They're yokai, not demons. [Peter says a little tersely. He glances back at his and Leo's room, wanting to duck back in again. He ends up trailing slightly after Fitzberg, but keeping his distance.
He really didn't want to have this kind of conversation today. Moving the conversation away from the door wouldn't be a bad idea given Leo is still sleeping in there.] There always has been a good balance of authority between everyone. We're all equal here.
Seems odd to me is all.
How exactly? We're all trying to survive this war together. [Peter questions back with a frown.]
With how much work humans are doing, feels like those yokukai demons are getting it easy.
Mr. Fitzberg, is this really what you want to talk about?
[Fitzberg keeps leading Peter further away, a turn into this alcove a little away. Alone, quiet so they can have this private talk. He's so concerned.]
It is, actually. I've only been here a week or two, but the things I'm seeing... [He shakes his head. Clearly concerned.] I just worry about human needs being drowned out by some of the, erm. Louder voices up high.
[Peter crosses his arms over his chest, trying to not outwardly yell at the man, but his patience is a little frayed.
He needs to be patient. What would May do? Its something he always asks himself.]
I can promise you, Mr. Fitzberg, I hear everyone out. People can and do come to me when they need something. [He always makes as much time as he can for anyone who needs someone to listen. It's one of the things people know about him.] Human needs are being met.
It doesn't seem that way, I've talked with a few people, they feel silenced.
Do they-? I'd be happy to talk with them and see what I can do.
[He's watching Commander Parker, closing himself off.... Already on the defensive. That youkai behind that door has got this man wrapped around his weird reptile finger. Can't even keep the man satisfied if the sullen looks earlier in the day mean anything.]
I was elected to come talk to you. See if something could be worked out or arranged.
[He eyes those marks again.]
Though... Seems you've got your own preferences, don't you?
[Peter almost asks just how Fitzberg was elected, when the next question throws him off base. Out of all the things Peter expected, it really wasn't that.
It had been a long time since he actually dealt with anyone behaving this way about yokai.]
Excuse me-? [He can't keep some of the offense out of his voice. Fitzberg's expression is neutral enough it makes Peter feel more irritated by the minute.]
You're with that- turtle of yours.
My husand, yes. [He forces himself to take a breath, brushing a hand across his shirt vaguely. Lingering bite marks from Leo a bit more visible without Peter being completely aware.
Peter would rather just sharply end the conversation, but he tries for something diplomatic.] Mr. Fitzberg, I think it might be a good idea if we talk later. You and the other people with concerns. I want to hear you out, but, we're both not communicating with each other very well.
Right now isn't the best time, and I feel like we're not getting off on the right foot here.
I think you're the one not hearing us, Commander Parker.
How much of that is Parker's willing choice... and how much is a demonic monster keeping him there in that place?
Fitzberg's hand at his hip shifts just slightly, folding behind his back now.]
Did he do that? [He nods to the marks.] Your... husband? Because, honestly, Commander Parker, if you can't look at the facts objectively, we may have to take matters to our own hands.
[It's a flash, his arm flexing for a moment and then a shot in the silence, hand holding the gun out in front of him.]
[The world tilts on its axis, and Peter's spider sense lights up under his skin. A loud warning that blares in the back of his mind.
He feels what is going to happen. The danger that he can't completely avoid. Every possibility unfolds immediately before him before disappearing again. There are choices he needs to make.
The look on his face isn't horrified, confused or scared, it's knowing.
Peter's body moves without him. The close proximity between the two of them in the narrow hallway means the shot hits his midsection, but he's faster than Fitzberg. He will prevent any other shots from happening.
He slams the man into the wall with enough strength to dent it. His hand presses tightly into Fitzberg's throat, holding him in place as he grabs the gun and breaks it in his other hand.]
[The man's eyes go big when Peter doesn't even seem fazed. His teeth grit and jaw grinds as he's slammed into the wall with a shout. But he watches that gun get broken, eyes wide.]
....You're not human either. You're one of 'em.
[His gaze turns angry, looking back at Peter's face.]
[Peter grits his teeth, tightening his grip on the man's throat. He is careful with his grip, even if he's desperate to just shake Fitzberg a little bit.
Being shot hurts. Fuck.]
You're not helping your case here.
