It would break my heart. But you should see the way I limp around.
[ She hasn't quite given enough credit to just how fucked her leg is. After all the adrenaline had drained away from her body after she and Peter were seen by the medics and then returned, with help from Groot and the medics, to the Milano, she'd sat at Peter's bedside, waiting for him to regain consciousness after his sedation. In spite of her relief that they were alive, it was still hard to believe, and she recounted every single injury and how she'd got it in her head, from the moment they stepped through the ship's airlock doors upon touchdown, guns literally blazing, to the red wave that killed all the Reapers as Kasumi held an unconscious Peter in her bleeding arms. She remembered the bullets grazing her skin, shrapnel, a lot of shrapnel, the fiery blasts that left burns on her skin as the previous injuries began tearing away at her light armor and suit, and worst of all, she remembered the metal rod piercing its way through one side of her leg and just barely clean through to the other from when the Scion snatched and threw her shortly after the Banshee almost killed Peter.
Or rather, she remembered it in retrospect; at the time, all she could think of was Peter, God, please let him be alive, I need to get to him, please, please don't let him die on me, I can't do this again, and she barely realized that she had somehow extracted herself from the pile she had essentially been embedded into, her body having lost all of its strength and running solely on adrenaline and fear, fear that she'd just lost Peter.
When the wave had pulsed through and killed the Reapers, she sat there stunned in silence for a moment-everyone around them did. It wasn't until a minute or two later that the troops around them began to holler in victory, and Kasumi might have joined them, but instead she looked down, down at Peter's unconscious face, tears brimming in her eyes as she began to cry and whisper, please, Peter, don't leave me, I can't do this without you, love, please be alive, I love you. It wasn't until a few moments later that the medics and the well-enough troops did their sweeps, applying Medi-Gel to the most gravely wounded and escorting the injured back to the camps. It wasn't until a pair of medics came by, immediately checking for Peter's pulse and comforting a near-hysterical Kasumi by assuring her that they would do all they could for him and lifting him onto a stretcher, and it wasn't until they asked her if she was alright and she tried to stand up and failed horribly that she remembered, oh, god, my leg.
At present, she sobers at the thought. This healing process is going to be long, very long. ]
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It would break my heart. But you should see the way I limp around.
[ She hasn't quite given enough credit to just how fucked her leg is. After all the adrenaline had drained away from her body after she and Peter were seen by the medics and then returned, with help from Groot and the medics, to the Milano, she'd sat at Peter's bedside, waiting for him to regain consciousness after his sedation. In spite of her relief that they were alive, it was still hard to believe, and she recounted every single injury and how she'd got it in her head, from the moment they stepped through the ship's airlock doors upon touchdown, guns literally blazing, to the red wave that killed all the Reapers as Kasumi held an unconscious Peter in her bleeding arms. She remembered the bullets grazing her skin, shrapnel, a lot of shrapnel, the fiery blasts that left burns on her skin as the previous injuries began tearing away at her light armor and suit, and worst of all, she remembered the metal rod piercing its way through one side of her leg and just barely clean through to the other from when the Scion snatched and threw her shortly after the Banshee almost killed Peter.
Or rather, she remembered it in retrospect; at the time, all she could think of was Peter, God, please let him be alive, I need to get to him, please, please don't let him die on me, I can't do this again, and she barely realized that she had somehow extracted herself from the pile she had essentially been embedded into, her body having lost all of its strength and running solely on adrenaline and fear, fear that she'd just lost Peter.
When the wave had pulsed through and killed the Reapers, she sat there stunned in silence for a moment-everyone around them did. It wasn't until a minute or two later that the troops around them began to holler in victory, and Kasumi might have joined them, but instead she looked down, down at Peter's unconscious face, tears brimming in her eyes as she began to cry and whisper, please, Peter, don't leave me, I can't do this without you, love, please be alive, I love you. It wasn't until a few moments later that the medics and the well-enough troops did their sweeps, applying Medi-Gel to the most gravely wounded and escorting the injured back to the camps. It wasn't until a pair of medics came by, immediately checking for Peter's pulse and comforting a near-hysterical Kasumi by assuring her that they would do all they could for him and lifting him onto a stretcher, and it wasn't until they asked her if she was alright and she tried to stand up and failed horribly that she remembered, oh, god, my leg.
At present, she sobers at the thought. This healing process is going to be long, very long. ]
But I'll be okay. And so will you.