#Carol's POV

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

I WOULDN’T DREAM OF IT.

Chapter 2 - Roll The Dice

Black!Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau

Ft. Monica Rambeau

CW: slight mentions of- homophobic slurs(not written out), deciding not to report harassment in the military, one mention of a security/police officer, being drunk/partying, minor cuts/scrapes/bruises, parenting, loss of a parent, childhood trauma, regaining lost memories. also, a big part of this chapter is set in a flashback. nothing too crazy for any of this, but I just want everyone to know that these things are mentioned!

A/N: hey y'all! so, I wrote this like a book. it's long per usual, and this one's a bit angsty but nothing too serious. also sooooo sorry this is so late lmao, life comes at you hard and fast sometimes but we getting it together every day! I'll try to be quicker w/ updates🫡. much love, muahhh. thank you for reading! x ps. this isn't proof read bc I stayed up til 6:30 in the morning to finish writing it LMFAOO.💀 I'll come back at some point and proof read it, but sorry for any typos/grammar/syntax oddities as always.

Word Count: 19,078 (jump scare🫣)

Link to AO3!

title header & mood art by me⋆˙⟡♡ pls don't use/post elsewhere without asking! (lmk if y'all like it though! i'm thinking about doing stuff like this for all/most of my fics maybe)

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@mybonafidefeelings @maysflourish @nanajen8

also go read @mybonafidefeelings's new danbeau/carolxmaria series RIGHT NEOWWWW if you haven't already🥰

and while you're at it, go check out all the fics everyone in the taglist have written! they never disappoint!

here we gooooo, I hope you enjoy part two.💗

Once Monica finished her breakfast, she helped Carol clean up while she told her stories about her friends at school, all the inventions she'd come up with, and any other story her mind mustered up. She wanted to fill in as many blanks as possible for her other mother. Carol listened intently, taking in every moment of her daughter. She wanted to remember everything, even the things that might not seem important to other parents in different circumstances. She wanted to be able to reference these stories, prove that she remembered, that she cared enough to listen. Partly because her own parents never showed an interest, instead always finding the time to show their genuine dislike for her for whatever many reasons they had, or just disregarding her altogether. But also because Monica had always been so welcoming, so ready to receive her back like nothing had happened - or maybe like everything did happen and she still chose to hold on tight to her mother, choosing not to let the time separate them. So Carol held on tight too, wanting to prove she was reliable to the girl. She appreciated how open Monica was to her returning, but she also knew she had been gone for a long time. Longer than she should have been, she often thought. She knew that Monica was young, and might eventually change her mindset on the matter. She had every right to. It would make sense to feel some kind of way, and that scared Carol to her core. So she wanted to at least try and show up in the best way she could. Be present, be a mother - not just someone who literally drops in every now and then. She wanted to give the girl something she could hold onto, something she could trust.

Carol was always so in awe of both of the Rambeaus. Even though Maria always said that she and Monica were so much alike, she loved how much she was just like her mother too. Stubborn, but sure of herself. Interested in everything, always ready to learn and push forward - but soft, in her own way. Gentle, patient and kind. They both would go out of their way, even if it didn’t always seem like they were. She looked like her, too. Her brown eyes, her hair, the way she walked. She was just like Maria in the best ways (not that there was a bad way to be like Maria Rambeau), and also very much just herself. Just Monica, and she was the most amazing child the world had ever managed to produce. Carol was sure of it. 

When they had finished in the kitchen, Carol decided to take a shower too. The hot water should be filled up again, and she was starting to feel the leftover sweat from last night mixing with the approaching heat from the day. Monica sat on the couch and turned on some cartoons, feeling fulfilled from breakfast which made Carol feel proud of herself for a lot of reasons. Cooking was something she always struggled with because she never had anybody to teach her. Maria thinks she might just naturally be a clutz in the kitchen too, but regardless, she worked with her for years as they grew up trying to teach her how to cook, giving her the gentle instruction and patience she never had. Usually to no avail, but it was a fond memory for both of them. Carol smiled, thinking that if her success in making pancakes this morning was any indication of the kind of day she would have with her daughter, she was sure it would be a good one. She wandered back upstairs, running her hands along the walls that still had blue and purple marker stains on them in some spots. As she walked through the hallway towards her shared room, she passed Monica’s room and couldn't help but smile. The girl’s room was what anybody would expect if they’d met her. A little messy, super colorful. She had her personality everywhere. A model of the solar system she had made when she was a little younger for a school project hung from the ceiling over her bed. A stuffed animal Carol had won for her at a carnival when she was a toddler, Maria had one to match that she secretly kept hidden in the drawer next to her bed still. She had drawings on blue construction paper all over her walls, mostly of her inventions (she called them her blueprints). The one picture that was on regular white paper had the word “Family” written on it. A crayon picture of Maria and Carol, with Monica in the middle. Carol’s heart skipped a beat seeing it. She was so lucky, she thought again. She passed the door and made her way to the end of the hall with a happy stride. The day had just begun and she was already doing better than she expected. 

She stepped into the room and paused, her smile growing inward in an almost shy way. She was greeted with the scent and feel of Maria. She inhaled deeply, feeling a level of comfort roll through her body and pang in her chest. Mmm. Carol whispered to herself, almost embarrassed. But she couldn’t help it. She was everywhere. As much as they had kept Carol present in their lives, making sure she was alive and never erased from her fingerprint on the home, it had still been years since Carol had been gone so it made perfect, almost comforting sense to her that they had made it their own. They had to make it comfortable, they had to fill in the empty space. Just like Monica’s room, Maria’s was a perfect snapshot of her personality. It was well kept, everything had a place to be. If it ever did get messy, Carol was sure it didn’t last long. She looked over the room, noting the books next to the bed where Maria slept, all of them half read with bookmarks Monica had made her in them. She looked at the tray of jewelry sitting on the dresser, full of small dainty necklaces and a few pairs of stud earrings with different shapes, and a few pairs of hoops Maria would only wear if she was going out. She looked at the closet, one side open from this morning. All the clothes are organized by color, with a few boxes sitting on the top shelf. Even the bed they had slept in, it was already made perfectly to military standards with the edges tucked in perfectly - except for the top where Maria had extra pillows, all with light purple pillow cases contrasting the perfect white ones underneath.

She looked at the picture frames sitting on Maria’s perfectly organized desk as she walked over to it. On the left side was a picture of her and Monica at a park that had to be fairly recent, a picture of Maria standing outside the SWORD office smiling huge next to an older man in uniform, and a picture of Maria with her brother which must’ve been years old because Maria looked like she was in middle school maybe, making Carol reminisce about the girl she used to know. On the right side of the desk sat two pictures that didn’t face in all the way like the other two, as if they were put there intentionally but also intentionally not looked at as much. One, in a light purple frame, was Maria’s mother. Carol had never met the woman but had seen her face many times growing up in Maria’s father’s house. It was the same then, almost like the woman must have put the pictures of herself up and they didn’t have the heart to take them down, but they tried their best not to look. Next to that sat a framed picture of Carol and Maria smiling at the local bar they used to go to, their uniforms half undone and Carol’s hair out of regs with her aviators pushed back and a red bandana around her head. She remembers the bar more now, Pancho’s. She had been there with Fury and it jogged a lot of things for her, but she so badly wants to remember that day specifically. She runs her fingers close to it, but doesn’t dare to touch. She tries to remember the song they would sing together, all the lyrics. She can’t but she remembers how it felt to jump around for hours and then walk home, too drunk most times, bumping into each other and letting touches and looks linger a little too long, and then having to get up early the next day. She remembers that they would take turns walking each other to their barracks, sometimes daring to sleep in each other's rooms when they thought they might not get caught, always leaving one of them to sneak out in the morning. Carol laughs, thinking about how Maria was right last night, and how she was always better at leaving quietly than Carol.

When her eyes refocus on the photo, she can’t help but wonder how many times Maria had flipped the frame over, hiding the memory from herself. She wonders, just for a moment, if she would’ve been able to live through the grief she put her through. She would never know just how bad it was for Maria, she would never be able to see from her eyes what the woman went through or how she pulled herself out of bed every day and raised a child by herself, kept working, started SWORD. She wondered if Maria ever went back to that bar, or if she ever listened to the song again. She would never know how the woman truly felt in those years or what she did to keep herself busy, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel right asking. She wanted to think about the past few months, after everything. She wanted to think about how it must be even worse, in a way, knowing that Carol was out there saving other people while Monica grew up and Maria trudged on with no choice. She wanted to think about it but couldn’t, knowing what would happen if she let her mind attach to the thoughts and feelings. She gazed at the photo again and turned away, deciding that maybe she didn’t need to remember everything right now. 

She walked over to the box they had pulled out last night for her and started going through some clothes, looking for something to change into. She realized that while she was in space, her suit did all the work for her - she never had to worry about pulling an outfit together. It did the heating, drying, cooling, protecting her from any number of threats - all while containing her powers in a comfortable way for her. So as she sorted through her belongings, she was now also coming to the realization that it also had built in underwear. She only had two pairs of regular underwear to her name and she was wearing one of them. She frantically sifted through the big box to no avail. She questioned why she would only have two pairs of underwear, rather than all of her undergarments or none of them at all. She guessed that the Air Force had something to do with it, remembering that they had packed everything up for Maria to come pick up instead of letting her do it. She cursed them under her breath, mad that once again Maria had something taken from her, deciding that she had no option but to wear the pair of boxer briefs she had found and figure it out later. She grabbed the boxers, an old band tee shirt and a pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom. 

When she walks in the bathroom, she can hear Monica’s cartoons from the living room. 

“I’m gonna bathe myself, Lt. Trouble! Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

 She yells down. She waited to hear Monica’s response and when she didn’t she paused completely, silencing herself and the air around her, cartoons still playing. She could feel her heartbeat pick up its pace.

“Mon? Did you hear me?” 

She shouts again, a bit louder, trying not to let on to her anxiety.

“Okay Mom!”

 Monica yells back, mind focused on her shows. Carol exhaled deeply, relief flowing through her body. She chuckled at mom, gratitude buzzing through her whole body. She was still a mom to Monica and that meant more to her than she could ever explain. She added “go to therapy” on her mental to do list and started stripping.

Once all the layers were off, she chucked her socks in the pile she had made and stepped into the deep tub, pulling a purple shower cap over her hair and bending down to turn on the shower. She pulled the stop up before balancing out the water and heard the water make its way up the long pipe to the shower head slowly as she pulled the curtain closed around her. She immediately screeched, feeling freezing water run over her body. She had forgotten that Maria took cold showers in the morning to wake her up. She scrambled, trying to avoid as much of the frigid water as possible while she flipped up the hot water handle with her toes, jumping up and down, somehow not slipping. As the water began to warm and steam up, she found herself laughing. Out loud. She couldn’t stop. Captain Marvel was giggling like a child (Once again proving Maria right). She slid down and sat on her butt, pulling her knees into her chest and let the water run over her back. She eased into the warm feeling, still feeling laughter bubble up inside of her. She closed her eyes and remembered the last time she felt the shock of cold water all over her.

It was late, or maybe early. Carol felt herself getting tired, but she wanted to keep dancing. She wanted to keep singing. She wanted to keep seeing Maria, feeling her brush up against her while they danced and twirled in sloppy, drunken harmony, singing poorly to whatever song was playing. She didn’t want to go to work tomorrow just to test planes she would never get to fly outside of base. She didn’t want to sleep in her own bed, unless Maria was in it. She just wanted to keep living in this moment for as long as she could. She looked over at her equally drunk copart, dancing freely with her eyes closed. Maria rarely let loose like this, but when she did it was beautiful. She commanded the room, everyone tuning into her wavelength, feeling her all around them. She made everything beautiful, and when she was carefree, it was like no one on earth had a care in the world either. 

Maria opened her eyes to see Carol looking at her and she smiled that toothy grin she had, making the heat from Carol’s chest rise to her face. She smiled back, pushing herself closer to the woman through the people dancing around them. The dark liquor they had both been drinking was coursing through them and burning off with every move, sending sparks through both of their bodies while they watched each other bop to the music. Carol made her way over and laughed, making some comment about how only they could make old white men’s music sound this good. Maria giggled in agreeance, grabbing Carol’s hand and twirling her around. She was tired too, but she was happy to have a break. They had both been working their asses off and both felt the same frustration with the position they were seemingly stuck in. They were making their way up in rank, one then the other, every time. But two facts always remained. They were both Black Women. So the Air Force didn’t give them much reign, despite the fact that they were statistically and literally the two best pilots the Air Force had ever seen and a lot of people knew it. Despite all their talent and gusto, they did their diligence day in and day out. So, when they got the chance to be free from the monotony, they took it, hand in hand, happily. 

As Carol spun back into the woman’s arms with a heaving laugh, they both smiled at each other widely. Maria couldn’t look away, she felt stuck as her eyes moved down from her friend’s eyes to her lips. Carol surprised her by grabbing her other arm and spinning her just how she had done, and pulling her in with a dramatic dip. Everyone around them cheered, drunk too. They laughed with their bellies, feeling the song in their chests. Carol pulled Maria up slow, just as the exciting song ended. The next song started and it was slower, and most people around them coupled up, only some seeming annoyed as they made their way off the dance floor and back to the bar and stools. The two women looked around them, then at each other. They both shrugged with a small laugh, and Carol pulled Maria in to dance. She made some joke about being proper while she found her hands at Maria’s lower back, making the woman laugh as she made herself comfortable around Carol’s neck and shoulders. They laid their chins on eachother and swayed, letting the joke of it all dissipate into the air. It was moments like this that they relished in, secretly. Every now and then, they’d allow themselves a second to breathe each other in. Usually when they were drunk and their inhibitions were low. For both of them, it felt like everything melted away. Just like when they were younger and neither had been asked to the school dance, so they took each other. They shared one slow dance that night, making the excuse that it was tradition and neither should miss out on their first slow dance. They had wanted to dance together at prom, but they had both regrettably had dates for once. Maria had been asked by a boy from her science class, he played on the basketball team and told her she was pretty AND smart (wow, how romantic, Carol thought when she heard the story).

Carol hadn’t been asked but when she found out Maria said yes after being pressured by her father and not hearing Carol make a strong argument against it, Carol forced some kid from one of her classes to come with her. All four had danced that night, split into the ‘correct’ gendered pairs. Carol couldn’t keep her eyes off her bestfriend, and the feeling was mutual. During the final slow dance, they were all on the floor swaying in and out of rhythm with the song playing. Carol and Maria locked eyes and didn’t unlock them until the song was over. They had danced again during their first military ball, quietly in the back behind a pillar where no one could see them. It was unspoken but well understood. They didn’t talk about it after, they just went about their business. They always did. And they would again after tonight, carrying on like time didn’t stop when they touched like this. As the music played, Carol’s hand rubbed Maria’s back absent mindedly, while Maria rubbed small circles against Carol’s neck as they swayed, both in and out of daydreaming, both drunk and leaning a little too heavily on eachother. They both fought the urge to look up at each other, so they let their heavy heads rest on each other as they danced, feet in perfect timing with eachothers. This is what friends do, right? They were so comfortable with each other, it wasn’t weird to slow dance. Right? They almost stopped moving entirely, leaving just a small rocking between them as the music played through them, syncing their breaths. You feel so good, they both thought at the same time, almost forgetting that their freedom in this moment was due to the cognac surging through them.

When time started again and the song stopped, an upbeat one replacing it, they both lingered for a moment longer trying to hold onto the comfort they felt, and trying to collect their drunk selves. Over the sound of the music, the bartender announced last call and they looked at each other with a mischievous smirk. 

“Last one to the bar pays for the shots!” They said in unison, falling gracefully back into their routine. They ran over, both making it there at the same time, so as always they paid for each other’s shots and continued jamming to the music and letting the ambiance of the bar carry them through the rest of the night. Everyone knew everyone, so they felt safe, which was nice. As they finished their last two shots each, they both felt the drunkenness take its strong hold on them and they decided this would be their last song. They grabbed the karaoke mics that no one else wanted and belted at the top of their lungs, horribly but everyone loved it. They jumped up and down, bursting at the seams with laughter and lyrics, dancing with whoever danced with them. Once the song ended, they grabbed each other’s hands and ran for the coat rack, bounding forward despite their lack of balance. 

Pulling on their jackets, they stepped outside into the cooler air and took it in. Carol checked her watch and was astonished to see the time, despite the fact they everyone knew last call at Pancho’s meant it was 2am and the bar would be closing at 2:30. She looked over at Maria who was staring up at the sky.

“What’re you look-”

“Shh! Make a wish! Right now before you miss it!” 

Maria rushed Carol, keeping her eyes closed and her hands clasped together like she was praying, maybe even begging. Carol smiled, knowing the shooting star that must’ve passed was already gone, but she chose to believe the energy would linger for Maria and her. She closed her eyes and spent no time trying to figure out what to wish for. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. They both did. Carol kept her eyes closed after she was done, letting her body relax and fully feeling the disorientation of her drunkenness. She felt woozy, almost nauseous. Maria stared at her while her eyes were shut, allowing her body to relax at the sight. She felt her body move for her, without permission. She grabbed Carol’s hand, shocking the woman’s eyes open and started running without any explanation. 

“What are you doing Rambeau? Where are we going?” 

Carol asked, confused, dizzy and feeling a familiar spike of excitement rise in her. Maria was even more daring and much less prudent when she was intoxicated. She was taking her on an adventure and she was ready to go. She would follow the woman anywhere, drunk or not.

“You’ll see. Don’t you trust me, Danvers?” 

Maria called behind her, laughing and out of breath the whole time but never stopping. Carol didn’t need to answer, they both knew the answer. They kept up laughing, thankful for all the PT they’d been forced to do by the United States military. They ran down quiet streets for a few minutes, until they made it to a dirt path with a bunch of trees, leading them off the main road. Maria looked back at Carol with an excited and sly smile. Carol pulled her hand back and made her face her. 

“You’re not trying to serial killer me, right? Where are you taking me?” 

She laughed, but meant the question.

“C’monnn.” Maria tugged, wanting to live in the moment while she could. 

“Don’t you trust me?” 

She asked again, looking in Carol’s eyes with a glint, but soft. Penetrating, Carol thought to herself. She knew she couldn’t say no, she never could. So, she smiled and signaled for Maria to keep taking her wherever she was.

“Lead the way.”

This made Maria smile excitedly, adding an extra skip in her step. They weren’t running this time but they were walking fast, Maria jumping around Carol who felt like she was in a movie or a trance, eyes never leaving Maria’s dancing body as they made their way down the dark path, leaving her feet to trust whatever path Maria made for her. Maria saw a clearing in the trees ahead of them and she started running again, creating too much space for Carol’s comfort. She snapped out of her trance and ran after the faster woman, feeling anxiety and frustration rise in her for a moment. 

“What the hell, Rambeau? It’s dark out here! You can’t just run o-” Carol started while she wiped the sweat and dust off her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maria standing at the edge of a lake surrounded by thick brown sand and trees. Maria waved her over and the frustration fled Carol’s body faster than it arrived. She jogged up to Maria who was already undressing, making Carol choke when she saw glimpses of Maria’s dark skin that she didn’t usually see. I mean, sure, they’d seen eachother in bathing suits and naked before, when they were kids, but it had been a while. A long while. Carol had to force her mouth shut before Maria could see it hanging open.

“Cmon, hurry up! We gotta jump in before my better judgement takes over!” 

Maria rushed as she pulled off her socks and yanked her pants the rest of the way down, pulling them over her ankles. Carol was still frozen watching her.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared Danvers? Cmon! It’ll help with the drunkenness and it’ll be a story to tell our kids!” 

Maria exclaimed, pulling her shirt over her head. All the was left was her bra and perfect light purple underwear. Carol snapped out of it and laughed.

“HA! What the hell are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re about to-”

“Skinny dip? Yes the hell I am. And so are you. Hurry up!”

Maria finished her sentence as she grabbed her hand, pulling her over and pulling the bandana off her head and tossing it with her own clothes she had made a pile of. She started pulling at Carols shirt sleeves until Carol brushed her away, laughing but really just unable to let Maria help undress her. She was suddenly feeling very shy but as always, Maria was going to get what she wanted from Carol because that’s what Carol wanted. Maria looked at her with that So, are you gonna do it or not? look that Carol was usually giving her and waited for Carol’s face to break into a smile she couldn’t help.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this with you. Don’t cry to me when you regret it tomorrow and have to blow your hair out in the morning!” 

Carol said as she pulled her shirt over her head and exposed her own body, one that Maria wasn’t sure how to fully take in either as she fought back a smile at Carol’s comment. She thought about the last time she’d seen Carol completely naked, or at least as naked as she almost was standing there. They used to get dressed in front of each other all the time and they’d been in matching bathing suits a bunch of times growing up but it had been a while, since they weren’t rooming together in the barracks. She forced her stare away while Carol undid her pants and slid out of them, leaving only her boy shorts, a bra and socks. She kicked her socks off to match as Maria finished pulling the rest of her underwear off, and by the time they both turned around, they were stark naked in the middle of nowhere, right in front of each other.

The silence sat for a moment before they both laughed, the tension easing away like it always did. Maria grabbed Carol’s hand and ran for the water, looking back only to ask You ready? as her feet made their way into the moist sand, inching towards the cold water. Carol shot back As I’ll ever be before making her way in too. They both plunged forward, swimming out a bit but not too far. They both shot under the water and looked at eachother, grabbing hands again before popping back up. The water rolled off of them as they broke through the surface, blinking it from their eyes and feeling their hair. They laughed loudly, finding their bearings in the freezing water.

“Holy shit!” Carol swore, bobbing a bit as she figured out how to float again. Still laughing.

“More like Holy FUUUCK!” Maria shouted out with a laugh in her voice, lifting it into the trees around them. She couldn’t stop laughing, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Carol looked at her as she held her free hand that she was using to balance herself with as she floated out to Maria who happily took it in hopes it would help stabilize her as well.

“You’re a god damn maverick, Rambeau!” Carol laughed as she spun Maria around, swimming in circles trying to keep her blood pumping to warm them both up. Maria swam gracefully, still holding onto Carol’s hand. She was laughing but she was also quieter now. Carol questioned if it was the cold or if it was whatever made her jump into a freezing lake anyway. She pulled her back in and held her hand tight as she pulled her onto her back, pressing her front to her back and taking deep breaths trying to stay warm while still enjoying the fluidity of movement the water provided. They both felt like they were flying, finally.

