[ standing there in the middle of this home — he feels that disconnect in between. that affirmation of safe intermixed with the rising feeling of intrusion. like he shouldn't be here, or maybe he shouldn't be seeing this. like he's looking through an old recording to something very, very personal.
this knowledge, these two kids...it feels? it feels sad, but warm. love and loss and he still tries to make sense of it all around him. he doesn't understand exactly, but he's connected enough of the dots to recognize that wanda is involved, now. that she's trying to do something.
tommy's voice is that of a small boy, but it feels like there's years of worry and weight packed into the statement and peter shakes his head, incessant. ] No — no, why would I? [ quiet, confused. is this all her magic, doing this? he doesn't know its extents, hadn't seen them in all their might, but why would she do this now? unless something in this world was influencing her? maybe that was it, but it was becoming abundantly clear there were no answers to be found here.
for a boy used to leaps of faith, the two twins tell him to jump and he looks to the window and back to them. words spill over without a second to consider and he isn't sure who he's saying them to. ] Your mom will be okay. I promise.
[ and against his initial judgement, that surface-level instinct - kids, stay, protect - he turns on the ball of his foot to get a running start, closes his eyes tight and jumps.
is it unfortunate that, in his valiant attempt to follow instructions and not think, his new york apartment flashes in his minds eye. he doesn't know where he's jumping too, just hears a breaking of glass and feels a lurch in his belly, but at least his has that. come what may. ]
no subject
this knowledge, these two kids...it feels? it feels sad, but warm. love and loss and he still tries to make sense of it all around him. he doesn't understand exactly, but he's connected enough of the dots to recognize that wanda is involved, now. that she's trying to do something.
tommy's voice is that of a small boy, but it feels like there's years of worry and weight packed into the statement and peter shakes his head, incessant. ] No — no, why would I? [ quiet, confused. is this all her magic, doing this? he doesn't know its extents, hadn't seen them in all their might, but why would she do this now? unless something in this world was influencing her? maybe that was it, but it was becoming abundantly clear there were no answers to be found here.
for a boy used to leaps of faith, the two twins tell him to jump and he looks to the window and back to them. words spill over without a second to consider and he isn't sure who he's saying them to. ] Your mom will be okay. I promise.
[ and against his initial judgement, that surface-level instinct - kids, stay, protect - he turns on the ball of his foot to get a running start, closes his eyes tight and jumps.
is it unfortunate that, in his valiant attempt to follow instructions and not think, his new york apartment flashes in his minds eye. he doesn't know where he's jumping too, just hears a breaking of glass and feels a lurch in his belly, but at least his has that. come what may. ]