Brainiac 5 dropped his gaze and looked away. He suddenly felt vaguely uncomfortable about discussing this, so busied himself with dragging over his notebook and scanning the lines of print instead. "Your concern is," he began, then paused, searching for a word before giving up. "I appreciate it. But this isn't the way to help the situation. You'll just make a target of yourself and I can't..."
He drew in a shuddering breath, struggling to keep himself under control. "I can't let someone else be hurt because of me..."
It was harder to keep the memories at bay now, in this room. It might look as though nothing had changed to differ it from his very first night here, but Brainiac 5 could still remember the exact place a scalpel had buried into the wall, or how the blood had soaked his clothing and speckled the floor. And it was all too easy to imagine that it might look like that again in the future. No. He couldn't, wouldn't allow Peter to be hurt - or worse - as well. If someone else were to die because of him, if Peter were to die because of him--
He didn't know if he would be able to handle that.
Unfortunately Peter didn't seem to understand how dangerous Grell was. Clark had been far from defenceless, but he'd fallen and been taken from him. And now Grell had hinted at gaining a new weapon of some kind, and Brainiac 5 didn't doubt that it was something more potent than his last choices, if he felt the need to boast about it. Something Peter most likely wouldn't be able to handle.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said quietly. He hoped he'd be able to talk the other boy out of his apparent plan to draw attention to himself, but it was entirely likely that it was too late for that. In which case he'd have to hope that his offer of the deal with Grell would work for long enough to buy him some time to plan his next step. While he had no intentions of following through with the deal should the self-proclaimed death god accept, he would hopefully at least gain a day or so to think of something else.
He sighed and tapped his pen against the page for a moment, apparently considering adding something else before he gave a tiny shake of his head and set the notebook back down on the desk and cast a doubtful look at his dinner.
no subject
He drew in a shuddering breath, struggling to keep himself under control. "I can't let someone else be hurt because of me..."
It was harder to keep the memories at bay now, in this room. It might look as though nothing had changed to differ it from his very first night here, but Brainiac 5 could still remember the exact place a scalpel had buried into the wall, or how the blood had soaked his clothing and speckled the floor. And it was all too easy to imagine that it might look like that again in the future. No. He couldn't, wouldn't allow Peter to be hurt - or worse - as well. If someone else were to die because of him, if Peter were to die because of him--
He didn't know if he would be able to handle that.
Unfortunately Peter didn't seem to understand how dangerous Grell was. Clark had been far from defenceless, but he'd fallen and been taken from him. And now Grell had hinted at gaining a new weapon of some kind, and Brainiac 5 didn't doubt that it was something more potent than his last choices, if he felt the need to boast about it. Something Peter most likely wouldn't be able to handle.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said quietly. He hoped he'd be able to talk the other boy out of his apparent plan to draw attention to himself, but it was entirely likely that it was too late for that. In which case he'd have to hope that his offer of the deal with Grell would work for long enough to buy him some time to plan his next step. While he had no intentions of following through with the deal should the self-proclaimed death god accept, he would hopefully at least gain a day or so to think of something else.
He sighed and tapped his pen against the page for a moment, apparently considering adding something else before he gave a tiny shake of his head and set the notebook back down on the desk and cast a doubtful look at his dinner.