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 Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:24 pm
Mid-September 2016
Hospitals sucked; everyone knew that. It was just a matter of learning the ins and outs that made it so much better. Like what flavor gelatin wasn't as bad as the others, or what was and wasn't available to use from supply closets. Normally some sad, pathetic looks was enough for the nurses to cave into doing a number of things. Sometimes it didn't work, but that only meant needing to learn which nurses were soft for kids.
Peter had been in and out of the hospital more times than he probably should have been, but with the apparent terrorist presence in the city, more and more kids were being pulled into fights and ended up getting hurt and needed to go to the hospital.
Like now, except instead of Peter, it was Michael and Caspian. They'd been lucky enough to get there in time to save Caspian's life, and lucky to stop the fight between him and the negaverse officers so that Michael was saved too, but there was still time needed before the two of them recovered.
He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Caspian, but Michael apparently liked him, so he supposed he couldn't be all that bad. They were hanging out more and more, and he still eyed Caspian suspiciously every so often after he'd caught him and Michael making out. Ew. He still thought they were getting in over their heads, but in the end they were the "adults."
Carrying a couple blankets with him, Peter made his way back into the room where he'd just left after dropping off a bag of clothes and toiletries for Michael and Caspian. They'd both been sleeping; Caspian on the bed and Michael curled up on the couch, but the room was freezing and it didn't look like either of them were all that comfortable.
Peter grumbled to himself about how nice he was as he went over to throw a blanket over his brother and then approached Caspian's bed so he could spread out the blanket, although it was a bit more difficult with all the cords and things. Even though it had been a couple days since arriving there, he still needed to be monitored.—————— For the most part, Caspian had done a lot of attempts at sleeping while in the hospital so far. The medication made him almost unbearably sluggish and sleepy all the time, and he kept dozing on and off, only to be woken every two hours by a nurse to check his vitals. It was, needless to say, enough to make him feel woozy and irritable - though Michael's presence and Olga's continued sneaking in of cheeseburgers and fries did definitely help. Even Peter had pulled his fair share at keeping Caspian occupied, though Caspian still wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Peter for a variety of reasons.
He was dozing now, in fits and spells, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. Caspian shifted, turned to try and find a more comfortable sleeping position, and wound up awake, disgruntled, uncomfortable, and cold.
And to find Peter standing beside the bed, looking just as annoyed as Caspian felt - except that he had a blanket in his hands and was currently spreading it over Caspian's bed.
He frowned.
"What are you doing?" Caspian asked, slightly suspiciously, because, well, this was Peter.—————— Well, he wasn’t trying to wake Caspian up, but it seemed as though he was having a rough time trying to sleep as it was. Peter frowned, freezing in place for only a moment, before going back to spreading the blanket out over top of Caspian as he lied on the bed.
“I’m baking a pie. What do you think I’m doing?” he asked incredulously, shaking his head in exasperation. He didn’t appreciate the suspicious looks, especially when he wasn’t the one doing anything suspicious. He was just being nice. And being grumpy about being nice.
“They hide the good blankets,” he explained, patting the blanket once it was stretched out to the best of his abilities. “You just gotta know where to look. Lots of practice and experience to get away with it, though.”
Peter placed his hands on his hips, looking over his handiwork, and then glancing back up at Caspian, his pleased expression turning into something of a scowl, although nowhere near as menacing as his oldest brother’s could get. If anything, it was more like an annoyed pout.
“I bet you feel like s**t,” he observed, eyeing the bandages that he could see. Caspian’s arm had been wrapped from the palm down, and his neck was bandaged, too. He and Olga had only shown up near the end, but he still saw the slice Caspian took from the General with curly hair with his bare hand. —————— "Oh, good," said Caspian. "I'd like a cherry one, please. Or a cheesecake, does that count as a pie?"
He did appreciate the blanket, however, Caspian glancing down at it, his legs feeling nicely warmer already. "You sound like you have too much experience with these sorts of things," he pointed out, wincing a little as he shifted positions again, still unable to get comfortable. It seemed impossible in this creaking bed, however, and he gave up after a few attempts, Caspian relaxing back into the pillows.
His eyes flickered momentarily to Michael, gaze softening, then back to Peter, Caspian reaching out a hand and fumbling with his bedside table to find his bottle of water.
"Yes, thank you," he grumbled, stretching out the fingers of his good hand and tugging the water over to him. "Actually, I feel great. Could probably run a mile or two like this, kick some serious a** if I got up and out of this bed. Any takers?" Caspian added innocently, grinning over at Peter.—————— “Cheesecake does not count as a pie. Oh my god, it has the word cake right in the name,” Peter breathed in exasperation and shook his head. “I told you I’ve been doing this since I was ten, so yeah,” he frowned, pulling his arms from resting against his hips to place over his chest. “I’ve been kicked, punched, thrown, clawed, cut… not quite as bad as you. I’ve never come close to actually dying before,” he admitted with a grimace.
