[ He doesn't even have it in him to tell Peter to fuck off, though he sort of vaguely thinks it. It's probably a good thing, the exhaustion, the medication dragging him under, because otherwise his mind would be reeling. Even as sleep claims him, all he can think is, how do I get out of this?
That's always been what he's good at. Shifting the blame, slipping away without a trace. But that's not an option now. The universe removed it when it decided to make staying apart painful for them both, and now here Peter is calling him on his shit.
Then do something about it, you asshole.
Much easier said than done. The whole prospect still terrifies him. Every tug of the invisible thread between them feels like a noose. They didn't ask for this, and Peter-? Peter deserves so much better than Alec Brennan and all of his issues.
They don't talk about it- them- the next day. Or the next, or even the one after that. Alec stays happily medicated and sleeping for most of the time, while his body tries to overcome the beating it took. (His condition is perhaps made worse by relying on his Enhancements for as long as he had, and not just the aftermath when they finally gave out. One more for the "extremely stupid shit he's done" list.)
Peter's always there, a quiet and angry presence, but he's there. Alec's sure he's sticking around more for his own comfort than any real concern, but Alec's still struck by the thought that he really doesn't deserve someone who would hang around for any reason.
And even days after that, they still haven't talked about it. Neither of them are talkers, apparently, but Alec's feeling more like himself. His injuries have mostly mended (thank god for space medicine), and he can get by with mild painkillers most of the time. With his head a little more clear, the desire to run is still there, itching at the back of his mind, though he carefully shuts his doors to keep it from Peter, and maybe himself. The fact of the matter is that there is no running from this, because the only thing scarier than being forced together is that gnawing emptiness when they're apart.
They haven't really said much to each other over the course of Alec's recovery. Sometimes he finds his gaze drifting to Peter's throat, to the mark that's hidden by his magic, and sometimes he similarly catches Peter's gaze on his arm, where the red band lay camouflaged. It always feels like those moments are going to lead to conversation, but they never do.
Until one such instance where he catches Peter's eyes lingering on his arm, and he decides that if they're not going to address the elephant in the room, they may as well at least talk about something. He needs to learn to give some ground. ]
They're spells. The tattoos, I mean. It's how I can do magic without having to cast first.
no subject
That's always been what he's good at. Shifting the blame, slipping away without a trace. But that's not an option now. The universe removed it when it decided to make staying apart painful for them both, and now here Peter is calling him on his shit.
Then do something about it, you asshole.
Much easier said than done. The whole prospect still terrifies him. Every tug of the invisible thread between them feels like a noose. They didn't ask for this, and Peter-? Peter deserves so much better than Alec Brennan and all of his issues.
They don't talk about it- them- the next day. Or the next, or even the one after that. Alec stays happily medicated and sleeping for most of the time, while his body tries to overcome the beating it took. (His condition is perhaps made worse by relying on his Enhancements for as long as he had, and not just the aftermath when they finally gave out. One more for the "extremely stupid shit he's done" list.)
Peter's always there, a quiet and angry presence, but he's there. Alec's sure he's sticking around more for his own comfort than any real concern, but Alec's still struck by the thought that he really doesn't deserve someone who would hang around for any reason.
And even days after that, they still haven't talked about it. Neither of them are talkers, apparently, but Alec's feeling more like himself. His injuries have mostly mended (thank god for space medicine), and he can get by with mild painkillers most of the time. With his head a little more clear, the desire to run is still there, itching at the back of his mind, though he carefully shuts his doors to keep it from Peter, and maybe himself. The fact of the matter is that there is no running from this, because the only thing scarier than being forced together is that gnawing emptiness when they're apart.
They haven't really said much to each other over the course of Alec's recovery. Sometimes he finds his gaze drifting to Peter's throat, to the mark that's hidden by his magic, and sometimes he similarly catches Peter's gaze on his arm, where the red band lay camouflaged. It always feels like those moments are going to lead to conversation, but they never do.
Until one such instance where he catches Peter's eyes lingering on his arm, and he decides that if they're not going to address the elephant in the room, they may as well at least talk about something. He needs to learn to give some ground. ]
They're spells. The tattoos, I mean. It's how I can do magic without having to cast first.