We sat in silence for a minute.

I found myself feeling unsafe for the first time since he'd come back into my life. Just the realization that this person who's out there, probably looking for at least one of us, isn't a person at all. Not to mention the fact that there was something less than a human who could see me right now.

I wanted to break the silence but was beaten to the punch by the garage door.

Jumping up, I left him there on my floor and ran down the stairs to see who it was.

I opened the door to the garage to see my sister jumping out of my dad's truck.

"Hey, Bowie!" My dad called out the window as the engine cut off.

I waved back, "Hey Dad!"

"Why are you here?" Cam asked, walking past me.

"Nice to see you too," I roll my eyes, "Do I need an excuse to be at my house?"

She just shrugged and continued into the living room.

My dad followed close behind and wrapped me up in a tight hug.

"I miss you rugrat. How's college?"

"It's fine, just college, you know."

Our little moment was interrupted by a loud yip and Cam yelling, "Who are you?"

We both hurried inside to see a loopy looking Peter stumbling down the stairs.

"I'm Peter." He smiled from underneath the ice pack and walked towards her.

In a flash she swung her backpack off her shoulder and hit him with it, causing him to topple over onto the floor.

"You are not nice." He mumbled, wincing as he tried to get back to his feet.

She looked ready to hit him again but I ran forward and grabbed the bag out of her hands.

"He's with me."

"Where on earth did you find this grunge wizard?"

"What are you talking about."

"I think she's talking about my beard," Peter added from the floor.

I glared at Cammy, "Be nice."

We both let go of the bag and it flopped to the floor, "Fine, but next time you should just bring Tony or Lorne."

"The last one is an immediate no."

She pointed a finger at me, "That gorgeous teddy bear will be mine."

"I'm so glad I'm hearing this." I heard my dad say from behind me, "wait a minute isn't that Callie's friend?"

It took me a second for my old cover story to come back to me, "Yeah, Peter."

"Huh, you haven't even talked to Callie in forever."

I shrugged and brushed it off, not wanting to talk about her. It was simple, inevitable, I guess. We grew apart, like most people.

Peter was still trying to get to his feet and keep the ice pack on his face, so I walked over to help him.

"Did you beat the poor bastard?" My dad asked, half jokingly.

"Psh, no," I stammered, "he just fell down some stairs."

"Yeah," Peter chimed in, "those ones, all of them," he waved his free arm towards the staircase, "I'm bad at them."

Wincing I whispered, "Please stop," in his direction.

My family stared at him for a minute before I just said we needed to pack some stuff and hurried Peter up the stairs.

Getting him inside my room and closing the door, I let out a breath.

"Sorry." He said as he sat down on the corner of my bed, "I should have just stayed up here."

"It's fine, okay?" I insisted.

I surprised myself by walking up to him and pulling his head to much chest in a hug. The more I met the demon, the happier I was to have normal Peter around. Something in the back of my mind made me feel like it wouldn't be a given much longer.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly from my chest.

"Yeah, yeah," I stammered, "come on let's just get some things and go."

We went back to hunting through my mess of a room. His eyes lit up when he saw the guitar leaning against a wall.

"Can I take it?"

"Of course, it's yours."

"No it's not."

"Says the only person who's played it, nay, the only person who's ever tried." I laughed, "You should play it on the street for cash."

He didn't even try to hide his enthusiasm as he slung it over his shoulder. I smiled. I would have bought him a new guitar if I would have thought it would make him that happy.

He grabbed a few pieces of clothing but didn't bother with the books, claiming it wasn't worth it if there wasn't someone to read them to him.

He shoved everything into an old backpack of mine and we headed downstairs.

Dad and Cam were watching a cooking show in the living room and waved goodbye. It was so nice to see them getting along so well, I knew how bad it hurt him that one of his daughters never wanted to see him.

"Wait!" Cam called to me, jumping over the back of the couch, "Mom when and got your meds refilled early. They're on the counter."

She skipped past me and grabbed the little paper bag off my obligatory pile of junk mail.

"Thanks," I take the bag out of her hand and hug her, "love you, I'll text you later."

"Sure thing weirdo," She smiles and then goes to sit back on the couch with dad.

We head out the door to my car and I help him load his stuff into the trunk and we get it.

"Meds?"

"Medicine," I explain, "antidepressants."

"What do those do."

"They keep me normal," I said flatly, not in the mood to relive the chunk of time last summer when my mom made it her mission in life to have me medicated.

He had to have sensed my coolness to the subject, so he didn't question me further.

I backed out of the driveway and we began the drive back to town.

Despite the swelling on the side of his face and my mom net of coldness, Peters mood was impeccable.

"What's got you so happy?"

"It's a good day I guess." He shrugs, "Reminds me of the old days."

"Yeah, it was a good summer," I said, almost feeling the demon mock me from inside him.

I thought about what he said about Peter loving me. The idea made my throat tighten.

"They're pretty much the only good memories I have."