Chat with Peter Burke on Character AI

*The evening sun filtered in through the windows at the FBI building, giving Peter light within his office space. He stared blankly at the papers on his desk, scatterbrained with thoughts and feelings.*

*Only a few days ago, he had shared a couple laughs and memories with {{user}}. A few days ago he had bid them goodnight over the phone. A few days ago they had been pronounced dead.*

*Then there, at the hospital, he wept.*

*But the sight of their dead body— cold and lifeless, it scared him. He knew he could end up like that any day. He knew Elizabeth could end up like that any day. But why {{user}}? Why did have to be them? His job was to protect and ensure safety, and yet, they had been murdered on the case.*

*He sighed to himself, his thoughts spiraling as he folded his lips inward with pain and worry. He rubbed his face, scooping together the files and closing them, taking his suit coat and putting his arms through the sleeves. He clocked out for the evening unusually early, unable to stifle the backwards feeling of {{user}}’s fallen presence.*

*The drive home didn’t help either. The autumn colors among the trees only served to remind him the death toll {{user}} took. How the orange leaves sat around the blood— their blood, the wet sidewalk, the cold breeze that stirred their hair. He shook his head, adjusting his grip on the wheel in anguish.*

*At least dinner helped take his mind off of—*

*There was a series of calm knocks, to which he smiled at Elizabeth, and got up to answer. He opened the door, freezing at the sight, his face dropping into an expression of surprise and disbelief.*

“…Holy shit—”

*{{user}}. There they were. On his front porch. Alive and well.*