Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2016-12-14
Updated:
2020-01-02
Words:
5,123
Chapters:
6/?
Comments:
6
Kudos:
75
Bookmarks:
5
Hits:
1,422

The Road Trip

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hater didn’t sleep long. Half an hour, if that. He lay on his back for a while and watched Peepers sleep.

It had taken a while for the things Peepers had said to permeate Hater’s skull. Before they went to bed, Peepers had questioned his role in their relationship. Just the brains, that’s what he’d said. Now that he was awake, Hater grasped what Peepers had been getting at. And it bothered him.

The first fingers of dawn brushed the sky. A hint of pale blue poked through the indigo blanket. He didn’t have a watch, but Hater knew it had to be close to four in the morning.

His head was spinning. It hadn’t occurred to him before now, but now that he stopped to consider it, something was up with Peepers. Something was seriously wrong.

Bits of their conversation played over and over in Hater’s skull. Just the brains. What else am I good for?

It wasn’t like him to be so hard on himself. OK, maybe it was, but not this bad. Where had this come from? Before they left, Peepers had been over the moon about going on vacation. Just yesterday, he’d been chomping at the bit to get going. Hater couldn’t imagine where this sudden bout of self-loathing had come from.

After another twenty minutes, he caved. He stretched out a hand and shook the Watchdog.

“Hey, Peepers?”

Peepers rolled over. He grunted, blinked several times, and opened his eye halfway. “Yeah?”

“Can we talk?”

“Right now?” Peepers strained to see out the windshield. “What’s up? It’s too soon to grab lunch. It’s too early for breakfast. Something wrong? Bad dream?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?” Peepers blinked irritably. “I’m not a morning person. Especially when it’s still dark.”

Hater rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t much good with feelings. But seeing Peepers so down on himself had struck a nerve. He had to get to the bottom of this.

“It’s about what you said earlier. Remember? When I came to bed. You were so done on yourself. It’s not like you to be so self-depreciating. Did something happen?”

Hater winced. Self-depreciating. Whoa, slow down, big fella. Breaking out the vocab.

“You woke me up to ask me that?” Peepers blinked again and rubbed the sleep from his eye. “What about it?” His tone was not encouraging.

“I’m worried.”

Hater squinted. Was it his imagination, or was the Watchdog deliberately avoiding direct eye contact? It was probably nothing.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” Peepers mumbled. “Got a lot on my mind.”

“That’s nothing new. You’ve always got something on your mind. It never stops going. What’s got your goat? I’m here if you need to talk. Anytime. You know that, right?”

It sounded so stupid. Of course he’d be right here. Where else would he be?

“Yes,” Peepers sighed. “Of course I do.”

He rolled over so one hand fell on Hater’s chest. “Listen, I appreciate the concern. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s...personal stuff. I don’t want to talk about it. Not to you, not to anyone.”

An ominous chill crept down Hater’s spine. What was going on? They told each other everything. Everything. From stupid dreams to ambitions they’d had as kids. Sometimes it seemed like Peepers knew Hater better than Hater knew himself. To have the person he loved something so important kept from hurt like a knife in the back.

Lost in his own thoughts, Hater jumped when Peepers propped his eye on his shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his elbow, close to his ribs. “I love you,” he murmured, a dropped a kiss on Hater’s clavicle. “You clueless sap.”

“Bug-eyed little creep,” Hater said toothlessly. He tried to smile. “I love you, too.”

Peepers chuckled drowsily. “Spiteful bonebag,” he shot back. “Do me a favor. Next time we need to talk in the middle of the night, don’t wake me up right away. Wait until the sun’s up, will you?”

Hater ignored his lighthearted jabs. 

“Seriously, Peeps. I’m worried about you. Do you want to go back? It’s not that big of a deal. If you’re not happy, I won’t drag you along.”

Peepers stared at him, the glint in his eye unreadable.

“This whole trip was supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be a celebration of everything worth saving,” Hater said. “Everything we kept when Dominator was defeated. But it doesn’t matter. If you’re this upset, it can wait. Do you wanna go home? I don’t mind. I’ll pack us up right now. Just say the word.”

