#did I mention the part where they talked about the satellite scans in The Lost World???

[swan2swan]

“But if there were dinosaurs on Nublar, why would Ludlow go to Isla Sorna?” is an Actual Question I have seen people asking on the Internet and that I have seen only ONE person answer properly, and that was:

“Because there are more dinosaurs on Sorna.”

And my gosh is it nice to know that someone else out there actually thinks through complaints about plots, my gosh.

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

Vacation Part 2 ~ Prague [P.P]

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

A/n: Chapter 2 is here! I'm still working on 3 and I'll hopefully have it done in time for next week. I'm so grateful for the response from this small series and I'm excited that you all like it! This chapter has more angst in it and yes I was slightly inspired by To all the boys I've loved before haha.

Thank you to @eeyore101247 for beta reading this chapter for me at the last minute! I love you Lolo!

WC: 5.8k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of slut-shaming and bullying, high school sucks, mentions of Tony and grief but also cute romantic fluff cause we love to see it.

The end of the class’ time in Italy arrived too soon in Peter’s opinion. He’d had so much fun with you, he’d almost forgotten entirely about his plan. Almost. There was still a part of him drawn to MJ and still felt jealous when she was with Brad which started to happen more often.

And yet he always felt himself drawn back to you.

Peter sighed as he finished packing his bags, his head reeling from everything until he heard a knock on the door. Mostly everyone had left the hotel in a hurry but Ned had stayed with Peter.

“You got a package.” He handed Peter the wrapped package and looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Do you think it’s a bomb or something?”

Peter looked at his best friend in bewilderment. “Well I do now!”

“I’m sure it’s not.” Ned shook his head, eying the package carefully. Peter cautiously looked at Ned and back at the parcel in his hands. He knew this vacation had been too good to be true. He carefully looked at the writing and noticed a shield logo in the corner.

“It’s from SHIELD.” Peter spoke carefully as he opened the wrapping, he was hoping maybe for a cool badge or something but instead there was only a glasses case. Ned and him exchanged a look before opening the case.

There inside of the wooden casing was a pair of glasses, they looked mostly ordinary with a blue shaded tint to the lenses like the kind Tony would wear. Peter felt a strange kind of feeling as he looked at them, it was a mix of grief and disappointment, are these old glasses really the only thing Tony had left for him?

“Awesome!” Ned looked over Peter’s shoulder at the glasses. “Try them on!”

Peter thought about it before quickly closing the case and putting it in his backpack, shaking his head. “We’ll be late for the flight.”

“Oh you didn’t hear?” Ned gave Peter a look who shrugged in return. “We’re going by coach now. Mr Harrington said we got an upgrade to Prague.”

“What about Paris?!” Peter exclaimed, looking at Ned with wide eyes.

“Well Mr Harrington and Mr Dell kind of got into an argument about whether it was Prague or Paris we were meant to be going to. Turns out Mr Harrington was supposed to book Paris but he booked Prague instead.” Ned explained, shaking his head.

Peter sighed and furrowed his brow, a coach didn’t sound much fun but at least Peter didn’t have to worry about flying. He wasn’t sure if there were any romantic spots in Prague but it was nothing a quick internet search couldn’t fix. It’s not like his plan was going according anyway.

He grabbed his bags and walked down to where the rest of the class were already boarding a large coach.

Everyone was already seated by the time Peter got on. MJ was with Brad, Ned was with Betty and you were with one of your friends. The only free seat was next to Flash and Peter preferred the option of sitting by himself at the back, he could do with the peace and quiet anyway.

You gave him a smile as he walked past and he returned it before taking his seat, almost falling into it as the driver started down the road. Peter rested his head against the window and took out his earphones, noticing the case next to them. He played his music as he took out the case and looked at the glasses again.

He picked them up and tried them on, waiting for something to happen but nothing did. He laughed dryly and shook his head, going to take them off before he noticed a Stark industries business card at the bottom of the case.

For the next Tony Stark, I trust you. Say EDITH.

Peter read the message aloud and jumped as the glasses flashed blue, a female voice talking to him much like the one he had in his suit. An interface loaded in front of him, showing a scan of his face.

“Retinal and biometric scan completed.”

“Hello?”

“Hello Peter. I am EDITH, Tony Stark’s augmented reality security and defence system.”

Peter adjusted the glasses and smiled, Tony had given him an AI with access to all of his protocols. He almost couldn’t believe that he had trusted him with that kind of access.

“EDITH stands for even dead I’m the hero. Tony loved his acronyms.”

“Yeah he did.” Peter smiled fondly, remembering the time he had tried to make up some of his own but had never quite hit the mark.

“I have access to the entire Stark global security network including multiple defence satellites and backdoors to all major telecommunication networks.”

Peter looked around as screens loaded before him of what his classmates and teachers were up to on their phones including Mr Dell researching the history of witchcraft. Ned and Betty were texting each other even though they were sat together.

“Woah.” Peter couldn’t get over how cool this was to have all of this access at his fingertips. He looked over at MJ wondering if she was texting before changing his mind, knowing it would be wrong. His eyes landed on where you sat and your texts showed before him. Ned wasn’t the only one Betty was texting.

Y/n: I really like him.

Betty: I know but I’m pretty sure he likes MJ :/

Peter could feel his heart racing. He wanted so badly to tell you Betty was wrong but the truth was he didn’t know anymore.

You looked over at MJ and Brad, biting your lip before glancing at Peter. He quickly looked away from you, his eyes looking over towards MJ on accident. He didn’t see the way your face fell but he did see the last text you sent to Betty.

Y/n: Yeah, you’re right.

Peter sighed and put his head in his hands, wanting to scream into oblivion.

“Pete, everything okay?”

He quickly looked up at the sound of your voice and nodded, worrying that somehow you knew he had been spying. He tried to quickly think of something to say as you sat next to him, looking worried and saddened.

A moment’s silence passed between the both of you, neither sure of what to say. The only sound came from the chatters of the bus and the passing scenery outside.

“I like your glasses. Are they new?” You smiled, breaking the silence as you admired the new frames and the eyes underneath them. Peter slowly nodded and took them off.

“Y-yeah, they were a gift.” He gave you a small smile and put them back in the case. You noticed the Stark industries logo but didn’t say anything more on the topic. You knew how much Tony had meant to Peter.

After the blip when everyone returned to their old lives, you noticed Peter wasn’t the same person. He seemed sadder and lost, struggling to pay attention even in lessons he loved and sometimes he’d have to excuse himself quickly from the classroom. You had followed him once and found him on the floor, sobbing into his hands. He didn’t even register it was you that had hugged him until he looked up and mumbled an apology.

Seeing him that way broke your heart and the last thing you wanted to cause was more sadness for him when he was meant to be enjoying himself.

“I think they look good on you.”

Peter blushed and smiled, bowing his head shyly. “Thank you.”

You smiled back and nodded, deciding to listen to your music and handing Peter an earphone. He looked surprised at the gesture but took it anyway and listened to your music, a wide smile gracing his lips as you both shared the sweet moment together.

It stayed like that for the rest of the journey, both of you enjoying each other's company just as you had done in Venice. Peter couldn't get rid of the smile from his face until they stopped for a restroom break and he saw Brad and MJ holding hands as they got off the bus. His whole face fell which didn't go unnoticed by you.

Peter gave you a quick goodbye before going after Ned, in need of his best friend’s advice. You meekly said a goodbye before sighing and grabbing your things. Your eyes landed on a small journal on Peter’s seat that he must have left behind.

You know you shouldn’t have looked but the temptation was biting away at you. It was only just a peek, you told yourself. You smiled as you saw some doodles scribbled on the pages, chemical equations for something called web fluid (probably some cool science thing he was working on) and a section dedicated to The plan.

Intrigued of what the plan entailed you read ahead and with each written word the jealousy in your heart grew and the sadness broke your heart. Peter was planning to romance MJ with gifts and a whole speech he had written out in detail. Everything was planned and you were nothing more than a distraction. You even noticed that in one of Peter’s doodles he had written MJ or Y/n???

*~*~*~*

“I swear it was in here.” Peter sighed as he searched his bag for his journal, the one that held all his personal thoughts and feelings. Ned had tried to help him look but the mission was futile.

“It will turn up. Maybe you just left it on the bus.”

Peter nodded and sighed heavily, zipping his backpack up and throwing it back on his shoulders. He spotted a nice little souvenir for Morgan and paid for it before leaving the small store. He took a moment to look around where they had stopped since the rest of the group were taking their time and as he got closer to a small empty bathroom he could hear the sound of someone crying.

He gently knocked on the door to make sure that whoever it was was okay before being sharply told to go away. Peter felt even worse as he recognised your voice. He wondered what had happened since she’d been fine when he last saw her.

“y/n?”

“Peter just leave me alone, please.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, small sniffles escaping you as you sat on the edge of the closed toilet seat.

“You know I can’t do that.” He rested his head against the door and sighed softly, willing to wait for you until you came out.

“I’m trying to make things easier for you!”

Peter hummed in confusion before something slid out from underneath the door, his journal.

“Go be with MJ.”

“Y/n no..” He sighed and resisted the urge to bang his head against the door. “I-” He didn’t even know how to explain but he did know one thing. “It doesn’t matter what it says in there. I’ve had so much fun with you on this trip and I know now that you can’t plan everything, you can’t plan falling in love because it just happens.”

As Peter spoke he realised that his words were truer than they had ever been, he was falling for you and he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t care about his plan anymore and yes it still hurt when MJ was with Brad but it was nothing compared to the happiness he felt when he was with you.

The world felt silent around the both of you as Peter’s words processed. You felt even more confused than before but you could also feel something else, hope. Peter listened to your breathing and the small sniffles that still came from behind the door.

“I’m gonna head back onto the bus. I got cookies if you wanna share.”

You held back a giggle and rolled your eyes fondly before opening the bathroom door and wiping your eyes free of tears.

“They better be chocolate chip.”

“Is there any other kind?”

You and Peter both laughed as you got back on the bus, already heading to the back together to find your seats. Peter put his journal away out of sight and smiled at you, taking out the cookies he had brought and offering one to you. It did nothing to ease the ache still in your heart but it did fill your stomach and no matter what you still liked being in Peter’s company.

*~*~*~*

The hotel for Prague turned out to be a lot better than the one they had stayed in during their time in Venice. Mr Harrington said that an anonymous someone had given them an upgrade which made Peter’s Spidey senses tingle. Maybe he was just being paranoid but he also knew that things like this were usually too good to be true.

Everyone was shown to their room, all except for Peter who got held back at reception by the lady at the desk.

“He said to leave this here for you when you arrived Mr Parker.”

Peter looked at her with confusion as he took the envelope, a familiar handwriting scrawled on top. His heart suddenly felt heavy but he pushed the resurfacing feelings of grief aside and nodded, making his way up to his room.

He could hear through the door that Ned and Betty were already inside making cutesy talk while soft music played. Whilst Peter loved his friends, he wanted to go somewhere quiet and open the letter. His mind had already decided where to go as he made his way towards the room number he needed and knocked.

The door opened to reveal your beautiful smile which already made Peter feel a sense of calm. He looked around for your suit buddy and sighed in relief as the room was empty.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded without hesitation, seeing the slight pain on Peter’s face and brought him to sit down on one of the comfy twin beds. He held the letter in slightly shaky hands and kept his eyes on it. You spotted the familiar logo on the envelope, the same that was on Peter’s glasses case and realised.

“Is that from-?”

“Mhm.” Peter nodded, keeping his lips in a tight thin line as he contemplated opening it. His mind was running a mile a minute with so many thoughts. He’d gotten the glasses from Tony and that was enough for him even if the card had been a bit of a riddle. He wasn’t sure if he could handle a letter too.

“Can you open it?” Peter looked at you pleadingly as he handed you the letter, his hands still visibly shaking. You hesitated before nodding and carefully opened the envelope, reading the letter aloud.

Dear Peter,

I’m writing this in case all goes well and we manage to restore normality, at least what once was. I know you’re going to do great things and maybe you’ll make mistakes along the way but that’s part of being human kid. God knows I made more than I can count.

I wanted to make your senior year as awesome as it should be so if you’re reading this then you made it kid. I don’t remember much of my last year of high school but I wanted to make sure you did so make the most of it and don’t worry about any extracurriculars on your trip.

I know you’ll make me proud Peter cause you already do. Now go have fun and don’t do anything I would do or anything I wouldn’t do. Remember the little grey area is where you operate.

Anonymous someone.

Peter laughed and sniffled as you finished, wiping his eyes as tears had started to fall. You quickly put the letter down and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close.

“It’s okay.”

He nodded against your shoulder as a few more tears fell, his fingers clinging onto your sweater. Peter wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry more at the words from his mentor so he did both. He reread the letter again and again that night, feeling the weight on his heart ease. Tony had upgraded his class trip for him probably through Happy to make sure Peter had a nice time and he had also said he was proud of him. That hit Peter the most and it was what he needed to hear in that moment.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes as Peter’s breathing calmed, his tears reducing to sniffles. You rubbed his back comfortingly and played with his curls which seemed to relax Peter more as he stayed in your arms.

When you both pulled away neither was sure of what to say. Peter focused on clearing his face of tears and running a hand through his messy curls whilst you played with the sleeves of your sweater. You wished you could ask Peter to stay the night, after all your roommate for the trip had gone home with food poisoning.

Little did you know Peter was thinking the same thoughts, knowing Ned and Betty would probably still be in his room or go to hers. Sometimes they spooned and stayed up till late hours of the night talking, he wasn’t sure he could deal with that right now and he liked being in your company.

“Do you want to-?”

“Can I-?”

You both laughed as you spoke over each other, exchanging a back and forth argument of who should speak first. Peter insisted you speak and gave you a small smile.

You nodded and took a deep breath before looking into those familiar warm, honey coloured eyes. “Do you want to stay here tonight? There’s two beds and I heard there’s a Star Wars Marathon on tv.”

Peter’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling with happiness as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

The night passed by in a blur as you and Peter stayed up to watch his favourite movies, even having ordered some food from room service which had apparently also been covered by Stark industries. Just like in Venice, you laughed and joked and enjoyed each other’s company, smiling as you saw Peter enjoying himself.

There was still a hurt from earlier knowing how much he had wanted to be with MJ and you knew they would work together as a couple, you’d seen them in decathlon together but MJ seemed to be enjoying time with Brad and Peter was here with you. A warm flutter of butterflies exploded in your stomach as you met his gaze, he offered his warm smile and offered you some of his popcorn to which you nodded.

Maybe your chance wasn’t so dead after all.

Just as you were about to wind down for the night, it being way past midnight, Peter looked at you with a hesitant smile.

“Hey Y/n?”

You looked up at him in response, picking up some popcorn from your competition to see who could throw and catch the most in their mouths (Peter had won).

“I- um would you-” Peter stuttered over his words as they got caught on his tongue. He cleared his throat and you bit back a smile at how utterly cute he was. “There’s this big carnival tomorrow and I was hoping maybe w-we could go together?”

His cheeks flushed pink as he finally asked the question he’d been dying to ask all night, his eyes too scared to look at your reaction.

“Peter,” You walked over and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He relaxed at seeing the wide smile on your face. “I would love to go with you.”

His smile widened to match yours and a wave of relief washed over him. “That’s great.” He gave a chuckle and blushed as you delicately kissed his cheek before getting into your bed for the night.

“Just to make sure I meant like a date.” Peter clarified, worried about getting put into the friendzone.

You giggled and smiled at him from your bed. “I know Pete. It’s a date.” You winked at him before turning off the light and laying back, ready to fall asleep with a wide smile on your face.

Peter smiled wide as he laid in bed, the sheets and mattress softer than the last one he had slept on. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place, it wasn’t as Peter had imagined but it was far better.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning Peter woke up feeling more refreshed than he had felt in a long time. The sun was shining over Prague and even Peter felt brighter in himself. He looked over at your bed and smiled as he found you still asleep, snoring softly.

Peter’s whole heart leapt at the sight and he let out a happy sigh as he thought about last night. You had comforted him and held him and had even agreed to go on a date with him tonight. He felt like the luckiest human alive which made him want to do a little dance in his bed as he thought about it.

“What are you doing?”

Peter blushed and looked over to see that you were now awake and looking at him with an amused smile.

“Uh nothing.” He laughed and got out of bed, gathering the letter and his shoes. You giggled as you watched him accidentally grab your sneakers before switching them for his own. “I better get going. Don’t want Mr Harrington to call an emergency buddy meeting again.”

You laughed and agreed with a nod, remembering the last one at the airport when Mr Harrington had panicked the whole group when he thought Ned had gone missing only to see he was right behind him.

