#and i am sorry i did nureyev dirty in this but lmao i didn't know what else to do

[junosteellovebot]

(Sooooo you know that thing I said I was going to write? Well. I wrote it. Enjoy.)

Juno didn’t know what to think. He knew what he was supposed to be feeling, but the problem was he didn’t feel...anything. Just numbness. Maybe it would sink in eventually, but right now the mantra in his head saying Nureyev is gone Nureyev is gone just made him think that he should have expected it. He should have seen it coming. Hell, he probably even deserved it.

***

He was back in his mom’s apartment, except it wasn’t. It was kind of a mix of all the different places he had lived, with the living room couch from his Hyperion place and the kitchen from the Carte Blanche and a layout that definitely did not match its real life counterpart. Everything was a bit fuzzy. The scenery changed around him periodically. Standard dream activity.

Sarah was there, yelling at him, saying all the things he had replayed in his mind over and over again. He knew this conversation by heart, because it was probably the worst one he’d ever had. He wished he could forget it.

Juno felt the dread rising in him, the familiar sense of wrongness, the sick feeling that rapidly turned into panic as his mind pieced together what she was saying. He was at the door, knocking at first, then pounding, then banging on it with both fists. “Ben! Benten, open this door!” He wasn’t really controlling what he was doing. It was all reflex, instinct; he had relived this so many times. It just felt like he was a marionette, his limbs being pulled by the strings. 

Sarah tossed him the keys, smiled an awful smile, then she disappeared as if she had never been there at all. Juno shoved the key into the lock, wrenched open the door, and scrambled into the bedroom. 

It never felt real, not even the first time. Benzaiten couldn’t be dead because he was all Juno had. Benzaiten couldn’t be dead because he was Juno’s twin brother and they were two halves of the same soul and had always been. Benzaiten couldn’t be dead because if he was, Juno would have felt it. Benzaiten couldn’t be dead because if he was, Juno should have been dead with him. He should have been there, he should have saved him-

There were a million reasons Benten couldn’t be dead, but none of them mattered because he was. He was laying there, eyes closed, limbs sprawled out across the floor. Maybe Juno could convince himself that he was only sleeping, except for all the blood. It was everywhere, there was so much of it. He couldn’t even tell where the wound was.

Juno was certain that his heart completely stopped in that moment. Everything seemed to stop, even time itself. Juno’s thoughts screamed in his head, but everything else was completely silent.

He was pretty sure he whispered “No,” but it was probably something more along the lines of “No no nonononono it’s not it can’t be oh shit oh shit no no no no-” and then time started again and Juno was running toward his brother and checking his pulse and putting his arms around him and shaking him but he wouldn’t wake up and the realization crashed down on his head like a bucket of ice water and it all came out in one agonized scream of “BEN-”

But he wasn’t there anymore. Everything was dark, then he was tingly all over, then he was lurched awake in his bed. Juno was breathing hard, his heart beating furiously in his chest. He was drenched in sweat, but he was shivering- no, not shivering, just shaking. He gripped the blanket in one hand and buried his face in the other, taking a few shaky breaths. His cheeks were wet with tears he didn’t remember crying. He could still hear his scream reverberating through the walls.

Shit.

“Come on, Steel,” he whispered to himself, but his choked-up voice wasn’t very reassuring. “Come on. This is, like, the five-hundredth time this has happened.” It wasn’t especially comforting. He had nightmares about that day a lot, and they got even worse when he was feeling bad. It was safe to say it had not been the best week for him.

Juno laid back down and stared at the ceiling. He took deep breaths and kept as still as he could for a few moments. Eventually his heart rate slowed, his breathing evened, and he managed to calm himself down. He was pretty practiced at that.

He was almost ready to go back to sleep when there was a knock at his door. He sighed and cursed under his breath. Apparently everyone had heard him scream bloody murder in the dead of night. This was going to be a really fun conversation.

The knock came again. “Juno, darling, is everything all right?” It was Buddy, of course, her voice muffled from the other side of the door. 

Crossing his fingers this would be the easy way out, he replied, “Uh, yup. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” 

Buddy sighed audibly. “Seeing as how your voice was about two octaves too high, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that was a lie the size of Jupiter.”

