21.

"Dzien dobry, wszystko w porządku?"

Magda recoiled from the frosted screen door as if it had burned her. The figure outside, broad-shouldered with a wide brimmed hat, waited patiently. At last, she took the plunge, fumbled the chain, looked up at Erik frostily.

"I think you did enough to help" she told him. He was proud of how level her voice was, "Were you followed?"

"No"

"Are you – "

"- Certain." He interrupted. She sniffed, stepped aside.

"Then come in before anyone sees you"

As soon as the door was locked and bolted, she had turned with some of the frost melted away, most likely by the tears that were standing in her eyes.

"I knew you'd bring him home" she whispered, "But thank you for making it alive"

"May I see him?" Erik asked, hopefully. Sought rather than his mother's permission, an assurance that seeing him was a good idea. Magda nodded.

"Of course.. Sure.. he's – " she smiled briefly, as if at her own foolishness, "he's on the sofa, resting. He... hasn't told me anything about. You know. But it must have been bad. I didn't want him to be all by himself downstairs. In case he needs anything, or…"

Erik understood, somehow. Understood that one floor below was too far away for Magda to let her baby go alone right now. That she needed to be able just to walk a few paces and see him there, safe and sound at home. Thanked her with a smile, and walked to quietly knock on the door of the living room and enter.

Looking at him, curled up into a blanket-swathed lump with his hair mussed by the pillow he leaned on, Erik was reminded of how very young he'd thought Peter was that first time he caught sight of him. Pushing himself up to sitting, keeping a blanket pulled around his shoulders. Only watching silently whilst Erik came and sat at the other end of the sofa. Man and boy regarded one another for a long moment, before Erik had reached and laid a hand over the teen's.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, uselessly. Could think of little else to ask.

"Been better," Peter muttered, "Still pretty whacked out. Bit jumpy. Fine"

Through his palm Erik could feel a light tremor in the delicate hand under his. Could not tell if it was cold, or nerves, or memories that made him shake, but gently curled his fingers in and stilled the fluttering movement. Peter dropped his eyes, swallowed.

"I dream about it. It's… "

Erik let the boy's sentence trail out silence behind it. Squeezed that hand softly.

"It's alright. I understand" he said simply.

"Guess you do." Peter whispered.

"But you're home now. You're safe. I know that you must have been so very…"

Erik choked on the rest of his sentence. There hadn't been words invented yet to express the anguish he knew Peter now understood.

"Scared?" the boy suggested, and to Erik's immense shock offered him a weary shrug and the ghost of a smile, "Cold, tired, hungry – lonely? In pain? Yeah. I was. But that's nothing I haven't been before. I got better then. I'll get better now"

The look on the boy's pinched, pale face was resolute. Erik saw the terror of facing the world again, once that had been done to you, the knowledge that it was a long road back to square one, but saw also a sharp, steely resolve to do just that one day. Gave him a shadowy smile back.

"You're a brave boy, Peter" he said, "Your Mother should be very proud of you"

"Pretty sure she said so in between cooking" he smiled weakly, "Seriously, you wouldn't believe how many sheets of cookies she's made since I got back."

"And hopefully, how many of them you've been eating? You could really handle getting a few dozen cookies inside you, you know" Erik chided gently. Peter flashed a real smile for a second, before his face had clouded over again

"So…." The boy said, took a deep breath, "Dad. Bet you didn't see that coming"

"It wasn't exactly on my itinerary, no." Erik admitted, "But…."

"Buuuuut…?" Peter repeated, made a 'go on' motion with both hands, "But you're not staying because really, *these* kids?"

"No.." Erik laughed, very softly, "No I'm not staying. But because… I have things to do. And when I've done them, I'll need to vanish, Peter. I don't think I'll live if I don't"

"And if you weren't top of the Most Wanted?"

"If I were not," Erik began quietly, pulled his eyes up to meet Peter's and saw how anxious he was about this. Wanted to hug him, did not yet know if he should, "If my presence here would not put you and your sisters and mother in danger. Then yes, I would stay"

"Good." Peter flashed him a quick, tight smile, "I mean, Mom wouldn't have you but hey, I'd be cool with that. And maybe one day you'll undisappear again, right?"

"Right" Erik's smile was sharp, doubtful, but his eyes were honest, "One day perhaps. In the meantime though –"

"Yeah. Yeah – go and, umm…. Vanish, man. I'll –" he shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around himself, "I'll be here, like, probably sleeping for the next few months so, umm…"

"Will you be alright?" Erik asked. Still did not hug him, but placed both hands firmly on his arms, rubbed warmth into them, "You've been through a lot"

"I'll be okay, honestly" Peter offered him another of those weak, earnest little smiles, clasped his arms around himself, "That doctor guy – Hank - checked me out. No major harm done, he says I just need to get tons of rest and put a few pounds on, and Mom's taking good care of that angle"

"Are you sure? Perhaps it would be –"

"Dude, really. You should have seen her at dinner last night. I had five helpings. There were balance problems. I'll be fine."

Erik looked hard at the depthless eyes, radiant with an indefinable storm of emotion. His mother's eyes without a doubt, but there was some very faint ghost of himself there too – something hard perhaps in the line of his prominent cheekbones, something similar in the jaw. Peter didn't favour him much at all, really, but Erik saw strength there nonetheless that he felt he could trust. Could be proud of. Even shivering in a heap of blankets, obviously feeling sicker than he would admit, shaken up and disturbed by what had been done to him, there was still strength. He didn't hold back any longer, scooped the little body into his arms. It was like embracing a nervous bird, all twitching sinew and rapid heartbeat against him, but he yielded to the embrace immediately.

A tactile boy at the best of times, even more so when he felt so small and vulnerable, Peter didn't fight the strong arms that came around his back. Closed his eyes against the muscular chest and tried to calm his breathing. Let his father hold him for a long while, knowing that having him in his life wasn't as easy as yielding to a hug, but that for the moment it was all he could do. Wondered briefly if his life really would be any different now, and if he would ever get another warm, protective bear-hug from his father, whom he didn't know and yet somehow loved. Sighed softly as he was released, big weathered hands rearranging the blanket around his coat-hanger shoulders with attentive tenderness. Just like a real Dad, Peter thought, twitched a little smile, snuggled back down onto the pillow. His eyelids felt heavy, for some reason. It was tiring, all that moving and talking and feeling – and it was making him hungry. Didn't say goodbye as Erik gently got up, padded out and closed the door quietly behind him.