[ Little Pete is goddamn lucky the blood is mostly dry, otherwise Peter would have totally flicked a little bit at the kid and possibly stained his weird, lopsided couch in the process.
“Little Pete”? More like “Little Shit.”
But he heads into the shower, tries to make it quick, except for a little while, he’s frozen. The blood and dirt spin away into the drain, and he stares at nothing as the hot water hits him, and— when Peter was a kid, when he was trailing after Mom and Gramps during frequent visits to the doctor, he’d fall slightly out of sync with the world, would end up numb and detached and—
He shakes himself when he feels himself falling into that familiar trance, dragging a hand down his face.
When he steps out, he’s— clean. Not better, and still slightly damp around the edges, but not in danger of leaving a rust-colored, flaking trail in his wake. The kid is passed the fuck out, so Peter moves quietly, going for the medkit – just to make it look like it was disturbed, not with any real intention to use what’s inside. He can dress his wounds at home.
He pauses, though, and nosy little fucker that Peter can sometimes be, he spies the list. Curiosity gets the best of him, and—
Yeah. He’s totally reading it. That’s what you get when give an asshole free reign with your stuff. When he’s done, he slips the list back in place, glancing over at the kid.
He hopes Pete made it through. He hopes he was one of the folks left on Titan, whoever that might be. Life is wildly unfair, and Peter knows that firsthand from being metaphorically kicked in the balls by it, over and over and over. But he hopes the kid is alright, in the end.
(Though with a list like this? Outlook not so good.)
After that, Peter will try to slip out silently. ]
no subject
“Little Pete”? More like “Little Shit.”
But he heads into the shower, tries to make it quick, except for a little while, he’s frozen. The blood and dirt spin away into the drain, and he stares at nothing as the hot water hits him, and— when Peter was a kid, when he was trailing after Mom and Gramps during frequent visits to the doctor, he’d fall slightly out of sync with the world, would end up numb and detached and—
He shakes himself when he feels himself falling into that familiar trance, dragging a hand down his face.
When he steps out, he’s— clean. Not better, and still slightly damp around the edges, but not in danger of leaving a rust-colored, flaking trail in his wake. The kid is passed the fuck out, so Peter moves quietly, going for the medkit – just to make it look like it was disturbed, not with any real intention to use what’s inside. He can dress his wounds at home.
He pauses, though, and nosy little fucker that Peter can sometimes be, he spies the list. Curiosity gets the best of him, and—
Yeah. He’s totally reading it. That’s what you get when give an asshole free reign with your stuff. When he’s done, he slips the list back in place, glancing over at the kid.
He hopes Pete made it through. He hopes he was one of the folks left on Titan, whoever that might be. Life is wildly unfair, and Peter knows that firsthand from being metaphorically kicked in the balls by it, over and over and over. But he hopes the kid is alright, in the end.
(Though with a list like this? Outlook not so good.)
After that, Peter will try to slip out silently. ]