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alexandenigtscreations · 3 years

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Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Summary:

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

Part 4:

Somewhere in the distance and fog of his mind he registered a door swinging open. There was a loud clatter and shredding of metal that set his teeth on edge, scattering what little assemblance of thought he’d managed to collect.

Something- something wasn’t right.

Shrill beeping cut deep into his skull- Juno pressed a hand to his temple, opening his eye to stare up at the canvas.

Nureyev was out there- fighting.

Nureyev was out there fighting while Juno was cowering under a blanket like some god damned child- But no, ‘worse than a child’ , even as a kid he’d probably be out there right now, fists swinging to protect those important to him.

Damn, even dead Ramses O’Flaherty could still talk his ear off.

Stop it Steel. He shifted, groaning as stab of pain shot through his stomach-

He- oh- he didn’t feel good-

There were more sounds from outside, sparking metal and weighty clangs- accompanied by the the telltale hum of a blaster charging- Nureyev didn’t fight with a blaster, which meant-

No-

Juno forced himself into a sitting position, a sodden cloth sliding off his forehead. The world washed out in vertigo, the nausea once again clawing at his insides. Damn it-

He groaned, clutching at the couch arm for dear life.

It felt like an eternity for him to get his bearings- He needed to get to Nureyev, he needed to help . That little black box wouldn't mean a damned thing if something happened to his knight in stolen armor.

You’d just get in his way- a nasty part of himself hissed. You’re no good to anyone like you are now-

And god was he aware of that, couldn’t so much as sit up without feeling sick- he gritted his teeth cursing himself for getting hit in the first place.

Hell, hadn’t Nureyev proven time and time again how he didn’t need Juno? How could he fend for himself? He’d practically carried Juno the last leg to their pick up point, probably making his injury worse. .

The battle wages on in Juno's mind, to go or not to go- To go or not to go, To go- God, he's had hangovers that treat him more like a lady than this.

Or not to go- He hunched over, hugging himself tight-

To go - even the THEIA Soul hadn't done him this dirty-

Or not to go- admittedly he'd been heavily sedated in a hospital ward at the time and couldn't remember much of the whole thing-

Or not to go-

Juno was just about to let his aching body sink back into the cushions when he heard something that flooded him with fear.

Nureyev screamed-

The last time he’d heard the man scream was in Miasma’s compound. It was something that his nameless thief just didn’t do.

He was hurt-

He needed help-

Juno lurched to his feet, barely able to disentangle himself from the canvas and take up his blaster.

He heard Nureyev again, this time softer than before. It only served to spur Juno on.

Juno flung the door open. Propping himself up on the frame, he surveyed the scene. A handful of drones were closing in on where Nureyev was tangled in a series of bins. He was struggling to get upright and not getting very far-

Juno took aim and fired.

It was hard to aim true with his shaking arms. The shots never seemed to line up quite right and for a heart stopping moment, he thought he hit Nureyev. Terror bit deep into his chest as Juno watched the man fold in on himself, getting impossibly small.

Oh, no, no, no, please no-

The next thing he knew, the thief leaped up with a flourish. A flash of silver arced through the air, knocking something to the ground next to Juno’s feet.

A drone.

He- hadn’t noticed it- which seemed impossible, it was so close- He hadn't noticed it until Nureyev acted-

“Nice- shot-”. He gasped, feeling his face twisting into a grimace. The knife sensation reared its ugly head; cutting edges worrying away at his core. It was too much, too much! God. It drowned out all thought leaving only pain.

He let out a low whine and sagged against the door frame, feeling sicker than ever. Dimly aware of that musical baritone talking to him, saying his name and cool hands cupping his face-

He could scarcely make out the words over the rush of blood in his ears. But he wanted to. He’d do anything for that wonderful voice.

“uno- Juno-” Nureyev was saying “love, do you think you c-can stand for me?”

All Juno could do was let out an unhelpful groan. Long thin arms wound their way about him, attempting to pull him upright. But it hurt - it hurt so much. He folded over the pain, dropping even lower.

“I need you- to work w-with me- Detective-” Nureyev said through gritted teeth. That’s when he remembered the blaster shot.

Hell

He needed to help out- he needed to stand- He rearranged his leaden legs to gain leverage from the ground, pushing up underneath him and-

Something tore within. Like so many wet chords snapping- breaking apart. Juno cried out in agony.

“I know love- I know- but I need you to keep up the stride-”

Nureyev didn’t know- couldn’t . How would you know what it would be like? To come undone from the inside out- To have every step unravel you piece by piece.

