"Yeah you would," he agrees, and maybe the utter lack of hesitation might sting if his tone wasn't so impossibly fond. They're all real fucking annoying, every last one of these dipshits he calls his crew, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Life would be boring as hell if he didn't have them driving him nuts at every opportunity. Being crammed into the same space, all tangled up in each other's bullshit...it's made him realize he was never really built to be alone.
And yet here he is, the empty side of the bed cold beside him, nothing but a tinny comm link for company. There's some grand kind of irony in their sense of timing. They could've hooked up at any point in the last five years, and instead here they are, finally figuring their shit out when they're on opposite sides of the fucking universe.
(They couldn't have, realistically. He knows that. It's only in the last few months he's finally made it to a place where he can even think of going for something like this without some animal part of his brain freaking out and hitting the emergency escape, and Peter's had plenty of his own shit to deal with. But still. It's hard not to look back and see wasted time)
He still doesn't entirely understand why Peter's not here, what it is he feels he has to do back on Earth. Not really. Family, as he's come to understand it, means the people who're with you through thick and thin, the ones you turn to when shit hits the fan. He doesn't really get how or why you're supposed to apply the idea to someone you haven't seen for decades just because you happen to share some DNA. But there's no point going through all that again. He doesn't need to understand it to have Peter's back, and right now, mostly that means swallowing down the urge to be a dick about thinking it's stupid.
"Just you wait," he says instead. "You're gonna be laughin' on the other side of your face when you're findin' bolts in your sheets and homemade grenades under your pillow."
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And yet here he is, the empty side of the bed cold beside him, nothing but a tinny comm link for company. There's some grand kind of irony in their sense of timing. They could've hooked up at any point in the last five years, and instead here they are, finally figuring their shit out when they're on opposite sides of the fucking universe.
(They couldn't have, realistically. He knows that. It's only in the last few months he's finally made it to a place where he can even think of going for something like this without some animal part of his brain freaking out and hitting the emergency escape, and Peter's had plenty of his own shit to deal with. But still. It's hard not to look back and see wasted time)
He still doesn't entirely understand why Peter's not here, what it is he feels he has to do back on Earth. Not really. Family, as he's come to understand it, means the people who're with you through thick and thin, the ones you turn to when shit hits the fan. He doesn't really get how or why you're supposed to apply the idea to someone you haven't seen for decades just because you happen to share some DNA. But there's no point going through all that again. He doesn't need to understand it to have Peter's back, and right now, mostly that means swallowing down the urge to be a dick about thinking it's stupid.
"Just you wait," he says instead. "You're gonna be laughin' on the other side of your face when you're findin' bolts in your sheets and homemade grenades under your pillow."