lovethyneighb_or: (o salutarius hostia)
Reverend Francis John Patrick Mulcahy ([personal profile] lovethyneighb_or) wrote in [personal profile] not_a_traitor 2024-10-09 01:51 am (UTC)

Peter is delighted and scoops it up immediately, dashing to perch with its treasure in the cat bed that Mulcahy has left on top of a bookshelf.

"Oh, it's been alright." Which is still a little bad, and as good as it ever gets for him. "Same as you, really. It's funny--some days it feels a little like being back in the military. Long stretches of quiet, up until another flood of wounded, or friendly fire shelling, or someone cooks a bad Thanksgiving turkey."

He sets down Gaeta's tableware. "I know I already did in the letter, but I really must thank you again for staying with me for those two months."

Night terrors, screaming, the occasional sleepwalk. Sometimes the only reason Mulcahy doesn't end up in the street is because of Peter or Gaeta. So often Mulcahy would tell him that he's under no obligation to stay, and every time he did. How anyone could tolerate him like this is beyond him, and yet.

(It was not just that. It was also tea at night; it was also waking each other up, being there for one another, it was company in the dark.)

"Before I start explaining myself, I... well, I don't really know where to start. Were there any questions about this that you had in mind? Anything particularly bothering you?"

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