Pyotr & April | late night talking
Oct. 24th, 2022 03:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsPyotr wrestles with his demons after the X-Men's recent encounter with Malice's new team. April provides an ear when he can't sleep.
Pyotr couldn't sleep. For him, this was a fairly unusual problem. He'd lay himself down, get comfortable, but when he closed his eyes and tried to ease into slumber, all he'd hear is the low crack of shattering ribs. And while that was bad enough, the worst part was the remembrance of smug satisfaction at the act.
He was proud of it. And that sickened him - this was not who he was. Not who he was supposed to be. So why did he feel so _good_ about it in the moment? Triumphant at almost killing someone. And for what? Just to prove he was stronger, tougher?
He was stronger and tougher than the vast bulk of the rest of humanity and mutantkind both.
Giving sleep up as a bad deal, and not wanting to come anywhere near an easel in his current mindset, he threw on some track pants and then went out into the common room of their suite. Maybe a little mindless American television with cultural references he didn't understand would put him to sleep.
It'd be nice.
April wasn’t quite sure what woke her up, but she could make out Pyotr’s footsteps and the muted sounds of the television as he clicked it on. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grabbed a sweatshirt, throwing it on over the tank and shorts she slept in and shuffling into the common area with a wide yawn.
“Petya?” Her voice was groggy from sleep, and she squinted at the clock in the kitchen as she moved towards the couch. “It’s 3 AM, why are you awake?”
"Da?" he said, forgetting to speak English for a moment, then made the mental adjustment. "Can't sleep." he admitted. "Thought some American late-nite television might help." he said. "Did I wake you?"
She shrugged lightly, curling up in the corner of the couch as she sat. “Maybe? Not sure what woke me up. What’s wrong? You usually sleep like the dead.”
"A lot on my mind." he said, trying and failing to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn. Even if he shifted now he'd still be tired and being tired as Colossus was, as he'd discovered, not fun at all. He stood up to go get himself a glass of water - the caffeine in tea would just make his sleeping problems worse and non-caffeinated tea didn't bear thinking about. "Want some water?" he asked on his way to their kitchen.
“Water sounds good.” April briefly considered getting Boris, but discarded the idea almost immediately. He was a bit of a handful when his routine got messed up, but maybe whatever was weighing on her roommate enough to keep him awake could be remedied by the simple affection from their dog. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Pyotr, yawning, poured two glasses of water and as he returned to their common area, handed one of them to her. He settled himself down before taking a deep drink of his water. "Maybe." he admitted. "Is kind of night where, as Kyle says, brain-weasels are gnawing on your thoughts."
“Those damn brain weasels, always causing trouble,” she remarked lightly. “Work? Illyana? That mission you went on recently? Something else?” She wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that this wasn’t a vodka problem, and she could see it going either way, really.
He'd thought about vodka, but getting drunk sounded like a really, really bad idea and still did, to be honest. "Not Yana. Last mission. Not sure how much I can tell you about what happened…" he said and then he let his voice trail off.
April let out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe… don’t tell me the specifics of what the team was there to accomplish, just what you did or didn’t do that has you in such a funk.” She reached out with a foot, giving his leg a brief, friendly nudge. “That way we’re talking about what’s bothering you, but I’m not learning about things I’m not supposed to be privy to yet.”
He thought about that for a few moments. "Da, sounds reasonable." he said. "Met woman while on mission. She was strong, fast. Got some good shots in. Hit harder than I've ever been hit before." he said. "Found opening, took it. Hurt her very badly. Crushed ribcage, based on the sound of it, and maybe punctured lung. That doesn't bother me too much. What does is that I liked it. Liked doing it, liked proving myself the stronger. Then threw woman back towards her team-mate. Not proud of that at all." he said quietly. "No care for her condition. Gloating in victory. Did not think I was that kind of person."
It got worse - he was leaving out all the parts relevant to Dust and his complete lack of cover and backup of her, his abysmal status as a team-mate. That he'd work through with training and being not so much of a мудак to everyone involved.
