#They were in a freaking secret underground bunker | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screamting · 4 years ago

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Winter in Kansas [80s AU] 2/2

previously: Bruce managed to sit on the bed for a full five minutes, hands held carefully in each other and breathing slowly, heart steadying, before he locked it in place.

And he left the room, footsteps quiet as he could make them on the carpet, and went back downstairs.

Clark wasn't there, but his parents were. Jon was in front of the TV drinking a cup of coffee while Martha hovered behind him, both talking about expected snow before they saw Bruce

“Hey honey, can I getcha something?” She asked.

Bruce’s mother had been dark-haired, like him, not blond and graying like Martha. It helped. Even if he'd been hoping to catch Jon.

“...I was wondering if I could ask some stuff outside?” he said softly.

Snitches get stitches. But these two knew. He was just entering the circle. Just confirming.

The two of them shared a look. Like they knew exactly what this was about.

Jon sighed and set his coffee down before getting it of his chair. “Sure, Bruce. Lemme just get my shoes on.”

Bruce nodded, waiting patiently and not making more sound than he absolutely had to for the few moments it took.

He saw the look. He knew what it meant, too.

At the very least, he wouldn't have to ease into this.

Once Jon had his dirty, mud-caked boots on and a thick jacket, he stepped outside and held the door open for Bruce to follow.

“So whaddya wanna ask about, son?”

Bruce followed, and stepped out into the field behind Jon.

He waited until they'd walked a little before speaking, hoping the crunch of his boots and the Kansas wind might hide his words from someone else.

“...how much can he hear?”

Jon turned to face Bruce and hesitated, his face hard to read.

“Pretty far last he told me. I don’t know the specifics.”

His voice was low too.

He gestured for Bruce to follow him. Lead him to one of the tractors, climbed on, and started it up, but then climbed right back down. He talked only loud enough for Bruce to hear over the constant rumble and shake of the machinery.

“More noise makes it harder for him as far as I know.”

The tractor was loud, but it didn't have the same bite as cars flying past on the freeway when trying to walk down the street. He could bear it.

“...so that's the only way to get privacy? Clutter the sound?”

“I wouldn’t think of it like ‘getting privacy’, Bruce. Clark isn’t trying to hear everything for the next mile. It’s just background noise for him. He tries not to pay attention to it. It’s only when he hears things that worry him that he pays attention, or his name.”

“... Think of it like… standin’ in the middle of a freeway. Your friend is right next to you talkin’, but not raising their voice. You can’t really make anything out unless you hear something like your name, or maybe ‘help’. Words you pay more attention to without even thinkin’ about it.”

...he listened, and nodded, but all the same--

All the same.

“...you called me a big name out east,” Bruce said. “When we met.”

“Yeah,” he shifted a little on the tractor to get more comfortable. “I know about Wayne Industries. Know what happened to your folks. Was all over the news.”

...he nodded, then. Okay. Jon had some context, then--

“I asked a girl out last month and three gossip rags picked it up,” he said. “...my friends tell me private stuff.”

And Clark could hear through walls.

Jon sighed, “Are you worried he’s gonna go around telling everyone everything?” He asked, sounding like he had this conversation before. “Before you knew about it, did he go around doing that?”

“He keeps everything he hears to himself.”

“That doesn't mean they trusted him with it,” he said. Looking down.

He wasn't… angry. And it didn't come out angry.

But he couldn't stop sounding tired.

Everyone, always listening in. Always hearing about him without him being the one to say it.

Even in Kansas. Jon knew. No chance to say things for himself.

Jon sighed, “No. You’re right.”

“... But it ain’t fair to blame Clark. He never asked for any of this. When it first started he used to lock himself in closets or hold his head underwater for… way longer than anyone was comfortable with. Don’t think he slept for at least a week.”

“I'm not trying to blame him,” Bruce said, and… he wasn't lying.

It almost surprised him. He wasn't trying to spare this man’s feelings.

“...I'm trying to find a work-around.”

“You know what the best work-around I’ve come up with?” Jon said, looking down at Bruce.

“Askin’ him when not to listen.”

Bruce looked up at him, expression confused.

Did Jon announce when he had private conversations?

Jon just shrugged down at him.

“Sometimes you just gotta take someone’s word.”

Okay. He would.

“That include taking his word he can't control it?”

Jon nodded, “I know you weren’t around to see it, but my boy went through hell just trying to deal with it. He’s a lot better, and I imagine he’ll keep getting better, but right now… that’s all you can really do. Take his word.”

The sharp parts of Bruce’s reply seemed to sail right over Jon’s head. Maybe the tractor’s noise hid the edges in his words. He didn't know.

If there wasn't any way to do it, though, then Bruce had… no other questions to be answered like this.

Or maybe Jon just didn’t have the energy in him to respond to it. He looked tired, like this song and dance had happened one too many times.

“That all?”

...he nodded. But still, he asked, “could I make a phone call?”

“Sure,” Jon said, and reached to turn off the tractor. But first--

“Bruce?”

Bruce looked up at him.

“... You could do my boy a whole lotta harm with the power you have. And while I can’t force you to do anything, I will ask that you keep this to yourself.”

And then he turned off the tractor.

“Mr. Kent,” he said, eyes and voice too steady for a sixteen year old. “I knew he was weird two months ago. I take care of my friends.”

He climbed off the tractor with him.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jon said, and climbed off after him.

He lead him back inside and to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall.

Bruce thanked him quietly, and took the phone off the rack to dial.

He didn't have a tractor or anything else but the TV to hide his conversation, but still, he spoke softly into the receiver, enough that the Kents on the other side of the room wouldn't get more than a few snatches of conversation.

“...have the address already? ...okay. Thanks. Bye, Alfred.”

Hung up again.

Shuffled towards the couch.

“...I realized I forgot something, so Alfred’s going to send it in a few days,” he said, assuming that was fine but informing them out of politeness all the same.

“Okay.” Martha said, and did pass a look to Jon, who just gave her a nod.

They had a talk.

It was fine.

… There was still no sign of Clark.

Clark, he figured, was probably still in his room. He hadn't heard or seen anything to suggest otherwise.

So there was only one thing to do, in the handful of hours left before dinner.

He went to the guest room and dug through his bag, pulling out a clasped wooden box, folded with hinges, and headed to Clark’s bedroom door. And knocked.

It took a moment, but Clark did open his bedroom door.

The light was off and his eyes were a little puffy, like he’d been crying but stopped a short while ago.

He hesitated, but did step aside a little to let Bruce in.

“Hey.”

Bruce stepped in.

“So,” he said, skipping through pleasantries. “You are: stronger, faster, and have better hearing than me. And you can fly and reportedly burn people with your eyes.”

He sat on the floor without ceremony, and unhooked the box to let the game pieces all fall out, and reveal the pattern underneath.

“So, the next question is: do you know how to play chess?”

Clark flicked on the light out of habit whenever someone came inside.

“... Kinda?” He said, watching Bruce plop down on the rug. Like the question confused him.

Bruce nodded, starting to set up the chess board. “Kinda? You know how each piece moves?”

“Yeah.” He said, and sat down across from him.

“Cool. You fine if I take black?”

“Go ahead.” Clark shook his head.

Bruce took black and made the first move.

And they played chess.

Clark knew enough about chess to play, but he was by no means any sort of champion.

Eventually though, he did ask; “Are you mad at me?”

“Did you do anything I should be mad about?” Bruce asked, mostly focused on going easy on Clark and playing at his level.

He wondered if he could get this game to a draw.

“Be a freak.” He said bluntly.

“...” Bruce moved one of his pawns.

He has secrets bubbled up inside of him that he doesn't need to pour out. They aren't his to give. If he can find distaste in Clark overhearing secrets accidentally, he can't console himself in spilling them full-knowing.

So instead, he says, “I've met worse people.”

Clark just sighed, like what Bruce said didn’t mean anything.

But he didn’t say anything and continued to half-heartedly play chess. After each move he would pull his arms into himself, hugging them, like out of the two he was the most vulnerable even if it was anything but.

...Bruce watched. Saw Clark tugging his arms in on himself. Saw him curled between moves.

“...what are you so scared of?” he asked. Finally. When it was clear things weren't getting better.

“Everyone,” he said.

“... After the- the shooting, and whenever I’d do something that no real person should be able to do, Ma and Pa would sit me down and remind me that I needed to keep it to myself. That I had to be a ‘normal human teenager’, even if it was just an act, because what if someone told the wrong person. What if they came swooping down in helicopters to drag me out of the house and go seal me in some secret underground bunker somewhere to stab me with needles.”

“And I try. I try but it’s hard. I run too fast and hear too much. It’s like I’m constantly holding my breath and I can never breathe because if I did someone will hear and drag me away.”

….

Bruce nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “...that's…”

God.

He hadn't expected to hear that.

Hear that fear out of Clark’s mouth. The same raw level of fried nerves that knotted in his shoulders and let him wanting to scream, but unable to.

“...I…” God. Fuck. He's spent one day in Smallville, away from Tommy and the pap, and he's falling apart like Gotham was a mould desperately trying to help him hold his shape. “I'm scared of everyone, too.”

Clark was trying not to cry again. His eyes were glazed over. He wiped at them before anything could come out and looked over at Bruce.

“Why?” He asked, confused.

He didn’t know of all the things his friend was scared of.

To be fair to Clark, it was a very long list.

“Everyone in Gotham knows me,” he said, face the same carefully controlled expression he usually had when he was trying to explain something on their homework, or when speaking to the teachers and adults. “...and they know what I'm worth. I wasn't kidding about kidnappings. They've happened before.”

“...I bribed someone when I was ten. To stay with Alfred,” he continued. “...they wanted to take me away. There's a lot of people who are counting down until I'm eighteen and have access to the money. A lot of people want it.”

“...I just want my family back. And to not feel like every street I walk down’s going to have a mugger with a gun on it.”

...he looked up, and met Clark’s wet eyes with his own, darker, exhausted ones.

“...it sounds nice. To have a friend I don't have to worry about being shot.”

Clark finally managed a little bit of a smile.

Friend.

“... Sorry. I didn’t realize having so much money would be such a problem. But it makes a lot of sense. To me that whole… life… just, they show it on TV like it’s anything but a problem. Don’t have to worry about the crop doing well or the cows dyin’ to depend on whether you’re gonna have to cut corners and stuff.”

“I try ‘n do what I can with what I have to help out. Heavy lifting. Lookin’ for engine problems where Pa can’t see. That kinda stuff. I tried to convince them to just let me fly to Gotham too, to cut on bus faire, but they said no.”

He made his move and swallowed.

“I wanna help people, Bruce. That’s why I went to that house and ended up…”

Clark didn’t finish his sentence.

“But whenever I do I just get scolded. And I’m scared that someone will find out it’s me, and then that’d be the end of it.”

Bruce listens.

He's still watching Clark’s eyes, and his mouth, and he can't imagine this boy doing what they say he's done.

“Kent,” he says, with steel in his tone. “I would've given anything for someone to get in the way and burn the man who killed my family’s arms off.”

Clark smiled a little.

Validation.

…

“I don't regret it. At all. If it happened again I'd do the same thing. Even though I'm scared of being taken away. It'd be worth it, I think.”

Bruce picked up one of the chess pieces he'd captured and threw it at Clark’s head.

“Don't be stupid.”

It connected but Clark just let it.

“Huh?”

Bruce gave him a glare, though it wasn't a particularly intense one.

“You can't do it one time and get taken away so the next guy has a clear shot,” he said. “So next time, don't get caught.”

Geez.

He blinked, “So like… do it and run? They'll still see me though and tell the cops.”

“No, like don't do it so they know you're an alien,” Bruce said, like it was obvious. “As much as they deserve their arms burned off, it might get suspicious.”

Clark gave him a look. “As soon as they shoot me and I don't die they'll know something is messed up.”

“Then wear a mask,” he said, leaning forwards, an odd light in his eyes. “Be so alien they can't imagine you're who you really are.

Clark looked a mix of shocked and excited. “Like… a comic book hero?”

Bruce wasn't sure what the expression on his own face was. “Sure?”

… He made his move and didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“I used to pretend I was one when I was little. I think that’s why I learned to fly before, y’know, all the other stuff.”

What kid didn’t want to fly?

...Bruce looked down at the board and quietly moved his piece, too.

“...I lied to you before. About where I'm going when I'm eighteen.”

Clark looked up at him but definitely wasn’t mad.

“... You know where you wanna go?”

“...I wanna learn how to hunt people down,” he admitted, head low.

“... Like… a detective?”

That didn't seem bad or even a little out of character for Bruce.

…

“Maybe,” he said. He didn't really have a word for what he wanted.

But Clark used to pretend he was a comic book hero…?

Bruce dropped his gaze again.

“...I found a cave, when I was a kid,” he said. “I fell inside while walking. I used to pretend I lived inside it. A monster. Who would come out and hurt the people who deserved it.”

…

“It's stupid, now.”

He was stupid.

But he was still going to go.

Going to find someone dangerous and powerful, and say teach me how.

“That's not stupid.” Clark said, taking his turn.

“... Well, maybe the eating part. But wanting to track people down and make them pay isn't stupid. It's what we're doing now kinda. Looking into the Court of Owls.”

“...yeah,” Bruce said. Nodding. “...do you think we’ll find them?”

“... I’m not sure, honestly.” Clark admitted. “I feel like we’re finding something deeper but I dunno if it’s the Court of Owls.”

“Just gotta keep diggin’ to find out.”

...Bruce nodded.

He took a breath.

“....you're in check, by the way.”

“Oh.”

He made his move.

…

“You’re going easy on me.” He smirked.

“Yep,” Bruce said, moving a piece on the opposite side of the bored and giving Clark time to escape. “Don't feel bad. I've been playing Tommy for years. Only recently started to give him a run for his money.”

Clark huffed, “I don’t feel bad. I know you’re way out of my league.”

It took him a few seconds, but he made his move.

...he moved another piece.

“...does that bother you?”

‘Maybe a little,’ Clark thought.

But Bruce didn’t even like guys. He knew that after seeing what happened with Tommy.

“Nah,” he said instead with a smile. “I’m just glad you put up with the redneck from Kansas.”

Bruce huffed.

“What's that got to do with chess? You guys not play board games out here?”

Clark gave him a look.

“Do Kenny ‘n Pete look like they’d play chess?”

“Kenny ‘n Pete look like they play tic tac toe,” he said.

Clark let out a laugh that could have melted a room.

“Yeah, basically.”

…

“God. I’m sorry about them.”

Bruce gave him a confused look.

“...that they have big mouths?” He said. Because, yeah. He was sorry for that, too.

Or was it a flawed intimidation tactic? Hazing?

Not speaking to him for half the day?

“Yeah. Big mouths and I think they were just trying to throw you off. Maybe they were kinda mad I made friends back in Gotham and then brought them with me? They’ve been my friends for a long time. Probably know more about me than my parents in some cases.”

“They shouldn't have thrown you under the bus like that,” Bruce said, and that was all he could say about them without saying anything cruel.

He moved the chess piece.

“Yeah I’m-- I’m pretty pissed at them right now.” He sighed, watching the board.

