And you're a callous jerk with no regard for the suffering of others. Ohh, look at me, I'm so immortal, look at me, I'm so cool! I'm a Celestial, nevermind the fact that I can't do anything and there is absolutely nothing in this town to even be remotely Celestial about, but, whatever, I'll keep using it as a cheap excuse to be godawful to others.
Screw you, Peter. You're not above us. You don't even glow.
I'm not jealous of you, I despise everything you have become to the core. You're a disgrace for every decent Immortal out there.
You took the easy way out, cutting yourself off from your humanity, congratulations. That doesn't make you a god, it doesn't make you important and it definitely doesn't make you strong. It makes you a coward.
[Errgh, if only he could get up and punch him right now, but his back and butt hurt too much to bother. Rain check, then.]
I'm a coward!? You don't know what I've had to go through, buddy. You didn't save the galaxy two times only to be thrown into this prison to rot for all eternity! And I've seen eternity, pal, it's definitely not a fun time to be stuck in THIS PLACE!
You realize I'm gonna get up eventually and come find you, right?
Yes, a coward. You're not the only one who's suffered and we're not the ones who put you here. You could be helping people, instead you chose to tear them down even more whenever opportunity strikes. You're just a bully, Peter.
Hobble away, Celeste, I don't care. [He does, actually, but he's also a lot more vocal on the network. It's a problem.] You gonna kill me?
Why? Why should I help anyone when they're just gonna die anyway? What does it matter in the end? My dad was right, I guess. I was stupid to think I could get along with mortals.
What do you think? I'm gonna kick your ass first, though.
It matters because we're not dead! We're alive right now, and we feel just like you! You are not the alpha and the omega, Peter, and your pain doesn't exist in a goddamn vacuum!
You're dead to me! Who cares if I kill you, you're already dead!
[Peter spits it out before he can stop himself, his voice cracking, emotion finally breaking through.
It's out now, so there's no point in trying not to spill it.]
I can't...keep doing this. I can't.
[He gently rubs the bridge of his probably-broken-again nose. Ouch. Bad idea.]
I look at you, and I see someone who's dead. Walking around for five minutes, just waiting to drop.
[Peter thought about moments with his friends--lost to the ages. Rocket and him and Groot flying through the air in an aero rig. Almost kissing Gamora, as she danced to Fooled around and Fell in Love, Elvin Bishop, 1975. Laughing with Drax. Making fun of Stephen's sorceryness and holding a are-space-pirates-or-wizards cooler vote on the network. Telling Flynn about the wonderful horrors of Ravager life. Flynn saving him from his hallucinations, keeping him grounded.]
I hate this. [His voice broke.] I can't even kill myself to stop this, I'll just come back. I've lost everyone, I've lost you, and I'm going to lose myself. It'll be 20,000 years later and there'll be nothing left of me.
The ultimate blow to this day, to this round of their messed up song and dance, and thank God for audio because Flynn flinches at the cruel words. It's his own fault, really. He should have known better, why is he always so stupid?
When he speaks his voice is quiet.]
I hate you so much.
[At the same time he's torn by the emotions and pain in Peter's outburst, his own helplessness, his inability to keep this from happening. His not being enough to matter.]
[Peter's face burns with suppressed sorrow and grief and rage. Flynn's 'I hate you' stings, but he's so used to being the way he was now, it wasn't surprising.
But his own outburst cracked open the dam and he couldn't put it back together in time. Centuries of trying not to let things get to him, of not letting people get to him, all because he couldn't let himself care enough to lose people--that was all failing in the face of the terrible fact that none of this mattered, that everything and everyone that was important to him was gone, that he was just wasting time until he was crushed and flattened under millions of years of Norfinbury, everything that he was drained away little by little.
He doesn't answer Flynn, he tells himself he doesn't care if he comes over or not, but his feed's still on.]
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Screw you, Peter. You're not above us. You don't even glow.
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And two--I am above you. Duh. I don't make the rules. It's not my fault you're mortal and piddly and weak, so stop projecting your jealousy on me!
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You took the easy way out, cutting yourself off from your humanity, congratulations. That doesn't make you a god, it doesn't make you important and it definitely doesn't make you strong. It makes you a coward.
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I'm a coward!? You don't know what I've had to go through, buddy. You didn't save the galaxy two times only to be thrown into this prison to rot for all eternity! And I've seen eternity, pal, it's definitely not a fun time to be stuck in THIS PLACE!
You realize I'm gonna get up eventually and come find you, right?
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Hobble away, Celeste, I don't care. [He does, actually, but he's also a lot more vocal on the network. It's a problem.] You gonna kill me?
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What do you think? I'm gonna kick your ass first, though.
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We used to be friends!
CW: Suicidal ideations, existential horror
[Peter spits it out before he can stop himself, his voice cracking, emotion finally breaking through.
It's out now, so there's no point in trying not to spill it.]
I can't...keep doing this. I can't.
[He gently rubs the bridge of his probably-broken-again nose. Ouch. Bad idea.]
I look at you, and I see someone who's dead. Walking around for five minutes, just waiting to drop.
[Peter thought about moments with his friends--lost to the ages. Rocket and him and Groot flying through the air in an aero rig. Almost kissing Gamora, as she danced to Fooled around and Fell in Love, Elvin Bishop, 1975. Laughing with Drax. Making fun of Stephen's sorceryness and holding a are-space-pirates-or-wizards cooler vote on the network. Telling Flynn about the wonderful horrors of Ravager life. Flynn saving him from his hallucinations, keeping him grounded.]
I hate this. [His voice broke.] I can't even kill myself to stop this, I'll just come back. I've lost everyone, I've lost you, and I'm going to lose myself. It'll be 20,000 years later and there'll be nothing left of me.
cw: a broken heart; peter
The ultimate blow to this day, to this round of their messed up song and dance, and thank God for audio because Flynn flinches at the cruel words. It's his own fault, really. He should have known better, why is he always so stupid?
When he speaks his voice is quiet.]
I hate you so much.
[At the same time he's torn by the emotions and pain in Peter's outburst, his own helplessness, his inability to keep this from happening. His not being enough to matter.]
I'm sorry.
[He turns the feed off.
Turns it back on.]
I'm coming over.
CW: everything is pain
But his own outburst cracked open the dam and he couldn't put it back together in time. Centuries of trying not to let things get to him, of not letting people get to him, all because he couldn't let himself care enough to lose people--that was all failing in the face of the terrible fact that none of this mattered, that everything and everyone that was important to him was gone, that he was just wasting time until he was crushed and flattened under millions of years of Norfinbury, everything that he was drained away little by little.
He doesn't answer Flynn, he tells himself he doesn't care if he comes over or not, but his feed's still on.]
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