He watched Caspian as he tried to adjust himself on the bed, trying to get comfortable, but also noticing the glance over to where Michael was sleeping on the couch behind him. Peter’s lips pursed slightly, his eyes narrowing. “What were you even doing all the way out there?” he pried as Caspian took a drink of his water.
Naturally, he expected the question to be turned back to him, so he offered the answer. “Olga was helping me look for youma. It’s easier to track them while powered, and then observe them while civilians. We caught sense of your aura while we were trying to chase after a youma,” he said after carefully glancing around the corner towards the door to make sure they were still alone, his voice lowered just slightly.
“And yeah, I’d love to take on another super senshi. We can go outside right now,” he offered with a disbelieving huff. “I’m taller than you, anyway.” —————— "Yes, but it doesn't taste like a cake," Caspian pointed out. "It's like it's in its own category altogether, of the very delicious variety."
He did not want to think about how close he'd come to dying. Or Michael dying, Caspian wondering exactly how many times Peter had wound up where he was right now. There was something aggravating about the fact that Peter was more used to things than Caspian was; that his experience was far and wide, with years of knowledge behind it, whereas Caspian was just fumbling his way through the basics of what he knew. Michael continually made sure to keep him informed and educated, but actually seeing things and experiencing them was a vastly different story.
He almost didn't hear Peter's question, Caspian lost in thought, fingers curled in the blanket on his legs.
"Huh? Oh."
His gaze flickered to Michael once more, then to Peter, the lightest touch of pink on his face; but Caspian responded calmly, his voice level and light as he said, "If you must know, we were on a date."
Sort of. For all of five minutes before they'd been interrupted. And Caspian was not about to say that he had planned the boxcar for a number of reasons, only part of which had to do with it being an actual date.
Good enough.
He set the water back on the table, wincing a little as he moved, Caspian sighing. Determinedly ignoring the comment about his height, he said, "Well, I'm glad you and the admiral made an appearance, things were getting pretty damn shitty there at the end."
His eyes, as though drawn by a magnet, went back to Michael sleeping form, Caspian's expression constricted, almost a little painful.
"I think we owe you and Olga one."
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:27 pm
Peter's stared, still exasperated, at Caspian and then looked over his shoulder to where Michael was still asleep on the couch. "A date?" he repeated with a frown, "In an abandoned train station?" He shook his head but eventually shrugged. Whatever worked, he supposed.
"Well, it's not like I've ever been on a date, so..." he said with a stretch, arms over his head, still eyeing Caspian curiously and somewhat suspiciously. "So you and Michael, huh? Could have told you that one," he mumbled with a sigh. But Michael seemed happy, he supposed. Better than being miserable and closed off to everyone.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell you when we want to cash in on that. Just get better so we can go home," he requested, looking over his handiwork with the blanket and taking a step back. He noticed the glance in Michael's direction, but didn't say anything about it right then.
Besides, it wasn't as though he and Caspian were friends. He was sure Caspian didn't want to talk to him after everything he's said and asked.
"Thanks, though. For not walking away when you could have," he mumbled awkwardly. "If your magic didn't slow down that lieutenant, I wouldn't have been able to land my kick and..." And she would have escaped with Michael's starseed.—————— Caspian deliberately ignored Peter’s astounded stare. “Yes,” he said, with as much dignity as one could muster when one was lying in a hospital bed and talking to the little brother of one’s boyfriend. “A date in an abandoned train station.”
So. You and Michael, huh?
For some reason, this made his cheeks flush, Caspian looking stubbornly away. “Yes,” he said, almost testily, but not quite, a slight edge to his hoarse voice. “Me and Michael. Michael and me.”
Together. Dating. Still as head over heels for each other as he hoped they would be when they returned back home, but there was no telling how things would go once they left the hospital.
Caspian toyed with the hem of the blanket Peter had given him, still glancing somewhat absently in Michael’s direction.
“I don’t like being weak,” he said, after a moment. “I hate it. I hate that I couldn’t do more for him.”—————— Peter lowered his arms back down after popping one of his shoulders and giving up on the other, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. He wasn’t sure what he’d said to make Caspian look embarrassed as he did, and he frowned curiously at him, but once again decided to not mention anything about it.
“Who does?” he shrugged, glancing away for a few moments, but crossed one foot in front of the other to turn himself around, and leaned back against the bed after first checking to make sure that it wouldn’t budge if he put his weight on it. He didn’t look at anything in particular, just stared down at his worn sneakers.
