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madkovacs · 2 years ago

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Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

Requested by @witchygagirl - If you're still doing them can I request

You have a tattoo where your soulmate first touches you for Rick Flag

from this prompt list

Warnings: Heavy gun usage, gun fire, battle, blood, language, battle wounds

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The gunfire rings out around you as sand flies everywhere. If it wasn’t for the light of the continuous gunfire, you definitely wouldn’t be able to see. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in Spain, sipping on your sangria on the beach with men waiting for your beck and call. Instead, you’re in the middle of a gunfight on a random ass beach in South America, all because you killed a few people. Ok. Maybe a lot of people. Thus began your time in Belle Reve.

When Waller had initially come to you with the proposition, you had shunned her away, openly mocking her for ever assuming that you would join her little Task Force. With the more days that passed and the more people you saw leaving, you soon changed your mind, leading you to now. Hands wrapped tightly around your gun as you hide behind a rock, trying to cancel out the screams of your comrades.

Now you know why it’s called the Suicide Squad.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your commander yells at you, crashing beside you and catching his breath. “We need your help out there!”

You look over to him, eyes wide in panic as your lips slightly tremble. “I can’t. My power can’t activate under stress.”

“You’ve got to be fucking me.” Rick groans from beside you, reloading his gun as he shakes his head in disbelief. When he looks back at you, terrified, he realizes that you’re not joking. “Look at me. Look at me!” He grabs your face with his dirty hands and turns you to him. “This is life and death. Either you fight or you die and I don’t intend on letting any more of my people die. Understand?” You nod your head as he nods his head. “Ok good, on my mark, we’re going to make a run for some better cover. Ready?” He asks, getting into a crouching position as you follow suit, gripping onto your gun like your life depends on it. “Go!” You and him run through the gunfire, firing your own weapons back as you watch men fall to the ground. You feel a rush of pride but it’s short lived when you feel a searing hot pain rip through your leg, causing you to fall to the ground. You try to stand up, but fall short, your leg burning in pain causing you to let out a sharp cry of pain as you look down, the sand underneath your leg getting darker and darker. Just like your vision.

Hearing your cry of pain, Rick’s head whips back until he spots you lying on the sand, clutching your leg. He’s already clear of the gunfire and he could proceed with his mission, but there’s something about you that is preventing him from going forward. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself before fixing his gun and running back into the line of fire, making quick work to grab your ankle and drag you towards the bushes. “I hope I’m right about this.”

—-------

You wake up to birds chirping at people talking though you don’t know where you are. You remember being shot, and then dragged through the woods by Rick, but besides that, you have no clue what’s going on. Moving to sit up, a warm hand places itself on your shoulder, not letting your rise any higher than that. “Woah there, just relax, you’re safe.” You turn your head to the voice and see your commander sitting there with a soft smile on his face.

“Colonel Flag? What’s going on? Where are we?” He removes his hand from your shoulder and places it in his lap, but something is off about it. Did he always have that tattoo on his hand?

“We’re safe, that’s all that matters. We’re waiting for an evac off this hell hole,” he murmurs, looking around the makeshift tent as you nod, turning to look into the mirror on the desk across from you, confusion all over your face.

“What the hell is on my face?” You try to inspect it a little closer, but again, Rick’s hand pushes you back down, a blush on his face.

“Well, uh, you know how some people get tattoos where their soulmate touches them for the first time,” he comments as you nod your head. Of course you do. Everyone in the world knows that. And only some are lucky enough to have that. “I think we’re soulmates.”

“I must have a concussion because this can’t be real,” you comment, but he shakes his head, grabbing the mirror and holding up to your face, placing his hand next to the mirror. In the mirror you can see the exact same symbol on your face that’s on his hand.

“Concussion or not, it’s real.” He comments as the sound of a helicopter echoes in the distance, causing his head to look outside. “That sounds like our ride. We’ll discuss this later, ok?” You nod your head in confirmation as he gives you an awkward pat on the back, not really sure where to go, but at least you guys will have each other.

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General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @a-reader-and-a-writer

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madkovacs · 2 years ago

Text

Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

Requested by @witchygagirl - If you're still doing them can I request

You have a tattoo where your soulmate first touches you for Rick Flag

from this prompt list

Warnings: Heavy gun usage, gun fire, battle, blood, language, battle wounds

===========

Now you know why it’s called the Suicide Squad.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your commander yells at you, crashing beside you and catching his breath. “We need your help out there!”

You look over to him, eyes wide in panic as your lips slightly tremble. “I can’t. My power can’t activate under stress.”

—-------

“Colonel Flag? What’s going on? Where are we?” He removes his hand from your shoulder and places it in his lap, but something is off about it. Did he always have that tattoo on his hand?

“What the hell is on my face?” You try to inspect it a little closer, but again, Rick’s hand pushes you back down, a blush on his face.

===========

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @a-reader-and-a-writer

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madkovacs · 2 years ago

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capybara #130: pov he saw you holding a slice of watermelon

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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Acting was the first time I had a positive identity, the first time I had done something that I suspected I might be good at. But every time I would have to go on stage—as soon as I heard the audience murmur—I would throw up. I blacked out, I literally didn’t have a thought in my head. I thought, ‘Maybe this is my body telling me that I can’t do this. But the idea of quitting was just so depressing. I mean, everybody around me said I had changed since I found this path. It made me come alive as a person. It was everything. I went into it obsessed, like my life was dependent on it, I did it for five shows, didn’t stumble on a word. It’s that moment that I was able to overcome that demon. Happy 41st Birthday, Joel Kinnaman! (November 25th, 1979)

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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KNIVES OUT (2019) dir. Rian Johnson

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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It was super annoying trying to get anywhere around my city while they were filming this. Even though I got a good glimpse of everything during my commute it was frustrating when there were detours and things from road closures.

Now I am watching it and so giddy when I recognize the scenery and architecture that I pass by everyday.

iamgabrielluna: Joel and Tommy. These were taken the night we wrapped episode 1. It’s a honor to work with an actor like @pascalispunk. The combination of strength, heart, and playfulness he possesses is incredible and a pleasure to watch firsthand. I love you brother. Thanks for your phenomenal work. Episode 2 of @TheLastofUs airs tonight on @hbo and @hbomax!

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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Don't Go on That Date (Stephen Holder Drabble)

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder, f!reader

Summary: Your partner is not happy that you are going on a date with someone else. Will he admit why?

Word Count: 692

As you stood up from your desk, you asked, “Hey, Holder, I’m going to take off early so I can go home and change for my date. Can you finish up the paperwork on the Miller case and drop it off with the Lieutenant?”

Your partner grumbled irritably. “I ain’t your secretary or your errand boy. Finish that shit yourself.”

You were taken aback by his tone and his rejection of your request. Just moments before, the two of you had been laughing about some idiotic story he told you, and now he was acting like you had run over his dog. “What the hell! I finish your paperwork all the time! Besides, you’re the one who actually cuffed the guy. Your arrest, your paperwork. So, if anything I should be saying that to you.” You tossed the file at his chest angrily. “Now, I’m leaving. Hopefully, you’ll be over whatever put you in such a pissy mood by tomorrow.”

“Fine. Go. Have fun screwing that jackass.”

“I don’t need your permission and I’ll screw whoever I want!”

You grabbed your jacket and bag before storming over to the door. But just as you rested your hand on the handle, Holder’s voice called out from behind you. It was timid and soft, barely more than a whisper. “Don’t… don’t go on that date.”

You turned around to face him with an exasperated sigh. “Why?”

He wouldn’t meet your eye as he mumbled, “You know why.”

It took a second, but the realization of what he meant and why he was suddenly acting like this slowly dawned on you. As you walked back over to where he was slouched in his seat, you dropped your stuff on the desk. Leaning over, you place one hand on either of the armrests of the chair, essentially trapping him in place.

“Say it. If you don’t want me to go, I need you to say it.”

His leg began anxiously bouncing as his jaw tightened, but finally, he looked you straight in the eye and said, “I don’t want you to go on a date with that douche bag. You should be goin’ out with….with me.”

You stared at him in stunned silence before asking, “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Holder shrugged. “You’re my partner. Didn’t want to make things weird. But every time you go out with one of these jerks, it kills me a little more. Seein’ the way they treat you. I know I’m not the smartest, or the handsomest, or the most successful…but mama, I would treat you so good. I could make you feel so good.” He smiled as he slowly ran one of his fingers up and down your arm where it still rested on the armrests. You shivered slightly as his touch left goosebumps in its wake. But his smile dropped as he realized what he was doing, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

However, you grabbed it and wove your fingers into his. He looked up at you, eyes searching your face for some sort of sign about what this meant. “You really are an idiot, you know that?” He turned away, wounded by your words, but you turned his head back to face you so you could explain. “I was practically throwing myself at you for months, but you never seemed to notice. That’s the only reason I’ve been going on all these dates. I figured if you weren’t interested, I should try to find someone who was.”

He sat up straighter in the chair. “Yo, I’m interested. I’m so interested!”

“Well, in that case…” You dropped your hands from the armrests and lightly ghosted them over his thighs before straightening up and walking to your side of the desk. “I’m still going home to get ready for my date. Pick me up around 6?”

