snowblindrpg | [log] Lean on me [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Lean on me [closed]

Characters: The Sorcerer Not-Yet-Supreme, Star-Cat, Star-Lord, and the Librarian
Location: Building 318 and various
Date: Day 339-343
Summary: The visiting of Flynn Carsen to the clan of Snow.
Warnings: References to character death, drowning, blood (because this is a scary building), more CW's in ensuing threads.

318: The stench of blood is thick in this garage, with blood long-soaked into the concrete floor, staining nearly the entire expanse. There are empty wooden tables to be sat on if you would rather not sit on the floor, though they've all been flipped as if in anger. One of the tables has been broken into pieces and burned, and another has pieces missing as if someone had begun to break it into pieces but was interrupted. The whole place has a hostile air to it, and the walls sound like they're breathing at night. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO, CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE." "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX, PLEASE CALL @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE NEEDED." and "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY EIGHT, FOR ANY ASSISTANCE PLEASE CONTACT @LELRIC ANY TIME." are written on one of the walls.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Do you regret it?

The question takes him completely off guard, and he just stares, a blank stare. His mouth goes dry, and he suddenly feels he should grab his crumpled up jacket and cover his arm. But he can't really move, he's just stunned, frozen by the compulsion to share, to find answers--

What was it like?

He wants to answer and he doesn't want to answer, but maybe it would give a clue. The red lines extend over the scars, maybe there was a reason.

"It's...complicated." He's not actually looking at Flynn right now, but it's hard to tell with how his eyes are blankly red. Why is his mouth so dry? "I do...regret it. But then again, I don't. Because if someday this saves lives, I can't regret it. But I hate the fact that the town is this bad that I had to resort to this."

There's a visible pause as he seems to be fighting with himself.

"It was horrible. Think of someone trying to do this to you..." he waves his other hand at his arm. "Feeling every cut, slowly, knowin' it won't end anytime soon until it's done. And then...and then it's worse, because it's you, man. You're making the cuts, you're overriding this...deep...instinct thing to protect yourself, and it's just...and it's still goin', and you're feeling sick from the pain, and there's blood dripping everywhere, and you can't stop, but you need to stop because there's something fighting, screaming in your head that no, no, stop this, but you can't stop because it might save your friends and this information is important. And then it's over and this guy you hate more than anyone else here helps you, and you've done him a solid and now you owe him songs and a favor and just...it's there now, this thing you've done to yourself and and you've endured someone slowly torturing you, but it's you. And you can't ever, ever take it back."

"And you can't ever, ever take it back."

Flynn is transfixed, still staring at the blood on Peter's hand and he feels the sick urge to reach out and squeeze out more and examine it, dissect everything until he gets his answers.

Another part of him wants to shake Peter because no, not this, not this, stop, stop talking to him, he doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know this. It's unfair to the real Peter and suddenly he feels a deflecting rage at the red-eyed impostor for sharing his best friend's secrets, for stealing them away. How dare he? Flynn has to take them back. All of them!

"You tortured yourself. You wanted to stop so bad and you couldn't."

He grabs Peter's wrist before he can stop the bleeding, eyes burning.

"Did you feel like you deserve it?"

The burning hits and it's terrible--Peter gasps, almost doubling over, squeezing his eyes shut. It hurt, it hurt and as he bares his soul it feels like something's ripped a piece away. Whatever it was, it's gone and as the pain subsides, he feels just that more hollow.

And then he grabs his wrist and--

Did you feel like you deserve it?

Don't ask him that, Flynn, please--Peter's red eyes widen, shining more they'd been a few minutes ago, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Don't, please--

--what if, though? What if this was the key? They had to stop this. They had to do whatever it took to stop this. No matter what. His voice is hesitant, then grows stronger. Angrier.

"I failed Rocket. I got myself killed. I killed House and Wilson. I almost killed Stephen and Bucky. I've done terrible things in stuff that's never even happened yet, or will ever happen. I coulda killed you how many times now? I felt like I deserved it when it was happening. And look. Now? I'm the reason Blue is dead. So yeah. I feel like I deserve it. I do deserve it. My mistakes, can't erase them."

Edited 2018-03-25 23:09 (UTC)

The pained response makes him pause and this time the uncomfortable feeling is so strong Flynn almost recoils. He shouldn't ask this. He should never be asking this. He's hurting someone, causing them pain, and he's taking things that aren't his. It's wrong, everything about this is wrong and then he's taking another part-- He can feel it, stronger this time, and his mind struggles to rationalize away the agony he's being confronted with.