“I mean, I’m sure some people like to exploit being weak, but people don’t generally say they enjoy it,” he said, although he had to wonder if Caspian would rather he leave him alone. “You almost died… That doesn’t make you weak, you know. Wanting to risk your life for someone.”
But he knew what Caspian meant. Being told there was nothing he could do because he was too young, or being treated like a liability than an asset. It was difficult, and overwhelming. And heartbreaking. Especially when all he wanted to do was something.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It could have been worse… even if we couldn’t save him, as long as he had the starseed in tact, it could be reborn…” It was weird, saying that when it was his brother, but it was true. —————— The bed, fortunately, was locked in place by the wheel mechanisms, which meant that Peter’s weight didn’t budge it. Caspian had managed to pull his gaze away from Michael and was now looking at Peter, his expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness, fingers still absently tugging on stray threads of the blanket.
“Doesn’t it?” he asked, not really stubbornly, but more just wanting to know what Peter thought. “Isn’t the definition of weakness not being able to do what it is you need to? I couldn’t...if you and Sedna hadn’t come along, Michael and I would both have been shot to hell.”
He did not want to think about what would have happened without them. It was too painful an alternative. Caspian gave a small laugh that stuck in his throat and wasn’t really humorous.
“Reborn,” he mumbled. “I don’t want…”
But he trailed off, Caspian shaking his head. His eyes flickered across Peter’s face, which, oddly enough, looked simultaneously young and old to him.
“Does it bother you?” he asked. “Me being with Michael, I mean. Does it bother you?”
Considering he was closer in age to Peter than with Michael, it wouldn’t have surprised him, though Caspian was startled at how much Peter’s answer to the question mattered to him.—————— Peter shrugged again, using the toe of his shoe to scrape at one of the scuff marks on the floor. “Depends. Is that your definition of weakness?” he asked back, although he kept his head down. “I mean, yeah, if we’re talking strictly Merriam-Webster, or if you’re talking about not having enough power to physically do something… you’ll never have enough power to really do anything. And if you did, there would be other limitations to that power, like the decision to use that power for the greater good, or for yourself.”
He shifted awkwardly, feeling weird talking about something like this with Caspian, especially when he was pretty sure this guy was too stubborn to really change his mind on things once he settles on something. Not that he knew him very well, but from what he’d experienced so far. Caspian hadn’t seemed to take Peter’s warning about Michael to heart.
“Weakness could also be a strength… and what I saw was strength. You didn’t give up, even though you probably knew you’d die. Maybe you thought it would be better that way? If you couldn’t win, then you would just die, too?”
Of course, the next question had him glancing up, his brows furrowed in curiosity at Caspian. “Why would it bother me?” he asked, as if that question had come from somewhere out in left field and he hadn’t been paying attention.
“I mean, you’re both happy, right? You know he never visited me in the hospital,” he added suddenly, jerking his head in Michael’s direction. “Or Chris. Or anyone that I know.” Sure, Michael had dropped him off and called either Chris or their parents to get him, but he didn’t stay for long, if at all. —————— He wasn’t entirely sure what his definition of weakness was anymore. Was it this feeling? This sense of utter inability to be able to save the one person that Caspian was relatively sure he no longer wanted to live without? Or was it something else; a nagging, gnawing feeling inside of him that kept reminding him that if Sedna and Peter (he’d forgotten his senshi name already) weren’t there, then Michael would have been dead?
He didn’t know anymore.
“No,” said Caspian, fingers curling a little more tightly around a stray thread. “I would have ******** fought until I had him back. Somehow. I would have kept fighting.”
He didn’t think of the conversation as strange, only as frustrating. Peter was only five years younger than he was, and yet had been in this damned war for so much longer. He knew more than Caspian did, had been through more than Caspian - so why, why was it that Caspian could not do what Peter did? Why could he not see things or feel things or understand things as well as a fifteen year old could?
In the smallest, darkest part of Caspian’s heart, there was a twinge of unexpected, shameful envy - not because Peter had been through more, but because Peter was more level-headed and less reckless than he was.
Peter knew how to handle things. Caspian did not.
Caspian’s gaze had slid to rest on Michael again, Peter’s answer ringing in his head.
“Because I’m in love with him,” he said quietly, “And I’m also ten years younger than him. And a guy.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:32 pm
He drew in a breath and held it there for a few long moments, and then let it out through his nose, shaking his head lightly at Caspian’s desperate, almost irrational response on what he would have done. That, if anything, would be Caspian’s weakness; not knowing when to back down. Or maybe it was his strength, even Peter wasn’t sure.
