alnifolia | OPEN POST;

[ The fact of the matter is, Earth hasn't been Peter's actual home for a very long time. He would make excuse after excuse, figure out ways to avoid going home, even after he had earned his place with the Ravagers and was gifted his own ship. "It's been too long. They probably think I'm dead. I'm too different -- they wouldn't recognize me. There's nothing for me there anymore." Anything to avoid seeing the disappointment in the faces of his family when they saw the sort of man he'd become -- selfish and arrogant and rough around the edges and nothing at all like the kind, sweet boy Mom thought he was. And then he turned his life around, in a manner of speaking, made a name for himself with the Nova Corps, and he still couldn't bring himself to touch down in Missouri.

And then it was too late.

The Reapers took that choice from him, in the end, and that's why he finally forced himself to fly to Earth. The team was forced to start shooting the instant the airlock doors parted, and it wasn't until later that he appreciated the fact the first time he stepped foot on Terran soil in almost thirty years, he was fighting for it. It should have been poetic, in a way.

So then there was a lot of battling and shooting and at some point it became less of a push and more of a try-not-to-die, and he and his team had been lucky as fuck to not suffer any serious injuries. Which he should not have said aloud, really, because not five minutes later did the Banshee find them behind cover, wrapped her hand around Peter's jaw and face and lifted him like he was a fucking rag doll. The worst part of it was the way her claws dug into the side of his head, gouged his skin, punctured and damaged the delicate attachment behind his ear, causing his helmet to retract.

And because of that, he had clear vision of the Banshee as she reared her free hand back, caught sight of those too-sharp talons. He wished he had a more eloquent final thought than, Oh, fuck me.

He felt the Banshee's nails dig in just beneath his sternum, but then there was an explosion and her claws tore to one side instead of penetrating through when the two of them were blasted apart, and his head and back slammed against shattered masonry, and he rolled the rest of the way to the ground. Everything swam and dipped and spun in front of him, and Kasumi darted toward him, and he faintly remembered lifing a hand up to her, but then she was snatched away and everything went black.

The first time he woke, he didn't know where he was or what was happening, except that Kasumi was just there, she was just there, and he screamed her name, and the medics had to hold him down while they were trying to stitch him shut and told him to lie back, sir, you're alright, calm down, calm down, only their words wouldn't settle in his head because she was just here, where was she, please, please--

They sedated him after that.

The next time he woke, it was to the familiar ceiling of the Milano, and he thought briefly that this was a dream, or maybe that he was dead, because his ship has been home for a long time, and if he had to be anyplace, it'd be here. But then again, his whole body ached and throbbed, but especially his head and chest, so maybe not dead or dreaming. It's only as he reached up to rub his temples that he noticed that he was practically swathed in bandages, and then Kasumi was whispering his name, and he doesn't think he's ever heard a sweeter fucking sound in his whole damn life.

He, Kasumi, and the Guardians came out of this relatively unscathed, and Peter doesn't know what to attribute their luck to, but he spends every waking moment sending it his silent thanks. Because they had all been in the thick of it and had gone into the battle knowing they wouldn't come back out. Except they did, and they're here, and even the fucking ship came out okay, if not a bit dinged and dented. The first night after he finally woke, he didn't fall back asleep. He was afraid this really was a dream, and the instant he shut his eyes, Kasumi would be gone, his friends would be gone, and he'd be alone somewhere, surrounded by strangers.

They're healing now, and like Kasumi, Peter can't move around too much. Broken ribs and a serious concussion and deep, angry slashes across his torso and on the right side of his head, courtesy of that fucking Banshee. He doesn't remember where the arm wound came from, but he's not surprised by it. The concussion makes it hard for him to focus, sometimes, so he isn't the best conversational partner; a lot of the time he simply takes Kasumi's hand in his, using the point of contact as an anchor to convince himself they're here, they're alive. They made it.

Peter murmurs a word of thanks as she's finishing off wrapping the bandage, and he shifts slowly over to one side on the bed, patting the empty space. ]

C'mon. [ His voice is still a little rough and really fucking tired-sounding, but he expect everyone who's recovering from the final push is the same way. ] Room for one more, dude.

[ Peter doesn't know, but she was there when the medics were stitching him up. Or rather, she was in the next room over, completely awake and aware and adrenaline barely pumping as the medics worked to extract the shards of metal embedded in her leg, having insisted that the dwindling supply of anesthetics were better put to use on people with graver injuries. So she'd heard when Peter awoke, heard him screaming her name, and it broke her heart. If she could have been right there at his side, she would have. She would've made sure she was the first damn thing he'd see when he came to, to let him know that she's here, alive and in one piece, somewhat.