“Did she hurt your teammates, or did she just hurt your pride? I’ve gotten a few good shots on your human form before, but you’ve never hurt me for doing it, so…” April was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt here, but she knew the rush of battle could be a thing. Had fought it herself when she was younger, still learning about pulling punches for the unenhanced they often encountered. “It’s good that you aren’t proud of it now, I think. At least the lack of regard.”
"Her and her partner ambushed us." he said flatly. "Can't talk about that end of things. But yes. Not sleeping because all I hear is her ribs giving way along with the rush of victory. Almost of cruelty. I did not think I was cruel. That it was in my nature to gloat in someone else's pain. Do not like this knowledge."
It sucked to realize you could be pushed past what you thought your limits were in such a shitty way. But the past couldn’t be changed. “I understand how that would make sleeping difficult. Would you like to talk to a professional about it? Jean–ah, Dr. Grey–gave me some resources when I first landed here, since I’d been ripped away from everything I knew.” She’d leave them on the table even if he didn’t give her a definite yes. Let him have that choice without her being up in his personal business. She had suggestions, advice on what had worked for her, but she didn’t want to overstep. Sometimes people just needed someone to listen, not to fix. But… “Would you like a hug?”
Pyotr wrinkled his nose. "Perhaps not Dr Grey." he said. "Did not get off on good foot. Will likely just ask professor for some of his time, talk things out." he said. He thought about her request for a moment, then just nodded mutely.
April pressed into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. “Not actually talking to her. There are a few counselors in the area that are in the know enough that other people in the mansion have talked things out with them. Most of us would perhaps be a little too close, although I’m sure there are others that have dealt with similar issues.”
He returned the hug fiercely - she was sturdier than she looked - but only for a moment. "Will talk to Professor. If he suggests outside person, will talk to outside person. Is good compromise." he said with another yawn.
“It is.” And she was resolved to leave him the information as well, just so he could talk about the options as well. “Slumber party in the living room?”
Pyotr for his part just nodded and collected their water glasses for refill or for disposal, depending. "Am not doing stupid fort thing. You Americans…" he said with the ghost of a smile on his face.
“No fort, just a blanket.” April disappeared back into her room briefly, ditching the sweatshirt for one of the lighter weight blankets she owned. “Stretch out and scoot back, so I’ve got a few inches of space.”
Pyotr couldn't sleep. For him, this was a fairly unusual problem. He'd lay himself down, get comfortable, but when he closed his eyes and tried to ease into slumber, all he'd hear is the low crack of shattering ribs. And while that was bad enough, the worst part was the remembrance of smug satisfaction at the act.
He was proud of it. And that sickened him - this was not who he was. Not who he was supposed to be. So why did he feel so _good_ about it in the moment? Triumphant at almost killing someone. And for what? Just to prove he was stronger, tougher?
He was stronger and tougher than the vast bulk of the rest of humanity and mutantkind both.
Giving sleep up as a bad deal, and not wanting to come anywhere near an easel in his current mindset, he threw on some track pants and then went out into the common room of their suite. Maybe a little mindless American television with cultural references he didn't understand would put him to sleep.
It'd be nice.
April wasn’t quite sure what woke her up, but she could make out Pyotr’s footsteps and the muted sounds of the television as he clicked it on. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grabbed a sweatshirt, throwing it on over the tank and shorts she slept in and shuffling into the common area with a wide yawn.
“Petya?” Her voice was groggy from sleep, and she squinted at the clock in the kitchen as she moved towards the couch. “It’s 3 AM, why are you awake?”
"Da?" he said, forgetting to speak English for a moment, then made the mental adjustment. "Can't sleep." he admitted. "Thought some American late-nite television might help." he said. "Did I wake you?"
She shrugged lightly, curling up in the corner of the couch as she sat. “Maybe? Not sure what woke me up. What’s wrong? You usually sleep like the dead.”
"A lot on my mind." he said, trying and failing to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn. Even if he shifted now he'd still be tired and being tired as Colossus was, as he'd discovered, not fun at all. He stood up to go get himself a glass of water - the caffeine in tea would just make his sleeping problems worse and non-caffeinated tea didn't bear thinking about. "Want some water?" he asked on his way to their kitchen.
