#this is a relatively sober start (hah!) but the plan is for things to get significantly trashier as the night progresses

[froizetta]

WIP Wednesday (depending on timezone)

It's long past midnight for me but, in the spirit of the late great Jimmy Buffett, it's WIP Wednesday somewhere! Specifically, west of the Atlantic. So, you know. Still counts.

Here's the start of another superbat WIP, in which Bruce and Clark have an ill-advised and messy girls' night out together as 30-something year old men. It's like the Hangover, except with fewer and very different hijinks and considerably more angst and also gay pining. (It's nothing like the Hangover.)

When Clark walked into Bruce’s study on a Thursday evening, Bruce could tell immediately that something was off. It wasn’t that he looked sad or anxious, exactly, just…bland. Clark went through life with a near-permanent expression of mild amusement, like he was in on a private joke no-one else knew – which was, incidentally, not uncommonly true. On anyone else it would feel condescending or smug, but on Clark it made people feel like he was letting them in on the secret in some small way. Even if they still didn’t know what it was.

Clark didn’t look that way now. His smile was as bright as ever, but there was something lifeless to it. Like for once he was the one out of the loop. With how well Bruce knew him by now, its absence was almost disconcerting, an uncanny valley of his usual exuberance.

And then, of course, there was also:

“Hey, Bruce! Wanna grab a drink?”

Bruce leaned back in his chair and regarded him coolly. Indeed, the evidence was all but overwhelming.

“You don’t drink,” he replied.

“Do too,” Clark protested.

“Since when?”

“Since, you know. The normal time people start drinking,” Clark said, which was almost impressively unconvincing. “College, I think.”

“You drank in college,” Bruce said. It was more a statement of disbelief than a question.

Clark averted his eyes before replying, “A little.”

He didn’t look like he was even convincing himself now.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Why bother? You can’t even get drunk.”

Clark huffed. “Well, Bruce, it might surprise you to know that most of my friends in college didn’t actually know I was a superpowered alien. Someone would hand me a beer, and I’d sort of…nurse it, to blend in. It’s what people do in college.”

“I’m not sure pretending to drink a single lukewarm Budweiser in a frat house counts as ‘drinking’.”

Clark bristled, eyes darkening with irritation. “Well, maybe I wanted to branch out a little! I don’t see why this has to be a damn interrogation,” he snapped, which was definitely a harsher response than Bruce would normally expected. Bruce regarded him mutely, watched as he sagged against the doorframe and let out a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face.

There was no sign of that false-bright smile any longer. The veneer was well and truly cracked now.

“Sorry,” Clark said, genuine regret in his voice. “I overreacted. I’m a little…on edge right now.”

“I can see that,” Bruce said, carefully placid. He considered the hunched shoulders, the dullness in his eyes. This was something, alright.

He tried to keep his tone gentle as he probed, “Did something happen?”

Clark’s lips quirked, wry. “You mean you don’t already know?”

“I might,” Bruce admitted. “But for the sake of the conversation, why don’t we assume I have better things to do than stalk you and go from there?”

“Don’t try to kid, B. I know how much you love stalking people,” Clark said lightly. But the teasing edge to his voice was a blunted imitation of his usual. Bruce held his tongue and, after a long pause, Clark’s lips thinned.

“Lois broke up with me,” he said eventually, quietly.

Ah. So it was that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce said. Clark’s mouth flickered into a weak smile. Clearly, Bruce wasn’t fooling either of them. “Did she give a reason?”

He let out a tired sigh. “Yup. She said I wasn’t putting her first.”

“Hm. Kind of inevitable when you’re dating a superhero.”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“And did you tell her that?”

Clark’s mouth twisted. “I did,” he said, eyes boring a hole into the floor near his feet. If he stared any harder, Bruce would start worrying about scorch marks in his rug.

Bruce waited again. Clark’s mouth worked as if he had something to say, but after a few long seconds he stayed stubbornly silent. Reluctant to talk, then. And, as was evident from the rest of his demeanor, tired, restless and maybe a little bitter. Nothing unexpected within the context of a recent break-up.

Bruce steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “I see. And you think alcohol will be the solution. So, you want...what? Oblivion? Liquid courage, so you can win her back?”

Clark sighed tiredly. Finally stepping fully over the threshold, he walked towards the desk then slumped against the edge with his arms folded and shoulders hunched. “Neither? ‘Oblivion’ sounds a little dramatic. I mean geez, I’m not that far gone.”

Bruce tipped his head towards the glass-fronted cabinet near his desk and lightly observed, “That’s just as well. I’m not sure my collection of scotch will give a man of your constitution much of either.”

“Believe it or not, I had thought of that,” Clark said dryly. “I just wanted...” He trailed off with a frown, then waved a hand in the air with a soft grunt of frustration. “I don't know how to put it, exactly. Just, you know. The atmosphere.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “The atmosphere,” he repeated.

“Yeah. I can’t do the being drunk part, but isn’t there a kind of…atmosphere with it all?” Clark said with a helpless little shrug. “Like, you know, on TV when a guy gets dumped, his buddy comes ‘round, slaps him on the back and takes him out for a beer. And then the buddy says, ‘Women, huh?’ or something like that, and then they laugh, and then everyone feels magically better. Like that.”

Bruce suppressed a private smile. “Oh, right. That atmosphere.”

“I mean, isn’t that what people do?”

“Some people,” Bruce said with a shrug. “But unfortunately for you, I think the whole ‘getting drunk’ part is pretty integral to creating said atmosphere.”

“Oh,” Clark said, disappointed. “Really?”

“Insofar as it can make one’s problems feel more distant for a while, yes,” Bruce explained neutrally. “There’s a reason the writers put them in a bar and not a coffee shop. And that reason is mostly chemical.”

“Ah. That…makes sense. Then, so much for that plan, I guess.” He was chuckling a little as he said it, but there was a weary edge to it. His hands, which had been gripping the edge of the desk, went slack as the nervous energy he’d had when he arrived had drained away. What was left was a subtle exhaustion, a gentle furrow in his brow marring the usually noble lines of his profile.

“Not a drink, then,” he said wearily. “Something else? I don’t really care, just…something.”

Bruce felt his chest tighten slightly. He always hated seeing Clark like this. It felt viscerally wrong for a man as unaccountably good as Clark to look anything less than perfectly content.

