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scribblingfangirl · 4 years ago

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GLOWING IN THE DARK #2 | The Punisher - Billy Russo

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Author’s Note: First of all: I am so sorry this part took so long (and it is very underwhelming as it’s just a few scenes of Y/N’s life on the base (all involving Billy - and I’m not sure if I got his character right in this one)). I tried to make it one longer coherent chapter, but I needed these scenes to be able to proceed to the more important parts of the story. Hope you guys don’t mind. I hope the next few installments will appear faster and will get better again. But for now, thank you for reading and enjoy!

word count: ~ 2.7k

summary: Becoming Billy’s friend is weird - if whatever relationship you have is even considered a friendship.

warnings: //

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You felt it – whatever or whoever it was – before you even heard or saw anything.

As a Marine, you had undergone different kinds of training modules and boot camps and this wasn’t your first tour either. Your job before getting promoted to helicopter gunner had been to try and get in and out of places without raising any suspicion or getting in the way of the others that were fighting while you got the intel. Inevitably, however, sooner or later you had to fight your way out of wherever the hell you were as well.

It had heightened your senses, which made it almost impossible for you to have a good night's rest. The smallest change in the atmosphere or the slightest sound sent you straight to overdrive. No heavy eyelids, no blurry mind - just wide-awake and alert.

Of course, this wasn't the case with everyone though. After missions with the Blackbird crew, you’d seen Garth and Dane fall asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows and nothing could wake them up after that. You even had some conversations with Frank about it whenever you stayed over at the Castles during your military leave.

You’d call the day you were able to fall asleep within the first ten minutes of getting into bed and stay asleep for the whole night a miracle. That is why your eyes opened wide and your body went rigid as you blinked desperately and tried to adapt your vision to the darkness. Or at least find the smallest shimmer of light. Obviously, you had no such luck. After all, it was somewhere around the early hours of the morning and it was pitch-black in the tent.

Your hand automatically went for the gun under your pillow, only to end up empty, and it took you a millisecond to realize that you weren’t in your cot in the tent you shared with Garth and Dane, but rather in the infirmary where weapons weren’t allowed.

You decided to do the next best thing. You used your body.

In a swift movement and without much hesitation you grabbed the thing - a person as you came to realize in that very moment - in front of you and used the momentum to turn both of you around, pinning him (as you still were the only woman on the base) down on the bed, straddling his waist and pressing your upper arm on what you expected to be his throat.

A soft chuckle resounded through the tent. In the next second, you were blinking against the white lights that illuminated the infirmary, realising that you were holding Billy in a tight grip. And worse, straddling him.

As your senses were still on a high (heart beating fast and body frozen) you were unable to do anything else other than stare shocked at Billy.

“Gotta admit Frankie boy, you trained her well,” Billy smirked up at you, his hands going to your waist to support you a little bit and take the weight of your injured foot.

“Na,” Frank shook his head, “All that was already there. I just showed her how to properly use and manage her strengths. Reminded her of who she once was.” Frank approached you both from his place beside the entrance and gently pulled you away from Billy, who started to massage his neck as he slowly stood up.

Billy chuckled at that. “A clumsy girl?”

“Hey! Watch it or I beat your ass-”

“Again… was that what you wanted to say? Do I have to remind you that you didn't beat my ass last time? That's why I told you that there are less violent ways for you to see my backside.”

You had soon realized that flirting truly was Billy’s defence mechanism, just as Frank had said. And humour. Whenever something turned uncomfortable for him he either turned on his charms or tried to alleviate the situation by making some stupid remark.

You had also realized that Billy had been right. You were terribly out of shape. Everything had hurt the day after the game, but you had guessed it might also have had something to do with the fact that two grown-up men literally tackled you to the ground the day before.

So you had gone to Frank, because, obviously, you couldn’t give Billy the satisfaction (or more time with you) and had asked him to give you some training lessons. A little refresher of your earlier days.

“Okay… What would you do if I did this to you?” Frank asked while cornering you against a wall and trapping you between it and his body, putting his hands on either side of your head.

“Really Frank. Are we really going to look at Self-Defense 101? I’m weak right now, not stupid. I remember the training.”

“Well, show me then.”

Sighing you looked him straight in the eyes as you punched your straight fingers into his ribcage under his left armpit, causing him to withdraw his left arm entirely. Then you punched your fist into his left rib cage that was now open to you, pushing him slightly away from you before punching his chin and knocking your head against his.

Tumbling a few steps back Frank caught himself quickly and grabbed you, hugging you from behind as you had already turned around to move away. “Not so quickly.”

“Do you really want me to give you a concussion?” you groaned, leaning closer into him and knocked your head back into his.

With a grunt, and while trying to regain his footing after stabilizing you due to the additional weight you put into his arms, Frank loosened his arms around you and you went for his right knee.

Ducking down fast and sliding your hands down his leg to his foot you pulled it up before Frank could regain his balance, throwing him to the ground behind you. You quickly turned around and sat triumphantly on his stomach.

“Satisfied?”

“It’s a beginning.”

“That’s enough Bill.” Frank's deep voice brought you back to the present. “She might be a little clumsy sometimes, but it’s clear that you can’t say anything against her senses.”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Kid, let’s be honest. I saw you tripping over nothing but thin air yesterday, somehow managing to injure your foot while doing that. And then you proceeded to fall face-first to the ground.” Frank said as he moved you to another unoccupied bed. Thank god you were the only one in the infirmary right now. Scoffing you rolled your eyes.

“The ground wanted a hug! Not my problem you’re a heartless guy. Ever thought about the fact that it might not want to just be trampled on? And anyway,” you added after a short pause, “you heard them yesterday after you insisted on bringing me here. I’m fine! Just a misstep, nothing a good night's rest with limited movement wouldn’t fix… which well, is kind of the opposite of what you two just did.”

“Ah well, sorry ‘bout that. Colonel Schoonover wants to go over some strategic movements first thing in the morning. Thought you might want to get caught up with the most important details first.”

“Oh. I see. And both of you were needed to bring me a, and I quote, ‘clumsy girl’ up to date?”

“Oh no. I’m sure Billy, who very enthusiastically volunteered, will do that just fine. I just followed to make sure you don't kill each other. You are welcome by the way.”

After that, you weren’t sure if you were actually becoming friends with Billy (because you didn’t actually need to ‘up your friend game’) or just accustomed to him because he was always there whenever you were doing something with Frank.

Granted, there were times when it was just you and Billy (and multiple other Marines). Like that one time when you were waiting for the showers to turn purple (a term the base had coined to show that it was your time to use the facilities without having to check your surroundings for possible men to appear and take a shower with you.... they had realized how bad it had sounded the moment they had said it to you.)

You had been waiting in front of the facility as there was still around 10 minutes before they would turn purple and Billy had decided to keep you company by starting to annoy you (you couldn't believe how incredibly childish he could be - he gave you wet willies!)

Nevertheless, you had grown close enough to him to tell him about your time as a foot soldier and how you had a knack for repairing stuff, especially cars and aeroplanes thanks to your father. That he had been a military mechanic and that, after your mother had died when you were a baby, he had taken you with him whenever he had to move or do something for the military. That you had practically grown up on military bases and that joining wasn’t even a question, it was the only valid option in your life. And that one day the Marines had asked you to join their new helicopter crew and you couldn't say no, as you had wanted to feel closer to your father who had died a few years prior.

You had also talked about how you never met in New York (or about how Frank skillfully managed to keep you both apart) and about the fact that you guys have the same call sign (well, he and your helicopter).

That was apparently enough for Frank to give you the “I know I said, I know Maria said, but do not fall in love with him”-speech one night while you were sitting on Billy’s bed, enjoying some alone time with Frank after some hectic weeks of training and strategy meetings.

“Don’t worry,” you had said and patted his back, “you know that my heart belongs to the sky. And, well, to Pete.”

Little did you know that Billy had just entered the tent when you said that.

"- hell Y/L/N!”

“It was my pleasure. But you know, maybe next time you could just thank me, one might think you don’t have any manners.”

“You could have died out there!"

"It was a test run Garth. If anything, we would have died together. Also, here I was thinking taking risks is your life motto. I mean, isn’t your name practically Gar-'With some good food I can conquer everything?'-field?"

"With good food, you can conquer everything… and everyone," he winked at you, “because even though the saying goes 'The way to a man's heart goes through his stomach' this applies to women and everybody else as well!"

You laughed and clapped his back as you pushed aside the plastic tarpaulin and let him pass you before leaving the tent as well.

"Sounds like you gotta invite me for dinner sometime, as soon as we're stateside again!"

"Sounds like it!"

Remembering that you had to get something from your cot you turned around to get it, but stopped in your movement when you caught a glimpse of Billy, his fist tightly shut and his eyes glaring after Garth. Realizing that you were watching him, he turned around and stomped over to his own tent.

This repeated itself on multiple occasions. You talking to a fellow Marine or crew member and Billy seeing it and getting angry. Sometimes you realized it, sometimes you didn’t. Like the time in front of the dining tent.

One of the Marines, you didn’t even know his name, had waved you over to give you a piece of mail that had found its way to him instead of you (apparently your names were similar enough to confuse the guy who had distributed them), apologizing for opening it already.

You had just shaken your head, saying it wasn’t his fault and had turned the envelope around, causing a beautiful ring hanging on a thin necklace to fall into your hands. Smiling at it while suppressing some tears that were threatening to leave your eyes you had looked up at him. “I doubt you would be caught wearing this anyway.”

Of course, your luck had it for Billy to see him giving you the envelope and the necklace and to disappear through another entrance into the mess hall before he was able to hear you thank the guy for bringing you the envelope.

And then there was that time when you were pretty sure that Billy had become more to you. You weren’t sure what exactly, but more.

A Skype call for you had come through during the day, which Billy who had just passed by, accepted and told the man on the other side of the screen to wait while he got you. Sticking around he had to admit that he felt a little green now that he knew that not only Frank but even you had someone waiting for them when they came back. He wasn’t near enough to hear what was being said, but near enough to see you touch the computer before the connection ended and see you starting to cry terribly after that and rushing away, making Billy think the guy just broke up with you.

Frank had found you shortly afterwards (after Billy had gone to him to tell him what had happened, not being a very touchy-feely guy but thinking you might want someone around). He had talked to you, asked what had happened and you had repeated yourself, telling him that “my heart belongs to the sky now. Everybody I ever loved has left me, even though I am the one risking my life every day.”

Frank had just hugged you closer telling you that wasn't true. That he, Maria and the kids would always be there for you, that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of them now, no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but then Billy had entered the tent, telling Frank that Maria was asking for a Skype call and Frank requested for Billy to stay with you.

You both had stayed quiet for some time except for your sniffles and hiccups that came from you crying earlier.

“You shouldn’t be crying. You have more than enough men falling on their knees for you.”

Confused you had lifted your head to look at him through teary eyes. “What?” “You shouldn’t be crying because of Pete. I heard Garth inviting you on a dinner date as soon as you’re both on leave again and saw the Marine in Frank’s squad giving you the neck-”

You had started to laugh at that. “Wait what? Please don’t tell me that you’re jealous!”

“No! Just… just annoyed I guess. I get called ‘Billy the Beaut’ and get called out on my shit and… and then you come along and you’re allowed to dance on all of our noses?”

You had snorted, wiping your nose on your T-Shirt sleeve. “Welcome to the world of a woman. As normally it's the other way around. Doesn't feel nice, right?” You had chuckled sarcastically. “Anyway, who’s Pete?”

“Who’s… Who’s Pete? Your boy-, well, your now ex-boyfriend? The guy who just broke up with you over Skype?”

Being reminded of that Skype call had hurt you, but you had laughed anyway. His stupid conclusions and obvious obliviousness had helped you think of other things. “I might have kissed a Pete once, but I might have lost the memo that he was my boyfriend because as far as I know, I never had one.”

“But the man-”

“Was my cousin's doctor and now close friend due to the time we had to spend together.”

“But you told Frank something about your heart and Pete. Wait, was?”

Of course, he had heard that. “Pete's another name for our bird. Yes, our callsign is Blackbird, but the guys call him Pete and I guess it stuck. And yes, was. He just called me to tell me that my cousin died of cancer. No… please. I don’t need your condolences. I’ve been around death for quite a while. It feels almost normal already.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“I know… but what can I do? I cried and now I have to stand up and make sure that we don’t meet too quickly again, that's what she would want.”

After that you both had sat there, quiet again, shoulder against shoulder, staring at the green plastic of the tent. Never realising that Billy, however unpleasant that situation might've been for him, never searched for a way out of it.

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arandompostarchive · 4 years ago

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SALEM - Ch. 7

SAVED WORK

Summary: In all the centuries of your existence, you had never been dragged out of hiding by another god, put in a superhero team and forced to save the universe. But it seems your luck has run out.

“So, let me get this straight. You, a person known for your cunning and intelligence put the Tesseract, something people have fought and died to get, on a foreign planet known for its bounty hunters and soldiers?”

Loki only shrugged a bit. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Really? It really seemed like a good idea? Hiding it with people who would probably sell it first chance they got?”

“Well when you put it like that—”

“Loki.” He looked directly at you. “We have to get to it before my sister does. If anyone uses it she’ll probably find it somehow. You do know how to get to Kalan, right?

“Of course, except for the major problem. We have no way to get there.”

You smiled. “Oh, that’s not a problem. I mean, Tony has to have the Quinjet prototypes somewhere right?”

He frowned, “I believe the reason they are ‘prototypes’ is because they didn’t work.”

“Exactly! It’ll take Tony a lot less time to notice. Though I’m pretty sure most of them are scrapped, there’s gotta be at least one that actually flies.”

He sat down on your couch. There was a small pad of paper on the table in front of it, your messy handwriting all over it. Some ideas were circled or underlined, all in dark ink. At least you were thinking this one through, even if there were a few flaws. He’d never admit it, but he’d prefer to have the team’s help with this. But with how slow they were going to even acknowledge the fact that there’s a serious threat… you may not have much of a choice.

“Alright. You find a ship, I’ll gather supplies. If you say you’re willing to watch me, they’ll probably leave us alone for a few hours. Then we can leave.”

“That’s the spirit!”

You smiled at him. It was nice to be there heroes for once. Both of you. Lies and darkness teaming up to save the day? Talk about rare.

Admittedly, you were nervous. Kalan was a planet full of trained soldiers. What they were training for was never exactly clear. They were anticipating a war that didn’t exist yet. Unfortunately, that made for very jumpy Generals. People who’d shoot at anything without an army badge. Although, part of the planet was known for its bounty hunters. They steered clear of the soldiers and even got a few insiders to steal from the armies. Not fun.

Either you try to steal an extremely valuable object from people known for being expert thieves, or steal from an army who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through your head. It might not kill you, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

That left one question, which side should you start with?

Loki stood up, “I’ll see if my brother will help, you find the ship and speak with you teammates. As much as I hate to say it, you should probably leave a note behind. Just in case.”

You nodded. Of course, you had no intention of losing any sort of fight but he had a point. Just in case.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” He smiled sadly before leaving the room. He had a point. It just wasn’t a point you wanted to think about.

You sunk down into the couch and grabbed your pad of paper. You tore away some of your ideas and scribbled down a small note. After searching for probably twenty minutes you managed to find an envelope and stuff the letter in. You wrote a small message on the front.

“Hi Tony. If I’m not back in exactly two weeks, open this envelope. I know you’ll probably open this before that anyway, but I’ve never asked for anything. Just do this. Please.

-Y/n

Ps, I really do need a nickname, huh?”

You weren’t sure if that would work. Maybe he’d wait. Just in case, you didn’t give him enough info to find you. Just in case he tried before two week were up. It probably wouldn’t take that long, but better safe than sorry. You left the note on the table in front of your couch. He’d probably come to your room first after he found you missing, so that guaranteed he’d find it after you were long gone.

Now to find that prototype.

Tony had a garage, he’d keep most of his cars in there, but he needed somewhere to keep it right? You knew he had a small space to work on the cars, improve them. And if you had a prototype, that’s where you’d keep it.

Getting into the garage was a slight issue. Tony didn’t like just anyone strolling in and messing with his stuff (He’d decided that after someone spray painted one of his cars). Whoops.

Obviously Tony gave himself access, along with Bruce. He was probably one of the more responsible Avengers, and Tony trusted him with that sort of technology. That and Bruce helped out once in a while.

Since Tony would most definitely not let you in, you opted for Bruce.

You (unsurprisingly) found him in the lab working on something or other. It was fairly safe to assume that Tony used some sort of key card, which means in would probably be in his pocket.

Great.

“Hey Bruce, I really like that shirt, by the way.

He turned around and smiled, “Oh hey! Wait. What do you want?”

He stopped working on whatever it was, it looked like a phone or something.

“Can’t I just compliment my friends because I feel like it?”

He sighed, “Well of course you can, but it usually means you want something.”

“Really, this time I don’t want anything. What are you working on?”

He clearly didn’t believe you, but he turned back to his project. “It’s a tracker Steve wanted me to work on. He’s thinking of trying to find that Ker woman and track whatever energy she’s putting off. But it’s kinda hard to do without having any of that ‘energy’.”

You nodded along, slowly slipping your hand into his lab coat pocket. He didn’t seem to notice.

Damn it. Wrong pocket.

You moved to his other side.

“Does Steve really think he can take her? I mean, Loki was losing when we got there.” You slipped your hand into his other pocket. Definitely a key card.

“I think we’ve got a good chance. Besides, all we know is that Loki doesn’t like her and that ‘Doom is rising’ which basically tells us nothing. And uh, it’s not like we were given a time frame. What can we do really? I doubt Loki would ever tell us the truth. He might want to save the Earth for whatever reason, but it’s a pretty good way to get rid of us.”

You nodded slightly. You knew when Loki lied. Granted, it wasn’t exactly easy, but you’d gotten fairly good at it.

You grabbed the card and glance down quickly. A small ‘A’ was on it. You slipped it into your own pocket before responding.

“Yeah well, hopefully he’s right. Anyway, see you later!” You walked out of the room leaving a confused Bruce behind.

You immediately went to the elevator and scanned in Bruce’s card.

It started going down and eventually opened into Tony’’s garage. You walked across and opened a back room. It had a large door that led outside along with a few cars and ships. Well, that explains why his garage is so big. You always assumed that was Tony being Tony.

You ran to one of the ships, it definitely wasn’t perfect. The outside had some chipped paint, but there was a key card next to it. Seems like Tony didn’t always have the same security he has now.

You opened the garage door that led outside. Tony was upstairs and probably wouldn’t be out of his lab for a few hours. It would be a while before anyone noticed. Perfect.

You left Bruce’s card on one of Tony’s work stations and stuffed the ship’s key card in your pocket.

Now it was just a matter of talking to Tony.

***

Tony wasn’t difficult to find. He was in his lab talking to Peter about something or other.

“Hey Tony, Pete. How are you?” You sat down on a stool across from them and they looked up. It seemed like they were working on the other half of Bruce’s tracker.

“Well if it isn’t the Maleficent herself.” Tony smiled.

“Maleficent, huh?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not crazy about it. We’ll get there.”

You smiled. “Hey, I did want to mention. It seems like I’m the only one up for watching Loki, I’m okay with doing it for a while.”

He smiled, “Alright then, taking one for the team.” Peter had a small smile on his face.

“Also, Tony?” He cocked his head to the side slightly.

“I guess, well. I got a little existential today, so if anything ever happens to me, I’m really glad we could be friends. You too Peter.” You smiled, resting your hand on Peter’s shoulder for a second.

“Well okay.” Tony said. “A little random but I’m glad we’re friends too? Any particular reason or are we just worried about the apocalypse?”

“No, no reason. Just introspective I guess. I’ll see you later.” You walked out of the lab. Peter looked over his shoulder and smiled. You smiled back.

***

“Okay, you got supplies and weapons, I got a ship. Ready to go?”

Loki nodded, walking through garage with you. “You did talk to your teammates, correct? It would be much more helpful if they didn’t try to follow us half-way across the universe.”

You nodded, “Yeah. I mentioned it to Tony. Unless there’s a mission he probably won’t check in for a bit.”

You reached the ship pretty quickly and climbed in, dropping the two bags full or mostly weaponry on the ground.

“So, what do you think? Tony must’ve made it years ago.” Loki looked around. It really wasn’t a bad ship. Almost identical to the Quinjet, even if it was a bit smaller. You sat down in the pilot’s seat, Clint would flip.

You took the key card out of your pocket and put it in a small slot next to your chair. You knew most of the controls from watching Clint. Until he told you to leave so he could focus.

You started it up, get yourself out of the garage and into the air. You take off was a little rocky, but hey, at least you know it flies.

“Um, C-Y/n, I mean. You do actually know how to fly this, correct?”

You shrugged. “I mean, it can’t be that hard, right?”

Loki rolled his eyes and sat down next to you. “Let me help, at least I know where we’re going.”

“Fair enough.”

***

Traveling through space was nothing like you remembered. Olympus was a bit like Asgard. There are easier ways to get there, but space travel would probably work. Tartarus on the other hand was a little harder to access. The Tesseract would hopefully help with that. But for now, Loki was steering your towards Kalan. You had never really been there yourself, but he said it wasn’t too far.

He was right. It wasn’t long before Loki found a fairly safe place to land. (He really couldn’t drive the ship much better than you, but that might just be the ship itself)

It was on a hill past any sort of town. Looking out of the window you could see lights in the distance. It was dark, a purple sky and dark plants covered some of your view. There was some light smoke from some sort of fire. Loki opened up the door and you grabbed the key card, putting it in your pocket and stepped out behind Loki.

There were plants on the ground, it felt like grass but much softer. There was light from a moon behind you. You could see two other moons behind it, but they didn’t give off the same blue hue.

It was beautiful. The small town with curling smoke was in front of you, and when you turned around you could see other lights in the distance. They were more organized. The spaces between each of them looked exactly the same.

