#Making Amends

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 31 - making amends

Cries wails screams sobs I’m finally done I’m gonna cry

This isn’t the best but it’s DONE and that’s all that matters, babey. Thanks to everybody who’s stuck around and read these, I appreciate you all so so much <3 if you want the long version of the thanks go to ao3 lol.

Thank you guys again 💖

Ao3 link

Warnings: brief injury and blood.

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Hyrule had punched Wild in the face.

Time hadn’t seen it happen himself, busy washing clothes with a few of the others, but when the yelling had started and they’d rushed back to camp with their swords drawn, it was blatantly obvious what had happened. Blood was streaming from Wild’s nose, and he and Hyrule both looked furious as Warriors forcibly dragged the two of them apart.

Twilight quickly snagged Wild when he tried to leap forward again, and Sky grabbed Hyrule, the other heroes in camp in varying stages of getting up or in the process of intervening, faces alarmed.

Time frowned, staring at the evidence of the brawl in front of him. More than one punch had obviously been thrown, seeing as Hyrule had a split lip and a shiny eye, Wild with scraped knuckles and a scratched chin that was mostly concealed by the blood running down his face, hair messier than usual. Both of them were further dirty and scuffed and giving each other death glares, and Time lowered his sword as he strode forward.

“And what is going on here?” He demanded, and both boys startled, then resumed their glaring.

“They were arguing about something, I didn’t hear it all,” Warriors admitted when neither of them spoke, crossing his arms.

“It was nothing,” Wild hissed under his breath, and Time raised an eyebrow as more blood dripped from his nose.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Time said flatly, and Wild glared at the ground, Hyrule glaring out at the forest. “What on Farore’s green earth were you two fighting about that was so serious you decided hitting each other was the best course of action?”

Instead of replying, Hyrule finally managed to squirm out of Sky’s grip and bolt into the woods.

“Traveler!” Legend shouted from his place near Time, then growled to himself. “...aaaaand nope he’s gone.”

Wild took their distracted states to also make a break for it, and Time sighed as he disappeared in the opposite direction from Hyrule, both heroes gone in moments.

“Did really nobody hear what started it?” he asked wearily, rubbing a hand over his brow.

“I heard Wild say something about Zelda,” Four spoke up, looking uneasy. “But not much else. I was reading.”

“It seemed like one moment they were just arguing and then the next they were rolling around on the ground at each other’s throats,” Warriors sighed, tapping his fingers on his arm as he spoke. “I apologize. I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”

“Well, I’m going after Wild,” Twilight said with a frown, already turning in the direction the champion had gone. “These woods are dangerous, I don’t want him running off alone even if he is mad.”

“I’ll go find our traveler,” Time added, and Legend shrugged, turning back the way they’d come.

“Have fun. I don’t want to untangle that mess. I’ll go get the laundry.”

Time went one way and Twilight went the other, and everyone else mostly went back to what they were doing (with the exception of Legend, who nearly tripped in his haste to get back to the river when he realized their clothes were trying to wash away).

Time followed the faint trail Hyrule had left, the signs of someone passing this way a bit more obvious than they’d normally be. Hyrule really must have been mad if he hadn’t taken the time to be as cautious. Time frowned to himself as he walked, purposely taking his time. He figured he’d give Hyrule some time to cool down, but in the meantime he wondered what it was that had set the two of them off so much.

Wild and Hyrule usually got on like a house on fire, and when they argued, it was usually just in jest. Four had said Zelda had come up, but how had that gotten them to the point of blows? Had that really been the only issue?

Time sighed and shook his head. He wouldn’t know until he found the traveler.

Assuming he’s willing to talk.

A few more minutes of walking went by before Time heard a noise, and he followed it, listening intently. He stepped over a small stream, and found Hyule pacing in an angry little circle around the clearing he’d come upon. His face was red and his eye had further swollen, a little bit of blood still staining his lip, but his cheeks also looked damp from something besides blood. Time stepped forward and Hyrule leveled a glare on him, which turned to a confused look as he realized which hero it was.

Time nodded a greeting, but didn’t do anything else, merely stayed where he was while Hyrule blinked at him. His surprise quickly slipped away, and Hyrule huffed, turning away from him.

“Come to drag me back to camp?” he asked, voice strangely level.

“No, Twilight merely mentioned these woods are dangerous, and it would be unwise to be alone,” Time replied, and Hyrule blinked again, then waved him off, his sour expression easing a bit.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Perhaps, but it’s nice to have backup. Especially if you can’t see very well,” Time said, and Hyrule raised an eyebrow.

“I could say the same of you,” he said as he crossed his arms. “Can you see very well? You may keep the lid closed but I’ve seen you flicker your eye before.”

His tone was sharp, and Time frowned. “We’re not here to talk about me,” Time said firmly, and Hyrule turned away again. Time sighed, and made an effort to soften his voice when he spoke again. “Hyrule, what happened?”

The traveler looked down at the leaf litter, bits of moss and grasses sticking up from between the leaves. He nudged at a fern that was still uncurling, then sighed and kicked at the ground.

“Wild doesn’t get it,” he bit out, not looking at Time. “Doesn’t get our situations were different. He thinks— he thinks Zelda is just—”

Hyrule let out a growl of frustration, raising a hand to wipe at his cheek.

“He doesn’t get it!” Hyrule continued as his hands tightened into fists. “I know she’s not weak, but she’s just a young lady! She can’t fight, and if she tried and she was hurt I’d— I’d never forgive myself, and Wild— why does he— rrrgh!”

Hyrule harshly kicked a rock off into the woods, then sat down on a log with a hard thump.

He went silent, and Time cautiously joined his side, sitting beside him on the log when he made no move to stop him. They didn’t speak for several moments, and Time looked up at the trees, most green, some yellow, a handful already turning to orange and red. A bright blue bird flew past, calling a short song into the air, and its mate answered off in the distance.

Hyrule sighed, and his shoulders abruptly slumped.

“I don’t know why I hit him,” Hyrule whispered. “We’ve... it was a stupid argument. Things have just been so tense since Twi...”

He shook his head and stared at the ground, and Time slowly breathed out.

It was true. Their entire group had been on edge since Twilight’s brush with death, and apparently the tension was still as strong as ever despite his recovery. Enough to make two heroes that normally got on better than most of them to exchange blows.

Over Zelda of all things.

“I would bet that the champion feels similarly,” Time said quietly, Hyrule still staring at the ground. “You may have hit him, but it’s quite obvious he hit you back, and I doubt he meant to go so far either.”

“Maybe. We were really going at it,” Hyrule mumbled, wiping more blood off his chin. “I don’t know what came over me. He was being stupid, and I just couldn’t... ugh.”