“What’s going on in your head?” Carol asked as she swam in different directions for a little bit, back and forth as Maria clung to her back, clearly the drunker of the two now. The shock of the water had helped to sober them both up but Carol always had a higher tolerance to alcohol as it was. She was still drunk but not as drunk as her bestfriend, whos head was resting on top of Carol’s wet curls. She knew the humidity and however she planned to get sleep that night wouldn’t help with her process in the morning.

“I just want to fly. I just wanna feel free, you know?” Maria started, not exactly slurring her words but they weren’t as uniform with her natural cadence as they usually were. Carol nodded slightly with a Mhm to assure Maria that she was listening.

“I just… I just wish we could do whatever we wanted to do. I’m so tired of living by the same rules every day. I wish I could just fly into space and stay there, sometimes, you know?” Carol smiled at the thought of Maria being able to fly how she was meant to. High up, above the clouds. Away from everyone and everything that constantly tried to tie her feet to the ground. She did know, she felt the same way about herself.

“You’d leave me here on earth to deal with these bastards?” Carol asked, joking but also not. Maria half laughed, half hiccuped at the thought.

“Wherever I am, you are too. That’s how it’s always going to be, Danver’s. I fly, you fly. You fly, I fly. That’s never gonna change.” Maria said, meaning it. She was always more emotionally open when she was drunk and Carol almost felt bad listening to her, knowing she wouldn’t normally open up like this - especially naked, freezing, clinging to her best friends back with all her might and drunk in a lake they had no business being in. But she couldn’t help but revel in what the woman was saying. She felt the same.

“I know. I know. Come on, lets go home.” Maria wanted to put up a fight but she was shivering and suddenly very sleepy, so she let Carol swim them to shore. When they got out the water, the warm air offered some support in their drunken attempts to pull on their clothing over wet and suddenly sand covered bodies. They weren’t sure if they were putting on the right things but they knew it was covering their important parts and that’s what matters. 

“Can we stay at look at the stars for a little bit?” Maria asked, even though she was the one in charge, whether she knew it or not. Carol knew it. She nodded, knowing it wasn’t a good idea but one she couldn’t deny the soft woman in front of her. She spread their jackets out on the beach for them to lay down and they both did just that, scotting their bodies close to each other instinctively. They peered up at the stars above them, seeing them clearly in the huge circle the trees made. It was perfect, they both thought. Some moments went by before Carol asked a question.

“What did you wish for earlier?”

“Shh. I can’t tell or it won't come true. It was something I’ve always wanted, so it has to come true.” She explained, sleep and bourbon clouding her voice.

“Mine too.” Carol whispered, her own eyes growing heavy. They held hands and both thought that the other woman must’ve wished for them to finally be able to do their jobs the right way, to be able to fly for real. Little did they both know they were wishing for the same thing. Each other.

They laid there, staring at the stars until they weren’t. Sleep came easy for them that night, as odd as it was. It got odder when they woke up, facing each other with only a nose length between their faces, feeling the warm sting of the sun in their eyes. They looked at eachother and started laughing until they heard the familiar sound of security keys dangling and a radio in the nearing distance. They knew it had to be the wannabe cops that patrolled the area and they knew it was their time to get the hell out of there. They ran back down the same path and back onto the main road until they made it to Pancho’s. They slowed to a casual pace after that, trying not to draw attention to themselves even though they had sand all over and their hair was nowhere near what it looked like the previous night. They walked, quietly, but happily together back to the barracks and passed out in Maria’s room. She wanted the comfort of her own space to ease through her impending hangover, but she needed the comfort of Carol’s arms too. Carol put up no fight, trying not to be too obvious that she wanted to be there too. Though she’d never tell, Maria positioned herself perfectly to be held and went right to sleep.

Carol stayed up until she fell asleep like she always did, making sure she was on her side in case she threw up or needed water. She watched as Maria slept, looking like she was floating again. She was so beautiful and Carol was so tired. She laid down and held the woman, her arms perfectly fitting into the space that was left, like it was made for her. They slept most of the day away and when Carol woke up, she set medicine next to Maria’s bed and snuck out, quieter than normal. She thought about what Maria had said when she was in the water as she walked back to her room to take care of her own hangover and messed up fro’. She promised herself that day that no matter where she flew, she would make sure Maria would be there too. Behind that promise, she knew that she would follow Maria to the end of the earth, even the end of the universe without a second thought. She tried to shake some self respect back into her own dreams, smiling despite herself and went to sleep. She dreamed of Maria, because Maria was her dream.

Carol’s day dreaming was interrupted by a cold surge through the shower head again, and the sound of the downstairs sink running before being cut off. Her super hearing alerted her to the sound of Monica filling a cup and going to sit back down. She buzzed under the cold water before it eased back into the warmth she had set for herself. She felt more fond of the cold now. She stood back up and washed her body, letting the water run over her face. The soap smelled like both Monica and Maria and she felt comfort knowing she would smell like them now, too. She finished up and got out, drying herself with her powers instead of making more laundry for herself with the towels she had been looking at the night before. She grabbed her clothes and located her underwear and bra from the pile. 

When she grabbed the pair of boxers, she looked at the inside hem and saw “DANVERS” written in smudged black sharpie on the white tag. She laughed with an edge of old frustration, remembering how she had to do that because people kept stealing her underwear in the laundry room as a prank because her and Maria had ranked up before a few of the other men in their unit. Maria’s clothes never got stolen, but they didn’t refrain from trying to get to her in other ways. None of which she ever humored, but Carol knew it got to her a few times. Some of the guys had called them ‘lesbos’ a few times, and eventually it evolved into the d slur. Both pilots always had different comebacks that consistently left the immature weasels with little to say back. Carol knew both of those words well having heard them most of her life, and she had taught herself not to internalize it.

Maria, on the other hand, let the first one roll off her for the most part - but the second one sometimes picked at scabs she had long covered up. Scabs she wasn’t ready to look at yet. They both decided not to report the harassment because it would probably end up worse if they did, and eventually it died down. They both continued to rise in ranks slowly but surely, and finally Mar-Vell came and they felt some reprieve from the monotony they were used to. Carol shivered at the thought of what came after that, though. 

She slid the rest of her clothes on and walked back into the bedroom. She put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket next to the closet for her to do later, and walked back over to the box of her things. She’d seen a bunch of stuff Monica had shown her the first time she came home, but she wanted to know what was in the other boxes Maria had kept. She went through the bottom of the box that had her clothes in it not finding anything she hadn’t already seen, and then pulled open the other one they had left out. She presumed this is one Maria hadn’t shown Monica as it had light dust on it when she opened it.

She sifted through, halfway hoping to find another pair of underwear, but instead she found a bunch of papers and trinkets. Some necklaces and a silver chain bracelet, wristbands from carnivals and bars they had been to together, a pair of dice from a board game they had stolen from a store one time when they were younger and had kept as they grew up. She ran her hands over everything, trying to take in as much of her former self as she could like she always did when she had the chance. She fumbled at the bottom of the box and pulled out a bunch of papers, some folded, some grocery lists with toiletries and snacks crossed off here and there, some half done crossword puzzles that Carol was never good at, and a few opened envelopes. She sat the rest down and looked over each envelope with care. 

Some had cards in them, birthday and christmas cards, one from valentines day. All of them had silly characters or jokes on the front. They had made a good habit of buying each other cheesy cards for every holiday they could think of, Carol strained to remember as she read through them. She rubbed her finger over Maria’s perfect signature, wondering if she kept the ones Carol had gotten her, too. She filed through the papers curiously, flipping through piece after piece of paper that held a small snapshot of moments in her life. Mundane, ordinary moments. She cherished them, and she was grateful to both Maria for keeping them and herself for never being organized and keeping all this stuff that most people would’ve eventually thrown away or allowed themselves to misplace over time. Her eyes fixed on a thicker envelope. She grabbed it, reading the red script labeled across the front.

To: Danvers

From: Rambeau ♡ 

Carol smiled at the little heart Maria had drawn next to her last name. She opened the letter, finding another heart on the back of the envelope where it was once sealed. Carol reads over the letter, feeling emotion and memory rise up in her chest, spreading through her whole body. The letter is dated, of course because Maria is ever punctual. It was from when they had been stationed at two separate bases for the first few months. It was agony for both of them, being in two separate states. Carol had sent Maria a letter when she first arrived, thinking she would be the first one to write. She was shocked, however, to find a letter waiting for her when she arrived at the post office on base. She had opened it the second she got back to her barracks room. It was an envelope inside an envelope, the outer one having had their full names and ranks and official military postage, the second one having the cute little hearts Maria drew perfectly when she wrote. Again, she was softer than most people expected her to be.

The letter expressed pretty much exactly what Carol had in hers, which came to no surprise to either of them when they both read what the other had sent. They were always on the same wavelength. They both had so much more they needed to say, but they were so grateful to hold something physical that the other had taken time to write for the other.  Maria asked how Carol was doing, explained what had been going on with her, and complained about the men on base per usual. Just as if they were together in person. 

As Carol read through it, she laughed, probably how she had the first time, at a lot of the letter. Towards the end though, she felt a tight ball of heat sitting in her chest restricting her breathing. She almost couldn’t read through what was left of the letter. Was she embarrassed? 

“Anyways, I hope you’re still kicking ass. I KNOW you are, that always came easy to you. 

I hope we can call soon, hopefully without being interrupted by the other idiots needing to use the phone every single time you do. I can’t believe there's only four on your base and only two that actually work (what happened to ‘The Air Force’s finest?’). You’d think with all the money the military has.. You know. I know it’s hard for both of us to find the time right now but I just really miss you, Carol. I miss shitty karaoke a lot, I can’t do it with these clowns here without you. Friday nights just aren’t the same haha. I miss renting the same movies every weekend and staying up all night eating too much. I even watched Fame the other day without you. I still hate it but it was nice, I just wish you were here to act out all the scenes. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anybody, but I even miss your shitty cooking (burn this after reading), and not just because it makes it easier for me to be the better cook, but just because it’s you. I never used to hate writing letters but I do now, because it reminds me how far they have to travel to get to you. I hate that we’re not together, we’ve always been together. And as much as I act like I know what I’m doing, sometimes I feel lost without you here. And I know we’ve been pretending everything is the same but it isn’t, at least not for me. I wish we had more time to talk before you left. I wish we had more time in general. Damn the Air Force. Regardless, I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m so proud of you. I always am.

It’ll all be better soon. I believe that, just like you always do. We’ll be up in the air in no time. I’ll meet you up there. I’ll be the one whipping by you. Catch up if you can.

Take good care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it for you. 

You’re the best damn pilot in the Air Force (second only to me, of course), and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise! Call me when you get the chance. And hurry up and write back!

Always, 

Rambeau.

Ps. Things wont always be this way. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget that round of shots you owe me, either, goofball.”

Carol felt the heat of a blush running to her cheeks. She was thankful for her dark complexion hiding it, although no one was there to see her anyways. Why did she feel so giddy, and also… embarrassed? She felt like she was reading someone’s diary, even though the letter was clearly addressed to her and she had already read it. Years ago. She scanned over the text again, regarding Maria’s perfect handwriting. She felt like she was reading a love letter. Maybe it was, but she was too anxious to entertain the thought too much. She wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean, and she wasn’t sure if this year's old letter still even meant anything other than friendship.

Maria had been tight lipped about a lot of stuff, even though she pretended like she wasn’t. Her and Monica always answered Carol’s questions openly, happily for the most part unless it was about the ‘missing period’. They all tried to avoid that subject now, as time had gone by, but they all also knew that it would come up naturally sometimes and it couldn’t be left unanswered all the time. Aside from that, to the untrained eye, it seemed like Maria was willing to give up any bit of information that would help get them all back to how they used to be or at least help figure out what life looked like moving forward. But Carol knew better, she had a very well trained eye for Maria Rambeau, it was second nature for her - with or without the gaps in her memory. There had been a few moments,  just brief enough to almost miss, since Carol came back the first time with Fury and even more recently on some of her visits, when the unshakeable Maria had gotten flustered or nervous, where the heat currently in Carol’s cheeks had been in hers. When her heart threatened to beat so hard it would leap from her chest. Granted, she hid it well but again, Carol could always see through her. She seldom was at a loss for words or made quick, messy cover ups in conversation. Usually the people around them didn’t even notice. Monica didn’t even catch it, or at least didn’t acknowledge it. It happened once or twice when Carol and Maria were alone, too. Carol knew things like that only happened when Maria felt unsure, or when she really didn’t want to talk about something. Anyone who had ever met Maria knew she was as straightforward as they come, so that’s what made Carol pay extra attention when she was avoiding something. 

The thoughts of romance danced around Carol’s brain tauntingly, aching for her to pull them forward and examine them. But knowing how Maria was, and knowing that she only got that way when she was purposefully avoiding something, Carol settled on a quiet feeling of rejection instead - against her better judgment. She let it swell through her, enflaming the previous feelings of embarrassment right along with it. She put the letter away, resigning that she should just be thankful to have a friend who cares for her so much and that she wouldn’t allow herself to think anything else. She did this often, rejected herself before other people could to avoid the stinging feeling of embarrassment or disappointment her parents and the people she grew up with often supplied her with.

Maria never made her feel that way, and maybe that's why she would accept this quiet, self imposed feeling now instead of facing it in person with the other woman. She couldn’t risk ruining something she had just gotten back, anyways. Right? Right, she forced herself to agree in her head. She decided to go find Monica and clear her head of the letter. As she walked out, she glanced at the picture of Maria and the child again and sighed softly, letting a small smile of gratitude cover her face. This could be enough for her, if she would let it be.

Monia was sitting on the couch still, no longer paying any mind to the tv playing in the background. She was eagerly reading through the huge phone book they usually had sitting on the coffee table, bracing it against her bended knees as she flipped through the yellow pages quickly. 

“What’re you looking for, Lt. Trouble?”

“Someone who sells the parts I need for my next invention! What letter do you think that would be under?”

Carol laughs, deciding to humor the girl.

“Hmm, you know I’m not sure. Have you tried under sales? Or maybe…a junkyard?”

“I could try the junkyard! I didn’t try that yet!”

“Maybe I can get you a hook up from Fury, orrrr maybe your mom knows someone at her job? What’re you even looking for?”

“I already asked her last week! She said she would check but I think she was just saying that. Here’s my list.”

Monica handed Carol a surprisingly long list, with a few things checked off that Carol assumed were already laying around the house. She wondered if Maria knew that these things had been checked off, which gave her a good chuckle. She set the list down and turned to Monica.

“Okay, I think I can get you some of these but the bigger things are definitely gonna need some work. Maybe we can roll down to the junkyard this week?”

“YES! And no take-backsies!”

“Wouldn’t dare. How about you come help me handle the laundry and dishes and then we can head outside?”

“Deal. I think you might need help figuring out the detergent set up Ma’ has anyways. She’s very particular.” 

Monica explains, leaping up into action and grabbing Carol’s hand to pull her along.

Monica was right, Maria had a very elaborate and strict laundry system. The two of them likely didn’t get it exactly right but they did their best to pay attention to details neither of them really cared about but knew Maria did, wanting not only to please and respect Maria, but also wanting to avoid what she would have to say about it if they got it wrong or chose to ignore it. Carol tried to use her powered speed and agility to help make the process move quicker, but it only hindered the experience. She noted that the chance to move slowly and be mindful was probably why Maria seemed to enjoy the routine of laundry and such. It probably helped calm her down and help her be present after long days working to protect the whole world, while still having to be a full time mom to a rather rambunctious child, on top of whatever anxiety Carol added throughout her week. She smiled and decided to try and match the attentiveness. Her and Monica spent a while switching between loading and unloading, doing the dishes left over from dinner last night and breakfast - eventually returning to sort and fold the clean clothes and linens. It smelled lovely in the laundry room, reminding both of them of Maria. It comforted them in a way only she could. 

Once they finished with the inside chores, they decided to mix and match to-do lists. Monica needed to catch some frogs just as much as Carol needed to mow the lawn, she insisted. Carol agreed to help her catch some frogs if she would agree to help her patch up some of the paint that Maria had been avoiding doing. They shook on it, running off into the field that would be mowed down later in the day. They went at it excitedly, jumping around in the tall grass and dirt, painting not so gracefully and splattering white paint on each other by “accident”.

By the time they finished the side of the house and Monica had caught, released and named at least eight frogs that she swore were all different despite being nearly identical, they had both created more laundry to do and were both definitely in need of a bath but neither minded in the slightest. Even once they were done, they chased each other around tirelessly until Monica was hiccupping and giggling at the same time. Carol marveled at Monica’s intrinsic wonder and love at the world around her. In her Hero heart, watching it solidified her sense of duty to protect the galaxy, making sure nothing and no one could ever bring harm to the world her daughter so loved. But in her Carol heart, it made her giddy too. Almost envious in a way. She missed the days when she could roll around in a yard and only worry about trying not to crush too many bugs. Now she had to worry about whether someone was going to crush a planet or not. She often longed for a childhood she never really had, and sometimes even the one she did have when she could piece it together. She knew it wasn’t a good one, but she had Maria. She just had Maria. And now Monica does too, and god was she glad about it. 

Carol picked the younger girl up and flew her to the front porch in a flash, something Maria would swear she didn’t approve of as she fought back her own giggles. Monica shouted with pure glee as her feet landed back on the wood she knew well. They zipped in the house and ran to the kitchen, ready for lunch. Monica decided she would handle making it, promising Carol the best turkey and cheese sandwich she would ever have. Or at least better than she could make herself.

“Mayo or mustard Mama?”

Carol beamed a grin across her face, feeling a familiar hot blush swipe across her at the word mama but she tried to play it cool.

“I want whatever you’re having, Trouble!”

Carol responded happily, only after registering the fact that she hated mustard and hoped that Monica did too. She watched as the girl ran through the kitchen, leaving a small mess across different surfaces. She whipped up the two sandwiches like she did it very often, and sat two plates down in front of Carol with a big toothy smile. 

“Wa-La! The Trouble special!” 

She exclaimed, nudging the sandwich to Carol and taking a big bite out of her own, leaving a smudge of mayo on the inner side of her finger. Thank god, Carol laughed to herself. Before she could remind the girl to make sure she cleaned up, Monica was already stacking up her ingredients and propping open the fridge with her foot. This made the woman smile, knowing she had probably heard one too many times from Maria about cleaning up after herself. 

“Take a bite!” Monica mumbled, chewing down another bite herself and gesturing to Carol with her hands. Carol bit into the sandwich and began mimicking the fancy chefs they would watch on tv together.

“Mmm! Magnificent work yet again, Chef Rambeau!”

Monica smiled before straightening her face and standing up straight before taking a bow, nearly dropping her own sandwich. They both laughed and enjoyed their sandwiches, Carol deciding to sneak Monica a coke in thanks for making the best sandwich she’d ever had, saying "this ones on me” and promising to tell Maria she drank them if she asks. Once they both finished and decided that Monica won the burping contest, they decided to tackle the lawn and climb the tree. Monica ran back outside like she had all the energy in the world, and Carol followed behind at a much slower pace as if she didn’t literally have all the energy in the world.

They took turns pushing the mower up and down the huge yard in different directions, trying to make different drawings with the pattern it created. Carol figured Maria wouldn’t mind much. Once they finished, both sweating under the direct heat of the sun, they were both happy to have some reprieve when they made their way over to the trees. Carol laid down in the grass underneath the biggest tree, grateful for the shade it provided.

She breathed deep, taking in the soft wind that was blowing. It wasn’t as humid as she had expected, another thing she was grateful for. Monica plopped herself next to her, pulling up her tee shirt sleeves to match Carol’s rolled up sleeves. She poked at the tan line appearing where the shirt sat for most of the day. Carol pointed to her own, kind of happy to have a tan to her brown skin again. She spent a lot of time in her suit, so it always felt nice to have regular clothes on. She thought about how the sun on earth felt so different than on other planets, who all had different sources of heat and light. She looked over at Monica, who was now laying down too, watching a lady bug crawl through her hands. She was brighter than the sun, Carol thought, before she pushed her sunglasses up her forehead to tangle in her fro’ again.

“So, you’re gonna conquer the big one today, huh?”

“Absolutely. Mom always gets nervous so she told me to wait until you came home again. The whole super power thing and stuff.”

Monica rolled her eyes and continued looking at the lady bug with curiosity.

“Well, she kinda has a point kiddo. Let’s do it.”

Monica jumped to her feet, pausing only to gently place the lady back in the grass and hopped over to the foot of the tree. She walked around it, looking for the perfect place to start. She found her footing and called Carol over to spot her from behind.

“Alright, pay attention and be careful. Let me know if you get stuck, okay?”

“Gotcha gotcha. If I get stuck, will you fly up to me?” 

Monica asked while climbing up the first couple inches, hoisting herself up to find a sturdy hand hold between two branches and bracing her legs against either side. 

“We’ll see.”

Carol watched intently, squinting her eyes against the sun and smiling with her teeth, hands ready to catch Monica. The girl climbed up a few feet and held on tight.

“So, this is how far I got last time with Mom. I just have to streeetchhhhh over to the next branch.”

“You got this, just pretend your arms are made of elastic and reach.”

Monica tried a few times to stretch over with no success, before deciding to just leap as far as she could to connect her hands. Carol’s heart nearly jumped out her chest, not even realizing her own feet had ended up off the ground, floating next to the girl who had successfully made the jump. She smiled at her mom, ignoring the small scratches on her forearms that were starting to bleed just a little bit.

“Jesu- Good job, Trouble! Just maybe tell me next time?”

“We’ll see.”

Monica shot back with that same toothy grin her mother has. She made her way up the rest of the tree and sat on the highest branch she felt comfortable with, kicking her feet with pride. Carol decided to climb the tree next, doing it with ease to meet Monica on the branch. She sat on the one next to it, as to not add too much weight. 

“Why didn’t you just fly or float or something?” 

“That would be cheating! Plus, I wanna be as cool as you are. I wish I had a camera so we could show your mom!”

“I’ll just have to do it again!”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

Carol laughed, squeezing Monica’s cheek just a bit before letting her climb on her shoulders to fly back down and head to the house to clean up. 

After washing up, they decided to play some video games for a bit until it was time to start setting up for dinner. They had about two hours until Maria got home and they both wanted to at least be started on food when she arrived. Monica pulled out all her favorites and told Carol to pick which one to play first. They took turns picking after the first few rounds of operation, shutes and ladders, and jenga - all of which Monica won.