Juno rubbed his forehead, still not moving. “Really, Buddy, it’s fine. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Unless you want me to get Jet to force this door open-”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” With a groan, he kicked off the covers and headed towards the door to let her in. It slid open, revealing Buddy Aurinko with silk pajamas on, her red hair in front of her face as always, and her ‘concerned’ expression that was evolving into solely a ‘concerned about Juno’ expression. It was one she made often. He bit his lip, looking away from her. “Come in, I guess.” He was distinctly aware that 1) it was obvious he had been crying, and 2) he just looked like shit in general. Juno was still getting used to the whole vulnerability thing. It felt a bit uncomfortable.

She accepted his invitation and stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her. Juno climbed back onto his bed and sat cross-legged, looking down at his lap, waiting for the inevitable lecture. Buddy sat on the edge of the bed and just looked at him for a minute or two. Her eyes were soft, filled with something that wasn’t quite pity. Was it sympathy? Understanding? Maybe it was just sorrow. 

Juno waited and waited, squirming a little bit. After what seemed like forever, she said simply, “Well?”

Hyper-aware that his chin was still quivering slightly, he summoned all the attitude he could and replied, “Well what?”

Buddy gave him a look. “Juno.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know! What do you want me to say!?” It sounded defensive even to him, and a tad bit petulant.

She sighed again and leaned back on her elbows. “Just...talk it out with me, darling. Heaven knows I’ve had my share of nightmares as well.”

Juno stared at his knee, picking at a phantom scab. He never talked about his dreams with people, not even Rita. Mostly because he didn’t want to think about them. There was something about Buddy, though, that made you feel like you could tell her anything and not get judged for it. And this wouldn’t be the first time he’d shared something personal with her. If nothing else, it would make her go away faster and then he could go back to sleep and wake up the next day and forget anything had happened.

He swallowed, not looking up. “I dunno. It was just...a dream. I’ve had it loads of times before.” Juno drummed his fingers on the back of his neck, trying to figure out what to say next. He could feel Buddy’s eyes on him, but she waited patiently for him to continue. He cleared his throat in an effort to maintain some semblance of dignity. “It was...uh. Something that happened to me a while ago. A pretty bad experience.” He winced. “The worst, actually.”

Juno glanced up at Buddy, who gave him a sad, knowing smile. He wasn’t exactly sure how much she knew about his past. She’d had Jet stalk him for months, and had almost definitely done extensive research on him before letting him onto the crew, so it was entirely possible she knew precisely what he was talking about. Then again, Rita had known more about Nureyev than Buddy had. Either was possible.

Ben would have liked Nureyev, Juno thought, for probably the five-hundredth time. He’d told Nureyev that, too. The past few times he’d had this particular nightmare, it was Peter who had woken him up and held him and calmed him down. It was Peter who had listened to him ramble about his brother in a teary, sleep-deprived haze. About Ben’s smile and mischievous eyes and the way he danced like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet’s surface. Juno never talked about Ben like that, with anyone. But somehow in the middle of the night, clinging to Nureyev, with all the love and pain stored up inside of him for so long, the tears spilled down his face and the words spilled out of his mouth.

For one reason or another, everything Juno had been feeling chose that minute to overflow, and he burst into tears.

He scrunched his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands, and didn’t flinch away when Buddy put an arm around his shaking shoulders. “Shhh, darling,” she said, leaning her forehead against the top of his head. “I know, I know.”

She rocked him back and forth a little, humming softly. Juno leaned into her and just let himself cry.

“I keep-” he let out a sob, shaking his head back and forth. “I keep...losing people.” He sniffed, looking up at her with watery eyes. “I don’t know how to stop losing people. I don’t know how to stop...missing people who are already gone.”

Juno looked at her expectantly, desperate for some kind of answer. Buddy rubbed his back, staring at the wall for a second before turning back to him. 