There were things worse than death.
But Peter kept his mouth shut, knowing that nothing he could say would get Caspian to change his mind on the subject. If he was going to fight, then he was going to fight. Probably get killed, but if Peter’s assumption was right, maybe that would be the better alternative to staying alive while Michael died.
Or maybe he was completely wrong. Either way, he couldn’t help but worry about both Caspian and Michael and what might end up happening that could completely break the other.
Peter stared at Caspian, his expression incredulous. “You’re in love with him??” he practically sputtered, looking from Caspian and then to Michael and then back, stepping away from the bed so he could turn more fully around. “What the hell? How long have you even known each other? How can you possibly be in love?”
It made no sense to him, but then again, he’d never been in love with another person before.
He continued to stare at the other two points, and he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something on the topic, but then closed it and shook his head. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into? Or anything about our family? Does he know anything about yours?” he asked, gesturing to Michael.
Oh boy… maybe they’d both gone crazy… —————— He remembered Michael, telling him that he was too reckless, too stubborn; that one day he’d make a mess of things if he wasn’t careful. And he remembered the forceful, bruising kiss of the General-Queen just before she died - a mockery, a taunt, a reminder that he wasn’t nearly as smart or as capable as he thought he was, no matter how far he pushed boundaries to try and see how far he could go without breaking them.
When does stubbornness turn into stupidity?
When does weakness turn into strength?
He couldn’t quite tell anymore.
Peter’s outburst was not about the general nature of their relationship and more about the intensity of it, which Caspian had expected. He didn’t flinch at Peter’s flummoxed stare, nor at the way he was sputtering, Caspian’s eyes sliding silently from Michael’s sleeping form over to Peter’s outraged one.
“A tricky question,” he answered - truthfully. “We first met...let’s see…” He tried to count, even if thinking was hard, his head fuzzy from the medication. “Eight months ago? Maybe a little less. Seven and a half, at the beginning of the year. I assume you were there as well, during that invasion into Negaspace. Obviously I just knew him as Sessrumnir then. I met him again as Michael a little while later, maybe a month or two. It took a bit of random chance, but I figured out who he was not too long after. So...seven and a half months if you want the actual number, and…” Caspian waved a hand. “Too much math. Something in between all of that for everything else.”
In retrospect, it was longer than he’d actually thought, Caspian’s fingers sliding along the blanket again; an absent, restless gesture.
“Does it make a difference if it’s only been a few months?” he asked, and the question wasn’t necessarily directed at Peter, Caspian’s voice quiet. “Is there a certain time two people have to be together to know that they’re in love? A quota to be reached or something?”
It was a rhetorical question, really, Caspian’s gaze flickering across Michael’s face. Truth be told, falling in love with Michael seemed inevitable, even if he hadn’t realized it for a while. What hadn’t been expected was for Michael to feel the same, something that still felt like an impossibility.
Caspian gave a little shrug of one shoulder, wincing a little at the movement. “My mom’s been divorced since my twin sister and I were three,” he said. “Don’t really know or care about who my dad is. There’s not much to tell about my family, really.”
Michael’s, though...Caspian knew was a different story. He couldn’t deny that he knew very little about the Gallos and their extended family, whoever Chris’s wife was. Caspian leaned back into his pillows, exhaling a long breath.
“I told you I wasn’t backing down,” he said, leveling a look at Peter. “Admittedly, back then, I meant as a friend. Or maybe I didn’t, I don’t know anymore. I just know how things are now.”—————— All Peter could do was stare at Caspian as he explained how long he and Michael had known each other. He opened his mouth when the invasion of Negaspace was mentioned, and then closed it again, a frown appearing that could have very well aged him a good ten years.
Eight months, or a little less, was not a long time at all. Of course, Caspian was right in that there wasn’t really a quota to be reached before falling in love. And people did stupid things when they were under the stress of almost dying. Like getting married and having kids, like his other brother. At least he assumed that was why it all happened so fast.
“I’m not saying you should back down,” Peter shook his head, not thinking that Caspian, or even Michael, realize how it was a little difficult to believe when neither of them have really even met each other’s family. It was as though they were enamored with the idea of being together (maybe) but not the commitment of everything that came with it.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Either of you,” he added with a glance over at his brother still sleeping on the couch. “I think you’re a good guy, Caspian,” Peter said with a shake of his head, shifting to lean back against the bed once more.
“Not many people would take on General crazy and his friend like that. But even if you’d saved Michael’s starseed on your own, you would have died if Olga and I weren’t there to help. Would you have been okay with that? And if you would have been, don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical and unfair?”