“Really thought you’d hate me.”

“...” yet again, he found himself asking, “why?”

...Clark kept saying that. ‘I thought you'd hate me.’ Why was he so certain? Why…

… Clark shrugged.

“I dunno. I’m not a super interesting person or anything and then you throw the whole ‘alien’ thing into the mix. It’s just-- it seems easier to just… hate? I dunno.”

He made his move.

“I’m dumb.”

….yeah. Bruce nodded. “Yeah. You are, huh.”

He moved in kind.

“...I take care of my friends.”

Clark smiled.

“Me too.”

Made his move.

“So just let me know if you need to move something really heavy.” He joked.

Kinda.

Bruce nodded.

“I'll get you renovating the manor grounds in no time.”

“Check, by the way.”

He scoffed and watched it happen.

“That a job offer, Mr. Wayne?”

“...I can pay ya under the table, but it might damage my reputation,” he said.

He looked confused, “Why would that damage your reputation?”

Bruce looked up. “...it's black market activity,” he said. “Which is fine on a small scale, but if I was paying someone I’d have to report it.”

“Oh, I see what you mean.” He snorted.

…he managed a smile about it. “Yeah. I don't exist on a small scale.”

Clark didn’t say much to that, and made his move.

… Eventually their game would end and it would be time for dinner.

Bruce would go downstairs, and eat with the Kent family for dinner. And--

...and try to not feel strange. Or an outsider. But… it wasn't impossible, in a strange way.

...he knew Clark’s secret, too, now. And it made it easier to slide into a place like this.

Insular.

Maybe things were easier for now. They did certainly seem easier for Clark’s parents, and as they started to sit down around the dinner table Jon would ask; “Everythin’ good now, gentlemen?”

And Clark would look over at Bruce and then smile a little and nod.

Bruce nodded, “yessir,” and…

It was nice. Even with knowing Clark might hear anything.

Somehow, he still felt a little more free.

They had a nice dinner. Jon asked Bruce things occasionally, mostly about how Gotham was, how he liked it. He didn’t ask about parents or business. Just typical kid stuff like school and how it was going. They avoided talk of Clark’s incident completely.

Things around the Kent house were extremely ‘normal�� considering. It was like… bizarre interlaced with normal, and now that Bruce was in on it they didn’t need to worry.

After dinner Jon asked Clark to come help him get one of the tractors out from a mud hole it was stuck in, and if Bruce watched he would see Clark lift the front up and simply back the whole thing up.

...and Bruce would watch. From the porch, regular, hot tea in a mug. And he would watch Clark lift the tractor and say nothing.

His friend was an alien. And he wasn't sure, exactly, why he was taking it so well.

...when they came back in, they watched TV and got ready for the night. And… Bruce wondered, faintly, if Clark would hear if he had a nightmare tonight.

But he didn't.

Not tonight.

Clark could, but… Bruce had nightmares semi-frequently. It wasn’t polite to encroach on that or bring it up, so he didn’t.

Trust that he’ll give you privacy.

That morning the sun would rise and the day on the farm started even earlier. Jon was up and out of the house before the sun was up and when it did finally rise breakfast would start to be made.

Bacon and eggs with toast.

…

When Bruce came down Clark wouldn’t be there.

Bruce found he hadn't been given a time to wake up, and so he woke on his own--fatigued still, but only in the way of waking up in new places--with the clock saying an hour earlier than when he usually woke at school. It was still a dark, and he lay in bed, enjoying the ability to not have to get up immediately. He started his way downstairs when he began to smell food and an unusual amount of sun (in other words: any amount of sun) hit his windows.

“Good morning, Ms. Kent,” he began with, obviously. “...Clark sleep in?”

“No I think he’s up already.” Martha said. “He likes to sit on the roof when the sun comes up. He’ll come down soon now that you’re up.”

“How d’you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled dry,” he said, and… didn't have to question how Clark would know he was up.

“Okay.”

Martha nodded and cracked open the eggs for his breakfast. “You sleep okay?”

There was a small thud on the front steps before the door opened and Clark came inside wearing little more than pajama pants. It would be the first time Bruce had seen him in less than two layers.

It became obvious why.

He was… kind of jacked.

He didn’t look cold either despite the temperatures outside.

...what the fuck.

But Bruce kept his mouth shut. His heart sped a little, but slowed again a moment or two later.

“...morning.”

“Mornin’.” Clark mumbled, scratching his stomach and instantly rooting in the fridge.

Two cups.

“Y’want OJ or milk?”

For eggs?

“Orange juice,” Bruce says, watching him.

Clark shook up the OJ and poured Bruce a glass before handing it over to him, but he went for milk.

“Mind puttin’ some bread in for toast? ‘N get the butter out, please.” Martha said, and Clark did as he was asked without complaint.

Martha plated Bruce’s eggs and handed them over, then pulled the towel off the plate in the middle piled with bacon. “Help yerself.”

“Thanks,” he said, startled out of his observations for a moment, and--

He was watching two things, a little lost in them both, but at least they were all in this one place. Just--on one hand, caught in the mundanity, in a mother asking her son to pull out the toast and bread, and on the other hand, a small thing in the back of his mind which informed him that Clark’s stomach muscles twisted every time he moved his arm.

He waited until he was joined at the table to even think about eating.

Clark made some toast and put it on a plate for them to grab from and by the time he sat down too his eggs were finished.

Sunny side up.

He thanked his mom as he sat down and started to dig in.

“Just cover the bacon back up when you’re done, I’m gonna run out and help your daddy.” Martha said, taking a sip from her coffee before leaving the two eating on their own.

Bruce started to eat as Clark joined him, thanking Ms. Kent again, and…

…

“You always sleep without a top here?” he asked, losing his shit completely with a straight face.

Clark was busy shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth. “Uh-” He chewed and swallowed.

“Yeah. I like the sun on my skin when I get up.”

Oh. Okay. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, so he just--nodded and got his own piece or two of bacon.

And kept eating.

“...plans for today?”

Clark shrugged a little and put some ketchup on his eggs before breaking them up. “Dunno. Usually I hang out with Kenny ‘n Pete on my days off, but…” he glanced up at Bruce.

“Not feelin’ that anytime soon.”

…

“Thought about just… flyin’ around for awhile. Haven’t been able to do that in Gotham. But that’d leave you here unless you’re fine with coming.”

Bruce was ready to tell him he was fine with just reading a book for a while, but--

“...with coming along for flying?”

“Yeah. I’d carry you. Like, it’s fine if you’re scared though. It’s pretty weird. But figured it was impolite not to offer.” Clark said, pushing runny egg mess on his bread and eating it.

Bruce stared at him like he was crazy.

“Take me flying,” he said.

… Clark grinned with a mouthful of toast and a bit of ketchup on his lips. “O-kay.”

He was stupid and (buff, and Bruce wanted to lean over with a napkin and shove it on Clark’s lips to get rid of that dumb ketchup) absolutely intentionally being dense, because who didn’t want to fly, even if you had to be carried?

But instead, he said, “Shut up and eat faster,” and started shoveling his breakfast down in kind.

Clark grinned and did just that, shoveling his food down and eating toast and bacon before standing up and chugging his milk.

Shirtless.

He put the plate in the sink and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“Dress warm, it gets cold.”

Bruce felt something in his stomach flip, and he nodded, running back upstairs to tug on his winter boots and add on another layer and his heavy coat. Clark’s borrowed winter hat. His good gloves.

And he was ready.

Clark got dressed too and then met Bruce back downstairs a moment later. He opened the door out to the porch, stepped off the front step and… float there, spinning around as if in water to face Bruce with his hands in his pockets.

“Piggyback or in my arms?”

“Arms,” Bruce said, not wanting a piggyback--he was sixteen, not a kid, after all. It didn’t matter if Clark could carry him fine.

“Okay.”

Clark hovered close again and reached out, hand going around Bruce’s waist and pulling him close. He pressed himself against Bruce and locked his hands around the small of his back. Waited for Bruce to position his hands how he wanted.

… He might have been enjoying this a little too much.

“Ready?”

...somehow, Bruce didn’t realize he was going to be held like this in Clark’s arms. He knew they’d go around him, but--face to face, he guessed he hadn’t expected, and found his face close enough to smell Clark’s neck as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders securely.

Even through his heavy layers, he could feel Clark’s body, unusually warm against him.

Despite having just drunk orange juice, his mouth was dry. He told himself it was nerves.

“Ready.”

Clark smiled at him and then looked up.

And they started to rise, slow at first. Clark kept his grip firm and make sure Bruce didn’t slip, and soon they were over the roof of the the farmhouse. He started to fly away from it, legs angling as if to ‘push’ away from the farm.

Over the empty fields.

Once they were up in the air, Bruce… forgot.

He forgot about a lot of things. About how he was sort of uncomfortable being this close to anyone, or how he was fully clothed and Clark was half undressed in his PJs, or what was going on back home.

There was nothing under his feet. It was just-- a moment. A moment of disorientation, and realizing the air was cold and sharp with wind, and how empty the air was around him. That flying was just falling interrupted.

And Clark’s firm chest against his own was the only thing the world that felt stable at that moment.

He wanted to see the fields. The farmhouse. The long shadows, stretching over the yellow, frost-bitten fields.

But before that, before getting lost in wonder, staring-- he tightened his grip on Clark, and held himself close against him.

It was nice to be held so tightly by someone who wasn’t his mom or dad. He couldn’t even recall a time that had ever happened before. He kept people at an arm’s length for his own safety, and even when he did let them in there was still that fear of rejection. But last night Bruce had insisted and insisted that he wasn’t mad, that they were still friends, that it didn’t change anything.

When he got to the point he wanted and started to fly backwards gently, to really get in the whole view of the farm, he looked back down at Bruce with that award-winning smile.

“Whaddya think?”

“It’s big,” Bruce called back over the wind.

But he couldn’t… think of anything else to say about it. And maybe the new-day sun in his eyes said enough. The way it hit his ghost-pale face in the way it never could reach in Gotham.

There weren’t skyscrapers here. The long shadows ran only along the ground, far, far below them, cast by regular-sized objects, not buildings made by giants.

And the sky was in every direction he looked.

Big.

Blue.

Beauti--

Maybe looking back on this day when he was older would be when he said he started to love Bruce Wayne, but right now he still didn't quite realize it. Even as he looked down at the other boy rather than the scenery, watching how the light illuminated his pale skin and tired, sharp eyes. There was a fierceness to Bruce he had never seen from anyone else. Fierce and ironclad in everything he wanted to be.

“Yeah, it is.” Is all he said though, and would slowly continue to hover backwards, getting further away, then go a little left towards the trees that marked their property.

You could see the roads. The buildings in the distance. Cars driving along. Birds flew beside them a safe distance away.

And somehow Clark shined just like the sun, curls blowing in the wind and arms secure around Bruce's waist.

Bruce didn’t say much while they were up there, focusing on breathing in the cold wind and staring down at all the world below in a way he’d never really been able to before.

Not like this. Alone and secure, without airplane walls around him.

(Even if he wasn’t alone at all.)

...but Clark would still be able to hear his heart beat, strong and excited with the world below, pressed against his bare chest with just the coat between them.

...but Gothamite he might’ve been, Bruce still could only stand the cold against his face for so long before his cheeks started turning pink and windburnt.

Clark might not have been able to feel the cold like Bruce, but he could see it.

“Gonna start going down.” He warned, and did just that. A slow descent left and down…

… and they were back on the porch, feet touching down.

A little wobbly, Bruce pulled away once his feet touched the floor-- not because of anything bad, but because as soon as the wind wasn’t rushing him anymore, he realized he desperately had to wipe his nose, or it would drip out everywhere.

“Tissue,” he mumbled.

Clark was… a little hesitant to let go, but as soon as Bruce pulled away he let him go.

“... Oh! Yeah, c'mon.” Clark said, arm leading Bruce back inside.

There was a tissue box right by the door.

Bruce hid his nose in his face until he was able to get to the tissue box and snatch one out, blowing his nose.

“Danks,” he said.

“No problem. I forget that's a thing that happens.”

Clark's skin hadn't changed even a little.

Chalk that up to another power; resistance to cold.

Bruce noticed Clark’s immunity, but didn’t say anything about it really. He just focused on blowing his nose, and once he was done, rubbing his cheeks to warm them up again.

“...you never get sick or stuff, either?”

“Uh,” Clark began as he walked to the kitchen to make something warm for Bruce.

“Not since I was little. Mom says when I was a baby I struggled a lot. Like I couldn't breathe. But I don't really get cold anymore. I can't get burnt. Can stick my hand right in a fire and nothing. Can grab hot pans.”

“It's like--” he shrugged. “Invulnerability?”

...Bruce had honestly just been wondering if Clark was affected by bacteria at all, but… that was a lot more than he’d asked for.

“...not anything?”

It was nice to just… talk about it with someone. Sure his friends knew, but… they always asked him weird questions about it. Like if he looked at people naked.

“Well getting shot hurt, but other than something like that? Nope.” Clark put on some water for tea.

...Bruce didn’t question it, even if he did watch Clark a little longer, lingering.

...he realized now that he looked at Clark, that… he didn’t have any marks on his skin.

Not a mole. Not a freckle. Not a paper-thin scar.

And he’d been shot.

“...I can’t tell at all,” he said, maybe a little breathless, watching Clark’s back as he filled the water.

“Revolver hit me here--” he said, turning and pointing at his face. “Shotgun hit me here--” he pointed at his arm and chest.

“Gave me a black eye and broken nose and a lot of cuts. But they healed pretty fast. No scars or anything.” Clark shrugged. “Worst anyone's been able to do too me. I've fallen out of trees and moving cars and jumped out of two story windows and mostly been fine.”

He gave a sheepish smile.

Bruce found his arm going up to his neck, fist tight, and tried not to think about the hole that he’d seen punch through his mother.

He had scars on his arms right now. He had cuts healing right now. And Clark had jumped out of buildings and been shot and leapt out of moving cars--

“Why did you jump out of a moving car and a two story window??”

Clark laughed, “Well the car thing was I saw a dog and I was like… five. Really gave my folks gray hair for that one. And I jumped out of my bedroom window when they grounded me once and didn't quite have flying down yet. But I landed okay!” He gave Bruce a dumb grin and thumbs up.

Bruce buried his face in his hands.

Clark just laughed again and pulled the kettle off the stove to pour them both some tea.

“Genius alien from beyond the stars.” He joked.

“Really though I’m just…” he shrugged. “Just a kid on a farm who can’t get a date or pass his driving test, or… y’know.”

He didn’t know. But he nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” he said. And he wanted to say he was just normal, too.

But he could get a date, and wasn’t a farm kid, and could drive, just not legally.

…

“...wanna be lazy normal and just watch some TV?”

“Hell yeah.” Clark grinned and handed him his tea.

...the first day or two had been rough, but it grew easier with each passing day.

The Kents didn’t ask him about his family. They just… brought him to the table. Clark did alien things, and human things, and mostly reading-and-TV things.

They had a Christmas tree, and bit by bit presents appeared under it as the Christian Holiday grew closer. And, to Bruce’s relief, one such present arrived in the mail with a little bit of time to spare.

