|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:34 pm
Takes place after Resentment
The silence of the apartment felt too loud. He could still hear the echo of his own heartbeat in his ears, the phantom hum of that rifle ringing in his bones. His side throbbed where a boot had landed. His temple pulsed with the rhythm of something wet and warm and slow.
Frustration was too small a word for it.
He was furious. At that Velencian -- for the ambush, for the accusations, for the way he looked at him like he was the enemy. At Surtur -- for standing in the way instead of at his side. And at himself, most of all.
He hadn’t been strong enough to win, without any doubt about the victor. And it hadn’t been enough to just stand his ground.
Peter leaned against the wall and clumsily bent down to untie his shoes… but couldn’t. His fingers trembled too hard. The laces blurred in and out of focus. He tugged at one stubborn knot, and then gave up with a quiet curse. He let himself sink down to the floor with a thud he hoped no one heard.
It was late. Haven was probably asleep. She should be. He didn’t want her to see him like this. Sweaty, filthy, bleeding. Tired in a way that was more than just exhaustion.
He let his head rest back against the wall. The wooden floor was cool beneath him. Grounding.
He wanted to get in touch with Caedus. He needed to make sure he was still safe. Still hidden. Still --
His jaw clenched. No. Not right now. Caedus had gone through enough. Tonight didn’t need to be another burden on someone already carrying so much.
Peter let out a breath after a long moment. His lungs burned on the way out. He wiped at his cheek, surprised to find blood rather than sweat there. Great. Just great. He leaned forward to try again with the shoes, fingers twitching at the laces, until finally one came loose.
The second one wasn’t so easy. He didn’t realize he’d gone still again until a soft sound broke the quiet -- a shift in the hallway, the creak of a floorboard. He froze. Then slowly turned his head toward the darkened archway. He didn’t say anything. But if it was Haven…
He didn’t know what he’d say. He only hoped she wouldn’t turn on the light. Because if she saw his face, she might just see how close he was to falling apart.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:35 pm
She turned on a lamp.
Soft yellow light lit the living area, stretching toward the dining area and the kitchen before ultimately falling short. It left the entryway in darkness, but Haven didn’t need much to see through the shadows. All she needed was an outline, a silhouette. She’d memorized the details a long time ago.
Haven padded toward the door on slippered feet, dressed for bed in soft lounge pants and a t-shirt. A single loose braid hung over one shoulder, keeping her long waves of hair contained. At night, at home, with no one to impress, she wore her glasses instead of the contact lenses she favored during the day.
“Peter?” she called when the figure sat quiet and motionless. “Are you okay?”
A rush of concern sent her heart racing, but Haven kept it tightly contained. Over the course of the war, they’d each been injured more times than either of them could count. Stumbling in so late at night wasn’t as uncommon an occurrence as she might wish it was. Panicking would help no one. Smothering Peter before he had the chance to reorient himself would do him no good.
So she crouched down by him, peering at his bruises through the lingering dark.
“What happened?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:35 pm
Peter didn’t look at her right away. The light hurt his eyes. The concern in her voice hurt worse.
He’d been preparing himself for silence. For getting up on his own, stumbling through a shower, maybe falling asleep half-dressed on the couch. He hadn’t been ready for her. Not like this. And it wasn’t even because he didn’t trust her. He just didn’t want to be seen as a disappointment.
The magic was long gone now, but the weight of it still lingered heavy in his body. Her voice cut through it.
Was he okay? No. He wanted to say it out loud. Just once. Just to admit that he wasn’t. That it was too much, sometimes. That being the one who always cracked jokes and smiled through bruised ribs and split lips was wearing thin on him. Ever since his father had been killed. Maybe before that.
But Haven’s tone was too gentle. Too kind. So he managed a crooked smile. His lips were pressed too tight for it to really count, but it was all he had. His fingers had finally untied the second shoe, at least. He just momentarily gave up on getting it off.
“I’m fine,” he lied, because that was easier than the truth. Even as Haven crouched beside him, he didn’t pull away. But he also didn’t lean closer to her.
“What happened?”
Peter took a deep breath through his nose, and let it out slowly. It hurt. He didn’t answer right away. But when he finally did, his voice came out quiet, maybe uncharacteristically so.
“Ran into someone looking for Caedus. Took it a little personally. It got ugly,” he said as he wiped once more at the dried blood by his temple and winced. The next thing he said was without his usual bravado. Without any walls.
“I didn’t win.”