“You should grab a weapon, Y/n. Just to be safe.” You nodded and walked back onto the ship. You knew your way around a gun, that’s for sure, but you were much more old school.

Loki had grabbed a few of your weapons, likely from your room. You had no doubt Thor showed him where it was, good to see he was helping you, even if he wouldn’t come with.

One of your main weapons was a scythe. Part of it folded into a smaller staff about the size of your forearm with a blade on one side and a handle on the other. It was sort of hard to handle at first, but you liked it. Granted, you still had a long way to go. You only picked up weaponry a year ago. Magic was much easier.

But still, a physical weapon was nice.

“Your choice, Y/n.” You looked up at Loki. “We can try the bounty hunters or the soldiers. I know not where it went, just that it is here.”

“You sure you should leave this up to me? If we got to the bounty hunter, we’ll have to steal it, if it’s even there. If we go to the soldiers, we’ll have to find a way to get into their base without fighting everyone off.” Talk about a rock and a hard place.

“Yes, neither option is ideal. We could always try getting to Tartarus without it?”

You shook your head, “No. That’d take a hell of a lot longer. And we’d have to think of an easy way out. Not happening.”

You sat down in the grass, sighing lightly at the soft feeling beneath your hand.

“Okay then. Let’s try the soldiers. If it’s not there, they probably have more technology for us to locate it. Let’s go.” You stood up and closed the ship before you started down the hill to the much more organized lights. “We’re going to have to find a way in. You can shape shift and I’ll try and find some sort of disguise.” Loki nodded and started down the hill after you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t silently praying that it was there somewhere. But things are rarely easy, huh?

***

#loki x reader #loki #salem #saved work #fanfic

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andiwanderer · 5 years ago

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New Kid

Tony Stark x daughter!Reader

Overview: Frustrated by how Tony was treating the new kid, you felt like an outcast. After the outburst of your father, you finally told him your decision. Because no matter how hard you try to gain his attention, his sole focus was directed to this new kid, named Peter. Maybe parting ways from your father can finally make him notice you. a/n: i'm sorry for the poor written summary! please bear with me! XD

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff

MASTERLIST

a/n: my first fanfic post, please, pleeeassseee! bear with me✨

"Parker!"

"Hey Parker, look at this."

"That kid is doing his job. I commend that. And also he's my intern, so get yours."

"He said his name was quote on quote "Spiderman". You got that, Rhodey?"

"D'you think? You know you have a potential Pete,"

"That spiderling?"

"Peter, just contact Happy on that one, I'm on my way."

"Mr. Parker, the Avengers just wanted your safety. Courtesy of me, of course."

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark ask your presence in his office."

Y/N had enough. It was like 4 in the morning and she hasn't got her proper sleep. She reached for her pillow and pushed it to cover her entire face along with her ear. Now, silently hoping she can finally sleep.

She really had enough not just because of exhaustion. But because of the 'New Kid' from Queens, Peter Parker.

She can't have a full day without hearing that kid's name uttered by her father, Tony.

Not that she was jealous of him but she's getting there. She used to be her father's apple of the eye. She used to have that same praises and care from Stark, then this Sokovia Accords began to ruin it.

Y/N knew what's right from wrong, Tony taught her that. And being controlled by the government, it was as though not having the freedom to have your own insights expressed. You can't do that because you're their personal puppet, the only thing that is right for them is their own judgment.

So she joined the Captain's team and learned the knowledge that Barnes wasn't a killer and he was controlled by HYDRA, the organization that they've been chasing, and it was not him who killed the T'challa's father, T'chaka. He was framed.

The encounter in Germany happened, there entered the new mighty intern of Stark, Peter Benjamin Parker also known as Spiderman.

They seemed pretty close for her liking and from that moment on she knew something is about to change.

They went back to the compound after what happened, finally having a truce. Understanding each side, well a majority of them, but there are two certain people who are still not on speaking terms.

Here's the thing, Y/N, and Tony fought regarding the accords before parting ways. And both of them seemed to heightened their pride and refuse to apologize to each other. They still think that their own opinion is better than the other.

Living in one compound doesn't help, it's difficult to not cross paths when wandering around. The only advantage of this was finally they're having small talks.

"Mr. Stark, I just went to grab my bag."

"You go ahead on the lab, I'll just..." Tony's voice trailed off as they walk towards their destination.

Y/N's eyes peeled open. Why can I still hear their voices in my sleep?

She knows drowsiness already left her and this will take a toll on her later on.

Now that she's awake, might as well start her day. With that, she sat up and stretched her arms out with a yawn. Grabbed her phone and hoodie before making her way into the kitchen.

When she got there the lights turned on, it was motion-sensored. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"What's good in the morning," she murmured as she open the cupboard and reaches what she needed. "The sun hasn't even peaked yet."

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, miss?"

"More like woke by an annoying voice."

"I apologize for that, it seemed that I was the one who is guilty-"

"Geez FRIDAY, I was only kidding. Can't take a joke?"

"Your voice was monotone, it was hard to tell."

"Not a morning person..." she sat on one of the stools and continued stirring her cup of milk as she entertained herself by scrolling onto her phone.

"You're up too early." Bucky's voice filled the room slightly startling the lone girl in the kitchen. He removed himself from leaning against the frame of the doorway. Making his way to Y/N, he sat beside her.

Glancing up from her phone she met his gaze, "I could ask you the same question."

"Don't smart ass me, doll." he gave her a stern look. "I got back from the bathroom and you weren't on the bed."

That made Y/N's voice back down and instantly felt guilty. It's dawn and she's giving her man an early headache to nurse for the entire day.

So she wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him, nuzzling her face on his chest. She felt him responding to the embrace, hugging her fragile body against him tighter.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled through his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head while caressing the back of her head, "I'm sorry too. I was just worried... I thought you were gone."

"That won't happen. I'm a pain in your ass remember, it's not easy to get rid of me." she chuckled, taking in his warmth.

"Is there a problem? Did you have a nightmare, Hmm? You can tell me everything, I'll listen."

Bucky knew about her struggle seeing the two, namely the man of iron and the kid with the sticky web, having a bond like father and son. Every day he sees the look in her eyes, that hostile look that she gives the kid. If staring is deadly, Peter would've been cold meat. So this topic isn't new to him. And every day it reaches a different level.

"Not really..." she pulled herself from the hug, grab his hand into hers, and intertwined them. "Is it I or Peter and my father are so close right now, even mom can't break the two apart. If I didn't know them I might've assumed they're connected by blood."

"In my perspective, I don't really pay much attention to anyone except you."

His statement brought a smile to her face. "You're crazy."

Bucky leaned in until his lips are ghosting into hers, "Only crazy for you." leaving a peck on Y/N's slightly parted lips that made her cheeks burn. She lightly shook her head on his lame comebacks and partly to somehow ease her flustered face.

"But seriously, Buck. I-" she inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Her next words came out as a whisper, "I'm jealous...I'll admit. I am now..." she finished her drink and went to the sink washing the things she used, Bucky still eyeing her waiting for her next words. "There's not much to tell, Peter was the son he never had. He was always enthusiastic about it when he talks to mom," pertaining to Pepper "I can't blame him..." when she was done, she turned, her hips leaning against the sink. "I don't want to think about it but I don't know, Buck. Sometimes I just want to d-"

"Disappear, disperse, die?" her head whipped to where the voice came from. Tony walked into the room, screwdriver in hand.

He was headed to his workspace when he heard her daughter talking, her voice was serious so he got curious and got sidetracked.

Tony's eyes shift from Y/N to Bucky, confusion was etched on his face. He can't read either of their expression so he made his own conclusion. "You're thinking about killing yourself?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at his statement. I was going to say disappear. Which also has the same meaning by the way. She was about to interject when Tony immediately cut her off, not wanting her to say anything. "Is that it?" He arched a brow at her, he was starting to get pissed. "Aren't you even grateful you're alive? Many people die every single day. It wasn't their choice, hell they'll do anything they can to be alive. And here you are having the opportunity to live thinking how to end your life? Why did that thing even cross your mind."

Bucky sensed Y/N's tense composure as her hand began to fidget her shirt in habit when she's nervous or scared, Bucky noticed it but Tony didn't, so he got between the two. "Tony..."

"Shut your mouth, metal man. We're in a conversation as you can see. Can you please-" the guy waved his hand dismissively, gesturing him to vanish, then turned to Y/N.

He pointed the screwdriver at her, "What happened to your smart mouth, young lady, did that also died?" firmness laced his voice, she can't even decipher if that man was still the father she grew up to. It was like this moment, he became a cold jerk father to her.

Not wanting to deal with his shit, she grabbed her phone at the counter, and without saying anything she walked out.

How did he even think I want to die? I had only said 'D-'! How that does make any sense. I can say dance or whatever d-verb I can apply to my sentence!

Almost stumble to the new arrival, Peter Parker. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him before making a beeline to her room.

As to Bucky, he just stared at Stark who shook his head as he brought his free hand up to massage his temple.

Peter shot a question, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes, what just happened?"

It was Barnes' turn to shake his head with amusement because of the two. Before Tony could utter a word, Bucky left and followed Y/N to her room.

***

"What the hell was that?" he angrily spat at Y/N as he left his suit.

"Tony-"

"Rogers this is between us so get lost."

Steve looked in Y/N's direction whose eyes were glued on the floor. He wants to get between them because there has been a misunderstanding and Tony had been declining to listen to the captain ever since the time they finished the mission. Turning off his earpiece and blasting off defeating them on getting to the compound first. He didn't want to be rude, Tony was right and he didn't want to meddle with them, afraid that he might get the topic even worse. But if anything goes wrong he'll step in no matter what. So he ushered the team to leave and go to the med bay to have their wounds treated.

"That doesn't mean it excludes you, Barnes."

That made Y/N lift her gaze, meeting his steel-blue eyes that were full of concern and love. She gently nodded at him, giving him the idea that she can handle it and Bucky did what she silently asked.

Tony paced around the room. "You are well aware of what you just did, correct? And you know that it was gonna put you in danger!"

I was just trying to save you. She wanted to say those words to him but witnessing how riled up he is right now, made her heart race. Yes, she's afraid of him whenever he's angry that's why she never gave him a reason to be angry at her. The first was with the accords, and the list might continue because of this.

"What were you even thinking! It doesn't mean that now you're a shield agent, you should put yourself on death's door! Or just because you're fulfilling your task of getting yourself killed. You're taking every mission as an opportunity!"

It's not like that... Tears are now falling freely on her face.

"I will talk to Fury about this. And Y/N," his eyes were cold when she gained the courage to look at him, "you're out of the team. Sooner or later SHEILD will kick you out too. Believe it or not, this is for your own good."

She stared at him in disbelief. This was her entire life, he can't take that away from her, for the first time she had the urge to argue but her father cut her before she can speak.

"If only you're as obedient as Parker this wouldn't happen."

That made her heartbreak into many pieces. It was like hearing her own father saying that if only Peter was his son.

Y/N eyes were now red and puffy. Cheeks and nose flustered because of her crying. The tears are making their way down her cheeks uncontrollably and seemed that it's not stopping any time soon. Biting her lips to stop the whimper from being heard. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to somehow stop the flow of her tears.

That's why she didn't see the reaction of her father upon seeing her in her state at the moment. Guilt was already eating him.

Assuming that their conversation was over, she turned her heel and took her to leave with low shoulders. Even though she wanted to be angry at him because of his statement, she can't. Tony Stark raised her well and disrespecting isn't one of those.

"I--" suddenly his voice died. Was really apologizing for that hard?--

"I'm leaving..." She said with a tiny voice.

What?

Y/N swallowed the lump on her throat before saying, "I'm going to fix my things, maybe I should give you some space. I don't like s-seeing you angry. I will join Bucky on their trip to Wakanda. This might give you some peace of mind. And don't worry, I won't kill myself, I'll let a natural death fall on me."

She waited for him to respond or anything but when he didn't she ran towards her room with only one thing in mind, He didn't even try to stop me.

Bruce who was headed to the med bay heard a little of their conversation--he didn't mean to eavesdrop--he approached Tony. "Was that really necessary?"

Tony who felt guilty answered, "She was having suicidal thoughts, what was I supposed to do!"

"Understand her! What the hell, Stark! You only made it worse!"

***

"What the--what are you doing here?" Y/N eyes widen when he saw her father who has the same expression as hers, and a red floating cape behind him.

"I'm the one who should ask you that, missy." he frowns at her. "It's dangerous here! How did you ev--you should've stayed at your house. You could have get yourself in danger!--you know what screw this--" Tony snarls at her clearly he cared for her well-being, however, Y/N didn't acknowledge it instead took it negatively.

"I can handle myself just fine, Stark." she rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, so it's Stark now. I didn't teach you how to disrespect, young-"

That's when Peter came swinging in and landed beside Tony. Y/N's eyes narrowed at their suit, how can she not recognize it. It's nanotech just like hers, and it was originally her idea by the way. Formulated when she was 12 years old, being fascinated by technology and all that stuff.

She felt insecure because of Peter... She was the daughter she didn't even know if creating a suit like that for her crossed her father's mind. She made her own damn suit, okay.

"I thought you were a spiderman, so why do you always follow him like a good little soldier? What are you a cat who's having fun and chasing his tail?"

"Y/N, mouth."

Peter became tense but quickly composed himself, ignoring Y/N's sarcastic statement, "Miss Y/N, I want to apologize-"

"Apologize? For what?"

Tony is sure, she can be stubborn as him. She's his daughter after all.

When the kid didn't reply she huffs, "See you don't even know what you're apologizing for. So if I were you just step back, I'm had to get Dr. Strange from that two-foot Squidward."

Squidward, huh. He can't help but remember what he had called the alien-like antagonist that they had been chasing. Turns out they gave him the same nickname. That's my daughter.

"Wait, you know his name?" Tony questioned, pertaining to the magician.

"Long story, years passed, things changed, many things happen but--whatever."

"We have a plan actually..." peter said meekly, completely intimidated by Y/N. He thought that Stark's definition of her was all too good to be true, cause he can prove it's all the opposite but maybe he just met her at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Oh yeah?" she arched a brow at them as she cocked her head at the side. "What is it?"

***

"I want to protect the stone."

"And I want you to thank me, now. Go ahead I'm listening."

"For what? Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?--Me."

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Y/N bit her lower lip to prevent her chuckle from erupting. Cause Strange said was so true.

"-flying donut, billions and miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm back up." Peter raised his hand.

"No, you're still away. The adults are talking"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm confused about the relationship here. What is he your ward?"

"No-"

"Stark's son," Y/N interject. She's bitter alright.

Strange lift his gaze from where she was sitting on the ceiling. Looking confused, "Your looks don't resemble."

"Exactly! cause I don't have a brother and I am nobody's daughter." her feet swaying back and forth as she answers and it echoes all around the ship.

"Please don't mind her that's not true. I'm Peter by the way."

"Dr. Strange."

"Oh you're using made-up names, I'm Spiderman then."

"Y/N can you please go down, you might get yourself hurt up there." Tony pleads.

"You said you two can handle it. I'll just stay here thank you for the concern, but no thank you."

She watches them on her spot, not really paying attention to what they're saying but she senses Strange and Stark's topic was serious.

Y/N was acting like a slightly drunk lady, that's what the others' observations were, but she wasn't. She's just sleepy and she acts cranky when she does. And she's missing her guy who at the moment might be pissed at her because of her sudden disappearance. Oh, Bucky... I could use a hug...

After their conversation, Tony approached Peter, and like what the highest person does to proclaim a knight, he does it with Peter along with the lines of 'You're an Avenger now.'

Letting the guy recover from his shock she calls him, the kid met her gaze. "I hold no grudge, really."

Parker was having second thoughts on her statement either it was a half-hearted claim or not, regardless he answered. "Thanks." giving her a shy smile and Y/N returning a tight-lipped smile.

***

"Mr. Stark, I don't want to go.. I don't want to."

Y/N stared at them as she sit on the ground, tired and weary. She doesn't need to ask them what it felt to disappear, she herself can feel it inside of her. That weird feeling seemed hard to explain.

Witnessing this moment in front of her shattered the little part of her heart left. That should be her in his father's arms, that should be her having that last moment with him before she disappear-but no. It's always Peter.

At that moment she felt numb, as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. She never thought that she'll welcome death open arms. Y/N is done, she knew that.

"Sorry..." was the last word Peter uttered before he turned into dust.

Good riddance.

The older Stark can't still register what happened so when he turned his head, his eyes looking for a certain someone. He was filled with dread when he didn't found her.

"Y/N?"

"He did it." Nebula stated pertaining to Thanos that his plan on wiping half of the planet has begun.

Now that it was all sinking into him, he can't help but blame himself for not doing his job in stopping that grape titan, and maybe if he wasn't an asshole enough to his daughter, maybe he still has her in his arms like when she was still a baby. He was a complete dick towards her. It was all coming back to him, all the times they had been together.

It broke his heart when he watched her ran to her room that day. He can't speak because his pride was fighting off his conscience. He didn't want to see her cry, and the idea that it was his fault for making her leave dreaded him. He tried to follow her to Wakanda but he was afraid she might ignore her, afraid of the instances that might happen if he does one wrong move. Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were his only contact on asking how Y/N has been and their answers were always the same.

Peter and Y/N were almost alike, maybe that's the reason why in doing so his relationship with her drifted.

If only he'd stopped Y/N from leaving maybe this wouldn't have happened. If only he didn't sign the accords maybe things didn't change the way they were...

If only...

a/n: i'm really sorry for the crappy plot..

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noncommited-writer · 6 years ago

Text

An AU where Tony and Peter get kidnapped on a mission. As they wait for help, their kidnappers resort to torture. Somehow, the pain inflicted on themselves isn’t the worst thing. Starker. And yes, I am aware the moodboard is bad. TM: Mentions of torture.

——

“No, please, stop. Stop!” Tony can feel pure desperation flood his body, leaking into his fearful tone when he hears Peter cry out in pain for what seemed like the millionth time in the last hour. The goon takes one glance at the quivering man and rolls his eyes. He gives a harsh kick to the shackled kid—a loud pitiful wail leaving his bruised lips—and spits on Peter’s curled body.

“Pathetic.”

He can feel raw, ice-cold anger rushing through his veins, teeth gritting hard. His nails dig into his palms as his mind whirls like a furious thunderstorm with possibilities of ways to hurt this man.

“I’m going to kill you first.” Tony’s gaze is burning cold, sharp as the pin pricks he feels in his heart when he hears Peter’s whimpers echo in the chamber. I’m going to make it hurt.

The man huffs in amusement—as if anything about this was even a smidge amusing in any way—and he turns on his heel, not sparing them another glance as he leaves the dark, musty room, a loud clang sounding when he enforces the lock mechanism.

He moves immediately, tugging on the heavy chains that stay attached to the casing around his ankle, and slides over to Peter’s beaten body, the small stature of the teenager making it worse for Tony to watch Peter rattle with every breath he takes.

When he’s right next to the thin mattress they threw Peter on, his hand reaches out to touch him, but stopping in the air as he is unsure of where the younger man is uninjured.

Only for his resolve to crumble to dust when a broken whine leaves the kid. He cards his fingers through the brown locks, unable to find the strength to even convince himself he’s okay enough to keep hearing the same painful sounds over and over again.

“I’ll put a stop to this, alright, sweetheart? I’ll tell them everything.” Tony leans in, trying to find the comforting scent of Peter, only to smell it intermingling with the coppery tang of blood. The boy shakes his head weakly, turning over slightly to look up at his mentor and love. His brown eyes hasn’t lost their bright hope, still staring up at Tony with that unbreakable will that the engineer loves oh so much.

“No, no, no, no, don’t. Tony, don’t. Just…” Peter’s eyes flutter as the exhaustion starts to settle in. “Let me take this.”

For a split second, Tony sees a flash of Yinsen tainted by his blood, covered in gunpowder and ash, telling him that his family is waiting for him.

I want this.

Tony inhales sharply, his eyes stinging. And it’s not because of the cut under his eye.

For a split second, he feels his chest concave.

“I can’t keep watching you get hurt because of me. We can swap.” Tony’s other hand comes up to cradle the blue and black cheek (already healing despite just getting it an hour ago).

Peter’s brows raise up in incredulity despite the tiredness in his eyes, “You think this is your fault? And swapping? There’s no way that’s happening. Tony, I’m asking for this. So that you don’t get hurt.”

Peter shimmies his shoulders so he moves in closer, until Tony can see his brown eyes clearer in the moonlight glinting through the bars. He shudders at Tony’s touch on his neck, the hand trailing down to caress his sore muscles with love and care; each brush a show of concern.

“And besides, it buys us more time because of my healing ability.” Tony’s eyes harden, the stinging in them becoming worse. He clenches his jaw and looks to the side, his heart twisting at how Peter seems to soften at every gentle touch, as if relieved he’s feeling anything else but the pain. How can he let Peter go through one more second of this? He can’t bear with another hour of hearing the worst sounds of his life; he’ll never be able to remove them from his memory.

“Tony, look at me.”

Tony takes a beat to keep his gaze trained away, despite the hot tear that comes rolling down without having to even look at the bruised face of his loved one. He finds it annoying how more tears seem to follow when he meets Peter’s brilliant eyes.

“I know you can hold out on watching me better than I can watching you. I’d break faster than DUM-E breaking blenders.” Peter wishes he can reach out to brush away the tears. Curse the ropes. He shifts until Tony is basically hovering over him. Without stumbling through his words once, he says the next words without skipping missing any of the meaning.

“You are so strong, you know that? You are.” Peter’s eyes are so full of trust and faith, it can make Tony’s head spin. “And I know it hurts to see this but trust me, I’m going to be okay.”

Peter breathes in, a jarring cough wracking his body, and he leans in even closer, nuzzling into Tony’s arm.

