Homecoming (Peter, Sean, PM to join)

[Jacey (DELETED 6681)]

The first thing to assault her senses was the smell of metal. The second, the sounds of city life. Two things that had been missing in her life. It had been some time since Jacey had been in the city that she had just started to call her home. She had left abruptly, not telling Peter nor Sean that she was leaving. She knew the two of them would probably be angry with her. But there was no time to think about that. To think about the repercussions of leaving without a word. The message from her mother had been urgent. Something was amiss.

She didn't want to think about it. Every time she did, her heart broke a little more. Jacey leaned her head against the window of the dingy bus that she was riding. Her gaze focused on the steady drop of rain that ran down the window, seeming to race the other raindrops to the window edge. She had almost regretted her existence, regretted her desire to travel, regretted that she had made her way to Harper Rock where the thing had attacked her, regretted that Peter had turned her into a vampire. Why had Peter been able to save her, but she wasn't able to save her mother? Why hadn't her mother wanted to stay with her?

The bus pulled into bus station, gave one more lurch as it started to come to a stop, brakes squealing slightly as the air left them. The bus driver mumbled something incoherent. Jacey leaned down to pick up her backpack that she had wedged between her feet. Swinging the strap over her shoulder, she stood up and made her way down the aisle, careful not to bump into another person. Down the steps. Turning to the right to grab her last bag. Pulled up the handle and began to wheel it away.

She knew where she was going, all the turns and the like. The Asylum was calling her. And that was what she needed. A sanctuary. It was rough, watching her mother wither away. Even harder to have her mother tell her that she didn't want her help, that she just wanted to die peacefully. She hadn't blamed Jacey for what she was. Had accepted her, even. Jocelyn just did not want to suffer any longer, and she was sure that she would suffer if she were to do the same thing as Jacey. Cancer was a rough thing. The only regret Jocelyn had was not watching Cyrus grow up.

Cyrus. That was even tougher. Having to leave him behind with Satan herself. And he didn't even understand why. The day after Jocelyn had died, Jacey had to explain to Cyrus that she was leaving. That he couldn't come. He was confused, begging her to come with him. Jacey promised that she would come see him as often as she could, but he couldn't come with her. Two days after that, they buried Jocelyn. The next day, Jacey hugged Cyrus tight and left to go back to Harper Rock.

Jacey exhaled as she looked up to the building that her Sire had showed her. Said that she could call her home. There would be anger. Worse, there would be disappointment. What did Peter think? Did he think that she had disappeared? Died? Left, never to return? The guilt gnawed at her chest as she pushed the door open.

"Hello?" Jacey called, waiting for someone to appear.

[Peter Parkman]

The text message had been unexpected.

A lot had been unexpected in the few weeks. Since Christmas, life had been peppered with little unexpected things, but Peter couldn’t complain, on the whole. Christmas of twenty-fifteen would go down in history as one of Peter’s favourite; the memory of the night itself could not be marred by the events that had followed. Since Jersey’s arm had grown back, there’d been no more trouble. Plans for the wedding were coming along; the one hurdle they seemed unable to jump was the date. Peter was adamant that it should be a meaningful date; that it should be symmetrical in some way. They both seemed to be in a hurry and in no rush. An odd state of limbo.

Sean had also been around more often than not. When Jersey had lost her arm, Sean had helped; he had uttered his own disbelief at how and why it had happened, suggesting to Peter that they have a small party to celebrate the engagement. The way Peter had announced the engagement hadn’t exactly been conventional. Sean had a point, but Peter was uncomfortable in crowds. Who would he invite? It would be Keara and Enver, Jersey, Sean, and maybe Whit.

Which was another surprise. Whitaker. According to Sean, he and Whitaker had been communicating via email. Peter had assumed that Whit had left the city; he hadn’t heard from the man in months. Nearly a year, it had to be. Sean had also sired, and had stirred questions within Peter that he hadn’t asked himself. Did he worry about his progeny, and would it ever go away?

Peter realised, then, that he did worry. More than he knew. When he realised that Whitaker must be safe, and well, all he could feel was relief. And now here he was, a week later, holding his phone in his hand. Jacey. Jacey was coming back. She’d thought he would be mad, but he was only relieved. He was always only ever relieved. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t bend his schedule. He had work to do. But it was Jacey. He’d told her where he was, and she said she would come. She hadn’t given a time. So he waited. He continued to work; he assumed that she would be using her tome, as he had asked her if she still had it. So he remained in the attic, working at one of the table on his laptop. There were some journal articles that needed editing.

It was hard to focus, when he knew that Jacey was coming home. Any second now, he expected her to drop in, the tome causing her to materialise in front of him. He waited, while he worked, the dogs curled up in different positions around the attic.

He had no idea how to identify the feeling - but he was excited.

