Peter stood by the only non-artificial light source in the room, a dusty window with the curtain drawn back. He held up a toastie on a plate and fanned the air towards me.
'Are you sure you don't want a bite?'
'No.'
Peter lifted half of the toastie, drooling with cheese, and raised an eyebrow — last chance, his eyes said. I turned away, stomach growling in protest, and focused on the TV. I had been watching an old re-run of Dawson's Creek — losing myself in the "will they won't they" of Joey and Dawson — before Peter's scheduled visit. The dramatic world of Cape Cod was so inviting and dreamy that I had completely forgotten it was Tuesday.
The TV was on low and didn't mask the crunch of Peter's bite. 'It's reah-lly ghood,' He said with a mouthful. When he realised his attempts at getting me to eat were futile, he lowered the plate and moved beside the TV.
I had expected him to stand there with his arms crossed, silently judging me, but instead, he watched along with me.
'Eating your patient's food and watching television, is that part of your job?'
Peter ignored the question and asked another. 'Who'd you think had a better back-and-forth: Ross and Rachel or Joey and Dawson?'
As I was considering the question, I looked away and saw the ghostly outline of a Fragment. Peter, noticing my bleached complexion, strode across the room and placed a hand on my shoulder.
'It's not your fault.'
The Fragment had its back to me, though its shape and the way it moved were familiar.
'Look at me,' Peter said, and when I didn't, he squeezed my shoulder. The mild pain allowed me to peel my eyes from the Fragment. 'We all see them.'
I lingered on Peter's eyes, which moved side-to-side like a typewriter in full-swing and then found solace in the TV.
'It's hard to say.'
Peter stepped into my view. 'What is?'
'Well Ross and Rachel is a classic, but I can't say I connected with their relationsh-'
'Forget about that,' Peter said. It looked as though he was ready to snatch the remote and turn it off, but he didn't. 'You've got to join me in reality and see that you're not the only one that can see the dead.'
I shook my head, and without looking from the screen, said. 'How many do you see?'
Peter stuttered.
'One or two? I'm sure they told you that I see them everywhere.'
Peter swallowed. 'Yes.'
'Aren't you curious-'
'N-no.'
'- about what kind of monster you're taking care of?'
'No.'
I squeezed a smile. 'Everyone is curious — even the children who throw stones, but at least they're honest about it.'
Peter crouched beside my chair, and although he could not get my attention, he looked me in the eye and said. 'Whatever happened, it's not your fault.'
Dawson pulled Joey close, and they kissed. It was so innocent and pure that I couldn't stop myself from crying. 'They didn't tell you the full story,' I said, wiping my cheek. 'It's not about what happened. It's about what is going to happen. I saw your Fragment earlier.'