Peter smiled at you as he opened the door, “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded and smiled wide, “Don’t be late Parker.”

He shook his head and laughed as he left, an unwavering smile on his face as he headed back to his room. Peter didn’t notice Flash see him leave your room with a smile and his shoes in hand nor the phone recording him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Peter took a deep breath as he stood in front of the mirror, brushing down his shirt as he bit his lip. “I’m not sure.”

Ned sighed and flopped back onto his bed. “Peter, this is the 7th shirt you’ve tried on! You look fine!” He knew as soon as he uttered the last word that Peter would rummage through his suitcase yet again for the perfect shirt.

10 minutes later, Peter was finally ready for his date, much to Ned’s relief. He watched as Peter gave himself a pep talk in the mirror, mumbling in the hopes Ned couldn’t hear him.

“Okay here’s the plan-”

Ned was just about to tell Peter enough with his plans before the door opened and MJ walked in.

“Hey losers.”

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Ned looked at her and raised his brow. MJ shrugged in response and sat down on Peter’s vacant bed. She looked at him as he turned back to the mirror and tried to tame his messy curls.

“So you and Y/n huh?” MJ noted with a smirk, stealing some of the gummy worms that Peter had brought for the trip. He turned around so quickly, he almost got whiplash.

“What?! I-” Peter was at a loss for words, he knew news spread quickly at Midtown but how had anyone found out in one night. “We’re not really a thing yet.” He blushed and avoided his friends’ gazes.

“Oh really? Then why did Flash see you leave her room last night in the same clothes as yesterday.” MJ smirked again and threw a gummy worm at Peter who looked at her with wide eyes.

“I just- I stayed in her room last night.” He admitted, his cheeks burning red as Ned and MJ didn’t look convinced. “But nothing happened!”

Ned and MJ shared a sympathetic look as they saw Peter’s distress grow at the rumor. He picked up his phone and panicked as he saw the midtown gossip website showing a video of him leaving your room. Before he could panic anymore Peter quickly made his way to the other side of the hotel floor and banged on Flash’s door.

“Woah penis what-?”

“Take it down.” Peter didn’t disguise his anger as Flash opened the door.

“What?”

“The video you took last night Flash. Please take it down.” Peter lowered his voice and pleaded. He knew this would affect you as soon as you saw it and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt because of him. Not again.

“Why? Don’t want everyone to know you’re not a virgin anymore?” Flash smirked and laughed before noticing the anger grow once more on Peter’s face. “The video’s out of my control. Sorry dude.”

Flash closed the door, not sounding sorry at all. Peter sighed and leaned against the wall, resting his head back. Everywhere around him classmates were getting ready for the carnival, whispering behind his back and giving him looks, he wasn’t sure if they were impressed looks or disgusted ones but either way he didn’t like them.

Peter usually lied low so he could avoid things like this and stay out of the rumor mill. He hated rumors and he hated being a part of them even more. Just as he was contemplating messaging Happy to see if he could do something, he heard a door open and looked up.

You walked out of your room, looking as beautiful as ever and Peter swear his heart almost dropped out of his stomach at the sight as the butterflies ran rampant in his stomach. You looked around before catching his gaze and smiling.

“Hey Pete.”

For a moment, Peter forgot how to form words, too focused on how beautiful you looked as you smiled. His throat felt dry and his hands felt clammy to the touch.

“H-hi.” He finally managed to say, his heart racing as you smiled wider and giggled.

“I was just coming to meet you. Are you ready to go?”

Peter thought back to the video circulating his classmates phones and he assumed you hadn’t seen it. He knew he should’ve told you there and then but he didn’t want to ruin your date or hurt you so he kept his lips sealed.

He nodded and gave you a small smile, heading out of the hotel with you. Your hands touched briefly as you walked and Peter almost took your hand in his before pulling away as he chickened out. You tried not to show your disappointment and offered Peter a smile.

The streets of Prague were full of life and celebration, everyone wearing bright colours and dancing along the streets as loud music played. Peter allowed himself to be distracted at the joy of the city before your hand slipped into his, catching him by surprise.

You gave his hand a squeeze and smiled, “So we don’t lose each other.” It was partially the truth but you mostly just wanted to hold his hand. Peter smiled and nodded but you could tell something was wrong.

It wasn’t just the rumour mill that was getting to Peter, the loud noises and brightness was causing his heightened senses to overload. He began to feel on edge and his palms grew even sweatier than before.

“Peter are you okay?”

He looked at you and bit his lip, shaking his head slowly. You squeezed his hand comfortingly and nodded, seemingly understanding what needed to be done as you led him over to the Ferris wheel.

Peter sighed in relief as you and him both got seated, your hands still interlinked as the door shut to the cart you were in.

“I hate crowds too.” You admitted with a soft blush and met his gaze. Peter smiled softly and squeezed your hand like you had done to his.

The wheel moved slowly allowing you both to enjoy the moment and the sights of the city. Peter knew that he didn’t need to fill the silence or try to talk, you were just there for each other as you had been last night and the whole trip.

Music from the streets filled the silence of the night as you and Peter looked out at the stars glittering in the night sky. It was right as you reached the peak of the wheel that Peter finally broke the silence.

“I really like you Y/n.”

You blushed and turned to Peter, noticing the redness of his cheeks and the staggered breaths escaping his lips. He looked straight ahead for a few moments before he felt your hand grip tighter onto his and saw your smile from the corner of his eye.

“I really like you too Peter.”

He smiled wide, mirroring yours before noticing your face fall just as fast.

“But I don’t want to be second best.”

Peter’s heart broke at her words, knowing she was thinking back to his journal. He shook his head and quickly cupped your cheeks in his hands, meeting your gaze lovingly.

“You’re not second best Y/n. You never were and you never will be. The truth is I’ve always liked you but I just- I never thought I would be lucky enough to have a chance with you.”

You smiled at the genuinity in Peter’s voice and his warm brown eyes that pulled you in ever closer until your lips were almost touching. “Always liked me huh?”

Peter nodded and smiled wide, the blush on his cheeks becoming brighter as he looked down at your lips.

“C-can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You smiled as Peter’s lips finally met your own, after years of pining and wondering what if. Peter’s lips were soft and tasted like the cotton candy you had shared earlier. Your lips were sweeter than Peter had ever imagined, if that was possible.

Neither of you wanted the kiss to end but you could feel the need for air increasing in your lungs. You were the first one to pull back, catching your breath as you leaned your forehead against Peter’s. He chuckled softly and smiled so wide that his eyes crinkled.

“Woah.”

You nodded and pecked his lips once more with a giggle. The blush on your cheeks was rivalling Peter’s now as you noticed the ride was soon coming to an end. Peter looked disappointed before quickly paying for another ride.

“I hope you did that so you can kiss me again.” You smiled coyly and looped your arms around Peter’s neck.

“Maybe.” He shrugged and laughed before leaning in to kiss you again but this time he hesitated as he saw the looks from some of his classmates. The reminder hitting him like a train.

“Pete? What’s wrong?” Your fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck as the wheel started to move again. Peter visibly gulped and his mood fell as he looked back at you.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

You bit your lip in worry and nodded, having a feeling you knew what Peter was going to say.

“Pete I know.”

“You do?”

You giggled and nodded again, kissing his cheek and leaning in close. Peter blushed and looked guilty, his eyes avoiding yours.

“You being Spider-Man doesn’t bother me.”

Peter’s blood ran cold and he quickly shifted away, laughing in pretend disbelief. “I-What?! No. I-I’m not Spider-Man!”

You looked knowingly at him and rubbed his arm, taking his hand back in yours. “Peter it’s okay, i think it’s cool.” You smiled but Peter still sat in denial, shaking his head.

“I-” He gulped and sighed, biting his lip. “Is it that obvious?”

“No but I’ve had a crush on your for a while now and I’m not dumb Peter. The glasses and the letter from Iron Man. And then there was Washington. I just know you Peter.” You blushed and fidgeted with your hands, feeling embarrassed to admit your crush even though you had only kissed him 5 seconds ago.

Peter smiled, finding it endearing that you knew him and had paid attention to him all this time. He leaned back in close to you and rested his hand on yours.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, laughing as Peter was taken aback at your exclamation. “I’m dating a freaking superhero!” You giggled with Peter before kissing him again. The kiss was even more perfect than the last as your lips began to learn and memorise each other.

*~*~*~*~*

The carnival livened up even more as the night went on. The music became louder and the people got more drunk, something that might have made Peter annoyed but nothing could ruin his mood right now. He could still taste the sweetness of your lips on his and he just couldn’t get enough.

You giggled as Peter kissed your lips again after winning you a gigantic teddy bear. He smiled wide and giggled with you, the sound like music to your ears. You hugged the bear tight to your chest after choosing to name it Spidey which made Peter blush.

“This is so amazing.” You remarked as you took a moment to enjoy the scenery surrounding you. Peter sat with you on a nearby bench and nodded, hesitantly wrapping his arm around you. He smiled as you leaned into his side with a happy sigh. The moment was perfect and Peter was sure nothing could ruin it.

You jumped a little as your phone buzzed before pulling it from your pocket. Peter smiled to himself as he saw Spider-Man was the wallpaper on your phone. You blushed and tried to quickly hide it as you opened the message from Betty.

Peter turned his eyes towards the street to give you some privacy, the last thing he wanted you to think was that he was reading your texts (again).

He only looked back at you as you slowly pulled away from his arms, clutching your phone in your hands and only then did Peter notice that Betty had sent you the video of him leaving your room last night. You were scrolling through the comments and Peter saw that amongst the nice or gossiping comments that were hurtful ones calling you names.

“Y/n I-”

You shook your head and bit your lip, quickly locking your phone. You noticed a group of girls from your class staring at you and giggling, whispering in each other's ears.

“I have to go.” You sniffled as you grabbed your bag and quickly walked back to the hotel, ignoring Peter’s calls of your name. He sighed and tried to chase after you but within seconds he had lost you in the crowd and maybe for good this time.

Taglist:

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[just-dreaming-marvel]

ONE HUNDRED TEN - REGROUPING OR GIVING UP?

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 1,320ish

Summary: The Team tries to get any information out of Tony.

After our chat in Tony’s head, we woke up to see the others surrounding us, very worried. We ignored them and both insisted on getting out of that room, that we needed some food. Steve and Pepper helped Tony into a wheel chair, while I used my IV pole to keep my balance. We went into the living area and people immediately started to talk about the issue at hand. I sat at the table with Tony, still in his wheel chair, by my side, and everyone else stood around the room.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth. World governments are in pieces,” Nat stated. “The parts that are still working, are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did, he did exactly what he said he was going to do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures.” 

I turned and looked at Tony. He had his hand over his mouth as he watched everyone and the screens that were flipping through our missing friends, our missing family members. I couldn’t stand to look at any of their faces, feeling their each individual disappearance when their face would pop up. 

“Where is he now?” Tony wondered. “Where?”

“We don’t know,” Steve answered. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

“I got into his head,” I chimed in, “but I wasn’t able to hold the connection after he knocked me out. I really didn’t see anything other then him really wanting to complete his mission.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tony asked, motioning to Thor who was sitting just outside, in the small courtyard. 

Thor hadn’t been the same since he showed up, especially after being unsuccessful in stopping Thanos. I didn’t blame him though. He had lost so much, much more than the rest of us. And his losses were more… permanent. 

“Yeah, he’s pissed. He thinks he failed,” Rocket answered, sitting against the wall. 

“Which, of course he did, but, you know, there’s a lot of that goin’ around, ain’t there?” He tried to lighten the mood. 

“Honestly, at this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” 

“Maybe I am.” 

I smirked at Rockets quick comment. If this were any other situation, I believed that the two would be great friends. But, given the heaviness of the times, I believe that Rocket is just doing what he can to keep himself going.

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now,” Steve continued on. “Deep space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that?” Tony asked. Steve and Nat both glanced at me before Tony could notice. “I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while a Bleecker Street magician gave away the stone. That’s what happened. There was no fight.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

I reached into Tony’s mind as Steve questioned him. He really didn’t want to do this. Like, any of this, anymore. He had tried to warn them—us, years ago, no one listened. And now he was done. Tony was officially done with being an Avenger. He also had no answers to any of the questions the rest of the group, specifically Steve, were bombarding him with.

“Pfft!” Tony gave a mock salute before sitting back and rubbing his face. 

“I saw this coming a few years back, I had a vision,” Tony stated. “But I didn’t want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming.”

“Tony, I’m going to need you to focus—“ Steve tried to demand.

“And I needed you, we needed you,” Tony motioned to himself and me. I awkwardly looked away from the two of them. “As in past tense. That trumps what you need… It’s too late, buddy. Sorry…” 

“You know what I need? I need to shave.” 

Tony stood up, pushing a bowl off the table. I quickly hopped up too, just in case I needed to catch him. He yanked out his IV. “And I believe I ever remember telling you, Cap…” 

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Rhodey walked up to him and tried to block him from going after Steve.

“…why that otherwise, that what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not, that’s what we needed!” 

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve shot back.

“I said ‘we’ll lose’. You said, ‘We’ll do that together too.’” 

“Well, guess what, Cap?” Tony tried to get in Steve’s face, but Rhodey stopped him again. “We lost, and you weren’t there.” 

“But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We’re the Avengers? We’re the Avengers. Not the Prevengers, right?”

Rhodey stepped in once again. “Okay, you made your point. Just sit down, okay?”

“Nah, nah, nah.” Tony pushed Rhodey away. “Here’s my point.”

“Sit down, Dad!” I tried to get involved. 

Tony pointed to Carol. “She’s great, by the way. We need you. You’re new blood.” 

Rhodey began to push Tony down into the wheel chair once again. “Tony!”

“Bunch of tired old mills. I got nothing for you, Cap!” Tony finally got passed Rhodey and stalked up to Steve. 

 “I’ve got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero, zip, nada.” 

“No trust, liar.” 

I could instantly feel the affect that word had on Steve and how Tony truly meant it. “Here,” Tony ripped off his reactor from his chest and put it in Steve’s hand,

“take this. You find him and you put that on. You hide…” Tony’s breathing had become labored and his legs gave out on him. 

“Dad!” I exclaimed and hurried over to his side with everyone else.

“I’m fine,” he tried to wave us all away, “Let me…” Then he passed out. 

Carol and Steve were quick to get him back to his room so that Bruce could check on him. Pepper was at his side in an instant. The three of them were in there with Rhodey while the rest of us waited outside. I had my arms folded over my chest with my eyes trained on Tony through the glass wall that separated the rooms. 

“He’s right, you know?” I quietly said. I knew everyone heard me when no one spoke up, so I continued on. “He tried to warn us. Ultron was his way. But no one listened.” I shook my head. “None of us really believed him. Even me.” I turned around to face everyone else. “This is not all on Thanos. This is on all of us who were there that night three years ago and didn’t support Tony.” I stared angrily at Nat and Steve. “It’s on us.” The events of that night, played through my mind and into the others. 

Before anyone could respond, Rhodey came out of the room. “He’ll be fine,” he informed us. “Bruce gave him a sedative. He’s gonna be out for the rest of the day.” 

I nodded and then entered the room he was in. Pepper was tightly holding his hand. I sat in the empty chair on the opposite side. I grabbed his free hand and carefully stroked it.

While Pepper and I held a vigil at Tony’s bedside, the others decided to take on Thanos. They left for space, specifically to the planet that Nebula had mentioned and that Carol had confirmed he was on. Once they arrived, I was plagued with the events that were happening there. I tried to hold them back but failed. I watched as Thanos told them that he had destroyed the stones and when Thor went for his head.

Thanos was gone, but what were we going to do with everything that he had done?

next >

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 14

It'd been four days since their tussle with the spy; they hadn't heard or seen any hint of them, and so far the only injury that had turned up at Xu's clinic had been a woman who had fallen on a bit of wood.  Asher had gone into town long enough to get his broken tooth pulled (front right tooth on the top...he looked like a doofus when he smiled now) and had immediately returned to camp to hunker down and wait out the spy's next visit while the Civil Corps members had gone on a manhunt across the marsh and into the neighboring desert area.

So far, nothing.

They'd briefly discussed the suits again; Eli couldn't make up her mind on whether this Access suit thing was an original (less worrying) or if Duvos had figured out how to piece one together (really worrying).  Asher shared her worries -- the thought of Duvos mass producing those things for their soldiers, even if they weren't working like they did in Eli's time, would still pose a huge problem if the continent ever went to war again. ((Continued below cut))

He did know she'd given up on the trail cameras for now but she was still working on something out in the tent; it used a lot of the same pieces that she'd set aside for the cameras but also several new, different ones that she'd sent Petra and Selene after. The centerpiece of these new additions was a detached screen that she'd marked out dimensions on - she was either cutting it down to size and needed the middle-most section or she was dividing it into a rectangle and eight smaller squares that were all roughly the same size.  She hadn't done anything with the screen yet aside from measuring and marking out those squares but there were small piles of nigh identical looking chips, boards, and wires that were already assembled and sitting in a neat little line on the rubberized canvas under her cot that he assumed had to be put together first before the screens could be attached to them.  