[Jacey (DELETED 6681)]

The first floor was empty. Not one person in sight. Quiet. She had only seen the first floor once, before Peter had given her the tome to come and go as she pleased. He had told her to use it, reminded her about it through his text to her. But she didn't. She was in the public eye. Needed to get somewhere where no one would see her disappear. So, she walked to the Asylum. Taking her time.

Standing in the empty room, Jacey dropped to one knee, putting her backpack in front of her. It was in there somewhere. Had been buried under the stuff that she brought with her. Where is it. . . Come on. . . Maybe she had lost it on the way back? That would just be the icing on the cake that was Jacey's life right now. Anxiety started to creep up on her. What would happen if she lost it? She hadn't been anywhere else in the Asylum but the first floor that one time and the attic. Her hand sped up, frantically searching the bottom of the bag. Finally, her hand felt it. Came across what she was searching for. Her anxiety ebbed. Oh thank god. . . Opening it up, she murmured to herself before she felt the pull, indicating that the tome was pulling her to the destination that she desired. She closed her eyes tight.

When she opened them, she was in the attic. She let out her breath that she was unconsciously holding. The same response that Jacey had every time that thing pulled her to the attic. She hated the sensation, but the tome came in handy. Especially if she was lost. And with her day dreaming, that was overly common.

In fact, she had been so focused on the tome, the idea of having lost it and then the uncomfortable pull of it, she was startled when a furry creature came bounding at her. She let out a small squeal, before realizing it was one of Peter's dogs. A smile appeared on her face as she leaned down to love the dog. "Oh, hello Lady! How are you, precious?" she questioned, rubbing her hands over her fur. "I'm missed you!" She planted a kiss to the top of the dog's head before standing up.

"Peter?" she called out, loud enough that her voice would carry. "I'm home."

[Peter Parkman]

The first sign Peter ever got that he had company was how excited the dogs got. They were his shield; his barrier. They were his comfort in the times that he needed it; though these days, he had Jersey for comfort. Within each other’s company they could overcome the overwhelming personalities of the people around them. They could dwell in their orb of happiness, and do their best to keep the violence at bay.

Peter was all too good at dwelling in his own spaces to avoid the world outside – to the detriment of the relationships with his childer. Jacey had left the city and Peter hadn’t noticed. Whit was in the city, but Peter hadn’t spoken to him for months. More. The same with Sean, though things with Sean were getting a little better. Peter couldn’t be angry with Jacey when he hadn’t reached out to her, either. Peter wasn’t so great at keeping things together, he’d realised. Peter had at least warned Sean. He’d said he wasn’t sure he was so great at the sire thing. Sean didn’t seem to hold it against him.

The dogs soon swarmed Jacey. As soon as her voice confirmed her presence, they ran to her. Anyone they trusted was someone they loved, and Jacey had never given them a reason to distrust her. Soon, she would be inundated with fur and licking tongues. Peter’s voice cut through the din of their quiet, excitable whimpers and their claws clicking on the wooden floor. He called each of their names and they sat; unhappy about being told to behave. But Peter didn’t think the blonde would enjoy being bowled over by their happiness.

”Jacey,” he greeted her, his gaze tripping from head to toe and back again – searching for physical ailments, though finding none. She’d been gone, out in the big, bad, wide world and now she was back, and she hadn’t died. She was unharmed. That was all that Peter could hope for. He stood, awkward and with his hands shoved into his pockets.

”I’m glad to see you’re okay,” he said. Yes, she’d told him she was fine, but it was better to see it, rather than just hear it. People could lie. And he was glad to see that Jacey was not lying.

[Jacey (DELETED 6681)]

Jacey smiled at her sire. The sight of her sire eased the sense of anxiety that had been building since she had been away. It was almost as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She hadn't wanted to leave, really, she didn't. Which was a surprise to her. For the first time in her life, she had felt that she had truly belonged somewhere. But responsibilities had to be taken care of first. And they had been, in a sense.

As Jacey crossed the room, she patted each dog on the head before she dropped her bag to the floor. Reaching Peter, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. It might make him uncomfortable, but Jacey needed the hug. She needed to feel grounded. Secure. Something other than the feeling that her world had been rocked. In case it made him too uncomfortable, she wasn't sure that he was in the first place, but if it did, she let go after a minute or so.

Her eyes darted up to look at his face. "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm sorry I've been away so long. I really am. I didn't mean to be away this long." She was babbling. She knew it. But she felt that Peter was owed an explanation. What if he felt like she abandoned him? Or what if he felt like she hated him or something? She couldn't bare that guilt. "My mom. . . She got sick, like I told you. But I didn't tell you that she died. I had to make sure she was okay. . ." It was something that she wanted to tell him in person. She felt like telling someone something like that over the phone was a terrible way to go about it. "I had to make arrangements for my brother. . ." She frowned slightly, something her facial features were unfamiliar with, but were becoming accustomed to as of late. "But anyway. Here I am! How are you? You okay? What did I miss?" She wanted to know everything. She felt like she had been gone for years, when really it had only been a few months.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter already knew the hug was coming.