Carol insisted on playing something she had a fighting chance at, so they grabbed the deck of cards from the coffee table and played Go Fish. Carol won the first round, but Monica won the last three. Finally, admitting full defeat, Carol asked if they had anymore games. Monica grabbed two more from where they kept them, splaying them on the table. Carol’s eyes caught something familiar, pulling it to herself without a thought. She stared at the worn box and tried to remember. Monica watched, offering an explanation just as Carol was finding one of her own.

“Mom says she always used to beat you at this. She wouldn’t play it with me for a while but one day she brought it out after dinner and taught me. She beat me too the first two times, but I beat her after that. You wanna play?”

Carol wasn’t sure if she was biting back a smile, a laugh, or tears. She nodded and let Monica set the board up. Monica read the instructions out loud just in case Carol didn’t remember it, which Carol wasn’t sure if she did. She decided to just play and see what sticks. Monica handed her the light blue piece without asking, and Carol saw that it had her initials written on it. She watched as Monica sorted through the colors, passing over the purple one that had M.R written on it. She felt a tug in her heart as she watched Monica choose the red one that had a small, barely legible M.R on it too. She watched as Monica pulled out cards and then a set of white and black dice. Carol stood up abruptly, leaving Monica no time to question it.

“Hang on, there’s two pieces missing. I’ll go grab them.”

Carol ran upstairs almost embarrassingly fast and b-lined for the box she had looked through earlier. She grabbed the two colorful die she had left there earlier and headed back downstairs, feeling a mixture of excitement and belonging, along with a deeper, quieter sense of yearning. 

Her and Monica played several rounds, Monica winning the first one until Carol remembered all her strategies from all the times she had beat Maria’s ass at the game. Carol agreed to another game, rolling the dice first since she lost the last round. She rolled doubles, and took her turn. While Monica was doing her lucky roll ritual of blowing on the dice and kissing her small hands, Carol felt herself slipping into a memory she had long displaced. She let herself remember slowly, recalling the reason the dice had even been separated from the game board in the first place. 

“You take the board, I’ll take the dice. That way, we both have a piece, neither of us can play, and then no one else gets the chance to whoop your ass. That’s reserved for my talents.”

Carol laughed, but she was being serious. She was desperate to hold onto anything that could be just for them. Something she could carry in her pocket shamelessly, that no one would understand if they saw. They might think she had a gambling addiction or something, no one would suspect she was trying to hold onto any remnants she could of the woman she loved in her everyday life. She watched as Maria chuckled, probably formulating a sarcastic comeback, Carol assumed with a smirk. Maria never just accepted defeat, that's why they had played the game so many times. 

“Sounds good to me, Danvers. I wouldn’t let anybody else win, anyway.” 

Maria quipped back, knowing she never actually let the other woman win but she couldn’t resist making her think about the possibility. She, too, was happy to keep as many tangible reminders of what they had with her. They both had been fighting with themselves for their friendship to be enough, that having that ripped away from them sent them both reeling. She rubbed her finger over the ripped up pricing sticker on the back of the box waiting for Carol to respond.

“Yeah, OKAY. Like hell you let me win. No one loses that many times, THAT bad and is just letting-”

Maria wrapped her arms around the other woman, letting the box and a few pieces fall out on her bed. She held on tight and fought against sniffling. She wouldn’t let herself let it go. Let her go. She felt Carol choke on the words she didn’t get to finish and relax her body into the embrace. It was almost too relaxed. Neither wanted to admit they were fighting back tears that might never stop flowing if they let them start.

Carol didn’t mind being cut off, she was just finding words to string together anyway. There really wasn’t time for small talk but what else were they supposed to do? Leave it up to Maria to figure it out. To do the thing no one else would. To make the move everyone was afraid to - the one Carol was afraid too. Most people thought Carol was the fearless one just based off her usual demeanor and what people saw her do. Little did they know that she had never been more terrified than in this moment. Not knowing when they’d be able to play the game again. Not knowing when they would be able to touch like this again. Not knowing anything other than that they were afraid and loved each other so deeply.

They sat like that for longer than they both figured they should’ve, but neither felt any regret or shame in the moments as they piled up. They both ignored the awkward angle they were in, they both ignored the sounds outside the barracks room, they both ignored the clock as it ticked cruelly forward. They sank into each other, both laying their chins on the other's shoulder, letting the sides of their faces touch. It was close enough to look over and kiss. Neither dared to let the thought get too loud, choosing to let the contact be enough. It always had to be just enough, between them.

They didn’t say much after that, just small hums and sniffles here and there as they rocked slowly trying to find any sort of comfort they could. They laid down after a while, and before Maria could protest through her tears, Carol promised she would get up early enough to make it back to her room before the bus left the base. They laid there, quietly fighting sleep, wrapped as close together as they could be. Maria kept her face down and her forehead on Carol’s chest, Carol kept her arm under Maria’s neck and pulled her as close as she could with the other. Eventually she reached for Maria’s hand, this time it was her turn to do the thing that they both needed someone to do. Maria eventually cried herself to sleep, and Carol stayed up just rocking her softly until the sun came up. 

When she stood up to leave, grabbing her bags and smoothing a hand over her braid, Maria turned over to take her in. She tried to glare at her, but it softened itself against her will into a sad smile. 

“Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye, Danvers.” 

They both felt a warm tear or two tear itself across their cheeks. Carol tried her best to match the smile Maria was bravely offering her but it came off even weaker. She walked over and kissed the woman on the forehead before turning to leave, afraid that if she stayed even a minute longer she would never leave. Thoughts of going AWOL floated through her head for the billionth time since she had gotten her orders four days ago. She fought them off with as much strength as she could muster and took another step into the door frame.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She felt the glare of a rising sun sear into her eyes and she stepped through the threshold, choosing not to look back at the woman on the bed she had just left. Maria wondered if she would’ve looked back either, as she let herself curl into herself and let out the sobs she was fighting back before. She silenced them as best as she could and stayed that way until she had to get up, leaving her no choice but to pull herself together into something that resembled the woman she was just a few days before. 

Carol stood outside the door, trying hard not to listen for Maria for a moment before forcing her feet forward. Step after step, more tears fell from her as she grit her teeth to fight back the screams sitting in her chest. She, too, had to be put together in the next few minutes and it seemed the most impossible task. It almost was.

“Ma’? It’s your turn.”

Carol shook her head, only then registering the wetness in her eyes. She picked up the dice and rolled them, trying to refocus on the game infront of her. She shouted when she rolled doubles again, meaning she got to go twice now.

“Looks like I still got it, afterall!”

“Yeah.. sure. Let’s ignore that I beat you all the other times.” 

Monica laughed out, observing the change in her mother.

“I was just letting you win!”

Carol laughed, mostly to herself, as she moved the blue piece across the board.

“That’s what mom always says. I don’t believe her and I definitely don’t believe you!”

Monica shot back playfully. This made them both laugh, knowing it was true. Some things don’t change.

They kept playing a few turns until Monica finally decided to ask the question she had been formulating the whole game so far.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just now, after you took your first turn. It seemed like you weren’t really here for a little bit.” 

Monica, just like her mother, ever to the point. Carol hesitated before choosing to just answer truthfully.

“Sometimes, when I’m home with you guys or even when I’m out there in space.. If I touch something, or smell something or someone says a certain somethin’... I remember stuff. Sometimes its just a quick second in my mind, sometimes its like flashbacks. I have a lot of rememberin’ to do, so sometimes I get stuck trying to see it clearly.”

Monica stared at the woman in front of her with understanding eyes. She waited a moment before responding.

“That makes sense, you know. I heard on TV that amnesia can make it take a while to get all your memories back.”

Carol shifted in her seat at the word amnesia, because it was so medical. She never actually did get checked out by a doctor on earth, trying to avoid a conversation about why she was super charged 24/7. She didn’t want to draw attention to her family but she had heard the word being tossed around by Fury and Maria a few times. She nodded at Monica, motioning for the girl to take her turn as they talked. Monica continued.

“Ya’know… I like when you remember stuff. Sometimes I get sad thinking you don’t know all the stuff I do. But then I just remember that it's still in there somewhere. There’s a lot of good stuff waiting for you.”

The girl smiled reassuringly, finishing her turn and deciding to pat Carol’s hand softly just like her mom does to her when she’s upset by something.

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Of course I know that. I’m actually a genius, but that’s all just semantics.”

“You got me there, kiddo.”

Carol said while rolling the dice again and moving her pieces. She might actually win this round.

“If you ever have any questions about stuff, you can just ask me. Mommy doesn’t always tell you or me everything, but I remember. Sometimes I think I know more than both of you combined.” 

Monica smirked, looking over the board calculating precisely how to take Carol out now that she had her where she wanted her. She took her turn calmly, trying not to alert Carol to her master plan. Carol watched mindlessly as the girls piece glided across the board. Maybe she wouldn’t win this round, actually.

“That would be nice, Mon. Thanks. You can ask me stuff too. Also, just spare me and take me out now!”

Carol smirked back, knowing she would have to roll doubles again to beat the red piece.

“It’s no fun if you just give up!”

Carol decided to do Monica’s good luck trick this time, blowing on each die separately and then kissing her hands when she brought them together. She tossed them on the board aimlessly, trying not to focus on the numbers so she didn’t jinx it. They both watched as both die rolled a 3.

“No way!”

“Haha! Maybe your lucky trick does work!” 

Carol laughed as she moved her piece past Monica’s and into the goal. Finally, a win. She stood up and did a goofy dance around the table like Monica had done before her when she was winning. They both started the giggles again, deciding it was probably time to start cleaning up and getting everything ready for dinner.

As they sorted through the cabinets together, Monica standing on the counter despite what her mother would say, Monica began telling Carol stories to see if she could help jog her memory since Carol hadn’t asked any questions yet. She ran through her baby years, her toddler years - especially her ‘troublesome two’s’ as Maria calls them, and everything up until when Carol went missing. They both chose not to talk about why there was such a gap in time. Carol listened quietly, laughing here and there when the story almost always resulted in some hilarious mishap on Carol and Monica’s part. Monica felt successful as she could see her mom piecing things together while they attempted to boil noodles and mix together pasta sauce on the stove. They both tried to keep it from getting messy, not wanting to add any stress to Maria’s plate when she got home. 

Monica told as many stories as she could while Carol took them in happily, filing some away to focus on later when she could fully process them. They were all happy moments, usually funny. It was nice to know that life was good before the accident. Finally, when they started grating the cheese together, Monica decided she would ask some questions now since she had told so many stories. She had a lot she wanted to know too. 

“Here, you do this one and I’ll do this one. Just be careful with the grater, it can get tricky towards the end.” 

Carol motioned to Monica as she walked over to the table with a bowl to put the cheese in when they were done. Carol picked up some cheese and got to work, being mindful herself. Just because cuts healed up quickly for her didn’t mean they didn’t sting when she got them. She knew this well, especially being in a kitchen. Monica started grating too, trying to perfectly time her question. She had been through the boxes upstairs too, always making sure to leave them how she found them so she didn’t tip her mother off. She never understood why she kept them private from her like she didn’t already know about most of the stuff in there. 

“So, why don’t you and mom kiss anymore?”

Carol’s hand skidded to a stop, a choke coming up her throat that ended in a cough she could barely get out. She stood there stunned for a moment, unsure if she had heard the girl correctly. She didn’t notice the small cut on the side of her finger from the edge of the grater yet.

“W-what?”

“Why don’t you and mommy kiss anymore? I don’t know why she keeps all that stuff in the boxes upstairs a secret like I didn’t always see you guys. It was normal when you guys acted normal, now it’s weird seeing you two act different. Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

Carol was still too stunned to speak, standing over the more than half grated cheese that was now no good to use since her finger was bleeding a bit more. Monica looked up at her and noticed the blood, then stared at her with those same curious eyes, only now a touch of concern in them. Carol could feel the stare so she forced herself to shake her head again, clearing her throat in the process.

“I, um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about I don’t think.”

“Right. Here, your blood is ruining the cheese.”

Monica handed her a towel. Carol looked down and finally noticed all the blood. It wasn’t a crazy amount but definitely enough to have ruined the cheese. She wrapped the towel around it and walked to the sink, rinsing it off with cool water while she felt like she was in a daze. She started thinking about the letter Maria had sent her again. She read through the words in her head again, over and over while the water stung her finger. She could hear Monica in the back cleaning up her mess and she felt bad. She felt bad for ruining a part of dinner per usual, but also for reacting this way. And for not actually having an answer. She couldn’t have been sure before this but now she could.

Maybe? Maybe Monica meant cheek kissing or forehead kisses. Maybe her child mind was more innocent than Carol’s confused one. She turned the water off and looked in the junk drawer for some bandaids. She pulled out a pink barbie one and wrapped it tight over her new cut. It would probably be gone in a few hours but she wanted the security of the bandaid in the moment. For some reason, she felt shaken up again. Her face felt hot and her chest felt tight. She turned back to Monica who was finishing up her grating now, adding it into the bowl. As Carol walked back over to grab it to put with the rest of the food, she was searching for something to say in response that actually made sense. Before she could get anything out, Monica chimed in again.

“I’m sorry I asked, I wasn’t sure if it would make you feel funny. But please don’t tell mom I was snooping. I just wanted to see as much of you as I could. But she’ll be upset with me if you tell, I think.”

“Don’t worry about it, Trouble. Secrets safe with me.” 

Carol said, smiling weakly at the girl. Monica did feel bad, but she also kind of knew this would be the reaction Carol would have. It only confirmed one of her theories, that Carol didn’t remember that her and Maria were in a relationship. She was almost tempted to say something else when they both heard the sound of Maria’s car pull in the long drive way. They looked at each other and nodded quickly. Monica started cleaning off the table while Carol started making plates. Finally, something her super speed could help with. She made all three plates and set them on the table right as Maria opened the front door. Monica ran over to her, hugging her tightly as she hung her bag on the rack near the door. She hugged back, running her hand softly over the girls forehead with a smile. 

“Smells good in here. Did Monica cook?” Maria laughed, kicking off her work shoes and slipping on the sandals she wore around the house. 

“Haha, very funny!”

Carol shouted from the kitchen where she was borderline having a panic attack, trying to figure out how to act normal enough to get through the rest of the night with Monica’s question looming over her head.

“Nope, I only helped! Mama Carol did most of the work. I made lunch though. Mom said it was the best sandwich she’d ever had anywhere in all the galaxies!”

Monica exclaimed, only half telling the truth, as she nearly dragged Maria to the kitchen table. 

“I said something like that, yes.”

Carol laughed, her mouth forming into a smile when her eyes met Maria’s.

Maria smiled back before quickly looking around the kitchen, half expecting to see a new scorch mark somewhere. 

“It looks… the same as I left it, in here, minus a few dirty dishes. I’m impressed, Danvers.” 

Maria smirked, walking to the sink to wash her hands before sitting down and letting Monica get in her lap. She was certainly growing, she barely fit between the table and Maria anymore but she always made it work. 

“How was your day?”

Monica asked her mother, once again kicking her feet excitedly, being back in the presence of Maria. It meant a lot to Maria that she still got excited to see her. She hoped it would last through puberty.

“Ya’know, same ol’ same ol’. Protecting the world from aliens, which oddly enough usually is just a bunch of paperwork no one else reads or signs. So, pretty successful I guess.”

Maria laughed, pulling Monica’s cheek in for a small peck.

“I’m more interested in how YA’LL’S day went. The lawn looks… great, by the way.”

Before Carol could chime in, which she wasn’t going to being that she was staring at Maria’s toned arms the entire time she’d been in the room, Monia answered for them both.

“It was AWESOME! We caught so many frogs, I named one after you, and then I finally climbed up the whole tree!”

Maria chuckled, noting the small scrapes on her daughter but not worrying. It wasn’t a normal day if Monica didn’t get at least one scrape or bruise from her exploring.

“Well, I’m flattered. Did you get any help from a certain superhero, by any chance?”

“Nope, she did it all on her own. Much faster than I did, too.”

Carol answered while shooting her hands up like finger guns, shooting a wink to Monica who delighted at the remark.

Maria looked at the pink Barbie bandaid on the woman’s finger and half laughed half frowned.

“Seems like no one made it out without a few cuts today, huh?”

Carol looked down at her hand, almost embarrassed. She laughed.

“She got that from grating cheese, not climbing the tree!”

Monica answered, once again saving Carol from trying to find words. 

“Why am I not surprised? Well anyways, thank you both for doing such a good job with the chores today. Looks like you both really earned that extra tv time tonight.” 

Maria winked at them both before letting Monica scoot off her leg and back into her own chair, ready to eat.

“Thank god, I’m so hungry. I forgot to pack lunch last night so all I had today was a bunch of coffee and some nasty as- mm, some gross altoids my secretary had.”

“Sheesh. I hope it actually tastes like food this time then! Oop, I forgot the forks.” Carol said, about to get up and grab them. Monica beat her to it and ran over to the counter, leaving the two women with a moment or two to take each other in. They both held back a sigh, and just smiled at each other. The eye contact felt too much for both of them, for the same and different reasons. 

Monica returned and they broke their shared gaze, both feeling a mixture of missing it and thankful that it was over. Monica handed everyone a fork she had picked specifically for them and they all ate, swapping stories of their days back and forth. Maria laughed feeling relieved hearing how well the day went, she was hoping she would still have a house to come back between Monica and Carol. As they were all finishing their meals, Maria noticed the stack of games left out on the coffee table. 

“Make sure you put those up, Mon’.” She said softly, taking a sip of some iced tea. 

“I will. Also, guess who won the most games tonight? Guess, guess!”

Carol shook her head with a laugh.

“Hmm, if I was gonna take a wild guess… You?!” 

Maria smiled widely, pointing at her daughter playfully.

“You betcha’! I whooped Mama Carol’s butt like eighty billion times at all the games. Even the one you taught me that she was supposed to be super good at, even with the new fancy dice! She only won that one three times, and the last one was just pure luck cause’ I almost had it!” 

Carol and Monica laughed together, and suddenly Maria’s eyes unfocused. The laughter in the background melted into one sound, and everything else started to go quiet. She thought about the dice. The colors on the dots. Where she had left them sitting, in the box, in her room. She thought about why they were in Carol’s belongings and not her own. Then she thought about everything else that was in the box with them. She only came to when Monica and Carol’s laughing slowed down, reminding her that it would seem weird if she didn’t respond in the next second or two.

“Well, it looks like the mighty do fall sometimes. I used to let her win that game every time we played it.” 

Maria half heartedly laughed with a smirk, almost instantly regretting bringing up the past. Carol looked down at her almost empty plate for a moment before fixing her own face to shoot back something well timed and sarcastic enough to play off the shudder that sentence sent through her spine.

“Hmm, crazy cause when it comes to everyone else in the world, meaning you, I’m still the world champion. Monica just had that lucky dice trick.” 

Before Maria could even laugh, Monica jumped in.

“Hey! It’s not just the lucky dice, I just also happen to be the smartest person in the whole wide stinkin’ world too!”

“You make a good point.”

Carol and Maria said in unison, both with an adoring laugh. All three looked at each other and broke out laughing, feeling thankful for the lack of awkwardness that probably would’ve left in the air if it wasn’t so funny.

After that, everyone finished and avoided the different subjects on everyone’s minds happily. Carol cleaned up the plates, grazing by Maria’s arm while she walked to the sink. Monica pulled Maria over to the couch with her while Carol washed the dishes, quickly putting away all the games they had left out and positioning herself on the couch while Maria flipped through the channels for her. She had sat right in the middle, leaving just enough space for either woman on both sides of her. She really did live up to that nickname sometimes, both mother’s thought. When Carol made her way over, they were just settling on a show to watch. 

“Remember, you get 10 extra minutes.”

“Does that have to count commercials? Can we pause the timer when they come on? Pleeeeeaasssshhhhh.”

Monica pretended to beg to both women who laughed. 

“We’ll see what we can do. Time starts now, though.”

Maria answered her. Monica turned towards the tv and leaned back, wanting to take in every minute she had. She normally would get about an episode and a half in during her nighttime tv, maybe two if her mom dozed off in between. She was sure she was going to get at least two this time, since Maria looked sleepy. She didn’t account for Carol’s super powers making her have a longer stamina, but she figured she wouldn’t snitch. She looked up at her as they watched and she shot her down a wink in return, solidifying their silent agreement. As long as it was still summertime, Carol didn’t have an issue with it. Of course, she wouldn’t go against Maria, though, unless of course she fell asleep. Which she usually did. 

The three sat through an episode, choosing not to count the commercials in their internal timers, and started the second one. A few minutes in, Monica had positioned herself with her head and back on Carol’s lap, with her legs and feet on Maria’s. She watched the show quietly, not noticing herself dozing off. Once the second episode was over, she was fast asleep, nearly drooling on Carol. Both women laughed quietly at the sight. Maria reaches for the remote to turn off the tv while Carol effortlessly lifts Monica up and begins to walk her to her room. As she walks away, Maria fights the idea of Carol lifting her that way and carrying her to bed. She shakes her head and stands up to go to the fridge.

When Carol makes her way back downstairs after carefully tucking the young girl in, she’s greeted with Maria passing her a beer and a bottle opener. 

“Not sure if you still need to use these, but c’mon.”

Carol doesn’t need it but she chooses to use it anyway. She follows Maria without question through the front door and onto the porch. The sun is down now and it’s not quite as warm as it was the night before. 

“God, I’ve been waiting for this all day.” 

Maria says, taking a long swig from the cold bottle. She sits down on the steps and leans back on her elbows, beer still laced between her fingers. She looks like she’s relaxing but Carol wonders if she is. She stands against one of the posts for a moment, opening her beer, before sitting down next to the woman but not too close. She hopes she’s the only one who can feel the tension in the air. It’s different than last time she was home.

“Long day, I take it?”

“Always.” 

Maria sighs with a short laugh, taking another sip. 

“But that’s the job. I’m sure you get it.”

Maria finishes, not sure if what she said sounded shady or not. It wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe it was, but it wasn’t coming from the part of her she was trying to show up as it. It was coming from the part she was burying inside of her.

“I do, but I also don’t. You have a lot to handle all the time. I’m happy I… can help, I guess.”

Carol wasn’t sure if that last part was a question or not. They both almost flinched at the word help. Carol was more than just a friend who liked to help. She was a parent and neither wanted her to take that away from herself just because of how long she had been away. Both decided not to say anything in the moment, though. They both just sipped their beers and looked out in front of them, gazing up and out at the world around them. Somehow, it felt bigger now that they were both on it together.

