#but you WILL find out what fitz's eyes look like in the sunlight.
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stellar-jay · 6 months ago
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also I fucking. ok. while I'm here I gotta mention Amber's being wistful. bc. my god
I was HOPING this whole time for amber to say some shit where altheas like "have you ever loved anyone amber?" and amber like. smiles wistfully and is like. "once.... but thats all behind me now...."
but I was WAITING for what I thought was most likely which is amber just like. telling althea some shit like. "oh Althea, youre so strong willed. you... remind me of someone, sometimes... no matter..." or just some like "I had a friend once who liked cheap brandy best," or some other vague little thing and I was like man that'll be enough I'll be happy. I'll go nuts
I was ALSO really wanting althea to go get boy advice from amber bc it'd be very very funny.
and I was ALSO wondering hey wait. didn't fitz leave the fool with his earring?? yeah that was a pretty significant thing that happened. and the fools not wearing it, prolly cause it's very identifiable. oh what if it's in his dragon earring? that'd make sense. that'd be crazy actually.
NOTHING COULDVE PREPARED ME
FOR THE WAY AMBER FINALLY BRINGS UP FITZ
to be Althea going "idk amber is love real or am I doomed to give up my dreams for someone else" and amber going "well... sometimes people are in love and have the same goal and it works out"
and Althea being like "idk is that even POSSIBLE"
and amber going "well... yes... but it costs a lot. bc you have to accept that he has a life too and it might lead him to a different direction. and like... maybe he has needs you can't fill and maybe you have to leave him for a while and it's painful and you miss him everyday and it costs loneliness and longing and doubt and"
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LIKE. MY GOD. INSANE
NOTHING COULDVE PREPARED ME
I got my talking abt boys and I got my amber mentioning fitz and he TOUCHES THE EARRING SO FUCK FITZ'S EARRING IS IN THERE AND THE FOOLS BEEN WEARING IT THIS WHOLE TIME BC OF COURSE HE IS I MEAN FUCK OF COURSE HE IS
and the way it gets brought up is them talking abt boys and Althea going "idk love isn't real" and the fool going "well actually love is very real but its hard bc like with that kind of love you have to respect his life and that like you cant be a part of it and idk sometimes like he's only into women and wants to be free and roam the woods with his wolf and that's a life u can't give to him and like hypothetically you have to leave him for a long time and he thinks you're gone forever but you have to do this and it's not up to you and he doesn't know that and like you miss him every day and every day you wonder if youre doing the right thing and every day you wish you could be falling asleep next to him and" AND THEN ALTHEA INTERRUPTS HER AND JUST DOESNT ASK FOLLOW UP QUESTIONS AND ITS FANTASTIC OH MY GOD
btw I love these new liveship guys but I do miss my boy fitz, and ofc I got excited whenever the six duchies were mentioned and whenever amber got wistful but honest to God the excitement I got from wintrow going "wow what a well illustrated herbal.... the plants colors are so accurate... whoever made this had a real talent for painting and herbs..." was unparalleled like HOLY SHIT FITZ'S HERBAL!!! YEAAAH THATS MY FUCKING BOY!!!
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checkingoutforheroes · 3 years ago
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B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.
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Part 2.
Avengers x fem!reader 
Pt.1
Words: 1892
Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?
Main Masterlist 
Maria and Fury bring you to The Avengers tower for mission briefing and meet the rest of the team. To be honest, you are beyond excited you see the building. You move from your seat to another, looking out of the window, facing the tower. Maria looks at you at the rear view mirror, seeing your awe face and smile. “If you open that window, I might’ve mistaken you with a dog.” You ignore her comment and ask them “Is this S.H.I.E.L.D? You guys work here? You build this place papa Bear? This is taller than I thought it would be!”
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Fury look at you and then Maria “Now she’s excited.” Maria answer your question. “That is Avengers tower. S.H.I.E.L.D no longer exist. Burn to the ground.” You didn’t keep up about them after left the agency so you don’t know what happened. “What happened? Did this moody papa Bear show his emotion through action?” You let out a small laugh until Fury annoyed “Once again you call my name other than Fury, I’ll burn you too.” “Nahh, you’re not going to burn me. You need me. Otherwise, I’m not in this car right now. I said to him and Maria drive through the parking basement. “She got you, boss.”
Fury walk ahead to their meeting room. You stop your track when you see an aquarium placed at the wall. You never see something like that before in your life. When Maria realize that you are not walking behind her, she turns back to get you. “What are you doing?” “Looking at these fish in an aquarium stuck on the wall. How they do that? How they going to feed the fish? Rich people shit, quite awesome.” You said and Maria just shake her head. “We have a world crisis and the first thing you did is watch the fish?! Are you kidding me? Let’s go meat the team.”
 Meanwhile Fury already told the team about a new protocol or whatever. You didn’t hear that clearly until you are inside the room. Fury talk to them. “Since all of you are here, including Maximoff, I have a new protocol that you can use.” Steve looking confusing at Fury. “We already made a plan.” Tony interrupt to teasing Steve “Yeah and a good ted talk by the captain too.” Natasha asking about the protocol. “Do we know about the protocol?” Fury take a seat “No, Romanoff. No one knows about this protocol except Agent Hill. This protocol was created to help the team when in need, and this team clearly need it right now.” Steve ask him. “What protocol is that?” Natasha looking at Clint and he shrug. “B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.” Tony just laugh while Steve have a serious face looking at him. “I’m sorry. That’s kinda funny name for a protocol.” Maria open the door and you both going in. All eyes on you and you feeling slightly nervous. How can you not, they are The Avengers! You recognize all of their face except one person wearing black dress and red cardigan.  
Fury introduce you to the team. “Right on time. Avengers, I introduce you B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL, as in Best Associate By Yours truly.” Maria added “Also, we call her Baby.” They are quiet and shock appear in their faces except two people. Natasha and Clint. They go greet you. “Baby!” Natasha walks to hug you while Tony look at you two weird. “Nat! Omg, I miss you. Clint! Miss you too!” You hug Clint and he hold your head. “Well, she grows up.” “Yeah, with some food and water, I did. Man, you’re old.” You said to him and Natasha smile “Kids growing, Barton.” “Natasha, beautiful as always. You have to drop your skin care routine, sis.” Tony interrupt the moment “You both knew her? Fury, you said no one know about this protocol.” Fury nods. “I said no one know about this protocol not that Romanoff and Barton didn’t know her.”
Steve starts asking question. “How old are you?” Tony interject again. “Yeah. You don’t look like a baby to me.”
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             You looking back at Steve, smirk on your face. “How old are you?” Maria sign you to behave. “Baby.” Tony sit down at one of the chair. “I like this kid already!” He earns a glare from Steve and you apologizing “I’m sorry. That’s not a good first impression. I’m 22.”
“What is your name?” Damn he is a serious one.
             “People call me Baby.”
“What people didn’t call you?”
             “If they didn’t call me? Silence, I guess.” You whisper at Natasha left ear “Can I not tell them my name?” She crooks a little smile. “It’s up to you.” “I prefer being call by that name that Maria & Fury has told you or anything you want except my real name due to personal reason.” You nod and smile at them.
“Why? Dark past? Major criminal? Wanted by CIA? Interpol? MI6? Ugly name? Kicked out of family or something?” Seriously, how can they work as a team with a guy name Tony Stark? Maria, Natasha and Clint have your back.
“She’s here to help us. Nothing else, Stark.” Maria said to him.
Natasha glare at him. “I suggest you stop right there or you’re not going to see any sunlight.”
Clint agree with them. “Leave her alone man.” Tony look guilty. “Everybody in this room has dark past. I’m just curious, not judging. She’s not alone.” Wanda tell them that he told the truth. “He’s not lying.” “Thank you Wendy. Peace?” You walking toward him “No heart feeling.” You guys fist bump each other.
Steve ask again. “How do you know Barton and Romanoff?”
             “While I was in S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, which I thought a Juvenile school at first, they trained me combat espionage. Since that’s the only thing on my expertise. I wish to have Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz brain though. They’re genius in bio-chem and engerneering.”
“Why you thought it was juvenile at first? You commit crime?”
             “Duh.” Both you and Tony said it at the same time and again “JINX!” Natasha look at Steve. “Relax captain, all of us commit crime back then.” “I didn’t” Tony look at him. “Are you sure about that?” “What do you mean Stark?” Steve ask and he say “You literally cheated your medical checkup to join the army.” “I did it to protect our country.” Steve said and Clint chuckle “Still crime.” Fury tell Maria to handle the briefing and he’s out. You ask where is he going? “Where is he going?” “He have another thing to do Baby.”
             “I know most of you but I don’t think I know or seen you, Mr. ?” You ask and Natasha introduce him. “That is Dr. Bruce Banner.”
             You shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. What did you do?”
Bruce seems like to hesitate to answer that. “You didn’t know? New York?”
             “Alien? Chitauri?” You ask him back innocently.
“Um. I’m, the big green guy.” He anxiously answers that.
             “An ogre! Wow, that is so cool!” Clint hold my shoulder. “The other green, buddy.” “Oh, I know. I’m sorry, I forgot your ogre name is Shrek. Still cool though. I watch all of his movies when I was a kid. Maybe we can watch it again sometimes.”
Bruce look at Natasha and then back at you. “That’s, not me either, but yeah, we can watch that, big green cartoon sometimes.” Tony finally tell you who he is. “You seriously don’t remember who broke New York kid? He’s The Hulk!” Bruce looks down and tilt his head to look at Tony. “Yes. I’m that! Thank you for bringing back memory, Tony!”
             You feel guilty for not remember that. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. But hey, New York already broken before you broke it. Can I have a selfie? You’re incredible.” You snap the picture before he even answers. Tony said something “I’m literally right here. The coolest guy in the group.” You turn your head to the girl in black dress, red cardigan. “And you are?”
She answers with a thick accent “Wanda Maximoff.”
             “You’re not from here? You have an accent just like Nat. Well, once she’s mad at me during training years ago.” You remember the detail and Natasha rolls her eyes at you. “That is one time. I slipped.” “Human make mistakes sis. You aren’t machine.”
“I just got here yesterday. I made a mistake. Wrong judgement, I want to make it right. I join them.” She explains and you currently melting, just to hear he talk. You want her to talk more so you can hear her talk. Thing is, you didn’t know that she can read mind. Where is that accent came from? Russian? You ask those questions in your head. “From Sokovia.”
             “Where are you from? What? I just ask-“
Maria answer my question. “She’s a telekinesis, energy manipulation and some kind of neuroelectric interfacing.” “Huh?” You don’t even know what that is and Maria make it simple for you. “Telepathic.” You turn to look back at her. “That is so awesome!” Tony huff at your statement. “Yeah, until she’s in your head.” She just looking down “I’m sorry.”
 Right after she said that, Thor, God of Thunder walk into the room and tell about the scepter. You are amazed and suddenly you bend the knee. “Oh. My. God. You’re Thor!” He looks back at you. “and you tiny female human.” “You. Are. the God of Lightning! I am a fan! No. I’m an air-conditioner.” He smiling, feeling proud. “Thank you, tiny human lady. It’s God of Thunder, actually. What’s an air-conditioner?”
Maria gives us final brief. “You guys might want to prepare something for tomorrow. We’re flying to Korea and find Dr. Chow tomorrow morning. Get some rest, sleep early, you guys need it.”
             You ask them a question. “Can I go back to my place, then come back? Clint can you take me?” “Yeah, I can.” Steve kind of not agree with you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why? I need to take my stuff.” “I can pick her up tomorrow.” You and Clint said and Steve ask you again. “Do you have a suit? or uniform?” You unzip your sweater and show your Donut Do It uniform. “Will, this do? Because someone decided that it was okay to give a surprise visit when I’m on my way to work.” Maria just smirking at you and Natasha smile “I don’t think that appropriate gear for the field.”
Tony offers you to stay with them at the tower. “Captain’s right. Don’t want to risk anything on the team member night before fight. Stay here, I’ve got plenty of room. Natasha can show you. They basically live here. We have spare shirts too.” You look at Wanda “You live here too?” She’s thinking about the answer. “I spend the night here.” Natasha turn you to look at her. “That’s a good idea. Just stay here tonight. Wanda’s here too.” “Natasha can show you your room, take a shower and dinner later.” Tony said. You look at Maria by the mention of dinner. She sighs “Okay, spaghetti and chicken wings.” Natasha add “And caramel pudding?” You smile at her “You remember?!” “Of course I do.” Clint jokingly say “How can she not, you guys practically sisters.”
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Thank you for spending your time reading this. Feel free to reblog or ask me anything, thank you in advance!
Part 3 is coming!
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thatgirlwithtoomanyships · 4 years ago
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my favorite sophitz hcs for ur daily dose of the best ship in kotlc
sophie has a designated napping chair in fitzs room that she sleeps on after school
they have telepathic conversations whenever theyre bored in class which turns into competitions on who can distract the other the most or fitz trying to make sophie blush as much as possible
telepathy classes are both their favorite time of the day because they basically just talk for an hour straight
every five minutes one of them will burst into laughter or start blushing to which tiergan just rolls his eyes and shakes his head at
sophie finds out fitz can paint nails very well because biana and makes him paint her nails all the time
splotching matches become so competitive like very competitive
the gym has to be absolutely covered in mattresses in case of another brain push incident and elwin is there on standby
keefe collects bets from prodigies on who will win, biana sells pins that kids replace their family crests with for the entire day, and dex records the match so they can mock the loser by playing the video many, many times
they usually end up in a tie until one of them says something funny/distracting and they lose focus
the best match will always be when fitz teasingly calls her sweetheart and the splotch instantly hits sophie in the arm
she calls him a cheater and he laughs at her blushing face but its okay because when theyre about to kiss, sophie takes another splotch and dunks it on his head
OH AND fitz stands by her locker everyday since shes always late and hands her a baked good or a jug or coffee
speaking of baked goods, sophie cannot bake at all, at least in the elvin world (that one time she did was w Edaline and she mostly just watched her conjure things up)
apparently their deep connection and trust and them being the most powerful cognates, does not help them in baking
“What did you do?!!” “Nothing! I just put it in the oven at 350 degrees-“ “350?!? Are you insane, Soph?!” “What is it meant to be?” “Fifty!” “FIFTY?!”
even verdi would not eat it
but when theyre not burning the house down- i mean baking, they usually hang-out in fitz or sophies room, but most often they’re out by calla’s tree
fitz would be reading a book while sophie would be listening to music from her ipod
when they start having dancing classes for their school gala, sophie is her usual clumsy self so fitz offers to teach her while they sit outside
sophie would play music and they’d dance with their books scattered around them until the sun started to set and when she would laugh, fitz would spin her around and they realized that it wasn’t just the leaves from the tree that were falling anymore
the first time edaline spotted them she nearly fainted and quickly called grady to come over
he was just about to barge out of the house and get all over-protective when sophie leaned her head against fitz’s chest and closed her eyes. fitz just looked down at her adoringly, his teal eyes sparkling in the sunlight
Grady sighed and decided maybe it wasnt so bad that his daughter had another boy in her life that made her happy, even if the boy might make her happier than he did
THAT STILL DIDN’T STOP HIS DAD SPEECH FROM BEING VERY THREATENING THO
GRADY WAS SURE TO BRING IN THE FACT THAT HE WAS A MESMER MANY TIMES
sophie had never laughed harder than when she saw fitz come into her room after he talked with grady
“It’s not funny! I’m honestly shocked my echo didn’t start up again!” “You’re so pale you look faded!”
one funny day, sophie was so sleepy that she somehow accidentally put on fitz’s crest that he had forgotten at her house and she didn’t notice until he saw her and broke out into a grin
“So that’s where my other crest went.”
ALSO after many games and very quick wins, they are officially banned from playing base quest together on the same team
when shes serious or wants to annoy him, sophie uses fitz’s full name
“You wouldn’t, Sophie.” “You never know, Fitzroy.”
it leads to a lot of tickle fights but hey what can you do
fitzs favorite color is red because sophie looks very pretty in red and also because mr snuggles is red and mr snuggles reminds him of sophie who looks very pretty in red
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kashimos-hajime · 5 years ago
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scorched | s.r. + b.b.
summary: “You utterly destroyed me, you know that? I loved you more than I needed to breathe and you just walked away. I lost everything and you walked away.”
WARNINGS: swearing, angst, violence, a post-endgame rant wrapped up as a fic pairing: steve x fem!reader, bucky x fem!reader word count: 7.3k
a/n: inspired by praying by kesha. written for @coffee-with-bucky​​ and her 2k challenge! congrats lyn :) my prompt was “i failed you. i failed everyone.”and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t inspired by @heli0s-writes​​ and her series “as it was”. check her out! she’s one of my favourite writers on this site!
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“She’s not at the compound,” Sam says, not at all surprised to see him and almost resentful, defensive. His phone is still in hand, screen alit from the text Steve sent him a few minutes ago. Everything he left behind is still here by the lake.
Almost everything.
It’s a ghost town.
“But she doesn’t want to see you anyway.”
“Sam—”
“Five hours for you was five, very long years for us,” he continues, but his tone softens when he catches sight of Steve’s face. Absolutely crushed, eyebrows weighed down, shoulders hunched forward, defeated. “She’s different, now. She’s not the woman you left.”
The mere mention of you makes Steve’s heart, already choked with dread, crack.
“And you shouldn’t go, man. It wouldn’t be good for her after all this time.”
Before, maybe Sam would’ve thought of Steve first, but there’s a distance, a yawning gap standing between them now. Sam was here for the bitter consequences of his departure—Steve wasn’t, and he knows they must’ve been shattering, terrifying, because by the way Sam is so cold about it, he doesn’t want to remember it.
“I made a mistake, Sam. I can’t let her go on thinking I don’t regret what I did.” He looks out at the lake where he passed the shield and mantle and responsibilities on to the man before him before he left, and the sun hits the lake so clearly that his breath nearly catches. You loved swimming, propelling circles around him in the blue-green pool at the compound, splashing it into his eyes. Laughing and laughing and laughing because you’re so limber on land but here you’re definitely a fish out of water.
Funny, funny, funny.
“She won’t care.”
“She has to.”
“Look, man. I’m trying to save you some pain.” Sam puts a hand out, hovering before his chest as if he stopped himself, as if he doesn’t even want to touch Steve, and the blond swallows the painful little knot in his throat. “It’s too late, and I know you want to think better late than never, but she’s changed. Things have changed.”
“That won’t stop me from trying,” Steve murmurs, walking around Sam to where a car is parked. His car. The damned car he drove to Tony’s funeral. He’s sure the keys are still in the cupholder beside your old coffee cup. He wonders who drove you home.
Sam? Bucky?
Who held a body with a heart that was tearing apart while he was chasing some fruitless daydream?
“Dude, the woman you knew is gone,” Sam calls, but Steve doesn’t listen. “You need to leave.”
“No, Sam. We made a promise to wait for each other.”
Okay, clause one: we wait for each other no matter what. Clause two: no matter what happens, we promise to work everything out. Clause three: this love is forever. Sign here.
I can’t believe you’re making me sign a fake contract for something we know won’t change, doll.
It’s a real contract because I wrote it, and it’s just for fun, anyway. I would never love anyone else besides you.
“That doesn’t matter. She’s fucking Barnes anyway.”
That stops him in his tracks. Blood freezing over in his body, he turns to look at Sam in his leather jacket and washed jeans, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes are impassive, severe, and dark with blunt honesty.
“Look, they’re happy. So can you just… leave? Go back to the forties. Settle down anywhere but here, because she is happy and so is he. Do you know how long it took for them to even think about trying to move past you?”
“Wait—” The word comes out ripped, hoarse, and he feels the blood drain from his legs as he takes a step back—
“You should just go.”
For a moment, Steve’s eyes, wide and impossibly guilty, shine with tears. At the thought of you with some other man—somehow the possibility never crossed his mind. In his mind, you are the girl who shelters underneath his arm when it thunders, who tucks her face into his chest when the movie is too scary, who peppers his faces with kisses and makes him lemonade after a good training session, who puts flower crowns on his head when they spend a weekend outside the city and makes apple pies so fulfilling he could cry, who would never love another man because you are so wholly, helplessly, in love with him.
And he left you anyway.
So he nods, because he deserves this.
He deserves this, and he leaves.
.
The wind is warm against his cheeks as he tries to think how he ended up here in Puerto Vallarta, although he does know. Sam dropped him off here with a mission that’ll hopefully lead to another, and you can build a new life for yourself, Steve. One without her in it. If you need something, you know you can call me.
An arms deal. He got a tipoff from one of his CIs that it’s happening tonight by the docks, because he needs his own resources now. There is no Ross, no Tony, no Natasha, no one on his side.
His body yearns for a fight, and he gets it when he hears a soft voice down the docks, speaking in British English, just barely over the lap of the ocean. Crouching behind a metal freight container, he tries to distinguish the voices. At least three bodies, all armed, and his target. One of the biggest arms dealers in Britain down here to make a deal.
Steve, darting out from his cover and to the fire escape by the warehouse, catches a glimpse of the silhouettes of the men waiting. Their shadows are long against the concrete of the dock. The metal clangs underneath his boots as he slowly climbs the steps.
“Where is this woman?” the first man asks roughly, impatience laced through his tone as Steve pulls himself onto the roof. Feet pattering over the metal roof of the warehouse, he keeps himself crouched as the warm, golden sunlight filters through the oily heat. He’s sweating through the kevlar suit he’s got strapped on, and droplets beads around his forehead as he adjusts the shield gauntlets along his wrists.
“She said seven, sir.”
“Tardiness,” the man tsks. “We should’ve known better than to deal with the likes of her. What did I say?”
“That you shouldn’t trust an American, sir.”
“Precisely.” Leaning over the roof, Steve spots the man in question speaking, his suit glowing from the lamplight he stands beneath and he grips the edge of the roof, frowning. The buyer and the seller in one foul swoop. A car door slams and he blinks, tearing his eyes away from his count of at least twelve men, three standing around crates and the other around the man complaining.
A woman steps out of the car, pocketing her phone as she walks towards the illuminated circle, and he frowns, narrowing his eyes. Her face is covered by hair that sways with her every step, but her figure is outlined by the fit of her pantsuit. Even through the clothes, he can see the curve of muscle, the purpose in her step.
A dangerous woman.
“Sorry for the hold up,” she calls out, her voice smooth, rich with confidence. Steve frowns as she stops just outside the circle of light, her silhouette illuminated by warm, rusty orange and cloaked in shadow. “You wouldn’t believe the legalities surrounding contraband in America,” she continues teasingly. “Let me see.”