How could you know something like that?

He wished to be belligerent, to argue back or something, but instead he just keened into Nureyev’s side, his body on fire.

“Just- a bit- more-” Juno’s stomach lurched as he was deposited back onto the cushions. Nureyev muttered something soothing in a language he couldn’t quite focus on, before messily transitioning back to Solar. “I’ll be back Love, I’ve s-strings to tie up.”

Strings to tie up- that seemed pleasant. Juno felt like his strings had been cut. He curled in on himself trying to bite back another pathetic sound. Trying to hold himself together even as his heart threatened to hammer him apart. Trying to breathe.

Just.

Breathe.

By the time Nureyev returned, Juno was feeling- not better- but certainly more stable. The thief, however, was limping worse than ever. His hair worked free of the careful styling, his complexion pallid and flushed under what remained of his foundation. He was shaking too. At least, Juno thought he was shaking, it was hard to tell through the mental fog.

“ ‘Reyev- ” he croaked.

Nureyev’s expression softened, “Juno- How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate nails fer’ breakfast- you?”

“Nails f-for breakfast? What an unusual culinary choice.”

Juno huffed in amusement immediately tensing around another throb of pain. They seemed to be getting more frequent. “Don’ make me laugh- naugh’ fair-”

“Apologies Detective.” Juno didn’t miss the way Nureyev peered out the window- Worried about being followed- the thought surfaced hazily.

“Is- are they tracking us?” Juno inquired.

“I’m not sure how they’d be track-” he trailed off, those bright eyes flashing in a shock of recognition. “Of course- Juno- that’s it!” Nureyev pressed an excited kiss into his knuckles before hobbling off to retrieve his coat, where it had been left to dry.

“Babe?” Juno asked, not following the frenzied search through all the rubbish packed in those bottomless pockets of his.

Nureyev made a triumphant noise, extracting a small bundle of cyan fletched darts, their noses buried in a cork. Juno wanted to ask, but found himself instead enjoying the flush of triumph on Nureyev’s face. It was an expression that was all Peter Nureyev without a hint of a mask, a smile pulled wide over those pointed teeth, eyes sparkling behind his glasses, hair tussled with strands framing his face.

“Do I wanna know?”

“If I told you they caught my eye- w-would you hold it against me?”

“You telling me you took ‘em because- they were shiny?” Juno chuckled, regretting the act instantly as the pain flared.

“I s-suppose that’s one interpretation-” he affirmed, freeing a dart and analyzing it. Looking for ways to disassemble the thing. The miniscule vial within was still full, which was something.

__________________________________________________________

Nureyev scrutinized the dart, turning it this way and that before gleaning an understanding of the shell’s mechanics. Sure enough, a simple twist was all it took to remove the fletching, revealing a small honing chip.

He let out a short, disappointed hum.

“I regret to inform you that your hunch was- correct.” He held the chip up for the Detective’s inspection.

“Ya-you jus’ don’ like surprises-”

“Don’t be absurd, surprises k-keep life interesting. However-” he glared at the offending chip over his glasses “T-today has already been more interesting than what w-would be comfortable.”

Juno rewarded him with a snort, his gentle hand came to rest on Nureyev’s back.

The touch was light, but sent an achy chill through him even as he chased the pressure. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t feeling well at all- and it was more than the pain in his leg. Juno’s fingers drifted up to his shoulder, his thumb tracing clumsy circles into the damp material of his shirt.

A trickle of sweat trailed down his brow accentuating the pounding in his temples. A few minutes rest- then he could deal with the microchips- somehow.

Perhaps he had said something out loud because Juno rasped “Rita-” Nureyev frowned, wondering why Juno would be bringing up his ex-secretary now. “She’ll know wha ta do-”

It snapped into place so fast it made his head spin. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d have kissed Juno on the spot. Still might.

Of course! Rita would surely be able to help them deal with the chips! Of course!

He settled in and made the call.

“Hiiiiii~ This is Rita’s Work Space Spectacular!” came her usual upbeat tone. Nureyev put her on speaker between the two of them, nothing subtle way Juno perked up.

“Rita- how god it is to hear from you-”

“Ohh! Mista Ransom! I thought you was gonna be the Captain! Checking in on the- well- never mind. But I heard you was held up somewhere safe till old Rita here can get back to you all but I’m so sorry Mista Ransom! I don’t know when the Carte Blanche will be able to circle back! I am trying my best, I really am but this is just like Delton: Age of Destruction! Where the bad guys weave a real dense net of radioactive algae to capture-”

“Rita-” Juno cut in.