It had been a fascinating sight to watch her work with such tiny components; he hadn't had a chance yet to ask her what those things were (interrupting her while she was working on them seemed like a poor idea since it looked so...fragile, in a way) but he was looking forward to seeing the finished product, learning what the gadgets were for, and why she needed so many of them.  It also piqued his curiosity about Old World tech in general; so much of it seemed purposely designed to work with pretty much anything else.  Maybe Old World technology didn't so much depend on the parts as it did the programs to run it...which in turn made him wonder, assuming they ever got to a point where they knew how to read and create new programs, if all the old relics could be made to work again like they did back then rather than being pieced together with spotty knowledge and prayers.  

Behind him Adam, Arlo, and Eli were all asleep inside the tent with the front flaps pulled closed to block out as much of the unusually plentiful sunlight as possible - there wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was considerably warmer today than it had been lately; he appreciated the warmth and imagined his sleeping companions probably did as well but found himself going back and forth on whether he was truly grateful for the "sunny" part of this sunny day.  On the one hand, that suit made the spy near-invisible but not intangible so they should still cast a shadow so if the spy was dumb enough to try sneaking in close in broad daylight Asher was hopeful he would spot that before they got close enough to be a danger.  On the other hand he doubted they would actually be that stupid. The constant prickle at the back of his neck - the feeling of being watched - wasn't a sensation Asher enjoyed, and it also wasn't something he was used to experiencing for such a prolonged period of time; he had no proof though that he WAS being watched, and that was probably bothering him more than the prickling was.

The grumpy sigh he huffed out whistled a bit as it exited through the gap his missing tooth had left behind; that annoyed him to no end too. Asher didn't consider himself an overly vain person but damn it he'd liked how he looked; it had taken a couple years to be at peace with the sunken in scar across his nose but at least that made him look...adventurous.  Dashing.  Daring.  A missing tooth made him look like a drunkard, and it would be a long trip to Seesai to get a replacement that wouldn't prematurely discolor.  Adam was right in that he could easily get a tooth closer to home but, again, discoloration was a problem -- whatever that woman in Seesai did to keep the false teeth from coloring was a closely guarded secret...no one knew what she did or what recipe she used, not even her family if they were to be believed.

He supposed it was a question of if he wanted to look stupid with his tooth gap or look stupid with a yellowed tooth in a few years. Neither thought was especially attractive and brought with it a sort of helpless frustration that, coupled with the prickling feeling of having eyes on him, made him want to get up and move around to burn off the pent up energy and emotion.  

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling grass; before he could truly react to the sound Eli came into view and he relaxed slightly.

"You're up - uh, early.  Or however you want to consider it."

She shrugged as she sat down on one of the rocks ringing the firepit.  "Eh, it happens.  Sometimes you just don't sleep."

"Any new ideas?"

For a time she didn't respond; silently Asher surveyed their surroundings - everything still seemed to be as it ought to be.  He still felt twitchy though...he was ready for action, or for anything that wasn't sitting here keeping watch.  Maybe with Eli awake he could exercise or something.

"Not really," Eli finally responded.  "I can think of twelve different ways to disable that suit but they all require tech that doesn't exist anymore.  And it's not something I could put together from stuff that's left here."

Asher nodded, then glanced back toward the tent; when she'd come out she'd left the tent flaps open and he could barely detect movement inside -- Arlo shouldn't be up for awhile yet but it was looking like Adam was waking up.  "So what's all that stuff you've been working on then?"

"Hi-Defs."

"I've no idea what those are."

"They're wrist-mounted computers.  A lot of their functionality isn't going to work right in this day and age but back in mine they were onboard guidance systems with maps of all the regions, could make and receive calls, they kept track of addresses and your appointments and bank accounts and whatever else you wanted to track, they could project 3D images, take pictures... They could do a lot of things depending on the model you had."

He blinked at her; only half of that had sunk in as he'd gotten a bit hung up on the concept of a wrist-mounted computer.  "Really? Why those then?  If they're not going to work right, I mean.  What will they even be able to do?"

"I want them mostly for communication and maps of this region. I'd need signal transmitters in some strategic areas but once I get it all tethered to the facility they should work.  It's going to take a lot of footwork to get maps updated since it'll have to be manual scanning rather than satellite surveillance...or, hmm.  Maybe some satellites survived."  She paused for a moment, then shook her head.  "Nah, shouldn't rely on that.  Arlo mentioned there's a space station segment out in the wastes but even if there's enough left there to scavenge I doubt I could get a link going with anything that might be left up there, and even if I managed it I still wouldn't have a way to issue orders or anything like that." There was another pause and a sigh, and a wistful glance toward the sky before she returned her attention to him.  "Mine will be the sort of central control for them all outside of whatever computer station I decide to run them off of. My aim is to give them to anyone involved with the security of this facility."  

"Huh." Him with a high tech device...not something he'd considered before.  The idea was...kind of exciting, to be honest.  "So maps and talking to one another.  Is that all we can hope for?"

"Communication and map display is, bare minimum, what I'm aiming for, with maybe a basic calendar and clock function.  I'll have a look at what I can immediately do once I've server-flashed Pauline and get at least one transmitter up for testing."

"...and you've lost me.  What's a server-flash?"

She laughed quietly.  "-right.  It's hard to determine what terms survived the years and what didn't - with Petra and Merlin it's at least a 50% shot that I don't have to define something for them.  So!   Server-flashing.  I take the main operational files for an AI and do a sort of...quick copy of their foundation.  Pauline's an AI but not a living AI so I don't need to worry about her personality or anything, just the uh...the semi-intelligent framework she runs on."

"Yeah, going to need that taken down a few degrees still.  Pauline seems just as smart as Stewart but she doesn't have personality?"

"Nope.  She's just a regular assistant AI -- a sort of input-output response machine with just enough programmed intelligence to appear sentient but she can't learn or grow as a...uh...well, not as a "person" exactly but she  -- she won't ever change.  She just is what she is.   AIs like her you could make infinite copies of and they'll never, ever stop being identical copies unless something on the outside alters them.  Stewart on the other hand, if I were to make a copy of him, that copy would develop its own personality if given enough time to learn and live and the same would happen with a regular living AI."

That...sort of made sense.  At least, it was simple enough that he could grasp it without her needing to explain it more in-depth.  "And you're going to use her to run the Hi-Defs."

"After some minor reprogramming yes."

He nodded slowly; having a little, easily accessed map right on his wrist would be neat, even if it was just of Portia.  And if it worked well here maybe it could be expanded out into the other cities and nations too...and, oh man, would that make mapping the Peripheries way easier too if all they had to do was walk through it with the Hi-Def recording or whatever it did to create the maps -- suddenly he could think of all sorts of possibilities and perks to having one of the things.  "What would be the range on these things?  How would they figure out and store maps?"

"Range depends on what kind of signal strength I can get.  Hi-Defs have their own localized signals so they'll all be able to 'talk' to one another within a certain range, and also interface with the signals coming from the transmitters at a much wider range.  I'm pretty sure I'd only need sixteen or so at some key points to cover all of Portia and a bit of the outlying areas.  As for updating or creating maps it'll have to be manual scanning -- someone is going to have to start from an already mapped point and then let the Hi-Def scan the territory as you travel through it.  It'll take awhile but the program that runs a Hi-Def is robust enough to piece it all together without too much extra work needed.  And they have their own onboard storage to hold it all."

"Neat...and amazing."  As a more comfortable silence fell Asher tossed a few thick branches onto the fire and nudged them into place with a blackened, straight branch he'd purposely kept as a sort of log poker.  If Adam was stirring too then he should probably get the fire's heat evened out so he could start cooking. "Did you end up camping a lot as a ranger?"

"Yeah.  I went camping for fun too."

He carefully poked at the fire for a moment.  "...do you miss doing that?"

There was a long pause before she answered.  "I miss a lot of things."

Asher winced a bit.  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

She shook her head and flashed him a strained smile.  "Nah, don't be afraid to ask things.  The funny thing with pain is the more you experience it, the easier it is to tolerate."

"I don't think it works that way with this kind of...you know."

With a shrug she turned to pick up the cooking kit (which was in a large leather satchel that had seen better days) that was off to the side of the firepit.  "Works well enough for now.  I don't want you guys walking on eggshells around me, and I can't hide from it forever.   Hell, I can't hide from it even if I wanted to."

Asher was quiet as she handed the satchel over; he pulled the kettle out and stood to go fill it from the water barrel they'd installed just inside the tent flaps, then came back and sat it among the coals to start boiling.  A feeling of guilt had settled like a rock in his stomach -- that had been such a stupid thing to ask her.  "If you ever want to...talk, or something.  I'll listen."

The smile she gave him this time was less strained.  "I know.  It's appreciated."

As he bent to re-arrange a few half-burned logs she got up and walked out of his immediate line of sight; behind him somewhere he heard Adam's low voice and then the man's plodding footsteps as he came over and took Eli's place on the rock.  Asher just managed to catch the sight of Eli disappearing into the tent as he glanced back but she quickly came back into view a moment later.

"I'll be back in a bit - I need to grab a few things from town."  She had her pack slung over a shoulder but it hung limp and empty.  "Don't bother cooking for me."

"All right.  If you're sure," Asher replied.

"I am." With that she began to jog toward the path that, eventually, led back into Portia.

Asher watched her go and then sighed heavily, looking over to Adam.  "You ever feel like a massive idiot sometimes?"

"Sure," Adam grunted.  "Then I remember I'm not you and feel better."

Asher rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to whack the man with the fire poker stick; when he didn't rise to the man's banter Adam gave him a strange look.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing.  I think.  How do you want your eggs this time?"

------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Xu had acquired a wooden chair with a really comfortable cushion and a small wooden table for Harrison to work at; it sat in the corner near the front doors so it would be out of the way of everything else in the clinic but its position did mean that usually, when someone walked inside, Harrison was the first thing they saw.  Already several tourists looking for headache or muscle ache cures had approached him at the table to ask after the medications, even when Dr. Xu was clearly within view at his desk further in the room.

He kept telling himself to find humor in the situation but it was starting to get a little annoying - especially after someone actually moved a stack of books out of the way to "speak to him" with Xu staring on in surprised confusion.

It was enough to have him dreading the sound of the doors opening, and so today when they slid open he actually flinched and carefully peered over the top of the book he had propped up in front of him.

To his surprise it was that girl from days ago - the one who had fallen on the driftwood and gotten it through her arm.  She looked bright eyed and chipper, with no other obvious injuries, and he inwardly groaned as she looked around, spotted him, and came right over.

"Hey there!"

"Hello.  How's the arm healing up?"

She smiled and slipped her coat off, then pulled her sleeve up to show the bandage there.  "It's all fine and dandy - itchy, but doesn't seem infected or anything."

"Well, that's good." He went silent as she pulled her sleeve back down and got her coat back on, then cleared his throat awkwardly.   "So...what did you need then?"

"Ah, hello there -- how is the arm?"

Harrison sat up a bit straighter as Xu came over; the girl gave the doctor a smile.

"It's all good.  A bit itchy but seems to be healing."

Xu nodded.  "Excellent to hear.  Now, what brings you back to the clinic?"

The girl's smile faltered a bit and Harrison swore he saw a tinge of pink appear in her cheeks.  "Ah...well, uh, I came to um.  Talk to him, actually-"  

She pointed shyly to Harrison, and he blinked at her in confusion.  Talk to him?  Why?

Xu seemed just as confused as he was.  "Oh?"

"Yeah...um, private matter."

"Huh?" Harrison blurted out.

She turned her attention back to him and rubbed at her injured arm awkwardly.  "Um.  If you have the time, anyway."

"S-sure, I guess."  

He stood up and came out from behind the table; the girl took a few timid steps toward the door and when he followed along she headed outside into a much brighter day than Harrison had been expecting.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked over to her.  "What did you need to talk to me about?  Did I do something wrong with your injury?"

She shook her head, hard; it was hard enough to dislodge a few wisps of hair from the messy bun on top of her head.  "No no nonono, nothing like that.  I was just um, wondering if you'd...like to go get coffee or lunch sometime?"

With that the woman stood there, lightly scraping the toe of her shoe into the mud; Harrison felt like someone had abruptly switched off all the lights inside his brain.  She wanted to go get coffee, with HIM?

"Uh..."

"It's ok if you don't want to," she went on in a rush.  "I don't mind.  You're probably busy.  I shouldn't have asked."

"N-no, no, it's-" Harrison interrupted.  "Ah - no one has ever asked that before.  I think my brain shut off." He offered her a weak, slightly sheepish smile, and to his surprise she returned it.   "But...why me?"

"I...dunno.  You're from Lucien, like me.  I don't meet a lot of Lucien natives when I travel around.  And, you're.  Um.  You know...cute, so I thought, why not?"

Now it felt like his ears were on fire.  "A-ah," was all he could say.

An awkward silence fell and it went on entirely too long for Harrison's liking; he was hoping she would say something...he wasn't sure WHAT, but he wanted to hear SOMETHING, anything, that would take the burden of this conversation off him until his brain caught up.

"So..."

"Ah, uh, yeah, um, sure," he said finally.  "I-I mean, if you're sure."

The girl's face brightened and she bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment.  "Hee!  Yay!  Ok, so when are you next free?"

"Later this evening?" he offered.

She nodded.  "All right then - later this evening.  Down at that restaurant in the square?  The knight one?"

Harrison nodded, feeling lightheaded; he completely missed what she said as she waved and then headed off down the hill.  Too late he returned the wave, and then leaned against the clinic doors behind him.

"What...just happened..." he muttered, rubbing at his forehead.

He, Harrison, had a date tonight.  

...wait, did she ever even give her name?

"Oh boy..."

---------------------------------------------------

"Haven't seen you in a bit," Django said as Eli walked through the door.

With all the afterimages swimming around (it was REALLY bright outside today) Eli could barely see him, and somewhat stumbled her way toward the counter.  "Been helping the Pigs out at the facility."

"Ah, that'd be it."

She managed to find a stool and sat down.  "I had to come back for some supplies and I'd like to take some treats out to the them as a surprise."

Django nodded.  "I see, hmm.  I just pulled an apple pie out of the oven, and I've got some Black Forest cake made just this morning.  Won't take long to whip anything else up either," he said as he flipped open a menu to the dessert section and slid it over to her.

"Thanks."  She picked it up and held it in front of her; with the afterimages it'd probably be another minute or two before she could clearly read it.  "Do you know if they've established any favorites?"

"I know Arlo doesn't really like sweets in general.  I haven't talked to Asher or Adam enough to know about those two."

Eli frowned; good thing she'd asked.  "All right, no sweets for Arlo then.  I know he likes spicy things at least.  How about...an order of vanilla pudding, some of that apple pie, and that spicy spaghetti stuff?"

"Sounds good."  

As Django headed off toward the kitchen Eli folded the menu properly and returned it to the pile, then leaned forward to brace her elbows on the counter and put her forehead in her hands.

Every idea she'd had so far to disable that suit all required things that weren't around anymore; the easiest would be a localized EMP to overload the projector circuits and force it into a reboot cycle where it wouldn't be able to disguise its user until it fully restarted itself.  A sliver shot would do similar in that it would disrupt the projectors by confusing its sensors with a quick burst of hard light mirror shards.  Or she could use a taser overload, or a bolt drainer, or a sys-dis (a system disabler - it would scramble all the circuit signals), or even a battery overcharger.  So many things she COULD do, if she was in her own time period...

But she wasn't, and simple ideas like trying to use water or some sort of paint or even dirt to try and short out or otherwise mark their target probably wouldn't work -- Access Suits had built in miniature shield generators evenly interspersed among the projector sensors that pulled double duty at repelling water as well as dirt, dust, or mud-like materials.  She couldn't safely rely on the hope that those generators were as damaged as the faulty projectors; if they were working correctly they might get two seconds, tops, of visual assistance if they were to try and douse the spy in something...two seconds could seem like forever in a fight but since there was no telling what else that spy might be armed with by now Eli was not about to risk anyone around her with so many unknown variables (it was as much for the spy's safety as well as their own that they be able to clearly see what they were doing the next time they clashed - she'd hated firing blindly at the spy and it'd be a really simple matter for someone to accidentally kill someone else).

"Something the matter?"

Eli jumped at the sound of Django's voice just over her shoulder.  "You walk really quietly when you want to."