Maybe he should have said something sooner. And he would have, if he trusted himself with this. But Bruce’s real skill, the skill that allowed him to fight alongside aliens and metahumans and demigods as their equal, was this: while he knew his strengths, he also knew, exhaustively and completely, what made him weak.

Clark made him weak. He’d already decided, days ago now, that a half-hearted attempt at comfort in the wake of all this would only make matters worse. That the best thing would be to leave well enough alone. After all, there was a non-zero chance that Clark, who was practically a walking, talking lie detector, would notice that Bruce wasn’t being entirely honest when he told him he was sorry that he and Lois had broken up. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Clark figured out why that was.

Clark had other friends. He had his family. Someone— Anyone else would be a better shoulder to cry on.

But Clark had come to him. This wasn’t the time for weakness.

[wolfstar-supremacy-innit]

Spilling secrets: Remus' confession

Wolfstar one shot in which Remus is blackout drunk and reveals his feelings to Sirius. Loosely based on this lovely post. Sirius' POV, 2.2k words.

I will probably write another one shot, with the roles reversed (Spilling secrets: Sirius' confession), but don't hold me to that. :)

Enjoy lovelies <3

With a sizable effort, James and Sirius finally managed to shove Remus into his bed. Getting him up the stairs alone took 10 minutes. Remus kept stumbling back down towards the common room when the two other boys paused to take a breath from propping him up, before they realized there’s no letting go of Remus if they plan on getting him to the dorm before sunrise. He stirred in the bed for some time, but ultimately sprawled out on the sheets with a content smile on his face.

James and Sirius released monumental sighs of relief. The party downstairs was still in full swing, but both of them effectively sobered up from the bloody grapple they just endured.

“Bloody hell, the snockered bugger,” Sirius exclaimed wiping his forehead with his forearm. James laughed breathlessly at his choice of words.

“Right you are. You going back down?”

“Nah, I’m about ready to be dead asleep for the next three days after that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They barely changed out of their clothes when Remus suddenly exclaimed from under the covers: “Ugh, God!” The other two boys slowly turned to him. What now, Sirius thought. Remus irritably chucked the blanket away from his head, all the way to his waist. “Why does he have to be so fucking fit?!” James and Sirius exchanged an intrigued look, growing more amused by the second. Remus rarely, or essentially never made such comments. “With his fucking hands, and soft hair and bloody earrings, Jesus,” he continued muttering angrily, but the words became unintelligible as he turned over and stuck his face into the fluffy pillow.

“Who, Moony,” James asked.

“Fucking, Sirius!”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, Moony, I’m here. Who’s fit?” But it kinda seemed Remus didn’t truly comprehend that he was in the room with people he knew.

“I told you. Sirius,” he continued, face still stuck in the pillow.

“Oh fucking hell. You didn’t tell me anything, mate.”

“Sirius is fucking fit, you idiot,” Remus slurred, voice muffled. He released a loud, annoyed groan, then: “I wanna shag him through the fucking wall.”

A dreadful, resounding silence iced over the room. Sirius felt blazing red heat crawling up his body from the pit of his stomach and settling rather heavily on his cheeks. Did he get that right? Seconds seemed to stretch as Sirius willed his mind to comprehend what he had just heard.

As if snapping both James and Sirius out of a trance, soft snores diffused over the room and James broke into quiet, intense giggles. Sirius felt hot all over with a feeling very very remotely familiar to him: embarrassment. You could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of things that embarrassed Sirius Black, but boy, was this one of them. Not to mention the boner that was solemnly threatening to make a presence. “Merlin’s sock on a stick, Moony,” he said, nonplussed.

James managed to rein in his laughter enough to breathe out: “You are never going to live this down.”

“And if I shag him on your bed? Will I live it down then?” That seemed to sober James up like a downpour of ice water.

“Holy shit. Do you want to?”

“And what if I do?”

“N-nothing. T- that’s great for you lads, then,” James stammered, obviously bewildered.

“Alright then.” Sirius stepped towards Remus’ bed and pushed his shoulder back to roll him away from the pillow that was threateningly muffling his breathing. “So he doesn’t suffocate, the idiot.”

Without another word, the two boys got into their respective beds and drew the curtains. Sirius lay there, on top of the covers, staring at the drapes with large eyes. He shifted. Yep, an undignified boner was indubitably tenting his pajama bottoms. His heart was hammering, mind buzzing. Moony actually looked at him like that. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Or was he brain-dead pissed and just speaking nonsense? He felt a heavy lump of disappointment settle in his stomach.

“Padfoot,” came a voice from James’ bed. Sirius made a questioning sound. “Did you actually mean that? About Moony?”

Pause. “Yeah. I did.”

James cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay, cool. Cool, cool. Um, Padfoot?”

“Yeah?”

“You never told me you, um. You liked blokes.”

“Yeah, sorry. I told you now. Is that alright?” There was a silence that made Sirius’ mind stir with fear until he heard rustling and then a body jumped on him, encompassing him in a bone-crushing hug. Boy, was Sirius glad his boner dissipated in the panic of waiting for his best friend’s reaction.

“Of course it’s alright, you git!” Relief filled Sirius as a face-splitting grin stretched his mouth. Pulling apart after a few moments, they sat cross-legged across each other. “And Moony, blimey. What a catch, good on you, Sirius.”

“Hah. Well... We’ll se what the morning light brings.”

“Oh, shut it. Don’t go all poetic on me in the wee hours of the night. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Sirius flopped around in bed the most of the night. Shortly after James returned to his own four-poster, Peter stumbled in from downstairs and flung himself into bed. Sirius couldn’t will his brain to quiet down enough to fall asleep for a long while. When he finally concluded all of the other boys were sound asleep, he resolved to have a wank thinking about no other than gorgeous, incredible Remus, laying just a couple of meters to the right, snoring away his insobriety. Well, what else was new?

<><><><><>

Sirius, Peter and Remus were sitting at breakfast, exchanging only a few words apart from ‘will you pass me that tray?’ The other two moved sluggishly with lidded eyes, but Sirius was restless. He kept shifting in his seat, shaking his knee under the table and taking bites of food too large to chew. When they woke up that morning like a bunch raised from the dead, Remus made it relatively clear that he, in fact, did not recall most of the party, let alone the atomic bomb he dropped to James and Sirius the previous night. James just smacked Sirius’ shoulder in consolation and left for the showers without saying a word.

