to believe it would be bliss, but doubt pools at the pit of oscar's stomach in the very same way it does in his mother's. he knows he's not safe. how can you be safe from something that lives not just under your bed, but in your walls? and little known to them yet, but in the cavity of your chest? maybe oscar does know, he just hasn't got the words for it yet. he presses the bloodied tissue against his nose still, curled up into his mother's side. and he will lie for her, because he can't let her know she's not in control of this. “i know,” oz murmurs, “don't go yet.”

it's somewhat normal by now. pete partially ignores the statement, pulling on his jacket and adjusting his collar. he runs his hands through his hair, tousling it. is it unfair to say he's a little tired of this? yeah pete, you asshole. that is entirely unfair. but it doesn't change the fact that it's true.

he almost doesn't want to ask what dana thinks she has seen. gozer is gone, peter watched it happen. alas, he finally turns to dana. hungry and ready to leave, he asks, “what?” pete watches her for a moment, before crossing over and putting a hand on her back. to lead her out of the apartment. “i think you're just hungry,” he smiles at her, it's faux, “how about we get somethin to eat, huh? mmm, deli food.”