He nodded furiously as he scrambled to find the file so he could finish the report in time. Smiling happily, you grabbed your stuff and once again headed out of the office. And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief. Finally.

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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写輪眼のカカシ

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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Clowns

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder

Summary: Holder and you are trying to track down a suspect, but something about him is making Holder uncomfortable.

Word Count: 1987

TW: Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Chemical Burns, Past Trauma, Fear of Clowns, Language, Smoking

“Clowns…. why it gotta be clowns?” Holder mutters under his breath as he slams the car door shut and jams his hands into his pockets.

You smirk up at him as you begin walking down the boardwalk. “Okay, Indiana, what do you have against clowns?”

The two of you had been working a case for a few weeks now where bodies had been turning up with their faces burned and corroded away. After a lot of dead ends, you had finally caught a break. The only thing connecting all the victims was the fact they were parents of young children. And all of these young children could be tied back to a local actor, Trevor Moses, who dressed up like a clown for parties and festivals and such. When you found out he was working down at the pier at the annual seaside festival that was happening in a few days, you decided to check it out and see if he was there. Your partner had been acting strange ever since you had identified the suspect and now it seemed that you knew why.

Holder hunches over even further. “They’re creepy as fuck and what’s the point of ‘em anyway?”

“To make people laugh? To bring joy to our otherwise joyless lives? I don’t know. I never really got the appeal either, but you seem really bothered by them. Are you good to do this?”

“Shit. When’s the last time I let you down? I gotchu, girl.” He shoots you his trademark Holder smile, but you see it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You lightly grab the sleeve of his hoodie, stopping you both. “Hey, seriously Holder, it’s just a few simple questions. I can handle this on my own. If you need to hang back that’s fine. In fact, it might even be better. That way you can make sure no one suspicious is lurking around while I’m in there.”

It is a lame excuse and you both know it, but he nods. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one up. After taking a long drag from it, you notice he seems a little calmer than before.

You smile. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll meet you over by the Ferris Wheel.” When he nods again, you continue down the boardwalk until you reach the shop you were looking for.

The entire area was pretty much deserted seeing as the festival was still only half-constructed and all the workers had gone home for the day. But your intel said that Moses sometimes worked at the joke shop by the pier in addition to performing at the festival, so you might as well check it out.

As soon as you walk through the door, something feels off. The whole place smells faintly like bleach and yet, nothing looked like it had been cleaned in months. As you take another step farther into the store, a man comes out of the back room. He is wearing a traditional clown costume but with boots and a large coat over his polka-dotted attire. And even under all of the makeup, you recognize him as your suspect.

“Trevor Moses? I’m a detective with Seattle Homicide. I just have a few ques-”

Before you can finish, Moses charges forward, shoving you to the ground as he passes, and bolts out the door. You scramble back to your feet and take off after him. As you begin chasing him down the boardwalk, you catch Holder out of the corner of your eye, leaning against the Ferris Wheel, cigarette in his hand.

“Holder! He’s making a break for it!” you scream, never slowing for even an instant.

Your partner jumps in surprise, drops his cigarette, and takes off after you. But he is several hundred feet behind you and even with his long legs, you know it will take him time to catch up. So, you push yourself to run as fast as you possibly can, slowly closing the distance between you and Moses.

It takes until you are almost to the end of the boardwalk before you catch up to him. You reach out, fingers barely grazing his coat. But just as you think you have him, he whirls around, spraying you with the fake flower pinned to his lapel. It looks like the typical flower squirting water gag you had seen a million times with other clowns but the liquid that splashes onto your skin is not water. You manage to block most of the liquid with your left hand and arm, but it immediately begins burning as if on fire. Instinctively, you begin pawing at your skin with your right hand, but that just spreads the painful sensation there as well.

Moses takes off running again as you collapse to the ground in pain, frantically trying to rub the substance off on your shirt or jacket. But it is no use. Vaguely in the back of your mind, it clicks that this must have been how he killed the others, with a shot of acid to the face, and you are lucky you were able to block it. However, at that moment, you feel anything but lucky.

As tears begin quickly flowing down your face and you clutch your hands protectively against your chest, you feel Holder drop down next to you as he yells into his phone, “Officer down. I repeat, officer down! We need medical assistance at the pier right fuckin’ now!”

He tries to examine your injuries, but you push him off. Through gritted teeth, you growl, “Go! Don’t let him get away.” He hesitates, not wanting to leave you like this, but you scream at him, “GO!”

Holder jumps to his feet and takes off after Moses. You watch them both disappear around the corner, heading into the woods behind the pier. You roll onto your back, sobbing as the pain only seems to be intensifying. Your mind flashes to the mutilated faces of Moses’s other victims and you have to swallow the bile that you feel in your throat.

Suddenly, you hear multiple gunshots from two distinct guns coming from the woods in the direction Holder had just run. Then…. silence.

“Holder!” you scream, but there is no response. “HOLDER!”

When you still don’t hear anything, you try to push yourself up to your knees, but your hands and arms are too damaged and weak to give you enough leverage. So instead, you just collapse back to the ground, panting heavily. You squeeze your eyes shut and say a silent prayer that your partner is okay, though you know even if someone out there hears your plea it could already be too late.

But then, you hear a quick shuffling, and you glance up to see Holder limping quickly out of the woods and heading straight towards you. The left leg of his jeans is stained dark with blood, but he gives you a small smile when he sees you looking at him.

The ache in your chest eases slightly at the sight of your partner, but the pain in your hands is still just as intense. You try to stay strong as Holder collapses down next to you, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. Holder tries to reach for your hands, but you pull them away. “Don’t. I don’t want it to get on you.”

He thinks for a minute, then pulls off his hoodie and begins using it to gently rub your hands, trying to get some of the remaining acid off. When it doesn't seem to be helping much, he stands up, gathers you into his arms, and hobbles over to the dunk tank set up by the Ferris Wheel. Dipping his hoodie into the water, he begins trying to clear off your skin. While still excruciating, the water does seem to help slightly. You look around, trying to find something to distract you, and your eyes land on Holder’s bloody pants.

“How’s your leg?” you ask, jaw clenched.

“’S okay. Shot just winged it. Looks worse than it feels,” he mutters.

You hesitate a second before asking, “Is he….?”

He nods solemnly. “He pulled a gun. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You can see the conflict and pain etched on his face over what he had done. “Hey, you did what you had to do. He was going to shoot you… He did shoot you. And now he can’t hurt anyone else like this ever again.” You motion down at your hands before flinching when a flash of pain surges through them. “God! Why does it hurt this badly! Shouldn’t it be stopping by now?”

“I guess it takes some time to get it all off.” Holder says, but you can see the concern in his eyes as he stares down at your hands. You are trying your best not to look, but his face says it all. “Try not ta think about it.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done. I keep trying to think of something else, anything else, and it all comes back to the pain.” You let out another loud whimper as Holder rubs his wet fingers over your damaged skin.

He stares thoughtfully down at your hands for a moment before he finally says, “My moms took me to the circus when I was six. Liz was spendin’ the weekend at a friend’s, and she thought it would be a good bonding time for us or somethin’. And it was… until she forgot me. She just got bored and split, never gave me a second thought.” His eyes have a far-off, haunted look to them and you know whatever he is seeing at the moment, it isn’t you. “She just left….. and I was so fuckin’ scared. I started runnin’ around lookin’ for her and I stumbled into the tent where the clowns were gettin’ ready.”

He shudders at the memory. “They surrounded me, squeezin’ their fuckin’ red noses and tryin’ to make me shitty balloon animals. It was so loud and hectic and I just wanted my moms….”He trails off and you see tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes.

Then he shakes his head and uses his shoulder to wipe his face. “They finally called the ringmaster who then called the police. I hadda wait another few hours before they could finally track her down. She never even knew I was gone.” He sighs. “So, yeah. That’s why I fuckin’ hate clowns.”

“Holder….. I’m so sorry. No wonder you didn’t want to go in there and face him.”

“Yeah? And look where it landed you. If I had just manned up and gone with ya, this woulda never happened.” He gestures angrily to your hands.

You shake your head. “You don’t know that. He could have pulled the gun on both of us before we knew what was happening. Or he might have gone immediately for the acid when he saw there were two of us and then my arm might not have protected me. Holder, this isn’t your fault and you did nothing wrong. Like you said earlier, you never let me down. Ever. And you still had my back when I needed you. Just like you are doing right now. I mean, you were shot and all you care about is trying to help me. How could I ever ask for a better partner than that?”

Holder grins shyly at you. “Yeah…. I’m pretty great, huh?”

You chuckle just as you see the ambulance driving up. Holder picks you back up into his arms and limps over to it. And as they are loading you up to take you to the hospital, you nudge him with your foot. “You’re wrong, Holder. You’re not pretty great…. You’re the best.”

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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You're So Stubborn (Rick Flag Drabble)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: When you are left unconscious in the hospital after a mission, Rick must come to terms with his feelings before it is too late.

Word Count: 667

TW: Unconscious Reader, Hospital, Love Confession

Rick hesitated just outside your hospital room, part of him still too scared to go in. Through the window, he could see the bandages wrapped around a large percentage of your body and all the wires connecting you to various machines. At least they had taken you off the ventilator, but he couldn’t allow himself to feel relieved about this small improvement. He hadn’t seen any of your doctors or nurses today, so he hadn’t been updated on your progress. But after two days in a coma, he guessed there wasn’t much to update him on.