They did make him feel uncomfortable. They always had. There was a bubble of space that existed around Peter, and he was always conscious of when someone stepped through it. There were only two people whose embraces he’d grown accustomed to; that he expected, and even looked forward to. One person, he had no choice but to accept it. And the other, he was wont to instigate on occasion. As awkward and protective as Peter was of his own personal space, he did understand that humans were not lone creatures. They were not built to be alone. Touch, intimacy, it was a requirement. It was built into their genetics. The majority, anyway.

Some, more than others. Jacey was one of those people.

Hugging was her prerogative. It was built into her smile, into her eyes. It was built into her body, as if she had been taught from a young age that it was a common thing, to hug people. That hugs were as common as handshakes or waves. As soon as he saw her making her way toward him, Peter knew what she was going to do. He had the opportunity to mentally prepare himself for it; to even lift his arms, to return the embrace, in some small measure. If this was how he had to show Jacey that he was glad she had come back, then so be it.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved when Jacey pulled away. It certainly wasn’t something that he would tell her, for fear that he would offend her, or make her think that he didn’t care. His care was merely shown in different ways. When she told him her mother had died, he wondered if he should hug her again. She mentioned her brother, briefly, but changed the topic. Peter’s mouth opened, then closed. The frown bent his features in half.

”I am sorry. About your mother… that is. I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. It didn’t seem right, to change the topic. ”Your brother? Is he okay? How old is he…?” he asked. He was clearly concerned – he gestured toward a pair of couches. If they were going to talk, the may as well make themselves comfortable; and, focused as ever, Peter didn’t answer the question that had been asked. Not yet. Not until he made sure that everything was okay with Jacey.

[Jacey (DELETED 6681)]

Jacey's lips pressed together in a thin line. Did she really want to talk about her brother? He was the one, and the only, person who depended on her. And she left him. With someone the two of them couldn't stand. Her hand reached up to her face, absently rubbing at one of her eyes. Not that her eyes were watering, thinking about the little guy. No. They just. . . itched.

She made her way to the couch, forgetting to pick up her bag and bring it with her. Her body dropped down onto the couch, ankles crossing over each other. An arm rested on the arm of the couch, absently picking at the fabric. Well, if she should trust anyone, and get the advice from anyone, it should have been Peter. Maybe he would have suggested something to her other than leaving the boy. But did she really want to bring him here, with her, where there were things that went bump in the night?

Where should she start? Should she answer question by question? Talk about her entire family? She had no idea. "My brother's seven. Just turned seven, actually. Kind of an. . .'oops' on my mom's part, ya know?" She shrugged her shoulder. "Anyway, with mom. . . ya know. . . she left me to decide what to do with him. I think she wanted me to take him wherever I went. She was always a go-with-the-flow type. But Gemma sort of. . . pushed. . . for him to stay with her. Better for him or whatever."

At this point, she made air quotes. "'I don't want my grandson to be with some dirty hippy child who can't figure out her life.'" Jacey rolled her eyes. It was something that she heard a lot. Even though her lifestyle wasn't considered hippy. It was just wanderlust. "But she's an awful woman. Awful. Can't stand the idea that he's deaf, like mom was. All the extra money she thinks she has to spend because he's deaf. Wants him to get cochlear implants. The whole thing." She scoffed, her anger now visible. "He's normal the way he is, you know? But what can I do? I can barely stay in one spot for longer than two months. Its no way for a kid to live."

She shifted around, uncomfortable. Her hand twitched, fingers tapping lightly against her leg.

[Peter Parkman]

If there was anything that Peter could be, it was reasonable. So much so that his advice might sound harsh. Even if it was delivered with clear, concise clarity, it did not need to be taken as truth. Peter had never been a father. He had wanted to become one; he’d nearly become one. But his wife and unborn child had been murdered, and now there was no possibility. If Jacey had brought the seven-year-old home, Peter would have helped to take care of him. He might actually have enjoyed it.

As soon as Peter took a seat nearby Jacey, the dogs swarmed; not just to him, but to Jacey too. They managed well enough on their own but if they had company within reach, they would get as much attention as they could. Jack and Ellie, the smaller dogs, jumped up on Jacey, immediately making themselves comfortable on her lap. Hunter laid himself down on Peter’s feet, while Lady and KD took either side of him. He’d grown used to the dog hair all over everything that he owned. He pushed his own hair from his face and leaned forward, considering Jacey’s woes.

