exhale [open]

[firstroar]

CHARACTERS: Blue, any
LOCATION: infirmary, mess hall, sun room, Blue's dormitory
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: downtime (+dream/memshare option)
WARNINGS: mention of terminal illness, medical treatments/needles


Disorienting moments blurred together in the chaos in and outside of himself, with the context left only to his physical senses and the alarming news coming in from the earpiece. Blue can only hold on and endure as the train is rocked, as the car he's trapped in slows to a crawl, as the noise keeps coming in over the signal...

Until he doesn't. Until his eyes have to wince to readjust to the reflective surfaces and glaring light of Ximilia, until he must shudder and brace against the feeling of his psionics flooding back to him, bringing forth the anguish, fury, confusion, and betrayal flooding the place as much as the bodies. It leaves Blue in something of a shock - one that's well and fine to be ignored, since hard focus on him would likely just rattle him more, and anyway, his own attention keeps getting forcibly redirected toward a fairly unified notion.

Newt.

Newt, monsters...the roiling, gnashing form that bit back when he reached out - is that? What happened? He doesn't know. He just sees Newton getting carried away while he and the rest are left to linger undirected.

---

The exhaustion creeps back in steadily, bringing with it the old awareness of a failing body that must work harder for less of what's necessary. He puts up no audible fuss about having to be ferried to the infirmary, about getting pinched yet again with needles for fluids that compensate for what he can't intake himself, but his insides are raging. Bodily, he aches. Mentally, he is caging lions: Frustration bubbles over in the face of how unfair it is that he had been given time and means to stand on his own two feet and move about as a hale body, only to have no means or power to do much more than rummage a few suitcases. This isn't how Soldier Blue could help. Why did he have to have his psionics taken away.

It's infuriating to ruminate on, and that fury, while muted externally, still informs the way his brow knits, the way he goes still and quiet, bracing against shuddering, aching waves of discomfort. Now and then, it makes simple objects near him rattle or lift off surfaces just barely when his psionics are up and lacking any other means to vent.

It's worse when those psionics are off, when he feels himself alone in his own mind - that's when he tries to gravitate toward populated spaces: The infirmary, the mess, the sun room...somewhere with familiar-seeming people in that unfamiliar-seeming state of mind. The frustration remains, but at this point, that's familiar, too.

In those spaces, at least, his focus can be pulled outside of himself and toward others, regardless of if their feelings of frustration resonate with his or not. Sometimes he wants to commiserate...and sometimes he wants to simply try and take care of the burdens of others, to feel as though he can leave some good behind despite the decay he's saddled with.

That orb never did respond. Nothing changed. Not for the better, anyway. What else...is he supposed to do? It can't be to just die quietly; he won't allow that.

---

Just as before, more and more time will be spent bedridden than he'd like. In sleep, should there still be hours left with his psionics active, his mind can be pulled out and toward others at rest, too, and he may find himself walking their dreams just as much as his own. The bleed over doesn't even have to be terribly seamless, since to a sleeping mind, anything and nothing can make sense anyway.

He's just...there, now. There, somewhere with someone, be it happy or sad.

Comments

[spacedisaster]

Yes, I brought more than one bottle. But don't worry about it.

[ He smiles at that. Count on Blue to always be looking out for others. Peter looks into the bag, pulls out a small glass bottle of orange juice and twists the caps easily. He pauses after that, looking down at the bottle, then at his friend. ]

Ah, do you want me to help or...? [ He's not sure how weak Blue is feeling and doesn't want to insult him by making any assumptions, but he has to ask. ]

[firstroar]

I might spill it if I try. [pride can be put aside for a little while, right? or, rather...he'd like to keep a little pride for himself aside and not look utterly feeble in front of his worried friend.

he'll accept it when Peter's popped it open, though.] Thank you, Peter. Though...I ought to be the one coming with peace offerings, right? For having scared you so badly.

[spacedisaster]

Got it. Let me take care of it.

[ This too, he also has experience doing, even if it's been literal decades. There was a point too, at the very end, when Meredith could barely lift a hand and walking was out of the question, no matter how bony and light her body has become. 

Peter brings the bottle to Blue's lips gently with a hand, placing the other on the man's shoulder to help him incorporate himself a little bit. ]

You didn't mean to wander into my dreams, you don't need to apologize. Does this happen often? Accidentally walking into other people's mind when you dream?

[firstroar]

[he takes the bottle in both hands afterward, brow pinched a bit. it's not pain - it's just that he hadn't had anything as flavorful in a while, so it takes acclimating to. his expression smooths out while Peter talks, and he nods gently.]