He cautiously took one step into the room. Then another. He kept going one halting step at a time until he reached the chair placed next to your bed. Sinking down into it, he stared at your peaceful face for a few minutes.

Finally, he reached out a gently grasped one of your hands. “Hey, darlin’….How ya doing? Stupid question, I guess. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner, but it’s just…hard…seeing you like this. And I don’t even know if you can hear me.”

He began slowly running his thumb across your knuckles, mindful of the tubes and wires attached to your hand. “You saved everyone you know. Because of your distraction, I was able to get the rest of the team out. You’re a hero, and I think I might even be able to convince Waller to knock extra time off your sentence for this. But you have to get better, you have to wake up.” But you didn’t stir.

Suddenly, Rick felt a wave of anger surge through his body. He jumped to his feet and began pacing around the room, rubbing a hand furiously across the back of his neck. “God, you are so stubborn! Why couldn’t you listen to me just once! You could have been killed and it would have been my fault! I was supposed to protect you! I was supposed to be the one who took one for the team, not you. Never you.” But just as quickly as the anger had overtaken him, it vanished leaving only a dull ache in its place. Standing at the foot of your bed, he hung his head as he whispered, “Please, darlin’, just wake up. I can’t lose you. I….I love you.”

“………Do you really mean that?”

Rick’s head shot up at the rasping sound of your voice. Through a mask of pain and tiredness, your eyes twinkled brightly at him, a smile dancing on your lips.

He stumbled back from the bed in shock. “What the hell? But-I thought you..”

“I woke up a few hours ago. I was actually a little disappointed you weren’t here when I opened my eyes, but better late than never.” You chuckled hoarsely, but then your face grew more serious. “Did you really mean it? Do you– do you love me?”

Rick looked at the floor, jaw clenched and hands tightening into fists. As glad as he was you were awake, he had never planned on telling you how he felt. After June, he didn’t know if he could handle the rejection.

However, you just reached over and took his hand. “Because I love you. I have since the day you saved me from those guards, when you taught me how to protect myself. And that’s why I did what I did. You’ve saved me so many times, and I just thought this time I would repay the favor. Protect the man I love.”

“I appreciate it darlin’ but don’t ever do that again. But I did mean what I said. I can’t lose you and…. I love you.” He gently placed a lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

You beamed at him but then shook your head with a small chuckle. “I’m so happy to hear you say those words……. Except, this now means I owe Harley $50. Turns out you should never bet against a former psychiatrist about someone’s feelings toward you.”

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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My Favorite Song

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder

Summary: When your boyfriend starts avoiding you, you try everything to figure out what went wrong.

Word Count: 1827

TW: Fluff with Slight Angst, Steamy Ending

"Ugh. Not this song again!" You reach for the skip button on your phone and try desperately to hit it with your elbow since your hands are still covered in flour from the pie you were making.

Holder chuckles as he reaches around you to skip the song. "What up? I thought you loved this one?”

"I did, until about the fiftieth time I heard it. But I was an idiot and listened to it on repeat so many times that now I am just sick of it."

Holder glances at you, face scrunched in confusion, “Really? Why’d you do that?”

“It’s not that I did it on purpose. I just loved it so much that I wanted to hear it over and over again. By the time I realized I was tired of it, I had already gotten to the point that I hated it. I do the same with food. I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning for about three months, then I won’t be able to eat it again for almost a year because I overdid it. Haven’t you ever had something like that? That you loved but just got tired of after experiencing it over and over again? Like a movie or tv show?”

“Nah…. Not that I can think of.” Holder is frowning now, his brow furrowed and he’s chewing on his lip.

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just didn’t realize you were like that.”

You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I just go through cycles of things I like. I’ll come back around to it eventually. Just for now, I’ve had enough.” Your eyes shift to the skillet Holder had been cooking in. “Um, you might want to stir that before it burns.”

He nods and does as you suggested, but you can still see the wheels turning in his head. After a few more minutes, he pulls the skillet off the heat and sets it to the side. Then he excused himself so he could go for a smoke on the balcony.

When he came back in ten minutes later, Holder was more himself, but you can tell something was still wrong. During dinner, his laugh doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he is downing more beers than usual. When you are both finished and you start to clear the plates, Holder finally speaks up.

“I gotta go home. I got an early mornin’ tomorrow,” he mumbles, not meeting your eye.

“What? But you said you were staying over? You have clothes here so you wouldn’t have to go home to change in the morning and my place is closer to the precinct anyway.” You can’t understand what happened to make him change his mind so suddenly. Before the two of you had started dinner, all he could do was talk about all the things he was going to do to you later tonight. Now he wanted to leave? “But we haven’t even eaten the pie yet.”

“Sorry, but it’s just better if I go. We have a pretty fucked up new case and it ain’t gonna be an easy one to solve. I need ta get some sleep.”

“Um, alright…. If you think that’s best.” You place the dishes in the sink and return to where he is still sitting at the table. Stepping up next to him, you run your fingers lightly through his messy hair. “But we’re still good, right?”

“Yeah, of course, babe.” He gently kisses your wrist then stands up and grabs his things.

You walk him to the door, where he gives you a quick peck on the head before shuffling off down the hall. You stare after him, wondering what is really going on in his head.

“Hey, baby. I just wanted to call and see how your day was going. I know you said you had this really hard case you were working on, and I didn’t want to bother you. But, uh, you haven’t responded to any of my texts the last two days. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay…. That we’re okay….. So, uh, just give me a call or text when you can… please? I love you.”

“Hey, it’s me again. I know you texted me back yesterday, but I still would love to see you. I understand this case is taking a lot out of you, so I was thinking I could make you feel good, do that thing you like…. But I understand if you can’t. Maybe Saturday? They have to give you a day off sometime. And, Holder…. I love you.”

“Stephen, please. If I did something wrong, can you just tell me? You haven’t called me in over a week, barely texted. I know you’re busy, but usually, you’re blowing up my phone when you’re on stakeouts or have downtime in the office or Linden is driving. I just want to see you, even for a few minutes! I can come by the precinct. Or your apartment. Or you can come to my place. Hell, I’ll meet you in the McDonald’s parking lot halfway between the two! Just… something…. please. I still love you. I just hope….”

A small nudge at your hip startles you awake. Blinking in surprise, you look up to see your boyfriend towering over you. “Holder!” you exclaim as you unfold your aching limbs.

“Yo, what’re you doin’ here? How long you been sittin’ like that?” He asks, a slight edge of concern tinting his words at seeing you curled up on the carpet just outside his apartment door.

You glance at your watch and think. “Fou- no, five hours? I didn’t know how else to see you since you’ve been avoiding me.”

He offers you his hand and helps pull you to your feet. “So, this was the best ya could come up with?”

“Well…. Yeah.”

He chuckles softly and shakes his head as he starts to unlock his door. “And what happened to your key?”

“……” You hang your head, lip trembling as tears spring to your eyes.

As the door to the apartment swings open, he glances back at you. The second he sees your forlorn expression, his smile fades and he gathers you into his chest. “Hey, mama, don’t cry. Yo, come on. It’s okay.” He gently steers you into his apartment and shuts the door. Once inside the privacy of his place, he kneels in front of you and cups your face. “What up?”

You sniffle as you say, “I didn’t know if you would want me to use my key. I didn’t know if you would even want me at all anymore.”

“What! Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Because, you kept ignoring me all week. I came by because if you want to break up, I wanted you to do it to my face,” you mutter quietly.

“No, babe, that’s not…. No, I never… Of course, I….” He stands abruptly and starts pacing in front of you.

“Ah, I fucked this up. I’m so sorry. I just…. I thought….” He finally stops and sighs. Then he whispers, “Normally, I text you over a hundred times a day. We talk on the phone every chance we get and we’re practically livin’ together. I just…. I didn’t want ya ta get tired of me.” He hangs his head dejectedly.

But you can only stare at him, a baffled expression on your face. “What? What are you talking about? When did I ever say I was getting tired of you?”

“Last time we made dinner. You said you have a habit of overdoin’ it with things you love then you grow tired of ‘em after a while.” He is still just staring at the floor, refusing to look you in the eye. Then in a whisper, he says, “I didn’t want to be one of those things.”

Your heart breaks for him as it all begins to make sense. “No, baby! I didn’t mean you! I would never mean you!” You take his face into your hands and lift it up so he is gazing into your face. “Stephen, you make me feel alive. When we met, for the first time ever, I felt like I could breathe. Don’t you get it? You aren’t a stupid song or a food that I could just get over or get sick of. You…. you’re air. You’re water and gravity. You’re all the things that I need in my life to keep going. There is no me without you anymore and that is something that I will never get sick of.”

He hesitates, “Do… do you mean it?”

You nod, “With all of my heart.”

He stares at you for just a second before surging forward and capturing your lips with his. His kiss is frantic and almost feral as if he is trying to devour you, but you don’t mind. You kiss him back with just as much ferocity, trying to show him how much he means to you, how much you need him. Never breaking contact with your mouth, he slides one arm under your ass and lifts you up so your legs can wrap around his waist.