The man jerks his head to one of his henchman by the crates who cracks it open revealing sleek black rifles, laser sights, silver canisters with a bar along the sides: EMPs, grenades of all kinds. “Is it to your satisfaction?”
“It is. I’m docked in bay four. My men will meet yours there,” she says and head honcho nods. It’s a sign for the three men to pick up one crate each and begin their slow trail up the docks. The crates are massive things, hard black metal that softly rattles with every sway and Steve’s ears prick as the woman steps closer, her heels sharp against concrete.
“I assume this concludes our business, ma’am. It has been a profitable few months. I hope you find your new treasures… helpful in your endeavors.”
“Oh, I’d love to keep communications open. You’ve been a wonderful seller, and as you know, I pay handsomely for quality goods.” Despite his previous irritation, the boss seems to straighten, smiling almost as the men around look at each other. Money. It all comes down to money.
“Of course. My London warehouse, as you know, is open to you should you find yourself across the sea.”
“Perfect. Pleasure doing business with you.” It is then that she steps into the light, and Steve’s eyes narrow at the glint of metal on her ears and in her hair as she reaches forward to shake the man’s hand.
And twist it behind his back, using him as a body shield between her and his henchmen. Her other hand goes to her head, pulling out the pin and digging it gently into the man’s throbbing vein at his neck. It sits comfortably in her palm, almost as if it is molded for her and Steve’s muscles tense, blood rushing to his fingertips.
“Shoot her, now.”
“Watch it, Fitz,” hisses the woman, voice low. She digs the tip of the pin deeper. In the washed lamplight, Steve can see the curve of the blade, the hoop her finger slots into. A throwing knife. “I want you out of this situation alive.”
The knife trails down his body to his thigh and she wraps her fingers tighter around the handle.
Schluck.
The man’s scream rings in Steve’s ears as she tosses the man aside, diving to a stack of wooden crates. Wood and stone splinters beneath the force of bullets following at her heels but she simply unclasps one of her earrings, presses a button and throws it over the crates.
There’s a moment of silence as the men stare at the device at their feet before there is an explosion of smoke. He watches as the woman vaults over the crates and sprints into the cloud and Steve leaps off the roof, pumping his arms to activate his shield gauntlets.
The first man he comes into contact with lets out a startled scream as Steve punches his lights out and his blood is singing. Smoke burns at his eyes and thickens in his lungs as he whirls around, spotting a shadow of a man and he runs toward him, sweeping out a leg to take him down before slamming his knuckles into his nose until he’s knocked out cold and there’s a painful grunt behind him, the resounding collapse of a body that has no intention of getting up again.
Bullets whiz past his face, slamming into concrete and flesh as something rushes past him and he grabs the charging man, swinging his whole body weight into his arms and bringing them both crashing into the ground. The smell of sweat leaks into his mouth as he shoves the curve of his shield into the henchman’s stomach. Once. Twice. Thrice.
The man is rolled over, eyes scrunched tight, when Steve gets off of him.
Eyes straining through the smoke, he watches as a shadow charges at two figures, latching onto the first man and striking the geezer behind him with a power kick to the chest with both legs. The second man stumbles back just as the shadow swings her legs back and brings the first man down to the ground.
Natasha.
That was something he’d seen Natasha practice a hundred times over.
The thought makes his blood run cold and he pauses for a moment, the smoke beginning to thin out as she rolls over the first man and takes down the second with two punches to the gut and a knee to the nose. 
Natasha.
This can’t be real. No. Natasha is dead.
Unless they brought her back.
No, Sam would’ve told him, wouldn’t he?
He’s not sure anymore. 
His throat cinches shut at the thought of the redhead, of the woman who’d been by his side for years, who encouraged him to fall in love with you. Maybe it’s Natasha’s ghost haunting him, taunting him with some lookalike spy, reminding him of his mistake, and he feels himself paralyzed. The memories, the smile of hers before they went back in time— He’d felt so exhausted at the responsibility of it all, the five years of his failure weighing down between his shoulders. It all rushes back to him: your wobbling lips, brave face on his brave girl, fingers digging into his suit, ordering him to come home safe, Natasha’s coy little smile.
See you in a minute.
Strong legs wrap around his abdomen and he lets out a grunt, yanked out of his dazed state as he wrenches the attacker off his back. The woman falls with smack but her fingers dig into his wrists. Her legs wrap around his arm, dragging him down with her.
Steve pitches forward, tumbling forward as she slams his hand into the concrete. His skull collides with the ground and he squeezes his eyes tight, pain blooming from the back of his head. A sharp knee digs into his other elbow and he sucks in a deep breath, eyes fluttering open to a blurry face.
“No.” The word comes out choked and he blinks against the streetlight, eyebrows furrowing together and the weight vanishes off of him. “It can’t be.” Sitting up, he feels his head swim in a dull ache, world tilting as the woman takes a step away from him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
The words ring in his ears, cold, wretched, and he jerks his head up to see your face drained of blood, lips parted, eyes wide. Your shoulders are shaking, chest heaving for air and it rattles in your lungs. Steve can hear your heart pounding, your throat swallowing nothing but wet air.
“Y/N—” He soaks in your figure, the muscle, the confidence, the sharp lines where everything had been soft. You don’t even look too different—you just feel different. He used to sink into your arms thinking of golden sunlight and soft pillows. Now, when he looks at you, he thinks of serrated edges, ironwire bones. You’ve lost your heels in the fight, but you look taller than he’s ever seen you. “You’re… it’s you.”
“Steve.” For a moment, your voice is choked up and your expression softens as you scan his face, but then you tear your eyes away. Your hair is chopped shorter for practicality, just barely past your shoulders. It suits you. Suits the girl he loves, the girl he doesn’t know anymore. “Steve.”
“Are you hurt?” He reaches for you but you shrink back like he’s burned you. This isn’t who you are. You’ve never been a fighter, yet here you stand, pantsuit a bit scuffed but otherwise untouched, and his stomach twists into a Gordian knot. This is what Sam was warning him about. The snake in the garden come to life. “What are you doing here? You could’ve gotten hurt, doll—”
“Don’t call me that. You don’t have that right anymore,” you spit, voice pure poison. He pushes himself to his feet just as something makes you pause and your eyebrows knit together, raising your left wrist where a watch is strapped on. His head is spinning from his skull cracking against concrete and the new revelation that the girl he knows is a stranger again. He wobbles for a moment, arms out to the side as he tries to regain his bearings but you don’t so much as give him another second of your attention. “Docks are secure, Fury. Fitz is ready for pickup. I’ll send London co-ordinates when I get back to base.”
Steve glances at the bleeding man still panicking about the knife sticking out of his leg, and you go over to him, hauling him to his feet. The man shivers, whimpers when he puts weight on his injured leg but you give no hint that you care. As if on cue, a helicopter swerves through the air, rotors sending powerful gales of air down to the ground as it lowers itself to the ground and you look at Steve with a cold disinterest, hand a fist around Fitz’s collar.
“Believe it or not, I’m not just Captain America’s pretty little girlfriend anymore.”
“I just want to talk—”
“There’s nothing I want to say to you.” Turning around, you lug Fitz into the helicopter with a strength Steve doesn’t recognize and you climb onto the chopper with a grace he knows didn’t exist before he left you.
Don’t go. Please don’t go. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.
“I’m going back to the compound,” you say over the loud gusts of wind whipping at the ground. “You’ll find Bucky there, if that’s who you’re really here for because if I wasn’t enough for you then, then I certainly won’t be enough for you now.” Pulling back into the helicopter, you yank the door shut with a slam, and Steve watches as it rises, a steady ascension to a place where he can’t follow.
His stomach twists, his whole body wracked with a shaking agony as his heart pushes itself up your throat. Falling to his knees, he keens over and throws up, acid splashing between his hands. He vomits out his heart, every inch of warmth you’ve ever given him so freely, every smile he’s taken for granted, the taste of your smile after you’ve made those apple pies.
He’s left hollowed out, colder than death.
He wants to cry, but even his mind tells him you don’t deserve to cry for the woman you chased away, so he laughs. Laughs until they turn into tears, and even then they don’t feel real. His body is unwilling to yield to the possibility of defeat, and yet here he is.
It was a one in a million chance for us both to survive that Snap, Steve. And Thanos destroyed the stones. If we can’t find a way to bring them back… maybe the only thing we can do now is move on.
Some people move on. But not us... Not us
Take your ring and give it to the girl you really love because it isn’t me.
Steve’s shock. There was less of a protest, only your determination to stop your lip from trembling, the tears already falling from glassy eyes. Grief bit him in the stomach, but yearning tugged his heart toward the platform.
If all you could think about in the ten years we were together was Peggy, I don’t see why I should stop you.
Y/N, you know I love you.
Not enough.
.
The compound is different. Different plot of land, different inhabitants, different facilities. He pulls up in the lot where the Avengers sign is carved into the stone and he walks the grounds, grounds he used to know but this is different soil.
Another man’s grounds.
“Steve,” Sam says, cautious on the track. He’s wearing a tee-shirt and shorts, skin glistening with sweat and a water bottle in hand. He’s got a comm link in his ear and it glows blue for a moment before muting itself. There are a few recruits running a few laps and Steve eyes them wearily before approaching Sam. His beard was shaved two days ago, his hair chopped clean even though it makes him more noticeable now. He hopes no one says anything about the old Captain America pathetically dragging himself back to a place he tried to run from. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you came in.”
“Yeah. I… I just wanted to see Bucky.” Your name bites at his tongue and it takes all his strength not to confess what happened down in Mexico before Sam glances behind him to a building he doesn’t recognize. It’s connected to the main facility by a long tunnel but there are doors to the track as well, and they open just as Steve fixes his gaze on it.
Two figures stumble out of the building, a piercing shriek splitting the air with glee as one of them runs away from the other. Even from the distance, Steve can see the metal glint of Bucky’s arm, your favourite swimsuit strapped to your body. Bucky’s holding onto something as he chases after you and you barrel through the grass, towel cloaking your shoulders.
“They’re happy, man,” Sam murmurs lowly as they get onto the track and you’re still running but you’re no match for a super soldier. Bucky scoops you up, tossing aside his water gun and wrapping you in a huge hug from behind. “Even if Barnes wants to see you, do you think she does?”
“I already saw her in Mexico,” he utters softly. You’re laughing so loudly it makes Steve’s chest explode with light. You thrash in Bucky’s arms and he pretends to nip at your skin, growl into your ear as you tug at the towel around your neck. You’re… you. Just as he left you. Nothing like Mexico. “Why is she in the field, now? She’s not a soldier.”
“That’s for her to explain, not me. I don’t get to try to describe the hell you put her through, Steve.” Bucky puts you down and your feet in those strappy tan sandals sink into the grass as you spin around. You plant a kiss gently on Bucky’s lips, using the corner of your towel to wipe away drips from his hair before stealing another kiss. Steve’s mouth tingles, burning uncomfortably and he looks away. That used to be him, leaving the pool, smelling like chlorine and sweat and then popsicles to cool down because nothing screamed summer like fruit popsicles and swimming.
“Steve?” A tentative voice calls and Steve’s eyes refocus to the source on reflex. You’re staring at him, eyes narrowed into knife points and you hold Bucky’s arm to your chest, your fingers entwined with his as his old friend walks towards him. “Steve— you’re back? What are you… what are you doing here?”
“Guess the past isn’t where I belong,” he says with a forced smile that digs into his cheeks and Bucky lets go of your hand to hug him but his lips are parted, his eyes wide. He doesn’t believe this is real and when Steve meets your eyes over Bucky’s shoulder, your gaze is burning. Bucky’s arms squeeze around Steve tighter, tight enough that even he can’t breathe. He’s shattered in his arms, Bucky is, and Steve can only hold him.
“Let’s go inside,” Sam says, ever the mediator. Steve looks at him but his eyes are on you, and Bucky’s pulling back and then his eyes are on you, too. All eyes on you and your worried lip between your teeth. You’re tanned, toned, and your hair is shining underneath the summer sun as Bucky steps away from Steve as well. As if the euphoria of having his best friend is gone—it is. He chose a daydream over his family. “You guys need to get dry.”
“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, eyes darkening as they linger on Steve’s face. Soaking him in, thinking a thousand miles a minute, trying to sort through whatever storm lingers in his head. His eyebrows hood his gaze as he lowers his head and Steve can see him slip away as you take Bucky’s hand, cup his face, and turn him away.
“Popsicles, yeah? Gotta get the last ones before Wanda steals ‘em away,” you whisper and Bucky’s nose brushes against your head before they begin to walk away. Bucky’s shoulders are hunched over and you’ve got an arm around his waist, and there is something sacred in the way his head brushes against yours, the way his arm drapes around your shoulders. The way his fingers play with the fluffy towel around you, bringing the corner of it to your wet cheek. The way you step in tandem. 
Something tender, something hallowed, something not his.
You’d been sharp and scorched in Mexico. In Bucky’s presence, you are nothing but dewy grass and a gentle fire, and he sees the tension ease in your shoulders despite a knot lingering in your back.
Once you’d been soft like cotton clouds like it was your nature, eager to stay away from the fight. You were just the receptionist at Stark Towers and Steve had fallen first, so eager to protect you because you were kind, gentle, funny and you didn’t care about who he was. Just that he was Steve and you were you.
I can’t let anything happen to you. You can’t protect yourself against these guys, Y/N. They’re… they’re monsters.
And he left you to them anyway, in a world still struggling to find itself repopulated and alive—
I failed you. I failed everyone.
The realization devastates him. No matter how hard he tried to fix the world, he destroyed his life anyway.
“Come on, man. If you wanna talk, we should do it in private,” Sam says. Steve follows him numbly into a building he doesn’t know anymore.
.
You’re sitting with your legs bent and angled in towards Bucky, playing with a butterfly knife that flows too easily between your nimble fingers. Sam sits on the leather seat and Steve leans back into the sofa as you bite softly into your red popsicle. Strawberry. Your favourite.
Bucky’s sucking down a blue one but his face is placid, eyes burning into the glass table between them as Sam sits down with a cup of coffee he had offered to make for Steve. The blade flips over your index finger, and then back around again. Your hair is stringy and wet, tied away from your face as you set down the knife and turn to Bucky, eyes searching. You brush his hair away from his face even though it’s cropped shorter now and smile even though he doesn’t focus on you.
He doesn’t miss Bucky’s hand around the curve of your thigh, holding you to him as if you’ll slip away otherwise. He fights the nasty remark pounding against his teeth—that’s his girl his best friend’s got his hand on—but he knows it isn’t his place anymore. Steve watches you lick sweet strawberry melt from your lips, trail your fingers along Bucky’s head delicately and pull his temple towards you for a quick peck.
It’s almost as if Bucky wakes up at your touch, and he turns to you. He searches too, scans your gaze and Steve feels like he’s intruding on a moment so he looks into his lap.
“So?” Sam prompts, tearing everyone out of whatever bubble they’ve encased themselves in and pulling them back into harsh reality. “Who wants to go first?”
There’s silence where Bucky puts down his popsicle stick on the bowl brought out, blue melt sliding down the wood slowly as you bite down on the last of your own treat.
“Steve?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, accepting already.
“I have so many things to say and I don’t even know how to say any of it, but I know to apologize,” the blond says after a moment of hesitation. His breath keeps catching in your throat and you lean forward to drop off your own stick by Bucky’s, almost a statement to his own words. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” Sam asks for clarity, but Steve entertains the notion that maybe even his friend wants to draw it out of him.
“I didn’t know what I had until I lost it.” Steve makes a point to meet three pairs of eyes except you refuse to look at him, instead staring into Bucky’s lap like he doesn’t even exist, like you don’t exist either. “I should’ve stayed. Should’ve thought it through and realized that... everything I had back then is everything I had here.”
“Is that all?” Bucky stares at him with something like pity, something like jealousy, and Steve knows it has all to do with the woman in his arms. Ten years of conflict to push lovers together compared to five years of overcoming heartache because of one man. Steve would be jealous—had been jealous of Steve of 2012. 2012 Steve had a whole decade of love waiting for him and he has none. “Are you here to stay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“If you think you can come here and have everything that was yours just given to you on a silver platter, then you’re wrong,” you speak up for the first time and it sucks all the warmth out of the room. Bucky turns to you, hand raising from your thigh to brush a wet strand of hair away from your cheek and you clench your jaw, lips pressed together. “We built our lives without you in it.”
“Y/N.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees but you seem to shrink away from him, eyes tortuously meeting his.
“You leaving me was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me,” you whisper with a rage unbridled, unchained, just barely containing itself from exploding. “It made me realize how much stronger I am then you have ever given me credit for.”
“You weren’t that girl when I met you.” Soft girl with sunshine smiles and gauzy white dresses—lemonade pitchers, tulip gardens—you weren’t that girl, Steve’s mind protests but when you unwind from the couch, stretch every languid muscle in your body, he wonders if he ever saw you as anything more than someone he had to protect.  
“I believed you when you said I couldn’t fight.” You stand, gazing openly at him and he swallows at the hopelessness residing in your gaze, still there after five years. “That I wasn’t enough like you to even try to help. All I ever was to you was some pretty little thing who was scared to fight back and maybe I was because you sheltered me for ten fucking years.” Your voice twists with pain, overflowing with a frustration of lost time and pure, pure sadness. “You leaving me made me stand on my own two feet again.”
Bucky reaches forward to take your hand when they all see it tremble but you simply roll it into a fist and step away.
“You put me through hell, Steve. I had to learn how to fight for myself because you weren’t there. Because you left me for some fucking daydream.” For a moment, he thinks you soften because your eyebrows fall and you close your eyes. The muscle in your jaw ticks, your nose twitches, and when you open your eyes again, they are glassy with tears. “You utterly destroyed me, you know that? I loved you more than I needed to breathe and you just walked away. I lost everything and you walked away.”
Tony. Natasha. Boss. Best friend. Colleague. Sister.
“How could you do that?” you whimper, blinking as tears scorch down your cheeks and you wipe them away angrily with the heel of your hand. “How could you just look at me, look at Sam, look at Bucky, and think that there is nothing worth staying for?” You throw out your hand helplessly, waiting for an answer that won’t come and Steve chews on the inside of his cheek, throat swelling shut.
“It felt like minutes,” Bucky says at last, and the darkness in the room, the stifled feeling in Steve’s chest eases only a tad because Bucky is not nearly as thunderous as you are. You twist to look at him, arms crossed over your chest and Sam reaches to touch your arm, fingers wrapped around your bicep. You spare him a glance before looking at Bucky. “We died, we came back five years later, and it only felt like minutes.”
“Bucky—”
“You chose to leave what felt like minutes after I died, after Sam died, and when Y/N told me what happened… Steve…” A shuddering convulses down his throat and Bucky looks down into his lap. You unfold your arms and immediately go to sink into the couch, wrapping an arm around Bucky. Your eyes pin him down, red-rimmed with unshed tears, accusing: you did this to an already broken man.
“I’m so sorry, Buck.” The apology sounds plastic in his mouth with how many times he’s said it, thought it. “I’m so sorry.” He says it again anyways, and he directs it at the two other bodies in the room. You gauge his expression, watch him like he’ll vanish in a flash of smoke.
“I was happy for you if leaving meant I never had to see you again. I know you deserve a happy ending, Steve. You deserve rest more than anyone I know,” he says, “but you need to know what you want before you decide to risk it all. You can’t come crawling back for second chances because there are none. You don’t come back and have everything stay the same. There’s a price every time you give something up.” He looks up, eyes like clear water. There’s nothing angry in his old friend’s gaze, just drained. “If you’re here to stay, you better be sure that this is what you want in the end.” And then Bucky is up, rubbing at his face like he’s tired rather than an inch from crying. Steve watches him go—they all do—silently, and then you look at Sam who gets up to follow.
There’s a moment when you meet eyes with Steve and he can feel the love you swaddled him in for ten years, through the Snap, through the Accords. No matter where he was, you were there.
Then that love disappears.  
“I want you to hurt like you made me hurt,” you begin softly, hands folded in your lap, t-shirt hanging off your frame, stuffed into your shorts. “Like you still make me hurt. I want you to wake up crying, I want you to rub your face raw, I want you to stay awake all night just wondering why this has happened. I want nothing more than you begging on your knees for something you can’t stop no matter how hard you try because somehow you just aren’t enough.”
He closes his eyes, lets your words devour him whole.
“Bucky was there,” you continue quietly. “He was there for me in a way you never were. He drove me home after you left. Told me that the best was yet to come. That I just couldn’t see it yet, and I didn’t believe him. For the longest time, I didn’t believe a single word he said.”
“Until you did.”
“Until one day, I looked at him and told him I know. That I know, one day, things will change,” you agree and something melts in your voice when you speak of Bucky. Kindred souls, the same heartache lurking still in chests just beginning to warm from love again. “Maybe it hurt less that day so I decided that I have to accept that this was my life now or maybe I was just so sick of crying that I told myself that this isn’t who I’m going to be. I don’t know. I just woke up one day, and he asked if I wanted to go swimming. First summer after everyone came back, and I wanted to say no, but I just had to say yes because it was swimming, and it was Bucky, and he was barely holding it together but here he was… taping and gluing me like I was some abstract project.” You chuckle, a wet sound, before glancing down at your knees. There is something you’re not telling him, and he knows it’s something secret to you and Bucky alone, so he doesn’t push it. Doesn’t ask—his chest already feels like it’s cracked open. “Some of the pieces won’t ever fit again.”
“Bucky,” Steve says, “did he train you?”
“Yeah.” Explains a Black Widow move. You sound proud, but not of yourself, of your own feats and talent, but of him. “He encouraged it. Said it was only right I knew how to fight.” Steve’s stomach turns and he looks down to swallow. Bile is burning in his throat. The threads of his heart are tearing.
“I know it’s all I’ve been saying, but I’m sorry. I… I just tried to protect you in every way I could.”
“I know.” Your words are soft against his battered ears, and he looks up at you sitting there, ramrod straight but a certain gentleness that reminds him of the past. “I know you loved me in the way you could.” Clutching, grasping, desperate not to lose another woman he loves. “When you saw Peggy, did you just decide that that was easier?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just felt like I was missing something. Something…”
“... you couldn’t find here?”
“Just something.”
You ruminate on that, eyes fixed on the popsicle sticks and Steve rubs his hands together, head bowed. The silence is terse but not hostile, and you pick up the butterfly knife on the cushion. You don’t flick it open, just run your thumb over the edge and Steve thinks you might cut him stem to stern before you place it down on the glass table.