“Well, I can tell you that you don’t really ever stop missing them. You carry them with you, thinking about them without dwelling on it.” She paused for a moment, and looked at him seriously. “There are some things that we don’t get over, Juno. There are some things we can’t move past. Instead of trying to forget, we learn how to live with them.” There was a faraway look in Buddy’s eyes, something almost wistful. Juno had a feeling Buddy’s life before being a professional criminal had some melancholy bits to it. Maybe he would ask her about it, one day.

He let out something that was equally a chuckle and a sob. “You’d think...I would’ve gotten the hang of it, after fifteen years.”

Buddy smiled at him. “We never stop growing, Juno. I should know. I am a great deal older than you.”

“I might just take your advice, o wise and ancient soul.” This time it was more of a laugh.

“Oh, you’d better. I’ll have you know that my advice is absolutely superior to anyone else’s in the galaxy.” 

“Hey, no arguments from me.” Juno smiled at her, and Buddy smiled back, and she gave his shoulder a squeeze before sliding off the bed.

“Goodnight, Juno,” she said.

“Yeah, ‘night.” he reached over to turn out his lamp, and paused. “And Buddy?”

“Hmm?” She turned back.

“Thanks.”

***

It was now five days and sixteen hours since Nureyev had left. It took everything Juno had not to count it down to the minutes. He wanted to hate Nureyev for it and he wanted to beat himself up for not seeing it coming but he couldn’t do either. The worst thing about it was that he didn’t know why. One minute they were asleep next to each other, then there was only Juno, alone. They should have known better than to land for a full night to refuel. They should have known better than to give Nureyev the code to the vault where their stolen items were. They should have known better they should have known better-

(Everything came down to I should have known better than to trust Nureyev. But it had been nice, for a while, to think that he could.)

***

Juno had several bouts of fitful sleep for the rest of the night. He didn’t plunge back into the nightmare, which was a relief. At somewhere around five o’clock in the morning, he thought to hell with it and rolled out of bed. It was time to stop kidding himself; sleep wasn’t coming for him again.

After getting dressed and such, he wandered around the ‘Blanche’s halls. Following Nureyev’s disappearance, the crew had been at a bit of a loss for how to proceed. Rita thought they should explore other ways of obtaining the Curemother, Vespa campaigned for catching up to ‘that sorry bastard’ and ‘lighting his lungs on fire’, however that worked. Jet was unsurprisingly impartial. Buddy had decided that they were going to lay low for a little bit while she came up with a new plan for what their next move should be. Everyone was understandably in low spirits.

Juno shivered, running a finger along the wall beside him. It was chilly, he probably should have brought a coat. He passed through the kitchen and the rec area and was surprised to see light flooding in from the garage. He stepped inside to find Jet hunched over the hood of the Ruby 7, fiddling with pieces of machinery Juno couldn’t have named with a gun to his head. At least Nureyev had the decency to leave Ruby, he thought glumly.

“Hey, Big Guy,” he said, leaning back against the side of the car. “What are you doing in here so early?”

“Hello Juno,” Jet replied pleasantly, not looking up. “I often have trouble sleeping. I have found that working on the Ruby 7 is an adequate alternative.” He wiped his hands on a towel and turned to Juno. “And you?”

He shrugged. “Same, I guess. Couldn’t sleep.” Juno cringed a little bit as he was reminded that Jet and the others had heard his scream as well. Maybe everyone would just pretend it had never happened. Oh, well. A little embarrassment never killed anyone. 

Still. He wasn’t really in the mood for a psychoanalysis, and Jet had a tendency to drop poignant wisdom no matter how early in the day it was. “I’m going to, ah, get something to eat. Catch ya later.” He was about to walk away, but Jet frowned at him.

“It is too cold to be without a jacket,” Jet said in his matter-of-fact tone. “The temperature system has been malfunctioning periodically ever since the crash landing.”

Juno looked down at his oversized tie-dyed t-shirt and was about to jokingly ask what was wrong with it when Jet draped his brown trench coat over Juno’s shoulders. It was, safe to say, ginormous, and absolutely swallowed him. Juno gave him a look. Jet just smiled at him and returned to his work.