But she couldn't, so she's trying to make up for it by personally overseeing his recovery in spite of her own injuries. When he's awake, she tries to stay awake, too. When he's resting, she's there, watching and holding his hand, making sure nothing's wrong, or she drifts to sleep herself and wakes up with her hand still wrapped around Peter's and her head resting on her arm on the bed, the rest of her body apparently having slumped over in her seat. Between all of this, they haven't had much time to actually talk.

Now, she turns in her seat, putting the bandages and other things back into the kit given to them by the medics, but offers him a tired smile when she turns back. ]

You need to not move around so much, dude. Doctor's orders. I'm fine over here.

[ But don't worry, Peter. She can be convinced. ]

[ At her answer, Peter unleashes his Puppy Dog Eyes -- half power, though. Full strength doesn't seem necessary. ]

You know, you could keep me from moving around if you got in here. And don't forget -- you got hurt, too. You should really have your leg elevated, so lying down would help.

Also, it's warm. Also, it's soft, on account of it being a bed. Also, I'm lonely.

[ She's fought mercs, bandits, Cerberus, Collectors, Reapers, you name it--

--but she cannot fight her boyfriend's Puppy Dog Pout. Damn you, Peter. Even so, she rolls her eyes at him. ]

We can't have you getting all lonely now, can we?

[ She carefully climbs into bed, unwittingly drawing in a sharp breath when pain shoots up her injured leg as she raises her leg up. ]

[ victory is sweet.

Thought shortlived, because he's frowning in concern when she gasps, and he pushes himself up slowly with his-- well, not his good arm. Slightly better arm. ]

You sure you're okay?

[ Kasumi waves a hand dismissively, not wanting to worry him or have him strain himself like he might be when she sees him pushing himself up. In any case, the pain subsides when she settles into sitting up with her legs laying flat on the bed. Her hand immediately finds Peter's, lacing their fingers together. ]

I'm fine, love. I promise.

[ With another small smile, she leans over and gives Peter a soft, gentle kiss on his forehead. ]

[ He doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he figures if she's resting with him in bed, then it's not like it can get too much worse, right?

So he lowers himself back down and pushes himself partially onto his side, leaning back against the bulkhead, so he can rest his arm against her waist. ]

If you need something, tell me, 'kay? I'm not completely useless.

[ She turns her head, and her gaze fixes onto his face, eyes darting and taking in every little wound and bruise that he has--something she's done many times already, but she can't help it. Eventually, she looks into his eyes. ]

I don't need anything else right now. I just--

[ Funny--amidst all the medical procedures and then resting from said procedures, and helping each other recover, they haven't said the words out loud. ]

I'm just glad that you're here.

Edited (icooonnn) 2015-04-22 03:19 (UTC)

[ -- ah.

He exhales slowly, and as carefully as he can, considering all the injuries they've sustained, he pulls her in close. ]

Yeah. [ He manages it after a long moment, because he can feel his eyes sort of prickle, and he doesn't want to lose it. There's no reason to -- not when they're both here and alive. His voice is soft, thick, and he manages a sort of rough chuckle. ] We're really fucking lucky.

[ Props to you, Peter, because Kasumi doesn't quite have the energy to keep it together anymore; when she sees the vaguest hint of tears in Peter's eyes, hers well up almost immediately, and she bites down on her lip before her expression falters and she responds, ]

We really, really are. God, Peter, I--

[ That's all she manages to get out before she's so rudely interrupted by her own sobbing. ]

[ Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Injuries be damned, he pulls her close, fingers threading through her hair. He whispers soft reassurances, most of it probably nonsense, but some of it just confirmation: we're here. we're still together. we're okay, we're okay.

But he's not going to tell her to stop, because he knows exactly how she feels. He didn't expect himself to make it through this, really. In a weird way, he knew Kasumi would -- she's fucking resilient, and a survivor, and that she lived never came as a surprise.

(Most likely, he just couldn't imagine a world without her.)

That he managed to live -- now that was a seriously weird but pleasant twist. Not that he's complaining. But before the last push, Peter didn't want to say goodbye. It was selfish, he knew, and he knew he should have given her some closure in case he didn't make it-- but he refused to pour his heart out. Distract her from the fight ahead. So instead of goodbye, he said, "Dinner and dancing, Goto. You and I have a date after this."

But there's time now, and the noose hanging over the galaxy has finally disappeared, so there's no reason not to say it.

So he whispers it into her hair along with the other reassurances: we're safe. we did it. we made it. I love you. ]

[ "Dinner and dancing, Goto. You and I have a date after this." Those were Peter's precise words in the last moments as they stood by the Milano's airlock, weapons unholstered and at the ready before they dove into the thick of the fight. Kasumi knew, at that moment, that it was his own version of parting words--not a real goodbye, but a see you later.

Kasumi had done the same thing, herself, after all, when Shepard contacted her before the battle. "Drinks are on me,” she'd told the Commander, because she knew Shep would stop at nothing to end the Reapers, knew she would give her own life if it meant ending this damn cycle once and for all.

