managed

In any case, with more calm than stress on his shoulders these days, Peter felt like he had things under control. Which was probably why when he saw Charlie amid the other residents, August wind blowing gently through her hair, he felt the confidence and control to utter more than two words to her without feeling the loss of their heartbreak all over again. And perhaps, seeing her smile and being reminded that Charlie had seemingly never lost her control and poise in life after him, he purposely ignored the tiny thrum inside his chest that felt more than just ease. He coughed once, dispelling the thought away. “Charlie,” Peter starts, all composure, soft expression on his face. “Are you having fun?”

Most weeks, Peter finds himself more than tired, but this week Marina has been on the cusp of something big and it’s kept him up at night— either working over hours or laying awake trying to figure it all out. It’s spreading him thin, but he wouldn’t dare think of easing up. He only thinks of how nice it might be to take a rest as he starts to make his way back to the office after dropping off some paperwork to one of the tech offices of the Agency building. Peter runs a hand through messy hair, a long sigh escaping him as he rolls a shoulder and turns the corner, in desperate need of something to revive him. He realizes only when she comes into view that it’s her company he’s been in need of. Like a flower opening to sunlight, he feels a soft smile stretch across his face, feet guiding him toward his friend as he spots her through the big glass window with what he can assume is intense focus on her face. Peter doesn’t want to disturb her, but a quick hello shouldn’t be too much, so he knocks twice on the doorframe of the workspace, craning his head in her direction. “Late night?” he pipes up in the silence, a soft smile on his face, waiting to catch her attention.

“Juniper—” he starts, but he knows there’s no good way to finish his sentence. There’s no good way to tell her they had their reasons, however much they backfired, nor does it seem like she can hear that regardless, if if they hadn’t blocked her powers that night, there would have been nothing she alone could do. Peter hates the feeling stuck in his throat now, the choking sensation that came along with the reminder of how much he had failed her and everyone else. It had been a hard year, hard to get up in the morning and believe in the path he was on after all of this. But none of it was Juniper’s fault or burden, so all he can do is swallow his words and nod. “Right. Thanks for the heads up,” he tells her, and continues on.

Peter takes off his glasses and creases his brow at his brother. “What video?”

He sees the snowball whizz past his face and takes a second to thank the gods it hadn’t actually hit him, hearing Juniper’s curt tone belatedly and only being able to sigh in return for a second as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Juniper, firstly, you know that wasn’t me,” Peter starts sympathetically, but it’s been nearly a year of this with her and he can’t expect the attitude to be gone so close to the anniversary. “Once again, I’m very sorry.”

“No, no, Narumi. Listen, I could never be disappointed with you,” Peter assured adamantly, standing from his seat to move to the other side of the desk next to his brother. “I just... worry for you,” he started, sighing for a beat as he tried to navigate the position he was in now. It had been months, but Peter had barely even interacted with Jae since the night of the ballroom, and thinking about that altercation left a phantom ache in his knuckles. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, and he could only imagine it might make it more complicated for Narumi. “I don’t want to tell you how to do anything, or whether or not you should or shouldn’t, I... I shouldn’t meddle in your life like that,” Peter said, eyes downcast for a moment. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you, Narumi.” Anything being what Jae might do.

It was entirely instinct the way Peter felt a protectiveness settle over him just from seeing his brother look so nervous. Narumi was the fighter among the sons of Athena, but when it came to speaking his mind, Peter always saw how difficult it could be for him, and it was clear now that something was weighing on him. "Of course, Narumi, you can tell me anything,” he nodded, trying to read his expression to discern what could be on his mind now. For all his expertise in observation, his younger brother was still so hard to read. And for all his time in preparing for the worst, he was at a loss once he finally understood. “Narumi...” Peter started, searching for any words he could possibly think to say. Nothing came to mind, nothing could seem to make sense of this or to offer any sort of advice for his brother. But beneath it, he hated that the one thing he could recognize at the center of his chest was the nagging reminder that Jae continued to ruin anything he could get his hands on. “Are you sure about this?”

“You’re not one of those ‘wish for more genies’ guys, are you?” he chuckles, raising a brow over at him, tangentially wondering how chaotic his friend could be with a different set of godly powers. “Again, really would love it for you to just stay alive, but if we have to do this,” Peter sighs, turning to fully face him so Oliver knows he too is serious about his post-life desires and the responsibilities he’d be willing to take on. “I will make sure all your plants are properly looked after,” he says, raising a hand like he’s on the stand. “I’ll need access to your plant wellness contingency guide, of course.” As if these are words usually discussed in wills. “I think most people would argue that childcare is hard,” he contests with a surprised chuckle, then catches his friend’s drift. “Gods, I don’t mean— Not the reproducing part, Ollie, I’m sure you’re just fine in that department— I mean after that,” he rambles, running a hand across his face. “Famous last words.”