“I can heal from all my injuries. My fear is that if they go too far with hurting you, you’ll never recover.” He blinks up at Tony, utmost seriousness in his tone. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that. So, trust that I’m going to be okay.”

Tony stops, and stares at Peter. Not for the first time, he wonders how he ever deserved to be able to bask and marvel at this beauty, much less even receive its affection. He sighs, and despite the emotions warring within him, he gives into his trust for Peter.

“I trust you.”

Peter lets out a relieved sigh, pressing a soft kiss to Tony’s bloodied knuckles—from when they almost made their escape a few hours ago.

“I love you, Tony.”

Tony doesn’t stop staring at Peter.

“But I swear to God, Pete, if he breaks any of your bones at least let me kill the man.” The teenager smiles, and Tony melts.

“I guess one man is dead already cause I’m pretty sure I have a broken rib.”

Tony brushes a lock away from Peter’s face. He takes a moment to drink in the sight before softly sighing, and pressing his busted lips onto Peter’s forehead.

“I love you too, Pete.”

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #Ironspider #Starker angst #Starker moodboard #Moodboard #starker angst

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spongeekat · 5 years ago

Text

Life as a Super powered Omega Sucks (Chapter 3)

read on ao3

Masterlist Here

“So we’re just hanging around until you need us?”

“Pretty much. Is that an issue?”

“No, Mr. Stark.” Peter answered immediately, before the dejected tone in his voice could be called out. He glanced over at Wade, who was grinning mockingly at him.

“ No, Mr. Stark .” Wade repeated in a whispered girlish tone, and Peter grabbed a pillow to launch at his face. It was a little harder than he intended, he could admit, especially when the impact caused Wade to go tumbling off the side of his bed.

“Great. Things were a little difficult today with Romanoff and she had a close call when she was nearly discovered. Once we verify that our blueprints of the armory are correct, we’ll commence with our plans. Until then, we have to assure that we have no chance of alerting these guys to our presence. You two have a funny way of drawing attention to yourselves.” Mr Stark paused on the other end of the line, and his voice lowered suspiciously. “You haven’t done anything to make people notice you, have you?”

“Uhhh…” Peter paused thoughtfully, scratching the side of his head. The bed shifted underneath him, Wade pathetically crawling back up onto the mattress like a wounded puppy. “I don’t think so. Besides like, the usual going out for food and stuff.”

“Terrific. So you’re already pulling your weight. Sorry, kid, I know this probably sounded faster paced and more exciting at the meeting, but things sometimes have to take their time. SHIELD has been planning the dismantlement of these terrorists longer than you’ve been Spider-Man.”

“It’s okay. Just happy to help.”

“If babysitting Diaperpool gets too annoying, call me or Steve. We’ll send someone over to muzzle him until he’s needed.”

“Wade’s been fine. Annoying, but fine.” Peter returned, snickering at Wade’s offended expression.

“I gotta go before Barton and Romanoff decide to sneak off and mess with Coulson. Stay safe.”

“Will do, Mr. Stark. Thanks.”

Mr Stark hung up with a click, leaving Peter to stare at his burner with disappointment. He’d hoped things would maybe have progressed further, especially considering he was usually consistently busy in his daily life, and at the present moment, he was so insanely bored he almost wished he had a term paper due tomorrow. It wasn’t like they could go sight-seeing, either; the others had made it painfully clear that they were to stay put in the small city until someone came to collect them.

He still had more pressing matters hanging over his head as well, and every hour he spent on suppressants he felt like he was going insane.

Peter had taken his fourth dose of suppressants a few hours back, and he could already feel his body begging to be let off of them. His skin was hypersensitive, and even the brush of a blanket was enough to make him throw the entire comforter onto the floor. Wade had been his only distraction- his presence somehow endearing despite the fact his scent was overwhelming at times- but even witty banter wasn’t enough to keep his focus entirely off of the symptoms plaguing his system. He quietly turned his head towards the window, peering past sheer curtains to stare at the sky dripping with thick, grey clouds. The dreary town seemed just a bit heavier, especially with the trickling of rain pattering against the paths and pulling up dirt into the air.

He just wanted to feel needed. Was that too much to ask?

“Sooo, we’re sitting ducks?” Wade asked from behind Peter, and he felt Wade inching closer towards him. He shot a look back at the man, who retreated to instead stand a foot or so away. “Wanna go out?”

“We’ve looked through the entire place twice. I don’t think we’re gonna find any new food places just because we walk around again.” Peter groaned.

“No, no, no, I don’t mean here. We’re, what, 45 minutes out of Moscow? You’d love it there, Pete! I know you said some other time, but I can tell you’re going crazy here, and I’m supposed to be the only unstable one.”

Peter sat without a word, waiting in amusement for him to say he was joking. The look of determination on Wade’s face made him realize he was dead serious. “Moscow? Just so we can mess everything up if someone recognizes you?”

“Not the nice parts with cameras and mafias, obviously. The shitty parts is where you have all the fun. And anyone who recognizes me there probably paid me to kill their rich cousin at some point. We could find a party, or an orgy if that’s more your style. Oooo, you’ve never been to a party, have you? It’d be so fun!” Wade didn’t respect Peter’s wish for space this time, bounding directly onto the bed to sit inside his personal bubble. “Russian parties are the coolest, because there’s no rules and everyone here is fucking depressing. So they go hard to have a little bit of fun before drowning their sadness in vodka.”

“I’m not going to a party. Or another city. I’m not leaving the hotel room. Mr. Stark would kill me.” Peter said in irritation, rolling off the bed to stand near the window. The breeze coming through reminded him of his pathetic blanket and uncomfortable bed he’d have to huddle for warmth again that night, as he grimaced. “This is my one chance to prove I can do things right.”

“And you still will! Just after having a wild night.”

Peter stared at him wordlessly.

“Okay, a slightly crazy night that you don’t wake up too hungover from.”

“Wade.”

“Fine, fine, Pete, be a drag. But I’m getting on the next party train to Moscow with or without you. And I really hope it’s with you, because I need my arm candy to get into these things. Looking like a burn victim only gets me so far, honey buns.” Wade jumped off Peter’s bed, crossing towards the door. When he reached it, he threw a look back over his shoulder with the saddest puppy-dog look he could muster. “You can still go on this infiltration mission later. You’re travelling. I know you don’t usually have the money to do that. Why not enjoy it for one night? You deserve a reward for being a hero every once in a while.”

Peter sucked in a breath, but didn’t comment. He didn’t deserve anything. He had the power to help people, so he was obligated to do whatever he could.

But as Wade left, Peter could feel the comfort he’d had in his presence ebbing out of his body as well, being replaced by the tense achiness he’d been feeling for the past 2 days. Being left alone sounded like the last thing he wanted right now- even though it was usually how he preferred to spend days he didn’t feel so hot- and he wasn’t so sure Wade would even make it back to their motel in one piece if left alone to make bad decisions.

If Mr Stark were here, he would tell Peter not to listen to Wade and to stay put as he was instructed to do. But Mr Stark wasn’t here, and Wade’s reasoning for why he should go was weighing heavily on his mind. He didn’t get to travel often and so far he was spending this vacation couped up in a small town waiting to be useful for an hour. Who cares how he spent the other 96, so long as he didn’t jeopardize the mission?

He was pulling his shoes on quicker than he could make a decision, and had his door locked and a dose of suppressants in his back pocket a moment later. Wade lit up when he stepped out into the hall to find Peter already waiting for him.

“Glad to see you still know how to have fun.” The merc beamed, extending an escorting arm to Peter he refused to take. “I promise I’ll make rebelling worth it.”

“No Moscow.” Peter said, his voice stiff. “But there was that cool looking bar up the road- the one with the skylight? - and we still have enough cash to get both of us at least mildly drunk, right?”

“I like the way you think, Spidey.” Wade chuckled, leading them down the grimy hallway towards the exit of the hotel. “I’ll drag you to Moscow or Paris some other time. And if we run out of money for drinks, I’ve got a few Xanys in my back pocket. Either way, I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’re fucked up, baby boy.”

Wade spent the entire walk there detailing his past crazy adventures and near-death experiences when visiting Russia. Peter nearly regretted agreeing to follow him, particularly when he started to delve into the R-rated details, but he had to admit the distraction was nice. Even the worry that Mr. Stark would find out where they’d gone was preferable to sitting alone in his room, trying to ignore the cramps deep in his abdomen.

The bar exterior was a bit busier than it had been the night before, but this spot seemed to be the only social gathering place in the entire town, so it wasn’t a surprise to find a mixture of people of all ages laughing and drinking with one another. Music played faintly from inside- some Russian pop music, Peter guessed- and the lights inside were dim, making it conveniently easier for Peter and Wade to keep up some anonymity.

Wade pushed through the doorway with a grip on Peter’s wrist to drag him, the back of Wades body melting into a dark blob as they entered the space. As they approached the actual bar, Wade drew Peter up next to him, giving him a toothy grin. “What do you normally order?”

“At..bars?” Peter asked, hushing his voice. “I’m 20. I’ve never been inside of one.”

Wade chuckled in a way that made Peter’s face immediately light up in embarrassment, leaning cooly against the counter. “You’re a superhero, friends with a billionaire scientist that has access to all his cool gadgets and gizmos and shit, and spend your nights probably stopping bar hits, and you don’t have a fake ID?”

“No? I mean my friend and I have drank like wine coolers and stuff before from her parents’ fridge.”

“You’re lucky the drinking age here is 18, you’re cute enough that no one can say no to that face, and I can speak the language.”

Wade turned to speak to the bartender as Peter’s stomach twisted, and he waited impatiently beside him to get their drinks so he could get some space back between him and Wade’s overpowering scent.

It took a minute of negotiation for Wade to finally get the man to fork over 2 double-shots and 2 mixed drinks, and Wade passed him a bill that looked way too big for the amount of alcohol they were handed. Peter grabbed his offered glasses and they picked their way through the crowd to an open loveseat furthest from the speakers to protect Peter’s sensitive hearing, and give them their privacy from the rest of the bar goers.

“Bottoms up, Petey pie!” Wade saluted with his shot, making Peter mimic the motion.

As they both chugged their shot, Peter couldn’t help but think that was definitely how he wanted to be right now with the hormones raging through his system, effectively making him choke on the last ounce of alcohol.

“Whoaaa, you really are inexperienced, huh?” Wade laughed, patting Peter on the back as he sputtered for air. “You gotta hang out with me more if you can’t even handle a vodka shot.”

“I-I’m fine.” Peter gagged, finally managing to get oxygen back to his lungs as his throat stopped spasming in alarm. He settled back into the cushions of the loveseat as far from Wade as he could get without making it obvious he was avoiding him, but the merc made no comment on the increased distance.

“You can wash it down with your martini.”

“I at least know what that is, and it’s definitely not gonna help.”

“Worth a try.”

Peter rolled his eyes and reached for it anyways, to give him something to do with his hands. The feeling of the alcohol sitting warm in his stomach at least helped to mask some of his other symptoms, which he was grateful for.

“So, I know they gave you the choice to stay in an actual house and not in some sleazy town more infested with bugs than Stark’s pubic hair.” Wade mused as he took shockingly large drinks of his own martini. “Why’d you pick here?”

“They don’t know my face or name or...anything else about me. At least, everyone but Mr Stark.” Peter stared into the glass, briefly considering telling Wade the predicament he was in. Wade was kind, and he was the one who was least likely to judge him for being an omega, or try to get him to drop the mission. But he was also a blabbermouth, and Peter wasn’t sure he wouldn’t sell his secret out for street cred with the rest of the team. “Plus, I don’t think I’d ever have the guts to do this if I was stuck in a house with Natasha. She’d have me running laps for hours or Clint would make me clean his bows or something.”

“While they got it on in the other room?”

“Ew.” Peter reeled automatically, then really considered it and looked incredulously at Wade. “You don’t think they’re…?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Wade laughed.

“I didn’t think about it.” Peter paused, then repeated, “Ew.”

---

An hour later, Wade had spent way too much of their money shoveling shots down Peter’s throat, and the both of them had successfully gotten pretty tipsy.

The later it got, the louder the other patrons grew, which meant Peter and Wade could giggle stupidly over cheesy jokes while remaining inconspicuous among the public eye. Peter could feel a slight tingle on the surface of his skin, which meant he’d have to head back to the hotel soon, but he was admittedly having too much fun to be overly-cautious. He hadn’t let go and relaxed like this in over a year, and sitting so close to Wade just felt good in ways he couldn’t really explain.

And of course, as soon as the universe had handed him one good moment, it was ready to give him two bad ones.

The chorus of Take on Me started to play from Peter’s pocket, his burner ringtone, and he reached clumsy fingers to dig for the device.

“A-ha! Gotta say, I love your choices.” Wade drawled, strewn out over the loveseat.

Peter managed to fumble the cheap flip-phone open, and the initials TS made his heart stop in his chest. “M-Mr. Stark.”

Panic punched into Peter’s gut, and his stomach gave an unbidden lurch. He gaped at the screen, feeling as if the phone call was his martini playing with his eyes. Yet, after a few gasps of air to steady his nerves, he determined it really was Mr Stark calling him.

“You gonna answer?” Wade was gazing down at the name over his shoulder, closer than Peter remembered, which only served to make him jump.

“I have to, I think.” Peter swallowed, hopping off the couch as his mind whirled. The heat symptoms were a bit worse now, amplified by the sudden panic. “Um, I’ll be back.”

He staggered to the entrance of the bar, past a few concerned onlookers that whispered incoherently- likely about the stress evident in his expression. Peter stepped out onto the lightly populated street, gulping down frozen air, before he finally clicked the green ‘answer’ button and pulled the phone to his ear.

“H-Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled stupidly into the air, trying to remember what he sounded like sober. “Um, what’s up?”

“Checking in. I feel like I was too short with you earlier. I know it can’t be easy to sit around in a gross hotel and being kept in the dark due to SHIELD clearance.”

“I’m okay!” Peter insisted in a forceful manner, biting his lip to keep from letting his mouth wander into a tangent as he often did when nervous. “I mean, I’m having a good time.” He stopped. “I mean, it’s not that bad.”

“Right.” Mr Stark responded with apprehension. “I just wanted to be sure. Surprisingly. I do have a shred of a conscience and know you weren’t entirely thrilled about this mission in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah but I’m like totally glad to help.”

“And it’s appreciated. ”

Peter didn’t have a good response, so he fell silent for God-knows-how-long, unable to actually tell due to the alcohol in his system.

“ Are you drunk right now?”

The accusation made the vodka that had settled in his stomach turn ice-cold.

Peter wracked his brain for an answer, though it was clear Mr. Stark had already made up his mind.

He disappeared from the line for a moment, cursing with a hostile tone under his breath, before returning with an aggressive hmph of breath. “ You’ve got to be shitting me. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I-I, I was just-”

“ You weren’t thinking is the simple answer. You never do. You know this isn’t just about you, or the Avengers, or proving to SHIELD I wasn’t completely insane for thinking a 20 year old was competent enough to work with us. This is about proving to me you weren't the child you were when I met you. But it looks like I was wrong. ”

Peter felt a stab of pain in his gut, and tears sprung to his eyes. Oh god, he couldn’t start crying now, standing outside of a bar and looking pathetically out of place. Mr Stark’s words hurt, and they made him feel sick to his stomach. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was break his trust or disappoint him.

“ I’m sorry, Mr Stark.”

“Sorry’s aren’t good enough. You’re too smart for this, Peter. I’m disappointed.”

Peter felt another sharp strike in his abdomen, and he faltered. It was different. This wasn’t just guilt wringing his insides. Below the top layer of his skin, he could feel a slight fever beginning. Shit.

“ I’m coming to get you.”

“ No!” Peter blurted out, berating himself silently a moment later. “I-I mean I’m...I’m not at the hotel right now. Wade and I went out to a bar in town and he’s in the bathroom right now. Plus I-I still gotta pack.”

Mr Stark made an upset noise. “ Fine. I’m driving over when the sun comes up in the morning, then. Don’t do anything else to fuck up any worse, got it? ”

“Yes, sir.” Peter swallowed, curling his fingers tighter around the phone. The cramps were hitting hard. His entire stomach felt like it was being flooded with fire. “I’m really sorry.”

“ Drink water and try to eat something before you go to bed. The last thing we need is to explain a hangover to Coulson in the morning .” Mr Stark paused with a sigh, clearly distressed. “ I know you’re young. I know you wanna do things kids your age should be doing. But you can’t be both a kid and an Avenger. You have to pick one or the other. I’ll call you when I’m almost there.”

The phone call ended as Peter’s breath hitched, and he leaned back against the wall of the bar, clutching his stomach. His eyes burned and his body was giving clear warning signs of impending heat symptoms. They had to get back, before Peter threw up vodka and everything he’d eaten for 2 days in Shcherbinka, or worse- broke down into tears.

He just had to find-

“Ooooooh shit. Did I get you in trouble?”

Peter started as he stood straight, Wade watching him from the entrance of the bar.

Peter ran fingertips fast under his eyes but it seemed to be too late, the merc striding towards him with concern strewn across his features.

“Petey, hey, what’s up?” Wade asked in a softer voice, maintaining his distance but holding out a comforting hand. “Was he that mad? Fuck, baby boy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d find out.”

“Let’s head back.” Peter muttered, brushing his hand out of the way so he could head down the sidewalk. He could feel Wade walking behind him, but was grateful that he gave him his space.

------

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a pounding at the door.

In reality, it was likely just a normal-volumed knock, but the pressure in his head was growing exponentially, and coupled with his distraction, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. His grasp tightened around the syringe in his fingers, feeling the glass splintering slightly, but he finally released it onto the top of his TV stand and pulled himself to his feet. For reasons beyond his control he felt annoyed at being interrupted. Even if the person on the other side of the door didn’t know the suffering he was subjecting himself to at the moment, his shoulders were tense and he was ready to give them an earful about invading his space. It was close to midnight. Who felt the need to show up and bother him now? All he wanted was to crawl into bed and wind the covers tight around himself, so tight he would be unable to breathe- just to feel surrounded by warmth and darkness. Not answer the door to some late night housemaid or the receptionist trying to remind him he was checking out tomorrow.

He yanked the door open until it nearly slammed against the wall, ready to snap, when Wade’s face came into view. He stopped, swallowing back all the surprise rooted in his stomach, and managed a meek “what?”

“I forgot to give you back your wallet.” Wade said as he held out the pleather tri-fold, staring strangely at Peter. He knew he probably looked wild-eyed and angry, but he was barely keeping himself in control at this point. Everything felt uncomfortable in his body, as if his muscles couldn’t find a point in which they didn’t feel strained. “Petey? You look like shit. Is Iron Man being an Iron Bitch still bothering you?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Peter muttered and reached for his wallet. He tensed when Wade’s gloves wrapped around his lithe wrist, squeezing lightly. The pressure was enough to set his skin on fire, and he couldn’t bring himself to move away from the contact.

Alpha…

“Hey, hey, you’re shaking.” Wade’s voice was clearly concerned now, and Peter cursed his inability to drop things. He made another move for his wallet, but the other drew it further back. “Are you sick? Peter?”

“I’m fine.” Peter grunted, his eyes blearily focusing on the texture of Wade’s sleeve. This close to Wade his scent was intoxicating, stronger than it ever had been, and the smell of burnt pine and expired rain wafted up through his head. It made him dizzy, and electricity sparked over his arms and down into his stomach. His scent alone was enough to make him quiver.

Suddenly, his pants felt too tight, and the realization of what Wade’s presence was doing to him had his dreary vision snapping back into focus. But it was too late, because the taller man was already steering him back into the room towards the bed.

“Do you need anything? I can run to the store, or call Daddy Stark or something. I don’t want you dropping dead on me, baby boy.” Wade’s mouth was so close behind his head, Peter imagined he could feel his hot breath on his ear and neck. Every step they took towards the bed was another cramp knotting in his stomach, and he wanted to scream from the pressure. Suppressants were supposed to eliminate the symptoms of heat, not just stop it in its wake. But he’d also never been on them for 2 days before, so he wasn’t sure when their effectiveness started to falter. “Here, lay down. I’ll get you all snug and then I’ll grab anything you want.”

Alpha… smells good.

Peter’s body moved on its own, making the painful crawl into his covers, before he collapsed in the middle of the bed onto his back, dropping his head back in the pillows. The world spun a bit before his eyes finally settled on Wade, who was sitting on the edge of the mattress staring at him. He gazed down at his arms, his pulsing muscles begging to be released from the tight hoodie material, and trailed back up to his broad shoulders and neck. Everything about Wade screamed dominance and strength, and his omega side was begging him to reach out to be held. Still, Wade didn’t seem to be paying attention to him, his eyes cast lower down on the bed. Peter followed his gaze, trailing over the blankets and down to his hips, where the blankets had stopped.

His erection was standing tall in his jeans, making every effort to escape the confines of the uncomfortable fabric and seek out Wade’s attention. And Wade was staring directly at it.

His expression was unreadable, but Peter assumed he was completely freaked out as to why his friend had a clear hard-on after being touched by him, and he grabbed a pillow to shove down on his waist.

“Oh my god.” Peter whispered in mortification, his voice gravelly. He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat in his stomach rose to mirror on his cheeks, rolling onto his side just so Wade would stop gawking at him. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m just tired and you showed up and I can’t help it-...”

“Me?” Wade finally asked, his voice a pitch lower and focused. Peter felt the bed shift, and then a hand lightly settled onto his shoulder, as if he would break him if he put any weight on him. “Pumpkin, hey, it’s okay, look at me.”

Peter shook his head, refusing to face the humiliation as he buried his face further into the pillows. He wanted to scream and cry at the same time, and curse his biology for being so fucking inconvenient it was ruining everything about this weekend. Why couldn’t he just be a beta? Why an omega? Why did the world hate him so much?