[The quiet of the morning doesn't last long. Peter can hear movement in rooms nearby, he already knows they won't be alone for very long. Peter's voice is cool, calm, even as blood starts to stain the fabric of his clothes.]
If you're lucky, you'll be exiled to another colony. If you're not lucky, you're going to be living in the brig.
[The feet of more than a few people coming out of their rooms, voices calling out about having heard a gunshot. It'll take them another minute or two to get here.
But the threat- Fitzberg sneers at him.]
Should've known a colony run by demons only cares about demons.
[He knows everyone will show up and see their so kind and mild mannered Commander Parker holding this unarmed human against the wall threatening him. Maybe if he sticks this out a minute or two longer.]
[Peter blows out a breath. He looks more disappointed than anything else.
Peter knows the injury is serious, incredibly so, but he can't leave until he knows Fitzberg is taken care of.]
I'm not going to debate someone whose first instinct when confronted with something different is shooting someone. I'm more sad for you than anything else.
[He keeps a hold on Fitzberg, knowing the man can't go anywhere. He falls into ingrained habit of taking care of the base, even as he bleeds out. His voice is calm, steady, authoritative. Peter knows how to make it carry.] Shot fired, situation contained, but I need assistance!
[Fitzberg realizes what's happening and spits at him, aiming for his face.]
Talking was my first instinct. Shooting was when it was clear I wasn't gonna get through to a demon loving freak.
[But the footsteps and shouting start heading their direction, familiar feet padding down the hall and rounding the corner. Shouts of Peter's name before hands start reaching.]
[The spit hits his cheek, and Peter barely reacts. His grip tightens a little, to something far stronger than he should let it be. The instinct to protect Leo, their family, the yokai and the people here stronger than the fact he's hurt.
He's bleeding through his shirt at a fast enough rate, Peter knows he's not going to be standing for long. He should be applying pressure to it, but he feels rooted in place.
The familiar hands on him are enough to startle Peter, only then does he realize he's stuck to Fitzberg's throat. He takes some of the man's skin back with him without realizing it as he's pulled away.
He's folded into his husband's grasp, and an order comes out of him without much thought as he sees some soldiers come running around the corner, Donnie, and Mikey mixed in with them.]
Find out where he got that gun! What's left of it is on the floor!
[The man's pained yell at his skin coming off with Peter's fingers echo off the walls of the underground bunker. The brothers immediately push through the crowd to Peter, taking note of the situation. Metal limbs reach down and pick up the remnants of the gun to store away in Donnie's battle shell while Mikey tries to keep everyone a little away to give some space.
The crowd fully parts when Leo shows up, hastily thrown on pajama pants hanging off him and an expression of mixed exhaustion and worry for the worst pulling at his face. People are pulling Peter and some random guy apart, and Leo can see the moment it goes worse before the man yells in pain.
Leo wraps both arms around Peter, tucking him against his chest. But his husband is already (or still?) in commanding mode. So he'll match for now.]
Take him to the brig for now, get a medic for his neck. We'll ask him some questions after the immediate needs are seen to.
['Immediate need' here being peter you fucking got shot and Leo is looking at the blood dripping down the floor, pooled where Peter was standing for too long.]
[Peter can't help the twinge when he realizes he ripped skin off of Fitzberg, but doesn't last long. The stolen skin flutters to the hard concrete floor underfoot as Peter presses the butt of his palm against the entry wound. He isn't even sure if there was an exit wound, he hasn't had a chance to even look.
He can tell his body is already trying to heal over it. Peter has to resist his urge to take care of the problem now, knowing it will just make the situation worse.
He leans into his husband, forcing himself to keep his breathing even.]
We'll get this situation handled. You two go.
[Mikey interjects firmly, parting the crowd further so his brother and Peter can go.]
[Leo feels torn between taking over the situation as commander, and taking care of his husband.
Thankfully, Mikey understands and makes the decision for him. He looks at his little brother, then nods. Leo doesn't waste another second before picking Peter up in his arms bridal style and all but runs to the medbay.]
[Peter groans a little at the shift, gritting his teeth. It has been a few months, maybe a year, since he had been actually shot. A good record for his usual luck.
He keeps the butt of his palm pressed against the wound. Peter knows the blood loss is going to be worse than the actual wound. He's going to hit shock soon enough.]
I know, I'm going to be okay. You're here, it's going to be okay. [He's trying for reassuring, its not quite right.]
