[ For the most part, Peter's skewed memories have returned to normal. There are still times he has to think about someone's face, or ask someone else about them, sift through a fog to place the people he knows. Perhaps it's even harder for him in some ways due to the fact that he's already had such difficulties with his memories beforehand. Returning to himself is... returning to his darknesses, in a different form than they had been while on the Titanic. A more convoluted form, one with more nooks and crannies to lose himself in.
But ever since coming to this place, it's been...easier, in some ways. The anxiety and danger are no less here; there's an entire new set of difficulties to face, but mentally, Peter's been a bit more stabilised. It could be that the restlessness inside of him has calmed for a while, doesn't feel a need to act out, can stay quiet and restful. But another part of it is the fact that Peter... is consciously making an effort to be more present, more focused.
Losing the people he's grown to care so deeply about has... affected him. Their loss was mental for him — losing his memories of them, his experiences — and becoming aware of that sense of loss has been an incredibly odd, upsetting ache he's not quite used to at all. It's made him more emotionally receptive, and that extends to the physical; Peter's been practically... clingy towards those he's close with, and among them, Luna especially. He's still sorry, so sorry, for forgetting her, but it isn't his usual sense of guilt compelling him to act. No, Peter wants to spend time with her, as much time as he can — he's stayed by her side, reaching out for her, keeping close to his friend. It isn't guilt that's made him so protective; it's how aware he is of how precious Luna truly is to him. He wants to keep her safe, to help her as much as he can. It isn't some frenzied, desperate act. He's been... calmer, more at ease. He still has his strange moments — an oddly misplaced shudder, a fluttering of the eyelids, strange movements in the pools of his eyes.
But she hasn't had to coax him down much at all, here. And as they sit on the floor together, sorting out their haul for the day, despite the distressing nature of their circumstances here, Peter is... placid. He sits cross-legged on the floor, watching Luna quietly, always watching her. That much hasn't changed, but... in a way, the shape of it has. He thinks of how small and delicate she is — it's not weakness; Luna is anything but that. But she's now someone who has been taken from him once before, and someone he actively fears losing again. Something has changed.
He sees how tired, how ill, she still is. The dark beneath her eyes, the ache of her body, skin porcelain white. She's exhausted even in her gentle way — and yet she still smiles. Still tugs out a little surprise, a special, thoughtful gift for someone, and makes an offer for his benefit.
It's— so very Luna, so very sweet, that Peter feels a blossom of affection in his chest, a flower opening its petals for her. His fondness leaks through in new ways now, into his dark eyes — forming half moons as they smile for him. Sometimes, he's stricken by his recent awareness of how utterly adorable Luna is. ]
I'll give it to him and tell him it's from you. I think it'll be special to him because of that.
[ As they both fall quiet, he sees that exhaustion in his friend seeping outwards again, some dark thing slowly starting to take hold of her. The affection in his chest bleeds into concern, a form of both that prompts him to set the can he was holding down, reach to her instead. There wasn't much space between them, only a couple of feet, and the distance is easily crossed — Peter extending his hands to touch Luna's wrists, gently. ]
Why don't you rest here? That way you don't have to walk back when you're tired. Ben and Will won't be back for awhile.
[ It's often the three of them here, with Ben and Will sticking together. ]
You can take a nap if you want to. There's already blankets and everything. [ Not much, granted: a small few of them have formed a thin sort of pallet on the floor, which Peter is sitting near now, and he'd tugged the corner of one blanket over his lap, as it's chilly down here. Chilly, but— he can feel the warmth of Luna's wrists beneath his fingers, the tips of them moving upwards to kiss her knuckles softly as they brush across the still-fevered skin. It worries him, a soft frown shifting his mouth into concern. She looks so tired. ]
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But ever since coming to this place, it's been...easier, in some ways. The anxiety and danger are no less here; there's an entire new set of difficulties to face, but mentally, Peter's been a bit more stabilised. It could be that the restlessness inside of him has calmed for a while, doesn't feel a need to act out, can stay quiet and restful. But another part of it is the fact that Peter... is consciously making an effort to be more present, more focused.
Losing the people he's grown to care so deeply about has... affected him. Their loss was mental for him — losing his memories of them, his experiences — and becoming aware of that sense of loss has been an incredibly odd, upsetting ache he's not quite used to at all. It's made him more emotionally receptive, and that extends to the physical; Peter's been practically... clingy towards those he's close with, and among them, Luna especially. He's still sorry, so sorry, for forgetting her, but it isn't his usual sense of guilt compelling him to act. No, Peter wants to spend time with her, as much time as he can — he's stayed by her side, reaching out for her, keeping close to his friend. It isn't guilt that's made him so protective; it's how aware he is of how precious Luna truly is to him. He wants to keep her safe, to help her as much as he can. It isn't some frenzied, desperate act. He's been... calmer, more at ease. He still has his strange moments — an oddly misplaced shudder, a fluttering of the eyelids, strange movements in the pools of his eyes.
But she hasn't had to coax him down much at all, here. And as they sit on the floor together, sorting out their haul for the day, despite the distressing nature of their circumstances here, Peter is... placid. He sits cross-legged on the floor, watching Luna quietly, always watching her. That much hasn't changed, but... in a way, the shape of it has. He thinks of how small and delicate she is — it's not weakness; Luna is anything but that. But she's now someone who has been taken from him once before, and someone he actively fears losing again. Something has changed.
He sees how tired, how ill, she still is. The dark beneath her eyes, the ache of her body, skin porcelain white. She's exhausted even in her gentle way — and yet she still smiles. Still tugs out a little surprise, a special, thoughtful gift for someone, and makes an offer for his benefit.
It's— so very Luna, so very sweet, that Peter feels a blossom of affection in his chest, a flower opening its petals for her. His fondness leaks through in new ways now, into his dark eyes — forming half moons as they smile for him. Sometimes, he's stricken by his recent awareness of how utterly adorable Luna is. ]
I'll give it to him and tell him it's from you. I think it'll be special to him because of that.
[ As they both fall quiet, he sees that exhaustion in his friend seeping outwards again, some dark thing slowly starting to take hold of her. The affection in his chest bleeds into concern, a form of both that prompts him to set the can he was holding down, reach to her instead. There wasn't much space between them, only a couple of feet, and the distance is easily crossed — Peter extending his hands to touch Luna's wrists, gently. ]
Why don't you rest here? That way you don't have to walk back when you're tired. Ben and Will won't be back for awhile.
[ It's often the three of them here, with Ben and Will sticking together. ]
You can take a nap if you want to. There's already blankets and everything. [ Not much, granted: a small few of them have formed a thin sort of pallet on the floor, which Peter is sitting near now, and he'd tugged the corner of one blanket over his lap, as it's chilly down here. Chilly, but— he can feel the warmth of Luna's wrists beneath his fingers, the tips of them moving upwards to kiss her knuckles softly as they brush across the still-fevered skin. It worries him, a soft frown shifting his mouth into concern. She looks so tired. ]