Wade applied a bit more pressure onto his shoulder and forced him to return to laying on his back, his other hand moving to lightly rest on Peter’s abdomen. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” He murmured, his gloved fingertips rubbing light circles right on the spot there was the most tension in his stomach. “Can I help?”

“What?” Now Peter finally looked back up at him, red eyes widening drastically. The question sent another wave of warmth crashing through his pelvis, and he knew the swelling wasn’t about to go down any time soon.

Wade’s hand inched lower, grazing the waistband of his jeans, though his fingers didn’t dip inside, clearly waiting for full, and clear, permission. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you here alone like this.” He murmured, his voice sounding tighter. Peter swallowed back his jumpiness and looked down at the hand dancing over his hips, willing his body not to buck up needily for the attention it craved. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. But if you want me to make you cum, I will. Just say the word.”

I need it.

“Wade, I…” Peter didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have the strength to tell him no, to save himself from the humiliation of letting his friend get him off, but he also didn’t know if he wanted to tell him no. Maybe it was his heat still getting shoved back in his body, or the nights he’d spent jerking off to thoughts of Wade (only on occasion; he had said some pretty suggestive things in the past) but denying him felt like the wrong option.

“If you don’t want to see me you can keep your eyes shut and pretend it’s someone else. I won’t mind. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Peter knew that wasn’t true, that taking this step would result in a lot more confusion and tension filtering into their relationship, but the thought of Wade’s warm mouth swallowing him down his throat sent a shiver up his spine.

If there was anything he knew about Wade, it was that he had a lot of experience in that department.

Peter nodded numbly, draping one arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to face reality.

“I need to hear you say it, angel. I don’t want to cross any boundaries unless you’re sure you want this.” Wade added as his fingers tugged and undid his button, the zipper audibly being drug down.

“I want it.” Peter croaked, instantly feeling his temperature spike. “Please don’t make me say anything else.”

Peter couldn’t see Wade, but he could practically feel his smirk of satisfaction. As promised, Wade moved on the bed so that his weight was bridged over Peter’s legs and pulled his pants and boxers down without asking any more of him.

The cold air rushing over his dick almost made Peter moan in relief, but he bit his lip to keep the sounds at bay. In the darkness he could hear every movement Wade was making, from the rub of denim against itself to the creeks of the cheap bed springs underneath them. Wade’s mouth was absent, and the only real reminder he had that he was there was a hand pressing steady into his thigh, gripping bruisingly against the skin, while his other hand fondled with part of his own clothing. He almost wanted to ask if this was alright, reassure Wade he didn’t have to do this, but then, God , Wade’s face returned close to his pelvis with a hot breath brushing over the tip of his cock.

Peter almost came right then.

“Just try to relax,” Wade spoke lowly, each word sending a puff of breath over his sensitive flesh that had him twitching. “You smell delicious.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before an overwhelming warmth enveloped the head and continued down. Each inch Wade took into his mouth sent more and more stars flashing in Peter’s eyes, and his entire body went tense. Whatever self control he had before melted away, as his mouth hung open in utter awe at the sensations. He’d gotten head before, though he was in his heat, so he didn’t quite remember it. Now, however, when his nerves were extra sensitive from his symptoms falling off but he was otherwise mentally alert, he was choking on the pure bliss. Eventually he felt Wade’s nose press snug into his pubes, and he realized, with an embarrassed gulp, that his dick was pressed in the back of Wade’s throat.

Then the mercenary swallowed, and Peter’s voice shot out in utter ecstasy.

“G-God, Wade, p-please…” Peter didn’t know what he was begging for, possibly relief from the mind-boggling fever he felt twisting his gut, but Wade seemed to comply. His mouth retreated until his cock once again bobbed free, and Wade tongued precum dribbling from the slit. Peter picked his head up in reaction only to drop it back against the pillows, a groan echoing from his chest. Wade hadn’t been exaggerating when he said his scars were everywhere. His dick once again penetrating his mouth and brushing along the inside of his cheeks proved that. The texture had him crooning instantly.

Wade apparently decided that toying with Peter was more important than actually pleasing him, if his slow, firm pace was any indication. Everything about Wade normally was erratic and unruly, dangerously unpredictable, and yet now he demonstrated perfect control, unwilling to let the twitches or whines leaving Peter’s throat to deter him from his perfectly measured beats. His lips tightened and a slight suction drew more pressure to the surface of Peter’s groin.

There was a low grunt from Wade’s mouth, almost like garbled words attempting to be formed around the length, and Peter drew his arm away enough just to glance down at him. The scandalous sight that met him as his vision readjusted to the light had his heart leaping up into his throat, a throb echoing through his limbs and making his stomach churn. “What?” He panted, on the edge of going absolutely insane from his taunting.

Wade repeated his hum, the vibrations enough to make Peter jolt, but he maintained eye contact, growing a bit annoyed as all he wanted was to focus on chasing his orgasm. “I can’t hear you.”

Wade’s lips drew back, his tongue being the last to peel away from his cock, as he swallowed back the mixture of fluids that must have been gathering on his tongue. He looked rather flustered himself- from what Peter could see of his exposed nose and chin from under his mask. “I asked if you just showered.” He grinned, teeth flashing bright as ever into a crooked, but breathtaking, smile. “Whatever soap you use is really working for you. You smell just..” His nose pressed into the crook of his thigh, causing Peter to tremble from the tickling sensation. “Like dessert.”

Peter didn’t want to ask him to elaborate, knowing that whatever scent he thought he smelled was pheromones playing tricks on his brain, so he flopped back against the pillows instead. “That’s all you had to say?” He asked impatiently, toes burying into the cheap polyester sheets under him.

Wade’s laughter had Peter self consciously curling back into himself, but then his hands were tugging his thighs back open until he was in a vulnerable position, similar to earlier. “You’re wanting more?” He asked in a low, but teasing voice. Despite all his pride, Peter nodded weakly, throwing both arms back over his face to cover as much of it as he could without suffocating. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop playing. I’d rather hear you screaming my name, anyways.”

This time, when Wade took him back into his wet mouth, he didn’t give Peter any mercy or room to breathe.

Fingers dug hard into Peter’s hips, anchoring them down to the squeaking mattress, causing a frustrated huff to leave his lips. However, his complaints fell short when that wonderful pleasure blanketed his shaft again, warming his body from his toes to his chest. Wade’s throat opened to allow nearly every bob to force more of his dick to cram down into the tightness, not an inch left unattended to. Any rational thought floating in Peter’s head was obliterated, replaced by the image of red fire, of a tingling spreading through his fingertips and his feet, and the twisting of his stomach.

And by Wade, abusing his cock and forcing so much sensation onto Peter he thought he might cry.

It didn’t take long for Peter’s orgasm to build. He had already been on edge for days, and he didn’t doubt even a brush on his shoulder or a grab of his hip could have made him break down by now. But this was oh so much better than any feeling he could have jerked out with his hand. This was ecstasy, and he wasn’t just going to get off. He was going to cum, and he was going to cum hard.

Peter’s arms found Wade’s head on instinct, his fingers gripping tightly at his temples. Wade noticed, his tongue putting in twice the effort and one hand raising to squeeze lightly on Peter’s aching balls. He mouthed Wade’s name, though no sound was able to escape his lungs, his voice strangled in his tight airway. His muscles clenched, his hands held harder onto his skull, and a second later his back slammed again into the mattress before bullets of hot cum shot down Wade’s throat. Peter squeezed his eyes shut so hard he could only see crimson, the other man’s mouth greedily sucking down his semen without so much a sound of disgust or displeasure.

Wade didn’t release his overly sensitive dick from his mouth until he was sure his quivers had stopped, and he took his sweet time doing so. When he finally released him, his grip disappearing from Peter’s hips, he realized how empty he felt, and his hands twitched with the need to reach out to Wade, to ask to be held by the alpha, but he suppressed every indecent desire and instead settled for opening his eyes.

Wade was redressed fully by the time he looked, and disappointment shot through Peter’s chest.

“Hopefully you feel better now, Spidey.” Wade hummed in clear amusement, adjusting his sleeves so they went back down to the joint of his wrists. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. If you need anything else, well, you know where I am. Feel free to crawl right in.”

Peter watched in silence, unable to fathom a proper reply or reaction now that his heat was finally withdrawing. Every step felt like a heavy weight on his chest, and he felt the need to say something, anything, even if it was to confess everything that he had been suffering through. He rationalized that was just the needy omega side of his brain, though, and some things were better left unsaid.

Peter tossed himself onto his side, his back facing towards the door, to try to get proper rest. The door squealed open behind him as Wade started to exit, and he swore he heard Wade pause in the doorway to take a breath.

But then the door shut lightly a second later and Peter was bathed in darkness. Alone, exhausted, and his mind struggling to make sense of everything that had just happened.

#omega peter parker #alpha wade wilson #spiderman #deadpool #omegaverse #marvel #my fic #abo #spideypool #mcu #peter is 20 #iron dad

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takadasaiko · 6 years ago

Text

Always Been You (A Tony fix-it fic)

Fantastic... apparently updating a tag caused tumblr to eat the entire chapter? Let’s try this again.

FFN II AO3

Summary: When Thanos follows the team through time, he inadvertently splinters off countless alternate timelines.

Part Three

She had finally found some quiet, if not some peace. Tony was resting, painkillers and injuries pulling him into a deep enough sleep that Bruce seemed convinced they wouldn't get any more answers from him that night. He had left along with several others. Peter and Happy were the only ones that had elected to stay, Strange promising that if anything went wrong he was just a portal away. Not that Pepper knew how to get ahold of him, but that didn't seem to be in question as he stepped through a swirl of gold and sparks to leave her staring.

That had been hours before. Now, with Morgan tucked into bed and Peter and Happy crashed out, Pepper had stepped outside to try to claim a few moments to process what was happening. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had been sitting on the step on their front porch, gaze fixed through a tree that had long since blurred into colours rather than shapes. Everything had gone still, leaving her floating in her own raging thoughts.

The sound of thrusters forced her to blink, clearing her vision as the War Machine suit eased down and the helmet unlocked to reveal a familiar face. Pepper stood. "I've been trying to reach you for hours!"

Rhodey stepped out of the suit, the deep bruises from the earlier battle against Thanos showing in full in the porch light. He looked exhausted. "Not the best cell service out there right now, but I got your message. Is it really him? How?"

Pepper cringed. Despite the bags under his eyes and the bruises littering his skin, he sounded hopeful, and why not? Tony had come back from so much. Three months as a prisoner in Afghanistan, nearly killed by the arc reactor keeping him alive, redirected a nuclear bomb into space on his shoulders, Killian, Ultron, the fight with Steve, and a month lost drifting in space trying to kill a Titan…. It was a lot. It was too much. Everyone had their limits and Pepper knew he'd reached his. It had cost him his life, and for all the amazing and terrifying things they had seen, not one of them had come back from the dead. Not really.

"Pepper?" Rhodey called softly.

"It's not him," she managed, reaching up to tub at tired eyes. "He's…. a version of Tony is how Bruce explained it. From another timeline." She hated watching his shoulders fall and feeling like she had somehow killed his hope.

"Then why is he here?"

She pursed her lips. "Apparently he lost everyone in his timeline. He told Steve he…. needed to see everyone."

"You and Morgan."

Pepper glanced over, the question never making it off her tongue as her husband's best friend offered the first smile she'd seen in what felt like forever. Maybe it was really just since the funeral. He shrugged. "I've known that man a lot of years, Pepper. He came back for you."

"He didn't come back. He came here," she all but snapped.

He tilted his head. "You said he lost everyone, right? So he fought Thanos just like we did. I know Bruce seemed to think we could split off alternate realities if we screwed with the timelines too badly. Maybe that's what happened."

"That doesn't make him our Tony."

"Doesn't make him not." Rhodey leaned against the railing.

A short, mirthless laugh escaped at that and Pepper took a heavy seat on the porch step and leaned forward so that her elbows were braced against her knees.

"You mind?" Rhodey asked, motioning to the empty space next to her and nodded. He took the seat. "What's got you so tied up?"

She swallowed hard. That was the question, wasn't it? It took a moment for her to pull her thoughts into something that she hoped would make some kind of sense. She opened her mouth, closed it, and repeated the motion again before squeezing her eyes closed, finding the core of her hesitation. "What if it's not him?" There was a long moment and she pulled in a trembling breath. "I want him to be, Rhodey, but what if I think he is, if I accept he is, and he's not? If I…." Betray him sounded dramatic, but the man she's married, the man she had loved had died. Did she want this man to be him at his core? Of course she wanted it, but she wasn't sure what was right.

Rhodey loosed a long breath next to her. "We've seen a lot of crazy shit."

"You think it's really him?"

"I haven't talked to him yet, but if there's anybody stubborn enough to beat both death and time, it's Tony Stark. Hell, he's beat death more times than I can count."

The smallest of smiles tugged at her lips and she leaned into the man next to her. She wasn't sure if he was right - hell, he wasn't sure he was right - but if she weren't careful his hope might catch. If she weren't careful, she would willingly let it catch.

Aunt May had left some time before, but he had decided to stay despite her hesitation. He couldn't leave, not with Mr Stark there and alive. Peter had taken up Captain America's post watching over the sleeping, injured man when the older man had left to go help with the cleanup mission. It had been hours since then, though, and no matter how determined he was to stay awake, Peter's body was making him fight for it.

Light flooded into the room and he jerked back from the edge of sleep, jolting upright in the wingback chair he had slumped down in. Brown eyes squinted towards the door and tried to adjust, but all he saw was the light. Then he looked down and saw little Morgan Stark sneaking in. Her own dark eyes latched onto him and she held her finger to her lips in a gesture that Peter had to assume she was mimicking from her father. He flashed her a grin and mirrored it, unfolding. "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he asked her in a hushed voice.

She scrunched her little nose up in thought. "Wanna see Daddy," she said and looked back to him. "Aren't you 'spose to be in bed?"

"Probably," the teen superhero murmured and glanced over to where Mr Stark was sleeping.

"What's that?" Morgan asked, pointing at the medical equipment by the bed, all of it reading steady.

"That's just to make sure he's okay."

"Sick?"

"Sorta," Peter said hesitantly. She was four, Pepper had told him. What do you tell a four-year-old when their dad was hurt? To be fair, though, she'd thought he was dead a few hours earlier. He hadbeen. Hurt was better than dead any day.

Morgan climbed up onto the bed without warning and Peter swallowed his protest, waiting to see if she'd wake him. A small part - a selfish part, he knew - kind of hoped she did. He had barely seen the older man since his return. A hop through a portal, an unexpected hug on the other side, and before he knew it Mr Stark was sacrificing his life so the rest of them could live.

And then he was gone. Just like that. Dead and gone, seemingly forever, but Peter had been too, he guessed. Snapped out of existence. It made sense if he was from an alternate timeline that he was basically their Mr Stark. All but that terrible ending. It made sense, he thought. He was definitely willing to believe it.

"Hey, Daddy?" Morgan called in a loud whisper, poking his cheek. "Daddy?"

A soft groan came from the injured man and Peter saw him shift, and it looked like he looked up at Morgan. "Hey you," her dad greeted roughly.

"You wanna juice pop? Make you feel better?"

A snort of laughter escaped Mr Stark and Peter saw him reach up, bopping a finger against his daughter's nose. "You know what makes me feel even better than a juice pop?"

"Huh?"

"You. C'mere," he prompted and she leaned down so that he could kiss her round little cheek, Morgan giggling all the way. "Love you three thousand."

"Hey! That's mine!" she protested, but didn't sound too put out.

"I know, but it's a good one. Can I borrow it? Only for you though."

"Only for me though," she echoed and laid down next to him, snuggling in like she had no intention of leaving.

Mr Stark shifted, pressing a kiss to her hair and Peter suddenly felt like he was intruding, but he had no idea how to slip out without calling attention to himself and making it even more awkward. He was weighing his options when he heard the older man clear his throat. "Hey, Pete?"

Okay. So much for going unnoticed. "Hi…. uh, I was just —"

Mr Stark reached out with the hand not tethered by the various machines and IVs - only the little girl who was already asleep nestled against him - and Peter moved over instantly. "You okay?"

He took the offered hand. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Are you —?"

"Thought I'd lost you again," his mentor murmured, squeezing Peter's hand, and it looked like the painkillers were already pulling him back into a drowsy sleep.

"You saved my ice. All of our lives." Peter swallowed hard, the weight of the emotions making it difficult to speak. "You found us again, Mr Stark. You came home."

He was already asleep though, Morgan snoring softly against her father and Peter felt a smile tug into place. He gave the hand in his one final squeeze before easing it down on the bed and starting for the door. There'd be time. He was home. He was okay. They were all going to be okay.

It was late. She and Rhodey had talked for a long while and then had sat in silence, letting it all sink in. Pepper had known she wouldn't be able to sleep, but at least she had been able to talk through everything that was whirling around her mind. She didn't have the answers, but at least she wasn't alone.

She offered Rhodey any space he could find to sleep, but they found Hapy still crashes out on the couch and Peter had taken up residence on a small sofa, long legs bent over the arm. They looked peaceful, or something close to it.

The plan has been to check on Morgan and then go rest her own eyes for at least a few minutes, but Pepper found her daughter's room empty. It didn't take a lot to put together where she had gone.

The guest bedroom was dark save the soft glow of the monitors. Pepper peaked into the room to see something she'd seen many times before: Morgan half draped over Tony, father and daughter sound asleep. Pepper chewed on her bottom lip as she watched them, both oblivious, and she could feel that desperate small hope setting in despite her best efforts. It was in the way that Morgan had tucked herself into the crook of his shoulder and the way he was half curled on his side, his face relaxed in sleep. She missed him. There was no question that she did miss him. The question was in if she would have to continue to.

Pepper drew in a shaky breath and wiped at the tears threatening. She'd talk to him in the morning and make her own judgement call. Know one knew Tony Stark like she did. She'd know, and she thought that might be what terrified her the most: the possibility of having to say goodbye all over again. Of giving up that hope that was starting to take hold.

Knowing was better, though. It had to be.

TBC

Notes: Well this is turning out longer than I meant for it to be... When I started it I promised myself I would only write a two, three parter at the absolute most, but here we are, and there's at least one more part to write. Ah well... That's what happens when I remember how much I've missed writing MCU fanfiction

#endgame fix it fic #endgame spoilers #tony stark #pepper potts #morgan stark #peter parker #james rhodes #pepperony #iron dad

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 6 years ago

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Spider-Geddon #4 Thoughts

Oh dear how quickly we can fall.

So the good news is Molina is back on art and Barberi’s art complimenting his work makes for a mostly smooth transition between the two.

Other good news, we FINALLY take advantage of getting to see these Spider-Heroes interact. We see PS4 Spidey react to seeing an advanced Miles Morales and to seeing versions of himself and MJ married, not to mention learning other Peters ask RYV Pete and MJ how they wound up together. We also get to have a Peter Parker react to the presence of a Norman Osborn.

It is simply put the best scene of the entire comic and maybe the event over all, definitely the main book.

Yes indeed it sure was a great...page.

One page. Out of five issues. The penultimate one in fact.

Sigh...other good stuff...

· Getting to see other people react with justifiable suspicion against Norman.

· Norman being a sneaky bastard.

· One or two funny lines, the crown jewel of which is Ben Reilly saying he’s never met a Norman Osborn who didn’t want to stab him in the back. Because of course...this is exactly what Norman did at the end of the Clone Saga

· Seeing and acknowledging Spider-Cop!!!!!!!!!!!!!

· Dinosaur Spider-Man exists!

· Dissing the Other as a Deus Ex Machina.

Now that last one is a contestable point because I dunno for sure if the Other would be regarded as a dues ex machina.

And part of that is that it depends upon whether we are referring to it in the context of Spider-Verse alone or it’s initial story.

To me it didn’t just show up at the end of Spider-Verse and kill Solus therefore it doesn’t meet the requirement, and it was already established the Other has the ability to wipe out Inheritors way back in the original Other storyline. But was that a dues ex machina unto itself? You tell me.

What’s interesting is if that line came from Slott or Gage, I’d suspect the latter at which point gloriously it’d be Gage throwing shade at Slott.

Now he should still be wary of what he throws around because when you look at this issue he lives in a glass house. A smaller glass house than Slott perhaps but a glass house nevertheless.

Now some of these my problems might be born of ignorance because I haven’t read or can’t remember every single Spider-Man/Marvel comic.

But...for just one problem among many with the issue...you telling me Norman Osborn fucking with the Web of Life and Destiny means that there is 0 ways to travel between dimensions?

Like...even Doctor Strange or Reed Richards can’t help you (and the Spiders can tell even though they’ve not even left the room)?????????

Regarding Ben Reilly he’s seemingly willing to kill. Now of course Clone Saga era Ben Reilly really wasn’t. Or at least his attitude was the same as Peter’s was on the topic. I dunno what happened between Clone Conspiracy and this comic so set me straight but it seems like he’s back to normal now and as such...wouldn’t his attitude be the same as back in the 1990s? Now last time I covered this series I mentioned how it doesn’t make sense for the Spiders to not kill the Inheritors so on one level this does make sense, but it’s nevertheless internally inconsistent because Peter and the other softer heroes aren’t willing to do that. So what’s Ben’s deal.

Again that’s all debatable as a criticism because I don’t have all the info.

But there are plenty of other problems the biggest being the thing at the heart of this whole event, poor timing.

I spoke before about the headfuck that was the tie-ins happening during or after issue #2 despite being released earlier and placed earlier in the reading list.

The same thing happens again because if you, like me, were reading Spider-Force guess what a massive plot point from that gets spoiled as Jessica Drew makes it back to Earth 616 with Solus’ crystal...and runs right into the Inheritors. Nice to know however the final issue plays out their overall mission was a total and utter failure. At least with Scarlet Spiders back in Spider-Verse it served a purpose.

There is another headfuck moment of dumb in that scene too as the Inheritors try and fail to feed off of Jessica Drew, failing because she’s radioactive.