Maria thought about the box again, trying to keep it from her mind to no avail. She also thought about Carol’s skin grazing against hers in the kitchen earlier. She wondered if their contact would be minimal. Despite the late night and early morning they had shared, they hadn’t really touched or even been this close since. The first night never counted, that was their unspoken rule since the second time Carol had been home.

She was exhausted when she arrived, fighting to stay awake long enough to talk to both Rambeaus’ even though she wanted to so badly. It had been a particularly grueling mission and she had flown directly back to Earth after the conflict was over, not taking a break. So, when Maria offered to watch some TV with her on the couch, she sank quickly into the cushions. Before they knew it, they had woken up to the sun coming through the living room windows, curled into each other. Neither thought it was weird then, so why was it weird now? 

Carol thought about the box too, rereading the words from the letter in her mind again. Thinking about the pictures on Maria’s desk. Then she thought about the dream she had, with everyone sitting on the porch. She was so deep into replaying it that she almost jumped when a frog hopped by, startling both women from their respective day dreams.

“I think that’s the one Monica named after you.”

Carol laughed, remembering the day she had fondly.

“I’m flattered.”

Maria laughed back, the laugh jumping up her throat. It’s like she needed to laugh, after a long day of dealing with domestic and intergalactic bullshit, along with the mark Carol was burning into her brain.

It started to go quiet again until Carol spoke up, feeling the bubbles from the beer in her brain even if it wasn’t going to get her tipsy.

“You know, I dream about sitting on this porch a lot.” “Yeah?”

Maria asks, not looking at Carol.

“Yeah. With you and Mon. There’s always a shit ton of bubbles everywhere and it’s always a really nice day. I have that dream a lot. Except for when I’m actually here.”

Carol explained, partly relieved to share it with Maria. She leaned back, taking a sip before setting the beer down on the step next to her. She waited to see if Maria would answer, unsure if she wanted her to. 

Maria sat with a small smile, unsure if she would be able to keep herself composed through the moment. She dreams about home. 

“You know, when you first came back with your powers, I wondered if you still even needed to sleep.”

“Ha, you know I had the same thought when I realized I wasn’t actually half Kree. On the planet, I slept but I never felt tired. I only started to feel regular human things when I came back here. It was nice to feel sleepy again. It made rest feel satisfying, instead of just kind of necessary.”

Maria looked over at Carol, daring to meet eyes if she looked over too. She wanted to run a hand over the woman's thigh, comfort her for all the things she was sure were running through her mind. She wanted to reach out, pull her into her chest, and hold her there like a child. She wanted to rip all the pain of being conditioned and having to fight to undo it from her, stop it out on the ground and set it on fire for her. With a regular match, not fire from her hands even though sometimes she was convinced she could produce some magic power from her own hands too if she let herself feel enough. She hadn’t realized she had been staring and hadn’t responded until Carol finally turned to look at her. 

“I’m okay, you know. You don’t have to look at me like I’m gonna burst into flames any second. I’m okay, I feel normal being here.”

Carol smiled reassuringly, almost shyly.

“I know, I just hate those bastards.”

Maria sighed, letting her shoulders fall as she looked down at the space between them.

“I feel you. But, you know, someone once told me hate takes up too much room.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat. Of course Carol would remember one of her wiser parables now, when all she wanted to do was be angry for her. It was usually the other way around, but despite her usual craziness, Carol always had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, even if she didn’t mean to. A superpowered space warrior was right two times a day, it seemed. She let herself laugh, but it came out rougher than she had expected. 

Carol reached over instinctively to grab her hand, squeezing it tight. That’s the second time. Maria thought, wondering if Carol was counting the times they touched too. She felt a dangerous warmth push its way to her chest. She would blame it on the beer like she always did but she couldn’t. Why was she on the verge of tears?

“Hey.” Carol whispered, trying to look at the woman’s face. She tried to smile, squeezing her hand again. This time, Maria squeezed back before pulling it away and picking her empty beer bottle up. 

“I think I’m gonna take a shower, long day, you know. If you wanna borrow some pajamas again, feel free to grab some from my dresser.”

Carol sat still for a moment, wondering if she had gone too far. Normally conversations like this would flow with ease and mutual fluidity. They would hang on each other’s every word until the inevitable came when the sun rose. Maria would wake Monica up to say goodbye, they’d share a cup or two of coffee and by the time the sun was almost at it’s peak, Carol would be long in the distance, no longer even in the atmosphere. So now, having more time than normal, she hoped she hadn’t over stepped. As Maria closed in on the door, only half a step before entering, Carol turned around to look at her.

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

Maria paused, not sure what to say. How did she communicate that she would rather pull her own hair out strand by strand than lay in her bed alone, without Carol Danvers, for another night? How did she explain that she didn’t want to sleep, she was tired in a way only Carol’s skin and fingers and mouth could heal her of? How did she communicate that this was her house too, and she could sleep wherever the fuck she wanted - on the roof if she pleased - as long as Maria could be next to her, without saying any of that?

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” She turned and smiled as best as she could before letting the screen door close behind her, trying to keep a normal pace as she made her way to the bathroom.

Carol sat on the steps for a few more minutes, giving Maria time to get her things for her shower ready and giving herself time to ponder what she should do. Should she sleep on the couch? Should she tell Maria that there’s no where in the universe more comfortable to her than next to her? Should she pretend she didn’t read the letter and see the pictures and hear what Monica said earlier? Should she just sleep on the god damn couch? Having not made up her mind yet, she wandered upstairs and pulled out an old teeshirt from one of the boxes she had been in earlier. She shivered when she looked at the box with the letter in it. She forced herself to focus, shuffling through to find anything appropriate to wear and pulled out some old PT shorts. They were certainly going to be shorter on her now than they were then, given she had put on some much needed muscle in certain areas but they’d have to do.

She felt too embarrassed to go through Maria’s drawer, wear her clothes and then awkwardly make her way to the couch downstairs, only to have to face her in the morning when breakfast time came. She didn’t feel right marking Maria’s belongings, even if they were just a bunch of holiday themed pajamas that she didn’t wear that often anyways. 

Carol decided to change as quickly as she could, and wait to say goodnight to Maria when she came in. She figured she should probably sleep on the couch, suddenly feeling very much like a guest who didn’t want to overstay their welcome. She switched out of her bottoms and underwear, jumping into the shorts she had found. They were snug but not uncomfortable. She took her shirt off quickly and as she began pulling her sports bra over her head, Maria walked in.

Shit.

Shit.

They both thought in unison. Thankfully, Carol’s back was to the door, so she pulled on the t shirt she found quickly while scolding herself for not paying attention enough to hear Maria coming down the hall. 

“S-sorry! I didn’t know you were in here yet. Didn’t see anything.” 

Maria assured, despite the fact that she was still staring at Carol’s once bare back while the woman folded up her clothes in a hurry. To Carol’s surprise, when she turned around, all she saw was Maria’s naked shoulders, moisturized perfectly, with a purple towel wrapped around her. She turned back around almost quicker than Maria could register. It was Carol’s turn to stutter.

“Oh shit, s-sorry! I didn’t see anything either! I didn’t hear you coming!”

Maria accidentally laughed.

“Don’t you have super hearing?”

“Shut up! It only works when you pay attention to it! I thought you were still in the shower. I’m surprised you were so fast, Lt. Trouble told me you use all the hot water.”

Carol quipped back confidently, although she was still turned around and suddenly felt very warm.

“Oh, Trouble indeed. What else did she tell you?”

“A bunch.” 

Carol responded with a smirk in her voice. She sounded like a middle schooler, again reminding Maria how alike her and Monica were. 

“I’m sure. You can turn around now, if you want.”

Carol turned to see Maria smoothing a big white shirt over her belly button, quickly covering up the top of her thighs that were barely covered by the blue boy shorts she was wearing underneath. Carol stared down at the clothes in her hands trying not to seem as anxious as she was. She bent down to pick up the black pair of underwear and a sock she had dropped when she heard Maria chuckle.

“HA! What the hell are you wearing? Are those PT shorts? And does your underwear say Danvers? You still do that?” 

She was practically giggling at this point, a sound that sprung butterflies up in Carol’s stomach. It also taunted her, leaving her no choice but to rebuttal. 

“Listen man! I’m working with what I got! And no, I don’t still write my name in my underwear. I got these from the box of my old clothes.” 

Carol quipped, but found herself almost giggling too. She would’ve found it funny if Maria had on PT shorts from bootcamp too. 

“Whew. That is hilarious, Danvers.”

Maria breathes out, barely recovering from her fit of laughter at Carol’s expense. 

“Oh yeah, I’m flattered!”

She rolled her eyes playfully at Maria. They both sat down on the bed trying to collect themselves, both feeling lighter than before by a small margin.

After a few moments, Maria broke the impending silence before it could secure itself between them.

“Seems like you an Mon’ had a good day. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble for one day.”

“Nah, it wasn’t too bad at all. She did whoop my ass in pretty much every game you guys own though.”

Carol smiled to herself. Maria fought hard to avoid bringing up the board game and the dice again. She quickly found a new topic to latch onto.

“You know, I must say, you also really did a great job not burning the place down with all that cooking you were doing. Are the aliens teaching you how to handle a kitchen or have you been practicing?”

She laughs, almost forced but she was actually impressed.

“Mmm. Id say it was pure dumb luck, but I’m gonna try to replicate it tomorrow.” 

Carol chuckles, not knowing that the mention of tomorrow was sending Maria’s heart into a frenzy. Silence weasled it’s way back between them for a few moments, although Carol didn’t pick up on it as much this time. It wasn’t until Maria broke it again that she realized it was her turn to figure out how to not let it freeze the warm air between them.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?” 

Maria asked timidly, not wanting to latch too tightly onto the idea that Carol might be staying for longer than coffee in the morning.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow. I wanna try my hand at making waffles this time.”

Carol tries to cut the returned tension she felt. 

“I was thinking about working on my old car in the garage too, if that’s okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, of course. You know you don’t have to ask. This is your house, too. And it’s literally your car.”

Your house, too. Carol reached into the pocket of the pants she had on earlier, pulling out two colorful dice. She rolled them around in her hand for a second. 

“Yeah?”

She said, turning to finally face the woman sitting once again a bit too far away from her. The feeling of being a guest in her own home no longer sat in her chest. She allowed her eyes to make their way up Maria’s frame before meeting her eyes. Carol felt her hand move towards the woman, who was now looking down at one of the die in her non moving hand. Maria was almost terrified to meet her gaze, breath caught in her throat. Carol felt their hands connect, dropping the other die in her hand before closing her fingers around Maria’s. The woman next to her squeezed tight, almost too tight even for the superhero. 

Maria finally met Carol’s eyes with her own, finally releasing her breath, allowing her chest to move. 

“Yeah.” 

She said softly, almost too soft to hear but just enough for Carol. They both looked like they might burst into tears, both of them having to break eye contact but refusing to release each other from their grip. Third time, Maria counted in her blurring mind. She suddenly felt like all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Carol’s breath. They were close again, it was all she needed. She needed to feel Carol’s skin, know she was real. Know she wouldn’t let go.

Carol struggling against her own breath, finally let the desperation sitting inside of her take control. 

“What’re we doing, ‘Ri?”

She asked, in almost a whisper. She heard Maria’s breath get choked in her throat, just like she had earlier in the kitchen with Monica. She was still worried that she might have pushed too far too fast, but she needed something. Anything Maria could give her. An answer, a rejection, anything. She couldn’t sit still in the stifled confusion much longer, she feared she might actually implode. She waited, listening to Maria’s breathing. In and out, in and out. Like she was trying to quietly catch her breath. She heard her heart beat, it matched her own. Like they could beat out of their chests and find the other heart. Like they needed to be pressed together. So, Carol did just that. Finally listening to what her body was telling her. Hoping it wouldn’t be the wrong thing.

Just as Maria tried to whisper I don’t know, she let go of Maria’s hand and pulled her in, chest to chest, nestling her face in Maria’s shoulder. Maria whimpered, almost in shock. It took her almost 10 seconds to return the embrace, finally crushing into Carol the way she needed to. She knelt her face in the warmth of Carol’s neck, creating a tsunami in Carol from the graze of her lips against the side of her neck alone. They made themselves impossibly close, quieting the sounds of the world and honing in on each other’s heart beats. They took in each other’s scent, filling their lungs with the air surrounding each other. They let their hair tickle each other, finding comfort in the familiar feeling of Blackness around them. They rocked into each other to a rhythm that was so natural it almost felt like part of breathing. Finally, Maria let it drop.

A single tear rolled down Carol’s shoulder, sliding down as far as it could carry itself. Maria choked back what was sure to be her own tsunami.

“Mar-”

“I miss you. -- I miss you I m-iss you I miss you.”

She whispered with a drawn out sob. It was so quiet, it felt tragic to them both. 

Carol was silent, letting the woman release whatever she was ready to, feeling her chest heave with the impatience to relieve itself from the pent up emotions. She felt the woman in her arms shake softly, trying to fight back anything she convinced herself was a weakness. She had things to do, a person to be, a child to raise. She couldn’t let the grief get her again. But it was always there, maybe even more now in some ways. She hadn’t let this happen in so long, and the weight of pretending had pushed her to the edge of herself. She was the strongest woman in the world, and it was because she was soft. 

Carol struggled against her own tears, trying not to let them come so that she wouldn’t center her own pain in the moment. They were both too similar for their own good. She listened to Maria’s body pull the words up her throat and out her mouth, betraying her as they saved her from the pit she kept forcing herself into.

“I miss you ss-so much.” She repeated several times over. Like it was the only language she spoke. Eventually, she stopped, letting her fingers relax from gripping into Carol’s skin as tight as she could. She leaned into Carol more, feeling the weight of her body’s exhaustion mix with that of her mind. Carol let her, holding her firm but gentle. She lifted the woman up just as effortlessly as she did Monica, and carried her to her side of the bed, never moving her face from her shoulder. She laid her and herself down, sliding easily over top of her until she was on her side, careful not to put any weight on Maria’s body. She pulled the cover over them, that being the only time her hand left Maria’s body. She cradled the soft woman, giving her all of herself. She rocked her gently, counting her heart beats. 

As Maria’s breath finally got slower and deeper, she knew she would be asleep soon. Maria didn’t want to sleep but she needed it. Carol needed it to. They stuck to each other like glue, once again paying no mind to the heat stuck between them. Carol whispered back, finally.

“I miss you too.”

She felt Maria squeeze her tighter, then release and finally relax her body all the way. 

No more sniffles, no more sounds, just the weightless feeling of being together. It was easy again, for the moment. Carol rubbed her thumb lightly over Maria’s back, comforting them both enough to rest. She let the thoughts she had been fighting release from the walls of her mind, daring to look at them. She thought about the night in the lake, laying in the sand. She thought about the night before she left for a new base, with no idea when they’d be together again. She thought about the first time she came home, the gentle uncertainty between them melting away like it always did - no matter how much still needed to be figured out. She wasn’t sure how much progress had been made, but she knew that this is where she needed to be. As she finally let herself drift off to sleep, knowing that Maria was alright enough now, she knew she wouldn’t dream. She released herself to the peace of belonging, only to be startled one more time.

“Don’t you even think about leaving until you finish that car.” 

Maria commanded, even in her softest state. Carol smiled, feeling even more in place now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[mamsieur]

Used to it | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Being Pete Mitchell's daughter has never been easy. But maybe one mission could bring you back together ?

TW : angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, mention of alcohol, panic attack, canonical character death, age gap (reader is 27 and Bradley is 35)

Length : 7156 words

AN : I'm sorry for making Pete seem like a bad father but that man is not stable enough to handle a child in my opinion.

posted on AO3 July 12, 2023

You were 7 when your mother left your father, Pete Mitchell. 

You didn't have many early memories of him. There were only the arguments with your mother, his departures on missions that left you in tears, the missed birthdays and Christmases. It’s all you’ve ever known so you were used to it and being a child, you found it normal.

You were 7 when your mother decided to move out, leaving your whole life behind. You remember crying your eyes out in protest. As your mom tried desperately to get you out of the house, you clung with all your might to Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw was 15 and your regular babysitter, though your mother thought of him as a son, Carole and her were really close. They liked to remind you that when you were 4, you proudly announced that you were going to marry him. Bradley was almost always around, and Pete was his godfather, and they had a bond you envied. Despite the eight-year age difference, you remember being very close to your "Bradbrad" . He never pushed you away, was always ready to play Lego or other board games with you. He even took you to the park or with him when he went to the theater with his friends - when the movies were kids friendly -.

You were 7 , and your whole world shattered. No more Bradley, no more hanging to the naval base to have a glimpse of your dad and his incredible plane, no more aunty Carole and her sweet singing. You had hated your mom for years before understanding you left for the best.  She was finally happy ; not completely, she missed her friends and sometimes your father, but you could feel that she was happier away from the hustle and bustle of the navy, of your dad. You were not used to the strange calmness of the city, but your grandparents made it easy to adapt. Soon enough, you got used to the loving cocoon your mother succeeded to create around you.

You were 16, at your mother's funeral, when you had to accept the fact that you had to go back to live with Pete. When the two of you finally found each other in the crowd, he didn't say much, just gave you a few brief updates. You asked him about Bradley, a bit sad to not have seen him here, and he didn't have much to say. Only that the two of them were no longer as close as they had been.

The silence between you was uncomfortable. 

Of course, Pete had kept in touch over the years, calling on your birthdays, sending a little something. You spent some Christmas with him when he wasn't working and a few days during the summer break ; but Pete Mitchell loved his work too much to focus on you. As long as you lived with your mother, Pete's absence from your life wasn't something you suffered from, at least not really. 

You were used to it. Used to the absence, used to the missed calls, used to the Christmases with the attention of other aviators and their families but the ignorance of your dad, used to the unanswered phone calls.  Used to his silence.

But now your mum was dead... and you were dreading having to join your father in California.

You were 16 and you didn't want to live with him, you already knew what would happen ; he'd go flying, on a mission or for his own pleasure, leaving you alone at home - if you could call it home. The hangar where he lived now was something you'd always hated . It had no place for anything or anyone other than his passion for the sky, for planes and speed. You didn't want to leave your new life, even though you loved California. Your school, your friends, your family, your routine. But you didn't really have much of a choice. You were 16. He was now your legal guardian and you didn't want to drag your grandparents into a custody battle.  Even though part of you told yourself that your dad would probably agree to let you stay with them, you didn't want to take that chance. And you hoped he'd be more present, that you'd finally have the father you'd dreamed of, that your other friends had. If other military parents could be there for their children, why couldn't Pete?

Perhaps because Pete loved flying more than anything else in the world.  The sky was his one true love.

Even though you knew it, you held out the faintest hope that he would finally take his responsibilities as a father. Unfortunately, Pete was still Pete. He wasn't cut out to be a father. A fun uncle, maybe. A parent, no. The fact that Bradley no longer spoke to him proved that.

You were 18 when you packed your bags and headed off to the naval school in Maryland. You wanted to be a pilot too. And you wanted to get away from that bloody hangar, so empty, so alone.

Pete wasn't there when you left.  Not even a message or a note. Nothing at all.

You weren't even surprised.

It was Tom Kazansky - Uncle Tom - who had taken you to the airport. He had been more present in your life than your own father, even though you rarely saw him. You knew your relationship with Pete was a sensitive subject, and you knew when Tom gave him a hard time. Pete was suddenly more present - too present . He'd pop into your life for a few days, trying to be the cool or bossy dad, but it always ended in a fight. 

You hated it when he did that. You hated the way he would act like your friend, or like a strict parent, talking about curfew and how no boys were allowed in his 'home'. You hated the way he would try to be the father that he had never been in your whole life. You hated the way he tried to convince you that he was trying to change, that he'd be there for you.

But you couldn't blame Uncle Tom for trying to shake your father. He had children too, but despite his love of the air, he had been a present parent to them.  

But some days were not as bad as others. Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, Pete would take you flying. And even though it was hard to admit, you were a bit of a flier yourself. The feeling of freedom, of being alone in a comforting way. It was mesmerizing.

So, without him knowing, you decided to join the navy after graduation. You took your mother's name, Evans , so that you would not attract attention. Only Tom knew, so your dad wouldn't and couldn't pull your papers like he did with Bradley. 

You found out that he had done this when you saw Bradley one day in the summer before you made your choice. At first you did not recognize him.  He was 26 now. He was taller, more muscular and had a 80s mustache that suited him well - puberty had treated him really good. He was the spitting image of his father, whom you'd only seen in photographs and heard about when Tom and Pete reminisced over drinks about the past.

But Bradley had the same look in his eyes as his mother, Carole. 

As a child, you adored Carole. She was always there to comfort you when your parents were at odds, picking you up from kindergarten when your father was on a mission and your mother was at work… She was kind of a second mom. You went to her funeral with your mother eight years ago, you never cried so much.

The summer of your reunion with Bradley had been the summer of his return from the Naval Academy, which he had graduated from with honors. He was a very good pilot and would soon be going on a mission. The day before he left, you snuck out of the hangar to meet him at a nearby bar. He had celebrated his departure with you and a handful of friends, promising to keep in touch as often as possible.  As he left, you realized how much you'd missed your Bradbrad.

You were 18, and you remembered how quiet the ride to the airport had been. Part of you wanted to stay.  You loved California. It was close to the ocean, the people were friendly, and at the Navy base everyone knew you.

You'd even earned a nickname, the call sign you hoped to use soon : Tempest .  It was a bittersweet memory of a stormy night when Pete "forgot" to pick you up from baseball practice. You had landed on the base, mad as hell, soaked to the bone. You'd yelled at your father as hard as the storm had raged. It had been a huge fight. And of course, everyone had heard. Surprisingly, many had defended you rather than your father. You were relieved then. And to cheer you up while your dad was embarrassed, Tom took you to your favorite fast food and laughed with you about the scene. "You walked in there like a damn storm, a tempest ! Heck, that should be your call sign when you join the ranks !" You smiled as you remembered his raspy laugh and all the stories he told you about his days at Topgun . 

It was through those stories that you learned a little bit more about your father, The Maverick . His accomplishments, his reckless attitude in the air, his urge to always define what’s possible and pushing the limits.  Your desire, your need , to join the Navy to become a pilot only grew, digging a hole of longing for the sky deep inside you.  You wanted your father to see you, to acknowledge you. You wanted to be more like him.

You were 27 years old when you were called to the NAS North Island for a "top secret" mission that required "the best of the best". To your surprise, you were one of the youngest and one of the only women. But you'd missed California too much to worry about such details.  Like many pilots, you had joined the Hard Deck for a drink the day before training began. You soon met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Two strong personalities. Then came Javy “Coyote” Machado and Robert "Bob" Floyd. He was discreet, a bit shy. And before you could introduce yourself to the others, someone entered the bar and caught Jake's eye.

