[ Peter takes a moment to appreciate the view from here before he grabs up his guns; he peers at the creatures Maya's pointed out, before humming thoughtfully. ]
They kinda look like dragons.
Any trick to this, or just wait for them to go "Boo!" and shoot like crazy?
They can only stay cloaked for a few seconds at a time. The air sort of shimmers when the pop in and out. Hurt them badly enough and they can't cloak at all.
[ The interesting think about the digistruct network is that one can keep just about anything in their pocket, as evidenced by Maya, who scrolls through the items in her "backpack" with the push of a few buttons and pulls a sniper rifle out of thin air. Maya has a preference for Maliwan ordinance, it seems, because it's a Maliwan-brand sniper, with glowing blue lights on it. ]
But I don't mind thinning the crowd a little first.
[ Peter is always impressed whenever Maya uses the digistruct device (which he insists on calling her magical gun rack), but he likes the reassuring weight of his blasters at his hips too much to really be interested in one for himself. ]
Oh, Maya, it does such things to me when you start threatening to kill stuff.
[ She shoots him a smirk, raising the scope to her eye. The stalkers are just kind of milling around, and she sets her sights on one lounging in the sun. ]
Get ready.
[ The crack of the sniper rifle is deafening in the quiet of the preserve. The stalker goes down, convulsing as electricity courses through it from the bullet in its head.
The other stalkers immediately poof out of sight in a panic. The second one poofs back in, she targets it and lets off another shot. A few of the creatures have gotten wise to where the gunfire is coming from and start making their way up the hill. ]
[ The weird excitement in the pit of his stomach right before a fight is a familiar one, and Peter can't help a smile. Shooting things for money is familiar. It's normal, and something normal has been long overdue.
Despite both their efforts to keep up the same flirtatious rapport from before the kidnapping, Peter feels like something is still a bit off, something prickling just beneath the surface like a splinter. He hopes that falling more and more back into their old routine will eventually start helping.
He surges forward to create a buffer between the stalkers and Maya, knowing she'll need the breathing space to properly snipe. When one of the creatures comes back into view, he fires off a few bolts of electricity from his blasters, hoping to redirect their attention onto him. He thinks it works, but it's hard to tell considering they've popped out of view again. ]
Hey, what if I tamed one of these and kept it as a pet? Thoughts?
[ Turns out one of the stalkers decided to jump its way up the sheer side of their little hill, and takes Maya by surprise when it appears right next to her. She puts it in a phaselock on instinct. She anticipated the slow trickle of blood from one nostril, but not the sharp, sudden pain in her head. She visibly winces and shrinks back a step, but keeps her faculties about her long enough to draw her precious little Maggie (why would someone keep that gun locked up in a vault somewhere, really) and shoot the stalker point blank in the face. That little gun hits like a hammer and the stalker drops.
Maya presses the back of her hand to her nose and deliberately does not look at Peter. That could've gone better. ]
[ Peter hears the familiar fwoom of a phaselock -- but hearing it behind him spurs him into motion.
A stalker reappears to his left which he quickly dispatches, then runs back up the hill to where Maya had hunkered down. He doesn't miss her wince, doesn't miss the blood, and he definitely doesn't miss the way she avoids his gaze. ]
What happened? [ His worry makes his words come out a little sharper than he intended. ]
Yeah, okay, sure. [ He doesn’t meant to sound as angry as he does, but concern is overriding any efforts to the contrary. ] Except you really don't look fine. Like, at all.
[ He frowns as his gaze wanders over her face, and he really wishes she would just look at him -- just a glance or a smile or something to reassure him, no matter how small. He's barely taken a breath before he comes to a decision; his voice doesn’t soften. ]
[ She does look at him then, and for a moment her expression is caught somewhere between angry and scared and hurt. Finally she settles on anger and fixes him with a glare. ] You want to go? Go ahead. I'm staying to finish this.
