Not being able to control the reasons they couldn't have a baby didn't lessen Peter's guilt. Logically he knew that it wasn't any different from any other guy who couldn't have children for some reason or another, perhaps more brutal, but no different. He hated it and emotionally, he didn't understand it. There wasn't a part of him that didn't love Bethel and yet his very makeup was attacking hers viciously. It hurt and confused and worried him. It made him feel guilty and angry without any outlet for any of that anger. Bethel cried and Peter was particularly vicious to the criminals of New York City. He never actually hurt or killed any of them, but he'd let them drop an awfully long way before he caught them or he'd let them dangle from an astounding height that would take firemen hours to get them down. He bounced them like yo-yos, wrapped them too tight to be comfortable and in general, acted more like a bully than usual. He knew it wasn't acceptable or right, but he was coping the best way he knew how because he had to go home and be strong and happy and okay for Bethel.
He was zipping up the suitcase when she walked in, the ghost of a smile on his face as if he were waiting to gauge her mood before he really smiled. When she collapsed into tears he went into protective mode, scooping her up in his arms and sitting down on the bed with her in his lap. He whispered to her, nonsense mostly, running his fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head.
"It's not your fault, PG." Apparently this was the time to tell her. She was already in tears so it couldn't get much worse. "The blood I took last week. My DNA...it's trying to assimilate with yours, but it's not working. It's doing the same thing that happens to human DNA and animal DNA in all the work I did on my dissertation. It's just...destroying yours. I'm sorry."
He'd known this was a possibility, even if he hadn't told her. He'd been doing research on cross-species genetics since he was sixteen. He'd tried to continue Dr. Conners work in a more successful way. Out of thousands of experiments and trials, one strand of DNA always killed the other.
no subject
He was zipping up the suitcase when she walked in, the ghost of a smile on his face as if he were waiting to gauge her mood before he really smiled. When she collapsed into tears he went into protective mode, scooping her up in his arms and sitting down on the bed with her in his lap. He whispered to her, nonsense mostly, running his fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head.
"It's not your fault, PG." Apparently this was the time to tell her. She was already in tears so it couldn't get much worse. "The blood I took last week. My DNA...it's trying to assimilate with yours, but it's not working. It's doing the same thing that happens to human DNA and animal DNA in all the work I did on my dissertation. It's just...destroying yours. I'm sorry."
He'd known this was a possibility, even if he hadn't told her. He'd been doing research on cross-species genetics since he was sixteen. He'd tried to continue Dr. Conners work in a more successful way. Out of thousands of experiments and trials, one strand of DNA always killed the other.