Now she’s wearing her radiation suit and, if you’ve been reading Spider-Force (it helps because this issue barely tries to explain) you’ll know she’s just got back from a radioactive Earth. So one would think the Inheritors’ inability to feed off of her is due to her recent trip there right?

Wrong, it’s because her powers are connected to radiation apparently.

Now I’m no Jessica Drew expert so I consulted the marvel.wiki and am taking their word as gospel for the sake of this post. It reads as follows:

“When Jessica Drew was about a year old, her parents moved from England to a small cottage in the outskirts of Wundagore Mountainin Transia. Her father, Jonathan Drew, geneticist and research partner to the man who would later become the High Evolutionary, found large amounts of uranium in their property, which gave them the financial resources to build a research facility to keep working on their controversial studies of evolution, genetics and cell regeneration

In the course of the next three years, life was good, until little Jessica became ill, poisoned by her long-time exposure to the Uranium that was so prevalent in their land. Jonathan, being an expert on the regenerative and immunological properties of arachnids' blood, injected Jessica with an untested serum made with the blood of several uncommon species of spiders, in the hopes of stopping the tissue damage and immunizing the girl from the Uranium radiation in her blood. Then, he sealed her in a genetic accelerator created by Herbert Wyndham a.k.a. the High Evolutionary to speed the process, but it only seemed to work at a very slow rate. In stasis for decades, her aging greatly slowed, until the treatments finally finished in recent years.”

Can you spot any words or phrases in that remotely similar to ‘radiation blast’ as used in this issue? Let me know if you can because I can’t.

It’s not even like the radiation played a factor in actually granting her powers according to this. Whilst Spider-Man got his powers from a radioactive spider, for Spider Woman radiation was the disease the spider science was curing. The untested serum her Dad gave her is what gave her powers, the radiation had nothing to do with that. Basically unlike Peter, Jessica’s powers are not derived at all from radiation itself.

So yeah...Gage seems to have seriously contradicted Jessica Drew’s you know...origin story...

That would be bad enough but it gets worse.

For the sake of argument let us pretend that Gage’s ‘revised origin’ for Jessica was true. The implication of the comic is then that because of that the Inheritors can’t feed off of her life essence because radiation is poison to their kind.

Now let’s ignore for the moment that they somehow lived off of giant radioactive spiders for at least over a year, and how radiation is poisonous to most things so phrasing it that way is rather redundant (it’s like saying ‘Oh wait you are vulnerable to fire aren’t you!’). Instead let’s focus on this headscratcher. Jessica’s powers coming from radiation makes her inedible to the Inheritors...buuuuuuut...Peter Parker isn’t...nor are any of the other people who got powers from radioactive spider bites...

*head desk*

Were the editors drunk when they failed to catch that obvious inconsistency?

I mean Spider-Man literally has radioactive blood! That’s a line in the 1960s theme song!

How do you screw this up so badly?

It’s especially incompetent when the fact Jessica just walked out of a radioactive planet and is wearing a radiation suit could easily be used as an alternative explanation. Say she is at the moment contaminated with radiation but is herself not adversely affected by it thanks to her powers. This would actually be more in line with the original Morlun story because Morlun could feed off Spider-Man no problem up until he injected himself with radiation and became temporarily radioactive. So okay they can feed on the life force of totems with low levels of radiation in their blood but not when they are seriously cranking up the dial on a Geiger counter.

There are other inconsistencies though, albeit not as idiotic as that one.

The comic can’t quite decide whether or not Solus got killed last time because he battled the Other or if any sufficiently powerful sharp object could kill him. Doc Ock brings up Leopardon then Miles dismisses that option because Solus beat Leopardon in Spider-Verse an event Doc Ock knows about. So Doc Ock, who states he knows the wisdom of avoiding past mistakes, is suggesting they try the same thing that failed before a second time.

Now of course Otto is not mentally stable, oh no wait maybe he is because Gage paints him as in the right so often (and implies being in a new body fixed his insanity in a way later comic but that’s neither here nor there). It just doesn’t make sense on his part, nor does his dismissal of the Other as superstitious mumbo jumbo.

Ignoring how anyone in the Marvel Universe disregarding magic is fundamentally stupid, Doc Ock is fighting other dimensional totem vampires wrapped up with a cosmic web that enables travel between universes and is connected to a form of danger precognition for everyone associated with a spider.

Why the fuck would the idea of a specific cosmic entity who’s specifically able to kill Solus superstition from his POV, especially when he knows for a fact it did what an obviously more powerful giant robot couldn’t do?

Another minor inconsistency is the Otto implying on one page that he brought the Spiders to Earth-13 in order to analyze the Enigma Force and then locate it in Earth 616...but then on literally the next page Miles claims it was his idea.

Which is it? It’s somewhat important as it defines the power dynamics between the two would be leaders.

Speaking of the Enigma Force that’s another big problem.

In Spider-Verse the Enigma Force was essentially useless against the Solus because it’s pure life force and he feeds off of that. Ridiculously overpowered, overselling of the villain to cheaply build him up?

Most definitely.

But as a sequel to that story shouldn’t Spider-Geddon try to be consistent? Because suddenly we’re claiming that Solus didn’t actually eat the Enigma Force but simply...killed Captain Universe Spidey (????????????????) and the Enigma Force is still on Earth-13. And as mentioned above the plan is for them to analyse it on Earth-13 and hopefully then use that to track down the 616 Enigma Force.

My question upon hearing that plan was....so?

So they find the Enigma Force and/or the new Captain Universe. Then they either have someone bond with it or ask the new Cap for help.

And...what?

Then go punch the Inheritors?

They already know Captain Universe is a massive food source for the Inheritors. Yeah sure, in Spider-Verse Solus claims it’d be too much for any of his kids to handle but surely between all of them they could eat him?

Then again both Spider-Verse and Spider-Geddon have been hugely inconsistent with how the Inheritors feed. Not only did we get Verna draining any given person’s life force in Spider-Force #2 but I double checked the original Morlun story. He states clearly feasting off of Spider-Man alone would sustain him for about 100 years.

But between Spider-Verse and this story the Inheritors have all chowed down enough for like a millennia a piece then.*

Oy vey, yet another inconsistency I just realized from the previous issue is...weren’t they going to blow up the New U labs? SP/dr was ready to remotely detonate the charges and kill everyone in the process but then Leopardon intervened allowing everyone to escape...couldn’t they detonate the charges remote at that point? There is no reason the New U labs should still be standing.

One final inconsistency I’ll bring up is that Spider-Man PS4 claims that Miles is a good leader because he’s not lost anyone yet. I guess screw Spidey UK and Noir, but in fairness you could argue Miles wasn’t in charge at that point so they don’t count. What is more confusing is that on the very next page Osborn complains that the Inheritors numbers are growing as theirs are shrinking. Again which is it, are the Spiders losing or maintaining their numbers?????

Let’s move on from inconsistencies to a different variety of bad and dumb shit.

First of all Otto and Ben Reilly apparently hatched this whole other plan behind everyone’s backs making a bargain with the Inheritors.

When?

When could that possibly have happened?

I’m not even saying it’s not possible but it’s never explained it comes totally out of nowhere.

Otto didn’t even know Ben was around until last issue when he mounted his raid on New U and surprise attacked the Inheritors so if this plan was set n motion before that how and when could Ben have been integrated into it?????

Before issue #3 is actually the only time I can think of when Otto could’ve done this but it makes just so little sense. He didn’t know the Inheritors were having trouble with the New U tech (again, that seems unlikely given the tech Jennix was used to working with) before issue #3 to my recollection. So there was no reason for him to offer to help him understand that tech (and yes it’s clear Otto made the offer, the Inheritors didn’t make the first offer to him) and the Inheritors clearly attacked him and his group in issue #3. Meaning the offer must’ve been made during issue #3, between issues #3-4 or during issue #4 but there wouldn’t have been any time or any chance for Otto to get away and talk to the Inheritors.

I also don’t get what Ben Reilly has to do with any of this.

Finally, and most insultingly, is Gage continuing to wank off Otto.

Now even Miles is holding his hands up and saying Otto is superior, Otto is the smartest, Otto is the leader. On the one hand this slightly helps balance out Miles being framed as a better leader than Peter was in Spider-Verse (more Slott’s fault for Peter’s shitty characetrization) and no one else considered for leadership (like RYV Peter). On the other wasn’t this event supposed to serve Miles? Wasn’t it promoted somewhat like that?

Why are both this story and it’s predecessor so intent upon making Otto writer’s pet?

One final thing which is I guess more a problem for me is that this issue blew the promise last issue made regarding Norman.

It had the opportunity for some intrigue and Machiavellian shenanigans with Norman Osborn forming a secret third faction within the Spider Army. But then it amounted to him and Spiders-Man being kicked out of the group and wrecking the Web of Life & Destiny. When you consider how he was utterly not built up in the main book at all until the end of the last issue. Like he comes out of nowhere unless you read his debut but nothing conveyed to us that that was a must-read issue to get the main book.

Yeah so overall we crash back hard into the low quality of the prior issues of this series.

Oh well...just one more comic to go...of the main book. Still got another Spec issue, Spdier-Force issue, Ghost Spider issue and 2 Spider-Girls issues to go...sigh...

*Also pretty sure at one point in either story they ate Spider-Hulk. If Jessica Drew is inedible due to radiation how is Spider-Hulk edible?

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ty-talks-comics · 6 years ago

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Best of Marvel: Week of April 17th, 2019 - WEEK OF ZDARSKY!

Best of this Week: Spider-Man: Life Story #2 - The 70s - Chip Zdarsky, Mark Bagley, Andrew Hennessy, Frank D'Armata and Travis Lanham

War destroys everything, the men and women that fight in them and the relationships between those who are left behind.

This issue was a roller coaster ride, starting off very high and happy-ish and tumbling down the road that leads to Peter Parker’s inevitable destitution. It was emotional and refreshing to see the Marvel Universe evolve with time, seeing characters grow up and the world slowly build in a decent amount of time that allows for events to just happen without cramming.

Mark Bagley continues to amaze as, though his action art was better in the previous issue, with more dynamic scenes being shown, the character art was amazing in this issue. He takes his time with the scenes and is very attentive to detail. Though I HATE Reed’s goatee, it is still very distinct and comes off as something I could see Reed rocking in his mid 40s - 50s. Harry looks like a haggard young man, he’s gone through the ringer trying to keep Oscorp alive and the effects on his health show. Heck, even Peter’s face, after an argument with Mary Jane, where he doesn’t shave the next morning is so AMAZING to me.

Chip Zdarsky is killing it with his Spider-Man work and somehow even found a way to make a mini-Clone Saga happen without making things feel hokey and stupid. I hope this book gives him or other creators opportunities outside of “Marvel Presents” to do stories by the decade with characters. I want to know more of Captain America’s involvement in the Vietnam War, I want to see a dirtbag Iron Man profiting from the continuation of the war which ended in 1975 in our world, but has stretched into 1977 in theirs.

Spoilers Below, but I highly, HIGHLY recommend this book.

It’s been three years since the death of Flash Thompson who went to fight in the Vietnam War and things have gotten more intense on the battlefront with Captain America going rogue and saving lives on both sides and the entry of Giant Man on the side of Iron Man and the American Army. Public opinion is still divided with Reed Richards, sporting an awful goatee, taking the side of Captain America and Peter Parker stating that those with the power have a responsibility to help and before the argument can take a nasty turn, Otto Octavius, now reformed after a heart attack makes him reevaluate his life, steps in to calm both men.

Peter’s taken a job working with the two genius scientists as a Mechanical Engineer, he’s married the love of his life, Gwen Stacy and his life is going well, but he still can’t help but think that he could have done more in lieu of Flash’s death. After a conversation with his wife and Professor Miles Warren, about his opposing opinions to Dr. Richards, Pete prepares to go to a nightclub to catch up with Mary Jane and Harry Osborn. The latter of whom had recently met with his father in prison and learned some shocking news, causing him to get stoned at the club, leaving a drunk Mary Jane to chastise Peter for not using his powers to help Flash, revealing that she’s known he’s been Spider-Man for years now.

This scene may be one of the best in the issue as Bagley shows why his faces are some of the most expressive in comics, using a wide range to convey happiness and reassurance to bitter dejection and anger. Mary Jane in particular is stunningly beautiful and stands out as a definite representation of late 70s fashion and beauty.

Things only go further downhill as another argument with Reed causes Peter to lash out, alluding to Sue Storm having left Reed for Namor, resulting in him getting slapped and walking out, quitting the job. Hoping to get a new job working with Professor Warren, he heads towards the lab just as a new Black Goblin attacks the lab, revealing clone tubes that the Professor had been keeping secret that contained clones of Norman Osborn, Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy. In a rage, Black Goblin unmasks himself and Peter, yelling about how Norman only ever cared for Peter and how Peter ruined his life.

In the end, it’s all too much for Harry as he destroys the tubes, killing “Gwen” and “Norman”, but leaving “Peter” alive. Warren, hysterical after his Gwen is killed, reveals that Peter’s Gwen was really a clone and the real Gwen was the one that died in the explosion, shocking everyone. Harry runs off and not too long after, Clone Gwen and Clone Pete get new identities and a new chance at life while real Peter is left alone, his life in shambles. No friends, no job, nothing, except for Mary Jane’s shoulder to cry on.

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

You know your life as a superhero is screwed up when The Punisher thinks you’ve turned to his side.

Runner Up: Daredevil #4 (Legacy #616) - Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Sunny Gho and Clayton Cowles

Following his manhandling at the hands of Detective Cole North, an injured Daredevil is rescued by Frank Castle and whisked away to one of his secret hideouts. What follows is one of the most cathartic tear downs between two diametrically opposed heroes that I have read in a while.

Frank Castle is a broken man. He’s a Marine who witnessed the worst of war only to come home and see the worst of man as his family was gunned down, turning him into the murderous psychopath we know him to be. Matt Murdock is a guilty Catholic who has so much sin weighing on his heart that his only way to atone is by seeing the good in people and doing what he believes to be good, never killing any criminal he comes across.

Frank and Matt have fought each other or worked together for decades, always crossing paths that lead to the moral quandary of whether it’s wrong to kill or better to eliminate a problem altogether, but with Daredevil possibly having taken the life of a petty criminal, Frank sees this as Daredevil taking a step into the light.

Zdarsky does a great job at crafting his own Frank Castle/Daredevil dynamic, with Frank acting more judgemental of Daredevil than normal and it is perfect. He calls Daredevil a phony for portraying himself as a good guy all while breaking the law and criminals with glee on his face as he fights. Frank believes he’s always seen Daredevil for what he is, but that DD himself won’t give up the act and Matt only gets progressively more pissed off. Things reach a head after Frank kills a criminal that Matt coaxed him to let go of after he picks up a gun and tries to kill them. Matt breaks free of the restraints he was bound to and leaps at Frank in anger.

Checchetto really struts his stuff with the art this issue and shows improvement from the last time he drew these characters back when Greg Rucka was writing Punisher. The first fight has a lot of weight to it as strikes are made and things are thrown around in close, tight shots. The physicality of both Frank and Daredevil is ratcheted up to 11 as both men look to be in their peak forms, especially when Daredevil uses two pistols akimbo, showing Frank the damage that he could do if he decided to go Frank’s route and use guns. Daredevil would be near unstoppable and it shows. This might some of Checchetto’s best panel to panel work that I have ever seen as even the flat ones feel dynamic as hell.

In the end, Daredevil defeats Frank who muses at the thought of a Punishing Daredevil, a being much more effective than he ever could be. Matt knocks him out and saves him from the fire that their fight caused, telling us that becoming Frank is his greatest fear and that that’s what’s been preventing him from admitting to himself that he killed that criminal and that while he couldn’t bring him back to life, he could at least make things right by continuing his mission.

This is the Daredevil I love and seeing him finally let it out and admit that he’s not perfect and he will make mistakes, even grave ones is a breath of fresh air. I also loved that Frank wasn’t the powerhouse/unstoppable monster that he is pretty much everywhere else. (see The Punisher, War of the Realms: Punisher) Though, I do love these representations, it is good to see him low for a bit.

Zdarsky truly does it again, high recommend!

#comics #marvel #marvel comics #spiderman #peter parker #gwen stacy #miles warren #harry osborn #mary jane watson #the 70s #chip zdarsky #mark bagley #daredevil #punisher #matt murdock #frank castle #marco checchetto #sunny gho

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petepaintswarhammer · 6 years ago

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Back to the Commonwealth...

So in last night’s explorations of the Commonwealth Wastelands…

I forgot to update on here after the last play session where I stumbled across a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin fighting off waves of Feral Ghouls and came to his aide. My characters thinking being that this guy has massive armour and I want to be on his side rather than against him. I ran a few errands for him and his team before going on a joint op to the Arc-Jet facility where I ran into synths for the first time. I am not a fan of those creepy buggers! We killed so many and I looted so many that I quickly became over burdened with guns and junk and then found out that Dogmeat also has an encumbrance limit… I dropped as little as I could and then headed back to Sanctuary. I scrapped and upgraded as many guns as I could. I have a sweet 10mm now called Delilah, a decent hunting rifle that I’m a better shot with than VATS would lead me to believe and a double barrel shotgun called Rachel that are my three main guns, I need to find a back-up big gun that I can pull out against things like Super Mutants or the Stunted Yao Gui that I’ve started to run into… I’d have thought a 80+ damage shotgun would be enough but nope… Ammo though seems to be a real thing in this game! I need to drop some more points into the ammo scavenging perk as I’m constantly running short for my main guns!

It seems that I finished my last run by returning to the Brotherhood at the Cambridge and joining up with them.

Anyway, last night. I load up my last save and I’m in the Cambridge Police Station. I head out towards Graygarden where I met Supervisor White. I don’t know if this is a thing in the game that impacts NPC interactions but my character always makes sure they holsters their weapon when they are meeting new people. I don’t tend to shoot first unless they are obviously hostile towards me. After chatting to Supervisor White I headed to the Weston Water treatment plant and tidy that up and get that up and running again. I ran into a Legendary Super Mutant outside and a Legendary Mirelurk on the inside. Also I got my hands on my first Rocket Launcher… I did not know they had those in this game! I couldn’t wait to see what mods I could add to that back at Sanctuary! I report back to Graygarden and that’s the third settlement that has signed up with me and my crew. So I report back to Preston in Sanctuary and take up the mission to retake the Castle… Where’s that on the map…? Wow that’s a really long way away from anywhere I’ve explored so far… Ah well, I’ll do some wandering and get over there eventually… To that end I guess I should actually head to Diamond City finally. I find some more settlers who ask me to take out some raiders and stumble across Vault 81. But I was determined to get to Diamond City so I passed them by for now and I’ll return later. Shortly after finding Vault 81 I finally start to approach Boston…

It turns out, in Fallout 4 at least, I do not like Boston or the approach to Diamond City… After all that time in the wide open plains of the Commonwealth the buildings and alleys were too much. I felt claustrophobic and paranoid, what was I going to run into around the next corner. Enemies were getting tougher and my guns seemed to be getting less effective. I somehow ended up inside Parkview Apartment block found it to be filled with raiders and supermutants who were fighting each other and me. I eventually made it to the roof where there were 6 super mutants, a gun turret and a legendary super mutant… I am low on ammo at this point… A few well-placed frag grenades and some sweet head shots, not to mention a couple of deaths and reloads, saw me through that encounter. I dropped back to street level, made a bee line for Diamond City, met Piper found Nick Valentines agency and had a quick wander around. I got lost and a bit overwhelmed, I don’t like Diamond City… I like the outdoors and the wilds… Accepting the quest to track down Nick levelled me up to lv14. I dropped a perk point in strength so that I could carry more junk and/or a bigger gun. Hit save and logged off for the night. I’ll head off to find Nick eventually but I’m going to explore the wilds around Diamond City for a bit. Maybe work my way over towards the castle. I might drop some time into tracking down some more bobble heads but I’m loath to start using a map, preferring instead to just wander around and find things for myself.

Any recommendations for must have go to guns for taking down Super Mutants and the bigger nasties in the wilds? Oh and I also don’t like what this game has done to power armour. I never use the suits I’ve found. It’s the old problem of saving a powerful item for that one time you’ll really need it…

I’ll update you on the Lone Survivors journey next time I get into the game.

Pete

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blooblooded · 6 years ago

Text

BG story part 2

Yes this sucks. Last 30 pages, the first half was definitely better. Cynthia is good for like 3 lines at the end though.

I wondered why I was so fixated on BG trying to make excuses for Lady even though he knows exactly what she does. Then I figured it out lol.

BG vs Empathy

Fucked up events were now snowballing. Destructive blood magic groups were becoming more organized. Terrorists were all over the place. The creatures that Dot was related to teemed beneath the Colony in the sewers and Lower levels. Social unrest grew as factions like the Prospases, Voorsts, and Agapamas gained more power and control. It seemed like some new awful thing happened in the Colony every day, and there weren't enough secret police agents to take care of them.

Up until that point, the unrest only happened outside of the secret police.

One event put an end to that. And of course it did. The individual at the center brought nothing but chaos and unrest in life, why would he be anything different in death?

He and Lady relaxed on the couch of the common room on their floor. Some kind of commotion had been going on earlier in the day, but for once they weren't a part of it. It felt good just to chill. So many agents had been killed recently that everyone was overworked. There was no better remedy for stress than laying around and doing nothing.

Lady was falling asleep. She curled up on the couch with her head resting on one of BG's legs. From time to time she would drift off and BG would feel stabs of neural pain until he shook her awake again. It wasn't her fault. She was just so exhausted. He liked to have her close to him like that because he felt like he could keep a better eye on her. With every day that passed he could feel her drifting farther away from him and closer to whatever black hole had opened up inside of her on B-Day.

He tried to keep her awake. "Hey. Want to hear a joke about a piece of paper?"

"Hm?"