Hyrule slumped further over, and kicked at the leaves with his boot.

“Do you think he hates me?” he said, so quietly Time barely heard it.

Time sighed, then made sure Hyrule was looking when he shook his head “No. Our champion has been hit by a lot worse than a punch. I doubt he’ll hate you for a broken nose,” Time reassured, and Hyrule’s eyes went wide.

“Did I really break his nose?!”

“It... looked that way,” Time admitted, and guilt rushed across Hyrule’s swelling face. “We have plenty of potions, traveler, I’m sure there’s no permanent harm done.”

Hyrule looked away from him and nodded, though he still looked guilty. He suddenly sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, a strange mixture of emotions on his face.

“I hate this. I hate the shadow,” he whispered. “If it wasn’t for him— I hate that Twilight almost died. If my spell hadn’t worked— it almost didn’t— he...”

His voice died, and Hyrule swallowed as Time’s stomach lurched unpleasantly.

He’d been trying not to dwell on that night, but memories suddenly flooded his brain without his permission. Hyrule pushing and pushing and passing out from sheer exhaustion, Twilight pale as the moon outside as he clung weakly to life, Time staying up to watch the both of them as he weighed his ocarina in his hand, his eye fixed on Twilight’s chest, heart skipping a beat every time his breath hitched.

It had been days now, but the anxiety was still there, and Time hadn’t realized just how much it had been affecting everyone else.

“Traveler, you did admirably,” Time said in a quiet voice, setting a hand on his arm. “Despite everything you managed to heal him, which was more than any of the rest of us could do. You saved Twilight’s life. And you have my eternal thanks for that.”

Hyrule’s face turned red for a reason besides injury, and he looked away as Time squeezed his shoulder.

“But Twilight isn’t the issue at the moment,” Time continued, setting aside his turbulent thoughts. “You and Wild are. Your arguing is none of my business, but coming to blows is a real issue.”

“He deserved it,” Hyrule said viciously, then wilted, sighing. “I know. I should... probably apologize.”

“That seems wise,” Time agreed with a smile, and offered a hand to Hyrule. “Shall we head back?”

Hyrule hesitated, and Time saw something flash in his gaze. “Maybe not... just yet,” he mumbled, and Time nodded.

“That sounds fine. We should probably give him time to cool off further anyway. Our champion has quite the temper."

"He's not the only one, Hyrule admitted with a tiny smile.

Time and Hyrule spent a good hour just sitting there, listening to the woods and the tiny creek, not really talking much at all. Hyrule didn’t heal himself or take the potion Time offered, but Time didn’t press it. If he couldn’t convince him to heal himself now, he was sure Legend or the captain could. Maybe even Wild, once they made up.

Which Time was confident would happen.

They'd better.

Right as the sun began to sink behind the tree trunks, Hyrule raised his head and stood, exhaling slowly. Time stood up as well, and they wordlessly headed back to camp, Hyrule staying quiet.

The walk seemed much shorter on the way back, and it wasn’t long before they broke through the trees of the clearing where they’d set up, six gazes flickering their way, a seventh staring at the ground. The silence stretched, and Wind quickly resumed the conversation he’d paused when Time and Hyrule had appeared, which made everyone get back to what they’d been doing as well.

Time couldn’t help studying Wild as everyone pretended things were normal, and he sighed.

Wild’s nose had obviously been taken care of, the blood cleaned from his face, but his chin had a bandage on it, and his nose looked a little red. He was crouched by the fire, ignoring Hyrule, and stirring some kind of soup that Time had smelled long before they’d arrived. Twilight was sitting beside him, cutting off slices of warm bread, and Time gently clapped Hyrule on the shoulder before he went to go sit down.

Hyrule’s jaw worked for a moment as he stood in the middle of camp, and then he slowly walked over to Wild and Twilight, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“Do you... need any help?” he asked, and though Wild didn’t react, Twilight looked up, smiling at him.

“Here, you can finish slicing this,” he offered, handing Hyrule the bread and the knife. “You’ll probably get the pieces more even than me anyway.”

Hyrule hesitantly took them, and Twilight scooted over, making room for Hyrule between him and Wild. Hyrule to his credit didn’t hesitate, sitting down without another word, though he left plenty of room between him and the champion.

Time watched them from his place beside Warriors, and the captain watched the two of them intently, obviously ready to get up at the slightest show of aggression. But Wild and Hyrule, despite only being a foot apart, were very effectively pretending the other wasn’t there, Wild sprinkling salt in his soup, Hyrule methodically slicing bread.

Time watched Wild cook, the champion firmly keeping his head turned away from Hyrule, and he raised an eyebrow as he realized what kind of soup he was making. Hyrule’s gaze flickered to the pot as Wild tossed in some herbs, and he blinked, obviously realizing what Time just had.

Wild had made Hyrule’s favorite.

Hyrule swallowed, and he set the bread down onto a cloth, finished slicing it up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly Time barely made it out. Wild paused in his stirring, his hood effectively hiding his expression from the angle Time was sitting, and Wind’s laugh at something Sky said felt out of place.

Wild slowly leaned over, taking something out of his pouch, and he carefully ladled hot soup into the bowl he’d grabbed.

Then he offered it to Hyrule.

Hyrule blinked, Twilight stilled beside him, and Time and Warriors watched in silence as he stared at the steam rising slowly from the bowl.

“Me too,” Wild whispered, his expression somehow miserable and awkward and exhausted all at the same time.

Hyrule gave him a wobbly smile and accepted the bowl, and though neither of them said anything further, it was like a fog had lifted off of their group. The mood instantly seemed to get lighter, and Warriors gave Time a relieved look.

Time returned it, and watched with a smile as Wild scooted closer to Hyrule, and the two began passing out food to everyone. They began quietly talking, and Time's smile grew as Hyrule blushed, and Wild grinned at something, tapping his nose.

Time stood up and got his own bowl, and watched the two of them carrying on like nothing had happened at all. Hyrule shot him a small smile as he walked over, and Time sat down beside Twilight, returning it as he casually slung an arm around his descendant.

Twilight leaned against him a little, and Time took a sip of soup, the warmth it sent to his stomach nothing compared to the warmth all around him.

[khoirkid]

Not totally Angry - IsArt Sketches in collaboration with @amethystfairy1

Can you believe it??? We did whumptober!!! Thank you so much for the support and please please please give Amethyst all the love in the world, this has been a labor of love and it’s been so wonderful to support with my art

[amethystfairy1]

"These guys are a wreck..." -Gem, probably.