[ Her anger catches him off-guard, and his surprise is written clearly on his face as he gapes at her. The moment passes, however, and his expression snaps back into something between annoyed and pissed. ]
Like hell I'm letting you stay here and migraine yourself to death.
[ When he grabs her hand -- the one currently not carrying a sniper rifle, thanks very much -- his grip is firm but not ungentle, and he starts marching back toward the Fast Travel. ]
We are going back to the ship, and you are gonna get some rest.
Let go. [ she digs her heels in, and yanks her hand back ] You don't need to coddle me! I'm not a child.
[ That last word is full of such venom, such raw hurt, she she shocks even herself. God, what was she doing? She's not mad at Peter. She's mad at her own inability to move past this, her lack of strength and foresight that got her into this situation to begin with. She's mad at how scared she is.
It's over, the Order paid their price, she has her memories back, so why isn't everything okay again?
As quickly as it came, the anger just drains out of her. She sinks slowly to her knees, face buried in her hands ] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
[ The rage and hurt in her voice pierces him better than any sword ever could, and Peter's hold on her wrist becomes boneless. He's never heard her speak this way, and oh, it hurts, and at first all he can think is What did I do?, and then he thinks about how he never wants to hear that pain in her voice ever again.
For a long moment he's shocked into silence after she sinks to the ground, and he just stands there staring at her. He doesn't know what to do -- of course he doesn't know what to do except upset her, he can't even protect her, and why is he so goddamn useless all the time? -- and he's frozen to the spot.
Then all at once he takes action: he kneels in front of her and gathers her into his arms, resting his cheek against the top of her head. It's awkward, he'll admit, with the way her hands cover her face and the way their knees bump together a little, but it's better than gawking. ]
Please, don't-- It's okay-- [ And it comes out as barely more than a whisper, because he's so damn worried and scared for her. ] Don't-- I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to upset you. It'll be alright, okay? I'm sorry.
[ He brings up a hand to gently stroke her hair, and he's about to murmur more stupid platitudes, more apologies -- It's okay, I'm sorry, it'll be alright -- but the familiarity of this strikes him (haven't we done this before?), and he stills. ]
[ She's quiet for a long moment, contemplating the small patch of grass she can see from under his arm. Saying it out loud makes it real- when it was all in her head, she could just push it aside and pretend it didn't exist. ]
I'm sorry that I can't beat this. I'm sorry I'm not stronger.
[ He pulls back to look at her, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
He speaks sternly and in earnest: ] Hey, you've got nothing to apologize for, okay? Nothing. You've been amazing about this whole fucked-up thing, as far as I'm concerned, but no one's gonna fault you if you need a hand with-- with dealing with this.
[ It seems he's lost most of his steam at this point, if the pause is anything to go by, but then he puts a hand beneath her chin to gently tilt her face to him. ]
Just tell me what you want or what you need me to do, and consider it done, alright?
[ She smiles, but it's a sad and tired expression, and shakes her head, gaze sliding away from his. ]
They took everything away from me. They took my will, my memories, my powers. The things they made me do... god, I remember all of it. Unarmed people, men and women and children- I slaughtered them. All because they refused to give the Order their goddamned precious tithe.
'Heathens', I thought. 'They must pay.' And I made them pay the ultimate price. I can still see their faces when I close my eyes.
I'm so... scared. What if they get in my head again? What if I turn on you?
I thought that if I could do this, if things were normal again, then I'd beat them. They wouldn't have any hold over me anymore. But I can't. I can barely use my powers, and the nightmares keep me awake. All those people... sometimes it's you, caught in my phaselock, looking on helplessly as I pull the trigger.
I don't know what to do, Peter. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life.
[ Silence stretches for a long while (too long, you idiot), and Peter has no idea what to say. All he knows is that he's entirely out of his depth here. He doesn't know what it's like to be made into a tool, doesn't know what it's like to have his freedom stripped from him. Even during his early days on the Eclector, the Ravagers had given him the liberty to roam the ship, let him ask questions and even help out if he asked nicely enough.