Quickly, he carries you back into his bedroom and lays you down on the bed. In this new position, you use your legs still wrapped around him to pull him in closer, eliciting a needy moan from his lips that sends a rush of pleasure through you.

He starts trailing kisses across your jaw and down your neck, sliding backward off the bed to his knees. You know what he plans on doing next, but you need to clarify one thing before he does.

Lifting his gaze back up to yours, you say breathlessly, “Baby, next time, just talk to me if something’s wrong. I need to know so we can work it out, okay?”

He nods, his hazel eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Fuck, I missed you so much. Your smile, your laugh, your touch, your taste.” He nibbles your collarbone as if to prove his point. “I ain’t ever gonna do that again, I promise. Damn, there’s so much I wanna tell ya. So much we missed out on this past week.”

You caress his face gently, “We’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere.” You drag him back up to place another kiss on his swollen lips. Then you whisper, “And I promise, even if you were a song, you would be my favorite one and I could listen to you on repeat for the rest of my life without ever getting tired of you."

He grins brightly as he presses his forehead against yours, “Well, babe, how ‘bout tonight, we try for a remix?”

He drops back to the floor where he uses your legs to pull you flush to the edge of the bed. And as he dips his head and lets out a heady groan, it is music to your ears.

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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A Picture's Worth 1000 Words (Rick Flag Drabble)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: It was an accident, something you were never supposed to see. However, when you borrowed Rick's notebook, you never imagined what you would find inside it.

Word Count: 950

TW: Fluff, Love Confession

Alt. POV Rewrite

Waller had been running everyone so ragged the last few weeks, was it really that surprising you had fallen asleep during the briefing? Luckily, she hadn’t seemed to notice, but Flag sure had. When you finally woke up at the conclusion of the meeting, you found half a dozen pens shoved in your hair. Glaring over at your fellow officer, he just chuckled behind his hand and shrugged. But then he smartly darted out of the meeting before you could confront him.

It took you nearly twenty minutes to finally track him down outside the cafeteria and as soon as you did, you threw the handful of pens at his head. Dodging most of them, he gave you a charming half-smile. “Hey, serves you right. You know the rules. Anyone who falls asleep durin’ a briefing is free game to mess with.”

“Yeah, but could you have been more obvious! If I hadn’t been sitting behind Nanaue, Waller would have noticed in seconds!”

Rick shrugged, “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

“No, you and I did make the rules! It’s our game, you jackass.” You punched him playfully on the arm so he knows you’re not really mad. “However, to make it up to me, can I borrow your notes? I obviously missed everything she said in there.”

“Sure, but I already dropped my notebook back in my office. I can get it for you after lunch.”

“Do you mind if I just go get them now? I’m not really hungry and I want to get caught up in case Waller wants to discuss it more later.”

Rick shrugged again as he headed into the cafeteria. “Whatever works for you. It should just be layin’ on top of my desk.”

You find his notebook exactly where he said it would be. But as you began flipping through his notes, you suddenly froze. There, right in between a page listing the squad members for this mission and a page detailing the extraction plan, was a drawing. You had seen Rick doodling in his free time before (usually violent depictions of what he would like to do to Waller given the chance) but you had never seen one of his pictures like this.

The sleeping person in the drawing was you. It was obvious from the clothes and the hair, but you had never seen yourself look this beautiful before. Long eyelashes that brushed your cheeks, full lips parted just ever so slightly, neck elegantly extended to the side as your head tilted in sleep. The shading accentuated and highlighted each area to perfection, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. This was not just another doodle during a long meeting. This was a work of art that was filled with love and devotion. But this couldn’t be how Rick saw you….could it?

“No! Wait!” Rick suddenly burst through the door breathlessly, the remains of his tacos all over the front of his jacket. It must have finally dawned on him what else that notebook contained besides just notes. When he saw what you were looking at, he glanced back and forth between you and the book a few times before finally settling his gaze on you.

“What is this, Rick?” You asked softly as you held up the drawing.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered as he stormed over and tried to rip it from your hands.

But you dodged out of the way, clutching the notebook tight against your chest. “This isn’t nothing. This is…...I’ve never even imagined I could look like this…But-but why did you draw it? Why like that?”

“Just drop it, okay? I was bored and I just wanted to draw something. I saw you asleep and….”

“And what? Rick, why did you draw me looking so…so beautiful?”

Rick shrugged and in a low voice that was almost inaudible said, “I just drew what I saw.”

A new thought occurred to you, and you began flipping through the rest of the notebook. Rick dove at the book, trying to stop you from seeing anything else. But it was too late. Near the back of the book, you saw page after page of sketches of you. In uniform, in your covert ops gear, in your workout clothes, laughing, scowling, smirking, smiling. Each one was as detailed and as beautiful as the last.

Looking up at your partner, you whispered, “Rick?

His face had gone a deep red and his jaw was clenched as his gaze bored holes into the floor. You walked over to him, only stopping when you were practically touching. You stared at his chiseled chest for a moment, gathering your courage. Then, reaching up, you placed one hand behind his neck and pull him down to your lips.

He didn’t fight back like you expected. Instead, he surged into you, immediately lifting you up as his arms wrapped around your waist. Instinctually, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he carried you over and placed you on his desk. He tore off your jacket, exposing your thin tank top underneath. His lips left yours with a moan as he began peppering kisses across your jaw and down your throat.

However, as much as you had always dreamed of this and as much pleasure that was currently flooding your system, something still nagged at the back of your mind. “Rick, there is one thing I need to know.” He hummed in acknowledgment as he continued to trail kisses down your throat and onto your collarbone, causing your eyes to flutter with desire. “That picture you drew in the meeting today was so detailed, so beautifully sketched and shaded……How long was I asleep?”

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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A Picture's Worth 1000 Words (Alt. POV Rick Flag Rewrite)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: It was an accident, something you were never supposed to see. But when you had asked to borrow his notes, it never crossed Rick's mind what else was in that notebook...

Word Count: 2733

TW: Fluff, Love Confession

Original Drabble

For Rick, briefing days were the worst. Not only did Waller always start them off by droning on for an hour about all their recent mistakes before ever getting to their latest assignment, but it was time he could be spending with you. Sure, you were sitting a few seats over from him, but it felt like a million miles away when he couldn’t talk to you, couldn’t make jokes about Waller’s latest fashion catastrophe, couldn’t make snide comments about her finding fault in everything they did on the mission. But today it seems it didn’t really matter anyway.

You were usually so on top of your game, so it was surprising to see you had actually let yourself nod off in the middle of the meeting. However, as much as you had been running yourself ragged these past few weeks, he was glad you were getting some rest. But still, Rick wondered if he should try and wake you up. If Waller saw you, there would be hell to pay. So, reluctantly, Rick took his pen and lightly poked you in the back of the head. You shifted slightly but didn’t wake up. He tried again, but then winced when the pen became entangled in your hair. But when he let it go and it stuck, his concern quickly shifted to glee.

Years ago after a particularly boring meeting, Rick had fallen asleep just to wake up to his normal American flag baseball cap replaced with one that read “I’m with stupid” with an arrow pointing down. It had taken close to an hour after the meeting (and a bunch of snickering and pointing in the halls) for him to realize it. He had sworn revenge, but you proposed an alternative. If either of them fell asleep during a briefing, they would become free game to mess with. It not only gave them more of a motive to stay awake in the long monotonous meetings, but it allowed the other person to have a little fun. So, instead of finishing your reports, the two of you spent the afternoon detailing a long list of rules and limits. And since then, the game had been on.

So, Rick quickly dug through the bag that he brought to the debriefs just for opportunities like this. Pulling out a handful of pens, Rick spent the next five minutes strategically sliding the pens into your hair. When he was finished, he sat back with a wide grin. You looked like his high school art teacher with five or six pens sticking out of your head at random angles. He was just about to take out his phone and slyly try to take a picture when you shifted in your seat, giving him a better view of your face.

Rick felt his heart leap in his chest as he drank in the view before him. You had been his best friend, his partner, his confidant, for years. But more than that, you had been his most well-kept secret. After only a month or two of knowing you, he had fallen hopelessly and helplessly in love. Sure, there had been an immediate physical attraction. You were exactly his type, and while you were beautiful and sexy, it was obvious you were oblivious to this fact which somehow made you even more attractive. But soon, those feelings of lust and desire morphed into something else.

As Rick really got to know you, he saw the amazing person you were beyond the physical. How you were so intelligent but not a know-it-all, how you were funny but never in a cruel way, how you could flip between a hardened soldier and compassionate friend in seconds, and how you would do anything to protect those who you cared about no matter the personal cost to you. You were everything he had ever imagined in a romantic partner and more. However, you were his work partner, his best friend. And as much as he longed for more, there was no way in hell he would ever risk what he had with you by trying to make a move.

So, he resigned himself to stolen glances and his notebooks. As much as his father had influenced and encouraged his militaristic side growing up, his mother had encouraged his artistic side. Pens, notepads, charcoal, paints. These were his birthday and Christmas presents every year. And he embraced it wholeheartedly. His art provided him a release from the horrors he experienced in the military, and even though he never shared it with anyone (except a few violent ones he showed you of the things he would do to Waller if ever given the chance), he still drew every chance he got. And lately, all he could draw was you. He knew it was weird, maybe even borderline creepy, but he couldn’t stop himself. You would look at him a certain way or the light would hit you just so, and he couldn’t help it.