"Never mind…it's tear-able."

"Ugh." She yawned and stretched her long thin legs. She was wearing BG's clothes and was practically swimming in them. What was with the squad and stealing his clothes? At least he never had to worry about Bizo, since she burned right through anything that wasn't made specifically for her. While Echo liked to wear other people's' clothes out of comfort and familiarity, BG was almost positive that Lady did so because her brain was so rotted she had forgotten who owned what. "You're very very bad at jokes. You're not funny."

BG scratched Lady's head. She had just shaved it again and the black stubble was soft. "I'm funnier than you are."

"I don't really need to be funny, do I." She exhaled heavily and closed her eyes. BG tapped her on the shoulder to keep her from falling asleep. "Quit poking me, I'm awake! I'm just bored! Where is everyone?"

Boredom and Lady were a dangerous combination. BG heard someone scuttling past the common room in the hallway and he whistled to get their attention so that Lady could have someone else to entertain her. When the person didn't stop, he teleported out into the hall so that he could stop them. BG was also deathly bored. He had not interacted with anyone but Lady since breakfast; Echo and Bizo were out on a mission together.

The person who was scuttling past was one of the worst agents to teleport in front of, on account of her jumpiness and violent temper. However, when BG suddenly appeared in front of Creedo, she barely flinched. Creedo was a tiny woman with narrow eyes and patches of discoloration across her black skin. Always yelling. Always fighting. As a telekinetic, she often levitated several inches off the ground in order to appear more threatening than she really was. Whenever she and Smiles had their spats she always levitated at eye level with him before attacking. At that moment however, Creedo was still and quiet. She regarded BG blankly, with her mouth slightly open as if she was in shock.

"Uh," said BG, staring down at Creedo. "You good?"

"What?" said Creedo, as if seeing him for the first time. She had patches of angry looking blisters on her dominant hand, the one that she used to direct her abilities.

"Are you ok?" asked BG. For some reason he felt anxious. He gestured at her hand.

Creedo touched the blisters and then winced. She swallowed. "Oh. I'm on my way to the Infirmary. It's not that bad. I just--I had to-- I don't know."

Behind her, Lady crept out of the common room doorway. She tiptoed when she walked, like she always did. Luckily, Creedo did not turn around, because Lady was not a pleasant sight to behold. With clothes hanging off of her bony frame, green shadows blooming beneath her eyes, and skin that had almost gone white, she looked more dead than alive. She cocked her head to one side, watching Creedo.

Something was wrong. Creedo wasn't talking. It was abnormal. BG's heart beat faster.

"Uh," said the little telekinetic at last. She licked her lips. She cradled her injured hand. "Have you heard anything?"

"About what?"

Then, Lady's terrible eyes went very large and black. She stood up straight, suddenly filled with strange energy. "About Smiles," she said in her high-pitched voice. Creedo startled when hearing it and turned around, but did not react violently like she normally would. Instead she drew back half a step and watched Lady dumbly. "What do you know about Smiles?"

Creedo took another half step back. "I don't know anything," she said. She turned to look at BG again, since he was the one she interacted with the most, but for good reason kept glancing back at Lady. "I don't feel too good, I mean if he-- I don't know. People are saying he got Retired this morning. I had to take Pete to solitary before she-- before she realized what was happening. She knew though." She took a deep breath that should have been calming but it sounded like she was about to hyperventilate. "I don't think I ever seen her cry before. It's got to be real."

Time seemed to stop.

It was impossible. His nemesis, dead? Smiles, the guy who had been in the organization forever? No, no, no, no.

"Ha!" said Lady, loudly.

BG shook his head. It wasn't happening. They would never Retire Smiles. If Smiles was gone that meant anyone could be gone. They couldn't just get rid of a squad leader like that without setting up the next steps for his squad. That would be like-- well, it would be like getting rid of him and leaving his squad to fall apart. It was cruelty. It was impossible.

He was only vaguely aware of how fast his heart was beating and how dizzy he felt. His mouth was completely dry and when he swallowed he just became more parched. Did Creedo feel the same way? She looked lost. Of course she did. She was 27, almost as old as Smiles. It was only a matter of time.

He needed proof.

"I have to go," BG mumbled. He inhaled and teleported away, leaving the girls to do whatever it was they did when he wasn't around. He re-appeared outside of Smiles' dorm room. For a second, everything seemed normal. The door was open like it always was. There were scuff marks on the floor outside from Smiles stomping around in his precious boots. It was easy to imagine that everything was like it was before and that BG would bust in to find Smiles ready to bubble him. Except it was too quiet. The only sounds from inside was a woman's low talking.

He paused for a long time outside that door. He wondered if he would be happy if it was true. If it was something to be happy about then why did he feel sick inside?

BG walked into Smiles' dorm without knocking. And why should he? If Smiles was truly Retired and if Pete was in solitary, then what did he have to worry about? He could do whatever he wanted to Smiles' room and Smiles' things and Smiles' team without facing any repercussions. Thinking about that did not make him happy either and he knew it meant that there was something wrong with him. He'd known he was going soft for a while now. The feelings in his gut only confirmed it.

Inside the dorm, it was just as Creedo said; devoid of A-Class agents. Nickels and Johnny were sitting on one of the lower bunks, the bunk that BG knew was Smiles's. They did not notice BG come into the room. He watched them like some kind of voyeur of grief. Nickels talked quietly and rapidly, pausing every now and then to sniffle and wipe her nose with the back of her hand. Johnny sat cross-legged and perfectly still without making a peep.

“We’re OK,” Nickels was saying. “We knew this was gonna happen one day, right? He always told us how to survive this. I’m OK and Pete’s OK and you’re OK too.”

BG cleared his throat. Nickels whirled around to face him and jumped out of Smiles’s bunk to stand defensively. BG always thought that Nickels was pretty. She was soft and fat and had a round, expressive face. Somehow she remained bright and had avoided the haggard, exhausted look most psychics developed from overwork. Now however, she was not pretty. Her skin was red and blotchy; hey eyelids were swollen from what he assumed was crying.

“Get out of here,” said Nickels harshly. “Out.” She pointed at the door. As a B-Class psychic, it was abnormal for her to be giving him orders like that.

BG didn’t move. All he could do was look at her and know that what Creedo said about Smiles getting Retired was true. His heart had not stopped beating fast and he didn’t know why. “I, uh, heard that something happened. To Smiles.”

Nickels clenched her hands into fists. It was disturbing that she favored physical fighting over her psychic abilities. That was all Smiles’ doing: he didn’t like psychics. Every time BG ever saw the guy training with Nickels, he was forcing her to fight him physically. As powerful as Lady was, if she had to face Nickels without the benefit of her abilities, Nickels would snap her in half like a glowstick. Hell, Nickels could probably beat him in a fight if it came down to it. She was scary.

He didn’t know why he said what he did next. The only explanation he had was that he was getting weak and soft. He cared about people who hated him because his brain was trying to get him killed. After everything he had been through lately, it was impossible to exist with the same casual cruelty that some of the other agents did. Some of the things he saw Lady doing lately disgusted him and he knew he didn’t want to be like her, as much as he loved her. He didn’t want to hurt people who were weaker than him. He didn’t want people to get Retired. All he ever thought about now was how Echo had told him how much they hated this place and wanted to leave before it was too late. At this point in his life, BG was starting to feel the same way.

Looking at Nickels in her state of grief was terrible when he knew what she really was like. He felt bad for her and didn’t know what to do. “Are you OK?”

It looked like she wanted to attack him. She brought her fists up in front of her chest, realized what she was doing, and put them down again. “No!” she said, loud enough for anyone in the rooms next door to hear. “Would you be OK if you were me? Get the fuck out of here!”

Over on Smiles's bunk, Johnny looked over at BG like he was just recognizing that he had come in the room. He wasn't moving or reacting; usually he was all over the place and friendly to a degree that provoked irritation. His eyes were so wide that the whites showed all the way around. Apart from that, his expression was completely flat. He had his arms crossed tight across his chest like he was hugging himself for comfort.

After the time that Johnny flipped out and bit him, BG had maintained his distance. He watched Johnny cautiously, since something like Smiles getting shot in the head could easily precipitate an episode. But judging from his movement and his expression, he wasn't all there.

"What's wrong with him? Are you doing that to him?" BG asked Nickels. It's what he would have done if he was her.

Nickels turned red. She moved her chunky body so that she blocked BG's line of vision to Johnny. "You think I'm like Lady? You think I just fuck with people?" she asked savagely. The anger and grief inside of her was not being contained properly and it showed in her wet black eyes. She roughly wiped at her face with her sleeve. "Smiles told me not to get in peoples' heads without asking, especially not people I care about."

"Oh." Smiles and his whole asking for permission thing. Recently BG had considered bringing psychic consent up with Lady-- at least as it applied to Echo and Bizo. It would go completely over her head and she would end up ignoring him. What was the point.

It made him feel like he was not as good as fucking Smiles.

"Did you need something?" asked Nickels from behind clenched teeth. She sniffed and tried to turn it into something tough. "Are you gonna leave us alone anytime soon?"

"I--I wanted to see if you were OK," he said helplessly. He missed the days when his conscience was quiet. "I kind of try to do that now, you know."

Nickels turned away from him and stomped back to Smiles's bunk. What used to be Smiles's bunk. She sat down and got as close as she could to Johnny without touching him. "What a saint," she said, and sniffled again. "You know what's going to happen to us with Smiles fucking dead and Pete in perma-timeout? Everyone hates us because of him and now he's gone." She pried Johnny's arms down from the hug he was giving himself and forced his hands down into his lap. The physical contact did not jar him from his unsettling trance. When she let go of his hands, he put his arms around himself again and did not move. Nickels slumped her shoulders. It was clear that she was doing her best not to cry.

The two of them made a seriously sad picture together. BG could not stop feeling anxious. Was this even real? It was like something playing out in front of him on a screen. Any moment now Smiles was going to pop in and kick his ass.

It was real. Creedo knew it was real and knew it was going to happen to her one day. And BG? Well, Silas assured him and assured him that he was special. She revealed that sometimes she allowed the agents she thought were special to re-enter society as civilians. They didn't get Retired, not ever. They were able to live out their lives and have families and be normal and shit. Doc was one of the special ones, she had said. The first day she met him she had known that she could never kill him. She said that she felt the same thing about BG.

The thing was, that Doc might have been out of the agency, but he wasn't truly Free. Why did he come back and work in the Infirmary 3 days a week? Was that it for him, forever?

BG could not trust Silas anymore and it killed him. Not after how cold she had been about Echo.

“I want to help,” he said. He wondered if he was overstepping boundaries. “I’ve been thinking about how all of us need to start sticking together.”

Nickels didn’t answer him. BG wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. Would he be able to keep her from being forced to work Upstairs and torture people in the same way Smiles had? Probably not. Would he be able to protect Johnny from his own choices and toxic desires? Another no. Would be be able to advocate for Pete? He did not even know where he would start.

"Will you just get out of here and leave us alone?" Nickels said at last. She still did not look at him. "We just need to be alone."

"Ok," he said. "I'm sorry about what happened." He left. What else was there to do?

Smiles was dead.

Smiles was dead. They'd roll his body into an incinerator and that would be the end of that. Maybe they'd take Pete out of Solitary if she behaved, maybe they wouldn't. It all depended on whether or not her value to the organization outweighed the possibility that she would try to burn it to the ground. Nickels would get treated like a real psychic without Smiles to protect her all the time. They'd assign her work Upstairs and force her to hurt people and eventually her brain would turn to mush. Johnny no longer had Smiles to reign in his behavior; he was going to cross a line and then he would get Retired as well. It was the end for Smiles' squad and all it had taken was the death of one person.

Was that what would happen when he was no longer there for his squad?

Intermission II

Every night he had dreams that his left arm began to operate outside of his control and in those dreams it squeezed the life out of him.

BG vs The Worst Thing that Ever Happened to Him

The day that BG's life went down a path he could not turn away from was more dreamlike than any of his dreams. It was more nightmare like than any of his nightmares.

It was only a few months after Smiles was Retired. He could never have seen it coming.

Bizo, Dot, and himself all had been exercising in a rec-room for several hours that morning. It was something nice they did together. BG sometimes felt like he neglected Bizo. He was impossibly close to Lady because of what they went through together, and Echo was his best friend so there was no competing with them. Every week he tried to put a little extra time into his relationship with Bizo because of this. She needed to know how important she was to him and how valuable she was to the squad. She spent so much time by herself already.

Spending time with Bizo meant spending time with Dot. The two came as a pair. Dot was an ugly little creature but since the time Bizo found her, her intelligence had increased exponentially. Even though she was a sentient hairy ball of black slime that was usually only about as big as a cat, Dot called herself a girl. Most of the time she had 12 legs, dozens of eyes, and mouths all over her body. Her prickly black shed all over the place and was hard to explain. She could change her size; sometimes she was small enough to fit into a boot and other times she was large enough to cover Zoey like a blanket of pudding. Dot could talk a little bit, but mostly she mimicked Bizo's breathy snorting laughter.

One of the primary jobs secret police agents had was to hunt down and exterminate the creatures like Dot that infested the Colony. Only people with abilities could see them, but they latched onto civilians and brought misery into their lives. It was strange that Dot was so different. She had latched onto Bizo, but the relationship between the two of them was like a friendship. For some reason, Dot was intelligent, friendly, and not interested in hurting humans. For that reason, BG and his squad protected her like she was an important secret.

Protected by the closed doors of the rec-room, Bizo was able to scoop Dot up in her arms and hold her like a baby. She had her greasy brown hair tied up in a pony-tail to keep it out of her face (BG had told her time and time again that shaving her head and following hygiene regulations would make her life easier but she just would not listen.) Bizo's ugliness was charming. She had a dumpy body and tan oily skin covered in freckles; these qualities made her seem froglike. BG and Bizo used the open space of the rec-room to goof off in.

"Wicker was acting weird today," said Zoey, referring to one of the Elite psychics. She talked about everyone as if they were all her friends, even though 99% of the secret police avoided her like the plague because of her behavior and the nature of her abilities. Nobody could touch her physically without risking chemical burns; it was one of the reason she loved to hold Dot so much. "He looked funny at breakfast, like they fried him or something."

This wasn't a huge surprise to BG, since Wicker had parts of his brain cut out and only ever interacted with other psychics. That was an agency recipe for creating someone with all the rebellion potential of a boiled shoe. He nodded anyway as he sat on the floor doing butterfly stretches to keep himself limber. It was important to him to encourage Bizo when she talked, no matter how dumb it seemed.

"He had glue stuck on him."

"Lady has glue stuck to her all the time." It was from where they stuck the electrodes to their temples when psychics had to monitor their brain patterns during high intensity work. Lady complained about it constantly because it made her delicate skin break out.

"I guess. I still think we should do something nice for him because it looked like he felt bad."

This was what was wrong with Bizo: being trapped in Isolation for 6 years had stunted her so badly that talking to her was like talking to a 9 year old when in reality she was Creedo's age. She was nice. She was thoughtful. She didn't like hurting people, even when they had hurt her.

This was what was wrong with BG: he was starting to think she was the only sane one in the agency and he wished that he was more like her.

Dot crawled up Zoey's chubby arm and nestled beneath her chin. "Felt bad!" she said, in a voice that was scratchy and small. "He felt bad." Bizo tickled her and she changed her shape, expanding with happiness.

Someone knocked on the rec-room door and all three of them jumped in surprise. Dot shrank herself and slithered into Bizo's clothing like an eel. "We still have 90 minutes in here," BG shouted crossly. Probably a dumb C-Class rookie who didn't understand the rules. You had to sign up for time slots and Elite agents got first pick.

The knock came again. Bizo laughed. BG sighed and got to his feet. He had barely done any stretching. Usually when he hung out with Bizo he was able to get several lengthy yoga flows in. He touched his toes, reached his arms up towards the ceiling, then went over and punched in his ID number to open the door.

Of all people to be standing there, it was Nickels. When he saw her, BG felt his stomach drop to his feet and he didn't know why.

In the months since Smiles' Retirement, Nickels had been forced to work Upstairs with the other psychics. She had probably lost 10 pounds and she no longer had the funny, expressive face she used to have. She looked tired and unhappy; instead of the comfortable sweats she usually lived in she wore the heavy black pants, long sleeved black shirt, and rubber gloves that all psychics wore when they were on duty Upstairs. This uniform differentiated them from field agents. While field agents dressed in helmets and protective uniforms for the benefit of civilians, agents who worked within the Capitol building only needed to be clean and effective. When the doors opened, Nickels made a face like she didn't want to be there.

"Hey," she mumbled, not making eye contact. Whatever they were doing to her to re-train her up there was destroying her social skills. "I'm working but I really needed to talk to you."

"To me?" BG's voice sounded high in his ears.

(Alone,) she said telepathically. BG flinched. The voice in his mind sounded exactly like Nickels, while most psychics who spoke telepathically sounded like they had static over their voices. She was talented, a more talented telepath than Lady could ever hope to be. So she had given up on asking for consent before going into people's' minds. How long had that taken? (I'll intercept your thoughts, you don't need to talk. It'll just freak her out.)

(What's going on?) He felt panic.

Nickels looked at her feet. They had taken her boots away and given her the same kind of little black flats Lady always wore. (I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here but you were nice to us when Smiles was Retired. I wanted to repay that. You need to get Upstairs right now.)

"What?" BG almost shouted it. Adrenaline surged through his body as he realized what Nickels was talking about. His legs began to shake as if he had just run a long distance. There was no reason for anyone on his squad to get Retired. They were all hard workers, efficient agents. Unless one of them had committed an act that was unforgivable."Lady?" His eyes stung at the unthinkable.

Nickels shook her head no. (I just thought you'd want to see their body. For closure. Nobody gets that here.)

For a second, BG saw red. His blood was hot, he could feel every heartbeat. He could not move. He could not think. He could not breathe.

Behind him, Zoey took a few shuffling steps forward. "BG?" she asked, extending a hand out to nearly touch him, as she did when she was nervous. "What's wrong?" In that moment BG was so scared and reactive that he shoved her away from him with his right hand. His skin met hers and it instantly blistered. The pain brought him back to the issue before him and he clutched his hand over his heart.

Usually he could spring into action without hesitation. BG opened his mouth but no words came out. It was like he was a fish dying on the shore. He tried to focus enough to teleport but nothing happened. It took three more attempts before he was able to do so. He left Bizo alone and didn't even care. Didn't even take her feelings into consideration. All that mattered to him was getting to Echo.

The jump was not-- for lack of a better phrase-- well executed. He knew the Upstairs layout perfectly. He knew where the small concrete room with the grate in its floor was. He knew how to navigate the sterile halls above the dormitories, with all the twists and turns, the laboratories and confinement rooms. Instead of appearing right in front of the room where Retirements happened, BG crashed into a desk in a laboratory. A couple of white coated scientists jumped back in surprise. BG stumbled, then teleported again. If he was not careful he was going to lose his other arm or worse.

He appeared in front of the Retirement room but didn't stick the landing. BG tripped and almost fell to his knees. In front of him, directly in front of the door, leaned Crossfire, the agent in charge of executions. When he saw him, he jumped to his feet.

Crossfire regarded him with his heavy-lidded, half-open eyes. He put the communication device he was tapping on back in one of his pockets. Like Nickels, he was dressed in the simple black pants and black shirt that all agents who worked Upstairs wore. Unlike Nickels, he had a firearm strapped to his belt. "Woah there friend," he said. He was so universally hated that he had to sleep on a bed in one of the labs so that nobody shanked him in his sleep. It came with being in charge of Retirements. "This isn’t ideal."

BG seized him by the arm and shoved him away from the door. He flung it open without considering the consequences. What was worse, seeing your closest friend’s body or never seeing it at all? That philosophical question did not exist in BG’s mind. There was only the mission: get to Echo. Find Echo. See Echo. Be with Echo.

Did he love them? There wasn’t any doubt.

There was nothing inside of the room. No body. Only a wet little puddle of blood on the floor that was slowly draining into the grate. It seemed too small to be the only thing left of them.

All he could do was stand there and tremble. He could not process organized thoughts. The world was not moving around him. This was a dream. This was a nightmare like the ones he had every night except it was worse.

Crossfire leaned against the doorframe behind him. “Your teammate was nasty, you know,” he said. BG slowly turned to face him. His blonde lashes and eyebrows made him look hairless and repulsive: a monster. He had a hand lightly on his firearm. “Their ability. They didn’t look the same after they died. ”

BG’s left hand clenched into a fist.

Did you want to see them?" The executioner curled his upper lip. "I wouldn't. You know what a bullet does to a head. Messy." The way he said it made BG gaze down at the blood on the floor again. It was very red. Had he ever seen Echo bleed before? They were so careful and avoided injury. Images of skulls being obliterated by bullets filled his mind and he hated himself for knowing what it looked like.

Had they been scared?

Of course they had been fucking scared. There had been no warning. No preamble. They just got dragged Upstairs and shot. He'd seen Retirements happen before. They made you stand with your hands raised, your face to the wall. A Handler, a psychic, and the person who took the shot were always present. Sometimes others if backup was needed, if it was expected that the soon-to-be terminated person would put up a fight. A lot of people tried to fight. Allegedly Smiles had bubbled himself for nearly a day before they got to him. In the end that's what always happened. No one escaped.

He held the image of Echo's face in his memories. The last time he talked to them had been when they parted that morning after showering. Echo had been so upset about a single zit that had sprung up near their nose. BG had laughed until Echo tried to get him in a chokehold so he had flipped them over and didn't let them get up. It had been so funny because they were so mad. What a stupid final memory. That was it, forever. No more jokes, no more wrestling around. No more missions. No more waking them up in the morning. No more Echo.

They had been taken away from him.

BG couldn't look into Crossfire's eyes. He wanted to kill him; this creature that existed only to take the lives of others. That's what they all were, really. Their function was to kill and destroy. Echo had been right to want to get out of this place and now they never would.