So when Peter had said something much to the same effect, there was a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she put on her best smile for him, pulled him down by his jacket, and gave him a kiss without regard to their company or to the situation.

"I love you," were her parting words to him just as the airlock opened and they were immediately greeted by the sounds of warfare.

And those are the words that Peter whispers to her, now, and goddamn it, hearing them makes her cry even more, even as she wraps her arms around him, holding onto him like she doesn't want to let go ever again, because there's no describing her gratitude for the fact that she's even alive to hear him say those words.

Thankfully, her sobbing slows eventually, and she even manages to speak again, her lips curling into a smile even as her brows knit together and she has to blink to let the tears welling in her eyes fall so she can see him clearly. ]

I love you, too.

[ He doesn't even notice the protesting ache of the injuries along his chest as she clings to him, because he's too busy trying to soothe her, still carding his fingers through her hair like his mom used to do for him when he had a nightmare (and what was this whole fucking mess but one giant nightmare?). He hates to hear her cry, hates hearing her hurt, and for a moment he feels so guilty when she sobs all the more after he says those three little words.

But he doesn't apologize. He doesn't try to take them back. Because like hell is he going to feel sorry for loving this goddamn woman.

When she finally calms and pulls away, he brings a hand to her cheek, wiping away a stray tear or two with his thumb. Peter leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and returns her smile with one of his own.

Then, softly, ] You alright?

[ She nods, silently, letting go of him so she can place one of her hands atop his, holding it at her cheek, not realizing how much pain she's in from her injuries, either. Because being next to Peter brings her such warmth, in spite of it all, and while she's not the most religious person, she can't help but thank the gods or whatever beings exist on a higher plane of existence that they're alive and safe and just, everything. ]

Yeah. I'm sorry. I just... I can't believe it's over and we're alive. Everything we've worked for amounted to something after all.

[ She grows silent at the thought for a moment. All of her raids on those Cerberus bases, running around the galaxy to steal tech for the Crucible, the Guardians' traveling and helping the Nova Corps and attending to the colonies that might otherwise have been forgotten--the Crucible actually worked, for one, though Kasumi still isn't sure what exactly it did, and those colonies can keep existing now thanks to the Guardians and thanks to the success of this last stand. In time, her smile grows brighter. ]

We pretty much deserve a vacation.

[ Never mind that they're essentially being forced into one, anyway, what with their injuries. And that they're pretty much stuck here, anyway, with the Relays being severely damaged. ]

[ He rubs small, gentle circles on her back, and when she smiles, he feels relief flood his system.

He fucking loves that smile.

When the Ravagers took him in, Peter was raised to be a selfish guy. It's a hard habit to break at this point, after twenty-some-odd years of conditioning, so he doesn't think about all the good they've done. He doesn't think about all the people that are still alive or the planets and colonies they've saved from running around the galaxy, stealing devices and blueprints or whatever the hell. Making supply runs and bolstering defenses and breaking up the crime rings of people taking advantage of a shitty situation.

Peter's thinking about this. He's thinking about his stupid little ship housing his stupid little family of assholes and criminals. He's thinking about how they're lucky to be alive and how lucky he is to have them. He's thinking about Kasumi and her laugh and her smile and the press of her body against his. He's thinking about all the days they have ahead of them.

(And that's funny. Peter never did used to think about the future, but he's tired of living in uncertainty. Sure, they never know what tomorrow might bring, but it's not dangerous to hope anymore, is it?)

So he smiles, too -- a crooked, tentative little thing, but it's earnest. It's genuine. ]

Yeah -- once you and me are healed up, I'm thinkin' somewhere warm. Beachy. Sand and ocean and collecting sand dollars.

[ On Kasumi's end, tomorrows are new. She's someone who's made of yesterdays, and that much has slowly changed over the time that she's met and then been with Peter. Still, there has been uncertainty, fear that there aren't that many more tomorrows to have with him. Now?

She would agree with him. Hoping is something they can do, something they should do. Victory has come at a great cost, the extent of which Kasumi isn't even sure of, herself. Apart from her elation that she, Peter, and the Guardians have come out of this alive, she's waiting on word from the Alliance on where the rest of the Normandy crew are. They've essentially declared Shepard to been killed in action, unanimously declaring her a hero in the process, but there's a part of Kasumi that refuses to believe it until she personally sees the Commander's corpse being lowered into the ground or her ashes scattered across the sea. That woman has been brought back to life once, already. There's no way she could just be dead.

But she pushes those thoughts away, saves them for the times when she's up with nothing to do, because right now all she wants is to just be with him. There's no more "let's see if we live through this," now.

When he smiles at her, honestly, she feels like that's all she needs to keep on going. She's sure that even though they've won against the Reapers, everything's gone to shit, but none of that matters as much as the way he smiles at her, the way he holds her, runs his fingers through her hair, whispers I love you. ]

Yeah. That sounds perfect.

