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[The young woman doesn't so much as double take at his state of dress - or undress. She does, for the briefest of moments, engage in what could only be called casual observation of him before he decides on putting on a shirt.]

About what?

[Poison herself is bare-legged, with shorts and a t-shirt mostly hidden by the blanket pulled around her shoulders. Said blanket drops to her elbows as she perches on the edge of his bed.]

You don't need to worry about making me uncomfortable, you know.

About, y'know, about going to the uh, to the labs.

[He adjusts his shirt a little bit and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall next to the bed and trying to act as goddamn casual as he POSSIBLY CAN ACT OKAY.]

I wasn't worried about-- I mean, I was, but uh, not- not uh...

[Clearly the casual act isn't working. He pauses, stares straight ahead for a couple seconds, like he can't believe the stupidity that's coming out of his mouth, and then starts over.]

I just. Didn't want to uh... I figured standing around half naked with a girl in my room would be... inappropriate?

Inappropriate?

[The casual act isn't working, and that isn't what she was asking about. Poison gives him a long, steady look with those peculiarly violet eyes and bunches the blanket up in her lap as she leans forward with a slight, speculative squint.]

... Who were you going to tell?

[Peter, come on now.]

[SEE he was terrible at talking to girls even back home, and he's still a total disaster. He got all focused on the wrong thing and now shes on another thing and now he's all flustered and shifting awkwardly on his feet and oh god what is happening her eyes are so violet how is that even a color???]

I-- what? No! I just- I didn't want to be rude, y'know?

...I think we got a little off track.

[If this issue happened to be raised, Poison would say that he is absolutely fine at talking to girls. After all, he's talked to her enough times hasn't he?

She doesn't really grasp the subtlety of the problem.]

Oh, right... [Yes, they did do that, didn't they. Her eyes go to the floor and she huffs out a breath through her nose.]

I couldn't sleep.

[That's different. Somehow. He has no idea how but it's totally different.

Maybe it isn't, but shhhh.

BUT ANYWAY, now that they're getting back on topic, Peter manages to relax.]

Right. Bad dream, you said? Do, um. Do you wanna talk about it?

[She kicks her heels lightly against the floor, frowning just enough to furrow in a small line between her eyebrows. With her head tipped forwards her face is mostly hidden by her hair, and she hates how hard it is to talk about this kind of thing with her voice.

Maybe she should have stayed in bed.]

It was the Box. I dream about the Box a lot.

[Since they're talking all serious business-like right now, he feels a little weird all looming over her while she talks. SO, he's going to relocate his butt to the floor, sitting cross legged in front of her.]

From what you've told me, it totally sounds like the kind of place that would give people pretty bad dreams.

[He won't press her for specific details, figuring that if she wants to talk about it, she'll bring it up.]

[When he sits like that, she looks at him and laughs very, very softly. Barely a laugh at all, but the smile is there. It's a sweet gesture.]

Mm. It was. [Is? She isn't sure. She hopes it's gone.

Poison quiets, then pokes one of her bare feet out from underneath the blanket. Around her ankle are several strange, thick scars, like something pushed the skin upwards from the inside.]

They grew under my skin. Plants. Like vines. [She frowns.] A man called Levi cut them out before they could kill me.

[He gives her a little grin when she smiles, but that's gone as soon as she starts explaining those scars. He does a good job of not looking completely horrified, but he definitely looks concerned.

Jesus. How... how did it even get there?

[She shrugs.]

The same way that everything else they did to us got there. They just... used us, like experiments. [Poison frowns again and shakes her head.]

It was terrible.

[he just nods in agreement. Ooooh yeah man it sounds super terrible and he kind of wants to hug her. Maybe in a minute.]

I'm sorry you had to go through that. That's... I can't even imagine what that must have been like.

... I'm really glad you can't, Peter.

[Because there are very few people she would wish that kind of existence on at all, even people she very much dislikes. She likes Peter a lot, and wouldn't ever want to see him suffering like that.]

That kind of pain... I don't want you to ever have to know what it's like.

[He's dealt with some pretty bad shit before, but nothing like the kind of stuff Poison had gone through. It pisses him off that there's nothing he can really do about it. There's nobody he can fight and nothing he can fix, and he's kind of shit at advice when it comes to things he, y'know, knows nothing about.]

I mean, even so, I wish I could have been there with you.

[The vines thing wasn't even the worst of it. At least the vines thing didn't kill her. Or the starvation. Or that one escaped virus that slowly liquefied people's insides.

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, pushing the threatening push of memories that she doesn't want. It makes her shudder subtly.]

You're very sweet. [Poison says then, looking at him with another of those small smiles.] What do you think you would have done, if you were there too?

[Like yeah she's smiling at him, but everything else about her body language has him concerned. He scoots himself closer, leaning against the bed next to Poison's legs and takes a moment to think her question over.]

Well... I guess I can't say for sure, y'know? I can't sit here and just say for certain that I could have found and stopped whoever was hurting you. I don't know how I would have been able to fix anything, or to... to make anything better. But I would have tried, and-- and at the very least, like, yeah. I could have been there for you. Could have been good for morale, who knows. I've been told that my optimism is contagious, but also really annoying.

[He's really hoping the joking isn't super inappropriate.]

[She thinks over what he says. It's... nice. It's really nice. And while she did have people at the time that she could lean on, she couldn't say it wouldn't have been good to have Peter there too.

Poison shifts forwards, moves off the bed and slides onto the floor next to him. She draws her knees up slightly, and leans her shoulder against his arm.]

It isn't annoying.

But is it contagious?

[Okay, two things. One, Peter is relieved that his joking hadn't resulted in awkwardness or her being offended. Awesome, good, that's good. She seems to me okay with it and this is good.

Second, now they're both sitting on the floor next to each other in his room and hmmm this was unexpected whaT IS HE SUPPOSED TO DO NOW??? Is he supposed to just sit there? Is he supposed to put an arm around her shoulders? Is that too forward? It's way to forward. Might make things awkward, and they were already teetering on the edge of awkward if only because Peter is like 80% awkward at all times. So he settles for gently nudging her arm with his elbow playfully.

There. Not awkward. Nailed it.]

I was kind of joking, but um. Thanks. I don't really hear that a lot.

[It can be pretty hard to stay optimistic when you're dealing with all this bullshit, but he tries. Tries to spread it around. It doesn't always work.]

[Her nose scrunches slightly when she smiles.]

Maybe a little contagious. [Maybe, a little. It's hard to stay pessimistic when someone around you is looking so fiercely at the bright side that they might go blind from it.

She glances down at her arm when he nudges her, then back up at his face. Then, she nudges him very gently back. Not awkward at all, there you go, Pete.]

Have you ever wanted to give up? I mean... really give up.

[He can't help but give her a dopey grin, but it doesn't last very long after she asks that question. That shit got deep, man, that shit got real deep.

He doesn't reply right away. It's the kind of thing he needs to stop and think about, maybe do a quick self analysis. He usually keeps himself busy trying to look out for everyone else, so when he has to stop like this and really think about his whole deal, it kind of throws off his groove. So he pauses, his gaze shifting from Poison to the wall while he figures his shit out.]

I don't... I don't know that I'd say I've ever wanted to? I mean, I've definitely thought about it. I think I've felt like it would be way easier if I could give up, but I've never felt like I could. Like... like giving up just isn't an option for me. And I don't... I don't know, I guess. It's just, uh, there are so many people here that I can help. That I have to help, and if I give up on myself, I'm giving up on them too. Maybe... maybe this isn't good for me? But I feel like if it wasn't for all of you, I probably would have given up by now.

So uh, I guess the answer to that is "kind of"?

[He's less concerned about his own well being than he is with everyone else's, and it's 100% the only thing keeping him going these days. This isn't really something he's talked about with anyone else, so he isn't sure how to approach it. Hence the rambling, good job Pete.]

... Sorry, that was a weird question to ask you.

[Yet, somehow, that answer was exactly what she expected to hear. Peter's the kind of person who wants to help, and who wants to help everyone, and who can find a purpose in that.

He'd make a terrible Hierophant.]

But I understand. I really do.

[She rests her head back against the side of the bed, and sighs.]

I spent a lot of my life by myself. I suppose that was a choice. No one really liked me, anyway. Having people rely on me was... strange.

I like you.

[There it is, he just blurts that out before his brain even realizes what his mouth is doing. Which is not abnormal for Peter, that's like his constant state of being and he's just learned to accept that ridiculous part of himself. In this case though, he's wishing he'd rolled with something a little less blunt, like "I can't believe nobody liked you whaaaaaaat" or something. Too late now, though.

Shit, was he being quiet for too long? Shit, it was getting awkward again DAMMIT PETER

Okay, okay, he's got this. He's just gonna quickly bring the conversation back to an earlier point and pretend this thing didn't happen.]

But uh, it- it's fine. That's not even close to the weirdest question I've ever gotten. My best friend back home asked me if I laid eggs once, and he like, actually meant it.

[She doesn't reply, at first. Not because the sentiment is unexpected (she assumes he likes her, at least a little), but because he actually said it out loud. It gives him time enough to move on to a rushing backstep, though at least it's something that makes her laugh.]

Oh, no, really? [Spirits, she doesn't want to think too hard about spiders, or anything about spiders, but the idea of it! She laughs again, quieter, then she turns her face to him and pulls her blanket in a little tighter around her frame.]

I like you too, Peter.

[He really shouldn't worry so much.]

[That could have gone WAY WORSE. I mean he made himself a little homesick and he misses his BFF Ned like crazy, but it'll be fine. He'll just ignore this problem too.

But anyway, she's laughing, things aren't too awkward, this is good. Peter can let himself relax. Which he does. For a second, but then she's all "I like you too" and he's like "oh GOD WHAT NOW". It's fine, she just means as a friend, you can like your friends. They're just friends and this is friend-level liking. Totally normal. Stop grinning like that Peter, Jesus.

...Okay the grinning won't stop so maybe another subject shift is in order. Like the way she pull the blanket around herself a little tighter. THAT WORKS.]

Are you getting cold? We don't have to keep sitting on the floor.

Hm? No, not really.

[That's a lie, and one followed up almost immediately by her getting up off the floor and pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. That grin on his face sticks in her mind even when she isn't looking at him, and she grins at the floor, tucking her hair up behind one of her ears.

Just friend-liking. Sure. Why not. That's definitely why she feels so light on her feet.]

Do we have anything to make a hot drink with?

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