He’d been invited to Christmas parties before, but he’d never really celebrated with his family that he could remember--what he did remember was mixed up with Chanukah somewhat, with how young he’d been at the time. And though he was fairly sure the Kanes celebrated both, they only really invited him for things like Pesach and Sukkot.

So it was… the first time he’d really seen a family Christmas in person, rather than through every movie and pop culture magazine in the world.

...it was much quieter than he’d been led to believe, when the day finally did come, and he wondered, briefly, how the Kents had managed to tell Clark about a magical flying man in the sky when he was a child, or if they’d let him know Santa Claus was a fictional character to avoid accidental alien imprinting.

The day Christmas arrived there was a bit more of a set time to get up, but things still moved the same as they had been.

The sun rose and Jon tended to the cows, but then would be inside for the remainder of the day unlike his usual sparse appearances throughout. They made pancakes for breakfast and waited until everyone was sat around the table together to eat.

After breakfast was time for presents, a few under the tree for Clark, some for his parents, and…

Martha handed a little box to Bruce too.

...it was nice. It was still approximately like a regular day, which was a little strange, but it was nice. He ate the breakfast with his usual appreciation and followed to the livingroom around the tree once it was done, watching.

Bruce took the little box with a quiet ‘thank you,’ and smiled. Most of the gifts around the tree were for Clark, but that was fine.

...After a bit of confusion, Bruce had brought his presents down a day or two before. One for Jon. One for Martha.

Two for Clark--one of them being the little package that had arrived in the mail a few days earlier.

The first three presents Bruce had picked out while in Gotham, asked Alfred to purchase and wrap, and had brought them on the train himself on the way to Smallville.

He hoped they were fine.

...for Ms Kent, before knowing her name, he’d gotten a blue sapphire necklace with matching earrings. Not especially expensive, so it wouldn’t feel condescending or she couldn’t find things to wear them with. Not so cheap it looked bad coming from him.

For Jon, it’d been a little easier.

High quality black leather gloves with a matching sidebag.

… and for Clark, he’d… for the first present, he’d simply gotten him an autobiography of one of the muckrakers who’d lived through the mob wars of the 20s and 30s.

...it was the second present, in a much smaller box, that had Bruce anxious.

Jon and Martha kept insisting that he didn’t have to get them anything of course. They were very impressed by the gifts though, Jon giving a rather genuine smile and Martha leaning over to give him a hug in thanks.

Clark really liked the book too, and it actually took him a moment to put it down and pick up the second present that Bruce had given him.

“Another one?” He asked, a little surprised while pulling off the wrapping.

Bruce nodded and… looked down a little.

...inside the box, there were what looked to be hearing aids. Pale, thin, and mechanical.

“...they’re sound blockers,” he said softly. “...you said Gotham was too loud for you. And what you said about three miles, I figured…”

…

“You don’t have to use them.”

Clark clearly didn’t know what they were before Bruce said anything, but then the realization hit him.

“... Oh. Wow, Bruce.” He said, pulling them out. “That’s… really cool.”

“How do you put them on?” He asked, already trying.

Oh.

Bruce brightened a little, and shuffled closer, sliding until their knees knocked together.

“Here,” he said, taking the first one from Clark’s hand and brushing away his hair to get a good view of his ear.

He slid it in carefully, looping the hook that made it appear so much like a hearing aid over Clark’s ear.

“No one should question it, since it looks like a regular thing.”

Clark leaned in closer to help him and… maybe kinda stayed there a little longer just so he could be closer to Bruce while he helped put them in.

“This is really cool.” He said again, voice quiet.

“Finally gonna be able to sleep.” He laughed, a little joking and a little not.

Bruce smiled a little, glad Clark liked them so much. “They working?”

He went quiet and focused, a smile spreading over his face. “I can’t hear the cows.”

Martha looked like she might start crying.

Bruce grinned wide, something warm spreading through his chest.

“You like them?”

“Yeah. I really do.” Clark grinned.

…

He leaned over and pulled Bruce into a hug.

For a moment, Bruce was startled, freezing up in the sudden hold.

...then, he leaned into it, closing his eyes, and finding himself melting into the hold.

… Clark found he really didn’t want it to end, but… his parents were right there. So it had to. But while it lasted he held Bruce tight and whispered out another ‘thank you’ before pulling away.

“Wish you woulda had those when you were younger.” Martha smiled and Clark laughed.

“Yeah, really.”

Bruce smiled and edged away from Clark again, opening his own present quietly while the others talked.

...he felt a little better, now, knowing the gift was well received. That it wasn’t a bad idea.

...soon enough, though, January would come, and the hearing aids would be really put to the test as their return to Gotham grew closer.

Bruce’s gift was… less impressive, but…

“I know it ain’t your style, but…” Clark grinned.

It was a baseball cap.

A baseball cap with ‘SMALLVILLE’ embroidered across it.

“Least it’s somethin’ to remember us by.” Jon chuckled.

Bruce sighed deeply, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and flipped the hat up to destroy his hair style by putting it on.

“You know what, Kent,” he said. “At least it’s not John Deere.”

Clark grinned and roped his arm around Bruce to give him a side-hug.

…

January would come eventually though, that was for sure. Clark would hug and kiss his parents goodbye and they would tell Bruce they loved having him, to come back any time. He was always welcome in their house.

Then it was a bus ride back to Gotham and Clark definitely packed his new hearing aids.

...he wasn’t sure why he was the one struggling to not get emotional once the Kents drove away, and he found himself in the bus seat, staring at the seat in front of him.

...but he was. For the first few minutes as the bus pulled out of the station, Bruce just… curled up in his seat and worked to keep his breathing steady.

And they headed back to Gotham.

…

He wouldn’t wear his ‘Smallville’ cap with him as they reached their destination late the next day, though. He’d return to the borrowed snow cap, and hide the ‘smallville’ one deep in his bag so that it couldn’t be seen.

...and as they returned to the dorms, he had a weight of dread in his chest that he wasn’t unused to, but…

It hadn’t been there the last two weeks.

And knowing Clark could hear his heartbeat just made him more anxious, now, about keeping secrets.

#aka the gay awakening #superbat #80s gay superbat #clark kent #bruce wayne

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capricornsims · 4 years ago

Text

Strangetown Mystery 13: Trapped

Days turned into weeks and the imprisonment of the Smith family became known throughout Strangetown, much to their dismay. Lola and Chloe rallied alongside other townies to free Pollination Technician 9, waving picket signs about uniting the world. “ He did nothing wrong, he’s just raising his family!” Lola shouted out, and the crowd agreed, remembering PT9 as a friendly family man, and not the evil invader General Buzz Grunt was making him out to be. Despite the protests outside of the bunker, the Smith Family would continue to be entrapped in the concrete underground, unable to hear the rallying cries of their family members. Restlessness and fear hung over everyone as their fate was left to the unknown as the syndrome got worse. Johnny, especially, couldn’t stand the extended stay in the bunker, knowing the untrustworthy intentions of Buzz Grunt...but he couldn’t do anything if he was stuck under Tank’s surveillance.

To add to Johnny’s misery, his other physical alien traits began to appear, clouding his emerald green eyes over with an inky black shade. He was appalled by his appearance, unable to comprehend why his eyes decided to change at a moment like this! He knew his skin was going to get greener as he grew older, but his eyes were the only thing that made him feel human enough to live amongst his friends. Now he was considered more of a freak compared to before, vulnerable to the same prejudice his father and sisters faced. His emotions ran rampant through his brain, staring off into grimy mirrors, picturing his horrible future.

Johnny: Why does this have to happen to me now, why couldn’t I have changed after this. What if I get experimented on by mad scientists? Bullied more by Tank? What if Ripp and Ophelia run away because I’m such a freak... A freak of nature…

His insecurities manifested as the day wore on, it didn’t help that Tank commented on his changed appearance or that his family looked at him differently.

He split apart from his parents, escaping to the furthest point of the compound to hide away from the world. Unfortunately, his effort to conceal his condition was useless as footprints approached him

PT9: Son, your mother told me what happened,

Johnny: …

PT9: Why don’t you want to talk to your old man about it?

Johnny: I don’t want to talk right now!

PT9: I understand that you teenagers are going through a lot of emotions, but I’m here for you. I watched you grow up on Earth, and I know how hard it’s been for you, Johnny.

Johnny: I don’t think you understand, dad. You grew up with other aliens...but here I had to grow up with other humans and they just suck!

PT9: I know, son, but compared to them, you are stronger. Your eyes may have changed to look like mine, but you are the same young man everyone loves. Once we get out of here, you’ll be able to show the world how great you are.

Johnny: IF we get out of here! We’re stuck here because *you* think Buzz Grunt is trying to protect us! Can’t you read minds !? We are trapped here and we can’t get out!

PT9: I don’t want to argue about this, Johnny. I love you, and I want to keep all of you safe.

Johnny: We are not safe here, dad, we are prisoners! Look, if you don’t make an effort to find a way out sooner I will!

PT9: I wish you luck on your endeavor, I will keep doing my part if you don’t mind.

Johnny stormed away from the conversation, an uneasy tension forming between him and his father. His father’s tone about keeping them safe did not sit right with Johnny, his fatherly demeanor stiffened and his face grew cold when he said they were trapped. It was like his father knew what the true evil was and kept it a secret for their sake and it had to be something threatening if he entrusted his life to his enemy. Either way, he did not want to be a part of his father’s secrets and consulted the general store clerk for help.

Ripp: Hey Johnny, I see you escaped my dumb brother. Can I get you anything like a soda or a magazine?

Johnny: Freedom. I’m going to attempt an escape and I need help.

Ripp: It’s going to be hard to stock in my store but I think I can get that for you, Johnny.

Johnny: What really!?

Ripp: Yeah, we just need to make a plan first and figure out how to get past those gates without being chased by Tank.

Johnny: And once I get past Tank I will make a run straight for the nearest town, Deadtree. Ophelia said she was staying at her family’s meeting house so maybe I can hide in there until things blow over.

Johnny: This place is dangerous, I have to get away before I become some alien experiment.

Ripp: It sounds like a plan, dude, I’ll make sure you make it to Ophelia in one piece. I promise...It’s the least I can do since my father locked your family in here.

Johnny: I owe you my life, Ripp. Thanks for helping me.

The Sublevel

The sublevel lay beneath the laboratory of the bunker, shrouded in a dim red light upon entering its dark corridors. The only sound that emitted from this strange area was the whirring of the ventilators and clunking mechanical noises beyond the threshold of the massive vault doors. Every sound that was made echoed eerily off the walls and the hall seemed to grow narrower as it neared the entrance. No one knew what the doors protected, or what it concealed beyond vague notions of science experiments and surgical equipment. Whoever built this bunker had intentions to keep the contents of the vault in secrecy so why was General Buzz Grunt so eager to show PT9 what lay beyond it?

Buzz: Pollination Technician 9, you have helped immensely around the lab with the scientists, but I cannot trust them with this experiment. Therefore, I trust that you will do this experiment perfectly without error, understand?

PT9: I understand, I just hope this experiment won’t take too long. I just want to be with my family.

Buzz: Don’t worry, your family is being taken care of. After all, I am the one protecting them.

They entered the sublevel slowly, PT9 hesitated to pass the open doors but he had no choice but to follow the general into the secret laboratory. At first, he noticed the smell of chemicals, coming from the surgical room, the odd glowing of preservation tanks, and the deafening white noise of the entire area. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the vault doors slam shut, cutting him off from the rest of the bunker. He turned to gaze at Buzz Grunt and noticed the smile on his face which beckoned him closer to the small room he was motioning to. He hobbled into the cubical room and looked around for any lab equipment. There wasn’t any! He whirled around and the door slammed shut in his face, backing him against the glass walls of the cell. Buzz only continued to smile, mocking the alien behind the glass, as he locked the doors shut with the keys in his pocket.

PT9: Buzz what is this? You can’t do this?

Buzz: You know what this is, alien. I’ve been watching you for years and you managed to convince the entirety of Simnation that you’re nothing but a retiree alien looking to raise a family. Heh, but I’m not stupid, Smith. Oh no, I knew that you were plotting something the minute you stepped foot into Strangetown. I know you planted the first seed of the bizarre plant, I know you and your friends are trying to turn us, humans, into zombies for your experiments!

Buzz: You should be thankful I’m keeping Jenny and your kids away from danger, away from you!

PT9: You’re a madman Buzz! I didn’t plant any seeds or turn anyone into zombies, I’ve spent the last eighteen years of my life providing for my family and trying to fit in with you humans! I’m innocent!

Buzz: IM MAD AND YOU’RE INNOCENT!? Tell that to Glarn Curious and every unfortunate creature that you experimented on PT9! I know your secrets, I know everything you’ve done to this place! And I’m saving Simnation by getting rid of you!

PT9: I haven’t done anything!

Buzz: We are done here Pollination Technician 9. I will take care of Jenny and your dumb kids. At least now they will have a bright future ahead of them. For now, I will hand you over to my colleagues…

PT9: No...not them! You said you would protect me and my family! Buzz please, I have another one on the way at least wait until I can see them!

Dude in Black 1: It’s a pleasure doing business with you, General, we will take this alien off your hands now.

Dude in Black 2: We have already begun preparations to send PT9 to Sixam, Strangetown is safe thanks to you.

Buzz: I am glad that I was able to keep Simnation safe from yet another threat. Thankyou for your work agents.

PT9: Liars! All of you are liars!

#strangetown #strangetown mystery #pt9 smith #johnny smith #Ripp Grunt #buzz grunt

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skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt 1 or 8 of the Angst list for Malex, please.

This is probably not what you wanted, Nonny Mus... but maybe it is? I went with Prompt 1 “I love you! Is that what you want to hear?” Either way, it is suitably ANGSTY and I hope you enjoy it!

TW: self-harm, talk about self-harm (after the cut)

Also available on AO3.

---

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?” ANGST

Michael got the call a little after midnight. He’d been down in bunker under the junk yard making diagrams for a project he wanted to start when his phone started buzzing across the worktable. He furrowed his brow and stared at it for a moment, not recognizing the number on the screen and feeling a little leery of any signal that could get to him underground. Normally when he was in the bunker, his phone was for keeping time and no one could get a call through to him. He let the phone go to voicemail before turning back to his drawings. Seconds later it started buzzing again, the same number lighting up the phone’s screen and taunting him. He it go to voicemail. He let it go to voicemail three more times before he finally couldn’t stand it any longer and picked up the phone.

“Whoever you are, it should be pretty obvious I’m not taking any calls ri—” he started, sarcasm being his best and most beloved defense mechanism.

“Michael?! It’s Forrest,” a frantic sounding voice cut him off. Michael paused, looking at his phone in confusion before answering.

“Forrest? Nazi Forrest?” Michael asked, curiosity beating out annoyance. Why was Forrest calling him? He and Alex had been dating for about a month and from what Michael could tell from his brief run-ins with them, things were going well. Was something wrong with Alex?

“Yeah, hey…. I hate to ask this, but uh… can you come over to Alex’s?” Forrest asked, sounding nervous and ready to be told to go to hell. He apparently had no idea how many awkward situations Michael would go through in order to make Alex happy.