Just like now. Because you had shifted in your chair, you were now facing him more directly. And you looked so peaceful. It was a look he hadn’t seen on your face in a really long time, and he knew he had to capture the moment. So, he grabbed his pencil out of his bag and began to draw.

His eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the page. He wanted to capture each and every detail with as much precision as possible. The way your lips were parted just ever so slightly, and the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. How your impossibly long eyelashes quivered slightly against your skin in your sleep. And your neck… It was extended to one side, baring its perfect, smooth skin to the world. And as he began to sketch it, his hand began to tremble. What would it feel like to kiss your neck, gently and tenderly? To feel your pulse beating beneath his lips as they trailed across your skin? Would you like him nibbling on your jaw, your ear? And the way your breath would catch just before his mouth crashed against your perfect, full lips. How your hands would gather in his hair while he-

Rick had to press the tip of his pencil painfully against his thigh to snap him back to reality. He had been so close to releasing a loud, needy moan right in the middle of the debrief. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he returned to the sketch. His hand began to fly across the page. Normally, a sketch like this could take an hour or more, but within thirty minutes, he was staring at your perfect likeness on his page (minus the pens in your hair). And he softly smiled down at it.

That smile turned into a full-on grin as moments later, he watched you stir and sit up. You felt the extra weight in your hair immediately and turned to glare at him. Rick stifled a laugh and just shrugged. He knew it was best to avoid your fury immediately, so as soon as Waller finished the meeting moments later, he bolted through the back door of the auditorium.

He hurried back to his office and dumped his bag on the floor next to the desk. He pulled out his notebook and quickly reviewed the notes from today's meeting about the mission they would be leaving on in two days. Same old life and death stuff. But just as he was about to close the notebook, his eyes caught his sketch once again. He trailed his finger down your cheek and closed it with a smile. Then he hurried out of the office and headed to the cafeteria.

Just as he reached the double doors, he was attacked by a handful of pens to the face. He grinned as he turned to face you. “Hey, serves you right. You know the rules. Anyone who falls asleep durin’ a briefing is free game to mess with.”

Your face was fuming with anger, but Rick could tell it was mostly for show. “Yeah, but could you have been more obvious! If I hadn’t been sitting behind Nanaue, Waller would have noticed in seconds!”

Rick shrugged, “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

“No, you and I did make the rules! It’s our game, you jackass.” You punched him in the arm but there was no real force behind it. Rick had felt what one of your real punches felt like and this was in no way that. Thankfully. “However, to make it up to me, can I borrow your notes? I obviously missed everything she said in there.”

Rick’s stomach growled and he glanced back into the cafeteria, not really giving your request a second thought. “Sure, but I already dropped my notebook back in my office. I can get it for you after lunch.”

“Do you mind if I just go get them now? I’m not really hungry and I want to get caught up in case Waller wants to discuss it more later.”

Rick shrugged again as he headed into the cafeteria. Of course, you would want to work through lunch. But he didn’t. And if he didn’t hurry, Economos would take the last burrito. “Whatever works for you. It should just be layin’ on top of my desk.”

Hurrying inside, Rick cursed loudly as he watched Economos grab the last burrito just as expected. The other man shot Rick a smug grin as he moved along to pay. Every week this happens! One of these days the cafeteria would actually make enough of the food people wanted to eat. Reluctantly, Rick grabbed a plate of soggy-looking tacos and an energy drink. Once he paid, he went and sat at a table alone. Normally, he would be eating with you but since you weren’t here, he preferred eating by himself. Not that he had anything against the office team per say, but he knew about the bets that they made every time the squad left for a mission and it kind of ticked him off.

But as he took his first big bite of taco, Harcourt called over to him. “Hey, Flag. Where’s your partner? I need to talk to her.”

“Not ‘ere.” Rick said through a mouthful of food.

Harcourt rolled her eyes. “I can see that. But where is she?”

Rick swallowed then said, “She went to get my notebook from my office. Just go talk to her after lunch.”

Harcourt kept talking about needing a report or some shit, but Rick tuned her out. He was just raising his taco back to his lips when a thought occurred to him that made his blood run cold. He bolted up from the table, spilling the remains of his lunch all over himself, and took off at full speed towards his office. He could hear Harcourt and Economos calling after him but he ignored them.

How could he be so stupid! He had given you permission to look in his notebook. The notebook filled with pages and pages of sketches of you. Oh God! If you saw them, if you realized how he felt…. Rick started running faster.

The second he reached his office door, he burst through it yelling, “No! Wait!”

Rick stood there, chest heaving and eyes wide, as he took in the open notebook in your hands and the shocked expression on your face. He didn’t know where to look. You. The notebook. You. The notebook. Finally, he nervously looked at you. This was never how you were supposed to find out about his feelings for you. Finding a drawing while he stood there, sweaty, out of breath, and covered in soggy tacos. But it seemed like this was how things were going to play out.

Holding up the page with today’s sketch, you asked in a hushed tone, “What is this, Rick?”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered. He hurried over to you and tried taking the book from your grasp, but you dodged out of the way, retreating farther into his office.

Clinging protectively to the notebook, you said, “This isn’t nothing. This is……I’ve never even imagined I could look like this…But-but why did you draw it? Why like that?”

Rick took another few steps towards you, silently begging you to not dig deeper into this. “Just drop it, okay? I was bored and I just wanted to draw something. I saw you asleep and….”

“And what? Rick, why did you draw me looking so…so beautiful?”

The awe and wonder in your voice stabbed at his heart. How could you not see that’s how you looked? How could this accurate representation of you come as such a shock? Why was it so hard for you to see the amazing person you really were? But, Rick couldn’t tell you any of that. Instead, he shrugged and somehow managed to mutter the words, “I just drew what I saw.”

He watched your face waver for a second before a look of realization passed over it. Quickly, you began flipping through the pages of the notebook, scouring every page for more sketches. NO! Rick dove for the book, trying desperately to pry it from your grasp before you got to the end. But he was too late. As he saw you turn to the first page of drawings, his body deflated. It was over. Any hope he had of talking his way out of this was now gone. You would know how he felt and everything would change. He wouldn’t be surprised if you asked for a transfer.

Rick stared intensely at the floor, jaw clenched tightly, willing himself not to show you how much this rejection was going to hurt him. But then, he heard you approaching him. Your shoes slowly appeared in his line of sight as you stood mere centimeters away from him. He looked up cautiously, glancing at your face which was a mix of hesitation and fear. But just as he was about to say something, your expression changed. It was one he had seen a million times. You had steeled yourself against your fear and were about to face it head-on. Suddenly, one of your hands reached up and slid behind his neck and began pulling him into your lips.

Rick didn’t hesitate. The second he realized what you were doing, he surged into your lips. For years, he had wondered what it would be like to kiss you, and this, this, was so much better than he had ever dreamed. While never breaking contact, he circled his arms around your waist and lifted you up. He was stunned when you wrapped your legs around his hips, but he took it as a sign to continue, so he carried you over to his desk. Once you were seated carefully on top, he slid your jacket off you, running his hands down the smooth skin of your shoulders and arms as you were left in only a thin tank top.

Finally releasing the moan that had felt trapped in his chest since this morning’s meeting, Rick trailed his lips down across your jaw and then your throat. You arched into him as his hands settled on your hips and he pulled you in tighter to him, slotting you perfectly between his large thighs.

And just as his first kiss landed on your collar bone, you finally spoke up. Breathlessly, you said, “Rick, there is one thing I need to know.”

He hummed in acknowledgment praying you weren’t about to ask him to stop but preparing himself for that eventuality. But instead, he was shocked to hear you ask, “That picture you drew in the meeting today was so detailed, so beautifully sketched and shaded……How long was I asleep?”

A soft chuckle exploded from Rick’s lips still on your skin, causing you to squirm under the vibrations. Glancing up at your face, Rick teased, “Really, darlin’? That’s what you’re thinkin' about right now? Huh. Seems I’m not doing my job correctly.” He reached up and slid his hands under your tank top until they cupped your breast through your bra, running his thumbs over the thin material. You gasped as your head fell back, causing Rick to grin widely. “Let’s see if I can change that.”

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

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Bleeding Heart (Part 1)

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (Spoilers for Movie), Rick Flag

Summary: Rick has a mysterious new recruit on Task Force X. Without being provided any information, Rick will have to learn about this new team member on the job.

Word Count: 4191

TW: Powers that Allow Transference of Injuries, Blood, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Injuries, Reader Death

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

In all the years he had been in command of Task Force X, Rick Flag had thought he had seen everything when it came to new recruits. Every file that crossed his desk provided detailed descriptions of the new members including their relevant skills or abilities, assets to the team, reason for imprisonment in Belle Reve, and remaining time on their sentence. He had grown so numb to the bizarre and impossible material, that he barely glanced at the information as he thumbed through the files anymore. That was, until he came across your file. He made it to the third page before he registered something amiss. Flipping back to the start, he stared at line after line of black stripes that filled the page. And the next page, and the next, and the next, all the way to the end. Excluding the small information box on the front, every line of the file had been redacted. All he was left with was an alias, date of birth, and physical description.