There's even an impulse to hug Peter and tell him it's okay – but then these eyes stare back up at Flynn and all the distrust and fear and paranoia flares up once more, drowning out the goodwill and the doubts.

"That's how you feel." His voice is quiet and-- sympathetic. He genuinely feels for Peter here. "Like you failed everybody. You feel like you deserve it."

Which was horrible. Which was why he would absolutely do anything to protect his friend. He feels so desperate about Peter's despair, and so angry.

"But you can help me fix this. We can fix this."

If Peter thought that last one was bad...

The tearing, the pain, the burning--he grimaces, he shuts his eyes and tries to barrel through it, he can't help but make another gasp of pain--

"...that pain's getting to be really a lot. Ow."

And another piece gone.

Such a ragged feeling in his soul.

They had to fix this before it got worse.

"We can fix this. I wanna fix it, I can help you." He sounds tired, but determined.

Another piece obtained for the greater good.

"Good! That's good. Because I really want you--" The real you. "-- to be safe."

Flynn looks down at Peter's hand, still caught in his grip. "I think the answer might be in your blood."

"My...blood?"

Peter looks down at his thumb, a single drop leaking down.

"I...I guess that makes sense. Nanomachines...DNA...You...think we should collect some? How much do you need?"

He wants to help! Even if this is kinda sketchy, but they got a one-up on this town. This time they can get ahead of it.

"I have a thermos, we can maybe fill the cup. Then I can examine it."

Nevermind that he has nothing to examine the blood with. Clearly he knows what he's doing, Peter. Flynn rummages through his bag and places the thermos on the table, unscrewing the top. But his eyes are drawn towards the container itself. Would a little cup really be enough?

"That's...okay, yeah, sure."

Seems legit. Peter reaches back down to gather up the hair he dropped and pushes it off to the side, and picks up the shard. Studying his arm a second, leans his elbow down on the table, and hesitates.

No, wait. No, this is too much like--

--he glances at his other arm, the scars staring back up at him.

Protect us.

He had to do it, he had to help Flynn figure this out and save everyone.

Peter plunges the shard into a visible vein on his right arm, blood immediately leaking out.

Flynn opens the thermos, putting the cup down, then looks back up at Peter.

"I can do it for y--" But Peter is way ahead of him and suddenly he cuts and then there's blood and at the sight Flynn winces back, overcome by a sinking feeling in his stomach and deep regret.

"Or- or that. Th-that works, too."

He carefully takes Peter's arm and places it above the cup, allowing the blood to drip into it.

"It's cool."

None of this is cool. This is galaxies away from cool.

Peter watches as Flynn takes his arm and puts it above the cup, as the blood drips steadily into it.

Drip drip drip drop--

A grim pitter-patter. Something goes slack in Peter's face, something that would look even more terribly disturbed if his eyes hadn't been covered in red.

Again. He'd hurt himself again. This just kept happening.

None of this is cool. Not even for Flynn, not even now.

He opens his mouth several times, trying to come up with something to say, with a response, but he can't.

"I'll-- I'll figure this out. I will. I promise."

"I know you can. I trust you, bro."

A wan smile, that doesn't hide the pain behind the red eyes.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.

Drip drop drip.

"Any theories so far?"

"I... yeah, I think it's..."

Drip drop drip.

"It's, um."

I trust you, bro.

"I think your... blood, it might be imbalanced and the lines, they kind of represent that, like... like blood poisoning and... and once I take a closer look at your blood I'll know what caused it."

"Blood poisoning? Yeah, y'know what? You might be right."

Drip drop drop.

"You see any difference? Maybe there's something in it." Yeah, like you don't even need a microscope, maybe. He doesn't really bother to ask how else is Flynn gonna study it. He trusts him. In his genius too, in his scientific expertise.

"I wonder what would have happened. If I was still on earth and they found out." He watches the drops, almost fixated. "Doctors, y'know? Tests. If they found out I was half-alien."

Edited 2018-04-03 04:56 (UTC)

"I'll... take a closer look once we collected enough."

Flynn stares at the blood, mesmerized and horrified and suddenly wishing he could just run away from the situation and this person who might not be Peter and who might not be a person at all.

"Is that a thing you think about a lot?"

"Okay." His tone suggests complete and utter trust, even if this did really hurt right now. He glances back up from the blood dripping to Flynn, his brows furrowing.