That admission felt worse than anything that had been thrown at him. He finally looked at her, but there was nothing humorous in his expression. Just exhaustion.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said, his voice and expression sincere. “But I don’t think I can lie to you right now.” As if she ever couldn’t see through the lies anyway.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:36 pm
“I don’t need you to lie to me,” Haven said. “I want you to be as honest as you need.”
If he didn’t want to talk, they didn’t have to, but she’d listen if he wanted. She’d offer what comfort and advice she could, even if she wasn’t sure she knew how to do either of those things for someone who’d gone through what Peter had. Not tonight, but years ago—and before that, when he was a child. He’d always thrown himself deeper into the war than she had, even when he’d been too young for it. He’d seen things she could only imagine, some she didn’t want to.
Haven hovered close while allowing him his space. Peter had grown, but sometimes she still saw flashes of the boy he used to be. She looked for him now and saw only ghosts.
“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes sad, mouth slipping into a sympathetic frown. “I’m sure—Or… I mean, I know it’s a difficult situation.”
She wasn’t sure of anything. She hadn’t been there the night Oberon saved Caedus; she hadn’t even been in town. She hadn’t spoken to any of the Velencians since, couldn’t judge the situation beyond what she’d been told after the fact. She knew how Peter felt, and she supported his decision.
She couldn’t imagine it was easy for anyone involved.
“Is Caedus alright? They didn’t find him, did they?”
Peter didn’t seem upset enough for that, but she knew he liked to hide things, liked to push things down and pretend they didn’t bother him as much as she knew they had to.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:36 pm
Peter let out a soft breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but something close. It was a bit shaky.
“Don’t think I’ve ever been good at honest. Not the kind that matters,” he mumbled with a quiet sigh, making a face when that hurt, too. He always hid behind humor, or focused on helping others, like his brother. Things weren’t as painful if he didn’t have to think about them.
But… he appreciated it -- that she didn’t press. She just… stayed close. Close enough to remind him that he wasn’t alone, but far enough that he could breathe without her seeing the full extent of the cracks.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his shoulders slumping. He still hadn’t bothered to get the second shoe off. It felt stupid now, like it was too much effort for something that didn’t matter. Everything hurt. His ribs throbbed. His back ached from where he’d hit the tree. His temple was sticky. He’d need stitches, probably. Or not. He was sure there was something in the first aid kit that could hold him together.
He felt…
Old.
“I think he’s okay,” Peter said after a moment, answering her question about Caedus. “He’s smarter than people give him credit for. Has tech that can pick up on ComTechs nearby. I told him to hide while I lured whoever it was away. He listened.”
He hoped.
“He just wants to exist,” he added with a shrug -- which he regretted. “Didn’t ask for his starseed to be experimented on. Didn’t ask to be hunted down and turned into some kind of miracle cure.”
He shook his head, staring at his bruised hands. “I don’t think I even realized how angry I was. Not at Caedus. Just… at how easily people forget that we’re still people. That we get to matter, too. Even when the stakes are high.”
He turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve always been better at being human than I have.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Teach me?” He was half-joking, half-serious. Maybe more of the latter than he wanted to admit, but if she thought it was too silly, then he would just claim the former.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:37 pm
“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” Haven said about being human. “I still don’t find it easy to connect with people. Sympathizing, empathizing—those are simple. I don’t have any trouble feeling. It’s expressing them the right way that’s hard. What if I say the wrong thing, or do something someone doesn’t like?”
She shifted out of her crouch to sit more comfortably on the floor, reaching for Peter’s remaining shoe. With the laces already untied, it slipped off easily enough. Haven set it aside with the first one. Neither shoe was particularly dirty. Peter’s clothes were intact and relatively unstained, except for a few spots of blood. His fuku must have looked worse.
“I think if I were in Caedus’ position, I’d feel the same way. I’d want to live,” she continued. “I know I’d feel guilty for it, so I assume he does, too. If I’d been there the night you saved him, I would’ve helped you. Maybe I would’ve been conflicted about it, knowing why they wanted his starseed, but it’s hard to give up on someone you know, someone you consider a friend. Even if I understand why they’re so desperate.”
Haven shifted again, sliding close enough to sit beside Peter, inches away from touching.
“But I wasn’t there, so I have the luxury of distance. I didn’t have to make a choice. I understand why all of you did what you did and believe how you believe. I don’t know that I can say for sure if any of you are wrong—you, or Caedus, or the other Velencians. Maybe there’s no right answer. We all just want to survive.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:37 pm
Peter stayed quiet for a long moment. His eyes were fixed on the middle distance -- somewhere near the floor, but not quite on it. He was listening, though. He always listened to her. Even when they were kids in school and he insisted that he always had a better grade than her (he didn’t -- not all the time). The only reason he felt so competitive with her was because her thoughts mattered. So when she said something, he’d learned long ago that he needed to listen.