He worries that anything he says now will tip the scales too far to one side, make Maya clam up after this confession, and he doesn't want to lose her -- not to a group of religious fuckwits with a death wish, and not to the fear that seems to be building up inside her.
So when he speaks next, it's obvious that he's choosing his words with deliberate care. ]
None of that was you, Maya. You have to know that. The only ones to blame here are those dipshits at the abbey, and we took care of them. [ And here his expression darkens, and in moments like these it's little wonder that most of his life was spent among criminals. Clearly, thinking about the Brothers who did this to Maya has dredged up that Peter, the one who fought and threatened and killed his way back to her. ] We sent them a message that they won't forget. They won't try this again, if they know what's good for them.
And if they're stupid enough to give it another shot? They're goin' through us, they're goin' through me. I can promise you that much. Me, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Rocket -- you've got a team of goddamn maniacs backing you, and we'll fight tooth and fucking nail to keep you safe.
[ He takes a breath, and finally his expression softens, and his shoulders drop. ] You'll get control of your powers again. You'll get control of your nightmares, too, but I can't promise they'll ever go away. You just need to give it time.
[ Peter has never been great at inspirational speeches, at least not in the time that she's known him. But this? There's honesty there, and something dark and raw and angry and real. It's anchoring, reassuring.
It brings her peace. Not much, but enough. A sliver of light through the clouds, and her smile may be just as tired as it was before, but this time there's something sweet and almost hopeful about it. ]
I have to wonder sometimes what I did to deserve you.
[ His smile is small, but no less genuine. ] Pretty sure I should be the one askin' that, actually.
You'll get through this. I'll be with you every step of the way -- as long as you need me, and probably even when you don't.
[ He looks thoughtful for a second, then he puts his hands to her cheeks, slides them back a little to gently cup her ears. He presses his forehead to hers -- one second, two seconds -- before pulling back.
Yondu taught him this when he was young, had done it to him. One of the other Ravagers had taken his Walkman, and Peter had thrown himself at him, bit and scratched and screamed and kicked like a wild animal until the pirate in question had easily knocked him down and left him with a split lip. Only Yondu's intervention had spared them both from another round.
You know what it means when I do this, boy? They were in Yondu's quarters, Peter sat on his lap trying desperately not to cry from stress and relief in front of the captain. When Peter shook his head, clutching the tape player to his chest, Yondu told him, It's a Centaurian gesture. Means "I promise" or "I swear to you." When someone does that to you, means he's made you a solemn vow. So now you know when I say this ain't gonna happen again, when I say I'm makin' sure ain't no one takin' that player from you, I mean it. You hear me?
And for Peter, the gesture made sense. He can stumble over words, he can lie through his teeth; he can bend truths and offer conciliatory remarks and make speeches all he wants -- but he's always let his actions speak for him. Just like his mom taught him, just like Yondu taught him, in the captain's weird way. ]
Whatever you want, whatever you need, it's yours, okay?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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They kinda look like dragons.
Any trick to this, or just wait for them to go "Boo!" and shoot like crazy?
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[ The interesting think about the digistruct network is that one can keep just about anything in their pocket, as evidenced by Maya, who scrolls through the items in her "backpack" with the push of a few buttons and pulls a sniper rifle out of thin air. Maya has a preference for Maliwan ordinance, it seems, because it's a Maliwan-brand sniper, with glowing blue lights on it. ]
But I don't mind thinning the crowd a little first.
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Oh, Maya, it does such things to me when you start threatening to kill stuff.
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Get ready.
[ The crack of the sniper rifle is deafening in the quiet of the preserve. The stalker goes down, convulsing as electricity courses through it from the bullet in its head.