"Who authorized it?" he said in a voice that he did not recognize. It came from far away. "Do you know?"

Crossfire shrugged lazily. "I just follow orders." He scratched his nose with his non dominant hand. The other never strayed far from his firearm. "I'll tell you though. For a price."

"What do you want?" He stared at his gun, unable to look away from it. He imagined the way he had held it before firing.

Crossfire smiled. It was not so much an expression of happiness or smugness as it was an act of him moving the corners of his mouth up to mimic normal human behavior. "The name of whoever went down and leaked confidential information to you."

If BG told him that Nickels had told him about Echo's termination, Nickels would be subject to swift and severe punishment. Everyone who worked Upstairs operated on a different level than the rest of them. Not too long ago, BG would not have cared what happened to Nickels. When Smiles was still alive, he would have relished the idea of landing her in the kind of trouble that left her in pain just because it would have pissed Smiles off. Now the idea of hurting other agents made him sick. He couldn't do that to her.

"Lady," he lied. Nobody could touch Lady. As far as he knew, she had never faced repercussions for anything she had done. She had killed 3 agents accidentally over the years while working on them in the re-education rooms and got away with it. She hurt people just for the hell of it. She was childish and incompetent in the field because of how rapidly her mind was failing her. Why should she care? Lady was Elite and nobody could touch her. There was not a single agent who was not terrified of her, himself included. "She intercepted what was happening by accident."

"Aw." The smiles that Crossfire was aping faded away like he was disappointed that he was not going to get to hunt some poor sucker down and hurt them. "OK. The termination order came straight from the Executive Director. It wasn't proposed by a Handler or nothing. Guess your pal personally upset her, I dunno."

Silas.

Statue-like, unreadable Silas. Silas, who he had loved for so long and had only just recently started to fear and resent. Smiles had been right about her. Of course he had been. Smiles had been right about everything.

BG wanted to throw up. He wanted to die because that would be easier. Of course it came back to Silas. She had never liked his connection to Echo. She had never liked how much he talked about them, and now they were dead. All he could do was stand there helplessly. His metal fist began to rise. The rest of his body was frozen in place. It was like he was already dead.

Crossfire noticed his aggressive stance and clenched fist. He did not change his, as if he was confident that BG would not dare to attack him. He was one of the oldest agents there; as old as Smiles had been. Silas had told BG once that it was hard to keep agents in that position because they became so hated. Soon he would be executed by someone else's hand. "What's the problem, man?" he asked mockingly. "You angry at me because I terminated your little girlfriend? That's so cute. Wanna hear something funny? They refused to turn around and face the wall so I shot them in the face. Let me show you. You snuck up here to see them, right?" He manhandled BG out of the Retirement room and down the hall. They were evenly matched strength wise, but BG felt as weak as a kitten. He let himself be pulled down the Upstairs corridors because he couldn't come up with anything else to do.

They passed by more researchers, who inhabited the many laboratories Upstairs. BG took no notice of them. They all wore white coats and detached expressions. Dr. Y-- or Yancey Atwood-- passed by with a canned energy drink. He did not recognize BG. Dr. Y was an unremarkable man with a wide, smiling mouth and sneakers that did not match the usual uniform of a scientist. It was hard to picture what he looked like away from his presence but as he passed, but BG tried to commit his bland face to memory. He did not look sad. He did not look interested in anything at all. A man who had...worked with Echo for nearly 10 years, and he didn't even appear to care about their death.

For most people, this was just work. They got to go home to their loved ones and forget all about what they had done. It wasn’t fair.

Crossfire pushed him into another room. It was small, windowless, and more than 10 degrees colder than the rest of the Upstairs. The only thing inside was a stainless steel table in the center with a connected shelf and bright lights overtop of it. Like a Re-education room, only more sterile. One wall had several small square metal doors. BG had never been inside but he knew it was where they kept the bodies before they tossed them into the incinerators. If an agent was not Retired-- that is to say, if they died of natural causes or were unlawfully murdered-- then this was where autopsies were carried out. Agents who were Retired were not further mutilated after their deaths. Everyone knew how they died. That was a blessing at least. Echo would not have wanted to be cut up.

BG supported himself by leaning on the metal table. He was dizzy, he was not grounded. He was watching himself from outside of his body.

"I'm so tired of you people sneaking up here to try and see the bodies. I keep saying nobody wants to see that shit, but no," Crossfire was saying. He wrenched one of the little metal doors on the far wall open. It opened with little difficulty and a smaller metal slab rolled out. The thing that had been inside and laying on top of the slab was not even covered. BG was quick to look away. He didn't want to see. Did he? "All your little friendships and connections-- who does that really serve? Nobody. And then a few months back, when that girl Pete was fighting her way out of containment because she thought she could get to Smiles, who did that serve? Nobody. She screwed herself because of her connection to the guy. Now here you are, so intent on seeing your partner after their brains have been blown out because they were on your squad. All this does is make you people feel like shit. Is it really worth it? Go on, I've taken you this far. Look!"

Against every instinct in him, BG looked at Echo's body lying there. Their expression would have been peaceful, had it not been for the wound which had taken their life. The left eye socket and cheekbone were entirely caved in into red nothingness. Totally obliterated. Gory. He stared at the bulletwound for a long time. This was where people were supposed to cry and wail and tear at their clothes out of grief. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with him? He had seen other people go into paroxysms of grief when their teammates were taken from them. BG was numb. He kept staring at what was left of Echo's face, and from far away he thought about how much they would have hated it if he saw them like that. He looked away and his eyes were unable to move from the gun at Crossfire's hip.

He raised his fist like it did not belong to him. "Hey man," he said from around a tongue that had gone thick and useless.

The executioner looked up from his handiwork. His lazy, uninterested expression did not change because he was like Lady in his arrogance; so far gone that he did not view anyone as a threat, even if they were right in front of him ready to do harm. "What?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

Without answering, BG started hitting him in the face with all his strength. He used his metal arm with its terrible capacity for violence. He did not stop. It was easier than he imagined it would be, but at close quarters Crossfire's ability was useless. After two good hits, BG had him on the tile floor. After four, he had crushed the cartilage in his nose and the blood began to spurt in heavy bursts, splattering across BG's face and getting into his eyes. Crossfire's skull felt like a wet melon under his fist. He was aware that he sustained a couple of blows, but did not feel them. He was aware that the other agent was yelling for help, but did not hear it. In the moment, his body was a beastly automaton with a singular desire: to kill.

He saw Crossfire's eyes roll back in his head and he still didn't stop.

He wasn't even mad at him for shooting Echo. He wasn't the one to blame-- just following orders, after all. But he was the only person close enough to punish.

The yelling attracted people. It must have. BG felt himself pulled up and physically restrained. It didn't hurt, not yet, although he knew that someone had tased him because he saw himself convulse. He kept fighting back without thinking about how futile it was. All he wanted to do was cause harm to anyone who played a part in doing this to Echo, and for all it mattered, everyone had played a part in that. It did not occur to him that he could teleport to Silas' quarters and end it all for good. Not yet.

They got him on the floor and tased him again. Two Handlers: October and someone else, he couldn't quite see them. A gaggle of researchers had gathered behind them, observing in their frightened-rat way. BG thrashed and rammed his shoulder into the legs of the Handler he couldn't see, sending them crashing to the ground. October kicked BG viciously, then stomped down on his elbow.

"Aw shit," said October. "I guess it was only a matter of time before this one lost it. Yikes. Hey can one of ya'll check if he killed that other guy? Jesus, what a mess."

BG tried to free his arm and October tased him a third time, not letting up until BG lost control of his bladder. He was sadistic, even for staff. The other Handler got up (upon closer inspection, she was the one known as Wednesday) and once she was clear, October stomped down on BG again even though he lay still. "Yeah, have fun laying in a puddle of piss, smart guy, because you're gonna be in Solitary for a week."

One of the researchers stepped over the urine and the blood with his sneakers to stand over Crossfire's body. BG was so far removed from what was going on, he could only recognize the white coat. The researcher bent down to check the pulse. "Unconscious," he said in an unremarkable voice. Still mostly obscured from view, BG saw this researcher pause by the open metal slab that held what was left of Echo. He gently rolled it back into the opening which held it and closed the door so that Echo and their ruined face could no longer be seen. A small act of kindness. An unheard of action. "No real harm. I'm sure whatever this young man's punishment is, it needn't be so drastic. He's upset about his friend."

October snorted. "No offense, but you have no idea how to treat these kids. If you aren’t harsh they’ll rip you to shreds."

The researcher leaned down over BG and smiled at him. Black hair, black eyes, completely and utterly bland. It was evident that he recognized him. Yancey Atwood. If BG had not been so incapacitated, he would have....well, he would have done something. "You're the professional," said Yancey pleasantly. He gave BG a cheeky little wink, which he interpreted as mockingly malevolent. "I just think this big fella is upset about his poor friend with the big hole in their grey matter over there. I know that I sure am."

Things were much worse than BG could have ever imagined.

Interlude III

Later, he thought about how he could easily teleport to Silas and kill her, but even in his anger he would not dare. There were parts of him that still loved her.

BG VS Lady

Months passed. Life became tiresome. Day in and day out, it all boiled down to the same thing: violence. They all perpetrated violence. Out in the real world, they perpetrated violence against civilians. Inside the dorms, they perpetrated violence against each other. It did not end. It would never end. It was not only the secret police who were engaged in violence. A strange and horrible Outsider came to Eden and brought with him his appetite for blood. The terrorists who had fled the Colony a year and a half ago were back and causing trouble. More Outsiders came, and Silas executed their leader herself. Cyberterrorism got worse by the day, which led to riots. There were lots of riots. There were even reports of a family of cannibals, which was actually kind of weird, even for Eden.

BG was sick of it. He woke up every morning feeling nauseous and haunted by every bad thing he had ever done. And yes he had done bad things, he had liked doing bad things. He had taken kids away from their families who loved them. He had chased innocent people down and killed them. He had liked it all, because his convictions in the agency were so strong. It wasn't just about being ordered to do bad things. Anyways, it wasn't a good enough excuse. When Smiles was ordered to do anything that crossed the boundaries of his moral fortitude, he refused until they really forced him.

He started helping people whenever he could because he could no longer stand the violence. When weaker or lower-level agents got bullied, he stepped in. When he saw people breaking the rules, he looked the other way. He stopped being complicit. He gave advice. People like Pills and Nickels, girls who had once hated his guts and attacked him, grew friendly with him. The solidarity between him and others strengthened.

But BG still couldn't sleep well. His dreams upset him too much. He would wake up in the night beneath an empty bunk. At some point he would have to find someone to take Echo's place. Recruitment wasn't for another 5 months, and he did not think he could stomach choosing some freshly tortured 14 year old. He wanted to petition to put Nickels on the Squad, since hers had been dissolved the second Smiles kicked the bucket. Lady would never go for that. Staff would never go for that either; what was the point of having a Squad with two psychics?

He hadn't stopped thinking about Echo. Sometimes he talked to Nickels about it, since she could understand what it felt like to lose a teammate. Hell, Nickels had essentially lost 3 teammates: Smiles got a bullet in his brain, Pete was locked up Upstairs having unimaginable things done to her, and Johnny was so still so hurt and angry that he had started hanging out with people who treated him poorly. Nickels said that she just missed the way things used to be, and she screwed her plump face up but was unable to cry. It made BG feel even worse.

BG contemplated these things as he slowly walked back to the dorm after an exhausting mission where he had done nothing but try to hunt down the little terrorist group that had come back. They really did not want to be found. Good for them.

The door to his room was closed, but he didn't think anything of it. It was mid-afternoon and the girls often liked to take naps when they weren't working. BG swung the door open and stepped inside. "Hey, I'm ba--" That was all he was capable of getting out before he looked about the room and froze.

Lady sat cross legged on the floor, her posture and focus as rigid as a dancer's. Beside her, Bizo lay on her back, unmoving. This tableau could have been normal, but BG knew what was happening immediately. He knew because there was blood at the corners of Bizo's mouth like she had bitten her tongue. He knew because Lady did not move or react when he entered the room since she was so focused on what she was doing. And he knew because Dot had congealed into a still black puddle on the floor nearby. Every few seconds, Lady's beautiful hands twitched like she was directing her psychic ability, and more blood came out of Bizo's mouth. Lady was smiling.

"Hey!" BG shouted. No reaction. His instincts kicked in and he crossed the room to seize Lady by the shoulder. Her skin was cold to the touch. Her big eyes were so black he could barely see any whites in them. When he grabbed her, she still did not leave her sadistic trance. Her terrible mouth kept smiling and smiling. On the floor, Bizo's expression was frozen in one of terror. She had gone so pale that the freckles on her face looked like they had been painted on. She was so trapped by whatever psychic horror show Lady was inflicting on her that could not even blink.

"Lady!" BG said loudly, shaking her. "Stop it!"

She did not stop, and she wouldn't be able to unless he jarred her from the way she was locked in. A while ago, he would have hesitated or tried to wait it out. He would have made excuses for Lady, like he always did. Oh, she had brain problems. Oh, she had good reason for doing what she was doing. Oh, he couldn't criticize her because she had saved his life. Oh, he loved her. Excuses, excuses. Now, BG could only think about one thing: he was going to be sick if he stood around and watched as she hurt even one more person.

The Lady problem was something that he should have addressed a long time ago. He would always feel guilt over the way that he knew she treated Echo and that he hadn't stopped any of it. He would always feel guilt over the way she treated everyone except him, for that matter. But it was better late than never.

BG slapped her across the face with the open palm of his right hand. He did not use much strength in the slap, because he didn't want to actually hurt her-- she was so fragile. When his hand connected with her head, Lady made a noise that was in between a gasp and a growl. For a split second, before she lost focus, she lashed out at him with her mind.

In all his years as an agent, BG had never been psychically assaulted. He was too privileged, too important. Not even during these last couple of months of acting out had anyone dared to confront him. The last time a psychic got into his head was B-Day, and she had ripped his potential out from where it hid deep down inside of him. Now, Lady pulled out other things that he had shoved away. Her specialty was trauma memories and luckily BG did not have too many of those floating around. For those few fleeting moments, he re-lived the pain of losing his arm, and had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. The heat and the blood seemed unbearably real. He tasted copper. The air, however, did not smell of smoke and fear like it had on that day. It smelled soapy and clean, just like Echo used to. That was what really got to him. The psychic pain merged with the pleasant memory of his friend and became something unbearable.

His eyes grew wet.

Then it ended. BG steadied himself and shook his head to clear it. He looked at Lady, who clutched one hand to her face. A red mark bloomed across her pasty skin. Her expression was one of shock and betrayal. On the ground, Bizo started to wheeze and cough. She rolled over to her belly and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Oh no," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" BG knelt to try and help her up, but her skin glistened with corrosive oils. She cried in the way that a little kid cries. Beside her, Dot began to solidify into her usual form. The little monster also made terrible noises as if she was also crying. Dot oozed over to Bizo and let herself be clutched.

"You hit me," Lady said in disbelief. Her lower lip quivered.

BG ignored her for the time being. "Are you OK, Zoey?" he asked Bizo. He wanted to hug her so badly.

Bizo shook her head as she buried her face in Dot. The creature was slowly growing back the prickly black hair she liked so much, and which had been lost when she had been...puddle-ified….He had not known that Lady could affect the alien creatures. Maybe it was only due to Dot being smarter than the rest of her kind.

"You hit me!" Lady said again. Her fine black eyebrows furrowed to contort her face.

"I'll smack you again the next time I catch you hurting Bizo!" BG said fiercely. Lady shrunk back from his anger, but her expression darkened. "That goes for anyone else here too, but especially for her! What the hell is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? She is our teammate!"

Lady's gaze slid over to Bizo, who kept crying and crying. Her curled lip revealed her belief that Bizo was something less than human-- a belief that many agents shared due to Bizo's disability. Once, BG had believed that Bizo made it out of all those years she spent in Solitary without being damaged. Spending years alone in the dark made her wilt. She was not intelligent, she was not emotionally mature. It showed in her naïve, trusting eyes. It showed in the way her mouth gaped open at all times. They'd slammed her into a dark little room when she was only 8, when her mind was still plastic and learning new things. It damaged her irreparably. Maybe if she was not in this place then she would have a chance to heal. Healing was a luxury no agent was privileged enough to get.

Dot's hair bristled and moved like the legs of countless spiders. She was back to her usual size, just a little bit bigger than a housecat. 5 narrow yellow eyes popped up in various places on her body and they all stared at BG. One mouth filled with sharp triangular teeth opened in her middle, close to Bizo's face. "Hurt!" The teeth gnashed in anger but the voice was scared and quiet. "She--she made me see the home that is beyond the stars! She made me remember we can never go back!" She grew several short legs with appendages that were not quite hands but not quite paws. Even smaller mouths opened in the center of these hand-paws, with tiny tongues that Dot used to gently lap up Bizo's tears.

"Talk to me, Zoey," said BG pleadingly.

Bizo kept shaking her head and holding the little monster close. She never opened up to him. Just like Echo. Never opening up, never actually saying the thing that was the problem. Never putting a name to the problem. In this case, BG knew the name. Lady.

Of course they hadn't felt safe talking to him about her. He always took her side. He defended her. BG felt nauseous and it wasn't just the sight of the blood at Bizo's mouth.

"I'm sorry," he told her and he knew that his words were cheap, that only his actions could start to make up for it all. He looked at Lady, who still sat on the ground but whose expression had changed to confused rage. It was not yet clear who that rage was directed towards. If it was at him, well, he didn't let himself care. "Lady," he said, keeping his voice calm even though he wanted to yell at her some more. Even though he wanted to shake her. "Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Really? What do you think?"

Lady gingerly put a hand to where he had slapped her and winced. It made his heart twinge but he no longer let himself feel bad for her. There was no more room for that in his heart, not after he had been filling it with things like trust and collaboration with other agents. He looked at her and saw how sick she was. The culmination of nearly a decade of being used to torture others-- to torture kids-- had made her into a monster. She was not beautiful like he used to see her; she had grown unspeakably ugly. Every inch of spare flesh had withered from her body, her olive skin had turned colorless. Even her teeth had become translucent and gray. She was probably dying slowly. Her brain hadn't worked in years, and her body would soon follow.

"Are you mad at me?" Lady asked him. She slowly got to her feet and her knees popped. On her feet were the little flat slippers that they gave out to agents who worked inside of the building, and she padded a few steps away from him as if she anticipated that he would strike her again. "I do this all the time. I just get bored, I can't stand being bored. You know how it is, some people can just be so annoying!"

He tried to stay calm and tried to not clench his hands into fists. "You can't do that. Zoey and Dot are our friends."

"Bizo is retarded and we kill stuff like her pet literally every week," Lady said dismissively. She sniffed. "And I was thinking that like, now Echo's gone it would be easier for us to downgrade to Partners instead of having to get a new teammate. Then it would just be me and you, and wouldn't that be totally so much nicer? Just me and you, just like back on B-Day."

BG felt icy horror fill his body. Lady was smiling at him like she had come up with something novel. The implication alone made him want to do something drastic.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

He stared at her and knew that the girl who had brought him back from the brink of death on B-Day was dead, and the person who lived in her body now was a stranger to him. He had closed his eyes and ears and ignored the way that she had changed because it was easier for him to pretend like she was the same as she was. He knew that she loved him in her own twisted way but he wished she didn't. He loved her too, even then. He loved her more than he could even explain and knowing what she really was made him want to rip his hair out.

How was it possible for someone to be bad, even though he loved them? BG did not want to reconcile with something like that. It would be so much easier if everything was black and white, like it used to be. A couple of years ago, he knew for a fact that Smiles and his Squad were his enemies. Now he pitied Smiles for dying in such a humiliating way, and had grown close to Nickels. A couple of years ago he knew for a fact that the agency was always just. Now he thought it might rip him apart.

Bizo kept crying her snuffling tears. She was so vulnerable.

At length, BG said, "I think you need to walk away because I'm so angry right now I don't know what I'll do if I keep talking to you, and because I love you I really don't want to hurt you. Get the Partners thing out of your head forever, I mean it. I love Bizo too." When he said that, Bizo finally stopped mashing her face down into her alien friend so that she could look at him in a way that was so shocked it almost broke his heart. Of course she believed that he loved her less. Why wouldn't she? He had to make up for that somehow. He had to let her know that he loved her entire greasy awkward being, that he would kill and die for her. Echo would have done anything for her too, back when they were alive. Bizo was wonderful and kind and she was loved so much.

Lady cocked her head like that helped her better comprehend what he said to her. Like she couldn't read his body language. She probably couldn't. She blinked stupidly and did not stop smiling. "Ok, I'll take a walk, only because you asked," she said. She turned to soundlessly go for the door. Without looking back, she said, "Remember what I said about the two of us though. Just me and you."

She closed the door without making a noise and left.

He knew that it was too late for Lady and that he would never be able to help her. She was too far gone.

BG VS THE FINAL SHOWDOWN

There was nothing BG used to like to do more than chase people down.

Now it depressed and repulsed him.

There he was, in the middle of the School District. Not on top of the buildings, or creeping through the alleys at night, but inside of the actual high school. Like a civilian. For this mission he was even dressed like a civilian. The armory had doled out jeans, red sneakers, and a t shirt that said "peach time", whatever that meant. He was supposed to blend in, but even with his youthful face he could never pass as a high school student. He was too old. And he stood like a soldier. The act of dressing up anyway made him feel uncomfortable.

The mission itself was uncomfortable. Abnormal. 3 days of surveillance on the target, concluding with her extraction. The target was some 16 year old girl named Cynthia Tariq, who was a low-grade psychic. Normally she would be yoinked out of her bed while she slept, but for some reason that had been deemed an impossibility. She was special in some way so Silas wanted her to be monitored before bringing her in. This may or may not have had something to do with the fact that the suspicious Infirmary nurse Doc was her father, and her other father was part of the terrorist cell that had been causing so much grief lately. BG hadn't even blinked when he learned that snippet of information. Nothing could surprise him anymore, it was all too fucked up.