When she removed his shoe, he didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. He just watched her hands, soft and steady, and thought briefly about how ridiculous it was that something so simple and kind made him feel like he was breaking a little. That such a small gesture was so impactful. Not that he would ever admit it.
“I think he does feel guilty,” he said eventually, his voice still quiet. “I think he tries not to show it. Like me.”
Peter leaned his head back against the wall behind him, tilting it just enough to look at her. His temple throbbed, but he didn’t let it show.
“I know,” he agreed. “Even if you were conflicted. You’ve got a good heart. And you always know the right thing to do, even if you don’t think you do.”
He gave her a small, tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know if I did the right thing. I just… didn’t want him to die without someone on his side.” He paused again, his smile fading and his voice a little rougher when he added, “Sometimes I wonder if I only did it because I knew how it felt. To have no one.”
He knew that wasn’t quite right, and he let out a sigh that sounded like disappointment -- in himself, of course. “That’s… that’s not what I meant,” he added quickly.
She was obviously there for him. He had his family. But… he was always the odd one out. Always acting out to get attention. Always pushing himself to do more, be better, learn more things. His dreams of being an astronaut dashed? A travel expert not making sense when he couldn’t bring himself to leave Destiny City with the war going on? Now he was a faux “treasure hunter” who spent more time cataloging artifacts that didn’t even belong to him than he did actually exploring like he wanted. Some Senshi of Adventure he was…
His eyes dropped back to the floor, feeling too awkward to try and explain further, especially if he already said something that upset her. “I don’t want anyone to feel like they have no one. Not even someone I barely know.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:37 pm
Haven didn’t take it personally. Her frown deepened with additional sadness, but only because she could tell Peter was in pain. Even though he hid it well. Even though he might never admit it. He was hurting—because of what happened tonight, because of what happened to his father, because of what happened several years ago on the hill.
“I think maybe you relate to him, even if your experiences aren’t even close to being the same,” she said. “Everyone else in your family are Knights. You’re the only Senshi. There’s a difference, even if we’re all on the same side. You awoke when you were a kid, before your parents knew anything about the war. You had to hide a lot about yourself from people you should’ve been able to rely on. That can be isolating, even when it’s no one’s fault. It was circumstance.”
As far as Haven knew, she was the only one in her family to awaken. Her parents had no idea. She’d kept the secret from her brother. Her grandfather would’ve looked at her like the devil incarnate if he’d known of her magic, instead of the golden child he’d thought she was. It hadn’t been easy to hide the truth, but it had been necessary. She paid the price for it because she had to, drifting away from them—to keep them safe, and to keep herself safe, too.
Maybe Peter was lucky to have his family beside him. Maybe it was a curse, knowing they were always in danger, that one wrong move might affect all of them. He’d already lost his father to the war. Haven knew that affected him more than he ever showed.
“You’ve felt alone even when you’re surrounded by people,” she said. “He must know what that’s like, too. And… with your dad…”
Haven bit her lip guiltily and cast her gaze to the floor. Peter never talked about it. He’d gone quiet after it happened, then forced the return of his cheerful self before he was ready, only he no longer seemed as chipper as before—his smiles and jokes accompanied by a jaded edge. Haven didn’t want to force it, but avoiding the subject completely seemed disingenuous.
“It happened so soon after. You saved Caedus because, to you, it was the right thing to do, and then a few months later… Well… I think, maybe you feel so strongly about Caedus now, stronger than you did before, because… you’re looking for someone to save. You want to believe you can, because a very unfair thing happened to you, and you don’t want life to be unfair to someone else.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:37 pm
Peter didn’t move for a while. He kept his head tilted back against the wall and let the silence stretch. Her words hit something he didn’t want to explore too closely. But he didn’t shut down, either. He just let it fill the void that he didn’t realize was still there.
When he spoke finally, his voice was rough with exhaustion.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asked. It wasn’t accusatory, just soft. “Looking for someone to save?”
There was no bitterness in his tone, just a quiet sort of ache, like he was holding onto something fragile and he didn’t know if he should put it down or hold it closer. He didn’t know the right answer. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn’t just about Caedus. Maybe it never had been.
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Peter breathed, and this time his voice cracked. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. The words just… came out.