We did folks! The last Whumptober prompt is up, and that means that I've completed Whumptober 2024, and this is the FIRST TIME I've ever completed a month long writing event on time! I'm so happy! And of course thank you to @khoirkid for the motivation and gorgeous illustrations to accompany the works! I hope you enjoy this last piece for the collection!

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 31

making amends / Make a Wish

Simultaneously posted to AO3 here.

"If you could make a wish for anything in the world, what would you wish for?"

As was so often the case nowadays, Yuu and Tsunotaro were walking through some of the crumbling buildings of Night Raven's campus, just the two of them.

At this hour, most of the lights were off. It made Yuu feel as though the two of them were at the brink of the world’s consciousness, and though it was isolating, it was also somewhat comforting to be alone with Tsunotaro.

Comforting... wasn't the right word.

Comfort could not describe the feeling that had begun to poke Yuu more and more nowadays.

It bloomed like a flower around Tsunotaro, drinking up his rainlike praise with zest.

Like the bud of a delicate flower, their feelings were similarly veritable to be bruised or snapped if the winds blew too sharply.

This is why Yuu refused to investigate the felling any further, afraid if they nudged it too hard, it would die.

Tsunotaro was just so hard to read. On the best of days, he was an open book, generous with the stories he chose to share with Yuu.

On the worst, he was sly, often bordering on duplicitous. He seemed to want to catch Yuu in a trap were they contradicted themselves, the only apparent reason for why being because he could.

"What would I wish for...?" he mused gently.

"Yep! Anything you want! Just one, though," they said, a goofy smile on their face.

It was such a simple question, perhaps even a frivolous one, but Yuu found their own sort of pleasure in drawing the mundane from the magnificent.

"Hmmm. What are the bounds of this wish?" he asked.

"I dunno. You can't wish for more wishes, I guess."

"How many laws of nature am I allowed to break?"

"Uhhh... just tell me your wish!" exclaimed Yuu.

He shook his head. "I don't have one. I was trying to establish the boundaries so I would have more Ideas."

Yuu sighed, laughing just a little at the end.

"What about you?" he inquired. "Do you have a wish you'd like to share?"

A wave of thrill rose up from Yuu's stomach to their spine at the words.

"I think... I think I'd want a way to make my soulmate stay with me forever."

They winced as Tsunotaro laughed.

"What a simple notion," he said, as his chortles died down. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you. It's very romantic, is all."

Yuu's brow furrowed, stamping out their hurt feelings.

"I guess," they said, trying to suck the venom out of his words with their nonchalant words.

"It's simply..." Tsunotaro trailed off, gesturing with his hands in the night air. "I cannot imagine finding any one person so alluring, that that's what I'd wish for before anything else."

"Really?" said Yuu, surprised. It wasn't their own feelings they were thinking of- Tsunotaro always gave off such a princely, dare they say romantic, air.

But Yuu wasn't blind enough to think of him as a prince on a white horse in silver armor. No, Tsunotaro was a man of shadows, who loved dearly but sparingly.

"That kind of love," he continued. "It's dangerous, or at least that's my impression."

Yuu hummed. He did have a point.

"But isn't there something so romantic about that?" they insisted, not able to let it go. "Loving someone so hard you lose yourself, being unable to tell where you end and where they begin? I mean, people go their whole lives never finding their soulmate."

Yuu smiled to themselves. "I'd rather have my soulmate and face all the problems in the world, than be able to sidestep a few alone."

Tsunotaro gave them a curious glance out of the corner of his eye.

"There isn't," he replied. "Not to me, anyway."

"A person like that?"

"A feeling so strong that could make me supersede all logic like that," he explained.

His face darkened.

"That kind of love is fleeting. Hoping for it to last longer than a moment would be like catching a wild bird in a cage. It will either fly away or die of despair."

Yuu pursed their lips. "That's pretty grim."

"Ah. I apologize."

"It's ok," they said quickly, wanting to smooth over the situation.

"I see the appeal, but I suppose I'd simply rather live untouched, never knowing a love so deep so it could never leave a hole in my heart."

"I get that."

"But you'd still want that, then? Your wish would be a powerful love, even if it were fleeting?"

"I do," said Yuu with a swell of confidence. "Even just a moment of pure love like that is better than a whole life without it, right? Comparatively?"

Tsunotaro looked off to the side.

"I'd rather not," he reiterated. "I'd rather live in ignorance, and never fear losing what I never had."

They walked in silence, and Yuu sensed they'd upset him with their choice of topic.

"Hey," they said. "What'd you think about the magift game this last weekend?"

--

Encircled in fire, the courtyard burned brightly as Yuu stood in its center.

The smoke was turning the sky an odd color, and the flames cast the serene garden in a macabre light, and it morphed the shadows on Malleus's face, framing him in a grim, desperate way.

At least, that;s what Yuu thought, from what they could see. Their vision wasn't doing so good these days.

The circles under Malleus's eyes were deepened by the grotesque light, and he kept a loose hold on his staff as he held his other hand up in surrender.

"Please," he said, defeated. "Let us discuss this."

"We. Have. Talked." spat Yuu, clipping the end of each word to ensure they'd be emphasized. "You have talked."

"Yes," he conceded readily, head bobbing in agreement. "I have spoken, more than my fair share. That is why I want to listen now."

Yuu said nothing, trying to amp up the intensity of their glare.

He was talking to them like they were a wild animal to be herded. His words were laced with sugary sweetness, trying to get them to swallow the bitter medicine of his words.

"I remember," he said. "I remember what you said back then. About a great love."

It took a few moments for Yuu to remember the conversation. Their walks felt like they were a lifetime ago now.

Why bring that up now, though?

"I see now. I see the value in such a thing," he said, a pleading undercurrent entering his voice.

Yuu remained unmoved.

It was what they wanted to hear, but too little, and far too late.

Their lack of reaction must have confused him as to their receptiveness of his words, because he took a step forward.

Yuu instantly took one too, flashing their weapon, and Malleus took two backwards.

His surrendering stance had reasserted itself, and he kept his hand up.

A stray bit of something tickled Yuu's bad eye, and they reflexively tried to blink it away before remembering that made it worse.

Instead, they reached up to wipe away the copious amount of blood dripping from their wounded eye, hoping this time, it would be the last.

They couldn't quite get it clean enough to see out of, no matter how much they cleaned, and when they dragged their sleeve below where they thought their eyes was, Yuu ended up tugging at something that sent more blood rushing down their face.

The sight made Malleus cringe in disgust, or pity, or something.

It was some victory.

"I want that," he said again, a tremor in his voice. "Please."

Yuu stayed still, and the intimidation tactic worked.

"Between us, you were the only one who wanted to fight for love. Allow me to fight for you. Let me make our few moments last a lifetime's worth of happiness."

