pullmeoutalive | Ramey

[ He grunts to acknowledge the question, mulling over the hastily memorized floorplans in his head as Alec helps him get to his feet, stepping in to take his weight. He’s not sure if it’s time or the little snippets of rest, but the ache of his injuries is a little less sharp, a little less grating. Not gone, but the bite has been curbed. Gives him a chance to further clear his head.

Unconsciously, he leans into Alec, letting out a quiet breath. ]

Lots of windows. Couple balconies. [ A little wryly, though drowsily, and definitely not the best of ideas, climbing down the side of the house, given the state of him. Still options. ]

Patio. Attached to the master bedroom. [ A quick twitch of his head toward the back of the house. ] Stairs to the garden.

Room might be locked.

Hm. [ He mentally goes over each of the options, looping his free arm around Peter’s waist to keep him steady as they exit the little office and take to the halls again. The party and therefore the security are focused on the grand hall at the front of the estate, so-- ]

Back of the house is probably the best bet.

[ There’s a little bit of his usual smugness in his voice when he adds, ] I can handle a locked door.

Smug asshole.

[ Again, he says it more by rote than with any real feeling. He’s not sure if it’s their imminent escape that’s making him relax bit by bit, but it’s happening all the same.

They stumble through the halls together. Peter focuses on putting one foot in front of another, trying to shove off the drowsy feeling that’s filling his head like cotton. At least Alec’s presence at his side is something of a comfort. Means he won’t fall flat no his face at a misstep.

Thankfully, they reach the back of the house without incident; with the party still in full swing, security is likely lurking around on the first floor, at the staircases. The door, though, is locked, as Peter predicted. ]

[ The more they trudge along, the more Alec feels at ease. The danger has passed, and they managed to salvage some information up. For what he was expecting to be a disaster, it hasn’t turned out too bad, and he finds contentment in the fact that once they get out of here, they’ll be that much closer to putting this whole job behind them.

They come upon the locked door, and Alec casts Peter a look. He’s reluctant to let the other man go- Peter’s still not very steady on his feet, and he doesn’t trust his ability to keep himself upright at the moment. ]

You gonna be okay if I set you down?

Edited (I lost my ability to English) 2016-11-01 22:46 (UTC)

[ Another little grunt, and reluctantly, he pulls his arm away from Alec’s shoulders.

Reluctant, he tells himself, because the idea of collapsing under his own weight isn’t exactly palatable. Alec’s been hauling his all but dead weight around, and he’s only a little sure on his chances on keeping himself upright. He feels a little more steady now, though. Not completely, but enough to sustain himself for a little while.

Peter shifts his weight, and he falls a little heavily against the wall beside the door, using that to hold himself up. ]

Take your time. [ a little dryly, his hand twitching against his ribs. ] Can do this all day.

[ He helps ease Peter away from him, though he’s a little tentative about it. He’s practically been carrying Peter this far, sure, but if the guy collapses he really doesn’t want to have to actually carry him out of here.

Once Peter seems to be settled, he moves to the door- would that it were an old-fashioned lock and key kind of door, but it’s mechanical, a glowing number pad staring him in the face.

He starts etching out a series of runes in grey-purple light, casting a glance over at Peter now and then while he works, as if he wants to make sure he’s still there. ]

Broken rib, you think?

Ohhh, yeah. [ another dry touch of humor, a smile that might as well be a grimace. He takes a careful inhale, and his side twinges, warns him away from any more of that, thank you. ] Bruised, at least.

[ He tips his head back against the wall, lazily watching as Alec works. That purple again, and Peter imagines that pressure around his neck, his hand going to his collar unconsciously. ]

Walk me through what you’re doin’.

[ Because if he has to stand here in silence, he’ll have to think to keep himself occupied, and really, all he can think about right now is how much tonight has fucking sucked, and how much everything hurts. ]

[ His gaze slides back over to Peter, one eyebrow arched. ]

Seriously?

[ He’s not sure just what Peter’s going to do with a step-by-step guide to opening a door with magic, but he supposes it’s something to talk about. Better than sitting around and doing nothing. So, he doesn’t wait for a response before continuing, ]

If this were an old-fashioned tumbler lock, I’d have it open in about a second, but since it’s not, I’m trying to get in without forcing it too much.

[ He casts as he talks, a line here, another careful mark there. ] Elemental spells are kind of my specialty, and once you learn how to manipulate lightning, electricity isn’t too far behind. I’m gonna pull the power out of the lock and disengage it that way.

[ He gets about three-fourths of that, at least. Figure it’s like redirecting power, in a way, killing the electricity in one system and moving it to another, then reestablishing the connection when all’s said and done. Not that he’s super good at that, personally – Peter’s better at the hands-on stuff, like picking locks and slipping items out of pockets – but he’s seen Rocket do it. ]

Is it gonna be noticeable? [ A tiny little jerk of his chin toward the lock. ] They gonna know it got tampered with after?

The system shouldn't detect any loss of power. [ He indicates the series of runes he's been drawing out. ] It'll redirect here, and get stored here. For all intents and purposes, it'll still be powering something.

Then I'll ease the power back in. It'll be like we were never here.

[ Peter nods, content with that answer. Bad enough they've left two guards (guards' bodies?) to recommend them by; they didn't need tampered devices and computers to mark their passing, too.

He lets Alec work for a few more seconds before the corner of his mouth twitches up in an echo of his usual, roguish smiles.

Then, ]

See? [ a familiar hint of smugness. ] That wasn't so hard, was it? Explainin' to me what you're doing.