“I told myself it didn’t matter. That he was proud of me. That we didn’t have to talk about it.” He paused to rub his hand over his face, wincing as he pressed too hard against the blooming bruise on his cheek and jaw. “But it does matter, because I keep thinking about the last thing I said to him -- except I can’t remember what it was. I know it wasn’t anything important, and now I don’t get a chance to change it.”
He let out a breath and was quiet again, but this time he didn’t look away from her.
“Maybe I do want to believe I can save someone,” he said finally, his voice a little steadier. “Because then at least it wouldn’t be all for nothing.”
He paused again and grimaced, but the faintest trace of his old humor found its way back into his voice, despite how tired it sounded. “God, I sound like a walking tragic backstory.”
He didn’t laugh at himself. But he leaned just slightly closer in her direction, tilting his head to rest his temple against hers. Because she was there. She always had been. And she knew how he felt without him even having to say it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:37 pm
“War makes tragic backstories,” Haven said without judgment.
She’d been fortunate, so far, to avoid one of her own.
Their heads touched and Haven let them rest together. She let the quiet descend for a few moments, not because she thought either of them needed it but because she no longer knew what to say. They’d both been there the night Peter’s father died, fighting the youma responsible for destroying the device which kept Jet trapped. Peter had known there was one lurking around, even if he hadn’t had proof. If only they’d found it… If only they’d been able to stop it, maybe Beau Gallo would still be alive today.
“I’m sorry it happened like that,” Haven said, her voice little more than a whisper. “I’m sorry it happened at all.”
She took Peter’s hand into her own. Even the non-dominant one closest to her was a mess of broken skin and bruising. Maybe he hadn’t won, but he’d still put up a hell of a fight. Haven held his hand gently, indifferent to the blood she got on herself in the process.
“You still have a chance to save Caedus,” she reminded him. Her voice might lack volume, but not confidence. “Maybe you don’t know how yet, but… I know you’ll find a way. I think your dad would want you to try. It’s what he would have done.”
Beau Gallo had died trying to convince one of Metallia’s most loyal soldiers that he had been misguided by Chaos, because he’d believed both that it was possible and that even Jet deserved the chance. He would have done what he could for Caedus—and died for that, too, if it came to it.
Haven liked to believe there had to be a solution that didn’t require anyone’s sacrifice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:38 pm
Peter closed his eyes. He didn’t pull away when she touched his hand, although his fingers twitched like they weren’t sure how to stay still. He could feel every scrape, every bruise, but somehow her touch dulled the pain more than it added. Not in a magical way. Just in a Haven way. The gentle reminder that she was there. Part of him wanted to take her hand into his, but he didn’t want her feeling like she had to stay. Even though he knew she would.
“Yeah,” he said eventually, his voice low. “He probably would’ve told me to try… and then teased me for getting my a** kicked.”
His smile was small, the kind that didn’t last long, but it was real while it was there. Peter let himself lean a little closer, just enough that their shoulders touched. It wasn’t bold. Just absorbing some of her steady presence as if it calmed his soul. She was there with him. He didn’t have to pretend.
“You don’t have to stay up,” he added after a moment, voice still quiet. “I’m just gonna shower. Maybe sit on the couch for a bit.”
But his hand didn’t move from hers. Not right away. If she stayed… he wouldn’t stop her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:38 pm
Haven returned his smile—equally small, and fond in a way it hadn’t been when they were kids in constant competition with one another. Maybe going to different schools after Knightside had softened them to one another. Maybe being Senshi together had something to do with it, too. Haven didn’t think many people could share in something like that and not be affected. In some situations, they were all the other had.
Her hand remained on his, though she didn’t lace their fingers together, merely let her hand cover his like she could shield him from his pain. Their shoulders touched. Haven let them rest together, inching closer to support more of Peter’s weight.
He was her best friend. Haven liked to think she was his, too. She was rarely confident in herself enough to be certain, but it seemed more and more likely each day. If she knew how to ease his pain, she would do it. At the moment, the only thing she could think to do was be there for him however long he needed. Even if she didn’t know the right words. Even if she didn’t think she had what it took to make things better. Maybe that wasn’t up to her. Maybe that was something Peter had to figure out for himself.
Haven turned her head to look into his bruised and bleeding face, into his sad eyes that, for years now, had lost some of their shine. Somewhere deep beneath the sorrow he tried so hard to hide, pieces of the defiantly optimistic boy Peter used to be waited to break free again.
Tentatively, Haven leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll stay,” she said—like it was simple, like she couldn’t think of any other option, and wouldn’t hear it if Peter decided any different.
Fin
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