Sirius needed to tell Remus and he needed to do it soon, or he thought his head might detach itself from his shoulders. Or he might vomit his heart out. Either way, Remus was sitting there, unsuspecting, looking heavenly with his wild bedhead and watery eyes and Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Thankfully, the others seemingly didn’t notice.

James plopped on the bench next to Sirius, pulling his attention towards himself. He took a double look at Sirius and made a show of scanning him up and down. “Bloody hell, Padfoot. Don’t you look fucking fit this morning?” Sirius immediately caught his drift, Remus’ words from the previous night etched in his brain like a carving. Test the waters a little. He smiled as James clapped him on the shoulder.

“Why thank you, Prongs.”

Remus’ brows furrowed as his eyes flickered between the two boys in front of him, then went back to eating with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah, like your hands and hair. Soft hair,” James corrected himself quickly, “and your earrings. Merlin, don’t get me started on your earrings.” Sirius felt himself blushing rapidly, remembering exactly where those words came from. Remus was gawking at James, hand holding a fork stopping mid-air. He and Peter looked at each other. Peter shrugged.

“Aw, thank you, Prongs. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, you probably will be later tonight,” James mumbled quietly and Sirius choked on his food, covering it up with a cough, then elbowed the boy next to him in the ribs.

“You two tryna tell us something?” Peter squinted at them.

James mock gasped. “Can’t I compliment my best mates?”

“You never compliment me like that. Or Moony,” said Peter.

“Don’t be jealous, Wormy. Everyone knows I’m simply irresistible,” Sirius chimed in, flashing a charming smile. Remus remained suspiciously silent, glancing between the three other boys.

A little while later as James and Peter engaged in a heated discussion about the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, Sirius seized his opportunity. “Hey Moons, you finished? I need to talk to you in the dorm.” Remus nodded and they slipped out of the Great Hall and headed for Gryffindor tower. Sirius was so jittery, he felt like somebody had hooked him up to a power plant and cranked up the voltage. He could easily make an absolute buffoon out of himself if Remus was just mumbling rubbish the previous night. They barely spoke all the way to the common room, except for Remus commenting on his dreadful hangover headache. When they arrived to the dorm, Sirius started unconsciously wringing his hands. Remus plopped on his bed casually and said: “What’d you want to talk about, Pads?”

Sirius sat next to him on the bed, heartbeat through the roof. “Right. Yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat in a pitiful attempt to give himself more time to get the sentence out of his mouth. “Yeah, so... You said something last night. When you were plastered.”

Remus’ face effectively blanched. “What?”

“Well, you were properly pissed, so maybe it was just rubbish...”

“What did I say, Sirius?”

“Okay, so...” He cleared his throat again. “You remember what James said to me when he came to breakfast this morning?” Remus just stared with wide eyes. “Well, basically that... And- and some other things.”

Remus made a face, then flopped face-first into the pillow. “Oh no. What other things?”

Sirius released a nervous chuckle. He started stammering like no bloody aristocrat ever, his effortless confidence long evaporated. Nobody made that happen like Remus. Nobody made that happen except Remus. “Oh, bugger,” were the first coherent words he managed to get out. Remus mumbled a ‘Jesus Christ’ into the pillow.

“You said you wanted to shag me.” The silence was deafening to poor Sirius who awaited an answer. He almost reached out to put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder, when Remus started laughing short, muffled giggles that shook his back. Dread struck Sirius.

“Well. I’m the biggest dumbass in England. Fantastic.”

“Did you not mean it?” His voice must have resonated with worry because Remus finally rolled a little to look at him for the first time in minutes.

“Did you want me to mean it?”

“What if I did?”

“Well that would probably be good, because I’m barely keeping myself from jumping your bones.”

Sirius barked out a laugh followed closely by a sigh of relief. “Yes, I bloody well wanted it.” Remus gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position. Sirius was slightly unsure what he was supposed to do, and it seemed like the other boy was too. Trying to take initiative, Sirius lifted his hand to place it on Remus’ shoulder, then changed his mind, going for his cheek, but chickened out at the last second and dropped it back on the bed. They laughed awkwardly. “Smooth,” Remus said. “Shut up. I’m nervous,” Sirius replied.

Remus huffed out another laugh and straightened the collar of his dress shirt as he said: “Okay.” He scooted closer to Sirius on the bed and actually put a gentle hand on his cheek. They stared at each other and Sirius felt pure, all encompassing giddiness simmering in his body, making his fingertips tingle. When their lips finally met, the kiss was delicate and tentative, like feet dipping into unknown waters. After a while, they both started smiling against each other’s mouth and Sirius’ heart fluttered with the warmth that consumed him. Feeling bolder, he licked Remus’ lower lip and he responded at once, gliding their tongues together. Oh, okay, boner again, then. When they pulled apart, Sirius said: “Yep, I’m definitely gay.” Remus laughed, bowing his head and resting it on Sirius’ shoulder.

“I’m that good?”

“That you are,” Sirius responded without missing a beat. He brought Remus’ head back up with a hand on his neck, then pushed him backwards onto the bed with a forceful kiss. He threw a leg over the other boy, straddling his hips. Remus mumbled an ‘mmm’ into his mouth.

“As much I want to do this, and trust me, you’ve no idea how much, we have Potions in five minutes,” Remus said, pulling away. Sirius just resumed kissing him, then replied: “I reckon I might last shorter than that.” The tawny-haired boy chuckled, but still pushed him off. “I’d rather do it when we have more time. And I’m not too keen on doing detention tonight, when I could be snogging you in some empty classroom.” Sirius grinned. “I like the way you think, Mr. Moony.”

As they hurried down a corridor, Sirius remembered. “Oh, yeah. One more thing. James was there with me last night when you professed your undying attraction to me.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake.”

I am kinda proud of this, hope you like it as much as I do. I thought it was funny and I just love the idea of the usually overly confident, heartthrob Sirius completely losing his cool around Remus and also awkward teenage boys being dumbasses.

[missmensis]

no gods, no masters, iii.

Pairing: Benny x F!Courier

read ch. 1 here, read ch. 2 here. read ch. 3 on ao3.