[ Alec's gaze flits back over to Peter at his remark, and it's a testament to how much his mood is improved that he breathes out a little laugh. ]

Okay, but how much of that explanation did you just smile and nod your way through?

You lost me after "tumbler lock."

[ He lazily reaches out his free hand, patting Alec on the shoulder. ]

Appreciated it, all the same.

See if I ever explain magic to you again.

[ He steps back from the door, inspecting the runes glowing up at him. Apparently satisfied, he holds his hand out for Peter. ] Come on. I'm ready to be done with this place.

[ He takes a breath, jaw clenching as he readies himself, then pushes himself off against the wall, one hand clasping Alec's wrist. It's less a matter of getting himself upright, as it is a matter of getting himself upright enough for Alec to catch him.

And he does, mostly, though he nearly spills over to one side; he grabs onto Alec's shoulder at the last second to keep himself on his feet, though the strain of it sends a warning flare up his side, bright and near blinding. ]

—sorry. [ A shaking breath. ] Sorry. 'M good.

[ Peter nearly topples over and Alec moves on instinct, hooking his free arm around Peter's side to help steady him. For a moment, they just stand there as Alec waits for Peter to get his bearings, for his breath to even out. ]

I got you.

[ When it seems that Peter's not going to collapse, he eases his arm back over his shoulders- second verse, same as the first. Once they're ready to go, he gives a little motion of his hand, and the runes over the keypad glow brighter, sparking as electricity moves from mark to mark in a steady stream. The keypad goes dark and the door opens with a soft click.

Alec grins again- he does so love it when things work out- and guides Peter into the room, pausing only long enough to quickly disassemble his spellwork before shutting the door, the lock clicking back into place. ]

Still with me?

[ Yeah, that was pretty impressive, Peter has to admit. Begrudgingly admit.

... nah, just straight up admit. He doesn't give enough of a shit to do the whole "resentful and annoyed" routine right now. ]

Depends.

[ His gaze flicks over to Alec as they move further into the room. ]

If I say "no," will you finally let me fucking sleep?

If you say no, I'm gonna pour some cold water over your head.

[ The door to the back patio thankfully unlocks easily from the inside, and they're able to slip out without much trouble. Alec turns and magics the lock back into place behind them. He's very big on covering his tracks, as if that weren't already apparent.

Something occurs to him as they carefully make their way down the stairs to the garden- something he wanted to address but in the moment was not the time to do it. ]

You seriously thought I threw you under the bus back there?

[ He doesn't sound angry or accusatory. Peter seems to have dropped that line of thought anyway, so there's no reason to get worked up about it. He's just curious. ]

[ One foot in front of the other, he tells himself. He has to trust Alec is doing shit to minimize their presence, because Peter sure as hell doesn't have a mind to do it, himself. Wasn't much his style, anyway; he liked leaving a mark, back when his work drifted more into the darker side of grey. Like leaving signs that said, "Star-Lord was here."

... Figuratively.

... ... Sometimes literally.

(It wasn't nearly as impactful as he had hoped.)

The stairs prove a little more difficult, and with his free hand, he hangs onto the railing with a white-knuckled grip, teeth gritted against his discomfort. He nearly doesn't hear the question, or at least doesn't comprehend it, but eventually it settles, and he tenses at Alec's side. ]

I—

[ absolutely fucking did.

And I'm still not super convinced that you wouldn't right now, if you had to. ]

... wasn't thinking straight. [ is what he decides on, because it's a valid reason. The best lies are those that come from grains of truth, after all, and the excuse he gives comes out relatively smoothly. ] Panic. Concussion.

[ He clears his throat, easing himself down to the next step. ] You know how it is.

[ Normally, he’d be a little bothered by that explanation, logical though it is, but right now he can’t seem to find even a spark of indignity in him. He’ll be the first to admit that this partnership went south very fast, through no real fault of their own, but it still didn’t make for a great working relationship.

He lets out a soft noise, an exhalation of air through his nose. ]

If I really wanted to make you miserable, I know about a million other ways to do that than letting some cotton candy motherfuckers beat the shit out of you.

[ A length beat of silence, then, ]

If that was meant to, like, reassure me, then, uh.

I mean, A for effort, but...

[ Another amused little laugh, barely more than a huff of air. ]

I do what I do to screw people over, but only a certain type of people, and you don’t fit the bill. Besides, it’s not your fault the universe dealt us both a shitty hand, so taking it out on you would be pointless.

Also, your buddies would murder me if I let anything happen to you.

[ He breathes out a laugh of his own. ]

I get what you're saying, but hypothetically speaking, it's not like I would've been the first person with dangerous friends you messed with. They can't be that much of a deterrent.

There’s a difference between someone I’m trying to mess with and someone I’m trying to work with.

I’m— [ there’s a pause as he helps guide Peter down the last couple of steps. They stop there for a few to let Peter catch his breath before moving into the garden. If he remembers right, there should be a gate nearby. He picks up the thread of their conversation once they start moving again ] –I’m very particular about choosing my business partners, and usually they’re people that I would both never want to piss off and would never have to work against.

Edited (brackets!!) 2016-11-02 17:13 (UTC)

[ He makes a noncommittal noise at first, letting that stand in response as they make their way to the exit. His strength is flagging, he thinks, made worse by this weird feeling of comfort flowing through him. A quiet sort of contentment, like slipping under the covers of his bed after a long day of work.

It's probably that familiar sort of shutdown, when his mind knows they're almost scot-free,tells his body that it's welcome to clock out for the evening. ]

All this to say, "I didn't narc on you"?

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