Juno sighed, tugged the coat tighter around him, and exited the garage. The coat was heavy and nearly dragged on the floor, but it was the good kind of weight. Comforting instead of constraining. And he couldn’t help but feel a little ray of happiness light up inside him. Usually Rita was the only one who liked him enough to loan him clothes.

***

Everyone else on the crew had been so furious with Nuryev they could barely say his name. Part of this seemed to be an act of support on Juno’s behalf, but Juno wasn’t furious. The only thing he felt was a dull ache of sadness, and a defeated sense that it would have happened sooner or later. It was hard to convince himself the betrayal wasn’t a direct response to the abandoned hotel room in Hyperion City. The thing was, he didn’t even think of it as a ‘betrayal’. Nureyev was a thief. Changing his loyalties was an inherent part of who he was, wasn’t it? Juno was the one who had been kidding himself that they could have a real future.

***

Juno had been strolling leisurely, but upon hearing several crashing sounds and yelps coming from the kitchen, he sped up to a power-walk. He entered to find Rita perched on a chair surrounded by piles of upended pots and pans. He paused in the doorway, mid-flinch. “Do I even want to know?” he asked.

“Oh!” Rita turned to him, a guilty smile on her face. “Hi there, Mistah Steel. I woke up super early, and I heard you and Mistah Jet talking, and thought, I could surprise everyone by making breakfast for them! Well, not the Captain, I guess, but, ya know. It’s just...everyone’s been so down lately. I thought I could cheer us all up.” Juno deflated a little bit, and Rita noticed, quickly changing the subject. “Then I realized. I’ve never actually cooked anything on this ship before! And I couldn’t reach the cabinets. And...well...I wasn’t sure what to cook, either.” She donned a serious expression. “This is quite a conundrum I’m having, boss.” 

Juno chuckled, making his way to her. “I think the first step would be to get off of that chair.”

“Yes, sir!” Rita hopped to the floor with a salute. 

Juno shook his head with a smile. He stacked the pots and pans and shoved them back in their places, keeping out the ones they would need. He instructed Rita to fetch pancake batter ingredients from the fridge, and they got to work. 

Juno was quite a good cook. It was one of the many skills he had had to teach himself as a kid. Sarah had come home from work late most nights, and she never had much patience for housework. That had all been up to the twins.

Juno and Ben both liked to cook, though they had different means of approaching it. Juno always followed the recipe word-for-word, while Benten preferred freehanding it. There had been more than a few petty squabbles over that, most of which ended in both boys covered in flour and laughing so hard they cried. Cooking was one of the things they did together, no matter how their days had gone or how big of an argument they were in the middle of. It was a way of releasing the tension, of having an excuse to talk things out with each other. And if one of them wasn’t ready to talk yet, the conversation would be about how melted the butter should be or whether it would be better to use a whisk or a spoon. It was a safe place, for both of them.

Juno thought about that, as he helped Rita fix the pancakes and laughed when she accidentally flipped one to the other side of the kitchen. He thought about what Ben would say to all of this. He wasn’t sure if it helped or made it worse, but he did it all the same.

Rita wasn’t as subtle as Jet. She didn’t bring up his nightmare, but Juno caught her glancing at him with concern several times. She actually knew the full story, and had helped him through periods like this before. He just wished he could tell her he was okay without actually mentioning it.

When he was putting the last batch of pancakes on the griddle, Rita came up and hugged him from behind. He put his hands over hers and squeezed. “Rita?” he asked, after a minute.

“Sorry, boss,” she replied, releasing him. “Just…” she shrugged. “You know I’m here, right?”

“Yeah.” Juno took a deep breath. “Yeah, Rita, I do. Thanks.”

“Great!” She beamed at him. “Okay, Mistah Steel. I’ll go get the others. Let’s EAT!”

He grinned and followed her lead.

***

Juno missed Nureyev. He missed him a whole lot. Sometimes he wondered what his reason had been, or how long he had been planning his escape. Mostly he just missed him, though.

***

The rest of the day went on mostly normal. Juno didn’t see much of the crew; they gave him space, which he appreciated. They weren’t avoiding him, but they weren’t suffocating him, either. It was a pretty good balance. 