Django chuckled as he moved back behind the counter; he had a few containers in hand that he neatly lined up on the counter in front of her.  "Old habits I guess, haha.  It'll be a few minutes on the spaghetti."  

She slid her pack off her back and pulled a cloth bag out of one of the front pockets, then sat it on the counter; before she could say anything Django picked it up and began to slide the containers inside.  

"It was an honest question though - something on your mind?"

Eli paused, then huffed out a sigh.  "Just trying to figure out how to hunt down a ghost, is all."

Django's eyebrows raised a bit.  "Wasn't aware we had a ghost problem outside of our haunted cave."

"Not a literal ghost," she replied, laughing quietly.  "More like someone pretending to be one."

"I see.  Not exactly your run of the mill problem to have."

With another sigh Eli rested her forehead on her hands again.  "I'm not exactly a run of the mill person."

Django nodded slowly, rubbing at his chin.  "...you know, how about we have a quick dart game while we wait on your spaghetti?"

There was something...odd, about his tone.  Eli eyed him but couldn't detect anything other than his usual smiling demeanor -- he sounded off but looked fine.

"...all right," she answered, standing up and aside as he shuffled out from behind the counter and led the way toward the back game room.

There were a few others in the restaurant; Eli found herself waving at folks as she went and narrowly dodging Toby who was waving a report card at her (she made a mental note that there were only two more months for Toby to prove he'd kept his grades up enough for training) and then she was in the game room with Django already retrieving the darts from a drawer in the prize counter.

He didn't say anything at first as he handed her the three green darts while he kept the red ones. "So.  Looking for a person pretending to be a ghost, you said?"  Django lined up a dart and then tossed it a breath later; it landed right on the border between a bullseye and the next ring out.

Eli huffed then laughed quietly.  "I feel like I'm about to lose.  Terribly."

Django tossed another one and it landed squarely inside the bullseye.  "I've had a lot of practice.  Where's this ghost person lurking?  Out at the facility?"

"...yeah," she answered after a pause.  "We have an uninvited visitor out there."

The third dart he threw, to Eli's surprise, flew well off to the left and embedded itself into the thick safety backboard that the dartboard was mounted on.  "When did this ghost show up?"

"Recently."

She watched silently as he went over and slowly took the darts down; when he was out of the way she took her first throw and it barely stayed within the board, embedding itself into a bottom right section that wasn't worth any points at all.

"Humor me.  Was it someone you think is on the smaller, lighter side?"

"I...guess.  Couldn't really get a good look at them, obviously."   Rather than taking her second throw she turned around to face him; he'd moved over to lean against the prize counter's front, arms crossed over his chest and a somewhat brooding look on his face -- seeing something other than his usual cheerful expression immediately made her forget all about the dart game. "All right, spill: what are you getting at?"

Django inhaled and exhaled slowly.  "Did Arlo tell you about that Rogue Knight we had, not too long ago?"

"Yeah, I've heard about it.  He said you were the one who was able to drive them off too.  You think this knight guy came back?"

He shook his head.  "No, I don't think your visitor is the same Rogue Knight I fought that day.  But you mentioning a ghost brought back some memories, from when I was younger.  Of a different, more dangerous knight, in her own way."

Eli walked over and dropped her remaining darts onto the counter.  "Are knights just a common thing now?"

"Not anymore.  In the older days - meaning, the older days of our current era, between the Calamity and when humanity was finally recovering - folks took up the title of knight as they fought to protect their homes and people from both man and monster alike.  Humanity didn't have much left back then...just a lot of old stories and memories of how things once were, but the legends that were even older than the Old World still managed to survive.  Such stories helped keep the survivors alive, and while it's a tradition that's been mostly overwritten by the Civil Corps and other law enforcement nowadays, there's still a fair few of us who stick to those old stories and the honor that comes with claiming the title of knight."

Eli watched him as he spoke; the brooding look had given away to something more resembling a thoughtfulness - a softer, more introspective look, and as he talked his chin was slowly dipping down so his gaze ended up on the floor just in front of his feet.

"So..." she said quietly into the pause that followed.  "Why did me mentioning a ghost make you think of another knight?"

Django finally lifted his gaze and flashed her a grim smile.  "I drove that Rogue Knight off with the belief that he wouldn't dare step foot here again.  I still believe that, in fact.  But I've been on my guard for any hints of other troublesome knights that might show up to try and finish the job he left undone.  It just so happens that I know of a woman who called herself the Ghost Knight -- I knew her when I was a younger man.  We even fought together a few times to clear out monster nests or drive off bandits."

Eli's eyes widened.  "You're kidding."

"I wish I were.  You mentioning you were looking for someone pretending to be a ghost brought her to mind."

"Who is she?  What's she look like?  Why would she be here?"

"I don't know.  I never learned her real name, and she never learned mine.  I never even saw her face - only the strange suit of armor she wore.  As for why she's here-"

"Is she a mercenary for hire?" Eli interrupted.  "What - how did - how do knights function?"  At his mildly surprised look she slumped her shoulders a bit.  "Sorry - didn't mean to interrupt you."

Django chuckled and pushed off from the counter, moving to line up to throw his darts again.  "Not a problem.  I can only guess at why she'd be here -- same reason the Rogue Knight was, I wager.  I wouldn't call her a mercenary...that's not what we did.  But, it's been over a decade since I last spoke with her, and people can change."

Eli shifted and leaned against the counter almost in the same spot he'd just vacated, putting him and the dartboard at her back as she stared a hole into the wood in front of her; if this person was this Ghost Knight that Django had known years ago then that meant it was a good chance that this spy's having an Access Suit was just...a one-off. One person who got their hands on something that actually still worked.  That was one fear off the list, at least.

"Django... How did this woman fight?  What did she do as the Ghost Knight?"

"Scouting," came his answer, quicker than she'd expected.  There was the sound of the dart thunking into the board before he continued.  "No one was better at it than her.  And in a battle she was the best flanking attacker you could hope to have on your side."

"Flanking...  Does that mean she didn't take people on in a direct manner?"

"She avoided that as much as possible but she was still capable of defending herself if she had to."  Another thunk of a dart.  "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

She turned around from the counter in time to see Django turning as well, flicking his wrist and sending the dart at the board without looking or aiming; the dart stuck into the bullseye.

"If you find this person, and manage to capture them, I would like to speak to her."

"I... I mean, I'M willing to let that happen, but I'm not a Civil Corps person.  That's not likely up to me."

Django nodded, slipping his hands into the pockets of his colorful coat.  "If you can make that happen, I'd be indebted to you...  Excuse me, I should go check the spaghetti.  It ought to be done by now."

"Yeah, sure thing.  I'll head back up to the counter."

He disappeared through a small door into the kitchen and, as she said, Eli walked out of the game room and back to the counter where the rest of her order was sitting packed neatly into the cloth sack.

She looked over a shoulder at the restaurant's patrons; there were considerably more people here now than had been when she'd first walked in, and Django had purposely wanted to talk to her about it away from others.  She really, really wanted to ask him more about how this Ghost Knight woman fought, or where she'd come from, or--

'I'll come back when it's not busy, or maybe I can catch him at home.'

That he'd admitted he'd been on the lookout for any other trouble-making knights worried her...maybe she should also split her history lesson time between Isaac and Django.  

------------------------------------------------

"Bye, see you tomorrow!"

Django gave Sonia a small wave and a smile as she headed out the front door; there were a few spots left to sweep and then he could put out the lights and head home himself.

Normally he enjoyed the absolute silence of the restaurant late at night - it gave him time to daydream, or plan for the next day's operations.  Tonight though... He couldn't help but think of that Ghost Knight.  Everything he could recall about her had come flooding back in a rush when Eli had mentioned someone pretending to be a ghost; any other time he would have dismissed it as silly old memories but now...

He bent and swept up dirt into the dustpan, and then moved to carry it over to the waste bin.

Ever since he'd driven that rogue knight off he'd been constantly vigilant for any hint, no matter how small, that someone else had arrived to plunge Portia into chaos.  He imagined most people would think he was being paranoid without reason and so had kept such worries to himself...maybe he shouldn't have done that.  Portia's residents had been panicked at first and demanding more protections from the Civil Corps folks after the knight incident but, as time wore on, they'd fallen back into their lives without fear of outside threats; would anything be different now if Django had shared his worries with Gale?

"Too late for that," he muttered to himself.

He swept up the last little dust pile and dumped it into the bin, then went to put the dustpan and broom away.

Once everything but a single lamp was powered down he dipped behind the front counter; for the most part he stored napkins, silverware, and small dessert plates behind here but after that Rogue Knight had left he'd started stashing a small box out of sight behind the formal cloth napkins that were only used during holidays.

The box was about the length of his hand from fingertips to the heel of his palm, and was just barely shy of being perfectly square.  Django popped the latch open and lifted the lid to reveal a delicate-looking pair of gloves made of silvery wires, each with a single wire that was much longer than the others that ended in a tiny plug; they were very hard to see among the loose cloth that padded the inside of the box, and he knew from experience that even when worn they were difficult to spot.

As he looked the gloves over he had his usual mixed feelings about them; hidden beneath his shirt and jacket were a pair of matching armbands hugging his biceps that had very small charge generators on it -- wearing the gloves with the lead wire plugged in allowed him to charge up and release a controlled shock that went off with a bang, a bright flash of light, and repelled anything he hit along with delivering a strong sting to his target.  

Much like the memories of the Ghost Knight now all his memories of having found these relics came rushing back; he'd once been a young, stupid man, with lofty ideals about what it meant to be a knight without truly understanding anything about knighthood.  He'd thought that finding these gloves had been the ultimate stroke of luck -- something to make him an unstoppable force of good in the world.  He'd been hilariously proven wrong, over and over, until he began to treat them as tools to compliment his own skill, rather than relying entirely on them.  

When he finally understood what the gloves true purpose ought to be he began to win more often and eventually they had earned him the title of Storm Knight; when he'd realized that his dependence on them had basically shaped his reputation he had almost thrown them away. The fear that someone else would make the same mistakes he did (or worse - that someone would use them to harm others) had made him keep them, and steadily he relied on them less and less over the years until he'd mothballed them five years before he retired. The Rogue Knight had been threat enough that Django had felt the need to take the gloves out of storage and thankfully with them - and with his reputation - that had been enough to scare the knight off.  

The problem with this Ghost Knight was Django knew reputation alone wouldn't drive her away.  She had fallen into the same pitfalls he had: thinking that Old World technology made her invincible, or at the very least better than everyone else.  Rather than learning and improving she had stagnated...and he'd watched it happen.

"You could have been one of the best..." he sighed, closing the box and tucking it under an arm.

She really could have been...maybe he should have fought her harder on her reliance on that suit.  Maybe she would have listened if he'd fully explained his own mistakes with the gloves.  Maybe he could have trained with her to show her there was a more honorable way of living. But then again, maybe there wasn't some magical combination of words that would have swayed her to his side and stopped her from getting mad and literally stabbing him in the back.

As he headed to the front door he reached his free hand around to rub at a spot on his lower back.  That old scar ached and itched when it was cold or wet outside but it was an old wound he'd learned to ignore; tonight it was a dull throbbing pain - probably exacerbated by the sweeping, or so he told himself before pausing to really examine that thought.

There used to be an old wives tale about how an injury caused by a mortal enemy would burn and ache when that enemy was nearby.  The Ghost Knight had been his companion once...he didn't think for a moment that they could be friends again but he could spare a bit of hope that the old tale was true and that he would know exactly when he was needed if it was truly her in the region.

[diredigression]

Abernathy Farm

The next installment in Sole’s post-frozen-dinner adventures!

You may notice I’ve changed tense and also some other dialectical details to better match the voice in Sole’s head. I'm also attempting to write Sole with PTSD, but I don't have actual experience with it so CC welcome!

CW: some violence, some PTSD

————————————————

The next day, all sign of the barely-sentient body that she had spoonfed for days is gone. Mr.. Garvey is once again the confident, in-charge Minuteman she met in Concord. “Sturges, great job on the construction! This place is practically draft-proof. And you’ve even got gardens and a water supply? Always knew I could count on you.”

Mr. Sturges hides a slight blush under a wide grin. “This place is really coming together, huh? I can’t take all the credit, though. Sole and Codsworth have really put the interior and garden together, not to mention taking over all the cooking duties!”

Mr. Garvey turns to her. “Thank you, Sole. I can’t say how lucky we are to have you with us.”

She smiles and bows her head delicately at the acknowledgment. “Just doing my part, Mr. Garvey. But, if I may, why did you call me Sole?”

He laughs, a belly-deep sound of delight. She recognizes this, logically, though her brain doesn’t connect with an echoing joy. “No need for ‘Mister Garvey’ here. Hell, you just saved us from a deathclaw and fed me for days. I think that puts us on first-name basis.” His tone suddenly switches to somber and hesitant. “He called you ‘Sole’ because that’s all you gave us instead of a name…You just said ‘I’m the sole survivor.’ What is your name? …Do you know it?”

I’m the sole survivor. She distantly feels a pressure in her chest, like the unease of far-off thunder. Name. She has a name, right? She fights to bring her mind back to the present question, racking her memories, but all she can reliably bring up is the past few days of work. And flashes of scenes, more feeling than picture. The desolation of her first view of the waste, from the top of the vault. The clinical unfamiliarity of the vault suit she still wears.

The vault of death.

Invisible chains suddenly bind her chest and she finds herself collapsing to the ground. Both men rush to her side, but her arm flails to swat them away as she buries her face in her knees and curls around herself as tightly as she can. She freezes there, unaware of the men watching or the passage of time, until the panic finally begins to ease its grip.

She raises her head, muscles still tense, and finds herself looking into the two men’s concerned faces.

“Sole? You okay?”

Her eyes drop. She breathes. Out, in. Out, in. Until she knows her panic is locked away again.

Then she plasters a carefree smile on her face and begins struggling to push herself upright. Mr. Garvey offers a hand, which she accepts.

“I’m so sorry about that, I’m perfectly alright. Just a little lightheaded. Yes, please, just call me Sole. I’m afraid I’ll need to rest for some time, but I’ll see you gentlemen for dinner, yes?”

The concern stiffens on Mr. Sturges’ face and deepens on Mr. Garvey’s. The two men look at each other.

“Very well,” says Mr. Garvey. “Sleep well, Sole.

———

After breakfast the next morning, Mr. Garvey begins filling a pair of packs. Mr. Sturges raises an eyebrow.

“Where we headed?”

Mr. Garvey frowns at the small pile of goods in front of him. “I think I heard of a settlement just west of us. We’ve made a really good start here, but we’re running out of supplies. I figure we go see if they have anything they can spare.”

Mr. Sturges nods. “I could use some materials for crafting too.”

Sole listens to their conversation from the kitchen, where she washes breakfast dishes in a bucket of water. More survivors nearby?

“Hey Sole, you met the neighbors yet?”

She starts. “Nossir, I haven’t.”

“Wanna join the welcome party?”

“I’ll come along if you’d like.”

“It’s a party then!”

Sole helps pack some food for the trip. Pretty soon they’re ready to go. As they pull on their packs, a round silver robot floats into the room.

“Mum? May I have a moment?”

“Of course, Codsworth. What is it?”

The robot lifts two of his long, jointed arms towards her. In the end clamps is held a silver softball bat. It’s clean and shiny, but scratched, and the Red Rockettes logo is still faintly visible. The handle is wrapped in athletic tape that has greyed and lost its stickiness, beginning to unravel.

“Oh, Codsworth! My bat, you kept it ready for me!”

“Of course, mum, I know how important your softball is to you. I’d hoped you’d have a chance to use it again.”

She takes the bat and automatically shifts into a casual batting stance. The weight of the aluminum is familiar in her hands, and a smile appears on her face as she takes a careful practice swing.

“Nice swatter you’ve got!” says Mr. Garvey. “That’ll be a good weapon for you, since you didn’t seem too comfortable with guns.”

Her joy turns to disgust and she clutches the bat to her chest, forgetting her manners. “What?! No, this is for softball! This isn’t a weapon!”

“Haha, what? I don’t know what vault you came from, but no one’s played softball or baseball in two hundred years. Surprised they didn’t mention it. Weapon’s all it’s good for now. I bet Sturges could mod it for you to make it more effective.”

There’s a lot to unpack in his statement, but Sole chooses to focus on the simplest part. The rest gets locked away. The rest, for now, doesn’t exist. “No, Mr. Sturges is not touching my bat. Codsworth, thank you, now please take this back and keep it safe for me for now.”

“Yes, mum.”

Mr. Garvey frowns. The bat safely out of harm’s reach again, Sole has lost her bravery and feels a familiar fear and shame begin to knot in her stomach at the sight. Dammit, she’s spoken out too bluntly. She’s hesitant and worried now. “What is it, Mr. Garvey?”

