Double the Pietro

[Typhoid]

She chose the coffeeshop, because it was more private then the mansion's kitchen. "Let me get my things."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro nodded and waited where he was, for her to gather her belongings for their excursion.::

**************************

::It came as no great shock that the original Pietro was slowly becoming unhinged. He had complex emotional issues which predated his current life, and the few relationships that he had were the only parts of life which kept him relatively stable. With those stretched to an extent he had never had to cope with before, he felt without a proper safety net, and without such a safety net, he could, and would, fall into a depression deeper than he had ever before. He grew withdrawn, he drank more, and he engaged in other self-destructive behaviors. The only acts of self-harm that were thus far off-limits to him were that he refused to engage in infidelity, and that he vowed to go to work on time. Beyond that, he was morphing into an unrecognizable shell of himself, and had taken to spending more time than ever alone on the edge of the lake.::

[Typhoid]

As the original Pietro drew more into himself, Typhoid found herself increasing frustrated, and of course worried. She still spent time with his duplicate, finding that she couldn't avoid doing so, just to lend stability to the situation. She loved the duplicate Pietro, but she couldn't help looking at him and comparing him to how the original Pietro was suffering. As a result, she spent most of her nights with the original, unless she had to be elsewhere. It was frustrating for all of them, but she saw no other way to maintain a sort of balance.

She knew where Pietro had taken to going, and so she followed him some days, out to where he liked to sit. Today was no different. "Pietro?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro turned his head when he heard his named called. He set aside the bottle, which was nearly empty as it was, and looked up at her.:: "Hello Rossignol."

[Typhoid]

She came up to him, sat down next to him, and gently cleared his hair away from his face. "You picked good weather to sit outside."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro turned and looked at her, although he did not speak. He would have been outside rain or shine.::

[Typhoid]

"Pietro..." She ran her thumb over his cheek. "I'm not sure what to say to you, right now."

[Pietro Maximoff]

"I am not drunk," ::Pietro said, as though that what her primary concern.::

[Typhoid]

"I know." She said quietly. "You can't get drunk."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Yet one more aspect of Pietro's physiology that he detested. He ran his hand over his own cheek, feeling the stubble; he should shave, he supposed. Gathering his thoughts, he said,:: "If you have plans, or want to have plans, do not let me stop you."

[Typhoid]

"i don't want plans," she said. "With anyone but you."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro wished that he could believe her, and that, there, was a problem. He had never doubted her sincerity before. There had been times when he doubted that she understood the severity or underlying causes of a problem or a situation, but never had he doubted that she was sincere in her intentions or her words. He resented the situation and his duplicate for that; the day he came to resent her as well was the day he ended the relationship, with what remained of his honor.:: "I am drinking alone; you can find something better to do tonight."

[Typhoid]

"Uh uh, no," she said, shaking her head. She got up onto her knees, so she could get right into his line of sight. "I told you that if it came down to a choice between horrible consequences, or my having to lose one of you, I'd choose you. That's still my choice. If you want to pack your bags and leave right now, we'll go. But I'm not leaving you alone."

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro was silent for what constituted a long moment with him, before he shrugged his shoulder and said,:: "There is nowhere for me to go."

[Typhoid]

"Then we stay," she replied, nodding. "But please, tell me what's wrong."