Deerington Inbox

[quipsandthwips]

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[oddbod]

[On the morning Peter wakes up, a visitor scratches gently at his front door. He'll open it to find Agatha standing on the porch, in all of her tall-as-a-fifth-grader beauty, holding an envelope gently between her teeth. It's got Peter's name printed on the outside, and inside is one folded sheet of flowery stationary, filled front-and-back with Clara's slanty, all-caps handwriting: ]

Peter,

I don’t want to open with “If you’re reading this, then,” because I think we all know what a letter means, in a place with cell phones and texts. One of us would be climbing in through the other’s window if we could, saying something utterly ridiculous. Maybe there’s another universe where we are. But right now you know where I’ve gone, and you know why Aggie’s shown up to look after you (please do let her, she’s excellent at it), so I might as well just say what I need to say.

You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I mean that, Peter. I can’t think of a single person with a more incredible heart, who’s been put down so hard by the world and come back without a speck of cruelty. You make me want to be more like you every single day. You always have, even when we were barefoot and starving in England, stealing breakfast. Even after the Titanic, when you dropped your horrid accent, you never stopped being the little brother I looked up to. You never will, mind-wipe be damned.

If there is even the barest trace of this place left in my memory, I’ll come find you. That’s a promise. I’ve got an infinite lifespan and a brand new TARDIS to figure it out, and once I bust through some pesky universe walls, maybe I can finally take you for a trip. We could visit the planet with the dogs that don’t have noses, or the one where the sky’s a new color each day. You’d love their egg rolls. And I’d get you home in time to save New York, don’t worry. Maybe I could even lend a hand, though I’ll have to put together something sonic. Wine bottle, maybe? Dog biscuit?

I know this is terrible, and I’m truly sorry to be putting you through it, weak attempts at optimism and dog references aside. No part of me wanted to leave, but I’m at peace with it. I’ve been gone from my own world for five years, and if there’s one thing Deerington taught me it’s that I’ve been avoiding my future. All this time, living in these limbos, I’ve been torn between trying to be a human, and trying to be something else. But I know what I’m going to be when I go back. The Doctor handed his role to me, and I think I’m ready to step into it.

Whatever comes next for you, know this: I’m out there somewhere, and I always will be. Whether it’s one universe over or twenty, just look up, and you can always find me in the stars. Somewhere out there, I’m silently judging you for still being in your pajamas at this hour, then changing into mine and putting on some popcorn. Even if you aren’t in my memory, you’re always going to be in my heart, you ridiculous boy. I love you so incredibly much.

Always and forever,

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

revenge

[quipsandthwips]

[Peter is utterly devastated.

As much as he cares about so many people in this town, he feels like he's lost the last thread of his very small, very fragile family. It's him standing in front of May's hospital bed all over again, preparing to become the sole survivor of the Parker family; there is an entire other lifetime of that same kind of loss, stored away awkwardly in the back of his mind. Memories of losing what family he had left in Europe, as a little orphaned boy from the 1800's. It's pretty screwed up, isn't it? That some of them have whole other lives in their heads, blurry but no less a life that felt lived in.

So now he's the last of that family, too. Clara's gone, just like Wade.

It's hard to think about that kind of thing, so he sits numbly for a little while with the letter in his hands, fidgeting with it, not really looking at it. Or anything, for that matter. Agatha is sitting near him, her once thumping tail still, a whine escaping her. It's enough to snap Peter out of his trance, and he rushes to get her some sliced ham out of the fridge (it's new, the only thing in there that isn't expired, honestly). The last thing he wants is for the one last living connection to his sister to die from hunger, okay?

He sits down and opens the letter back up again, and reads it all over, and then he starts crying. Second time is the charm, once the shock of it wears off. Which is dumb, right? He shouldn't be shocked, because he had prepared himself for this day... he thought. People come and go. He should have been prepared. But he also can't help but think — like he does every time someone he loves goes away — that he didn't say "I love you" enough.

It's enough to send a guy into a spiral.

Typical Peter Parker.]

Clara,

I'm writing you a letter that will probably never reach you, but I have to do this. Maybe a little selflishly for myself, but also because I love you too much not to, and maybe this can reach you out there somewhere. Maybe Doug or Sodder'll take pity on me and somehow put this in your hands. I don't know. God, wouldn't that be nifty?

I promise I'll look after Aggie, though (even if I can barely take care of a houseplant) and she'll always be okay as long as she's under my roof. So don't even sweat that, spacelady. If you can ever remember and find me again — I would love to visit time and space with you. I'd love to pet all the weird alien dogs and maybe enjoy some egg rolls. See a black hole or an exploding star and maybe panic about it.

And — I'm sorry that I wasn't there to say goodbye.

I feel like you've taken care of me more than I can ever repay. I don't know what to say. I know I would be even worse off than I am now, if I didn't have you backing me up. I've never had a sibling before, but... since the day we'd walked into that mine tunnel together, you helped keep me going. I think you give me a little too much credit, but maybe that's exactly the thing I needed. Need. Will need.

I'll do my best to keep going here. I've got a job, too. I need to see it through, right? Even if it hurts sometimes. I'm sure that's something you already know too well.

So... "The Doctor" suits you. You're gonna go do great things, Clara.

I wish I could see it all. Maybe someday I will.

It's just not fair that you can miss someone so soon after they leave.

I love you, too.

𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