Playing Nurse [Jersey]

[Jersey]

“Exactly.” She gave a soft grin as she leaned comfortably against him underneath his arm, content with the agreement that she had with him about the subject. “Sometimes the best thing we can do is turn tragedy into a reason to survive.” Jersey slipped her arm back around his hips and glanced up at his features, and then back in front of her as she pondered silently to herself.

“Maybe that’s why I like the character. He didn’t dwell behind in the past.” Listening to his laughter, the blonde woman closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. She still wasn’t used to all of the noise around her, it made her head hurt and sometimes she swore there was a comparable pain to the migraines that she had once been plagued with after her accident. His voice gave her something to focus on.

And, ever so observant, she lifted her eyebrow curiously after opening her eyes once more. “What do you mean, Peter? About seeing the future, that is.” Jersey had noticed the closeness in Peter Parker and Peter Parkman, but she had simply thought it was a coincidence and as usual, wrote things off. Looking up at him, she then debated and wondered if she heard him wrong before her light green eyes went back to the area in front of them.

After a few moments of silence, Jersey wondering if she ever would be able to remain quiet for more than the amount itself, she hummed for a moment before speaking once more, “The way I see it is Spiderman is still Peter Parker, he’s still trying to be himself while he does what he does after he loses people that he loves. Superman’s Clark Kent is a front, that’s not who he is.” She shrugged, hoping she wasn’t confusing.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter chuckled again.

”I don’t mean anything by it,” he said. The fresh air seemed to be helping him; or maybe as each minute passes, those broken fleshy bits of brain were slowly stitching themselves back together, and his thoughts and words became a little more coherent. A little more connected. If he focused on the topic at hand and didn’t allow his thoughts to wander, it was easy to at least try to make some sense to Jersey.

”I don’t mean I actually saw the future but it’s just kind of uncanny, to pick that name after tragedy and then… and then be given something that I never asked for. Unlimited power, you know. To have…” he shook his head. Now his thoughts were delving into unknown waters, and the turbulence there was enough to throw him for a loop.

He was comparing himself to a fictional superhero. And yet, Peter’s own life, as he was living it now, was not fictional. It was reality, unless he’d actually died and this was some kind of odd purgatory. But if it was, in fact, reality, he had been given the equivalent of a superhero’s superpowers. And what was he doing with them? Continuing to hide away in his hut with his girl and with his dogs. Continuing to live his life as if there were nothing else to do but to read and research and write his academic papers; to continue to look into the past, into history, rather than do anything in the present to affect the future.

Hell, there were how many vampires in this city? And did any of them actually use their powers for good? Were any of them running around in masks and capes, playing vigilante?

He supposed not. There was that pervading fear of a force of killers; should any of them give away even a hint of their power to the human populace, they would be slaughtered. It seemed like a such a waste.

Peter hummed, a grumbling purr of discontent, and fell into silence.

[Jersey]

She slid her fingertips under the hem of his shirt, lightly tracing over his skin as she set her head against his shoulder while she listened. “To pick that name...” The thought went through her mind once more, confusion slightly registering on her features before she decided to just push it aside before she turned her head to press a kiss to his arm before returning her head to look back in front of her. "Everything change in just a moment from ordinary to extraordinary?" She offered when she heard him trail off.

Massaging the spot where her fingertips resting, Jersey watched the few individuals in the park quietly and listened to those that had heartbeats, her light green eyes moving around to find them before she softly drew the fingernail of her pointer finger against his flesh with an idle thought. She had never believed that even after losing the memory of who that she was that she would have fallen in love, gained a family and found a place to belong as Jersey Thompson, now Sinclair to mark her relationship to Kallista.

There were small pieces of her memory returning, glimpses of faces and voices, but nothing registered in her mind of who they belonged to. She had her other half and family she loved, that was all she needed.

"The idea of grown men running around in spandex, however, is still amusing regardless of the situation and the superhero. It shows things off that should be kept more personal." At that, her green eyes flickered over his body with a playful smile crossing her lips. She had clearly recovered from the shock of his pants dropping suddenly before they left the asylum. "Then again, skin tight spandex is not flattering to anyone. Ever."