Something ran down Yuu's cheek, and they brushed it away.

It would have been romantic, had it been a tear shedding, but Yuu knew that was unlikely, with the tangy smell of blood so close to their nose.

"Isn't it worth it? To taste at the fountain of love, even if you could never drink again?" he said, giving his voice a stamp of triumph.

Yuu was fed up with this. Malleus's hopeless prattling, in an attempt to extend their own life by even a few minutes, had worn out the last shreds of Yuu's patience.

He had no right to do this now. They felt a bit angry, but mostly, hearing what they'd wanted to hear for so long just hollowed them out.

"I'd honestly rather die," they said flatly.

Yuu raised the gun, and pulled back the hammer.

[crimsonwolf715]

Adjusting

(Part 4 of Adventures of the Batfamily)

Jason’s making toast after patrol, so around midnight. He grabs a butterknife and starts poking at the butter while waiting for his toast to finish. Once his toast is done, he pulls it out and starts putting butter on it. Someone grabs his shoulder, startling Jason. He has the knife at their throat in an instant on reflex. Dick looks surprised and concerned, his hand still on Jason’s shoulder. 

Jason lowers the knife and sighs. “Don’t sneak up on me.” 

He grabs the toast and heads upstairs without another word. He eats the toast while gathering clothes so he can shower. After showering, Jason starts reading. He looks up at the clock after reading for a while. Three in the morning and he’s nowhere near tired. 

Sometimes I wish that I was willing to get medicated for my terrible insomnia.  

“Jason!” Jason hears Bruce cry out, like he’s in pain. 

He reacts before he even has time to think about it. He drops his book and rushes to Bruce’s room, pushing the door fully open. Bruce is still in bed, shaking like a leaf. Jason walks over and Bruce opens his eyes. 

“Jason?” Bruce asks. 

“Hey,” Jason says hesitantly. 

“My baby.” Bruce pulls him into a rib crushing hug. 

What the actual hell is happening right now?  

“You okay, Bruce?” Jason asks. 

“Yes. You’re back, I’m fine,” Bruce says slowly, then lets Jason go. 

Jason notices Tim in the doorway. “You handled that better than Dick did the first time he saw it.” 

“I feel like my brain shut off,” Jason says. 

“That may be why you reacted better, but you still did,” Tim replies with a shrug. “You need anything, Bruce?” 

“No, I’m okay. You two should go back to sleep,” Bruce answers. 

“Come on. We can talk in the hallway.” 

Jason walks outside with Tim. 

“Is he okay?” Jason asks. 

Tim shrugs. “He has nightmares. Some are about your death, others are about other traumatic things that have happened. He’s got PTSD, so it’s not surprising. He’ll be okay if you don’t go running. I try to get there within a reasonable time, but it’s not necessary to run. Unless he’s yelling, he won’t wake up before you get there.” 

Jason nods. “You sure are calm about this.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been dealing with this since I started as Robin. He used to wake up and think that I was you. Usually, that didn’t end well. Since Dick came back into his life and Damian showed up, it hasn’t been so bad. It doesn’t happen as frequently. Alfred will take care of it sometimes.” 

“Speaking of the murder baby, where is he?”

“He’s at Jon’s house,” Tim answers. “Bruce lets him go over for sleepovers as long as Superman isn’t there that night.” 

“Beef with Superman?” 

“Kinda. Supes isn’t really great to the kids in his life. Kon and Jon. Bruce just doesn’t want to give Damian an opportunity to kill Superman.” 

“Huh, probably not a bad call.” 

“I think I’m gonna go back to bed though,” Tim says. “I’ve got therapy and if I seem too tired, I’ll get grilled about my sleeping habits again.” 

“ ‘Night, Tim,” Jason says. 

“Goodnight, Jason. Try not to think about that too much. He’s fine.” 

Jason watches Tim walk back to his room, then walks back to his own room. He picks his phone up to check the time and notices that Dick texted him, but chooses to ignore it for the moment. 

I’ll respond to him later, once I’ve gotten some sleep.  

He climbs into bed and stays awake thinking about the events of the last hour for another hour before he falls asleep. 

Later that day around 4:30 pm

Dick walks into the cafe and looks around. His eyes fall on Barbara and he smiles. He walks over and pulls the chair around so he can sit directly next to her. 

“Hey,” she says. 

He leans his head against her and she pats his shoulder. 

“What happened?” she asks. 

“I… I triggered Jason’s trauma and he’s been avoiding me since,” Dick answers. 

“How long has it been?” 

“I visited last night for dinner and it happened then.” 

“Maybe try going to talk to him once we’re done here.” 

“But can’t I just stay with you?” 

“No. I’m doing girl’s night with Stephanie and some others.” 

“Damn it.” 

Barbara starts running her hand through Dick’s hair. He allows himself to stay like that for a couple minutes, then sits up. 

“I don’t want to ruin the mood of our date anymore.” 

“Well, I’m always willing to listen and give wonderful advice.” 

Dick sighs. “What would I do without you?” 

“Melt. Like the Wicked Witch.” 

The two laugh, then get to talking about their lives and Dick’s job in Blüdhaven. Dick looks at his watch after a while. 

“Ah, I gotta go. I’m expected at dinner in like an hour and I have to talk to Jason. Do you want me to get you another drink before I leave?” 

“Yes, please. I want one for the road.” 

After getting Barbara another drink, the two kiss then head their separate ways. 

Tim walks out of the therapy office and Stephanie’s waiting. 

“Hey,” Stephanie says. 

“Hey,” Tim echoes, then yawns. 

“Long night?” 

“Long morning. I’ll be glad for coffee.” 

The two start walking towards their usual coffee shop. 

“Which person?” Stephanie asks. 

“Bruce,” Tim answers. “I talked to Jason for a bit, but Bruce woke me up.” 

They walk in silence for a bit, focusing more on the road than conversation. Once they get to the coffee shop and order, they take a seat. 

“So how was therapy?” 

“It was therapy. I can tell with one hundred percent certainty, Bruce and the others could benefit from it.” 

Stephanie nods. The barista calls out Tim’s name, so the two go and get their coffees. They chat for a while about school, work, and all the other little things. Tim’s grateful to have Stephanie to talk to about all the craziness in his life. 

“So, how’s everyone been dealing with Jason being back? He’s been back for like a month and a half, right?” 

Tim nods. 