”Statistics tell us that music, for example, has healing benefits to a person’s psyche, to their emotional wellbeing,” he said. It was a fact that came out of nowhere, but Peter had a point, and he was getting to it.

”To disallow your brother that which your grandmother wants to buy for him – whether she complains about it or not – might not be a good idea. She might think that his quality of life will be superior if he is given back his faculty of hearing,” he said, slowly. He was weighing the pros and cons. He spread his hands out in front of him – earning him a nudge from Hunter’s nose – and flipped to the other side of the fence.

”However, I do not know what kind of woman your grandmother is. She seems practical, but sometimes practical isn’t the best course. Children need nurturing and love. Especially if they have something wrong with them – if they have chronic OCD, for example. They need to know that they can accept themselves before deciding what to do about it,” he said. He could look at this from his own perspective, too. Could recall his own childhood – the one parent who wanted to keep feeding him medication and the other who wanted to just leave him be.

”Do you think that you will continue to travel, or that you will stay here for a while?” he asked. Maybe, in future, they could talk about it. They could see about bringing her brother here to stay; Keara and Enver had their Jamie, so why not?

[Jacey (DELETED 6681)]

Absently, Jacey rubbed her hands over Jack's fur, then Ellie's. The dogs seemed to be content enough to just lay on her, which was fine. It just made her miss Nico Blue and Dodger all the more. She made a mental note to go retrieve her dogs immediately. Listening to her Sire, Jacey bristled. She almost snapped at him before she caught herself. She wouldn't let a woman like her grandmother snap at someone who seemed to want the best for her.

"It might be superior to her, but where would that put Cyrus? Somewhere caught in the middle. Between two different communities: the deaf and the hearing. At least if he's deaf, he's got a community to back him. They understand, you know?" She scratched Jack's ear, staring at the patterns in his fur. Her grandmother had tried to force cochlear implants on her mother, once the technology had finally arrived. Her mother resisted every effort, even when her grandmother had threatened her. Her mother was always worried about losing that sense of belong. It was something that Jacey had always felt she lacked: belonging somewhere. That is, until she arrived in Harper Rock. Until she met Peter and Sean.

"I wasn't planning on leaving. Just to visit my brother. This place is home now. I actually like it here." And it was. She had a place to sleep, her dogs, friends, a family. The only thing that was missing was Cyrus. The little ray of sunshine.

"You'd like Cyrus. He's so lively. Keeps you on your toes. Always on the go. Mom had him playing tee ball and small fry football," she paused. Did Canadians watch football? Or was football soccer here? "American football, I mean. Not soccer. He couldn't stay focused with soccer." She shook her head, laughing a little when she remembered him running up and down the field, forgetting that he had to chase the ball.

"Anyway, I've been enough of a Debby Downer. Let's talk about something else."

[Peter Parkman]

Peter heard, and he understood. Jacey’s opinion, her passionate stance, was delivered in such a way that he could try to put himself in her shoes. It was always what Peter had to do – he didn’t deal too much in emotion, though he often was subject to strong bouts of it. Emotion was not something he had ever really understood, and it was something that often had to be explained to him. He often had to be told where someone was angry, or sad, and he’d had to teach himself what body language fit which emotion. If Jacey had snapped at him, Peter would not have understood why; the explanation, instead, did wonders.

”I was forced to take medication as a boy. It did me more harm than good. When I was old enough to decide for myself, I stopped taking it. I risked panic attacks, but I preferred to take that risk than to be numb all of the time,” he said. Jacey had moved for a change of subject, but Peter had to return the favour; he had to explain. He had to let her know that he understood.

”Implants are different. They’re permanent. I agree, he should not get them until he is old enough to decide for himself,” he said, weighing up the pros and cons. By comparing the boys deafness to Peter’s own disease, he was able to come to this conclusion, even though the logical part of his brain wondered why anyone would ever turn down the opportunity to hear. The sense of belonging didn’t mean much to Peter; he’d never really felt like he belonged anywhere. Even now, engaged to Jersey, he sometimes wondered why she had said yes. As welcome as Keara tried to make him feel, there were outside factors that kept Peter from truly believing he was wanted, or that he was not in the way. It wasn’t something that bothered him; it didn’t hurt. He knew he was difficult to live with, and he would understand and accept if others decided they didn’t want him around, much. He wondered if he would ever find his feet, or a place he felt so completely and entirely at home.

”If you choose to stay and make a home here, I don’t see why Cyrus can’t come to stay, too. It would be a strange lifestyle for him and you’d have to hire someone to take care of him during the day – but it’s possible. Eventually,” Peter said. Jacey would have to make sure she had a home, first. Somewhere they could both stay, safe and out of harm’s way.

Jacey may have suggested a change in topic, but Peter was steadfast.