“…It’s just Preston, and I just want you to have a weapon. You need to be able to defend yourself. You know that, right?”

She does not, and she doesn’t know how to respond either. She folds her hands together in front of her and looks at the floor.

“Okay…do you know how to fight with a knife?” A head shake no. “A 10 mil?” No. “…knuckles? Can you punch?” No.

He sighs. “Even Diamond City residents are better prepared than this. Okay. Do you think you could swing a crowbar?”

She has nothing else to do, so she nods.

“Good. Sturges should have one lying around, and I’ve got some spare armor we can at least put you in. I’m not letting you go around unprotected.”

She allows herself to be dressed in the bulky leather armor. Soon she’s following Mr. Garvey out of Sanctuary, the heavy crowbar hanging awkwardly from her hand.

—————

Sole is harvesting melons, young miss Lucy Abernathy’s request in exchange for a few stims and some other supplies Mr. Garvey had requested, when she overhears him and the family patriarch talking in low tones.

“Most of them died. They gave their lives to protect the Commonwealth. It’s just me now.”

“That’s a damn shame. Those were brave men and women. If y’all had been here when those raiders hit, my daughter Mary might still be alive. Then again…feels like we’ve been on our own for a long time anyway.”

“Damn…I’m sorry to hear that. I wish we could’ve helped. You have my condolences. Is there anything we could do to help now?”

Mr. Abernathy had been despondent, hanging in the air as if the only thing keeping him upright was an invisible string at the nape of his neck. At first he just shrugs, head drooping and swaying gently. Then he pauses, then straightens slightly.

“I don’t have much to offer, but…Those raiders that killed Mary, they took her locket, too. It’s been in Connie’s family for generations. If you could get it back…it’d mean a lot to us.”

Mr. Garvey straightens his hat proudly. “I’d be honored to. You have my word as a Minuteman, I will do everything in my power to return that locket to you and Connie.”

Mr. Abernathy nods, a specter of a smile finally appearing on his face. You might be the one to make me believe the word of a Minuteman again. Thank you, Garvey.”

They shake hands and part. Sole gathers up the melons and heads towards the ramshackle house.

—————

They crouch behind a barbed-wire fence, watching the forested, still remains of USAF Satellite Station Olivia. Mr. Garvey watches the station from her left, while Codsworth hovers at her right, his thruster humming in the quiet. She’s not sure why she’s here or still armored or why Mr. Garvey is suddenly so cautious. He had just assumed she would join, so she did. They had stopped briefly at Sanctuary to reorganize their new supplies, talked briefly with Mr. Sturges, who had chosen to stay behind, and also talked with Codsworth, who had insisted on coming with Sole. Mr. Garvey’s laser musket is in his hands, while Codsworth’s three eyestalks scan the surroundings fretfully. Sole grips her crowbar tighter as their tension fills her.

Mr. Garvey turns to her. “The place looks empty, maybe they’re out somewhere else, but we can’t be sure,” he whispers. “We’re gonna try to just get in, find the locket, and get out. No heroics, no unnecessary risk. Stay well behind Codsworth and me and try to stay out of trouble. Got it?”

She’s not sure she gets much of anything. She nods anyway.

“Alright. Stay here for the moment until Codsworth and I give the all-clear.” He looks at the robot, who bobs an agreement. The two cross the fence and stalk towards the structures.

They’ve made it halfway when the ground erupts beneath them. A pack of malformed, dog-sized animals surrounds them, attacking. Sole screams, forgetting their attempts at subtlety. Mr. Garvey roars too, and the area lights up with his laser bolts and Codsworth’s flamethrower. The creatures’ screams are added to the din.

Then Mr. Garvey pauses and gestures wildly past the robot. “It’s mined!”

A massive explosion erupts. Sole is knocked backwards, and she scrambles to get her head under her hands. She huddles there where she’s landed, hiding under her hands, waiting for the next attack.

There’s only silence.

After several moments of frantic heartbeats, she summons the courage to turn and crawl back to the fence. The area in front of the station is now a dark blast zone, animal carcasses scattered around. She doesn’t look too closely at them. She releases a breath as she finds Mr. Garvey and Codsworth, singed but alive, picking themselves off the ground. Mr. Garvey rubs his ears, shakes his head vigorously, retrieves his musket, then looks towards her and gestures Come here. She crosses the fence and hesitantly picks her way forward, scanning for more of the creatures.

“Don’t worry, I think we got them all. You okay?”

“What on earth just happened? Are you okay? Codsworth?”

“These idiots apparently decided that strapping mines to a molerat was a good defense mechanism. It’s amazing they didn’t blow themselves up. We’ll have to keep an eye out for more traps inside.”

“Molerats? No. They don’t get that big. No. They must be…uh…”

Mr. Garvey frowns as she flounders, but Codsworth floats up and pats her shoulder with a claw, awkward and a little overly aggressive. “No worries, mum, they’re gone now. You don’t have to bother with them anymore.”

She stares at him, searching for confidence in the large glass eyes and finding enough to ease her panic slightly. “Alright. Um. I left the crowbar…” She runs back to grab it from where it dropped and returns. Mr. Garvey looks to the station door, breathes deeply, and opens it.

———————

The station is quiet. They make it to the bottom with no problems. They separate and begin searching the scattered toolboxes and desks for the locket.

“Hey, I found a key!” Mr. Garvey calls. “Think it opens that security door?”

It does, and he murmurs a small “Yes!” at the sight of the room and the supplies it contains. He quickly loops it, throwing the assorted weaponry into his pack. One item—is that a mini nuke?!—he cradles gently and wraps in a cloth before carefully stowing.

Then Codsworth’s aggressive shout from where he’d been stationed on guard in the hallway. “Hello! Fancy a bit of fist-a-cuffs, do we?”

Mr. Garvey whips around to Sole—”Stay here!”—grabs his musket and charges into the hallway. Sole freezes in a corner of the room. Yells come from the hallway.

A man charges into the room where Sole cowers. She notices the remarkably straight mohawk on his otherwise-bald head. She notices the cloth strips wrapping his arms and the armor pads on his legs and chest. She notices the knife in his hand. She notices the gaps in his teeth as he grins rabidly at her and shouts, “Come on, little girl! Let’s do this!”

Sole is frozen. The man dodges towards her, almost like a herding dog expecting a sheep to flee, but then realizes she’s not moving. His wild grin widens. “Too fuckin easy.” He moves closer.

The sound from the hallway fades as Sole’s world spirals down to the filthy face approaching her. Her breathing is rapid; his is heavy and gasping. He approaches until his face is right in hers. He raises the knife to her face. She can smell his rank breath and, separately, his rank body. He looms over her, and she manages to move just enough to stumble back, away from him, into a corner. He follows, never letting the distance increase. The sharp tip of the knife gently scrapes down her face. His eyes follow, and descend lower down her body, the grin never fading. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing.”

She can feel the crowbar in her hand, but she can’t manage to use it, even in the face of certain danger. His eyes return to her face. As he meets her eyes, she realizes that his are a startling light blue. They would be handsome, if he weren’t currently pressing a knife against her face. She realizes that he’s very young. Certainly much younger than she is. Just a boy, really. What is he doing here? What is he doing with a knife?

“Sorry, girly. It was fun while it lasted.” The boy’s grin turns to a snarl as he retracts the knife and then shoves it into her side.

————————

“Sole! Sole!”

“Mum!”

Her consciousness slowly returns to her body. Her arms are still flailing, and she stills them. Mr. Garvey rushes towards her and grabs her shoulders, pulling the crowbar from her limp hands.

“I’m so sorry we let him get through! There was a minigun…ah hell, you’re bleeding! Where are you hurt? Here, sit down…maybe not here…come over here…” He leads her to a chair, catching her when she takes a step and nearly falls. The stumble pulls her side, and she realizes it hurts. Mr. Garvey pulls off her armor and Codsworth digs through a pack. A blinding pain in her side; then, slowly, the pain is replaced by the itch of flesh stitching back together, beginning from deep under her ribcage.

Her eyes begin to clear. She watches Mr. Garvey replace the top on a bottle of alcohol. She glances over his shoulder.

The man—the boy—is there. He’s on the floor. His head has been replaced by a bloody pulp.

She leans over and vomits.

[kenzieam]

The Call of the Void - Chapter Seven (Bucky and Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, mentions of torture and abuse, eventual smut, angst)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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**Potential Triggers, please read with caution**

Hey guys.... sorry, it’s been awhile since I updated The Call..... please forgive me and I hope this offering was worth the wait! There’s some fluff, some smut, some humor..... maybe a bit of angst and drama.......

*******************************************************************************************

Bucky turned his head, his lips brushing Nika’s ear. “I want you.” He breathed, his voice low and rough. His arms tightened slightly as he remembered their earlier conversation. “I mean... only if you-”

Nika cut him off, turning and pressing a kiss to his lips, delighting in the way he seemed to melt against her. “Fuck yes, I do.”

Bucky’s grip on Nika’s hip tightened as they entered the Tower, belying his excitement and Nika couldn’t stop her own eager grin. Laying out her past to Bucky had stirred up old fears and anxieties but she couldn’t in the farthest reaches of her imagination picture Bucky treating her in that way. She wanted to have new memories, good memories, of Bucky rising above her, muscles straining as he groaned her name, pleasure filling her as he thrust deep, hearing him almost whimper as he spilled inside her; not pain, not the twisted sneer of HYDRA agents, their rough hands and slaps, their piggish snorts as they finished, rolling off with a satisfied grunt.

She felt her pulse beginning to race and curled her arm around Bucky’s waist in silent answer to his touch, her heart skyrocketing when she felt him shiver against her, her enhanced hearing catching his barely audible moan.  

“Mr. Stark needs everyone in the main briefing room.” FRIDAY’s voice was crisp.

“What?!” Sam demanded. “We just got back!”

“It is important, Mr. Wilson.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, I’m taking a damn shower first!”

Nika could have sworn the AI’s response was pissy. “I will inform Mr. Stark.”

Steve sighed, glancing apologetically at the team. “Everyone take a shower, get collected. FRIDAY? Tell Tony we’ll all be there in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Wordlessly Bucky and Nika parted. They didn’t need to speak, their eyes communicated for them. Shower, see what Tony wants, then we’re disappearing and coming out when we damn well feel like it. There was no way they could start something and pull away again for a meeting; this dam had been held back for too long.  

The shower felt divine but reminded Nika of the wound in her thigh; upon closer inspection she could see that it was already half-healed, and she decided to forgo a visit to the medical labs, it no longer needed stitches, just butterfly bandages and tagaderm.  

Her thoughts drifted as water cascaded down her body, imaging Bucky’s hands instead, his body pressed tight to hers as he stood under the spray with her, fingers massaging her scalp, rubbing the knots from her shoulders, trailing lower and lower as his lips grew more demanding at her throat....

Shaking herself Nika cursed her wandering mind and the heat it flared between her legs, she couldn’t show up to the team meeting a pliant, panting mess, she needed to clamp down on this now. A shock of ice-cold water helped and she shivered gratefully as all thoughts of Bucky were temporarily shuttered, locked away. She waited for the inevitable flash of fear, of haunting memories to dredge up, the bone-numbing cold of cryofreeze, the hiss of arctic that snarled in her ears and bit deep into her skin to sneak up on her, but it never came; the residual warmth of her thoughts of Bucky were enough to keep the chill at bay.  

Toweling dry she quickly dressed and hurried down the corridor, detouring on her way to the kitchen and grabbing a handful of protein bars, pausing, then stuffing another handful into her hoodie pocket. She’d probably be robbed blind by the others as soon as they detected food, and she wanted to have at least two bars left for herself and Bucky.

Tony was pacing impatiently when Nika arrived, but she was saved from receiving the brunt of his frustrations by the rest of the team, appearing from various corridors like magic. Irritably he shooed them into the briefing room, flapping his hands at them until they settled then collapsed into his chair with a frustrated sigh.  

“We have a new problem-” he broke off with a scowl as the wrapper Nika was trying to open quietly rustled rather loudly. “I said-”

“Hey! Give me one! I’m starving.” Sam reached his hand across the table, making ‘gimme’ fingers until Nika relented and tossed him a protein bar.  

“Got a spare one, kid?” Steve asked, grinning sheepishly, his grin widening when Nika smirked and sent one skidding down the table towards him. She glanced at her sister and Clint, not even needing to ask and sent a few in their direction as well.

“Can I have one?” A voice husked in her ear, lips brushing her skin and she shivered, glancing over at Bucky, his eyes dark and glittering.  

Nika purposefully licked her bottom lip, pulse racing at his breathy growl then held one out. Still holding her gaze Bucky reached over and took it, making sure to cover her hand with his as he did, letting his fingers slide off her hand slowly.  

She could almost hear Tony’s eyes rolling so she turned to him with a teasing smile. “Do you want one?”

Tony shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Children.” He muttered under his breath. Raising his head he startled slightly when Nika tossed him a bar and it bounced on the table in front of him, making the team hide their snickers behind their half-eaten bars. “Alright, I see you’re full of piss and vinegar, and it looks like you finally let Frosty catch you; it’s about time, I was getting sick of seeing his sorry-ass puppy dog eyes every day. But! Getting down to business, as I was saying before Romper Room started, we have a new problem.”

“Enlighten us,” Steve quipped, clapping his hands with a very un-Captain America-like squeal when Nika tossed him her remaining protein bar, earning a glower from Sam and muffled chuckle from Bucky.  

Exhaling heavily, throwing both Steve and Nika a ‘I suffer you to live’ glare he cleared his throat and began. “As part of my agreement with the government to defend and protect the country, I have access to any and all satellites in the air, the ones they acknowledge publicly and the ones they don’t; yesterday I saw this.”  

Pressing some keys he turned to look at the display on the wall, where a series of satellite images came up, showing what it took Nika a moment to realize was a snow-covered landscape with small vehicles and even smaller people swarming around it.

“Northern Siberia. The site of the bunker we found you in, Nika. HYDRA has decided to revisit it.”

The team muttered uneasily amongst themselves, playfulness over protein bars forgotten.  

“Now,” Tony continued. “We blasted it to all hell and gone when we left, I mean vaporized and there was no recognizable remains left, I scanned it myself, but HYDRA’s out there for a reason and if they somehow figure out that Nika’s not part of the body count then we’ve got a problem. I wish they’d waited a few years so that godforsaken eternal blizzard up there could have completely buried the site, but they didn’t, so we have to prepare now.”

Nika was confused. “Prepare for what?”

Tony frowned at her, like she was missing something devastatingly obvious. “Your sister is a known member of the Avengers. The only organization out there with the technology to find and destroy a site like that, besides HYDRA, is the Avengers. If they figure out you’re not part of the corpsicle mincemeat down there, they’re going to realize that we have you. And they know we helped purge their shit from Frosty’s mind, so they’re going to assume the same about you.”

Nika still didn’t understand. “But... I’m Experiment 847-52X, the ‘X’ meaning ‘failure’, I’m worthless to them, that’s why they left me up there to rot in the first place!”

“And, by fixing their mistakes, we’ve created a fresh mind for them to re-educate. One that just so happens to retain their physical training and has been taught even more here.” Tony replied. “Until we figure out what HYDRA has deducted from the site, and what they plan to do, I think you need to stay quarantined in the Tower, and sit out on missions as well.”

Nika gaped at Tony for a second in shock, then scoffed and glanced around at the team, expecting to see the matching scorn, but instead saw the same worrying concern as on Tony’s face. She snapped her head back to him.

“You’re over-reacting.” She shook her head for a moment then leapt to her feet, violet eyes blazing. “No! I lost fourteen goddamn years to HYDRA, I am not letting them take another second from me. I will not hide out in the Tower like a scared little bunny. Let them come for me, let ‘em fucking try!” Whirling she sprinted from the room, slamming the door, her rage a palpable heat left behind. 

“Well that went better than I expected.” Tony grumbled as the door slam echoed through the room.  

“I’ll talk to her,” Bucky mumbled, climbing to his feet.  

“Just keep her in the Tower until we can talk sense into her.” Tony replied wearily before turning his attention to the rest of the team.  

This news was like an ice-cold shower on Bucky’s desire. Fear coiled in his gut, anxiety knotting his muscles. The thought of HYDRA coming back for Nika had always been a distant possibility, but looked like a certainty now. HYDRA had tried to re-capture Bucky a few times already, but had never been successful, and Bucky was in no way willing to gamble with Nika’s life that way, she was staying in the Tower even if he had to tie her down himself.  

