[ For a moment she just watches him, watches the way he breathes and how peaceful he looks. She runs her fingers through his hair, and brings them down to trace his jawline. ]
I'm sorry. I was careless.
... And I have no idea how I'm going to tell you what you are.
[ She sets him down gently, and moves to pick up their things. Though not before she gets rid of the remaining bodies the same way she got rid of Mordo- with flashes of white-hot flame, they're reduced to ash in seconds.
That done, and with Peter's bag and weapons slung over one shoulder, she picks him up. Staying in town is probably too risky, and besides, he'll likely be glad for solitude when the truth comes to light.
They were going to resupply, but with Peter unconscious in her arms, they don't have that luxury. So she heads north, towards the looming mountain peaks in the distance, putting as much distance between them and the sight of... whatever that was, as she can.
But the sky begins to darken and thunder rolls in the distance. Fortunately she comes across an old cabin before the rain begins to fall. Judging by the rust on the door hinges and the layers of dust covering everything, it hasn't been used in a while. But there's a fireplace, and a bed. Rain begins coming down in sheets, and it's likely that they won't be going anywhere for a while anyway, so she tucks Peter into the bed and builds a fire.
Maya herself pulls an old chair over and just... sits by the bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. ]
[ At some point, he thinks, he really has to stop waking up to unfamiliar ceilings.
At least he's not in pain, aside from the usual stiffness and little aches that come from a deep sleep, and that's a definite improvement over the last time he woke somewhere new and strange. For at least half of a minute, with the rain providing a constant white noise as it pounds on the roof, he contemplates drifting back to sleep.
But they were in a hurry, weren't they? Well, maybe not in a hurry, but there was definite discussion about not staying in one place too long, for fear of getting caught, and he wonders if it's the rain or him that's keeping them holed up here. Probably both, but he's trekked through worst weather than this.
So he sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and turns, looking for-- ah, there she is, sitting beside the bed. He wonders how long she's been there, watching him wake. ]
How long was I out? [ His voice is still thick and hoarse, but it's a marked improvement over his speech from before, with different forms of magic pulling him down into unconsciousness, making his everything lethargic and heavy. ]
[ He's rubbing his eyes again, and he misses the movement, but he glances back at her when he's done. ]
Tired, but fine.
[ He looks around the room, at the dust-covered floor and the crackling fire. The cabin is an old one, that much he can tell, and despite its poor maintenance, it does an admirable job of keeping the rain and the wind out.
He shuts his eyes and draws up his legs a little, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The sound of the rain is seriously making him want to curl up and pass out again, and he wonders if whatever sickness from before was the cause of it--
He starts at the memory. ]
Shit. Are you okay? You weren't feeling great earlier, either.
[ The look she gives him is serious and appraising and- try as she might- her eyes keep sliding back to the glint of silver around his neck. She purses her lips, finally catching and holding his gaze. ]
Are you ready to talk about what happened back there? You're going to need to know- so I will tell you eventually, but I want to know if you're ready now.
[ He doesn't even notice the pendant hanging from his neck until the second time she glances at it -- and on the final time he grasps it, pulling it up and over his head to hold the pendant in his hand. He glances up at her, trying for a smirk, but it's clearly a nervous one. ]
The way you're talking about it isn't very reassuring, I can tell you that much. Whatever happened, it couldn't have been that bad, right?
[ His smile falters entirely, and the way Maya looks, the way she sounds, is really starting to freak him out. His words are far sharper than he means them to be. ]
But maybe he's misunderstood. Maybe he's jumping to conclusions. So when he looks back at her, he looks desperate, panicked. His eyes are slightly wide and his breath is starting to go ragged. ]
[ For a long time, all he does is stare down at the amulet in his hand -- small, silver, engraved with a simple, swirling design. He's carried it everyday of his life for twenty-six years.
Maya wouldn't lie to him. It isn't in her nature. She couldn't be mistaken about this, either, that much he knows -- she wouldn't have said anything unless she was sure.