Rick wasn’t sure what to make of it. Sure, other files had contained some information that had been deemed too top secret for his eyes, but it was usually just a name or location. Occasionally, a few lines or even a paragraph may be omitted, but never entire pages. Gathering the file, Rick stormed off to get some answers.

He found his boss in the control room preparing for the next mission. Throwing your file on the table, he demanded, “What the hell is this?”

Amanda Waller didn’t even glance at the file. “Your newest recruit.”

“There’s no information here. I have an alias. That’s it. What am I supposed to do with that? I know nothing about her abilities, her skills. Hell, I don’t even know what she did to get thrown in here or how long she’s going to be staying.”

“Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that she is very important, so you need to keep her safe. She doesn’t have the training your usual members have, so keep a close eye on her.”

“You expect me to babysit an unskilled, inexperienced inmate while in the middle of a war zone?”

“I expect you to do your job. Keep her alive. At least until she has time to do her job.” Waller walked off towards her office, signaling the end of the discussion.

All Rick could do was scowl at her retreating form. He knew that nothing good came from trying to argue with Waller. He just hoped this new girl didn’t get him killed.

It turned out, Rick was right to worry. From the second the team touched down, you were a trembling mess of nerves and fears. Placing a hand on your shoulder, Rick tried to calm you down. “It’s okay. I’ve got your back.” You nodded frantically, eyes wide as saucers, but you gave Rick a small smile.

However, within minutes, you were cowering behind a burning car, hands pressed firmly over your ears as you rocked back and forth anxiously. Rick had more important things to do, but he was forced to stand by your side and take out any assailant who approached your location. Cursing under his breath as he took down yet another enemy, he heard you cry out in warning. Before he could react, he felt a sharp pain sear down his side. Turning, he watched a man smile wickedly as he pulled his knife out of Rick’s side. Rick used his gun to make short work of him, but the damage had already been done. Stumbling slightly, Rick collapsed to the ground. Blood gushed through his fingers as he desperately tried to apply pressure to the wound. But it was of little use, the knife had gone in too deep.

Suddenly, he felt you at his side. As he looked up, he expected to see fear and horror painted across your face. Instead, you had a sweet yet determined smile on your lips, sporting a confidence Rick had not seen in you since the two of you had been introduced. Without a word, you gently placed your hands on his side. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Rick felt a strange, warm pulling sensation deep in his wound. Glancing down, he could see the gush of blood slow to a stream then to a trickle. As you fell back with a hiss, Rick watched as blood began staining your shirt in the exact same spot as his wound. As he glanced back and forth between the two identically placed wounds, you smiled weakly up at him, “Don’t worry Colonel, I’ve got your back too.”

Later, once the mission was over and the surviving members of Task Force X were on the plane heading back to Belle Reve, Rick had examined his side. While there was still a small gash, it appeared to be little more than a graze compared to the deep puncture he knew it had been. He glanced over to where you were currently sitting, hunched over and half-asleep.

He had seen when the medics had removed your long sleeved, high collared shirt and gloves to work on your injury. Your torso and arms were covered with hundreds of scars of various sizes and severities, many of which overlapped each other. Scars, Rick had a feeling, that someone else had earned. It had taken five stitches and a pint of blood to stabilize you. And Rick noticed that even though you had been terrified during the mission, you didn’t even bat an eye when the medic pulled out his needle and began sewing you up. Like you had done this a thousand times before. But this time, it was all because you had taken his injury.

Rick walked over to where you were sitting. You smiled up at him through sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “Colonel.”

“Are you going to explain what the hell happened out there?”

You blinked sharply, rousing yourself awake. “Um, I’m not sure what you mean?....Colonel? Sir?”

“I’m talking about the gaping wound in my side that somehow ended up on you.”

“Oh, that. I can absorb an injury from someone to myself, taking as much or as little of it as I want. But however much I heal it, that much is inflicted back onto me. I figured this would all be in my file.”

“Your file contains almost no information about you. Nothing about your powers, why you are in Belle Reve, or how long your sentence is. I’m not even sure of your real name. All I have is your alias, Aceso.”

You shook your head. “I guess I’m not surprised she hid all my information. Oh, and I’ve never gone by that name outside of Belle Reve. That’s just the name Waller assigned me to help her hide me in the system. Apparently, she said Aceso was the Greek Goddess of the healing process, or something like that.” You rolled your eyes. “I never had an alias. I never did anything where I needed one.”

Rick’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then what did you do to get thrown in here?”

“I was born,” you said sarcastically. When you saw Rick seemed even more confused than before, you elaborated. “I can’t prove any of this. I’m only going off of things I saw, or Waller has said to me, or I’ve overheard. But what I think happened is she got wind of my abilities and what I was capable of, and she wanted that power for herself. So, one night, a bunch of henchmen for various Gotham villains – you know the Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler, guys like that – broke into my apartment demanding that I heal them. Before I even knew what was happening, the police showed up and arrested everyone. I was charged with being an accessory after the fact to any of their charges, and by association, the villains’ charges as well. I lost count of how many life sentences they finally settled on. I know Waller was behind the whole thing, but she was smart enough and connected enough to hide her tracks extremely well.”

“But why do you think Waller was behind everything?”

“Well, she came to see me three days before I was arrested. She was asking me all kinds of questions about what I could do, how big of an injury I could transfer, how long it took me to heal afterwards, stuff like that. She wasn’t the first person to find and ask me those sorts of things, but she was definitely the most powerful one. I could practically see the gears grinding in her head as I talked, and it scared me. Then, as the police were leading me out to the squad car in handcuffs, I could swear I saw her watching from across the street. That’s when I knew I was screwed.” You shrugged. “And I was right.”

Rick let out a long, slow breath as he sat down in the chair next to you. He knew Waller was ruthless, but this was a whole other level of underhandedness. “Do you have any evidence?” He saw you bristle, and so he clarified. “Don’t misunderstand me, darlin’. I one hundred percent believe that you’re right and she orchestrated that whole situation. I’ve seen her do some pretty shady things in the past, but I had never imagined she could get away with going to this extreme. And I know you said you can’t prove any of this, but if you have any sort of evidence of any kind, I know some people who might be able to help you out.”

You blushed. “I appreciate the vote of confidence and the offer, Colonel. It means a lot to me that someone actually believes me for a change. But no, I don’t have any proof.”

Rick nodded. “You don’t have to call me Colonel when we aren’t on a mission. Rick or Flag is fine. And that’s okay. I can still have some contacts look into it. Maybe they could find out if Waller slipped up anywhere. You never know. They might get lucky.”

Your blush deepened. “You would really do that for me….Rick?”

Rick smiled. “You saved my life out there today. I think making a few phone calls is the least I can do to repay you.”

You waved him off with a smile. “Oh, like you hadn’t saved me from like ten guys before I distracted you. Besides, that’s why I’m here. I might not be able to fight or shoot but I can help those who can!”

Rick chuckled. “So, what do I call you if you don’t go by Aceso?”

“Waller won’t let me use my real name. The one time she found out I had shared it with one of my guards, he was immediately fired. So, I guess I’m stuck with Aceso.” You stuck out your tongue. “Ugh, I just wish she would have picked something cooler or easier to pronounce. And I’m not even Greek! My family was originally from England.”

“Well, what about a nickname? I mean the most obvious would be A, Ace, Eso, something like that. But you can really go for anything. Just pick something that feels a little more you.”

“I kind of like Ace. I know it seems like I should be a pilot in Top Gun or something, but, I don’t know, there’s just something about it….”

“Then Ace it is. Honestly, that’s a relief. I had to google the pronunciation of Aceso like three times and I’m still not sure I said it right.”

“Don’t look at me! I had never heard it before Waller told me it was my new name.”

The two of you laughed, shoulders slightly knocking against each other in the cramped space. Noticing as you stifled a yawn, Rick offered you his arm as a pillow. Shyly, you took him up on his offer and soon you were fast asleep. Looking down at your peaceful form, Rick thought about everything you had just shared with him. He hated the story about how you got here. He hated how Waller basically turned you from a person to her own personal pawn. He hated that someone as sweet and upbeat as you were in a hellhole like Belle Reve for something you hadn’t done. And, most of all, he hated himself for the feeling of happiness he had knowing that you would be by his side once again on the next mission even if it meant you would be in danger.

Rick stood in the doorway of your hospital room. You were curled up in the bed with you back towards him, but he could still see the bandages which covered most of your body. Rick sighed. The last mission had quickly gone from bad to worse. He had only been able to watch helplessly as his team dropped like flies around him. Waller had screamed repeatedly in the coms for you to heal everyone you could reach, but there had been just too many injuries. As you grew weaker, you had begged Waller to let you stop but she had insisted you heal as many wounded as possible. It wasn’t until you had finally collapsed that Waller had reluctantly backed off. Rick had carried your broken body back to the chopper, stopping twice to perform CPR. It was a miracle you had made it back to Belle Reve alive.