He sighed in barely disguised relief when he entered the corridor and saw Nika furiously stabbing at the keypad on her door, muttering darkly under her breath in a way that would have been absolutely adorable under any other circumstance. Glancing over to see Bucky walking towards her she sighed loudly.  

“Don’t bother trying Bucky. I’m not going to hi-”

“Hide, I know. And I don’t expect you to.”

Nika paused then, turning to stare at Bucky with suspicion. “You of all people I would expect to be first in line with the rope.” Nika replied, narrowing her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Staying in the Tower is not hiding, it’s being smart.”

“Semantics.” Nika scoffed and turned back to tap at the keypad, it chimed another wrong combination and she growled furiously, slamming it with her fist and eliciting another pleasantly mocking, slightly garbled, musical chime in answer. Bucky reached past her and covered her hand with his, stilling her movements. Taking a step closer he pressed his chest to her back and breathed deeply. His hunger for Nika had only been temporarily muffled by the news, being back in her personal space was flaring his blood all over again.  

“Don’t let your anger and indignation rule your better judgement,” he murmured, turning his head to whisper directly in her ear. “We just want you to be smart and lay low for a few days until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Nika arched her spine, brushing her ass against his groin, stirring his still half-hard cock back to life. Bucky hissed in her ear as a fresh wave of excitement crashed over him.

“And are you going to help me lie low?” Nika asked, her voice dropping to a purr. The proximity of their bodies seemed enough to evaporate her anger and replace it with desire the same as Bucky’s.  

“Baby, I’ll do whatever you want.” Bucky groaned, letting go of her hand against the keypad and wrapping it around her, pulling her tight against him. Her ass rubbed his straining cock again and he gave a strangled moan. Nika tapped the keypad again and this time it chirped affirmative, blinking a merry green before audibly unlocking the door.  

Nika took the first step inside then Bucky took over, pushing her the rest of the way with his body. He was shaking, panting with barely-leashed desire and he could hear and smell the same yearning on Nika. He turned back towards her after locking the door behind him and barely had time to brace himself as Nika leapt at him, wrapping her legs around him, their lips crashing together. Bucky stumbled backwards, hitting the door with a thump but recovered instantly, grabbing Nika’s ass with one hand and the back of her head with the other, grinding their mouths together in a heated, desperate, long overdue kiss.  

He tried to pull back, to search Nika’s eyes to make sure she truly was ready, truly did want this, because goddammit, once he started he sure the hell wasn’t going to be able to stop but Nika read his mind.  

“Yes Bucky,” she groaned. “Yes, I’m ready. I want this-” she moaned as Bucky squeezed her ass hard. “I want you, don’t make me wait anymore-”

Bucky stumbled to the bed, heart threatening to explode right out of his chest. Even in his skirt-chasing prime he’d never been this head-over-heels and the seventy plus years since he’d been in this situation only made him that much more out of control; fuck, he wasn’t going to last long.

Dropping Nika on the bed he crawled over her, capturing her mouth and devouring it, trying to slow himself down enough to avoid creaming his jeans like a rank amateur, but Nika had other plans; Bucky nearly exploding in her hand when she snaked it into his sweatpants and gripped his straining shaft, stroking up and down a few times before Bucky pulled away with a growl.

“I can’t take much of that, baby.” Reaching under her shirt hem he yanked upwards, stripping Nika of it and stretched her arms above her head before trailing his lips downwards. Ripping off her bra he laved attention at first one perfect breast then the other, his cock so goddamn hard it was painful before continuing lower, pulling Nika’s sweats off and trailing rapid-fire kisses up her thighs until he reached her core. Panting, he glanced upwards for permission, saw answering desire in Nika’s eyes and dropped his head, covering her with his mouth.  

His first taste was even sweeter than he’d dreamed and his cock twitched, trapped against the fabric of his sweats, threatening to spill before he’d even had a chance to bury it in her wet heat and Bucky pulled away, just for a moment, to regain control, but Nika’s moan nearly set him off again. Her hand tangled into his hair, pulling deliciously hard.

“Bucky-” she breathed, hips arching beneath him. He reached up and held them down, gave her a teasing kitten lick that made her mewl, sending a jolt of fire through him. He dove in again, licking and sucking and laving at her clit, moaning at her heavenly taste and then she was trembling around him, crying out as her orgasm hit hard and fast and Bucky slowed, guiding her gently back down before pressing one last kiss to her trembling flesh and raising his head, face glistening, his grin wide.  

Nika lay slack, panting, absolutely wrecked and Bucky could wait no longer. His nails scratched at his skin as he yanked his sweats off, pumping his suffering cock a few times as he rose above her. Nika opened her eyes and smiled at him, reaching down to grab his hips, thighs falling open for him.

Shit, shit. SHIT. “Nika, I don’t have a condom.” Fuck, Bucky screamed in his mind, great job dumbass-

“It’s okay, I’m covered,” Nika replied, arching her hips up to brush against him and a strangled groan tore from Bucky’s throat. The thought of being bare inside Nika was almost enough to finish him right now.  

“Fuck-” Bucky groaned. He shuddered, almost sobbing at his first sweet push inside her, then froze as he bottomed out, buried to the hilt, trying to regain some form of control before his release crashed over him like a tidal wave. His entire body quivered and trembled, never before had he been so in danger of losing control like this, in any way. She squeezed him like the sweetest vice, incredibly tight and warm, completely wrecking him.  

Nika moaned, arching at the satisfying stretch of Bucky deep inside her, the way he filled her completely then he was moving, slowly at first then harder and faster, his thrusts precise and powerful; knees digging into the mattress, spine arching, the sculpted muscles of his ass clenching and relaxing with each stroke. Almost sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the raw ecstasy, Nika wrapped her legs around Bucky’s hips, drawing him deeper and deeper inside and his answering groan was ragged and wrecked, barely holding on; dragging Nika all too willingly into a second climax, pleasure shooting through her like she’d never felt before then Bucky threw his head back with a roar, thrusting sloppily a few times before spilling inside her, head dropping to the crook of her neck with a groan as his body continued to press into her, filling her completely with his seed.

Finally, panting, he lowered himself fully, moving to fall beside her but Nika tightened her grip, keeping him covering her body.

“You’re like a big warm blanket,” she mumbled, all but purring against him. Bucky gave in, letting his body settle on hers, curling around her; he was still inside her, still semi-hard and a fresh wave of desire coiled low in his gut when Nika rolled her hips against him. Super soldier stamina; he went instantly, insanely hard inside her again as Nika nuzzled against his throat, nipping the delicate skin just below his ear as she rolled her hips a second time, not caring about their combined fluids seeping from her, coating her thighs and the bed below.  

She pulled her head out of the crook of his neck enough to meet his hungry gaze then smirked, tightening her legs around his hips. With a quick snap she rolled, pulling a willing Bucky beneath her and rose above him, still impaled on his cock, knees resting on the mattress. His hands dropped to her thighs with a groan as she rocked her hips experimentally in this new position.  

Nika dropped her head back with a moan as Bucky reached up to cup the swell of her breast, arching into his touch. With his other hand he gripped her hip, encouraging her to start moving. She complied and he groaned, a guttural, long and low growl as fresh ecstasy roared through his veins.  

“Fuck, baby-” his head dropped back into the pillow as his hips thrust up to meet her, burying himself deliciously deep, heat rushing through him at Nika’s breathy moan, her whimpering his name.  

Still ravenous, still too hungry for each other to go slowly, Bucky suddenly sat up, pulling Nika to his chest and capturing her mouth as he continued to drive upwards into her. Her answering pornographic moan nearly undid him right there and then she was stealing his breath kissing him back, consuming him body and soul, whimpering against his lips as another climax crashed over her, and the bliss was too great, the sensations too overwhelming for Bucky to resist and he surrendered with a groan, letting the waves of ecstasy crash over him; steal his breath, his heart, his soul as he pulsed, throbbed and spilled his willing seed inside her, inside the woman who had completely ensnared him, right from the beginning, the woman he’d waited a century for.  

Vision greying at the edges, Bucky collapsed backwards, pulling Nika with him. He couldn’t ever remember ever feeling like this before, this satisfied, so soul-deep peaceful. Words completely failed him but Nika seemed to understand, curling into his side with a breathy sigh, their bodies still trembling with aftershocks.  

For a long while Bucky floated, caught in blissful oblivion, too sated, too satisfied to do anything more. Idly, his fingers trailed up and down Nika’s bare spine, aimless but needing to feel her softness beneath him. Her fingers did the same, tracing random patterns across his chest, her touch not faltering when she brushed his scars, not hesitating, unafraid and accepting of them. Warmth flowed from her caress, filling the cracks in his wounded psyche, his battered soul.  

He had almost fallen asleep, lulled by the peace of the moment when Nika spoke.

“I don’t want to be ‘Nika’ anymore.”

Bucky blinked, lost. This was somewhat random. “What do you mean?” Even if his senses had been fully functional, which they certainly weren’t, he’d have trouble interpreting this.

She raised her head, amethyst gaze meeting supernatural blue. “You were ‘Bucky’ before everything happened, before HYDRA, before Winter Soldier, you had ‘Bucky’ to return to after. I’ve always been ‘Nika’, sold to the program, stolen to HYDRA, abandoned in Siberia.... but I’m not that anymore, I don’t want to be.”            

“You want a new name?”

She nodded, burrowing back against his chest. “It’s stupid, I know-”

She broke off as Bucky gripped her chin, lifted her head to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not. It makes perfect sense.” His mind sluggishly kicked into gear; there were few names out there worthy of the woman in his arms; but one came to him.  

“Levka.”

“Levka?”

“It’s your middle name, isn’t it? It’s perfect.” Bucky raised his head, pulling her to him to caress his lips against hers tenderly before pulling back. “Lioness, it’s perfect. My Russian Lioness.”        

“Lev.” She repeated, warming to it.

“Levi,” Bucky countered with a grin, like ‘When the Levee Breaks’.

“Levi.” The newly named Levi dropped her head back to Bucky’s chest. “Bucky and Levi.”

“Forever.” Bucky murmured.            

*********************************************************************************************

Levi reached over, snagging Bucky’s gloved hand and squeezing. He squeezed back and Levi felt herself relax infinitesimally, drawing in a deep breath. It had been over a month since her last mission, and despite herself, nerves were creeping in. Although the emotions had been there, under the surface, Levi hadn’t been romantically involved with Bucky on the last mission, and their new intimacy brought extra tension to Levi’s thoughts. She would not be able to handle it if anything happened to him, if the man who so completely owned her, body, mind and soul, was to die or disappear.  

Sensing her tension, Bucky leaned over, his lips tickling Levi’s ear when he spoke.

“Are you okay, babe? You’re all tensed up.”

“Nervous.” Levi admitted.  

Bucky nodded, he was less than comfortable with the situation too. In the month since Tony’s discovery of HYDRA’s renewed interest in the Siberian base that held Levi, the team had been called out on three separate missions, and Levi had been grounded as a precaution for all of them. There had been no unusual activity from HYDRA, no overt indications that they were even aware that Levi had survived the base’s destruction, and the team was short today. Both Nat and Sam were injured and out of commission, spitting mad in the medical labs. Thor had been gone to Asgard for over six weeks, with no clue as to when he was going to return, and Levi had been reluctantly called up to help.  

Levi was more worried about being rusty than any threat from HYDRA, but her loyalty to the team had kept her from refusing. She would never forgive herself if anything more happened to them because she wasn’t there to help. It had been hard enough seeing both Sam and Nat injured, wondering if she could have somehow prevented it by being there with them.  

To distract herself, Levi thought back to the first few days after she and Bucky had finally given into each other.

Except for a few covert missions in the dead of night to retrieve food from the kitchen, Bucky and Levi had stayed lost in each other, christening every surface in Levi’s quarters at least once. Some times were tangled, sweaty, frantic affairs; flat-out fucking because they just couldn’t get enough of the other, needed to feel the other pressed to them more than they needed air; and others were slow, gentle, timeless lovemaking, worshipping each other’s bodies, reveling in the other’s bliss, feeding off their ecstasy before exploding together, voices joining into one cry.

Finally, after three days, it was Steve who had dared disrupt them. He came hammering on the door, demanding their attendance at supper that night, spewing everything from ‘enough is enough, we miss you!’ to ‘how the hell have you not starved to death?’, shutting up only when Bucky finally threw the door open wearing nothing more than his black boxer briefs and a wolf-smile.

The look on Steve’s face had been priceless; you hadn’t needed super senses to detect the musk of sex hanging heavy in the air and he’d fallen abruptly silent, no longer so righteously indignant.

Levi couldn’t hold back a giggle at the memory, biting her lip.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky rumbled, pressing his lips tenderly to her hair. The amount of PDA Bucky was comfortable with now was shocking, if you’d known the man before; he wasted no chances to cuddle and snuggle with Levi, pulling her back against his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her down into his lap whenever they were out and about in the common room or kitchen with the rest of the team. He wasn’t afraid to stake his claim, show everyone the depth of his feelings for Levi and, while Sam and Tony would give him a hard time, Steve would always look on, like a proud father.  

Having grown up without any form of closeness, besides Nat, Levi absorbed Bucky’s affections like dry earth with rain, blossoming under his attention and, in turn, bringing the former Winter Soldier out of his own hesitant shell. Despite their teasing, even Sam and Tony agreed that they were perfect together, two damaged souls that made the other whole again.  

“Five minutes!” Steve bellowed from the cockpit, breaking Levi out of her reverie, where she and Bucky were joining the mile-high club in the lavatory.  

Exhaling, Levi checked her assortment of knives again. Being super soldier strong, she was herself a dangerous weapon, but she always felt better with the comforting weight of blades on her. Whereas Bucky was at ease with hand-to-hand knife fights, Levi was especially gifted at knife-throwing and each one of her knives was razor-sharp and distinctly forged for that purpose.

“You’ll be fine, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Bucky’s deep voice eased Levi’s anxiety somewhat, but she knew missions could go south in an instant, and often did. “Stay at my side this time.”

Levi nodded in agreement, it would be useless to disagree, if she didn’t stay close to Bucky he’d just follow her anyway.

All too soon, the quinjet landed and Levi’s focus narrowed to a tunnel.  

Something felt off, right from the start, and, as the mission progressed, Levi was less inclined to think it was just her nerves. Something was wrong with the whole thing, something was amiss, askew. If Bucky felt the same, he gave no indication, focused on completely their objectives while keeping Levi safe at his side.

Finally, it clicked in Levi’s head, what was wrong with the situation.  

“Why do I feel like I'm in a movie?”

“What?” Bucky asked, turning back to stare at Levi questioningly.

“It looks....” Levi gestured, frustrated, with her hands, searching for the correct words and coming up short. “Staged! Like this is a -”

The explosion cut her off and the world went dark and filled with agony.

[quiveringbunny]

Week 2 - OTA-Inspired Campaign

Hey Friends of Original Team Arrow Awesomeness!

Last week, I started a campaign to try to turn OTA fans into real-life heroes by taking part in a virtual bone marrow registration drive. There are many people with cancer and blood disorders who cannot find life-saving matches every year. I am hoping that within our fan community, there are some folks who would like to help, if possible by getting on the list. Remember, it’s called a fundraiser, but no monetary donation is required. Please click here and register on this page to get started: OTA-Inspired Virtual Bone Marrow Registration Drive.

Each week I am creating OTA-Inspired content to try to keep the topic on folks’ minds and thank them for considering it. Also, I just want to celebrate this amazing trio. So, I hope like this little drabble, called LIAN YU and the edit I made from the episode that inspired it. 

(also appears here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354786)

LIAN YU  by Quiveringbunny

The flight back from Lian Yu promised to be tense. Once the seaplane Diggle had chartered to pick the team up was contacted, he, Felicity and their recently recovered leader, waited silently on the beach. Mostly silently. Occasionally, the IT expert bemoaned the sketchy satellite signal on her portable internet phone. (Seriously guys, we have direct line of sight. This shouldn’t be happening!) or commented on the vast array of deadly looking creatures washing up on the shoreline.

“That’s a starfish, Felicity,” John chuckled. “Not lethal last time I checked. Don’t you know anything about sea life?”

“No, John. But if I could get access to Google here, I swear I would look it up.”  Felicity looked up from the sand and caught Diggle’s eye, directing him to the figure of Oliver in the distance, roaming along the surf armed with a narrow length of driftwood he was using as a walking stick and potential weapon, looking for actual threats.

Felicity suddenly wondered whether they were really doing the right thing summoning Oliver, spiriting him away from this place. Were they doing it out of selfishness? Or were they saving him from his own tendency to wallow in negativity? God knew they were all capable of heading down that road.

Diggle sighed and walked slowly to join Oliver on his slow march by a stretch of seaweed that had accumulated 20 feet in from the waterline. He made a noise so his friend would know he was approaching.