Or maybe Peter was too young to understand, as he’d been told countless times before.
“Yeah, I was at the invasion… my group found a bunch of hoarded starseeds to return to the cauldron. Those will be reborn, instead of fading into nothing. My friend was almost corrupted and lost her memories, like my Chris. His wife hasn’t been able to power up much since then, if at all. Too much energy. The cost of too much power and trying to use it,” he mumbled, but eventually shook his head, as though to brush off the thoughts and memories that were difficult to sort through, knowing things could have been a lot worse, but were still pretty bad. —————— Peter was old for his years, and yet still young in some ways; a contradicting confusion of both that somehow worked for him, in spite of all of it. Caspian’s gaze kept flickering between the two brothers, as though trying to understand the differences between the two of them, as well as the similarities. All three of them looked like one another, and yet there were chasms drawn between each one; lines in the sand, walls built, most notably around Michael.
The oldest, and yet he most broken all at once.
Caspian let out a long breath that hurt both his throat and his chest, but he ignored the pains and said, with a soft voice, “I can’t back down.”
He was secretly pleased that Peter thought him a good guy, the unexpected warmth in his chest a nice surprise. Caspian couldn’t say he didn’t understand where he was coming from; but ”You would have died if Olga and I weren’t there to help” hurt more than words could have explained. An icy shard in his chest, so that breathing was suddenly more painful than it should have been, Caspian’s eyes tracing the worn lines of Michael’s sleeping face as Peter spoke of all that had happened during the invasion - things that Caspian had not been a part of, had not seen.
I know how this ends, he’d told Michael on their first meeting.
A laugh escaped Caspian, watery, because he hatefully couldn’t stop the reddening of his eyes, though no tears fell. It was embarrassing, to be emotional around Peter, but Caspian had always been more emotional than he’d preferred, only locking it up so that he would never be seen. So that people like the ones he had known in middle and high school wouldn’t point and laugh, as they always had.
I know how this ends.
“I...can’t help it,” he whispered. “Any of it. What the hell am I supposed to do?”—————— He doubted that Caspian would ever back down of his own accord. He was too reckless it seemed. Too stubborn to do anything but give it his all. Even if it ended up landing him in the hospital. Even if it ended up killing him.
Peter glanced over to him, eyeing him curiously, his expression shifting into a startled grimace when he realized that Caspian seemed to be getting emotional. Oh boy. Not that he blamed him. He was heavily medicated, almost died, almost watched Michael die, because even though his body might have still been alive, there was no point without his starseed.
And yet, Peter could see the determination there, even if Caspian didn’t see it, himself. He could see how much Caspian was struggling, whether it had to do with the war, or what he would do if he had lost Michael.
“You fight.” Peter responded simply, his expression shifting back into something more settled, more sympathetic although still a bit wary if only because he didn’t know Caspian very well. “That’s all any of us can do. Either you fight or you don’t, but I have a feeling that you’ll fight. I’m fighting. Michael’s fighting. Chris and Paris are fighting,” he explained, trying not to sound like he was talking down to Caspian or anything like that. Just because he didn’t know what to do, or know that he can’t back down, that wasn’t his fault. It was just what he had to do.
What all of them had to do.
“Just… try not to get killed…” he requested, glancing back over to Michael with a frown, hoping that all of this wouldn’t blow up in their faces. —————— You fight.
It was too easy an answer. Caspian bit back a bitter laugh that threatened his throat, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to prevent himself from saying or doing anything stupid. His hands curled in the blanket that Peter had given him, held onto it as though needing to for support. His head was spinning; a combination of too many medications and too much emotion all at once, and for a few seconds, Caspian didn’t say anything at all, his expression almost steely, like he had to keep it that way to keep going.
Fighting, he thought. What use is that when I have no strength to do anything?
He couldn’t say that out loud - although something about what Peter had just said made a puzzle piece click into place - one that Caspian hadn’t really thought he even was wondering about.
“Ah,” he said, gaze flickering back to Peter, away from the rough stubble that lined Michael’s jaw. “I just remembered where I’ve seen Chris before.”
It made stupid sense, come to think of it. “He was there, on the moon. He powered down, with that blonde princess chick, the one that was at the meeting with that weird guy. That’s who they are.”
It seemed like a vague, far off memory now, Caspian shaking his head a little.
“You guys really do have your whole family in this, don’t you?”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:36 pm
Peter could see the way Caspian’s hands gripped tighter to the blanket, and he glanced up to see the odd expression on Caspian’s face, as though he wasn’t quite sure about everything Peter had said. And Peter didn’t expect him to agree with him. That was the whole point of trying to figure things out for himself.