This had been their twelfth mission together, and each time you seemed to come back in worse and worse shape. And it killed Rick to see you like that. Your shallow breath hitching in your throat, your eyes fluttering weakly, your skin pale and clammy beneath his fingers. And this last mission... there was a moment when he thought he had lost you for good. And it was in that moment that Rick knew that he loved you. He had tried to fight his feelings for so long. After June, he promised himself he would never let himself get into a personal situation where Waller had that much control ever again. Yet, as he was frantically trying to restart your heart for the second time, he knew that he had broken that promise.

Rick noticed as you shifted slightly in the bed. “How are you doing?” When he didn’t get a response, he sighed and tried again. “Come on Ace, talk to me. I know you’re awake.”

Slowly, you rolled over and Rick felt his heart shatter. Besides what was covered by the bandages, fresh wounds littered your cheeks and your bottom lip had been taped multiple places where it had split open. The slice on your neck that you had received from healing Harkness was currently bleeding through your bandages, staining them a bright crimson. Your eyes were red and puffy with tears still silently streaming down your face.

Rick hurried to the bed and gathered you protectively in his arms. “Oh Darlin’, it’s alright.”

He rubbed your back as you began to sob desperately into his chest. “It was too much! I tried to stop, but she wouldn’t listen! I begged her, and she still made me… I’ve never taken that much before. I thought I was going to….” You don’t even finish the sentence as another heart wrenching sob tore from your lips.

Rick squeezed you tighter in his arms and he gently rocked you back and forth. “I know, I know, baby girl, but you didn’t, okay? You’re still here, and you’re going to be fine. You just need some rest.”

“Yeah, this time. But what about the next mission or the one after that? Waller is going to keep making me get closer and closer to that edge until I just…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing in a voice so soft, Rick had to strain just to hear you. “Since the day I discovered my powers, I knew that it was how I was going to die. That someone would force me to go past my limit or I would heal too many people until my body just couldn’t take it.” You picked your head off of his chest and stared deeply into Rick’s eyes. “I don’t fear dying. But I want it to be on my terms. Not anybody else’s. I would rather her use the bomb in my head than repeat what happened today. If I ever do make the decision to go all the way, it needs to be because I want to, not because I’m forced to.”

Rick ran his finger lightly across your cheek. “Ace, listen to me. I’m not going to let that happen. I’ve been reaching out to some of my contacts in the government. Waller set you up. You should have never been here in the first place. I need a few more months, but I think I might have found a way to get you out. For good.”

Rick watched as your eyes widened in surprise. “Rick! How? Why? If she finds out….”

“I don’t care. You don’t deserve to be here. You’ve never deserved to be here. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you get out.”

You buried your face in his chest once again, muffling the words as you asked, “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Isn’t it obvious, darlin’? It’s because I love you.”

You went still in his arms. “Really? Do you honestly mean that?”

“I do.”

You lifted your misty eyes to meet his. “I love you too. I have for a long time. You’re the only thing in my terrible life that makes it worth living.”

Rick gently placed his finger under your chin and pulled you close to him. Then, mindful of your split lip, he softly kissed you.

Just as you had feared, over the next few months Waller continued to push you far beyond your breaking point. A few times, she had even pulled you directly from your hospital bed, broken bones and all, to join the next mission. Rick tried everything to protect you, but there was only so much he could do when your job was literally to get injured. And they hadn’t nicknamed the team the Suicide Squad for nothing. Grave injuries were more common than not on the missions. But to make matters worse, most of the other members of the squad (with the exception of Harley) had come to see your abilities as something that was owed to them, not as the gift it was. Soon, they were demanding you heal even the smallest scratch or tiniest cut. And being the kind, caring soul that you were, you always obliged. You and your god-damn bleeding heart. You just couldn’t stand seeing others in pain when you knew you could help. Which had just made the members more reckless since they knew they had an easy fix in their back pocket.

So, injuries became more frequent and more severe as time went on. Most missions ended with Rick having to carry you in his arms back to the plane, dripping blood and half-unconscious. Then he would cling to your shattered body as you struggled to survive until they could get you to a hospital. Rick had seen you take on almost every injury known to man, the most common being broken bones, punctured lungs, lacerations, bullet wounds, burns of all degrees, and concussions. And though you healed about 50% faster than the average human, your body could only take so much.

Rick refused to let you heal him unless it was absolutely necessary and, even then, only enough to get him back on his feet. But more often than not, as he laid curled around you in your hospital bed, he would feel a sudden warmth as all his aches and pains disappeared. This would always be followed by his deep disapproving growl to which you would just smile and say, “I’m already hurt this badly. What’s a little more?” And Rick would always pull you into an intensely affectionate kiss. It had happened so often now, it had almost become a ritual between you two, a way to express your feelings for each other without having to say the words.

So when Task Force X was given a mission to Corto Maltese, Rick had been relieved to see you were not assigned to his team. It had only been a few days since you had been released from the hospital wing after your last mission and he knew you still hadn’t fully recovered. He had wanted to find you to say goodbye before he left, but Waller had rushed him through his briefing so quickly he never got the chance. But it was ultimately for the best. If you knew he was going on a mission alone, you would have done everything in your power to force your way onto the team.

Which was why Rick wasn’t really that shocked to see you peeking out from behind Nanaue the next day after Task Force X’s second team came bursting through the tent he had been sitting in with Sol Soria. Rick was furious that Waller would send you here, especially as he noticed your limp as you hurried to his side, but he had to admit he was happy to see you. As you slid into his arms, he immediately felt his side mend back together as you flinched beneath him. Pulling back a little, Rick shot you a dirty look, but you just smiled slyly from under your eyelashes as you stood on your tiptoes to plant a kiss the tip of his nose. Rick couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. God, he loved you. Throwing his arm gently around your shoulder, he steered the two of you back to the group so you could plan your attack on Jötunheim.

Everything had gone according to plan, until it didn’t. Now Rick was laying on his back, the shard of porcelain Peacemaker had stabbed him with protruding from his chest. Ironically, he knew it was the only thing that was keeping him from bleeding out instantly. But as he felt his heart stutter and slow, he knew it wouldn’t matter for much longer. It was just helping to prolong the inevitable.

“Rick! Oh my god! No!”

Ace? Rick’s vision had already begun to blur when you came into view. He silently chuckled to himself, noting how the haze he was seeing just made you look even more like an angel regardless of the tears and dirt smudged across your panicked face. He was just glad he could see you one more time before the end.

But all the happiness drained from his body as he saw you reach for his chest. He recognized that determined look in your eye and realized what you were about to do. He willed his body to move, to stop you before it was too late, but his strength had completely left him. He was barely able to twitch his fingers. So, he tried silently begging you with his eyes, Don’t do this! This isn’t what I want! Please, Ace, stop! But if you understood what he was trying to convey, you paid it no mind. Instead, you smiled lovingly down at him as you ran your hand over his sweat drenched hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all going to be okay.”

And you jerked the porcelain out of his chest, immediately replacing it with your hand.

Rick bucked at the violent movement, a groan of pain ripping from his lips. Then he felt the warmth of your power surging into him, felt his heart knitting itself back together. But as he grew stronger, he could only watch in horror as you grew weaker. Blood blossomed across your chest as a fresh wound opened up there. You began wilting before his very eyes, slumping further and further over until you were almost doubled in half. But still, your hand maintained its firm position over his heart.

Finally, just as he regained enough strength to move his arms, your strength gave out and you toppled over. Rick managed to catch you just before your head hit the floor. Pulling you into his lap, Rick watched as a ghost of a smile flickered across your lips. With tears streaming down his face, Rick demanded, “Why, darlin’? Why would you do that?”

You silently moved your lips a few times before finally managing to rasp out, “It was always going to end this way….. I was always going to heal a wound... that was just too big for me to handle….. And if it was going to be for someone, I want it to be for you…..” You lifted your hand, your fingers barely brushing against Rick’s cheek. “Besides, my heart has always been yours.” And with a final smile, your hand slipped from his face and Rick watched as the light softly drained from your eyes.

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madkovacs · 3 years ago

Text

Bleeding Heart (Part 2)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: After you sacrificed yourself to save him, Rick hasn't been able to move on. But as his self-destructive behavior reaches an all-time high, a visit from the most unlikely of people may be able to set him straight.

Word Count: 2456

TW: Ghost Reader (?), Reader Death (again), Excessive Drinking, Depression

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

Rick stared up at the water-stained ceiling above his head. The cheap motel bed offered little more comfort than the floor, but he was too wasted to really notice. And another long drag from his nearly empty bottle didn’t help things. But he couldn’t care less. In the span of a few hours, he had lost everything. His job, his military career, his respect for the country he had sworn to protect, Ace…. A final chug finished the bottle.

Of course, it had now been over a week since all that occurred. Corto Maltese was little more than a memory at this point. And so was she. Rick ran his hand down his bare chest until his fingers found the puckered scar that lay just above his heart. The scar that you hadn’t been able to completely erase before your strength gave out. The only proof he still had that you were once real.

But as much as he loved to run his fingers over that evidence of your existence, he also hated it with every fiber of his being. It was a constant reminder of why you were gone. What had been sacrificed for him to still be here. How he had failed you. And he hadn’t even been able to properly avenge your death. Rick had been beyond furious to find out DuBois had already killed Peacemaker by the time he found them. He had wanted the joy of watching the life slip from his eyes just as he had been forced to watch it slip from yours. But that was just another thing that had been taken from him.