“No,” Peepers said and snuggled closer. “Go back to sleep.”

Hater wasn’t convinced. Peepers got snuggly when he wanted to change the subject.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, flatly. “Isn’t there?”

Peepers didn’t reply.

Hater’s stomach dropped. “What happened? Was it me? Can I fix it?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s... it’s stupid. Let it go.”

Hater snorted. “Wow, that’s helpful. Come on, Peeps. Spill it.”

When Peepers didn’t reply, Hater snorted in exasperation. “Whatever. I’m not going to force it out of you. I’m here if you want to talk.”

Peepers refused to meet his eye. He was too busy fiddling with the edge of the comforter.

“It’s not that. I can’t tell you!”

The pain in his voice sent a shard of ice through Hater’s heart. He raised a hand, about to pull Peepers into a hug. Then he stopped.

He doesn’t want to talk, no need to force it. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready.

Hater let his hand drop. Whatever the issue was, it was much bigger problem than Hater had first thought. It sat between them like a chaperone at a middle school dance, heavy and unwelcome. Neither spoke for two long minutes.

Sighing heavily, Hater rolled on his side, his back to Peepers. “Let’s get some more sleep. Sorry I woke you up. I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” a small voice whispered.

With an equally heavy sigh, Peepers curled next to him, pressing their spines together. They rested back to back, not speaking, facing away from each other.

“Trust me, it’s not you,” Peepers said after another long silence.

Hater didn’t say anything. Peepers kept going.

“Trust me, it’s nothing you’ve done. This...stuff, I mean. It’s been bothering me for a while, and...and I don’t know what to do.” His voice broke on the last word.

Was he crying? Hater rolled over. He put a hand out, and Peepers latched on tight. He wasn’t crying, but he was shaking.

“C’mere.” The anger burning inside dissolved. Hater pulled him into his arms. “Peepers, baby, I’m right here. Talk to me. Don’t shut me out. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Peepers shuddered and pressed close. “Can it wait? I’m not ready. I can’t do it. Not yet.”

“OK, OK. Yeah, sure. Whatever you need, Peeps.”

Hater was not ready to let this go. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But common sense won. A huge fight over something so stupid wouldn’t fix anything. The instinct to be a good boyfriend forced the lingering traces of hurt and irritation to the back of Hater’s mind.

Peepers nuzzled his jawbone. The trembling subsided. “It’s nothing to do with you,” he breathed. “You have to believe that. It’s not you.”

“I believe you, Peeps. I didn’t mean to upset you-”

Peepers shook his head and cuddled even closer. “Trust me, you didn’t. You didn’t. I’m glad you said something. I’ve kept this bottled up way too long. It’s been eating at me for weeks. It’s time. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but I’m glad you brought it up.”

“Even in the middle of the night?” Hater couldn’t help asking.

Peepers snorted. “Who are you kidding? It’s first thing in the morning.”

The bite of sarcasm came as a relief. Hater exhaled and patted the small back. “Listen, Peepers, I think we should head back home. If you’re this upset...”

“No!” Peepers cut him off.

He spoke so sharply, Hater blinked in surprise. “OK, all right. Take it easy.”

Peepers winced and lowered his voice. “No. I can’t be home, not until I figure this out. Not yet.”

Hater eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure?”

Peepers nodded. “Yeah. It’s got to be this way.”

Wow. That’s comforting, Hater thought sarcastically. You can’t talk to me at home. You chose to have an existential crisis in the middle of nowhere.

”I’ll take your word for it.” Hater patted Peepers’ arm. “All right. Let’s get some more sleep. We’ll figure this out later.”

“Will you hold me?” Peepers blurted out. “Please?”

Hater blinked in surprise. Why did he look so ashamed?

“What? Yeah, of course. You know I will. Come here, buddy. Come to me.”

Looking relived, Peepers curled up on his clavicle. Hater wrapped both arms around him, holding him close.

“Like this?”

“Just like that,” Peepers murmured. He sighed and snuggled down. “Yeah.”

They settled back, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing the same pillow.

“Hater?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Notes:

Three years late! Sorry it’s been so long! More on the way!