[He is in charge of this, they have a med bay and full stock of what they need so Peter is absolutely not digging that out himself with his fingers.
He doesn't even wait for the doors to the medbay to fully open, instead sliding in sideways as soon as there's enough space and getting Peter to a table in the far corner, drawing the curtains around them.]
Okay- Just stay with me another minute and I'll get this.
Right, right- yeah. [Peter agrees automatically. He feels exhausted in so many ways as he lies on the table. This wasn't how their morning was supposed to go. This wasn't even how they were going to spend today.
A tight bubble of frustration builds under his skin. He just wants to scream in frustration, but keeps it to an angry little sound in the back of his throat. An angry vibration Leo can likely hear and feel.
Peter only raises his palm away from the entry wound to rip away the fabric around the wound. The fabric is just caked in drying blood. It stains his hands worse in the process. He drops the fabric to the side, breathing a little more heavily as he tries to stem the blood flow again.]
[Leo is grabbing everything to bring on a tray next to the table. He's doing this alone, so he's got to make the whole procedure as painless and quick as he can make it. Stepping to Peter's injured side, Leo steels himself catching his breath when he sees the wound.
Shit.
Okay.
He carefully starts moving Peter's hand from the wound, replacing it with a small bit of cloth doused in antiseptic. It's painstaking, going through cleaning it, prepping it. Gently, so so gently, pressing on his side to figure out just how deep it went in. Grabbing for the longer needle point tweezers to start - ugh - digging for it. But the whole while, Leo is shushing, whispering assurances. Wishes to god Peter would have let him be knocked out because he doesn't know how long it'll take him to find the stupid thing.
It feels like ages. It's forever before he tweezers catch on the metal. Leo doesn't dare move.]
Okay- I've got it, gonna give it a tug on three. Ready?
[Peter is breathing heavily, eyes half lidded as he yields readily to Leo's touch. The fact they're skipping over the usual argument about anesthesia is enough of a sign of how bad the wound must be.
It's a testament to his self-control that he's still through the procedure. He sticks himself to the table's surface to keep himself from moving. He cries quietly, tears streaking down his cheeks. He bites at his lips, the inside of his cheek, breaking skin in both places.
At some point, Peter feels like he's disconnected from his body, just somewhere else entirely. His mind is adrift, lost in so many thoughts he feels like he could float away from his body entirely.
The question is enough to make Peter come back into focus, he blinks slowly, gazing at his husband again. Awareness settles back in his gaze.]
[Peter's quiet stillness has Leo a little on edge. But this is work he's done a million times now, treating wounds with steady easy hands. That doesn't change, keeping the thought that this is his husband, this was friendly fire inside their home, this came from inside the base out of his mind.
Peter coming back to him at the response almost makes Leo sorry he said anything. Peter was blissfully disassociating to deal with it and now Leo's brought him back for the worst part.
He nods.]
One.... Two... [He clamps the ends of the tweezer around the bullet.]
Three. [And yanks with one deft motion, hoping to get it out in one pull.]
[Peter takes a slow breath in, and another out, trying to prepare for himself.
He is not prepared as the bullet is pulled out. He cries out, choking on the sound.
He turns his head away, biting hard on his lip. Peter raises his hand once, hitting the table with enough force to dent the metal under him. He leaves an impression of his fist behind.]
[Soon as it's out, Leo drops it on the tray next to the table and leans down to press his forehead to Peter's. He's sweaty and shaky from the anxiety and adrenaline coursing through him but he keeps the contact light.]
It's okay- You're okay, nothing to be sorry for. We got it, it's out. Breathe, and I'll stitch it up in a minute.
[Peter wants to touch his husband, but is half afraid he'll somehow hurt him. He's not controlling himself enough.]
Sorry, sorry- I- [He struggles to get the words out, just sobbing a little. He forces himself to suck in a breath, then another, struggling to actively calm himself down.]
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He really didn't want to have this kind of conversation today. Moving the conversation away from the door wouldn't be a bad idea given Leo is still sleeping in there.] There always has been a good balance of authority between everyone. We're all equal here.
Seems odd to me is all.
How exactly? We're all trying to survive this war together. [Peter questions back with a frown.]
With how much work humans are doing, feels like those yokukai demons are getting it easy.
Mr. Fitzberg, is this really what you want to talk about?
