"Peter, could you watch the boys for a little while? I'm trying to clean, but having them here is only making things worse." Gillian sighed into the phone as Walt started crying.
"Actually I'm… uh…" he hesitated; knowing what he had to say would come out sounding idiotic. "I'm babysitting."
"Did Lauren come home early?" she questioned.
"No, uh… I'm babysitting Amy. Mom got called away on a case and Vincent is out somewhere doing something. He needed to get away I think." Peter admitted. He knew his brother didn't tolerate sick people very well, and having him around while Amy was sick wouldn't make things any easier on any of them.
"You're babysitting your sister? Peter, she's a grown woman! You just don't want to take care of the boys, do you?" she was getting frustrated.
"Gillian, I'd watch them if I could, but I don't think you want them in a house full of germs; do you?" he knew playing in to her panicked mother side would be the best way to get him out of daddy-duty for the time being. He smiled to himself, her silence on the other end meant she was considering what he said. "But hey, if you want to bring them by, we could see what happens…"
There was no answer from the other end of the line. Peter was concerned for a moment, had she hung up on him or had something happened? It was then that he heard the front door knob jiggling. He got very worried very fast and walked over, gulping before he unlocked the door and swung it open. "Gillian? I thought we agreed…"
"Peter, I need you to do this, and I knew the only way I could get you to do it would be to bring them over here. I can't understand why you wouldn't want to spend time with the boys. You know they love you!" Gillian attempted to use guilt to get here way, but before she could work her angle any more, they were stopped as they heard a quiet call from upstairs. "Who was that?"
"Probably Amy, I told you I was babysitting her." Peter sighed as Gillian put the boys into a playpen and followed him cautiously up the stairs. "After last night, did you really think I would be making this up?"
His name was called again, quite softly, and they began to make their way down the hall quicker. "Amy?"
She stood in the middle of her room, hunched over, with a blanket surrounding her frail frame. Her face was white, her lips almost a shade of blue, and she was shaking where she stood. "Peter…"
Gillian took one look at her and snapped into mother-mode, commanding Peter to go downstairs and take care of the boys. "Amy, let's get you back to bed."
"No… no… I…" she trailed off. It was hard to think and she couldn't figure out how to express what she needed; the words wouldn't come out.
"I think bed is the best place for you, come on, you can lean on me." Gillian reassured her as she helped move Amy towards the bed. She could tell how warm her sister-in-law was even standing a couple feet away from her. Sitting her down on the bed, she looked down and saw Amy's cell phone sitting open on the floor. "Did someone call?"
The phone began vibrating and ringing again, and if it was possible, Amy went paler. She was, it seemed, terrified of the phone. Gillian nonchalantly picked it up, "Amy Gray's phone… no, she's unable to come to the phone right now. May I take a message? And what is this regarding? Does she have your…"
Trembling, Amy looked to Gillian for answers. "Who?"
"Well that was strange. I think it was a man… he wanted to talk to you about some case I guess. He said he'd meet with you soon enough… whatever that means, but he didn't leave a number." Gillian looked over at Amy who was now crying, what had she said wrong?