“I mean, I guess I can head that way? What’s up? Everything alright over there? Need me to fix a busted pipe or something?” Michael asked, already shutting off the lights in the bunker and cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he moves around the room.

“Uh… Look, lemme level with you. I got hear about an hour ago and Alex seemed about three drinks ahead of me. Not like… hammered, but obviously drunk. We were… uhm… anyway, we were messing around and he just like… freaked out on me and locked himself in the bathroom? Now he’s crying and I can hear him saying your name occasionally and honestly, I don’t know what to do?” Forrest sounded almost apologetic that he had to call Michael and admit that they’d been “messing around”.

“What did you do to him? If you hurt him, motherfucker, I will fucking kill you, Michael replied with a steady voice despite being almost blinded by the sudden flush of rage through his system.

“Dude, I would never! No, we weren’t even doing anything interesting yet. We were just making out and he like… broke away and bolted for the bathroom. I thought he was going to vomit or something, but then he was in there for like… a long time and I didn’t hear anything so I went to check on him and that’s when I realized he’d locked the door and he was like… crying or something,” Forrest explained. Michael climbed the ladder as quickly as he could and ran to his truck, throwing himself the cab and throwing the ignition in almost one movement. “Look, are you coming over or what?”

“I’m on my way. Just try to keep him calm if you can. Talk to him through the door,” Michael advised.

“Obviously,” Forrest replied sarcastically. Michael wanted to gut him for the attitude, but instead settled for just hanging up on him. He tossed the phone onto the dash and peeled out of the junkyard and towards Alex’s house. He really hoped it was his house and not the cabin but figured Forrest would have clarified if it had been out of town.

As he drove, Michael tried to think of things he knew would trigger Alex to binge drinking and break down, but he had to admit to himself that he didn’t know of anything off hand. Alex was the controlled one, the one who dealt with his emotions by repressing the hell out of them until they blew up in a volcanic fit all over anyone unlucky enough to be around. This sounded more like Michael’s way of handling the Too Much of his brain and heart, escaping into a false euphoria that numbed the outer world for a while. Maybe this was one of those volcanic fits, maybe he’d be fine with a little sleep and some Pedialyte.

Michael turned into Alex’s driveway ten minutes after hanging up with Forrest (shaving five minutes off his normal drive time by speeding unapologetically in his worry to get to Alex). When he arrived, Forrest met him outside in the driveway looking frazzled. Michael started to blow past him when he felt Forrest catch his arm.

“What!” Michael yelled, yanking his arm out of Forrest’s grasp.

“Michael, wait! Wait! Let’s talk for a moment, I think I figured out what this is,” Forrest called after him, catching Michael’s shirt and slowing him on his way to the front door. Michael rounded on him with a snarl.

“What do you think this is about then, Forrest? What did you do?!” he asked through gritted teeth, summoning every last drop of patience in his body for anything other than Alex. Forrest looked at him with wide eyes, taking half a step back from Michael and dropping his hand.

“I told you, man, I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t hurt Alex on purpose or force him to do anything he didn’t want to do!” Forrest added quickly, voice rising when Michael opened his mouth to speak. “I think this is about you.”

Michael reared back like he’d been slapped.

“How could I have done anything to Alex? I haven’t even talked to him in like… three weeks? Not since you two… ya know. Started dating or whatever,” Michael said, confusion and shame warring with him. He knew he’d been borderline ghosting Alex since he’d officially begun dating Forrest, but he’d felt like it was the best way to handle the situation. Alex wasn’t going to move on with him around anymore than he did when Alex was present in his life. He hadn’t thought he was being cruel though? And when did Alex not just storm in and demand his attention when he really wanted it?

Forrest was quiet, just watching Michael as he battled internally with his own guilt real or imagined. Finally, he broke through Michael’s spiral.

“So… So Alex and I talked about what his dad did to you back in high school. We also talked about how Alex dealt with his dad’s behavior before you came along and how he still deals with things when the pressure gets to just be… too much. Did… did you know that Alex self-harms?” Forrest asked quietly, eyes mapping over Michael’s features to see if he had known what he’d revealed. Michael hadn’t known. His chest suddenly felt hollow at the idea of Alex hurting himself, of creating physical pain to control emotional pain. He ached because he hadn’t known and Alex had never told him, had hidden that part of himself from Michael.

“I can see that you didn’t. Okay, well, shit. Okay, so that’s out of the bag. Now let me compound that knowledge by telling you that Alex still carries a lot of guilt around what happened with his dad and you. He logically knows it’s not his fault, but you know how it is… when your brain turns on you, you just sometimes can’t turn it off. And apparently today is the um… anniversary?... of that particular day. I kinda feel like this is something he does habitually on this day. I wasn’t even supposed to come over, I surprised him so I wouldn’t have even seen this is I hadn’t… but yeah,” Forrest trailed off. Michael knew he was staring at him, at the ghost-white skin and horror-stricken eyes. He must’ve looked so stupid, but he just couldn’t… couldn’t wrap his mind around what Forrest was telling him. He heard Forrest sigh loudly. “Look man, go in there and talk him down. I’m going to get out of here. Do whatever you have to do, okay? I can’t help him through this, he doesn’t need me.”

Michael watched him walk to the curb and get into his little black sedan. He heard the engine turn over and watched the car drive off down Alex’s road, turning right at the stop sign, and then out of Michael’s sight. He turned and looked at the door to Alex’s house, a few inches ajar, inviting Michael in. He was suddenly cold with fear, terrified he’d make this whole situation worse if he went in there and tried to talk to Alex. He hated Forrest for abandoning Alex, for abandoning them both, to let the Fate’s sort out as they would. He hated himself for thinking he knew every last piece of Alex’s soul and then finding out that he was woefully ignorant of such an important secret. He also hated that Alex hadn’t been the one to share that secret with him, that he’d had to hear it second-hand, and all that that meant. Ten years going on eleven. Ten anniversaries with one possibly being ‘celebrated’ while Michael stood outside pissing himself.

He pushed through the open front door and closed it quietly behind himself. He toed his shoes off in the foyer like he knew Alex liked people to do when visit. He threw his keys, wallet, and phone onto the front door sideboard. He didn’t think he’d be leaving tonight and sleeping with his pockets full was a pet peeve of his. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Michael turned and started towards the back of the house where the bedrooms were. The house boasted one bathroom, but it was well sized for the era of house it was in. Some previous owner must’ve sacrificed a closet to open it up. Michael pushed down on the newly installed lever door handle which stuck halfway down, proving it to still be locked. Cautiously, Michael pressed his ear to the door to see if he could hear anything on the other side. He didn’t know which he wished for, sound or silence. When silence greeted him, he felt like this might be worse.

He concentrated his TK on the door lock mechanism and slipped the lock. Slowly he pushed down the lever handle again and opened the door. He held his breath as the door swung inwards on silent hinges and his eyes tracked over every new inch of the room revealed by the opening barrier. Alex was laying in the bathtub. He still had his clothes on and he looked pale…deathly so. Michael had to clench his jaw against the tightening in his throat and the surge in his stomach. He stepped in and closed the door behind him quietly. Alex didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t seem to breathe. Michael walked over and looked down at him in the tub. He looked almost serene, his hands folded over his stomach, his knees bent and bare. He was laying there in a tank top and boxers. His prosthetic, liner, and jeans were piled against the wall between the toilet and the bathtub. Michael wondered if he could find all the places Alex had hurt himself; if he’d be able to tell the difference between the self-inflicted scars and the ones an unfair life had given to him. With a shaking hand, Michael pressed his fingers to Alex’s neck, intent on finding a pulse, when Alex’s dark eyes flew open and before Michael could blink, he was looking at the closed bathroom door with Alex’s arm around his neck as he held him in a choke hold. It only lasted for a second before he was being let go, his body falling forward as he gasped for air.

“Fuck! Michael what were you thinking sneaking up on me like that?” Alex yelled from behind him, voice echoing oddly on the bathroom walls. He sounded like he was angry like a parent would be angry and a child who’d scared them, covering fear with aggression. Michael coughed and turned his body to see Alex slumped back in the tub, one hand covering his eyes and other gripped tight in agitation. “I could have hurt you!”

“Oh, so you only get to hurt you today, is that it?” Michael replied, surprised by how much anger his voice felt. He’d been so scared a moment ago that the transition to anger startled even him.

“What are you talking about? Why the fuck are you here, Guerin? Where’s Forrest?” Alex asked rapid-fire. His voice was slightly slurred and his pupils seemed impossibly huge.

“Forrest left, but not before calling me to tell me you were locked in here hurting yourself. Apparently, you’ve been hurting yourself for a long time…,” Michael paused, hoping Alex would deny it, but when he stayed quiet, Michael continued. “Why didn’t you tell me, Alex?”

“Why do you care? You walked away. You looked away. It doesn’t matter what I do to myself, it’s none of your business!” Alex growled at him looking angry enough to throw hands.

“Because I love you! Is that what you want to hear? I fucking love you and I don’t like that you’re punishing yourself for something that isn’t even your fault!” Michael snarled back, hitting the cabinet next to him. Alex glared at him silently.

“You’re not the boss of me. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t feel guilty about. It was my fault we were found in the shed. It was my fault for not stopping my dad from hurting you. It was my fault you had to use a half-functional hand for ten years. I caused that and I feel guilty for it, Guerin and you can’t change my mind about it!” Alex was yelling by the end, tears making his eyes shine in the warm fluorescent glow of the vanity lighting and Michael found him beautiful, even as his the corners of his mouth pulled down and he bared his teeth at him in agony. “This is my penance, Michael. Let me have it.”

Michael watched him, watched his face shatter, and watched his body pull in tight to itself against the side of the bathtub. He could see the barest hint of red smeared between Alex’s knee and calf as he listened to Alex begin to sob. It was such an ugly, raw sound that seemed to be clawing its way from his gut and inflicting as much damage as possible on its way out. It made Michael’s own face hurt, feel hot and flushed, vision blurring as he leaked tears in sympathy.

Awkwardly, Michael stood up and climbed into the bathtub next to Alex. He reached out and grabbed Alex’s shoulders, tipping his body towards Michael’s. Alex pushed him away at first, shaking his head and wiping roughly at his eyes, but when Michael tried again, he allowed it. He allowed Michael to pull him in against his body and wrap his arms around him. Then he clung to Michael. He shoved his face into he soft, almost threadbare cotton of Michael’s shirt and muffled a scream against his stomach. His body shook as he let Michael see what ten, going on eleven, years of bleeding was doing to Alex on the inside and Michael understood for the barest flicker of an instant why cutting might be a preferably way in Alex’s mind to deal with an anniversary of their shared trauma. Michael wouldn’t let him talk about it, tried to ignore it himself, but he’d used his ugly, malformed, half useless hand as his own penance for the same amount of time. He’d mourned losing the thing that hurt him every day because he’d been using it to assuage his own guilt. So he didn’t say anything, he let Alex sob. He let him scream, and clench his fists in Michael’s shirt, and do anything he wanted as long as he let Michael keep holding onto him.

When it quieted down, Alex laying limply on top of Michael’s torso breathing through his mouth because his nose had congested in the outpouring, Michael dared to speak.

“I don’t like that you hurt yourself. I don’t like it at all. But,” he said, giving Alex a look to keep him quiet while he finished, “but I understand it. I get the necessity in your mind for it. I just wish it hadn’t been necessary for you to find a way to let yourself feel things and control the output of those feelings. I wish the hurt you’ve lived through had never been so big you had to let it out a little at a time.”

They stayed like that for some time, until Alex's nose cleared and his breathing slowed until Michael was sure he’d fallen asleep. When he thought Alex was asleep for real, his weight heavy and loose against him, Michael let himself break down. He looked at Alex and thought of all the broken pieces of themselves they’d displayed over the years and wondered how he’d missed this one. How did he never notice? He strained to keep his muscles from shaking too hard and his breathing from coming out too loudly. He didn’t want Alex to add this to his own mountain of guilt. He watched a few tears darken the hair at Alex's crown and imagined a life without Alex in it. It felt unbearable.

A warm hand reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers squeezing the tense muscles almost like an apology.

“Can we go to bed? We’ll both regret it if we spend the night in here,” Alex asked, turning his head to look up into Michael’s face. His eyes were puffy and red still, but his expression just looked tired. He no longer looked like he was being burned alive and Michael tried to take some comfort in that.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael answered, sniffing loudly and wiping away his tears and snot with the sleeve of his shirt.

Alex moved off of him and Michael thought for a second he wouldn’t be able to stand the lightness it left in his wake. But he could, so he stood and offered a hand to Alex to help him stand.

“Crutches?” Michael asked succinctly as he steadied Alex with his hands.

“Carry me?” Alex requested softly, sounding shy as he gauged Michael’s reaction. Michael gave him a reassuring smile before bending to place his arm behind his knee and the other behind his back. When he felt Alex’s arms look around his neck he swung Alex’s body up and held it firmly against his own. Alex wasn’t a waif by any means, but Michael hauled car parts around for a living, so he wasn’t a burden either. He stepped out of the tub and he made his way to the bedroom. The sheets were messed up, pushed to the side that no one slept on and a small warm feeling of relief came over Michael when he realized he’d been looking for signs of Forrest. He gently deposited Alex next to the bed and noticed half dried blood on his arm. Michael checked the back of Alex’s leg and saw the small red line above his knee.

“Lay on the bed on your stomach and I’ll go get some antiseptic and a band aid for your leg,” Michael instructed Alex as he moved back towards the bedroom. He heard Alex moving onto the bed as he started rummaging under the cabinet for Alex’s first aid kit. He grabbed it and wet a washcloth in warm water before walking back to the bedroom. Alex had shed his shirt and was laying on his stomach staring into the empty air in front of him. Michael moved to the side of the bed and set the first aid kit on the bedside table. Then he started to clean the smeared, dried and half congealed blood from the back of Alex’s leg. As he did so he noticed thin, white scars next to the new open spot. Five hatch marks beside the new one. When he glanced at Alex’s other leg he saw five more on it, old and faded to practically invisible unless you were looking for them. Michael sucked in a breath, but instead of lashing out as he wanted to do, he clenched his jaw tightly shut and cleaned up the last of the mess on Alex’s skin. He tossed the rag towards the hamper and turned to the first aid kit.

“You know those aren’t all about that night. They’re about my entire childhood. My adulthood so far. And they’re about that night. It’s not just one thing. I was doing this to myself for years before I ever met you,” Alex intoned flatly, eyes meeting Michael’s for only a moment before falling back into staring at nothing ahead of him.

Michael didn’t respond, didn’t know how to respond, so he kept working. He grabbed an alcohol pad and swiped over the cut and then laid a piece of gauze over it, taping the edges securely. The gauze was probably overkill, it wasn’t a terribly deep cut, but he didn’t want it to bleed on Alex’s sheets in the night (and he secretly hoped it wouldn’t scar, wouldn’t turn into another tick to mark the years between them). When he finished he gathered his mess and took the first aid kid back into the bathroom, replacing it where he’d found it. Slowly, with growing trepidation, Michael approached the bed again.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked quietly, watching Alex’s face for his reaction. Alex closed his eyes as if the answer was far back in the recesses of his mind before he nodded and patted the inside of the bed next to him. Michael started to strip.