[ Sure, they're injured, and tired as hell, but there's nothing in this galaxy that's going to stop her from leaning in to kiss him, and god, now that they don't have to worry about whether or not it would be their last? It's fucking amazing. ]

[ She can probably feel him smile as they kiss, arms wrapped around one another, and if it were up to Peter, they'd stay like this all day.

But it is not, in fact, entirely up to him, and when his broken ribs protest this time, it's with a sharp ache that races up his sides, makes him gasp in pain and pull away. ]

Fuck--

[ He screws his eyes shut, breathes through it until the pain dulls to a throb, and by then the mood may or may not have been thoroughly killed. ]

--Sorry.

[ Concern lights up in her eyes the moment she hears him gasp, and when he pulls away, she pushes herself up as best as she can, fingers reaching and threading through his hair in an attempt to soothe him, the other hand reaching to hold his hand. It's her turn, now, to lean in and whisper reassurances, it'll be okay, love, you'll be okay, I'm here, as he rides out the pain. When he apologizes, she offers him a gentle smile, although the concern in her eyes remains. ]

Don't apologize, love. We got a little hasty there, huh? Do you need me to get you anything?

[ He shakes his head. ]

I'm fine. Sorry-- [ The last syllable is clipped. She did say not to apologize, so he casts her a slightly apologetic look. ] I'm fine. Just stay. Please.

[ She leans in to give him a kiss on his forehead, and when she pulls away, she looks down at him sweetly. ]

Of course. I'm pretty sure you're gonna be stuck with me for a while, anyway.

[ She might have really meant forever, but. ]

[ He huffs out a quiet laugh and falls silent for a second, then-- ]

When you-- a while ago, you said you were thinking about staying--

[ He hesitates, then his gaze moves down the collar of her shirt. ]

--with us, I mean. You probably don't remember, but-- not that you have to, but I-- I was wondering--

[ Again he falls silent, then exhales slowly. ]

Never mind. Sorry. Forget I said anything.

[ She tilts her head at him and keeps running her fingers through his hair even as he stumbles through his words. When he's come to a stop, her expression is a bit bemused; she's pretty sure she knows where he was trying to go with that, but-- ]

You were wondering... if I'm still thinking about staying, right?

[ She moves her hand under Peter's chin, and gently (very gently, given their injuries) tilts his head just enough to try and catch his gaze. Hers is locked firmly on his eyes with an unspoken determination. ]

Peter. We just survived through the galactic apocalypse. I thought I was going to lose you when that Banshee got you, and then the medics--they said you were going to be okay, but I was still worried, you know? I couldn't even think about my own injuries. But we pulled through. We're alive.

So there is no way in hell that I'm going anywhere unless you're going to be right there with me, Star-Lord. Not when neither of us thought we'd even have this chance.

[ And then she raises her brows and tries for a silly little smile, leans in to press her forehead against his, and although her voice is tired and raspy and tired, she sings softly, ]

Please, go all the way, just hold me close, don't ever let me go.

[ He laughs a little, quiet and relieved. ]

Intergalactic Karaoke Queen.

[ He pulls away only long enough to kiss her on the forehead again before pressing his brow to hers. He admits, silently, that he figured he was a goner when the Banshee had lifted him up, teeth bared and claws at the ready. After all, they'd seen more than their fair share of soldiers slaughtered in the same way -- and he remembers seeing the Banshee's arm was coated in viscera up to the elbow.

He swallows. Just another bad dream for the vault.

But he'll live. He lived through everything else, after all, defying every single odd in the galaxy. ]

Good. [ It's whispered, though. ] Can't imagine goin' anywhere without you, either.

Your Intergalactic Karaoke Queen, mind you. I wouldn't inflict this on anyone else.

[ She nuzzles his nose with hers, because goddamn it, she just wants to be grossly affectionate with him--because she can, and she doesn't care anymore. Right now, they're not Star-Lord and the galaxy's best master thief, they're just Peter Quill and Kasumi Goto. They're just two people who happened to meet one day in the middle of a galactic crisis, happened to become fast friends, then partners; they're just two people who fell in love.

Which is why she says it, once more for good measure, just a hair above a whisper, I love you, Peter. ]

Hey, inflict nothing. I like your voice.

[ He laughs a little when she rubs their noses together -- the gesture is one that he's only ever done with Kasumi, and he's come to relate it to something strictly hers. It helps that he's one of the privileged few who actually gets to see her without her hood, after all. His own reply is near instant: ]

Love you too.

❖
OPEN RP POST ① Pick a character ② Pick a prompt (or DIY) (shamelessly and selectively pilfered from bakerstreet's Random Scenario Meme) ③ Do the thing!. table code by betterdolphin

omfg i'm sorry this is so long

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject