♠ | 012 | Video + Spam

[lastrat]

[Backdated to Saturday! James is looking p l e n t y pissed when he clicks on the camera, and for a moment there is just an incredibly pissed off face - and then he focuses the feed on his other hand, which is holding a book (naval war history). Except on closer inspection, he's not holding it at all. It's actually stuck to the palm of his hand.]

Parker, if you don't get in here and tell me how to turn this off, I swear I'm going to wring your neck.

[It was a lot funnier when he was just hearing about it happening to Peter, okay.]

[Spam for Vesper]

(Continued from here.)

[Take the bloody shot. It echoes in his thoughts, his ears, along with the clink of pressing his glass against Le Chiffre's in a toast, and he can feel his saliva foam, can taste blood (he's bitten into his lip), can taste the drink and it's killing him, killing him--

He doesn't wake until after Megamind's gone, but it feels like a lifetime, time has slowed to kill him a thousand different ways. He's jerking around on the bed, tangling himself up in his sheets, no doubt hurting himself, but instead of the pain waking him up, it's just further fueling the dreams.]

Comments

[myresponsibility]

I know, just- relax. I know it's weird.

[Now is probably not a good time to remind him to be extra careful when he touches stuff right. B(]

[lastrat]

[Nope. :| James is just keeping the glare up for a moment longer before looking down at his hand. It takes a bit - and a few frustratingly deep breaths - but it finally drops away from his palm.]

I can't believe a spider did this to you.

[myresponsibility]

Yeah, believe me, I couldn't either.

[And now that he's reasonably certain that he's not about to get punched in the face, Peter goes to sit down in the chair next to his bed with a sigh, running his hands quickly through his hair.] How're you doing otherwise?

[lastrat]

Fantastic. [That sarcasm may burn, be careful. But a thought occurs to him, and he glances sidelong at Peter.] Do you heal faster than normal?

[myresponsibility]

[Peter hesitates, thinking that over. He touches his face where some of the gashes were from his fight with Dr. Connors, because there's definitely no scarring there, and he kind of felt like they had healed quickly. He wasn't sure, though.]

I don't know. I mean, I don't have that many scars, and I've been walking okay on my leg ever since it healed after I got shot, so. Maybe?

[lastrat]

[He purses his lips at that, albeit briefly, and rubs a hand idly over his sternum.]

Can't say I'd object to that taking effect.

[myresponsibility]

I'll keep my fingers crossed. [And he wonders if there's something someone like Merlin would be able to do, if Bond asked for it. He knew Merlin was careful not to use magic on anyone who was uncomfortable with it, and Bond wasn't exactly a fan of that kind of stuff.] How much longer are you gonna be stuck in here?

[lastrat]

[Fuck your magic cures, how does he know that won't fuck him over in the long run. B|]

Who bloody knows. [It's a mutter, but the look in his eyes turns keen.] Come to think of it, I believe I've reached the end of my stay.

[myresponsibility]

[Peter gets that look, and he can't help but grin at it.] Anything you wanna pack up before we spring you?

[lastrat]

[Good man.]

I think I'll leave those books you brought me.

[myresponsibility]

Sounds good. [He offers him a hand, eying him a little warily because this is going to be more awkward now that he's just a skinny teenager again.]

So, how do you want to do this?

[lastrat]

Thought maybe I could climb the ceiling out. [No not really. He glances toward the office and grimaces before pushing himself up. Why don't you just keep an eye out. Though I'm sure he'd disagree, he doesn't have eyes in the back of his head.

[He doesn't expect slipping out of the infirmary to be a feat worthy of a mission impossible movie.]

[myresponsibility]

Okay. [But he's looking at Bond like he's not sure if he's going to do a faceplant, so while he might technically be looking out for Dr. Banner, he's also definitely hovering and not wandering too far in case you become gravity's bitch. B(]

[lastrat]

[Oh my god Peter fuck off he's fine. B(

Well no not fine but. He manages to stand and not fall flat on his face, which is a win. He presses a hand against his ribs as if to hold them in place, but he gets up and it's smooth enough and he is just heading right for the goddamned door.]

[myresponsibility]

[And Peter is trailing behind, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one's paying attention to their escape attempt.

(Admittedly, he is on the staff and everything, so this really shouldn't be a problem, but. He's not a doctor.)

Still, he trails behind more or enthusiastically, already wondering how he's going to sell this to Vesper if she's pissed about it.]