Also ghost!au because I really can’t help myself
Sonny seems jumpy the entire time Peter’s there. He glances back at doorways and opens the blinds of every room he walks into as if he’s trying to clear the air. In the kitchen, he lights incense that Peter recognizes as sage. The way Sonny’s acting right now is strange and not right and almost afraid of something that isn’t there and it doesn’t make sense.
“I’m not crazy,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he starts a pot of tea on the stove. “At first, it was a good thing. Or at least I thought it was. I missed him, and I needed him, and I was so happy to see he was still here. But it’s… it’s bad, Peter.”
The kettle shrieks and Sonny flinches. He’s not the same brave detective he is on the job, he’s broken right now with a certain age leering from behind his eyes. Elsewhere in the apartment something like coins rattle ominously and fall just as silent.
“I have grown sick of shadows. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. He must be tied to the apartment because he doesn’t follow me out. I tried- I tried looking for another place and he got angry. He scratched me.”
Sonny rolls up his sleeve to reveal three long parallel welts on his forearm.
“When I tried to put together a bag to stay somewhere else he started- he- I couldn’t leave.”
A mug of steaming tea that smells sweet and heavy is pressed into Peter’s hands. He doesn’t drink yet, too busy watching the way Sonny drums his fingers anxiously against the ceramic and glances toward the hallway.
“The sage helps. He doesn’t like it, keeps him out of the room. He’s hiding in the bedroom right now to avoid it.”
“Sonny…” Peter says gently. “Maybe it’s time to get some help, take off work. Losing Mike was hard on you, and maybe you haven’t dealt with the grief and the stress of the job is getting to you.”
“I’m. Not. Crazy!”
Jumping up, Sonny spills some of his tea on the table. He looks like he’s going to cry, and behind him the incense stops burning. Strange, but probably due to the sudden movement. With a shuddering breath, Sonny pulls at his hair and makes the most pained, childish noise Peter’s ever heard. He’s breaking. Peter steps towards him, but before his hand can settle on Sonny’s shoulder, he sees a flash of green eyes and a burning sensation coats his chest.
“Fuck!”
He stumbles backwards and glances down to see three lines of blood starting to stain his shirt, exactly like Sonny’s forearm. Invisible hands push at his shoulders until he hits the door.
Leave, a voice hisses in his ear, and before he seems to fall through the door he catches sight of Sonny crying.
❝ I have grown sick of shadows. ❞ and Starisi please
Published
SVU addict 