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Juno hasn’t had a bad day in a long time. Okay, maybe he has, but not a bad-bad day, not a self-sacrifice-and-gun-fights bad day, not a what-if-I-crash-my-car bad day. He especially hadn’t had an I-need-to-hurt-myself-and-I-don’t-care-who-I-take-with-me kind of bad day.
Except today. Today felt like all of those wrapped into one and multiplied by a thousand.
The old Juno would have given in. He would have entertained the idea for all of no time at all and then dived in head first with his eyes wide open. Juno-now (he wasn’t a new Juno, he was just… now, here) still entertained the idea, hell, he might even wonder why he wanted to do whatever it was. But he wouldn’t do it. Probably.
He definitely wouldn't hurt someone else, no matter what he did.
~~~
It had started after the last job, which had gone quite spectacularly wrong.
Juno and Peter hadn’t gone in expecting an easy job - stealing a painting off the wall of a crowded ballroom was obviously going to be difficult - but that had gone off without a hitch, had gone off easier than the last time they did such a heist. No, the real issue came when a different thief had tried to steal a vase and gotten caught. It wasn’t even a nice vase, definitely not nice enough to die over.
It had turned into a messy hostage situation, Juno’s HCPD training and his own career as professional hostage kicking in as he tried desperately to find a way to get everyone out.
You can’t save everyone, Juno.
Three civilians and the thief had wound up dead, and more injured than Juno’s guilt ridden brain could count, and by the time he and Peter were back on the Carte Blanche, Juno could barely speak for the shock of what had happened. Neither Buddy nor Peter said anything when Peter debriefed with no input from Juno.
Buddy did, however, decide to put off selling the painting for a little while, giving everyone some time to relax. This is where Juno’s bad day had started.
~~~
In the timeless limbo between jobs, it was easy to lose yourself: Rita in her streams with Jet; Buddy and Vespa in their wedding plans, and Peter and Juno in each other. Juno couldn’t help the feeling he was losing himself alone.
He knows he should have said something to Peter, or Rita, or even Vespa if he was desperate, but he was too busy trying to convince himself had it under control.
His mind had been racing in loose circles, chasing empty thoughts and half-memories of every time Juno had fucked up, every time he had let someone die, every time he had almost let someone die.
Benten. Yasmin. Alessandra.
His head felt heavy with it, weighing him down into a feeling he thought he had long forgotten, numbing him so he couldn’t feel his way out. All he could find in the mess was the handy how-to he had written himself.
How to pretend your fine when you absolutely, totally are - by Juno Steel
~~~
He had been doing a good job, if he did say so himself. Even if he and the rest of the ship knew that was a lie.
Rita had been hovering more, not smothering him, just letting him know she was there; Jet never mentioned when Juno came and sat silently with him for a few hours, handing him tools when he asked. Buddy had outright told him that if he wanted to talk then she would always have time, ‘always, darling, just say the word’. Even Vespa had been a little nicer - their typically aggressive banter becoming more like a strangely aggressive therapy.
And Peter. Peter was Juno’s anchor. He always was.
But he could only pretend for so long.
~~~
Tonight, Juno wanted to drive - being inside was not helping, and so, from one moment to the next, Juno found himself behind the wheel, Peter in the passenger seat. It was late and Juno couldn't remember what planet they were on anymore.
The car’s single head light shone dimly on the road in front of them and Juno stared blankly through the windshield, muscle memory alone stopping him from crashing.
He used to do this, he used to drive for hours, let his numbness fill the car till he forgot he was driving and drifted mentally, drifted physically…
He wanted to drift today. He wanted to feel weightless.
The repetitive splashing rounds of the wheels sent Juno spiralling again, an endless list of people he had failed circling through his mind over and over and over again and goddammit he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, he needed it to stop, even if just for a second.
“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”
~~~
Peter had noticed the shift in Juno immediately after the job. He had seen his smiles become more strained, his eyes were hazy and unfocussed, movements slowed - as if he was drifting away, moving through a time Peter wasn’t quite in.
