pullmeoutalive | Ramey

[ He snorts a little. ]

Well. Maybe don't pull that shit again when you're supposed to be teaming up with other folks. Doesn't exactly set a good tone.

[ Wryly, ]

I’ll keep that in mind.

[ They move along through the garden until they reach one of the walls. Alec guides them along for a bit longer until they come across a gate- electronic lock like the bedroom door, probably to monitor comings and goings of the grounds keeping staff. Why else keep a lock on the inside? ]

Wanna call for a pickup while I work on this? Then we’ll be home free.

[ He pushes off again, supporting himself against the wall as Alec sets to work on the lock.

The call is short and sweet – bring the car around – and a heads up to the team that they're on their way back.

(get the good painkillers, please.) ]

Car's meeting us on the side.

[ Alec works the lock in the same way he did the first one, and once he carefully gathers Peter up again, they slip through the gate and away from the manor altogether. Alec barely stops himself from breathing a sigh of relief; carefully tugging Peter closer to make sure he’s in no danger of slipping from his grip and crashing onto the pavement.

They wait for their ride in an oddly comfortable sort of silence- so much so that Alec has to check to see if Peter’s finally passed out. Once the car arrives and the two of them are safely nestled inside, the ride passes in much of the same way.

Once they get back to the ship, it’s Drax who helps Peter out of the car, who takes him up and inside, presumably depositing in whatever passes for a medbay on the small vessel. That leaves Alec to his own devices, which suits him fine. He hands over the data to Rocket and heads straight for the shower. The hot water does a little to soothe his aches and clear his head, but the soreness still kind of lingers.

Naturally, he wanders into the medical area for some painkillers, and catches a glimpse of Peter there. ]

How’s the rib?

[ It slips out, probably out of some misguided sense of sympathy for the guy, though he knows they should go back to avoiding each other. Peter definitely got the worst part of this night, and he can’t help but feel kind of bad for the guy. ]

[ His focus slips in and out as they make their way back – not quite the gentle embrace of unconsciousness, as much as he'd like it, but something close to it. Enough that the trip is mostly a painful sort of blur, rather than anything worse.

The car ride makes him feel muzzy. Lazy, still. And he leans against the side of the car in that half-asleep state, breathes through the dull aches and sharp, shooting pain in his side without further complaint. By the time they're back on the Milano, that drowsiness recedes, with Peter heading one way and Alec heading the other. That pain slips into sharper focus when they part; Peter blames it on the reality of treated wounds hurting just as much as getting the damn things in the first place.

By the time Alec drops in, Peter is tucked into a seat in the corner his coat, vest, and tie draped over another chair nearby; he's waiting for Gamora or Drax, who are currently in the cargo area, turning the place upside down for that disgusting salve they use to promote healing. (Peter's pretty sure they used the last of it in their last sparring session and told them as much, but they both swear there's a jar of it somewhere on the ship.)

The top few buttons of his collar are unfastened, and he unconsciously runs the tips of his fingers across the invisible band on his throat. On the table beside him sits a mug filled with a steaming, foul-smelling brew – some tea Drax swears by as a painkiller. He glances up as Alec enters, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a shadow of a smile at his question. ]

Ohhh. [ He drags the word out on a quiet exhale. ] Definitely broken.

[ He presses an ice pack against his side, huffs out a quiet laugh. ]

Steel-toed boots. They get me every time.

[ He sucks in a breath between his teeth ] I've been there. You have my sympathy.

[ Another huff of a laugh. It occurs to Peter that he's suppose to be surly, short-spoken, and just all-around unpleasant with Alec on principle, but he can't dredge up the energy enough to give a shit. ]

The rib I can deal with. It's the nursing I can do without.

[ This, with a quick nod to the tea at his side, largely untouched and still hot. ]

Ever had someone try to kill you with home remedies? 'Cause it ain't fun.

[ For Alec's part, he knows it would be best if he left, but it just doesn't seem as important right now as it had before.

He takes a step or two closer, peering into the mug and wrinkling his nose. ] Jesus. Don't tell me you're supposed to drink that stuff. It smells awful.

The smell's not so bad, honestly. Not compared to the taste.

A nice bouquet of rotted wood, motor oil, and rancid meat, with just the barest hints of lemon and bile to round the whole thing out.

[ He nudges the mug forward a little. ]

Wanna try?

Not just no, Peter, but fuck no.

[ There's a bit of good humor to his tone, alongside his usual sarcasm. The fact that Peter's first name just kind slipped out totally escapes his notice. ]

You should definitely drink it, though. I think it'll be good for you.

Fuck off.