The panic goes out of him, the desperation and the fear, and he just feels-- blank. And when he speaks, he sounds strangely detached. ]
[ He presses the heel of his palms to his eyes, the pendant danging around the chain hooked around his thumb, and he still sounds numb, despite the sarcastic tilt of his words. ]
Should I feel better or worse about that? "You're a demon, but at least you're unique"?
If I had figured out what the pendant did sooner-- [ that's a load of bullshit, and she knows it. Demons can't sense spells that suppress their nature. That's the whole point of them.
Still, she can't help but feel responsible. Like there was something she could have done to stop it. ]
-- Stop it. [ He blurts it out before he realizes he's even speaking. ] Just-- stop.
[ He doesn't want to keep hearing her apologize for something she didn't know about, something he didn't know about. Because he's really fucking confused right now, and on the one hand, he's scared as hell (because he's a demon how the fuck can he be a demon there's just no fucking way) and on the other he's angry (did mom know of course she did of course she fucking knew she gave me the pendant but why didn't she tell me and maybe this is why I never met my father); and there's a part of him that's saying, it sort of adds up, and another that's screaming, no, no, no, please, no.
He thinks back to the night he met Maya, when she told him he had magic in him. And he had signed that contract with Maya because he wanted power, right? Had wanted to get back at the people who wronged him? Well, he certainly has that power now, doesn't he?
And, in a way, it's sort of funny. Actually, it's sort of hilarious. He has power, and he doesn't fucking want it.
Maybe that's why he's starting to laugh -- silently, at first, just little choked sounds that make his shoulders shake -- before it blooms and grows in volume, sounding helpless and empty and panicked. ]
[ He startles her into silence when he snaps at her, and all she can do is wonder why this had to happen this way.
She hates the look on his face as he wars with his feelings, and when he starts laughing--
When he starts laughing her heart breaks all over again, because it shouldn't be this way. She never wanted to hear something so desperate and bereft of humor from Peter.
She reaches for him then, putting a hand on his shoulder. She doesn't know what else to do. She has no words to say, no solace to give. ] Peter?
[ Her touch is enough to startle him out of his hysteria, and his head snaps up to stare at her hand. He swallows down the next laugh bubbling up in his throat and tries to get himself back under control.
It's a long while before he covers her hand with his -- and if his grip is a little too tight, he's not aware of it. His voice is just barely audible above the noise of the rain. ]
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I'll get us somewhere safe.
[ I owe you that much. ]
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[ His little smirk at that is a distant one, followed up by a frown, but his eyes are already starting to droop. ]
Not-- not a child...
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Let me protect you, Peter. That's what partners do.
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That's just fighting dirty.
He hesitates a few moments longer before nodding again and leaning forward against her. ]
'Kay. Trust you.
[ And with Maya's healing magic generally making him drowsy, and the calming effect of the amulet working overtime, he's unconscious in an instant. ]
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I'm sorry. I was careless.
... And I have no idea how I'm going to tell you what you are.
[ She sets him down gently, and moves to pick up their things. Though not before she gets rid of the remaining bodies the same way she got rid of Mordo- with flashes of white-hot flame, they're reduced to ash in seconds.
That done, and with Peter's bag and weapons slung over one shoulder, she picks him up. Staying in town is probably too risky, and besides, he'll likely be glad for solitude when the truth comes to light.
They were going to resupply, but with Peter unconscious in her arms, they don't have that luxury. So she heads north, towards the looming mountain peaks in the distance, putting as much distance between them and the sight of... whatever that was, as she can.
But the sky begins to darken and thunder rolls in the distance. Fortunately she comes across an old cabin before the rain begins to fall. Judging by the rust on the door hinges and the layers of dust covering everything, it hasn't been used in a while. But there's a fireplace, and a bed. Rain begins coming down in sheets, and it's likely that they won't be going anywhere for a while anyway, so she tucks Peter into the bed and builds a fire.
Maya herself pulls an old chair over and just... sits by the bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. ]
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At least he's not in pain, aside from the usual stiffness and little aches that come from a deep sleep, and that's a definite improvement over the last time he woke somewhere new and strange. For at least half of a minute, with the rain providing a constant white noise as it pounds on the roof, he contemplates drifting back to sleep.