“Everyone’s taking it as well as they can. Damian acts like he may have met him before with how casual he is with Jason. I’m not really sure what’s going on there. Dick’s been doing surprisingly well considering he decked Jason the first time he saw him after he found out. Bruce seems hesitantly thrilled. Like he’s worried if he acts too excited, that Jason will disappear again. Alfred’s pretty normal considering everything. Seems a little happier when Jason shows up to meals, but is otherwise normal. I’m dealing with it fine. I dealt with all the ‘he tried to kill me’ stuff pretty quickly considering everyone’s attempted it. It’d be weirder if I got a new brother, and he didn’t try to kill me.” 

“Well, at least everyone’s adjusting. Barbara was worried you guys wouldn’t be able to adjust properly.” 

“Probably something Dick said then. He’s… He’s got a lot of guilt when it comes to Jason, so it isn’t helping. Speaking of which, are you gonna be able to come over for dinner?” 

“No, I’ve got girl’s night,” Stephanie answers. 

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that was today,” Tim replies. 

Stephanie laughs. “I’ll come help mediate family dinner tomorrow.” 

Tim sighs. “No need to mediate. It’ll just be us kids outside of Dick tomorrow.” 

Stephanie raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe you will need to mediate. That may turn into a thing.” 

Stephanie nods. “I need to go though. I have to get home, get ready, and then get to the place. So much traveling.” 

“I can drive you if you want,” Tim says. 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Stephanie replies, “but you behave yourself.” 

“No promises.” 

The two hug, then head in opposite directions back home. 

Dick knocks on Jason’s bedroom door. “Hey, Jason?” 

Jason looks up. “Yeah?” 

“Can I talk to you?” 

“Why couldn’t you?” 

“I thought you were angry with me.” 

“About last night?” 

Dick nods. 

“No. I’m not mad about that, Dickhead. I trigger my own trauma and I know what triggers me. Come here.” 

Dick walks into the room and sits down next to Jason. 

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that,” Jason says. 

“Only sometimes,” Dick replies. “I brought you cookies.” 

“Wow, you felt really guilty. You never used to do this kind of shit unless you felt horrible.” 

Dick sighs and looks at his hands, which are placed in his lap. “I wanted to apologize.” 

“For? I just said that I even trigger my trauma sometimes.” 

“I know it looks like I just like our other siblings better because I treat them differently than I treated you, but that isn’t the case.” 

Jason leans back, putting his weight on his hands. “Yeah, it does feel like that. I begged you to spend time with me and you refused. Damian barely has to ask for you to come driving thirty minutes to take him anywhere. You’ve shown up for Tim whenever he’s asked. I watched you guys for so long and you never once denied them unless you absolutely had to.” 

“I know, but what happened with you is why I spend so much time with them. You left this gaping hole in my life and I hated the way that everything happened. Yeah, I originally spent so much time with them out of guilt, but I love them. I lost so much and while Bruce fixed some of that, it didn’t fix the rest of it. I’m sorry that things happened the way they did.” 

Jason moves his arms so he drops onto his bed. “We’re screwed up, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dick puts the box of cookies on the nightstand. 

“Eh. I forgive you, I guess,” Jason says. 

“Thanks,” Dick replies. “I promise that I’ll do better now.” 

“You’d better. I’m not begging you to do shit with me.” 

Dick nods. The two sit in comfortable silence for a while. Jason keeps poking Dick, which he ignores entirely. Dick’s phone dings, so he picks it up. 

“Alfred wants to know what we want for dinner,” Dick says. 

“Umm… I don’t care as long as I don’t have to cook it,” Jason says. 

“I’m gonna tell him that you’re indecisive.” 

“Well, he’ll take that at face value so I don’t care. Can you do something for me?” 

Dick turns back to look at Jason. “That depends on what it is.” 

“Can you hold me accountable? I know I don’t completely agree with you guys, but just make sure that I don’t go overboard.” 

“So you’re asking me for help on hero work?” 

Jason nods. 

“I’ll do it. You just have to promise me that if I say you’re going overboard, that you take a good look at what you’re doing. If you can’t, then my judgment overrules however you feel about it.” 

“You got it, boss.” 

Dick’s phone dings again, so he looks at it. 

Tim: We’re having pizza. Tell Jason thank you.  

“Not really sure why, but Tim told me to tell you that he’s thankful,” Dick says. 

“We’re having pizza then,” Jason replies. 

Tim: Also, come down. We’re setting the table for dinner and Bruce got back.  

“Come on. We’re setting the table and annoying our father by saying hello all at the same time.” 

Dick and Jason head downstairs where Tim and Damian are setting the table. 

“Hey, Dami. When did you get back?” Dick asks, ruffling his hair. 

“This afternoon,” Damian answers. 

“How did I miss you?” 

“How did you miss me?” Damian asks, not looking at Dick as he keeps setting out napkins.

Dick shrugs. 

“I was in my room with my animals and you went straight into Todd’s room when you came in.” 

“That tracks.” 

Once the pizza gets there, everyone settles down at the table to eat. The first ten minutes are mostly in silence. Finally, Bruce breaks the silence. 

“How was everyone’s day?” Bruce asks.

“Mine was fine,” Jason answers. “I just stayed at home all day.” 

“Fine,” Tim answers with a shrug. “Stephanie’s doing well too.” 

“I just had a date, so not a lot to report,” Dick answers. 

“You know what? I do have something,” Jason says. “Dick’s so dramatic. I forgot to respond to his text and he thought I was angry with him.” 

“It’s more complicated than that and you know it,” Dick replies, pointing his fork at Jason. 

“Don’t threaten your brother with your fork,” Bruce says. 

Dick puts his fork down, but still glares at Jason. Jason’s smiling. 

“This argument is stupid,” Damian says. “You already knew that Grayson was sensitive, it’s not new for him.” 

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not.” 

“Damian’s just being honest,” Tim replies with a shrug. 

“You guys are so mean,” Dick says, not serious at all. 

He smiles as he watches Jason and Tim bicker about something while Damian’s conversing with Bruce. They’ll get through this, all of them.

[psychologeek]

Whumptobrt #30+31: TimKlone (end scene)

Whumptober index - there are at least 5\6 parts in the series before this No. 30: recovery | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?" No. 31: asking for help | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.) If anyone wondered "I'm alive, I'm just not well" is a perfect summarry of my current state.

"What's her Kryptonian name?"

Tim stays silent for a moment.

"She... doesn't have one," he finally says, quietly. "

He looks at his daughter, avoiding her father.

"Tim-"

"I- I couldn't, I'm sorry. I know, I could have asked Clark or Kara or- but it didn't feel right. It didn't feel- I'm sorry, I couldn't -"

And there's a hand around him.

"It's okay".

"No, it's not," Tim still doesn't look away from the child in his arm. "It's - it's also her culture. Her traditions. I was - I shouldn't left her out".