They were all feeling a bit beaten-up after fending off the Legion; the victory was just that, but it felt hollow. They'd be sending assassins after Ava until there were none of them left or she kicked the bucket. The latter was unlikely. She was being quiet as usual, but this quiet felt different. She wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder, a vacant stare in her eye as she did so, and her pace had slowed down considerably compared to the last few days.

The ambush had taken more of their time and energy than they'd planned, and they decided to stop at the 188 Trading Post for the night. There were a handful of NCR soldiers occupying the spot, so it'd be safer than just stopping on the side of the road or off the trail. There were no free beds to spare, but all they needed was a relatively safe place where they wouldn't have to sleep with one eye open; nobody was new to the occasional necessity of sleeping on the ground.

Once they found their own little area to hold up for the evening, the Courier sat down to rest and make a fire. They gave her some space. Boone pulled Benny aside, far enough so that Ava wouldn't hear.

"Right, so," Benny stuck his wrists out in front of Boone, "Gonna leash me back up, huh?"

Boone shook his head, "Actually, no. At least... not now, anyway. That's up to her. About today-"

"Oh, yeah," Benny chewed his lip, taking the gun out of his waistband, "Here you go."

He held it out for the other man to take, but Boone waved his hand, "Keep it. For here. Just in case."

Benny gave him a funny look, "You sure, cat?"

"Yeah," He nodded, glancing behind Benny in Ava's direction, "Just... watch her, alright? She's hurting."

"I will-" Benny moved to stick the pistol back in his pants, but not before Boone grabbed his arm.

"Take advantage, or try anything and I swear to god," Boone said, lowering his shades to look Benny straight in the eye, "I'm not far away. I will be watching, and I will put a bullet in you."

"You're gonna have to come up with a new threat," Benny replied with ire, "That one's getting stale, dig?"

"Be less of an asshole and then maybe I won't have to threaten you." Boone rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He whistled for Rex, who trotted to the sniper's side and followed along obediently to keep watch.

Boone's 10mm in hand, Benny made his way back to check on Ava. He stashed the gun in the back of his waistband again, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. At least, not tonight, anyway.

Ava was sitting in front of the small campfire she'd made, her legs splayed out in front of her, the toes of her boots tapping together to some beat only she could hear. There was a bottle of whiskey in her lap, and it looked like she was making solid headway on it.

"Hey, hey," Benny crouched down next to her, "What's shakin'?"

"Benny," She turned to him, a dazed smile on her face, "I’m trying to get drunk. Shakin' with you?"

"Ah, nothin' much," He settled down, stretching his legs out next to hers, "Gettin' smashed, huh? Can I get some of that?"

"Mmmmmhm," She hummed, handing him the bottle and watching as he took a deep swig, "It's good shit."

"It's... not bad," Benny swished it around a bit before swallowing, "Got better shit at the Tops, though."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so high and mighty at the Tops, aren't you," Ava poked him hard in the side with her finger, her eyes hazy, "'Benny's gonna show you the Tops', hah."

"Shut up," He snickered, "I did, though. The dent in that mattress was permanent."

She looked over at him, the light from the fire dancing on her features, "I remember."

It was astonishing how terrifyingly stunning she was. That handful of months ago now, when she'd been kneeling on the ground in front of him, her life flashing before her eyes, she'd just looked like a kid, nothing more than a clueless girl who had no idea what kind of package she was carrying.

How had that not been enough in itself to make him reconsider what he’d been doing at the time? He hadn't even thought twice; once he had that chip between his fingers, it was a done deal. He could've let her go, she probably wouldn't have come looking. Even the Great Khans had reservations about the whole thing, but it hadn't stopped him. Shit. He was a piece of shit, an untrustworthy fink, and he knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it.

Benny looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Benny rolled his eyes, "Good goddamn lord, woman."

"I'm fucking with you," Ava mused, "Go ahead."

"Last night in Novac. And... earlier today," Benny started carefully, "You, uh, kinda freaked. You looked really messed up."

Ava looked down at her hands, averting her gaze, "Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Ah.... yeah... so, my head does that every now and then," She answered with tight lips, "Ever since... y'know, I got a bullet to the brain from this checkered bastard I know."

"Right," He said guiltily, "Shit."

What could he say that wouldn't sound stupid or disingenuous? He'd shot her in the fucking head and now she was living with the consequences. God, there was a lot he wanted to tell her, but none of it would come out the way he wanted it to.

He sat next to her, quietly cursing himself when she spoke up again, "I get these like... migraines mixed with small bursts of panic attacks. I don't understand them. I've even asked a doc and he doesn't know. I have dreams all the time about people that I don’t recognize. I see their faces and it’s like I’m supposed to know them and I just don’t," She sighed, the heaviness of the conversation beginning to sober her, “And even when I’m awake, sometimes, I see them, too. In the back corner of a mirror, in the desert heat, they're just watching me. Like I'm riding on Daytripper in a bad way, but I'm stone-cold sober. I'm living with ghosts, Benny. People I'm supposed to know, to feel something for, but all they do is confuse me and make my head spin."

Benny frowned, "You don't remember them. Not at all?"

"No. Don't even know if they're dead or alive. It's not like anybody's come looking for me," Ava shook her head, taking a small yellow and green box out of her pocket that said MENTATS on it in rusted red lettering, "The way I see it, everyone from my past is dead, or I'm dead to them. Or I'm just not someone worth searching for."

She said it with bitterness, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to the horizon as she popped a Mentat on her tongue.

"Do they help?" Benny asked, gesturing to the box of chems as Ava rubbed her thumb across the letters.

"Kinda? I mean, everything from before Goodsprings is a blank. I haven't forgotten anybody I've met since then, but I get these, like, little flashes of moments that seem like they're mine, but they're not. At least, not mine anymore. That's when it hurts. When it turns into something like what happened today. I saw somewhere else, like here, but worse. More desolate, if you can believe that. It was like the whole place was in pain, screaming at me. Kinda think it's better that I don't remember."

She shoved the Mentats back into her pocket and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she filled herself with the dry Mojave air, "Everything before Goodsprings doesn't matter anymore, not really. Who I was before is gone. I just want to make sure I remember who I am now."

There was a beat of silence, the two of them just sitting and staring at the fire as the wind began to pick up around them. Ava tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she stared at the sun slowly making its way towards the edge of the world.