"Bradshaw. As I live and breathe."

"Hangman. You look... good." His voice was behind you and you didn't dare turn around to see him. 

"Well, I am good. I'm very good Rooster ."

You let the two men talk, then Bradley greeted Natasha and the others. At last, his gaze landed on you. You couldn't help but smile stupidly. He looked so surprised and happy. "Y/N Tempest Evans?!"

"Hey Bradbrad ..." you smiled and happily accepted his embrace. He squeezed you against him and asked you all about your journey, which you happily did, while in the distance the bell rang, indicating that a customer couldn't pay his bill and had to be kicked out. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you recognized your father, but Jake and Javy had already grabbed him by the arms and dragged him outside. You didn’t have the time to really think about it, Bradley taking you by the hand to sing with him at the piano. You laughed and followed him with the others in his Great balls of fire ’s reprise. It had been a great night.

The next day, at the first meeting, you thought your heart stopped when you saw that your instructor was actually Pete... and from the look on his face, he wasn't happy to see you there. Before the meeting was over, you heard his voice call your name ; it had a barely disguised note of anger. "Lieutenant Evans. You’ll stay after training, we'll have a word."

Bradley looked at you, concerned. He knew that you had never told Pete about the Navy, but he didn't know that even after nine years, your father was still unaware of your career. The others were confused and you could feel questioning gazes on you. Great way to begin this thing , you thought.

You were 27 and a very good pilot. An excellent one. One of the best. That's why you were here after all, wasn’t it ? You walked in your father’s footsteps, perhaps as talented as him at that age. But you were also as reckless as him, living up to your callsign. A tempest was never soft or delicate, neither were you. You had risked your life so many times in your five years of service. Tom often told you that you were just like your father and that it scared him. You didn’t think, you just did , you wanted to go faster, higher and further. Acting like the storm that you were, leaving your enemies confused by what had just happened. The adrenaline, the speed, the immensity of the sky, the feeling of freedom... you finally understood why Pete loved being in his plane so much.  You felt a little closer to him in those moments.

And yet, in nine years of absence, he had never once contacted you. You had disappeared one day and he hadn't even looked for you.  Your uncle had promised not to say anything about your career, but Pete hadn't even been interested in why or where you were going.

Seeing him angry made you furious . How could he have the nerve to be mad at you? 

After the training and the 200 pushups you had to do because - of course - you didn't beat your old man, you stayed on deck and waited for the others to leave. Bradley gave you a little squeeze on the shoulder, as if to give you strength, and reluctantly left. You heard Hondo telling Pete to calm himself before saying things he might regret out of anger.

Once again, the silence between you and your father was heavy. 

You couldn't take your eyes off him, waiting for him to finally speak. You could see that he was trying to stay calm. But you already felt like exploding . You could feel the reproaches, the so-called concern. You could feel that he wanted to push you away . 

"Y/N... how did you... you went to the Academy behind my back?!"

"Iceman," you replied simply, your eyes and voice cold. "And you never asked where I was either."

"You-?! I should have known, you lied to me." 

“It’s not lying if you’re not asked.” you mutter, “You taught me that.”

“Now’s not the time to play that game Y/N,” he snapped, "you can't be here."

"With all due respect, Captain, that's not your call."

You really tried to remain calm, knowing that the others must have been listening nearby - especially Jake. You didn't want to draw any more attention, but you felt your blood boiling under your skin.

"I will talk to Vice Admiral Simpson about this. I don't suppose anyone's made the connection between us. But now there's clearly a conflict of interest-"

"You have no right to take this mission away from me. It's not fair," you gasped, eyes wide.

"I am your father ! I can and will do it."

"What ?! No ! No, you can't ! 9 years of nothing but silence and now you're acting like a worried father ?!" you snapped, moving towards him and pointing an accusing finger. A nervous laugh escaped you and you sighed, pursing your lips. "Why do you always have to act like this ? You've never acted like a father to me, except to get in my way !"

"Get in your way ? No ! I care about you-"

"Really ?!" you cut him off, raising your voice, "Then where have you been for 9 years ?! What did Tom have to say to you that you weren't even lookin' for me ? Where was all this care when I left and you were not here ? Where were you huh ?! Where was all that concern ?!"

Pete's eyes widened and he searched for words. He should have known that he could not argue with your point so he just huffed then scolded. "I'm your captain, Lieutenant Evans ! Keep your voice down !"

"Oh, now it's not my father talking ?!" you couldn't hold back a nervous, fake laugh. "You see how you are ?! Always twisting things your way ?! Why are you avoiding that conversation ? Why are you running away again ?!" you’re almost screaming, inches close to him, eyes locked in his.

"Lieutenant Evans !" he growled. You grumbled and let out a heavy sight, calming yourself. You stepped back and clenched your fists along your body.

"Will that be all, Captain Mitchell ?"

You clenched your fists even harder, your knuckles turning white. You wanted to physically shake him to finally have answers. But you couldn’t, at least not here, not now.

"Y/N..." he huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Will that be all, Captain ?" you repeated, your voice slightly trembling. Tears of rage threatened to fall. You held them back, too proud to cry in front of him. Pete looked at you and sighed quietly. 

"You're dismissed Lieutenant Evans..."

You left the deck with a quick stride. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mixture of anger, frustration and sadness. Of course, the rest of the squadron was there, already clean and changed. Seeing the anger in your eyes, no one said a word, not even Hangman. He just stared at you, confused, as you slammed the door of the changing room. 

Later that evening, as the squadron relaxed at the bar, Jake couldn't help but bring up the earlier scene. 

"So our dear Tempest's dad is the famous Maverick?"

" He's not my father ," you muttered, finishing another beer. "My genitor maybe. But he's not my father."

"Why Evans if Mitchell's your old man?" Jake insisted. 

You could hear Bradley and Natasha telling him to drop it, but he kept coming back. You could feel your anger rising again.  You downed another beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table. 

"Tell me, Bagman , weren’t you taught to keep your mouth shut about things that don't concern you? I'm sure your mama taught you some manners, didn't she? Now shut up before I put my fist through your face," you growled, half drunk, half angry. Jake scoffed and held his hands up in defense while Bob stopped you from approaching him. Seeing your father enter the bar only made you feel worse. And it took all your patience not to slit Jake's throat on the spot as he continued his overly curious and unpleasant comments with his snide attitude.

Bradley went with you to get some fresh air as he wasn't too keen on seeing Pete either. When you arrived at the beach, a wave of sadness washed over you. You knew that your father would do everything in his power to get you out of this mission, but what was worse was that he didn't even try to talk to you, to reconnect. Your shoulders shook and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Only a sobbing hiccup betrayed you and Bradley rushed to take you in his arms. You felt the strength leave your legs and the two of you ended up sitting in the sand, crying your eyes out and clinging to Bradley. "I've got you... Let it all out..." he murmured between two kisses on the top of your head. His big hands gently stroked your back, letting go of all your pain. "It's okay, baby girl... it's okay..." 

Bradley and you practically lived together now. You’ve inherited your mom’s old house by the ocean and it’s confier than being on base. So those kinds of pet names were almost common now. But this time you didn’t blush at it, your emotions a mess.

You cried against him for a long time, as you hadn't done for many years. Rooster held you until you calmed down.  "It's not fair..." you whispered, sniffling. "He's going to take me off the mission..." 

"He won't be able to... Ice recommended you... there's nothing he can do about it..."

You shrugged, not really sure if Tom could help you. He was very ill and you didn't want to tire him out with your disagreements with your father.

“He’s just an old dickhead, don’t worry…” Bradley tried to cheer you up but you’re too distraught to play along. After a little less than an hour later, you find the force to get up and you head home with him. You fall asleep in the car and wake up the next morning in your bed.

There wasn't much time left before the mission. Training sessions were coming up and so were your fights with Pete. Cyclone hadn't pulled you out of the mission, but you weren't sure if it was to spite your father or because he felt you were capable of succeeding, just like your comrades.

Days passed at an alarming pace. The team slowly bonded through group exercises and moments of relaxation, especially with the game your father had invented: dogfight football.

You couldn't lie, it felt good to have such moments. But your father still didn't talk to you and you were still angry. You remained professional, but you couldn't stand his fatherly attitude towards you.

All your hopes of renewing real ties disappeared when you learned of Tom's death. You had seen him the day before and he had made you promise to try to take care of Pete. His funeral was one of the hardest moments of your life.

And because bad news never comes alone, the mission was moved up by a week. Pete was temporarily relieved of his duties, as Admiral Simpson still believed his plan of attack was doomed to failure. Of course, your father, in his legendary arrogance and cockiness, proved him wrong with an unauthorized flight. Hope rose in the team but it was still a very risky plan. 

Cyclone decided to make Pete team leader, and not surprisingly, he didn't choose you as his wingman. Part of you was angry because you felt you could do it, and another part of you was mortified when he announced that his choice would be Bradley. This mission was suicide, and you couldn't afford to lose them both. You couldn't afford to lose anyone in the squadron, but these two, it was just too much.

You didn't catch up with Pete as much as you wanted to, there were still so many questions left unanswered, so much time to make up for… You hadn't been able to make things right with your dad, you hadn't been able to tell him that you had this passion for aviation because of him. You hadn't been able to tell him that you regretted not telling him about the academy, that you regretted the 9 years of distance between you...

And you didn't spend enough time with Bradley.

Sure, you were always glued to each other in your free time, taking walks on the beach, talking and singing together at the Hard Deck piano, having movie nights... but you didn't want it to stop. Not after you'd half confessed how you felt about him after a few too many drinks, telling him that your 4-year-old declaration still stood. He laughed and told you that he hadn't forgotten either.

On the day of the mission, you barely managed to find your way to your father. "Captain?" your voice was louder than you had expected.

"Lieutenant Evans?"

"I... Before you go, I'd like to talk-"

"We'll talk when I get back."

"... Promise me you'll come back." 

For a moment, you were that five-year-old girl again, watching her father leave. Pete must have seen it in your eyes and climbed down from the cockpit to take you in his arms. "I promise I'll come back in one piece, kiddo..." You hugged him tightly and nodded in agreement. After a few seconds, you let go and let him settle down.  You ran to Bradley and made him promise you the same. He smiled confidently, even though you knew he was stressed. "Don't worry, we've got a Star Wars marathon to watch," he smiled before gently and discreetly kissing your forehead. You blushed and nodded, a worried little smile on your face. 

Reluctantly, you left the track and joined Jake. You were glued to your radios, following the progress of the mission.  Everything was going well until two enemy fighters spotted them. 

You stopped breathing. 

First they had Bradley in sight and locked on. 

The enemy fired. 

But your father took the brunt of the missiles and saved Rooster.

Your brain didn't know how to process all this information and shut down when you heard Bradley's decision to go after Pete before getting shot down too.

You don't remember much else. All you knew is that Jake had to leave in a hurry to find and rescue them. When they landed with that really out beat up F-14, you rushed out on deck to greet them, swallowing all your worry and anger at their unconscious behavior for the moment.

Once ashore, the entire crew decided to celebrate their success at Penny's Bar, dragging Pete with them. You stayed close to Bradley, as if afraid that it was all a dream and that he wasn't really there. He wouldn't let go of you either, his arm tight around you. You felt like a schoolgirl, it was stupidly comfortable. You looked at Pete, who was happily chatting with Penny and other members of the team. You didn't want to spoil the evening with a discussion that was out of your control…

Around one o'clock you went out for some fresh air, leaving Bradley to play with those who hadn't returned home yet ; Reuben, Natasha, Mickey and Javy.

As a cold shiver ran through you, you felt a heavy jacket on your shoulders. You immediately recognized the peculiar smell ; old whiskey mixed with motor oil and a hint of cologne.

" Dad ? "

"I thought you wanted to talk ?" he asked quietly, moving toward the beach. You nodded and took his pinky with yours like a child, searching for your words.

"I'm sorry..." you breathed, holding back your tears. "For going to the Academy behind your back and not telling you… not talking to you for almost ten years... I know that giving news is supposed to go both ways and all, but... but you weren't even there when I left... and I guess... I guess I resented you as much as I wanted you to be there, you know ?" you sniffed before continuing your monologue. "I just wanted you to see me . ‘Cause… it’s because of you I wanted to go down this road, you gave me this love for flight, for speed, for the sky. I... I just wanted you to be happy that we finally had something in common, but... but you had already pulled Bradley's papers, so I didn't think and I just did what seemed most logical and easiest. Take Mom's name, ask Ice not to tell you. I know it was stupid… but I also know it would have hurt too much if you had stopped me. And... And then no news for nine years... It hurt even more. The Academy and my first years of service weren't what I thought they would be... it was rough and sometimes I just… I just wanted to call you to come and pick me from there… but… but I wouldn't change that for the world. Because I’m still a Mitchell and Mitchells never quit right ?” You took a few seconds, your gaze meeting his, to see if he wanted to intervene but he didn’t. He just looked at you, taking all the information you gave him. You let out a shaky breath, playing with the sleeves of his jacket nervously. “And I know you must and may resent me for the rest of my life, but… but I just wanted you to be proud of me and... and for us to finally be a family." You bit your lip, trying to calm the flow of emotions that came through.

The sky began to rumble and your father remained silent after your speech. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as he couldn't find the words.

"Please, Dad, say something..." you sighed, your voice breaking.

The rain began to fall slowly and Pete's silence was too much for your heart to take. He couldn't even look at you anymore. You thought you could take it ; you were used to his silenced treatment, used to the fact that he couldn’t express his feelings. But right now, you needed him to speak, to ease your worries, to confront you.

"Dad... please... I'm begging you... talk to me…" you repeated desperately.

You broke down again and cried like a little girl in front of your mute father. You hated that he couldn't open up to you and you hated that he saw you so frail, so fragile.  Your sobs mingled with the rain, which grew heavier, the wind and waves making the silence deafening. You bit your lip and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, in vain.

"I know I'm not... I know you didn't plan… you didn’t want to have me with mom-"

"No, it's true... I never planned to be a father... The very idea of having children terrified me and still does," Pete interrupted you, "but... you're one of the most beautiful things, if not the most, that has ever happened to me. And I'm petrified of anything happening to you, I'm helpless on so many levels... and I... I didn't know how to be there when you needed me... I know I must have let you down a lot..." He sighed, catching his breath and holding back his own tears. "I thought... it would be best for both of us to let you have your freedom... but the weeks, months and years went by and I didn't have the guts to try to contact you. I was too ashamed... but Y/N, I never stopped loving you... you're my daughter... and even if you have my damn temper and your mom’s stubbornness," you couldn't hold back a little laugh and a slight smile despite your tears, which your father tenderly chased away with his thumb, "you'll always be my little girl, too eager to get on our little plane for a ride, passionate and fierce… I don’t resent you… I think I would have done it your way if my old man put me in this situation…" He allowed himself to cry as well as the two of you finally hugged each other, relieved of an enormous weight.

"I love you too, Dad... sorry for everything..." you mumbled against his shoulder.

"No, no… I’m sorry… It's my turn to apologize, sweetheart..."

The two of you lay embracing in the rain for a while, making up for years of distance in a few minutes. You were the first to let go. You once again took his hand like a child.

"We better get back before Hangman starts gossiping..."

"Or before Bradley starts worrying," Pete teased. You blushed and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? Like I haven't noticed the way you two look at each other. I'm not that blind kid!" He laughed “Ah… your mom and Carole would have been thrilled !”

You returned to the bar, soaking wet, chatting about anything and everything. Seeing you, Bradley's expression changed from worried to relieved, then back to worried as he noticed you were shivering a little from the cold. He politely left his conversation with Mickey to join you.

"Are you okay? Do you want to go home and change?"

"That would be a good idea..." you smiled at him. You had to admit you were exhausted from this rollercoaster of emotions. You said goodbye to the others from a distance, then to your father in a final hug, and followed Bradley back to his old blue Bronco. The two of you made your way to your small house. 

Bradley was a good roommate. You each had your own room, but you often fell asleep together in front of the TV or on one of your beds after long late-night discussions. You liked the routine you created. And you hoped with all your might that nothing would change. But your feelings for him were becoming more and more obvious in your mind and heart. You wondered how much longer you could hide it.

Seeing you so silent, Bradley placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you all right, lil’ Tempest?" 

His eyes never left the road as his thumb traced small circles on your jeans. A shiver ran through your entire body and you wished this contact would never end.

"Everything's fine Roo... don't worry..."

"Okay..."

He squeezed your knee again and left his hand on your thigh. The warmth of his palm made you shiver and you placed your hand on top of his shyly. Once again, you felt like a teenager. It was stupid.

The ride home was rather quiet, in a comforting way, Bradley driving carefully in the pouring rain and humming the song that passed on the radio. When he parked, you stayed in the car for a moment. You sensed that he had something he wanted to say to you, and he sensed the same thing on your side. After a few minutes of silence and shy glances, he smiled at you, got out of the car, and you followed. He ran to unlock the door and waited for you under the porch.

You wanted to run as well, but your legs felt heavy. That's when your anxiety decided to take over. The stress and worry of the past few days were finally catching up to you. As you saw Bradley step out into the rain with a worried expression, the conversation on the radio played in your head. Your father's F-18 had exploded, and Bradley was on his way to pick him up. And now it was his turn to go down. A huge pressure on your chest stopped you from breathing and new tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn't move, pinned to the pavement. Silent sobs shook you as your vision blurred. You couldn't see or hear Bradley any more. You felt so alone, so cold. Your panic attack froze you under the heavy rain and you couldn't get out of it. You couldn't hear anything except the intense ringing in your ear. You wanted to throw up. The world spun around you as your mind screamed what the communications officer had said earlier, "Maverick's down ! Rooster's down !" 

They were dead. 

For the long forty minutes or so that followed, they were dead .  And you were stuck in that loop. One minute everything was fine, the mission was a complete success. The next, the last two most important people in your life were dead. The ground began to feel strangely unstable as you fought harder to breathe. Eventually your legs gave out and you felt yourself fall, but you didn't hit the ground. You felt two arms around you, holding you securely but not too tightly, then lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. The buzzing in your ears slowly faded away and you didn't feel the rain on your skin anymore. You gasped for air when you finally heard Breadley call your name, concern in his voice. As you raised your eyes to look at him, a sudden relief washed over you and you couldn't help but sob again.

He was home. You were home. With him.

"What's going on, Y/N? Hey... Breathe... breathe and talk to me..." he said quietly.

"I thought... I thought you and Dad... you... you were dead..." you managed to say between sobbing hiccups. You clung to his shirt, afraid he would fade away. He smiled a little and kissed the top of your head as he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands. Then he took your hands and laid them flat on his heart. You could feel it beating at a regular pace.

"I'm here. I’m okay. You're okay. I'm very much alive, Mav is too, and you're stuck with me, with us, little Tempest..."

"Yeah ? Promise ?" you sniffed, your lower lip still trembling.

"Yeah... Promise." he smiled at you again then hugged you tightly. 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the bristles of his mustache tickling you a little. One of your hands reached up to his neck, your fingers brushing his little hair. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, absorbing each other's presence. You felt so relaxed in his arms, as if you belonged there. Your heart fluttered as you heard him hum one of your favorite songs and then felt him beginning to slow dance with you, taking you peacefully to the bathroom.  You were too exhausted and shaken from your panic attack to even ask him what he was doing. You just obliged and listened to him, hypnotized. He declared that you needed a long relaxing bath and in the meantime he would order pizza. He helped you take off your shoes and socks, then your hoodie. He kissed your forehead and let you finish undressing, leaving the bathroom to give you some privacy. 

You couldn’t stay too long in the bath, your mind being too loud. You knew you would break down again if you weren’t close to him .  Bradley made you feel safe, secure, grounded. That was what you needed to relax. You were so used to being alone before, used to the silence, the empty rooms. But since he decided to kind of move in with you, you couldn’t bear the loneliness. The house was so warm now, so welcoming and comfy.

As you crossed his room after you’ve washed, you noticed that old hoodie you bought him one Christmas when you were in naval school. It’s a silly one, the hood designed to look like a rooster. An amused sigh escaped you and you took it to wear. It was still as soft and comfy as the day you bought it. 

“Stealing my clothes I see ?” he chuckled when you joined him in the kitchen.

“Stealing my beers I see ?” you teased him back, pointing at the bottle in his hand, “I thought cranberry beers were for chicks ?” 

“Mama Carole didn’t raise me to be picky” He scoffed in défense, with a smirk.

“Oh I know she didn’t. And my mama didn’t raise me to steal, I’m just borrowing that hoodie.” you smiled, putting the hood on. “Look, we’re twins now, Rooster !”

The both of you laughed at that stupid joke. He then smiled at you and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Feeling better sweets ?”

“Yeah… sorry about that I… I think these past days were a bit too much for my brain…”

“Don’t be sorry… it’s normal to break sometimes… everyone does.” 

You hummed and nodded, but before you could talk, the doorbell rang. “Must be the pizzas ! Get yourself comfortable on the couch and choose a movie Y/N, I’ll be right back !” He kissed your cheek, close to your lips - too close - and ran to the door. You stood there for a moment, cheeks and heart warming up, before doing what he asked you.  Once again, you felt like a schoolgirl at her first sleepover with her crush. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your face turning a bit red. 

You should tell him.  But you risked losing that friendship you had. And at the same time, you wanted more than that. You wanted to feel his arms around you, his lips - oh those lips - on you, to wake up next to him each and every morning in your bed… You fantasized about a life with him for a minute, not noticing him getting back with the food. You jumped slightly when he waved his hand in front of your eyes to snap you out of your reverie. Your gaze locked with his as he asked if everything was all right.

"Yes, yes... I was just lost in thought..." you smiled shyly, your cheeks flushed, letting him settle in beside you. He took the plaid to cover both of you, then put his arm around your shoulders.

"And what were you thinking about? Or who?" He teased.

"About us, actually..."

"Us?" He said, a little surprised.

Your cheeks were crimson. You'd said too much already. You couldn't run anymore. You just nodded, not daring to meet his gaze.  You felt him come closer and turn a little towards you after a few seconds of silence.

"Me too, I have to admit..." 

"Really?" you almost whispered, looking up at him. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah... to tell you the truth, I like it here, but... I don't want to be just another roommate anymore. We're pretty similar in a lot of things, Phoenix even says we look like an old married couple that's always jammed together." You chuckled a little but couldn't help but agree. Bradley smiled a little before continuing, a little nervously. "And... the crash, almost getting killed... It made me realize a lot of things... like the fact that I didn't want to lose you. And that... maybe... the fact that I felt so comfortable with you meant... meant more than friendship..."