"You didn't," is the  quiet reply. "You did your best, and that is enough."

Tim is-

Tim is sitting there, a baby in his arms, and there's another's hand who wipes her face as he cries.

(There's another hand that holds him).

~

"How do you say light?"

The question comes out of nowhere.

"Light?"

"No," Kon says. "Not in English. In that language you sometimes humm in. I remember you once gave an hour long lecture about why Kryptonian names doesn't make any sense. Something about Kal means easy or lightweighted?"

 There's a moment of confusion before Tim realises.

"Or"

"Or what?" Kon looks confused. "What are the options?"

"No, that's how you say light in Hebrew. 'Or'."

Kon's eyes widen with horror,"I'm not calling our daughter Orel! "

"It's actually pronounced Or-el, not o-re-l," Tim corrects him unnoticed.

"I mean, you can also have 'Ori', which means 'my light', or Uri- which is aort of, more ancient and less used? But it means 'my fire'. It's actually also considered to be one of the angels that sits over a newborn's cradle to-"

"Ori," Kon mumbles behind him. "my light. I like it. Ori-El. It's you and me, both of our history, but together. New. And it's a reminder: I'll always have a place to call home, I'll always have a light to guide me. Even in the darkest times."

~

(Like it? I have more mini-fics Whumptober index | And full size fics on ao3. )

[echosong-87]

A king and his brother.

Since Viva had that fuzzy cape... I could see her make the fuzzy shawl for Branch's king design... and yeah!!

After being free from the diamond prison... it not only drained him from his talent... but all of his strength... which is why Floyd look super old and frail and malnourished.

I suck at drawing crowns... still not a fan at this crown design.

This is Floyd showing/leading King Branch to the tree or homeplace that he made for Branch and himself.

Branch is secretly hovering a wing over him in case Floyd faints or loses the feeling of his legs... or he lost his cane or walker... whichever.

Branch may still be in anger at Floyd and their other brothers but he still deeply cares for each of them.

[the-ever-evolving-queendom]

I feel his speech is still relevant to this day. Now more than ever I think the world needs to hear what he has to say.

@moonchildsthoughts longer version that I found. @voraciouskingdom @thelasthippie

[kybercrystals94]

Talk

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 31 - Prompt: Making Amends

Rated: G | Words: 100

“I said talk to him, not argue with him,” Omega hisses. 

Crosshair sighs, balking at the one-sided blame. “He started it.” 

Omega rolls her eyes and walks away. 

She thinks it’s easy to just talk to Hunter. It might be for her. He sees how soft his brothers are with her. Even he’s experienced how she’s smoothed his sharp edges with her persistent warmth. It may be easy for Omega to speak and be spoken to, but words - particularly the right words - don’t come easily to him. 

Besides, talking won’t be enough to make amends with Hunter. 

Not this time. 

I did it!! 31 one prompts in 31 days…another Whumptober in the books!! Thank you to everyone who supported and encouraged me this month! You all are amazing ♥️

I do have some stories I plan on finishing up! They aren’t abandoned…I just didn’t want to cram them in when they deserve more love and attention than I was giving them!

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump @skellymom

[whump-me]

Whumptober 2024 Day 31: Making Amends

“I know who you are.” She fixed the visitor with a cold stare. “And I know what you did.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He hung his head. “To make amends. I regret everything I did to her.”

“You made her your prisoner. You tortured her to death.”

“I was a different person then.”

“Your apologies can’t bring her back.”

“I know.” He lowered himself to his knees. “Which is why I came here to offer you my life in exchange.”

She studied him like a cut of beef. “I accept your offer,” she said at last. “But it’ll be slow.”

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 31 - making amends (We made it!!)

Warnings: none I can think of

Word Count: 3k (gif not mine)

Summary: A decision is made about whether Natasha is all allowed to stay at Shield.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

A/N: a couple of things on this one. Firstly happy Halloween or happy boops for those that celebrate. Second y’all can thank @broken--bow for the completion of this years whumptober and the decrease in errors (all mistakes are ofc my own) - thank you my friend (those words never seem enough); third, vote blue like you’re life depends on it (us politics are insidious in how they effect other countries so please brave the polls however you can) and last, this fic ended up 53k words (in a month!) It’s been an enjoyable write and I hope an enjoyable read but so hard, if you’ve ever written then I’m sure you know how hard it can be to get the words out and making it work alongside prompts and a semi coherent story line can be tricky. So to everyone who’s followed it, my love to you all, esp to those that have encouraged with words (and hearts) , you will forever have my thanks. As always a break for now, until the next fic <3

.

Natasha looks around the office, the way it feels generic and familiar at the same time.

Maria, on her left, flicks through the old magazine, scoffing at something whilst Clint paces.

She gets that he’s nervous, but Maria’s nonchalance betrays nerves on her side as well.

Natasha just feels numb.

Tired.

If she doesn’t pass, it’s not their fault.

She hasn’t asked what happens to her, if she doesn’t.

She feels that if they don’t want her, there’s nothing she can do.

If they don’t pass her… what would Olivia do? Would she withhold the information?

Keep it from her?

It was the only parameter; albeit a big one.

Natasha forces a small breath, realising she’d been holding it for too long.

Schooling her body into stillness, she waits with them. Coulson enters, and the woman at the front desk looks up. He nods to her and sits next to Natasha.

She feels her face grow hot.

Embarrassed, she looks at the people who are on her side. It’s not many, but it’s more than she’s ever had.

People that have fought with her and for her.

She swallows the emotions.

She doesn’t have the luxury of hope now.

A man appears at the door, his face stern and without emotion.

“We’re ready,” he announces.

“Barton, you’re first.”

Maria looks up, putting the magazine away.

He follows the man into the room, taking one last look at Natasha as he offers her a rueful smile.

.

“Barton,” greets Fury.

Clint thought there would be more people; not just Fury and a man he had never met before.

This feels better to him.

More fair.

“My name, is Rupert,” the man states, his accent British.

Clint can’t help but give him a lazy grin.

It’s not returned.

He wonders if it was the wrong choice, he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this, he needs to make this okay.

Natasha’s file folder sits in front of him and Clint corrects himself.

“Sir,” he nods, adjusting his posture and leaning slightly forward.

He’d learn quickly in the military, of how to manipulate men in position.

Rupert nods to that, the ranking of respect seemingly going further than Clint thought.

He opens the folder.

Natasha’s young face stares at Clint, she can’t have been more than 8 or 9, her eyes dead but still very clearly her.

Clint rips his eyes away, choosing not to look down again; lest the grief of her be his down fall.

For intents and purposes, the therapy room is a good place for this.