It was fairly uneventful. After the breakfast hijinks, they worked on the Blanche’s repairs (it had been operative yet prone to small malfunctions ever since they left the beach,) did menial tasks, and brainstormed their next move. Not much was accomplished. 

That night, Juno tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling for an indeterminable amount of time. Part of him wanted to go to sleep, because he was tired. The other part of him was a little bit terrified that he would have the nightmare again, or possibly a different nightmare even worse than that one. Ah, the duality.

At some point he knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep, at least not right then. He made the decision to put on a bathrobe and slippers and head to the kitchen for something to drink.

Juno expected the kitchen to be dark and empty, but as he approached it, he saw that the light was on. He walked in to find Vespa seated at the table with her legs pulled under her, glowering intently at what seemed to be an empty bowl. 

“Uh, Vespa?” he asked, walking over to the fridge. “Everything okay?”

Breaking out of her concentration, she jumped, startled, and turned her sour expression to him. “What are you doing here, Steel?”

“Just getting something to drink,” he said truthfully, digging through the fridge until he found a bottle of some kind of juice. Or maybe it was a dangerous chemical. He was too sleep deprived to tell the difference.

“Interrupting my only hour of peace is what you’re doing,” she huffed under her breath. Juno ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to fight with Vespa right now. 

“Decided to go nocturnal?” he asked, reaching for a cup from a cabinet and pouring in his juice slash chemical slash gasoline.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” she replied defensively. “Besides, you never know what could happen. It’s good to have at least one person awake and alert.” She mumbled something about persuading Buddy to coordinate nightly watch routines, and Juno elected to ignore that as well.

“Couldn’t sleep either,” he said with a yawn, taking a sip of his drink and sitting down at the table. Phew. Just juice. He squinted at her bowl, which she was still regarding with suspicion. “Has that bowl done something to offend you?”

Vespa shot him a dubious glance and folded her arms together on the table, resting her chin on them. She still stared at the bowl out of the corner of her eye. After a moment’s hesitation and a fair bit of squirming, she explained, “It’s crawling with roaches. At least,” she rolled her eyes, “That’s what I see. I was almost positive that they weren’t real, but I wasn’t about to eat cereal with any possibility of there also being bugs in it.” 

“That’s...understandable.” Juno gulped down some more of the juice. He never knew quite what to say to Vespa in regards to her hallucinations. Especially since she tended to get angry no matter what he said or how carefully thought-through his words were. He didn’t know if she wanted sympathy or encouragement or for the subject to be ignored completely. 

There was something about her right then, though. Face half hidden in her elbow, guarded expression wary of everything around her, dark bags under her eyes. She seemed so...vulnerable. Like a caged animal. Juno felt a sudden urge to break the ice between them. He was tired of all the tension, tired of all the mistrust. Maybe it was a night for answers. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked slowly.

Vespa’s eyebrows drew together. “Sure. Whatever.”

Juno took a deep breath in, and said, “Why do you hate me so much?”

This was clearly not a question she had been expecting. She grunted, and leaned back in her chair. “Well. For one, you’re an insufferable smartass.”

Juno laughed. “You got me there.” He was about to venture into more lighthearted conversation, but stopped as he noticed how conflicted Vespa’s face was, like she was debating with herself whether or not to say something. He decided not to push her, but waited patiently and sipped his juice.

Vespa fidgeted with her sleeve, looking off to the side. “There’s also…” she hesitated, and cleared her throat. “There’s another reason.”

“Yeah?” Juno asked in what he hoped was an encouraging yet acceptably non-pushy tone.

She mumbled something to herself that sounded a lot like to hell with it and squeezed her eyes shut, balling her hands into fists. “I have...hallucinations. Of you. A lot.” Vespa spoke in a rush, like she was trying to get it over with. “You say a lot of not very pleasant things in them. Mostly about me. I’m no good at differentiating between the real you and the in-my-head you.” She shook her head, twice, then opened her eyes. “Roaches are gone,” she whispered. She wouldn’t look at Juno.

Juno’s knuckles were white from clutching his cup. He didn’t have a suitable response to that. “Oh,” he said, a bit lamely. He glanced down at his hands. “Vespa, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged.