“I used to stay up all night wondering where I went wrong,” you say it frankly. It’s not meant to hurt him anymore. You seem tired of being angry, but it’s still there, just there underneath your skin. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t eat unless Bucky made me. I would’ve rather starved than live in a world where you didn’t love me, but he said if he had to go on, then so did I. He never asked for anything in return, and I was just so fucking angry at myself that I listened to him just to spite myself. I cried all the time. I didn’t move from my bed for months. Yet, one little part of me,” you murmur, gaze rising to meet his, “always just wanted you to be happy. I wanted so desperately for you to make the right choice because then maybe this would’ve been worth it for you.”
It’s big. Your words hang on imaginary strings around his head, whistling in the faint air conditioned wind, and he clenches his jaw, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Although you’re barely holding yourself together before him, you’re deathly beautiful.
“I’m so glad that you’re so loved,” Steve intones quietly. “I’m so thankful that Bucky loves you.” He doesn’t need eyes to feel it. It’s a quiet thing, unshaking yet fragile as flowers and light as dandelion wisps.
“I didn’t think he did.” You lean back into the couch, tuck your feet underneath yourself and cross your arms over your chest. “It took me a long time to accept that he does, and now he won’t believe that I do, too.”
The confession sinks its teeth into Steve’s throat and threatens to tear his flesh.
“I tell him and I can tell he doesn’t believe me sometimes. No matter how much I want him to, it’s the one thing he can’t believe because…”
You were my girl, Steve thinks.
“He doesn’t believe he’s worth staying for. Worth choosing. You did that to him, you know? Did that to me.”
“I know.”
You stare at him and he looks at you, curled up on the couch. Your face is drying, but that torn expression still sits on your face as you run a hand over your middle, fingers folding as you close your eyes and duck your head.
His eyes trace the gesture, eyebrows knitting together, and then he looks at you because he knows. Because it had been their dream once, and when the fight is over, baby. The world still needs you, Captain America.
He had said, half joking, When will they ever stop needing me?
When you grow old and grey, and another Captain America is ready to take your place.
“Bucky’s?” he asks, body numbing. You nod, raising your eyes to his. “Does he know?”
“No. I only found out a few days after Mexico.” Three weeks ago. “I want to make it past a few more weeks, just to make sure.” You tuck your knees to your chest, arms folded over your abdomen and Steve tries to imagine it swollen with life. No longer lean with muscle but bountiful with a miracle. Blue eyes, blonde hair— no. Not anymore. “Just wanted time.”
Time. It’s all he’s ever wanted, and now…
“I know.”
Now he has none at all.
Your eyes meet his, fluttering and haunted, and he simply meets your gaze. There’s a quiet understanding in that moment as you bring your hands up to hug yourself, and he swallows, leaning back into the couch. His hands rest on his thighs, and your back sinks into the back cushion of your loveseat as he thinks of what to say.
Perhaps there is nothing to say.
Instead, his right hand goes to his pocket where a ring is still pinched tightly in between the creases. The diamond is sharp against his flesh, and he tugs it out carefully before setting it on the glass table between them. You stare at the thing, watch it glint. It’s mocking you, but Steve doesn’t want it and he doesn’t know what else to do.
“It’s always been yours,” he says, pushing it to your side of the table. The diamond scrapes against glass but doesn’t leave a mark. “It’s never been anyone else’s but yours.” The ring clatters against the gass. You’d worn that damned thing for years on end. First it was the Accords, then Wakanda, then the Snap, and he should’ve married you when he had the chance—he should’ve done so much more than what he did.
“Do you love me?” you ask quietly, eyes unmoving from the winking gemstone. The golden band is glowing in the pale lights of the compound as he nods.
“Yes.”
You reach forward to grab it, extend a leg to shove it into the pocket of your shorts, and then you’re sitting there, feet on solid ground again. You gauge him, study him, eyebrows down, lips curved into a soft frown.
“Okay.”
You stand and pick up the knife before grabbing the bowl as well. You clear your throat and look over Steve’s head, at the walls with photographs and paintings and a dartboard by the doorway, and then you look at Steve again.
Your futile attempt at a smile makes Steve smile, just barely, before you walk past him and head for the open kitchen. You set the bowl down in the sink before heading for the hallway, and Steve can hear your step, your off-rhythm breathing.
“Do you love me?” he asks, turning to look at you, and a sigh whispers past his lips as you pause. Your hand is in your pocket as you turn around, playing with the knife or the ring, he doesn’t know.
“You can’t ask me that, Steve.” Your voice is steel, your eyes unforgiving, and that soft girl is swallowed up by the scorched woman, burned by his absence. You haven’t forgiven him. You never will. “Look, I’m going to go find Bucky. We have… we’re going berrypicking in the afternoon, so…”
“Yeah, no, go. Don’t let me keep you.”
“See you tomorrow, Rogers.”
There’s an utter sense of finality to it. A chapter closing permanently and you’re already on the next page.
“See you.”
The door slides shut and you’re gone.
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tamsong · 4 years ago
Text
pull you from the tide - keefitz
summary: in which fitz tries to hammer it into keefe’s head that he deserves to be loved. 
notes: this is half vent, half fix-it. this my first time writing fic for kotlc since i was like 13, so let me know what you guys think?
warnings: swearing, very vague references to homophobia and bad parents
***
keefe doesn’t come home.
a week passes, then two. a month. three. everything is weirdly silent on the neverseen front, despite sophie’s daring act of burning down the waterfall hideout. it feels like time is standing still- keefe’s absence hangs heavy in the air like ozone in the hour before it rains. 
fitz has barely spoken in those three months. in another world, he might’ve been angry like he usually is. in this world, though, no one’s around to be angry at, and fitz feels like his roots have been ripped out of the ground.
at the next black swan meeting, fitz quietly asks to speak to mr. forkle alone. the black swan leader nods resignedly, like he already knows what fitz is going to ask. sophie raises her eyebrows at him from across the room. i’ll tell you later, he transmits to her, but he doesn’t plan on it. sophie’s been hurt enough, and if she knows about this and it doesn’t work, she’ll be devastated.
mr. forkle walks him down the hall. he doesn’t say anythin
“i want to go look for him,” fitz says, trying to sound confident. but he’s anything but. he doesn’t feel like anything more than the desperate, frightened child that he is.
mr. forkle opens his mouth, but fitz cuts him off. “please,” he adds. “i... i don’t know what else to do. i know he said he doesn’t want to be found, but i- we can’t go on like this. i know the forbidden cities better than almost anyone, so i might as well try. please.”
“i can’t promise you’ll find anything, mr. vacker,” mr. forkle replies. “but if it’s really what you want, i can give you a leaping crystal.”
fitz sighs. “i know. trust me, i know. but if there’s any way i can get him back, i still want to go.”
the black swan leader nods in response. “very well. i’ll meet you at everglen tomorrow morning, and i’ll monitor you to ensure your safety. now, go on and meet your friends, and put this out of your mind for the rest of the day.”
he thanks mr. forkle profusely, then does as he’s told. only a few minutes after he leaves does fitz realize that his request was granted far too easily- mr. forkle, while certainly not a cruel man, expects him to fail. there would be a lot more lecturing and protocol if he didn’t.
fitz doesn’t blame him.
***
the next morning, fitz takes the blue crystal from mr. forkle, his hands trembling. he’s dressed in the same jacket, jeans, and boots from when he first found sophie. he thought the memories would be calming, but the sense of deja vu only unsettles him, really. on that pleasant thought, fitz holds the crystal up to the sunlight and steps into its path, holding his breath.
he arrives in an empty park, hidden between two trees. freezing rain is pouring down from the sky, a sharp contrast from the eternally pleasant weather at everglen. fitz shudders, puts his hands in his pockets, and steps out of his hiding place.
he roams the streets of san diego all afternoon and evening, ducking in and out of stores, cafes, and libraries, all of it to no sign of keefe. finally, when the sky is nearly dark and the rain has slowed to a drizzle, fitz stops in front of a building with sign reading san diego youth services. he shrugs and opens the door. it’s as good as anything, i guess.
“have you seen my friend?” he asks one of the staff in heavily accented english. “he’s tall and skinny, has blond hair and light blue eyes. about my age, doesn’t speak much english.” 
the woman squints and brushes her wet hair out of her eyes. “we had someone like that come in a couple months ago, and he comes here to sleep most nights. fidgety guy, looks sad all the time?” 
fitz pulls his jacket hood further up. “that's probably him, yes,” he answers, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. may i see him?” 
she nods. deep frown lines run down her face, like she’s seen too much tragedy in her short life. “sure. last i saw, he was out back.” 
the staff woman walks fitz through the building out to a secluded area adjacent to an alleyway, protected from the public eye. fitz doesn’t see anyone at first, but on second glance spots a flash of blond from further down the alley. he hurriedly thanks the woman and dashes over, heartbeat picking up. 
he skids to a stop when he sees keefe there, sitting on a step and dripping with rainwater. he looks up, startled, at the sound of fitz’s footsteps, and his mouth opens and closes in shock once he realizes who’s in front of him.
fitz expects a snarky comment, something like well look who we have here! or wow, guess i’m famous, but keefe says nothing. on one level, it’s terrifying, because fitz has rarely ever known his friend to be silent. on the other hand, though, he gets it. even without keefe’s strange new ability that makes speaking a risk, what else is there to be done in a situation like this? two years ago, they both would have laughed if told this would be their future.
they hover there for what feels like hours, neither boy knowing what to do.
finally, fitz breaks the quiet. “hi,” he says lamely, and then slaps himself mentally. really? is that the best you can give him? 
he tries again. “keefe. i...” no. that wouldn’t do either.
“you couldn’t even bother with a goodbye?” he finally bursts out, trying to muster up the anger he doesn’t feel. this isn’t the right way to approach it either, but fitz doesn’t know how else to communicate. “did you think i wouldn’t care? sophie’s not the only one who was fucking sad, you know. biana can barely do anything but cry. dex isn’t talking to anyone, and neither is linh. even tam- i know you guys never got along, but he wants you home just as much as the rest of us.”
he shakes his head. “i know this can’t be easy for you, but we want to help you. even if we can’t, then we can find someone who can.”
“i’m not even mad, really,” fitz continues, looking up at the sky. he can’t bring himself to make eye contact. “if you didn’t care to say goodbye to me, i get it. i haven’t exactly been best friend material lately, and i wouldn’t blame you for never wanting to speak to me. but i read what you wrote to sophie, and it’s the biggest bullshit i’ve ever heard. be happy? forget about you?” he scoffs. “do you even hear yourself? i- she- we could never do that. you’re giving yourself too much credit.”
he turns around, fists clenching so hard his nails cut through his skin. “so this is my goodbye, i guess. i meant to bring you home, but you deserve a choice after everything. stay away, if you must, just know that we- i care for you, keefe. you deserve to be cared about. and if you don’t come home... i’ll miss you. i want you to know that.”
fitz finally exhales. he’s said his piece, laid all his cards out on the table. it’s keefe’s move now, and fitz will respect it, even if it fucking kills him to do it.
“fitz.” keefe speaks for the first time since fitz arrived, his voice hoarse and miserable. fitz whips back around, searching for any sign in his best friend’s face that might signal a change of heart. 
“fitz,” keefe repeats. the expression he wears is downcast and resigned. “i want to come home, more than anything i’ve ever wanted. but i can’t. it’s not safe, not for you or anyone else.”
“then tell us how to make it safe,” fitz begs. his hands twitch, desperately wanting to reach out. “anything you ask. hell, we could even hide you in my closet at everglen like the time when we were little and your dad was coming to take you home.” 
keefe’s mouth twitches, and even if it’s not a whole smile, fitz counts it as a victory. “that’s... nice of you to say.”
fitz softens. “of course,” he replies, not hiding how choked up he is. “anytime.”
keefe taps his fingers against his thigh, looking down. after a long moment of silence that seems years long, he lifts his face and speaks again. “you’re not making this easy.” his eyes gleam with unshed tears. “maybe if you make it a little harder...”
fitz’s hands move of their own accord, resting on either side of keefe’s face. the other boy’s cheeks are warm despite the bitter, freezing rain.
fitz... actually has one more card he could play. it’s one he’s kept in his pocket since the middle of level three, never shared with anyone, not even with sophie. 
there’s never been a world in which revealing it would be acceptable, but maybe things are different now. more complicated and painful, yes, but if there’s even the slightest chance that this secret could bring keefe home, then he’s willing to accept that pain.
fitz lays his final card on the table.
he kneels in front of where keefe is sitting on the step, never breaking contact for a second. keefe’s wide eyes follow him as fitz lowers himself down, his expression open and vulnerable. fitz leans in close, but pauses just inches before his friend’s lips, giving keefe time to move, time to reject him and run away.
when keefe makes no effort to resist, fitz closes the distance and kisses him.
it’s a short, soft thing, the connection as fragile and fleeting as a candle flame in a windstorm. but to fitz, this kiss is everything. it’s a representation of his enduring care for keefe, the affection that sprouted when they were children and has only blossomed since. despite everything standing in their way, fitz has loved keefe and always will.
he just hopes it’ll be enough for keefe. 
fitz pulls away, not letting himself linger too long. he resists the urge to look away, instead gazing into keefe’s eyes and smiling gently. he’ll wait as long as it takes for keefe to make his move, and he’ll respect it. he just wants his friend to know the truth.
suddenly, keefe bursts into tears.
he throws himself forward, nearly knocking fitz over. he buries his face between fitz’s neck and shoulders, his body wracked with sobs. fitz hugs him back, running his fingers through his friend’s tangled hair. keefe cries and cries, holding tightly to fitz until his sobs fade to tremors and there’s a wet patch on fitz’s sweatshirt from his tears.
“okay,” keefe finally whispers, sending shivers down fitz’s spine. “i’ll take us home.” 
keefe shifts and moves his hand up between them to fitz’s shirt pocket where fitz always keeps his home crystal. he plucks the crystal out, scans the area, and raises it up to the last dim sunlight trickling through the rainclouds. 
fitz holds keefe close as the two boys dissolve into the light, leaving san diego behind.
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rosemarylemonades · 4 years ago
Text
Do you want to be helped?
What’s up uhhh here to share this thing I wrote for my creative writing class that got really good feedback and now I really like it and I wanted to put it into the world
It’s about a sad boy named Sage who’s really going tf through it
CW: self-harm/suicide, no explicit descriptions
Monday
           I stared at the mess I’d made for a moment, before breaking my trance and getting the cleaning wipes from under my bathroom sink. The lemon scent of the cleaning wipes quickly overpowered the metallic smell that had filled my nose moments ago.
           I tossed the used wipes in the small trashcan and washed my hands before pulling my sweatshirt on. The sleeves fell just past my palms, hiding me from the rest of the world nicely.
Tuesday
           I sat in front of Dr. Brady’s desk, anxiously waiting for him to finish his phone call. He spoke quickly to whoever was on the other end of the line, “Yes, thank you so much, I’m with a student now so I’ll speak to you later.” He hung up the phone and turned to look at me, offering a reassuring smile. “Sage,” he began.
           It felt like someone glued my mouth shut, so I just nodded at him to indicate he had my full attention.
           “I promise you’re not in trouble, but I’m very concerned about your performance in my class,” Dr. Brady said. “You’ve always been a good student, is something going on in your personal life?”
           I thought back to my last few attempts at doing anything for his class – staring at what seemed like an impossible amount of homework questions each week before shoving everything into my backpack and missing exams because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed.
           A lump rose in my throat and I choked it back. “No sir, I think I just took on too much and overwhelmed myself this semester,” I said. My bottom lip quivered slightly, but I kept my voice steady.
           How do I explain to my English professor that I have no motivation to finish my homework because most of the time I’m wondering if I even want to be alive?
           Dr. Brady ran a hand through his short, graying hair and let out a small sigh. “You have a lot of potential, and like I said, you’ve always been a good student. I can give you a couple of weeks to make up your missing work, but if you can’t I have to recommend you drop the class.”
           I thanked him and left, opening the registration portal on my phone and dropping the class as I walked down the hallway.
Wednesday
           “What seems to be bothering you today, Sage?” Dr. Fitz folded her hands on her lap. I shrank down into the oversized armchair in her dimly lit office, glancing at various things in the room to avoid eye contact.
           “I’m behind in my classes and I had to drop one,” I mumbled, picking at my already torn-up cuticles. “It just made me feel shitty. I can’t do it anymore.”
           “Well, why don’t we talk about why it’s making you feel that way?” Dr. Fitz said. “Maybe we can find some new motivation.”
           I half-heartedly agreed. I didn’t really care about finding a solution to my problems anymore.
Thursday
           I stared at the blank text document on my computer screen. The thought of even attempting my homework frustrated me to no end, and I honestly didn’t care about my classes anymore, but I wanted to give it a try. I pulled up the questions on the browser next to my document, looking between the two. I struggled to process the words I read, let alone form a coherent answer to them.
           I slammed my laptop shut, a bit too dramatically, and gripped my dark hair in frustration.
           Idiot. Lazy. Failure. Screw-up.
           My mind was full of words to describe how I felt about myself these days. Tears had welled up in my eyes, and they threatened to spill over at any second. This had been building up for weeks, and now it was all going to burst out over a homework assignment.
           A knock at my bedroom door snapped me out of my miserable state for a moment.
           “Just a minute!” I called. I took my hands out of my hair and smoothed it down in an attempt to look normal, blinking the tears out of my eyes and wiping them with the back of my hand.
           “Sage? Are you busy right now?” Quinn’s voice came from the other side of my closed door, catching me off-guard. I had expected it to be my roommate, Aiden, asking if I wanted to go to dinner. “Sorry for just showing up, I haven’t heard from you all day and Aiden let me in.”
           I crossed the room and opened my bedroom door. My boyfriend stood there, concern painted all over his face. Before I knew it, the floodgates opened and all the emotions I’d been trying to force down poured out. I couldn’t even get a word out before fat tears began rolling down my cheeks. He backed me into my room and shut the door, enveloping me in a tight hug.
           I took in his comforting scent of cigarettes and pine with every gulp of air I managed to get in between sobs, and he rested his chin on top of my head while I gripped two fistfuls of his t-shirt and cried it out.
Friday
           Quinn kept treating me as if I was about to break, and it was starting to get on my nerves. I was embarrassed at the way everything spilled out of me when he showed up at my door. He had enough on his plate, but now he had to worry about the fact that I scream-cried on him for an hour over my homework and I might have let it slip that I wanted to die. That’s just fantastic.
           I desperately wanted to go back to pretending everything was fine and I was dealing with normal college stress.
           “Baby, have you talking to your therapist about what’s going on?” Quinn said on the other end of the phone line. He’d called me on every break he had today, met me to walk me to some of my classes, and even brought me lunch. On a normal day, I would have relished in every second of his company, overwhelmed by how in love I was with him, but today I just wanted to be alone.
           “Yeah, but I feel like it just doesn’t help anymore,” I said. I felt uncomfortable, like I wanted to crawl out of my skin if we stayed on this topic. I was tired of talking to people about how messed up my brain is, and how my family disowned me when I came out as gay, and how I didn’t see the point in anything anymore.
           “Do you want to be helped?” Quinn pressed.
           I stayed silent. He didn’t want to hear my answer to that question.
The voice in my brain scrutinized everything about me, making sure I knew how much of a waste of space I was.
           My mom’s voice replayed in my head, just a few weeks ago demanding I get out of her house if I was going to choose to be a fucking faggot.
           Things would be so much easier on everyone if I was just gone.
           “I’m worried about you.”
Monday, again
          I sat up in bed for the first time in a couple of days. My body was sore, but I pushed past the discomfort. The sunlight streaming through the window made the white walls of the hospital room brighter.
          I had texted Quinn and Aiden each a goodbye Saturday night. One of them called for help, apparently just in time to get to me before it was too late.
          I wrestled with so many emotions when I woke up and grasped what happened; I felt angry and depressed, God, I couldn’t even kill myself right; I felt guilty, imagining the stress Aiden and Quinn must have been under dealing with me before, and how I made it even worse.
          The emotions hadn’t quite settled yet, but they were getting there.
          I spoke to Quinn on the hospital phone a few hours after I woke up, still pretty out of it. I didn’t have any family to be there for me, so he was the first person I thought to call. I apologized profusely, cried on and off, barely able to form a coherent sentence as I stammered out apologies.
          He forgave me, but hearing him cry on the phone while we talked made me feel even guiltier about the entire situation.
          Aiden forgave me, too, when he and Quinn brought me my phone and snuck in some soup from Panera so I could eat decent food.
          Despite how depressed and guilty I felt, I was starting to reach a sort of… relief, that I had survived.
          People in my life cared enough about me to get me help, they forgave me for what I did, and they continued to be there for me despite how hard I pushed them away and everything I put them through.
          Maybe I didn’t want to be gone as badly as I thought I did. The voice in my head continued to whisper nasty things to me, but I had the proof right there that maybe things could get better.
          I didn’t really know anymore.
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agentofship · 4 years ago
Note
Fitz Cupid 👀
"Oh! It's you!"
He looked around but there really wasn't anyone else she could be talking to. "What?!"
"In my office earlier. It was you, wasn't it?"
Oh for god's sake, not again! It had never happened to him before and now twice in the same day.
Again, Fitz tried to make his mouth work --or his brain-- but it was impossible when her doe eyes were fixed on him and the sunlight on her hair made her look so angelic.
"Do you work at Stark's as well?"
"Uh...um...not exactly no," he finally managed to say lamely.
She frowned. "Not exactly? You mean like a consultant?"
"Yes!" Fitz cried out. "Yes. That. Consultant." That sounded much more believable than "I'm a Cupid sent to find love for you who can't even control abilities he'd mastered when he was still a child." Thank you for asking <3
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jamiedc-they-them · 4 years ago
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SIBLING DUTY (PART IV) PLATONIC
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Requested Imagine: “Absolutely LOVED reading Sibling Duty part 3! 🙂 Would you mind writing part 4 set in season 5 where Reader and the team find out that Deke gave Daisy to Kasius and Reader attacks Deke in a fit of rage and Deke is confused by her reaction?”
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The lights had only gone out for a moment for you. That was all it was, a moment; three seconds at most. However, when the lights came back on, you were alone. Or, you thought you were, until you met the confused gaze of Fitz.
“Fitz?” You asked, silently communicating your confusion.
“Y/N?” He did the same.
