larissa wrote:

OMG.

I WANT TO HOLD HIM.

I WANT TO CURL UP WITH HIM AND CRY.

I BOTH LOVE AND HATE THE WAY YOU BREAK MY HEART, DANI.

BEST WIFE EVER.

I REALLY WASN'T SURE ABOUT THIS ONE SO I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT. HE SO LONELY ;_; NO YOU DA BEST WIFE EVAH.
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  Danielle on Wed Jan 19, 2011 3:09 pm

overthere wrote:OMG DANIIIII. D':

"But losing her, the pain which is so strong it's almost incapacitating has taught him one thing. He'll never let anyone in again."

MEHH CRYS. BUT ITS SO GOOD. MEGA PROPS MY FRIEND Very Happy
Thanks youz <33 I WANTED TO STROKE HIM WHEN I WAS WRITING IT ;_;
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  monnie44 on Wed Jan 19, 2011 11:24 pm

weesfjsljgtlsjglrjgljrglj

HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO PETER?

OMG.

Ugh, I loved it and I'm so sad right now and DAMN YOUUUUU. Peterrrr Sad You do sorta deserve some of the blame, but at the same time IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT my poor, sweet thing.

It hadn't really crossed my mind until now how badly Peter must have reacted to the news of her death. I wonder if this was the event that he was subtly referring to in the Pilot, when he said to Olivia "a couple years I ago I went a bit crazy". Sad I will hug you forever Peter!

Brilliant work Dani! Beautiful!
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  rocibel on Tue Mar 22, 2011 6:50 am

OK. Te odio... Sad
That's why I didn't want to read your ff. I knew I was crying too much. It's BRILLIANT. I love him, but never as much as I love you ^^

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Re: The Phone Call

Post  monnie44 on Thu Mar 24, 2011 11:18 pm

rocibel wrote:OK. Te odio... Sad
That's why I didn't want to read your ff. I knew I was crying too much. It's BRILLIANT. I love him, but never as much as I love you ^^

Isn't she wonderful? Wink

Dani's fics hurt me! Poor, abused Peter ... heh.
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  Danielle on Sun Mar 27, 2011 3:56 am

rocibel wrote:OK. Te odio... Sad
That's why I didn't want to read your ff. I knew I was crying too much. It's BRILLIANT. I love him, but never as much as I love you ^^
I'm sorry D: But thank you, I love you too ^_^

[quote="monnie44"]
rocibel wrote:

Isn't she wonderful? Wink

Dani's fics hurt me! Poor, abused Peter ... heh.
I'M SORRY. But I will never stop Very Happy

monnie44 wrote:weesfjsljgtlsjglrjgljrglj

HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO PETER?

OMG.

Ugh, I loved it and I'm so sad right now and DAMN YOUUUUU. Peterrrr Sad You do sorta deserve some of the blame, but at the same time IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT my poor, sweet thing.

It hadn't really crossed my mind until now how badly Peter must have reacted to the news of her death. I wonder if this was the event that he was subtly referring to in the Pilot, when he said to Olivia "a couple years I ago I went a bit crazy". Sad I will hug you forever Peter!

Brilliant work Dani! Beautiful!
I DIDN'T DO IT TO HIM IT HAD ALREADY BEEN DONE I JUST WROTE IT BECAUSE WE'RE NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE IT.
Ooh that reminds me, I wanna ask Joel if we're ever gonna see in PETER'S mind or if they haven't got minds fucked up enough to go there 0_o xD

I'd love to see what he meant by "going a bit crazy". But they've secretly killed of BE so I don't know how they'll bring that back.
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Re: The Phone Call

Post  Larissa on Mon Mar 28, 2011 6:46 am

Danielle wrote:Ooh that reminds me, I wanna ask Joel if we're ever gonna see in PETER'S mind or if they haven't got minds fucked up enough to go there 0_o xD
ASK HIIIIIM! *_*
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