[ Instinct draws the words from him again, but his exhaustion saps the heat from them.

Still, he does lift the mug with his free hand, because if Drax comes back and sees he hasn't touched it, he's sure to turn the Dad Gaze on him. It's an indignity he doesn't want to suffer tonight.

Still, he can't bring himself to drink, and the disgust is clear in the tight set of his lips, in the corners of his eyes. ]

Did you need actually something, or did you just wanna kick me while I was down, too?

[ He gives the small bottle of pain pills he dredged up a little shake. ] I spent my night carrying some poor asshole around. Wasn't real great on my back.

[ Peter casts him a flat, unimpressed look. ]

Go to hell.

[ Again, the words are familiar, but they lack their usual heat, their usual shape. Blunter, softer, flatter. ]

Keep that shit up, and I might throw this mug at you. Then you'd be burned, sore, and smell like shit.

[ He snorts, and a smirk somehow makes its way onto his face ] Go a head, but I've got a shield, so you're just gonna end up with a big mess and a second cup of tea when Drax finds out you ruined the first one.

[ His expression immediately pinches, and he glares down at the mug in his hand, apparently still wondering if he ought to take his chances.

It is a long, long thoughtful moment.

But eventually he thinks better of it, scowling at the dark, brackish substance. ]

I hate you.

[ the tea? alec? in all likelihood, he means both. ]

Edited 2016-11-03 01:16 (UTC)

[ He assumes Peter at least means him so. ]

I know.

Now go on and drink up.

[ The scowl gets directed at Alec this time, before he takes long inhale, a long exhale. Then another set. Then a third.

Then just. Takes a mouthful.

He very, very nearly spits it up, but he clamps a hand over his mouth. Sheer willpower alone makes him swallow the tea, forcing it down his throat, but he gags once it's clear. ]

Don't— [ And there's a definite throaty quality to his voice, now, pitched low and threaded with disgust. ] —don't you say a goddamn word.

[ That reaction was visceral enough to make Alec's skin crawl. He gives a little shudder, face scrunching in sympathy ]

You want me to pour that down the drain for you or--?

Don't bother. He'll know.

[ He tried that once, but the smell was pungent enough that even with about five minutes of running water straight down the drain and masking it with soap, Drax took one sniff and leveled a heavy, pinning stare at Quill. ]

Vile as this shit is, it does actually work.

[ This time he ventures a sip, and while he doesn't gag, his face does immediately sour as he forces himself to swallow. ]

Granted— [ He makes a disgusted noise – ugh – as he wipes at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. ] —that's probably 'cause you're too distracted with not throwing up, but still.

As if I needed more of an incentive not to get injured around here.

[ He pops a couple of the pain pills out of the bottle and into his mouth before putting the bottle away. He should probably go, considering he just took care of his whole reason for being there, but there's something in him that's making him reluctant to ]

Where did Drax and Gamora get off to anyway?

Digging through the cargo bay on a wild goose chase.

[ For his part, Peter doesn't seem to mind the company. (A part of him says he should bite and snap like a wild dog on a chain, bark and snarl until Alec just goes the hell away, but the voice is distant and soft. Buried beneath layers and layers of comfort and exhaustion.)

He sets the mug aside to gesture to the ice pack. His shirt covers the damage, but his torso is a mess of dark splotches, concentrated on his left side. ]

Gamora's got some ointment she likes to use on bruising. They used it up all up last week, but those assholes never listen to me.

[ Ah. And with Rocket currently pouring over the files that Alec gave him (and Groot presumably being a shoulder Groot to Rocket), that meant it was just the two of them. He should find that more worrying than he does ]

They sure like to fuss over you, don't they?

Comes part and parcel with being the weak link.

[ Well. These days, Groot sits just beneath him on the "keep encased in plastic bubble wrap at all costs" totem pole, but considering the guy literally came back from death – or some form of him did, at least – it's not much of a consolation.

And the statement is a little more honest than he would normally go for, especially with Alec, evidenced by the barest edge of bitterness in his words. Can't seem to care about that, either, not with that warm edge of relaxation returning.

The tea, he thinks. Or maybe that exhaustion coming back in full force. ]

Can't all be tricked out with mods and magic, I guess.

[ Alec's eyebrows go up, and he's struck by the candidness of that statement. Granted, in a group of alien assassins and modded whatevers and a tree, he supposes that lone human would feel a little bit like the ordinary one. The fragile one. ]

Just cause you can't punch a guy through a wall doesn't make you the weak link, you know.

[ He snorts out a laugh ]

Says the guy who nearly threw a dude through a wall tonight. And zapped another dude to kingdom come.

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