You both, however, didn’t have long to think about it, as army soldiers stormed the place, aiming their guns at you. You both rose your hands, both in instinct and as you knew that there would be no way out of us.
However, as they pulled you away, you only thought one thing: Where the hell was Daisy? Why had she left you behind after going all this way to find you in the framework?
You were sat on a chair, getting looked down upon by two army soldiers; to be honest, you were shocked that Talbot wasn’t there….Oh wait, a Daisy LMD had shot him.
“Where are they?” The female asked you for what seemed to be the hundredth time, you groaned loudly as you through your head back with said groan.
“For the last time, I. Don’t. Fucking. Know.” You said with more and more frustration. They held fear in their eyes for a moment, it was then you realised that your power was taking control of you.
Oh, no; whether it be in the Framework, or here, it seemed you never did fully figure out control over it.
An older woman entered the room, given the look she gave you, it seemed she had experience with Inhumans, “Give us the room, go check on the other prisoner.” She ordered them. The word, “Prisoner.” Struck something in you.
“Wait, “prisoner”? What have you done with him?!” Fitz! Fitz!” You yelled out as they left to go after your friend. You got up, the woman even let you get the door as it closed and then locked, “FUCK!” you cursed as you looked back at her with hurt and teary eyes; she just waited for your move. Finally, you went back to the chair.
“Very good; now, let’s try this again, shall we?” She didn’t wait for an answer as he opened your file, “Y/N Johnson, Daisy Johnson’s sister. The ever famous, Quake. Shame the media never gave you a name, seemed you didn’t do enough for that.” You knew she was trying to goad a reaction from you, you weren’t going to let this bitch have this over you.
“They left you behind, that’s the main theory. The other is being explored by your friend. I mean this when I say this, that I hope we find them.”
“It doesn’t matter if you did, I’m already a monster. I mean, my ability is darkness, kind of on the nose.” You said, bluntly. The woman looked at you with what looked like pity.
“I have a family member that is kind of like you.” She admitted to you; you looked to her as continued, “She thinks she is too. I can’t speak for you, but I know I’d never give up on her, I’d help her. Because I know she isn’t.” She told you. You weren’t sure as to why. But you didn’t answer back.
As you then sat in your cell, you debated a question. That one, single, question; had Daisy given up on you because you were dangerous?
Maybe, was the frightening answer you always landed on every time like an unlucky flip that happened to land on its side every time. No, you weren’t liking that outcome at all. Sadly, though, it was all your brain could think of as you sat alone in your cell.
They were god knows where, as was Fitz, and all you had were your thoughts to keep you company. When you were alone before, you normally had company either next door or next to you (namely Daisy as you would’ve probably just saw a film or a show together).
Now, you had no idea if there even was a person next to you. As far as you were concerned, you were alone, and no one was coming to get you.
You had started making carvings in the wall, marking another day. After a while, it had started to fill up different walls. You had lost track, just another day with nothing but four walls and a boat load of self-hatred and doubt in a bond that may have never existed in the first place. Maybe it was just a grand thing you had managed to fool yourself of; you were good at selling yourself fantasies after all.
It’s what had made you hurt your bond with Daisy that she then tried to save in the Framework, maybe she’d found out that you had that fantasy and now she was breaking it and stamping on it under her feet.
You laughed as your mind joked that she was Quaking it apart.
That was, until you were dragged out of your cell on god knows what day. You were pulled into the room you had been in before. It was the first room you had been in that wasn’t your cell.
However, you weren’t alone in that room. Fitz was there too.
“Y/N?” He asked, taking in your appearance, the longer hair and much, much, less fight in your eyes. If anything, it scared him to see you look so defeated; so drained.
A few moments of silence passed you both as you weren’t sure whether or not this was a dream. When Lance Hunter, an old friend of you both, walked in; it didn’t help things.
He too looked a little taken aback by your looks, but still went ahead with his plan. That plan sent you both to the floor with ringing in your ears. Then outside and into sunlight for the first time; you had almost forgotten what that was like.
As you watched the best flyer that Hunter’s money could buy crash, you couldn’t help but laugh at it all. Now it all really felt like it wasn’t real.
Fitz’s steadying touch to pull along felt real, as did Hunter’s concerned hand on your shoulder as he spoke something to you. But you were just out of it.
“What’s wrong with her?” Hunter asked his friend, looking to him as he asked.
“I don’t know, I don’t think they let her out.” Fitz theorised as you looked around as if you were in a simulation. Although, that thought made him shiver; maybe part of you still thought you were in the Framework, seeing as how wrong things had gone right after they had gotten you back.
 Now, you were in an RV, as Fitz looked for any sign of your family. As he did, himself and Hunter looked at your now sleeping form, the way it shivered and as you muttered inaudible things.
“So, you both were in a simulation, and Daisy and Jemma brought you out?” Hunter asked, wanting to make sure he got this right.
Fitz nodded, “That’s pretty much it.” Fitz said, even if it just made him hate himself more.
“Right, so we need to find where they are and fast.” Hunter said, speaking aloud the thoughts swirling around in Fitz’s mind.
“We do.” The Scotsman agreed.
They had found a way to find everyone, albeit a little sci-fi ish. It involved you and Fitz traveling to the future and finding them and then bringing them back to this spot. You had somewhat found yourself again, less spacey and more unnerved rather than anything. Oh, and one more thing.
As much as it pained the two, you were sure that your dynamic with Daisy was pretty much shattered at this point….again.
He hated to say it, but you were pretty much the platonic (as if it needed to be said) version of what Fitzsimmons had going for them; that they were cursed. Or, so it seemed to be that way, anyway.
So, you looked at the pod you would be traveling in, a small space; but Enoch had promised you that you would be asleep the whole time and it would be like a click of your fingers and you would be there.
“Hey,” You turned to Fitz as he walked over to you after you spoke, “We’re going to find them.” You said, trying to sound optimistic, “You can be with Jemma again.”
“And you can reunite with Daisy.” Your friend told you.
“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes. But I’ll see you on the other side, right?” You asked him; he nodded instantly.
“See you there.” He said.
The next moment, you fell asleep and into the void once again.
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When Daisy had first landed, the first thing she did was look around for you. However, panic soon started to spread as she realised that she couldn’t find you, as you were not there.
She was away from you; she had lost you again just after getting you back.
She started to feel her breath pick up, her heart start to beat faster and faster as she fell back onto the floor. Jemma was by her side the next moment, “Daisy, Daisy, I need you to breath.” Her friend tried to get her to follow, but Daisy was too trapped in the thoughts of what had happened to you.
Jemma then grabbed her best friend’s face, “Daisy, Y/N will be ok. Both her and Fitz are together. If anyone can figure out how to find us, it’s them, alright?” Jemma said, trying hard to believe the words herself.
Daisy let herself nod as her breathing somewhat calmed down.
 In short, the place was like a slave trader’s yet dream, only in the future. Granted, it was filed with more a diverse crowd, sire; but a slave trader was a slave trader either way.
“That is Lady Karaba. She is a demented brute. Her affection a curse to anyone who receives it.” Enoch, the Chronicom who had brought you here, informed you. Another person walked into the room, this time a man who fit the slave trader name to a T, wearing a gold outfit and a smug smile, “And there is Senator Gaius Ponarian….I am repulsed by the sight. Even the man’s closest friends find his temperament to be that of a diseased child monster.” He admitted to you.
“So Kasius has assembled the worst of the worst.” Fitz summed up as you continued on your path through the area, trying to blend in as if one of the locals. TO you, it felt disgusting to have to try and act like such an abhorrent creature.
Then again, with your power, you already were in a way. As your brain “kindly” reminded you as yourself and Fitz continued on your path.
Now, as far as your knew, Enoch wasn’t a Clairvoyant; but, either way, his next words seemed to be spoken as if he knew what your thoughts were telling you, “Do not fear. You are far more reprehensible than any other creature in this room.” He told you, unhelpfully.
“Thanks for that, Enoch.” Turned out Enoch was alright at emotions with his response to Fitz’s sarcastic statement.
“You’re quite welcome.” He said with a sly smile, although maybe that was just you, as it seemed to be a genuine smile and a genuine response, “It was a rather fun pursuit, constructing your alias. No longer are you Leopold Fitz, but instead, Boshtok, a vile space Marauder of unlimited wealth. And you are no longer Y/N Johnson, but Quassatas, his trusty friend and equal in vileness partner.” Enoch told you both, giving you the roles, you now had to play if you wanted to survive.
So, you started to mingle in with the crowd, as much as you hated it; you had to do it to survive here. Fitz, however, kept putting his gaze to Jemma; you nudged him, “Go on, we’ll be fine here.” You assured him, pushing him up to the spot.
“I apologise that we haven’t found Daisy Johnson, yet.” Enoch said to you as you were the only two left standing around. For you, it was just autopilot; the fake smile and pleasantries you gave the other traders as you passed them.
You shrugged, “We’ll find her and the others and get out. Simple as, really.” You said, drinking from the glass you took from the servant.
“You sound as if you don’t want to find her.” He pointed out.
You glared at him, “Of course I want to find her, she’s my sister; these people are our family….It’s just, we went through a rough patch and never really figured it out.” You confessed, finishing the drink.
“Ah, siblings feuds. A tale as old as time.” Enoch said in a somewhat nostalgic tone.
“Not exactly a feud, more as in a fuckup on both sides. Why, you got experience with it?” You asked him.
“Not so much experience, more I’ve seen them on my time here.” You nodded at his answer.
 Fitz had had his talk with Jemma, and had told you that she was being kept in the role she was in as a maid to keep Daisy “motivated”, as you both knew nothing motivated her more than any member of her family being in danger; but especially not a sister like Jemma.
Now you were sat at dinner, trying to avoid the gaze of someone who you used to be the closest with, but now (to you) felt like a cold and distant relationship. You knew she had been taken, but still you knew that your bond had been hurt by a lot of things.
You could feel her gaze on you as she gulped, seeing you here and knowing that you were still in pain, “Someone you know?” Ben asked, despite being able to read her mind and already knowing the answer.
“She’s my sister….It’s complicated.” She settled on, knowing that he probably had the answers he was looking for anyway. Although, she then remembered that he too had an inhibitor on him.
“Sibling stuff is always complicated.” He empathised, “What happened?” He asked.
“We’re both powered, and we did some stupid stuff that accidentally hurt each other rather than helped; I then saved her from….a place, but we haven’t really had time to talk.” Ben nodded.
“But you still love her?”
“Of course, I do, she’s family. Maybe we’ll get to talk soon….Or, I hope we do.” Daisy admitted, showing a moment of vulnerability.
“If it means anything, I hope you do too.” She nodded, not talking, but the nod showed her appreciation for the words.
Still, she watched as you and Fitz staked your claim at the table, playing by your new roles as people who had crossed the line years ago and showed no sign of stopping; for Fitz, it was insulting the food; for you, it was the guests and taunting them.
As Fitz continued to talk about how the leader, Kasius, controlled the humans, you took over for him, “Best way to stop a monster from turning on you? Turn it on another monster or turn it on itself. That way it never points it’s beastly gaze at you,” You pointed to Kasius with a knife as you cut into the snail that was brought to you moments before, “Better to drive away the other monsters with your best one than accept it with the more….civilised of people.”
Daisy knew you and Fitz were both putting on an act; the two of you were being different people to get them back. She knew that, but still, what you both said and how you said it unsettled her a little. Did she had that it had? Of course, she loved you both immensely; still, it had to be said.
As she was hauled off to the arena, she tried once again to meet your gaze; for a moment, she was successful, but it was only a quick moment.
Still, it was nice to know that you were here; in danger, but when weren’t either of you in trouble in some way? At least here, you could finally reunite properly. She knew you had still yet to have a proper talk. Sure, she got you out and you both were elated to see the other; but this was different. Now, she was gone, and you were the one finding her. Only thing was, she could clearly tell that things were different with you; your power was ruling you more on an emotional level. You seemed more cynical and jaded. You had both seen the effects that going overboard for someone had.
Now, she could tell, you feared yourself around them, so you made the power go internal; just like she did with her own gift. Now, it seemed to be your turn for that.
 She was in the arena, fighting Kasius’ right hand woman, Sinara. She was doing an alright job, but Sinara was just about winning. However, you watched with slight fear. As much as you feared yourself and Daisy’s reaction to you, she was still your sister.
So, you watched as she fought, how she relied on her quips and skills that both yourself and May had taught her. You watched as she mixed in her powers with them to gain the upper hand.
You then watched as she lifted herself up with her ability, only to then be sent right back down with the click of a button via Kasius.
However, it was also in that moment where you acted; with Simmons stabbing the man, Fitz shooting a guard and lowering the shield, and you tackling a guard out of the window and onto the hard floor.
Seems you and your sister had that shit luck o not landing on something soft; plus, a reckless streak that you would probably never break.
Still, you landed on the floor, with your opponent landing next to you. You both writhed around on the floor in pain, before you felt your power grow as you were in the darker part of the room. You stood up, sending him flying backwards and skidding on the floor. He did, however, throw an object that you swore miss as you felt nothing from it.
The next moment, he was unconscious with a shot from Fitz’s ICER. You then looked down, finding the blade in your side; you put a hand to it, before pulling the blade out. As if being hunted wouldn’t be bad enough.
You knew that you couldn’t stop the mission because of you, however. You knew that your sister wouldn’t want that, especially in her condition.
Speaking of your sister, you then went over to her as your friends helped her up. Fitz seemed to communicate to Jemma that he could shoulder Daisy for a moment; that moment was then filled with Jemma hugging you.
You returned the hug, genuinely happy to have your friends (or two of them anyway) safe. Still though, as Jemma and Fitz led Daisy out, you trailed behind; telling yourself it was to keep an eye out behind them (part of it was) and not just so you didn’t have to see the fear in Daisy’s eyes at how much the struggle of keeping control of your powers were.
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They led and you followed, having not said a word since you left the arena. You knew that you were being hunted, which was just swell; seemed the only moment you got of peace that lasted was that cell as morbid as it was true.
Still, they led you into a room that you weren’t sure if it was a guard’s room or not. To be honest, you didn’t really care. It was a place to rest for a moment and catch your breath. For yourself as well to rest a little and try and fix your wound on your own.
As you turned from them, you saw a cloth on the table. While probably not the cleanest thing in the world, it would have to do. So, you picked it up and placed it over your wound; despite knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you would end up losing too much blood.
“You’re here, you both are here.” Jemma said to you both in glee; even though you knew she was more talking about her boyfriend than you. You just gave her a smile as you saw her eyes flicker back to Fitz.
You watched as Fitz approached your sister and knelt next to her. It was strange, in a way, with how he used to have a small crush that went away like nothing; now replaced with nothing but familial love for her. His love for Jemma, however, had an almost opposite course; going from friendship to Romantic.
You weren’t really sure as to why your mind took you down that trail of thought; maybe just to distract you from the pain you still felt from your wound and to distract you from Daisy’s gaze. However, you did hear how Fitz pulled her attention back to him as he seemed to know that ever since the prison, you didn’t want to have that conversation with Daisy.
He knew what it was like to still feel guilt from the Framework, go knew he did. He hated himself and he was sure you disliked yourself more than you did. Although, at least then, you had Daisy and the others to rally around. Now, you were trying to not have that.
He saw that when Jemma approached you to ask about you, when you gave her a smile and flinched from her touch. That only rose her concern.
“Y/N….what happened to you?” She was about to press for more information before she cried out in pain and clutched at her ear.
As she did so, you saw a guard about to enter the room. So, you did what you had to do. You had to defend your family, knowing that it would most likely put even more of a strain on their trust of you.
You launched yourself at the guard, knocking him to the floor. You went for his weapon, but a hand grabbed your foot and stopped you. You kicked him in the face and went for the weapon once again. You heard Simmons’ cries as you struggled against the Kree, the rifle that he was pressing down on your neck.
Your eyes went fully dark, and the man flew off of you as a shockwave was sent out; the place rattled at it. The lights even flickered for a moment.
As they pulled out the device in Jemma’s ear that had deafened her, they felt the room shake and saw the lights flicker. As Jemma recovered, Fitz and Daisy shared a look. They knew it wasn’t Daisy as she still had the inhibitor, so there was only one person left.
“Y/N.” Daisy breathed out as she ran out of the room, leaving Fitz to stay with Jemma and help her recover.
 As Daisy ran out, she saw you leaning against the wall and catching your breath. However, she did catch you wiping at your nose, “Hey, hey, hey.” She said, approaching you, reaching a handout to help you stabilize yourself.
“Don’t touch me.” You all but sneered at her; she had to admit, she was taken aback by it.
“What’s wrong?” She asked right after; while not the best question, it was the only one she could think of, “Are you –”
“Just go get Simmons.” You said, moving on to go find your ship. Daisy watched you go with both worry and sadness. She gulped back tears but complied with your order.
 As the other three followed you to find the ship to escape, that soon died out when you all saw the ship explode outside of the window. As it went, you shook for a moment, before you noticed that no one else had shaken at the ship exploding. Luckily for yourself, you were in the back of the four, so no one had seen you lose your footing for a moment and have a ringing sound in your ear that came for a bit before it died down once again.
You continued to follow them, until you came to an elevator. This elevator was meant to get you up to a floor to find your friends. As it started to move, Fitz checked up on Jemma, while Daisy checked on you. Fitz’s’ was done via asking her and physical contact; Daisy’s was done by a look that communicated to you the question of how you were.
She hadn’t seen you stumble, but she had seen that you had become paler since your last appearance. She wasn’t a doctor, not even close, but she knew that you weren’t ok. You weren’t even close to being ok.
Sure, she had brought you back from the Framework, but she could tell the damage that you had suffered before she had met you in there was still holding onto you. She didn’t know what it was, but she wanted to know.
Of course, you had to be alive for that to happen.
The elevator stalled; you were on the floor as of the next moment. Now the ringing was reaching an almost fever pitch.
As Daisy tried the pass on the elevator again, everyone was drawn to you via a vomiting sound. They saw you vomiting on the floor, but it wasn’t just vomit; it was a small bit of blood mixed with some of the energy of your power.
“Y/N.” Fitz said, walking over to you and rubbing your back; he lowered his voice, “Y/N, are you sure you’re ok?” He asked once more.
You met the concerned eyes of your friend, “Yeah, yeah. We’re all good.” You assured him, but now even you weren’t fully believing it.
As Daisy called him over, she kept her eyes on you for a moment longer before asking him for a boost to get to the vent that led to the roof. As she reached the top, she then reached down for Simmons.
Then it was just the two of you left, “Fitz.” You called after your friend; he turned to you, “I need you to do something in case I lose control,” He didn’t like where this was going, “Just, shut up and listen,” He nodded at your demand, “If I lose control, Daisy won’t be able to do it. But I need you to put me down.”
“Just like that?” He eve clicked his fingers at how quickly you were asking him to just kill one of his best friends.
You nodded, “Like a rabid dog.” You confirmed for him. Your breath shook as you justified (or rather, tried to justify) your want of him, “Daisy won’t be able to do it. She’s my sister, I love her. But….I can’t hurt her, not any more than I already have. Or….more than we already have hurt each other,” You sighed, knowing that he’d want to know what you mean by that, “We ended things rough in the framework. When she entered it….it was like an entirely different Daisy interacting with an entirely different me.” Fitz nodded, knowing that he could empathise with that; the struggle between your life in the Framework vs in the real world.
He remembered how dark you were in the Framework.
“Ok.” You could tell he still wasn’t fully on board; but it was a step in the direction you seemed to want. Even if he really, really, didn’t want it to come to that.
 You then ended up in a room with pipes. As Daisy inspected it, she found it to be warm. You were forced to put your hand on it to stabilize yourself. However, it was then that your shirt was stained red.
Daisy put your arm around your shoulder without stopping. You could tell, even as she spoke to Jemma about it being a spa, that she was still worried about you; as her voice shook. Still, she was trying to mask it and stay positive.
“Try the door.” She told you as you both pushed against it, only to no avail. She readjusted her grip on your arm and waist, trying to keep you upright. Trying to keep you conscious.
She then guided you over to where Fitz was; the man was currently staring at a thing he feared, Gravitonium.
“That’s not good.” You said, having to blink to keep yourself from falling asleep. However, you were then awaken by bullets slamming into the wall. One even hitting Fitz.
It was a Kree, and he had a weapon. Fitz was behind cover and bleeding; at least you weren’t the only one now.
Daisy pushed you both down onto the floor as she moved into fight the Kree. You, however, had other plans. As Fitzsimmons started to leave, you threw your hand up as Daisy was pushed back, the bullets hitting the void you had channelled in front of your sister to stop her from being killed.
However, he then turned to you, “NO!” Daisy screamed as he fired a single bullet at you, sending you to the ground.
As your shield dropped, Daisy finished him off with a punch, then ran over to you.
“Y/N? Y/N?! Hey, HEY! I need you to open your eyes! Can you do that for me?” She asked, tapping you on the check to try and goad a reaction for you. However, you didn’t respond the way she wanted, at all.
“Leave me.” She managed to make out as you mumbled a sentence or two out before stopping yourself and your breathing went laboured.
“Hey, what did I tell you in the framework?” She asked you. Again, it did not go her way.
“That I’m a monster that can’t be helped?” You managed to say, bluntly.
Daisy stopped cold in her tracks, “W—Wha….What?” She asked, each one in quick succession of the other. She then put your arm around her shoulder again as she lifted you up.
“It – It was what you said……when you –” You were starting to lose consciousness at this point.
“Hey, no! Y/N, no! You can’t go asleep on me! Stay with me, come on!” She yelled, but it was turning into a cry as she kicked open the door and put you on the floor. Jemma turned to you, and her eyes widened as she saw your figure.
“You….were right.” You were just talking (quietly but talking none the less) to no one in particular in terms of target. But Daisy knew they were meant for herself.
“Right about what?” She asked, holding your hand to try and keep you on this side with them, and not whatever lay beyond that.
“I let it win….I lost, Daisy.” The three friends shared a look.
“She let the darkness in.” It was Fitz who said the conclusion. Daisy looked at her brother figure with a look of tears and rage.
“What do you mean?” She asked, despite knowing the answer.
“That fucking cell.” You said, before coughing. That was then followed by more vomit, this time being just your void energy inside of you.
“What cell?” Jemma asked that one, looking between you both with fear and horror.
“We were locked up Jemma right after you were taken. We were on our own for six months.” She covered her mouth as she felt a pang in her chest the feeling of the two of you being along for so long.