A place Natasha is familiar with, but also not the cold view of the debrief room, where all of them had made her relive hard memories and brutal traumas.

Fury sits forward.

“Nine months ago, you brought Romanoff in. You said that she could make a difference, and help us take down the remnants of the Red Room. Since then, tell us what you think of her now. Was your initial assessment correct?”

Clint knew the questions were coming.

“Yessir.”

“Elaborate.”

Clint swallows, he’d practiced with Maria, having all his thoughts together, but now in the moment, his fear seems to override his brain.

“I.. Uh, I..”

They look at him expectantly and he hazards a glance at the picture.

“She’s worth it. You have, everything that she’s disclosed, all the information that she willing parted with, given up locations and players in a very wide game of chess, and done it at expense to herself.”

Clint takes a breath, now started the words seem easier.

“I don’t know what your experiences are around reliving trauma, but she’s done it because we asked her, she’s relived experiences so that a piece of the puzzle makes more sense for us, so that we can see how it fits into a larger picture. Natasha is an asset, she’s proved herself, look at shield - she’s the one that confirmed - with the intelligence sources that she had, that helped us root out the gangrenous scourge.”

Fury raises an eyebrow.

“I asked her afterwards, I said to her that she could leave, because Shield was not what we promised her. We kept her in the bowels of compound for months, she was poisoned and picked on and then watched me get beaten, and you know what she said?”

He pauses for effect, but he knows they’ll wait for him.

“Where would I go?”

“That’s what she said. ‘Where would I go?’ A black widow, with no place to go, I can’t imagine anyone more dangerous. We talk of people who can do good, of people that want to make the world better, but sometimes we might just need people that see the world a little differently; not just our americanised view. Natasha, left out in the cold, would find her own way, I have no doubt, but harnessing her goodness? Her own power and insight? I can’t imagine anything else more worth it.”

Fury stares at him for a moment, nodding and then in an untidy scrawl writes something that Clint can’t quite see.

“So your initial assessment was correct?” he clarifies.

“Yessir.”

Clint suppresses the urge to take a breath, instead, he bows his head and looks at his hands.

“There’s not much I’m sure about, but I am sure of her.”

He looks up to find the two men in front of him looking at him carefully.

Fury nods again.

“Okay. You may go.”

The words are slow, and Clint feels sure he wants to say something more.

“Oh Barton, if she were to stay, she’d be your partner. Does that change your mind?”

Clint smiles at the door but when he turns around his face is impassive.

“Not at all,” he replies, his voice unwavering.

.

Maria passes Clint, her name called next and takes one last look at Natasha.

The scar on her forehead still healing and Maria wonders if she did the right thing.

“Sir,” she greets Fury.

The other man, introduces himself, the advisor from the world security council looks intelligent.

She’s been wrong before though.

She offers him the same courtesy but turns her attention back to Fury.

“Tell us your current assessment of Shield,” Rupert starts.

It’s not the question she’d been expecting.

“It’s messy,” she starts, thinking on her feet.

Maria thinks quickly of the hierarchies she knows, what to liken it to and how just to explain that they have a long way to go before anyone in shield is completely trustworthy.

“There are currently 628 members of Shield. I think we all know how many were just weeded out and deposed. Each of those members know something of what happened and the rumor mill is wild with stories. I think there needs to be a better system and rankings. It seems ridiculous that we use military rankings and status of missions to determine who is trustworthy. Trust is earned. Both inside and outside of the home. You have a woman working in the library who can speak languages like breathing, new graduates that feel more trustworthy than some who have been here for years but use their power for clout over earning it, and you have an opportunity.”

She looks at Fury.

“Sir.”

Fury gives her a small smile, a sign that she hadn’t gone too far with her assessment.

“So what would you do?” Rupert asks, his voice casual.

“Change it,” Maria says seriously.

“Why not have a ranking system? Levels that give more information and something to work to. Then, clearance is easier. You know who, is in each level, what that rank entails, who can access what. It sounds simplistic but I can tell you how to implement it…”

Maria stops there, embarrassed at her enthusiasm, and the project she’d been working on for the last three weeks.

“I have a presentation.”

It’s the last things she says, the man, Rupert looks at her almost approvingly.

She hazards a look at Fury, expecting anger.

Instead, he cocks his head and stares her down.

She doesn’t quite understand what he’s thinking.

“You have a presentation,” he states, a note of mirth on his voice.

“Yessir.”

Fury leans forward.

“Fine. We can talk about that later. I think you and I need to have more of a conversation about your position too.”

“Sir?”

Maria must look worried as almost immediately Fury waves her off.

“Nothing to be worried about.”

Maria doesn’t feel sure.

“Tell me about your assessment of Natasha.”

Even though Maria knew it was coming, she still feels like she’s not ready to assess her.

“Are you sure you want my opinion?”

She’s stalling she knows.

“Yes,” Fury and Rupert reply in unison.

“She’s unpredictable, wild, traumatised and dangerous,” Maria starts.

She pauses.

“But, she’s an asset. She’s intelligent, resilient, somewhat naïve to American customs but has so much potential. She’s her own person and I think that can only be a good thing. We don’t need yes people, we want people who will assess us as much as we assess them. This is to say nothing on the intelligence she has provided us, the intelligence she has likely held back. Barton has done a good job at supporting her, making this as painless as possible for all involved. I..”

Maria hesitates.

She thinks of Natasha’s shaking hands, and worried eyes in the hospital. The human beyond the black widow. The woman that, despite all she had seen; all she had done, was still kind, still worth saving.

“Barton made the right decision in saving her.”

Fury stares at her.

Rupert looks at her closely.

She doesn’t waver.

“That’s your assessment?”

Maria nods.

“Yessir.”

“Okay.”

Fury shuffles papers.

“You’re dismissed. Ask Coulson to come in. Oh, and Maria?”

She looks up.

“We will meet tomorrow at 8am.”

He smiles, and Maria returns it.

“Yessir.”

.

Natasha watches Maria exit and Coulson enter the room.

She doesn’t say anything but offers a smile and Clint a nod before leaving.

“It’ll be okay,” Clint whispers.

She’d been in there half an hour, but Coulson, it seems like he’s only in there for half the time.

When he exits, he sits down next to Natasha.

“You’re going to be okay,” he assures, almost echoing Clint’s words.

To Natasha it feels like a soothing balm; from both of them.

The anxiety that she feels still simmering but someone else to fight for her, to take the time to reassure her? Natasha feels a strength that differs to anything she’s felt before.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Clint reaches over and squeezes her hand.

It’s short but she feels emotional, she’s never had men helping her, and here she was, sitting between two of them who have been the biggest supporters she’d ever known.