The mention of spandex actually reminded her that she needed to make a stop after work the next day to pick up her favorite pair of white jeans. She had managed to stain it once again by leaving a pen in her pocket and then hitting the clicker. At least it hadn’t been a red pen. She had a few other things she wanted to look for at the mall, too. As Peter hummed, Jersey kissed his shoulder once more and squeezed her arm around his waist, drawing him closer.

[Peter Parkman]

It hadn’t occurred to Peter that he hadn’t told Jersey anything about his past. It still didn’t occur to him that he’d let anything slip. This state of mind was dangerous – there were reasons why he’d been asked to change his name, to move cities, and to keep himself secret. To give away to no one who he really was. There were men, dangerous men, who would find him and kill him simply for what he had seen. And Peter could not go back to being Arthur Pembroke until those men were apprehended; until that particular mob had been dismantled.

Not that he would go back to being Arthur Pembroke. In his long months of isolation out there in his cabin with his dogs, Peter knew that everything Arthur had had, everything that Arthur had loved, was lost. There was no point in going back. He was given a chance that most people were deprived of. He was given a second life.

Or maybe, now, thinking about it – a third.

”Exactly,” he responded. Everything had changed from ordinary (kind of) to extraordinary. In a single moment – or, well, in a few moments. However long it took for Keara to decide she would claim Peter, to decide she would turn him rather than kill him. Ordinary life was a rug ripped out from under his feet, and he was still falling through the blizzard of change.

Peter canted his head to the side. He was imagining grown adults in spandex, now, but the one image that kept flashing in his mind’s eye was not of Spiderman, or Superman, or Batman. Not of a man at all. He grinned lopsidedly, mischievously.

”Oh I don’t know. Catwoman is rather attractive, in my estimation,” he said, glancing sideways at Jersey to gauge her reaction. These were the things he had yet to test with this woman. Was she jealous enough to take it personally? Or could she see it for the teasing that it was?

[Jersey]

She would ask him at a later date, Jersey decided as they walked and seemed lost in the moment. Maybe it was because of his injury and the fact he had yet to tell her what happened in the woods, or maybe she simply preferred to postpone the chance of having him redirect a conversation, but rather than press on the issue, she pulled her other half closer if possible and let out a quiet, thoughtful sigh. The man had secrets; that had been something that she learned early on about him.

That is to say, though, it didn’t bother her. Peter had assured her that everything he felt for her was true and she felt no need to push him. Of course, she had pressed the matter of vampirism and the fact he had no shadow, but it had ended up with them dating – it was the exception to the “no forcing things out of him” thought that Jersey pondered over in the weeks of getting to know him. She could still remember when she had gone to set the picture to bring up the picture when he was calling and had convinced herself she wasn’t seeing things.

"Understandable." She chimed, studying the man from the corner of her eyes as she considered what she knew about him. Jersey considered her own turning; Kallista hadn’t wanted her to die, to become one of the nameless faces in a morgue and because of the shotgun that had sped up the clock to kill her, she’d been fed her sire’s blood. She didn’t feel as if her life had changed other than gaining family, but then again, maybe it was because she didn’t know what she lost before her accident.

At his admission to thinking Catwoman was attractive, her eyebrow lifted and her lips curled into a soft amused smirk. "Touché." She moved her hand from his waist and into the back pocket furthest from her. Jersey would admit, she was a little jealous about the thought, but rather than vocalize it, she reasoned that Catwoman was fictional and that she was the one in his bed every night so there was no need to be jealous. Right?

Right. She squeezed his backside playfully through his jeans. "She is rather attractive. Batman’s quite attractive, too. The costume does show off everything on him." Two could play it that way as she inclined her head, pretending to think with a distracted look on her face. The distraction was, however, that she was thinking over what she’d seen of Peter and had no interest in Batman’s anatomy with the man she loved standing not even a foot away.