“Y/nn,” Your eyes barely focused on your sister, but you were trying, “That version of me that said that, she’s a bitch, alright? You are not a monster. You are my sister, my best friend. And I need you to make it through this, ok? I need you to let Jemma help you in anyway you can because –” She was cut off by a new intruder in the room entering.
Your world blurred for a moment, but you managed to somewhat feel Jemma applying something to cover your wound.
However, when your hearing allowed you to hear for a moment, all you heard was, “This is the guy who sold me to Kasius!” from Daisy.
You didn’t care who it was, but you felt their presence. That next moment, they were up against the wall, restrained and having a blade up against their throat.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He cried out as it happened to him, “I’m guessing this is the sister you told me – no, more like warned me about?” He asked in fear.
“That’s her.” Daisy answered, wondering if she should just let you do it. However, she then remembered the words you told her that she had given you the last time you had spoken in the framework.
So, leaving him tied up, she approached you and crouched down in front of you and cupped your face in her hands, “Y/N, I need you to listen to me; I know you’re angry, scared and scarred. In your head, it’s beyond repair,” She heard the man (Deke) choke more, “But, you’re not, ok? You’re not broken beyond repair. I’m here; so is Fitzsimmons, Mack, Yoyo, May, and Coulson. We know you, Y/nn. You are not a monster. You’re our friend; you’re our sister and daughter. We’re here to help you every step of the way. But you have to take this first one, ok? You need to let him go, Y/nn.”
It took a moment, as the man cried out as the blade neared him and neared him. However, just as it was about to impale him, it stopped and disappeared, and he was realised from it’s hold.
“Here.” Deke said, holding a syringe out to her as a kind of peace offering, “It’s adrenaline. Should keep her awake a bit longer.” He said as Daisy cautiously took it.
“You’re still on my shit list.” He didn’t seem to mind right now.
“Sure, but I know how important family is.” For a moment, she softened, before she jabbed the needle into your leg.
She then took a breath, “Let’s go.” She said to her other friends, before getting you up one more time, and they were on their way a once again.
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“You ready?” Your sister asked you as she continued to support you as you stood outside the entrance to the room.
“As ready as I can be.” You answered. With that, Daisy knocked, before Coulson opened it and hugged you both, before realising the state you were in.
“Oh god, here, let’s get you sat down.” Coulson said as gently as he could to try and hide his very clear fear.
The others all crowded you and Fitz as you were both put near each other, almost as reassurance that the other was still here.
“Alright, we need to get out of here, they are right behind us.” Daisy said, letting them all know what was at stake here.
As the others got ready to get another Inhuman, you focused on just keeping your eyes open and yourself alive.
“Hey, Y/N.” You opened your eyes to see Coulson crouching in front of you, making sure you were doing just that.
“Doesn’t that hurt your knees or back?” He chuckled a little at your words, before putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Keep fighting, alright? We need our hero to pull through.” He told you; Daisy had clearly told him. Still, you appreciated it.
“Sir, yes sir.” You said, with that, they left.
When they returned, you all realised that you actually had no where to go to. You were stuck. Then the holes started coming through the wall.
You knew it wouldn’t take long for them to get through. Then you looked at your hands, those that wielded the power that was so often terrifying yourself. It still did, but you had a bit more confidence with it now.
“Daisy!” You called; your younger sister was immediately by your side.
“What is it, Y/nn?” She asked, putting both her hands on your knees.
“I need you to help me up, please?” You asked, the last bit a quieter. But she only obliged your request.
“What are you doing?” She asked you; not out of mistrust, but it was just so you were both on the same page.
“They want in. They’d need to go through a layer of void energy.” You said as you shakily held up your hand; you were still weak. However, Jemma realised, and approached you to help you hold your arm up.
Once it was up, you then pulled all the power you could in your state and focused on the growing holes, they were then covered in that void substance.
As you did that, the new kid (Flint) removed the rocks as Deke did another thing to get into your good books; giving you his gravity buckle to go up the shaft to get to the Trawler (your way out).
When it came time for you and Daisy to go up, she guided you over and into the shaft, “Hold on.” She advised you, you did so. You had both hugged before, just never while being lifted into the air. That was new.
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You weren’t out of the woods yet, but you were in a better place. You were on a ship with your family (well, most of it. Mack and Elena had stayed behind) and ready to tackle what was next together.
You didn’t know what would lay down on the earth, you just knew you were ready to take it on. With people who saw you as someone that wasn’t ruled by the monster inside of you; but someone who ruled it.
Someone who they loved and cherished.
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thestanceyg · 3 years ago
Text
Darcyland Drabble Race the Second
So here’s my contribution to another drabble race. Again under the cut because there’s a LOT.
Quantum 1 “Oh my god,” Jane said, flopping down on to the couch next to her. “I had forgotten this show was even a thing.”
“It’s my stay home from school sick comfort show,” Darcy said as she pulled her blanket tighter around her. The chills she was experiencing were no joke.
“Man, I wonder how the creators of Quantum Leap feel now? Like…that tech kinda actually exists, even if it’s classified.”
“I don’t think they know about it Jane,” Darcy said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know, on account of it being classified and all.”
2 “The fuck does this word mean?” her dumbass lab partner asked.
“Which word?” she asked with a put upon sigh.
“Quantum,” he said, pointing to literally the first question.
“Thor wept,” she muttered under her breath before turning to him more fully. “Here,” she said, pointing back to the textbook. “Definition’s right here. I’ll even read it to you. A discrete quantity of energy proportional in magnitude to the frequency of the radiation it represents.”
“No need to be a bitch about it.”
She idly wondered if killing him was a possibility. “Sure sure,” she said, sugary sweet. “Since I’m such a bitch, don’t worry about me helping again.”
3 “I don’t think the quantum physics work that way,” Fitz said with a tilt of his head as he looked at the projection.
“I mean, I didn’t either,” Darcy agreed, joining him, “but I also don’t doubt our modeling software. Something’s happening here that’s unexpected, and that means either we have something wrong, or there’s something we have yet to figure out that’s acting on everything.”
“You know what that means?” he said with a smile.
“More research dates,” she said before kissing the tip of his nose.
“Can’t wait,” he said before claiming her lips.
4 “Quantum Laser Tag is the best!” she yelled, highly offended. “I can’t believe you just besmirched it’s good name!”
“Err, all I said was that laser tag was kinda lame.”
“It is not!” she practically whined. “Okay, dude, maybe you’ve not had good laser tag experiences, but I have to say that does not mean you get to shit on literally the greatest arena in at least the tristate area.”
“You’re…really passionate about this,” he said giving her a look she couldn’t decipher.
“So is this your way of bowing out of our first date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell no,” he said, smiling.
5 “I’m just saying, that the names at this bar are not scientifically accurate,” she complained. 
“Jane. Literally none of us give a shit. We are here to get shitfaced and giggle over our jobs being somehow alcohol themed,” Darcy reprimanded her. 
“I’m definitely having a Quantum Blast,” Helen said, sidling up to the bar.
“Really?” Darcy said giving her a disgusted look. “I mean…there’s something about adding the word ‘blast’ to it that turns me off from it.”
“Fair,” Helen agreed. “But it has triple sec in it and I’m in the mood.”
Darcy tilted her head in acknowledgment of the wisdom.
6 “I promise to never play with the quantum field again if we can just get out of this alive,” Darcy said more to herself than anyone else.
“What?” Scott asked.
“Just promising myself to try and stick to my field in the future should I survive whatever this is.” She gestured to the everything around them that really defied understanding.
Scott nodded. “I wish I could make a similar vow, but it’s kinda my field now. Though this,” he looked around a bit, “is indeed disconcerting. I could, err, try to make it up to you when we get out of here.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Yes?”
7 “Nope. Not happening. I will not be teaching quantum physics as my teaching assignment next semester. It’s not my field. I would have to do my own research just to feel like I was giving the students an adequate course,” she said as soon as the department head had offered her the schedule.
“Well you don’t have a lot of options here. You’re still a candidate and not a post doc so you don’t get to argue with me really.”
“This is some serious bullshit,” Darcy groaned. “But seriously, Johnson would be way better at this. He even has done research in this field.”
“Yes well…”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darcy groaned. “You’re doing him a favor and I’m the one that has to deal with the consequences?”
Nebula 1 “And if you look here,” the professor droned on as he used his laser pointer, “you can see a nebula that is starting to die.”
“Kinda like me in this class,” she muttered under her breath. The guy next to her laughed, but covered it with a cough. She looked at him and winked, and he honest to Thor blushed. Well damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing that she’d ever seen.
She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote her name on it and slid it over to him.
He read it and smiled a bit and wrote back.
Fitz. Nice name. She couldn’t wait to be screaming it later.
2 Nebula was very murderous and Darcy kinda loved her for it. It seemed like there was a lot of deep seated anger that the woman was ready and willing to take out on anyone and everyone. You had to love her unapologetic rage. Darcy couldn’t help but admire how she didn’t give a shit if someone thought it made her less attractive because anyone dumb enough to voice that sentiment would probably end up with a knife in them. Was it wrong that she was a little turned on?
That thought made her come up short.
Shit. She didn’t have time for a crush.
3 The fabric technically had nebulas all over it, though the fabric name had the word galaxy. In the grand scheme of things it really didn’t matter, but it annoyed her for some reason. It seemed that all sorts of little things were bothering her lately, and she couldn’t find the reason. Why should she care that she had “galaxy fabric” that was actually nebula fabric? She would make the damn pillow covers and then she could tell her friends it was nebula print. Giving up caffeine had been a bad idea. It made her crabby. She should probably reconsider her idea to stop drinking coffee.
4 Nebula Swirl was possibly the best flavor of ice cream she had ever eaten, and it was looking like she would only be able to eat it for one more month if something drastic didn’t happen. She took her cone and snapped a picture and posted it to Instagram with the tag SaveGalacticCones. Maybe someone would see it and drop some cash their way. It wasn’t their fault that the freak storm had damaged the property and left them paying off heavy repair bills. They deserved to thrive, if for no other reason than it was the ice cream of her youth and she had so little to remember her childhood by.
5 “I don’t research in the Horseshoe Nebula,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “In fact, I don’t even look within a million light years of there. So please explain to me in very small words why you think your project should get any of my grant money.”
“Because I need to fund my research Dr. Witherow said. “It’s as simple as that. I need more funding and you just won a lot of money. There’s no way you’ll need all of it, so umbrella my study under your project and we’ll both win.”
“No, dude, we won’t ‘both win.’ That grant is actually just one of three for my project because it doesn’t cover everything.” Thor save her from entitled scientists.
6 “It looks kind a like a nebula” Jane said as she looked at the giant bruise on Darcy’s hip.
“I guess that’s fitting because the pain is out of this world,” Darcy tried to joke. It didn’t quite come off as carefree as she had hoped, but that was possibly because she was an hour out from her next pain pill and the current one seemed to have mostly worn off.
“Darce,” Jane said with a bit of warning in her voice. “You’re going to let me coddle you because that’s what I need. I think you do too.”
Darcy sighed. “I know.”
7 A burst of nebula like light flashed before her eyes as the hit landed.
She didn’t pass out, but it was a near thing.
“You will do what we want, Dr. Lewis!” the man spit at her.
“No. I won’t,” she argued. “And you hit like a little kid.”
The man’s face turned a red she didn’t realize was possible before he backhanded her, hitting the already blooming bruise from the earlier punch. “I think you will change your mind.”
“I’d rather die.”
“That can be arranged,” he sneered.
“I doubt it,” she countered. “You need me too much. And if you keep hitting my head, it’ll be that much longer before I’m even capable of doing what you ask.”
Vortex 1 Of course it was a solar vortex. Or, at least that’s what she was calling this abomination in her mind. She wasn’t sure what else to call what appeared to be a tornado of sunlight that was leaving a path of fire and destruction behind it. Why couldn’t normal things happen to her?
She would have to blame Jane. Shit like this never happened to her before New Mexico.
Of course, it could also be that this kind of madness would still happen to her even if she had never been an intern, but blaming Jane felt familiar. That woman definitely owed her ice cream for changing her life like this.
2 “It’s not a vortex” Dr. Strange said, the pinched look on his face clearly telling him what he thought of Darcy and her inability to call it whatever name he had given his portal thingy. She knew it wasn’t a vortex. It was just fun to razz him and see him get annoyed.
He was kinda cute when he was annoyed.
Well, he was kinda cute regardless, but his cuteness was focused on her whenever he was annoyed because 99% of the time it was her fault.
It wasn’t healthy, but it was working so she’d deal with the mental health implications later.
3 “I promise you that’s not a tornado,” she said to her storm chasing boyfriend. “I know it looks like one, but, very unfortunately for the entire town of Lawton, it’s actually an anomaly called a temporal vortex.”
“What does that mean, Darcy?” he yelled over the roar of the storm.
“It means that if we don’t get out of the path of that thing we’ll end up in an alternate reality that may or may not include a breathable atmosphere.”
“Right,” he said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’d like to live to have another date so one storm evasion coming up.”
4 “It’s called The Vortex,” Helen said reverently as she placed what Darcy thought was a fishbowl on the table. It had six straws sticking out of it.
“Why?” Pepper asked, looking at the drink cautiously.
Helen shrugged. “Does it matter? What matters is it tastes like sunshine and amaretto and goes down easy and will get you shitfaced if that’s what you want.”
Jane grabbed a straw and took a long slurp. “I need to get shitfaced and Helen isn’t wrong. I don’t care what’s in the Vortex. It can be made of baby souls and I will keep drinking it. It’s a fucking delight in my mouth.”
5 “I am sick of the Polar Vortex and it’s technically only been here for three hours,” Darcy said as she cuddled more into the blankets and tried to burrow even further into the warmth of her boyfriend.
“I’m not exactly excited about it either,” he agreed, “but at least it means we have guaranteed time together. That’s been a rare occurrence lately.”
Darcy nodded and debated it it was worth getting her arm out of the blanket to grab her hot chocolate.
“Darce?” he asked.
She turned to look at him. His eyes were soft. “I love you.”
Her breath stopped. He hadn’t said that before. Maybe the Polar Vortex wasn’t that bad.
6 “Sedona is weird,” Spencer said with a frown.
“Are you talking about the vortices?” she asked.
“I am,” he said, studying the map they had been given at the little tourism station. “I just. I can’t believe people believe in this stuff.”
“Ehh,” she said. “There’s a lot of shit I wouldn’t have believed in before it happened to me. You know, like Asgardians and such.”
“Maybe,” he agreed with pursed lips.
She pointed to a spot on the map. “Look, that one’s on a trail. We said we were going to do some hiking, so we’ll go there and treat it scientifically.”
He perked up just like she knew he would. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.
7 “I am a vortex of emotion,” she said before throwing herself on the couch.
Pepper handed her a glass of white wine. “What happened today?”
“He’s just so cute,” she practically whined. “And he has no idea that literally every time I’m talking to him I’m trying to flirt. I swear I used to be good at it.”
“Perhaps Bruce is ignoring it?”
Darcy shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I also hate that idea. Please don’t ever say that again. How can I live if he doesn’t like me back?”
“Do I just attract drama queens, or is there something special about you and Tony?”
Darcy gasped. “How dare you think I’m not special. You take that back!”
Supernova 1 “Why are you listening to Oasis on repeat?” Jane asked as she walked into Darcy’s apartment.
“Not Oasis,” Helen corrected, “Champagne Supernova.”
“Oh, Darcy. No hon.” Jane threw her purse on a chair and went to the kitchen and started going through the freezer. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said as she came back into the living room. “I am going to make us some very alcoholic fruit slushies, you are going to move on from Oasis to some 90s Alanis, and then you are going to tell us what happened.”
Jane disappeared back into the kitchen and Helen looked at Darcy.
“And then we plot revenge,” she added.
2 “I promise you there was never a Gusher flavor called Supernova Blast. That wasn’t a thing. You need to stop trying to convince me it was. I might be dumb, but I am not that gullible.”
“Aww, babe! Who said you were dumb! I’ll be happy to knock some sense into them.
“Darce, that’s not the point,” Peter said with a whine. “The point is you cannot make me believe it.”
Darcy turned her laptop to show him the Google Image search with Supernova Blast gushers.
“Your reality is so flippin’ weird,” he said as he stared at the screen.
3 “It’s, like, more than a nova. It’s a SUPER nova.”
Darcy just stared at the man in front of her. This was the last time she allowed Clint to set her up on a blind date.
“Riiight,” she said. “Ummm, I’m sorry, but I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back,” she said as she grabbed her purse and praised the heavens that she hadn’t brought a coat too.
She grabbed a waitress as soon as she was out of his line of sight. “Hi, I need to escape a bad date and I will pay you $40 to let me out a back door.”
The waitress grabbed the money. “Done.”
4 “And next up is Supernova!” the announcer roared. Darce waved to the crowd as her name was called. She hadn’t expected to love roller derby as much as she did, but it truly was a life saver. The team was amazing, it allowed for stress relief, and it was something that was just hers. No being in Jane’s academic shadow. No being in her brother’s professional musician shadow. No shadows. Just Darcy.
As they set up for the first jam she looked up to the crowd and saw some signs with her name on them. She had never felt more alive.
5 “Excuse me?” the man at the counter said, “Are you really telling me that you’ve never heard of the Supernovas?”
Darcy gritted her teeth. “Honestly, dude, it doesn’t matter if I have or not. What I asked was whether or not you had any Aquabats.”
“But I can’t let you listen to that when you could be listening to the Supernovas.”
“I think you are missing what exactly your role is here. I came here looking specifically for a present for my brother, and I came to you to help me with it. In exchange, you should be telling me whether or not you have it, not making me want to leave because you won’t stop forcing your terrible bands on me.”
He stared at her in annoyance.
6 She imagined that this was what it must feel like at the center of a supernova. She had never felt so warm and alive and bursting. His simple confession wasn’t something she had ever expected, but it knocked the ice off her heart and had made her realize that she loved him too. She loved him in a consuming way that she hoped would eventually burn down to warm contentment and not eat them alive, but she couldn’t deny that his love had changed her and she could never go back to not knowing how this felt.
7 “You can’t use the supernova attack in this setting!” Steve said.
“I don't’ see why,” Darcy argued. “What’s stopping me?”
“Because that’s not how it’s supposed to be used.”
Darcy made a tsking noise at him. “Stevey, you can’t say that you want to follow the spirit of things here. You knew I was the type of person to always argue I was technically inside of the rules to do crazy shit when you asked me to join your game. So you either let me cast this or you kill me so I can go play with people that enjoy my unorthodox approach.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Roll please.”
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thirty-five-portland-row · 3 years ago
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Okay, so in this post I’m going to include the short story “the talk” which is in special edititions of Flashback, and probably going to explain why I hate Alden so much. Okay, I’ll get on to it now I guess.
“Lord Alden,” Lord Cassius said, dipping his head in what could barely count as a bow before he stepped aside to let Alden enter the Shores of Solace – aka his used-to-be-secret-getaway-though-no-one-actually-wanted-to-go-there-with-him home. “I thought the Council ordered all of you Vackers to the Tribunal Hall today for the big verdict. It’s all I’ve heard about these days. People do love a good scandal – and this is the best our world has seen in ages.
“The sentencing isn’t until this afternoon,” Alden explained, ignoring the rest of Cassius’s jab as he made his way towards the mother-of-pearl walls. His teal eyes looked rather impressed as they skimmed over the fancy furniture and enormous ocean-view windows – but his gaze softened when he focused on the blond boy sprawled across one of the couches. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
Keefe pulled himself to his feet, making sure to brush all the crumbs from the butterblast he’d snacked on for breakfast onto the otherwise pristine floor. “Is everything okay?”
Alden nodded. “But I’d love a quick word with you if you don’t mind. Perhaps somewhere a bit more private?”
“Or I can lock Lord Nosypants in a closet,” Ro offered, striding out of the shadowy corner flashing a pointy-toothed grin.
How the pink-haired, heavily armed ogre princess could make people forget she was in the room was one of life’s great mysteries.
“Let’s save that fun for later,” Keefe decided, leading Alden to the one place at his father’s house where he felt like he could breathe: a wide outdoor patio facing a glittering black sand beach. Cushioned swings swayed in the salty wind, and Alden sank into one of them, watching the turquoise waves crash against the shore long enough for Keefe’s brain to put together a pretty extensive list of scary things that might be happening.
Clearly Foster’s ever-worrying ways were rubbing off on him.
“Sooo…,” he said, dragging out the word as he plopped onto the swing next to Alden. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing bad,” Alden assured him. “I’m just hoping you’ll be willing to attend the tribunal today.”
Ro groaned. “Nooooooooo! Then I have to go, and everyone’s going to be all smug and sparkly and give boring speeches about how brilliant they are – and I’m not even allowed to stab anybody!”
Keefe ignored her. “I thought it was family only.”
“It was. But I’ve convinced the Council to make an exception, because Fitz is going to need a friend today.”
Yeah, that was kind of an understatement. Keefe was pretty sure Fitz was going to go into rage-monster mode if the Council gave Alvar anything less than a life sentence. And if Alden felt the need to bring in reinforcements…
Keefe slumped back against the cushions. “Does that mean you know –“
“What I know,” Alden interrupted, “is that I’m doing everything in my power to get my family through this.”
Which wasn’t really an answer.
“The thing is,” he added quietly. “my son is far more likely to listen to you than he is to me. Especially under the circumstances.”
“Okay, but if you’re looking for a voice of wisdom, you’d be better off asking someone who’s a bit more… shall we say, responsible?” Keefe felt the need to point out.
“I agree. Which is why I’ve arranged clearance for Sophie to attend as well.”
“Perfect!” Ro jumped in. “Then you don’t need us!”
“Actually, that’s why I do.” Alden’s eyes dropped to his hands, his fingers twisting the edge of his embroidered cape. “You and I both know, Keefe, that my son doesn’t necessarily excel at controlling his temper. And… I don’t think either of us wants to see him channel any of that anger at Sophie. So if you’re there –“
“Hang on.” Ro made a time-out gesture. “Are you seriously asking Keefe to be the punching bag during your pretty boy’s little temper tantrums?”
“Of course not! I’m asking an empath to watch for moments when his best friend is getting close to losing control of his emotions, and to keep him from saying or doing anything he’ll later regret.
“Or you could just leave our pretty little blond girl out of this one,” Ro reminded him.
“No, I can’t. Fitz… needs her.” His eyes shifted to Keefe, and there was something tentative about his expression.
Something nervous.