"I'll make sure you don't forget," Benny said quietly, "Been a goddamn fink to you so... I owe you that much. I'll never stop being sorry. I mean that."

Ava turned her head to look over at him, her brows slightly raised in disbelief at his words.

"And for what it's worth, if anything at all," He continued, "I think you're someone worth searching for."

Her eyes softened; he'd never seen her look at him that way before. It was something like... fondness? Appreciation? A lapse in judgment from the whisky and chems? Whatever it was, it pulled at the corners of his mouth. Ava smiled back, the first real one he'd ever seen from her, and it was infectious. Her cheeks dimpled, and she looked almost a little nervous before she settled into it, which made Benny wonder just how many reasons she'd even have to smile these days. A gust of wind blew through their camp, and Ava visibly shivered. Wordlessly, Benny shrugged his jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

"I'm still really fuckin' mad at you," She whispered, "But thank you, Benny."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she scooted closer to him so that their sides were touching. Ava reached for his arm and gently slung it over her shoulders as she rested her head against his chest. He was stiff for a moment, not quite sure if this was a sick joke or not, but when she didn't do anything else besides lean into him, he finally relaxed.

The girl knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it; he dug that.

They sat for a while, neither of them saying a word, as the sky grew darker and darker. Vegas glowed like a lantern off in the distance, a stark contrast to the rest of the Mojave bathed in black. With how brightly the skyline shone, the stars had a hard time competing, even though the sky was littered with them. It wasn't often that Benny spent a night out in the dust - that was now more a thing relegated to a former life - and though he wasn't one to live in the past, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he stared up at the constellations. Years of his life spent as a nomad walking the Mojave with the Boot Riders, countless nights just like this, and how quickly he'd tossed it all aside for caps and comfort. He'd have done all that again, he knew, but as he felt Ava relax fully against him, he had more than one regret in the back of his mind. Benny was careful as he glanced down at her, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open as she slept soundly on his shoulder, and gently moved some of the hair away from her face. As he did, his eyes caught the edge of the scar from the bullet.

Yeah, sure-as-shit, more than one regret.

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Five)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Author: Gumnut

23 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 1986

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97 A little shorter than usual, but at least you get it in one day instead of having to wait several and besides, it stopped itself there. More conversations in this. I promise the rest of the boys will make an appearance soon. I was pondering a situation at the end involving John, but I figured you’d all kill me if I put a hole in TB5 or crashed TB3, so I didn’t :D I hope you realise how much effort is being put in to not blow anything up here :D Many, many thanks for all your wonderful support and particularly regarding Em. I wasn’t sure how well I could write her, but I’ve received lots of very kind comments, so thank you ever so much ::giant group hug::

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Virgil shook himself once he made it into the hallway. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all, other than he was definitely going to have words with his brother.

Kay seemed to be forming a friendship with the doctor and as far as he was concerned, that was something to be encouraged, despite the conspiracies likely in his future. He had wondered for years if locking themselves away on an island was a good thing, particularly for his sister and grandmother. The socialising options were almost non-existent.

He frowned. In fact, he couldn’t recall Kay making any real connections with anyone since they had moved out there. Except perhaps Penny. Was that healthy? But then he hadn’t made any connections himself either. A sigh. Yet another sacrifice for International Rescue.

Skipping two floors and a couple of corridors, he approached Scott’s room. Jeremy was on duty today and Virgil smiled as the security guard held out the portable hand scanner. It could be considered ridiculous to go to this level of security, but when the Hood fools you once, you do your best to prevent it from happening again. The man’s death hadn’t changed Tracy security standard. Kayo wouldn’t allow it.

After confirming his biological identity, Virgil pulled his iR ident card out of his pocket and flashed it across the hospital’s security panel. The door slid silently open.

The room inside was dark. Virgil slipped in quietly, not wanting to disturb Scott if he was asleep.

Sleep was the main reason why his brother was so cranky in hospital. He found it almost impossible to get enough rest. Ever the light sleeper Scott would wake at the smallest disturbance. Whether it was years as a pseudo-parent to his younger siblings or as an acquired response due to the Air Force or International Rescue, his big brother could go from a dead sleep to fully alert in a split second. Useful as an emergency responder, a pain in the ass in hospital.

Virgil stepped lightly across the room to the chair beside his brother’s bed and sure enough, the older man was asleep. Scott’s hair was in his eyes and he lay on his right side, his left arm in a cast draped over his chest, keeping it clear of the injury in his abdomen. Virgil let out a breath and sat down as quietly as he could. He didn’t often see Scott asleep. Scott unconscious, yes, simply sleeping? It was rare to actually be able to approach him without waking him. The fact he wasn’t currently awake now was likely because the man was ill, medicated and exhausted.

Sliding his tablet from his back pocket, he sent a text to Kay and settled down to read his latest issue of Engineering International.

-o-o-o-

After Virgil left, the room was silent until Em broke it with a sigh. “I’m sorry I did that. Didn’t mean to blubber all over your fiancé.”

Kayo sat up straighter in her seat. “You’ve been through a lot. Be patient with yourself.”

“It shouldn’t matter. It’s not like I have lost anything I haven’t already lost.”

Kayo bit back a reply. The doctor obviously wasn’t ready to face the issue. “Give it time.”

Em didn’t answer, but looked away a moment before turning back, her expression calmer. “How is he really?”

Kayo blinked. “Virgil?” Em nodded. “His usual stubborn self. Why?”

“He comes across as a man who hides his concerns from others.”

Thoughtful. “Virgil...Virgil thinks he is protecting others from himself.” The idiot. “It’s a Tracy genetic fault.”

Em smiled. “So, I should expect similar from his brothers?”

“Oh, probably, with unique variations. Alan, you will find on the floor somewhere before he admits to it. Gordon is a drama queen. He’ll joke about breaking limbs before he admits to having broken one. John, well, where is John? Yes, he has admitted himself to hospital when you weren’t looking. And Scott? He’ll ask you ‘What injury?’ while picking pieces of himself off the floor.”

Em stared. “You really grew up with these guys, didn’t you.”

“Oh, yes. Yes I did.”

“Stressful?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She grinned and Em grinned back.

Silence fell for a moment and the doctor’s expression grew thoughtful. “Do they get injured a lot?”

