cargojet | IC Contact

i havent had time to think about that. ive been too busy being in a coma.

I heard rumours of a cure.

thats cause there is one. worked pretty fast, too.

would you have been there if it hadnt?

sorry i didnt mean it like that. i just wouldnt have known if you were.

I know what you're saying.

The decision had already been made when I went down to see you. Not been easy knowing you coulda died and I hadn't said goodbye properly.

And I didn't mean that the way it came out either.

i was just curious. i wouldnt want to watch you die either.

and now you dont even have to say goodbye.

Till when? It's only a matter of time.

then we worry about it then.

And for the record I did sit with you for a while. But I figured I ought to get out while I still could, considering I was going to end up back in there sooner or later myself.

You want me to bring you some soup?

i believe you. probably better that you did.

and yeah sure. id take some soup.

[ Nathan didn't want to go back down to sickbay at least until he was feeling as awful as Peter was when he came in, but he was shaky on his feet to say the least, his eyes rimmed with blue, his skin tinged, blackness inching down his fingers. People were starting to be treated with the cure, but it was limited, and some were sicker than he was, so until it was literally forced on him, he was going to wait it out, put up with suffering until he couldn't take it any more.

He carried down a bowl of soup wrapped in a blanket to keep warm, and when he entered the sickbay it was like coming home, back to something familiar. He navigated it easily, found Peter's bed and sank down into the chair near him, unfolding his bundle. ]

Hey. You look better already.

[ Peter was sitting up, feet curled up underneath him because he was already tired of being forced to lay down and stay put. He would stay in the medbay, grumpily, but he wasn't going to lay down anymore even if it made the world swim more than it should, and even if his stomach complained with every tip of his head. He was still being administered fluids but he was convinced he could leave. Sort of.

But there was something about being sick that just made Peter want basic comforts, and so Nathan's appearance alone perked him up, making him sit up a little straighter and pulling his knees up to his chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Just wanting Nathan somewhere nearby. ]

Yeah, so i've heard.

[ It was just... Nice. Being able to get closer to Peter again, to rebuild bridges he hadn't known until recently how much he wanted to rebuild. They'd lost so much, suffered so much, and this place was out to get them. They needed to look out for other, not be at odds for something better left at home.

He settled the bundle on Peter's chest, sliding out the cup of hot soup - capped - and while holding it in place with one hand, reached across to gently help Peter to sit forward, angling himself inward toward his brother's shoulder. ]

You got it?

[ In all truth, this wasn't how Peter would have chosen to rebuild bridges that they'd both had a part in burning down, but maybe it just had to get this bad. Maybe they both had to realize the possibility of loss between them to make them see what exactly was important, but Peter would have preferred he not have to nearly die for Nathan to remember why he ever cared in the first place. Not that Peter would have wanted it to be Nathan instead.

Wrinkling his nose with the effort it takes to lean forward, Peter huffs a breath, squeezing his eyes shut while he waits for the vertigo to subside. It only takes a second or two before he's settled, nodding at Nathan's words. ]

Yeah, I got it. [ Carefully taking the lid off the container of soup, Peter looks back up to Nathan, almost expectantly. ] Think you can convince the guys in charge to let me go yet?

[ Calmly Nathan settled back, watching his brother take the soup and pull it close. It was space soup, therefore he wasn’t even sure what was in it, but it had been dry and made up with water, and he was sure it was chicken. Okay mostly sure. It could have been that like the alcohol, such things as powdered soups were more like ‘tastes like chicken’ than actual chicken. Just like none of the scotch he’d found to drink was actually yellow.

He pondered his brother’s request. ]

I know if you were ready to go you wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Pete, so no, I’m not even gonna give it a try. When you’re ready you’ll just walk outta here, and even Dr. Grouchypants won’t be able to stop you. Besides, I need you here for moral support when they jab me with that needle later.

