#( this is so messy i'll probs come fix typos in the morning )

[captaiinkick]

꧁   𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐊𝐈𝐍   ꧂

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝟑𝟎𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟕 - 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟒𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

‹  A DUSTY SMALL TOWN, NOW SOMEWHAT OF A NICHE TOURIST DESTINATION AS THE HOMETOWN OF CAPTAIN KICK  ›

griffith, stuck in time and quaint as ever, stood still. it greeted him when he returned, half of the bruises now gone and the other still stubbornly permeating his skin, yet fading. his right ear was still giving him trouble, and the occasional headache was no longer out of the ordinary. but some days were better than others. some days, getting out of bed was easier. he was now permanently tired, noticing himself run out of breath more easily. 

improving his certification went by in a flash. tasks now seemed more forgiving, less demanding than before, when the problem at hand was stopping large-scale threats. he embraced all the coffee-binging and all-nighter-taking with joy. experiencing that felt so unlike living through the initiative. it was a different kind of difficult, but it was worth it. 

the house is sold to a lovely young couple: first-time parents to twins and owners of three labrador pups. will liked them, and quite a lot. they were well-mannered and incredibly sociable. they thanked him for the place, and promised to take care of it. he didn’t doubt they would - this house was meant for a family, not for just for one man. he’d felt so guilty letting such cozy place go to waste inhabited by only will himself. as he walked out, the moving van parked in the driveway awaiting him, he couldn’t help but smile at the doorframe of what was once his room: “will, age 4: 1.07 cm. will, age 7: 121 cm. will, age 15: 160 cm.” 

‹  RECORDS FILLED WITH LOVE SONGS, INHERITED AND PLACED ON THE SHELF OF A NEW HOME ›

the d.c suburbs don’t take long to feel like home. well, in fact, everything instantaneously feels like home as long as zia was around. and she was. 

domestic life suited him, and he embraced this new kind of ease. with the missions over and more time on their hands, will and zia took their tame making sure each room was decorated just the way they liked it. he kept a stash of memorabilia in a shoe box under his bed, leaving it there to surprise him years into the future rather than be placed somewhere visible around the house. a high school teacher spot opened up at an almost-miraculous timing, and he accepted. 

as he learned how to cook, he thought of beth -- he didn’t blame her for the failed casserole attempts. both cooking and baking proved to be harder than he expected: he has little burns and knife cuts-turned-scars to prove it, like those of the other battles. but the apple crumble and brisket turned out almost perfect every time, and he gave himself the credit. for once. 

  ‹  A SMALL ROOM, FILLED WITH FAMILIAR FACES  ›

his face hurt from so much smiling. zia and will’s wedding went by as a small-scale event, exclusive to family and friends. beth officiated and will laughed and blushed throughout hers and other speeches. it felt surreal -- even after the vows had been long-spoken, he still glanced over at zia, continuously, wondering if he was dreaming. it felt like a kind of heaven on earth, just being by her side. 

they danced at impromptu candlelit dinners and took out an rv to drive around the country. it remained unused for a while, especially during the school year. that didn’t keep him from collecting useless maps or setting up a jar labeled “travel plans” where he’d drop spare change every time he came home. they brought in an adopted puppy too, and will could spend afternoons running around the backyard under the glaring july sun playing with it. 

the realization that this is the place he had always dreamed of being in didn’t come overnight. it just dawned on him, after waking up to the woman he loved every single day, after corny jokes and cheesy anniversary presents exchanged. it had all finally come together so perfectly that will was now only realizing how guilty he was of taking it for granted. 

but it was all idyllic. he hadn’t realized how lonely he’d felt in the past, but now, for obvious reason, there was no incentive in him to even pay mind to that realization. now, he was fortunate enough to be a part of zia’s life, and to see her, their friends and himself finally allowed to exist as people. 

   ‹ A JOYOUS WELCOME, THEN MANY MORE LIKE IT  ›

he was old, and he knew. zia was radiant as ever, but time didn’t forgive either of them. the rooms had begun feeling a bit different -- soon enough, will had come to realize the countless pillow forts put up in the vacant rooms of the house had ceased making it feel less… well, empty. 

he thought of damien and cassie, and his talk with the former about fatherhood. his words echoed in will’s head all throughout the process, from the meetings, to the assessment and orientation and the paperwork. and when the first child came to them, will couldn’t help but agree with damien. it’d all been worth it - all the effort, all the preparation. 

throughout their lives, a group of kids -- mostly teens -- come and go. some stay longer than others before they go to a permanent home. that doesn’t mean seeing them leave is any painless, but will always made sure to write them a postcard. some of them stay. he loved them all the same. he’d learned all of their birthdays, memorized the allergies and the uncomfortable topics that ought to never be brought up at dinner. he didn’t mind eating sprinkled-covered pancakes for breakfast every morning, so long as the kids liked them. every friday, he took some time to make someone’s favorite dish for dinner - zia’s went first, obviously, then the children’s, and then his. when they fostered a girl named adelaide, will cried as he hugged her upon her arrival. he and zia never missed a parent meeting, or a recital - not even a science fair.

he was aging, and so was zia, but that didn’t mean they had to miss out on parenthood. they are there for kids who need them, not as heroes, but just as understanding parents. 