His brow furrows slightly as he catches the way his brother seems to fight anxiety just to speak up. “Alright,” Peter starts gently, setting his things back down on his desk as he tries not to let concern color his tone. “Come in, you can close the door if you want. Is everything okay?”

“Narumi,” he started, recognizing his brother’s voice as he turned to grab the rest of his things, about to be on the way out of the office. “Of course, I always have time for you. Is this a... work thing?”

“For now, you’re Oliver who can talk to plants, so I’ll count my blessings,” he chuckles. “Of course not!” Peter contests back easily. “I would reassess my work schedule, learn all about the proper maintenance of the various species in this apartment, and probably invest in some automatic watering cans,” he explains, already mapping out the itemized spreadsheet he would make in his head. “The more important thing is that I would really prefer nothing actually happen to you, Ollie.” He glances back over at his friend, assessing his facial hair and whether or not it makes him any more fatherly. “I think it’s the reproducing part. We’re too young, aren’t we?” Peter asks, though he already feels a million years old. “Too much going on, I mean.”

“Don’t give her any ideas. Sometimes I look at her and wonder if she’s just memorizing all of our faces,” Peter almost shivered, praying to Athena that Lillian had never worn his face before. He took a sip from his drink, surprised brows raising above the rim of the glass. “Clubbing?” he repeated, already nervous. But the words ‘somewhere no one will see us’ did something to alleviate some of the tension in his shoulders. “I mean... Gods, I don’t know what it says about where I am in my life that that idea doesn’t sound half baad,” Peter sighed. “You know I can’t do a one-night stand, Daph.”

“A lot?” he repeats, and he knows it must sound stupid considering what the campus has been through since the winter, but that’s not what comes to his mind immediately. If he’s asking Sila what she’s been up to, it’s because he wants to know the small-scale, not the grand. It’s natural for him to turn to her with a knitted brow and ask, “What do you mean?”, eager for the answer. Perhaps it’s hypocritical considering he’s not really given up any of his own personal life, but the problem is that he can’t. It’s all one giant burnt out anxiety dream anyway, like the oven has been on since February and Peter hasn’t had the time or the even the priority to turn it off, letting the house burn down slowly. His eyes are tired and sleepless when he looks to her at her question, then tired and regretful when he turns away. He should know her better than to assume there are hidden meanings in her words— he’s always been so glad to talk frankly with her, to speak his mind and know that she’s speaking hers and that they were learning about each other through sentiment freely given. But the mess around the campus, and his work, and the way he feels about himself have him so paranoid. He’s never been good at the feeling. When she asks if he’s adjusting to changes he wonders if she means she knows he’s changed. “I’m...” Peter starts, not even knowing where to start. “Tired.” There’s so little room left to think when he’s this exhausted. And less room to think before he speaks like usual. “I’m tired. Exhausted, really, and, uh, guilt...ish. Anxious. Despondent. Probably more, but it’s a little hard to... well, think, lately,” he chuckles, and it’s dry and nervous and none of this is what he wants to be saying right now but if he just comes right out with it he thinks he might throw up. “Are you, I mean, are we— Is everything okay?” Gods. He’s preparing for the worst, but he’s glad at least that Sila has been such a source of comfort until now. It was good to reflect on the pleasant things before they were gone like the passing sunset.

“You want to throw a rager in secret?” he asks, a breathy laugh slipping into his question, easily relieved around his best friends. “What are you gonna do at the rager? Pretend to have a bad time?” Peter doesn’t know how that’s gonna work or how she’d even be able to enjoy it with this current plan. “Can’t we just get wine drunk in your apartment like usual?”

“Well, for starters, it’s a picture, so it’s very easy right now,” Peter tosses back, having the strength of will for now without an actual puppy begging for a new home. He catches only a millisecond of Oliver’s own pleading eyes as he turns back around, but a laugh escapes him anyway, knowing full well the attempt his roommate is making. “Alright, alright, you may have a point there. If it weren’t for you, all these plants would definitely be dead,” Peter chuckles, what with how often he’s out in the office. “I cannot imagine you with a kid, Ollie.”

Peter looks up from the screen of his laptop, knowing from the tone of Oliver’s voice that this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea and more something he has in fact been thinking about a lot, confirmed by the photo his roommate already has saved in his phone. “Oh, jeez, that little guy is really cute,” Peter chuckles, unable to hide it. “Are you sure you’re ready for that? A dog is a big responsibility, you know,” he says, putting on his dad voice for the fun of it.