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“Dammit!”
Peter watched with tired,dull eyes as Jon banged on the wall again.There was a half second where he was sickeningly surprised it hadn’t make the dull thump of wood being slammed.He breathed in deep,almost relieved to smell dirt instead of dust,and spoke.
“It’s no use,Jon.Believe me.I’ve been in this scenario enough times to know it’s no use.”
His brand burned like it was still raw and new.His hand found the loose button he kept in his pocket and began rolling,rolling,rolling it between his fingers.The pressure was nearly soothing.
It was odd,to be severed from The Lonely like this.
“I- I can’t-“ Jon swallowed,slid to the floor,“I can’t die,Peter.Not here.Not like this-“
“Of course you can.”
“-Martin needs me.”
Peter rested his head on the wall behind him.Gave a long,slow,tuneless hum.He felt the same,almost.He wished he could tell Tadeas he wasn’t coming back.Wished he could formally give the Tundra over to him.No one in his core crew had family,or friends,or anywhere to live.They had enough money to buy houses,of course,but everything after that?They’d be on their own.
“Well,throwing yourself against the wall won’t do anything about that.Unless you’d rather sacrifice yourself to Choke than Filth.”
“How do you-“
“I’m a Lukas.Esoteric knowledge was hammered into me from a young age the same as any knowledge was hammered into you.As for Martin,he’s a smart lad.He can handle himself.”
There was silence,then.Peter tried to not think about the memory of a bundle in his arms,chubby little hands grabbing at his face,tucking a seven year old boy into his bed and brushing back strawberry blonde curls to kiss his brow.He thought about not thinking about it so hard that he missed the first half of Jon’s sentence.
“-to handle himself”
“Hm?”
“He shouldn’t have to handle himself.He deserves care.”
“Mm.Well,he’s not getting it from you any time soon.”
He leaned against the wall fully.Felt a jolt of pain as dirt pressed against fabric pressed against irritated scar tissue and stifled a wince as he stood straight again.He could still remember the pain of it,even all these years later.When he’d had cloth jammed in his mouth and hands had grabbed his young body and pinned him down as the family sigil was seared into his shoulder blade and it hurt it hurts it hurts make them stop mama tell them to stop-
“Peter!”
The captain startled,looking at Jon again.
“Yes?”
“Did you listen to a word I said?”
“…….Yes?”
Jon sighed heavily.
“Right.Right.Great,stuck with someone who won’t even listen to me.”
Peter shrunk,and nothing more was said for a long,long time.