   ‹  DEEPENING LAUGHTER LINES  ›

there was always a very particular sensation that coursed through him when the topic of the other team members came up. it was a mixture of pride and contentment. he couldn’t have asked for a better crew, and simply seeing or hearing of their achievements moved him. 

will always smiled fondly when hearing of eve’s time at her ranch, finding amusement in the switch of their places. he missed edie, a lot, housing so many unsaid things and finding himself clutching the inherited set of keychains a bit tighter when thinking about them. he felt happy for damien and carlos, and marveled at beth and laura’s commitment to groundbreaking changes to the initiative. and of course, it went without saying that he was glad to see tango make it back to them. his return had had will foolishly thinking they’d be allowed a lot more time together, the team reunited and thriving as they deserved. the aftermath of his passing wasn’t merciful, at least not to will. tango’s old age didn’t make his loss easier to bear, but wherever he was this time around - perhaps with cesare, benji and addy -, will hoped he was at peace. 

 ‹  THE SMELL OF STERILIZED HOSPITAL HALLS  ›

will had never really felt at ease in a hospital, but he was no stranger to them now -- they’d seen everything, from dreadfully-scratched knees to broken arms, all side-effects of rough-housing. he put on a stoic face for the children, for calmness’ sake. 

but that time was different. his hair was grey by then, and he had to miss out on all the overly-sugary foods. shame, really - the animal cookie-m&m-sprinkled ice cream was growing on him. many kids had grown up and moved out too, their high school degrees hanging on the living room wall and the cap and gown pictures evenly distributed too. 

he’d lost track of the times he’d had to say “i’ll sit this one out”. he’d also had to take time off from the high school, getting light-headed from standing for too long. 

he saw his father in himself, feeling older than he actually was. will was thankful he at least was granted some leverage, that there were no signs of the disease on the outside. it was a silent passing, nothing that couldn’t be forgotten with an insistent-enough “i’m okay” and a smile. 

he’d been doing surprisingly well til then, calling carlos and damien first thing in the morning of their anniversary, recording vhs-tapes and sending them to edie as he hoped they reached him, checking in on laura, beth and keller and thanking them for revolutionizing the bureau. the man had visited, yes, but he could rarely bring himself to stay for long: the memories still hurt, almost fresh and brand-new when he eyed the addy and benji’s memorial or envisioned glimpses of the old structure in flames, the sight of cesare’s body vivid as if it had all happened yesterday. 

“what did the doctor say?” zia asked.

“oh, nothing - the usual. i’ve still a couple years left in me.”

that last night, he checked the calendar before he headed upstairs. there was a scheduled get-together with the team a week from now - he’d remember, he always did. the kitchen lights were turned off, and he could hear zia having just gone to bed. his vision blurred two thirds of the staircase in. 

the last thing on his mind, was that he regretted not having cherished their last goodnight-kiss enough. 

   ‹  TO FEEL AT HOME  ›

it took a while, though it didn’t feel like it. maybe this was the way edie experienced it, with time going by so differently for him. will regretted not ever extending any of them a proper farewell, and that little, nagging bit of selfishness appreciated that he wasn’t there to see them pass away, for he knows he wouldn’t have been able to bear it. 

he did feel incredibly guilty toward zia for forcing her through such pain ( had he had it his way, he would’ve taken all of her grief and made it his own. she didn’t deserve such suffocating emotions, not when she’d only shown him kindness and understanding ).

but the familiar faces arrived one by one. he could finally have impromptu candlelit dances with zia again, talk to beth about the perils of cooking and to eve about those regarding farming, and have another glass of scotch with damien. hey, maybe they’d even manage to have tango finally meet his cheeseburger-loving cat friend - who knew. 

in a moment of quiet, he thinks of himself, still able to wield the shield yet only lowering it to the ground. he leaves behind the whip and pistol, and the costume. he lets out a breath, and smiles to himself, before thanking captain kick for the last couple of years.