“I’m still dating Forrest,” Alex said as Michael reached for the button on his jeans. Michael looked at him, saw the regret in his eyes as he looked over the skin Michael had revealed so far. As far as consolation prizes went, it would have to do.

“I understand. But I’d like to not sleep in my jeans?” Michael said, hands still paused by the fly as he waited for Alex’s answer. Alex nodded and shut his eyes again, arms raising to snake under the pillow beneath his head and draw it closer to him. Michael finished stripping down to his boxers and crawled onto the bed next to Alex. He grabbed the covers and pulled it over them both before reaching past Alex’s shoulder to turn off the bedside lamp. He laid on his side facing Alex, trying to will his body to relax, but the adrenaline of the past few hours hadn’t turned into lethargy yet so instead he just tried to stay still and quiet.

“Guerin? Cover me?” Alex asked, turning his head to look at Michael as he did. Michael grabbed the blanket that was already covering mid-way up Alex’s back and pulled it to his shoulders. He saw Alex smile and shake his head minutely. “I mean lay on me a little. I wanna feel anchored tonight.”

“Uhhh… you’re still dating Forrest?” Michael repeated Alex’s earlier pronouncement with confusion obvious in his voice.

“I didn’t ask you to fuck me, I asked you to lay on me. Platonically. Or romantically, but not sexually. Just get over here, jeez,” Alex joked as Michael continued to look slightly confused. But Michael wouldn’t say no to Alex so he scooted closed and threw a leg over the back of Alex’s, his chest covering one of Alex’s arms and shoulder, and their faces resting very close together.

“Just because I’m dating someone else doesn’t mean I don’t love you and it doesn’t mean I don’t need you sometimes,” Alex said softly into the air between them. An invisible hand squeezed Michael’s heart, but it didn’t hurt like the rest of the night. This felt like a good ache like a growing pain.

“Me too, Alex. Good night?” Michael asked, snuggling his body closer as the air cleared between them.

“Good night.”

#TW: self harm #CW: self harm #malex fic #malex #forlex #rnm fic #alex manes #michael guerin #forrest long

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evolutionsvoid · 4 years ago

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When we finally slew that great leviathan, we thought that day was one to be celebrated. Such a moment would go down in history, and people would be telling the tale to their children and grandchildren for years to come. It took only a month or two before we realized that such a time would be seen as a regret rather than a victory. The failed demolition of the corpse and the resulting worm swarm should have been our first clue, but we were still blinded by our successes. Surely that was an inconvenience and not an omen of things to come, right? When Bitoso reared its many heads and began to terrorize our cities, we finally had to accept reality. The great titan that we defeated was not just a colossal beast, it was an entire ecosystem. A creature of that impossible size would be the perfect home for many critters and parasites, with plenty of resources to be had both inside and out. When we killed the leviathan, we destroyed the food and shelter for countless of organisms, and they were forced to relocate. Since its massive corpse was laying on top of a city, the fleeing denizens found refuge in our own homes, and then the problems started. Bitoso was the first one to reveal itself to the world, and we had hoped it was the only survive of that exodus. Sadly, this was not the case. Not long after Bitoso burst from the sewers and slithered through the streets, another terror was found. A trail of sinkholes and collapsing tunnels led investigators into the wilds, and then straight into the heart of another unfortunate metropolis. When an entire city block sank into the earth, we knew that normalcy would never return to this world. The giant beast that caused such destruction has only been fully seen a handful of times, as it spends most of its life underground. Regardless, it has earned itself the name: Infradestructor. The title certainly isn't as clever and sophisticated as Bitoso's, but it certainly fits the beast. A creature that size with the ability to burrow through practically anything is an absolute nightmare to building foundations and infrastructure. The many tunnels it carves out are prone to collapsing, causing everything sitting up top to come crumbling down. If the Infradestructor kept to the wilds, than perhaps its wouldn't be so bad. Unfortunately, it has quite a liking to human towns and cities. Scientists believe this may have to do with the creature's origins, as they claim this horrid monster was a type of parasitic skin mite. It would have been living in the hide of the leviathan, carving through the epidermis and feeding on the flesh around it. Any witness to the battle can tell you that the titan was in no way thin skinned, it took bunker busters to even break through its armored hide. Thus it can be reasoned that the mite was familiar with a rather hardened and tough stratum, so perhaps it finds our tons of concrete, gravel and asphalt a fitting substitute. Maybe it thinks our cities are just another titan to carve through and feed on, despite the fact it is much bigger than it originally was. Just like Bitoso, it is believed that its escape from the corpse landed it in a nutrient rich slurry of blood, flesh and sewage, causing it to grow astronomically. Who knows, maybe the leviathan's blood is a freaking mutagen... Regardless of how it reached such size, all that matters now is finding a way to destroy the Infradestructor before it topples any more cities. It possesses three pairs of limbs that are coated in powerful claws and spikes, which allow it to shred through any substance. Its whole body is covered in these spines, helping it carve its way through the earth as it digs. To aid in its efforts, its arms and body secrete a powerful digestive enzyme that turns rock and steel into goop. People have seen this powerful fluid in action, mainly when the mite surfaces and engages attackers. As it flails and fights, gobs of the stuff go flying and splatter across buildings and streets. There are plenty of videos out there showing this enzyme eating through solid concrete within seconds, and no one dares mention the footage of when this stuff lands on a person. With its claws and acid, it tears through the earth with ease as it searches for food. It isn't fully confirmed what the Infradestructor eats, but it is believed it is a combination of melted concrete and sewage. It tends to target areas that are dense with sewage lines and waste. Quite a few nearby landfills have suddenly vanished into the earth, possibly serving as a feast for this insatiable monstrosity. Due to its love for cities and towns, it is believed that some material we use for construction is another favorite of the creature. Concrete and cement is the current guess, as it goes after larger buildings as well as bridges. That sadly does not mean that smaller structures and places are safe, as the mite often burrows through them to get to the juicy parts, which means that your house or business is going to get eaten by the resulting sinkhole.

Efforts to kill the Infradestructor have ended in failure, with the best plans only wounding or scaring the beast. Since it spends so long underground, it is hard to target it for an aerial assault. Planes, helicopters and tanks are pretty much useless until it emerges, and getting it to the surface is incredibly difficult. Bunker busters and buried charges have been used to try and kill it, but the ground absorbs too much of the impact and the mite moves ridiculously fast. Even when it is hit, it is very hardy and prefers to hide underground to nurse its wounds. By adding more detonations, it is possible to drive it to the surface, but that can also scare the mite and cause it to panic. While this may be good against other combatants, it isn't when this beast is hiding beneath populated areas. When it gets scared, it tries to throw off its attackers by fleeing in a rather erratic way. It pretty much burrows wildly through the earth, going every which way to try to confuse its opponents. This has the unfortunate effect of undermining the entire area and causing widespread collapses. One operation accidentally caused this frenzy and wound up burying three different towns as the mite went crazy. Even when they flush it to the surface, it isn't an easy beast to take down. The many spines seem indestructible and its flesh is quick to heal. Its claws tear through any armor or vehicle nearby, making a land assault suicidal. Attacking from the air isn't safe either, as the mite has learned an obnoxious tactic. Using its claws, it rips into the ground, scoops up the debris and then launches it into the air. With all limbs flailing and throwing, the creature is capable of spraying plumes of dirt and rock everywhere, clogging the airspace. A stone the size of a fist doesn't seem like much, but it is a huge problem to a copter or jet. Then factor in a couple thousand of them as they are launched into the sky, only to come raining back down. At this point, it is best to keep your distance and attack from super long range. However, if pressure is not kept on the Infradestructor, then it will burrow back into the ground and escape. Nothing angers the military more than sacrificing countless of lives, resources and weapons just to have the target grow bored and leave. With all this devastation and destruction, the new plan is to nuke the creature when it emerges. Hopefully the strength of an atomic bomb can finish it off once and for all, but that can only happen if it is on the surface. Unfortunately, the Infradestructor is learning and adapting, and it is getting harder and harder to drive it upward. It knows our tactics and it is growing bolder. Scaring it from its burrow may no longer be an option. The other issue people bring up is what will happen to the creature or corpse once we irradiate it? If we fail to kill it with this one strike, will it only grow stronger? And what if it does die? We have killed a titan like this before, and see what misery came from that. Who knows what is dwelling inside these beasts, ready to escape and continue its legacy of terror? ---------------------------------------------------- Kaijune is winding down, but we aren't done yet! Giant parasites! Bitoso has company!

#mite #scabies #monster #creature #kaiju #kaijune #kaijune2020 #art #drawing

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horsyunicorn · 3 years ago

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my nightmare this morning (which I thought was due to staying up til 4am from the stress of baking all day then trying to do solstice bounties in D2, but it's not the first time I've had this dream, or at least, I had it at least twice this morning ) was - I was some kind of secret agent and I found a bunker with a good store of equipment and supplies, and my parents and I hid there a short while, but we got a warning that a missile was incoming, so we scrambled out of the place and into escape vehicles. My parents went in like a boat or fast car or something. I yelled at them as they were going to just grab their passports (they had other vital equipmebt already on them) and leave. I myself ran to a rocket/airplane buried in a second bunker. I hurriedly closed the triple layers of protection and waited for the missile to hit

The previous time I'd had this dream, I'd been paying much more attention and I actually calculated the precise time the missile would impact based on its trajectory; and I could relax; and I launched well before it hit so the blast wave did nothing to my rocket/air craft.

This time on the other hand, I had no idea if the precise impact time and I panicked and decided to hunker down until I definitely felt the impact. Of course I wouldn't really feel the impact if I was protected properly, so I waited until the heat sensors suddenly hit several hundred degrees - that was the explosion.

Even as the l fires were dying down outside (and my enemy was probably congratulating themself) I started to access a small robotic rover that had been left in the lower levels of the first bunker. It was still operational and I could control it using wifi. I started moving it around using its optical camera. It was very scary cos the camera set up mimicked a human height and field of view. There were morlock-like underground dwellers that I started investigating while waiting for the outside to stop being on fire, they totally freaked me out

#like probably I had this cos I watched Colin furzes videos about building a tunnel and his bunker

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angelgrovehighschool · 4 years ago

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My current sims story is ... so I’ve recreated Wendy from maniac mansion but now she’s black and honestly ... she should have been in the first place... so I’m playing as though she went into the mansion and rescued Sandy and she can’t believe like the Edison’s were able to do this and now she’s dedicated to investigating aliens and mermaids and vampires and all of that shit because she’s seen the slimes firsthand.

So she moved to Strangerville to investigate the bunker and the reports of people behaving strangely ... I haven’t played through the strangerville content so I’m doing it now ... I was doing a lot of mingling and just meeting like the conspiracy theorists and freaks in town and then I met George Cahill.... the old man who lives underground under the plane wreck ... he’s paranoid and like based on where he lives very reclusive. Anyway they fell in love and I let it happen ... she would always go and share her notes with George and over time they started kissing what am I supposed to do. once she got into the secret lab and the spores released she moved into the bunker. She’s on the journalist career track and she’s going to break the fucking story!! Also She is pregnant now which is a pain in the ass but since George is an elder he can quit his lil job and be with the baby and they can take turns collecting information and raising the kid.

I’m thinking once she’s done with the strangerville storyline they will move to Sulani and try to figure out like the mystery behind mermaids and she’ll write a huge story on that ... and then once George gets older and dies we will try to figure out how to bring him back to life because I for real don’t know how to do that and I can larp like it’s Wendy trying to figure out the necronomicon

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

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Love in an Underground Bunker - AU Day 5

Title: Love in an Underground Bunker

Author: Purple_ducky00

Prompted by @ironfamquotesincorrect

Link Filled: U2: Secret Relationship of the Bucky Barnes Bingo

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK IS NSFK!

++++++++++++

The air is bad. They have to find shelter, but they might not have enough time. The AIM agents are upon them, spraying them with the toxic gas that caused so much destruction in the first place. Tony trips on a rock, falling flat on his face and smashes his oxygen mask. The gas starts to fill his already weak lungs, and he can feel himself drifting… drifting… Suddenly the cool oxygen is back. He looks up to see a mask-less Bucky Barnes.

“Stay there” Barnes mouths and spins around firing his weapon. Tony knows Barnes is superhuman, but even he can’t breathe too much of this gas, or he’ll die. Natasha slides in beside Barnes, taking down AIM henchmen one by one. As the AIM men fall, the gas rises. Pretty soon, it gets too high and Tony, Bucky, and Nat have to make a break for it. They reach their hideout before the gas overtakes them.

Bucky takes one step inside the bunker and collapses. Captain Rogers, the leader and Bucky’s best friend, runs over. “What happened? Where’s his mask? Tony, why do you have his mask on?” He roars. “What is the number one rule in this unit?”

“Never take off your mask nor take another’s outside the bunker.” Tony mumbles.

“Exactly.” Rogers snaps. “Now, Bucky could have died! He’s being taken to intensive care now. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” Tony looks Steve right in the eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t! From now on, you’re not cleared for missions. Your entire job is to repair broken armor and tech.”

Tony wants to scream. That is not fair. All he did was trip on a rock that he couldn’t see due to the gas. They weren’t even supposed to be out that late, but Steve needed intel. And it wasn’t his fault that Bucky gave him his mask. What was he supposed to do – take it off and hand it back to Bucky? Then they’d both be suffering from the gas. Knowing it’s no use to argue, Tony sighs and turns to go to his quarters. Exhausted from the long day, he gets a quick shower and falls asleep.

++++++

Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

The water is toxic, and the insurgents must rely on deep water wells for drinking and cleaning. Underground greenhouses with UV lights are used to grow plants. Animals are kept in paddocks as large as each unit can afford. Storehouses of canned goods are piled high. Each leader must set their own rations. Given that Steve had fought all his life, he set rations fairly.

Every day at 7pm, AIM agents are air dropped into the lowlands and spray more gas across the lands. Anyone who had to leave the bunker made sure they had a weapon and got back before 7pm. AIM agents are known for shooting first and never asking questions.

Last night, an AIM agent destroyed the SHEILD bunker transmission systems, so Steve’s unit was stranded with no comms. He sent Tony, Bucky, and Nat out to repair the systems. It was not an easy fix, however, and it took Tony a long time to repair the busted systems. By 6pm, he had the comms up and running functionally but not perfectly, but Rogers asked them to stay a little to perfect and camouflage them. By the time they had finished, it was 7pm and they had to avoid AIM agents.

Now, Tony’s sitting on his bed, wondering if Bucky’s ok. He would go sit by his bed, but no one knows he and Bucky are dating. The units don’t encourage relationships for a few reasons. 1.) They don’t want children running around the bunker. They understand that in order to survive for generations, they will have to reproduce, but they hope to make the world a little better before they do. 2.) People unfortunately are bound to die. Everyone should be unhappy, but they don’t want anyone unable to do their jobs due to grief. Steve is a little more lenient with his unit, but Tony knows Steve disapproves of him, he wouldn’t be happy to know his best friend is dating him. 3.) Close quarters. No one wants to hear anything.