The Colony was going to hell.

The Colony was going to hell and BG was wasting his time, standing around in a high school wearing red sneakers.

He and Lady were co-leading the mission. They were unable to really interact with any of the school kids because they obviously didn't belong. Lady looked especially horrific in civilian clothes; he had never seen her wear colors other than black, grey, and white, so the orange shirt she had on looked ghastly. When staff briefed them, they had been assured that all the kids would think the two of them were college aged, or teachers. It was worse. All the kids thought they were cops, which was not far off from the truth.

While he and Lady co-lead the op from the background, four C and B Class agents did all the real grunt work. They were chosen because of their actual ability to pass as high schoolers, as well as their high levels of friendliness and charisma which were supposed to put the Tariq girl at ease so she didn't call her father before she got nabbed. Bex, Shorty, Flash, and Johnny. That last one didn't feel too good. BG and Lady had been given orders to make it look like he got killed on accident during the mission. Really, Silas just wanted him executed like vermin so that Nickels and the freshly re-integrated Smokey Pete would stay in line. BG really didn't want to put Johnny down on account of his closeness to Nickels, but it would be up to him to do it since Lady couldn't kill using her mind, and they all had to leave their weapons behind to 'fit in'.

BG sat in an empty classroom as he contemplated this. He had a piece of taffy in one of his pockets but wasn't interested in eating it. He wanted to take a nap. Anything bad that could have happened had happened during the last couple of months. That wasn't including the day he walked in on Lady torturing Bizo and Dot. Silas was one step away from declaring martial law, she couldn't control anyone. Even Commissioner Nguyen was defying her and was seen openly interacting with West Agapama. He hadn't had a full 8 hours of rest in....well, he couldn't remember when.

He was aware of a fire alarm going off on another floor because he could hear it faintly. Probably the one where the cafeteria was located, since Cynthia Tariq was at lunch that that was where the 4 dummies were supposed to nab her. BG put a finger to the side of his face, then remembered that he wasn't wearing a helmet and had to use a normal communication device on his wrist. He pressed the button that activated it and would connect him to the agent he had appointed Squad leader. "Bex," he said. "What's the situation?"

No answer. Probably because civie communication devices were inefficient and awkward to use. Bex probably didn't even know he was hailing her. BG sighed and thought about teleporting down into the cafeteria, but knew that would cause mass panic if anyone happened to see him. Which they would, crowded cafeteria and all. He decided to wait until someone contacted him for once.

10 minutes later, Lady skidded into the room. She had actually been jogging-- he knew because she panted for breath and had high points of color in her cheekbones. BG immediately popped up and teleported across the room to support her. She appeared to be shocked and amused.

"What's going on?" BG asked her, flabbergasted that she had exerted herself physically instead of just talking to him telepathically. "Is everything ok?"

"No!" Lady exclaimed, but she didn't sound too upset. There was laughter hidden behind her voice. "This is just too crazy. That girl just wiped the floor with our goons. She's terrifying, she can't possibly just be a psychic. I see why she's so special, why they wanted us to watch her. I couldn't get into her head at all from that distance, and when I tried she ran for it!" Lady really did laugh, like she didn't believe what was happening.

"She got away?" BG said, alarmed. "What's so funny about that? Locate her right now so I can jump over and grab her, what the fuck is wrong with you Lady, an untrained civilian shouldn't be able to take out four of us at once!"

"Three," said Lady, brightly, like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Three?"

"Three. It's too good. That Artificial who bit you last year helped her, he turned on us. They ran away together-- don't worry I can feel their minds, even from here. Hiding while the girl tries to reach her dad to come save her before it's too late. It's all fear fear fear, I don't think I can stop laughing about it."

BG had to keep himself from reacting. It wasn't funny. It was awful. So Johnny had known that he was going to die on this mission. He must have known for days, must have been waiting for it. There wasn't much worse than the anticipation of one's own death. It was the reaction of a cow going to slaughter and trying uselessly to turn back. Of course Lady sensed fear. Johnny knew he was going to die and had tried to save a civilian girl anyway. And now they were both going to be hunted down easily, Johnny would die, and Cynthia Tariq would be taken away from her dads and tortured and brainwashed until she was nothing but a soldier.

He felt numb and hated himself for being a part of this.

"Where are they hiding?" he asked. He wanted to go home. He couldn't go home. He'd never had one.

"Two floors down, close to the left wing," Lady told him. She put her arms around his waist in preparation for teleportation. She was featherlight and he wanted to push her away. "Closet. Isn't it always a closet that they choose to burrow into?"

BG nodded without feeling anything but dread, and made the jump.

Two floors down, the firearm still rung. It blared in the background, impossible to ignore. The hallway was empty, all the students and faculty having scampered away to safety after seeing the fight and hearing the alarms. Since all emergency alert systems were wired into the agency, the single technopath always prevented emergency services from even receiving alerts if secret police were involved. None of them wanted the added difficulty of dealing with the cops, fire-control, or EMTs. These delays had resulted in dozens of civilian deaths, but the missions always went smoothly.

As he stuck the landing, BG noticed the red sneakers he wore. They looked ridiculous on him after all the years of wearing heavy boots, but he kind of liked them. He zoned out for a second to exist in a fantasy where he could wear what he wanted and didn't have to kill anyone, until Lady grasped his metal shoulder. Teleporting didn't make her sick anymore, since she no longer ate and no longer adhered to the same physical laws the rest of them did. She patted him a few times in excitement.

Lady loved to hunt people down just like he once had. For her it was not the thrill of the chase. It was the slow process of it all; the understanding of her prey's terrified anticipation of her arrival.

She pointed at a closed door several meters down the hall. BG followed the path with his eyes. He swallowed. "You sure?" he asked, his mouth dry, knowing the answer.

"Mhm." Lady's eyes had gone black again, deep pools of water framed by impossibly long lashes. She did not look human. She cocked her head for better focus the way that she always did when she listened in telepathically; she had no skill for it, unlike Nickels. For all her power, she failed to even be half the telepath of Smiles' B-Class psychic. "So sad. He's giving the girl advice on how to survive in the agency because he knows they're about to be caught. He’s thinking about all the bad things that ever happened to him."

BG's heart pounded. The frayed nerves in his shoulder burned as if his body was turning against him, as if it was urging him to stop participating in what he knew was wrong. If he was brave he would listen. But he was not brave. He would kill Johnny with his bare hands since he had no weapon. He would restrain a little girl and drag her out of her hiding place so that she could begin a short lifetime of participating in the same wretched things. The cycle repeated itself.

Just go, he thought to himself, unmoving. Just run away. He couldn't. He stared at the closet where the target hid. Boiler closet? Maybe. It would be so easy to stomp over there and get it over with. He had done this dozens of times before, both with Lady and without her. He could not will himself to do so.

"Now would be a good time to surprise them," said Lady. She un-cocked her head and stretched her arms to limber up. The bones in her shoulders and back popped gruesomely. "Really reaching a whaddya call it, a crescendo of feelings in there." She laughed her girlish, high-pitched laughed. The fire-alarm had not stopped. When BG did not move, she took the initiative. She covered the short distance to the door as quietly and gracefully as a dancer. BG reluctantly followed behind her and flexed his left arm in preparation for the kill.

How many people had he killed with that arm?

The closet door was one of the flimsy ones that slid open and shut, painted the same color as the wall so that it was perfectly camouflaged. There was no handle, no lock, only a small indentation where one could insert their fingers to slide it open. Lady hooked two fingers into it and pulled; BG loomed behind her like a menacing shadow.

Boiler closet. Of course it was. Like all boiler closets it was dark and cramped, with only just enough room for the mechanical beast that provided heated water and steam for the left wing of the school. Two people could not fit inside comfortably, but fit they did. Johnny stood closest to the door. He was in a fighting stance, ready to lunge. The t-shirt and jeans he wore to be undercover made him almost look like a normal kid, but that was the end of it. His face was wild and afraid; his sharp teeth were bared in a snarl but his eyes were big and wet like two runny fried eggs. The girl, Cynthia Tariq was pushed uncomfortably behind him like he was trying to protect her. She held something in her arms and gazed at the intruders in the way that civilians who have never seen Elite secret police agents always do. She had dark skin, bright eyes, and box braids that were in disarray, probably due to her recent fight. Someone must have hit her before she escaped the cafeteria, because a bruise was forming on one of her cheeks. She looked frightened, but not nearly as frightened as she should have been.

When Johnny saw Lady, that's when he must have known it was all over because he started to breathe rapidly; BG could see his chest rising and falling. But Cynthia was worse, it was like she knew Lady's true nature just by looking at her. She squeezed the thing in her arms tight and it squeaked. As mashed as she was up against the boiler, she tried to correct her stance instead of cringing back. It wasn't that Cynthia was not afraid-- she was very afraid, judging by the way she looked at Lady like she was some hideous spider. It was that she had the strength of will in to push past the fear.

She looked so young. 16 was older than a lot of recruits were when they got pulled away into the agency. For some reason, Cynthia seemed younger. It was because she where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be in school, doing whatever it was teenagers were supposed to do in school. BG never had that privilege. He could see ink stains on the sleeve of her pink sweatshirt and that made him feel worse than anything, though he could not place why.

"I'm surprised you guys got as far as you did," said Lady, like she was some kind of villain from a movie. BG wished she wouldn't talk so they could get this horrible ordeal over with. She didn't twitch a muscle, but was already using her monstrous ability. Johnny shook all over like a dog as she pulled things from the recesses of his memory. It could have been anything; he had suffered enough over the years. Cynthia did not seem to be affected but she grew more alarmed when she saw that..

Cynthia dropped the thing she had been holding so that she could clumsily put up her fists. BG was roused from his discomfort and self-loathing when he realized that it was one of the alien creatures, like Dot except larger. It stretched itself up into a dripping bipedal form all covered in eyes and mouths, aping a human-like shape. It wrapped several long black tendrils around Cynthia's legs and her waist. When Lady saw it, she hopped back in disgust.

"Get away from us," said Cynthia. Her voice quavered a bit but she spoke like she was making a threat. She maintained eye contact with Lady, something that most people could not do. "I'm not kidding, I know how to fight."

"Me too," said the creature. It formed what could almost be called a human face, exactly where a face should be.

This display shocked Lady so intensely that she must have let go of her psychic connection to Johnny, because he refocused and he stopped shaking. It shocked BG too. He was not aware that there were other creatures that could talk like Dot could. He was not aware that there were others that could make connections to humans. In that moment, Cynthia Tariq was more familiar to him than Lady was. She was a girl that loved a slimy little alien, just like Bizo. Someone who was like that saw the good parts of things, not the bad. This girl cared about a creature that wasn't even from her own dimension, something that deserved to creep around in the sewers eating vermin. She was not disgusted by it the way that all other people who could see Things were. She had made friends with Johnny in less than 3 days-- Johnny, a person who was harmful, empty, and unlikable. BG didn't need to talk to her to know what she was like: Cynthia Tariq was good.

He was about to take her to a place that would squash all the good right out of her.

Lady regarded Cynthia and the creature. "Ew," she said to BG. She wrinkled her nose and suddenly the creature made the kind of noise a cat makes when it is being slowly flattened beneath a wheel. The oily black surface of its flesh bubbled like it was being boiled. Its dozens of eyes rolled wildly before being sucked back into its body. As it shrieked, Cynthia grabbed at it in sudden terror, the same way one grabs at a family member. But her fingers slipped through its body as it dissolved into gelatinous black jelly and melted into a quivering puddle by her feet.

The only way Lady could affect something was if it had complex feelings. BG looked at the puddle. He thought about Dot.

"Billy?!" Cynthia exclaimed, but she did not waste time on grief. She tried to lunge at Lady. Johnny, standing in front of her, held her back. He had that unnatural freak strength Artificials sometimes had, but even then he appeared to strain against her. What was this girl? The dossier he had read said that she was nothing but a low-grade psychic, but then how was she that physically strong? She was not an Artificial, but then why did she have strange blue eyes and a mouthful of sharp teeth? She seemed to be reading Johnny's thoughts, because she looked at him and then stopped fighting. The message was clear: it was futile to fight two Elites. But Cynthia was not resigned; every inch of her body was tense and ready to move.

"Don't hurt her," Johnny said to BG. It was the first words he had said to him since that night he had sunk his teeth into his neck. All the fear seemed to have gone out of him now to be replaced by acceptance. Who could possibly get past both Lady and BG? Nobody could evade such hunters."I know you gotta kill me, I get it, but don't hurt her. You don't know what it's really like in there."

"I'm sorry," said BG, completely pathetic. He pictured what he would have to do, what he did not want to do. If he was lucky they wouldn't fight back.

He was not lucky.

Cynthia lunged for a second time and shoved past Johnny with a strength that should not have been possible. It was clear that she was untrained, but someone in her life had shown her how to throw a punch. She moved with the ferocity of a person who does not find it acceptable to quit. Her fist connected with Lady's face, dead center. It could have been a crippling blow, had Lady not recognized the danger she was in and lashed out psychically against it. Still, Cynthia's punch hit Lady square in the nose and shattered it with a loud crunch, sending Lady reeling back against BG. But the moment that Cynthia's skin touched Lady's, she crumpled to her knees, her body twisting in pain.

Suddenly motivated, Johnny also sprung forward to attack Lady, who he recognized as the greater threat. He moved to sweep her legs out from under her. Johnny was fast but BG was faster. He took one step into the boiler room and intercepted him, using his left arm to slam him against the wall hard so that he couldn't move. What Johnny’s Ability came down to was luckiness. Most of the time he was impossibly lucky. Other times, like this time, he screwed himself over so badly that it seemed like he had no luck at all. BG pressed his forearm across Johnny's throat and applied enough pressure to start incapacitating him-- knowing that with enough intensity, his job would be done.

He was farther from the door now, though only a pace separated him from Lady. By his feet, Cynthia Tariq's body convulsed and she cried for her mother. BG could see Lady out of the corner of his eye. Cynthia's punch had broken Lady's delicate nose; it was smashed and flattened. Blood poured out of both nostrils, down her chin, neck, and chest. The blood made BG sick to see and he steeled himself against becoming faint. Lady froze like she did not know what had happened to her. In nearly a decade, no target had ever laid a hand on her. She put a hand to her nose and then shuddered with pain and rage.

"You good?" BG asked her. Johnny struggled to free himself but grew weak from the lack of oxygen. BG tried not to look at him. He knew he had to end it, that it would be kinder to do it fast. He didn't have it in him to press down.

Lady gazed down on Cynthia, who went into another convulsion. In nearly 10 years, BG had never seen her so inhuman. Her eyes were completely black, no longer deep pools of water, but like holes in her skull. The entire lower part of her face was red and the blood dripped down onto the floor. Her trembling lips pulled back into an obscene smile. The blood was in her mouth and it stained her teeth. She crouched down to get closer to Cynthia and dropped whatever psychic torture program she was running in the girl's brain.

"Change of plans," said Lady, speaking more to Cynthia than to BG. "Looks like we failed our mission and couldn't take the girl in. Unavoidable accident." Cynthia breathed heavily and tried to get back up, but the things that Lady had made her experience had not given up their influence. All the girl could do was glare back at Lady without blinking, frozen.

Her words sent a chill through his body, like his own blood had turned to ice-water. Without knowing what she was talking about, he understood that this was it. This was the place where she really went off the deep end. Where their two paths separated forever. He had been waiting for it since the day he caught her hurting Bizo. Waiting for the moment she finally went where he couldn't follow.

Waiting for the moment where he would have to make a choice he didn't want to make.

"You can't mean that" he said, from a place that was far away and outside of his body. He forced himself to look at Johnny, who looked back in the way that people who know they're going to die do, little blood vessels in his eyes already bright and red from not being able to breathe. He didn't hate Johnny, didn't want to hurt him despite all of the things he had done. BG understood. And he wanted him to be free in a place where nobody could hurt him anymore.

BG wanted all of them to be free in a place where nobody could hurt them anymore.

"I mean it," said Lady. When she breathed, bubbles of mucus and blood came out of her ruined nostrils. She put one of her hands on Cynthia's head, gently rolled one of her braids between two fingers. "We have time. I want to slice her apart. You can do whatever you want to that guy. I know you must want to after what he did to you."

He knew one thing for sure and that was that he would not be able to live with himself if he allowed Lady to torture and kill this girl. BG used to think he was a good person, but had lost that sense of himself back when he realized that he was just a tool in the hands of someone evil. He had never been a good person. He looked the other way when people got hurt. He hurt people himself. He let people die and he let people get punished. He could not do that for even one more minute unless he wanted to blow his own brains out.

BG stopped pressing his arm against Johnny's windpipe so that he could breathe. Johnny wheezed and sucked air into his lungs, looking at BG warily, intelligent enough to know that he was being shown mercy but too stupid to understand why. When he was sure that Johnny was not going to react, BG released his hold on him entirely. He shook his head once to try to communicate the importance of not interfering.

On her knees in front of the girl, Lady was not paying attention to anything but the harm she intended to dole out. She was humming to herself, the way that she did when she was getting into 'torture mode'.

"Lady," said BG. He stepped to stand beside Cynthia and extended his left hand to his teammate. She took his hand without hesitation and allowed him to help her to her feet. Totally trusting, totally unaware. And why shouldn't she be? Over the years, BG had never given a reason to believe that he would harm her. Cynthia was frozen, and in Lady’s mind someone like Johnny was lower than dirt. Maybe she believed that he was showing her affection, maybe she believed that he wanted to tell her something important. It was impossible to say.

She was a monster and he loved her so much but it was all...wrong.

"Yes?" When she looked at him she was not really looking at him. Her terrible, beautiful, blood covered face was completely open. The cruelty and insectile anger on it faded away the moment that he spoke to her. BG had never wished to be a psychic before, but he did in that moment. What was she thinking? How was she feeling? She had no premonition of what he was about to do to her because she trusted him completely. He had watched her back for so many years. He had turned his back on what she did to others for so many years.

He cupped her face in his hands. When she brought him back after he lost his arm and he was bleeding helplessly as the bombs went off around them, she had cupped his face in her hands just like that. That was the day that he found her, but that was the day he had started to lose her as well. There was no going back to the girl she was before, the girl who he had been friends with, because that girl had been dead for a long time. The thing that was left was something that should not be. BG wanted to do the girl that Lady used to be just one act of kindness.

He should have said something. He should have said 'I love you', or, 'I'm sorry', but he didn't.

With one fast, simple, practiced movement, BG jerked Lady's head hard to one side and broke her neck. She died instantly. Painlessly. It was more than she could say for anyone who had died at her hands. One second she was there and the next second she was gone. Nothing changed. Lady looked the same as she ever did, she just wasn't...alive. She could have been sleeping. It wasn't like Echo, whose death had been concrete and violent and left half their skull blown off. BG carefully lowered her body to the floor and wondered why he didn't feel anything.

The second that Lady died, Cynthia Tariq regained control of her body. "What the fuck!" she said, gasping in pain but popping up to push past BG and Johnny in order to get to the black puddle. It was reforming itself too, the way that Dot had once. "Billy?! Are you OK?!"

Johnny did not look like he understood what was going on, like he expected the other shoe to drop and land him into an even worse situation. He had one hand on his neck and was still trying to position himself between BG and Cynthia.

The severity of what BG had done was starting to hit, but he still did not feel panic or grief. The numbness did not leave him. The fire alarm droned on and on as it had that entire time, and he thought about his next steps. He couldn't run. Running would make it worse. If all three of them ran then there would be nobody left to cover it all up. He knew what he had to do.

He would never be able to make up for all the bad things he had done. But he could start.

He would help Cynthia and Johnny escape the school District. He would go back to the Capitol building and as time passed he would do everything in his power to help as many people get out as he could. Until they caught him-- and they would catch him. It would be worth it.

BG looked at Lady one last time. He took a deep breath. “OK,” he said. For the first time in a long time, his voice felt like his own again. He felt like he was his own again. Maybe that was a start. “You two have to listen to me very carefully and do exactly what I tell you to do. I’m getting you out of here.”

EPILOGUE: MEANWHILE

When Yancey Atwood heard the fire-alarm go off from the safety of the classroom he was lounging in, he knew that the secret police kids were going after his protege Cynthia. Not that he was worried about her safety. Scrappy kid could fight! Not only had he been teaching her his technique, but the sad old lady cop and the rich mob guy had been sharing their skills as well. He had total confidence in her ability to survive, just as long as the A-Class agents didn’t involve themselves-- especially the psychic. Cynthia was a bright girl. She reminded him of himself.

No, now was not the time to worry about Cynthia. Now was the time to get the Teleporter without raising Silas’s suspicions. The chaos would make it easy to look like he had run away.

Yancey sipped on his 3rd energy drink of the day. “Hey Harper,” he said to his companion. “Let’s get this show on the road, bud. Time to grab your chubby boyfriend and blow this popsicle stand.” He wondered if he was mixing metaphors but didn’t care enough to correct himself.

Harper Malena, who was known as “Echo” to their little secret police pals until Yancey had brilliantly orchestrated their escape, didn’t say anything. So quiet. They didn’t have much going on upstairs, it showed in their blank and glazed over face. Sometimes he wasn’t sure why he had bothered with them as long as he had, but they were useful in their own way. And he knew for sure that they cared about the Teleporter known as ‘Bubblegum’ (stupid name) more than they cared about their own life.

Out of habit, they raised their hands to start signing, but then put them back down. Yancey couldn’t read sign language and always forced them to speak if they had something to say. Looked like whatever it was wasn’t that important.

Yancey smiled and sipped on his drink. He couldn’t help but laugh.

That Bubblegum guy was about to get the shock of his life.

#writing

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