Chapter Text
The problem is, Peter mused as he sat in the hospital, is that I need to branch out. And stop falling in love with my straight friends. He narrowed his eyes in thought. Well, it only happened with John, but still. Peter thumped his head back against the wall at the thought of John. The man had just lost his wife to childbirth and here Peter was thinking about his feelings.
A nurse came out and waved at Peter. "You can come back now," she said.
Peter jumped and followed her. "Has John...?"
She shook her head sadly and Peter winced. John hadn't seen his new son at all; he was so wrapped up in the death of his wife. Which Peter got, but his son needed him.
The nurse stopped in front of the nursery. "There he is," she said. "I'll get him for you to see."
"Great." Peter rocked back on his heels. He liked kids, hell, there were enough of them running around at the house, but this was John and Andraste's son. He was something special, Peter was sure of it. He watched as the nurse brought the baby boy to the window. Peter smiled. The kid was cute. He squinted at the name on the bed and chuckled. Andraste did have a sense of humor. He waved and pointed to the door. The nurse nodded and put Genim Arthur Stilinski back in his bed.
Peter made his way out of the maternity ward and downstairs to where John was sacked out. The doctors and nurses didn't make their newly elected Sheriff leave; they stuck him in a room and left the job of getting him to go home to Peter.
Peter sighed as he walked into the room. "I know you aren't asleep, so don't bother faking it," he said kindly.
John said nothing. He lay on his side on an unused bed, facing the door. Peter sat in a chair next to him.
"Genim, huh? Nice name. Gotta give the kid a nickname though. He'll get teased for that name. And no one can say it."
"It was for her father. You can say it."
Peter shrugged. "Well."
"I can't, Peter." John choked out.
"He's cute. You should see him."
"I can't."
Peter growled. He was losing his patience. "Can't what? See your kid? Live anymore? What?"
"All of the above."
Peter kicked the bed hard, jostling John. "Well, leave him to me before you kill yourself please. We don't want the state taking him do we?” Peter watched as John shut his eyes tightly and sighed. "I know, okay? God, do I know it hurts and it won't stop hurting, but Jesus John. You have a kid and he needs you, okay?"
"Help me, please, Peter," John begged, his voice tight.
"Yes, of course. What do you need?"
"I don't know anything about babies. Move in with me. Help me out here, Peter."
Peter blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. But, he had promised Andraste that he would look after John and her kid if anything happened to her, so he said, "Okay. I can get my stuff and move in tonight."
"Kid's gotta stay a few more days," John mumbled.
"Fuck that," Peter said as he stood. "Kid's healthy, we can take him now. Besides my mom and dad would love to see him."
John nodded and sat up. Peter helped him off the bed as his legs threatened to go out from under him. "Thanks, Peter," John said stiffly.
Peter turned the man to face him and gave him a big hug. "No problem." He pulled away with a smile. "I love kids. Now, you go get him and I'll get the car."
John looked pained, but Peter wasn't budging. John nodded and Peter smacked himself in the forehead as soon as his friend left. "Fucked, so fucked," he muttered to himself. Then he followed John out.