“He needs her,” he repeated gently, taking a long breath before he added, “I think you know that. And… I suspect you know how Sophie feels too.”
Unfortunately, Keefe did – and he was always trying hard not to think about it, because it made him want to punch things.
“Hate to break it to you guys,” Ro informed them, “but Blondie doesn’t know what she feels.”
“Perhaps not,” Alden conceded. “But that mostly has to do with the fact that my son has yet to make things clear. Once he does…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. Keefe was well aware of all the miserable mushiness he had ahead.
The hand-holding.
And cuddling.
And…
Ugh, if he had to watch them kiss, he was going to vomit all over his boots.
Alden placed his hand softly over Keefe’s, waiting for Keefe to meet his eyes before he told him, “I realize that all of this is… complicated for you, given how you feel about –”
“I’m just gonna stop you right there,” Keefe cut in, pulling his hand away and jumping off the swing. He paced to the far end of the patio, relieved that his legs pulled it off with some swagger. “Leave the feelings-reading to us Empaths, okay? Cause you’re wrong. Like, super, super wrong.”
“No, I’m not.”
Keefe was dying to ask him how he could be so sure – and if that meant Fitz had figured it out too. But that would mean admitting it, and the only way he was going to get through this conversation was to deny, deny, deny.
Alden sighed. “Sorry, I know this conversation is difficult – and I’m not trying to meddle –”
“Um, I’m pretty sure this is the definition of meddling,” Ro argued.
“No, it’s the definition of caring.” Alden stood and made his way closer, wrapping an arm around Keefe’s shoulders. “You may not be my genetic son,” he said quietly, “but I’ve long considered you part of my family.”
Keefe had to remind himself to breathe.
Part of him wanted to pull away and run. The other part wanted to lean back and see what it felt like to not have to stand on his own. But he was pretty sure that either way, he’d end up getting hurt.
So he just stood there, stiff and silent, watching the frothy water smooth the dark sand into a shiny, black canvas.
It wasn’t fair that the beach got so many do-overs.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” Alden murmured, “but long ago before I met Della, there was… another. Someone I was convinced was my perfect match – and the matchmakers agreed. But, as it turned out, she… preferred a close friend of mine.” He let the words hang there for a beat before he added, “So I’m no stranger to your situation, Keefe.”
“There’s no situation,” Keefe insisted.
“Maybe there isn’t. But I’m going to pass on some wisdom to you anyway. I’m a father. It’s what I do. And don’t worry, I’m not about to give you a long speech on how someday you’ll find your true match like I did – though you will.” He pulled Keefe slightly closer, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “The wisdom I want to give you is simply this: If you really care about them, let them be happy.”
Let them be happy.
Those words made Keefe want to vomit even more than the idea of Fitzphie smoochfests.
“I know,” Alden said gently. “Believe me, I undersand exactly how heartbreaking that is to hear. But take it from someone who ended up losing two valuable friendships. There’s only one way this ends –”
“Uh, no there isn’t!” Ro snapped. “We’re talking about teenagers! Stop acting like any of this is a done deal.” She waited for Keefe to meet her eyes before she added, “It isn’t.”
Alden sighed. “I suppose only time will tell. But that doesn’t change where we are today. Today, Sophie and Fitz are both going to need your help. So the question is, are you willing to be their friend?”
Keefe opened his mouth to answer, but Alden shook his head, drawing Keefe into a hug before he stepped away.
“That’s all I came here to say,” he said, pulling his pathfinder out of his cape’s inner pocket. “I hope I’ll see you at Tribunal Hall in a few hours. But I’ll leave that up to you. Think about what I’ve said, okay?”
Keefe managed a shaky not as Alden held the crystal up to the sunlight and glittered away.
“That guy’s got a lot of nerve,” Ro grumbled. “You know what that was, right? He’s trying to get you to back off so he can keep his spoiled son happy – and he’s totally using your daddy issues to make you play along!” She held out her arm, pretending she was wrapping it around an imaginary person’s shoulders. “I’ve long considered you part of my family – what a stinking load of garbage! He’s just trying to get rid of the competition. So what you need to do now is –”
“I’m going to the Tribunal,” Keefe interrupted.
Ro rolled her eyes. “Of course you are. That’s what you do – sabotage yourself over and over because it’s easier than putting yourself out there!
“I’m not sabotaging anything! Sophie’s not some prize that Fitz and I get to fight over. She’s a person. And she has her own feelings – and no one knows those feelings better than I do!”
Ro blinked, and he realized he’d shouted that super loud.
Loud enough that he was pretty sure his father had heard every word.
But it didn’t matter.
Lord Cassius wasn’t the type of person to go for a heart-to-heart.
Keefe’s hands curled into fists and he sucked in a deep, slow breath before he said, “I’m going to the tribunal. Because two of my friends are going to be there. And they’re going to need me. You can whine about it all you want. Or you can stay here…”
“Oh, I’m going,” Ro warned. “And there will be an abundance of whining.”
“Bring it on,” Keefe muttered, heading for his room to get changed. He tried to slam the door in Ro’s face, but the ogre princess had annoyingly fast reflexes and managed to block it with her elbow.
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your sulking. But just… promise me something, okay? Don’t give up.”
“I’m not,” Keefe said.
And he meant it.
He wasn’t giving up.
He was just… waiting.
Being the best friend he could be.
Trying not to wreck anything.
And hoping, hoping, hoping that someday things would change.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just really hate how manipulatactive alden was and how he also told Keefe to give up the love of his live for his entitled jerk of a son. ive ranted about this before on another post but this was just mainly to put the story out there for people who haven’t read it.
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imaramennoodle · 4 years ago
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Hey guys! Here’s part 1 for the kotlc the 100 au.
Tags (lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist): @vibing-in-the-void @everyonehasthoughts @clearlysokeefe @never-ever-too-many-fandoms
Part 1:
Sophie Foster sat bolt upright as the door to her cell clicked and slid open. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of her mom standing behind two guards.
Sophie’s mom, Edaline Foster, was the head doctor of the Ark. She was also part of the council. And when the council was involved, things hardly ever ended well.
A gaurd marched in and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Sophie’s wrist. She gasped.
“No! I’m not eighteen yet! I still have another year!” She struggled to escape. It was no use. Sophie was going to die. They were probably skipping the retrial and getting rid of all the criminals now, to save air. Sophie knew that they were running out. That had been why her dad was killed, because he had tried to tell people what was happening.
On the Ark, anyone who committed a crime, even the smallest one possible, like getting into a fight, was sentenced to death. If they were under the age of 18, they would be in prison until their eighteenth birthday, when there was a retrial to see if the criminal was guilty enough to be sentenced to death.
Sophie was marched outside of her cell. She twisted against the handcuffs and the guards holding her arms back.
She felt a needle go into her neck and started to feel dizzy. The last thing she saw was her mom whispering words that she couldn’t quite make out.
-
Sophie’s eyes snapped open. It was dark.
As her eyes adjusted, she realized that she was strapped into a chair, next to a girl with long, shiny black hair. Around them, there were others, all also sitting in chairs, confused.
A voice spoke over some kind of loudspeaker. It was Chancellor Endal. “I am sure that you are all confused about what is happening. My answer is this: All one hundred of you are being sent to the ground,”
There were surprised gasps and a few people started yelling about how they would die the moment they reached the surface.
“... on Mt. Weather,” the chancellor continued, “You will find enough supplies to last you three months. Good luck, and may we meet again.”
There was a click, and everyone was silent. Then, there was the sound of something powering on, and their tiny ship shot off of the Ark.
A boy with strawberry blonde hair had unbuckled himself from the harness and was now floating around the ship.
“What are you doing!” Sophie yelled, “That’s dangerous!”
The boy grinned.
“Hey, aren’t you the one that wasted a month’s supply of oxygen on an illegal spacewalk?” Sophie said.
He held up a thumbs up. “That’s me! Glad to know that I’m known everywhere.”
Suddenly, the ship went almost completely dark, the only light coming from a few emergency lights scattered around the ship.
Then, they crashed.
Sophie stood up and searched for the boy who had been floating around. If he was hurt, she was the closest thing that they had to a doctor. Sophie had been training to be one before she was arrested for knowing that the Ark was running out of air.
The boy had stood up and was now brushing off his shirt.
“You shouldn’t have done that. You could have died.”
He shrugged. “So what? When they sent us down here they basically sentenced us to death.”
A boy yelled something from near the huge door. Everyone’s heads turned to look at him.
A soft voice broke the silence. “Tam?” The girl who had been sitting next to Sophie elbowed her way towards the boy.
The boy’s face lit up and he pulled her into a hug. Sophie vaguely registered them as looking really similar to each other.
“You’re the Songs!” said someone from somewhere behind Sophie, “I’ve heard about you!”
“Yeah,” said the girl, who didn’t look very happy about it.
“Do you wanna be known for something else?” asked the boy.
“Like what?”
“Being the first girl on the ground in a hundred years.”
With that, the boy pressed the red button to open the door. It lowered down, and the girl uncertainly stepped onto it, and then onto the ground.
She stood in the sunlight for a few seconds before yelling, “We’re back!” at the top of her lungs.
Everyone took this as a sign to run out of the ship at once.
Sophie was the last one to leave. She picked up a map on her way out and made her way towards a ridge, where she held the map up and looked between it and the other mountains.
“Why so serious?” asked a boy with messy blond hair and a wrinkled shirt who had snuck up on Sophie.
“That’s Mt. Weather,” Sophie pointed to a mountain on the map, and then to the actual one, “They dropped us on the wrong mountain.”
-
Sophie was not happy to see Wylie. She hadn’t even expected to see him. He was the chancellor’s son, so he must have done something pretty serious to get sent to the ground.
Sophie was busy helping a girl bandage her broken arm when she first saw Wylie. He tried to apologize to her, but she just ignored him and walked away. After all, Wylie was the reason that her dad was dead and that she had been in prison for the past year.
She finished bandaging the girl’s arm. “You should be fine for a couple of days,” Sophie said. The girl smiled and walked away, leaving Sophie alone.
Fitz, a boy who Sophie had seen a couple of times in her Earth Skills class, wandered over to her. “You know where Mt. Weather is, right?”
Sophie nodded. “Yup. It’s just over there.” She tried to point towards it, but it was blocked by a group of trees.
“Great. Can you come with us to get some supplies from there?”
“Sure?”
Fitz led her to a small group that consisted of Dex, the boy who had floated around the ship, Keefe, who seemed to be Fitz’s best friend, and Linh, the girl with a brother.
Sophie unfolded the map and looked at it. “I think we have to go that way.” She pointed towards the forest, and the group set off for Mt. Weather.
They had been walking for thirty minutes before they got to the river. It looked perfectly normal, except there was no way to cross it.
Keefe pointed to a sign across the river that read ‘Mount Weather’ in large letters. “Look!”
Everyone turned to look at what he was pointing at.
“How are we supposed to get over?” asked Fitz.
“That’s easy,” Linh said, “We swim.”
She took off her shoes and socks and started to get in.
“Linh, no. You can���t even swim, and if you could, we have no idea if the water’s even safe. You could get radiation poisoning,” Sophie said, grabbing her arm and holding her back.
Linh twisted away. “I read somewhere that it’s human instinct to know how to swim, and besides, it doesn’t look too deep and I can see a couple of fish. I’ll be fine.” She jumped into the water.
“See! It’s perfectly fine. I’m not dead yet.”
Something dark slithered just under the surface of the water, behind Linh.
“Behind you!” yelled Keefe.
Linh didn’t pay attention until it was too late. The thing must have grabbed her leg, because she was yanked under the water and started trying to get away. Sophie’s eyes widened.
Keefe jumped in to try and get the thing away from Linh.
It must have worked, because after a few minutes, the splashing stopped and Keefe started pulling Linh towards the shore.
Fitz reached over and helped him pull her back up.
Linh coughed a couple of times and sat up on her elbows. Sophie sighed in relief. They had only been on the ground for a couple of hours, but four people had already died and Sophie would do pretty much anything to keep the rest of them alive.
Dex was standing a couple yards away. He called everyone else over. “We could probably swing across on this vine,” he said, “It looks pretty sturdy.”
“Who wants to go first?” asked Keefe. Nobody answered, so he shrugged and grabbed onto the vine.
Keefe got a running start, then jumped up onto the vine. When he got the the other side he let go and yelled “I made it!”
Sophie smiled at Keefe just before something came out of the woods behind their small group and hit him just under his ribs. Keefe collapsed
It was a spear. There were other people on the ground. 
-
Edaline Foster was in the area of the Ark where they were monitoring the 100 through metal wristbands that tracked things like blood pressure and heart rate.
A few of the many screens had gone dark, showing that someone was dead. Edaline scanned the remaining screens and let out a breath when she found Sophie.
Grady Ruewen, another member of the council, who also happened to not like Edaline very much, appeared behind her. “You’re needed in medical.”
Edaline nodded with a tight smile and walked back towards her job. Elwin, her assistant, went up to her.
“There’s a girl here who wants to know about the quarantine in the prison. Says she wants to see her boyfriend.”
The council hadn’t told people about the mission to the ground and had instead said that there was a virus outbreak in the prison and that nobody could visit anyone.
A girl with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail was standing in the waiting area. She walked up to Edaline.
“What was there an outbreak of?” the girl asked.
“Strep,” Edaline answered, “and no, there is no way for you to visit your boyfriend. It’s very contagious.”
“Really? Then why did I see a guard that was stationed there walking around just a few minutes ago? What did you actually do with my boyfriend?”
Edaline sighed. “You’re in engineering, right?”
The girl nodded. “Youngest zero-g mechanic in the history of the Ark. I’m Biana, by the way.”
“Good. Come with me.”
Biana rolled her eyes and followed Edaline.
Edaline led Biana towards an unused area of the ship, where the escape pods were kept. They hadn’t been used in a hundred years, but Edaline figured that Biana would be able to help her.
“Why did you bring me here? All that’s here is a couple of rusty old pods.”
“Because you’re going to help me get to the ground.”
Biana just looked at her. “Are you crazy? The ground isn’t supposed to be survivable for another 100 years!”
“I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but your boyfriend’s on the ground, along with 99 other criminals. My daughter, Sophie, is with them.”
Biana stared at Edaline for a minute. “You’re serious. Is Dex ok? Is the ground seriously survivable?”
“I don’t know, but right now, this pod is our only chance of getting down there. Can you fix it?”
“Yeah, but I’ll need a lot of new parts. This thing is ancient.”
“I can get the parts. Just worry about getting it to work.”
-
Sophie and Dex were the first to make it back to the clearing where the drop ship had landed. They were followed by Fitz and Linh.
Tam ran up to them. “What happened out there? Where’s Keefe?”
“We were attacked,” Dex said.
A few other people, including Wylie, had wandered over.
“By what?” Fitz asked
“Not by what, by who. Everything we thought we knew about the ground was wrong,” Sophie said.
“What do you mean, everything we know is wrong?” Tam asked.
“There are others out there. People. They threw a spear at Keefe and we don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”
“But we’re still gonna look for him, right?” asked Fitz.
Sophie nodded. “We’ll go tomorrow. Right now, we need to focus on finding food and setting up tents.”
-
Edaline was standing over Chancellor Endal, trying desperately to save his life.
One of the guards had found him laying in a hallway after being shot in the chest, and her and Elwin had been doing surgery on him for the past thirty minutes.
“He needs more blood,” Edaline said.
“We’ve already used more than we’re supposed to-“
“I don’t care!” Edaline said, cutting off Elwin, “We just need to make sure he lives long enough to see his son again.”
Elwin sighed. “Whatever you say.”
After they had finished, Edaline was sitting in the waiting area.
“How is he?” Grady, who was sitting a few feet away, asked.
“I don’t know. I hope he’ll be fine. I don’t want to deal with you as chancellor for any longer than I need to.”
Grady raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He was the acting chancellor, in case Chancellor Endal died or wasn’t able to be chancellor before the next election.
“We think we’ve found the person who shot him,” Grady said after a few minutes.
“Who?”
“Tam Song,” Grady said, holding out a tablet with a picture of a boy on it, “His sister, Linh Song, was sent the the ground along with the rest of the hundred, and he’s been reported missing from his job as a janitor.”
“So what, you think he shot the chancellor, snuck onto the drop ship, and went to Earth with them?”
Grady nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what we think.”
“You really think that a seventeen year old kid could have pulled that off?”
“Yes.”
Edaline stood up and left the waiting room. 
Biana was tinkering with the control panel of the pod when Edaline walked in. “Finally! I need a few new parts.”
She stopped talking when she saw Edaline’s face. “What happened?”
“Nothing. We just need to get this to work as fast as possible. What parts do you need?”
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jackielikestea · 4 years ago
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Jolly sailor boy ch 2
Fitzroy lightly dusted gold highlighter on his cheeks bones, noticing how it set off the purple of his cloak. He had grown into one of the most handsome men in town. He was now tall, with reddish brown hair, that he styled in curls. Golden honey eyes that was framed behind glasses, freckles on his nose and cheeks. He was broad shoulder and had muscles to spare.
“Snippers there’s no need to fret, Argo will love you.” Fitzroy told his familiar. A small crab who his magic tutor Festo told him that his familiar would help him control his magic.
Fitzroy had been doing well in Nua. He had stayed friends with Buckminster once they had landed and had been introduced to Leon who anyone with eyes could see that Buckminster had a crush on. But he had also introduced him to his two closest friends Rainer Michelle and a Firbolg. His mother finances flourish and they moved to upper class.
Argo had become Jackel’s ward as soon as they dock, but Argo had impressed Captain Eden with his amount of boat knowledge so young, so Argo could be found at the docks. Helping ships get ready to sail and a few times had set sail with them if the trip was short. Mostly though Argo could be found at Fitzroy’s house. Fitzroy had taken his job at Argo being his responsibility serious, even as they had gotten older you see one, you would usually see the other. Much to Jackel displeasure when trying to get Argo to excel in his rouge lessons.
And then Fitzroy received his knight hood and he started taking class at Clyde Nite Knight Night school. He was doing so well in his classes, he might have not have had friends per say, but who need them he had great friends back home.
He wrote Argo most often, telling him all about the classes he was taken and he occasionally got some back. Argo sent him letters while he was out to sea of his life out there and the adventures he went on. Argo was the first person he wrote about being kicked out and his responds was something he himself didn’t know he needed to hear. He told him that despite being kick out that didn’t stop him from him from being able to reach his goals. To find a way to control his magic and get back out. He was the first person who told him that his magic wasn’t a mistake. When Fitzroy’s mother never asked why he needed so much money for stationary she knew that the boys had a strong bond. Argo when they were sixteen once when swore to the seas, the stars, and Fitzroy’s own mother that he would protect Fitzroy.
“Well don’t you look especially gorgeous today.” Rainer said as her chair came into view and Fitzroy jump from where he was sitting at his balcony.
“Rainer!” Fitzroy said startled.
“And Firbolg.” The Firbolg said from behind Rainer.
“Yes, hello Master Firbolg. Rainer are you trying to suggest that I don’t always look my best?” Fitzroy asked.
Rainer had light brown skin with long, silky, blonde hair. She was wearing a beautiful green dress and her chair floated above the ground. She, Fitzroy, and the Firbolg were probably the closest platonically of the group. She was the coolest person Fitzroy had ever met when she wasn’t teasing him about his crush.
“I’m just wondering if your well fitted purple cloak, gold glitter, and perfectly done curls has anything to do with the fact that our handsome sailor friend is docking today.” Rainer said while she smirked.
Fitzroy cheeks darken and turned his face back to the mirror. “Why Rainer I thought your crush on me had past.” He quip back.
Rainer laughed. “Fitzroy you know I’ve never been the jealous type and that I haven’t had a crush on you in seven years.”
“Well won’t the ladies of this city be happy to hear that.” He muttered.
“We will be run-ning late, to meet Buckminster if we don’t hurry, yes?” The Firbolg asked.
“Yes how right you are right Master Firbolg. Let’s head out now just let me grab one thing.”
As Firbolg and Rainer made their way outside the house Fitzroy went back to the kitchen, his mother was at work already, so no one saw him grab a lemon and tuck it into his cloak.
As he walked along side his two compatriots Rainer bumped his arm with her shoulder and whispered. “I’m sure Argo will think you look absolutely stunning, especially with the eight inches you grew.”
Fitzroy gave her a playful glare but stood up to his full 6’4 height. A spell he was trying to cast had a backlash and he grew eight inches. He knew he was going to be taller than Argo by probably a good four inches and he couldn’t help but be excited to see his reaction.
Buckminster seemed to appear out of nowhere and join the group exchanging brief hellos as they made their way to the port. Buckminster was around Fitzroy originally height before Fitzroy’s magic back lashed. He had blond hair and the lightest of gray eyes. He dressed in a common way even though his father was a captain. He always said it was to help him blend in since he was a rouge, but Argo never stuck to that rule. He chose instead to dress more like a sailor.
“Buckminster, are you excited to see your father.” Firbolg asked.
“I’m more excited to see Leon, I can’t believe father asked him to come to sea with him.” Buckminster said.
“Well, Argo has gone with him every since he was sixteen.” Fitzroy reminded.
“Argo has also been able to work on a boat since he was ten. My father asked Leon to go because of his strength.” Buckminster fired back.
Fitzroy smiled at the memory of a ten year old Argo once he had started to feel better he almost immediately started to help around on the ship to Captain Eden delight and his horror. Fitzroy spent days fussing at Argo that he should rest.
“Your just upset that your father wanted Argo to come work for him instead of you.”
Fitzroy taunted.
“Please if anything I feel bad for Argo, he’s the one who has to work for my father.” Buckminster shrugged.
Buckminster’s father was a hard man to please, but Argo had never complained about working for him.
As the party made their way down the dock they waved at a few sailors who had called out to them before they made it to The Painted Lady, Captain Eden’s ship.
Men and a few women were making their way down a plank holding cargo that they were unloading.
“Look there’s Leon!” Rainer pointed.
Leon was a tall, strong, man. Handsome, with dark skin and darker hair that he keep short to keep cool. He was the oldest in the group of friends, but the most soft spoken even compared to the Firbolg.
“Leon, oh Leon! Come over here.” Buckminster yelled.
Fitzroy shot Rainer and Firbolg a look over his shoulder.
Leon looked over at them and quickly put down the crate he was carrying and hurried over to them.
As soon as he made it over to the party Buckminster rushed forward and hugged him then quickly pulled back as if he realized what he had done.