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It is, actually. I've only been here a week or two, but the things I'm seeing... [He shakes his head. Clearly concerned.] I just worry about human needs being drowned out by some of the, erm. Louder voices up high.
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He needs to be patient. What would May do? Its something he always asks himself.]
I can promise you, Mr. Fitzberg, I hear everyone out. People can and do come to me when they need something. [He always makes as much time as he can for anyone who needs someone to listen. It's one of the things people know about him.] Human needs are being met.
It doesn't seem that way, I've talked with a few people, they feel silenced.
Do they-? I'd be happy to talk with them and see what I can do.
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I was elected to come talk to you. See if something could be worked out or arranged.
[He eyes those marks again.]
Though... Seems you've got your own preferences, don't you?
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It had been a long time since he actually dealt with anyone behaving this way about yokai.]
Excuse me-? [He can't keep some of the offense out of his voice. Fitzberg's expression is neutral enough it makes Peter feel more irritated by the minute.]
You're with that- turtle of yours.
My husand, yes. [He forces himself to take a breath, brushing a hand across his shirt vaguely. Lingering bite marks from Leo a bit more visible without Peter being completely aware.
Peter would rather just sharply end the conversation, but he tries for something diplomatic.] Mr. Fitzberg, I think it might be a good idea if we talk later. You and the other people with concerns. I want to hear you out, but, we're both not communicating with each other very well.
Right now isn't the best time, and I feel like we're not getting off on the right foot here.
I think you're the one not hearing us, Commander Parker.
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How much of that is Parker's willing choice... and how much is a demonic monster keeping him there in that place?
Fitzberg's hand at his hip shifts just slightly, folding behind his back now.]
Did he do that? [He nods to the marks.] Your... husband? Because, honestly, Commander Parker, if you can't look at the facts objectively, we may have to take matters to our own hands.
[It's a flash, his arm flexing for a moment and then a shot in the silence, hand holding the gun out in front of him.]
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He feels what is going to happen. The danger that he can't completely avoid. Every possibility unfolds immediately before him before disappearing again. There are choices he needs to make.
The look on his face isn't horrified, confused or scared, it's knowing.
Peter's body moves without him. The close proximity between the two of them in the narrow hallway means the shot hits his midsection, but he's faster than Fitzberg. He will prevent any other shots from happening.
He slams the man into the wall with enough strength to dent it. His hand presses tightly into Fitzberg's throat, holding him in place as he grabs the gun and breaks it in his other hand.]
Bad idea.
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....You're not human either. You're one of 'em.
[His gaze turns angry, looking back at Peter's face.]
Should've aimed higher.
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Being shot hurts. Fuck.]
You're not helping your case here.
[The quiet of the morning doesn't last long. Peter can hear movement in rooms nearby, he already knows they won't be alone for very long. Peter's voice is cool, calm, even as blood starts to stain the fabric of his clothes.]
If you're lucky, you'll be exiled to another colony. If you're not lucky, you're going to be living in the brig.
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But the threat- Fitzberg sneers at him.]
Should've known a colony run by demons only cares about demons.
[He knows everyone will show up and see their so kind and mild mannered Commander Parker holding this unarmed human against the wall threatening him. Maybe if he sticks this out a minute or two longer.]
Freak. Youkai demon fucker.
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Peter knows the injury is serious, incredibly so, but he can't leave until he knows Fitzberg is taken care of.]
I'm not going to debate someone whose first instinct when confronted with something different is shooting someone. I'm more sad for you than anything else.
[He keeps a hold on Fitzberg, knowing the man can't go anywhere. He falls into ingrained habit of taking care of the base, even as he bleeds out. His voice is calm, steady, authoritative. Peter knows how to make it carry.] Shot fired, situation contained, but I need assistance!
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Talking was my first instinct. Shooting was when it was clear I wasn't gonna get through to a demon loving freak.
[But the footsteps and shouting start heading their direction, familiar feet padding down the hall and rounding the corner. Shouts of Peter's name before hands start reaching.]
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He's bleeding through his shirt at a fast enough rate, Peter knows he's not going to be standing for long. He should be applying pressure to it, but he feels rooted in place.
The familiar hands on him are enough to startle Peter, only then does he realize he's stuck to Fitzberg's throat. He takes some of the man's skin back with him without realizing it as he's pulled away.