The other stalkers immediately poof out of sight in a panic. The second one poofs back in, she targets it and lets off another shot. A few of the creatures have gotten wise to where the gunfire is coming from and start making their way up the hill. ]
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Despite both their efforts to keep up the same flirtatious rapport from before the kidnapping, Peter feels like something is still a bit off, something prickling just beneath the surface like a splinter. He hopes that falling more and more back into their old routine will eventually start helping.
He surges forward to create a buffer between the stalkers and Maya, knowing she'll need the breathing space to properly snipe. When one of the creatures comes back into view, he fires off a few bolts of electricity from his blasters, hoping to redirect their attention onto him. He thinks it works, but it's hard to tell considering they've popped out of view again. ]
Hey, what if I tamed one of these and kept it as a pet? Thoughts?
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Sir Hammerlock had an ex-boyfriend that tried to keep a pet stalker once.
[ blam goes the sniper rifle ]
It ate him.
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-- So I'm guessing that's a no to that idea.
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Doing okay?
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-- Doing just fine. Any idea how many are left?
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[ Turns out one of the stalkers decided to jump its way up the sheer side of their little hill, and takes Maya by surprise when it appears right next to her. She puts it in a phaselock on instinct. She anticipated the slow trickle of blood from one nostril, but not the sharp, sudden pain in her head. She visibly winces and shrinks back a step, but keeps her faculties about her long enough to draw her precious little Maggie (why would someone keep that gun locked up in a vault somewhere, really) and shoot the stalker point blank in the face. That little gun hits like a hammer and the stalker drops.
Maya presses the back of her hand to her nose and deliberately does not look at Peter. That could've gone better. ]
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A stalker reappears to his left which he quickly dispatches, then runs back up the hill to where Maya had hunkered down. He doesn't miss her wince, doesn't miss the blood, and he definitely doesn't miss the way she avoids his gaze. ]
What happened? [ His worry makes his words come out a little sharper than he intended. ]
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[ with the way her hand is pressed to her nose, it comes out sounding more like "I'mb find", which is totally dignified and confident. ]
Bastard got the jump on me, is all. [ please don't worry about me, please don't worry about me ]
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[ He frowns as his gaze wanders over her face, and he really wishes she would just look at him -- just a glance or a smile or something to reassure him, no matter how small. He's barely taken a breath before he comes to a decision; his voice doesn’t soften. ]
Look, this was a bad idea. We're heading back.
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[ She does look at him then, and for a moment her expression is caught somewhere between angry and scared and hurt. Finally she settles on anger and fixes him with a glare. ] You want to go? Go ahead. I'm staying to finish this.
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Like hell I'm letting you stay here and migraine yourself to death.
[ When he grabs her hand -- the one currently not carrying a sniper rifle, thanks very much -- his grip is firm but not ungentle, and he starts marching back toward the Fast Travel. ]
We are going back to the ship, and you are gonna get some rest.
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[ That last word is full of such venom, such raw hurt, she she shocks even herself. God, what was she doing? She's not mad at Peter. She's mad at her own inability to move past this, her lack of strength and foresight that got her into this situation to begin with. She's mad at how scared she is.
It's over, the Order paid their price, she has her memories back, so why isn't everything okay again?
As quickly as it came, the anger just drains out of her. She sinks slowly to her knees, face buried in her hands ] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
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For a long moment he's shocked into silence after she sinks to the ground, and he just stands there staring at her. He doesn't know what to do -- of course he doesn't know what to do except upset her, he can't even protect her, and why is he so goddamn useless all the time? -- and he's frozen to the spot.
Then all at once he takes action: he kneels in front of her and gathers her into his arms, resting his cheek against the top of her head. It's awkward, he'll admit, with the way her hands cover her face and the way their knees bump together a little, but it's better than gawking. ]
Please, don't-- It's okay-- [ And it comes out as barely more than a whisper, because he's so damn worried and scared for her. ] Don't-- I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to upset you. It'll be alright, okay? I'm sorry.
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What's this really about? What are you sorry for?
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I'm sorry that I can't beat this. I'm sorry I'm not stronger.