[ More or less Nathan admitting that he was still sick. There was an excess of the cure now, but Nathan was preoccupied with making sure his brother was getting better before he even contemplated taking it—of course he’d written the whole thing off at first as making sure that people who were sicker than he was were being treated first, but now he didn’t really have that excuse any more. ]

How is it?

[ All things considered, Peter didn't care if it was real space chicken soup or artificially flavored or space water for that matter. All he wanted was to be able to keep it down, considering he'd spent the past week with a stomach that refused to have any sort of contents in it. The idea of just getting to eat something and enjoy it, just a little, was a ridiculously pleasing one, and so Peter sipped at it while Nathan spoke.

And out of all of the things for Peter to catch on to, he only listened to the last sentence, giving Nathan a look as he carefully set the bowl back in his lap. ]

You haven't gotten the cure yet? Nathan, go get it, there's no reason for you not to. [ He'd nudge at his brother if it wouldn't send the soup sloshing out of the bowl, and so all he could do was huff, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, too exhausted for his own good. ]

And the soup is fine. Thanks. [ He offers Nathan up a lopsided smile, his words obviously genuine before lifting the bowl again, though he takes one more second to tip his head, pointing his chin out towards the medbay. ] I'm not going anywhere, go get the cure.

You kidding? It's gonna make me feel worse than I already do taking that stuff, and who's gonna bring you chicken soup then? Besides, it can wait till you're sleeping. I'm feeling better already just seeing you up again.

[ He smiled again, reaching out to place his hand on Peter's shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze, before settling down beside him. Sure, he was feeling a little dizzy, and the sight of the soup had made him want to throw up, but the cure could still wait until he'd made sure that his previously comatose brother was feeling a little better.

Nathan had to keep reminding himself that his brother was no longer knocking at death's door, that he didn't have to rush through clinging to every single moment any more trying to make it up to him, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted things to be alright between them again.

Goddamm space, going and messing everything up. Punching him right in the feelings. It wasn't fair. ]

Has anyone else been in to see you?

[ Giving Nathan a carefully concerned look as he took another slow sip of soup, he swallowed a second later and set the bowl carefully back down in his lap. He was still worried about his ability to keep it down, but most of his focus had fallen back onto Nathan.

Maybe he was supposed to be telling his brother off by now, that if he didn't go get the cure he'd have the same chance of dying as everyone else had. That he could get worse still, and that it wouldn't matter if he wasn't all that bad now, or that the cure still sucked. That Nathan, if he pushed this too hard, could deteriorate just like Peter had. Even if it took weeks. But he just didn't have the energy to fight it. Not right now. Just like he didn't have the energy to fight with Nathan about anything; which was why he desperately still wanted his brother around.

At the question, he gave his head a slight shake, staring back at his soup. ]

Haven't seen anyone else.

[ Shrugging absently, he took another sip as he looked up again. In all truth, he wouldn't know who he'd even want to have come seen him. He just wasn't good at making friends anymore, or at least that's what it felt like. ] Saw Claire before everyone got sick, though.

[ He stared off for a second, his chin on the pillow above Peter's head. He really hadn't seen anyone else? Hadn't been visitied by... Well, whoever would visit him down here when he was dying? There were people on the ship that cared, weren't there, other than him? And if not then why not?

He sat back up, blinking down at Peter as he mentioned Claire. ]

I saw her too, back when we jumped. Didn't think to tell you cause I reckoned you'd run into each other soon enough.

[ He paused, reaching up to stroke Peter's hair back, still looking away rather than right at him. He should have kept closer tabs on her. What if she'd wandered off into the corridors? What kind of father did it make him that he didn't even know where she was right now, or if she'd come down with this illness. He seemed troubled, embarassed, when he finally let his eyes drop down to Peter again. ]

Maybe I'll give her a call, see if she'll come see you now you're getting better.

IC Contact

text;

text;

text; 1/3

text;

text;

text;

text;

text;

text; 1/2

text;

text;

text;

text;

text;

text;

text;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;