"...maybe not a lot, but sometimes. I really didn't find out that I was only half-Terran until after I met the Guardians. It's kind of...really scary when you think about it. I'm guessing earth technology's gotten better with, y'know, finding out about DNA and all that. Or maybe not and maybe they'd never find out. But what if they did? And I was just a kid and...I'd be locked up forever, right?"

A pause. "I've seen ET. Mom really didn't like that movie all that much. Now I know why."

Edited 2018-04-07 14:31 (UTC)

Flynn takes out one of his envelopes and stashes the hair inside so it won't fly away or get contaminated by the blood. Because that would ruin the results, surely.

"You only found out later? That must have been... well, surprising. And yeah, I guess your mother must have been quite worried about that if she knew..."

Maybe Peter could have come to work for the Library. If they were from the same universe, which they probably weren't but it was a nice thought. One that he will share with the real Peter once he's back.

"Why didn't you ever go back? To Earth? I mean, you do have a spaceship..."

There's a twitch that makes the blood stream shake when the burning hits again. He steadies his arm, not wanting to spill any.

"--yeah, that was seriously surprising," he adds, trying to make his voice not hitch until after the burning dissipates. "I can't imagine how worried she must have actually been. I wish I had...a chance to talk to her about it." His voice trails off, and actually does hitch.

He coughs and goes on.

"I never got around to it." A pause, he can't help but say the real reason. "...Earth is the place where my mother died in front of me." He sounds raw. "I was...afraid, I guess. Memories. I didn't want to deal with...with any of it. It...hurts, y'know? Stepping foot on a planet where she's no longer alive...but she should be, she should be and she's not?" He wipes at his eyes and glances up. "Norfinbury's different, it doesn't seem like earth earth, it feels like another planet."

"You're scared of going back to Earth?" A pause as he listens to the explanation. "I guess that must be very painful. But wouldn't you like to visit her grave? I went to my dad's all the time and--"

His voice stops there, too, because that is nothing he wants to get into.

"Well, as someone who spent his entire life on Earth, Norfinbury doesn't feel like Earth at all. More like a nightmare. The actual Earth is a lot nicer, you know? I really miss it."

The burning hits and he shuts his eyes a moment, gritting his teeth even more.

"...yeah." His voice shakes, a mix of both physical and emotional pain. "Dude, I don't--"

He's not sure if he should be telling anyone this, but the compulsion was there, and he was pulled along--

"--I'm afraid of seeing her grave, okay? That just makes it more real, that just proves she's dead and she's down there and she shouldn't be, she should be up and walking around and here and she's not, she's there underground and I can't...she's not here and won't ever be here again--"

God, that ripped a hole right straight out of his heart, and he bites back a stifled sob--something he hasn't put into words ever, something he didn't like thinking about, didn't want to think about--

"Yeah, must be great." It's bitter, spat out.

"I'm sorry. I--" Flynn presses a knuckle to his face, closing his eyes when he takes that. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about that, I shouldn't have-- I know that's very personal and painful and--"

Where was he going with this?

"It is."

Peter may be hurting but so is Flynn and he misses Earth and he misses everything Earth stands for and the Library and Judson and Charlene and Cal and pledging his life to keep Earth safe. "It really-- it really is. And when I give you the grand tour you'll see it."

The real Peter will see it.

[Peter can't answer a moment, he can't talk, the burning is too much and what he just said is too much and the blood dripping into Thermos cup makes it all seem just that much worse, and what is he even doing here, why is he doing this--the gasp of pain mixes with another stifled sob and he's trying to keep it together.

Finally, he takes a few deep breaths, unsure if he was about to run or yell or cry--a swallow, and a cough to clear his throat. His voice still sounds extremely raw.]

...I don't really want to talk about it anymore.

[He trails off quietly. He means both the previous topic and the grand earth tour.]

Okay.

[Flynn stares at his hands. How can he feel so accomplished and awful at the same time? His face is burning, he doesn't know why.]

I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I'll... make it up to you, I'll figure this out and everything will be better.

Um...sure.

[Peter feels like he's been wrung out, like something in him's been chewed up, bit by bit, taken and torn away. He shouldn't have said all these things. But it was for the greater good, right? If it helped Flynn figure this out. He takes a few deep breaths, a little shaky from the intense, re-occurring pain, and the sharp ache in his arm and the blood that's filling up the Thermos cup.]

...how far are you on figuring this out?

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death

cw self-harm, torture, blood, character death