And that's how Pyotr wakes, squinting his eyes against the weight of sunlight sneaking in past the curtains. His chest rises and falls under the far more welcome weight of Erik's head -- at least until he recalls the substance of his own anticipations. He was promised peace and time as a formless ghost; he recalls nothing of the sort. But the bloodloss, his body's current weakness...

It couldn't be that Erik cheated him, could it?

"Hey," he says hoarsely, putting a hand on Erik's shoulder to jostle him awake. "Hey. Erik. Wake up."