But they were in a hurry, weren't they? Well, maybe not in a hurry, but there was definite discussion about not staying in one place too long, for fear of getting caught, and he wonders if it's the rain or him that's keeping them holed up here. Probably both, but he's trekked through worst weather than this.
So he sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and turns, looking for-- ah, there she is, sitting beside the bed. He wonders how long she's been there, watching him wake. ]
How long was I out? [ His voice is still thick and hoarse, but it's a marked improvement over his speech from before, with different forms of magic pulling him down into unconsciousness, making his everything lethargic and heavy. ]
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[ She reaches for him- though really she's not sure why, so she stops herself, letting her hand drop. Her eyes flick to the amulet around his neck. ]
How do you feel?
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Tired, but fine.
[ He looks around the room, at the dust-covered floor and the crackling fire. The cabin is an old one, that much he can tell, and despite its poor maintenance, it does an admirable job of keeping the rain and the wind out.
He shuts his eyes and draws up his legs a little, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The sound of the rain is seriously making him want to curl up and pass out again, and he wonders if whatever sickness from before was the cause of it--
He starts at the memory. ]
Shit. Are you okay? You weren't feeling great earlier, either.
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Are you ready to talk about what happened back there? You're going to need to know- so I will tell you eventually, but I want to know if you're ready now.
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The way you're talking about it isn't very reassuring, I can tell you that much. Whatever happened, it couldn't have been that bad, right?
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Maya, just-- just fucking tell me.
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It stopped working on you.
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[ --Oh.
With that, he suddenly goes numb.
But maybe he's misunderstood. Maybe he's jumping to conclusions. So when he looks back at her, he looks desperate, panicked. His eyes are slightly wide and his breath is starting to go ragged. ]
What the hell are you talking about?
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... Well, half actually. I think. But I saw it with my own eyes.
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Maya wouldn't lie to him. It isn't in her nature. She couldn't be mistaken about this, either, that much he knows -- she wouldn't have said anything unless she was sure.
The panic goes out of him, the desperation and the fear, and he just feels-- blank. And when he speaks, he sounds strangely detached. ]
I killed those men, didn't I?
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The things you can do... I've never seen its like. I've only heard stories.
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Should I feel better or worse about that? "You're a demon, but at least you're unique"?
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Human life allows us access to the human plane, and the binding took.
[ a beat. She's not very good at this consoling thing. ] I'm sorry. This is my fault.
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What have you got to be sorry for?
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Still, she can't help but feel responsible. Like there was something she could have done to stop it. ]
It's because of me that you've gone through this.
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[ He doesn't want to keep hearing her apologize for something she didn't know about, something he didn't know about. Because he's really fucking confused right now, and on the one hand, he's scared as hell (because he's a demon how the fuck can he be a demon there's just no fucking way) and on the other he's angry (did mom know of course she did of course she fucking knew she gave me the pendant but why didn't she tell me and maybe this is why I never met my father); and there's a part of him that's saying, it sort of adds up, and another that's screaming, no, no, no, please, no.
He thinks back to the night he met Maya, when she told him he had magic in him. And he had signed that contract with Maya because he wanted power, right? Had wanted to get back at the people who wronged him? Well, he certainly has that power now, doesn't he?
And, in a way, it's sort of funny. Actually, it's sort of hilarious. He has power, and he doesn't fucking want it.
Maybe that's why he's starting to laugh -- silently, at first, just little choked sounds that make his shoulders shake -- before it blooms and grows in volume, sounding helpless and empty and panicked. ]
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She hates the look on his face as he wars with his feelings, and when he starts laughing--
When he starts laughing her heart breaks all over again, because it shouldn't be this way. She never wanted to hear something so desperate and bereft of humor from Peter.
She reaches for him then, putting a hand on his shoulder. She doesn't know what else to do. She has no words to say, no solace to give. ] Peter?
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It's a long while before he covers her hand with his -- and if his grip is a little too tight, he's not aware of it. His voice is just barely audible above the noise of the rain. ]
Sorry. I don't-- I don't know what that was.
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She moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in to press their foreheads together. ]
Hey. No matter what, you're still Peter.
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