“Hello Leon, how was it?” Buckminster asked trying to not seem so embarrassed.
“Hey, hi everyone. It was good. He shrugged as he looked at the rest of the group.
“Hello Leon, good to hear your job went so well.” Fitzroy said.
“Hello friend, Leon.” The Firbolg said as he gave wave.
“Leon it’s great to see you!” Rainer said excited as she gave him a warm hug.
“So where is Argo and my father?” Buckminster asked as Rainer let go of Leon.
“Oh I think your father is on the main deck handing out pay, Argo is probably in the chart room.” Leon said as he looked down towards Buckminster.
“Chart room?” Fitzroy asked.
Leon smiled. “Who do you think did most of the steering?”
Shock and delight ran through their minds at the thought of one of their friends getting to do something he loves.
“Speaking of.” Leon said drifting off as he turned his head looking as Argo made his way off the ship.
Argonaut Keene walked down the plank his long dark blue hair pulled up in a ponytail. He was tall, lean, with blue skin and scales that would catch the sunlight, handsome even with his newly grown handlebar mustache. His white shirt had long sleeves that were loose so that if he lifted his arms even a little the would show off his tattoos. He wore brown jompers and dark brown leather boots.
Argo looked around the dock and locked eyes with the group, he smiled as he looked at each one of them, but when his eyes met Fitzroy’s he seemed stunned.
“Leon, you forgot your grab your pay.”
Argo said as he walked over to the rest of the group.
He handed a bag of gold and sliver pieces to Leon.
“Argo! That mustache, you look great!” Rainer said.
Rainer speaking seem to snap Fitzroy back to attention. “Well it certainly is better than that goatee you grew when we were younger.” He said.
“Did you get taller Fitz?” Argo asked his cheeks turning a faint purple color.
“Eight inches, and it Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Knight in absentia of the realm GoodCastle! You know this Argonaut.” Came Fitzroy reply.
“Alright Sir Knight. How has everyone been?” Argo asked.
“Pretty good, Argo you must see what I’ve been working on.” Rainer said.
“Oh gods, no.” The Firbolg muttered.
“That sounds wonderful, Rainer.” Argo said.
“It’s really not, now I’m sure Leon and Argo want to go home a rest a bit and I need to speak to my father. So why don’t we meet for dinner later at the Siren Café, and catch up?” Buckminster asked.
“That would be great actually, I need to meet with Jackel.” Argo answered.
“I would love that.” Rainer smiled.
“Sounds good to me.” Firbolg said.
“Well if everyone is agreeably.” Fitzroy said a clasp his hands together.
—-
A few hours later the party was sitting at the Siren Café, Buckminster and Leon were running late.
“Calm down Fitz, I’m sure there is a good reason.” Argo reassures him as he sips on his lemonade. A skeleton squirrel set next to him with a jelly bean in its paws, Argo was trying to ignore it.
“It was his idea to met here.” Fitzroy reminded him and took a sip of his sweeten tea. He made a gesture with his hand for Argo to continue with his story.
“Well I did most the steering and navigating there and back so I didn’t interact much with the crew, but Captain helped me out a lot with it. He asked me a lot about about you guys.” Argo smiled at Fitzroy and took out the lemon that Fitzroy had given him earlier.
“We grew up with around him though.” Rainer said.
“Yeah, but I got Fitzroy’s letter about his magic, while I was out at sea.” Argo told her.
“You talked about me to the Captain Eden?” Fitzroy asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, of course.” He told Fitzroy softly. “He asked about the rest of you guys as well.”
“Well, that is niiice of Captain Eden to let you navigate.” The Firbolg said.
“Yeah really nice! Oh look there are those two now.” Rainer said as she lifted her glass to where Buckminster and Leon walked through the door.
Leon had changed into nicer clothes, while Buckminster was still in the same outfit as before. They made their way over to the rest of the group.
“Sorry were late, but I have fantastic news.” Buckminster said.
“Well sit down so we can order, and tell us.” Fitzroy said.
As they set down the waitress Zana walked up. “Hey guys, let me guess. Cod for Buckminster, eggs over easy for Leon, pizza for the lovely Rainer.” Zana said with a smiled and winked at Rainer. “Of course crepes for Fitzroy, nacho cheese berries for the Firbolg, and sourdough bread and a orange for Argonaut. Welcome back.” She touched his shoulder.
“That sounds perfect Zana, thank you.” Rainer smiled brightly at her and the woman blushed as she took the orders back to the kitchen.
“Still a flirt I see Rainer.” Argo joked.
“Your just upset because I know how to flirt with the people I like.” Rainer gave Argo a look that made him look away and blushed.
“What is the big news Buckminster?” Firbolg asked.
“There is going to be a party for my father’s return and you lot are all invited.” Buckminster said then turned to Leon and started fussing with Leon’s shirt. “We’re going to have to buy you a dress shirt.”
“What about you?” Leon asked him is a soft voice. “What will you wear?”
“Oh how delightful, Firbolg can wingman for me.” Rainer said.
Argo nodded, and looked over at Fitzroy. “What do you say Fitz?”
Fitzroy look back at Argo. “You know I love a good party.”
——
Argo walked Fitzroy home. There hands brushing on occasion. As they walked up Fitzroy’s front stairs Argo stop to touch Dendra’s hibiscus bushes, they were a pink and yellow in color and in full bloom.
“So I take it I’ll see you before this party.” Fitzroy said.
Argo stepped closer and Fitzroy swore that Argo had the most beautiful eyes in Nua, if not the entire world. Argo looked up at Fitzroy his big, deep blue eyes peeked out beneath long, dark lashes. He tilted his head so it rested on a support beam.
“Aye you will. I really wish I could have been here, with you Fitz, especially after what happen at you at that Knight school.” Argo told him.
Fitzroy’s golden eyes couldn’t break away from Argo’s at his sweet submission.
“You’re here now though, that’s what I want to focus on.” Fitzroy told him.
Argo reaches up and touched one of the perfect curls by Fitzroy ear.
“I’ll come by tomorrow.” Argo promised as he dropped his hand. “Night Fitz.”
“Goodnight Argonaut.” Fitzroy said as he watched Argo walked down the stairs and down the street.
Fitzroy slipped through the front door and went to his room he caught a glanced of himself in the mirror and saw that Argo had put the hibiscus flower in his hair.
He touched the flower lightly. His cheeks turning red. “Oh how I’ve missed you.” He whispered as he gently put the flower in a glass of water.
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cassnottiel · 4 years ago
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LAST ONE I PROMISE, a s5 au where owen shaw is somehow alive and kicking but he's kind of a super asshole? like his wife died and he shut down via john winchester type? and hes a super asshole to deke too? and fitzsimmons, especially after finding out deke is their grandson, r not here for it and r just hella badass
Melinda May woke up in an unknown place, with the man who sent them to the future standing over her.  She groaned and sat up.  "Where are we?"  She asked, then looked past the man (Enoch, she remembered) at the very familiar logo painted on the wall.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  "The Zephyr.  How?  What is going on?"
"They grabbed us just in time."  Enoch said in his halting, not quite natural sounding voice.  "Anchored us against the gravity storm."
"Who?"  May asked.  Enoch looked behind him, and she followed his gaze to watch two people, both their faces covered, entered whatever room they were in.  She hastily stood up, poising herself for a fight, should one break out.  
But she stopped as an old woman walked in behind the two, smiled at May, held out a small wooden bird, and said:  "I've waited such a long time to see you again."
Robin Hinton.  Her father was an Inhuman who could made people see how they died when they touched him.  She gestured for May to follow, and she started walking.  May did her best to limp after, all the way to the cockpit.  What should have been a short walk felt like Hell on her injured leg.
Sunlight shone through the windows of the Zephyr as Robin and May sat next to the controls.  The plane was a mess, but the power was still working.
"How are you here?"  May asked when they both had sat down.
Robin didn't answer right away.  She stared blankly up at a wall for several long seconds.  "There's something else I need to remember . . ." she muttered to herself, then her eyes focused and she looked at May again.  "Sorry.  What did you ask?"
May sighed.  "How are you even here?"
Robin smiled.  "I told you we'd survive the crash."  She said it she was repeating it for the thousandth time.
"The crash?"  May was not understanding in the slightest.  "I'm not sure I know what you're--"
"Don't be put out if you can't follow Robins train of thought."  May looked over at the two men who approached.  One looked vaguely familiar, the other did not.
"It's like her life is a deck of cards shuffled out of order."  The other man tried to explain.  "She's a seer, but nowadays she can't separate past, present, and future."
"My name is Samuel Voss," the first man said, then jerked his head to the side at the other man, "and this is Owen Shaw.  Sorry for the rough rescue, but you have to act fast when gravity storms start kicking up."
"Shaw?"  May asked as she shook their hands.  "Do you happen to have a kid?"
Owens frowned in confusion.  "You've met Deke?  He's alright down there?"
"He's alive."  May said.  "He didn't make a great first impression with me."  She held up her wrist, showing off the metric Deke had stabbed into her.  She let her hand drop when she noticed the others on the Zephyr covering themselves with spare cloth and picking up the large claw devices.  "You're going back out?"
"Yeah, my crew is gonna go out and collect your friends."  Voss smiled as Owen started walking away.
"Wait.  They made it to the surface?  How do you know?"  May limped forward in earnest.  
Voss looked at Robin.  "She told me.  A decade ago."  A loud explosion sounded in the sky, and May whipped her head around to look out the window.  A Trawler was falling, and fast.  "Don't worry.  Robin told me they survive this crash, too."  Voss said, then walked over to talk to his crew.
- - -
"Is everyone alright?"  Coulson yelled as soon as his head stopped ringing from the crash.  He got a response of pained and annoyed groans from four different voices, so he took that as four 'yes's.
"We should get out before something happens to the ship."  Fitz shakily stood from his seat.
"Are you kidding?"  Deke stumbled into the cockpit.  "Go out into the roach infested planet without protection?"
"What else are we supposed to do?"  Daisy snapped at him.  "Stay in here and wait for everyone else to come get us?"
"There has to be a sustainable shelter out there."  Simmons said, looking out the front window.  "At least an atmosphere, if people have survived down here."
"I just crashed a spaceship, what if the engine explodes?"  Coulson stood up and leaned over the controls to look out the window.
"These things are built to take damage, it'll be fine."  Deke leaned against the back of Daisys seat.
"What's that?"  Simmons pointed out at the landscape.  Everyone followed her gaze and watched as a line of small figures started getting closer.
"It's like a line of ants."  Daisy squinted to see better.  "Do you think those are the people?"
"Maybe . . ."  Fitz trailed off.  
"Are those Vrell-Nexians?"  Coulson asked, and everyone looked at Deke for an answer.
Deke shook his head.  "No, they're moving too slow.  And just call them roaches like everyone else."
"What should we do, sir?"  Simmons asked Coulson.
Coulson looked at Daisy.  "We should stay in here and wait for them to come to us.  They seem to know their way around."
So they waited.  They watched the sun move from behind the Trawler to in front of it.  
Deke stood up and put on his space helmet when the line of people were almost at the ship.
"What are you doing?"  Coulson stood up and blocked the ladder.
"I'm going out to meet them."  Dekes voice was slightly muffled from inside the helmet.  "I'll be back."  Coulson grabbed his arm.  Deke took his helmet off and glared.  "What do I have to gain by abandoning you guys here?"
That was a fair point.  Coulson let go, and the S.H.I.E.L.D agents watched Deke climb up the ladder and heard howling winds when he opened the hatch on the ceiling.  They watched through the window as Deke approached the people, exchanged words, and took an offered duffel bag from them.  He started floating back up to the Trawler, and the four agents heard a pair of feet make a heavy landing on the roof.  
The hatch opened, and the duffel bag dropped in, followed by Deke.  "Put those on."  He told them.  "They're taking us to their base, May's there already."
There were coats, cloaks, cloth scraps, and goggles in the bag.  Everyone started layering their clothes, covering up any exposed skin.  The five of them walked with the group of True Believers for a long time.  The sun had set, and the constellations of the night sky made themselves visible.
"Nobody knows these people are alive?"  Simmons said over the wind, holding tight to Fitz.
"People were sent here as a death sentence."  Deke explained.  "Even I thought they were dead."
The Zephyr was right in front of them.  "Why doesn't Kasius send for the bodies to be recovered?"
"No, you don't understand."  Deke said, walking inside and waiting for the scientists.  "They're not just dead.  As far as everyone in the Lighthouse is concerned, everybody that came up here was torn to scraps."  He took off his helmet and took in his surroundings.  "But they're all still alive and living in an actual airplane."  
"Fitz," Jemma took off her gloves and looked around, "your design really withstood the test of time."
Deke turned around and stared at the scientists.  "Wait, you designed this?"  His awe was genuine.  "I can't imagine what it must have been like to f--"
"Deke?"  
The man in question looked past FitzSimmons and gasped softly.  "Dad."  Deke smiled and took off running.
Owen Shaw welcomed his son with open arms, hugging him tightly as soon as he was close enough.  "Deke!  Thank God you're safe."
Deke laughed happily.  "I missed you so much."
"How did you end up tagging along with these people?"  Owen pulled away from the hug and glanced at the scientist, then did a double take and stared at them.
Deke smiled.  "It's a long story, I can tell you . . ." he frowned and followed his fathers line of sight.  "Dad?  What's wrong?"
Owen shrugged his son away and stepped closer to FitzSimmons, seething fury flashed across his face.  "You two?  What the Hell are you two doing here?"
"Dad!"  Deke grabbed his fathers arm.  "That's Fitz and Simmons, they're the--"
"I know who they are!"  Owen shoved Deke back and continued stalking towards the engaged couple.  The rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D team had run in to see what was happening.  Fitz stepped in front of Simmons protectively.  "You taught Alya everything she knew.  You're the reason they killed her!"  Owen pointed accusingly at the two.  Voss ran in and tried to restrain Owen, who struggled and continued yelling.  "And now you're going to get my son killed!"  
"Dad, calm down!"  Deke looked shocked, but he still put himself between his father and his new companions.  "What are you--?"
Owens arms were pinned down to his sides by Voss, so when he lashed out, he kicked.  And he kicked Deke right where the Kree had stabbed him.  
As Deke stumbled back and hit the floor, Coulson ran forward and punched Owen with his bionic hand.  Owen went limp.  For a long minute, the only sounds on the Zephyr were the sounds on the outside.  
"What the Hell."  Fitz was the first one to speak.
Deke grunted as he pulled himself up from the floor.  Voss rushed forward to help.  Deke looked at Fitz and Simmons like he was seeing completely different people.  
"I'm sorry."  Voss said breathlessly.  "He's never done anything like that before."
Simmons frowned.  "Who's Alya?"
Deke leaned against the wall and pressed his hand against his stab wound.  "My mother."  He blinked a few times.  
"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"  Daisy looked between everyone, just as confused as everyone else.  Nobody had an answer for that.
"Let's get him somewhere he won't hurt anyone else when he wakes up."  Coulson pointed to Owens unconscious body.  Two of Voss' crew members immediately jumped in and started dragging him to the lockers.  "You two, get to medical."  Coulson pointed to Daisy, then to Deke, who coughed and winced.  They both followed the order without objection.
After everyone else on the plane had gone off to keep themselves busy, Voss spoke to FitzSimmons.  "I didn't want to say this in front of Deke and the others."  He lowered his voice and looked to Simmons.  "But you do look a lot like Dekes mom."
Fitz and Simmons shared a confused look, then turned back to Voss.  "What?"
"Alya was kind of like a doctor in the Lighthouse," Voss started to explain, "you know, helping people who were sick or injured.  Her mother was a real doctor and taught her everything."  He looked at the floor solemnly.  "The Kree killed her when Deke was nine."
"What are you saying?"  Fitz asked quietly.
"I think you two are Alyas parents."  Voss told them plainly.  "You definitely look like them, just younger."
"And that would make us Dekes grandparents."  Simmons muttered.  She looked in the direction of medical.  "He's hurt, I should check on him."
Voss watched her go and spoke after a few seconds of silence.  "You guys are taking that news pretty well, despite everything."
"We're dealing with a lot right now," Fitz started following his fiance, "just wait until the shock wears off."
- - -
"I can't believe they stabbed you."  Daisys voice floated out from where the lab used to be.  
A male voice hissed in pain.  "I guess I kind of deserved it, after what I did."  Jemma stopped outside the door and took a deep breath.  "Coulson and May both punched me."
"I think I can put off being mad at you until you resolve whatever's going on with your dad."  Daisys voice was quieter, as if she was concentrating.  "Do you know what that was?"
"I have no idea."  Dekes voice answered.  "He's never done that before."
Jemma opened the door and walked in.  Deke was sitting on a table, holding the hem of his shirt up while Daisy did her best to change the bandage over the stab wound.  They both looked up as Jemma entered.
"Thank God, I'm not good at this."  Daisy stepped back.
Jemma knelt down in front of Deke and bandaged his wound the best she could with the limited supplied.  The silence was very awkward.  
"I'm sorry."  Deke blurted out suddenly.  "I didn't know he was going to do that."
"It's not your fault."  Jemma reassured with a small smile.  She wouldn't bring up what Voss said, not in front of the team.  She stood up after she finished working.  "Don't do anything too strenuous, you could hurt yourself more."
"Thanks."  Deke nodded and stood up.  "I'm going to talk to my dad, see if he's calmed down."
"Be careful."  Jemma called after him.
Deke passed Fitz in the hallway, who watched him with weary eyes.  Deke shrugged it off and explored the Zephyr.  He found his father near the bunks, locked in what looked like a cage full of personal belongings.
Owen blinked up at his son.  "Deke?  What happened?"
"You saw Fitz and Simmons and you freaked out.  You said they're the reason Mom died, and they were trying to kill me."  Deke crossed his arms.  "What was that about?"
Owen sighed and leaned against the chain link door.  "If your grandparents hadn't taught your mother everything they did, she would still be alive."  He said bitterly.  "The Blues killed all the smart people, and they're the reason she was that smart."
Dekes eyes widened.  "They're my grandparent?"
Owen nodded, looking even more bitter.  "If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be living in the Lighthouse."
Deke blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "You're telling me . . ." he sighed and looked up, "Nana and Bobo caused the Earth to break apart?"
"No, not just them."  Owen rolled his eyes.  "Their whole team.  S.H.I.E.L.D."
Deke did not understand what his father was saying.  "So why did you--" something behind Owen caught his eye.  "What's that?"
Owen looked, and quickly snatched up the white rock his son was staring at.  "This is how we got them here."
"So that's why you kept it."  Deke grabbed a set of keys off the wall and started fumbling with the lock.  "That's how we get them back.  I saw the time machine, we need to give it to them."
"Deke, they're not going back."  Owen said, pushing the door open.
"What do you mean?"  Deke frowned.  "They have to.  How else are they supposed to prevent all this?"  He gestures around the room.
"They cause all this."  Owen stepped forward, out of the locker.  "If we keep them here, they don't go back and break the planet."
Deke stared.  "You just told me two of them are my grandparents and now you're telling me they can't leave?"  He held his hand out.  "Give that to me.  They're going back."
Owen sighed.  "I really wish you would make this easier for me.  But, I guess some things just run in the family."
Deke took a careful step back.  "What--?"
Owen slammed the white rock against his sons head.  Deke grunted and fell to the floor, but he was still conscious.  Owen grabbed him by the front of his jacket and dragged him into the locker, closing the door and locking it.  "Your mother told me trouble wasn't genetic.  I guess she was wrong."
As Owen started walking down the hallway, leaving the white rock on the floor, Deke sat up and blinked rapidly to clear his vision.  He had to get out.
He looked up at the ceiling, to clear his confusion more than anything else, and he saw a gap between the top of the fence and the roof of the plane.  About a foot and a half, he could make it.
Deke turned the knob on his belt buckle, and he started floating.  He squeezed through the gap above the fence, then dropped to the floor.  He picked up the rock and started walking as quietly as he could, despite his listing to the side.
Somehow, he made it to the lab without running into anyone.  Unfortunately, there were two people men guarding the door.  "Can, uh . . ." Deke blinked and tried his best to point to the door.  "Can I get-get through?  I think I'm--"
"Deke?"  The handle to the door was jiggled, but it did not open.  "What's going on?"
Deke swallowed thickly and felt something warm drip down the side of his neck.  The two guards looked concerned and one stepped forward to help.  Deke took off his belt buckle, shoved it into the other man, turned the control setting once, then twice, and the other man went flying to the opposite wall.  The other guard drew a knife and brandished it at Deke.
"Deke!"  Fitz yelled through the door.  "What's happening?!"
Coulson and May rounded the corner, saw one man stuck to a wall, saw another man holding a knife, and heard Fitz yelling and banging on a door.  They both ran forward to help Deke, who was definitely in no shape to fight.
As May and Coulson took the fight, Deke moved forward, unlocked the door, and stepped into the lab.  He looked over Fitz and Simmons' worried faces.  "I'm guessing Dad didn't really make a good first impression with the in-laws."
"What happened?"  Jemma immediately ran up to Deke.  He held up the white rock, spotted with blood.
"What is it?"  Fitz took the rock.
"He said--" Deke coughed.  "He said it's how you-you got, um, got here."
"It's part of a monolith."  Jemmas face dawned with realization before she looked back to the head injury.  "Who did this to you?"
Deke slumped over, finally falling unconscious.
"Here."  May appeared in the doorway and tossed the gavatonium belt buckle to the scientists.  "We'll take care of everyone else."
Fitz nodded, then turned to his grandson on the floor.  "Do you think he'll be okay?"
Jemma sighed.  "I told him not to do anything too physical, but I'll let this one slide."  She looked closer at the wound.  "It's not bleeding too much, he probably wasn't hit very hard if he stayed awake afterward."
"Do you think he know?"  Fitz asked, examining the monolith piece.  "He called us 'the in-laws.'"
"I doubt he doesn't"  Jemma started cleaning the blood off of Dekes head.  "Who do you think did this to him?"
"Wasn't he going to his father?"  Fitz asked.  The couple made eye contact.
Jemma clenched her hands into fists and stood up.  "I'm going to kill him.  Who would do something like that to their own child?"
"A man trying to keep his son safe."  The scientists turned to the door.  Owen Shaw was holding a hammer.  
"Funny way of showing it."  Fitz grabbed a heavy wrench and stepped in front of Deke and Jemma.
"I couldn't have him getting in the way."  Owen said.
"So you hit him over the head with a rock?"  Jemma seethed.  She picked up a screwdriver from the table next to her and threw it at Owen.