Rick’s phone buzzed on the table next to the bed, but he ignored it. It was either Harley or DuBois, and he didn’t want to talk to either of them. He knew they were worried about him, but he didn’t care. He just didn’t care about anything anymore. What was the point? He had lost everything, and he didn’t have the will to keep trying, to keep going. All he wanted now was another bottle.

“Hey, Rick.”

Slowly lifting his head, Rick’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the figure standing at the foot of the bed. He knew it was impossible, yet there you were. In the same dirt and blood splattered clothes you had been wearing the last time he saw you. Your skin was translucent, shimmering as you moved but he could see it was solid and had substance to it. And your face…. a sad smile across your lips, but your eyes shone with light and life. Ace? How?....Oh God, I should not have had that last bottle.

You chuckled softly, the sound catching Rick’s breath in his throat. “No, you shouldn’t have. But that’s not how I’m here.”

You can hear me? My thoughts? How…

“I don’t fully understand it either, but I think it has to do with the fact I gave all of me to save you. Some piece got stuck within you, I guess.”

But then why am I just seeing you now? Why didn’t you show up days ago?

“I was trying to spare you the pain of seeing me like this. Of seeing me at all. I thought it would be easier for you to move on without me hanging around.”

What changed?

“You did, Rick. Look at you! The last three nights you have ended up passed out drunk, alone, in this gross motel room. And if I hadn’t shown up now, you would have been reaching for another one of those bottles in a few minutes. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Baby….this isn’t you.”

Maybe it is now. I don’t know who I am anymore. I lost everything that day. I lost you…and I lost me. And this is the only way I can forget, even for just a little while.

“You don’t have to forget. Forgetting never fixed anything. You need to try to find a way to move on, start your new life, figure out who you want to be now. You are finally free to do whatever you want without Waller breathing down your neck.”

But what I want is you. You should have just let me die instead of you.

“And if I did, what would have happened to me? Even if Waller let me go with everyone else, someone would have taken her place. Found out what I could do and forced me to help them. I told you before, this was inevitable. Isn’t it better that I got to choose? That I got to give everything to save the man I love instead of a random stranger?”

No, not when it was me. Not when I’m the reason you’re gone. How do I live with that?

“How do you not? How do you keep laying here, killing yourself with alcohol night after night? How do you just keep throwing away the life I gave you? How do you keep wasting my sacrifice like this?”

Because…. there is no life worth livin’ without you in it.

“Bullshit! That’s just the whiskey and beers talking. Rick, I love you and I know you loved me, but come on! We only knew each other for a little more than a year. I am not worth throwing your life away for!”

But apparently, I was worth throwing yours away for.

“That’s not fair and you know it! I didn’t have a life to live, you do! Why can’t you just suck it up and live it!”

“Because I still feel you with me! Every day! Every moment! Every beat of this damn heart! How do I move on when every breath I take is just a reminder of you! Of what I took from you!” It was the first time that Rick had actually spoken out loud, his voice filling the small room. As the sound slowly faded, he hung his head in shame.

Slowly, you moved from the foot of the bed, stopping when you were standing just a few inches away from him. “Rick, you didn’t take anything from me. I gave it to you of my own free will. In fact, you tried to stop me. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

I promised you I would get you out, that I would keep you safe, that I would have your back.

“And I promised the same thing. One of us was going to eventually have to break that promise. We both knew, deep down, how this story was going to end.”

Fine, say that’s true. But if you want me to move on so badly, why are you showing up? Why didn’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you just move on?

“I would if I could. I know what this is doing to you, and I’m so sorry. But I told you, my heart was always yours. I guess by giving you a part of my physical heart as well, a part of me still lives in you.”

But that’s not possible.

“Rick, the team just defeated a thousand-foot-tall pink-and-blue space starfish who asexually reproduced thousands of babies which then mind controlled their victims. Yet it’s crazy to think a small piece of my soul could have been transferred to you when I healed you?”

But what does that even mean? If you’re really still here, if a part of you is still alive…. Can I bring you back?

You shook your head sadly. “No, I don’t think so. And I’m afraid what it may do to you if we tried.”

So once again, you can sacrifice yourself for me but I’m not allowed to do the same for you.

“I know, my sweet boy, it doesn’t seem fair. But…”

But nothin’! I saved your body from the wreckage of the building and it’s still in the morgue. We can try something! Anything! I can’t let this be how things end. I need you, Ace. Please.

You whispered a single word. When he stared at you in confusion, you said, "It's my real name."

And at that moment, Rick knew. Up until then, he thought this might all just be a dream brought on by the grief, the alcohol, or some combination of the two. But, hearing your actual name, he knew. This was real. You truly were still with him. And some tiny rational part of his mind nagged at him that it might not be your real name. It might just be something his brain selected to fill in the blank. But deep down, he could feel it. Even as it passed like a whisper from his lips, he could feel it in his bones that it was true. That name was yours. Which meant this ghost, spirit, echo, memory, whatever you were, was also really you too.

He reached out a hand, hesitating just before it made contact, but then pressed it to your cheek. With a weighty sigh, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. Your skin gave off only the slightest warmth and the consistency of your form felt more like touching a shadow than an actual person, but it was still you.

He pulled your face in, lips ready to crush against yours, but your hushed voice gave him pause. “Rick…. don’t. Don’t do this.”

He rested his forehead gently against yours, the sensation no more than a brush against his skin. “Why? You’re here. We can still be what we were. We can still be us.”

You licked your lips while you gazed longingly at his. “Because it’s not us. Because it’s not real. We can’t be what we were, and this will just make the heartbreak that much harder when the time comes. So, I’m asking you, please don’t do this.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care. The heartbreak is already bad enough, this can only make it better. I thought I had lost all of you. And if this…. remnant, this ghost of your soul is all I have left, I’ll take it. And if it’s gone tomorrow…I don’t want to have wasted the time we could have had together.” He could see you hesitating, defenses slowly breaking down. “At least give us the chance to say goodbye.”

You paused for just a second longer before smashing your lips into his, knocking Rick onto his back on the bed. Even with the force behind it, he only felt a slight weight wherever you made contact with him, but he didn’t care. It was more than he thought he would ever have again. He wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you tighter against his strong frame. He could feel a slight dampness on his cheeks as they brushed against your face, wiping away your tears. With your bodies pressed so closely together, he could feel each of your hearts beat in perfect synchronicity.

He rolled over, taking you with him so that you now lay beneath his massive form. Burying his face into your neck, he gently trailed kisses down your throat and across your collarbone. Your hand brushed across his chest, and you suddenly stiffened, inhaling sharply. “Oh!”

Rick pulled away to glance at your stunned face. “What? What is it?”

You blinked a few times before a small smile spread across your face. “I-I understand now. I know what I have to do. I know how to give us both the peace we need.”

“No, darlin’, no. Just don’t do it. Just stay here with me. We’ll find a way to make this work. Together.”

“Oh, Rick. We already got more time than we were supposed to. This moment was a gift, but it’s time to move on.” You took his face in your hands. “But you have to promise me something. Promise me you’ll live your life. That you won’t stay holed up in these sleezy motels, drowning yourself in liquor. Not over me. Please, baby.”

Rick squeezed his eyes together tightly, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. “I’ll try. I can’t guarantee the results, but I promise to try.”

You kissed his forehead. “That is all anyone can ask.” Pulling back, you placed one hand gently over his heart once again. “I love you. I will always love you. And even when I’m gone, know you still carry my love with you wherever you go.”

He felt the familiar pull across his chest as his remaining injuries began to stitch themselves together. His gaze never left your face as your eyes fluttered closed and the most peaceful smile Rick had ever seen bloomed across your lips. Then, in a brilliant flash of gold light, you were gone. Rick collapsed into the empty space below his body and let the tears he had been holding back flow into the sheets below.

The next morning, Rick woke with a groan, his hangover induced headache causing pain to surge through his body with every small movement. Finally gathering enough strength, he staggered out of bed. His dream from the night before kept running through his head. He swore he could still almost feel your lips on his, your breath across his cheek, your hands across his scar. He rubbed his chest at the memory, only to freeze the moment his hand touched smooth skin. Stumbling to the bathroom, he turned on the light as he looked in the mirror. The long, jagged scar that had marred the area above his heart the night before was gone. Instead, all he saw was the unblemished skin that now resided there. The only proof he had that last night had been real. That and….. your name.

He placed one hand over his heart. But whereas last night this action only brought him the cold stabbing pain of loss and regret, he now felt the warm soothing caress of love and devotion. He brought his other hand to rest over his heart as well and he was rewarded with a flash of your last smile. So beautiful and peaceful, nothing like your blank, dead eyed stare that had haunted him since Jötunheim.

Rick let out a small chuckle, glancing around the room. Everything looked exactly the same as it had the night before, but he could sense that something had shifted. He walked over and picked up the empty bottles that littered the floor. Once he had disposed of them, he pulled out the unopened bottles from inside the small refrigerator and tossed them out as well. Gathering the rest of his belongings, he headed to the door. With one final look around, he walked out into the daylight.

He might not know where he was heading or what he was going to do next, but for you, he was going to try.

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