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[ He pulls back to look at her, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
He speaks sternly and in earnest: ] Hey, you've got nothing to apologize for, okay? Nothing. You've been amazing about this whole fucked-up thing, as far as I'm concerned, but no one's gonna fault you if you need a hand with-- with dealing with this.
[ It seems he's lost most of his steam at this point, if the pause is anything to go by, but then he puts a hand beneath her chin to gently tilt her face to him. ]
Just tell me what you want or what you need me to do, and consider it done, alright?
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They took everything away from me. They took my will, my memories, my powers. The things they made me do... god, I remember all of it. Unarmed people, men and women and children- I slaughtered them. All because they refused to give the Order their goddamned precious tithe.
'Heathens', I thought. 'They must pay.' And I made them pay the ultimate price. I can still see their faces when I close my eyes.
I'm so... scared. What if they get in my head again? What if I turn on you?
I thought that if I could do this, if things were normal again, then I'd beat them. They wouldn't have any hold over me anymore. But I can't. I can barely use my powers, and the nightmares keep me awake. All those people... sometimes it's you, caught in my phaselock, looking on helplessly as I pull the trigger.
I don't know what to do, Peter. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life.
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He worries that anything he says now will tip the scales too far to one side, make Maya clam up after this confession, and he doesn't want to lose her -- not to a group of religious fuckwits with a death wish, and not to the fear that seems to be building up inside her.
So when he speaks next, it's obvious that he's choosing his words with deliberate care. ]
None of that was you, Maya. You have to know that. The only ones to blame here are those dipshits at the abbey, and we took care of them. [ And here his expression darkens, and in moments like these it's little wonder that most of his life was spent among criminals. Clearly, thinking about the Brothers who did this to Maya has dredged up that Peter, the one who fought and threatened and killed his way back to her. ] We sent them a message that they won't forget. They won't try this again, if they know what's good for them.
And if they're stupid enough to give it another shot? They're goin' through us, they're goin' through me. I can promise you that much. Me, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Rocket -- you've got a team of goddamn maniacs backing you, and we'll fight tooth and fucking nail to keep you safe.
[ He takes a breath, and finally his expression softens, and his shoulders drop. ] You'll get control of your powers again. You'll get control of your nightmares, too, but I can't promise they'll ever go away. You just need to give it time.
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It brings her peace. Not much, but enough. A sliver of light through the clouds, and her smile may be just as tired as it was before, but this time there's something sweet and almost hopeful about it. ]
I have to wonder sometimes what I did to deserve you.
... Thank you.
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You'll get through this. I'll be with you every step of the way -- as long as you need me, and probably even when you don't.
[ He looks thoughtful for a second, then he puts his hands to her cheeks, slides them back a little to gently cup her ears. He presses his forehead to hers -- one second, two seconds -- before pulling back.
Yondu taught him this when he was young, had done it to him. One of the other Ravagers had taken his Walkman, and Peter had thrown himself at him, bit and scratched and screamed and kicked like a wild animal until the pirate in question had easily knocked him down and left him with a split lip. Only Yondu's intervention had spared them both from another round.
You know what it means when I do this, boy? They were in Yondu's quarters, Peter sat on his lap trying desperately not to cry from stress and relief in front of the captain. When Peter shook his head, clutching the tape player to his chest, Yondu told him, It's a Centaurian gesture. Means "I promise" or "I swear to you." When someone does that to you, means he's made you a solemn vow. So now you know when I say this ain't gonna happen again, when I say I'm makin' sure ain't no one takin' that player from you, I mean it. You hear me?
And for Peter, the gesture made sense. He can stumble over words, he can lie through his teeth; he can bend truths and offer conciliatory remarks and make speeches all he wants -- but he's always let his actions speak for him. Just like his mom taught him, just like Yondu taught him, in the captain's weird way. ]
Whatever you want, whatever you need, it's yours, okay?
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