It didn't help that Jersey thought he was cute when he got jealous, either.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter could not be jealous of a fictional character. Rather than inspire jealousy, Jersey’s attraction to Batman only caused a whirlwind of imagined imagery to curl and whisk around Peter’s detached mind. He couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long. If he were in control of his full faculties, he might have questioned Jersey. Might have asked exactly what it was about Batman that she found attractive. Now, however, he only imagined himself in a Batman costume, and Jersey as Catwoman.

It wasn’t kinky. He’d actually recoiled into himself, imagined himself in his own childhood and all the different costumes he had owned. As if Jersey were just the girl next door, and it would be perfectly normal for them to run around in costume, playing make-believe. Sometimes, he felt he was doing that even now. He had a whole new name. A whole new life. He was running around, playing make-believe with himself. And now he had a friend who he’d invited into that world, who he could play with.

”Batman’s just a spindly guy, you know. That costume is all the bulk – the costume makes him look more endowed than he really is,” Peter said with a broad grin and a glint to his eye. ”Superman’s the one with the costume that leaves nothing to the imagination,” he added. ”I suppose that’s why I like Spiderman best. He’s not obnoxious. Nor does he try to make himself out to be more than what he is. He wears spandex, but it’s… I don’t even know,” Peter said. He had no idea where the conversation was going.

His own arm was still resting around Jersey’s waist, fingers curling against her thigh. They fit comfortably together. He leaned down to kiss Jersey on the top of her head, upon the crown, taking in a deep breath and the scent of her hair as he did so.

[Jersey]

She wondered what she liked in the past when it came to comics, or even geeking out. Did she like these things back then? Jersey considered it quietly as she stretched out her legs idly. It was just one of those things that she considered from time to time; she turned her head to press her lips lightly against his arm. It was the easiest place to go to without having to stretch up or have him lean down. Pulling the sleeves of her shirt down a bit over her palms, the blonde quietly looked at the tree line, watching as the wind blew through it lightly. As it went past them, she smiled at the scent of the forest.

Listening to him speak, she looked back to Peter and inclined her head slightly as a smile played across her lips. Her light colored eyes moved over his features and she gave a soft grin dancing across her features. The man was right, a nod going through as she hummed. "A necessity to keep his secret, rather than set those he loves at risk." She lifted her eyebrow, watching his grin and sliding her hand against his side once more. Chewing on her bottom lip idly, she considered on what to say before her eyes fell shut.

A shiver went through her body at the feel of his fingers on her thigh, but rather than do anything else, she curled closer into his side where she was happiest. "Regardless of the fantasy life though... nothing can replace my reality." Jersey adjusted slightly to press a kiss against his chest as she had before in the Asylum when she was dressing him. Tilting her head up, she gave a sheepish smile and knew that she would have been blushing had she the ability.

[Peter Parkman]

A necessity, she said, rather than set those he loves at risk.. True enough, Peter mused. Though no vampire that he knew ran around wearing masks and spandex. And there were plenty who set them all at risk by doing stupid things in public. By being seen. And he had no idea how the city still functioned.

It had been on his mind before. He’d sat there, staring into the flames as a book lay abandoned in his lap. Sooner or later the vampire population would grow too large, would it not? There’d be too many human deaths. Too many humans passing out and waking up in places they didn’t remember going to. What would the government do? Blame it on the water? Gas leaks? Some toxic poison that the entire city had been infected with for which they didn’t have a cure, because they didn’t know from where it had originated? Was the government at all savvy to the creatures that lived in the city? Did the vampires somewhere, somehow, have the government in their back pockets?

Because what happened when there were more vampires than there were humans? Would they spread out? Find new cities to invade? Would they figure out how to widen the rift that Peter imagined spread out beneath their feet?

Fantasy. Reality. Those words dripped from Jersey’s tongue as if they were fancy. But all of a sudden, Peter wasn’t so aloof anymore. He got all caught up imagining a writing purgatory, lost souls clawing to get out, beneath the ground upon which they walked. He imagined eyes in all the shadows, watching them. He imagined that everyone they passed was a vampire. That all the humans that he’d come into contact with in this city would soon die – because they had lost too much blood, because they had seen too much, or because they were turned. Just like Jersey was.