“When you’re ready,” Coulson tells her, “it’s your turn.”

.

Natasha sits in front of Fury, the other man seemingly inconsequential in the therapy room.

The green couches where Olivia had asked her what she wanted, all those months ago, still the same; but Natasha feels like everything had changed.

“I’ll get right to it,” Fury opens.

“The others have spoken highly of you, of your faults but also of your strengths. I want to hear from you. You are the one the gets to speak now, give your assessment of us, of shield and your experience here.”

He leaves the question open.

The statement throws Natasha. It’s not a direct question and she’s not sure what she should say.

People in power don’t want the truth.

“Its different,” she says truthfully.

“It’s not been easy being here and being ostracized about who I am and where I’ve come from; to be labeled a traitor and… I suppose I agree that who I am is not for everyone, I come from a place that I can be anyone, and often it’s chosen for me. It stands to reason that when I choose it, it won’t always be right.”

Natasha sighs.

“I haven’t done everything right. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for what harm I’ve done but I can say that I want to do better.”

She thinks it’s what he wants to hear, and she feels it’s true for her at least.

She watches as Fury narrows his eyes.

“Why here? Why America? You had your pick of secret services or agencies. You could work for getting in the world. Why?”

Natasha thinks of Olivia, of Clint and the way he found her, drugged and tortured.

She remembers wondering what else he was going to do to her, and when he met her with kindness, instead of pain, she felt it.

It burrowed inside and settled.

“There was no choice. I chose shield because you were best placed to protect me. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Fury smirks, his one eye glinting.

“And you just… want to do better.”

Natasha suppresses the urge to shift in the chair, to touch her fingers together or clench her fists.

Interrogation training had definitely beat that out of her.

“Yes.”

She feels her face grow hot under the scrutiny and even to her ears it sounds ridiculous.

Her heart rate quickens, and she can feel the tell tale signs of a panic attack.

Slow it down, she tells herself.

Like Olivia had coached her she searched for the emotion that was giving her disquiet.

Shame, embarrassment, anger. Something else she wasn’t sure of.

Making herself take an audible breath, she looks up at both the men.

“Yes. I want to do better, I don’t want to be someone pawn. My life, is my own. Barton once told me that it didn’t have to be like this, and he’s right, I don’t have to be ashamed of who I am, and what they made me. I can use it, I can be better than that; be better than them. You’re right when you say that I could have gone anywhere, done anything yet still came here and tolerated endless debriefs and torments, and you know what? At times I wished I hadn’t, but I stayed with it because you promised more, and I think that it’s what kept me going.”

She pauses.

“I am my choices and I chose this. For better or worse.”

Rupert looks up. Fury looks down.

“How do we know you won’t defect back?” The older man asks.

Natasha was prepared for that question at least.

“Trust goes both ways, doesn’t it?”

The man nods slowly.

It seems he wants to ask more, but they all sit in the silence as Fury writes one more thing.

He stands.

Natasha copies his movement, taking one more look around the room.

The first time she was in here, she had a panic attack that made her feel like she was dying.

Today, she’d been able to push it back and defend herself.

Growth, she thinks, as she exits without a word.

.

“What do you think?” Fury asks, not daring to hope.

“Well. I think she passes.”

“Yes,” he agrees.

“Probationary. With Barton.”

Rupert bristles.

“Why not Hill? Wouldn’t she be better?”

Fury shakes his head.

“No. I need Hill for something else.”

“Fine. Barton. But Phil has to be their handler. And you both have to report back to the council. She could be a loose cannon and I want oversight.”

Fury rolls his eye.

“Fine.”

He stands and walks to the door.

“It’s like you think we all aren’t working towards the same goal.”

Rupert gathers his jacket and briefcase.

“We all need oversight, Nick. Edith’s done a lamb, come for dinner and we can talk a bit more. I’ll send you my report before I send to congress. Maybe put Barton out of his misery, her too. I still think probationary for the next 3 months, with Belova awol it’ll probably give you enough time to figure out where she’s gone and persuade her to come back.”

Fury opens the door, allowing the other man to walk through it, first.

He adopts a neutral expression, and bids him a formal farewell, watching Natasha, Clint and Coulson stand and look towards them.

Rupert waves goodbye.

“Fine,” he mutters; looking at the apprehension that none of them can conceal, “come in.”

.

Epilogue

Natasha lays back on the shield issue bed, contemplating the day.

She was a shield agent.

On probation, sure, but still she had a badge that said so.

Every handler in the red room would roll in their grave.

She smiles, the ones she had killed anyway.

The other ones? She would just have to make time kill them as well so they had the opportunity.

Yawning, she contemplates the last year. How much her life had changed, how far she’d come without dying.

Dreykov would hate her.

He’d want her dead.

There was still so much work to do; to dismantle what was left of the red room.

If there were any girls left that could come in, or be rehabilitated… if they wanted to be.

Olivia.

Yelena.

She was sure the latter was dead, there was no was she could have survived the brutality of the red room.

But still.

There was a molecule of hope that burned inside Natasha, for all of the things she could do and could be.

The red in her ledger.

The things she had yet to experience and still wanted to to was another - as selfish as she thought it to be.

She takes the badge out again.

Touches the silver imprint, the leather around it.

Clint had looks pleased, so had Maria.

And Coulson, just looked like himself - maybe tellin that he was pleased with all that had eventuated.

She hadn’t quite understood his tells but if he were to be her handler, she’d have to learn that.

Natasha closes her eyes, feel the feelings, just like Olivia had said.

She thinks it’s pride.

[crazy-dane-art]

Some drinks to finish the night

[areyouokaypanda]

Whumptober Day 31: Making Amends This makes ten consecutive years of completed October challenges (had to check the math on that twice because mind=blown) and three years focusing specifically on this group of characters. Maybe one day I'll figure out what's happening here, but for now... I'm very tired. XD Happy Halloween!

[rose-of-pollux]

Title: The Impossible and the Improbable Fandom: Back to the Future Rating: T Summary: [Hybrid musical/movie timeline, post-canon] A temporal anomaly in Sleepy Hollow leads to an unexpected and terrifying situation, and also differing points of view for a logic-driven scientist and an aspiring rock star raised on Irish legends.

Inspired by @martymcflyboy's fanart here!

For @whumptober Day 31: Making amends

And, with that, Whumptober challenge complete!

[sourb0i]

Whumptober: Day 30 & 31

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Prompts: Recovery/Hospital Beds & Making Amends

Jon recovers. Martin recovers. Together they make amends.

[rookie-lou]

Forget-Me-Not, Whumptober day 31

Chapter 31: What do you remember?

Doc reads Smokey’s letters. He has a restless night after that.