But that didn’t mean he had to like Caspian’s expression, obviously emotional, but also looking like he was holding himself back. If he really did love Michael, then maybe one day Caspian would be able to trust Peter with his worries and concerns. Until then, if it ever happened, Peter was okay with giving Caspian some space and not pry.
“Yeah, well,” Peter mumbled, frowning at the thought of his other older brother. “It’s complicated. That’s why I asked if you knew what you were getting yourself into. Not everyone has the stomach for our family…”
Not that he was going to go into details if Caspian didn’t ask. Maybe he would prefer Michael to explain everything to him, but at least Caspian had a slightly better grasp now than he did before.
“Ganymede. That’s her name in case you were curious. You might like her… she also struggled with not having enough power to do anything. She’s been doing this longer than me or Michael or Chris…” he offered with a shrug, figuring they might meet eventually, or maybe not, who knew. —————— Caspian was not going to tell Peter that the only impression he had gotten of Ganymede was that of her annoyed, almost aggravated expression as he’d flung himself at the General-Queen. She clearly had not approved of his tactics, and maybe that was why Michael had kept pushing him away as well - because they had both assumed the same thing: that he was just a simple, basic senshi, that he didn’t know what he was doing, that he was just some idiot kid without a thought for what a real fight was.
It was far enough from the truth to be considered ludicrous now. Caspian shook his head; a tired, almost resigned movement.
“You can’t expect to ask someone if they know what they’re getting into without actually explaining things,” he said, with a slight twist of his lips up in a half-smile. “It’s like when you get into a fight with someone and you go ’if you don’t know, then I’m not going to tell you.’ Which, frankly, is kinda ******** up when you think about it.”
But Peter had done the best he could, Caspian knew this. He also knew that streaks of stubbornness apparently ran in the Gallo family, in different ways.
He closed his eyes momentarily, fighting the throbbing in his head, the ache in his chest.
Why does everyone assume that I’m not good enough for this? For any of this?
It was no wonder he kept having second thoughts about whether Michael’s feelings were actually genuine or if he was just going with the flow. Caspian opened his eyes again, resting them on Peter’s young face.
“Maybe we’ll fall apart,” he said with a shrug, the words tasting ashen on his tongue, bitter and sharp and unpleasant. “But until - unless - that happens, I’m not going anywhere.”—————— He grimaced when Caspian made a comment about not having things explained to him, figuring that was the case since he really didn’t seem to know much about their family. Which was fine. It wasn’t like their family was anything special, or better or worse than anyone else’s family. Just… awkward for new people. Thankfully Paris had been welcomed right in, and he was sure Caspian would be too… if Michael actually tried to have him meet them.
“Well, if you don’t know,” he said, knowing very well that he was repeating exactly what Caspian had just said. At least partially. “If you don’t know, then maybe it would be better if Michael told you. I mean, I could, but… you said before you’d rather it come from Michael, so…”
He didn’t think that was a bad thing, for them to talk about it, but he wondered how much Michael was going to disclose when even Peter knew how private he was about things in his life. Nevermind his expensive car and boat and motorcycle. Everything else was still pretty closed off, even to his own family.
“Maybe you will fall apart,” Peter shrugged right back, moving away from the bed so he could make himself comfortable in the chair next to it, pulling his still scrawny legs up onto it, not caring he was still wearing his shoes. “Maybe you won’t,” he continued, resting his head against the back of the chair, obviously not planning on going anywhere for a little while.
“But I’m glad you’ve stuck around this far. I know Michael is, too.”
He knew Caspian should be resting, so he wasn’t trying to get too invested in any further conversation, but he did at least want to talk to him, maybe learn more about him if he was so important to Michael.
“I know I’ve told you this before… about how Michael used to smile a lot more until a few years ago?” he cautiously probed, his voice a little guilty. “I think that was a lie… him smiling. They weren’t real… I just didn’t know because I didn’t realize I’d never seen him actually smile until now. So… thanks… I guess…” And hopefully he didn’t just make things awkward.—————— ”I do want Michael to tell me things,” Caspian muttered, glancing over at him. “But trying to get him to talk about the things that matter - well, most of them - is like prying teeth. He’s incredibly closed off, which I’m sure you already know. He doesn’t just...talk. I’ve tried to get him to tell me about things, and I figure he will when he’s ready, but…”
He trailed off, Caspian giving a small shake of his head. When you’re ready, he had told Michael, but how long would that take? A relationship was two people working together, not one trying to do everything on their own.
He pushed that - and Peter’s comments about maybe falling apart - aside, Caspian turning his head to look at him. He was mildly surprised to hear that Peter was glad he’d stuck around, the ache in his chest somewhat subsided by a more pleasing warmth that felt better. He still had no intention of going anywhere, not when he couldn’t even imagine disentangling himself from this thing he was starting with Michael.