He's folded into his husband's grasp, and an order comes out of him without much thought as he sees some soldiers come running around the corner, Donnie, and Mikey mixed in with them.]
Find out where he got that gun! What's left of it is on the floor!
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The crowd fully parts when Leo shows up, hastily thrown on pajama pants hanging off him and an expression of mixed exhaustion and worry for the worst pulling at his face. People are pulling Peter and some random guy apart, and Leo can see the moment it goes worse before the man yells in pain.
Leo wraps both arms around Peter, tucking him against his chest. But his husband is already (or still?) in commanding mode. So he'll match for now.]
Take him to the brig for now, get a medic for his neck. We'll ask him some questions after the immediate needs are seen to.
['Immediate need' here being peter you fucking got shot and Leo is looking at the blood dripping down the floor, pooled where Peter was standing for too long.]
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He can tell his body is already trying to heal over it. Peter has to resist his urge to take care of the problem now, knowing it will just make the situation worse.
He leans into his husband, forcing himself to keep his breathing even.]
We'll get this situation handled. You two go.
[Mikey interjects firmly, parting the crowd further so his brother and Peter can go.]
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Thankfully, Mikey understands and makes the decision for him. He looks at his little brother, then nods. Leo doesn't waste another second before picking Peter up in his arms bridal style and all but runs to the medbay.]
You're fine- you're gonna be fine, I've got you.
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He keeps the butt of his palm pressed against the wound. Peter knows the blood loss is going to be worse than the actual wound. He's going to hit shock soon enough.]
I know, I'm going to be okay. You're here, it's going to be okay. [He's trying for reassuring, its not quite right.]
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[He is in charge of this, they have a med bay and full stock of what they need so Peter is absolutely not digging that out himself with his fingers.
He doesn't even wait for the doors to the medbay to fully open, instead sliding in sideways as soon as there's enough space and getting Peter to a table in the far corner, drawing the curtains around them.]
Okay- Just stay with me another minute and I'll get this.
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A tight bubble of frustration builds under his skin. He just wants to scream in frustration, but keeps it to an angry little sound in the back of his throat. An angry vibration Leo can likely hear and feel.
Peter only raises his palm away from the entry wound to rip away the fabric around the wound. The fabric is just caked in drying blood. It stains his hands worse in the process. He drops the fabric to the side, breathing a little more heavily as he tries to stem the blood flow again.]
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Shit.
Okay.
He carefully starts moving Peter's hand from the wound, replacing it with a small bit of cloth doused in antiseptic. It's painstaking, going through cleaning it, prepping it. Gently, so so gently, pressing on his side to figure out just how deep it went in. Grabbing for the longer needle point tweezers to start - ugh - digging for it. But the whole while, Leo is shushing, whispering assurances. Wishes to god Peter would have let him be knocked out because he doesn't know how long it'll take him to find the stupid thing.
It feels like ages. It's forever before he tweezers catch on the metal. Leo doesn't dare move.]
Okay- I've got it, gonna give it a tug on three. Ready?
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It's a testament to his self-control that he's still through the procedure. He sticks himself to the table's surface to keep himself from moving. He cries quietly, tears streaking down his cheeks. He bites at his lips, the inside of his cheek, breaking skin in both places.
At some point, Peter feels like he's disconnected from his body, just somewhere else entirely. His mind is adrift, lost in so many thoughts he feels like he could float away from his body entirely.
The question is enough to make Peter come back into focus, he blinks slowly, gazing at his husband again. Awareness settles back in his gaze.]
Yeah. I'm ready.
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Peter coming back to him at the response almost makes Leo sorry he said anything. Peter was blissfully disassociating to deal with it and now Leo's brought him back for the worst part.
He nods.]
One.... Two... [He clamps the ends of the tweezer around the bullet.]
Three. [And yanks with one deft motion, hoping to get it out in one pull.]
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He is not prepared as the bullet is pulled out. He cries out, choking on the sound.
He turns his head away, biting hard on his lip. Peter raises his hand once, hitting the table with enough force to dent the metal under him. He leaves an impression of his fist behind.]
S-sorry. [He breathes out quietly.]
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It's okay- You're okay, nothing to be sorry for. We got it, it's out. Breathe, and I'll stitch it up in a minute.
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Sorry, sorry- I- [He struggles to get the words out, just sobbing a little. He forces himself to suck in a breath, then another, struggling to actively calm himself down.]
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