Your heart raced in your chest. Was he going to confess what you were thinking? You bit the inside of your cheek to prove to yourself that you weren't dreaming, and before he could continue, you pulled him by his collar and crushed your lips against his. The kiss was desperate, as if you needed it to keep on living. Bradley didn't waste a second in responding, one of his hands sliding up your cheek and the other down your back to press you against him. You would have liked that moment to last forever, but the lack of air forced you to pull away a little. He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a small laugh. "I guess it's mutual, then?"

"You're a little genius aren’t you ?" You couldn't help but tease him before kissing him again.

You felt so good against him, kiss after kiss. You felt complete, soothed. 

And you could easily get used to it .

[devondespresso]

Just Let Me Come Home

T | 2850 words | Stomarol, post s2, pre-relationship | also on ao3 | cw: very minor implied child neglect

Gift for @momotonescreaming Happy very late Birthday Momo!!! STWG prompt: Home

Thank you so much to @pearynice for betaing!!

Hawkins’ sun sets early in November.

When school starts tapering off into winter break, so does the light each day, the world getting darker until it looks like midnight at six in the afternoon and no one can see Steve riding shotgun in the police chief's car.

It’s been a hell of a week. Or, more accurately, one hellish night with consequences bleeding into the days after, until the bruising on Steve’s face starts fading into uglier muddier colors and Hopper decides he’s been waiting in the hospital long enough, telling him to start the mental list for what he’ll pack in his overnight bag.

Steve looks out the window as Hop drives, letting the cold glass ice the headache pressing against his forehead, watching the lamplit storefronts as they drive, staring out as the occasional passerby glances over the car, unseeing, before turning back to whatever they were doing before.

It’s dark. They can’t see much, and they don’t really need to. They don’t really care.

Which makes it awfully convenient that hell keeps coming to Hawkins just after dark. It brings a lot less questions that he can’t answer, about nausea and terror that he can’t explain, that he wouldn’t know how to even if he could. 

It’s convenient. Gives Steve less people to worry about, less names to remember when things go bump in the night.

Hop drives past the end of Main street, the end of paved sidewalks and streetlights. He stops at a four-way to let another car turn, then takes a left down a darker road.

House lights take the place of street lamps, windows flaunting squares of lustrous orange light in every house they pass. The distance makes the light hazier, easier on the ache behind his eyes.

The street is familiar, more than just small-town same-roads familiar. It becomes depressingly familiar as the Perkins' house appears ahead, that feeling more of an indicator than the house’s appearance right now. Light fills almost every damn window, except for Carol’s bedroom upstairs.

Her powder blue convertible is missing from the driveway, too, and its absence leaves the whole house sickeningly monochrome.

It's probably in Tommy's driveway. He could check to be sure, they’ll pass by it in a block or two.

As quick as it appeared, Carol’s house disappears again, passing behind them just like every other house on the block.

Steve closes his eyes.

Keeps them closed, until the car slows drastically but doesn't feel the turn into the driveway.

Steve opens his eyes, glances towards Hopper and finds him looking out into the dark ahead, warily. Steve follows his gaze, and his stomach turns.

There’s a powder blue convertible stalling in front of his house—roof uncharacteristically up and hiding the interior—haphazardly parked half off the road. The people in the front seat are arguing, and there’s smoke billowing out the back still like they’re ready to take off at any second.

Hop rolls closer, headlights lighting up everything. Steve leans forward to get a better look, and Tommy’s face turns around in the driver’s seat to look back at them.

Tommy’s eyes pass over Steve, unseeing, then skipping by Hop too as he just sees a cop car and panics. He gets ready to drive off, only to be stopped by Carol’s hand from the passenger’s seat. 

It's uncomfortable just looking at them. Tommy is awkwardly crammed into Carol’s front seat like he’s too big for it—maybe because he is, maybe it's still adjusted for Carol—and Carol looks like she's fighting the seatbelt that's keeping her from jumping across the dash and taking the wheel herself. 

And what’s worse, they’re sticking with it. They’re parked on the side of the road and yet neither get out to switch seats and go back to what they're used to.

Hop shifts the car into park, and Steve glances over to find Hopper already looking at him, eyebrows raised and quietly asking. 

Steve turns back to the car in front of them for a second. Carol glances back from her spot in the passenger’s seat too, then turns to her real objective of saying something to Tommy. Something Tommy, apparently, doesn’t want to hear. Has already heard several times, if the overplayed frustration is anything to go by.

Steve sighs.

“I’ve got it.” Steve mutters, and ducks down to find his keys in his bag.

Hopper doesn’t say anything and goes back to eyeing Carol's car, but when Steve sits back up he shoots him another uncertain look.

“You’ll know if I change my mind.” Steve says, and gets out of the car.

The headlights sting his eyes even from behind so Steve squints and turns his head away from them, watches his step and shoves his keys into his pockets as he walks over. A car door in front of him opens, letting the tail end of a very annoyed “Carol!” slip out before it slams shut again and the familiar clacking of boots makes its way over to him. 

Steve looks up properly and Carol stops, squinting from the headlights, staring at the bruising on his face openly, shock softening a very reassuring grimace. Steve closes the last bit of distance so he doesn't have to be loud, doesn’t make this any bigger than it has to be.

“Can this happen at literally any other time?” 

Carol stares at the worst spots of his face for another second, trying to juggle new thoughts with whatever the hell she was planning to say, but a voice from the other side of her car beats her to it.

“Steve?”

He and Carol both look over at Tommy, standing from the driver's seat to get a better look over the hood of the car, equally taken aback, if only for a second.

Tommy jogs over—that slowed down jog to keep from looking too uncool—and stops, a little further away than Carol is, keeping a cold distance. It nicks an old nerve, one he's used to having hit, but now it’s fanning a bitter flame that he’s happy to indulge.

“What the hell happened to you?” Tommy says.

“Why do you care?”

“Steve.” Carol snaps at him.

“No, actually, what are either of you even doing here?”

“Looking for you, asshole.” Carol says, and takes barely a step forward. 

“Carol dragged me with her.” Tommy says, with that light, cocky tone he’d use in the hallways or on the court or in the locker room, where everythings a goddamn joke.

“Tommy.” Carol hisses, hitting Tommy’s arm and Tommy scowls at her.

“Well that makes this easy then.” Steve says, letting bored disdain leak out with every breath. He directs an extra bit of bitterness Tommy’s way, then turns back towards his house.

“Steve–” 

Tommy grabs his arm. Reaches out and grabs for him. 

Steve turns back and looks down at Tommy’s hand on his forearm, pointedly, then back up at Tommy. Challenging, to let Tommy know he’s doing it—reaching out and touching another boy—and waits for Tommy to let go or pretend it’s more aggressive than he meant it.

Tommy’s hand slips away and falls to the side.

“Look, man,” Tommy starts, “We heard about Wheeler–”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve says, and even though his voice wavers Steve tries to make it harsh, be cold and detached like he would be if they were in the halls right now. “You just know everything there is to know about Nancy Wheeler these days.”

Carol makes a face at him and Tommy scowls again, and it feels like so much, feels familiar and nauseating, soothing and insufferable.

“Man, I’m fucking trying, alri–”

“To do what?”

Tommy pauses, face still scowling but his eyes searching, confused.

“What are you trying to do?” Steve asks again.

Tommy looks away, shoves his hands into his jacket pocket. “Fucking talk, man, what…” Tommy smiles, shoots him a look of casual apathy, doing it on purpose now. “What does it look like I’m doin’.”

Steve tamps down a curled lip, keeping mostly neutral as he stares at Tommy. Making a show of listening even after he stopped talking, waiting for either another deflection or a real answer.

It takes Tommy a good few seconds to realize Steve isn’t planning on playing along. He connects the dots and drops the casual act, apathy hardening into irritation, and refuses to say anything.

Steve glances over to Carol, standing off to the side and mostly watching Tommy. She catches Steve’s eye, but with nothing written on her face. 

She looks at Tommy again but doesn’t try to intervene, doesn’t try to say anything.

Steve turns again quietly, away from the cars and headlights, and starts up his driveway. Gets a little ways away before Tommy does anything about it.

“Steve, fucking– hold on!” 

Steve turns before Tommy can reach him, catching him off guard, so instead of grabbing Steve’s arm Tommy gestures around with that energy, pointing to him and Carol and right at Steve’s chest.  

“We came out here because it was always the three of us, always! You, me, and Carol. And then you ran away, you keep fucking off to do your own thing like neither of us ever mattered.”

“So you came here to yell at me.” 

“I came here because you sure as hell weren’t coming back! You were getting off on ‘caring about other people’ but you don’t give two shits about us!”

Tommy lets the words hit, then loses steam with a loaded huff. He stares Steve down like Steve’s dragging the word out of him, like Steve’s the one forcing this conversation to happen.

“And you’re happier now.” 

Tommy looks sick with it, keeps channeling anger over the sickness and it’s working, he’s yelling, but Steve can’t stop seeing what’s under there. 

“But we still give a shit about you, and Carol dragged both our asses over here cause she’s the only one with enough balls to admit it.”

Tommy’s hand moves again, barely a reach that’s pulled back, a small reflex that Tommy probably doesn't notice, but Steve does, only because he’s looking for it.

A lump forms and clogs Steve’s throat—and Tommy sees it, something of it because he lets the anger melt out, smooths it down a little until–

“You tell me to fuck off and I’ll do it, but you’re going to let me fucking try first.”

–until he just looks like Tommy again.

Steve crashes forward and pulls Tommy in tight for a hug. Wraps his arms around him, ducks his face down into Tommy’s shoulder, half for himself, half as a final test, to see if Tommy would let him– let himself give as much of a shit as he used to.

Tommy jumps but grabs onto him with that reflex, wraps his arms around Steve's back and holds him just as tight, maybe tighter. Tears well up in Steve’s eyes, the treacherous kind that aren’t asking if or when they could fall, so Steve buries them in the collar of Tommy's shirt.

Tommy laughs a little, light with surprise and wonder and fucking joy, rumbling soothingly from his chest, from his throat right by Steve’s ear, and it makes Steve smile, too. Smiling so wide, even as tears fall freely and he silently chokes on his relief.

Tommy presses his face, too, into Steve’s shoulder, not quite tall enough to tuck his chin over. He presses his smile into the collar of Steve’s shirt and leans his head against Steve’s, so much softer, so much more confident, and more truly at ease than Steve’s seen him before.

Steve takes in a deep breath, slow and long so it feels like enough, and revels in the steadiness,  the warmth around him. And for the first time in a while, it’s easier to keep himself upright.

Another hand settles gently on his shoulder, light enough that it doesn’t hurt the bruises that have to be somewhere around there.

Steve pulls back, just enough to stand up straight and see Carol keeping her hand on Steve’s shoulder, looking slightly worried and only getting worse when he meets her eyes.

Steve shakes his head, wipes the wetness from his eyes, cringing when he presses against bruises, just making more tears fall.

Steve swallows hard and takes a deep breath again.

“I missed you guys, too.”

Carol moves fast, pulls him into her own tight hug immediately, squeezes a choked sob out of him instead of words. He hugs her back tightly, buries the lower half of his face in her hair, and gets a strong whiff of Farrah Fawcett hairspray.

Carol gives him one more squeeze before her grip mellows out into something gentler, decidedly gentle, and just as steady. And she stays there, face resting on his shirt, right over his heart like it's just as much for her as it is for him. His throat clogs up again, and Steve doesn't think he’s ever been happier.

After a moment or so, Carol mutters something that Steve doesn’t catch.

“What?” Tommy asks before Steve can.

Carol huffs with so much of her signature annoyance that Steve can't help but snort to himself too. She moves back but with an arm still tucked around Steve, shoots him a quick glare that doesn’t hide any of her fondness—if she was even trying to hide it—and turns to Tommy to enunciate everything at him.

“I said, it took you two long enough.”

 Tommy rolls his eyes immediately, like he’s heard something like this a million times before.

“Yeah, thanks for helping, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome.” Carol says, all over-innocent and cheery and it makes Tommy roll his eyes harder, “You two needed someone sensible around. All this emotional constipation really isn't a great look.”

Steve wrinkles his nose at the word choice while Tommy scoffs.

“Yeah, you’re real mature, like you didn’t bite Nichole Turner’s head off for finding that old swim team hoodie you won’t get rid of.”

“Tommy!”

Carol hits Tommy’s arm again, betrayed and annoyed but not trying to deny it.

“You kept that?”

Carol glances over before resolutely avoiding eye contact and shrugs, but doesn’t refute it.

“Awww Caroooool,” he says, drawing the words out comically, putting an arm around her, “You missed—” 

“It’s a sweatshirt.”

“You missed meeeee.” He sings and hugs her again, playing up the schmaltzy sweet flair.

“You two are such—” she starts, then sighs heavily before giving up, dropping her head to lean into Steve’s hug.

Steve smiles and looks back over to Tommy—to give Carol her moment to recover—and catches a soft smile on his face, too.

Tommy’s eyes flick up to meet Steve’s and he pauses like he knows he’s been caught.

“So…” Steve starts.

“Yeah.” Tommy says, landing a hand on his shoulder, casual except for how Tommy keeps it there, normal except for how it’s making Steve melt. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. I'm gonna head inside—”

“And find a bag of peas or something,” Carol interrupts, pulling away to give Steve another look, “I mean, like, in a nice way–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“You look like you’ve been hit by a car.”

“Yeah.” he laughs.

“Did you?”

“No, no…” Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s uh… long story.”

Carol raises an eyebrow, and when Steve turns to Tommy instead he finds him also giving Steve a searching look. Steve smiles a little, enjoying the care despite the context and the subjects he has to breach at some point—god especially when it comes to school again, basketball’s about to be a fucking mess—

“I’ll tell you guys later. Promise.” He says and he means it, even if he can only throw together some half baked explanation—maybe blame a little more on Hargrove than he really needs to—he wants them around enough to know. And also, maybe selfishly, wants them around enough to know when he’s lying, to know when there’s things he won’t say.

But for now, Tommy and Carol both accept the promise for later. And Steve nods over towards the front door.

Carol takes the silent invitation immediately, heads up the dark driveway and to the front of the house with Steve and Tommy not far behind her.

Carol waits by the steps for them as they catch up and lets Steve go ahead to the door, whispering something cheeky and teasing to Tommy that catches him off guard, makes him stutter for a second before muttering something snippy back.

Steve bites back a laugh and turns to the door. He finds his keys in his pocket and picks out the house key smoothly as Tommy and Carol linger behind him, their presence and their voices calming something in him, making the gaping void behind them feel less vast, less pressing.

He clicks the lock and opens the door wide and it’s somehow darker than what they’re already standing in.

Steve wanders in blindly, and Tommy and Carol follow right behind.

[afewproblems]

98 for Robin?

98. "Hold me back!"

Ahhh thank you very much for this! I'm sorry it was so late nonny!

This is taking place in the same universe as this piece which you can also read on AO3

***

"I swear to God" Robin moans as she smacks her head onto the counter, "I will walk into traffic if I have to explain the plot of Labyrinth one more time". 

Steve puts the money from the recent rental into the till and shrugs, "I dunno Birdy, I liked your take on it this time". 

She snorts, finally cracking a grin, "you just liked the look on her face when I talked about how half the movie is Bowie's package and the other half is Muppets". 

"Potato, Tomato," Steve hums, closing the till with a soft snick.

For a Saturday opening shift it had been strangely slow. 

They had their usual guests during the day, screaming children with parents who were clearly at the end of their tether. Irritating teens who stole as many snacks as their thieving little backpacks could handle. Movie nerds who asked for as many titles as they could think of before settling on something so obscure there was no way they carried it -or on the off chance Family Video did have it in their inventory, it was already checked out. 

However, with half an hour until Keith was set to arrive for the closing shift, the front door bell jingled harshly to announce a new presence in the store and in an instant Robin’s stomach falls into her shoes. 

Because Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins have just walked in. 

Robin has dealt with assholes from highschool before, she had to wear a sailor outfit with shorts for her last job for fucks sake, but she’s also never gotten into a physical fight with any schmucks from her forth period algebra class. 

Steve on the other hand…

He’s on the other side of the counter all of a sudden, standing in between her and Tommy.

His expression seems neutral, but Robin can read the line of tension in his shoulders as Carol whispers something into Tommy’s ear.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says, her voice clipped and stony, "it's two for one Saturday and all the sections are labeled so you should be able to get in and get out". 

"Come on, we just got here," Tommy scoffs, he's glaring openly at Steve while Carol seems to be scanning Robin, watching her carefully.

"Boy, you really do have a type huh Stevie," Carol sneers from Tommy's side, "at least this one plays an instrument, she's just as stuck up as Wheeler though from what I remember".

"If you guys don't want to rent anything, then leave," Steve says slowly, deliberately with wary hostility.

"You're suddenly so fucking tough huh?" Tommy scoffs, stepping closer towards Steve.

Carol moves with him but her eyes widen slightly in surprise, she grabs at his arm and pulls just slightly, "Tommy--"

"I'm not going to fight you man," Steve sighs, running a hand over his face and into his hair, Robin watches as his shoulders droop ever so slightly.

She knows Steve has complicated feelings about his former friends, they'd known one another for such a long time and those old feelings don't just disappear.

He'd been hurt to see Tommy and Carol gravitate towards Billy so easily. To egg him on as he bullied Steve their senior year, the tables turned so suddenly it was like whiplash.

Well, Steve may feel conflicted about his old shithead friends, but Robin has no such compunction.

"He won't but I will," Robin blurts out, the words run away from her faster than she can even catch up to them.

Steve closes his eyes, his expression pained while Tommy and Carol both turn to her with equal looks of surprise. 

Huh, it's the first time in her life she's ever seen Carol Perkins speechless and it's glorious. 

Robin lets the thrill of it carry her forward until she's stepped around the counter to stand beside Steve.

“Yeah, Steve's gonna have to hold me back,” Robin snarls as she grabs Steve’s hand and places it on her own shoulder. 

Steve gives her a withering look as he mimes pulling a zipper over his own mouth.

"You let your bitch off her leash huh Harrington?" Tommy says with a lecherous grin as he stares at them both.

He lets out two barks and laughs again as he swings an arm around Carol's shoulder, her tinkling laugh joins his own and Robin can't believe this is even happening. Did she hit her head getting out of Steve's car this morning?

Fuck this.

"Funny stuff Hagan," Robin bites out, "your ass must be pretty jealous of your mouth for all the nasty shit it gets to spew in public".

"What did you just say to me?" Tommy snarls as he stomps closer, his ears have turned a ruddy pink that matches the flush crawling up his neck.

Carol tries to reach for his arm, whispering, "just drop it Tommy, let's go," but he wrenches away from her and continues forward, only stopping as a flat palm catches him in the chest.

Steve stands his ground in front of Tommy, looking down his nose with cold eyes. 

Steve told her about the last time he and Tommy had squared off. It was just before Robin spotted Steve outside the corner store while she waited for her mother to pay for their things, the aftermath that she hadn't thought much of at the time, but now…

Steve walks forward, using his height to his advantage to tower imposingly over Tommy, his face twisted into a vicious snarl that Robin has only seen one other time, underneath Starcourt.

"Get out, I don't want to tell you again Tommy," Steve says lowly under his breath, just loud enough that Robin has to strain to hear him. 

Tommy's eyes narrow as his mouth pulls into a sneer, "and what are you gonna do about it, you're not scary Harrington," he grins despite taking a step back as Steve continues forward, pushing them towards the front door. 

"I don't have to be scary, but I do have an in with your drug dealer and I can make it impossible for you to score for as long as you live in this godforsaken shithole". 

"You're bluffing".

"Try me," Steve whispers just as the bell dings again at the front of the store. Tommy doesn't look away from Steve even as Carol exclaims a small, 'oh', beside him.

Robin smirks and leans back against the counter, raising her hand in an enthusiastic wave towards the entrance, "hey Eddie!"

Tommy curses under his breath and wrenches himself away from Steve, just in time to see the murderous expression on Eddie's face. 

Carol takes the opportunity to grab at the sleeve of Tommy's shirt and drag him the last few steps away towards the door, they give Eddie a wide berth as they pass. 

Tommy glares at Steve and Robin the entire way, muttering curses under his breath as Robin blows them a kiss with her middle finger.

The bell jingles again as the door swings open and falls gently closed, leaving them in an uneasy silence. 

"You guys okay?" Eddie says quietly after a beat, he steps towards Steve, his brow pinched with concern.

Steve nods silently before turning towards Robin. She expects a lecture from the frown on his face but blinks in surprise as Steve pulls her into a tight hug.

"Don't do that again," he mumbles into her hair, she opens her mouth to speak, to insist that she doesn't need a babysitter like his gaggle of children.

"I know it's just Tommy," Steve breathes out as though reading her mind, "but I don't think I could handle it if something happened to you Robin, I mean it". 

And all at once the fight drains out of her as Robin wonders just how she wound up with someone like Steve Harrington in her corner. 

"I wasn't going to let them talk shit," she huffs, despite pressing even closer, she feels his head shake against her own.

"I can take a hit and I'm not going to let some asshole have a chance to go after you too," he says sharply. 

Robin rolls her eyes and steps back just enough to look him in the eyes, "remember what your annoying child friend said, if you die, I die".

She shrugs at the incredulous expression on his face, "what? Smartest thing that kid has ever said". 

"You're ridiculous," Steve whispers and there's so much warm affection in his voice as he squeezes her once more, that Robin has to bury her face in his shoulder to hide the sudden shine in her eyes.

Eddie seems to take this as his cue to move forward and let his hand rest on Steve's lower back, the pinched look fading slightly as he smiles at Robin. 

"Well, my original plan was to take Stevie here, out after his shift, buuut I'm thinking the three of us are in need of a night on the town, what do you say Buckaroo?" Eddie asks with a waggles of his eyebrows and a wide grin. 

"I'll come if you never call me that again," Robin says with as much of a straight face as she can muster.

Steve barks out a laugh as he leans into Eddie's side, "oh you've done it now Buckaroo". 

Robin squawks and flaps her hands at Steve until he ducks away behind Eddie who immediately shields his face with his hands. 

"You think way too highly of me if you think that's where I'm aiming," Robin says dryly, snorting as Eddie gasps and lifts a leg for further protection, prompting them both to collapse into a fit of giggles while Steve watches fondly.