Sleeping Mu minds wander...just as human ones do. Only...Mu have the means to wander further, and mingle.

I do appreciate...that you didn't bite. [a yell is more palatable than teeth.]

[spacedisaster]

[ Peter leans back on the chair, expression failing to mask his worry before he can scold his face into neutrality. He regrets not having something in his hands to fidget with. His Zune is in his pocket because he always carries it with him, and he pulls the small device out as they talk, twirling the earphone's cord between his fingers. ]

Dreamwalkers, uh. I can see that is pretty cool too, but startling when you don't expect someone else in your mind. I don't like unannounced visitors, it's not just you. [ He says that almost apologetically, but it is the honest truth. ] Bite? Did someone bite you in a dream? The fuck. How???

[firstroar]

[mildly, reassuring:] I understand. Many have their reasons, known and unknown... What I do isn't natural everywhere. And where it is...some have defenses against it.

[spacedisaster]

[ Peter is still looking a little bewildered, but after thinking about it for a second, he realizes that people like Rocket will bite first and ask questions later. ]

That makes sense. I hope others here at the station had a nicer reaction than I did.

[firstroar]

Please...don't worry about it, Peter. It's alright. You even...came to visit, despite that. You're very kind to me.

[spacedisaster]

Of course I'm here, you're my friend.

[ He turns a hand through his hair, looking away in slight embarrassment. He doesn't think that doing this for Blue is something he should be thanked for. But it's also relieving that Blue understands how uncomfortable clinics and hospitals are for him. Looking back at him, Peter gives a tired smile. ]

If you want to lie down and sleep some more though, to rest, feel free. I won't be going anywhere, I promise.

[firstroar]

[he smiles, though there's a pained twinge to it at that suggestion.]

You don't think...it'll do me harm to stay awake just a little longer, right? I spend so much time here asleep as it is. I don't get to talk to you or the others...to spend time learning about you... When's the last time I could keep my eyes open to watch one of those films you like...?

[spacedisaster]

No, no, of course not. I get it, really.

[ Maybe in more ways than he wants to admit. When you know you might not have much time left, you want to make every second count and matter. Peter is only worried about Blue overexerting himself, but simply talking can't do him harm. ]

We can talk about anything you want. Or I could even explain to you some movies from my universe, or some myths, I've done that before. Do you have fairy tales in your world?

[firstroar]

[Blue considers his ask; it's something posed to him before.

what was it, again? that Jomy spoke to, long ago...]

...Peter Pan.

[spacedisaster]

[ The corner of Peter's lips upturn and he gives a nod. ]

Ah, yes, I'm familiar with that one. The boy who never grew up, living adventures in Neverland. Did you hear about him here, or the book exist in your universe as well?

[firstroar]

It exists, yes. A Mu child... My successor, Jomy...he encountered a Mu child who believed he was that boy. That Jomy would take him to Neverland.

[spacedisaster]

[ Peter too used to daydream like that, only with tv actors like David Hasselhoff rather than fairy tales character but he gets it. The wish of a different life, waiting for a savior, something or someone who gives you faith. ]

And did Jomy help that boy? Did he bring him somewhere were he was happy?

[firstroar]

[Blue's expression once again pinches with some apology; it seems any facet he can offer is tinged with sadness, whether it's because of his past...or his present state.]

Jomy was...still so new to his powers then. We had to flee that planet very quickly, having been discovered and attacked. There was no time to bring the child along.

[he closes his eyes, head tilting back against the pillow behind it.]

Those times... I couldn't see it all. It went by like a blink. I was asleep. But when my eyes opened again...[his eyes open in tandem with that remark.] new children were there. Natural-born Mu. The first of their kind.

[spacedisaster]

[ By now, Peter is used to Blue's past experiences being less than stellar. He doesn't mind hearing about them, but it does make his chest hurt to know how bad things were for Blue's people, back in their universe. ]

Ah, poor kid. That's too bad. Often we don't have enough choices and we need to pick the lesser of two evils. They all know it well. [ Peter watches Blue, wondering if he's comfortable enough, or if he might need another blanket or pillow. He's still paying attention, of course, and then smiles at the last line, meeting his friend's eye. ]

The first of many, I hope. A new start. Life often finds a way to thrive despite the hardships. Sometimes it's a matter of opportunity and luck.

[firstroar]

That's right... [Blue's gaze might be distant, but the hand closest to Peter does turn palm out, offering without demanding.] That's what I was fighting for, for so long. It does...make me feel a touch guilty, given how selfish I've become since. How much happiness I've been grasping for myself, instead of others.