Tony decides to check in on him, if only to see what he’s doing. Unsurprisingly, Steve is sitting beside Bucky’s bed. He looks up when Tony walks up to the open door. “What are you doing here?” He hisses.

“I just came by to see if he’s okay,” Tony blurts, taken aback by Steve’s animosity. He thought Steve would by upset, but not full-out angry.

Steve rises from his chair. “You don’t deserve to see him. He almost died!”

“So, Steve, I was running some numbers, and it looks like…” Howard stops at the door and looks up from his tablet. “What’s going on here?”

“Your son almost got Bucky killed. Now he wants to make sure he’s all right.” Steve scoffs. “He wouldn’t have to if he had just kept his mask on.”

Howard shakes his head. “When has Anthony ever been rational? He’s an idiot. Now, Tony, leave us so Steve and I can discuss.”

“Whatever.” Tony throws up his hands. It’s not like he’ll get anywhere trying to argue with these two. Neither of them like him, and they’re just going to dismiss him anyways.

Tony understands why Steve is so protective of Bucky. He was captured by the government at one point and experimented on. They wanted to turn him into an invincible mindless AIM agent that would destroy the rebellion once and for all. Luckily, Steve was able to sneak in, thanks to Howard and Peggy, and free Bucky. It took a while for Bucky to readjust to his life, and he was kept in isolation for a long time. Now, Steve freaks out if even the slightest thing happens to him.

Slamming his hand against the wall, Tony groans and walks into his makeshift lab. He does most of the updating and innovation now. Howard used to but as his health is declining to his great dismay, he reluctantly passed the role off to Tony. Howard doesn’t hesitate to rip Tony apart any chance he can get, even if Tony’s update works excellently.

He grumbles as he fixes up his mask. He’s going to make this thing nigh indestructible. DUME wheels over, cocking his claw as if asking a question. “It’s ok, DUME, it was my fault, but I’m just mad.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Steve yours broke?” Tony jumps as he hears Nat’s voice from the doorway.

“Gah. Nat, I have a condition!” He yelps. “You know he won’t care. It’s me. I’m always fucking up. I’m sure if it were up to Howard, he’d send me out without a mask to fend for myself. Luckily, Steve cares a little about human lives, even if he’s not a fan of the human himself.”

Natasha walks in and pats DUME on the head. He squeals and wheels around in circles excitedly. Tony smiles. “He already has a crush on you. Don’t encourage him.”

“Tony. I know why you don’t want to make a big deal about it. You guys have been very subtle and sneaky, but I know. No matter what, you should tell Steve that your mask broke.”

“I’m not going to. And you’re not either.” Tony points a finger at her.

She smiles sweetly. “I dare you to stop me.” And walks out, closing the door behind her.

Tony groans again and bangs his head on the countertop. What is his life?

++++++

Bucky wakes up with a start. Tony is dying… or hurt… or… Bucky struggles to find air. It feels like someone just sucked out his lungs.

“Bucky. Bucky. Hey, you’re safe.” Steve is there.

He sucks in a large breath and starts to cough. “Where’s cough Tony cough? Is…” His sentence gets cut off by a series of hacking coughs.

Steve waits until Bucky calms before he schools his face and says stiffly, “Tony’s fine. He should be the least of your worries. It’s his fault you got hurt.”

“I had a dream that he was in pain. Is he here?”

“It’s just the neurotoxins from the gas,” Bruce explains calmly. “Tony’s fine.”

“I need to see him.”

“Bucky, please. He’s fine.” Steve starts to argue, but Bucky just pleads.

“Steve, you should know why I need to see him. Just… let me see him, please?” Bucky has told Steve about the nightmares he’d had after Steve rescued him from the government. Bucky would have to sleep in the same room as Steve so that he knew that Steve was still there, alive and well. A physical touch went a long way for Bucky after these nightmares.

Steve can’t say no to the fear in Bucky’s eyes, so he calls for Tony to come to medical. Tony arrives a few minutes later, shifting from foot-to-foot. Bucky latches onto his Sun, the center of his universe, immediately. “Tony,” he breathes.

++++++

Tony is helping | Rhodey with his new armor when Steve’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Tony, report to medical immediately.”

“What did you do?” Rhodey asks. He is the only person Tony told about him and Bucky. He knows he can trust Rhodey to keep a secret.

Tony raises his hands. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe that’s what the problem is.” He shakes his head. “I better go before I get reduced to dishwashing duty only or something.”

He races down to the medical and stops at the door when he sees Bucky is awake. Bucky is looking at him with relief and adoration in his eyes. “Tony,” He says, almost reverently.

“Hi Bucky.” Tony smiles sadly. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.” He turns to Steve. “Did you need something?”

Steve nods to Bucky who has reached his arms out and is now wiggling his fingers at Tony. “Go to him. He needs to make sure you’re ok.”

What the hell is going on here? Did Bucky tell Steve? Tony thinks incredulously as he walks over to Bucky. And Steve is supportive? Then he remembers Bucky telling him about nightmares he has that feel so real, he needs physical reassurance. “Hey Bucky. I’m ok. I’m alright, thanks to you. You saved me.”

Bucky pets Tony’s hair and runs his hand down the side of his face. “You’re ok.” He says softly. “Tony, darling, I almost died in those nightmares. If you weren’t here? What’s the point?”

“I’m sure you could live without me.” Tony doesn’t know what to say. Are they still keeping it a secret? Are they not? He doesn’t know.

“No.” Bucky clutches Tony’s hand to his heart. “I love you, Tony. You’re my life, my love. When you fell and I saw that your mask was cracked, I knew I had to give you mine. I knew I’d be fine without one, but you wouldn’t have been. Don’t ever scare me like that again, love.”

Tony’s heart melts. “Hey Winter Wonder. I love you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be staying in for a long time. Now, it’s just me who has to worry about you.”

“I’ll be extra careful.” Bucky smiles and closes his eyes. “Now kiss me.”

Steve gapes and sputters. Tony doesn’t care. He leans down and kisses Bucky, who sighs in happiness and kisses back. When the kiss goes past PG, Steve clears his throat, and Tony pulls back. “So, um, you and… and… Bucky.” He looks like he swallowed a lemon.

“Yep.” Tony challenges Steve to say something.

“Oh… I didn’t know…” He just mutters.

Bucky whines and pulls Tony back to him, seemingly oblivious of everyone else in the room. Tony sits on the bed next to him, and Bucky nuzzles into Tony’s hip. He falls back asleep very quickly. Steve sits in the room with them for a few minutes, then excuses himself.

“Call me if he wakes,” Bruce whispers and heads out, too.

Tony pulls out his phone and plays a game that he programmed for a little while. He soon gets drowsy and leans back against the headboard and falls asleep. Having been moved down to lie beside his lover, he wakes up a few hours later to see Bucky’s face inches from his. “Hi,” he whispers.

Bucky is more lucid now, and he asks, “Did we just out ourselves to Steve?”

“I think so. Is that ok?” Tony’s eyes search Bucky’s face for any sign of anger.

“I don’t care. I just wanted to make sure you’re not mad at me.” Bucky squeezes his hand. “I was the one who said something first.”

“You should have seen Steve’s face.” Tony laughs. He recounts how Steve reacted to Bucky, who laughs loudly, then clutches his chest. “Note to self, don’t make Bucky laugh until he heals.”

Tony stays with Bucky until he heals. Steve comes to see him after Bucky is released and Tony is back in his lab. Bucky is under his table, blowing him. Tony steels himself, waiting to be reprimanded. Steve clears his throat and says, “So, Natasha told me that your mask broke.”

“Yeah. It snapped on a rock, but I fixed it. It shouldn’t break anymore.” Tony holds up the mask. Bucky changes his technique and Tony lurches. “Sorry that it wasn’t in the begi-”

Steve cuts him off. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been treating you wrongly, and it | was not fair of me to treat you so. You are a big help to this team, and I’ve treated you like I would someone who slacks off at every turn. Unfortunately, I believe I’ve been influenced by Howard, but I plan to change that. Can you forgive me?”

“Sure…?” Tony is dumbstruck. Never in a thousand years did Tony expect Steve to apologize. It’s also hard for Tony to concentrate when Bucky’s doing that to him. “It’s alright Cap. No harm done.” Tony bites his lip to keep from moaning.

“No, it’s not. And I am going to change. You're cleared for missions, too. Thank you, Tony.” He makes to leave, then turns back. No Steve, just go. I can’t hold it in any longer. “And Tony? You are good for Bucky. I’m happy for you both.”

Tony gapes. Steve said what? “Did you hear that?” He asks. “Did he say what I… ughhhh… thought he said, or am I oh fuck Bucky just hnng dreaming?”

Bucky just swallows him to the root, and Tony spills over the edge. Bucky swallows every last drop, tucks him back in, and says, “I definitely heard it, babe.”

Tony lets him come out from under the desk, then pushes him into the chair. “My turn.” He locks the lab door and prepares to give Bucky the best head he’s given yet. The future might look bleak, but Tony and Bucky are just enjoying the moment.

#winteriron #post apocalypse au #nsfk #smut under the cut #buckybarnesbingo2020 #secret relationship #au_gust_2020 #i write!

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ernmark · 5 years ago

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heyo!!! m sorry to bother, and I understand if it would be too much work, but would u mind recapping what happened between Juno and Peter? I have pretty bad memory problems and no time to listen to it all again like i wanna, so i’m just sad for boys but also confused lmao

It’s not a bother at all!

(Actually, it’s a whole lot easier for me to write a post like this than to do original writing, so I’m especially happy to do it).

If you have any questions or need any clarification, just let me know and I’d be happy to elaborate!

So a super quick review of Juno and Peter’s history together:

Juno Steel and the Murderous Mask:

Peter was hired by a deranged Xenoanthropologist-turned-Martian-Furry named Miasma to steal an Ancient Martian death mask from a local mob/reality TV family, the Kanagawas. When his first attempt was thwarted by a murder, he returned to the scene of the crime disguised as Agent Rex Glass of Dark Matters (the Solar System’s super shady FBI organization), but the Kanagawas would only let him near the crime scene if he was accompanied by Juno.

Lots and lots of flirtation was had. They were trapped in a closet together, Peter punched Juno down a hallway at Juno’s request, they fought off a bunch of genetically engineered monsters together, Juno took a pretty nasty hit for Peter, and Peter tenderly stitched him up while making a teasing remark about “playing doctor”. During all of this, Juno quietly deduced the truth about the real murderer, and about Peter’s role as the original thief of the mask. In the big parlor scene at the end, they worked together to subdue the murderer.

Peter then persuaded Juno to take him back to his apartment, probably fully intending to bed him and then sneak out with the mask during the night. He pulled Juno into a kiss, sneaking the keys to Juno’s safe (where the mask was kept) out of his coat while Juno was distracted. Unfortunately for him, Juno wasn’t distracted. He’d figured out Peter’s game a while ago, and used Peter’s distraction to get him into handcuffs and call the cops.

Peter wasn’t fazed by any of this (more turned on, really), and so he offered to run away with Juno, so the two of them could go adventuring together. Juno refused and let the cops take him away. When he was gone, he found a note left behind, in which Peter assured him that he really did want them to run away together, and signed it “your better half, Peter Nureyev”. He then made his escape.

Juno Steel and the Midnight Fox:

This is the latest of several episodes in which Peter has been stealing artifacts for Miasma and Juno has been hunting the two of them down, over the course of which Juno swallowed a Martian pill that gave him very costly mind-reading powers.

After all his leads dried up, Juno went to a local art smuggler, Valles Vicky, and did a case for her in exchange for help from one of her contacts. At the end of the case she called the contact, and it turned out to be Peter. Peter made his entrance by breaking into Juno’s apartment and waiting for him to turn on the light before he announced himself, because he’s dramatic like that, and then dragged Juno off on another adventure.

His first words to Juno since Murderous Mask: “Hello, Juno. It’s been a while.”

Juno Steel and the Train from Nowhere:

They drove directly from Juno’s apartment to the Oasis Casino in the middle of the desert, where Peter had an appointment to play a high-stakes game of Ragnian Street Poker with retired hack jewel thief Brock Engstrom. In order to get Juno in the room with Engstrom and his bodyguard, Nuryev introduced the two of them as Duke and Dahlia Rose, a husband-and-husband duo of bright-eyed jewel thieves from the Outer Rim. He even bought Juno a lovely suit as part of the disguise, which Juno took particular offense to.

Peter and Engstrom gambled secrets, with the stakes being that Juno would be killed if Peter lied about any of the secrets he revealed. Juno took offense to that, too, but Peter insisted that he would give up all his own secrets and weaknesses before he let that happen.

After some further surliness and poor communication skills between the two of them, Juno figured out that Engstrom was cheating, and together they were able to force Engstrom to reveal the secret of the Utgard Express high-speed vault.

Things were going great and they were heading back to their shared hotel room with a questionable number of beds, but Juno had to be Juno and he accused Peter of taking secret orders to murder him. Peter pointed out that the “secret orders” were in fact very bad doodles, and that Juno was being a jackass, and he went to bed.

That night, an assassin tried to murder them, so the two of them had to make a break for it, and they wound up stealing Engstrom’s car, the Ruby 7 (previously owned by Jet Siquiliak of the Pirate Crew). They made it onto the Utgard Express, but were caught by Brock Engstrom and his bodyguard in the process. More adventures were had, more flirting happened, and Engstrom’s bodyguard made Juno especially nervous about his feelings for Peter. So as soon as the two of them were defeated and our heroes stole what they needed to get, Juno lashed out and tried to distance himself again.

Just as they were making their escape, they found themselves cornered by Miasma, who had hijacked the Ruby 7 for herself. She ordered Juno into the car at gunpoint, and then intended to murder Peter and leave him in the desert to rot. Using his very painful mind-reading powers, Juno realized that she needed him alive, so he threatened to kill himself if she harmed Peter. Miasma agreed to let Peter live, but to bring him with them as leverage over Juno.

Peter Nureyev and the Angel of Brahma:

Miasma took Juno and Peter to an Ancient Martian tomb deep underground, where she’d set up a lab and bunker. There she proceeded to force Juno to probe Peter’s mind for multiple tests of his (very, very painful) mind reading powers. Peter often insisted that Juno take time to rest, but Miasma tortured Peter during these lulls in order to motivate Juno to continue. Typically Juno worked himself until he lost consciousness, and then they’d be dragged back to their cell.

This continued for somewhere between days and weeks.

When Miasma got dissatisfied with Juno’s progress, she forced him to go into Peter’s memories, where he witnessed Peter murdering Mag. This seriously freaked him out, but Miasma insisted that he continue or else she would start cutting off bits of Peter for motivation. Juno relented, and kept watching until he passed out.