That sobered Kayo. “Sometimes. It is risky work.”

“What about you?”

She shrugged. “A few times.”

“How do you cope?”

Kayo thought a moment. “We’re family. We make do.”

“But last time was different.” It wasn’t a question.

Kayo straightened her face, not really willing to speak about it. “He nearly died. Wasn’t the first time.” But it was the closest.

Em appeared to realise she was stepping on intensely private territory. “I’m sorry, it is none of my business. I just...I want to understand.” She frowned. “Why do you do it?”

“International Rescue?” Em nodded. “Because when you cry for help you need to know that there is someone out there who will answer.” It was almost a motto.

“But why you? Why your family? You sacrifice so much.”

“Who else is there? Should we step back and let someone else make the sacrifices? Somebody has to do it. We can, so we do.” A breath. “Why did you become a doctor?”

A small smile. “To help people.”

“There you go.”

Em looked down at the hands in the remains of her lap. “I will do everything I can to help Virgil, Kayo. I promise.”

Kayo smiled. “I had no doubt you would.

-o-o-o-

Some idiot in Brazil was making claims to have solved the relative ion versus reaction problem in fuel synthesizers again on page four. God, did any of these guys check their facts. Virgil had already assessed all six of those ratios for viability and they had all failed. The answer lay not in the ratio but in the temperature.  He and Brains had their synthesizers churning out fuel at three times the premium rate. They had to. They needed the quantity and the speed.

“Growling at your magazines again?”

Virgil looked up to find his brother smirking at him. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” A pause. “Well, maybe.” A one shouldered shrug.

“Sorry.”

“Eh, not your fault.” He looked about. “Where’s Kayo?”

“With Em.”

“Oh.”

“Uh huh.” He hesitated a moment, but then jumped in. “What’s with you telling her I was injured?”

“Uh.” And Scott was struggling to sit himself up. Virgil stood and helped his brother into an upright position. “Shit, that hurts.”

“Here, hold still while I shove this pillow...there. There you go. Comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Well?” Virgil sat back down.

“Well, what?”

“Why did you tell her I was injured? She told Kay.”

“I didn’t have to tell her. She asked me. Apparently, you’ve been favouring your right side and she noticed.” Virgil stared at him. “She was worried.”

“Sure.”

“It’s what happened!”

“Yeah, well, now Kay’s worried. I didn’t want to worry her.”

“Worried about what?” And Scott was frowning at him. “What exactly is wrong with you?”

Oh, crap.

“Nothing!” His big brother glared at him. “Nothing much.”

“Virgil.”

“It’s just a little ache.”

“Bullshit.”

“Scott-“

“You lie to me one more time and I’ll ground you until I get a medical report.”

“We can’t afford to do that.”

“I will not have you flying injured, Virgil! I don’t give a shit how little that injury is. Damnit, you almost died. Don’t you dare do that to me again!”

Hell. “Scott, calm down. I’m fine, honest. Just some aching muscle and puckered scars, that’s all.” He reached out and grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “I’m okay. Em’s going to help me with treatment.”

Scott stared up at him and Virgil could see the effects of medication in his eyes. Scott didn’t react quite like Virgil, falling asleep rather than confessing all his secrets, but it did make him a little more emotional.  “Honest, Scott. I’m okay.”

“You better be.”

“I am. Unlike you.”

His brother’s shoulders slumped under his fingers.

Virgil sighed. “Hey.” He squeezed gently.

“What?”

“You’ll get to go home soon.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Look after yourself, Virg. Please.”

“I do.”

Scott didn’t answer.

Virgil sighed, and let go of his brother, grabbing the chair and dragging it closer to the bed before sitting down. He dropped his elbows onto the bed and his chin onto his hands. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“What?”

“Kay’s making friends with Em as we speak.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Wants to invite her over for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. They’ve already cornered me. You’ll be next. She’s a doctor. With Kay in her back pocket, we’re doomed.”

Scott snorted, smirked, and started laughing.

Virgil looked up at him. “What’s so funny? I thought you were cranky.”

“You. You are so screwed.”

“Hah! Thanks.” He glared. “Remember you’ve got rehab ahead of you.”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah. We’re totally screwed.”

-o-o-o-

“Do you have any plans after leaving the hospital?”

Kayo’s expression was a polite enquiry, but Em sensed she had more to say. “I’ll go home, I guess. Get myself set up with a new array of mobility devices. I’m thinking maybe a hoverscoot rather than the chair. Less bulk.”

“What about Christmas?”

Em shrugged. “Can’t say I feel like celebrating this year.” At Kayo’s concerned expression, she hurried to amend. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, Virgil.” And Kayo was glaring at her.

“Okay, fine. Do you have any better suggestions?”

“I was thinking you could join us on Tracy Island.”

Em blinked and stared. “What?”

An arched eyebrow. “Would you like to join us for Christmas?”

“Go out and stay on Tracy Island, the super secret base of International Rescue and the Thunderbirds?”

“Of course, we’d have to blindfold you and drug you on the way over.”

Em stared.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

Kayo was smiling at her, not unkindly. “You would be very welcome.”

The thought filled her with amazement. The whole star struck feeling wrapping around her brain and buzzing her out. It was an amazing opportunity. She could thank Alan for his assistance. Meet the other brothers. Maybe see a Thunderbird. Finally meet Scott without him bleeding all over her.

That last cleared the fuzz. She had been enjoying talking to him. He had an interesting sense of humour and a lovely smile. Those eyes...

She shook herself. What the hell was she thinking? Look at yourself, Emaline. You’re a mess.

“Em? Are you okay?”

She forced a smile. “Um, thank you so much. I never expected...can I think about it?”

Kayo frowned a little. “Of course. Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m good.” And she suddenly wanted to be alone. To think or to cry, she wasn’t sure. Probably both.

The woman’s green eyes obviously didn’t believe her. “We’re not all that scary, you know.”

“It’s not you.” And she realised she had admitted there was a problem. Damn. At the inevitable arched eyebrow. “It’s me. I just...let me think about it. Please.”

Kayo reached out and took Em’s hand, holding it between her palms. Her skin was soft and her touch gentle. “Em, I know it sounds like a big ask. A bit dazzling perhaps. But really, we are just a family inviting you over for Christmas. Grandma can’t cook, so don’t eat anything she offers you. Virgil can bake and barbecue a great steak. Scott will burn the burgers, but he pours a good wine. Gordon may stick tinsel down the back of your shirt, but you have my permission to thump him. We...I would like your company. No expectations, just a time to relax and enjoy good conversation.”