This didn’t feel like it should be reality. It felt like a fantasy – and yet it wasn’t a god one. A shudder ran down the length of Peter’s spine and he took a breath.

It was a compliment, he knew. What Jersey had said; he could see it in that look in her eyes. She wasn’t talking about her life in general, not really. She was talking about him – Peter Parker, vampire extraordinaire. But all of a sudden the wide open space wasn’t doing him any good anymore. He craved a confined space, a comfortable space, a familiar space. The smile faltered on his lips.

”I think I want to go home now. Let’s go home,” he said. He imagined that they would be returning to the cabin; forgot about his internment at the Asylum.

[Jersey]

She knew that expression. It was one that she had learned that signaled that he was thinking too much about something, or so she supposed. Whatever was going through his mind, however, was off limits until he vocalized it. Her hand gave his backside another soft squeeze before she moved it back to the spot just above the waistband of his jeans. She squeezed him there as well.

Green eyes watched him as she waited for some indication or response, finding the silence comfortable with him by now while her thoughts went back to the “to pick that name after tragedy.” After tragedy... he had told her he moved to the city after a divorce, the blonde recalled, but what did he mean by picking the name? Jersey traced her nails gently against his shirt while she exhaled quietly. Then again, was the divorce the tragedy that Peter had been talking about? Her eyebrows furrowed as she considered it.

The telepath was confused once again.

No, she didn’t think that it would be the tragedy...

Feeling the shudder, she moved her hand to rest against the small of his back as she felt her concern for the man rise. Her hand rubbed lightly against his spine. “Alright handsome.” She spoke into his mind and watched his smile falter. Jersey began leading him back in the direction of the Asylum, remembering Keara’s request for him to stay there while he healed. It was a better convenience for those that cared for him, really.

“What’s your favorite book?” She asked after a few minutes while she looked up at him for a moment before looking back to the direction where the asylum was. It was a topic she knew that he enjoyed, literature. “I remember that Tom Holland is one of your favorite authors.” If anything, Jersey was trying to distract Peter from his own mind. He called her his beloved distraction anyway. “But if you could name one book, what would it be?” She asked curiously.

[Peter Parkman]

The distraction doesn’t work as well as it could have. The mention of Tom Holland reminded Peter of all the fictional books that Tom Holland had written as well; two, in particular. The Vampyre and Supping with Panthers. Both about vampires. Very well written. Very well researched. And of course Peter had read them, before he’d been turned. But he’d been able to read them then with the proper suspension of disbelief. Now, though? He wondered of good ol’ Tom was actually a vampire himself, to be so interested, and so well-informed.

It wasn’t that Peter hated it. Not really. It was just taking him a little longer to adjust, was all. Maybe he’d have chosen this life, if given the proper preparation. He would not sink, that much he knew. He would fight tooth and nail to regain some kind of normalcy, and he knew that it would only take time. He would fine. But for the moment, for right now, he just needed somewhere safe and warm. Somewhere he knew. Baby steps.

Still, a question had been asked and the mention of Tom Holland led Peter to his answer; Tom Holland had edited and helped to re-issue a newer version of Peter’s favourite book. Hard cover and grey, it rested on Peter’s bookshelf at home, with several other copies of the same book.

”The Histories, by Herodotus,” he said. If Jersey was expecting a modern or a modern book, she’d be sorely disappointed. The majority of Peter’s favourites were the classics. Aeschylus, Dante, Homer, Sophocles. The list would go on.

”I like thinking about where we’ve come from,” Peter explained. ”I like reading about the men, the people who started… well, everything,” he said. He wasn’t explaining himself properly, he knew that. But he was answering the question for the sake of answering the question – his mind was still elsewhere, shackled by the anxiety that he didn’t really have any reason to feel. It came on suddenly, like an asthma attack. But worse.

”Why, what’s yours?” he asked, a little distractedly.