Peter’s slightly guilty tone of voice made the ghost of a smile flicker across Caspian’s tired face.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly. “If it helps at all, that’s all I wanted from the start. Even before...well, even when I first met him, I thought it’d be nice to see him smile more.”—————— ”Or herding cats,” Peter nodded in grave agreement at the mutterings of Michael actually talking about things. “It took me forever to get him to admit that he had drugs in the house. He kept changing the subject and making it about how he didn’t want me fighting and how I could get hurt or killed,” he admitted, paused, and then grimaced and then shook his head. “Not any more! He used them already. Ah. Not on himself…” Okay, weird conversation…
“Uh… you can either ignore that, or add that to your list of things to talk about,” he suggested, sounding a little panicked about bringing up something Michael probably would not appreciate him doing. Oh well, it was probably something Caspian should know if he was going to be serious about being in a relationship with Michael.
The smile was encouraging, and Peter was at least somewhat relieved that Caspian wasn’t too upset with him, although he wondered how much he was wearing Caspian out by now.
“Well, you’re probably the only one who’s been able to accomplish getting him to smile. So, I guess you’re doing okay,” he added, shifting a little in a way that seemed like another shrug, not entirely sure how to have a conversation with Caspian when he was sure Caspian only looked at him as Michael’s kid brother. They weren’t friends. Just happened to talk about Michael and powered things.
“If you…” he started, and then paused, glancing away and up at the ceiling as he wondered exactly what he was trying to say. “I mean, I know you probably go and patrol with Michael, but… you know, if he’s busy and you wanted to… I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind patrolling with another super senshi… Olga’s great, but…” he made a face. She could be… quite eccentric and didn’t know if he could handle all that on his own. —————— It took Caspian a moment to understand the herding cats comment, and therefore the meaning of what Peter had just said was somewhat delayed in sinking in.
“He what?”
His head snapped around, which made his neck give a protesting throb, Caspian staring at Peter with a wide-eyed, startled expression on his face that turned almost mutinous a second later. This was the first he had heard of it - which wasn’t surprising, but -
“Michael was doing drugs?” Caspian snapped, not quite able to conceal the surge of anger he felt at this. “That - “
His anger was misdirected, not meant at Peter at all. Caspian swallowed it back, turning his head sharply to look at Michael’s sleeping form, lips pressing together. He hadn’t known - but really, was it such a far leap to assume that Michael had done some terrible things while on his own? Not particularly, Caspian thought now, teeth gritting together. Michael’s mysterious history and whatever tragic things that had happened in his past were buried deep; if they had been terrible enough to make him throw continuous walls up whenever other people were around, that meant they had to be terrible enough for him to resort to other things as well.
Ways of forgetting. Except why had Peter said they weren’t used on himself..?
Caspian tried to drop it, turning instead back to Peter, focusing on what he was being told.
Or rather - asked, it seemed.
Something warm expanded in Caspian’s chest at the tentative offer, spreading out so that he felt it tingling through his veins. He bit his lip, trying to fight the stupid smile that was threatening, but he couldn’t quite help it, because while Peter was obnoxious and too strong minded sometimes, he was also genuinely just a good kid.
A good kid that had saved his - and Michael’s - asses - without hesitation.
“Sure,” said Caspian, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll go patrolling with you anytime.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:38 pm
Oops, maybe he needed to work on keeping his mouth shut when it came to things like secrets he was probably supposed to be keeping. In his defense, his conversation with Michael about the mysterious drugs had turned out a lot better than the one that took place not too long ago when Michael freaked out and ran off for a weekend.
He winced at Caspian’s anger, lifting his hands to try and get him to calm down a little, and also glancing over to the couch where Michael stirred, but didn’t seem to be awake just yet. Yikes. He didn’t want to be in the room for that conversation.
Of course, Caspian agreeing to go patrolling with him came as a pleasant surprise, and Peter couldn’t help but grin, despite it being a bit awkward.
“Great! I mean, that sounds good,” he said, a bit relieved that he wasn’t turned down. It wasn’t as though he had many friends, even after years of doing this. There was Haven, but she was more of his rival than a friend. And the others he’d fought alongside in negaspace he hoped to get to know better, but until then there were very few people. And Olga. And she was great but even he could only handle her enthusiasm for a short time.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Peter added, settling back into his chair. “It’s not like it was…” he stopped and closed his mouth, grimacing at himself. He was going to say that at least it wasn’t meth but what it really was might actually be worse. Although since there are no signs of addiction or withdrawals, Peter was confident that Michael never actually used… just had… and used, but not for himself. Or something like that.