When Juno woke up, he was messed up by what he’d seen, but wasn’t ready to talk about it. Peter asked him why he’d never bothered to look into his backstory before, and Juno admitted that he was afraid of what he’d find. Peter insisted that he look into Peter’s memories now and see it for himself, and he could make his decisions about Peter then– whether Peter was worth his time, or whether they would part forever after all this was over. Juno nervously agreed, and he looked back into Peter’s mind on his own terms (while holding hands with Peter. I feel this is important.)

He witnessed the events on Brahma, where teenage Peter and his adopted father Mag attempted to stop the tyrannical leaders on New Kinshasa from murdering petty criminals with their flying laser city of death. They infiltrated New Kinshasa as Mag and Peter Ransom and made their way to the reactor core of the city, and got as far as stealing it… only in the process, Peter learned that disabling the city’s lasers would also wind up killing everyone in the city, and mass murder was really not something he was okay with. During the argument, Mag revealed that he’d been lying about all the things he’d said to motivate Peter– he’d say whatever was necessary to win Peter over to his cause. Peter was horrified and demanded Mag give back the reactor core. When Mag refused, Peter murdered him and replaced the reactor core, saving the people of New Kinshasa. He was caught in the act and identified as Peter Nureyev, and he used his capture to essentially hold the entire city hostage, threatening to bring it down if they continued their reign of terror. He then made his escape, but his true name was forever linked to the ransom of New Kinshasa.

During all of this, Juno went too deep and was having some major health complications, and Peter panicked and called the guards for help. After they assured him that Juno was okay, he knocked them out (killed them?) and attempted to drag Juno out, but Juno was too heavy to carry and in too much pain to leave under his own power. Peter made his own escape, swearing to return for Juno.

Juno Steel and the Final Resting Place

Miasma got what she needed from Juno, and she decided to finally execute him. At the last second, Peter (disguised as one of Miasma’s minions), shot her and the other minion and rescued Juno in a very heroic fashion.

Together they ventured deeper into the tomb in order to find one of Miasma’s artifacts, the bomb that wiped out the Ancient Martians, so that they could destroy it. Once they got inside, though, they found Miasma there, mysteriously still alive. Turns out she’d spliced herself with Ancient Martian DNA, and was now effectively immortal and a whole lot more eldritch.

They fought her, all the while figuring out her plan: she was going to hide in the bunker alone and use the bomb to wipe out all other life on Mars, because she’s charming like that.

The bomb’s countdown was triggered, and Juno dove into Miasma’s memories in order to find out how to deactivate it. He pushed himself too hard, though, and his mind-reading powers destroyed his right eye in the process. He did, however, come up with a plan. He pushed Peter out the airlock and locked himself and Miasma inside with the bomb, keeping her away from it so she couldn’t escape or get rid of the bomb. While Peter desperately begged Juno to open the door, Juno admitted that Peter was the best thing that ever happened to him, and that his one regret was not taking Peter up on his offer to run away together.

The bomb went off, and Miasma was killed. Juno, however, wasn’t: the bomb was only meant to kill Ancient Martians, as a form of mass suicide for their hive mind species, and had no effect on humans. Juno, who was more than suicidal at this point and wanted nothing more than to go out with a big heroic blaze of glory, was in shock that his last hurrah was taken from him. And also in shock about literally everything else that had happened to him in the past week.

Peter kissed him, took him back to a clinic (unfortunately, they couldn’t save Juno’s eye), and then back to a hotel in Hyperion City. He acknowledged that Juno had said what he had in the heat of the moment, and he didn’t have to go with Peter if he didn’t want to. Juno assured him that he did want to (oddly specific wording on his part). Overjoyed, Peter took Juno to bed, and a sexy time was had by all.

Afterward, Juno stayed up to watch Peter sleep, then rolled out of bed, put his clothes on, and walked back into his office. On his way out, he heard Peter murmur his name in his sleep, content that he and Juno would embark on their grand adventure in the morning.

#the penumbra podcast #a quick and somewhat messy recap of season 1's romantic plot points #nootiemytootie #100

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female-overlord-3 · 5 years ago

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Bring Them Home Ch 3

All of my heart one last time <- ao3 link

Prev - Next

Kyle and Alex all but collapse once they make their way inside the cabin and to the couch. Michael hesitantly follows and looks around, finally seeing where Alex has been staying since his return.

“Mi-Gueirn could you get me my laptop? In the kitchen, second shelf next to the fridge underneath a wooden panel in the left wall.”

Michael does as he asks, laptop in hand and out of the kitchen until he pauses at the hallway to Alex’s room, a familiar feeling tugging at him like a sirens call he can’t resist.

Alex watches with exhaustion clouding his mind, only realizing once Michael disappears from view what he might find in there.

“Shit.” He curses and scrambles to get to his room, limping slightly as his overexertion from earlier has finally caught up.

Leaning heavily against the door frame Alex watches as Michael reaches towards his pillow, standing with his back to Alex and fingers brushing the fabric pillow case but pause when Alex pleading voice rings through the air. “Michael wait.”

He does but doesn’t look away from the pillow or what he knows is underneath it.

“Let me- I need to sit and I’ll explain but just- please wait.” Alex continues to plead, the desperation and exhaustion nearly drowning the words.

Michael closes his eyes shut before taking a deep breath and moving his hand away. He waits for Alex to settle at the foot of the bed and watches the process of him removing his prosthetic, letting his mind get distracted by the mechanics and how he’d improve it, make it better and easier to use. Then he removes his other shoe and shrugs off his jacket.

Alex does his best to ignore Michael’s eyes but glad the focus is on him instead of the piece of alien ship hidden under his pillow.

“You can sit.” He offers as he lets himself fall back and relax on his bed. “Get comfortable. Splurged and got memory foam.”

Remaining silent Michael does as Alex says. He passes the laptop over, nearly forgetting he had it, and shucks off his boots and denim jacket before sitting.

“How long.” Michael finally asks when Alex stays quiet.

“Before you showed me what it really was. Before I knew everything.” Alex places his laptop in the nook he added then lays back to stares up at the ceiling, letting the words finally tumble free, whether from exhaustion or his need to finally say what he wants, he’s not sure, it could be both.

“I found it here in the cabin in Jim Valenti’s own secret underground bunker, hidden in a wall in a room where he helped Rosa get clean and Kyle and I discovered that he was not having an affair with her but was actually her father. I found it and was going to give it to you when I found out you were an alien but then you showed me the other pieces and you talked about leaving. I panicked.”

It’s both freeing to get all of this said out loud but the guilt and fear continue to press at his chest like a growing weight. “When we had that night where you said you don’t look away, I was absolutely terrified you might actually leave when you joked about moving. That didn’t hold a candle to the realization that you might leave the freaking planet, find a way I wouldn’t be able to follow. It nearly gutted me so I decided to keep it until I felt ready to give it to you.”

Sighing Alex closes his eyes and says a painful admission. “I just don’t think I’d ever be ready to give it to you.”

He hears the choked sound Michael makes but keeps his eyes closed. Might as well say everything he can since he has the chance.

“I know it’s selfish and cruel because I’ve walked away so many times but I’ve always come back Michael, I always had you to come back to in this shit town. Sure there’s Liz and Maria but I don’t miss them the way I miss you. The longer I didn’t see you the more I worried you’d finally leave this place and make something better for yourself, that i’d come back and you’d be gone but if you stayed on earth I could still find you and maybe we could be something too. No military. No small minded asshole small town hive minds. Just us, somewhere different where we could just be.”

Alex feels hopeful even though the small simple dream he’s kept at the back of his head hurts to voice. He’s said what he wants, what he wants with Michael. It’s one of the only things he truly wants besides keeping Michael safe.

“If you still want to leave i’d understand. You can take the piece of your ship and go where you need to. I’ve had it long enough.” He clenches his mouth shut before ‘I’ve had you long enough’ can slip out. Alex has said too much already and of course he wants to keep fighting, for Michael and them and what’s right, but Michael’s so close and is the only person Alex can be weak with. He’s tired, utterly exhausted and drained. He can be Captain Manes after he gets at least an hour nap. Alex can make a plan and do what he needs, now that he’s said what he could since he doesn’t have any other idea of what he should be doing.

Protect Michael. Let Michael leave because it would be safer. Save his people. Save his mom. Protect them from his dad. The list continues until it starts to cycle back to the start like a never ending loop making his mind go a bit numb. It’s that and sleep. He should sleep.

A loud pop jolts Alex alert and awake until he sees the shower of feathers swirling around him, none actually falling onto him or Michael, the fluffy down all settling down onto floor. Then there are hands pulling him up to face Michael, Michael who looks as devastated as he did back at Caulfield. It takes a second before Alex realizes he’s being shaken.

“You said we were done Alex. You stayed away for nearly 2 months while Liz and I were trying to find a cure for my sister and when I try and talk to you, you say it’s over. Then I show you something I’ve never shown anyone else before and you say you need time to think but now you’re telling me it made you panic because you thought I’d leave?” Michael’s voice steadily grew in volume until he’s yelling the next part.

“You left. You said you wanted us to be friends then didn’t talk to me after. I get you needed time but Alex, all I saw was you leaving me again, that the whole alien thing became too much and you finally decided you didn’t want me.”

Alex hears the faint sounds of things rattling around him but he’s too focused on Michael’s every word.

“I would never leave Isobel or Max but in all honesty I wouldn’t leave you either. The idea of rebuilding that ship and having the option to leave was the only thing that kept me sane while having to stay here. I had to stay in the same place as you father who would always find some way to remind me about what I lost. Where we thought Isobel killed Rosa and those girls and I had to lie and live with guilt. In a town who only knows me for being the town drunk and who sleeps around. In the place I had to stay to protect my sister who thought I was the killer for the last decade and believed it.”

His voice is going quiet now as everything just spills from Michael’s mouth, his hands holding onto Alex’s shoulder his only support.

“I stayed because I knew you might come back and if I could see you again, know you didn’t die in some desert that wasn’t this one, that your excuse of a father didn’t finally get you killed. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted and who made me feel like I might have a place on this horrible rotten planet.”

Michael stares into Alex’s eyes, hazel burning into brown with the shift of every emotion that flashes through them and he keeps going like he can’t get it out fast enough.

“But then we found others! Alex I thought we were the only ones that survived the crash. I found my mom and she loves me.” He’s sobbing now at the realization finally sinking in. “My whole life I’ve been hoping, waiting as I stare up at the sky for someone to come bring me back because no one really wants me here. Iz and Max have lives here. They got to grow up loved and with good people that I’m forever grateful for but I didn’t and sometimes it hurts. You were the one who made me realize there was a different kind of love Alex, one that could be just mine and I think if your dad wasn’t such a piece of shit and the world could just learn to love, if we had our chance to just be… we’d finally know what cosmic really means.”

“Michael.” All Alex can do is say his name as his brain tries to figure out what to say while also finding some way to provide comfort, arms already moving to pull Michael in and hold him like he did during the drive here but Michael just shakes his head with a pained laugh.

“God and you keep saying my name like that. I don’t even remember the last time you said my actual name to me but you keep saying it like it means so much more and I don’t understand. You want me? As a friend? More? Not at all? Why can’t we just love each other like we wanted to before everything fell apart? Why is it so hard when loving you is so easy! Do you need me to say it because I will Alex, if saying those words will make you stay I’ll never stop because it’s all I want to say when I look at you or even think about you. Do you think I don’t? Just tell me what I have to do because I’m so tired of not knowing.”

He pleads.

Alex wishes he knew the answer because it would make all of this so much easier but Michael’s not the only one tired of not knowing.

“I want to say its because I’ve been trying to protect you this whole time and staying away meant my father did too but that turned out to be a fucking lie.”

That reminder sparks anger that Alex doesn’t try to smother, that he instead uses to get the words he wants to out.

“No it’s because I’m broken and a mess who still can’t fight the hold his abusive father has on him. I don’t know either Michael and it’s ripping me apart. I want you, never stopped wanting you this whole time but I’ve never gotten to get what I want. Maybe with my dad gone and all this extra stuff that always gets in the way, we could finally get what we want but that’s not how life works.”

He lets his head fall and his forehead lands against Michael’s shoulder. He’s too tired to hold it up nor has the strength to say this to Michael’s face.

“I know you love me, it’s almost like something I can feel! But I’m not good with words Michael or feelings. This is the most I’ve spoken about everything I feel since we last talked. I don’t talk. I save it for later because there’s so much I need to do and I’ve always had to do it. You’re the only one I’ve ever been able to be weak with but even then I still have to fight for it.”

Alex pulls away and it’s almost chilling to lose Michael’s heat but he really needs to lay down and thankfully Michael follows. They lay next to each other and stare at the ceiling while Alex continues.

“I think sometimes it scares me how much we love each other. Every time you give me your heart I’m terrified okay. That I’m going to ruin it. That I won’t be able to handle all that love. That I’m just desperate to feel loved and you’ll change your mind once you see how ruined I already am.”

“If you’re ruined well so am I.”

Alex doesn’t know if Michael’s trying to comfort him or remind him.

“Because of me.” He chokes out and closes his eyes as he sees that horrible moment over and over.

“Fuck we need therapy. Not because of you Alex. How could you- wait of course you would. I guess this is what happens when we only talk about it once huh?”

Michael shifts and hovers over Alex so that he’s nearly straddling him but there’s just enough space so they’re not touching. Alex keeps his eyes closed.

“I’m going to remind you that what happened that day was not your fault. Alex that was probably the happiest and best day of my life that just happened to end so horribly. I got to finally touch you after wanting to for so long.”

Alex stays quiet but Michael can see how tense he his, meaning he isn’t asleep.

“Alex. Did you pick up that hammer and smash my hand?”

Alex’s eyes snap open at that.

“No but it’s because of-”

“Jesse Manes. It’s because of him. He did this to me and he sent you away. He can try and blame you for it all he likes but I know it’s his fault and his hate that did it.”

The stubborn glare Alex is giving him would be hilarious if the tears Michael sees didn’t hurt.

“Have you ever wanted to hurt me?” Michael questions then steamrolled on before Alex can answer. “No because you just told me you’ve been trying to protect me since that day. You’ve always been trying to protect me and it kinda pisses me off, now that I think about it, because by protecting me you’ve had to stay away when all i’ve ever wanted was for you to stay.”

Taking a breath Michael once again gives Alex his heart.

“So I’m staying and you better too. I won’t be level headed about freeing my mom and the others so i’m gonna need you Alex.”

Alex’s arms come around him and pulls him down.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

Michael waits til Alex is finally asleep before gently pulling away so he can remove his belt buckle and move to the free space next to Alex. He just lays there letting everything they said sink in and enjoys the chaos go quiet when he focuses on Alex’s quiet breathing. He’s out before he knows it.

#malex #malex fic #malex fix-it fic #we get all the talking #cause COMMUNICATION IS IMPORTANT #This is the start of the beginning #of when Malex finally begin #LIKE THEY DESERVE DAMMIT #AU- Canon Diverge #Alex Manes #michael guerin #kyle valenti #BTH

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forever-more-never-again · 5 years ago

Text

Level Nine (A Request)

Requested: @rororo06

Word Count: 1471

Pairing: Reader X Bucky

Warnings: Violence, Torture mentioned

Request: Can you do a bucky x reader where the reader is a really well known high clearance agent.