Em stared at her and her voice came out small. “Okay.”

A genuine smile spread across Kayo’s face. It lit up her features. She squeezed her hand gently. “Thank you.”

Oh, shit, she’d just said yes.

Bloody hell.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five

Part Six

[essiefreds]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18,  Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22

Ah, yes, the fabled return that everyone has been longing for. 

Probably gonna do a part a week, ‘cause I don’t... have a surplus, like I did when I first started writing, so... keep an eye out, I suppose. 

Word Count: 2572

Tagged: @hotemotionalmess, @justtolkienabout, @uservalkyrie, @writing-for-a-chance, @hufflepeople, @alexfayer, @guaibi

You begged to be let in on the mission. You followed Director Fury, Deputy Director Hill, and Agent Coulson around for almost a full day, just listing all kinds of reasons that you should be allowed to go, most of which revolved around your position as the liaison between Stark Industries and Steve’s liaison to the 21st century. For the most part, the pleas were heard by deaf ears, but…

Eh, that had never stopped you before, especially when Steve had asked if you were coming along. What were you supposed to say, no?

Yes, you were, apparently.

“Oh.” Steve did not look happy with the response you had given him, which had been a resounding Of course I’m coming, are you kidding?

“What?” you asked, not really knowing if you wanted to hear his answer.

He shrugged, slightly, as he poked through his dresser, finding things to pack for the trip to wherever they were going, for however long. It was a mission, after all. There could never be a set time line.

“I don’t know,” he said, and he sounded genuine. “I mean, if it were anything else, I would definitely want you to come, but… this is all going to be super dangerous.”

“And you don’t think I can take care of myself?” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t offended by the implication. “I know you haven’t seen me fight yet, but let me assure you, I can.”

Steve smiled a little, glancing at you as he carried a few shirts to where he had a duffle bag sitting on his bed. “I’m not arguing with you,” he said. “Just… I’ll feel better, if you’re not there, I think. I’ll feel better knowing you’re here, relatively out of harm’s way.”

“That’s not it, though,” you concluded. You knew him well enough by this point to be able to tell when there was more to what he was saying. “What else is there, Rogers?”

Steve sighed, just loud enough for you to be able to hear it. “You might be a distraction,” he said. He sounded embarrassed, almost, and most definitely apologetic. “If you come along, I mean. I’m gonna need to focus all of my attention on doing whatever they need me to do, and if you’re there, my attention is going to be divided.”

You did not like being called a distraction, but you were touched that he felt as such. “I won’t be a distraction when I’m miles away?”

“No,” he said, turning around to face you after zipping the duffle bag closed. “You’ll be here, safe, like I said. That’s one less worry.”

“We don’t know for sure,” you reminded him. “SHIELD has no idea what Loki’s plan for the Tesseract is. What if New York ends up being in the line of an alien invasion? I won’t be “safe” then, will I?”

“Maybe not,” Steve replied, “but I’ll be here again, if that happens, and I’ll be able to protect you.” At your dry look, he smiled. “If necessary.”

You exhaled a breath, turning your gaze downwards. “Y/N?” Steve prompted. If you knew him well, he matched you on that same level.

“I guess you’re lucky, then,” you told him, quietly. “Director Fury said I don’t have clearance for this mission, that I’m supposed to stay here and keep an eye on things. I guess I’m the ground crew.”

You heard him cross the room to where you were standing, and he tilted your chin so that you were looking at him. His blue eyes were gentle with barely suppressed affection, but there was a hint of sadness in them, too.

“Somebody’s gotta stay, to keep an eye out for that invasion,” he said, smirking, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I guess if not me, who else?” You sobered up, again, and gazed at him. “Don’t… well, don’t do anything that you can’t do, and… come back safe.”

“I will,” he assured. “I’m not about to leave another girl behind.”

You stared at him, wondering if there were any last minute pieces of advice that you could give to him. He waited, patiently, like he expected something from you.

“Uh, Tony Stark’s kind of a dick,” you blurted, and the small grin on his face grew about tenfold. “I mean it. You’re not gonna agree with him a lot of the time, and it’s probably gonna make working together really difficult, but… you’ll be able to handle it. Just keep your head.” You paused. “And don’t insult his tower.”

“What tower?” Steve asked, amused.

“The Stark Tower.” You paused. “I guess it makes sense that you haven’t seen it. Hang on.” A quick search on your cell phone, and you had a picture of the tower up on the screen. You showed it to him. Immediately, he made a face.

“It’s… ugly.”

You laughed out loud, again, and you lowered your phone. “Yeah, see, don’t say that to him, ‘kay?” You slid your phone away into your pocket, again, and considered. “Uh… the helicarrier is nuts, so don’t be too freaked out by it.”

“I doubt I will be,” Steve commented. “It won’t be new territory by any means.”

“Hah,” you said, although without much infliction. He didn’t seem to notice. He was busy watching your face, as though trying to memorize it. You offered him a look complete with raised eyebrows, and he smiled again, softer this time.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just… taking it all in.”

You leaned up on your toes to kiss him. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, even as he picked up his bag. He held you close for several minutes, a couple of which were really not affordable, and then he let you go.

“I’ll, uh…” He pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. “I’ll miss you.”

“Yeah, well, take care of it quick, and then you can come back,” you retorted lightly, tapping him on the chest. Seeing the expression on his face, you exhaled a breath. “I’ll miss you too, Rogers.”

There was a knock on his apartment door, and you both turned in that direction. “Captain?” That was Agent Coulson, there to escort him to a quinjet that would fly him to SHIELD’s specialized helicarrier. “Time to head out.”

Steve looked back at you, placed kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and then he was gone.

You stood in the middle of his bedroom, arms wrapped around your middle. You hated how empty the apartment suddenly felt, how empty you felt alongside it. You worried the inside of your lip for a moment, wishing that there was some way of getting rid of the uncomfortable sensation. You’d never felt empty before. You’d been heartbroken, obviously, when your father had died. You’d experienced extreme sadness, after your very first cat had to be put down. But emptiness? That was a new one, but you were positive that was the only description you could give to what you were feeling.