He stayed close to Juno, and when Juno suggested a drive, Peter thought maybe this could be a good time to talk to him. But Juno had said nothing. They had been driving for hours. The suns had set and Juno didn’t seem to be heading home anytime soon, so Peter was about to speak, about to ask Juno what he could do.
“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”
Peter was silent for a second, not quite sure he had heard Juno properly. Juno didn’t even seem aware that he had spoken aloud, nor did he seem to remember Peter was even there. He’s almost certain that the car was speeding up.
“Juno, can you pull over please, love?”
The car swerved slightly, Juno startled at Peter’s voice, and Peter reached out and grabbed the wheel, pulling them back onto the road, “Juno, you need to pull over.”
The car slowed and, after what felt like a lifetime, came to a stop, a small cloud of dust flying up from under the wheels.
“I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be fine.” Juno’s hands were gripped tightly on the wheel in a way that could have only been painful.
“Why don’t we get some fresh air, and then we can talk?”
Slowly, even slower than in the past week, Juno climbed out of the car and sat with Peter on the bonnet, staring up at the sky.
“I should be fine,” he said again, “I’ve been fine and now… and now I'm not fine!” Juno choked on a sob. God, he hated being vulnerable.
Peter considered this for a moment, “I know this is going to sound cliché, dear, but you don’t have to be okay. You’re allowed to be sad and angry, and-”
“But I am always angry, Nureyev. Always. I am angry at myself because I keep letting people get hurt and get dead. I’m angry at my mom and I’m angry at every goddamn person I meet and I don’t even know why half the time. There’s just- there’s just rage, and I can control it, better than I could before, but I don't- I don't know if I want to anymore. I just want to let go.”
“Why can’t you let it out, Juno?”
“I’ve done that before. Blind rage is how you get got,” Juno very carefully didn’t look at Peter when he said, “Letting go is how… letting go is how I nearly got myself. I’ve come so close to leaving this place, finally getting some damned rest. I don’t know what kept me here.”
Peter tried not to be too shocked at the almost wistful tone Juno used - they could talk about that another day, for now Peter just prompted, “You’re still here?”
Juno laughed humourlessly, “Yeah, that’s because I always got stupid lucky, and one day that’s gonna bite me in the ass. It was always other people getting got, never me,” He laid back against the windscreen, legs kicking softly at the bumper, “God, I’ve killed so many people.”
“Did you, though? Did you kill them all or did you blame yourself for not being able to do the impossible? Did you blame yourself for not being able to save every single person you met - a task which, I might add, is quite impossible, love.”
He shook his head and kept staring at the stars, looking for answers in the constellations. Peter laid next to him.
It was a few minutes before Juno broke the silence, “Can we stay here a little while, before we go back?”
Peter would’ve stayed there all night if that’s what Juno needed.
“Would you tell me a story, Juno? Maybe about someone you saved?”
Reluctantly, Juno began to tell Peter about an eccentric real estate lawyer and her exploding, tuna-brick-loving cat, absently tracing patterns on the back of Peter’s hand.
They laid there for almost an hour, but the cool night was interrupted by Peter’s comms beeping twice, signifying a message.
Is everything okay darling? You’ve been gone a while.
As good as it can be right now. We’ll be back soon.
“Who’s that?” Juno mumbled sleepily, his gaze shifting to Peter.
“It was Buddy. Perhaps we should head back to the Carte Blanche.”
Juno nodded, sliding off the car but stopping short halfway to the driver side.
“Would you like me to drive, dear?.”
Juno looked like he wanted to protest, like he wanted to tell Peter that he wouldn’t actually crash, but instead he just nodded and tossed the keys over the car.
~~~
Peter knew that they would have to talk properly, they had to talk about Juno trusting him and the rest of their family; they would definitely have to talk about Juno’s allusions to his… more self destructive tendencies. For now, though, Juno dozing on his shoulder, the night road leading them home, would be enough to put both of their minds at rest for the night.