“Princes Valkyrie of-”

“Rita!” he was louder now, raising himself up on an elbow with a pained hiss. “Rita- please- there's a- chip-”

“Not a Soul -” she gasped, sounding utterly terrified “Mista Steel! That took a hundred and ten percent of my energy last time, and a whole building collapsin’ on you! With everythin’ that’s going on right now I don’t know if I can-”

“N-not that Rita- we’re- ugh- ” Juno’s chest stuttered as another spasm passed through “We’re- alrigh-”

“Really Mista Steel? You don’t sound alright.” Rita’s concern mirrored Nureyev’s own. He almost envied her the luxury in indulging it instead of shoving it to a dark corner of his mind in favor of the more immediate threat. The only one he was qualified to handle.

“We have k-kept Vespa in the loop, she is aware of our situation. Juno is referring to t-the-” he trailed off pinching the bridge of his nose trying to think past the fog “the- locating- er- tracking chip. Half dozen of the things really- we require your assistance in d-dealing with them.”

“Oh! Tracking chips? Why didn’t you say something soona Mista Ransom! I can do that for you no problem! One Sec!”

Nureyev hummed appreciatively, smoothing back his slackening hair and plucking off residual crawlspace cobwebs.

“Just put the coms in front of the chips and let me see what’s what.”

“You c-can do that?” Not for the first time, Nureyev was left in awe by the resident hacker of the Carte Blanche.

“Little trick I picked up with Mista Steel!” he could practically see the large warm smile lighting her face from here. “Just gotta hack into the Universal Positioning System and tap into the uplink relay and-”

He left her to it, listening to her chirp away about anything and everything that came into her mind. He’d long held a suspicion that this display was an advanced system of a free association memory palace- rather like those remarkable drawing notes of hers. Something that seemed to be unique to Rita.

Nureyev leaned back and focused on breathing, threading his fingers with Juno’s and taking the opportunity to search the lady’s wrist for his pulse point. The Detective gave a violent full body shiver before he could locate the beat.

“Nur-” he puffed “cold-”

“Apologies.”

Juno hummed, pulling Nureyev’s arm closer to the heat of him. He was being drawn in, like a moth to a flame. A beautiful goddess by the name of Juno Steel. It was nice there, he could feel his heart through his shirt, where his arm rested against his chest. He drew nearer still, lulled by the rhythmic clacks of Rita’s fingers as they danced their way across the keys.

“Ah Ha! And there you have it! Those nasty drone demons can’t be following you any more, Mista Ransom!”

“Wait-that’s- that’s it?” Nureyev could scarce believe it.

“Yep! You’re all set! Rita took care of it for ya! Actually a lot easier than I thought it would be, which is good cuz it’s really buzzy at the moment!”

Nureyev gave her profuse thanks, a weight lifting from his chest.

“What was that Mista Ransom? Couldn’t quite understand ya there-”

“Oh- Just- t-thank you...Rita.”

“Sure thing Mista Ransom! If there’s anythin, and I mean anythin else that little ol’ Rita can help you with, don’t be afraid to give me a hollar! And, well, Just take care of yourself and Mista Steel okay? I know that ain't somethin I gotta ask with you but, you’re far away and I’m just worried sick about you two! Okay? And just in case, you should keep an eye on those little devices, just cuz I-” she cut off. Someone in the background seemed to be talking to her. “Oh, right away Captain A! Sorry Mista Ransom, I gotta go!”

“Understood, and thank you again-” but she was already gone.

Conversations with Rita usually left him mentally reeling and oddly touched in a way he couldn’t truly begin to unpack. This conversation was no different, adding to the mounting folder that was Rita in his mind.

He thought about filing this discussion away in future consideration too, but- that didn’t fit- perhaps it would be saved for an upcoming poetry session when they were once again safe aboard the Carte Blanche.

Yes- that would have to due.

And again- more evidence that something was happening on the ship-

He bit his lip, thinking- and trying his best to blot out worst case scenarios.

A hand searing with fevered heat, brushed the nape of his neck. “Babe- come under tha covers- ge-warm.”

Nureyev hummed, it sounded so inviting, and he was so cold.

“Perhaps-for a moment Love-”

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #jupeter #peter nureyev #rita redacted #juno steel #fic #fanfic #my writing #AlexandeNight #junoverse #blaster shot wound #poision #tw description of illness #etc #it's getting finished #slowly but surly!#:D

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