“I’ll let him explain,” he said instead, lifting a hand to wave at Caspian, as if to dismiss the topic. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping anyway? Sorry I woke you.” —————— He would have that conversation with Michael afterwards, Caspian knew. Being told that his boyfriend had had a drug problem - however it had gone down - was not exactly something he could sweep under the rug and forget about easily. But at least for now, while Michael was sleeping and he was talking to Peter, Caspian could set it aside for a later date.
Assuming he could actually get Michael to talk to him. Which was a whole other can of worms.
Plus there was something rather endearing about the grin on Peter’s face at Caspian’s agreement to go patrolling with him that warmed his heart. Maybe, in spite of everything, Peter was just as eager to find friends and meet new people as Caspian was, even if Caspian had gone about it the exact opposite way, keeping everyone deliberately away instead. He fought a smile, failed, and finally just let out a small sigh instead.
“I’ll figure it out with him,” he said, reclining back against the pillows. “And you didn’t really wake me, it’s hard to sleep in here, anyway.”
Caspian turned his head to look at Michael, then back at Peter again. There was silence for a moment, and then he said,
“Just so you know, I do think you’re pretty badass.”
A pause.
“But maybe it’s just the medicine talking.”—————— “Yeah, it really is. I hate those beds. And the gowns are the worst,” he said, making a face, but couldn’t quite make the grin dissipate. It wasn’t every day that someone agreed to go with him. He was usually on his own, despite being just a kid. It was super dangerous, but thankfully as a chibi he had speed on his side. Now, not so much, and his magic was still not offensive.
The compliment had his eyes widening in surprise, and he gaped at Caspian, his cheeks flushing red, which was totally stupid and unintentional and he had no idea why some stupid comment like that had him reacting in such a way.
And then there was the follow up comment, which sounded much more realistic, but also like a bucket of ice water had been poured on him. Of course he wasn’t badass, and he was stupid for believing for just a moment that anyone would think that of an annoying kid.
“Definitely the medicine talking,” Peter mumbled quickly lowering his eyes and drawing in a breath to let out slowly. As a kid who’d never really had any friends, most of his compliments came from his teachers or his parents. Usually it was more of him being obnoxious or too young or other things, so of course it would be the medicine talking, just as Caspian suggested.
“You were the one taking on the General… you’re obviously confusing me with yourself,” he pointed out, forcing a grin back onto his face, mentally shaking himself off. Maybe he shouldn’t stay there, because he didn’t want to bother Caspian and Michael once his brother woke up.
Carefully, Peter untangled himself from where he’d made himself comfortable in the chair, and stood to stretch. “Well… I’m probably going to see what’s in the cafeteria… want anything?” he asked, grinning down at his shoes as if making sure they were on correctly instead of at Caspian. It was okay, though. Caspian was going to go patrolling with him sometime. Even if he wasn’t a badass, at least they could try training. —————— ”I’m pretty sure everyone in this hospital has seen more of my a** than was ever necessary,” Caspian grumbled, picking dismally at the less-than-modest hospital gown. He was relatively certain that among those that had seen more of him than anyone ever needed to see - other than Michael, that was - it included both Olga and Peter, which probably meant they were scarred for life.
Or something.
Caspian was distracted by the fact that he’d made Peter blush, which was like an accomplishment in and of itself. He was pleasantly surprised that Peter was even able to make that expression, and he mentally filed away under things that he kind of wanted to see if he could bring out more in someone normally so stubborn.
It was nice. It felt...homey, in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Yes, and I cut my hand to shreds,” Caspian said, glowering at the wrappings on his wrist. “Some badassery.”
He turned to look at Peter, who was smiling at his shoes, and the expression on his face softened.
“If there’s chicken strips,” Caspian said, “You could grab me a couple.”—————— ”Better than your face being cut to shreds,” Peter offered with a small shrug and took to stepping towards the door. “Although, you said girls and guys dig cool scars, so… maybe it would be cool if you got your face cut up.”
He still wasn’t entirely sure about Caspian, but it seemed as though he wasn’t going away any time soon, not when Michael was obviously so invested in him, and Caspian said he was in love with Michael.
Ah, he could not wait for the day when Caspian met the rest of the family. And Nana. That would be great, especially since Nana and Michael always seemed to argue about one thing or another, but he didn’t dare mention that to Caspian just yet. He would find out eventually. Maybe.
“Chicken strips. Got it,” he said with a thumbs up and took another step back. “I’ll be back,” he added and took his leave with one last backwards glance at Caspian and Michael, who was still sleeping on the couch.
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