Straight as They Come, Kinda

7: Sibling Love, Anyone?

Poison Ivy really lived up to her nickname. Even though she didn't visibly leave streaks and red patches on Peter's skin, she had blistered his soul right down to the core.

As soon as she had stepped through the doors of Snapshot and had sighted her brother coddled up in a corner, her heart had leapt in her chest. She had been glad he was alright-- on the most part-- but she wasn't going to take his disappearance last night lightly.

"Peter, not again. Don't you get tired of being beaten up?" She had groaned, arms gesturing at the boy who had stared at her through his dark lashes. "You're never leaving the house until you're 30, you can count on that."

And Peter-- despite his initial plan to calm Ivy down first, then, slowly ease her into the conversation about him moving out-- went right ahead to blurt out his decision.

"Uh, you're not gonna do that to me," he deadpanned, even though the look Ivy was giving him made him want to curl up into a ball and die.

"Are you trying me?" Ivy questioned. Her eyes narrowed until they were slits. "Are you really trying me, Peter?" She gave him a tight smile particularly because she couldn't smack sense into him with other people-- that included Colin, Austin and a couple of teens who were probably gonna get the whole thing on video and then upload it to Facebook or YouTube or whatever-- staring. Then again, maybe she could.

Judging that the situation was about to escalate, Colin motioned to the teens to follow him into the studio. He pulled a reluctant and pouting Austin along so no one would witness Peter's beatdown, for now. They would all watch it afterwards on the supposed Reality TV show cameras, and then laugh over some popcorn if Peter lost.

Plus, Austin had no say in staying. If he insisted, Colin would just show the broken stands and busted lights to Leo. The same ones he had helped a devastated Austin pack into the empty boxes of the new equipment they had replaced the old ones with. Simple as that.

Peter stood up, trying hard not to wince when his body responded to the action in a very painful way. "I'm not trying you. I'm just simply stating that I'm moving out. Let's just deal with it in a mature and calm way."

"Mature and calm?" Ivy mimicked. "If you had been mature and calm, you wouldn't be looking like you had a boxing match with Muhammad Ali." Her eyebrows furrowed downwards while she held an iron grip on the strap of her purse. "Then again your childish antics and quick temper are probably what got you into it aren't they? And lemme guess, it had something to do with Kayla."

You don't know how right you are. Peter looked down, avoiding her gaze. With an exaggerated cough that made his ribs ache, he covered his nose with the back of his hand.

His sister's delicate hands lifted to his face and Peter closed his eyes at the contact. Her fingers ran over his skin, lightly brushing the pale yellow tinged areas. He knew they were what she was touching; those bruises didn't hurt to touch.

"Look at yourself, Peter. Is this how you want to live your life? Aren't you tired of this stupid cycle?" Ivy's eyes searched his even as her hands fell from his face and brushed her chestnut brown hair from her face.

She was always so poised, so in control and in charge of anything and everything she touched. Peter admired that about her. Ivy was strong, so very strong. She had taken up the role of being both a mother and a father figure to Lily when her husband had left her several years ago. This admirable woman had given Peter a home and had contributed so much to his upbringing in spite of their indifferent father. She had been his mother too, for as long as he could remember. But birds don't stay in the nest forever. They have to do spread their wings, find their own path.