Owen watched the screwdriver and easily dodged it.  "What was that sup--?"
Fitz punched him.  "Deke definitely gets his intelligence from us."
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the-hidden-writer · 4 years ago
Text
An Odd Family Tree
A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.
Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.
Comments make my day!
Chapter 25: Grandson
“Bobo! Nana, Bobo, look at me!”
It was Deke’s first time in Scotland. Technically, it was his second time, but he was barely a few months old the first time and that visit had only been brief. But Alya and Owen had put their heads together and arranged a two-week-long retreat to Inverness, where they used to live.
Her old home.
Scotland wasn’t always lucky when it comes to weather, but there were a couple of days in the Summer- days that were the gems of the year. That day was one of them.
The five of them had assembled in the front garden to spend the day outside and have a picnic on the grass. Owen had kindly brought out two of the dining room chairs for Fitz and Jemma to sit on (they couldn’t manage to sit on the ground anymore but didn’t want to be left out) while himself and Alya sat on an old picnic blanket they’d found in one of the wardrobes.
And Deke, the little daredevil, had decided to use his time wisely and climb Jemma’s prize Acer tree.
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Jemma called, squinting at her grandson’s proud pose in the sunlight. From her perspective, his silhouette made him look like a superhero.
“Get down from there!” Said Fitz. “You’ll fall off and break your leg and I’m not gonna make that trip to the hospital.”
Deke somehow perceived that statement as a command to start jumping up and down on the branch.
Immediately, Owen jumped up and caught him before he had the chance to fall. “That’s enough of that for one day, little dude.”
Deke pouted. “Awww.”
“Play on the ground now Deke, okay?” Alya instructed, rubbing her son’s back.
“Okay.”
It didn’t take long for him to get over his sulk, because seconds later he was literally chasing a butterfly that had just wanted to inspect one of the many exotic flowers in the garden.
“I can’t get over how big he’s gotten.” Jemma commented as a seemingly intrigued Deke stared into one of the large bushes that acted as a barrier around the perimeter of the front garden.
Alya smiled with pride. “Have you noticed how much better his speech is?” She asked. “Staying in year 1 has really worked out for him.”
Fitz laughed softly. “His face is starting to shape up now, too. And I’ll be honest, I never would have thought-”
Suddenly, there was a loud rustling sound and a robin flew out of the bush that Deke had been peering into. He jumped back, as startled as the robin, and pointed at it with wide eyes.
“What was that?” He asked curiously.
Fitz waved it off, trying to hide his annoyance at getting interrupted. “It was probably just a squirrel. Hey Deke, did you know you can find red squirrels in Scotland?”
Deke shook his head but was visibly intrigued. “Really? I didn’t know. That’s so cool! Are there more colours, Bobo?”
Without warning, Jemma stood up and threw a shaking hand over her mouth to muffle a cry. She went back inside the cottage as quickly as she could.
Fitz, Alya, Owen, and even Deke watched her go in shock.
It took a few moments of silence before Fitz spoke up.
“I’ll go, stay here.” He instructed, making his own way inside.
He found his wife hunched over the kitchen table, crying. “Jemma! Jemma, what’s wrong?”
A teary-eyed Jemma looked up at him desperately. “It was him. I didn’t realise it, b-but… he was Deke. Our little baby Deke.” She sobbed.
Realisation began to dawn upon Fitz. A horrible, horrible realisation, but he didn’t want to think about it. Not yet.
“What do you mean?” He asked quietly, knowing exactly what she meant.
“Just look at him.” She tried to explain. “The way he talks, the way he acts… even his personality is exactly the same, he was-” she took a breath to try and calm herself- “he was Deke that whole time. He was our grandson. And we treated him like-”
“What are you talking about?”
Both Jemma and Fitz froze upon seeing Alya standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, but her expression was one of concern.
Jemma gulped down her tears. “Alya, I-”
“No, don’t backtrack.” Alya said as she walked towards them, face hardening. “I’m sick of all this secrecy. I’ve sneaked a look into that drawer before, so don’t pretend like it doesn’t exist. I just want the truth.”
She circled the table and ended up facing her parents. Her parents who knew that their daughter was a genius and that she had already put two and two together. They knew there was no going back.
“So please, just tell me once and for all… who did I name my son after?”
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ot5ismyhome · 4 years ago
Text
Bloodbound chapter 6- Creature of the Shadows
Introduction
The day that changed Pietro’s life wasn’t a day. It was a night. He got a phone call on that fateful night which made him abandon his twin during the celebration dinner for her new job. He had been called to a crime scene for investigation. That one incident determined his course of action.
It’s been three months since the night Pietro saw the mangled body. Still they were not close to solving the case than they were that night. There had been many talks in the base what could have killed that man but most of them were just plain crazy. But crazy had been his life since joining the secret organisation, Special Threat Assessment for Known Extranormalities but they usually went by the name S.T.A.K.E.  The agency dealt with extreme and weird cases in the city. He had come across weird cases while filing the reports but this was his first field work.
Nothing can be said about the case for sure till they receive a forensic report. It has to be a beast gone rogue, Pietro thought. The bite marks and the ripping matched an animal’s jaw than a knife. But it didn’t make any sense. An animal barely wanders into a big city; that too a rouge one is very rare and weird. It’s weirder that it still has not been spotted by anyone.
Pietro made his way to the lab to collect the report. He entered the lab and he saw Fitz working on his laptop.
The night flashed in front of Pietro’s eyes. Fitz-Simmons were there to collect evidence. Pietro talked with the local police saying S.H.I.E.L.D will take over the case. The police looked at him suspiciously but grumbled an agreement. We need a believable name he thought as he entered the secured area. He saw the two scientists make their way, down the alley, to the death body. He followed them. At the end of the alley, his eyes settled on the dead body for the first time. It wasn’t like anything he had seen before. The road below it was dark maroon. The blood that had pooled around the body has dried away. It looked like gummy red substance now. He saw Fitz cringe his face as he looked at the unidentifiable body. But Simmons didn’t seem to mind it. She set onto work. Once they had finished, they vacated the scene.
Pietro asked for the report to Fitz. He was searching through the files in the shelf when Simmons came out of the wet lab talking, “Fitz, did you decrypt the radio signal we picked up last week. Agent Hand thinks that it might have to do with Dr. Banner’s disappearance. The last location of Dr. Banner and the signal have been picked within 1-mile radius.” She didn’t notice Pietro, she continued, “The case has been moved to top priority. We have a meeting with Agent Hand at 2:30” she ranted on in her British accent.
After she finished talking, she noticed that Pietro was in the room. “Sorry. I didn’t see you there. How can we help you?”
“He is here for the report of feral case. I can’t find the file” Fitz said throwing up his hand in defeat.
Simmons searched the shelf again and Fitz stood looking at her with his hand on his hips.
“Here it is” she said as she took a file and handed it to Pietro. Pietro thanked her and left. On his way to the debriefing room, he opened the file. The first paper had a photo of the body attached to it.
The image of the body had never felt his mind. Seeing, the carcass and the blood took him to that night again. A pungent rotting smell of decaying flesh hit him even before he walked into the scene. Suddenly, in the corridor he smelled the decaying flesh. His nostrils flared up and he could smell it everywhere. Pietro closed the file breathing shakily. His hands trembled and he felt the room closing in on him. He entered the nearby washroom. He balanced himself in the sink and tried to breath regularly. He had seen his fair share of dead bodies but nothing compared to the state of the body in this case. A shiver ran down his spine. He thought to himself that he would never get over this case.
The days passed by. Handling technical issues, writing reports and transporting criminals filled his life. The animal attacks continued so did the mangled bodies. The number of agents working on the case was increased to keep up with the attacks.
Nine months after the first case, Pietro came across a peculiar one which piqued his interest. Like every day, he reported to base in the morning. As soon as he entered, he was dragged out by Thompson for investigating a crime scene. When they arrived at the scene, the area was already cut off from general public with yellow tape. The forensic team had also left leaving only the outline of the body. The body has been taken to the base for autopsy. Pietro and Thompson stood near the yellow tape.
“I want you to question that man over there. He was the one who notified the police.”
Pietro nodded and looked at the man. He was wearing worn-out clothes and a crumpled coat over it. His facial hair was over-grown and his eyes were red and sunken. He looked hung over. He was nervous. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to another and kept looking around. Pietro approached him.
“You’re the one who notified us?” The man nodded and Pietro continued, “What’s your name?”
“Charles Hinton.”
“Can you tell me when did you find the body?”
“I don’t know the time. But it was morning. There was sunlight. I called the police as soon I saw; I swear.”
“Did you touch the body?”
“No. I didn’t. I was revolted to go near it. It was disgusting. I felt my stomach churn.”
“Walk me through the incident.”
“I was on my way to collect breakfast from the bakery next street. The baker is a good man. He gives me bread in the morning every day. I saw the body only when I was few steps away from it. Other than the face nothing was recognisable remotely to a person. All the internal organs were on the street. There was blood everywhere. I backed off afraid. I almost ran away but decided to call the police.”
Pietro’s mind instantly travelled to the similar case he had investigated nine months ago. The body was ripped apart and the person was beyond recognition. In this case, unlike the previous one, the face remained intact. Identifying the victim would be easier he thought.
“Was anyone else there?”
“No, just me”
“Thanks. We will reach out for further questioning in future.”
Thompson noticed Pietro approaching him as he was talking with Fitz-Simmons. “What do you think of this case, Maximoff?” he asked.
“The informant says that the body was mangled. So, another animal attack?”
“Sadly yeah” replied Thompson.
“We all thought it would a feral animal but it was a dead end. We have to start looking at other options.”
“Thought so. But the claw and bite marks plus the embedded tooth point towards animal attack” interjected Fitz.
“Embedded tooth?” That’s a huge lead thought Pietro.
“Just now Simmons was filling me on the details. Apparently, a canine was embedded into the flesh of the victim” said Thompson
This was a great lead. If they find the animal all they had to do is put it to sleep. But something in Pietro’s head kept saying that it wasn’t an animal even though it looked like the work of a big cat or a bear. This could be his big break and he was determined to get to the bottom of this.
Chapter 7
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daisylincs · 4 years ago
Note
What about 14/23+54 for staticquake? Please and thank you. 😊
14 = Bodyguard AU, 23 = Performer AU and 54 = Secret Relationship.
Once again thank you to Grace for the wonderful prompt!! In fact, it was SO wonderful I got totally carried away, and wrote this monster of a bullet point-fic. I would say sorry, but I enjoyed myself far too much. Ah, well. I hope you like it, too! 
Lincoln is an Ed Sheeran-level singer-songwriter who fell in with a bad group - but, kudos to him, managed to get away from them. Problem is, now he's in quite a lot of danger because of it. 
But, being totally stubborn and unreasonable, and above all a musician, Lincoln flatly refuses to give up on his performances.
Mack, his manager, throws up his hands but knows there's no point in arguing (he has learned the hard way that it will get him. literally. nowhere.) 
So he compromises: Lincoln gets to go on giving performances IF he agrees to have a bodyguard with him at all times.) 
Lincoln hates the idea - "I'm not a baby, Mack, I can take care of myself, and also there's NO WAY I'm letting some musclebound goon ruin my shows by standing there glaring all the time." 
Mack gets a little smirk on his face at this point that has Lincoln thinking, oh dear. "Don't worry," Mack says, "I know just what to do." 
And Lincoln really doesn't like the look of that smirk - Mack only ever wears it when he has A Plan™.
But he figures, best not to complain now - he can always fire the musclebound goon tomorrow, and anyway the muse is a very flighty thing so he has way better things to be doing. 
The next day, Lincoln goes into his office fully expecting to meet, well, a musclebound goon. Instead, he finds a pretty girl perched on his desk making notes on her phone. 
At first, he thinks she's lost, and being way too nice for his own good, he tries to help her find where she's actually going. 
Only… "Oh, no," she says with a cheerful smile, "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be." 
"No, no," he says, still nice because she's quite pretty, even if she is in totally the wrong place. "This is a private office, actually." 
She hums her agreement - "nice decor, too." 
Lincoln is getting kind of annoyed now, because pretty or no, she's wasting his time. "You don't understand," he says. "This is Lincoln Campbell's office. I'm supposed to be meeting my new bodyguard here." 
The woman gives him a cheeky grin. "I know," she says. "Pleased to meet you." 
Lincoln's jaw drops practically to the floor as he finally gets it. "Wait… you're my new bodyguard?" 
"Daisy Johnson," she says with an exaggerated bow. "Graduated from May's academy with highest honours. I also have a degree in computer science, and by the way, your security system is crap." 
And, much as he doesn't want to be, Lincoln is impressed. Really impressed. She's only been here, what, fifteen minutes, and she's already hacked his security system? 
Also, a graduate of May's Academy? He knows next to nothing about the bodyguarding business, but… wow. 
And as he quickly learns, she's every bit as stubborn as he is. More, probably. If he doesn't want protection, well then that's too bad for him, she's here whether he likes it or not. 
After just one morning, he's already thinking that if he has to be stuck with a bodyguard following him around 24/7, he's glad it's Daisy. 
Days pass, and they get more comfortable with each other, falling into a routine that's almost friendly. He sleeps in, she mocks him for it as she wakes him up with coffee. After breakfast, he goes to the piano, while she improves some tiny feature of their now incredibly sophisticated security system. If it's a show day, or if he's meeting fans, they'll head out to the car together. Daisy has made her routine bug sweep into a kind of game, being unbelievably dramatic about flinging open the doors and declaring them "clear!" before bowing him into the car. 
During the drive, they chat about everything and anything (Daisy is hilarious, and her stories about the family she found at May's are the best. He feels like he knows Fitz and Jemma personally, and wants to smash their oblivious faces together as much as Daisy does.)
 When they get back from whatever show or interview he finished (or after a morning of song-writing), they like to play board games together. Daisy is insanely good at battleships, but he always beats her at backgammon. 
And Lincoln never, ever thought he'd say this, but he really likes his bodyguard. Impossible as it would have seemed to him a few weeks ago, she's become his friend. 
(It helps that she's not some musclebound goon, after all.) 
Which, great as it is, is also kind of a problem. 
Daisy is the furthest thing from a musclebound goon… because she's really, really pretty. 
And smart. And funny. And all-around just a great person. Honestly, could you even blame him for crushing on her? 
Luckily, Daisy hasn't noticed. (He thinks.) And he intends to keep it that way - he is NOT willing to lose his friend over the shitshow that is gossip tabloids. He knows that if the press gets even a hint of something between them, it's tickets for them. 
So, no, he's not willing to risk even thinking about his crush too much. 
Too bad Daisy seems determined to make him think about it as much as possible. 
"I'm bored," she informs him for the fiftieth time that afternoon. 
"That's just because you're losing in backgammon," he points out, also for the fiftieth time. 
She rolls her eyes. "No, I want to do something." Then her eyes light up with what can only be a really terrible idea. "I've got it! Come spar with me in the gym." 
"No!" There's no way he's going to agree to spar with her - seeing her in workout clothes every morning makes it hard enough to stay in his self-imposed friendzone, he isn't going to go making it WORSE by doing something as physical as sparring with her. 
"Pleeeeeaaaaaase?" 
That's the thing about Daisy - once she has hold of an idea, she will not let it go. And she'll resort to any means to get him to agree, even the hugely unfair advantage of puppy eyes. 
"Fine," he sighs, and the way her whole face lights up makes him think maybe it's worth going through the torture of a whole sparring session. 
He reconsiders that as soon as he's actually there. Daisy in full-on sparring mode is a whole new kind of beautiful - eyes shining, grinning hugely between panting breaths, curls loose and tangled around her face. She looks so alive, and God, he has never been more smitten. 
She kicks his ass. 
Twice. 
And on the third time she pins him, she huffs and goes, "I know you can do better than that." 
"Sorry," he says, trying his best not to dwell on the fact that she is currently lying on top of him. "You're just really distracting."
Shiiiit, he thinks, cursing himself immediately. Why, why, why did he say that? 
But Daisy's gaze simultaneously softens and turns mischievous. "Is that so?" she asks, leaning forwards so her curls are tickling his face. 
He has to catch his breath, because when she's leaning over like this her lips are suddenly really close to his. And also, did she just flirt with him, a little? 
He shifts his head a little, trying to ignore how this brings her lips even closer. "C'mon," he says. "You know you're really pretty." 
She raises her eyebrows. "Is that all?" 
"Of course not," he says. "You're smart, and kind, and funny, and badass. Daisy, you're… you're brilliant." 
He doesn't know how the mood turned from playful to so sincere, but he does know he means every word. 
And Daisy knows it too. Her eyes soften, and before he quite realises what's happening, she leans down and kisses him. 
He kisses her back, of course he does. And when they break apart, he sees his own feeling of oh-God-what-did-we-just-do reflected in her eyes. 
They look at each other for a long moment… and without having to say a word, they agree to leave the questions and worrying for later, and for now, let themselves just feel. 
And, well, they do. 
The next morning, Lincoln wakes up happier than he can remember being in a long time. Daisy is stretched out next to him, the sunlight painting her skin gold. 
It has to be the first time in history he's up before she is, and all he can think is how beautiful she looks. 
She wakes up, too, shooting him a sleepy smile that has his insides doing funny things, and for a few precious minutes they just bask in the warmth of the moment. 
But all too soon, reality comes crashing back. 
"I'm your bodyguard," Daisy says, scrambling out of bed with a look of dawning horror on her face. "This breaks every rule in the book, I can't do this." 
"I'm so sorry," she adds quietly, giving him a stricken look as she's halfway out of his room. "You deserve so much better, I should never have done this." 
"Okay, first of all, I was hardly an unwilling participant," he says, and her lips quirk up despite everything. "Second of all - I've been torturing myself for weeks trying to tell myself I'd get over it, but I really like you, Daisy. And I know better than anyone how impossible this seems - believe me, I've analysed every corner of it - but I can't let you go." 
She looks like she might still walk away, but she hesitates just inside the door. "What do you want to do?" she asks quietly. 
And it's crazy, and it's stupid, but he says it. Secret relationship. 
Daisy stands in the doorway, biting her lip, but slowly, she starts to grin. 
And that's how they start dating in secret. 
The funny thing is, their lives don't even change all that much. They still share a coffee in the morning, chat in the car and play board games in the afternoon. They still make each other laugh like crazy and get along like a house on fire.
 The only real difference is that he can kiss her whenever he feels like it, provided no-one's watching. That, he thinks, is the best difference he could ever have hoped for. 
They just need to be very careful not to get caught kissing. 
But after the first few weeks, caution turns into a kind of game - how far can we take this before someone'll be onto us? 
They are almost caught SO many times, and it just gets funnier every time. (Daisy's latest excuse: she needed to inspect his bare chest to make sure he wasn't bugged. Joey's face… Luckily for them, Daisy leaned poker faces from the best.) 
In short, life is great. He's got a job he loves with great people around him, and the best secret girlfriend anyone could wish for. 
It's so great, in fact, that he kind of forgets Daisy is actually his bodyguard. 
She doesn't forget, though. And she does her job. 
Because at his latest concert, some freaky terrorists decide it's just the time to try and make a statement by murdering a popular performer. 
Honestly, those poor terrorists. They never stood a chance against Daisy. 
Everything would have been one hundred percent fine if he hadn't called out "Daisy!" and rushed off-stage when he heard the gunshots, suddenly remembering with a cold shock that his girlfriend was also his bodyguard and currently being shot at. 
But unfortunately, he doesn't really stop to think. He rushes off stage, not giving a damn what anyone might think, to make sure she's all right. 
And the thing is, she's fine. Until she sees him. 
Then she freezes, for just a second, but it's enough for one of the terrorists to get in a shot. 
He sees it all happen in slow motion - the blood seeping out and staining Daisy's bodysuit, Daisy herself swaying and collapsing to the floor. He hears the shot a second after it hits. 
He runs over, his entire world suddenly panicky and terrified. Not Daisy, no, he can't lose her; oh, God, this is all his fault. 
Somehow, Daisy manages to squeeze his hand. He understands the silent message for what it is - it's going to be okay. 
Even when she's been shot, she's still so unbelievably strong. He squeezes her hand back and won't let go even when the paramedics come rushing into the building. 
He keeps gripping her hand as they load her up onto a stretcher, not even caring about the reporters that swarm them as soon as they're outside. 
The paparazzi can go fuck themselves. His girlfriend needs him right now, and that's more important than anything else. 
The next few hours, where he's waiting tensely as Daisy is in the operating theatre, are some of the longest of his life. 
At some point, four people (two men and two women) come rushing into the hospital, faces white and drawn. He's never seen them before, but he recognises them. May, Coulson, Fitz and Jemma. Daisy's family. 
The intimidating one, May, takes one look at him and goes "Daisy's boyfriend?" 
"Yeah," he says, so surprised he almost forgets his worry for a second, "how did you know?" 
May snorts and tells him that he's about as subtle as a brick wall, oh, and Daisy tells her everything. 
He smiles faintly at that. And the five of them - they don't know each other, but in those awful, uncertain hours, they form a bond, the kind that can only form in times of extreme stress when someone you all love is in danger. 
When the tired-looking nurse finally comes out to tell them Daisy's going to be okay, they hug each other on the spot. And it should be awkward, but all any of them can think about is Daisy, so it's not. It just feels right. 
They troop into her room, all five of them together, and a very dopey Daisy smiles weakly up at them. Lincoln immediately reaches for her hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles and lacing their fingers. 
Daisy gives him a small, tired smile, but then her brow squinches in confusion. "Wait… we're supposed to be a secret couple." 
Jemma coughs. "About that." And she shows them the latest gossip headlines: Lincoln holding Daisy's hand for dear life as they rush her to hospital. 
"Oh, that's not good," Daisy says, frowning through the effects of her heavy sedatives. 
This would have totally panicked Lincoln just a few days ago, but now… he almost lost her. The tabloids seem paltry and insignificant in comparison. 
"How would you feel about going on a date when you're better?" he asks, because he thinks she and everyone else in the room needs some cheering up. "A proper date, not a secret meet-up in the closet."
 Coulson raises his eyebrows, like, too much information. But Daisy grins. "I would love that," she says, just slightly slurred through all the drugs. 
"Good," he says, and kisses her forehead. She's smiling as she drifts off. 
Watching her, Lincoln thinks that their secret relationship was never meant to be. It was a lot of fun, sure, but it was never meant to last. 
They were always going to end up being a real couple. 
And honestly? He couldn't be happier. 
The end.
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