They all eventually relax, falling into an easy conversation as Steve and Robin finish up the last of the morning duties. The tension from earlier fading away as Eddie sits on the counter top, with his eyes on the door, watching out, just in case.

[radiantdanvers]

POV: you're camera roll if you're dating Carol Danvers: Part 2

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Lucie is cold, and bleeding, and the monster is gone but there is nothing she can do. Adrenaline keeps her away but, as soon as it crashes, she knows she will succumb.

To the cold, to the blood loss, to the failure.

She is dying alone, and it is meaningless. Carol will throw Emi to the monster again, Benito will not care, Diego and Luis and Jeffery are too far away to save her… The monster… Oh, god, the monster - it is going to take them, too. She will die alone and for nothing and soon Diego and Emi and all of them will join her too.

"Lucie?"

She thinks, on the breeze, she might hear someone call her name. It is a dying hallucination - it must be.

"Lucie!"

Maybe whatever god exists has granted her mercy, letting her hallucinate Diego one last time. Even if Diego is crying… But of course he is, because he and everyone else is about to die.

"Meu Deus, Lucie…" she can almost smell him. "Wait. Jeffrey! Jeffrey, help, she's still alive!"

Not for long, though; she knows it will not be long. The adrenaline keeping her heart going is leaking out of her wounds and into the snow. The pain makes her delirious, makes her see things she does not.

Lets her feel a warm hand on her cheek and harsh ones on her chest, something tight against her leg. She is in pain, she is in agony, and her mind has tricked her into not being alone.

"Lucie, can you hear us? Lucie!"

But he's only a hallucination, and Lucie does not want to stay.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much… She's already failed, why won't it just let the pain end? Why won't it leave her be?

/The ice/ says a voice that sounds suspiciously like Diego. /People bleed slower in the cold./

Lucie doesn't think she wants to bleed slower - she wants to bleed fast, so she can die, so she can finally put an end to the pain.

For a moment she thinks she gets it, but then there is another sharp pain that shakes her core. Reality comes in flashes, barely understood; a blue coat, lights, yelling- She tries to call to the voices, to ask for Emi. Someone terrified slams a hand over her mouth, and she forgets to breathe.

A crackling radio, hysteria, something heavy pressed against her. She doesn't understand, she hurts and she hurts and its no longer cold but why hasn't she died, why won't the world just let her die and for a while the world fades out, but then there's Emi screaming her name and Diego stroking hair from her face and Benito throwing a fit over the amount of blood on her coat as he pulls out a needle and thread, and Lucie almost wishes it was real.

It isn't real, it isn't, the monster took her - she's a dead woman… not walking, but lying.

There's arguing all around her. There's screaming and yelling and she grabs the nearest trouser leg to try get attention.

It's Diego - ways Diego - who answers.

"Lucie?" He drops to his knees beside her, voice caught in a sob. "Lucie, Lucie, you're okay, we've got you, you're okay, what do you need?"

The words blur and she doesn't quite understand, especially when they're not in her own French.

Its hard, its impossible, but she must - she shakily presses a finger to her lips and pretends she cannot taste the blood.

It takes Diego a moment, before he turns and does his best to yell "I'll do it just be quiet!"

Lucie doesn't want Diego to leave, but he does, and she thinks, maybe, that dying alone might be kinder than hallucinations who abandon her.

They don't, however; Jeffrey takes the radio and Luis watches Mikael, and Emi is still clinging to her hand. Benito's hand is also taken by the girl, and his free one pokes bandages around her chest.

Lucie screams, and the world is black, and she thinks - finally!

But then reality crashes back, and she's being carried in arms she doesn't understand, and the carry must be real for she screams as footsteps shake her, but perhaps it is the monster back again, here again, unsatisfied with his larder and so moving her instead.

The jolting, the pain, being passed to someone - more yelling. So much more yelling, and agony as things are pressed to her wounds and her face and perhaps the monster means to smother her, but at least it means it is not touching the others.

The others, the others, who should not be here - who need to run and run and run and never look back because they are being chased and chased and don't they know they're all dead, all dead, all so so dead, but they //need. To. Run.//

A prick on her arm, and another scream - even if she is a failure, maybe she can bait the monster away and -

And Diego is there, and Emi, and Luis, and Jeffrey, and Benito… No Carol, no Mikael, and Lucie isn't sure that she cares.

There's more yelling and more loud noises, and the haze that is Lucie understands none of it, and the longer it goes on the more the haze grows.

Lucie doesn't remember the rest of it, just Diego and Emi sobbing, and that, perhaps, is how it always should have ended anyway.

---

Lucie wakes in a bed, with beeping all around. Diego is right there, at her side, more bandage than man but grasping her hand none the less. It is bright, too bright, but the world is only what it is.

Diego seems asleep, clutching her hand. Looking… Jeffrey lies in the next bed, Luis passed out on the floor between them.

And Lucie…

Lucie is covered in wires, and pain, and a blur, but she knows where she must be. She's… not dead? And Diego is hurt, but right here! They're safe, they're safe, they're safe, but where's Emi?

The panic comes back as soon as the thought occurs, dulled by the painkillers but still impossible to ignore. She wants to wreathe, to run, to find the girl and they need to get away before it comes back and-!

The beeping gets louder.

A doctor - not Bonito, someone she has never seen before - appears. He asks her things and she thinks she answers, he adjusts wires and makes notes and she doesn't understand. Diego is woken up - he looks exhausted - and clings to her hands, making her promises she doesn't think he can keep, as she panics.

When the doctor leaves, he pulls her into a hug, and sobs into her hair.

"Where's little brat?" she asks, shaking in his hold. "Where are we? What- I was dead, what happened?"

Diego holds her tighter, tucking her close and it isn't /safe/ but its /safer/.

"Benito took her to get food," he says. "It's okay, you're okay, we found you - Jeffrey and I got the bleeding under control, and Luis carried you back. Its… Its bad, but its okay! You're going to be okay."

With a shaking hand she touches one of the bandages on Diego's face.

"There were more infected," he takes her hand from his face, and gently holds it in his own. "It's okay, we got away. Well… Mikael and Carol didn't, but…"

"Fuck them," she whispers. "Fuck them both, fuck all of them." "Yeah," Diego agrees. "Even Jeffrey agreed to shoot them by the end."

Lucie feels light, feels giddy. The laugh bubbles forth, first a giggle, then a shriek, as stress pours from her soul into the void. "I was dying," she laughs. "I- I- I was dying, and Carol was going to kill Emi, and- and-"

The laughter gives way to sobs, and a door slams open. In marches the little brat herself, eyes wide and shaken as she clutches Benito with one hand, and a milkshake in the other. Benito seems much more relaxed, but for the glasses that hide his eyes - there's a large bag of MacDonalds over his elbow, and he tosses it at Diego.

"Lucie!" he calls. "See, Diego, I told you she'd live."

Diego flips him off, and leans over to wake Luis up.

Lucie is quickly distracted by Emi throwing herself on the bed, the girl scrambling desperately until she's pressed against Lucie and gripping her tight. Lucie surpressed the yells, the pain it causes, and hugs her back.

"You okay, little brat?" Lucie tries to soften her voice. "Did the dumb dumb doctor look after you?"

"Don't you dare do that again!" Emi screeches. "You're not- Dad's- you're not allowed to do that again!"

"I wasn't going to let you die," Lucie holds her. "We look after you, ok?" "No!" Emi sobs. "No, not okay!"

"Eh, chill out, she woke up so she's fine," despite his dismissive words, Benito is soft as he pets the top of Emi's head. "Well she's missing a leg, and her spine is fucked so she's probably losing the other one too, but its not like she can't live without legs. Will probably be faster on wheels than trying to run. So she's fine."

"Benito!"

Lucie isn't sure which of Diego or Luis - or Jeffrey, newly awake but looking very out of it - the screech came from. She doesn't really care, the reality not crashing in yet. All she can do is laugh at the flippant tone Benito says it in, like telling someone their cat got hit by a truck - or, no, a normal person wouldn't sound like that then either, so like someone telling you there's a bug in your hair. It's not right, it's not how anyone should say it, but in the short time she's known him it is so /very/ Benito.

Some idiot doctor she barely knows but who has survived hell with her just flippantly has told her she'll never walk again, and all she can do is laugh and think, perhaps, not walking is a small price for being alive with her Emi and her boys.

Because they are /hers/ now, if the universe wants them from her they can tear them from her cold, undying hands.

It will hit her later, the mess of her situation, in the dark and the alone, but for now she laughs in defiance of a world that tried to kill her. She grasps it with her teeth, just like teeth bit into her, and may not be a hero, but she won't let it win.

---

It will be many, many months before Lucie will be okay, but she will. The flat she and Diego share will need to be sold, but Luis' Abuelita will open up her home to all six of them strays. Lucie will get her own room on the ground floor, Emi on the first, and the boys all share the basement. Most nights, however, everyone will end up in Lucie's room - and nobody will mind.

Diego will help her up, and Abuelita will make them all breakfast, and Lucie will wheel herself out to the garden. She will drink wine and laugh and watch her Emi and her boys. Jeffery will be helping with the flowerbeds, while Benito heckles him instead of reviewing his textbooks. Luis and Diego will drag Emi into a game of catch, and Lucie will cheer for her girl.

At least, until a throw will be missed; Lucie will catch it and return it, and will join them - one hand to the controls for her wheelchair, the other to catch the ball.

There will be nightmares and horror and days she can feel the glove on her wrist or pain in a leg no longer there or the break in her spine will be agony, but those are not the only days for her future.

There will also be family, and love, playing ball in the garden and teaching Emi French and late nights on the patio where she falls asleep beneath the stars and in the arms of her boys. Benito will train to be licensed in Mexico, Jeffrey will get a job at a new pizza place closer to their new home. Diego will research and use the hush money to find parts of the world she can still explore, and they will go together - and never out of signal range.

Luis will see his grandmother again, and Emi will have a new home. They all will have a home, in each other, in blood.

Lucie may not remember being saved, but she remembers how it felt to die afraid and cold and alone and believing you had failed everything in your life forwards.

Lucie will look at her future, then, and for the first time in many years see hope.

[lesbiradshaw]

bradley & carole moodboard for suffering purposes

[romanoffsbish]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This…

Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

@beenicejoy request ❤️

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRHAbsj7/(TikTok they referenced)

Warnings: Angst! (Happy Ending), Heartbreak, Cheating.

Smutty Paragraph: Fingering(W) —I would’ve done more smut but the person hadn’t requested smut so I only did the blurb to urge the plot line I built along lol

18+ | Minors DNI | Smutty paragraph (🤷🏼‍♀️)

"Scotch on the rocks... Make it a double.," you sighed towards the bartender who looked at you with concerned eyes., "Rough night?!," your lips quirked when you heard the voice of your dearest colleague., "You could say that.,"

Wanda watched from her corner, silently at war with her heart and mind, and she almost gave into her urge to wring Darcy's neck when she saw her hand unnecessarily sat on your bicep., "Darling, are you okay? You seem a bit tense.," Vision asks, his arms wrapping around her from behind, and if anything she becomes more tense when he pulls her back into his loving embrace., "Yeah Vis, just tired is all."

—————————————————————

"We could always slip out early.," he muses and her stomach drops at the flirty undertones., "We most certainly can not, this is my best friends wedding.," she scoffs, wriggling out of his hold to give him a pointed glare, and he shrinks under her stare., "I'm getting a refill."

Wanda was grateful to her aloof boyfriend for giving her a reason to approach the bar you have been living at, and to her excitement you are finally without the scholar on your arm., "Hey Y/N/N...," you lightly nod her way, but forgo speaking as you slam back the cocktail., "How've you been?," Wanda inwardly cringed at how awkward the formality fell from her; you rolled your eyes, and sighed into your glass., "I've been good Wands...," you lied, turning yourself to uncomfortably look at her., "Can we talk about it, for just a second please?"

Wanda tensed, of course you'd want to do this now, her fingers gripped onto her glass tightly, but regardless of her uneasiness she nodded., "It's been super weird between us, and I don't want it to be anymore.," you quietly admitted, and Wanda shakily whispers., "Me neither."

"So, let me just say this: I'm done. You don't have to worry anymore.," Wanda's face fell., "What do you mean?," you sighed, meeting her worried gaze with a melancholy one of your own., "I'm done trying to get you; I can't do it anymore, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to figure it out, but I promise I'm done making a fool of myself.," a few tears settled at your eye line but you refused to let them fall, this was a night of celebration for your best friend, so you're doing your best to stay low-key.

"Y/N, you haven't been making a fool out of yourself.," Wanda rushes out in a subtle panic., "It's okay Wands... It's okay.," you sigh out as you pull your longtime best friend in for a hug., "...I want it to be okay.," you reaffirmed quietly.

Wanda's arms are wrapped tightly around you, her unwillingness to let you go only heightens as your next words string out., "Which is why I tendered my resignation at Stark's Corp.," Wanda could feel her soul leave her body when the words left your mouth., "Starting August 1st I'll be working with Pepper in California."

"You're leaving?," Wanda asks, her soft voice trembling as the daunting reality hits her, her fingers painfully dig into your back on reflex., "Plane leaves tomorrow.," you confirmed the obvious while slowly peeling her off of you., "Were you even going to tell me?," you look at her with a sad smile, the answer is clear as day when she looks into your conflicted eyes., "Oh."

In an attempt to evade the brunettes sad stare you peer out to take in the happy couple as they are sharing their first dance on the floor. It's the perfect example of everything you'd always wanted, their love was purely infectious. However as you see their shining smiles you also notice the way Carol's eyes fall to the food. You smirked when you realize just what she wanted, and as the wingwoman you've always been you decide to help her out.

"I've got to go now Wands, please take care.," you lay a soft kiss to her cheek, then you walk away from the woman who was clearly on the verge of a breakdown., "Please don't go.," she whispers long after you're gone, turning to face the bar to prevent those around from seeing her tears., "C-can I please get a vodka soda."

"Mind if I cut in?," you ask the blonde with a subtle head tilt to the tin that was nearing bare of the famed mashed potato cups, and she does her best not to look too excited while giving in., "Why thank you my good lady.," you teased the blonde who sprinted away to collect her food, and Natasha laughed loudly when you spun her around the floor before pulling her into you.

You swayed her around for a total of one song before she sighed heavily against your chest, her face lifting off your shoulder to glare up at you., "Y/N, are you really going to give up on her?," you deadpanned., "Tasha, she's dating Vision, and I've been pining after her since high school, what is there left for me to do?"

"Touché...," she groans in bitter defeat., "I just don't see why you have to run off to California. What do they have that New York doesn't? What am I meant to do without you?," her pouting face really pulled at your heart strings, but not enough to sway you this time around.

"I need a change of scenery Natty, and if I'm ever going to get over her then I need to go. Broaden my horizons a little, I need this,." Natasha smiles sadly, hearing that subtle bit of desperation in your tone settled her bitterness.

"You'll be back to visit right?," she asks quietly, a bit unsure of your long term plans., "Of course Natty, I could never stay away from you for long. Who else will I get into trouble with?," she chuckled at your words, memories of your college shenanigans flying through her mind.

"Don't replace me.," she whispers insecurely., "I would never dream of it Red.," you gently reassured her with a sweet kiss to her temple before spinning her into her wife's arms., "Welp lovebirds, I'll be heading out soon, but I'll see you two for our special goodbye brunch tomorrow.," you said with a clap of your hands, and the couple yanked you into a tight hug., "Careful not to wrinkle the fit, it's a rental."

After bidding them ado you turned to the bar, her unwavering stare was intense when you finally returned it, an obvious layer of pleading laid beneath them as she silently willed for you to tell her this was all just a sick fucking joke. That you weren't flying over a thousand miles away just to escape her. That the well of chances you'd given her to finally pick you hadn't actually ran out, that she still had time to figure it out, but when your eyes dropped, and you avoided her reaching out she knew this was it—she finally lost you, and fuck she'd surely be lying to say it didn't hurt like hell...

She went to follow you in a panic but she was bombarded by a group of giggling women that surrounded her; the brides were throwing their bouquets, partaking in the silly tradition that deemed the catcher next in line to be wed. Silently she cursed the notion, and it was as if the world was in on this sick joke because the bouquet landed in her folded arms. Obnoxious cheers filled the space around her, Vision ran up to lift her into the air, spinning her around as if the little game was a direct reassurance.

Watching the woman of your dreams being with another was never easy, but it always was a bit harder when under the surface lied the truth you always wanted to come to light. Wanda's expression was blank as her partner celebrated, but you saw right through her, you have always been good at that. Everyone had joked that you could read minds, but really it was just that you were always aware of Wanda.

Every twitch of her face meant something to you, what one might mistake for confusion, you readily knew to be irritation. When she sighed, which was often, you knew what each one meant, no one else could even detect the subtle differences in her breathing patterns, but you always did. They told you when she needed to vent, or to cry in your arms, or even when she was homesick and needed a Sokovian dish to cheer her up.

Nobody on this Earth knew Wanda more than you did, and yet here you both stood; together but still you were somehow two worlds apart.

You'd stayed off to the side to witness the silly tradition, and you now regretted deciding to do so because everything she was feeling you saw. Regret plagued her mind, it was easily the most notable of emotions swirling behind her orbs, her cheeks were shining under the dim lights as fresh tears fell down them, and your cheeks soon mirrored hers the longer you held her captivating stare.

Her eyes screaming "I love you," and yours saying much the same, but your feet carrying you away tell her that she was a smidge too late, and so it took everything in her not to allow the festering sobs to escape her chest.

—

Wanda was unresponsive when Vision tried to talk to her as they entered their shared space. The bouquet she carried in out of respect for her closest friends soon found a home in the trash, and she found her home in her flask., "For heaven sake Wanda, you've had enough.," Vision shrieked, but his attempts to take the container from her were futile as she shoved him back., "Only I'll say when I have.," she sneered, the metal touching her lips, the liquid that once burned now glides down her throat effortlessly, her boyfriend cringes at the sight.

"This is just too unhinged Wanda, we should be celebrating, and I should be having my way with you as we do.," she cringes at the way he speaks, as if she was nothing more than a prize he'd won, his vile words a stark contrast to the ones you'd muttered all those months back when you loved her so incredibly well in a drunken, post bachelorette party haze.

"Oh Wands, you're so beautiful...," you'd coo'd while your lips laid soft kisses all over her body, taking special care not to leave behind a trace., "I'm going to love you so well Wands, you're going to feel it deep within.," and feel she did as your fingers finally slipped inside of her after a decade of wait, unbridled moans of pleasure filled the space, and lasted well into the early morning, no thoughts of Vision had even prevailed in the redhead's cloudy mind. Everything was you, it always was, and she was kidding herself to ever think otherwise.

Tears once again befall her cheeks as she tries to rid her mind of your loving touch, desperate to return to the moment, but it's of little use., "Vision, there's nothing to fucking celebrate.," the words held a bite to them that send shivers down her own spine, he didn't exactly deserve her fury, but he sure as hell was going to get it.

Vision wasn't stupid—far from it actually, so he'd always known from the start he was on borrowed time with the box dyed redhead. Wanda was always hard to read for him, but the way the woman looked at you as if you'd hung the moon and stars was obvious, he had always yearned for that stare onto fall to him. It never did though, and he always knew it never would., "Whatever Y/N said to you, I just hope it isn't too late for you both; it's clear to me it's about time I set you free Wanda."

Wanda's heart shattered even further when the man she spent the last five years with spoke. She did love him, but never how she loved you, and now she's finding out that he always knew. Part of her wants to be angry that he'd stayed, that he didn't urge her to follow her heart, but at the end of the day she knew he was following his, and he wasn't the problem here—she was.

"Please Wanda, don't let her slip away.," the man mutters from her side., "Be brave.," he says with conviction as he places a parting kiss to her trembling lips., "And don't forget to send my invitation to the wedding.," he chuckles sadly, the sound of wheels following him as he takes his sparse belongings with him.

Once the door slams shut she breaks down fully, the reality of it all finally hitting her, she settled onto her couch with her laptop full of memories of you, and a pint of ice cream.

—

"Y/N, I'm serious, look!," Natasha squeals from the seat across from you with a hopeful smile and her phone held out for you., "Well, I'm saying it surely doesn't mean anything.," you groaned while reluctantly accepting the device and seeing she was indeed telling you the truth.

"It is with deep regret, and great hurt in my heart that I announce to my dearest friends and family that Wanda and I are no longer an item.," your eyes were transfixed on the screen, those words you'd waited years to hear finally became a reality, but all you could do is shake your head and pass her phone back to her.

"Come on Y/N! This can't be a coincidence.," Carol chimes in, and Natasha rewards her with a peck to her reddening cheeks., "Exactly! Go to her! Cancel the move, Tony will take you back with open arms, I'm certain of it."

"Guys, no. This changes nothing, breakup or not she's not ready to love me in front of the whole world and we all know she never will be.," you shut them down, tone level as you were in public but the couple knew it was best not to push., "Okay, then eat up champ, it's almost time for us to all head to the airport.," Natasha reroutes back to the task at hand, you smile at her before returning to your eggs, and she begins her plans to bark up the other tree.

—

Wanda woke up to the sound of your laughter, for the briefest moment the world felt right, her hungover mind easily tricking her into a false sense of reality. The dinging of a phone and looping of your laughter brought her back though, so she swiftly sat up, one hand haphazardly reaching for her phone while the other massaged at her throbbing temples.

*Take off is at 3PM, Flight 2469, don't fuck this up Max, your window is narrowing 🤏🏼*

Wanda paid no mind to the way her body reacted to her quick movements, but it was apparent to her that as she approached thirty she could no longer hang like she once did. Nausea and a killer headache wouldn't get in her way of getting to you, to fixing everything. She booked the flight, fortunate to find it was not full just yet, and then she ran to shower. There was no way she was finally professing her unwavering love to you out loud while smelling like an actual distillery.

—

You felt uneasy as you entered the busy airport with your whole life being downsized within two hardshell suitcases. This hope inducing idea that they broke up over you was weighing heavily on your mind and it made you begin to question if leaving was the right choice here. This might finally be your chance to have her, the woman you've been in love with since sophomore year of high school when she'd transferred into your school and deposited herself right into your heart. With that deep accent, kind heart and that perfect smile.