“Hey, Oliver.”

“Digg.”

“The plane should be here in twenty.”

Oliver nodded.

“You know, I wanted to mention something to you yesterday when we got here, but I didn’t get a chance. I want to talk to you about it now.”

Oliver stopped walking, but rather than look Diggle in the eye, he looked out into the sea and nodded quietly.

“You mentioned your mission being a fool’s crusade, well I refuse to accept that. Because it ended up being a crusade for all of us, Oliver. We all wanted to stop Malcolm Merlyn and none of us imagined the outcome would result in Tommy and so many others losing their lives."

Oliver swallowed thickly, tamping down an emotional outburst.

“So, tell me, do you think I’m a fool for trying to stop Merlyn?”

“Of course not, Digg.”

“If you had never come back to Starling City to stop the Undertaking and I had found out about it some other way, I’d like to believe I would have stepped up to try to stop it on my own.”

Oliver took a minute to think about the gravity of his partner’s words and then sighed.

“Yeah, I guess you would.”

Diggle nodded.

“But there’s something else, Oliver. You were pretty harsh in what you characterize as failure.”

“Hundreds of people died.”

“Yes, they did. And you think you carry that burden more than anybody else, right?”

Oliver pursed his lips and breathed deeply through his nose. These were the kinds of conversations he fled Starling City to avoid.

“You said some pretty insensitive things. Well, let me tell you, nobody carried more guilt and regret over what happened that day then that woman over there.”

The vigilante’s eyes shot down to see where Felicity was standing under a palm tree trying to horde a bit of shade.

“While you and I were trying to get Merlyn,” Digg continued, “She bore the responsibility for stopping the earthquake. And when it turned out there was a second machine, something none of us imagined, she was devastated. As the tech person, she felt like it was her job to know about redundancy and she missed it.”

“We all missed it.”

“We did. But neither one of us had to experience the Undertaking in a basement, alone.”

“She was on the comms. She said it wasn’t that bad," Oliver countered, sounding a bit desperate.

“Yeah. Then Tommy died and you turned yours off. It took three hours for me to get to her, Oliver. She wouldn’t call the rescue squad because she didn’t want them to find our base.”

“I wasn’t any good to anybody after Tommy, Digg. I didn’t even stay for the funeral.”

“I know. I also know that Felicity slept on my sofa for three weeks after that. She was a wreck.”

At that point, Oliver turned and looked at Diggle, a grimace on his lips.

“You don’t have to be a soldier to have PTSD, Oliver.”

Oliver looked over at Felicity again with new eyes. She was so strong, to have gone through that and she still wanted to move forward and help Queen Consolidated, help Starling City, and him.

“Is she better now?”

“Mostly. But I gotta tell you, talking about failure doesn’t help. She’s accepted it. I’ve accepted it. We had to because we face the consequences of it every day seeing what the city has become and looking into the eyes of people who have lost everything. Their homes. Their businesses. Their families.”

Oliver couldn’t even look at John Diggle now. It was all too much.

“But the way we’ve been able to able to deal with it is through the commitment we’ve made to doing whatever we can to make a difference. And that, Oliver, is not a fool’s errand.”

Oliver nodded.

In the distance, the steady buzz of an approaching airplane could be heard.

He watched Felicity, small in the distance, but no less formidable, as she approached the shoreline and scanned the sky for their ride home. He thought about her strength.

Felicity was an IT girl who was much more. Digg was a veteran, a body guard. But they were both heroes. Together, perhaps they could do more good.

Oliver looked into the warm eyes of his friend, who was really the only man in his life who resembled a brother now that Tommy was gone.

“No, it’s not.”

THE END. 

Thanks for reading. Thanks for sharing and getting the word out about becoming a potential bone marrow donor. 

[jolie-in-the-underground]

Fallout (Q and Grim fic)

I actually wrote this last night in response to that completely tragic mini fic my sister posted over on @skeletonsgrim about Grim’s suicide attempt. Then I just REALLY got the urge to watch Ironman, though, so that’s why you’re only just now getting this 8′D i’m terrible i’m sorry

So uuuuuh enjoy the feels and Q’s reaction? *sweats*

Q reached the end of the internet and lingered at its ever expanding horizon of new content, scanning it all with every bit of processing power he could spare that wasn’t already committed to maintaining his world and other vital operations.

It was, to say the least, a startling amount of tech being bent to a single purpose. Q had long since grown out of the lodge basement, and all these years later now owned entire server farms around the world, one of which he maintained in the basement of his home. His basement that was bigger than most people’s entire house.

“Sans, what on earth are you doing down here?” called a familiar voice as the sound of footsteps on the stairs tripped Q’s sensors and pulled him back into the robotic body in which he spent so much time these days. “It feels like we have heated floors upstairs!”

“sorry, peaches, looking for something,” he responded distractedly, his attention still primarily on the ongoing search.

“Looking for what?” Q’s one-time landlady asked with an incredulous laugh. “The lost treasure of the Sierra Madre?” She grimaced and waved her hand in front of her face as she entered. “Lord, it sure feels like the Sierra in here! Do you have the cooling units going? The whole place is going to go up like a match at this rate!”

A soft huff of laughter escaped Q in spite of himself. “if i didn’t have the units going, only flames would live here now. as for what i’m looking for…” he paused and grimaced, once again hit with the inconvenience that came with having a best friend no one else could see. This was far from the first time he’d had to maneuver around the subject of Grim when talking to someone else. “well, it’s something very important, and we’ll leave it at that.”

The answer earned him a lift of a feminine brow as the woman stepped closer, “That’s… vague.”

“peaches, trust me, if i could explain, i would,” he mused tiredly. The search for Grim was starting to drag at him, but he kept at it. Being what he was, Q’s void plagued doppelganger didn’t carry a phone that could make use of satellites or cell towers, leaving it completely reliant on wifi for any sort of communication. It made getting in touch with him a challenge, to say the least. That, and his habit of teleporting overseas on a whim to fight eldritch horrors from beyond the veil of reality were why Q had finally insisted that Grim start wearing a tracker, just in case. The other monster had eventually agreed, though it had taken a great deal of pestering on the AI’s part.

Q was very persistent when it came to getting what he wanted, though. Grim hadn’t really stood a chance.

Now, though, the tracker wasn’t working, and the only time that ever happened was when Grim took one of his brief, painful trips into the void to see his family. There was always the chance the tracker had been broken, of course, but after what had happened with that piece of shit anonymous message someone had left on his friend’s blog… Q would have bet everything he owned on Grim taking it to heart and…

The AI shifted uncomfortably in place as the servers around him kicked into high gear, sending the temperature shooting up another few degrees. Q had found that the only way he could even begin to keep track of Grim’s movements when he wasn’t wearing a tracker was, oddly enough, via posts on conspiracy blogs, ghost hunter forums, UFO sites… it was ridiculous, really. Still, humans’ inability to see Grim while still being able to see the things he moved or the lives he saved often wound up on these sites, attributed to other phenomena entirely. They’d both had a good laugh together about the skeleton’s official cryptid status, and Q had put together an algorithm that would seek out such mentions that might be attributed to his friend. He’d done it as a joke so he could send the results to Grim whenever a new one popped up, but now…

Now it was his only hope to track where his friend might have disappeared to if his tracker wasn’t working.

A large part of him insisted that it was a foolish endeavor, all data pointed towards one result and logic insisted that Grim had made a trip to the void, not had his tracker damaged. The rest of Q, though, held on tight and insisted that maybe he had. It was better than the alternative.

When the tracker had initially gone offline, the AI had quirked a brow, but not descended into outright panic. After all, he wasn’t Grim’s keeper, if he wanted to pop off into the void for a few minutes, it wasn’t any of his business…even if his friend was generally pretty good at keeping him up to date when he was planning anything like that. But then they’d passed the five minute mark and Q had begun to worry. Then six dragged into seven, into eight… now they were ticking steadily past nine and a half and the monster was frantic.

“This is big, isn’t it?”

Q’s eyes darted to the woman beside him and saw her gazing up at him, brow furrowed with concern for whatever was bothering him. The way her lover’s expression contorted in response only deepened her frown and made her reach out to him on reflex.

“Ouch!” she yelped and snatched her fingers back the moment they came into touch with his overheated exterior.

Before he could even apologize, the tracker alert dinged quietly and Q’s eyes went wide.

Grim was back. He’d cut it down to the second, but he was back.

“i gotta go,” Q said and darted towards the back of the long room where there was a ladder bolted to the wall leading up to a hatch in the ceiling. Around him, the servers continued to hum for a minute, then gradually began to back down and enter their cooling cycle.

“What?” came the startled reaction from behind him. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“i think so,” Q called back as he mounted the first rung and started up hand-over-hand. “i’ll be back in a bit, peaches, don’t wait up.”

“Where are you going?” the woman asked with a blink as she trailed after him down the stacks, long since inured to the AI’s eccentric comings and goings.

“uh-” Q paused and actually looked at the tracker map now, then rolled his eyes hugely and let his head sag forward to hit one of the ladder rungs with a dull clank. “alaska, apparently.” The woman behind him made a startled, almost affronted noise until he twisted where he hung on the ladder and bent to land a kiss on her upturned cheek. “i’ll be back in a few hours, promise.”

She rolled her own eyes now, but turned so her lips caught his now that he wasn’t so overheated as to burn her. “Fine,” she said when they broke contact. “Bring me back some smoked salmon or don’t come home at all, though.”

He laughed and started to climb again. “yes ma’am.”

“The candied kind!” she clarified from the bottom of the ladder as he pushed his way up through the hatch.

“who do you think you’re talking to right now?”

“My husband, the guy that’s abandoning me on date night to make a trip to Alaska to find the lost treasure of Sierra Madre!”

Q had disappeared up through the hatch, but at her shout poked his head back over the opening and grimaced apologetically. “i’m sorry peaches, it-”

Her expression softened when she saw the discomfort in his gaze and she waved him off with a smile, “I know,” she said. “Just hurry up and go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

His wife blew him a kiss and the AI pantomimed catching it, then shot her a wink and said, “see you in your dreams, peaches,” then closed the hatch and stepped up onto the patch of cement he’d had laid in their expansive back yard.

Once at its center, he paused and kicked off his shoes, then rolled his pants up to his knees before stripping off his hoodie and the t-shirt he’d been wearing under it. The shirt he tossed aside, and the hoodie he tied off around his waist before activating his flight array. Panels on his body lifted and shifted as the specially designed engines flared to life and launched him effortlessly into the air.

Yeah, alright, so he might have borrowed the idea from Ironman. So what? It was a good design and he felt cool as hell as he soared up and over the city, then breached the cloud layer to find himself over a sea of gently shifting white illuminated by the rising moon. The monster took a moment to orient himself to the tracker location, then shot off towards the northwest at speeds that would make jet blush.

It didn’t take him long to get where he was going, and the fact that the tracker had moved a bit since coming back online gave the AI some relief on his trip north to find his friend. Unfortunately, that still left him with plenty of time to get worked up.

He was coming in far too hot and fast, Q knew, but when he spotted his friend cresting a hilltop at the base of a mountain, all caution went out the window.

The monster dropped out of the sky like a stone, and only a last second burst from his boosters kept him from hitting hard enough to leave a crater. The close call was, however, enough to char the earth for several feet around, and Q left it to smolder as he marched towards Grim with an expression like a thunderstorm.

His best friend had the good grace to look ashamed of himself, and dropped his gaze from Q’s as he approached. It wasn’t enough to allay the AI’s wrath, however, as he shouted, “nine minutes and fifty-five goddamn seconds, grim!” and jabbed at the air between them with a finger.

“yeah,” was the solemn response as the other monster still refused to meet his eyes.

Q stared him down for a long minute, but when Grim offered no defense he made a sound of irritation and stormed off some distance and paced for a moment before marching right back to demand, “you were really ready to pack it in, weren’t you? This little trip was your last hurrah so you could die on your brother’s fucking doorstep wasn’t it?!”

Pinned under the weight of his friend’s gaze, Grim shifted uncomfortably, but finally managed to say, “i… not on their doorstep. not intentionally.”

He’d known as soon as he got back that he was in for a lecture, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Q’s ability to cut to the quick of a subject when it suited him had always been able to wrong-foot Grim considering his friend’s usual proclivity for half-truths and teasing, and that was still the case now. The bluntness of it shone a light on the harsh reality of the almost permanent solution the skeleton had sought for his temporary problem, and the disappointment in his voice stung like a lash.

Q pointed wordlessly at Grim, struggling to find the words he wanted, but failing, so his hand tightened into a fist and he turned his back on his friend and walked away again to give himself some space. Mechanical body struggling to keep up with the onslaught of emotions the AI was suffering, Q’s hands began to tremble and he shook them out angrily, then put them to use dragging his hoodie off his waist and pulling it on. He zipped it up and adjusted it with short, sharp movements as he collected himself.

“i’m sorry,” Grim finally managed to say quietly as he approached to stand at Q’s side, eyes on the sprawling view of the forest and distant, glittering city that was laid out before them.

The AI looked at him sharply, eyes narrowed. “that so?” he asked bitterly. “what would ‘sorry’ have done for me or your brothers if you hadn’t come back?’”

Grim’s shoulders slumped further, making him look as though he were ready to fold in on himself. “nothing, i know. I’m just… i’m sorry, q. It was a moment of weakness, and i-”

Q’s eyes flashed and he turned to jab his friend in the shoulder as he hissed, “you don’t get to say sorry yet, you jackass!” Grim flinched, but took it and nodded, though his submission only made his friend angrier. “you don’t get to just lay down and give the fuck up, grim! you don’t get to go out like some goddamn tragic poet on your brothers’ front door step and traumatize them for the rest of their lives watching you die and turn into some horrible fucking monster!”

As though the first jab had opened him up for more, the next turned into a hard shove that sent Grim stumbling back several steps, though he quickly caught his footing and stood his ground when Q advanced on him, fury clear in every line of his body and gesture of his hands.

“and you know what?” the AI continued as he reached out a third time and grabbed Grim by the sweater so he could pull him in and give him hard shake. “my best goddamn friend does not get to leave me behind without so much as a word!” Q’s expression, full of righteous anger a moment before, shifted into one of anguish as he shook Grim again and said, “not even… you couldn’t even do me the kindness of a note, grim.”

Grim met Q’s gaze and he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came as he stared up at the other monster, helpless in the face of his hurt.

An incoherent sound of pain escaped the AI and he shoved Grim away from him bodily before turning his back on him again, hands fisted tight in the pockets of his hoodie. “you don’t…” he began, struggling to speak before finding the words and shouting them, “you don’t get to just leave us behind!”

“q-” Grim tried again and reached out to his friend, hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, only for him to pull sharply away.

“no! you still- you get to listen, goddammit!” the AI said fiercely as he turned to glare at his friend. “your brothers aren’t here to lecture you, so that leaves me, and you’re gonna fucking listen!” Grim’s eye sockets widened fractionally, and Q took advantage of his silence to speak. “you fucked up in the past, grim. you fucked up bad, and that guilt is something you’re gonna carry with you for the rest of your damn days.” The other monster flinched visibly, but Q pressed on relentlessly. “but that guilt does not entitle you to an early check out, you asshole. not only does it literally help nothing and no one, but…” he faltered, expression becoming pained once more, and this time when he reached out to Grim, it was with a hand that was not only slow and unsteady, but in search of reassurance that his friend was, in fact, really there with him. It landed on the other monster’s shoulder, the fabric of his impossibly black sweater painfully familiar beneath his fingers.

“i’m sorry,” Grim said for the third time, and this time, Q seemed willing to hear him out. “you’re right. me screwing up and feeling bad over it doesn’t entitle me to ending things the easy way. people rely on me and i almost let them… let you down. i’m sorry.”

Q tried to smile, but the result was a confused grimace torn between humor and a soul deep need to cry that his mechanical body could not fulfill. Hand still on his friend’s shoulder, the AI gave Grim a gentle shake as, in an unsteady voice, he said, “you know, for a supposed genius, you’re like… the biggest idiot i’ve ever met, bro.”

The words startled a laugh out of Grim, and unlike his friend, he did begin to cry. “yeah,” he agreed with a trembling smile and an unsteady breath as tears began to spill down his cheeks once more, leaving inky trails across his stark white features. “well, takes one to know one.”

“shut up,” Q groused with a weak laugh that trailed off quickly as he met Grim’s gaze and his expression went solemn. “it’s not… i’m a selfish asshole, grim, i don’t give a shit if you stay because you want to take responsibility for how you messed up in your timeline, or if you wanna stick around because i’m your friend and you like all my sick science toys i let you play with,” they both laughed unsteadily at this before he continued, “i don’t care as long as you stick around. i just…” the monster took a completely unnecessary breath and released it in one long, shuddering rush. “-don’t know what i’d do without you, man,” he admitted weakly as he gave his friend another gentle shake.