They sat there in silence for a minute or so. Neither of them quite knew what to say. Then, Vespa blurted out, “Am I crazy?”

“Of course not,” Juno said immediately, and it didn’t sound like he was trying to reassure her. It just sounded like the truth. 

She nodded thoughtfully, and Juno got the thought he had just passed some kind of test. They weren’t fixed; it would take more than exhaustion and a little bit of honesty to do that. But maybe they were a little less distant than they had been ten minutes ago. He gave her a small smile and said the only thing he could think of. “Want some cereal?”

Vespa chuckled, and Juno grinned. It was possible that was the first time he had made her laugh. “Sure, Steel.”

He retrieved the cereal box, milk, and a spoon, and set them next to her bowl. She shook in the cereal and poured in the milk and munched on it while Juno scavenged for a bagel, or anything bagel-like.

They ate together quietly, just two criminals in a spaceship kitchen at four in the morning. There was calm between them, for the first time. Maybe it made both of them a little braver than normal, because when Vespa was nearing the end of her bowl of cereal, she asked, “Who’s Ben?”

Juno looked up from his bagel, taken aback. “What did you say?”

“It was a simple question, Steel.” She set her spoon in the bowl and crossed her arms.

Juno was quiet for a minute. Vespa was the last person he had expected to go through this with. In fact, he had assumed she would aggressively ignore it. He had just been starting to take his mind off the nightmare, too. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t go all asshole on me. It’s your turn now.” 

Juno looked to the side, uncomfortable. He wasn’t getting out of this. “Someone I used to know,” he mumbled simply.

He glanced at her, and Vespa held his gaze. Her expression was unreadable. “You do know that I could skewer you right now, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, actually. Got the nine-inch scar to prove it.” It was a low blow, and he knew it.

Vespa gave him a hard look. “Juno.”

Juno blinked. He was almost positive that Vespa had never called him by his first name before. 

Something Buddy had said the day before popped into his head. We never stop growing, Juno. Maybe she was right. Maybe he still had a lot of growing to do. 

Maybe he could do it without Nureyev. Maybe it was time to let go.

“He was my twin brother.” The words were tumbling out before Juno had a chance to think. “Benzaiten Steel- Ben.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Vespa replied.

Juno nodded. “Yeah. He’s been gone, for a while now.”

Vespa seemed to understand, but she pressed forward. “What happened to him?”

“He, uh.” Juno looked down. It was hard to say out loud. “He got shot. By our mom.”

Vespa raised her eyebrows. “Damn.” She took a breath. “That is fucked up, Steel.”

“Don’t I know it,” he agreed softly.

He thought she was done, but Vespa asked, “Did he look like you?”

Juno chuckled, surprising himself. “Yeah. You could tell us apart pretty easy; different hairstyles, very different fashion senses. But, yeah. We looked a lot alike.”

Vespa pushed away her cereal bowl and leaned her elbows on the table. “Tell me about him,” she said.

And he did. 

Juno didn’t know how long they sat there at the kitchen table, but it felt like a place removed from time. He talked, and talked, and Vespa listened. He told her about the big things and the little things, things he barely remembered and things he knew by heart. He told her about all the different parts to his brother, the important ones and the silly ones, though he reasoned that nothing about a person was silly if it made them who they were.

When he had finally run out of words, Vespa held out her hand over the kitchen table. “Truce?” she asked quietly.

Juno smiled at her, and shook her hand. “Truce.”

When he finally made it back to his quarters, it was five o’clock and had officially been twenty-four hours since he had last slept. He kicked off his slippers and hung up his bathrobe and frowned when he spotted a steaming mug of...something, sitting on his nightstand. It had definitely not been there when he had left.

It was partially obscuring a tiny note beneath it. Juno slid it out and saw that it was written in Jet’s handwriting.

I know you aren’t fond of tea, it read, but this helps. Trust me.

When had Jet had the time to slip a mug of tea into his room? How had Jet gotten into his room at all? 

It didn’t particularly matter to Juno right that second. “Thanks, Big Guy,” he whispered to himself.

That night, he went right to sleep and had no dreams at all.