You inhaled, slowly, glancing around his bedroom for a moment. It was not good, probably, how attached you were. Even with a relationship having been established between the two of you, wasn’t it too soon? Why were you taking this separation so badly, already? You’d only just recently stopped separating yourself from him. How was this any different from that decision?

I was the one to separate us, that first time. That was on me, it was optional. This is a lot different from that, because neither of us can make the choice to end the separation. It just has to happen, one way or another.

You shivered, involuntarily, and decided that it was time to go back to your own apartment.

Before you left his, however, you searched through his closet for something of his that you could take with you, as a sort of comfort item. You decided on a soft sweatshirt that had Brooklyn, New York written on it. You’d never seen him wear it, but it smelled remarkably like he did, his cologne and the charcoal that he used to draw.

You pulled the sweatshirt on over your head, and left his apartment, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before he was asking to draw you, again. You hadn’t let him, not at first. You’d thought it was weird, but maybe that had been a thing, back in the 1900s, just casual drawing of one another between friends. Jack had drawn Rose in Titanic, after all, but that had been raunchy as hell. Something inside of you said that wasn’t what Steve had had in mind, but all the same, you’d said no.

But he’d been persistent, and after about a month of working with him, you’d given in, because you were curious about his skill level. So, for the better part of a two-hour period, you’d sat reading, like he’d asked you to, and waited patiently as he drew. The end result had been so good, that you’d taken it home and placed it on your fridge; you weren’t allowed to hang frames in your apartment. If you were, the drawing would have a place of honor on your wall.

You sighed to yourself as you settled down behind the steering wheel of your car, and you did something that you hadn’t since your father had died; you prayed.

Please, keep him safe, and keep everyone else involved safe, too.

Steve rubbed at his eyes as he sat in a chair at the conference table located near the helicarrier’s bridge. He was the only one still present in the room, after the conversation that the entire team had just had. It had ended in a disagreement, which seemed to be a pattern for them, already. They’d only just started working together, too. Things were not boding well for their future as a cooperative group of people.

At least they’d got the guy. Loki was a strange one, and obviously not the most friendly. He was a bully. Steve hated bullies. He was locked away deep within the recesses of the helicarrier, however, probably already trying to think of a way to escape. The fact that his brother had come along, Thor, that didn’t help matters much, especially since he seemed set on taking Loki back to their home world for trial there.

Under any other circumstances, Steve probably would have agreed with him. Anything to get Loki off of Earth. However, they still had no idea where the Tesseract was. Knowing Loki’s plan was useless when they did not know the location of the thing he hoped to pull it off with. Hopefully, Stark and Banner would get on that sooner rather than later. He supposed he could sit in on their work, keep an eye out, but he honestly would not be able to understand any of the scientific stuff that they’d be working with, and he’d only be a distraction.

Stark did not like him. Steve had no idea why, but thanks to Y/N’s warning, he’d been expecting an attitude similar to the one that Stark currently possessed. It did not make it any easier to deal with him, but at least he wasn’t able to catch Steve off guard. He’d have to thank Y/N for that later.

He did not appreciate how much he missed you already. It had been… what, two days? Maybe even less than that, he wasn’t sure. The trip to Germany had thrown him off. Whatever it was, it felt like it had been years, and he’d slept through seventy. His separation anxiety should not be going wild the way it currently was. He chalked it up to the fact that the world was not yet safe, and that meant you weren’t either.

He lowered his hand to the table top, gazed down at the glass for a moment. Work needed to be done. The world needed to be made safe. You needed to be safe.

He pushed himself up from the table, sticking his hands into the pockets of the pants he was wearing. The best place to get work done was the lab where the Tesseract was being tracked. After all, the sooner the Tesseract was back in SHIELD’s hands, the sooner he’d back back with Y/N.

“Can I talk to him?”

Fury sighed on the other end of the line. “No,” he said. “He needs to focus on what’s happening here.”

You scowled down at the floor, before lifting your gaze towards the sky, which you could see through a nearby window. Somewhere overhead, miles apart from you, was the helicarrier that currently carried Steve, and the rest of the Avengers. It also carried the body of Agent Phil Coulson. This call from Director Fury was to inform you of his death.

You’d miss Coulson. He’d been a friendly guy, always ready with a joke, when the situation called for it. He’d also been a huge fan of Steve, something he’d no doubt expressed to the man himself. You could sense Steve’s horror and regret over the loss of Coulson, which was desperately why you wanted to speak to him.

“Please, sir,” you said, calmly. “Just for two minutes.”

“Y/LN, a god has just escaped from our custody, after wreaking havoc on the helicarrier,” Fury replied. “The last thing that Captain Rogers needs is for you to distract him.”

“I’m not going to!” you said, firmly. “Director Fury, I’m making this one single request of you. Can’t you grant it to me, after not allowing me clearance on the mission itself? Think of it as me checking on him to see if he’s still handling the 21st century.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. Finally, Fury cursed, under his breath, and then he said, “Two minutes.”

Relief blossomed in your chest, and you waited to hear Steve’s voice with anticipation.

“Y/N?”

God, he sounded so sad, but also relieved to know he was talking to you.

“Hey, Rogers,” you greeted, settling down on the edge of the bed in his apartment. You’d headed over there to clean, a little, since it had no doubt gotten dusty. “How’re you doing?”

“Could be better,” he admitted. “Losing a soldier is always hard.”

“I know. He’ll be missed.” You paused, suddenly not sure of what to say, when only three minutes prior, you’d had about eighty million things. “Uh… I miss you?”

He responded with a tired-sounding chuckle. “Yeah. I miss you too. Hopefully, we’ll be able to figure this out soon.” He paused. “And sign of an alien invasion?”

You smiled. “Not yet. Why, should I be expecting one?”

“Uh, maybe,” Steve said, and your smile faded. That had not sounded like a joke. “We’re working it out, as best we can.”

“Wait, so, aliens are an actual possibility?” You couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Aliens? Really?

“Y/N -“ He stopped, and fell silent. You heard someone speak to him. His reply was muffled, and then he was speaking to you again. “Gotta go. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

There were other things to say, but no time. “Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe.”

You had no idea whether or not he heard you, because the call had ended. You lowered your phone, sighing to yourself.

Aliens. What the fuck?