[spacedisaster]

[ Peter stares at the hand for a second in complete silence, wondering if Blue knows about his mother's latest moments. How he failed her back then, because he was scared of the reality he was forced to face at such a young age.

Decades later, he is much older, yet the dreading feeling is the same at first. but he knows what needs to be done now, so he takes Blue's hand, and entwines their fingers together. ]

Living your life fully isn't selfish. You're not being insensitive to your people's problems just because you are allowing yourself to enjoy the good moments. I'm sure that your friends might want this for you as well, Blue.

[firstroar]

[the significance of a simple holding of his hand isn't entirely lost on Blue; he can feel the trepidation, guilt, and fear that's coiled in Peter's heart despite all of his earnest efforts to do the right thing. but Blue doesn't recoil, instead just gently squeezing at Peter's fingers, present and still alive to do so.]

There would be some arguing about it, certainly. [he smiles faintly, looking back at him.] Zel would demand to know what that means for the rest of them, everyone still searching for Terra. Ella might wonder, too, but she wouldn't speak so abrasively. And Harley...would remind him I'm Soldier no more, to trust in Jomy.

The idea I could still live and not pour that live out for all of Mukind... I don't know if that would even be fathomed.

[spacedisaster]

[ The squeezing helps, warmth shared through the contact of their hand. Peter is kind of a walking furnace, so he hopes he's helping Blue feel a bit better. ]

Families always argue. [ Peter sounds very sure about that fact, having experienced it first hand on many, many occasions and in different ways. ] I'm pretty sure Mus don't try to bite each other, unlike what Rocket does when he's losing an argument. So that's a winning point in your favor.

You already gave them everything, Blue. You need to have faith in them, and believe they can achieve their own goals from now on. It's similar to a father watching their children move on with their lives. Now that you have a second chance, do something solely for yourself. You earned it.

[firstroar]

Like a father, huh...

[Blue lets his head rest back against the headboard, closing his eyes.]

I used to wonder about things like that. What it felt like...to have had parents. So few of the Mu kept those memories, Jomy among them. If...I've done right by them, especially those children...I hope it can make up for what they lost.

[he breathes out a faint laugh as he looks back at Peter.] Forgive me, Peter. Those kinds of melancholy thoughts...I have them a lot lately.

[spacedisaster]

Why not? You're old enough to be one, for sure. [ Peter teases,  leaning back on his chair but not letting go of Blue's hand. ]

I know we had wildly different lives, but I get that feeling. Wishing and wondering about the parents you never had, what your family could have been. But families of choice are just as important, if not more, than blood ones.

[ He smiles back at Blue and shakes his head. ]

It's all good. Get it out of your system. It's good to talk.

[firstroar]

Yes, but... you were going to talk, weren't you. [his head tilts slightly.] You asked me what stories I knew. What were you going to tell me?

[spacedisaster]

Oh, right, I did mention the movies and myths. [ With his free hand, Peter rubs at the corner of his eyes. Blue mentioned Peter Pan, so perhaps a story along the same lines might be a good option. ]Do you know about Pinocchio? He was a wooden puppet that became a real boy.

[ Peter has only seen the Disney 1940's version, so maybe what he remembers of the story is not accurate to the book, but it's still something. ]

There was an old woodcarver who didn't have any kids but wanted one, so he carved a marionette of a boy and named him Pinocchio. That night, he looked up at the sky and saw a really bright star, and wished for the puppet to be real. Because I guess that's what you do when all the other options are exhausted, ask celestial bodies for a hand.  Anyway, the guy was in luck because a blue fairy heard him and decided to use her magic to bring Pinocchio to life, promising the kid that if he was honest and brave, she will transform his body into flesh and bone. 

[ Peter pauses for a moment to see if Blue is following or if he seems bored by the whole thing. When he was back with the Guardians, he told these sorts of stories to Groot when he was growing up, but perhaps Blue is already familiar with the tale. ]

Okay, so, here's the kicker...Pinocchio's nose grows when he lies. And since he also has no idea of right and wrong, the kid is kind of a walking disaster, that happens a lot.  The Fairy calls for a small animal to act as his conscience for the time being and to give him advice on how to behave. The little guy's name is Jimmy, and he's a....erm.. [ Peter's memory fails him, because it's been more than 30 years since he watched the movie. He knows Jimmy was some sort of insect, and that it started with C. So, by that logic: ]....a cockroach.  Yeah, Jimmy Cockroach.