Masterlist

Your breath came in soft pants as you crouched behind a boulder. The constant ringing and echoes of bullets ricocheting around you.

“[Y/n]! It was a setup! Get out of there!” Agent Maria shouted in your ear.

You gritted your teeth and tighten your hold on your pistol, a simple intel retrieval mission now a matter of life and death.

But they didn’t call you the Shadow Viper for nothing.

“I’ve got this Maria. Have one of the others set off a blast at forty five degrees west and get them out of here.”

Maria knew better than to continue to fight you on your decision to see the mission through.

Taking a calming breath, you watched a cloud of dust bloom in the distance followed by a resounding boom.

Shouts in German and then you saw the moment you wanted. A clear shot into the underground bunker as the Hydra soldiers ran to the explosion.

Keeping low to the ground and the shadows, you ran towards the open tunnel.

Pistol held to your waist, you slunk around the dark corners, the smell of dust and mold filling your senses as your eyes tracked any hint of movement.

After a few minutes, you reached the control center. You internally smirked at the single lone guard sitting in front of a few monitors.

It was child’s play to sneak up behind him and pistol whip him unconscious.

Pushing the limp body out of the chair, you slid in and began typing and scrolling through the monitors, trying to find what you needed before the soldiers came back from the diversion.

“Where are you?” You muttered under your breath. Eyes stopping and fingers shaking when you stopped on the image you wanted.

A sterile white room. Nothing inside of it. Except for two things. A cryo chamber and an electrocution chair.

“So they do have a plan.” Your heart began pounding, blood pumping in your ears.

Images of Bucky strapped to the chair, screaming out for someone to save him. Ice encasing his face, freezing him for ages. It washed over you in rage.

Standing abruptly, keeping in mind the room number, you ran.

A haze settled over your vision. And that was dangerous for anyone that crossed your path.

No hesitation was in your movements as you headshot the soldiers in your way. Feet pounding on the cement.

And then you were at the door.

Reaching into one of your pouches on your suit, you withdrew a grenade.

Pulling the pin, you threw it into the room and sprinted.

Outside, the biting German wind was howling more than before.

Soldiers shouted as they saw your shadow, bullets coming so close, you could feel the slight breeze and almost taste the gunpowder as they sailed over and behind you.

And then the bunker let out a rumble and began to fold within itself as it lost its stability and integrity.

Tapping your communication in your ear, you reported, “Maria. I need immediate evacuation. Have the Jet meet me in Five right where the drop site was.”

Maria sighed, and you could imagine the tired, yet pleased expression that was probably on her face, “Got that Shadow Viper.” There was a moment of hesitation, and then in a softer tone, Maria continued, “And [Y/n]...James found out about the mission. You’re going to want to talk to him when you get back to the tower.”

You cursed under your breath.

Your relationship with Bucky, the previously known Hydra asset The Winter Soldier, was a highly controversial and secret topic within Shield and the Avengers. Being a level Nine Clearance Shield Agent was already tricky enough since the only other known was Maria Hill.

Being in a relationship with the Winter Soldier had some of the field agents and directors questioning your trust and ability to put a mission first.

The ride back to the Avenger tower was silent as you replayed the mission and how Bucky would take the information.

You hadn’t wanted him to find out that you had been sent on an intel mission to find out if the information that Shield had received, that Hydra was gathering resources and the old machinery, to capture him back and restart the project Winter Soldier.

Even though it had been a couple years since Bucky had broken free from their conditioning and the genius teenager in Wakanda removed the trigger words, You knew, from late night pillow talks, that Bucky still held immense amounts of guilt and fear that he would return back to the mindless killing machine that Hydra had created him to be.

Walking into one of the meeting rooms on the top levels of the tower, an intern left to gather Maria and let her know you returned.

“[Y/n]....”

Taking a calming breath, you turned from the windows that you had been staring out of, to stare into the eyes of liquid honey.

Bucky stood in the doorway. His body tense. His mouth set in a frown and his metal arm fidgeting as if he wanted to hide it.

All the signs that he was agitated and upset.

Walking up to him, you kept a few feet between you. Silence filled the room. Thick and oppressive.

With a sigh, you decided to be the first to break it, “Listen Bucky-”

He cut you off. Now that the silence had been broken, it was like a switch turned on his voice, filled with hints of distrust and anger, his golden eyes flashed down at you, “What were you thinking [Y/n]!? And hiding it from me? I had to find out when an agent joked about my girlfriend following in my footsteps!”

You scowled at that, you made a mental note to get that agent’s name and get him blacklisted from Shield.

Wiping that thought aside, you looked at Bucky and kept your voice calm, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to find out. You’d blame yourself or think the worst and worry. But see!” You raised your arms to your side and did a quick twirl, “I’m fine! I’m not a level nine clearance agent for nothing you know!” You huffed, crossing your arms.

Just because you were a woman. You and Maria both had to deal with prejudice.

Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes, “I don’t think your weak or anything. Jesus, [Y/n], you should know me better than that by now!”

You breathed in deeply through your nose and close your eyes for a moment, “Your right. I’m sorry James.”

You shivered when metal touches your arm.

Looking over, you saw Bucky’s metal arm resting on your arm. Raising your eyes to his, you saw the worry that had been buried under anger and irritation.

In one movement, you were huddled within his arms.

His heart thundered in his chest as his voice grew low and gravely, his emotions leaking out, “I was so scared that they would capture you. That I wouldn’t even know because I didn’t know you were on a mission. Even though I know you're capable and skilled. Hydra...if they really want to restart the Winter Soldier program, then they are dangerous and if they had you...if they had hurt you…”

His words trailed off, as he drew in a shuddering breath.

You cupped his cheek in your hand, drawing his gaze back to yours, “James...Bucky...I’m safe. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to let Hydra get their hands on you either. I won’t keep secrets from you anymore. I love you.”

Bucky’s golden eyes searched yours and found whatever he was looking for, because he leaned down and captured your lips with his.

Rough and rushed, the heady scent of wood and oil filled you as your hands snaked up to tangle within his brown locks.

His hands slid down your back and pulled you closer to him, making you gasp out.

He took advantage of your open mouth and began to map the inside with his tongue.

A dramatic cough drew the two of you apart. Flushed and embarrassed to be caught like horny teenagers, you saw Maria smirking behind Bucky.

“Are you done?” She asked, mirth in her tone.

Scowling at her for a moment, you turned your attention back to Bucky and smiled softly at him.

Grabbing his normal hand, you whispered, “I’ll see you tonight?”

He smiled back and squeezed your hand, “Absolutely Doll. And I love you too.”

And with that he walked out of the room, nodding politely to Maria on his way out.

Maria raised an eyebrow at you, smirking still, “So...Will there be makeup sex?”

Your hand rose up and smacked her chest as you laughed, “Oh my god! Maria!”

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @queenbbarnes @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @princess-evans-addict

Bucky Taglist:

@evyiione

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc @marvel-is-a-mood

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes #james barnes x reader #avengers tower #the winter soldier #captain america the winter soldier #reader insert #imagine #imagines request #tag list #please give credit #please give feedback #rose writes

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gadgetgirl71 · 4 years ago

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Amazon First Reads for June 2020

I know I say this every single month, but I can’t get over how quickly the last month has gone. Meaning that for Amazon Prime Members we get to choose which Amazon First Read were going to download for free. Again this month as most months there are eight books to choose from.

This months choices are:

Suspense

The Bone Jar by S W Kane, Pages: 328, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: Two murders. An abandoned asylum. Will a mysterious former patient help untangle the dark truth?

The body of an elderly woman has been found in the bowels of a derelict asylum on the banks of the Thames. As Detective Lew Kirby and his partner begin their investigation, another body is discovered in the river nearby. How are the two murders connected?

Before long, the secrets of Blackwater Asylum begin to reveal themselves. There are rumours about underground bunkers and secret rooms, unspeakable psychological experimentation, and a dark force that haunts the ruins, trying to pull back in all those who attempt to escape. Urban explorer Connie Darke, whose sister died in a freak accident at the asylum, is determined to help Lew expose its grisly past. Meanwhile Lew discovers a devastating family secret that threatens to turn his life upside down.

As his world crumbles around him, Lew must put the pieces of the puzzle together to keep the killer from striking again. Only an eccentric former patient really knows the truth—but will he reveal it to Lew before it’s too late?

Contemporary Fiction

Someone Else’s Secret by Julia Spiro, Pages: 363, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: Here’s the thing about secrets: they change shape over time, become blurry with memory, until the truth is nearly lost.

2009. Lindsey and Georgie have high hopes for their summer on Martha’s Vineyard. In the wake of the recession, ambitious college graduate Lindsey accepts a job as a nanny for an influential family who may help her land a position in Boston’s exclusive art world. Georgie, the eldest child in that family, is nearly fifteen and eager to find herself, dreaming of independence and yearning for first love.

Over the course of that formative summer, the two young women develop a close bond. Then, one night by the lighthouse, a shocking act occurs that ensnares them both in the throes of a terrible secret. Their budding friendship is shattered, and neither one can speak of what happened that night for ten long years.

Until now. Lindsey and Georgie must confront the past after all this time. Their quest for justice will require costly sacrifices, but it also might give them the closure they need to move on. All they know for sure is that when the truth is revealed, their lives will be forever changed once again.

From a fresh voice in fiction, this poignant and timely novel explores the strength and nuance of female friendship, the cost of ambition, and the courage it takes to speak the truth.

Mystery

Never Look Back by Mary Burton, Pages: 332, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: Expect the unexpected in this gritty, tense, and page-turning mystery from New York Times bestselling author Mary Burton.

After multiple women go missing, Agent Melina Shepard of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation makes the impulsive decision to go undercover as a prostitute. While working the street, she narrowly avoids becoming a serial killer’s latest victim; as much as it pains her to admit, she needs backup.

Enter lone wolf FBI agent Jerrod Ramsey. Stonewalled by a lack of leads, he and Melina investigate a scene where a little girl has been found abandoned in a crashed vehicle. They open the trunk to reveal a horror show and quickly realise they’re dealing with two serial killers with very different MOs. The whole situation brings back memories for Melina—why does this particular case feel so connected to her painful past?

Before time runs out, Melina must catch not one but two serial killers, both ready to claim another victim—and both with their sights set on her.

Thriller

Find Me by Anne Frasier, Pages: 286, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: A bone-chilling family history is unearthed in a heart-stopping thriller by New York Times bestselling author Anne Frasier.

Convicted serial killer Benjamin Fisher has finally offered to lead San Bernardino detective Daniel Ellis to the isolated graves of his victims. One catch: he’ll only do it if FBI profiler Reni Fisher, his estranged daughter, accompanies them. As hard as it is to exhume her traumatic childhood, Reni can’t say no. She still feels complicit in her father’s crimes.

Perfect to play a lost little girl, Reni was the bait to lure unsuspecting women to their deaths. It’s time for closure. For her. For the families. And for Daniel. He shares Reni’s obsession with the past. Ever since he was a boy, he’s been convinced that his mother was one of Fisher’s victims.

Thirty years of bad memories are flooding back. A master manipulator has gained their trust. For Reni and Daniel, this isn’t the end of a nightmare. It’s only the beginning.

Book Club Fiction

The Lending Library by Aliza Fogelson, Pages: 295, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: For fans of Jane Green and Loretta Nyhan, a heartwarming debut novel about a daydreamer who gives her town, and herself, an amazing gift: a lending library in her sun-room.

When the Chatsworth library closes indefinitely, Dodie Fairisle loses her sanctuary. How is a small-town art teacher supposed to cope without the never-ending life advice and enjoyment that books give her? Well, when she’s as resourceful and generous as Dodie, she turns her sun-room into her very own little lending library.

At first just a hobby, this lit lovers’ haven opens up her world in incredible ways. She knows books are powerful, and soon enough they help her forge friendships between her zany neighbours—and attract an exciting new romance.

But when the chance to adopt an orphaned child brings Dodie’s secret dream of motherhood within reach, everything else suddenly seems less important. Finding herself at a crossroads, Dodie must figure out what it means to live a full, happy life. If only there were a book that could tell her what to do…

Historical Fiction

Opium and Absinthe by Lydia Kang, Pages: 379, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: From the bestselling author of A Beautiful Poison comes another spellbinding historical novel full of intrigue, occult mystery, and unexpected twists.

New York City, 1899. Tillie Pembroke’s sister lies dead, her body drained of blood and with two puncture wounds on her neck. Bram Stoker’s new novel, Dracula, has just been published, and Tillie’s imagination leaps to the impossible: the murderer is a vampire. But it can’t be—can it?

A ravenous reader and researcher, Tillie has something of an addiction to truth, and she won’t rest until she unravels the mystery of her sister’s death. Unfortunately, Tillie’s addicted to more than just truth; to ease the pain from a recent injury, she’s taking more and more laudanum…and some in her immediate circle are happy to keep her well supplied.

Tillie can’t bring herself to believe vampires exist. But with the hysteria surrounding her sister’s death, the continued vampiric slayings, and the opium swirling through her body, it’s becoming increasingly difficult for a girl who relies on facts and figures to know what’s real—or whether she can trust those closest to her.

Epic Fantasy

Scarlet Odyssey by C T Rwizi, Pages: 534, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: Magic is women’s work; war is men’s. But in the coming battle, none of that will matter.

Men do not become mystics. They become warriors. But eighteen-year-old Salo has never been good at conforming to his tribe’s expectations. For as long as he can remember, he has loved books and magic in a culture where such things are considered unmanly. Despite it being sacrilege, Salo has worked on a magical device in secret that will awaken his latent magical powers. And when his village is attacked by a cruel enchantress, Salo knows that it is time to take action.

Salo’s queen is surprisingly accepting of his desire to be a mystic, but she will not allow him to stay in the tribe. Instead, she sends Salo on a quest. The quest will take him thousands of miles north to the Jungle City, the political heart of the continent. There he must gather information on a growing threat to his tribe.

On the way to the city, he is joined by three fellow outcasts: a shunned female warrior, a mysterious nomad, and a deadly assassin. But they’re being hunted by the same enchantress who attacked Salo’s village. She may hold the key to Salo’s awakening—and his redemption.

Children’s Picture Book

Kat and Juju by Kataneh Vahdani, Pages: 40, Publication Date: 1 July 2020

Synopsis: An unlikely duo star in a charming story about being different, finding courage, and the importance of friendship in the first book in a new series from an award-winning animation director.

Kat likes doing things her very own way, but sometimes she doubts herself. So when a bird named Juju arrives, Kat hopes he’ll be the best friend she’s always wanted. He’s outgoing and silly and doesn’t worry about what others think—the opposite of who she is. Bit by bit, with Juju’s help, Kat discovers her strength, and how to have a friend and be one—while still being true to herself.

*** Which book will you choose? I chose “Opium and Absinthe” as soon as I saw the cover I knew that was this book I had to choose. Let me know which book you choose. ***

#amazonfirstreads #amazonkindle #amazonprimemembers #bookclubfiction #books #childrenspicturebooks #contemporary fiction #epicfantasy #goodreads #HistoricalFiction #Kindle #Kindlebooks #mystery #suspense #thriller

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