Then you deflate as you remember once again that even before Vision she refuted her feelings for you, she always had, and it appears that she always will. This game she played had been the most exhausting one of your life; the jealousy she always exhibited when you were coupled up, or were flirted with that she'd disguise as her "not wanting to lose her best friend to an undeserving hussy.," the worst part of it all. Her intentions were obvious, everyone saw right through her, but no matter the case you excused her behavior in fear of having none of her, and she'd continue to shoot anyone down when they mentioned her potential crush.

She'd never elaborated to you why she was so afraid to love you outwardly, at one point you considered her parents potentially being homophobic, but then Piet came out Senior year and they embraced him wholeheartedly. She didn't even have the guts to tell you after she allowed you to make love to her for countless hours, your name tumbling from her lips like a sweet promise, but it was really just a tainted one with heartbreak as its intention.

After that joyous night, and subsequently devastating morning she avoided you. It was months of unfair silence, every text or call ignored all until the wedding planning had picked back up. Then she had tried to just act as if nothing happened between the two of you by pulling you into a hug, a front of sorts. Talking about Vis this, and Vis that, all the while doing her damndest to cockblock you when Carol's beautiful bridesmaid Monica tried to pick you up at the dress fittings.

Thing's only got worse when her attempts fell through, and you and Monica began to spend more time together. Wanda was irritable at every gathering, your few shared words were nothing short of awkward, and her longing stares from across the room bordered creepy. So long were the easy days of your facade of friendship, only to be replaced by a fragile tie between shared lifelong friends.

Leaving really was all you had left now...

"Hey, you alright?," Carol whispers as she pulls your crying form into her strong embrace., "I'm going to miss you guys.," you told a half truth, but the way your Russian best friend looked to you it was obvious she knew the truth, but if she did she said nothing, residing instead to hug you tightly., "Don't you dare be a stranger dorogoy.," she threatens, arms tightening to get her point across, only satisfied when you choke out., “I wont Tasha…,”

The redhead tapped your ass in send off, only giggling when your pointed glare finds her, and you share one last chuckle with your friends. Heart absolutely aching at the absence of the other original member, but it’s truly no shock to you that she’s not here to bid you farewell., “Take care, and safe travels to Cancun my sweetest loves.,” you genuinely relay just before walking off to meet Pepper in the TSA line.

“Where the fuck is Wanda?,” Natasha groans against her wife’s chest., “She’ll be here.,” Nat scoffs., “Yeah, too late for me to see it work.,” the blonde laughs wildly, and the redhead whines while trying to shove her away, but Carol holds to her firmly., “My beautiful wife, you must have more faith in me please…”

Natasha looks up to her with furrowed brows, and a deep pout, Carol gently thumbs at the crease between her eyes., “I pushed our flights around, and handled all the trip rearranging so that you—my Russian spy in training, could have a front row seat to the greatest love story of all time, second only to ours of course.,” Natasha squeals, then surges forward to catch her wife’s lips in a passionate kiss.

“Look, the show has begun…,” Carol teases, Natasha follows her eyes to the luggage counter to find a distressed looking Wanda in a rush., “Tell me my wife, did you bring the popcorn?,” the couple quietly snicker before following behind the Sokovian at a safe enough distance.

Wanda’s feet move her quickly, the line for TSA a breeze as she’d paid for the precheck, but then she was lost in a crowd of random people., “Where could all of you need to be going?,” she grumbled while looking all over for you, the flight had already began to board and she was panicking that she’d miss her chance to speak. Just as she began to feel tears pricking her eyes at the prospect of missing you she heard your perfect laugh, heart clenching at the daunting idea of never being able to hear it again.

It all happened rather quickly, one second you’re upright talking to your new boss about the California weather, the next your flat on the ground of the Laguardia airport, groaning in pain with a newly heavy feeling atop of you., “Y/N, are you okay?,” you look up to see your boss’s confused expression, then you peer down to see the shivering body atop of you., “Yeah, I’m good Pepper.,” you reply before sitting the both of you back up. Pepper got the subtle message loud and clear so she stepped closer to the terminal, but not far away enough so that she couldn’t be a bit nosy.

“Wanda, would you like to tell me what the hell that was about, hm?,” you immediately regret the way it came out when you saw the way that she flinched., “I-I, please don’t leave me Y/N, I’m ready, fuck, I’m so unbelievably ready.,” you can’t fight the need to comfort her as you guide her head to your chest., “Wands, it’s too late for me to stay, I made a commitment.”

“No, please don’t tell me I’m too late, this can’t be it for us Y/N.,” you chuckled bitterly as tears streamed down your face., “But it is isn’t it?,” she shook her head., “Don’t say that, it’s not!,” you didn’t want to say it, but it just felt like the end was upon the both of you, her hushed lap confession wasn’t going to magically fix this, and you were truthfully beyond exhausted with the repetitive matter at hand.

“What do you want from me Y/N? Need me to shout it across the damn airport?! Fine.,” the distressed woman jumped up from your lap in a hurry before you could stop her, she climbed onto a counter, towering over you as you were now on your feet staring up at her shocked., “Attention travelers, I, Wanda Maximoff am merely just a stranger to you, standing in this airport ready to profess my love to the one and only woman of my dreams—Y/N Y/L/N.,”

Wanda smiled down at you, eyes shining with a glossy truth, she held that contact with you as she continued to loudly speak to the strangers., “I’ve loved her for over a decade, but sadly it’s my only damn fault we never got our chance. I was just so fucking scared of the repercussions. Love is absolutely terrifying, and having you as my friend had felt safer than losing you over an inevitable future heartbreak.”

“Sing it!!!,” you both chuckled when you heard your best friends voice from afar, you even tried to find the source, but Wanda was not done speaking to you, so you turned back to face the love of your life.

“But that clearly didn’t work out, because you’re telling me that I’m losing you anyways. Plus, I’ve had you wholly now, and I’ll be damned if I’ll never be able to do so again.,” Wanda couldn’t stand the distance so she went to hop down, you were quick to help her, soft hands gripped her by the waist and gently lowered her back to the ground.

The newfound closeness made your breath catch as she didn’t move to pull back, but instead leaned in to have her front flush to yours while her hands cupped your cheeks., “Allow me this chance to make it up to you detka, make up for all this lost time where I ran from the truest thing I’ve ever known.,” her heart was thumping erratically in her chest at your continued silence, anxiety spiking when your lip trembled., “I- don’t know Wands…”

The pads of her thumbs brushed your tears away while she took in a steadying breath, then before she lost all her built up confidence she pressed her lips to yours passionately. You gasped at the vaguely familiar feeling, and Wanda went to pull away in fear that she only made things worse, but with your grip on her hips you held her in place, and your lips moved against hers with no further hesitation.

Wanda broke the kiss, giggling against your lips when the sound of clapping surrounded the both of you., “How about now?,” she hummed, and you smiled., “We’ll figure it out.”

Natasha and Carol ran full speed ahead when they felt all was well, the blonde lifting the two of you off the ground in a rush of excitement., “Ahhh!!! Double dates, and my bestie stays.,” Natasha shrieked, but then her face fell when you looked at her with a saddened expression., “Guys, I made a commitment, I can’t stay.,” Carol set you both back down, and the once joyous moment felt almost doomed for pain.

The clicking of heels and clearing of a throat pulled all of your attention to the right., “Y/N, please do excuse me for cutting in, but the contracts haven’t been notarized yet, and I wouldn’t have a problem with you working remotely from New York.,” she saw the way your eyes searched her face so she offered you the kindest smile she could., “Truthfully.”

“Where will I stay?,” you thought out loud, and Wanda didn’t hesitate to answer., “With me, it’ll be just like college, but ten times better.,” the beaming smile she wore settled the rest of your doubts., “Sure we’re not moving too fast?” She met your teasing with a shoulder bump while the group of you stood in line to board the plane to California., “I was actually thinking we weren’t moving fast enough.”

You turned to her with a teasing smirk., “Careful Maximoff, just cause you caught that bouquet doesn’t mean I’ll be marrying you anytime soon.,”she smirks right back., “Detka, how else will we reach my plans to be married by 30?,” your eyes widened at the reminder of her lifelong goals, and you settled into your seat and furthermore into a stunned silence.

“Vegas is only an eight hour drive away.,” Carol muses all too suddenly through the crack in the airplane seats., “Shut the hell up Danvers.,” you grumbled, and all three of your favorite women broke out into fits of taunting laughter, and after a moment of sulking you did as well.

Wanda’s fear of planes had always been rather bad, and it was in this moment with her that you realized this was it. Wanda had chosen you, and she wasn’t going anywhere without you from this point forward, she was yours in the way that you have always been hers, and it was like the familiar feeling of the weight of the world on your chest had finally melted away.

“I love you Y/N/N.,” Wanda whispered, her eyes shut tightly with her hand in yours and head leaning against your shoulder., “I love you too Max, so very much.,” you settled a sweet kiss to her head to offer her comfort, and felt as she squeezed your hand when the plane took off., “I’ll gladly take your last name one day.,” you felt her smile against your clothed shoulder, and all in the world finally felt right.

——

4,666 Words 😳😂

If you ever make a request and want it smutty make sure you say so, because I won’t be likely to make it as such if you don’t. 🤪

❤️ Kaitlyn 💋

[pinkyjulien]

Valentin Da Silva | 153/?? 💻

[orionchildofhades]

steddie swapping soulmate au part 7

part 1 |[...]| part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | Ao3

---

Steve first year in highschool trickles by slowly.

He grows into his skin, more comfortable with the dynamics of the school, accepting bit by bit the way people expect him to act. This is not middle school anymore. This is where the first steps of his future begin, this is where he can write a name for himself, remind the world of the meaning beind the name Harrington.

Or so his father says. And his mother. Or at least she nods like it's one of the wisest thing she heard. And then she comes see him after dinner, sit on the edge of his bed and look at him, remind him how she loves him and how proud the whole family will be when he graduates and join the firm.

We'll all move to New York, honey, over with this town, don't worry.

And then she, and Father, leave once more, leaving Hawkins until they decide it's time to show themselves again.

So Steve plays basket, he swims. He tries as hard as he can on his work, on essays and history dates. He doesn't get much of the things his english teacher says, but he never did. Who could even know what a writer thought when saying the tableclothe was red? Not Steve.

But he likes when the teacher explains how the universe came to be, how all matter comes from the stars. The way we're all stardusts, linked to each other and the world around us. He likes when they tell him about the velocity and aerodynamics.

Tests are a bore and he loves complaining with his friends.

Carol swaps during winter break but doesn't say much about it. No one tries to pry. And Steve would really be an hypocrite if he did. Soulmate is private buisiness. If he doesn't want to talk about it, he shouldn't have to. Same for Carol.

Tommy swaps with his soulmate, Natalie, during a cold day in January. "It's not cold. This is pretty acceptable actually, for this month. Where are we again?" She had said with a thick accent. If this wasn't cold, Steve didn't want to know what was.

Steve doesn't swap again. Not for seven entire months.

Seven months spent thinking about Eddie.

Why Eddie rejected him, why he sneers in his direction when they cross path in the corridor.

Why he still hasn't swapped.

Because what could it mean? What exept that his soulmate doesn't want him and the universe apparently agrees with it.

Long nights are spent staring at the ceiling, both fearing and hoping to swap the next day. Thinking about what he did. Replaying each words and actions of this time before the club room.

He is a mistake. Maybe what people say is true, soulmates of the same gender shouldn't exist, and Eddie hates him for it. For being there, for being the body he woke up in when he was sent by the universe itself.

If we're all made of the same stardusts, what does it matter if I'm boy?

The universe had not sent an answer to that.

So Steve watches.

Richard picks on Eddie's friends, on the kids who play chest, on the drama club. And Steve watches.

He watches when Eddie is shoved into a locker, his heart aching and tears pricking with tears that he would not let fall. He watches as the sneers Eddie bears become more violent, when he is hit by a violent growth spurt and he grows into it, using the hight advantage he has against most people. He watches as rumors starts flying around about Eddie, listen to the words people use, The Loveless, the Freak.

All wrong. But Steve doesn't say anything.

For spring break, Steve leaves Hawkins. Instead of coming back, his parents send him a plane ticket for him to come to the city. To New York. His mother swore to take him to own of her favorite broadway show, his father to show him the firm properly. He is a man now after all, he has to learn the proper way to live his life. To follow into his father's footsteps.

He leaves Hawkins and he leaves behind the worries and the dread of having a soulmate who doesn't like him.

In the late hours of night, he sometimes thinks he'd rather have what his parents have, which is not fucking much, rather than whatever it is that Eddie feels for him. Even less than not much. Even worse.

New York is big. Bigger than he remembers. Bigger than Hawkins and his school, bigger than all his problems and he let the light of the city sip into his skin and bones, the lives shaking the entire ground, the noises and voices and faces all mixing in a fury of colours and movements.

That's when he swaps again.

[indigosabyss]

Unexpected Baggage Pt 3

Erik left the bar with three cooling bodies inside, hands tucked into his pocket as the door shut itself behind him.

Kamala was watching him carefully, positioned far away from the windows. He had asked her to wait outside, but he knew she had heard everything. Whether she could speak German or not, the gunshot and screams and blood splatters should be enough context for her to know what happened.

"I know..." He started off uncomfortably, "I know you have nowhere else to go. But that had to be done. The things they've done- you can't imagine."

"It happens, I guess." She replied dully, "Not, not really my place to say, is it? I just want Monica back."

Right. The woman named Monica Rambeau, who Kamala had come from the future to rescue.

"I have no idea how to do that." He admitted, "Searching the entire world is... An impossible task. But I'll try to figure out a way."

Kamala nodded, and briskly began walking away from the bar, "Let's get out of here. You get any information from the Nazis that I didn't hear?"

"He's in Miami." Erik replied, following after her.

"The... Herr Doktor guy or some other person connected to him?" Her question was disinterested, but he knew she was just pretending at it.

"It's Schmidt." He confirmed, and didn't add Finally, but the bitter excitement still poured through.

"He work for HYDRA?"

"Huh?"

Kamala nodded, readjusting her grip on her bag, "HYDRA, scientific weapons development division of Nazi Germany? They took over an American counter-terrorism wing after WW2. Huge scandal when the documents all got leaked. My friend Bruno and I learned cryptography to help decode them."

All this she delivered in quick expressionless monologue, and then tacking on, "Or, you know. Things could have gone differently in this dimension."

But too many details were lining up perfectly in his mind.

"Well." Erik decided, "Good thing America is our next stop."

[dodger-chan]

So I accidentally* wrote an additional fic in the same universe as Reveal the Yearning Desert.

*I swear I didn't mean to do it, I was thinking about Carol and Robin and it just sorta happened.

Fortunately @sharpbutsoft was willing and able to step in with some beta reading. So now, you can read

Carve Me a Crooked Oak

Excerpt:

Of all the things Robin had never dreamed of doing a week ago, but had done since, knocking on Carol Perkins’ door was the most mundane. But also kind of the craziest. Russian spies and interdimensional monsters were one thing, breaching the wall between band nerds and highschool royalty was a very comprehensible sort of impossibility. A known danger.

Robin goes to Carol's house shortly after the events of chapter six.

[skyler10fic]

Seasons Meetings

By Skyler10

Summary: Daisy brings her new girlfriend home to meet her parents, and Phil and Melinda are thrilled.

A/N: Wrote this on the plane home alone to a less accepting family and edited on the flight back, so I hope this helps all of us who have parents who wouldn't react in this welcoming of a way. *hugs

Read on Ao3

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

Melinda May was in awe looking back at her past holiday family photos. She’d aged, despite her husband’s protests to the contrary. He had too, but gracefully, carrying the wisdom and laugh lines of experience, complimenting his gentle kindness. Their tiny baby transformed through each photo—first into a delightful and hyperactive little girl, then to an adorkable preteen, then to a depressed teenager with long hair dyed even blacker than her natural dark brown and with matching nails and thick eyeliner. She smiled, but it barely covered the truth. Those were rough years for them all.

But the photo tradition had continued. The longer Daisy was in college, the more she bloomed. She matured into a radiant young adult, if self-deprecating and with still a bit of that old insecurity when she ran into old classmates when home for the holidays. Former teachers and senseis and parents of friends asked every time when she was going to bring home a boyfriend, how she could possibly still be single, and didn’t she want to give her parents grandchildren?

Melinda always redirected the conversation, with a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Both Melinda and Phil were quick to reassure Daisy that they were proud of her regardless of her relationship status or whether she ever had children. Daisy was grateful but said no more on the subject. She mentioned boyfriends here and there, and a girl or two, but none made it to Christmas or to meeting her parents. Melinda and Phil worried that Daisy's teen years were still haunting her all these years later.

In Daisy’s senior year of high school, she came out as bi to her parents in a tearful outpouring of secrets at the lowest point of her depression, but it proved to be a turning point. To Phil and Melinda, it was also a relief as it answered so many questions. It wasn’t just her ADHD, the high expectations on her as a tech genius, and the stress of moving away to college soon. She’d had her heart broken a year earlier by a girl who wasn’t ready to be out and denied they had ever had anything between them. The girl's friends shamed and bullied Daisy for months, but eased up over the summer and the fall semester. But as pressure mounted in the spring before graduation, Phil and Melinda found Daisy in her room crying so hard that dark streaks of mascara stained Phil’s shirt as he pulled her close. She’d been photographed flirting with another girl, and the photo had made its way around social media with meme text about sin and “confusion” in “our schools,” with the cyberbullying perpetuated by the girl from the previous year who had now joined an evangelical youth group.

No one could blame Daisy for staying away after high school graduation. She spent her summer breaks in impressive internships until one of those internships turned into a job at the end of those four years. But through university and now as a working professional, she always came home for Christmas.

This year, however, she wouldn’t be coming alone. She said she had a special guest, but she wanted it to be a surprise.

Melinda and Phil lit up when they saw their precious girl appear from the airport terminal. But the bombshell blonde with her made their smiles even bigger. The blonde caught Daisy’s scarf as it fell off and they stopped so she could wrap it back around Daisy’s neck. Daisy pecked a kiss to the blonde’s cheek and took her hand.

“Mystery solved then,” Phil quipped to Melinda. Melinda sent him an amused look of agreement before they waved to catch Daisy's attention.

After reunion hugs were exchanged, Daisy introduced them to the blonde who was politely waiting behind her.

“Okay, don't be weird,” Daisy warned, “but this is my girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Surprise! Carol, this is my mom and dad.”

Daisy's nervous smile told Melinda all she needed to know. Daisy was in love. This was no mere holiday invite because Carol didn't have plans. This was an official Meeting of the Parents.

“Wow, girlfriend, huh?” Phil stuck out his hand to shake Carol's. “I'm Phil.”

“We're so glad to meet you.” Melinda shook her hand next. “I'm Melinda.”

With this warm welcome, they walked together to the baggage claim.

“So this is the mysterious Carol,” Melinda began. “We've heard you've been spending time together…”

“… But we didn't know about the girlfriend part,” Phil finished.

Carol turned to Daisy in hesitation, “Wait, did they know before now that you're—”

“Oh! Yes.” “Old news.” “Yes!” The three hurried to answer.

“Just not that you two specifically were together in that way,” Phil explained his comment. “Carol, we can't wait to get to know you. We're really excited you're here.” Phil tried to rein in his enthusiasm to not embarrass Daisy, but Daisy and Melinda laughed at how obvious it was. Carol didn't, though. She seemed to relax.

“Thank you,” she said simply. Carol didn't hide it as well as Melinda did herself, but this girl clearly had some armor up. Melinda made it her mission to help Carol see her defenses were unnecessary here and that she was genuinely welcome.

“We weren't sure who this surprise guest would be so we made up the guest room,” Melinda explained. “But if you'd both be more comfortable staying in Daisy's room, that's fine too. Her bed is big enough for two.”

There, that was obviously supportive.

“Mom!!” Daisy groaned and blushed.

Phil shrugged. “This is our first time doing this. We don't know what you want.”

“Okayyyy,” Daisy turned to Carol, “now you see why I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Carol smiled at Daisy's childish embarrassment. “I think that's very kind. I'm okay with sharing if Daisy is.”

Daisy nodded and relaxed at how well this was going so far despite her anxieties, and Carol continued.

“Daisy told me it's the first time she's brought anyone home to meet you two. And she told me about all your Christmas traditions.”

Phil offered, “Do you have any of your family's that you would want to do while you're here, Carol? And are they okay with you being with us instead of with them this year?”

Carol exhaled heavily and looked to the still-quiet baggage carousel. “Yeah, they … will be fine.”

Daisy filled in, “Carol and her parents don't really get along.”

Ah.

Phil and Melinda nodded in understanding, and Phil offered, “Well, you're always welcome with us.”

He wanted to hug Carol, Melinda could tell, but the bags started to arrive. He was always finding young people in need of a mentor or father figure and helping them believe in themselves, whatever path lay ahead of them.

With their luggage acquired, they were ready to start their holiday. The four ventured out of the airport for a first Christmas together that they would each treasure for the rest of their lives, despite all of the awkward moments and hard conversations—and the heartbreaking realization that Carol had been worried about Phil and Melinda’s reaction to Daisy bringing home a woman. But Carol's courage and love had shown through, even in that misplaced fear, by being willing to come home with Daisy anyway. Which, of course, only endeared her to them more.

Even that same Christmas, after dropping the two young lovebirds back at the airport, Phil and Melinda mentioned it as soon as they were alone in the SUV. There was mutual agreement that this was The One for Daisy, but also that Carol clearly felt the same. She was the only person who could be worthy of their daughter, from the way Carol adored Daisy to the way she always looked out for Daisy's best, from that scarf in the first moment they saw her to handling Daisy's luggage with care when unloading at the dropoff on the way back.

“That girl’s going to be our daughter-in-law someday,” Melinda had remarked as they watched Carol disappear with Daisy through the airport sliding doors.

“You okay with that?” Phil asked just to be sure.

“Definitely. And you know I wouldn't say that about anybody else.” Melinda raised an eyebrow pointedly. “You?”

“Me too.” Phil smiled and pulled the SUV away from the curb and into an opening in the airport traffic. “One week and we already feel like a family of four.”

“People always asked me if we'd regret not having more kids,” Melinda confessed. “But I think this was the one we were waiting for. Not a sister for Daisy but a wife.”

Phil recounted this story as the father of the bride a year and a half later, in their wedding toast.

[polar-equinoxx]

I broke myself

So now I’ll break you lot too

I’m so sorry

[radiantdanvers]

Pov: Your camera roll if you're dating Carol Danvers

Masterlist

[jonathanbyersphd]

AND FURTHERMORE, if you're going to make a stick season sadboi Steve edit it should be to Orange Juice, She Calls Me Back, Homesick or All My Love.