“Water sounds good.” April briefly considered getting Boris, but discarded the idea almost immediately. He was a bit of a handful when his routine got messed up, but maybe whatever was weighing on her roommate enough to keep him awake could be remedied by the simple affection from their dog. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Pyotr, yawning, poured two glasses of water and as he returned to their common area, handed one of them to her. He settled himself down before taking a deep drink of his water. "Maybe." he admitted. "Is kind of night where, as Kyle says, brain-weasels are gnawing on your thoughts."
“Those damn brain weasels, always causing trouble,” she remarked lightly. “Work? Illyana? That mission you went on recently? Something else?” She wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that this wasn’t a vodka problem, and she could see it going either way, really.
He'd thought about vodka, but getting drunk sounded like a really, really bad idea and still did, to be honest. "Not Yana. Last mission. Not sure how much I can tell you about what happened…" he said and then he let his voice trail off.
April let out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe… don’t tell me the specifics of what the team was there to accomplish, just what you did or didn’t do that has you in such a funk.” She reached out with a foot, giving his leg a brief, friendly nudge. “That way we’re talking about what’s bothering you, but I’m not learning about things I’m not supposed to be privy to yet.”
He thought about that for a few moments. "Da, sounds reasonable." he said. "Met woman while on mission. She was strong, fast. Got some good shots in. Hit harder than I've ever been hit before." he said. "Found opening, took it. Hurt her very badly. Crushed ribcage, based on the sound of it, and maybe punctured lung. That doesn't bother me too much. What does is that I liked it. Liked doing it, liked proving myself the stronger. Then threw woman back towards her team-mate. Not proud of that at all." he said quietly. "No care for her condition. Gloating in victory. Did not think I was that kind of person."
It got worse - he was leaving out all the parts relevant to Dust and his complete lack of cover and backup of her, his abysmal status as a team-mate. That he'd work through with training and being not so much of a мудак to everyone involved.
“Did she hurt your teammates, or did she just hurt your pride? I’ve gotten a few good shots on your human form before, but you’ve never hurt me for doing it, so…” April was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt here, but she knew the rush of battle could be a thing. Had fought it herself when she was younger, still learning about pulling punches for the unenhanced they often encountered. “It’s good that you aren’t proud of it now, I think. At least the lack of regard.”
"Her and her partner ambushed us." he said flatly. "Can't talk about that end of things. But yes. Not sleeping because all I hear is her ribs giving way along with the rush of victory. Almost of cruelty. I did not think I was cruel. That it was in my nature to gloat in someone else's pain. Do not like this knowledge."
It sucked to realize you could be pushed past what you thought your limits were in such a shitty way. But the past couldn’t be changed. “I understand how that would make sleeping difficult. Would you like to talk to a professional about it? Jean–ah, Dr. Grey–gave me some resources when I first landed here, since I’d been ripped away from everything I knew.” She’d leave them on the table even if he didn’t give her a definite yes. Let him have that choice without her being up in his personal business. She had suggestions, advice on what had worked for her, but she didn’t want to overstep. Sometimes people just needed someone to listen, not to fix. But… “Would you like a hug?”
Pyotr wrinkled his nose. "Perhaps not Dr Grey." he said. "Did not get off on good foot. Will likely just ask professor for some of his time, talk things out." he said. He thought about her request for a moment, then just nodded mutely.
April pressed into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. “Not actually talking to her. There are a few counselors in the area that are in the know enough that other people in the mansion have talked things out with them. Most of us would perhaps be a little too close, although I’m sure there are others that have dealt with similar issues.”
He returned the hug fiercely - she was sturdier than she looked - but only for a moment. "Will talk to Professor. If he suggests outside person, will talk to outside person. Is good compromise." he said with another yawn.
“It is.” And she was resolved to leave him the information as well, just so he could talk about the options as well. “Slumber party in the living room?”
Pyotr for his part just nodded and collected their water glasses for refill or for disposal, depending. "Am not doing stupid fort thing. You Americans…" he said with the ghost of a smile on his face.
“No fort, just a blanket.” April disappeared back into her room briefly, ditching the sweatshirt for one of the lighter weight blankets she owned. “Stretch out and scoot back, so I’ve got a few inches of space.”