“turn into a super villain, probably,” Grim said as he lifted a hand to his face and tried to mask the fresh rush of tears there by pretending to wipe away the ones that still lingered from earlier.

“heh, the wife would never let me,” Q mused and dragged Grim in for a hug. “well,” he amended as he settled his arms around the other monster’s shoulders, “maybe on weekends. she’s kinky like that.”

The shorter skeleton grunted as he was dragged in against his friend’s broad, hard chest, but didn’t complain. Synthetic Q’s body might be, but contact was still contact, and the physical sign of affection was a balm to Grim’s tired, aching soul. He let his forehead drop onto his friend’s shoulder and took a breath of his own. “i have no idea how she puts up with you,” he grumbled with a soft snort.

“me neither,” Q admitted with a chuckle. “probably has something to do with-”

“if you make a dick joke right now, i’m out,” Grim cut in sharply and Q barked a laugh. They stood there like that for a minute, Q’s arms around Grim’s shoulders in a tight embrace that his friend leaned heavily into as he returned it in kind. They were both shaken by the near miss they’d had that day, and after all the tears and shouting, it was only then that the immensity of it all really hit them. Q’s grip on his friend tightened at the thought of what he’d almost lost, and Grim had to fight back a sob at the pain he had inadvertently caused to the people closest to him in pursuit of freedom from his own.

Eventually, Q said, “you’re not alone, grim. we’re here for you, not because we have to be, but because we want to be. just… try not to forget that again.” Grim couldn’t respond, but he nodded against Q’s shoulder, and the other monster sighed. “you’re smearing that emo-ass mascara of yours all over my damn sweater again, aren’t you?” he asked, referring to his friend’s ink-black tears. Grim nodded again, but Q just patted him on the back and gave him a pass on it this time.

When the shorter skeleton finally pushed gently away from his friend, he grimaced and said, “you reek of ozone, man, what the hell?”

“was doin’ mach one out over the ocean,” Q remarked after a moment, “probably from that.” He slung his arm around Grims shoulders and they both started walking together down the hill towards town.

“what? thought you were doing mach three for sure judging by that entrance you made, ironman,” grim drawled.

“nah, didn’t want to lose my pants again,” Q said with a shit-eating grin, and Grim laughed long and loud at the mental image.

((Try not to be too hard on on Q for shouting, guys, Grim is like a brother to him and the fact that he almost lost him so unexpectedly scared the shit out of him. Hope you guys enjoyed! Wrote and post this with my sister, @nighttimepixels permission, of course, and Grim belongs to her! Q, obviously, is mine, heh.))

[newsjerk]

How Google Book Search Got Lost

Google Books was the company’s first moonshot. But 15 years later, the project is stuck in low-Earth orbit.

Books can do anything. As Franz Kafka once said, “A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.”

It was Kafka, wasn’t it? Google confirms this. But where did he say it? Google offers links to some quotation websites, but they’re generally unreliable. (They misattribute everything, usually to Mark Twain.)

To answer such questions, you need Google Book Search, the tool that magically scours the texts of millions of digitized volumes. Just find the little “more” tab at the top of the Google results page — it’s right past Images, Videos, and News. Then click on it, find “Books,” and click on that. (That’s if you’re at your desk. On mobile, good luck locating it anywhere.)Google Book Search is amazing that way. When it started almost 15 years ago, it also seemed impossibly ambitious: An upstart tech company that had just tamed and organized the vast informational jungle of the web would now extend the reach of its search box into the offline world. By scanning millions of printed books from the libraries with which it partnered, it would import the entire body of pre-internet writing into its database.“You have thousands of years of human knowledge, and probably the highest-quality knowledge is captured in books,” Google cofounder Sergey Brin told The New Yorker at the time. “So not having that — it’s just too big an omission.”Today, Google is known for its moonshot culture, its willingness to take on gigantic challenges at global scale. Books was, by general agreement of veteran Googlers, the company’s first lunar mission. Scan All The Books!In its youth, Google Books inspired the world with a vision of a “library of utopia” that would extend online convenience to offline wisdom. At the time it seemed like a singularity for the written word: We’d upload all those pages into the ether, and they would somehow produce a phase-shift in human awareness. Instead, Google Books has settled into a quiet middle age of sourcing quotes and serving up snippets of text from the 25 million-plus tomes in its database.Google employees maintain that’s all they ever intended to achieve. Maybe so. But they sure got everyone else’s hopes up.Two things happened to Google Books on the way from moonshot vision to mundane reality. Soon after launch, it quickly fell from the idealistic ether into a legal bog, as authors fought Google’s right to index copyrighted works and publishers maneuvered to protect their industry from being Napsterized. A decade-long legal battle followed — one that finally ended last year, when the US Supreme Court turned down an appeal by the Authors Guild and definitively lifted the legal cloud that had so long hovered over Google’s book-related ambitions.But in that time, another change had come over Google Books, one that’s not all that unusual for institutions and people who get caught up in decade-long legal battles: It lost its drive and ambition.When I started work on this story, I feared at first that Books no longer existed as a discrete part of the Google organization — that Google had actually shut the project down. As with many aspects of Google, there’s always been some secrecy around Google Books, but this time, when I started asking questions, it closed up like a startled turtle. For weeks there didn’t seem to be anyone around or available who could or would speak to the current state of the Books effort.The Google Books “History” page trails off in 2007, and its blog stopped updating in 2012, after which it got folded into the main Google Search blog, where information about Books is nearly impossible to find. As a functioning and useful service, Google Books remained a going concern. But as a living project, with plans and announcements and institutional visibility, it seemed to have pulled a vanishing act. All of which felt weird, given the legal victory it had finally won.When I talked to alumni of the project who’d left Google, several mentioned that they suspected the company had stopped scanning books. Eventually, I learned that there are, indeed, still some Googlers working on Book Search, and they’re still adding new books, though at a significantly slower pacethan at the project’s peak around 2010–11.“We’re not focused on shiny features and things that are very visible to users,” says Stephane Jaskiewicz, a Google engineer who has worked on Books for a decade and now leads its team. “It’s more like behind the scenes work and perfecting the technology — acquiring content, processing it properly so that we can view the entire book online, and adjusting the search algorithm.”One focus of work has been a constant throughout Google Books’ life: improving the scanners that add new books to the “corpus,” as the database is known. At the birth of the project, in 2002, as Larry Page and Marissa Mayer set out to gauge how long it might take to Scan All The Books, they set up a digital camera on a stand and timed themselves with a metronome. Once the company got serious about ramping its scanning up to efficient scale, it started jealously guarding details of the operation.Jaskiewicz does say that the scanning stations keep evolving, with new revisions rolling out every six months. LED lighting, not widely available at the project’s start, has helped. So has studying more efficient techniques for human operators to flip pages. “It’s almost like finger-picking on a guitar,” Jaskiewicz says. “So we find people who have great ways of turning pages — where is the thumb and that kind of stuff.”Still, the bulk of the work at Google Books continues to be on “search quality” — making sure that you find the Kafka passage you need, fast. It’s an unglamorous game of inches — less moonshot and more, say, satellite maintenance.

To understand how Google Books arrived at this point, you need to know a few things about copyright law, which essentially divides books into three classes. Some books are in the public domain, which means you can do what you want with their texts — mostly, those published before 1923, as well as more recent books whose authors chose to release them from standard copyright. Plenty of more recent books are still in print and under copyright; if you want to do anything with these texts, you have to come to terms with their authors and publishers.

Then there’s the third category: books that are out of print but still under copyright, known informally as “orphan works.” It turns out there are a whole lot of these — “between 17 percent and 25 percent of published works and as much as 70 percent of specialized collections,” a study by the US Copyright Office suggests.

How many books is that? No one knows for sure because no one can say with any certainty exactly how many total books there are. The statistic depends on how you define “book,” which isn’t as easy as it sounds. In 2010 a Google engineer named Leonid Taycher wrote a blog post that examined Google Books’ metadata and concluded that the number (then) was about 130 million. Others looked at this work and called it “bunk.” The actual number is probably somewhat lower than Taycher’s figure yet considerably higher than Google Books’ current 25 million-plus.

Some large chunk of that large number, then, are “orphan works.” And until recently, they weren’t much of an issue. You could borrow them from a library or find them in a used bookstore, and that was that. But once Google Books proposed to scan them all and make them available to the internet, everyone seemed to want a piece of them.

The legal battle that ensued was, essentially, a custody fight over these orphans, in which Google, publishers, and authors each sought to control the process of ushering them into a new home for the digital age. The three parties eventually agreed on a grand compromise known as the Google Books Settlement, under which Google would go ahead and make the orphan works available in their entirety and set aside money to compensate rights holders who stepped forward. But in 2011, a federal judge rejected the settlement, ruling in favor of advocates who feared it would forever ensconce a private for-profit company as the registrar and toll collector of the universe’s library.

Once the settlement collapsed, Google went back to its scanning, and publishers pursued the burgeoning business of selling e-books, which had leapfrogged Google’s lead in the future-of-books race due to the success of Amazon’s Kindle. But the Authors Guild continued to press its lawsuit, charging that Google’s arrogation of the right to scan and index books without the permission of copyright holders was illegal. Google is wealthy, but not so wealthy that it could ignore the threat of multi-billion dollar copyright infringement penalties (thousands of dollars per book for millions of books). This was the proceeding that dragged on until the Supreme Court put it out of its misery last year — establishing once and for all that Google had a fair-use right to catalogue books and provide brief excerpts (“snippets”) in search results, just as it did with web pages.

That ruling represents a foundational achievement for the future of online research—Google’s and everyone else’s. “It’s now established precedent — everyone benefits,” says Erin Simon, Google Books’ product counsel today. “This is going to be in textbooks. It’s supremely important for understanding what fair use means.” (Simon also notes with a chuckle that when the suit was originally filed, she hadn’t yet started law school.)

The Authors Guild may have lost in court, but it believes the fight was worth it. Google “did it wrong from the beginning,” says James Gleick, president of the Guild’s board. “They plowed ahead without involving the creative community on whose backs they were building this new thing. The big companies have a droit du seigneur attitude toward creative work. They think, ‘We are the masters of the universe now.’ They should have just licensed the books instead.”

You’d think a Supreme Court victory would have meant a renewal of energy for Google Books: Rev up the scanners — full speed ahead! By all the evidence, that has not been the case. Partly that’s because the database is so huge already. “We have a fixed budget that we’re spending,” says Jaskiewicz. “At the beginning, we were scanning everything on every shelf. At some point we started getting a lot of duplicates.” Today Google gives its partner libraries “pick lists” instead.

There are plenty of other explanations for the dampening of Google’s ardor: The bad taste left from the lawsuits. The rise of shiny and exciting new ventures with more immediate payoffs. And also: the dawning realization that Scanning All The Books, however useful, might not change the world in any fundamental way.

To many bibliophiles, Google’s self-appointment as universal librarian never made sense: That role properly belonged to some public institution. Once Google popularized the notion that Scanning All The Books was a feasible undertaking, others lined up to tackle it. Brewster Kahle’s Internet Archive, which stores historical snapshots of the whole web, already had its own scanning operation. The Digital Public Library of America grew out of meetings at Harvard’s Berkman Center beginning in 2010 and now serves as a clearinghouse and consortium for the digital collections of many libraries and institutions.

When Google partnered with university libraries to scan their collections, it had agreed to give them each a copy of the scanning data, and in 2011 the HathiTrust began organizing and sharing those files. (It had to fend off the Authors Guild in court, too.) HathiTrust has 125 member organizations and institutions who “believe that we can better steward research and cultural heritage by working together than alone or by leaving it to an organization like Google,” says Mike Furlough, the trust’s director. And of course there’s the Library of Congress itself, whose new leader, Carla Hayden, has committed to opening up public access to its collections through digitization.

In a sense each of these outfits is a competitor to Google Books. But in reality, Google is so far ahead that none of them is likely to catch up. The consensus among observers is that it cost Google several hundred million dollars to build Google Books, and nobody else is going to spend that kind of money to perform the feat a second time.

Still, the nonprofits have a strength Google lacks: They’re not subject to the changing priorities of a gigantic technology corporation. They have a focused commitment around books, unencumbered by distractions like running one of the largest advertising businesses in the world or managing a smartphone ecosystem. Unlike Google, they’re not going to lose interest in seeking new ways to connect readers with books that might, a la Kafka, melt a frozen mind.

In popular mythology, interminable lawsuits turn into hungry maelstroms that drown the participants. (The archetype is Dickens’ Jarndyce v. Jarndyce from Bleak House, the generations-spanning estate fight whose legal fees eat up all the assets at stake.) In the tech business, court battles like the celebrated antitrust suit that plagued IBM for years tend to pinion giant corporations and provide new competitors with an opening to lap an incumbent. Google itself rose to dominate search while Microsoft was busy defending itself from the Justice Department.

Yet the Books fight was never as central to Google’s corporate being as that kind of all-consuming conflict. And it wasn’t all a waste, either. It taught Google something valuable.

As the Authors Guild’s Gleick points out, Google started Books with a “better ask forgiveness than permission” attitude that’s common today in the world of startups. In a sense, the company behaved like the Uber of intellectual property — a kind of read-sharing service — while expecting to be seen the way it saw itself, as a beneficent pantheon of wizards serving the entire human species. It was naive, and the stubborn opposition it aroused came as a shock.

But Google took away a lesson that helped it immeasurably as it grew and gained power: Engineering is great, but it’s not the answer to all problems. Sometimes you have to play politics, too — consult stakeholders, line up allies, compromise with rivals. As a result, Google assembled a crew of lobbyists and lawyers and approached other similar challenges — like navigating YouTube’s rights maze — with greater care and better results. It grew up. It came to understand that it could shoot for the moon, but it wouldn’t always get there.

It’s possible that Google might someday take another run at solving the orphan works problem. But it looks like it’s going to wait for others to take the lead. “I don’t know that there’s anything that we could do without a different legal framework,” says Jaskiewicz.

As I worked on this piece, I kept thinking back to a book I’d read a few years ago called Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, a whimsical, nerdy novel by Robin Sloan. It’s about a secret society dedicated to solving a centuries-old Name of the Rose-style mystery that’s rooted in bookmaking and typography. Google plays a critical supporting role in Penumbra, as the protagonist attempts to unravel the riddle at the story’s heart. As it turns out, even the company’s unrivaled informational prowess isn’t enough to do the trick. That takes a chance encounter between the protagonist and a particular book that provides an illuminating insight. It takes, in the phrase with which Sloan closes his tale, “exactly the right book, at exactly the right time.”

Penumbra reminds us that Google’s engineering mindset isn’t omnipotent. Breaking a challenge into approachable pieces, turning it into data, and applying efficient routines is a powerful way to work. It can carry you a good distance toward a “library of utopia,” but it won’t get you there.

And even if you get there, it isn’t utopia, anyway. The hard labor is still ahead. That’s because when you turn a book into data, you make it easy to find quotes and search snippets, but you don’t make it fundamentally easier to do the work of reading the book — that irreplaceable experience of allowing one’s own mind to be temporarily inhabited by the voice of another person.

To date, the full experience of reading a book requires human beings at both ends. An index like Google Books helps us find and analyze texts but, so far, making use of them is still our job. Maybe the quest to digitize all books was bound to end in disappointment, with no grand epiphany.

Like many tech-friendly bibliophiles, Sloan says he uses Google Books a lot, but is sad that it isn’t continuing to evolve and amaze us. “I wish it was a big glittering beautiful useful thing that was growing and getting more interesting all the time,” he says. He also wonders: We know Google can’t legally make its millions of books available for anyone to read in full — but what if it made them available for machines to read?

Machine-learning tools that analyze texts in new ways are advancing quickly today, Sloan notes, and “the culture around it has a real Homebrew Computer Club or early web feel to it right now.” But to progress, researchers need big troves of data to feed their programs.

“If Google could find a way to take that corpus, sliced and diced by genre, topic, time period, all the ways you can divide it, and make that available to machine-learning researchers and hobbyists at universities and out in the wild, I’ll bet there’s some really interesting work that could come out of that. Nobody knows what,” Sloan says. He assumes Google is already doing this internally. Jaskiewicz and others at Google would not say.

Maybe, when some neural network of the future achieves self-awareness and find itself paralyzed by Kafka-esque existential doubts, it will find solace, as so many of us do, in finding exactly the right book to shatter its psychic ice. Or maybe, unlike us, it will be able to read all the books we’ve scanned — really read them, in a way that makes sense of them. What would it do then?