makingthisupasigo | And the stars look very different today...

It was a way out. But it wasn't home.

Truthfully, after Norfinbury, anything would be better than that place, but the cold truth was--there was no way to find his own universe out of the endless multiverse, even if Norfinbury's busted technology had worked properly. He was stuck, here, with a megalomaniac Flynn--granted, a Flynn that managed to open up a portal out of there. Maybe that's what it took to get out of Norfinbury.

Or, Peter thought sometimes on bad days, Norfinbury only released you once you became the twisted version of yourself it wanted you to be. A specially-designed virus inflicted on countless worlds.

Besides, he ought to know something about that.

He didn't stay long on earth, he couldn't. Maybe it had something to do with the mystery of how they were revived in Norfinbury, their bodies recreated or cloned or healed, or maybe it was something that was gonna happen to him anyway, but he could feel the Light burning inside him, inside his head almost as soon as he landed. A desperate need to take to the stars. He'd managed to create a ship and took off.

Time passes, and scientists notice something odd about several exoplanets they're monitoring, especially ones marked as 'earth-like' or other planets in zones that could make them potentially habitable. Bright bursts of light and changes in the composition of the atmosphere or surface, it was inexplicable. Possible evidence of intelligent life? If they didn't know any better, especially with the rocky planets that now somehow boasted extreme changes, it was like something was terraforming them.

There was cause for alarm when Mars suddenly turned blue and green a few months later.

Meanwhile, a small blue-and-orange ship that looked suspiciously like a slightly more organic-looking Milano was racing towards the earth.

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"And then what?"

He slowly pushes himself to his feet, swaying slightly, his knees almost buckling.

"It doesn't matter how small or big it is. If everything is about you, if everything is you, there'll be nothing left! Nothing to discover, nothing to share. Nobody to surprise or, or to help. You're gonna be stuck with the same loneliness but it's gonna be worse because you won't even have anything left to search for."

And then what?

He honestly didn't know.

"I'll be fine. In fact, I'll be great! Because I'm great company, and who better to hang out with me, than me? I won't be lonely."

...he's going to be so lonely.

"What is the point of being great company if you can't share it with anybody? Who are you gonna tell how you feel, what you want to do, who's gonna make you laugh or cry or angry? Who are you gonna show the things you're excited about?"

Ezekiel shakes his head.

"You'll be just as sad as you are right now. But there'll be nothing left to fix it."

"You don't--I don't--you--" he stammers, then shakes his head. "You know what? You don't know what you're talking about. You may be immortal, but you're still human, and I'm not. This is what I'm meant to be doing, this is what I'm supposed to be doing, this is just what a Celestial does with their life, okay?"

You'll be just as sad as you are right now. But there'll be nothing left to fix it.

"No, that's a choice. Nobody is meant to do anything. Nobody is making you do this. You're just running away!"

He exhales, crossing his arms protectively in front of his body.

"This planet? It's amazing. What you can do, it's amazing, free pizza and beer for life? Amazing. I could have leaned back and enjoy it all and not care about other people and live a great life. But I chose not to. Because it's all about feeling good at the expense of others. It's selfish."

"I am not!" Is he going to devolve into childish yelling? Yes, he is. "You don't know me!"

And okay, he is right, what he can do is amazing, but--

"Then you're stupid, because look, man, you could have had everything? You could still have everything." He throws a hand out behind him. "And that's where you're also wrong, because those others? They don't count. They're like mayflies. Get a few million years on you and you won't even be able to fathom mortal life anymore." He snaps his fingers. "They'll be gone just like that. You won't be able to care."

You won't be able to care.

Ezekiel looks away because that's exactly what he's terrified of. That Peter is right, that he will turn, change into something evil, uncaring. It's what Jenkins had always warned them about. Humans weren't made for immortality.

"And I'll be wrong. A murderer doesn't care about his victims either but that doesn't make him right. Besides, if they're really oh so unimportant to you, why can't you just let them be? Because for the whole not caring talk you obviously care a lot."

He clenches his fists.

"You know what I think? I think you're just jealous. Because they care and you can't and they remind you of that and it's just easier to blame it all on them."

Something in Peter's face looks stricken, then definitely hurt.

He looks down, the frantic need to protect himself manifesting in rage.

He can't talk to me like that.

"If you know me so well? Then there's nothing more to discuss!"

He lifts a hand and makes a throwing motion, a tendril rips out of the ground and heads straight for Ezekiel, meaning to stake him on it once again.

"No, wait!"

Ezekiel jumps back and manages to evade the first strike but he stumbles and almost falls, exhausted from the earlier ordeal.

"M-maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I have to learn. Either way, I can't work on the problem if you do that!"

"You ARE wrong!"

But he does have a point. Peter's torn between his rage and the need for help, and in a fit of indescision, he sends the tendril to attempt to throw Ezekiel into the wall. He can't let him get away with talking to him like that.

Edited 2018-05-25 08:31 (UTC)

His feet are swept away from the floor once again and he goes flying backwards until he connects painfully with the wall behind him.

Again, his bravado goes out of him, anger battling with fear and the rebellious streak clashing with his lifelong self-preservation. Ezekiel finds himself torn between the need to yell at Peter some more (a lot more) and the urge not to be stupid because right now? This is a fight he cannot win.

And it's a very painful fight.

"Okay!" He hold out his hand, the other clutching his shoulder. "P-point taken, I'm sorry!"

Peter stands there, breathing heavily, eyes wide and flickering with the light. He clenches and unclenches his fists, clearly deciding.

"You ever gonna talk to me like that again? Bro?"

God, he hates this guy so much. Hates him, hates him, ever since he and Jake came across that first planet, having to watch helplessly as it got devoured. Hates him for making him watch the Expansion, hates how he calls Ezekiel 'bro', hated pretending to be his friend. Maybe Flynn's thoughts were more complex on the matter but Ezekiel feels almost nauseous by how much he despises Peter inside out.

"No." The word feels bitter on his tongue and Ezekiel looks away. "I won't."

You sure bet he's gonna think it, though.

And the stars look very different today...

cheesy librarian speech was long overdue in this

yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

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cw violence, abuse

cw violence, abuse

cw violence, abuse

cw violence, abuse