In the Morning



Peter was bent over the sink, his white knuckles clenching onto the edges, fingers stretched tight and back hunched painfully. He could taste the blood on his lips from biting down so hard, but he didn’t wipe it away. He got a strange pleasure out of looking at himself in the mirror and seeing the bright, dripping spot of red pouring out from his lower lip. Like it was what he deserved.

He felt tears coming on, and took a big, deep breath to steady himself. It was over, it was all over, and there was no use thinking about it anymore, no point in living in the past. But the guilt still plagued him, every hour of every day, and when he would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling fan spinning round and round, it ate away at him, and not all of the sleeping pills in the world could make him even close his eyes.

His hair was getting in his eyes again. He held it out between two fingers and mimed snipping it off. He didn’t want it anymore, the floppiness and the silliness of it. It didn’t belong in his new life. His new life, which was an endless abyss of darkness and disappointments and downward spirals that never stopped, no matter how much he tried...

“Peter?”

Noah came staggering into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He had put on a pair of boxers for some inexplicable reason—he always did that. Peter had asked him why one time, and Noah had replied that walking around with no bottoms on was undignified.

“Like anything we’ve been doing these past few weeks has been dignified,” Peter had snorted, and Noah had given him the patented Bennet smirk.

“Hey,” Peter now grunted, and sniffed.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, and turned on the faucet as though he had only gone in there to wash his hands.

“You’re not,” Noah said simply, as though he had reached this conclusion before he had even entered the bathroom. But he didn’t press the subject, and turned on the shower. “Want to get it to a nice steam first.”

“I know.” He finished washing his hands and turned off the faucet.

“Your lip is bleeding.”

“I know that, too.”

“I can fix it.”

“Don’t.”

Noah shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Peter wiped his hands slowly with the washcloth, deliberately keeping his gaze away from Noah. He didn’t want to look into those piercing blue eyes, not now. If he did, he was liable to collapse into a heap on the floor from the sheer heaviness of everything.

“You want to get in there after me?” Noah asked.

“No.”

“With me, then?” There was a tinge of playfulness in his voice.

“No. I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go get some more sleep.” He tossed the washcloth onto the floor and started to head out when Noah gently laid his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault, Peter,” Noah whispered soothingly in his ear. “None of it was. You have to stop living like this.”

“How would you know anything about it?” Peter snapped, and wrenched his arm away.

“Do you think I don’t feel guilty too? Guilty about the lives I’ve ruined, the families I’ve torn apart, the lies I’ve told? It keeps me up at night too, but there’s a point where you have to move on and forget about the past.”

“But you never killed your brother,” Peter spat, and felt the coldness settle into his nerves again.

“You didn’t kill him,” Noah said harshly. “He willingly sacrificed himself so millions of people would stay alive.”

“Because of me! Because I was exploding, because I couldn’t control my powers! Because I’m...because I can’t do anything—” He felt sobs wrenching throughout his entire body.

“You’re not worthless,” said Noah urgently, yet comfortingly at the same time, and brushed back Peter’s bangs. “You are the furthest thing from worthless. And your brother’s death was not your fault. You need to stop feeling guilty about it.”

He kissed Peter softly on the mouth, and, like so many times before, Peter felt all of his worries and his hate and his anger slip away.

“You need to learn to let go,” Noah breathed.

Peter nodded, and kissed Noah back, deeply and desperately. “You’re not ever leaving me.” I need you.

“I won’t,” Noah assured him, and wiped the blood off of Peter’s lips. “That’s one thing you can be sure of.”

Peter smiled and nestled himself into Noah’s neck, the only safe place left in the dark, bitter world.